[junkissed]

jun's ideal type

★ | member — junhui x gn reader ★ | genre — fluff, headcanons, bullet point list, one suggestive section (clearly labelled at the end so you can skip it if you like!) ★ | word count — 1.2k ★ | warnings — none ★ | notes — requested by anon!

★ | disclaimer — this is fiction! none of this is correct, true, or "confirmed" info. this is my personal perception of his character based on the content i've watched, so please don't take this as fact :) according to kprofiles, the only thing he's actually said is:

... which means bascially nothing haha. my headcanons are gender-neutral so his partner can be anyone (not strictly a girl). don't make assumptions about anyone's sexuality, but again this is fiction so feel free to imagine whatever you like!

── ⊹ ˙ . 𖥻 jun's ideal type . . .

. . . is someone more extroverted than him (but not too much)

• there's a very specific sweet spot here that he's looking for, someone who's not super extroverted but also not as much of an introvert as he is. since jun definitely leans more introverted, he doesn't mind sitting back and letting you talk to your heart's content. with a partner who's more extroverted than he is, there's no pressure for him to carry the conversation or make jokes. he can just listen and jump in when he wants to, not because he feels obligated to fill the silence when you're around.

• i think he enjoys having extroverted friends (how could he get along so well with svt if he didn't lol) so he's grown used to being around rambunctious energy. maybe not as rowdy 24/7 as someone like hoshi, but he'd like having a partner who knows how to have fun and let loose once in a while. as long as you're enjoying yourself and he doesn't have to interact with a ton of strangers, he doesn't care.

• for most of his life he's taken on a 'big brother' kind of role, so deep down i think he'd secretly want someone who'll take care of him so he can relax. he wants somebody who's not afraid to flag down a waiter and complain about his order being wrong, when he'd rather suck it up and not bother the staff. he wants somebody who'll hold his hand on busy streets and make sure he doesn't get caught up in the crowd and left behind in the chaos. he wants somebody who'll be the older sibling for him this time, someone who's mature and caring in the same way he is.

. . . values communication and honesty

• he's said this plenty of times, but jun is a very honest person. he isn't so honest that he uses his honesty to hurt people — quite the opposite, actually. the last thing he ever wants is to make his partner or his friends uncomfortable by telling harsh truths. but at the same time, open communication is really important to him. having to learn multiple languages for his job, miscommunication happens a lot and he's acutely aware of how frustrating it is when other people don't understand what he's trying to say. even if it may hurt his pride sometimes, he'd want someone who'll always tell him the truth, because he prefers to know instead of hearing little white lies that won't help him grow as a person.

• i think he's very philosophical and he reflects a lot, and he always wants to learn from others and better himself, which is why communication is so important to him. if there's a better, more efficient, more kind way to live his life then he wants to achieve that, and the only way to do that is by being honest with himself and everyone in his life.

. . . is someone he can let his inner child out with

• we've all seen the runner-up winner episode of gose! (if you haven't, then what are you doing go watch it right now?? it's so cute i promise you'll love it) jun is a guy that really loves to play games and be silly. he's so whimsical and finds fun in practically anything, so his ideal type wouldn't mind doing "childish" things together. he wants someone who is truly genuine in everything that they do: who isn't afraid of looking stupid, who doesn't go along with the crowd, who doesn't obsess over how people perceive them.

• he wouldn't fit well with someone who's strict or stubborn or too nonchalant, someone who's a workaholic, because he knows how important it is to have a balance in your life and not take yourself too seriously sometimes. obviously he wouldn't be comfortable around someone who looks down on him for being immature or makes fun of him for acting like a kid sometimes. the man has been working since he was 3 years old, cut him some slack! svt understands this and it's why they treat him so gently. they adore him because they know he needs space to be a little dumb and a little dorky without judgement. he's spent so much of his life being serious, so his ideal partner would be someone who embraces his weird side, and loves him not just in spite of it, but because of it. weird baddies have to stick together so it's a requirement for him sorry you've gotta be a little bit strange.

[NSFW] . . . is a switch who always loves trying new things

• jun is so good at adapting to whatever situation he's in, and i think that would carry over into the bedroom. he's flexible, and he wants someone who can be flexible too and keep up with his many desires. sometimes he's had a rough day and he wants to just turn his brain off and let his partner call the shots, and he'll be your good boy and do whatever you tell him to do. sometimes he wants to be a little bratty and make you force him into submission instead. sometimes he's feeling brave and wants to take charge, and he be a little bit of a mean dom too. but most of the time, to him sex is just sex, so as long as you both feel good it doesn't matter exactly what the roles are. he's very much a "go with the flow" person, so he wouldn't work well with somebody who's very rigid and only likes one certain type of sex.

• he's a man of many talents (singing, dancing, acting, modeling, cooking, martial arts, speaking like 10 different languages... the list goes on) and he doesn't want to do only one thing for his entire life, so i can't see him wanting to stick to one type of sex forever either. like a cat, he's curious about everything, and he wants to try every new thing he comes across. he's open to almost anything, so he'd want a partner who is equally willing to play around with him, even if it doesn't end up being something either of you like. the experimenting is the fun part!

• he'd also want someone who isn't afraid of talking about sex, because while even he can be shy about it sometimes, it's normal and okay and there's nothing weird about it. he loves post-sex discussions where you just lie in bed together and talk about what you liked, what you didn't like, what you want to try differently next time. communication is very important to him, and if something isn't working, he wants to know right away. if it's something he can fix, then there's no reason to beat around the bush instead of tackling it head-on.

• bonus: i am on team "jun wants to be pegged" so i believe his ideal type is someone who isn't afraid of using toys/other items in the bedroom. do NOT try to come between him and his favorite dildo.

© junkissed 2026. do not repost or translate. ── ⊹ ˙ . 𖥻 want to be notified when i post new fics? join my taglist!

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did please reblog with your thoughts, or leave a comment or send an ask! it shows me that people are interested in my writing, and knowing people liked this makes me want to write more! i put a lot of time, love, and effort into my writing, so feedback is really appreciated and motivates me to keep posting :) thanks for reading!!

taglist — located in the replies

[orbitondgtl]

pairing: bf!minghao x gf!reader

summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, you visit the flower shop that he’s a regular at, although you’re not entirely sure what your purpose is. Coincidentally, the flower shop becomes the very reason you can save your relationship from falling apart

wc: 3,937

tags: non-idol au, first blooms collab, tension, first fight, first reconciliation, it’s very tense, angst with a happy ending, fluff at the ending, light pda

a/n: so excited to be sharing my fic for the first blooms collab by @svthub! make sure to check the other fics as well, you're going to have a blast <3

You had no idea what you were going to get yourself into. 

Tucked away underneath an umbrella, you stared at the sign on the shop window. Minghao was always the one decorating your place with flowers, always knowing exactly what would fit the season, the scenery, even your mood. 

Now you had to do it yourself because your flowers were dying in your windowsill. Minghao wouldn’t be around to save them anytime soon. You never had much with flowers, but he loved it so you let him go crazy. 

And honestly? Everything he put in there was gorgeous. 

The thought tightened your chest. You nearly turned around and went home crying, but you pushed through the doors anyway. 

You closed your umbrella and left it in the holder with the others. The smell of fresh flowers was all around you, and you recognised the daisies that were on your right. Observing them closely, tears welled in your eyes. 

A stupid argument had completely escalated. An argument that you had a thousand times before, that led to nowhere, had made everything worse. When you thought about the way you started screaming at each other, the air punched out of your lungs. You’d never seen Minghao angry before – irritated at best – but you had ticked him off so badly that the vein in his neck visibly pulsed. The entire apartment complex could hear him, even though he switched to Chinese every few sentences. 

Since that night, you hadn’t seen or spoken to him anymore. That was now two weeks ago and you were in a flower shop, looking as lost as you were. You were still not sure whether you were truly there to replace your dying flowers or if you didn’t know where else to go. 

Strolling past the displays, you stopped in front of a bouquet of roses. 

Minghao had often talked about them. Especially the pink and white flowers had always appealed to him and you’d never been able to pinpoint why. Just like many of his preferences, the mystery had left you wanting to know more. When you asked, you expected a very specific answer, something direct and tangible. 

More often than not, he told you that some things didn’t need an explanation. It was a feeling you had and it left you with more questions than answers. You wanted things figured out, while Minghao was someone who could wait and see how things would go. ‘Go with the flow’, as he would’ve told you. 

His flow didn’t exactly bring him back to you yet. 

You headed into the back of the shop. Lavender, something you absolutely hated no matter how many times Minghao tried to introduce it to you. The smell was overbearing and overwhelming. 

You turned back around, bumping right into a guy, guessing him to be around your age. Muttering a quick apology, you stepped out of the way, but he chuckled. 

“I was actually here to help you,” he said and crossed his arms behind his back. “First time here?” 

“Do I look that obviously out of place?” 

He flashed a smile. 

You clicked your tongue. “Alright. Loud and clear.” 

The guy chuckled and started walking. “The actual reason is that I haven’t seen you around here. I would recognise you if you were a regular.” 

“Ah.” You trailed after him. “My… um, my boyfriend comes here often. If anyone’s the regular, it’s him.” 

He looked back at you and narrowed his eyes, scanning you up and down. “Your boyfriend…” 

“I think.”

Mentally you were already strangling yourself for letting it slip out, but he ignored it to your surprise. You breathed out softly and stopped when he did. 

“Is he broad and muscular?”

You couldn’t help but snort before composing yourself. You shook your head. “Sorry. No, he’s not.”

“Guessing by that reaction, he’s the opposite.”

“I wouldn’t describe him as ‘broad’, no.”

An amused smile decorated the man’s face. “Longer blond hair?”

Your stomach tingled. “As of recently, yes.” 

“Oh, Minghao,” he cooed and clasped his hands together. “He would be laughing in my face if I told him that you were here.” 

You tilted your head with a frown. 

The man took you to the front of the shop, where you were admiring the daisies earlier. He grabbed a couple of white ones out of the bucket and turned around. “Minghao always comes here to pick out flowers for your house then, I assume, and he talks about you on many occasions.” 

He walked to a couple of other buckets and picked some pink flowers. “I vividly remember him telling me that you would never be found here. Look at you now!” 

You blinked a couple of times. It was the first time you ever saw him, but he was spewing information like he knew you better than you knew yourself, talking like he was catching up with an old friend. 

With a weak nod, you looked at the flowers in his hand. “Minghao was completely right in saying that.” 

“What brings you here?” 

You looked at him, opening your mouth to say something before closing it. Shrugging, you shot him a small smile. “I don’t know, to be honest. It just felt right coming here.” 

He returned the smile warmly before handing you the bouquet. “You made the right choice, then.” 

The bouquet had been sitting in a vase in your kitchen for days. You’d been pondering over what to say to Minghao and how you were going to approach him in the first place. It was almost three weeks ago since your last contact and you were reaching your final straw. 

When you called him, you got voicemail. Expecting him to call back, you left him be until a call would never come. Slowly, the empty feeling in your chest started filling up with a burning sensation, until you had enough. 

You stood in front of his door with a hammering heart. The lock clicked and he peeked his head around the corner. 

Minghao seemed surprised to see you as he opened the door. “Hey, what are you doing here?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” you shrugged, pretending to think, “maybe trying to get back in touch with you so we can get this over with.” 

He leaned against the door. “Okay, what do you have to say?” 

“Why don’t you pick up when I try to call you?” 

“Because I have a right to decline.” 

Your eyes clouded over, piercing right through him. 

Minghao shrugged, your name rolling off his lips so calmly, you got shivers. “You’re not even sure what you’re going to say.”

You crossed your arms and cocked your eyebrow. “I am.” 

He repeated your gesture and straightened his posture. You hated that through all the anger, he still managed to make your heart skip a beat. His eyes still held a softness for you, and you know he was more than open to hear you out. 

You were the one visiting him, after all. 

“Well,” you started and cleared your throat, “I think it’s unfair of you to assume that I don’t know what to say.” 

“Can you prove me wrong, though?” Minghao asked. “Whenever we’re arguing, you say the same thing in five different ways. And frankly, we never get it solved.” 

Before you had a defence at the ready, he cut you off. 

“I’m not going to do it, not like this.” Minghao offered you a small smile. “Figure out what you want first.” 

“Minghao–”

He shut the door. 

You stared at it, head spinning. You were angry, upset, hurt, disappointed and unable to ride out one. You wanted to pounce at the door and scream at him, but you wanted to cry in his arms all the same. 

Instead you ended up back home. 

The bouquet had withered by the time you decided to do something else than go to work, the rose petals that were still clinging on a faint brown. The rest of them were on the kitchen table drying up. 

You shoved your hands into your pockets and walked the block, taking a left and walking straight into the city. You didn’t have a destination in mind, you just needed to catch some fresh air. 

After a good month since your fight with Minghao, the flow hadn’t brought him back to you still. On the contrary, even. You had a feeling he drifted away from you if you didn’t do something soon. 

In all your anger and confusion, you’d stood on his doorstep the night before. Once again, Minghao had opened the door and you even made it into his apartment. The conversation seemed to go well and you were making progress.

Until it was your turn to talk. The conversation had escalated once again and you left with the anger burning your chest to ashes. Everything that he’d said had fallen on deaf ears and you started to realise that the problem wasn’t with Minghao. 

You pushed through the doors. The daisies on your right side were the first thing you smelled, a warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Since your last visit, not much had changed in their display. Some colours had been replaced or switched around to make it more appealing, but that was the biggest change you could find. 

Bowing over the daisies, you inhaled. 

“Look at that.” 

You shot up and looked right in those mischievous eyes. 

“Are you becoming a regular?” The same guy asked, arms crossed behind his back. His lips twisted into a grin. “Welcome back. I guess that you’re still a little clueless?” 

“Yep.” You looked around before your eyes landed on him. “The last bouquet kind of died and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.”

“I expected nothing less.” He beckoned you and started walking. “You’re around more than Minghao and that says a lot. Is something going on?”

You shrugged and crossed your arms over your body. “We’re kind of on a rough patch right now.” 

He hummed and stopped by the counter, leaning on it as he watched his coworker helping someone else. “I think it’s very ironic that you find yourself here of all places.” 

You looked at him with a tilted head. 

“You’re not someone that cares much for flowers,” the guy started. “You’re okay with Minghao decorating your house with it because he loves it, but that’s all. And now you’re in a rough patch and where are you right now? A place that he loves more than you do.” 

You hummed and looked away. 

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re not here without a reason, you just need to know how to return the gesture to him.” 

“Have you ever considered becoming a public speaker?” 

The guy laughed. “Next to being a florist, I also offer free therapy sessions. Part of the job.” His chuckles eased into a smile. “You have no idea the things I’ve seen since working here. Flowers play a bigger role in people’s lives than you might assume.” 

“I get why you and Minghao get along so well,” you remarked. “It’s like hearing him speak as we’re talking right now.”

“Like attracts like.” He winked and patted the counter. “I need to look over deliveries. Take a look around and call for me if you need me.” 

You nodded and watched how he slid behind the counter and disappeared in the back. Walking back to the daisies, you kneeled down. They had all kinds of colours, blending into each other so seamlessly it made you smile. 

The purple ones had been in your house before. You remembered getting a promotion at work, and telling Minghao was the most exciting part of the day. That same night, you had a small bouquet, which included the purple daisies. 

You’d always assumed they were purple because it was your favourite colour, but it was the only time you’d seen them. Faded to the back of your mind, passing it off as something insignificant. 

As if it had never mattered at all.

With a soft sigh, you came back up. You dusted your pants off and straightened your jacket. As you turned around, you bumped into someone. 

“Did I look lost again?” You remarked with a chuckle. When you looked up, Minghao was staring right back at you. 

You froze. 

His eyes scanned you carefully, and you couldn’t help but drown in them. 

“You do look kind of lost,” he finally said. “I thought my mind was playing tricks on me when I saw you here.” 

You shrugged weakly and crossed your arms over your body. 

Minghao nodded at the buckets. “What were you looking at?” 

Your eyes darted to the purple daisies. 

“Ah,” he hummed and bowed down, picking one from the bucket. He observed it before giving it to you. 

You took it carefully and held it to your chest. 

“I know purple is your favourite colour.” He nodded his head at the flower. “That’s not what that daisy is about.” 

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

Minghao placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you further into the shop. The touch was electric, lighting a flame that you thought had long died out. “Purple daisies resemble success, and admiration. When I put them in your living room, I was celebrating your promotion.” 

He picked a pink flower. “Pink lilies bear the same meaning, and they were also in that same bouquet. Admiration and gratitude.” 

You took the lily from him. “What flowers say ‘I’m sorry for everything, please forgive me?’” 

Minghao stopped in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder. 

You took a small step towards him. “I really am sorry, Hao. I don’t want you to feel undervalued, or misunderstood, and I hate myself for not realising earlier that that’s what this is all about.” 

He turned around in full. 

“You know,” you looked up at him with a small smile, “if I would’ve engaged earlier, be more open-minded like you’d tell me,” you nudged Minghao, making him chuckle. “I would’ve realised much sooner that it’s one of the most touching gestures someone has ever made for me. So that’s what I’ll try to do from now on.”

He smiled at you. 

You caressed his cheek. “And hearing you spew these facts out like it’s breathing, it warms my heart, and it actually makes me excited to hear more.”

“I’m sorry too, my love,” Minghao muttered and leaned into your touch. “I’m very quick to jump to conclusions sometimes and it’s unfair to you especially since you need a little longer to gather your thoughts. I should’ve given you proper time and space to do so, instead of pushing the blame all on you.” 

You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest. “We’ll work on this just fine, my love. I’m very sure of it.” 

Minghao pressed a long kiss into your hair. “I love you so much, darling. So so much.”

You looked up at him and smiled. “I love you, too.” 

He kissed you so eagerly that the heat pooled in your stomach. His hands gripped your waist, nails dipping into your sides like you would disappear again. When you pulled him in closer, he chuckled against your lips. 

You pouted when he pulled back. 

“I came here to pick up my order,” he muttered. “I need to get back to work.” 

“See you tonight?” You offered, to which he smiled. 

“You have a key.” 

You pressed one last kiss to his lips and watched him walking to the counter. He was talking to the same guy that had taken you under his wing. 

As Minghao slipped past, he squeezed your waist. “Seungkwan wants to talk to you,” he whispered and kissed your temple. He rushed out of the door and disappeared around the corner. 

You looked over at Seungkwan, who waved at you. With a chuckle, you walked over to him. “What could you possibly need me for?” 

“Let’s make you a bouquet for Minghao,” he said with a smile. “I’ll tell you all I need to know.” 

When you walked out of the shop with the bouquet, you were light as a feather. Your stomach tingled whenever you thought of how Minghao’s eyes would light up, how he would kiss you passionately that you melted in his arms. Since your fight, you hadn’t felt so excited to see him again. 

You knew that he wouldn’t get off work for another hour and set out to his house. The bouquet rested in your hand as you twisted the lock, slipping in before any of his neighbours would see you. 

As you looked around, there wasn’t a flower in sight. 

The empty vases were lined up on the counter on a towel. They looked dried up and you had no trouble believing they’d been there for a couple of days. Purposeless.

You grabbed the vase that Minghao painted himself, tracing the dried streaks with a smile. You filled it with water and put it in, setting the vase on the saloon table in the living room. ‘A center piece’, Minghao had often told you. You hoped that this would meet his requirements. 

Minghao had texted you about dinner, opting that he would get something on his way home. You agreed with a smile. 

When you heard the lock clicking not much later, your heart jumped. 

You rubbed your hands together and balanced from the front to the heel of your feet. 

Minghao pushed the door back into its lock with his hip, the crackling of a plastic bag following him around. When he walked into the living room, he yelped. 

Covering your mouth, you suppressed a giggle. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“What are you already doing here?” His eyes darted to the bouquet on the table and his lips twisted into a smile. “That wasn’t there before.” 

“Happened to come with me,” you watched him set the bag down and observe it. “Seungkwan helped me. It’s not how the professionals do it, but–” 

“It’s perfect.” Minghao looked back at you and opened his arms. “Come here, you.” 

You walked right into his arms, inhaling his citrus, amber scent. You closed your eyes with a hum. “I missed you a lot, Hao.” 

“I you too, my love.” He ran a hand through your hair before pressing a kiss to it. “Let’s eat before dinner gets cold.” 

You peeked inside the bag curiously and smiled brightly. You grabbed the servings and sat down on the ground. “You know, why Seungkwan works in a flower shop is beyond me,” you said and opened the container. 

Minghao chuckled. “He’s a talker, hm?” 

“He is.” You put the other one in front of your boyfriend and grabbed a spoon and a pair of chopsticks. “A good one at that, though. Very convincing.” 

“He’s helped me since the first time I set foot in that place,” he started and stirred his soup. “I just moved to the city and I wanted a good bouquet for my living room.”

“The center piece,” you said in unison. 

Minghao looked at you with a smile before he continued. “He knows everything there is to know and I really formed some kind of friendship with him.” 

“He’s a nice guy.” The broth you sipped from was an explosion of flavours, making you groan. “God, I missed this.” 

“I thought I’d treat you.” 

With a smile, you spent the rest of the dinner catching up with Minghao; work, your parents, your friends. For the first time it wasn’t silent, as if your relationship had completely reinvented itself. 

As Minghao was at the counter cutting the branches of the flowers, you stood behind him, your arms wrapped around him. Your head rested against his back, your eyes closed. “If you cut them at an angle, they’re able to absorb more water,” he told you. “Your beautiful bouquet will stay alive for a very long time.” 

You smiled. “I worked very hard on it.” You peeked up at him. “Can I tell you about the flowers?” 

His smile grew. “I would love to hear it.” 

“I picked the blue orchids first,” you said and looked out of the window. “I had never seen it before, but it’s a way to express that you think of someone as beautiful in a unique way. And Seungkwan told me it’s spiritual so naturally, I had to pick it.” 

“Flattered.” 

You grinned at him. “You should be.” 

“And then you chose red lilies,” Minghao continued, followed by a sheer cut. 

“I know it looks a little odd next to the orchid, but they’re a symbol of love. I thought a red rose was too standard, so Seungkwan showed me these.”

Minghao looked back at you. “You really put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you?” 

“And I’m not even finished,” you said with a small smile, the heat flushing your cheeks. “I did pick white and pink roses because they made me think of you.”

He smiled and put the bouquet back into the vase as you let go of him. “Pink is joy and appreciation.” 

“And white symbolises a fresh start,” you added. You pointed at the daffodils on the side. “Just like those, moving away and transforming.”

“And pink camellias because you missed me.” Minghao bumped your hip. “Sappy.” 

You chuckled and bumped him back. 

He draped an arm around your shoulder and locked you into his side. “Thank you. Truly.” 

You stood on your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll do anything for you.” 

You finally regretted speaking that into existence when you found yourself in the flower shop again a couple of weeks later. Your eyes darted around before you looked back at Minghao. “Seriously?”

“You claim to know so much about this now,” he answered with a shrug. “I would love to see you make a bouquet for your own apartment.”

Shooting him a sweet smile, you traced his arm. “But aren’t you sad that you can’t do it for me anymore?”

“Nope.”

“Was worth a try.” You looked around again and your eyes landed on Seungkwan. When he looked back at you, his eyes lit up. 

He came over hurriedly. “You finally got her here!” 

You arched an eyebrow and turned to Minghao. 

“We’re here for some pieces for her apartment,” he said and placed a hand on the small of your back. “She’s going to pick them out herself, as she’s claiming to have the hang of it.”

Seungkwan bobbed his head, his upper lip curved upwards like he was impressed. He remained where we stood and smiled. “What are you looking for?”

“Something for my kitchen,” you answered and frowned. “Why does this feel like a test?” 

Behind you, Minghao chuckled. He pushed you forward gently and followed you to the daisies. “I told you she would go there first.” 

Seungkwan chuckled and joined you at the front of the shop. Instead of walking after him, you navigated the shop like it was your second home. With a bright smile, you walked out of the shop with the bouquet and your boyfriend back by your side. 

A place that you never thought you would ever step foot in had become like a second home in an oddly beautiful way. After your fight with Minghao, that very shop had brought you back to each other like no flow could. And this time, you wouldn’t drift away from each other anymore. 

🏷: @livmarauder ;@huiimoon ; @yandere-stories

[minhui896]

I loved seeing the flower language being used!! this was honestly so heartwarming from YN’s realization to her solution ❤️❤️

[orbitondgtl]

OH MY GOD HI YOU'RE HERE AGAIN. im so happy to see you in my notifs again and im glad you enjoyed it! 🫶 i enjoyed it too hehehe

[minhui896]

I live in the walls of tags and your room when you’re cooking up fics like this and code 143 teehee <3

[svtts]

CLOSE call

part one here!

pairing: f1 driver! husband! father! yoon jeonghan x wife! mother! fem! reader

genre & warnings: angst, lots of fluff, childbirth

desc: it's eight months after revealing your pregnancy to your husband, and you've gone into labour...whilst jeonghan is on the track in japan..

wc: 2.1k

note: ahh i'm so in love with hannie :3 really tempted to just write a full-length yjh f1 au at this point lol...ᯓ‎𝄞 anyone else but you by the moldy peaches & i've never met anyone i thought i could really love (until i met you) by westside cowboy

Pregnancy is hard, harder than most things life throws at you, harder than anything you could’ve possibly imagined. 

It’s difficult to remember every single supplement in the morning, especially when you’ve spent most of the night over the toilet bowl. It’s difficult to fit your trainers on your swollen feet at week thirty. It’s especially difficult to wave Jeonghan onto a jet and watch him speed at almost two hundred miles per hour on your TV screen. 

Watching the jet door suction shut, the click too familiar now as you sat in your car on the runway, waving innocently to Jeonghan whose eyes didn’t leave your distant figure until you reversed and drove off. 

It was always common knowledge that your pregnancy with Jeonghan wasn’t going to be easy. Especially when you refused to let him skip a season. 

‘You above everything else, baby, that’s what I said in Italy when we slid these rings on our fingers!’ Jeonghan’s voice was raised, not quite shouting, but he held his left hand up, exaggeratedly pointing at his wedding band. 

You sighed, a long one. You were twenty-six weeks pregnant now, and the new season was rolling around rapidly — and with that, Jeonghan’s hesitation to leave his pregnant wife’s side. 

But you insisted. 

You refused to let him stop now, not when the momentum was so strong, his placing on podium last season setting him up for the perfect pole this season. 

‘Jeonghan,’ your bump was particularly visible now, sticking out of your slightly cropped tee as you leaned against the island in the kitchen. ‘Don’t let yourself give this up right now, please.’ 

He was ready to refuse, shake his head almost violently until your glassy eyes met his. You knew how important racing was for him; being here every day would drive him insane. You knew he needed to be out there. ‘Please.’ 

After days of talks between the two of you, he agreed on many conditions. He would not race leading up to your due date. Ferrari could cope without him for one race. If he, god forbid, were involved in any sort of collision, he would step back for the rest of the season, and the moment you needed him, he would drop everything. He wouldn’t hesitate. 

So whilst he lapped around Sazuka, your due date comfortably two weeks away, you were on the way to the hospital, your best friend Seungcheol behind the wheel. 

Jeonghan had thought of every scenario of your labour. Including this. One late night, when you’d found your husband pacing your vast conservatory, face etched with stress, he explained the plan in detail.

If, or when, you were to go into labour whilst he was away, Seungcheol was to call him immediately. In the rare, or not so rare, chance that he was on the track when it happened, Seungcheol was to ring Minghao immediately. 

From there, Minghao was to alert your husband. And Jeonghan would stop, get his car off the track and go straight to the landing strip to fly straight to you. 

‘Simple as that.’ He finished, his hands holding yours tightly as you nodded, agreeing, knowing that he needed this more for his mental health than anything.

Breathing in heavily and exhaling with a painful huff. Sweat slipped down your head like you were in a shower. Your thighs were wet, but you were in too much pain to even think about Cheol’s expensive Audi seats. 

Through the pitching pain, you could hear Cheol’s voice beside you, his engine roaring as he weaved through the busy Seoul streets. 

‘Hao,’ He said, voice slightly shaky as he looked at you, tears running down your face as your contractions overtook your body. 

‘Fuck, it’s time?’ The man’s voice bled through the car speakers, the instant shuffle of commotion caught by the microphone. 

In the humid Japanese climate, Minghao ran across the pit lane. Seungcheol’s one word was enough to spring Jeonghan’s well-rehearsed plan into action. 

The heat stuck to everyone, the blinding track lights making everyone look particularly sickly right now. The CEO couldn’t decide if he felt sick or if everyone around him looked unwell. Gripping his headset, he nodded to the race engineer in silent understanding. 

Letting out a big breath, he let himself be heard by the Ferrari driver, who was on lap thirty-five of fifty-three. 

‘Jeonghan,’ Minghao spoke with deadly calm, despite his horrific nerves. ‘She’s gone into labour, it’s time.’ 

On the track, it felt like the entire world had slowed; his brain was speeding as the surroundings blurred, your husband was processing the information as fast as his car was moving. The cheering of the crowd and the roaring of the engine were deafened as Jeonghan only thought about you, across the East Sea, breathing heavily, your child hours away from being born. 

Back in Seoul, Seungcheol was helping you out of the car, your pants and grunts loud and alerting as he pulled in front of the rather fancy private hospital Jeonghan insisted you attend. 

Seungcheol wasn’t just Jeonghan’s best friend — he was the best man at your wedding, he was there the day you met, the pair of you young and immature as you leaned over the railing in Baku, a microphone in your hand, Jeonghan in a trance as he looked up at you above him. 

He’d drop everything for both of you, his absolute best friends, and it’s how he landed the job of being your makeshift number one in this situation. 

‘Fuck Cheol,’ you tried to bark out a laugh, that turned into a teeth-clenching roar of pain. 

Jeonghan was pulling into the vast landing strip, the jet he’d paid to be prepared at every location so far, ready just as he had anticipated. His mind was racing as he sped, rather illegally, through the streets, wondering how you could be in labour two weeks early when everything was going perfectly.

Without a second thought, he ditched the sports car, chucking the keys to the designated staff before practically sprinting onto the plane, his phone held to his ear. 

‘Choi, this better be going exactly as I planned.’ He tried to joke, but he was tense, strapping himself into the seat as he gripped the phone as if it could ground him. 

‘She’s in,’ His best friend sounded stressed, a heavy sigh escaping with the words. ‘She’s in pain, but the nurses have said everything is healthy.’ 

‘Do-do we have an estimate on timings?’ Jeonghan felt himself beginning to well up, the pressure and anxiety of him missing the birth of your child sitting on his shoulders like the heaviest weight he’d ever felt. 

No race, championship or season had rattled him like this. No amount of looming pre-race anxiety or adrenaline could even begin to compare to what was pumping through his veins at the moment.

‘Nurses said anywhere between three and five hours.’ Seungcheol reassured your stressed husband. ‘Fly safe, Han, I’ll see you soon.’ 

When Jeonghan arrived at the hospital, everything seemed to move in slow motion around him. Seungcheol stood at the door, a scowl on his face, before he enveloped Jeonghan in a hug, an arm around his shoulder as he guided Jeonghan through the endless corridors. 

He listened intently to his best friend’s words but couldn’t escape the ringing that persisted until the door to your suite opened, and like a vacuum seal breaking, sound and movement burst into his periphery. Your husband didn't hesitate; he was at your side instantly, your skin coated with sweat as your hair stuck to your face. 

‘Baby,’ you gritted out, taking in his dishevelled appearance as you turned your head to him, your gorgeous eyes even glowing right now. 

‘My angel,’ he replied, instantly smoothing your hair off your face and kissing the top of your head. 

For the hours to come, Jeonghan didn’t leave your side; he swore he wouldn’t leave your side ever again. He was there, the force of your hand squeezing his harder than any g-force he’d ever felt. He was there, a hand running through your wet hair to attempt to soothe you as you arched back into the pillow. He was there, dabbing your head with a cool towel as your child was born. 

Love swelled out of him that day, blooming into something so beautiful that no feeling came close to the love he felt for you and your child. Tears streaming freely as you held the baby in your arms, Jeonghan’s arm around both of you, his smile wider than any grin he’d ever mustered. 

⏱︎ NINE Months Later

The sun beat down on the vast English countryside, Silverstone shining within the greenery. The cool breeze wisped Jeonghan’s hair as he stood in the paddock, his fire suit tied on his hips. 

Engineers held tablets up to him, pointing out statistics and discussing manoeuvres. It all dulled as you appeared through the paddock door, pushing a stroller with a neat parasol looming over it. 

The pair of you spent the first five months of your son’s life cocooned away in your house on the outskirts of Seoul. Spending sleepless nights together, cooing at the small being as he babbled in your expansive garden and nestling him to bed wrapped in both of your arms. 

However, as always, another season rolled around, and as a compromise, you agreed to come along, baby and wife at each and every race. Little ear defenders on his son’s ears as soon as his father’s booming engine powered up. 

Jeonghan’s changing room in the motorhome became home to a cot, a fridge full of milk and a nappy bin. And, even on the hardest days, he knew he’d have it no other way. 

Without hesitation, Jeonghan stepped away from the fuss, nodding absentmindedly at his crew, and he beelined to you. A large and enthusiastic grin on his lips at your wave, his arm pulling you into him, his lips landing on yours like they were magnets.

The scary and rather sassy driver became a muddle of coos as he leaned down to see his son in the stroller. The little being began to giggle and kick at the sight of his father’s smiley face. 

‘Hey little one,’ he said softly, your arm rubbing his back as you swooned for your husband and son, both of the boys in your life bringing such intense and immense joy. 

Jeonghan picked his son up, ever so cautiously and cradled him in his arms, letting you park the stroller out of the way as the crew became enchanted with the sight of their fiercest driver becoming a mush of cuteness with his son in his arms. 

‘Mother of the year,’ Minghao greeted you, pulling you into a hug. 

‘Minghao,’ you replied happily, letting him sling his arm around you as you both observed Jeonghan softly. Your husband was introducing the baby to everyone, letting your son grip the finger of the pr manager — who, despite all the shit you’d both put her through, would do it again in a heartbeat. 

‘How is it going?’ He questioned as you both leaned over the small balcony. 

‘Good,’ you say, Jeonghan turning to you with a smile that was reserved just for you, your gaze catching his milky chocolate eyes across the paddock as he winked at you. ‘Great, in fact.’ 

Minghao ruffled your hair, letting a sweet sigh leave his mouth. ‘It’s so lovely to have you here, he seems more…’ the man breathed out, pondering on his next words, ‘calm, when you’re both close by.’ 

For the first time in a long while, you felt truly relaxed, truly at home. It didn’t matter that it was the paddock, surrounded by commotion or disarray, because Jeonghan was here, stealing loving glances at you, your son was here, healthy and gabbling away and stealing the attention of one of F1’s most prestigious teams, your family, each and every person in this paddock was here, caring for you and your husband with such tenderness at times it felt unbelievable. 

As Jeonghan pulled up to the start line today, he glanced up to the balcony, catching your figure, your smile noticeable through the hordes of people, your son bouncing on your hip, his ear protection almost flooding his head as you pointed at his father’s car. 

Now he had two people to win for. There was always the team and the fans. But his wife and his son trumped everyone else a million times over. He forced himself to look away and towards the start line, his race engineer speaking over the headset. 

‘Make them proud, Jeonghan.’ 

‘I always do.’ 

[orbitondgtl]

pairing: bf!minghao x gf!reader

summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, you visit the flower shop that he’s a regular at, although you’re not entirely sure what your purpose is. Coincidentally, the flower shop becomes the very reason you can save your relationship from falling apart

wc: 3,937

tags: non-idol au, first blooms collab, tension, first fight, first reconciliation, it’s very tense, angst with a happy ending, fluff at the ending, light pda

a/n: so excited to be sharing my fic for the first blooms collab by @svthub! make sure to check the other fics as well, you're going to have a blast <3

You had no idea what you were going to get yourself into. 

Tucked away underneath an umbrella, you stared at the sign on the shop window. Minghao was always the one decorating your place with flowers, always knowing exactly what would fit the season, the scenery, even your mood. 

Now you had to do it yourself because your flowers were dying in your windowsill. Minghao wouldn’t be around to save them anytime soon. You never had much with flowers, but he loved it so you let him go crazy. 

And honestly? Everything he put in there was gorgeous. 

The thought tightened your chest. You nearly turned around and went home crying, but you pushed through the doors anyway. 

You closed your umbrella and left it in the holder with the others. The smell of fresh flowers was all around you, and you recognised the daisies that were on your right. Observing them closely, tears welled in your eyes. 

A stupid argument had completely escalated. An argument that you had a thousand times before, that led to nowhere, had made everything worse. When you thought about the way you started screaming at each other, the air punched out of your lungs. You’d never seen Minghao angry before – irritated at best – but you had ticked him off so badly that the vein in his neck visibly pulsed. The entire apartment complex could hear him, even though he switched to Chinese every few sentences. 

Since that night, you hadn’t seen or spoken to him anymore. That was now two weeks ago and you were in a flower shop, looking as lost as you were. You were still not sure whether you were truly there to replace your dying flowers or if you didn’t know where else to go. 

Strolling past the displays, you stopped in front of a bouquet of roses. 

Minghao had often talked about them. Especially the pink and white flowers had always appealed to him and you’d never been able to pinpoint why. Just like many of his preferences, the mystery had left you wanting to know more. When you asked, you expected a very specific answer, something direct and tangible. 

More often than not, he told you that some things didn’t need an explanation. It was a feeling you had and it left you with more questions than answers. You wanted things figured out, while Minghao was someone who could wait and see how things would go. ‘Go with the flow’, as he would’ve told you. 

His flow didn’t exactly bring him back to you yet. 

You headed into the back of the shop. Lavender, something you absolutely hated no matter how many times Minghao tried to introduce it to you. The smell was overbearing and overwhelming. 

You turned back around, bumping right into a guy, guessing him to be around your age. Muttering a quick apology, you stepped out of the way, but he chuckled. 

“I was actually here to help you,” he said and crossed his arms behind his back. “First time here?” 

“Do I look that obviously out of place?” 

He flashed a smile. 

You clicked your tongue. “Alright. Loud and clear.” 

The guy chuckled and started walking. “The actual reason is that I haven’t seen you around here. I would recognise you if you were a regular.” 

“Ah.” You trailed after him. “My… um, my boyfriend comes here often. If anyone’s the regular, it’s him.” 

He looked back at you and narrowed his eyes, scanning you up and down. “Your boyfriend…” 

“I think.”

Mentally you were already strangling yourself for letting it slip out, but he ignored it to your surprise. You breathed out softly and stopped when he did. 

“Is he broad and muscular?”

You couldn’t help but snort before composing yourself. You shook your head. “Sorry. No, he’s not.”

“Guessing by that reaction, he’s the opposite.”

“I wouldn’t describe him as ‘broad’, no.”

An amused smile decorated the man’s face. “Longer blond hair?”

Your stomach tingled. “As of recently, yes.” 

“Oh, Minghao,” he cooed and clasped his hands together. “He would be laughing in my face if I told him that you were here.” 

You tilted your head with a frown. 

The man took you to the front of the shop, where you were admiring the daisies earlier. He grabbed a couple of white ones out of the bucket and turned around. “Minghao always comes here to pick out flowers for your house then, I assume, and he talks about you on many occasions.” 

He walked to a couple of other buckets and picked some pink flowers. “I vividly remember him telling me that you would never be found here. Look at you now!” 

You blinked a couple of times. It was the first time you ever saw him, but he was spewing information like he knew you better than you knew yourself, talking like he was catching up with an old friend. 

With a weak nod, you looked at the flowers in his hand. “Minghao was completely right in saying that.” 

“What brings you here?” 

You looked at him, opening your mouth to say something before closing it. Shrugging, you shot him a small smile. “I don’t know, to be honest. It just felt right coming here.” 

He returned the smile warmly before handing you the bouquet. “You made the right choice, then.” 

The bouquet had been sitting in a vase in your kitchen for days. You’d been pondering over what to say to Minghao and how you were going to approach him in the first place. It was almost three weeks ago since your last contact and you were reaching your final straw. 

When you called him, you got voicemail. Expecting him to call back, you left him be until a call would never come. Slowly, the empty feeling in your chest started filling up with a burning sensation, until you had enough. 

You stood in front of his door with a hammering heart. The lock clicked and he peeked his head around the corner. 

Minghao seemed surprised to see you as he opened the door. “Hey, what are you doing here?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” you shrugged, pretending to think, “maybe trying to get back in touch with you so we can get this over with.” 

He leaned against the door. “Okay, what do you have to say?” 

“Why don’t you pick up when I try to call you?” 

“Because I have a right to decline.” 

Your eyes clouded over, piercing right through him. 

Minghao shrugged, your name rolling off his lips so calmly, you got shivers. “You’re not even sure what you’re going to say.”

You crossed your arms and cocked your eyebrow. “I am.” 

He repeated your gesture and straightened his posture. You hated that through all the anger, he still managed to make your heart skip a beat. His eyes still held a softness for you, and you know he was more than open to hear you out. 

You were the one visiting him, after all. 

“Well,” you started and cleared your throat, “I think it’s unfair of you to assume that I don’t know what to say.” 

“Can you prove me wrong, though?” Minghao asked. “Whenever we’re arguing, you say the same thing in five different ways. And frankly, we never get it solved.” 

Before you had a defence at the ready, he cut you off. 

“I’m not going to do it, not like this.” Minghao offered you a small smile. “Figure out what you want first.” 

“Minghao–”

He shut the door. 

You stared at it, head spinning. You were angry, upset, hurt, disappointed and unable to ride out one. You wanted to pounce at the door and scream at him, but you wanted to cry in his arms all the same. 

Instead you ended up back home. 

The bouquet had withered by the time you decided to do something else than go to work, the rose petals that were still clinging on a faint brown. The rest of them were on the kitchen table drying up. 

You shoved your hands into your pockets and walked the block, taking a left and walking straight into the city. You didn’t have a destination in mind, you just needed to catch some fresh air. 

After a good month since your fight with Minghao, the flow hadn’t brought him back to you still. On the contrary, even. You had a feeling he drifted away from you if you didn’t do something soon. 

In all your anger and confusion, you’d stood on his doorstep the night before. Once again, Minghao had opened the door and you even made it into his apartment. The conversation seemed to go well and you were making progress.

Until it was your turn to talk. The conversation had escalated once again and you left with the anger burning your chest to ashes. Everything that he’d said had fallen on deaf ears and you started to realise that the problem wasn’t with Minghao. 

You pushed through the doors. The daisies on your right side were the first thing you smelled, a warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Since your last visit, not much had changed in their display. Some colours had been replaced or switched around to make it more appealing, but that was the biggest change you could find. 

Bowing over the daisies, you inhaled. 

“Look at that.” 

You shot up and looked right in those mischievous eyes. 

“Are you becoming a regular?” The same guy asked, arms crossed behind his back. His lips twisted into a grin. “Welcome back. I guess that you’re still a little clueless?” 

“Yep.” You looked around before your eyes landed on him. “The last bouquet kind of died and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.”

“I expected nothing less.” He beckoned you and started walking. “You’re around more than Minghao and that says a lot. Is something going on?”

You shrugged and crossed your arms over your body. “We’re kind of on a rough patch right now.” 

He hummed and stopped by the counter, leaning on it as he watched his coworker helping someone else. “I think it’s very ironic that you find yourself here of all places.” 

You looked at him with a tilted head. 

“You’re not someone that cares much for flowers,” the guy started. “You’re okay with Minghao decorating your house with it because he loves it, but that’s all. And now you’re in a rough patch and where are you right now? A place that he loves more than you do.” 

You hummed and looked away. 

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re not here without a reason, you just need to know how to return the gesture to him.” 

“Have you ever considered becoming a public speaker?” 

The guy laughed. “Next to being a florist, I also offer free therapy sessions. Part of the job.” His chuckles eased into a smile. “You have no idea the things I’ve seen since working here. Flowers play a bigger role in people’s lives than you might assume.” 

“I get why you and Minghao get along so well,” you remarked. “It’s like hearing him speak as we’re talking right now.”

“Like attracts like.” He winked and patted the counter. “I need to look over deliveries. Take a look around and call for me if you need me.” 

You nodded and watched how he slid behind the counter and disappeared in the back. Walking back to the daisies, you kneeled down. They had all kinds of colours, blending into each other so seamlessly it made you smile. 

The purple ones had been in your house before. You remembered getting a promotion at work, and telling Minghao was the most exciting part of the day. That same night, you had a small bouquet, which included the purple daisies. 

You’d always assumed they were purple because it was your favourite colour, but it was the only time you’d seen them. Faded to the back of your mind, passing it off as something insignificant. 

As if it had never mattered at all.

With a soft sigh, you came back up. You dusted your pants off and straightened your jacket. As you turned around, you bumped into someone. 

“Did I look lost again?” You remarked with a chuckle. When you looked up, Minghao was staring right back at you. 

You froze. 

His eyes scanned you carefully, and you couldn’t help but drown in them. 

“You do look kind of lost,” he finally said. “I thought my mind was playing tricks on me when I saw you here.” 

You shrugged weakly and crossed your arms over your body. 

Minghao nodded at the buckets. “What were you looking at?” 

Your eyes darted to the purple daisies. 

“Ah,” he hummed and bowed down, picking one from the bucket. He observed it before giving it to you. 

You took it carefully and held it to your chest. 

“I know purple is your favourite colour.” He nodded his head at the flower. “That’s not what that daisy is about.” 

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

Minghao placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you further into the shop. The touch was electric, lighting a flame that you thought had long died out. “Purple daisies resemble success, and admiration. When I put them in your living room, I was celebrating your promotion.” 

He picked a pink flower. “Pink lilies bear the same meaning, and they were also in that same bouquet. Admiration and gratitude.” 

You took the lily from him. “What flowers say ‘I’m sorry for everything, please forgive me?’” 

Minghao stopped in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder. 

You took a small step towards him. “I really am sorry, Hao. I don’t want you to feel undervalued, or misunderstood, and I hate myself for not realising earlier that that’s what this is all about.” 

He turned around in full. 

“You know,” you looked up at him with a small smile, “if I would’ve engaged earlier, be more open-minded like you’d tell me,” you nudged Minghao, making him chuckle. “I would’ve realised much sooner that it’s one of the most touching gestures someone has ever made for me. So that’s what I’ll try to do from now on.”

He smiled at you. 

You caressed his cheek. “And hearing you spew these facts out like it’s breathing, it warms my heart, and it actually makes me excited to hear more.”

“I’m sorry too, my love,” Minghao muttered and leaned into your touch. “I’m very quick to jump to conclusions sometimes and it’s unfair to you especially since you need a little longer to gather your thoughts. I should’ve given you proper time and space to do so, instead of pushing the blame all on you.” 

You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest. “We’ll work on this just fine, my love. I’m very sure of it.” 

Minghao pressed a long kiss into your hair. “I love you so much, darling. So so much.”

You looked up at him and smiled. “I love you, too.” 

He kissed you so eagerly that the heat pooled in your stomach. His hands gripped your waist, nails dipping into your sides like you would disappear again. When you pulled him in closer, he chuckled against your lips. 

You pouted when he pulled back. 

“I came here to pick up my order,” he muttered. “I need to get back to work.” 

“See you tonight?” You offered, to which he smiled. 

“You have a key.” 

You pressed one last kiss to his lips and watched him walking to the counter. He was talking to the same guy that had taken you under his wing. 

As Minghao slipped past, he squeezed your waist. “Seungkwan wants to talk to you,” he whispered and kissed your temple. He rushed out of the door and disappeared around the corner. 

You looked over at Seungkwan, who waved at you. With a chuckle, you walked over to him. “What could you possibly need me for?” 

“Let’s make you a bouquet for Minghao,” he said with a smile. “I’ll tell you all I need to know.” 

When you walked out of the shop with the bouquet, you were light as a feather. Your stomach tingled whenever you thought of how Minghao’s eyes would light up, how he would kiss you passionately that you melted in his arms. Since your fight, you hadn’t felt so excited to see him again. 

You knew that he wouldn’t get off work for another hour and set out to his house. The bouquet rested in your hand as you twisted the lock, slipping in before any of his neighbours would see you. 

As you looked around, there wasn’t a flower in sight. 

The empty vases were lined up on the counter on a towel. They looked dried up and you had no trouble believing they’d been there for a couple of days. Purposeless.

You grabbed the vase that Minghao painted himself, tracing the dried streaks with a smile. You filled it with water and put it in, setting the vase on the saloon table in the living room. ‘A center piece’, Minghao had often told you. You hoped that this would meet his requirements. 

Minghao had texted you about dinner, opting that he would get something on his way home. You agreed with a smile. 

When you heard the lock clicking not much later, your heart jumped. 

You rubbed your hands together and balanced from the front to the heel of your feet. 

Minghao pushed the door back into its lock with his hip, the crackling of a plastic bag following him around. When he walked into the living room, he yelped. 

Covering your mouth, you suppressed a giggle. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“What are you already doing here?” His eyes darted to the bouquet on the table and his lips twisted into a smile. “That wasn’t there before.” 

“Happened to come with me,” you watched him set the bag down and observe it. “Seungkwan helped me. It’s not how the professionals do it, but–” 

“It’s perfect.” Minghao looked back at you and opened his arms. “Come here, you.” 

You walked right into his arms, inhaling his citrus, amber scent. You closed your eyes with a hum. “I missed you a lot, Hao.” 

“I you too, my love.” He ran a hand through your hair before pressing a kiss to it. “Let’s eat before dinner gets cold.” 

You peeked inside the bag curiously and smiled brightly. You grabbed the servings and sat down on the ground. “You know, why Seungkwan works in a flower shop is beyond me,” you said and opened the container. 

Minghao chuckled. “He’s a talker, hm?” 

“He is.” You put the other one in front of your boyfriend and grabbed a spoon and a pair of chopsticks. “A good one at that, though. Very convincing.” 

“He’s helped me since the first time I set foot in that place,” he started and stirred his soup. “I just moved to the city and I wanted a good bouquet for my living room.”

“The center piece,” you said in unison. 

Minghao looked at you with a smile before he continued. “He knows everything there is to know and I really formed some kind of friendship with him.” 

“He’s a nice guy.” The broth you sipped from was an explosion of flavours, making you groan. “God, I missed this.” 

“I thought I’d treat you.” 

With a smile, you spent the rest of the dinner catching up with Minghao; work, your parents, your friends. For the first time it wasn’t silent, as if your relationship had completely reinvented itself. 

As Minghao was at the counter cutting the branches of the flowers, you stood behind him, your arms wrapped around him. Your head rested against his back, your eyes closed. “If you cut them at an angle, they’re able to absorb more water,” he told you. “Your beautiful bouquet will stay alive for a very long time.” 

You smiled. “I worked very hard on it.” You peeked up at him. “Can I tell you about the flowers?” 

His smile grew. “I would love to hear it.” 

“I picked the blue orchids first,” you said and looked out of the window. “I had never seen it before, but it’s a way to express that you think of someone as beautiful in a unique way. And Seungkwan told me it’s spiritual so naturally, I had to pick it.” 

“Flattered.” 

You grinned at him. “You should be.” 

“And then you chose red lilies,” Minghao continued, followed by a sheer cut. 

“I know it looks a little odd next to the orchid, but they’re a symbol of love. I thought a red rose was too standard, so Seungkwan showed me these.”

Minghao looked back at you. “You really put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you?” 

“And I’m not even finished,” you said with a small smile, the heat flushing your cheeks. “I did pick white and pink roses because they made me think of you.”

He smiled and put the bouquet back into the vase as you let go of him. “Pink is joy and appreciation.” 

“And white symbolises a fresh start,” you added. You pointed at the daffodils on the side. “Just like those, moving away and transforming.”

“And pink camellias because you missed me.” Minghao bumped your hip. “Sappy.” 

You chuckled and bumped him back. 

He draped an arm around your shoulder and locked you into his side. “Thank you. Truly.” 

You stood on your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll do anything for you.” 

You finally regretted speaking that into existence when you found yourself in the flower shop again a couple of weeks later. Your eyes darted around before you looked back at Minghao. “Seriously?”

“You claim to know so much about this now,” he answered with a shrug. “I would love to see you make a bouquet for your own apartment.”

Shooting him a sweet smile, you traced his arm. “But aren’t you sad that you can’t do it for me anymore?”

“Nope.”

“Was worth a try.” You looked around again and your eyes landed on Seungkwan. When he looked back at you, his eyes lit up. 

He came over hurriedly. “You finally got her here!” 

You arched an eyebrow and turned to Minghao. 

“We’re here for some pieces for her apartment,” he said and placed a hand on the small of your back. “She’s going to pick them out herself, as she’s claiming to have the hang of it.”

Seungkwan bobbed his head, his upper lip curved upwards like he was impressed. He remained where we stood and smiled. “What are you looking for?”

“Something for my kitchen,” you answered and frowned. “Why does this feel like a test?” 

Behind you, Minghao chuckled. He pushed you forward gently and followed you to the daisies. “I told you she would go there first.” 

Seungkwan chuckled and joined you at the front of the shop. Instead of walking after him, you navigated the shop like it was your second home. With a bright smile, you walked out of the shop with the bouquet and your boyfriend back by your side. 

A place that you never thought you would ever step foot in had become like a second home in an oddly beautiful way. After your fight with Minghao, that very shop had brought you back to each other like no flow could. And this time, you wouldn’t drift away from each other anymore. 

🏷: @livmarauder ;@huiimoon ; @yandere-stories

[minhui896]

I loved seeing the flower language being used!! this was honestly so heartwarming from YN’s realization to her solution ❤️❤️

[maisonmilli]

hii could i request a scoups fanfic. pls where hes ur husband:

You come home from work exhausted. He’s at his desk doing some work, typing away (ugh his hands especially with his ringss) and looking sooo fine. Even though he’s busy, he notices you walking past, trying not to disturb him, and calls you over. He sits you down on his lap and asks about your day. He’s still typing while you talk, but he’s listening so attentively, asking questions back. It’s just very meaningful, especially when you come home after a tough work day.

the way home feels softer with him — s.coups

🎧 now playing: Same dream, same mind, same night — SEVENTEEN

“you don’t have to pretend you’re okay around me.”

The apartment was quiet when you stepped inside.Not silent never silent when Seungcheol was home.

There was always something : the soft clicking of his keyboard, the low hum of music from his speakers, the occasional sigh when he got stuck on work. Familiar sounds. Comforting sounds.

Tonight, the clicking reached you first.

You slipped your shoes off carefully by the door, shoulders aching from a day that felt ten hours too long. Your bag nearly slid off your shoulder as you walked past his office space, already planning to shower and collapse into bed without saying much. Seungcheol looked devastating.

White t-shirt. Glasses sitting low on his nose. Dark hair slightly messy from running his hands through it too much. Rings glinting against the keyboard as his fingers moved quickly across the keys.

God.

You tried not to stare.He noticed anyway. “Baby.” Your steps paused immediately.You peeked toward him. “Hm?” His eyes flickered up from the screen, softening the second they landed on you. “Come here.” “I don’t wanna disturb you,” you murmured. “You’re working.” “Come here anyway.”

There was no arguing with that voice. You walked over slowly, exhaustion practically dragging behind you, and the moment you got close enough, Seungcheol reached for your wrist gently. Before you could react, he tugged you down onto his lap with practiced ease.

You let out a tired little sound, instinctively wrapping an arm around his shoulders to steady yourself. “There she is,” he murmured quietly. The warmth of him hit you immediately. Warm hands. Warm chest. Warm voice. Home.

His arm settled around your waist while his other hand returned to the keyboard, fingers resuming their rhythm like nothing happened. “How was work?” You laughed weakly. “Horrible.” “Mm?” His brows pinched slightly. “That bad?” You nodded against his shoulder.

“One customer yelled at me because they forgot their own appointment time, my manager kept changing everything last minute, and I skipped lunch because we were busy.”

Seungcheol clicked his tongue softly under his breath. “That’s why you have a headache.” You blinked. “How did you know I had a headache?” His fingers paused for half a second before continuing again. “You keep rubbing this side of your forehead when you get one.”

The casualness of it made your chest ache a little. Because of course he noticed. Of course he did. “You ate anything at all?” he asked. “A granola bar.” He looked away from the monitor finally, giving you a look. “That’s not food.”

“I know.”

“No, baby, seriously.”

You sighed dramatically into his neck. “I knowww.”

A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest. His hand squeezed your waist once before he continued typing, eyes scanning something on the screen while still listening carefully to every word you said. And somehow, that was the part that always got you. Not grand gestures. Not expensive gifts. Not even the way he could make your heart stop with one look.It was this.

The way he made space for you even in the middle of his own chaos. Like loving you wasn’t something extra he had to fit into his day. It was natural. Essential. “What happened after that?” he asked suddenly. You lifted your head. “You were listening?” He gave you an offended look. “Obviously I was listening.”

“You were literally answering emails.”

“And?”

You laughed for real this time, the first genuine one all day. A tiny victorious smile tugged at the corner of his mouth the moment he heard it. There it is, his expression seemed to say. That was what he’d been trying to get back all along.

You kept talking after that. About the rude customer. About your annoying coworker. About how exhausted you felt lately. And Seungcheol listened to every single thing, occasionally asking questions, occasionally kissing your temple absentmindedly while typing with one hand.

At some point, his fingers slowed. Then stopped completely. You looked at the screen.His work document was untouched for almost ten minutes. “Cheol,” you whispered, “you stopped working.”

“Mhm.”

“So finish.”

“In a minute.” He leaned back slightly in the chair, tightening his arms around you until you were practically melting into him. “You looked sad when you came home.” Something in your throat tightened painfully.

Not because he said it dramatically. Not because he tried too hard. But because he noticed. Again. His thumb rubbed softly against your side. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay around me, you know.” Your eyes burned a little from sheer exhaustion.

“I know.” He pressed a slow kiss against your forehead.“You work too hard.” “Says you.” “Yeah, but I have you to take care of me.” You stared at him for a second. Then groaned quietly and buried your face into his shoulder again. “You’re so unfairly husband-coded.” His laugh filled the room instantly. “‘Husband-coded?’”

“Yes.”

“I am your husband.”

“Exactly. It’s sickening.”

“Mm.” He kissed the top of your head. “Good.”

And for the first time all day, the exhaustion didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

[nonranghaes]

soonyoung's cheek presses against your shoulder as the two of you laze around in your hotel room. you have plans to go back out tonight, to have a nice dinner together to celebrate your birthday... but it's still hot out, and your morning had been filled with sightseeing and finding souvenirs to take home to your loved ones. there's a movie playing on the TV that neither of you are paying too much attention to. soonyoung's on his phone, responding to a text from his mom, while you're thanking various people for birthday messages.

he stretches, like a cat, and then settles, one of the legs entangling with your own. he lets out this blissful sigh, and then he looks up to study your face for a moment. "are you happy?"

"hm?" you turn after sending off the last text, clicking your phone off. "what do you mean?"

"are you happy here?" he gestures vaguely to the room around you. it's your first vacation in a while, and one he'd gently pushed you to go for (whether you came here alone or with him). "it's was busier this morning than i thought it'd be. i know you like your space."

you do, but soonyoung's the kind of person who it doesn't feel like a drain on your social battery to engage with. at least most of the time--the exception is when he's with some of his more social friends, since that's when you're just along for the ride and watching him thrive, all while knowing he'll knock out the second the two of you get back to your bed at the end of the day. "i'm okay." you turn over, pressing a kiss against his temple. "were you worried?"

"it's your birthday," he says, arms coming to wrap around you. "i don't want you to be unhappy today."

he's so sweet, and it makes you smile hard enough that your nose wrinkles a little. "cute," you hum. "i'm happy. you make me happy."

his nose scrunches, too, when he smiles. "yeah?" he steals a kiss. "then happy birthday. you're my favorite person to be lazy with."

you just burst into giggles, and find refuge in his presence. the two of you will go back out in a bit to face the world again, to be social in that touristy way of talking about home and why you're traveling and where all you've been if someone prods for that information... but for now, soonyoung's arms are a place of peace.

(and cat videos, once you turn back around so that he can hold up his phone for the two of you to watch something silly while your social battery recharges.)

[jihyun-verse]

ᝰ.ᐟ A Very Jealous Tangerine

summary: The day had been going extremely well for Seungkwan. It was his sister’s wedding, his family is currently in Seoul, and Jihyun—who was already an unofficial member of the family— was beside him through it all. Unfortunately for him, however, his girlfriend is extremely beautiful, effortlessly charming, and completely capable of turning everyone’s heads the moment she walked into the venue.

timeline: may 2026

wc: 5.24k

warning: slightly suggestive, public intimacy

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ # 𝙝𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚 masterlist

The wedding hall was already busy when Seungkwan and Jihyun arrived. 

They two directly came from their shared apartment since they had a schedule last night and came home a bit late. Jihyun did her own hair and make-up, as well as Seungkwan’s styling for the day. 

Staff members were busy arranging the flower arrangements inside the venue, photographers were already setting up their equipment, and close relatives of the bride and groom had already started arriving, greeting each other warmly. 

Meanwhile, Seungkwan looked like he has been smiling nonstop ever since they left their apartment.

“Careful.” he said softly while holding Jihyun’s hand, helping her get out of their car. 

As they walked across the lobby, Seungkwan suddenly bent forward and whispered  to Jihyun, “You look really pretty today”, his eyes literally shining as he looked at her. 

Jihyun looked at him and smiled immediately, lightly slapping his arm. “What do you mean? You literally watched me get ready earlier.” 

“Nothing. I just wanted to tell you again.” he said, giggling as he tightened his hold around her hand. 

Jihyun giggled as her face turned a soft shade of pink, clearly flustered at his compliment. 

The two walked hand in hand towards the private hall where his family was already waiting. 

The moment they entered, they were automatically welcomed by a very excited voice. 

“Omo, Jihyun-ah!” Seungkwan’s mother immediately greeted, as she walked towards the two. 

Before Seungkwan  could even greet his mother properly, she was already pulling Jihyun towards her as she hugged her affectionately, to which Jihyun also returned as she greets his mom warmly. 

“Aigoo, you’re so pretty today too,” she said, as she fixed the loose strands of hair near Jihyun’s face. “Seriously… our Jihyun is too pretty, really..” 

“Eomma,” Seungkwan said, his tone already complaining, while pouting. “How about me? I’m here too.”

That’s when his mother finally let go of Jihyun and turned to him. “Of course, you look good too”, she said. 

“It’s just that Jihyun looks slightly prettier.” 

“Wah..” he said, exhaling. 

Jihyun burst out laughing beside him while Seungkwan stared at the two of them in betrayal. 

“You raised me for twenty-eight years, but you prefer Jihyun more than me?” he said, still pouting. 

“Ahh, that’s okay! Don’t be too dramatic.” his mother said casually. She left the two for a while as she greeted other relatives. 

“Unbelievable.” 

Jihyun laughed harder as Seungkwan continued sulking beside her. 

Honestly, none of this was unusual anymore. 

Over the years, Seungkwan’s family have grown extremely close to Jihyun to the point where she naturally blended into every family gathering without effort. His parents adored her openly, his sisters treated her like an actual family, and even his relatives were casual with her because they often go to Jeju together. 

At this point, the only thing technically separating her from officially being part of the family was that piece of paper called ‘marriage certificate’ and the fact that the public still didn’t know they were dating. 

“Oh! Jihyun is here today!” One of Seungkwan’s aunts said as she approached them with a bright smile before lightly patting Seungkwan’s arm teasingly. 

“Is it safe to say that the next wedding we’ll be attending would be yours?” she said with a teasing smile as she looked at the two. 

The moment those words left her mouth, Seungkwan nearly choked. “Auntie!” he yelped immediately. 

Meanwhile, Jihyun’s eyes widened before she burst into laughter beside him. 

His aunt looked between them in confusion. “What? Not yet?” she asked, as if disappointed that her favorite nephew is not yet married. 

“Well.. maybe not yet immediately, but soon.” Seungkwan answered, his face and ears slowly getting red. Jihyun nodded slowly beside him as well. 

His aunt smiled and nodded before walking away casually, completely unaware that she nearly caused Seungkwan to have a cardiac arrest on the spot. 

The teasing happened again when his cousins arrived. Others asked them when the wedding bells would ring  for the both of them, while some literally called Jihyun Dongseo and Sae-eonnie, which are used to address a cousin’s wife. 

This was one of the usual happenings whenever their family sees the two, whether it was his family or hers. The constant questioning of when they were getting married. 

The two have always answered vaguely, simply saying ‘soon’, or even just smiling whenever the topic is brought up by someone. 

What they didn’t know is that Jihyun and Seungkwan have already talked about it. But for now, that information is just for the two of them. 

Jihyun continued giggling beside Seungkwan as she teased him. “Your face looks really red, Oppa. You look like a very ripe tangerine right now.” 

“Stop it!” he said, whining, to which Jihyun laughed harder at. 

He pouted at her for a moment before suddenly wrapping his arms around her, gently burying his face in the crook of her neck. 

Jihyun laughed softly at the gesture and returned his hug. “Okay~ Sorry about that.” She said softly as she rubbed her hands that were resting on his back. 

Seungkwan broke the hug and stared at her, as if memorizing her face, before sighing dramatically under his breath. 

From the moment Seungkwan saw her earlier that morning wearing the soft champagne-colored dress she picked specifically for his sister’s wedding, he already knew that today would be dangerous for his sanity. 

She looked extremely pretty today. And not just that, seeing her blend well with his family is making him feel extremely emotional. Not to mention that they’re currently at his sister’s wedding. 

Before he could spiral further into his thoughts, Jihyun suddenly reached up to his hair and fixed it slightly. “You okay?” She said as he smiled at him. 

His gaze stayed on her face the entire time. “Yes.” He answered, smiling at her. His hands came up to cradle the side of her neck before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Let’s go?” 

Jihyun hummed and nodded. Seungkwan reached for her hand and held it gently as they  walked towards the Ceremony Hall. 

They were walking hand in hand, when Seungkwan suddenly spoke. “Stay beside me today, okay?” he said cutely, making  Jihyun smile. 

“Why?” 

Seungkwan stared at her for another second before answering, “Because.. You look too pretty today.”

Jihyun’s expression instantly broke into an embarrassed laughter. “Yah! Stop it!” 

“I’m serious tho?” Seungkwan said, and smiled to himself after watching her fail to hide her shy expression. 

At that moment, Seungkwan felt genuinely happy. It was a good day—his sister’s wedding, after all. It was a day meant for celebration. 

Unfortunately for him, not all the guests had arrived yet.

By the time the wedding ceremony officially ended and the reception began, the wedding hall transformed into something much livelier. 

Soft music filled the hall while the guests slowly dispersed towards the buffet area, greeting one another warmly as they reached a glass of champagne. Some have already started grabbing food from the table, while others have remained seated on their seats. 

The atmosphere became much more relaxed, as the sound of people’s laughter and interaction filled the space. 

However, unfortunately for Seungkwan, this is where his suffering begins. 

Oh wait. Scratch that. His suffering began way earlier, during the ceremony.

Originally, he planned on sitting with Jihyun at the front, together with his mom, during the ceremony. It completely slipped his mind that she wasn’t officially part of the family, hence she was seated with the members while Seungkwan remained closer to his family for most of the official program. 

And even during the ceremony itself, he already kept glancing towards the members’ table every few minutes to check on her. 

Unfortunately for Seungkwan, that seating arrangement continued up until the reception in the Dining Hall. The members were grouped into two, seated together, while Seungkwan was seated with his family.

Meanwhile, Jihyun was completely unaware. 

She sat comfortably beside the members the entire time, occasionally laughing quietly at what the members were talking about while Seungkwan watched her from afar, eager to finally sit with her and the members. 

At one point, their eyes met for a second across the hall. Jihyun smiled at Seungkwan, to which he smiled back and nodded, as if reassuring her he’s doing fine. 

His gaze lingered at her as she resumed talking to the members, when suddenly, something made his smile disappear immediately. 

Someone approached Jihyun. 

At first it was okay. He bowed and introduced himself. But then, he even went to the extent of leaning down the table just to talk to her. Completely ignoring the other members seated within the same table. 

At that time, Mingyu, Dokyeom, Jeonghan, and Shua who was seated with her were already looking at the guy, weirded out by the situation. 

The guy keeps talking to Jihyun, saying that he has always wanted to meet her, and that she looks really pretty in person. 

Jeonghan, who was looking at him the entire time, couldn't help but to step up. “Hello?” he said, sarcastically masked in a playful tone. 

The guys looked up, and that was when he finally acknowledged the members. As if embarrassed, he bid goodbye to the  table and walked away. 

Seungkwan who was watching the entire time muttered under his breath, “...Who’s that?” 

“What?” 

Seungkwan turned his gaze to his cousin and immediately dismissed their question. “Oh– Nothing.”  

His eyes landed back to the guy that was talking to Jihyun. 

Upon observation, it seems like he is a rookie actor invited from the groom’s side. He went back to his table with his friends, as if talking about something while pointing at Jihyun. 

“What is he doing?? Did he just flexed to his friends that he got to talk to her?” 

Seungkwan was extremely weirded out by it. But he tried to dismiss his thoughts and not think much about it. He resumed greeting guests together with her second sister.

“It’s a wedding. Of course people would interact with each other. It’s normal.” He thought. But still, he couldn’t help but to get upset. 

Maybe it was because the disappointment had already been quietly piling up since earlier. He had wanted to stay by her side for the entirety of the wedding, but the seating arrangement had already made that impossible. And now, this happened. 

Meanwhile, across the hall, Jihyun remained completely polite as always. Few people have already stopped by at their table to greet her and talk to her, and she just greets them back warmly and casually. 

But somehow, this only made things worse for Seungkwan who was quietly looking over the members table the whole time. 

Because she was naturally nice to people, easy to approach, friendly, and most of all, extremely pretty. 

Which apparently, made everyone, men and women inside the venue suddenly brave enough to approach her, one after another. 

“Ha…” Seungkwan sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

He stood up, about to go to the restroom to freshen up himself when Cheol suddenly walked up to him. 

“Kwan-ah, you okay?” 

Seungkwan looked up to him, only to find Cheol’s facial expression completely teasing him, with a devilish smile on his face.

“No..” He answered, pouting, while also giving cheol a death glare. 

“Oh–” Cheol suddenly muttered, glancing towards their table.  “Another one?” He added, clearly teasing Seungkwan. 

“Ah really… Why are there so many of them?” 

Cheol’s laughter burst out immediately as Seungkwan answered with a pouty face. 

“Yah, do you want me to do something about it?” Cheol answered, as he wrapped his arms on Seungkwan’s shoulder. 

“No, hyung. It’s okay. Forget about it.” Seungkwan said while still staring across the hall. 

Meanwhile, Cheol followed his gaze and immediately spotted another actor laughing beside Jihyun’s chair while speaking to her comfortably.

“Oh,” he muttered. “That one’s handsome too.”

Seungkwan slowly turned toward him. “Hyung!”

“What?” Cheol defended immediately while laughing. “I’m just saying.”

“You’re making me more stressed.”

“I don’t think that’s my fault tho?” Cheol immediately answered, looking at him with judging eyes. 

Seungkwan just sighed, no energy to answer him. 

Because Cheol was right. 

The interactions somehow kept happening repeatedly throughout the evening. 

When Jihyun stood up to get some food from the buffet table, someone immediately approached her, introducing himself. 

Some greeted her casually, complimenting her dress, anything just to get her attention. 

And every single time, Seungkwan could only watch from afar as he stood beside his family, greeting other guests like a well-behaved son. 

Which for some reason, is getting hard to do for him as minutes pass by. Because all he wanted to do right now was to walk over there, sit beside her, and make it painfully obvious that she already belonged to someone. 

But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not publicly. 

Meanwhile, at the members’ table, they had already noticed Seungkwan’s mood worsening in real time. 

At some point, Jeonghan leaned slightly towards Mingyu while glancing across the hall towards Seungkwan who was clearly staring towards their table. 

“Yah,” Jeonghan whispered. “Look, Boo Seungkwan is about to lose it.” 

Mingyu immediately glanced at the direction Jeonghan was looking at. “Yah yah! Look at Seungkwan, he’s glaring towards here again.” He said towards the adjacent table where the other members are seated. 

Dokyeom immediately followed his gaze. And the second he saw Seungkwan’s expression he burst into barely contained laughter.

“Oof.”

“Right?” Mingyu muttered while trying not to laugh at himself.

“His eye twitched earlier,” Chan added quietly from beside them.

Meanwhile, Vernon calmly sipped his drink. “I think he’s reached stage five already.”

Hao blinked, and turned his head towards Vernon. “What’s stage five?”

“The scary silent stage.”

Almost immediately, everyone at the table turned toward Seungkwan again.

And unfortunately, Vernon was correct.

Seungkwan was clearly already annoyed. He did smile here and there when someone greets him. But the second he was left alone and nobody was looking, his eyes looked extremely annoyed, his lips were in a constant pout condition, and was glaring at everyone that walks towards Jihyun. 

At some point, his sister finally noticed his foul mood. 

“Seungkwan-ah,” she said, calling his attention, to which he immediately looked toward her. 

“Hm?”

His sister followed his gaze instinctively before immediately spotting what — or rather who — he had been staring at for almost the entire evening.

Another actor was currently trying to talk to Jihyun again near the members’ table. The sight alone made Seungkwan visibly deflate.

His sister watched him for a second before laughing softly under her breath. “Are you okay?”

Seungkwan immediately looked away from the table before exhaling dramatically. “No.”

That only made his sister laugh harder. “You look like you’re suffering.”

“I am suffering.”

His sister shook her head affectionately before lightly patting his arm.

“Do you want to join the members?” she asked gently. “It’s okay. I can take care of things here for now.”

The moment those words left her mouth, Seungkwan’s eyes instinctively drifted toward the members’ table again.

And unfortunately, that was the exact moment he saw the actor beside Jihyun pulling a chair closer toward her.

Seungkwan’s jaw tightened immediately. “Ha...”

“What now?” his sister asked, already amused.

Meanwhile, across the hall, Jihyun remained completely unaware of the emotional crisis currently unfolding nearby as she smiled politely toward the actor seated beside her.

“I’ve really wanted to meet you in person,” the actor admitted warmly. “Honestly, you’re even prettier than on camera.”

To which Jihyun just nodded and laughed awkwardly. Because honestly, she was now also getting uncomfortable with all the attention she was getting. 

At first, greeting a few people was okay. But this one was her final straw. 

Yes, she is nice. She greets people if she needs to. But it seems like this one guy made it his goal to befriend her. She doesn’t know where his confidence is coming from and it is obviously bothering her. 

Noticing this, the members at the table visibly stiffened. Jihyun was already feeling uncomfortable, and they obviously knew that Seungkwan was also getting extremely upset.

Mingyu slowly lowered his fork before glancing toward Seungkwan across the venue and immediately regretted it. “Oh no.”

Chan followed his gaze quietly before physically wincing.

Because Seungkwan genuinely looked one inconvenience away from losing composure completely.

Meanwhile, the actor continued smiling at Jihyun comfortably. “I honestly didn’t expect you to be this easygoing,” he continued casually. 

“I was nervous approaching you earlier.”

Jihyun laughed awkwardly as she gave him a short answer. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Seungkwan is now completely annoyed. His sister noticed how upset he was getting. 

“Seungkwan-ah,,”

“Hm?”

“You can go now.” She said, smiling at him. 

Seungkwan blinked at her, “Really?”

“I’m serious,” she laughed softly. “You’re staring so hard from here that it’s actually becoming scary.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yes.”

His sister burst into another laugh before nudging him lightly. “Go sit with your members for a bit. Eomma and I can handle the guests right now.”

Honestly, that was all the permission Seungkwan needed.

Because almost immediately, he muttered a quick thank you before heading toward the members’ table without hesitation.

Unfortunately for him, the moment he got closer, he heard the actor speak again.

“I was actually hoping we could get closer after today,” the actor admitted casually. “Maybe exchange contacts sometime?”

Seungkwan noticed how Jihyun’s stance was getting uncomfortable, smiling awkwardly at the guy. 

“Uhm.. I–” She said, about to answer when he suddenly cut her off. 

“Or maybe we should follow each other first? Do you perhaps have a private instagram?” he continued, still smiling. “Ah, I’d honestly love to take you out sometime if you’re free.” 

The guy just continued talking, like he hadn't noticed that the person he’s talking to was already uncomfortable. 

“Excuse me—” Mingyu was about to call him out, when he noticed Seungkwan walking towards them. 

The good thing was, someone approached the guy and said something towards his ear, making him finally bid goodbye to Jihyun. 

Seungkwan halted mid step when he saw the actor finally stand up. He looked away first, as if calming himself because he genuinely felt like he was reaching his limit. 

Meanwhile, at the table, the members collectively exhaled in relief. “Wah… That almost didn’t end well.” Chan muttered quietly. 

Jihyun immediately looked up when she heard what Chan said. “What didn’t end well? Did something happen?” 

Then, for a moment her eyes caught the sight of Seungkwan standing in the walkway near their table, fists and eyes closed, exhaling deeply. 

“Oh— Why is Kwannie standing there like that?” She muttered, genuinely confused. 

The members followed her gaze, and Mingyu immediately said “Wow, you really are completely unaware..” sounding almost fascinated.

Well, they really can’t blame her. Seungkwan rarely gets jealous of someone. The two have always been very understanding of each other. 

Seungkwan had close female friends, and Jihyun had never once minded it.

Likewise, Jihyun naturally attracted attention everywhere she went, and Seungkwan usually handled it surprisingly well.

Which was exactly why seeing him this visibly affected tonight had become so entertaining for the members.

Meanwhile, Jihyun only looked even more confused. “What?” she asked again. “Did something happen?”

Nobody answered immediately.

Mostly because they knew Seungkwan would probably combust from embarrassment if they exposed him first.

And almost perfectly on cue, Seungkwan finally started walking toward their table.

The moment Jihyun saw his face properly, her expression softened instantly. He genuinely looked upset.

Not angry. Just extremely sulky.

His lips were slightly pouted, his shoulders visibly slumped, and his eyes looked exhausted in the most dramatic way possible.

It was honestly almost cute.

Without thinking much about it, Jihyun immediately stood up from her seat.

“I’ll be back,” she told the members softly before walking toward him first.

Meanwhile, Seungkwan visibly relaxed the second he saw her approaching him.

And when she finally reached him, he immediately wrapped his arms around her without hesitation before dropping his head directly onto the crook of her neck.

Like he had completely run out of emotional energy.

Jihyun blinked in surprise before softly laughing under her breath. “Kwannie?”

Seungkwan only tightened his hold around her slightly, while Jihyun instinctively lifted one hand to rub his back gently.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly. “Why do you look so drained?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Seungkwan mumbled immediately against her shoulder. The pout in his voice was unbelievably obvious.

Jihyun nearly smiled. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Then why are you acting like this?” Seungkwan finally lifted his head slightly before looking at her with tired, offended eyes.

“Because I barely got to be with you today.”

Jihyun laughed softly. “Boo Seungkwan,” she teased quietly, “we literally see each other every day.”

“You don’t even know what I went through today,” he complained immediately. 

The sheer seriousness in his tone made Jihyun burst into another laugh. “Aigoo, what did you go through?”

Seungkwan simply stared at her silently with the deepest pout imaginable, which honestly only made him look even cuter.

Jihyun gently pinched his side teasingly. “You’re being dramatic again.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Before Seungkwan could continue complaining further, someone suddenly approached the two of them carefully.

“Uh… excuse me.”

Both of them turned simultaneously.

A young man stood there awkwardly holding out a folded piece of paper toward Jihyun.

“My friend wanted me to give this to you,” he explained sheepishly before gesturing toward a nearby table.

Instinctively, both Jihyun and Seungkwan followed where he was pointing.

It was the same actor from earlier. The man even waved toward Jihyun with an easy smile from afar.

The moment Seungkwan recognized him, his expression immediately fell again.

Meanwhile, the messenger handed the folded paper to Jihyun before quickly bowing and leaving, completely unaware that he had just worsened Seungkwan’s emotional state dramatically.

Jihyun blinked in confusion before unfolding the note carefully.

Written neatly on the paper was a KakaoTalk ID followed by:

“Please contact me here~ I’ll wait for your message :)”

There was a second of silence before Seungkwan finally snapped.

“Seriously?”

Before Jihyun could even properly react, Seungkwan immediately snatched the paper from her hands before crumpling it without hesitation.

“Kwannie—”

“No because what is this?” he complained incredulously. “What are they doing at a wedding? What? Is this some kind of a dating event? Why are they doing that here?”

Jihyun stared at him in complete disbelief before laughter almost escaped her again. “Oh my god.”

Meanwhile, Seungkwan looked like he was genuinely at his limit now.

Without another word, he threw the note in the nearest trash bin he could find, and held Jihyun’s hand tightly with the other, pulling her gently towards somewhere. 

“Oppa— wait!”

But Seungkwan continued walking quickly while holding her hand tightly.

And now, finally realizing what the members had been talking about earlier, Jihyun could barely stop herself from smiling the entire way there.

“Wait– Where are we going?” She asked him softly, but didn't get any reply. 

They continued walking until they reached the Bride’s Room. The room was empty now since everyone was already busy with the reception. Seungkwan immediately opened the door, pulling her inside. 

He went in first, finally letting go of her hands, while Jihyun closed the door behind her. 

Once she turned her gaze into him, his back was still facing her as he lets out a deep breath. 

Jihyun stared at him for a while before her eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t tell me.. I’m not actually the one you’re upset with, right?” She asked, slightly annoyed by the possibility. 

Immediately, Seungkwan turned toward her. 

“No,” he answered quickly before sighing again. “I’m upset because why do they keep approaching you?”

Jihyun blinked, clearly processing his answer—-which just confirmed that he indeed was jealous.

“Seriously,” Seungkwan continued while gesturing frustratedly toward the door. “Those guys were driving me crazy.”

Jihyun bit her lip slightly to stop herself from smiling too hard. 

“Wow,” she muttered, clearly fascinated by what she was seeing. 

Seungkwan narrowed his eyes immediately. “Don’t.” he said while pouting at her. 

“Boo Seungkwan,” she said carefully while failing to hide her amusement completely, “are you perhaps jealous right now?”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes dramatically before looking away.

And when he didn’t answer, Jihyun finally burst into soft laughter. 

“Oh my god, you are.” She said, further teasing him. 

“Yah, Kang Jihyun.”

“No, because this is actually cute—”

Jihyun couldn’t finish  what she was about to say when Seungkwan suddenly closed the gap between the two of them by stepping closer to her. His hands traveled to her nape, focusing all her attention to him as he kept his gaze at her eyes. 

And this time, his expression had completely changed.

The frustration was still there. But now it is mixed with something softer.

Something that made Jihyun’s breath catch slightly.

“Do you know how hard it was standing there watching them flirt with you all day?” he asked quietly.

The teasing smile on Jihyun’s face slowly softened.

“I couldn’t even go over there properly,” he continued, voice lower now. “People would start asking questions immediately.”

Jihyun’s heartbeat slowly sped up.

“And the whole time,” Seungkwan murmured, eyes fixed completely on hers, “all I wanted to do was stay beside you.”

The room suddenly felt much smaller.

Much warmer.

Jihyun swallowed softly before whispering, “…Kwan-ah.”

And as if that was the final piece holding his patience together, the moment he heard her say his name, Seungkwan finally snapped. 

He closed the remaining distance between the two of them, slowly pressing his lips against her. 

The kiss was gentle at first, almost hesitant,  as if they were savoring every second of it, when suddenly, his left hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer against him, while the other cradled the side of her face carefully. 

The hesitation between the two of them slowly disappeared, making the kiss grow more desperate as seconds passed. 

“Hmmm..” Jihyun hummed in surprise when she felt him bit his lower lip lightly. This made her gripper the side of his suit tightly. 

Somehow, that made Seungkwan kiss her deeper, as if he was finally releasing everything he had been suppressing the entire day. 

Jihyun could barely breathe properly by the time he pulled away for a while. 

“Oppa,” she whispered breathlessly, their faces still close to each other. “Not here… What if someone suddenly comes?” 

“I really don’t care right now,” Seungkwan muttered. “Also, no one is going to come here. They’re all busy partying outside.” He added before kissing her again. 

Jihyun laughed softly against his lips, before whispering, “You’re insane, really..” 

“And whose fault is that?” 

Before she could even answer, Seungkwan claimed her lips again, kissing her deeply. 

Her hands were now wrapped around his neck, while his arms were both wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, making the dress she was wearing to hike up slightly. 

As the tension grew more intense, Seungkwan gently guided them towards the sofa situated at the very center of the room, making sure to move slowly to make sure she didn't trip since Jihyun was wearing high heels. 

He finally broke the kiss just long enough to sit down on the sofa. Still holding onto her waist, he slowly guided Jihyun closer before gesturing for her to sit sideways on his lap.

She quietly complied, her hand instinctively resting against his shoulder as he pulled her closer against him, resting his forehead against hers, as though he still wasn’t satisfied with the distance between them

His breathing was still uneven.

Meanwhile, Jihyun could only stare at him in disbelief. “You were really suffering out there, huh?”

Seungkwan looked genuinely offended. “You think?”

Jihyun burst into quiet laughter again before Seungkwan immediately kissed her once more just to shut her up.

This time, the kiss was far less restrained. His hand tightened slightly around her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer, the frustration and longing he had been holding back finally seeping into the way he kissed her.

Jihyun could feel his breath hitch against her lips when his thumb lightly brushed against her jaw. The kiss deepened further when he tilted his head slightly, his tongue touched her bottom lip, as though silently asking for more. 

And when she responded just as eagerly, whatever little self-control Seungkwan had left nearly disappeared.

His hand was already holding the zipper of her dress, second away from pulling it down right there and then when they suddenly heard the sound of footsteps right outside the door, followed by the unlocking sound of the door knob. 

The both of them froze instantly. 

Jihyun immediately broke the kiss, her gaze still on him. Meanwhile, Seungkwan’s gaze lowered from her  eyes to her clearly puffy lips  from the kiss they just shared. 

He couldn’t help but to smirk at the sight in front of him. 

“Yah! How could you even smile right now!” She exclaimed softly. 

Seungkwan immediately pulled back while Jihyun scrambled upright from the sofa in panic, hurriedly fixing her hair and smoothing down her dress.

Meanwhile, Seungkwan looked equally disheveled beside her despite trying to act calm.

Thankfully, the person outside only muttered something quietly before walking away again.

The second the footsteps disappeared, silence filled the room.

Then Jihyun slowly turned toward Seungkwan. “Wow, We almost got caught.” She said, shaking her head in disbelief while trying to fix strands of his hair that had completely fallen out of place.

Meanwhile, Seungkwan simply stared at her for a second before suddenly laughing quietly into his hands, shoulders shaking slightly from sheer disbelief over what they had almost done.

And somehow, seeing him finally smile properly again after suffering the entire evening made warmth bloom inside Jihyun’s chest instantly.

Eventually, the two finally managed to calm down enough to leave the bridal room.

Well, mostly calm down.

Because the moment Jihyun checked her reflection using her phone camera, her eyes widened immediately.

“Kwan-ah….” She said while pouting. 

Seungkwan looked up innocently. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Wah… I look like a literal mess. What should we do?”

Seungkwan only laughed, looking significantly happier now compared to earlier.

Before they could return to the dining hall, Jihyun eventually forced Seungkwan to go back toward the members’ table to retrieve her makeup pouch from her bag while she hid inside the nearby restroom first.

Because unfortunately, she looked way too suspicious to walk out like this.

Her lips were swollen, her hair was messy no matter how much she tried fixing it with her fingers, and her cheeks still felt embarrassingly warm.

Seungkwan looked like a mess as well. She had to fix his hair first before he was able to actually go outside of the room, while she waited there for him. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Jihyun muttered while fixing his hair properly, and wiping the smudged lip gloss on his lips before finally letting him leave.

Seungkwan only grinned at her before leaning down briefly. “Still love me though.”

Jihyun rolled her eyes immediately. “Go already before someone sees us.”

And as Seungkwan walked out of the hallway looking far too satisfied with himself, Jihyun could only stare at the mirror afterward before covering her face in embarrassment.

Because somehow, Boo Seungkwan’s jealousy had nearly become the reason they got exposed at his own sister’s wedding.

© JIHYUN-VERSE 2026 [ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ]

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ for taglist: feel free to comment or message me 🦫

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ requests: always open .ᐟ

taglist: @ateez-atiny380 @babilou-pov @itnotsummerwithoutyou @raefoxiegirl @supi-wupi @selavielavi @snacsucks @youthsquaredd @rosemary-luvs @bellaptv @prettyxangel @cherrylovescheol

[wonwootattoo]

what does being a father mean? | choi seungcheol

🌕 pairing: husband!dad!seungcheol x fem!reader 🌕 genre/content: parent au, idol au 🌕 warnings: suggestive babymaking at the end LOL 🌕 summary: Seungcheol thinks about the best gift he's ever received 🌕 a/n: you ask for more dad seungcheol, i deliver! 🌕 dad!seungcheol series: a chance encounter | mess | snow

You smile at your husband as he walks around to your side of the bed and places a glass of water on your nightstand. He then immediately proceeds to climb on top of you to get to his side of the bed instead of going around again.

You laugh while shoving Seungcheol off of you. 

“Babe, you’re heavy,” you groan when he stops moving and lies his whole body on you.

“Funny, you weren’t saying that the other night,” he teases with a cheeky wink. 

“Ugh, you’re nasty!” you laugh, successfully pushing him off of you. 

He rolls next to you and gets under the covers so he can pull you into his chest. Not before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

This is his favorite part of your nighttime routine. Just a quiet moment before bedtime before…

“Daddy!”

He spoke too soon. 

You and Seungcheol watch as your six year old son comes running into the room holding a book and his big black bear plushie. 

Seungcheol reluctantly lets go of you so he can pull his son into his lap.

“What’s up, buddy?”

“Daddy, what is the best gift you’ve ever gotten?”

Seungcheol pauses for a moment to deeply think about life’s greatest gifts, even though he already has an answer.

Getting approached in the street by Pledis for an opportunity that would blossom into something bigger than he could’ve ever imagined when he was in middle school. 

Building an incredibly strong relationship with the twelve other members of his group over twenty years. They’ve taught so much about what it means to work hard, have fun, and be kind.

Having a flourishing career that has allowed him to make his own music with his friends, travel to many parts of the world with unique cultures, meet people who love and support him beyond words, and pursue opportunities that take him outside of his comfort zone.

The day in September when he went to the animal shelter and saw a small white dog, whom he ended up adopting. Kkuma taught him responsibility and gave him a reason to go home every night. And it was Kkuma who led him to … you. 

You. You are the love of Seungcheol’s life. While he loved his career, it was incredibly difficult to maintain romantic relationships. He was always away, always trying to be better, always careful with his every move, and after a few failed relationships, he stopped trying. But then he met you and knew he had to give love another chance. 

And here you are years later, married with two children. 

With a quick, dimpled smile at you, Seungcheol adjusts his son in his lap and pretends to think out loud. 

“Hmmmmm,” he ponders with a finger to his chin and his eyes to the ceiling.

“My favorite gift?”

Your son giggles, holding his bear close while he waits for his dad to answer. 

“The best gifts I’ve ever received are you and your sister!” Seungcheol exclaims with a poke to his son’s tummy. 

While your son tells his dad how pleased he is with this answer, you take a long look at your husband.

Yes, he’s handsome and has a nice body and nice arms, but this is who you fell in love with. Seungcheol, who would insist you go back to sleep when your son was a newborn and crying at 2 in the morning. Seungcheol, who changed diapers and read bedtime stories and bought mountains of toys. Seungcheol, who did it all over again when you had a daughter a few years later. Yes, you loved Seungcheol as a husband, but you have loved him even more as a father. 

He wears his heart on his sleeve, out in the open. He teaches your children to be kind and grateful. He reminds them how much he loves them. 

You don’t think you could’ve picked a better man to be the father of your children. 

Your son leans over to give you a hug good night and you watch Seungcheol carry him to bed.

Fatherhood looks good on your husband. But you always knew that. 

When he comes back a few minutes later and gets into bed, you get closer and grasp his face in your hands and kiss him. He’s surprised at first, but he instantly takes over and lays you down on your back so he can kiss you harder. When you pull apart, you’re both breathing heavily. His eyes have gone a shade darker. He licks his lips as he looks down at you, thinking about where he wants this night to go. You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper how much you love him. 

He leans over and turns off the light. 

[petersasteria]

College Boyfriend AU | J.W.W

Pairing: college bf!wonwoo x gn!reader Summary: just a headcanon of wonwoo as your college bf and also your first love Warning/s: - Notes: i have a minwon fic coming up so im just warming y'all up! it's gonna be angsty, so here's smth fluffy :)

would buy you cold drinks from the vending machine on chill dates

he would pause studying to entertain your random thoughts

STUDY DATES!!

he'd definitely be the type to celebrate after finals

he'd also be the type to save his money, so he could take you on fancy dates on your anniversary (and he's been consistent too bc y'all have been together for 5 years) Wonwoo was careful with money, but anniversaries with you were the one thing he never held back on. Every year, he’d quietly save up for months just to take you somewhere fancy—some pretty restaurant with dim lights and a city view, where he’d sit across from you looking calmer than he actually felt. “Don’t look at the prices,” he’d mumble with a small laugh, gently nudging the menu down. “Just order what you want tonight.” When you asked if he really planned all of this himself, he’d smile shyly and admit, “I started saving for this months ago.” The whole night, he’d show his affection in small ways—fixing your necklace when it slipped, refilling your glass before you asked, keeping his hand over yours on the table. At some point, he’d look at you quietly and confess, “You still make me nervous on dates.” And when dinner ended, Wonwoo would intertwine your fingers with his and softly say, “Let’s walk around a little more. I don’t want the night to end yet.”

always packs an umbrella because you constantly forget yours “five years and you still forget your umbrella. good thing you have me.”

if his class ends early, he goes to the library to do his homework while waiting for your class to end “your class ends at four, right? i’ll wait at the library. don’t walk back to your dorm alone, it’s gonna rain later.”

if your class ends early, he'd go straight to your dorm

he's on his phone while he's out with friends and sends you photo updates. he never waits for you to ask; he just sends them "oh look at him, he's so gone." jeonghan teases. "at least include us in the photo so they believe you're out with us." "they're not fragile." wonwoo says, but angles his phone so his friends can be seen in the photo anyway. "say cheese."

CAN READ YOU LIKE A BOOK!!! and also very, very observant “i know you said you’re fine, but your texts got shorter. what happened?”

protective of you even when he's not around “no, stay on the phone with me while you walk back. don't wanna risk anything happening to you.”

never lets you go to bed angry. if you fight, he goes to your dorm and wait until you're ready to talk. his parents told him to never go to bed angry if you fight with your partner, and he took it seriously “you don’t have to apologize for being stressed. come here.”

always ready to pick you up after you hang out with friends. wonwoo would always be outside, holding the cute helmet he bought for you, and lovingly putting it on you

when it was time to apply for internships, wonwoo was able to get one quickly. when you said you were getting frustrated, wonwoo would do mock interviews with you and give you constructive criticism (+ he helped you improve your resume). needless to say, he was definitely a big help because you got in one of the biggest companies in korea

definitely the type to remind you to eat and drink water whenever you don't have classes bc he knows you too well “drink your water first before telling me about your day. yeah, i’m serious. you get headaches when you forget.”

he remembers your class schedule better than you do. sometimes he texts “good luck on your quiz :)” and you forgot you even had one

he’s not huge on PDA around campus, but he’s always touching you somehow. hand on your backpack strap, pinkies linked, and hand on your waist while crossing the street

he starts carrying small things you “might need” because dating you taught him you’re always forgetting something. lip balm, charger, painkillers, etc.

after exams, he’s the type to say “you did well” before asking how you think you did because he knows you overthink immediately after tests “you did well today. i’m proud of you.”

he saves candid pictures of you in a hidden folder on his phone. blurry cafeteria photos, sleeping during study sessions, laughing mid-sentence

if you pull all-nighters together, he gets quieter and clingier by 3am. resting his head on your shoulder while reading over notes “you fell asleep on your notes again. at least pretend to use the pillow i bought you.”

he learns your coffee order so well that he starts buying it before you even ask “i brought your favorite drink. and before you ask, yes, i remembered the no ice.”

he’s already building a life for the both of you, even before you ask. he knows you're a worrier and he doesn't want you to worry about your future at all "I've been saving up lately." wonwoo says as you both walk to the convenience store at 2am. you look at him and ask, "for what?" "a place for us eventually." he shrugs a little. "nothing huge, obviously. just a small, quaint place... somewhere you won't have to leave at midnight just to come to me."

when you graduate together, he takes a picture of you holding flowers and just stares at it for a second because he can’t believe you both made it through college together

OH i can see him as the type of guy who'd gift you a promise ring on college graduation day “Wait, don’t move yet.” Wonwoo gently takes your hand before slipping the ring onto your finger, smiling shyly when your eyes widen. “I know it’s not… you know, an actual ring yet,” he laughs softly, thumb rubbing against your knuckles, “but I still wanted to give you something.” He looks at you for a moment, eyes warm and full of quiet affection before mumbling, “Five years, college, all those nights studying together… and you still chose me every day.” Then he squeezes your hand gently and whispers, “So this is my promise that I’ll keep choosing you too.” A small smile pulls onto his face as he adds, “We made it, and honestly? I can’t wait for the next chapter with you.”

a/n: GOD THIS GAVE ME BUTTERFLIES and im suddenly jealous

[nerdycheol]

One kiss is all it takes || C.S.C

pairing: scoups x reader genre: fluff, est. relationship wc: 1.1k a/n: i used a lip plumper for the first time. my lips look like two bums now lmao. anyhoo this is part 3 of kissy face cheol uwu

part1 part 2

"How much time do we have left?" You shout from your shared bedroom. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing down the front of your outfit before reaching for the tiny tube sitting on the vanity.

The lip plumper you bought three days ago after getting influenced by a girl on TikTok with impossibly glossy lips.You grab it with a quiet hum, twisting the cap open before smoothing the cool product carefully across your mouth.

From outside the room, you hear Seungcheol's voice carrying lazily through the apartment. "Baby, we're not late yet, take your time."

You smile to yourself automatically. He says it so casually, like it's obvious he'd wait forever for you if he had to.

And honestly, he probably would.

Seungcheol has never once rushed you while getting ready. Never complained when you changed outfits four times. Never sighed dramatically or checked the clock every thirty seconds like some boyfriends did. If anything, he liked watching you get ready. Liked sitting nearby and talking to you while you did your makeup.

You give your lips one final press together before grabbing your bag and stepping out into the living room.

Seungcheol is exactly where you expected him to be—spread comfortably across the sofa with one arm resting behind his head, phone balanced in his hand while he scrolls absentmindedly through something. He's dressed already, dark jacket thrown over a simple shirt, hair slightly messy in that way that somehow only makes him look softer.

The second he hears you approach, he looks up and smiles lovingly.

"There's my girl," he murmurs, locking his phone and sitting up properly. "Ready to go, babe?"

You nod while walking toward him, already leaning down instinctively before you even stop in front of him. "Mhm."

Your lips brush against his in a quick kiss. His hand settle naturally against your waist, thumb rubbing absent circles through the fabric of your outfit before you pull away.

"Lemme just put on my heels," you mumble, pressing a kiss on his dimple.

By the time you're out, Seungcheol has already taken out the car. As you slide into the passenger seat,you see him tapping lightly against the steering wheel to the music playing softly through the speakers. The inside of the car smells faintly like his cologne and the iced coffee he insisted on grabbing earlier.

The moment you settle into your seat, he turns toward you slightly.

"You warm enough?" he asks automatically.

"Yes, dad."

"I'm serious," he says, reaching over to tug lightly at the sleeve of your jacket. "Last time you said you were fine and then stole my coat an hour later."

"That's because you're basically a human heater."

"You love it."

You do.

Instead of answering, you lean across the center console and kiss him again before buckling your seatbelt. This kiss lasts longer than the one from earlier.

Seungcheol kisses you lazily, one hand still resting on the wheel while the other comes up automatically to cup your jaw for a second. His lips are warm against yours, soft and familiar enough that kissing him feels less like an action and more like muscle memory at this point.

When you finally pull away, he looks faintly dazed for a second before starting the car properly.

The drive begins quietly.

Your phone rests in your lap while you scroll mindlessly through notifications, occasionally glancing up to look outside at the passing streetlights. Seungcheol hums softly along to the music under his breath, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

Suddenly, you hear a tiny hiss from your side. Your brows pinch slightly, but you ignore it. When it happens again, you immediately glance up.

Seungcheol's face is scrunched slightly in confusion while he presses his lips together awkwardly. His tongue darts out to wet them before he bites lightly at the bottom one like he's trying to figure something out.

"What's wrong?" you ask.

"Dunno hun." He glances at you briefly before looking back at the road. "My lips feel weird."

"Weird how?"

"I don't know?" he tilts his head. "Like…burning?"

Your gaze drifts to his mouth,and the second you properly notice it, laughter bursts out of you so suddenly you nearly choke on air.

Seungcheol's head snaps toward you immediately. "Why are you laughing?"

"You—" you gasp between laughs, pointing uselessly toward him. "Babe, your lips."

"What about my lips?"

"Your lips got bigger." You wheeze.

"Babe stop playing." His voice drops.

"I'm serious!"

The panic on his face appears almost immediately after that. One hand flies up to yank down the vanity mirror above him while the other keeps the wheel steady. You watch his expression morph from confusion to absolute betrayal in real time.

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

The sound that leaves your mouth after that is somewhere between a laugh and a wheeze. Because his lips really are noticeably puffier now—soft and swollen and ridiculously glossy from him constantly rubbing them together.

"Oh my god," he groans, still staring at himself in horror. "Why do I look like I lost a fight with bees?"

"It's the lip plumper!" you finally manage to say. "I forgot I put it on!"

"You forgot?!" He looks genuinely scandalized. "You can transfer that stuff through kissing?!"

"I guess so!"

Despite his complaining, he keeps absentmindedly touching his lips every few seconds, brows furrowed while he processes the sensation.

Honestly, it's adorable. Especially because beneath all the whining, he still keeps leaning toward you at every red light like his body naturally gravitates in your direction.

"Babeuhhh," he whines miserably, sinking lower into his seat. "What am I supposed to do now? Your parents are gonna open the door and immediately start laughing at me."

"They are not." You place your hand over his thigh.

"Yes they are! Look at me!"

You laugh harder at the genuine panic in his voice

"They honestly don't even look that different," you insist. "Your lips were already big.”

He gasps softly, turning to look at you. "…You flirting with me right now while I'm suffering?"

You shrug casually, leaning across the center console again. This time, when you kiss him, he lets out the tiniest wounded whine into your mouth because the tingling definitely got worse but he still kisses you back immediately.

You pull away at the sound, eyes narrowing offended. "Do you not want me to kiss you?"

"When did I say that?" he mumbles instantly, pouting.

The pout only makes his lips look bigger.

You wanted laughed again. Instead, you lean in and kiss him once more. And despite the burning sensation, despite the whining, despite the fact that he keeps complaining every thirty seconds—Seungcheol still tilts toward you every single time like he physically cannot help himself.

[keep-wonwooing]

Military Wife ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

synopsis ᝰ.ᐟ

⤷ being a military wife is kinda hard, ins't?

pairing ᝰ.ᐟ

⤷ Kwon soonyoung x f!reader x Lee jihoon

warnings ᝰ.ᐟ

⤷ slightly suggestive & a few curse word !

“Hoshi-yah? How are you, love?” I spoke through the phone. I was currently talking to my boyfriend, Hoshi, who had already been in the military for 10 months. He called me during his short break, saying he only had around 10 minutes to talk.

“I miss you and Uji so much~” he whined dramatically.

I laughed softly. Me and Woozi still hadn’t talked properly since he’d been busy and rarely got the chance to call. Hoshi and I understood him, so we were both just patiently waiting for whenever he could contact us again.

“Me too, love. When are you coming home?” I asked. It had been a month since I’d been alone in our shared apartment while taking care of our cat, Wish. He was a six-month-old Siamese cat that Woozi adopted to keep me company while they were gone.

“Hm? I’ll surprise you,” Hoshi teased, making me pout immediately.

“Can’t you just tell me so I can cook for you?” I asked again, hoping he’d finally give in.

“You need to wait, yeobo.” I rolled my eyes before finally giving up. We talked for another five minutes until he sighed softly. “I need to go back to work already.”

“Okay… stay safe, love.”

“You too. Don’t overthink too much, alright?”

“I’ll try.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The call ended shortly after, leaving the apartment quiet again. Wish slowly climbed onto my lap and curled himself comfortably against me. It was his favorite sleeping spot, especially whenever the weather got cold.

“Should I call Uji? It’s been a while since our last call…” I mumbled to my cat, as if he could actually answer me.I pouted and leaned back against the sofa. “Your dad isn’t calling me. He doesn’t love me anymore, is that it?” I huffed dramatically.

“Who told you that?”

“And now I’m hearing his voice!” I whined louder.

I didn’t even notice Wish jumping off my lap until he started meowing excitedly. My eyes widened when I saw him comfortably sitting in Woozi’s arms. My mouth immediately fell open.

I could already feel tears building in my eyes. No calls for almost a week were seriously going to be the death of me. My overthinking always made me think something bad had happened to them.

“No, no… why are you crying?” Woozi asked softly as he let Wish jump down from his arms.

God, he looked so good in his uniform.

He removed his cap while I stayed frozen on the couch, still crying like an idiot. He slowly walked toward me before gently carrying me into his arms. I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. I buried my face against his neck.

“Don’t cry. I’m here already,” he whispered softly. “I’m sorry for not calling you and Hoshi. I’m really, really sorry, baby.”

“I-I was really worried…” I sobbed quietly. He nodded while gently caressing the back of my head.

“I know. Our captain took our phones for a week because one of my coworkers got caught using his phone during duty,” he explained. “I couldn’t sleep properly either. I kept thinking about you and Hoshi. I knew you’d both get upset.”

“I’m not m-mad… just worried.”

I glared at him weakly, but he only laughed softly. He sat down on the sofa while I stayed on his lap.

“You should call Hoshi,” I mumbled.

“He’s coming home soon. I’ll surprise him,” Woozi smirked.

I couldn’t help but laugh. I missed him so much that it genuinely hurt. The two of them knew that all I needed was a short update, even just a simple text message. That alone was enough to calm me down.

“At least text him,” I said while poking his cheek. “He keeps calling me just to complain about why you’re not replying to our messages.” Woozi smiled and nodded obediently. We stayed quiet after that while I admired his face.

“I love you, hm? Don’t forget that, okay?” he suddenly whispered.

I raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “Why are you making it sound like you’re dying?”

He laughed before slowly kissing me.

The kiss was soft, slow, and affectionate, like he was trying to memorize me again after being gone for so long. My fingers slowly tangled through his hair, gently tugging at it.

I heard him let out a quiet groan against my lips, making me smirk slightly.

Minutes later, we finally pulled apart, our foreheads resting together while we both caught our breath.

“God, I missed you so fucking much,” he muttered before burying his face against my neck. “Even Wish missed you…” I mumbled against his shoulder.

“Yeah. The moment he saw me earlier, he immediately jumped off your lap to greet me.”

I felt small kisses against my neck.

“Uji…” I sighed softly while playing with his hair.

I just let him do whatever he wanted until we suddenly heard the front door open.

We immediately pulled apart and looked toward the entrance. Hoshi stood there looking exhausted, but somehow his entire aura still felt warm like sunshine.

“Fuck you.”

He walked toward us before immediately pulling both of us into a tight hug.

Minutes later, we stayed there quietly, enjoying each other’s warmth.

Then suddenly—

“Why didn’t you call or even text us?!” Hoshi burst out, making me jump slightly.

“Me and Y/N were so fucking worried about you! You didn’t even bother texting either one of us? I couldn’t even focus properly because I kept thinking something happened to you!”

I noticed that whenever we ended up in situations like this, Woozi would always let us vent first before calmly explaining everything afterward.

I gently wrapped my arms around Hoshi’s waist and looked up at him. His eyes softened immediately as he pulled me closer.

“Let him explain, okay?” I said softly. “I’ll cook something for both of you.”

I left a quick kiss on his jaw before walking toward the kitchen.

3rd Person POV

“Jagi, you know I didn’t mean to worry you, right?” Woozi said gently while slowly walking toward the taller man, who was clearly trying his best to stay upset.

“Then why didn’t you contact us?” Hoshi complained again.

“Our captain took our phones for a week because some soldiers got caught using them during work,” Woozi explained calmly before pulling him into a warm hug. Hoshi sighed deeply in relief the moment he felt Woozi’s arms around his waist. He hugged him back tightly without hesitation.

Neither of them moved for a while. Just hugging each other already felt comforting enough.

A few minutes later, they pulled apart, and Hoshi immediately started covering Woozi’s face with kisses. Woozi scrunched his nose while laughing softly. Hoshi giggled before hugging him again.

“Come on,” Hoshi said while holding his hand. “Let’s spend time with our girl.”

He dragged Woozi toward the kitchen, where they found Y/N leaning against the counter while waiting for the oven to finish heating up the garlic bread she made yesterday.

“Hey, baby!” Hoshi exclaimed before running toward her and lifting her onto the counter.

“What are you doing?!” she laughed.

“I didn’t greet you properly earlier,” he pouted dramatically. “I missed you too, baby. So much. Hearing your voice wasn’t enough.”He leaned closer before gently kissing her lips.

Woozi smiled quietly at the sight while leaning against the counter beside them. He simply watched them with soft eyes.

“The food’s ready. Let’s eat,” Y/N said shyly after pulling away. The two boys helped her down from the counter since she refused to let either of them carry her again.

Hoshi grabbed plates and started fixing the table while Woozi carefully helped take the garlic bread out of the oven since it was still hot.

“Hey! I was supposed to do all of this as your welcome home gift!” Y/N complained after realizing she was just sitting down while the two of them did everything.

It had always been one of their rules. During dinner time, Y/N wasn’t allowed to move around the kitchen too much while they were there.

“Shh… just sit there and look pretty for us,” Hoshi teased with a playful grin.

She rolled her eyes while Woozi chuckled quietly beside him.

++

“Thank you for the food, baby,” Woozi said softly.

The three of them were now lying on their shared bed while a calm movie played quietly in the background.

“It’s been a while since I cooked for you guys,” Y/N replied while resting comfortably between them.

“Baby? Jagi? I have gifts for both of you.” Hoshi suddenly walked into the room holding several shopping bags.

“What is that?” Y/N exclaimed when she noticed the brand. “Wait… is that LV?!” Hoshi only grinned sheepishly before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Well… we went out of the country for a bit, and when I saw these, they immediately reminded me of you and Uji,” he explained while handing them over.

Y/N immediately hid behind Woozi dramatically.

“Why?” Hoshi laughed. “You don’t like it?”

“What do you mean I don’t like it?! I just hate how expensive this is!” she whined. Woozi watched them with an amused smile. “Open yours first,” he encouraged gently.

Y/N slowly opened the bag before gasping loudly. Inside was a cute pink shoulder bag.

Her pout deepened before she suddenly jumped onto Hoshi, who was lying on the bed watching her reaction. He groaned dramatically but laughed while hugging her tightly.

“Thank you, love,” she mumbled while tearing up again.

“Why are you crying? It’s just a small gift!” Hoshi exclaimed in disbelief. She shook her head stubbornly.

“It’s not small to me.”

++

An hour later, both of them were asleep beside me. I was comfortably trapped between them, Hoshi’s arm wrapped around my waist while Woozi held my hand under the blanket. They were only taking a nap since they were exhausted from traveling home.

I quietly scrolled through Twitter on my phone. I had a fan account since I was a Carat too.

While scrolling, I came across a post saying that being a military wife was difficult and that they missed the members who were currently enlisted.

Honestly… I agreed.

I wasn’t even their wife yet, but it was still hard. Sometimes I just wanted to hug them whenever I felt sad.

“Baby…” I turned to my left and saw Woozi awake now.

“Sleep more, Ji. You need rest,” I whispered before leaning closer so he could kiss me properly. “I am resting. I’m with you and Young,” he mumbled sleepily.His eyes shifted toward my phone as he read the post on the screen.

“Should I post something for the Carats?” he asked softly.

“They really miss you, Ji,” I smiled.

“Okay. I’ll post something later,” he replied before pulling me closer. “But for now, let’s sleep.”

He closed his eyes again while Hoshi unconsciously tightened his hold around my waist. I smiled quietly to myself.

Maybe loving people in the military was difficult sometimes. But moments like this always made everything worth it.

© written by keep-wonwooing. All works displayed on this blog are created and maintained by the owner unless stated otherwise. Please respect the creator’s work and refrain from reposting or altering any content.

[petersasteria]

Domestic Boyfriend AU | K.M.G

Pairing: domestic bf!mingyu x gf!reader Summary: a headcanon of mingyu being your domestic boyfriend! (y'all had just started dating and he's LOCKED IN) Warning/s: very domestic mingyu Notes: i have a minwon fic coming up so im just warming y'all up! it's gonna be angsty, so here's smth fluffy :)

by some miracle, mingyu was able to ask you out on a date after his many, many tries

the date went absolutely well, so you went on more dates. he asked you to be his girlfriend after 6 dates, but you said no. the man was PERSISTENT so you eventually said yes after he told you that he had a "vision".

as soon as you said yes, mingyu had no plans in slowing down bc for him, you were IT. the first time he saw you? dating apps: deleted. girls on his instagram: unfollowed, blocked, and chats were deleted. contacts: exes and situationships were deleted. he was very committed to you even before you knew it.

in mingyu's mind, you're already married

grocery shopping dates "We also need to get stuff from my list." Mingyu says, pushing the cart. "What's on your list?" "Ingredients for tonight's dinner. I'm cooking, so just relax."

sends you furniture links at 2AM "Let's go to IKEA." "We don't live together, Gyu." "Not YET ;)"

cooks for you constantly! You're craving truffle pasta? He's already out buying truffle oil and stuff. You want fries and have no patience in ordering? He's making fries FROM SCRATCH!

talks about "our _____" casually "Our kitchen should be very clean all the time, and I want a kitchen island that's huge." "Our bathroom should have one of those fancy showers that has a 'rain' setting so I can act out emotional drama scenes when I shower." "Our kids are gonna be so cool because we're cool... but you're also very awkward so I hope they only get a little bit of that."

gets extremely excited over mundane couple things "I got us matching house slippers!! Aren't they cute?!" "I don't care if we have different phones because I bought us matching cases!!" "My mom gifted us matching bathrobes and mugs. You can't leave me now because my mom likes you for me, and I like you very much. These robes are so cute!! Let's use all of this on our at-home spa day!"

sends you apartment listings just for "looking", but already calculated commute times for both of you

absolutely the type to stand behind you while you cook, just to hug your waist and bother you,

keeps buying “extras” for his apartment because “you’re here all the time anyway”

gets proud over domestic things. it genuinely feeds his ego. fixing a cabinet? changing a lightbulb? fixing the sink? checking your car? suddenly, he's the man of the house "I'll do it, babe. I'm THE man, after all."

owns an apron that somehow screams boyfriend material

would 100% argue with you in ikea over aesthetics and then apologize by buying you dessert afterward

keeps pictures of you on his fridge like a husband who misses his wife at work. actually, he keeps your pictures everywhere: his wallet, his phone case, by the door (so he can kiss it before he leaves), on his nightstand, and on his bathroom mirror so he can flex his muscles in front of you or just talk to you while doing his skin care routine

if you stay over multiple nights in a row, he starts referring to his apartment as “home” for both of you "Just move in here already!! Or we can get the apartment down the road. It's so pretty!"

definitely the type to say “this reminded me of you” every time he buys random home items

if you jokingly call him your husband once, he thinks about it for the next three business days "Cheol hyung, she called me her husband... I can't function!" *when he picks you up from a party* "Hi, it's me; the husband! I'm ready to pick up my gorgeous wife!" "Let's get married NOW"

secretly loves when people assume you live together already because honestly? in his mind, you practically do "Seokmin thinks we live together, isn't that crazy? Actually, you know what? It isn't."

one day you realize he’s been building a life around you so naturally that neither of you even noticed when it started happening "Mingyu?" "Yeah?" "Let's move in together." "Oh hELL YEAH! You won't regret it, babe. I'm calling the agent about that pretty apartment down the road. We need a place that's new and fresh if we want a fresh start for our new chapter together. God, I love you so much."

a/n: now im jealous of y/n

[808luvrr]

One Week Left

pairing - non idol ! seungcheol x f.reader [fluff/angst]

summary → you and seungcheol became best friends freshman year of college, drifting into something softer and unspoken by junior year when you became roommates. now, after graduating, he has one week left before enlistment— a countdown tied to his future at his father’s company and the life waiting for him after completing service. but between a simple haircut in your shared bathroom and the weight of leaving, everything he’s kept buried finally spills out, because what he’s really afraid of isn’t enlistment… it’s leaving the person he’s been secretly in love with for years

word count - 3.7k

warnings! → friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, mutual pining, love confession, yearning, seungcheol being devastatingly in love, military enlistment mention, pre-enlistment emotions, kissing/making out- no smut, years of repressed feelings, bathroom confession scene, soft/domestic intimacy, suggestive ending, happy ending, two idiots finally communicating

The bathroom smelled like vanilla, clean laundry, and Seungcheol’s cologne. The one he always wore without thinking. That warm, slightly spicy scent that clung to his hoodies and lingered in the apartment long after he’d walked out of a room.

It mixed with the softness of vanilla melting through the air in slow, comforting waves, trying to wrap the moment in something gentler than what it really was.

Clean laundry hung nearby from the rack beside the shower, still faintly warm from the dryer, fabric softener folding itself into the air every time you moved. It made the space feel lived in, like any other night, like nothing was about to change.

Like he wasn’t leaving in a week.

You’d lit the candle earlier to keep things feeling normal. Because to you, this wasn’t goodbye.

Not really.

It was just something difficult he had to get through before coming back home again.

But sitting in front of the mirror while strands of dark hair fell steadily around him, Seungcheol felt every inch of this moment settling into his chest with terrifying finality.

The low buzz of the clippers sounded too loud in the small bathroom. Every pass against his scalp stripped away another piece of familiarity, and with each lock of hair hitting the tile floor, the reality became harder to ignore.

One week.

One week before he left behind the apartment that had become more his home than any place ever had before.

One week before leaving you.

Meanwhile, you stayed focused carefully behind him. Occasionally brushing loose strands from his shoulders and chatting softly about completely ordinary things. The grocery list for tomorrow, your cafe manager finally fixing the broken espresso machine, and which of your friends would inevitably cry the most dramatically at the enlistment send off. 

Like this was temporary. Like the two of you would naturally fall back into this exact rhythm again once he returned.

And maybe that should’ve comforted him. Instead, it only made the ache in his chest worse.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and focused on the careful motion of your wrist.

One more pass.

The clippers hummed over the back of his head, leaving behind soft dark stubble. You stepped back slightly, examining your work before flicking the power off. Silence settled heavily between you.

“There,” you said quietly.

You brushed the loose hair from his neck before running your palm gently over the freshly shaved skin. The texture made your chest ache unexpectedly.

“All done.” A small smile tugged at your lips as you leaned down into his line of sight through the mirror. “Wow. Okay, it definitely looks weird.”

His brows lifted faintly.

“Not bad weird,” you corrected quickly, laughing softly. “Just.. you’ve never had your hair this short before.” Your fingers rubbed over the top of his head again playfully. “You actually look really cute.”

You moved around the stool until you stood between his knees, his legs naturally parting to make room for you in the cramped bathroom. Your hands stayed on his head, thumbs brushing along his temples while you grinned down at him.

It was the smile that always ruined him.

The one that crinkled your eyes slightly. That he’d watched across lecture halls and grocery aisles and lazy Sunday mornings in your shared apartment kitchen. The one that had slowly, disastrously made him fall in love with you years ago.

But instead of smiling back, his expression only seemed to sink further.

Your own smile faltered.

“Cheol?”

He looked away. His gaze dropped to the floor instead, landing on the ridiculous fuzzy green house slippers covering your feet.

The pair he bought you two winters ago after you’d spent twenty minutes dramatically mourning them in the middle of a department store because you couldn’t afford “unnecessary purchases” until your next paycheck from the café.

You’d worn them nearly every day since.

“Seungcheol,” you said again, softer this time, but still nothing.

You reached down, fingers curling around his chin until you gently tilted his face back toward you.

“Earth to Cheol?”

He swallowed hard, his eyes still locked downwards.

“I don’t want to go.”

The words came out rough, and your chest tightened immediately.

“I know,” you said carefully. “It’s not exactly an easy thing.”

You tried to give a reassuring smile again, thumb brushing along his cheek.

“But you’ll be back before you know it. And then you’ll start at your dad’s company and everything’ll work out.” You shrugged lightly. “Unless you can convince your dad to rearrange the plan somehow?”

He shook his head once.

“That’s not it.”

“Then what?”

His eyes finally met yours fully, and it nearly undid him.

Because you were looking at him the same way you always did. Soft, patient, worried for him before yourself. Standing between his knees in those stupid fuzzy green slippers, your fingers still warm against his skin from where you’d rubbed over his freshly shaved head, completely unaware you were holding his entire heart in your hands.

God. How was he supposed to leave this?

How was he supposed to pack up two years of shared mornings, late night convenience store runs and you humming in the kitchen while making coffee half asleep and just, walk away from it? From you?

His chest tightened painfully. All he could think about was time.

A week from now, he’d be gone, and life would keep moving without him.

You’d still go to the café on weekends. Burn pancakes every Sunday morning because you refuse to turn the heat down, and still laugh so hard at dumb movies you’d snort without realizing it.

But eventually, someone else might be there to see it. Someone else might start memorizing the little things about you the way he had.

Someone else might carry your grocery bags, and sit in his spot beside you at bars. Walk home with you at night, or hear you call their name from another room instead of his.

The thought made him feel sick.

Because Seungcheol had spent years pretending what existed between you was enough. Pretending friendship didn’t already feel dangerously close to love. Pretending he could survive watching you belong to somebody else someday.

But now there was an expiration date looming over him, and suddenly every second with you felt fragile. Temporary.

His throat tightened before speaking again.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

The words came out quieter than he intended. Not because he was unsure, but because saying them out loud made everything terrifyingly real.

Your heart stumbled at the words, a sharp, disorienting skip you immediately tried to dismiss. No, that wasn’t what he meant. It couldn’t be.

You latched onto the thought almost instinctively, like a reflex. Like you’d done a hundred times before whenever something about him felt like it tipped too close to something you weren’t supposed to look at too long.

He’s Seungcheol. Your best friend. Your roommate. The person who had been woven into the shape of your days for four years until it didn’t even feel like separate lives anymore.

That’s all this was. It had to be.

So you laughed softly anyways, a little too quick, a little too light, as if you could smooth the moment over before it had time to turn into anything else in your mind.

“You’re such a baby,” you teased gently. “I’ll still be here when you get out.” You squeezed his shoulders. “Plus, you’ll get leave sometimes, right? We’ll still hang out.”

He shook his head again, sharper this time.

Before you could say anything else, his hands suddenly wrapped around your wrists, stopping your movements against his shoulders. Slowly, he slid his hands down until his fingers intertwined with yours. And when he spoke again, his voice had changed completely.

Serious. Low. Almost trembling.

“I don’t want to leave you,” He repeated, his tone vulnerable and bare.

The air shifted. Your smile faded entirely now.

“Cheol..”

“I don’t want to leave and come back and..” He exhaled shakily, eyes squeezing shut for a second before reopening. “Be replaced.”

Confusion flickered across your face.

“Replaced? Seungcheol, what are you talking about? You’ll always—”

“I don’t want another guy taking my place in your life.”

The words hit you so hard you went completely still. For a second, your brain genuinely couldn’t process them. Not because you didn’t understand what he was saying, but because some terrified hidden part of you had spent years convincing yourself you imagined all of it.

The lingering looks, the way his hand always found the small of your back in crowded places. How naturally the two of you moved around each other like you’d built a life together without realizing it. The quiet domesticity of him bringing you home your favorite snacks without asking. Falling asleep together on the couch, sharing inside jokes, or tying his tie for him when he has to visit his fathers company building. 

Like he belonged in every crevice of your daily life. 

You had spent so long forcing yourself not to read into it. Because Seungcheol was Seungcheol. Your best friend, Your roommate, the person who had become home so slowly you never even noticed it happening.

And loving him had always felt dangerous. So instead, you suppressed it.

Buried every flutter in your chest when strangers mistakenly called you his girlfriend. How much you loved hearing him laugh from another room. Locked away the embarrassing ache you felt whenever he looked especially handsome before going out somewhere. Ignoring the way your heart would sink anytime another woman flirted with him in front of you.

You told yourself it was safer that way. Better to keep him as your best friend than risk losing him entirely. But now he was sitting in front of you looking terrified of losing you, and suddenly every moment over the last four years came crashing together so violently it almost made your chest hurt.

Your throat tightened painfully as you stared at him, your pulse pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears.

Meanwhile Seungcheol looked seconds away from unraveling completely, like he already regretted saying it out loud.

And somehow that made it worse. Because all this time, he’d been carrying the same feelings you had.

He laughed once under his breath, but there was nothing amusing about it.

“We live together,” he said quietly. “We cook together. We grocery shop together. We do laundry together. We spend every stupid Sunday rotting on the couch watching movies neither of us actually likes because we’re too lazy to change them.”

Your lips parted slightly.

“And somewhere along the way my feelings stopped being normal.”” He shook his head, his thumbs rubbed nervously against your knuckles.

“I like when strangers think we’re together.”

Your breath caught.

“I like when we argue over ramen flavors in the store and old women smile at us like we’re married already.” His eyes flickered up to yours finally. “I like when we go out drinking and some guy starts trying to flirt with you, but the second I walk back over beside you he leaves because he thinks I’m your boyfriend.” His voice softened painfully. “I like taking care of you.”

Your chest felt impossibly tight now, every feeling you had spent years carefully locking away had suddenly cracked open all at once.

It hurt. Not in a bad way, not really. Just, too much.

Too much affection. Too much relief. Too much longing you’d trained yourself not to touch because wanting Seungcheol had always felt like standing too close to the edge of something dangerous.

Your eyes burned as you stared at him. At the boy who had unknowingly become the center of your entire life, and now he was sitting here looking at you like losing you would ruin him.

The realization nearly knocked the air from your lungs. Because all this time, you thought you were the only one aching quietly through all those little moments.

All those nights lying awake in your room wondering what would happen if you reached for him first. All those mornings watching him half asleep in the kitchen, thinking with painful certainty that someday another woman would get this version of him instead.

But he was looking at you now with the same fear.

“I like knowing how you take your coffee.” He laughed quietly. “I like that you steal my hoodies and leave hair ties everywhere and sing badly when you clean the apartment. I like that you always save me the last dumpling even though it’s your favorite food.” His eyes glistened slightly. “I like coming home to you.”

The room felt too small, too warm.

The tiny bathroom that had always felt ordinary suddenly seemed intimate in a way it never had before. His knees brushing against your thighs, your hands still trapped in his, the soft buzz of the overhead light filling the silence between every shaky breath.

You could hear everything. The uneven rhythm of his breathing. The faint drip of the faucet. Your own heartbeat pounding violently in your ears.

And Seungcheol was close. So close enough that you could see the nervous swallow in his throat. Close enough to notice the slight tremble in his fingers where they held yours. Close enough that if you leaned forward even an inch, both of your foreheads would touch.

It made you dizzy.

Because suddenly every little domestic moment you both shared in this apartment over the years felt charged with something you’d spent too long pretending not to notice.

Late night conversations in this same bathroom while brushing your teeth. Him standing shirtless in the doorway after showers with wet hair dripping onto the floor while you complained at him to clean it up. You sitting on the counter while he shaved, talking about absolutely nothing for an hour because being near each other had always been enough.

How had you both survived living like this for years without combusting?

The warmth crawling up your neck had nothing to do with the bathroom anymore. It was him.

The way he was looking at you now, open and terrified, aching with love he could barely contain made the entire room feel suffocatingly small.. and he still wasn’t done.

“I love how excited you get over stupid little things,” he whispered. “Like finding books at thrift stores or those ugly ceramic frogs you keep collecting for some reason—”

“They’re vintage,” you muttered automatically through the overwhelming emotion building in your chest.

He huffed out a broken laugh. “See?”

And there it was again. That ridiculous, earnest defensiveness over something objectively stupid. Even now, standing in the middle of a life altering confession, both of you seconds from emotionally unraveling, you still couldn’t help correcting him about the ceramic frogs. It hit him with such painful affection he thought his chest might split open.

Because that was you. 

You cared so deeply about little things, threw your whole heart behind harmless, ridiculous things without embarrassment. You made ordinary moments feel alive simply because you existed inside them so fully, and Seungcheol had spent years helplessly falling in love with every tiny piece of it.

The way you argued passionately about thrift store finds. How you got distracted halfway through serious conversations because a dog walked past the window. The way you always, always found something to love in things other people overlooked.

Even now, with tears gathering in your eyes and his confession hanging heavily between you, your instinct has been to defend your stupid frog collection.

God. How was he ever supposed to leave someone like you behind?

Your eyes burned.

“I’m in love with you,” he finally admitted.

The words hung between you, raw and terrifying.

“And I’m horrified that while I’m gone, somebody else is gonna get all of this instead.” His voice cracked slightly now. “Somebody else gets to live with you and cook with you and hear you laugh at two in the morning and hold your hand in public and–” He stopped to breathe shakily. “I had to tell you before I left,” he whispered. “Even if you don’t feel the same. Because I think it would actually kill me if I came back and you belonged to someone else.”

Silence. Complete silence. Seungcheol’s heart pounded so violently he thought he might actually throw up.

Then suddenly, you laughed.

His brows furrowed immediately.

“What?”

You laughed harder, one hand flying up to cover your mouth as tears filled your eyes now.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked, completely bewildered as you breathed between laughs. 

“We are two huge idiots.”

He blinked at you.

“What?”

You shook your head, smiling so brightly it nearly knocked the breath from him.

Then you leaned down and kissed him.

Seungcheol froze. For one stunned second, his brain stopped functioning altogether.

But then his hands were suddenly at your waist, gripping tightly as he kissed you back with years of buried longing crashing into the moment all at once.

The kiss deepened instantly. Messy, desperate, relieved. 

You could feel the shaky exhale leave him as he pulled you closer between his legs, your fingers sliding over the newly shaved sides of his head as you kissed him again and again.

When you finally pulled apart for air, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours in disbelief.

“You idiot,” you whispered fondly, still smiling like you couldn’t quite believe him.

“You love me?” he asked, quieter this time, like saying it wrong might make it disappear. Like he still couldn’t fully trust it was real.

You hummed, pretending to think about it as your fingers absently traced the back of his hand.

“Unfortunately for you,” you said lightly, “yes.”

His breath caught just slightly. Then, like something finally clicking into place behind his eyes, his expression shifted.

“Since when?”

The question wasn’t playful anymore. It was careful and serious.

Your teasing smile softened at the edges, but you didn’t look away. “Junior year,” you said simply.

His brows pulled together immediately. “Junior year?”

You nodded once, like it should’ve been obvious, but it wasn’t. And you let him sit in it for a second longer before you added, softer now, just a little less teasing.

“You came back to the apartment at like 1am during midterms week,” you said. “And I was on the kitchen floor because I’d completely given up on studying.” Something in his expression shifted instantly.

“Oh.”

You nodded, watching him remember it piece by piece.

“I wasn’t sick,” you continued. “I wasn’t anything dramatic. I was just.. exhausted. Like, the kind where you feel stupid for crying but you can’t stop anyway.” His thumb tightened slightly against your hand. “And you didn’t try to fix it,” you said, voice quieter now. “You just sat down next to me on the floor like it was the most normal thing in the world and started going through my notes with me.”

A faint, almost disbelieving smile flickered on his lips. He remembered now, too. Especially how pretty you still looked when you sat in front of the kitchen stove covered in a sea of notebook paper.

“And you didn’t say anything about it being late, or how tired you were,” you added. “You just stayed until I stopped crying.” You shrugged slightly, like you were trying to make it sound small.

Seungcheol went quiet. Really quiet. Like he was realizing something he’d never considered before, that for him it had just been another night of taking care of you, showing up for you, but for you, it had been the night you started loving him.

A disbelieving laugh escaped him.

Then you grinned suddenly, mischief returning to your expression.

“So while you’re gone,” you said casually, “which room should I combine our stuff into?”

He blinked.

“Huh?”

“You know,” you continued innocently, in a way only you could. “Since obviously one room becomes ours and the other becomes a spare room.”

He let out a loud scoff laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before suddenly standing up. You squealed as he grabbed your thighs and lifted you effortlessly.

“Wow,” you laughed breathlessly, your arms sliding around his shoulders while your legs wrapped around his waist. “Someone got confident really fast.”

Seungcheol looked up at you with a grin that was equal parts smug and completely lovestruck.

“You kissed me first,” he pointed out.

“You confessed first.”

“And now I’m making up for lost time.”

Heat rushed to your face instantly at the way he said it, low and certain, like something in him had finally snapped after years of holding himself back.

You tried to laugh it off anyway. “Oh, so this is who you are now?”

“This,” he said, tightening his grip slightly beneath your thighs, “is who I’ve been trying not to be around you for four years.”

Your stomach flipped violently.

“Cheol–”

“I’m serious.” His eyes flickered down to your lips again. “Do you know how hard it’s been living with you looking like that all the time?”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Looking like what?”

“Like my girlfriend,” he answered immediately.

The bluntness of it made your breath catch.

“And now you actually are. No take backs,” he murmured, sounding a little stunned by the realization himself. Then his mouth curled into something more teasing. “So yeah,” he said softly, stepping closer until your back brushed the bathroom wall, “I’m gonna be confident for a minute.”

Before you could recover from that, he kissed you again, slower this time, deeper, like now that he finally had permission he never wanted to stop touching you.

Butterflies exploded in your stomach.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours again, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.

“We can figure the room thing out later,” he murmured. “But we only have one week before I leave.” Your breath caught at the look in his eyes. “And there are a lot of things I’ve been fantasizing about doing with you.”

Heat rushed to your face instantly.

“Choi Seungcheol!”

He grinned for the first time all night. Then he carried you out of the bathroom and down the hall toward his bedroom while your laughter echoed through the apartment the two of you had unknowingly turned into a home together years ago.

[ashlinxloves]

Has anyone written a pi cheolin fanfic yet, or will I have to tackle it myself.

[minhui896]

with the announcement of pi cheolin’s debut I think it’s time to bring back this lee Chan x pi Cheolin x reader smau by @wondernus https://www.tumblr.com/wondernus/739659991624138752/%CB%8B%CB%8F-the-fianc%C3%A9-%CB%8E%CB%8A-masterlist

Post by @wondernus · 3 images

💬 29  🔁 86  ❤️ 583 · ˗ˋˏ THE FIANCÉ ˎˊ˗ | Masterlist · synopsis: a mysterious pink fishing vest. a fiancé who wakes up in the middle of nowh

[nonranghaes]

seungcheol's hand curls around your own as he tugs it over to him with no resistance, leaving you to try and type one-handed at your laptop for the moment. you don't ask questions (seungcheol has always been the kind to surprise you with little things like this), but you do look over to see that he's sporting his own matching ring to the one he's sliding onto one of your fingers. he looks up at you, hair hanging in his eyes, and grins before pressing his lips against the ring.

"it reminded me of you, so i got it." he lets go of your hand, and you hold it up to survey the ring. the pattern does seem like something you'd like, and this is far from the first pair of rings the two of you have bought for one another, so it's a perfect fit. "do you like it?"

"it's pretty," you hum, and your hand cups his jaw. "not as pretty as you, but pretty."

he just scrunches his nose in response, smiling as best as he can when you squish his face a little bit more. seungcheol frees himself easily enough, leaning over just to press a lingering kiss against the side of your face before he gets back up to go put away the rest of his little shopping haul. he'll tell you about the time he spent with friends once you're done with your work.

but you wait until he gets a few steps away to call out, "you don't love me enough to kiss me right?"

all it takes is the sound of his thundering steps for you to know you've got him, hook, line, and sinker. he leans over your chair to kiss you properly, and you feel the way he smiles against your lips before pulling away again with that damn twinkle in his eyes. "hi," he says softly. "i love you."

he's too easy sometimes to tease. you just smile, blowing him a kiss as he walks away. "love you, too, silly."

[scarletwinterxx]

casualties of chemistry - choi seungcheol imagine

helllooooooo ~ i feel like it's been so long?😅 i'm just so happy i was able to write again, and sorry it took some time. i rewatched descendants of the sun and got inspired. you'll get it when you read this. hope you like it and see you on the next part!🤍

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2026 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pic not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzz overhead loud enough to make your headache worse.

Your scrubs are hidden beneath your coat, but the exhaustion still clings to you like a second skin. Twenty-one hours awake. Two trauma surgeries. Your shoulders ache as you stand in front of the drink fridge debating whether caffeine at 1:17 a.m. is self-care or self-destruction.

Probably both.

The cashier is half asleep behind the counter. The entire store smells like instant ramen and rain dragged in from outside.

Then

“Give it back, asshole.”

A younger voice. Nervous. Angry.

You glance toward the back aisle. four teenage boys crowd around another kid near the cup noodles section. School uniforms half worn properly, faces carrying that dangerous mix of boredom and ego.

One of them is holding a backpack above his head while the smaller boy tries to grab it back.

“Hyung, seriously,” the smaller one mutters “Stop.”

The tallest teen laughs “Then say please.”

You sigh quietly. Apparently the universe saw your exhaustion and decided you weren’t suffering enough tonight.

You shut the fridge door. The slam makes them look over.

“Hey,” you call out, voice flat from fatigue more than fear “Give him his bag back.”

The boys blink at you. “Now.”

The tallest one smirks “Yah, noona,” he says lazily “Just go home.”

You should. You absolutely should.

Instead you fold your arms.

“I’m giving you exactly five seconds before I decide to become extremely annoying”

The smallest boy looks like he might cry from relief someone intervened.

The taller teen scoffs “Why do adults always act like—”

“Four seconds.”

“You think we’re scared of—”

“Three.”

Another one snorts  “She’s crazy.”

You’re too tired to even deny it “Two.”

The tallest boy starts walking toward you instead. Your eyes narrow.

“Kid,” you warn “I work in trauma surgery. Do you know how little teenage intimidation affects me after seeing a man arrive with a knife through his thigh?”

That actually makes two of them hesitate but the leader keeps coming.

“Scary,” he mocks “What are you gonna do? Lecture me to death?”

You open your mouth when suddenly someone bumps lightly into your shoulder from behind.

Not hard hust enough presence to announce itself.

Instantly the air changes.

There’s a man standing beside you now. Tall. Broad enough to block half the aisle light. Black jacket. Black cargo pants. Combat boots darkened by rainwater. One gloved hand holding what looks like keys.

And his face—

God.

Sharp eyes. Strong jaw. Cold expression carved perfectly still. Not just handsome.

Dangerous almost.

The kind of man people instinctively move around. One glance from him and the entire mood in the store drops ten degrees.

The tallest teenager straightens immediately. You notice it right away, that shift.

Predators recognizing a bigger predator.

The man doesn’t even look at them fully at first.

He looks at you. His gaze flicks once over your tired face, your hospital ID hanging from your coat pocket, then toward the boys.

Calmly, he asks, “Problem?” His voice is low. Controlled.

Military. Or something authoritative because that much aura can’t be tied to a desk all day.

One of the boys immediately shakes his head “No, hyung.”

The man finally turns toward them completely. It’s subtle, but you catch it.

The posture. The alertness. The kind of stillness that screams trained.

“Are you bothering her?” he asks

“No.”

“Bothering him?” He nods toward the smaller teenager, they all stay silent which was answer enough.

The captain—because there is absolutely no way this man isn’t somebody’s terrifying superior officer somewhere—takes one slow step forward.

That’s it. One step and the boys immediately crack.

“Sorry!”

“We were leaving anyway—”

“Let’s go, let’s go.”

The backpack gets shoved back into the younger boy’s chest before the group practically trips over themselves escaping the store.

The bell above the door jingles violently as they disappear into the rain.

Silence settles. The younger teen bows rapidly at you both.

“Thank you,” he blurts before hurrying out too.

And just like that, it’s over.

You exhale slowly. Your adrenaline crashes almost immediately after. The man beside you finally looks down at you properly.

Up close, he’s even worse.

Broad shoulders stretching beneath dark fabric. Wet black hair pushed back carelessly. A faint scar near his jaw.

While his eyes linger on the dark circles beneath yours.

“You shouldn’t confront groups alone,” he says

You stare at him then laugh once in disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

His eyebrow lifts slightly “I’m serious.”

“And I’m serious when I say I’m too tired to tolerate being scolded by Batman”

For the first time, his expression shifts. Barely.

“You do this often?” he asks

“What? Interfere when kids are acting stupid?”

“Yes” You shrug tiredly and walk toward the fridge again.

“I’m an ER doctor. My entire career is built around interfering when people are acting stupid.” you continue.

You grab two canned coffees without thinking. When you turn around, he’s still watching you like he’s assessing every movement automatically.

Definitely military.

You hold one coffee out toward him.

“A peace offering since you apparently saved me.”

“I didn’t save you.”

“No?” You tilt your head “Those boys looked one second away from peeing themselves.”

“They were kids.”

“Mm. Terrified kids.”

He takes the can from your hand finally. His fingers brush yours briefly. Warm despite the cold rain outside.

“Choi Seungcheol,” he says after a moment.

“Military?” you ask. He raises a brow at your question so you continue,

“You’re too scary to be an office worker, you’re dressed in all black and let’s not get started on your combat boots”

That earns a chuckle from him.

“Military, Captain. And you? Doctor?” he points at your ID and scrubs under your coat

You nod once  “Y/N.”

“You’re just Y/N?”

“You’re just Captain?” Another almost-smile. Dangerous how attractive that becomes on his face.

The cashier awkwardly clears his throat from the counter like he’s been witnessing a drama unfold in real time.

You both walk up to pay.

“You’re getting off work now?” Seungcheol asks

“At this point I basically live at the hospital.”

“What kind of doctor?”

“Traum, ER, general surgery.”

That finally gets a real reaction from him. A slight widening of the eyes. “You do emergency surgery?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s rough.”

You snort softly “You say that dressed like you came straight out of a classified mission.”

His gaze flickers toward you “Something like that.”

You pay for the coffees When you step outside, the rain has softened into a drizzle. Streetlights reflect gold against wet pavement.

You pull your coat tighter around yourself.

Then notice the black motorcycle parked near the curb. Of course he rides that.

Seungcheol catches you looking “You disapprove?”

“I know the statistics of how many injuries per month are caused by that very vehicle” you say honestly then look at him, head to toe” It’s annoyingly fitting.”

He actually laughs this time, low. Brief. It changes his whole face. You hate how handsome it is.

“You parked far?” he asks

“A block away”

“I’ll walk you.”

You immediately shake your head “That’s unnecessary.”

“At 1:30 in the morning?”

“I can handle myself.”

“I know ” The answer comes instantly. Certain and somehow that makes you pause because he really means it.

Then he gestures down the sidewalk “Come on, doctor.”

Captain Choi Seungcheol looked at you like he already knows you’re capable of handling yourself.

He just doesn’t want you doing it alone tonight.

=

It’s been a few days.

To Seungcheol, you were supposed to be one of those strange late-night encounters people forget after a week.

A tired doctor. A convenience store. That should’ve been it.

Except he remembered things annoyingly well.

Your name. Your face. The hospital ID hanging from your coat. The way you looked half dead but still stepped in front of a group of idiots without hesitation.

And apparently that information decided to stay lodged in his brain.

Which is why he’s currently standing inside the samer hospital he saw printed on your ID badge at nearly noon on three hours of sleep, staring at the giant directory board near the lobby while his best friend talks endlessly beside him.

“I’m telling you, it feels way better already,” Minho says while flexing his shoulder dramatically beneath his hoodie  “I think the medic overreacted.”

“You got stabbed.”

“It barely pierced.”

Seungcheol gives him a flat look.

Minho grins shamelessly “You worry too much, Capt”

They’re waiting outside OPD wing after Minho insisted he was “completely fine” for three straight days before finally admitting he couldn’t lift his arm properly.

The hospital around them moves like organized chaos.

In the thirteen minutes they’ve been standing there, Seungcheol has counted at least nine staff members rushing past.

Nurses pushing carts. Residents jogging with tablets in hand. A doctor speed-walking while eating half a sandwich and reading scans simultaneously.

It reminds him too much of command centers before operations.

Everyone moving with purpose. One mistake meaning disaster.

Life and death.

Just cleaner here. More fluorescent lighting. Less guns.

“You’re not even listening,” Minho complains

“Hm.”

“I said after this we should eat samgyeopsal.”

“You say that every day.”

“Because it’s always a good idea.”

Seungcheol’s attention drifts again toward the ER hallway visible from the waiting area. Your hallway he assumes. He wonders briefly if you’re down there right now yelling at residents.

Then, all of a sudden

“Clear the way!”

The voice cuts sharply through the corridor. Immediate.

Everything shifts instantly. Nurses move aside. Orderlies straighten. People clear space without hesitation.

Seungcheol turns automatically toward the sound snd sees you.

For one suspended second, the entire hallway narrows into a single scene. A trauma bed flies through the corridor surrounded by staff.

You’re on top of it. Actually on top of it. Kneeling over the patient while the bed moves at full speed.

Your bloody gloves press down hard against someone’s chest.

“BP crashing!” Your voice slices through the panic perfectly steady.

“Resume compressions.”

You’re still wearing dark blue scrubs, sleeves shoved to your elbows. Blood streaks across your forearms. There’s something smeared near your jaw you clearly haven’t noticed.

But your face… your face is terrifyingly focused. Locked in.

The same way Seungcheol has seen soldiers during active operations. Pure training taking over.

He watches your hands move with brutal precision.

Compression. Count. Check. Compression. Count.

“Move!”

The bed rushes past. You don’t even notice him standing there. You’re too busy keeping someone alive.

And somehow that hits him harder than expected. Beside him, Minho goes unusually quiet.

“…Whoa.”

The trauma team disappears through double doors. Silence returns slowly afterward.

Distant announcements overhead.

But Seungcheol still stares at the doors. His military career has put him in firefights, covert extractions, hostage situations.

He knows pressure. He knows adrenaline.

Minho lets out a low whistle “Your doctors here are insane.”

Seungcheol’s eyes stay on the trauma doors.

Almost twenty minutes later, he sees you again. You come walking down the corridor slower this time, peeling off bloody gloves with tired movements.

There’s another doctor beside you speaking quickly about scans “…possible splenic rupture but neuro says pupils reacted after—”

“I know,” you interrupt while signing something on a clipboard mid-walk  “Page me the second CT is uploaded.”

Then you finally look up. And stop.

Your eyes land on him instantly. Recognition flashes then confusion.

Captain Choi Seungcheol stands near OPD hall looking offensively calm in all black while your hospital looks like it’s actively collapsing around you.

You blink once “What are you doing here?”

His gaze flicks over the blood on your scrubs “You work like this every day?”

You look down at yourself briefly

“Oh” You rub absently at the stain near your jaw and fail to remove it entirely “Pretty standard Wednesday.”

“It’s Friday,” Minho says helpfully. You stare at him.

“…I genuinely didn’t know that.”

That finally makes Seungcheol huff out a laugh. Small but you notice it immediately.

Annoyingly attractive.

The other doctor beside you looks between the three of you curiously before muttering something about checking scans and walking off.

Then it’s just you, Seungcheol, and the very energetic stranger beside him. Minho brightens immediately.

“I’m Minho,his co-worker, bestfriend, confidante, drinking buddy” he says enthusiastically, immediately you wonder how a man like him is friends with a man like Sengcheol but also it makes total sense.

“OHHH wait you’re the convenience store noona!”

You freeze. Slowly turn toward Seungcheol.

“…You told your friend about me?”

“I mentioned a doctor.”

“He absolutely did not just mention a doctor,” Minho says instantly  “He remembered your full hospital name from your ID badge—”

“Enough.”

You look back at Seungcheol with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t even look embarrassed.

If anything, he looks mildly annoyed his friend exposed him.

“So,” you say slowly “Captain Choi Seungcheol remembers details, huh?”

His gaze meets yours steadily “Yes.”

And for some reason, with alarms ringing somewhere deeper in the ER and your pulse still running on adrenaline that single word affects you more than it should.

You glance down at the chart in your hands, then back at them. That’s when you notice both men staring at you.

You blink. Then laugh tiredly.

“What?” You gesture vaguely to yourself “Need stitching up too?”

Minho looks alarmed for half a second before Seungcheol points toward your face.

“There’s blood on your chin,” he says

Automatically your hand flies there “…Ah”

Your fingers come away red. Right. You probably look horrifying.

You huff a laugh “I look like a crazy person right now.”

“You look like you fought someone.”

“I kind of did.”

Your answer comes so naturally both men go quiet for a beat. Then you shake your head slightly and look back at Seungcheol.

“But seriously,” you say, “why are you here?”

His expression stays calm as ever “Not me” Then he points beside him.

“Him.” Minho immediately waves enthusiastically again.

You stare at him for one second before laughing despite yourself and waving back with your bloodied hand.

“That’s somehow more concerning.”

“He’s dramatic,” Seungcheol says flatly

“I heard that!”

“You were meant to”

You snort softly then somewhere deeper in the ER, an alarm suddenly starts blaring. Immediately your posture changes.

Doctor mode again.

Your head turns toward the sound before your brain even catches up. One of the nurses appears around the corner.

“Dr. Y/N, they need you in Trauma 2”

“I’m coming.”

You look back at the two men.

“Well,” you say while already walking backward “try not to stab yourselves again.”

“It was one time,” Minho protests

Then you disappear back through the swinging ER doors.

For a few seconds Seungcheol keeps staring after you.

The automatic doors swing shut.

Silence.

“Oh my god.”

Seungcheol doesn’t look away from the hallway “Don’t”

“So someone has a crush.”

That finally makes him turn. Slowly. Dangerously.

Minho grins wider immediately “You remembered her hospital, her department, her name, the fact she works ER—”

Seungcheol elbows him hard in the ribs

“OW—yah!”

“You talk too much”

“You absolutely like her!”

“I met her twice”

“Exactly.” Minho points dramatically toward the ER doors “And you already got the brooding military man stare going on.”

“I always look like this.”

“That’s somehow worse.”

Seungcheol exhales through his nose and looks back toward the trauma wing again despite himself.

Minho nudges him again with a grin “You should ask for her number next time”

“There won’t be a next time.”

Right then, one of the ER doors swings open again. You walk out halfway, scanning a chart while speaking to a nurse beside you.

Then absentmindedly, you look again towards their direction and you lift your hand and wave once in their direction before disappearing again.

Minho bursts out laughing instantly.

“Oh you are finished”

=

Two months passed. Eight weeks.  Which, in your life, feels more like Eight hours.

Trauma cases blur together. Overnight surgeries become afternoon consults become thirty-minute naps in the call room before another emergency rolls in.

You forget meals. Forget what day it is. Forget to answer texts for three days straight.

But somehow you don’t entirely forget Captain Choi Seungcheol.

Mostly because that would require forgetting a face carved by some genuinely unfair higher power.

Not that it matters. You saw him twice and honestly, you assume he forgot about you too.

Military men like him probably disappear for months at a time doing things you legally shouldn’t ask about.

Then Wednesday evening happens.

Oddly calm for once. No active traumas. No screaming. You’re sitting at the nurse station reading through post-op charts while sipping coffee that tastes vaguely like burnt regret.

One of the nurses pokes her head around the corner.

“Dr. Y/N? OPD asked if someone can check a laceration. They’re short staffed.”

“Mhm. I’ll do it ” You grab the chart absentmindedly while walking.

Male. Thirty. Forearm injury. You barely register the name. Your eyes are too focused on lab notes as you push aside the curtain.

Then freeze.

Oh.

Captain Choi Seungcheol sits on the examination bed in a black compression shirt with the sleeves pushed up.

You haven’t seen him in two months and somehow he still manages to look unfairly intimidating in fluorescent hospital lighting.

His gaze lifts immediately when you walk in. There’s a split second where genuine surprise crosses his face.

“There you are,” he says. Like he’s been expecting you specifically.

You blink once “…Why are you in my hospital bleeding again?”

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly “It’s not serious.”

You glance down toward the blood-soaked gauze wrapped around his forearm

“Mm,” you hum dryly “And I’m the queen of England.”

He actually huffs a laugh at that. You set the chart down and move closer. Only then do you notice the faint exhaustion beneath his eyes.

Like he hasn’t slept properly in days. Deployment, your brain supplies immediately.

You pull on gloves “What happened?”

“Scratch”

You slowly look up at him then deliberately peel back the gauze and immediately stop.

“…Captain.”

“It looks worse than it is.”

You stare at the deep graze tearing across his arm. Your eyes narrow slightly.

“That’s a bullet wound.”

“Barely.”

“Bullet wounds count as scratches now?”

“It grazed me”

“By definition, that is still being shot”

His eyes stay on your face while you work. Calm. Observant.

“You know what a bullet wound looks like?” he asks you, the question is casual but there’s something underneath it.

You continue cleaning the injury carefully “Apparently I do”

“You sound experienced”

You shrug one shoulder “Volunteer work overseas during residency”

“Where?”

“Borders near conflict zones mostly.” You pause. “Refugee camps. Emergency field hospitals”

You continue inspecting the wound.

“You?”

A faint smile touches his mouth “That’s classified”

You snort softly “Of course it is.”

“But yes,” he says after a second “Conflict zones”

You nod once like that explains everything because somehow it does.

You’ve seen soldiers before. Not polished recruitment-poster versions ,the exhausted kind, men who scan rooms before resting. Men who downplay injuries because pain becomes background noise eventually.

Captain Choi Seungcheol fits into that category too easily.

You disinfect the wound and he doesn’t even flinch.

“Either you have insane pain tolerance,” you murmur, “or your nerves are damaged”

“I’ve had worse.”

You glance at him briefly. That sentence unsettles you more than it should.

You begin stitching carefully. The room grows quieter.

Outside the curtain you hear distant announcements overhead, nurses chatting faintly, rolling carts passing by.

Inside just you and him.

“You disappeared” you say before thinking The words slip out accidentally.

Why did you say that?

But Seungcheol doesn’t look surprised

“Deployment,” he answers simply

“For a 8 weeks?”

“Longer than expected”

Your eyes flick toward him again. “And you came back straight to the hospital?”

“You’re here”

The answer comes so naturally you almost miss the implication entirely.

Your fingers still. Slowly you look up and he’s already watching you completely serious.

Your heartbeat does one very annoying thing against your ribs. You clear your throat and go back to stitching.

“You flirt terribly for someone this handsome”

That finally earns you a real laugh. Low and warm and rough around the edges from exhaustion.

“You think I’m handsome?”

You don’t even look up “I think you’re bleeding on my examination bed.”

“That wasn’t the question”

You tie off another stitch tighter than necessary. He doesn’t complain.

“You survived covert deployment missions,” you say coolly “You’ll survive not getting compliments.”

“Mm.” but he’s still looking at you like he already won anyway

You finish the last stitch and snip the thread cleanly.

“There,” you murmur “Try not to get shot again for at least a week.”

You peel off your gloves and toss them into the bin before leaning back slightly against the counter.

Now that the immediate task is done, the room settles into something quieter.

More dangerous somehow because Captain Choi Seungcheol looking at you while not actively bleeding is significantly harder to ignore.

Your eyes drift back to his face unintentionally.

Sharp nose. Strong jaw. Tired eyes. And apparently dimples.

You blink once.

Hold on.

He has dimples? You narrow your eyes slightly at him like this is personally offensive.

“What?” he asks

“You have dimples.”

That actually catches him off guard for half a second then he laughs softly again. And there they are. Deep enough to completely ruin your composure.

Oh, you’re in trouble.

You look away first before your dignity fully evaporates.

“So,” you say casually while writing notes on his chart, “safe to assume a man with a dangerous job like yours is single?”

His eyebrow lifts “That’s your professional medical assessment?”

“Absolutely.”

He leans back slightly against the bed, arms folding carefully to avoid the fresh stitches “And what’s the diagnosis based on?”

You pretend to think about it seriously. “Emotionally unavailable tendencies. Mild insomnia. Chronic work obsession.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“It should.”

He watches you for another second before the corner of his mouth lifts again “Safe to assume a woman with a job like yours is also single?”

“Would you like me to confirm or deny?”

His eyes sharpen immediately at the challenge.

“I’d like an answer.”

“Mm ” You tap the pen lightly against the chart “Maybe I enjoy keeping mysterious military captains stressed”

“You think I get stressed?”

“You came into a hospital with a bullet wound and called it a scratch” You tilt your head. “That’s either confidence or brain damage.”

“That’s not an answer either.”

“You’re persistent.”

“You’re avoiding.”

You stare at each other for one suspended second then your pager suddenly explodes to life against your waist.

Of course.

You close your eyes briefly. The hospital truly refuses to let you experience peace for more than twelve consecutive seconds. You glance down at the screen and sigh.

“Trauma consult,” you mutter

Seungcheol watches the immediate switch happen again. The way your entire posture changes instinctively the second work calls.

Like someone flipping a switch.

You grab another pair of gloves from the counter.

Before leaving, you pause by the curtain and look back at him.

“Come back in three days,” you say “I’ll check the wound.”

One of his eyebrows lifts slowly then that smug little smirk appears.

“A date then?”

You stare at him. Honestly stare.

Because the audacity.

Then, against your own will, you feel yourself smiling.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Captain”

“But you’re asking to see me again”

“Medically”

“Mm.”

“And if you reopen those stitches before then,” you continue while backing toward the door, “I’m charging you emotional damages”

His gaze follows you effortlessly.

“What if I come back without reopening them?”

You pause then point at him once.

“That,” you say, “depends how charming you manage to be in three days”

And before he can answer you disappear through the curtain again.

Leaving Captain Choi Seungcheol sitting alone in the examination room with fresh stitches, a slightly racing heartbeat, and the sudden realization that he is absolutely coming back in three days.

=

Three days later, you accidentally spend fifteen whole minutes staring at yourself in the hospital bathroom mirror.

Which is ridiculous. Actually ridiculous.

You’ve gone to work looking half dead for years. You’ve stitched arteries together after thirty-hour shifts looking like a raccoon dragged out of a hurricane.

And yet today you actually combed your hair properly. Your usually rushed bun is neat for once, not held together by stress and blind faith.

You even put on the faintest lip tint. Nothing dramatic.Just enough to make you look less like the hospital crypt keeper.

And the perfume— god. You haven’t touched that perfume in months.

One spray. That’s it.

You blame sleep deprivation. Clearly your frontal lobe is failing.

The second you walk into the ER station, Head Nurse Yang narrows her eyes at you immediately.

Ms. Yang has worked trauma nursing longer than you’ve been a surgeon.

Nothing escapes her. Not fear. Not exhaustion and apparently not lip tint either.

“Hm,” she hums suspiciously

You don’t look up from the charts in your hands “What?”

“Something’s different”

You keep your voice perfectly casual “Huh?”

Ms. Yang continues staring.

“I don’t see it,” you say quickly

“Mhm.” That single hum holds seventy years of judgment.

You ignore her mostly because if you acknowledge it, you’ll have to admit you spent ten entire minutes deciding between two shades of lipstick this morning like a lunatic.

The ER stays surprisingly manageable through most of the afternoon.

A motorcycle accident. Two fractures. One drunk guy insisting his traffic cone was “emotionally supportive.”

Standard Wednesday.

By around three, you’re finishing notes at the nurse station when one of the younger nurses approaches with an amused smile.

“Dr. Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Your patient is here” Something in her tone makes your eyes narrow immediately.

“My patient?”

The nurse tries—and fails—to hide her grin.

You look up and there he is. Captain Choi Seungcheol stands near the ER entrance in dark jeans and a black long-sleeve shirt rolled to his forearms.

No tactical gear this time.no visible injuries beyond the healing stitches beneath his bandage which honestly makes him worse somehow.

Because now there’s nothing distracting you from the fact he looks unfairly good standing under fluorescent hospital lights.

His gaze lands on you instantly. His eyes sharpen slightly.

You stand slowly from your chair.

Behind you, Ms. Yang suddenly makes a tiny noise of realization “Oh.”

Traitor. You ignore her with dignity. Mostly.

Seungcheol walks over calmly, hands tucked loosely into his pockets

“You look different,” he says immediately

You cross your arms “You sound like Head Nurse Yang.”

Your stomach betrays you in the most embarrassing way imaginable by flipping slightly. Professionalism. Remember professionalism.

You clear your throat “Did you reopen the wound?”

“No.”

“Fever?”

“No.”

“Pain?”

“Manageable.”

You nod once  “Good. Follow me.”

You lead him toward one of the smaller examination rooms, painfully aware of at least three nurses watching with open interest. The second the door closes behind you, the atmosphere changes.

Quieter.

You gesture toward the examination bed.

“Sit.”

You step between his knees to unwrap the bandage carefully, and immediately realize this was a tactical mistake because now he’s close.

Way too close.

You catch traces of clean soap and something woodsy beneath it. Your perfume probably mixes with it in the tiny room.

Fantastic.

You focus on the wound instead. The stitches look good. Healing cleanly. No infection.

“You listened,” you murmur while inspecting the skin

“I follow orders sometimes”

“Liar”

A soft laugh rumbles from his chest. You glance up instinctively… big mistake because he’s already looking at you.

Not your hands. Not the wound. You. Your fingers still briefly against his arm.

There’s a beat of silence.

“You wore perfume”

Your eyes widen slightly. Oh, he’s observant-observant.

You recover quickly “You noticed?”

“You walked in and three nurses looked at you like they’d discovered hospital gossip for the next month”

“I’m transferring departments.”

He laughs quietly again and there are those stupid dimples. You finish rewrapping his arm carefully.

“Captain, if you flirt while I’m holding scissors, that’s on you”

“I think you like me.”

You look up slowly “Oh?”

“You haven’t denied it once.”

The confidence on this man.

Honestly.

You tie off the bandage tighter than necessary. He doesn’t even react.

“You military men are exhausting”

“And yet,” he says calmly, “you wore perfume”

You finish securing the clean bandage around his arm carefully, fingers smoothing the tape against warm skin.

“Alright,” you say, slipping back into your practiced doctor voice before this room gets any more dangerous. “Keep it dry and clean for another week. No heavy strain on the arm.”

“Yes ma’am.” Your hand pauses for half a second against his wrist.

Oh.

Oh that voice should genuinely come with a warning label. Low. Smooth. Obedient in the most deliberate way possible.

You recover professionally. Mostly.

“Don’t lift anything stupid,” you continue calmly

“Yes ma’am.”

Your soul briefly leaves your body. You clear your throat and refuse to acknowledge the fact your ears suddenly feel warm.

“Also,” you say while reaching for the chart a little too quickly, “if the wound opens, if you get feverish, dizzy, increased pain, redness—come back immediately.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You finally look up at him properly. His expression is completely composed. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

And the worst part? He absolutely does.

You narrow your eyes slightly “You seem very pleased with yourself right now”

“I’m following instructions.”

“You’re weaponizing manners.”

One corner of his mouth lifts. Those stupid dimples appear again.

You need the universe to stop giving this man additional attractive features.

For public safety.

You finish scribbling notes onto his chart before setting the clipboard aside.

Then casually—very casually—you say:

“And for the record…”

His gaze lifts immediately. You peel off your gloves slowly, tossing them into the bin.

“I can actually look like this,” you gesture vaguely toward yourself, “on a good day.”

There’s a beat of silence. Seungcheol looks at you fully then.

His eyes move over your neat hair, your glossed lips, the perfume he already noticed, the version of you that exists outside blood stains and overnight exhaustion.

Then he breaks into a smile. Warm enough to completely transform his face.

Dimples and all.

“Here I was,” he says softly, “thinking you were going on a date”

You raise an eyebrow immediately while reaching for the discharge forms.

“I thought this was one.”

Silence. Then Seungcheol smirks. Slowly. Like he enjoys watching you land hits back just as much as giving them.

Dangerous man. Absolute menace.

You sign off the chart and step outside the room where the assigned nurse is very obviously pretending not to eavesdrop. She startles slightly when you hand her the paperwork.

“Discharge complete” you say with suspicious professionalism.

“Yes doctor,” she answers equally suspiciously.

You turn back toward Seungcheol as he stands from the examination bed.

You pull a business card from your coat pocket and hold it out to him.

“My direct line,” you say

His eyebrows lift slightly as he takes it.

“You know,” you add casually, “for whenever there’s emergency anything.”

His thumb brushes over the card once while reading your name. Then he looks up at you slowly.

“Emergency anything?”

You cross your arms lightly “Bullet wounds. Concussions. Poor decision making.”

“What category is asking you to dinner under?”

Your breath catches for the tiniest second.

This man.

You tilt your head “Depends.”

“On?”

“How good the restaurant is.”

He chuckles quietly “Yes ma’am.”

And there it is again.

That damn yes ma’am.

You genuinely have to look away for a moment just to preserve what’s left of your composure.

Behind you, the nurse suddenly makes a choking sound suspiciously similar to holding in laughter.

Traitor.

You point toward the hallway before your dignity fully collapses.

“Out,” you say firmly. “Before I prescribe bed rest permanently.”

Seungcheol starts walking backward toward the exit, eyes still on you.

“Dinner Friday?”

“You’re very confident for someone recently shot.”

“You gave me your number.”

“For emergencies.”

“Meeting you sounds medically necessary.”

You actually laugh then. Real enough that a few nurses glance over curiously.

And Seungcheol notices that too. The fact he made you laugh and something softer flickers across his face for half a second.

Then he taps your card lightly against his chest pocket.

“I’ll text you, doctor.”

And somehow that simple promise feels far more dangerous than any bullet wound ever could.

=

Friday arrives surprisingly fast.

Mostly because your week disappears under consults, surgeries, and one forty-eight-year-old man who somehow managed to fracture his wrist trying to “race” his nephew.

But eventually—

Friday.

Your actual rest day.

Which feels fictional.

You wake up without an alarm for the first time in weeks and stare at your ceiling in confusion for a solid thirty seconds.

Then your phone lights up.

Seungcheol: 7pm. Don’t be late, doctor.

You smile before you can stop yourself.

The entire afternoon becomes embarrassingly unfamiliar territory for you because apparently you no longer know how to prepare for things outside hospital shifts.

You stand in front of your closet way too long. Reject three outfits. Reject four more and eventually settle on something simple but nice enough to make you feel human instead of clinically exhausted.

You even do your hair properly this time instead of throwing it up in survival mode.

When Seungcheol texts offering to pick you up, you refuse immediately. Mostly because the thought of him seeing you standing outside your apartment nervous makes you want to launch yourself into traffic.

So instead you agree to meet there.

The restaurant he picked is one of those impossible-to-book places tucked between city streets glowing warm with hanging lights and low music.

Packed even on a Friday evening. The kind of place where conversations melt together softly and plates constantly clink against tables.

Then the restaurant doors open.

And there he is. Black button-up. Sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. Dark jeans. Hair slightly damp like he showered quickly before coming.

You hate how immediately your stomach flips.

His eyes find you almost instantly across the restaurant.

Then soften like seeing you relaxes something in him automatically.

God help you.

He reaches the table and pauses just long enough to look you over openly.

“You look pretty.”

Straight to the point. No hesitation. You blink once at the sincerity of it.

Then recover enough to smirk lightly.

“You clean up well yourself, Captain.”

“I tried.”

“I can tell.”

His dimples appear briefly when he pulls your chair out for you.

Oh you’re doomed. Absolutely doomed.

Dinner starts easily after that. Too easily.

Conversation flows without effort somehow.

You learn he drinks coffee black enough to qualify as chemical warfare. He learns you once fell asleep standing up during residency and scared an intern half to death. You tease him for being terrifyingly observant. He teases you for pretending not to care while clearly caring a lot.

The food arrives eventually and thankfully lives up to the hype.

At one point you’re halfway through laughing because he admitted Minho once accidentally set off an alarm during training—

Then his phone rings.

Everything changes instantly.

You see it happen in real time. His posture straightens before he even answers.

Eyes sharpen. Expression hardens.

Soldier.

He checks the caller ID once and immediately stands.

“Excuse me.”

You nod quietly. He answers the call a few steps away from the table.

“Yes sir.”

Pause.

“I understand.”

Another pause.

“I’m on my way.”

By the time he hangs up, his jaw is tight. And when he looks back at you—

There it is.

That look.

You know it immediately. Too well.

You’ve worn it yourself after interrupted dinners, canceled holidays, sleepless nights.

Duty first. Always.

The guilt of leaving. The frustration of having no choice.

He walks back over quickly “Y/N, I—”

You smile before he can finish “Go.”

His expression tightens further

 “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s—” “Seungcheol.”

That makes him stop. You lean back slightly in your chair, softer now.

“I get it.” And you do.

Completely.

Because trauma surgery isn’t kind either. You’ve left meals untouched. Missed birthdays. Walked away from people mid-conversation because somebody somewhere stopped breathing.

You know what it means when lives depend on you showing up.

You’ve lived it. So you just smile gently and say:

“Duty calls.”

Something in his expression shifts at that. Like relief mixed with something heavier.

“We can reschedule,” you continue lightly. “Seriously. It’s fine.”

For a second he just looks at you like maybe he expected disappointment or anger or someone who wouldn’t understand this part of him.

Instead you simply hand him an easy out. No guilt attached.

“You sure?” he asks quietly

You nod once “Go save the world, Captain.”

A breath of a laugh leaves him. Then he reaches for his wallet immediately. You open your mouth to protest.

“Don’t,” he says. You close it again. He pays quickly, apologizes to the waiter, then turns back to you one last time.

“You’ll text me when you get home?” There it is again. Even rushing toward danger, he’s still making sure you’re okay first.

You smile softly “Yes, Captain”

He stares at you for one second then laughs despite himself.

“Troublemaker.”

“Go.”

Reluctantly, he does. You watch him disappear through the restaurant doors.

A few moments later you hear it, the deep rev of his motorcycle outside. Then it fades rapidly into the night as he speeds away toward whatever emergency dragged him from dinner.

And strangely enough you don’t feel upset.

Disappointed maybe. A little. But not because of him, mainly because you wanted to spend more time with him.

But mostly you understand him now maybe more than either of you expected.

=

Thirteen weeks pass after the interrupted dinner. 91 Day.

Thirteen long, busy, exhausting weeks.

At first, you check your phone more than you should. Not obsessively. Just… enough to annoy yourself.

A part of you knows better.

Captain Choi Seungcheol warned you from the start without really saying it outright.

Covert assignments. Deployments. Disappearances.

The kind of job where silence sometimes means safety.

Then two days after your date, the news breaks.

Some international incident overseas. Nothing detailed. Just enough military presence mentioned for your stomach to twist unpleasantly.

You stare at the television mounted in the hospital cafeteria longer than necessary.

Then force yourself back to work because that’s what both of you do, apparently.

You throw yourself into surgeries. Into consults. Into twenty-hour shifts and caffeine and organized chaos. And eventually you stop expecting texts.

Stop glancing at your phone every hour.

You accept it quietly.

This is what being involved with someone like him means.

Long silences. Uncertainty. Waiting without asking questions.

Still, sometimes late at night between cases, you think about him.

About dimples and smug smiles and black motorcycles disappearing into the dark.

And annoyingly enough—

You miss him.

Which feels absurd considering technically you only had one almost-date.

Tonight the ER is chaos again.

Not trauma-level chaos. Just deeply irritating chaos.

A group of men got into a massive fight outside some nightclub and now half of them are crowded into emergency bays drunk, bleeding, loud, and incredibly uncooperative.

One has a broken nose. Another possibly fractured ribs. One guy keeps trying to flirt with nurses while actively vomiting.

You’re already tired.

Now you’re tired and annoyed.

“Sit still,” you say sharply while trying to examine a cut above one patient’s eyebrow

The man smells aggressively like alcohol.

“I’m fine,” he slurs

“You’re bleeding on my floor.”

“You’re pretty.”

“And you’re concussed.”

One of the nearby guards snorts quietly. The drunk patient suddenly jerks his arm away.

You grab for gauze before it falls and the man shoves you unexpectedly.

Everything happens fast.

Your balance tips backward instantly. You’re already mentally calculating how badly this floor is about to hurt when a solid arm catches you around the waist before you hit the ground.

Firm. Steady. Immovable.

You inhale sharply. The familiar scent hits first.

Soap. Leather. Cold night air.

Then warmth.

You look up immediately.

And your heart nearly stops.

Captain Choi Seungcheol stands behind you in full uniform. Not casual clothes. Not civilian. Uniform.

Dark tactical gear still dusted faintly with dirt like he came straight from somewhere far away.

Broad shoulders. Heavy boots. Black gloves.

And his face—Jesus. He looks terrifying. Cold enough to freeze the entire room.

The guards straighten instantly.bEven the drunk men go quieter.

Seungcheol barely notices any of them at first. His eyes scan you rapidly instead.

“You hurt?” The question comes immediately.

Your brain short-circuits slightly because he’s here. Actually here.

You blink once “I’m fine.”

His hand remains firm at your waist another second longer like confirming it himself. Only when he’s certain you’re steady does he move. Then suddenly you’re being guided gently behind him.

Protected instinctively.

The shift is so natural it almost startles you.

Seungcheol steps between you and the drunk patient completely.

The room changes instantly.

The drunk guy straightens defensively. “Who the hell are—”

“Sit down.”

The command slices through the ER. Absolutely lethal underneath.

The man actually hesitates.

Seungcheol’s gaze locks onto him steadily “You assaulted medical staff.”

“I barely touched—” “You put your hands on a doctor while intoxicated inside an emergency department.”

“You will sit down,” he says evenly, “and you will cooperate with treatment.”

The drunk man scoffs weakly. “Or what?”

Behind Seungcheol, you almost sigh. Poor idiot.

Because you’ve seen that look before now. The hypercontrolled one. The one soldiers get when violence becomes an option they’re actively suppressing.

Seungcheol tilts his head slightly.

“Or security removes you,” he says calmly. “And I become significantly less polite.”

Then immediately the drunk man sits.

One of the guards coughs suspiciously like he’s hiding laughter. You cross your arms behind Seungcheol, trying very hard not to look affected.

Failing horribly.

Because good lord.

There’s something deeply unfair about this man appearing out of nowhere looking like a military recruitment poster designed specifically to ruin your emotional stability.

The patient mutters curses under his breath but stays seated now.

Seungcheol waits another moment before finally turning back toward you. And instantly his expression changes again.

Softer.

Like the terrifying soldier disappeared the second he looked at you.

“You sure you’re okay?”

You stare at him.

Seven weeks. No messages. No calls. Then suddenly he’s here catching you mid-fall like some absurd action movie entrance.

Your brain struggles briefly.

“You vanished,” you blurt out before thinking.

His eyes flicker slightly “I know.”

The answer is quiet and annoyingly sincere.

You open your mouth then another patient across the room starts yelling.

The universe truly hates timing.

Seungcheol notices immediately and huffs the tiniest breath of amusement.

“You’re busy.”

“You think?”

His gaze lingers on your face a second longer.

Then lower. To your wrist. Very gently, he adjusts the sleeve of your coat where the drunk patient grabbed you like he’s making sure you’re unharmed without making a scene about it.

Your pulse betrays you instantly.

“I just landed,” he says quietly. “Came straight here.”

Before you can answer, one of the nurses suddenly appears beside you looking between both of you with absolutely shameless curiosity.

“Doctor,” she says carefully, “Trauma 1 needs you.”

Of course they do.

You exhale through your nose. Then look back at Seungcheol.

He steps aside immediately.

“I’ll wait,” he says.

And for the first time in three exhausting weeks you smile without even trying to stop it.

Seungcheol stays near the edge of the nurses’ station after you leave him there, broad shoulders still carrying traces of travel and exhaustion from deployment.

He should probably report back first. Should probably head home. Should probably sleep after nearly twenty hours in transit.

Instead he’s standing in a crowded emergency room at almost midnight watching a trauma surgeon terrify grown men.

His eyes follow you automatically. Always finding you no matter how chaotic the room gets.

You move fast.

A nurse meets you halfway with charts already open and you barely glance down before issuing orders.

“Get repeat vitals on Bed 6.”

“Where’s radiology?”

“Page ortho again and tell them if they ignore me this time I’m dragging them down here myself.”

“Yes doctor.”

Another patient starts yelling about pain medication. You don’t even look up from stitching a split lip.

“You threw a chair at a paramedic fifteen minutes ago,” you say calmly. “You can survive five more minutes.”

The patient immediately quiets.

One of the residents beside you mutters, “Scary.”

You hear it “Then stop forgetting chart updates.”

“Yes doctor.”

Seungcheol almost laughs because there it is again.

That switch. The same one he saw the first day in the hallway when you were covered in blood kneeling over a crashing patient.

The terrifying competence. You become sharper under pressure. Like chaos organizes itself around you instead of the other way around.

It’s familiar to him. Too familiar. In military operations, the best leaders aren’t the loudest. They’re the calmest when everyone else starts panicking.

And youu command this emergency room exactly like that.

People move when you speak because they know you know what you’re doing.

A drunk patient suddenly grabs at a nurse’s wrist aggressively.

Seungcheol straightens immediately on instinct. But before he can move you’re already there.

“Hands off her.” Your voice cuts through the room cleanly

The patient scoffs drunkenly “Relax sweetheart—”

“Security.” The single word lands like a gunshot. Two guards instantly move forward.

The patient starts protesting immediately but you don’t even spare him another glance, already turning back toward your nurse.

“You okay?”

The nurse nods quickly. You squeeze her shoulder once before continuing down the row of beds like nothing happened.

One of the security guards near him notices where he’s looking and chuckles quietly.

“Dr. Y/L/N is usually scary,” the older man says knowingly.

Seungcheol’s eyes remain on you. You’re currently arguing with a resident twice your size while simultaneously putting pressure on someone’s bleeding shoulder.

“Mm.”

The guard grins. “Whole ER’s terrified of her when she gets like this.”

Across the room you snap your fingers toward another doctor “You. Gloves. Now.”

“Yes doctor.”

The guard laughs harder “See?”

But Seungcheol just watches you. Really watches you.

God.

To everyone else in this room, you probably do look intimidating.

Untouchable almost.

But to him you’re the prettiest thing he’s seen in weeks.

Maybe ever.

And that realization hits him with genuinely embarrassing force because Captain Choi Seungcheol has spent years avoiding attachment.

It’s easier that way.

His work requires distance, disappearing without explanations, accepting that one day he might not come back from deployment at all.

People like him don’t build stable relationships.

He learned that early. Yet here he is. Standing in a hospital ER watching you bully drunk patients and overworked residents with stars practically in his eyes.

Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

As if sensing him watching, you glance up suddenly from across the room.

Your eyes meet his immediately and your whole face changes. Just subtly softer around the edges.

Enough that he notices  his chest tightens unpleasantly.

You mouth something that looks suspiciously like: You okay?

Seungcheol nods once.

Your gaze lingers another second before you’re pulled away again by a nurse waving scans at you urgently.

The security guard beside him whistles low.

“…Oh.”

Seungcheol doesn’t bother asking what that means.

Because honestly? He knows. For a man trained to read threats, surveillance patterns, battlefield movement… It’s humiliatingly obvious.

Captain Choi Seungcheol is completely done for.

By the time he gets back to base, it’s nearly 3 a.m. Technically, his day should’ve ended hours ago. Instead, he spent the last several hours lingering in your ER while pretending he wasn’t waiting specifically for your shift to end.

You noticed, obviously.

Around midnight you finally walked over to him still carrying charts under one arm and said, “You know normal people go home and sleep.”

“I was making sure nobody pushed you again.”

Your eyes softened immediately at that. Which honestly felt more dangerous than any deployment he’s survived.

Eventually around two in the morning, your shift finally ended and for the first time since knowing you, Seungcheol saw you genuinely exhausted.

Actually exhausted.

Your steps slower. Eyes heavy. Hair half falling from your bun. You still tried to argue with him outside the hospital though.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s 2 a.m.”

“I’m not getting on your death machine.”

He blinked once “Death machine?”

“Your motorcycle”

“That hurts my feelings”

“It should”

He almost laughed right there in the parking lot. Then finally sighed and held up his keys.

“I took the car tonight.”

You stopped, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“…You own a car?”

“I’m capable of normal civilian behavior occasionally”

“Debatable.”

The drive starts quiet. Streetlights passing across your tired face in brief golden flashes.

At first you try staying awake. You really do. You ask him something about whether military cafeterias are actually as bad as people claim.

He asks if all surgeons survive entirely on caffeine and spite.

You laugh softly at that. Then gradually your replies get slower. Quieter. By the fourth red light, he glances over and realizes your eyes are barely open anymore.

“You can sleep” he says quietly

“M’not sleepin”

“You just lost a fight with your seatbelt five seconds ago”

“No I didn’t” You immediately drift sideways against the window.

A minute later you mumble, barely coherent “Address…” You unlock your phone halfway, fail, then eventually just type your apartment address into the dashboard navigation with sleepy determination.

After that? Done. Completely out cold within five minutes. No hesitation. No worry. Just trust.

It hits him strangely hard because people don’t usually fall asleep around him that easily. But you, you simply curled slightly into the passenger seat and slept. Like some exhausted part of you already decided he was safe.

Seungcheol drives slower after that. Careful over speed bumps. One hand steady on the wheel while city lights blur past the windshield.

At one point you shift in your sleep, face turning slightly toward him.

And God. He’s done for.

Absolutely catastrophically done for.

When he reaches your apartment building, he debates waking you immediately.

Instead he sits there for a second. Just looking.

Your face finally relaxed without hospital stress tightening your features. Soft breathing.

You look younger while asleep. Nothing like the terrifying trauma surgeon ordering residents around an ER.

Eventually he reaches over carefully.

“Y/N.” You make a tiny sound but don’t wake

His mouth twitches.

“Doctor.” Still nothing.

Then finally,

“Pretty girl”

Your eyes crack open instantly. Seungcheol nearly laughs at your betrayed expression.

“You’re evil” you mumble sleepily

“You drool when you sleep”

“I hate you”

“Sure”

You grumble under your breath the entire way to your apartment entrance while half asleep.bHe waits until you unlock your door safely.

Only before stepping inside, you turn back toward him.

Hair messy. Eyes barely open.

Beautiful.

“Text me when you get back”  Then you disappear inside before he can even answer properly.

And now hours later, Seungcheol closes the office door inside the base quietly, exhausted down to the bone.

He tosses his keys onto the desk. Rolls tension from his shoulders.

Finally alone or so he thinks.

“…So”

Seungcheol freezes instantly.

A figure emerges from the darkness of the office couch like an actual demon. Minho sits there with the most evil grin imaginable and a convenience store drink in hand.

Seungcheol stares “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough”

“You’re creepy.”

“And you,” Minho says while pointing dramatically, “are in love.”

Seungcheol immediately starts walking toward the coffee machine instead

“No.”

“Captain Choi Seungcheol voluntarily drove a woman home in his car instead of disappearing into the void after deployment.”

“She was tired”

“She fell asleep in your car?”

Silence. Minho gasps loudly. “Oh my GOD she fell asleep in your car”

“She works thirty hour shifts”

“She TRUSTS you”

“She was exhausted”

“You looked at her while she slept, didn’t you?” Seungcheol pauses for one fatal second. Minho screams.

“YOU DID!”

“Keep your voice down”

“You’re smiling!”

“I’m not”

“You literally have heart eyes right now.”

Seungcheol rubs one hand down his face tiredly whiich unfortunately only confirms everything further.

Minho jumps off the couch immediatel “This is insane. Captain Emotionally Unavailable actually caught feelings.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You drove slower because she was sleeping, didn’t you?”

Silence again.

Minho points aggressively. “Pathetic”

“She asked me to text her when I got back.”

That shuts Minho up immediately. Then slowly his grin returns ten times worse.

“Oh,” he says softly “Oh you’re both gone”

Seungcheol exhales heavily and pulls out his phone despite himself.bOne unread message already waits there.

you: did u get back safe or did the military finally lose their best employee

His chest does something deeply embarrassing. Minho watches his expression carefully then cackles loud enough to wake the entire base.

Minho is still laughing when Seungcheol finally drops heavily into the office chair.

Outside the office windows, the base is mostly quiet at this hour. A few distant footsteps. Radios crackling somewhere down the hall.

Meanwhile his best friend is having the time of his life watching him suffer.

“So,” Minho says while dragging a chair over dramatically, “tell me everything”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar”

Seungcheol leans back and closes his eyes briefly.

Instant mistake.

Because immediately he thinks of your face.

Hair falling loose in the ER. Sharp eyes over surgical masks. Soft sleepy expression in his passenger seat.

“See?” Minho points aggressively. “You’re doing it again!”

“Doing what?”

“That thing where you stare into space like you’re hearing wedding bells.”

Seungcheol opens one eye slowly “I can still have you transferred.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would.”

“You’re too happy lately.”

That makes Seungcheol snort quietly despite himself.

Happy.

Strange word. Not one he usually associates with himself. His life is schedules and classified files and deployments that end with blood on tactical gloves.

Not… this.

Not waiting outside emergency rooms just to drive someone home.

Minho studies him for another second before suddenly asking:

“So how is it? she looked extra scary tonight?”

And annoyingly enough Seungcheol knows exactly what he means. He exhales slowly and drags one hand down his face.

“She does this thing,” he says before stopping himself.

Minho immediately lights up. “OH MY GOD THERE’S A THING.”

“Shut up.”

“No continue.”

Seungcheol stares at the ceiling for a second, Trying and failing to sound normal.

“When she’s focused,” he says quietly, “everything else disappears ”

His mind flashes back instantly.You standing in the middle of the ER chaos while everyone moved around you.

Blood on your gloves. Sharp voice cutting through noise. Completely locked in.

Beautiful.

Terrifying.

Alive.

You're pretty when you're focused, in your element.

Then another image surfaces. You asleep in his passenger seat. Head tilted slightly toward him.

Trusting him enough to completely let go.

His chest tightens again at the memory.

And he can't help but think you're even prettier when you're like that, relaxed, void of any stress, just you.

Then the worst or best one really.  The most dangerous one.

You looking at him. Not doctor-to-patient. Not teasing. Just… looking at him softly after recognizing him in that ER tonight.

Relief hidden in your eyes. Like you were genuinely happy he came back safe.

And that— that one nearly kills him.

“The prettiest,” Seungcheol says finally, voice quieter now, “when she looks at me.”

Silence. Absolute silence.

Then Minho slowly lowers his drink onto the desk “…There you go again.”

Seungcheol blinks once “What?”

“Floating away”

“I’m sitting right here”

“No,” Minho says dramatically while pointing at him, “physically yes. Spiritually? You’re holding hands with her in a sunflower field”

That actually makes Seungcheol laugh.

Minho stares at him in disbelief afterward then shakes his head slowly.

“I have never,” he says firmly, “and I mean never ever seen you like this.”

Seungcheol falls quiet again. Because honestly? Neither has he. He’s spent years carefully detached from people. Not cold just practical.

His job taught him early that attachment complicates survival.

You leave easier when nothing waits for you.

But now there’s suddenly a trauma surgeon with messy handwriting and terrifying leadership skills occupying his thoughts at three in the morning.

A woman who understands duty instead of resenting it. Who patched bullet wounds without flinching. Who fell asleep in his car like she trusted him instinctively.

And worst of all… he wants more.

More dinners.

More late-night drives.

More sarcastic comments thrown at him over coffee.

More of you looking at him like he came back.

Seungcheol exhales slowly through his nose “…This is bad.”

Minho immediately points at him again. “That is the face of a man already planning marriage.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Seungcheol shakes his head once, but there’s no real denial left in it now because somewhere between the convenience store, the ER hallways, and you asleep in his passenger seat…

Captain Choi Seungcheol fell hard.

❌❌❌❌❌❌❌END OF PART ONE❌❌❌❌❌❌❌

[minhui896]

the way both of them realize the duality of each other and also how similar their work lives are and possibly even their daily lives it’s just so so cute to them getting closer by the day! can’t wait to read the next part!!

[svtts]

NEAR miss

pairing: f1 driver! & husband! yoon jeonghan x fem! & pregnant! reader

genre & warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of sex

desc: when jeonghan's car spins out of control on the track, you can't escape the dread that claws up your throat, knowing you had yet to reveal to him about the new life growing within you.

wc: 1.6k

Static. Ears ringing. Your breath was held somewhere in your throat. The buzz of the Ferrari lounge was suddenly decimated by the screech of tyres and the crash of metal.

The screen in front of you showed Jeonghan’s signature Ferrari red car spinning off the track, a result of a reckless stunt by Red Bull’s Kwon Soonyoung, which allowed for harsh contact that Soonyoung only just wobbled away from. Your husband, however, was not so lucky. 

Heart beating rapidly, you were standing dead still, watching the footage of his car as it smoked a concerning amount on the grassy run-off area. The room seemed to flicker their eyes from the screen to you, watching your reactions in real time. 

You were no stranger to Jeonghan crashing, driving recklessly and all of his other panic-inducing stunts. In fact, you’ve become quite accustomed to them, finding it very attractive when you’d hear a — ‘hope you were watching that baby.’ crackle over the replays. The smirk that bled through his cockiness, the words revealing that he performed just for you. After, you’d take him in the motorhome, in the car on the way to the hotel or in the bathroom tucked next to the garage. 

But this time it was different. Too much reckless sex had got you in this position. As you watched a crew of people run towards the car, you’re thinking of your husband and the small life that is growing in your stomach. 

It started with a smell. Jeonghan’s protein smoothie you’d made smelled repulsive, like all you’d done was blend up rotten fruit for him to sip. Too appreciative, when you mentioned that something might be off in the beverage, Jeonghan waved you off, kissing your cheek with an arm around your waist, slipping a small thank you in your ear. 

Then sweats. You never used to sweat this much. You could stand on the balcony in Monaco and only have to dab your forehead once. But holy shit, the stairs in your shared house were getting you soaked. 

Lastly, the nausea, dizzying and unforgiving, hitting you in waves. Especially right now, as the feed refused to confirm that Jeonghan was unharmed. 

You refused to sit and watch your husband potentially die on the screen, quickly beelining straight for the pit wall. Needing clarity, needing to know that the father of your unborn child, the one you chose forever, was okay. 

As you passed through the polished hallways, in and out of the beating sun, you thought of how many ways you could kill Soonyoung. With your bare hands, if he were in front of you right now. You thought of your husband, his heart beating slowly from the aggressive hit, unmoving through the commotion. Tears swelled, your heart racing at an unhealthy pace as you scanned your pass and entered the garage.

Minghao, Ferrari’s cold but deceptively lovely CEO, had you instantly, his arms engulfing your shaky frame as you took wobbly steps towards the pit wall. He put a pair of headphones over your ears, the team communicating busily on them, and Minghao kept you under his wing just to keep you steady. 

The hum of panicked chatter only added fuel to your fire, darting your eyes across all the monitors in front of you.

‘He’s out,’ a voice called over the transmission and a heavy sob left your lips as your shoulders hunched into Minghao. 

Bittersweet relief washes over you like spring rain, the tightening in your chest easing as your husband’s voice comes over the radio. 

‘That fucking idiot!’ He swears, over the feed, you see him snatch his helmet off almost dangerously and turn back to his car, as a swarm of crew begin to extinguish the brewing flames. 

‘Ya-,’ Minghao said next to you, his arm securely around you, ‘Kwon has gone too far, he has too much of a lust for winning.’ 

The camera follows Jeonghan as he wanders back down the track towards the paddock, the helicopter circling viciously as they attempt to zoom in on his hanging head. An engineer runs up beside him, attempting to start a conversation, but he is rapidly brushed off. 

‘Yoon Jeonghan of Ferrari is out of the race,’ the commentator speaks, ‘He was on the path to podium, what a shame, we will be hearing from FIA stewards shortly about the outcome of Soonyoung’s contact.’ 

‘That’s a fucking penalty, at least’ Minghao mutters, the shape of your husband coming into view. Your heart was still pounding, the reality of losing the father of your child too close for comfort. 

How would you live with yourself if he had, god forbid, died on the track today, unaware that his child was growing within you? 

He’d been in crashes, gnarly ones, ones that left you clinging onto him for days. Yet, today’s crash, a minor one in comparison to others he’s been narrowly involved in, sat heavily on your shoulders. 

As his figure approached, Minghao met him halfway, the two of them bursting into passionate conversation, the rest of the crew looking sadly and slightly fearfully at Jeonghan. You could hear your husband’s angry cursing as Minghao spoke softly next to him, so preoccupied with frustration that Jeonghan only realised you stood a few metres away as he moved to avoid a tyre. 

Jeonghan saw your streaky cheeks and slightly reddened eyes and instantly dropped his conversation. His frustration almost instantaneously converted into worry. You were never this visibly upset when he crashed. 

‘Oh angel,’ he cooed, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

‘I was fucking terrified,’ you reply, the news on the tip of your tongue as you embrace his sweaty frame. He tenderly pulled you into a tight hug, inhaling your scent, comfort coating him.

Conscious of the crowds, crew and cameras watching, he steered you away from the pit wall and into the paddock. 

‘Baby, you’ve seen worse,’ Jeonghan pouted at your big, glassy eyes. He quickly routed you both to the motorhome for privacy. This was so unlike you, you loved to banter with him, tell him off for his dangerous manoeuvres. It was unlike you to cry, let alone look so shaken. 

The door slammed shut securely behind both of you and Jeonghan guided you to the sofa, getting electrolytes from the fridge and gulping them down, his eyes not leaving your small frame. 

‘Hannie,’ you say softly, a large sigh leaving your mouth. ‘I have to tell you something.’ 

There was no time to waste — today cut too close. He had to know, fuck the cute reveal, the idea of the positive pregnancy test sitting on an extra chair at your table was long forgotten, the distant dream of kissing him sweetly at a restaurant after telling him you were expecting, dead to you. 

With your brief words, his heart began to race, anxiety rising through him. It seemed his adrenaline leapt back up as he looked at you, your big personality so small in front of him. 

He shot to your side, grabbing your clammy hands without a second thought. As he examined you, he noticed how pale you looked, a quiver subtly playing on your lip. 

‘Baby?’ He questioned, searching your eyes for answers. ‘What’s wrong?’ 

You smiled at him, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks as you smiled. ‘Hannie, I’m pregnant.’ 

Jeonghan’s face, etched with concern, dropped instantly. His eyes glassing over, ‘Are you serious?’ 

‘Deadly.’ You nodded softly, trying to scan his face for answers as he processed the information. 

Before you could stare another second, he pulled you into his arms tightly, a choked sob exiting his mouth as he shoved his head into the crook of your neck. Worry bled through you as you dug your hands through his silky locks. 

‘I’m sorry, we can think about other op-‘ 

His lips, sweet and familiar, met yours, his hand cradling your face with a softness that only he had mastered. Pure love channelled through the kiss, full of passion and adoration.

‘Angel,’ he gasped, ‘I’m so happy, holy shit! I’m going to be a dad, and you’re going to be a mum!’ 

Both of your faces mirrored euphoric joy, tears running down your cheeks. ‘We’re having a baby!’ 

Jeonghan lit up like he never had before, the crash a distant memory in the wake of this moment. He held you tightly, kissing every inch of your face, excitement pulsing through him like electricity. 

After what seemed like endless kisses, hugs and tears, you shyly apologised for revealing the news in such a rush, and before you could even explain the fear you felt, Jeonghan’s forgiving gaze reassured you that all was justified. 

‘Baby,’ Jeonghan said, before chuckling to himself and lowering his gaze to your belly, ‘Baby. I’m just happy you told me, I wish I had been there when you did the test.’ He pouted at the thought of you doing it in a sterile hotel bathroom alone, all of the anxiety and anticipation that you had to face by yourself. 

‘Honestly, I did it on a whim,’ you explained, as you let him pull you onto his lap and cuddle you closely. ‘I felt a bit off, stuff smelled weird and-‘ 

‘Yah,’ he exhaled, a small grin playing on his lips. ‘The smoothie.’ The dots were all connecting in your husband’s head slowly but surely.

‘The smoothie,’ you repeat with a light laugh, ‘which I may have to stop making for a little while.’ 

‘Angel, I’ll be making the smoothies from now on,’ he replied, rubbing your back tenderly, ‘and your morning coffee, and getting you your vitamins and-’ 

‘Hannie, baby. Let’s just get back home first.’ You said, pecking his lips. ‘Besides, I give it another…’ 

The clock ticked as you made your estimate, ‘two minutes before Minghao comes barging in.’ 

‘Fuck him, I’m going to be a dad.’ He stated proudly before, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. He didn’t think he could love you anymore, but alas, his heart pounded extra hard today, for you and for your baby.