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This Time We’ll Take It Slow

Word Count : 5,629

Type: One Shot

Characters: Seungcheol x Jeonghan

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Written by: Tita #2

You have 20 seconds.

You have 20 seconds to think what you’re going to say to him.

Seungcheol has given himself countless 20 seconds for the past few weeks to tell Jeonghan that he wants to break up with him. He has prolonged this confrontation for far too long now that he’s already convinced he’s just going to wait for Jeonghan to do it for him eventually. But tonight, as the two of them ate silently facing each other, Seungcheol felt an unusual courage. It could have been brought on by the fact that the other members were away and it was just the two of them by the Han River. They’ve been here on secret dates many times, and Seungcheol couldn’t hide his disappointment that this was going to be their last.

Jeonghan finally looked up from his cup of noodles and noticed his boyfriend’s sullen expression.

“What’s wrong?” Jeonghan asked haphazardly.

Seungcheol tried to force a smile, nervously fidgeting his chopsticks and looking away. Jeonghan knew better, though.

He put his cup noodles down and combed his now-short hair with his slender fingers. He heaved an exasperated sigh. He was never a confrontational person himself but he’s always been open to Seungcheol about his feelings. It irked him that for the past 7 months they’ve been secretly seeing each other, Seungcheol couldn’t just communicate comfortably with him when all he wants is for this taboo relationship to work. He hated it when Seungcheol makes it obvious that he has a problem.

“Be honest, for once.” Jeonghan blurted.

They’ve had many petty fights before like any other couple and Jeonghan has won every single one. It didn’t bother Seungcheol that his other half was always right - but this time he couldn’t help but be hurt by those very words. Seungcheol put down his chopsticks calmly. It’s about 5 degrees tonight, but there was heat somewhere in this conversation.

“You know I’ve always been honest about my feelings to you.” Seungcheol spoke. He has always been the more open one - the clingy one. He was a Leo after all - showy, proud, and affectionate. He was always craving for attention and affection, and he hated it. As a maknae of his family, he grew up being tended to and being showered with love but now that he’s with someone like level-headed Jeonghan, he’s had to adjust.

“You always dodge when I try to confront you. This is why we fight all the time. Just tell me. Don’t you trust me?” Jeonghan nagged.

Jeonghan was the more logical and rational one. His persona may seem like he’s a guy with a lot of jokes and tricks up his sleeve but in relationships he is serious and careful. That doesn’t mean he was never loving towards Seungcheol, though. He’s extremely sweet and caring when it’s just the two of them. In fact, it was Jeonghan who initiated the first move to officiate their love physically in their hotel room in Japan last year. But all of this are swept under the rug by Seungcheol who craves public display of affection.

Don’t you trust me?

The words resonated in Seungcheol’s head for a few moments. He wanted to mull over the question for awhile, but seeing Jeonghan’s irate face in front of him, he didn’t really have much of a choice but to respond.

“Do you really love me?” Seungcheol tossed back a question in a respectful, genuine manner.

Jeonghan threw him a look which was a mix of surprise and insult.

“Are we really doing this right now?” Jeonghan threw back another question.

Neither one seemed to be interested in answering properly.

Seungcheol can already tell that Jeonghan’s irritation is exacerbating by the second. It hurt him whenever Jeonghan shows how irritated he is at him - which was almost all the time. Jeonghan had a slight temper to begin with, which he initially found sexy. But now, after so many hurtful words thrown at each other, it’s done nothing but bog down his pride and ego. He can almost see laser beams shooting out of Jeonghan’s eyes now. He knew he was pissed again because he just wanted a nice, quiet ramen date by the river and he had to bring up the “Do you love me” question again.

Seungcheol cracked a charming smile at his boyfriend and picked up his chopsticks.

“Jeonghan-ah. You know I love you. A lot.” he mumbled as he slurped his ramen noodles quickly. “But aren’t you tired of arguing with me? Aren’t you sick of being irritated with me?” he said pointedly at Jeonghan’s own angered face.

Jeonghan’s expression softened slightly. He picked up his cup noodles and resumed eating.

20 seconds. Your 20 seconds is here.

Seungcheol stared at the remaining noodles at the bottom of the styrofoam cup. “So maybe it would be better if we just went back to being friends.” he continued.

Jeonghan stopped chewing. He lifted his head to see if his boyfriend was pulling another lame, wrongly-timed joke on him. He looked severely calm and normal. He put his chopsticks back down again and crossed his arms.

“Is that what you’ve been trying to tell me? You wanted to break up?” he asked, his hair now being blown by a cold gust of wind.

Seungcheol nodded. “I think that would be better for the both of us, don’t you think? I mean, you’re mostly just cold towards me anyway -“

“When was I cold to you?!”

“Jeonghan don’t yell. You know what I’m talking about. I’m always the one chasing after you, clinging to you like a lovesick puppy. I never once felt that you’re proud to be with me.”

“We can’t be out and about Seungcheol you know that! We have to protect each other!”

“I understand that but-“

“No you don’t understand! Look if you want to break up that’s fine with me. I’m tired of your insecurities and your fragile masculinity. I’ve always loved you Seungcheol, you know that. Even when you’re so fucking annoying sometimes. That’s why I don’t want anyone or anything to ruin what we have. But sure, of course, I’m the bad guy here. I’m cold and distant and uncaring, right?”

“Would it really kill you to at least bring me to your home or introduce me to your friends?”

“Why is this such a pressuring obligation?”

“You know how guilty I feel sometimes? When I just try to hold your hand and you snatch it back or when I just want to sit next to you and you leave and it makes me so fucking guilty like I’d done something to disappoint or embarrass you.”

“You know fully well we can’t be found out by anyone. I thought we agreed to this right from the start. You had no problems at the beginning why are you suddenly like this?”

“Because I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of chasing. I’m tired of waiting for you.”

Jeonghan gritted his teeth from the cold. He could feel his eyes start to sting and moisten. This is the first time someone has broken up with him and it was, of all people, his bestfriend. He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re tired of me?” he said in an almost whimper, looking away from his first boyfriend.

“I never said that.” Seungcheol said quietly, looking at his now cold noodles.

“Fine. This is what you want? Let’s end it for good.” Jeonghan said in a hurried voice. He was fed up with his childish demands anyway. Seungcheol had these teenage romance ideals in a relationship while Jeonghan just wanted to be in a secure and mature one - something that didn’t need tending and close supervision.

Jeonghan stood up, ready to leave. It was near freezing and he didn’t like the general atmosphere of the evening. All he wanted was a nice date with his boyfriend since they haven’t spent time alone together in a week and this was what he got instead. Seungcheol has stood up as well, his nose and cheeks red from the cold. Jeonghan started walking first but stopped in his tracks to face Seungcheol, who was tailing behind him.

“You know what the problem is with you, Cheol? You’re so needy. You can’t pat yourself on the back or assure yourself like a normal human being. You’re constantly in need of care and you whine when you’re not pampered or given the slightest attention. Guess what? You’re a grown man. You’re not a baby. You’ve used up your maknae card long ago when you moved out of your family home, Cheol. Stop being needy.”

Jeonghan has never had an outburst like this before. He has never been this mad at someone in a long time. Seungcheol started back at him as if Jeonghan had mysteriously turned into someone else - someone he didn’t recognize. For some reason, Jeonghan waited for a counter attack from Seungcheol, who was always good with bickering. But he was only met with wide, hurt eyes. Another stinging gust of wind blew past, but it couldn’t cool down the tension between them now. After what almost seemed like forever, Seungcheol smiled. It wasn’t what Jeonghan was expecting at all. He expected another argument, an insult, hell he expected to be hit but not this.

“You’re right, Jeonghan.” was all he said through that small smile. “You’ve always been right.”

This aggravated Jeonghan even more. He hated being patronized, especially at a time like this. He turned away and marched forward, never looking back to see if Seungcheol ever went after him.

Jeonghan has been lying awake in his bed for hours now. He came back to the dorm alone, after storming off on Seungcheol. He deserved to hear those words, Jeonghan kept telling himself. He needs to grow up, he added. He doesn’t know what was keeping him awake: his flashbacks from their breakup hours ago or the fact that it was 2amand Seungcheol hasn’t returned to the dorm yet. He knew better than to call him, but he was worried where he might end up at this hour. And he tells me I’m uncaring, Jeonghan thought, rolling his eyes.

Eventually, he heard the faint sound of the front door opening. He sighed in relief. Mingyu and Jihoon were both already softly snoring in the room with him. These days, Seungcheol slept on the sofa in the living room with the manager since they played a lot of video games together. Jeonghan is weirded out why he’s anxious if Seungcheol will sleep in the room tonight. He heard his footsteps outside. He can recognize those footsteps anywhere. Slightly hastened, dragging the heel of each foot noisily. Jeonghan could now comfortably close his eyes and sleep in peace knowing that he’s safe back home.

The next morning, everyone was individually shuffling off to the Pledis building. Some had studio work to do, others had business to attend to in the office. For the rest of the members, it was just any other day. But for Jeonghan and Seungcheol, it was the first day of being just friends again. Though neither were particularly awkward with each other, neither were pleased about the new situation either. Some members were already rushing out the door while others took their time getting ready - like Jeonghan, who was always the slowpoke, Minghao who was looking for accessories to go with his outfit, Seokmin who was looking for snacks to bring, Seungkwan who was waiting for Seokmin, and Seungcheol who was nursing a hangover.

“Hyung, how much did you drink last night you look ugly.” Seungkwan frowned at Seungcheol, who looked like a dishevelled homeless man gulping huge amounts of water.

“You should’ve drank with me then I wouldn’t have consumed so much.” Seungcheol joked, wiping the dripping water from his mouth.

“Ey, you know I don’t like beer. Why didn’t you invite Jeonghan hyung?” Seungkwan asked.

Jeonghan, who was quietly eating behind them, perked up his ears.

“Jeonghan didn’t feel like being with me.” Seungcheol answered nonchalantly, as if it was a typical reply.

“As expected, the lazy bastard.” Seungkwan muttered under his breath.

“All of you finish quickly and go. I’m just going to shower. I’ll catch up with you later.” Seungcheol said as an afterthought, dragging his feet to the bathroom. Everyone did as they were told, except Jeonghan who chewed on his bread rather slowly this morning. He didn’t have an appetite. Minghao, Seokmin and Seungkwan were on their way out to the front door bringing parcels of food.

“Hyung, are you coming with us?” Minghao asked Jeonghan as he put on his shoes.

Jeonghan took another bite off his bread. “I’ll go after I finish this stale bread.” he replied lazily.

Back when they were at the beginning of their relationship, this was exactly what he would do in the morning so he and Seungcheol could have the dorm to themselves and have sex in the shower. With 13 members and 3 bathrooms, it was okay to shower together. They used to lock the front door after everyone has gone, run to the bathroom and get hot and heavy. Recently they haven’t been physically together - Jeonghan’s libido easily gets affected by stress and problems whereas Seungcheol’s was always on. It’s something Jeonghan has no control over but feels guilty about. Not that it matters anymore, now. Jeonghan had stayed behind because really had to force himself to eat after he was asked to bulk up by the management. He stared blankly ahead as the sound of Seungcheol taking a bath gave him unwanted flashbacks to their shower sessions. Never in his life did he imagine he would enjoy having sex with another man so much. He’s always thought he was only attracted to women all his life but when he fell in love with Seungcheol he realized there’s so much more to love than attraction.

“When did you start liking men?” he asked Seungcheol once, as they were snugly wrapped together in a blanket on Jeonghan’s bunk, bodies intertwined underneath. This was at the beginning of their relationship and everything felt new, foreign, and exciting.

“I don’t really like men in general, I just…happen to like you. Just you as a person. No other men.” Seungcheol whispered, his fingers delicately playing and twirling strands of Jeonghan’s hair.

“When did that happen exactly?” Jeonghan whispered back, the tip of his nose lightly touching the tip of Seungcheol’s.

“I don’t know, it just kind of grew over the years.”

“Me too.”

“Did it feel weird at first? To like me?” It was Seungcheol’s turn to ask.

Jeonghan nodded with a little bit of aegyo. “Whenever you talked near my face, I always had to repress the urge to kiss you. And I would weird myself out by looking at your ass.”

“So it’s purely sexual?”

Jeonghan frowned, his eyebrows meeting. “Of course not. I guess I started having feelings for you right after we debuted. I used to be so anxious, worried and unconfident with myself. Remember? You helped me overcome those.”

“I did?”

Jeonghan nodded again and pursed his lips. “You didn’t even realize it, did you?”

Seungcheol shook his head. Jeonghan smiled and kissed him, sliding his hand over the back of his head. It was a loving, warm, and wholesome kiss that Jeonghan liked to give when Seungcheol was being cute.

Jeonghan snapped out of his reminiscing trance when Seungcheol called his attention.

“Jeonghan I told you guys to go quickly.” Seungcheol asked sharply, drying his hair with a towel. This Seungcheol was a stark contrast to the Sungcheol in Jeonghan’s morning flashbacks.

“I’m just finishing this stale ass bread then I’m gone.” he replied as he stuffed the remaining bread into his mouth. He got up and put on his baseball cap.

Seungcheol sat on the floor to put on his shoes as Jeonghan stood by.

“Go ahead without me. I’ll catch up.” Seungcheol ordered as he tied his shoelaces without glancing at him once.

Seungcheol always wanted to walk to work with someone every morning - which was usually Jeonghan or Jihoon. He would sometimes even make them wait for him to finish up just so they could walk to the office together. Though the walk is short, they had a morning routine where they would discuss the plans for the entire day and talk about the dirty stuff that went on among Pledis employees while they buy iced coffee to go. This routine was sacred to Jeonghan, who values traditions and dislikes sudden changes.

“If you’re mad about what I said last-“ Jeonghan started but was almost immediately cut off.

“I’m not mad, Jeonghan. And I’d appreciate it if we don’t talk about that anymore. It’s done.” Seungcheol casually stated as he stood up to put on his coat.

“After you.” he added, letting Jeonghan go out the door first.

They walked several feet from each other, which wasn’t something they did even when they were still friends. Seungcheol had put on earphones, nodding his head and muttering lyrics while Jeonghan tried not to feel awkward walking to work with his ex who just broke up with him the previous night. As they approached the office building, Jeonghan went ahead to the cafe where they bought coffee every morning.

“Do you want latte or Americano?” he called out to Seungcheol, though Jeonghan knew Seungcheol would pick Americano as he always told him to get one for him on a daily basis.

“No thanks, I’m good.” he replied curtly and went ahead to the office entrance without him.

Jeonghan could only shake his head.

It started with small things. Like for instance, when Seungcheol would take a nap he would tell Mingyu to wake him up when before, he would always ask Jeonghan. Or when they ate out, he refused to sit on the vacant seat beside Jeonghan and went to the far side of the table instead. Or when their CEO wanted to take a pic of all 13 members with their arms around each other, Seungcheol didn’t put his around Jeonghan. Jeonghan noticed all these but was nonchalant about it. It’s not like it was such a noticeable and drastic change, anyway. He understood that the was dealing with their break-up differently and that in time, he and Seungcheol will eventually go back to how they were before.

But that wasn’t the case. Seungcheol was gradually, slowly, and tactically withdrawing himself away from Jeonghan as much as possible. He avoided being alone with him for more than 5 minutes. He didn’t ask him any more favors, aside from things that are work-related. He now completely ditched that morning routine that Jeonghan held so importantly. Though he would walk with him sometimes, Seungcheol would be meters away from him and not say a single word. During practice, Seungcheol would call out the mistakes of every member except Jeonghan’s. This wasn’t some kind of cold shoulder treatment either - he still talked to Jeonghan like he normally would. The difference is that it seemed to Jeonghan that they went from bestfriends to mere co-workers. Their late-night conversations about their future and goals have now been reduced to afternoon shallow banters. Most and worst of all, he would not touch Jeonghan with a 10-foot pole. They haven’t had any slight contact with each other’s skin in weeks, which was a feat since Seungcheol likes skinship so much with all the members. No more hugs. No more innocent clutching of hands. No more touching of hair. Not even a single high-five.

In the mornings, Seungcheol used to ask Jeonghan to wake him up and ask him to help him look for his clothes. Now, Seungcheol stays in the living room and sleeps in. This was actually a good thing for Jeonghan, as he hated when Seungcheol treated him like he was his mother. But what bugged Jeonghan the most lately was the fact that Seungcheol was still as playful with the members but not with him anymore.

“Jisoo-ah, you want to go out for a drink with me and Bumzu?” Seungcheol asked JIsoo one time.

“You know I hate the taste of alcohol.” JIsoo said, weirded out that he was even invited.

The usual drinking buddies were Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Everyone knew this. They were the only ones who could properly hold their alcohol like champs. Predictably, he’s never asked Jeonghan to go out for drinks again.

One time, Seungcheol came home late, face flushed and clearly under the influence. Jeonghan had stayed up late by chance and chanced upon him in the kitchen. Seungcheol was chugging down an entire pitcher of water by the fridge. Jeonghan was supposed to get a glass of water but that was out the window now. He crossed his arms at the intoxicated Seungcheol.

“Had fun?” He asked his ex.

Seungcheol took his time downing water before finally looking at Jeonghan. Jeonghan could see Seungcheol’s stubble subtly growing on his chin, water dripping carelessly off it.

“Yep.” was all Seungcheol said, before proceeding to the living room.

Jeonghan silently watched him take his shirt off in the dark, tossing it on the living room floor. He shook his head at Seungcheol’s untidy habit that never seemed to change. Even from the kitchen, he could see Seungcheol’s mole at the back of his neck. It was his favorite part of Seungcheol’s anatomy. He used to sneak up on him and kiss it. Seungcheol was extremely ticklish in the neck area and he would always recoil and double over whenever Jeonghan did it. Whenever they would spoon in bed, he always wanted Seungcheol to be the little spoon just so he could put his lips on that mole and nuzzle on it.

Seungcheol could feel Jeonghan’s gaze even in the dark. He wished for him to just go back to his room before he’d do something stupid. He was drunk, lonely, and vulnerable and Jeonghan just standing there staring at him made him want to do things he’d regret in the morning. Seungcheol plopped down on the couch, closing his eyes, shutting out the world.

Jeonghan walked past him, but stopped midway. “It could get cold later. Don’t you want to sleep in the room?” It was an innocent and genuine concern.

Seungcheol opened his eyes and turned to Jeonghan’s silhouette in the dark.

“I’m good. Goodnight.” he mumbled, before closing his eyes again.

Jeonghan took a while before responding. Up until that moment, Jeonghan has always been the one initiating the goodnight. Seungcheol was the chatty one, always wanting the conversation to go on until sunrise, while Jeonghan’s energy easily waned out. He would always be the one to end the conversation first and go to sleep. Even in their Kakaotalk chats, it was always Jeonghan who said goodnight first.

Where should we go tomorrow after practice? I’ve been craving bingsu.

Seungcheol-ah I’m tired. Let’s sleep. Goodnight.

“Goodnight.” Jeonghan said back in a low voice, even though Seungcheol was already snoring in the sofa.

Though Jeonghan wanted to find this sudden change childish and petty, he knew Seungcheol wasn’t doing anything wrong. He never ostracized Jeonghan, or made him feel out of place, or ignored him. He still acknowledged him, still treated him with respect, and still acted like a friend despite the aloofness. Technically, Seungcheol wasn’t being immature at all. As much as Jeonghan wanted to admit it, Seungcheol just wanted to drift apart. Though he’s been holding it in and denying it, Jeonghan found himself feeling hurt and rejected. Thoughts like maybe Seungcheol really didn’t care about him anymore or hated him now popped up from time to time in his head. But the thing that’s hurting Jeonghan the most is that he’s losing the best friend he’s ever had. He hasn’t felt this lonely since when he first came to Pledis. And back then he had Seungcheol and JIsoo. He decided to talk to Seungcheol once and for all because he couldn’t bear the thought of having to continue living like this in the next few years.

“Seungcheol.” he approached Seungcheol, who was busy playing a video game shirtless in the living room.

It was past midnight and the rest of the members are tucked away in their beds.

“What?” Seungcheol said absentmindedly.

“Let’s go out. I want to talk to you.”

Seungcheol tensely shifted his position on the sofa, not taking his eyes off the game. “About what?”

“Something important.”

“Jeonghan if you don’t-“

Before Seungcheol could finish his retort, Jeonghan grabbed him by the hand - their first physical contact in over a month.

“Ya!” Seungcheol exclaimed, reacting as if he burnt his hand.

“Please.” Jeonghan looked and sounded dead serious. There was no aegyo in his voice but it was a tone that always persuaded Seungcheol.

Seungcheol eyed him doubtfully for a few seconds before pausing his game and putting on a shirt.

They stood facing opposite each other in an empty hallway downstairs. The flourescent lights were dim but the silence assured them of privacy. Seungcheol’s gaze could mean two things to Jeonghan: one, he was undressing him with his eyes or two, he was mentally stabbing him for dragging him away from his game. Seungcheol tried not to look anxious - he did his best not to show how nervous he was what this talk was going to be about.

It’s a good thing Jeonghan didn’t waste time.

“Why are you doing this?” Jeonghan started strong.

“Huh?”

“Do you know how much it’s hurting me? By avoiding me like I have some kind of disease? When you broke up with me did you just expect us to be just colleagues and treat each other like we barely know each other?”

“What? Wait.” Seungcheol interjected, raising his hand. “Slow down. One question at a time.”

“Do you hate me that much? Just tell me straight up. Don’t go distancing yourself away from me-“

“Jeonghan, shut up for a second. I don’t hate you.” Seungcheol cut him off while walking towards him.

“Then WHY!? Didn’t you say we’ll be friends again?”

“We ARE friends!”

“No we’re not and don’t act like nothing has changed between us. You’re my best friend. You and Jisoo are the only ones I can talk to about my problems and I can’t talk to him about this. Please just tell me why.”

Seungcheol let out a heavy breath, trying to gather all the answers to Jeonghan’s sudden hard-hitting questions.

“Jeonghan. Weren’t you the one that complained that I constantly needed you? Weren’t you the one that implied that I’m too clingy and needed attention and wanted your affection too much? That I whine to you too much? Now you’re mad at me that I’m trying to change all that? I don’t get you at all. Please enlighten me because I’m so confused right now. What is it that you want me to do?”

Jeonghan started tearing up, his cheeks slowly showing a hint of red. Glistening tears streamed down like falling stars on his celestial face. Seungcheol hated it when Jeonghan cried. The man rarely shed tears. The last time Jeonghan cried in front of him was when he pranked him that he was quitting the group. He never cries over sad movies or touching moments but he was sensitive when it came to his friends.

Seungcheol put both his hands on Jeonghan’s face, wiping his tears away with his thumbs.

“Stop crying. Stop.” Seungcheol said, his voice now a little bit softer than before.

Jeonghan tried his best to suppress further tears, but they just kept coming. He missed Seungcheol. He missed his best friend. It felt like years since he was able to stand this close to him, to touch him, to smell him.

“I’ve been hurt too, Jeonghan. More than you probably know. And the way I react to pain is the same when I touch a hot surface. I retract. With you, I can’t completely detach from, you know. You’re still my best friend.” Seungcheol went back to leaning against the wall across Jeonghan.

“Best friend. Doesn’t feel like it.” Jeonghan uttered under his breath.

“Hey. I’m trying my best to get over you. It’s difficult maintaining a friendship with someone you’re still in love with.”

Jeonghan wiped his face and regained his composure. He sniffled and put his hands in his sweater pockets, as if the answers to their predicament were in there. He looked at Seungcheol, who was just staring back at him.

“I want us to get back together but it’s going to be a really difficult process.” Jeonghan said after a long exhale.

“It really will be.”

Jeonghan sighed again and closed his eyes, hoping that an easy answer will magically appear. Seungcheol searched for it as well, staring at the floor.

“Do you still want to be with me?” Seungcheol asked after a long period of silence.

“Of course I do, you dumbass.”

Seungcheol nodded. “We’ll have to work a few things out then.”

“A lot of things.” Jeonghan agreed.

“For now…” Seungcheol’s voice trailed off, unsure how he should complete his own thought.

But Jeonghan was courteous enough to finish it for him. “For now, kiss me.” Jeonghan said, in an almost demanding tone.

Seungcheol turned his head and looked at both his sides, as if cautious.

“There are CCTV cameras here, you know.” he said.

“I know.” Jeonghan replied impatiently.

Seungcheol carefully walked towards him, hands still in his pockets, mirroring Jeonghan’s posture.

“If I kiss you now, I won’t be able to stop.” Seungcheol said in a hushed tone, already eyeing Jeonghan’s lips.

Jeonghan looked at him longingly with his deep-set eyes, his lips already parting and quivering. Seungcheol’s face was now only inches away from his and there was a feeling of electricity and urgency in the space between them.

“Then don’t.” Jeonghan was whispering now.

Seungcheol buried his face into Jeonghan’s, almost knocking the wind out of the latter. Their teeth clinked against each other violently, both wanting to masticate the other in one amorous liplock. Jeonghan had his back against the wall and tried all his might not to lift himself up on Seungcheol and wrap his legs around his waist. Seungcheol’s hands were locked around Jeonghan’s thick neck while Jeonghan’s were fiercely clutching Seungcheol’s shirt.

It took all of their strength to pull away from each other’s mouths. Panting and hyperventilating from the adrenalin rush and their titillating kiss, Jeonghan lifted Seungcheol’s hand and kissed his knuckles.

“Stay beside me tonight.” Jeonghan said in his low voice, rubbing Seungcheol’s hand.

Seungcheol showed a tiny smile and hugged his bestfriend, wrapping his arms tightly around Jeonghan’s broad shoulders. Jeonghan returned the favor and interlocked his hands around Seungcheol’s waist. He closed his eyes and savored this very moment, imprinting it in his memory so he could go back to this point in time when difficult problems arise in the future.

“Let’s go back.” Jeonghan said after a while, and gave Seungcheol’s forehead a light kiss.

They both tucked themselves in Jeonghan’s bunk, facing each other. The rest of the dorm was sound asleep, a few snores resonated around the house. Jeonghan and Seungcheol stared at each other in the dark for the longest time, trying to etch each other’s face in each other’s memory. When they spoke, they spoke in whispers and hushed volumes that only two of them can hear.

“You have things you want and I have things I want.” Jeonghan breathed.

“Let’s try to meet halfway.” Seungcheol responded.

“Compromise?”

“Compromise.”

“It’s going to be difficult.”

“I know.”

“What if it becomes too difficult?”

“I don’t know. Will you break up with me again?”

“Let’s help each other out. Let’s try not to give up this time and if we’re going to fight, let’s not fight out of spite anymore and fight for us to become better for each other.”

“And let’s both put away our pride from time to time. This is new, unchartered territory for the both of us.

Seungcheol fiddled with Jeonghan’s fingers and kissed them ever so gently.

“I’m sorry it has to be this hard.” Seungcheol said.

“Sorry? This is literally what every couple goes through.” Jeonghan suppressed a giggle.

“We’re special.” Seungcheol murmured in between kissing Jeonghan’s fingertips.

Jeonghan stared and visually traced the outlines of Seungcheol’s face in the dark, a midnight blue shade blanketing over his features.

“You’re special.” Jeonghan said, sliding his hand down to where Seungcheol has been hard and stiff.

Seungcheol, in return, put his hand on the small of Jeonghan’s back, caressing it and reaching underneath the garter of his boxers, wiggling his fingers in.

Jeonghan let out a quiet, inaudible gasp as he felt Seungcheol’s tender fingers sliding in and out.

Seungcheol’s lower torso quivered as Jeonghan did the same to him, causing the hairs all over his body to stand on end.

“You know, make-up sex is a thing.” Jeonghan mouthed, his fingers rubbing and probing inside Seungcheol.

“Come to think of it, we never got the chance to at least have break-up sex either.” Seungcheol said as his fingers continued doing what they do best to Jeonghan’s behind.

Jeonghan squirmed as he felt Seungcheol push further in. He arched his back in surprise, almost letting out a loud moan.

“It’s almost 4am. Do you want to shower early?” Seungcheol whispered, thoroughly delighted at his partner’s response.

Jeonghan smiled and bit his lip. “Yeah. The kids won’t wake until 6. Let’s take our time.”

As they promised, upon reconciliation, they took their time and took it slow this time.

End.

#Seventeen #SVT #Seventeen Scenarios #Seventeen Imagines #Seventeen Fanfic #Seventeen One Shot #S.Coups #Seungcheol #Choi Seungcheol #Jeonghan #Yoon Jeonghan #Jeongcheol #Coupshan #Jeongcheol Fluff #Jeongcheol Angst #Jeongcheol Smut

How We Came To Be (Seek Verison)

Word Count : 1,154

Type: Chaptered [ I, II, III, IV , V, VI]

Characters: You x Seventeen bias

Note: The member was not specified but made with S.Coups, Jun, Hoshi, and Mingyu in mind.

Written by: Tita #2

Note:

Here’s the male version of How We Came To Be in his POV.

Please appreciate the discography of BTS especially non-title tracks consisting of sexy and emotional R&B beats:

Miss Right

Coffee

이불킥 Blanket Kick

좋아요 Like (Slow Jam Remix)

House of Cards

잡아줘 Hold Me Tight

그게 말이 돼 Does This Make Sense?

하루만 Just One Day

Chapter Six: HOW I CLEANED UP

♬ 그게 말이 돼 Does This Make Sense?

♬ 하루만 Just One Day

Cleaning myself up didn’t begin perfectly. Of course I promised to sort my emotions out, but starting from scratch was difficult. Sometimes I found myself bombarding her phone with text messages even though I know she would never answer any of them. She had turned her phone off. I wondered how she was. Was she in bad shape? Did she hate me? She was angry, that’s a given. But I did give her the right to hate me if I hurt her. As one last desperate attempt, I asked Joshua to personally hand her a letter I wrote. It wasn’t to convince her to take me back or forgive me. It was just to let her know that I was doing my best to be the person she wants me to be. To let her know that I was owning up to my mistakes.

I thought about her every day. Each time I woke up in the morning, there were two things I reminded myself about: One, that I had to be better today than yesterday and two, that somewhere she was happy without me. That’s the only way I could learn acceptance. And slowly, sure enough, I began to resolve my problematic emotions and thoughts. Gradually, I began to purge my incessant feelings of need to be with one or the other. One was happily married and one was healing just like I was. Just like I was told, I had to stand on my own two feet without needing someone to stabilize me. I was my own responsibility after all.

Being busy helped. People think that staying in bed and shutting the world out was an easy way to deal with heartbreak but it wasn’t. Keeping myself preoccupied with my passion was extremely helpful and therapeutic. I channeled my problems through lyrics. I released stress through dancing. I cleared my head through brainstorming and collaborating with my group members for new ideas and concepts. Career was still important to me in spite of my ongoing internal battle with demons. I used to think alcohol helped the healing process but being sober and productive was far more effective. Work was medicinal. And contrary to my previous belief, I wasn’t alone. I had my friends. I was more open to them this time. It wasn’t just about going to clubs and hooking up anymore. I communicated with them more, and they understood me better now than ever before. The first few months was difficult, but I put one foot after the other and kept going. I smiled and goofed around in public. For the cameras, for the fans - I had to put on a show. Like they all say, fake it ’til you make it.

It must’ve been almost a year since we broke up when I passed by her old building complex. I was driving through an alternate route and remembered she used to live in this neighborhood. I decided to have a look at her old apartment, for old times’ sake. I found out from the landlady that it still wasn’t rented. It’s been empty for more than 10 months now. To my surprise, she remembered me and let me go up. I used to come by almost every night after all.

I don’t know what I expected. It was an empty, dusty room. But it housed so much stories of us and I had to savor the feeling of being in there. This was where we first made love, I remembered as I walked through the spot where her bed used to be. This was where we had our first fight, I thought as I leaned against the door frame of her bedroom. The dent was still there where she threw a figurine and missed me by inches. I looked at the sooty window. I pinned her against that window, naked and sweaty. We didn’t care if neighbors from the other building saw us. I could still see the long thin crack on the glass when I repeatedly thrusted her against it. Good times. In the corner of the kitchen there was a small box. Inside it were all my belongings and some other small remnants of me. My headphones, my old toothbrush, a few shirts, and our polaroid photos. They were all covered in dust now.

It’s funny the way things work. Before, I was so desperate to forget what we had in order to move on. But now that I’ve learned to accept everything, I was okay with remembering it all. I took the box home with me and left that room with nothing but memories.

It’s been more than a year now. I wasn’t thinking about seeing someone new but if the opportunity presented itself, I wouldn’t say no. I would be careful this time. I would be more logical, more rational. I promised myself I would let go of my own Guinness world record of fucking up relationships. That shouldn’t be my title anymore that I’m older and wiser.

I walked home along the bustling streets of Hongdae, contemplating whether I should ask the members to go out or just enjoy my peaceful alone time. I looked up at the night sky, asking the universe for some sort of sign. Is it time to meet someone new or should I just stick to being alone until further notice? I jolted out of my brooding stupor when my phone rang. It was Seungkwan.

“What do you want?”

“Hyung, where are you? We’re hungry.”

“Looking for signs.”

“Huh?”

“Do you guys want to go out?”

“Actually we’re just hungry. Come home with food hehe.”

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “Ya, I was going to do that anyway you don’t need to remind me.”

I made a U-turn and mentally pinpointed where the nearest chicken feet restaurant was. They always went crazy for chicken feet.

“You’re the best.” Seungkwan exclaimed on the other line like the spoiled princess that he was.

“I’ll be home soon.” I said, and hung up.

There were so many parties going on in the vicinity tonight. A part of me envied them, but a part of me just wanted to spend time with my members at home. I owe them a lot. The streets were crowded and the air was crisp and cold. I put my hands in my coat pockets and hurried through the horde of teenagers huddled outside the array of clubs. The smell of cigarettes wafted through, reminding me of one particular night in my past. A girl bumped past me and I staggered a bit. I reluctantly whipped around to see if she was alright and saw that she had stumbled on the ground too. As I approached to help her up, a strange feeling came over me. A moment ago, I asked the universe for a sign.

What I got instead was an overwhelming sense of deja vu.

And that’s the end of How We Came To Be (Seek Version). We hope you all enjoyed it as much as we did! Thank you so much!!!

#Seventeen #SVT #Seventeen Scenarios #Seventeen Imagines #Seventeen Fanfic #Seventeen Angst #Seventeen Smut #S.Coups #Seungcheol #Jun #Junhui #Hoshi #Soonyoung #Mingyu #Story #Fanfic #How We Came To Be Seek Version

How We Came To Be (Seek Version)

Word Count : 2,528

Type: Chaptered [ I, II, III, IV , V]

Characters: You x Seventeen bias

Note: The member was not specified but made with S.Coups, Jun, Hoshi, and Mingyu in mind.

Written by: Tita #2

Note:

Here’s the male version of How We Came To Be in his POV.

Please appreciate the discography of BTS especially non-title tracks consisting of sexy and emotional R&B beats:

Miss Right

Coffee

이불킥 Blanket Kick

좋아요 Like (Slow Jam Remix)

House of Cards

잡아줘 Hold Me Tight

그게 말이 돼 Does This Make Sense?

하루만 Just One Day

Chapter Five: HOW I RUINED EVERYTHING

♬ House of Cards

♬ 잡아줘 Hold Me Tight

As much as I hoped to remember it in detail, everything that took place after I came home was but a foggy haze.

There were 3 key elements that highlighted my descent to madness.

First. Alcohol. It was the first thing I searched for. I wanted to consume monstrous amounts until I could no longer feel anything. And when I threw it all up, I would double my intake. In a matter of hours, I was intoxicated beyond comprehension. This is mainly the reason why I can’t recall much in the first place.

Second. Blood. My breakdown somehow took a violent turn and I ended up trashing our place. There were shards of glass everywhere. I had overturned pieces of furniture I didn’t even know I could lift. I was told I had also threatened every single one of my members that if they let my girlfriend know about this I would strangle them. In the kerfuffle that I created, I accidentally cut my hand with the broken glass. I only found out because there was red everywhere. It was all over the floor and on my clothes. The place looked like a crime scene and I couldn’t even feel a thing. And how I wished the numbness didn’t just take effect physically.

Third. Water. There was a storm the next morning. The rain slammed hard against all our windows. I had locked myself in the bathroom in an attempt to scour away the blood. Staying trapped there meant that I didn’t have to deal with reality. Within four walls, I found temporary sanctuary from everyone and everything. I didn’t want to face anyone; not my members, not my managers, and especially not my girlfriend. Despite my convincing threats earlier, they called her up and she showed up soaking wet. She ran through the rain to see me. I think I lost my marbles for a split second and almost killed Seungkwan.

I couldn’t possibly look her in the eye. Seeing her face made everything worse than it already is. As soon as I opened the door and saw how she looked at me, I knew that she already knew everything. She led me to the bedroom, my bloody hand in hers. There was absolutely nothing she could do to mend me. Not with band-aids and iodine. Not with her caring touch or her gentle words; I was, at this point, irreparable.

As she was opening a pack of band-aid, she broke the silence between us. “You weren’t completely honest with me.”

I didn’t dare respond. Anything I say could easily shatter what’s left of this house of cards of a relationship. She turned my hand over and slowly put a band-aid over another cut.

“I think I deserve the truth. And I want you to look me in the eye and give it. Understood?” she continued, taking the bloody tissue and preparing a new clean one.

I watched her neatly fold it and put it on my palm. The bleeding was less now. I still refused to answer. Her hands were unsteady and cold, and she handled me with such fragility like I was glass about to crack into pieces. Her fear was back again, and rightfully so. I was rupturing before her eyes, and she was about to get splintered in the most harrowing way. She applied pressure on my hand and looked me in the eye.

“Do you still love her?” she asked, though her question was more rhetorical than inquisitive.

Why was she making me answer? She knew the truth perfectly well. She knew it better than I did.

I raised my hand, in attempt to hold her face but she gently pushed it away. She waited, her eyes probing mine. I gave her a nod. She was right, she deserved the truth. Even if I tried to deflect it, I wouldn’t be able to. I could never bring myself to lie to her.

As if rehearsed, she nodded back at me. She expected that answer. Her lips started to quiver ever so subtly, and I knew it was the point of no return.

“Do you love me?” she had to ask.

“Yes.” I didn’t even think twice. There has been a lot of dishonesty on my part but this I was sure of.

She nodded again. She knew I was telling the truth. But the agony in her body language was undeniable now. Her gaze started to become apprehensive, her voice quaking as if there was a storm raging inside of her and she was mustering all she could to subdue it.

“Can you explain that?” she said, after clearing her throat.

You tell me. If I understood any of this at all, I wouldn’t have spiralled down the way I had. I was beyond my own control. See, even in that moment, even in front of her, all I could think about was the wedding. All my previous attempts to suppress forbidden thoughts of her came breaking the surface in full force. My demons were back. I thought I had successfully gotten rid of them but they were always there looming, waiting for me to be vulnerable. Even if I explained it to her, it wouldn’t make a difference. I broke my promise not to hurt her. That was all that mattered.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know either until I found out she was getting married. It just…resurfaced. It came out and I couldn’t contain it. I’m sorry.” I ran my hands roughly through my hair. How could I even begin to make her understand? The more she probed for answers from me, the more excruciating it will be for her.

“But…I really do love you. What I feel for you is real you have to believe me.”

She stood up and it dawned on me that this could be the last time I was going to see her. By the way she was towering over me and holding back tears, I knew she was done. I knew this was goodbye. Without thinking, I hugged her waist and put my face against her chest.

“I’m so sorry. Please, please. Forgive me. Don’t leave. I won’t be able to take it.” my pathetic pleas were muffled by her drenched shirt.

I could feel her crying now. Please, don’t cry. If you cry like that I’ll never be able to forgive myself, I screamed internally. I held her tighter.

“Let go.” she said flatly, in between her soft whimpers. If I let go then this would all be over. She would be gone for good. I know I was being selfish but I survived on the breath she was finished with. Without her, my life would be reduced to a black hole again.

She was sobbing hard now. I stood up and put my mouth on hers. I showered her lips with repetitive soft kisses the way I usually did when I wanted to make up after a fight. I could taste the tears streaming down her face. Kissing her like this made everything better but only temporarily. I slipped in my tongue and she returned the favor. She slid both her hands under my shirt and up my chest. Was she forgiving me? Was she taking me back? The intensity behind her kiss gave me a glimmer of hope. My heart raced against my ribcage. I ran my fingers through her damp hair, cradling and stroking her head as I bit her lips raw. Please don’t go, I thought as I sighed into her mouth. She kissed me like she’s never kissed before; like she’ll never kiss me again. Before I could take it further than a kiss, she pulled away abruptly, and I felt as if a part of my body detached itself. She caressed her lip with her fingers and looked at me longingly, like she was taking a mental picture of me; a last souvenir.

No.

She gave a sad smile, slowly backing farther and farther away from me.\

No.

New tears formed beneath her eyes, each drop for me. Almost choking on her stifled cries, she managed to speak one last time.

Please, no

“Goodbye.”

Then she raced out the door and out of my life.

Time seemed to stop. The storm continued to wreak havoc outside but to me, everything was on a standstill. I walked around in circles, rubbing my hands all over my face and on my head like a madman who just lost everything. I almost wanted to congratulate myself for doing the best job at losing women; at wrecking relationships. It’s a Guinness world record. I could feel the black hole forming now - bigger than ever before - and it was about to consume me whole. No one was going to pull me back this time. I was alone again. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be, you know? I had to deal with this alone. I was nobody’s obligation. If I asked someone to pull me out, I’ll only end up pulling them with me into the vacuum. I was a lone man drifting aimlessly into the void of space.

As soon as I sobered up, the first thing I wanted to do was call her. I needed to tell her the things I couldn’t say before. If I didn’t, I know I’d regret it for the rest of my life. Just one short conversation was enough to ease my mind and then I promised myself I would never reach out to her again. Of course my friends advised against it. They told me that it might make things worse, that I had to give myself time to straighten myself up before talking to anyone. It might take a long time before that happened, I thought. So I called her up anyway.

To my surprise, she answered.

“Hello?”

In spite of the lingering pain, I smiled. All I needed was that voice to give me some semblance of sanity.

“Hey.” I said.

She paused on the other line, probably to catch her breath or hesitate. I didn’t give her the time to scramble for words because I knew I had to be the one to speak first. It was only right - I was the one reaching out.

“Congratulations on your marriage.”

I heard her breathe loudly, as if she was trying to hide her sense of relief.

“Thank you. It’s been a while. How are you?” she asked in that dainty tone of voice I missed so much.

“Not so great. Uhm, are you free to speak right now?” I said, closing my eyes in prayer.

“Yeah. What’s this about? You can’t come to my wedding?”

I didn’t even know what I wanted to tell her first. I miss you. I still love you. I can’t bear to see you in a wedding dress. Even though I knew those words wouldn’t matter to her, I had to let her know somehow. But it was difficult for me to sound coherent, given my state. I blurted out whatever came to mind.

“My girlfriend broke up with me.” was what I said.

“Oh.” I didn’t blame her for feeling confused. Why the hell would she care?

“Is everything all right? What happened?” Her concern for me was always genuine. In the two years we’ve been together, I knew that for a fact.

“She left me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m still in love with you.”

Silence.

Was this the right decision? Did I make another mistake? Will she hang up and leave me with the biggest regret? Before things could turn for the worst, I explained. I began to tell her everything: How I got over her, how I fell in love again, and how everything resurfaced. I made sure not to leave out the important points; how I truly loved my girlfriend and how I hated myself for hurting her. She listened patiently. She was always a great listener. She hasn’t changed one bit. I made it clear that I didn’t want to ruin her marriage. That all I wanted was to get things out of my chest.

“I love you. If you’re happy, then that’s enough for me. But the news was just too much to take.” I told her.

She exhaled. “Listen. You hurt someone pretty bad. Someone who really cared about you. What you need to do now is sort yourself out before it happens again.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“Good. Spend time alone for a while. I know it’s hard but that’s the only way you’ll learn to let go properly.”

“I know.”

“How could you do that to her, seriously.”

“What I feel for her is real. My feelings were never forced.”

“You think love is a feeling?”

I paused for a moment. Was this a trick question? I could hear her frustration on the other end.

“Love is not a feeling. Feelings come and go. One day you feel something, the next day it’s replaced by a different feeling. Love is a decision. There’s a reason why priests ask the bride and groom ‘Will you love each other for better or worse, in sickness and in health’. Because love is not fleeting. It’s constant. It’s consistent. And to be consistent is a decision; a decision to sacrifice and risk getting hurt. Every act of love is a decision - just like her decision to be with you knowing you were still broken.”

I felt tears welling up. I knew that for a fact. I know what she was talking about, which is why I felt a massive sense of guilt.

“I do love her. I need her presence to get me through the day.”

“I understand that. But you have to distinguish the difference between needing and loving.”

In some ways, she was making me more confused but at the same time shedding new light on things I couldn’t comprehend before. My mind was muddled I was starting to feel my headache getting worse.

“And how do I distinguish that?” I asked, just to keep the conversation going.

“Fix yourself first. If you still ‘need’ her after you’ve transformed yourself into a better and happier version of yourself, then that means you really love her.”

“What if she won’t want me back?”

“Accept it and move on. Just like you should’ve done when we broke up.”

I had to laugh at my own expense. She made the most sense, and yet I still refused to acknowledge that I only needed her because I was broken. Her happiness was important to me. Wasn’t that love? I had to stop overthinking before I drove myself further and further into the brink of insanity.

“Thank you for listening to me.” I said.

“Take care of yourself. I mean it.”

“I will. And I’m sorry I won’t be able to come on your wedding day. You know why.”

“It’s fine. Make the right choices next time.”

“Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

We both hung up and I knew that would be the last I’d hear from her. Now that I got that out of my chest, I doubled over and broke down.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventee fanfic #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #s.coups #seungcheol #jun #junhui #hoshi #soonyoung #mingyu #story #fanfic #how we came to be seek version

How We Came To Be (Seek Version)

Word Count : 1,631

Type: Chaptered [ I, II, III, IV ]

Characters: You x Seventeen bias

Note: The member was not specified but made with S.Coups, Jun, Hoshi, and Mingyu in mind.

Written by: Tita #2

Note:

Here’s the male version of How We Came To Be in his POV.

Please appreciate the discography of BTS especially non-title tracks consisting of sexy and emotional R&B beats:

Miss Right

Coffee

이불킥 Blanket Kick

좋아요 Like (Slow Jam Remix)

House of Cards

잡아줘 Hold Me Tight

그게 말이 돼 Does This Make Sense?

하루만 Just One Day

Chapter Four: HOW SHE TOOK A CHANCE

♬ 좋아요 Like (Slow Jam Remix)

The one thing I won’t ever forget about her is her boldness. I saw how reluctant she was at the beginning. And that’s good, because that meant she was a smart woman. Her hesitance proved that she had a good head on her shoulders. And that, to me, was the most attractive thing in the world. She wasn’t one to jump into situations without weighing the odds. To be with me was a huge risk. First, I was a foreigner to her. Second, I was a celebrity. Third, she met me during my worst stage. She had all the reasons to reject me. She could have easily hid how she really felt and avoided me but she didn’t. She took a chance. And I thought that was the boldest act of love anyone could have ever shown me.

“Tell me something.” she said, as she helped me stretch in the practice room.

“What is it?” I grunted after she pulled my arms from the back.

“What do I get to do to you if you hurt me?” she asked, making a face.

“You can talk shit about me to everyone you know?”

“What else?”

“Hmm.”

“Can I publish your nude pics?”

I whipped around to cover her mouth. The members weren’t close by but they were in the same room, lounging around.

“Shh!” I hissed.

“I don’t even have nude pics of you.” she hissed back, moving my hand away.

“Yeah but I was gonna send you.”

“Ugh no thanks. I’ll publish our couple photos but censor my face. Then your career will be ruined.”

I sighed in surrender and hung my head low. “Alright, you can ruin my career.”

She looked at me sternly for a few seconds then lazily punched me in the chest.

“Idiot. Of course I would never do that.” she laughed.

“Ooh I got an idea. Look in the mirror.” I exclaimed, and turned her to face the mirror.

“If I hurt you, you can find a guy that’s more good looking than me.” I pointed at my reflection.

She scowled and turned to me. “That should be easy then.”

I frowned at her and she laughed like the lunatic she was.

There was no formal or official arrangement that marked the start of our relationship. There was no “Yes, let’s date” or “I’ll be your girlfriend”. We just both knew that we were starting something new. In public, I would hold her hand. She would come visit me every day at our building. When we were alone, there would be a lot of kissing. Some nights, after a schedule, I’d go to her place and she’d make me dinner. On one of those nights, we slept together for the first time. I guess that would be the closest thing to an “official arrangement” we had.

Making love with her was like art. It was never rushed and it was always driven by passion. Every single time was a different euphoric experience. Just when I think I’d know her next move, she’d surprise me. Every day I slept with dozens of women. And they were all her.

One night, I had a hard time sleeping. My body clock was different from hers. She had a normal one, and mine was conditioned to only sleep for short periods at a given time. I traced the outline of her naked body with my finger, careful not to wake her up. She was luminescent in the dark. I caressed her hair, and kissed her bare shoulder, all the while thinking of more ways to keep her happy. But as I lay there, I couldn’t help but think about her again.

Flat on my back, I stared at the ceiling, letting out an exasperated breath. I was irked by the fact that somehow, she snaked her way into my thoughts again. I tried closing my eyes but all I saw was her beautiful face. More and more questions kept popping up. What was she doing right now. Is she alright. Was her boyfriend treating her right. Did she still think about me. Just a bunch of questions out of curiosity.

I unconsciously grabbed my phone and went through my phonebook. Why was I scrolling for her number? I stared at her name on the screen for what seemed like forever, my thumb ready to make a move any time now. Why was I longing to know where she was right now? I wanted to slap myself for entertaining my own thoughts. My own mind was betraying me and I had to get rid of the thoughts of her fast. I turned to the woman sleeping beside me and tried to marvel at her existence.

“Noona.” I whispered.

She was fast asleep. If I don’t distract myself I’d get lost again. And I was prone to overthinking especially at the hours of dawn.

I kissed her neck and rubbed her back.

Does her new boyfriend kiss her like this?

I pulled her body closer to mine, and finally, her eyes fluttered open. “Hmm?”

“Let’s do it.” I said, and kissed her deeply.

Does he taste better than I do?

“You wanna fuck right now?” she groaned.

Does she talk dirty to him like she used to with me?

“Yes, please.” I breathed, a trace of desperation in my tone.

She climbed on top of me in her favorite cowgirl position. And just like that, I was inside her. She latched herself so comfortably onto me as if my body was just an extension of hers. She was so good at that. I kept my eyes on her, internally screaming at my brain to focus on my naked girlfriend, and nobody else.

Does she miss me at all?

I grabbed the small of her back to get her going. Please, just please get me out of my own thoughts, I silently pleaded. Thankfully, by the grace of the cosmos, the thoughts dispersed into oblivion when she bit my lip and whispered unholy things in my ear. I snapped out of it in a heartbeat. I was here again. I was back. And she hadn’t even started yet.

It wasn’t always like that. In fact, it rarely happened and when I feel like it’s about to, I try my best to get rid of it. I was still in the process of healing but it didn’t mean that I didn’t love my girlfriend. The brunt of our problems was actually our petty fights that always seemed to snowball into huge ones. We were always screaming at each other. She always complained about my mood swings. She threatened once or twice about breaking up, and I knew she was serious about it. So of course I had to prove to her how much I loved her to make her stay.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Just like any other relationship, ours wasn’t perfect. It was flawed from the beginning, and even my friends were against it. They didn’t trust me, and to be honest, I didn’t trust myself either. But I was crazy for this girl. It’s hard to explain what I felt for her. I was a mess inside, yes, but she did a good job of housekeeping me. She changed me in ways I couldn’t change myself.

“I used to hate coffee.” I told her as I drove her home, sipping on iced Americano.

She looked at me funny from the passenger seat. “Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Suddenly you like it.”

“Because you like it so much.”

“It’s actually good for your health.”

“If I were coffee what coffee would I be?”

One of our favorite things was asking each other juvenile questions - questions only kids would come up with. She took a quick sip from her own Starbucks cup and knit her eyebrows.

“Latte.” she answered.

“Why?”

“Cause I love latte. Latte is my favorite.”

I smiled even as I kept my eyes on the road.

“What about me? What coffee would I be?” she returned the question.

The traffic light blinked red and as I stepped on the brakes, I scanned my memory for various kinds of coffee.

“Hmm. You are Toffee Nut Latte.”

Her eyes widened in delight. “Why?”

I looked her dead in the eye. “Because you’re just flavor of the month.”

She hit me in the arm, her mouth gaping in appal. “Ya! You asshole.”

I laughed impishly, amused at my own joke.

“You are Americano. Because you are strong and badass. You get straight down to business.”

“Okay I like that better.”

“And also because I need you every day now.”

She went home happy that night. It’s one of the regular, simple days that we enjoyed so much. When my schedule was packed, I couldn’t even get to call her. Days like this one was a blessing already. I went back to the dorm that night feeling chipper and satisfied.

“Bro, look what came in the mail for us.” one of my members approached me as soon as I came in.

“What, am I paying the water bill again this time?” I scowled, taking off my shoes.

“No, it’s Yejin. She’s getting married. Can you believe it?”

I felt an icy coldness spread all over my body in an instant. It was like being hit on the head by a gigantic block of ice and not being able to move a muscle to avoid it. I froze there, a sickening twinge of numbness consuming my extremities all at once. My vision narrowed into black and white slits. I stared at the white, lacy card in his hand. In a span of a few mere seconds, two devastating realizations came upon me:

My ex-girlfriend was getting married and I was still in love with her.

#Seventeen #SVT #Seventeen Scenarios #Seventen Imagines #Seventeen Fanfic #Seventeen angst #Seventeen Smut #S.Coups #Seungheol #Jun #Junhui #Hoshi #Soonyoung #Mingyu #Story #Fanfic #How We Came To Be Seek Version

How We Came To Be (Seek Version)

Word Count : 1,928

Type: Chaptered [ I, II, III ]

Characters: You x Seventeen bias

Note: The member was not specified but made with S.Coups, Jun, Hoshi, and Mingyu in mind.

Written by: Tita #2

Note:

Here’s the male version of How We Came To Be in his POV.

Please appreciate the discography of BTS especially non-title tracks consisting of sexy and emotional R&B beats:

Miss Right

Coffee

이불킥 Blanket Kick

좋아요 Like (Slow Jam Remix)

House of Cards

잡아줘 Hold Me Tight

그게 말이 돼 Does This Make Sense?

하루만 Just One Day

Chapter Three: HOW I TOOK A CHANCE

♬ 이불킥 (Blanket Kick) - BTS

If I were to put blame on one thing that started all the mess that was about to transpire, it was my selfishness. I was selfish. I couldn’t just let her slip away from me. I wanted her all to myself. I had to have her by my side. I needed her. The thought of her being with someone else made me want to do unthinkable things. I didn’t want some other guy making her happy. That was my role. Her smile was mine and mine alone. And I refused to let her become someone else’s happiness.

Her absence made me realize I was more incomplete than I previously was before she came. She slowly and patiently put me back together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and she decided to leave me unfinished. Not that it was her obligation to solve me, but she was the only one who seemed to make me feel whole again. But it wasn’t just about that. There was certainly something more behind my needs.

When I found out from friends she started going out with someone, I felt a sickening pang of jealousy and possessiveness. It took all my strength and rationality not march over to her place and tell her I didn’t like him, even though I haven’t met the guy and haven’t even spoken to her in a while.

“You need to control yourself. You’re not her boyfriend, you’ve no right to forbid her to date someone she likes.” one of my managers tried talking some sense into me. But sense was the last thing I had that time.

“She doesn’t like him.”

My manager laughed like it was the funniest joke I’ve cracked.

“Ya, you’re talking like a crazy person now. Did you bump your head or something?” he taunted.

“Believe me, she doesn’t like him. I just know it.”

I had no idea why I was so sure of myself, either. Maybe, somehow, I knew how she felt about me. There was always something in the way she looked at me. The way she sometimes waited for my gaze to meet hers and how she hung on to every last word I said. When she smiled at me, it always seemed to linger on her lips; as if she had a small secret about me that only she knew.

So without really thinking, I went to her after weeks of not seeing each other. I didn’t have a plan in mind, I just had to see her. I caught her at the right time too; she just came home from a date. And the way her eyes lit up when she saw me only proved me right; she had no interest in that guy. I could tell she was thoroughly surprised by my sudden appearance, and there was no denying she was avoiding me.

“You’re a really bad liar, noona.” I told her, after she tried averting and evading my questions.

Despite her reluctance and protests, I was able to finally get to talk to her privately. Over tiny cups of tea and under a dim ambiance, I told her everything. I told her that she was right about me. That I couldn’t let go of the past and projected my need for control to her. That I was suppressing feelings I shouldn’t. And ultimately, that I didn’t like her avoiding me like the plague. I studied her expression as I told her every bit. Her hand was in mine, our fingers intertwined. It felt so natural and effortless, I didn’t even notice how it happened. But her face told me she was holding back. It was as if she was afraid of breaking something; like I was a fragile little thing she had to refrain from handling. It was the opposite of what I wanted - I wanted her handling. I had to loosen her up and shake off whatever fear she had instilled in herself.

“Why don’t we release some stress?” I suggested.

Thanks to my impulsive idea, we found ourselves in a noraebang shedding our inhibitions and obliterating the wall built between us during the past few weeks. It was good to spend time with her again after so long, and I was glad to see that her spark was still very much there despite her withdrawn disposition. I watched her scream her lungs out, jump up and down, and throw all poise out the door. She was exactly how I always saw her. Until she sang That Woman.

Everything stood still. In my perspective, at least. I stood there, immobile, my eyes peeled for her and her alone. A familiar and at the same time foreign feeling came over me and sent tiny shocks across my body. Pulsating, throbbing and beating. As I watched her eyes start to glisten, I watched my whole life pinpoint to this moment as well. The line between my past and present blurred, and nothing else - other than this moment - mattered. There was something about her baring her soul that triggered something in me, like an alarm rousing me from a pointless dream to a staggering reality. Everything stood still, alright. But there was chaos in my chest and I knew what it was. It was unmistakable: I was in love.

I didn’t realize that I had stepped closer to her, holding her face centimeters away from mine. For what seemed like a nanosecond of infinity, she read through me before hesitating and backing away.

“I’m okay.” she stuttered and looked off into the distance, but unable to hide the shade of crimson on her cheeks.

“Hold on.” I said in a trance-like manner, pulling her even closer.

There was no turning back now. Hours ago, I was unsure of what I wanted. I was driven by emotions and my logic was hazy. But now, standing in front of her like that, my mind was clear as day. I inched ever so slowly closer to her face until the tip of our noses touched. Until I could count the tiny teardrops on her lashes. Then I kissed her. Gently and softly at first, then hungrily and greedily. The next thing I knew I had pinned her against the wall, uttering her name from my lips to hers. Why hadn’t I done this sooner? I thought to myself. The closest description I could give of our first kiss is that it was like an oasis. I didn’t know just how parched I was until she quenched it. The best part was she was reciprocating the same intensity I had. We were obviously on the same page. Just as I was about to go further she backed away, her parted lips still swollen.

“We shouldn’t do this.” she breathed, raising her hand and covering her lip with the back of her palm.

I half expected her to say that. The fear she had been harboring all night long since we were at the cafe, it was still evident. I felt it dissipate when we were kissing, though. The way her body vibrated and quivered under my touch gave it away. For a brief moment during that kiss, she surrendered herself to me and I swear I could’ve swallowed her whole.

“Come on, let’s go home.” she said quietly, holding my hand.

I could hear her loud and clear in the stiff silence that ensued on our drive home. I told her that it was going to be alright. I told her how important she was to me.

“Remember when I told you don’t use a poor girl to forget her? Don’t let me be that poor girl.” she said, the wind blowing through her hair.

She’s told me a dozen times before how it was okay for me to hook up with different girls to get over the heartbreak but never use them as emotional garbage bins. A strong man doesn’t ask girls to carry his baggage, she always said.

“Noona you know I would never do that to you.”

“Neither of us knows that. Sometimes we don’t know what we’re capable of.”

“Well I know what I’m not capable of. And that’s hurting you.”

Even after I had dropped her home and after I plunged myself onto my bed, all I could think about was that kiss. She left a trace of tingling sensation on my tongue and I wondered if she felt it on hers too. I held my phone in front of my face and mulled over whether I should text her or not. And for the next 30 minutes or so, I found myself editing one simple text message over and over again.

Noona, goodnight and see you tomorrow.

No.

Noona, sweet dreams. Dream of me.

Disgusting.

Noona, sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite.

I wanted to kill myself.

I exhaled loudly. Why are noonas so hard to pursue? What exactly was their taste? Should I act more mature? Should I have more aegyo? Now that we’ve shared a kiss and now that I showed my interest in her, I couldn’t just treat her like any other friend. Girls want to be treated special and they wanted to see effort. Fuck it, I said. I’ll just be myself. I pressed backspace and started typing earnestly.

Can’t wait to kiss you again. Goodnight.

I tossed my phone aside and buried my face into my pillow like a high school boy. I was slightly embarrassed of myself for feeling so…young. I’ve been with noonas before but no one like her. She was from a different culture, had a different background and spoke a different language. Those factors alone made us out of each other’s league. But I wanted her, and if i had to jump over leagues just to get to hers, I’d do it. Just then, my phone beeped.

She was still awake.

You better sleep then, cause that will be in your dreams. ㅋㅋ

I crinkled my nose and started pounding my fingers on the screen.

Noona stop hurting me.

I can imagine her scoffing at her phone screen right after I sent it. I smiled inwardly.

Kid, I’m kind of dating someone. You saw him, right?

I huffed in disbelief. She wanted to use that card, I see.

Oh right. I forgot. With the way you were kissing me a while ago, I think you forgot too.

It took her a while to respond to that one. She thinks I don’t know her. She was as readable as a billboard and I know for a fact that that guy didn’t stand a chance. She couldn’t use him as an excuse.

You’re making it really hard for me now.

I pursed my lips and stared at her message for a while. It was 4am and I was enveloped in darkness, illuminated only by the light emanating from my phone. What would become of us at the end of this conversation? I tapped on the keys with conviction.

Be with me, and it doesn’t have to be.

I pressed send. I hope it didn’t sound like I was pressuring her. That was the last thing I wanted. I just wanted her to stay, to stop running away from what we both knew for a fact was inevitable.

We’ll see. Get some sleep. Goodnight.

I took that as a good sign, at least. These were things better discussed face to face and in daylight.

Sleep well, noona.

I kicked my blanket in giddy delight and slept with a smile stretched across my face.

#Seventeen #SVT #Seventeen Imangines #Seventeen Scenarios #Seventeen Fanfic #S.Coups #Seungcheol #Jun #Junhui #Hoshi #Soonyoung #Mingyu #Story #Fanfic #How We Came To Be Seek Version

How We Came To Be (Seek Version)

Word Count : 1,793

Type: Chaptered [ I, II, III ]

Characters: You x Seventeen bias

Note: The member was not specified but made with S.Coups, Jun, Hoshi, and Mingyu in mind.

Written by: Tita #2

Note:

Here’s the male version of How We Came To Be in his POV.

Read the first version first!

Please appreciate the discography of BTS especially non-title tracks consisting of sexy and emotional R&B beats:

Miss Right

Coffee

이불킥 Blanket Kick

좋아요 Like (Slow Jam Remix)

House of Cards

잡아줘 Hold Me Tight

그게 말이 돼 Does This Make Sense?

하루만 Just One Day

Chapter Two: HOW I FOUND HAPPINESS AGAIN

♬ Coffee - BTS

I know I said I wasn’t a creep, and I know for a fact that I’m far from that. But when I looked for her I.D. and got her address, I saved her contact number.

I knew she was too out of it to remember how she got home, so I wanted to make sure that she knew she had a hero that night. I didn’t have any other agenda other than that. I guess I just wanted her to know we met. She intrigued me, but I wasn’t planning on pursuing her. Like I said, that night was different and she wasn’t like the other girls I met.

“Where’d you disappear to last night, man?” one of the members asked me the next day.

“Took a girl home.” I replied, as I sent another text to her. Thankfully she didn’t think I was a weirdo.

“Nice.”

“No, it’s not like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I literally just took her to her place. She was passed out the whole time.”

“Wait so why are you texting her then?”

“I got her number.”

He shook his head in amazement. “I don’t know how you do it, bro.”

In some warped turn of events, we became instant friends, she and I. She was a foreigner, and didn’t speak my language well but with every spelling and grammar mistake she did, I grew fonder and fonder of her. We started going on friendly dates and hung out with my members as if she was a part of my inner circle. They gladly accepted her, because they knew that with her in the picture, I was happy again.

How did she make me happy? I didn’t know exactly what her magic was. She didn’t have an ethereal aura about her that made me fall for my ex girlfriend. She didn’t have a classic, traditional beauty that I preferred. But she was beautiful in her own command. When she smiled, it was radiant. When she laughed, it’s all I wanted to hear. She was so immensely happy-go-lucky that it made me, a broken and lovesick moron, happy. But I wasn’t ready to fall for her just yet; not when I still relapse and feel the pain creep back in from time to time.

I made sure she knew about everything I was going through. I had to. Countless times she would catch me staring a thousand yards away in the middle of a conversation because she would say or do something that reminded me of her. It would only be fair to her to know the reason behind that. But she always had a way of bringing me back to the present. She knew tricks on how to distract me from remembering and I hated that. I hated how uncomfortable I made her feel and how she had to adjust just so I wouldn’t shut down. So I tried to be better at being her friend.

“Noona. Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” I asked her one time, as we were lazily looking through vintage collections at a kitschy vinyl record shop. She liked going to places like that. Not even to buy but just to look around and listen to old songs for free.

“I just have pretty high standards.” she said, scanning the jazz section.

“Like what?” I cocked my head to the side.

“I have an actual list.”

“A list?”

“Yeah. I wrote down the things I want in a boyfriend, specifically.”

“Okay…like what?”

“Like…he has to have a good relationship with his parents. He has to be able to tell old man jokes in a funny way. He has to be fun to go shopping with. And he has to be able to dance with me. Like, slow dance with me. The romantic way.”

“That’s an awful lot.”

“That’s not even half of it.”

“You’re gonna die single if you keep a list that long.”

“Why can’t women have standards? Is it that bad to want someone worthy of my love?”

“Just because a guy can’t enjoy shopping doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve your love. That’s kind of harsh.”

“Yeah well tough luck.”

“So let’s say a guy almost crosses everything off that list, but missed one…just one tiny thing! He’s not it?”

She paused for awhile and put the Frank Sinatra vinyl back in its pile. “No.”

“What?!”

“Look, I don’t like being judged for my preferences in men.” she snapped.

“You’re never going to get married if you’re like that.”

“That’s not really your problem, is it?”

She huffed and turned her back to me. Clearly I had upset her. Now she would kill me if I had admitted this but I almost liked seeing her get all riled up like that. To me, it was endearing and cute. There are girls whose tempers scare you away or piss you off. Not this one, though. She was older than me but I always felt an urge to coddle and baby her whenever she got that way with me. As she was probably fuming away her agitation, I put on Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong’s The Nearness Of You on the antique record player. That scratchy, hollow sound of bass was unmistakable; this was classic, romantic jazz.

She let out a small gasp of surprise when I reached for her hand and reeled her in to me. As I put her arms around my nape and held her waist, her confused eyes searched my face for an explanation.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, looking around to see if people were staring. There was nobody else in that record shop besides us and the old man at the counter, who was fast asleep.

“Dancing with you.” I simply said.

“You’re crazy.”

I held her waist tighter and pulled her closer to my body so that she couldn’t writhe her way out.

“Just let me cross off one thing from that list.” I told her and gently swayed her from side to side the way my mother and father used to in the living room when I was young.

She blinked a few times at me before breaking out in fits of giggles while shaking her head. And just like that, she was smiling again.

I guess you could say it all started at that one small thing: I found joy in seeing her happy.

♬ It's not the pale moon that excites me

That, to me, was a sign that I had leaped forward. I wasn’t in a downward spiral anymore.

That thrills and delights me, oh no ♬

I found a new purpose and that was to keep making her happy; to be in her company.

♬ It's just the nearness of you ♬

I had a knack for giving her surprises like that, sometimes inadvertently humiliating her in the process. She would tell me that if I continued my streak of ‘surprise-embarrassing’ her she would go to one of my fansign events unannounced and cause a scene. I’d tell her that it didn’t scare me. In fact, I’d even play along with her and tell the fans she was my girlfriend.

“Once they start attacking you, joke’s on you.” I said.

“That must suck, to be your girlfriend.” she rolled her eyes.

“I’ll have you know that I’m a pretty good boyfriend.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Wanna date?”

Then she would scoff and playfully slap me.

I didn’t notice it at first, but I was slowly beginning to treat her as if she was my girlfriend. From the get-go there was never an intention like that. I didn’t think I was ready to open up again just yet. I knew I had developed some feelings for her by this time but I didn’t want to force myself into something I wasn’t sure about. Whatever I did, whatever I said - they all came out of me naturally. There were no pretensions. I have no idea at what point I started to fall in love with her but it seemed to reflect on my actions. We even had a big fight about it. She told me I was controlling, that I couldn’t let go of my past. That I have seemed to project my need to change my past onto her. In some ways, she was right.

“I just miss her so much.” I admitted, feeling defeated and hopeless once again.

I did still miss her.

I did still think about her.

I did still have a hard time letting go.

“But it’s different when she’s around. I forget everything when I’m with her.” I told Seungkwan one day.

“Then you should’ve told her that. All she knows now is you still miss your ex and you just look at her as some replacement.” he pointed out.

I heaved a sigh. “I can’t just tell her that. I like what we have. I don’t want to say something that might change it. I definitely feel something for her, but it’s not the right time to let her know about it. Not when I’m still fucking confused.”

“I understand, hyung. But think how confused she is right now too. You’re sending her mixed signals. It’s either treat her like a friend or let her know she’s more than that. Just how strong do you feel about her anyway?”

I thought hard about it and shook my head. I really didn’t know. And a big part of me refused to confront it. If I addressed it, she’d become entangled in the mess that I am. I decided to just continue with the semblance of a friendship that we had. Platonic, innocent, uncomplicated.

The problem was, she started avoiding me. She began dodging my calls, ignoring my texts and declining to even see me. Slowly, she became elusive and withdrawn.

“It’s probably for the best. Didn’t you say you didn’t want her getting involved with your predicament? Maybe she doesn’t want to get involved too that’s why she’s avoiding you.” my members said.

“Yeah maybe this is good. Give each other space and maybe avoid hurting her.”

I knew they were right, of course. In hindsight, it really was a good idea to just let her walk away and forget about making her a part of my convoluted life. She’d meet someone better, and I’d continue where I left off.

But why didn’t I feel good? Why was I holding on to her so much?

The death of a star in the cosmos best described her absence; a star burns bright for what seems like an eternity until it slowly dims, explodes, and collapses into a black hole. What once gave me light was now fading until it could burn no longer, and my happiness was no more.

#Seventeen #Seventeen Scenarios #Seventeen Imagines #Seventeen Fanfic #Seventeen Angst #S.Coups #Seungcheol #Jun #Junhui #Hoshi #Soonyoung #Mingyu #Story #Fanfic #How We Came To Be Seek Version

How We Came To Be (Seek Version)

Word Count : 1,098

Type: Chaptered [ I, II, III ]

Characters: You x Seventeen bias

Note: The member was not specified but made with S.Coups, Jun, Hoshi, and Mingyu in mind.

Written by: Tita #2

Note:

Here’s the male version of How We Came To Be in his POV.

Read the first version first!

Please appreciate the discography of BTS especially non-title tracks consisting of sexy and emotional R&B beats:

Miss Right

Coffee

이불킥 Blanket Kick

좋아요 Like (Slow Jam Remix)

House of Cards

잡아줘 Hold Me Tight

그게 말이 돼 Does This Make Sense?

하루만 Just One Day

Chapter One: HOW I STARTED TO FORGET

♬ Miss Right

It feels like drowning. When you get your heart broken for the first time, it feels like drowning. Like swimming against a current so strong you can barely break the surface of the water. Everybody kept telling me that it was going to be rough but I didn’t expect it to last so long. It had been a few months since she broke up with me but the wound she left was still festering like a throbbing infection. And believe me; I’ve done a lot to quicken the pace of healing. I slept with different girls. I went out every night. I drank. The usual moving on tactics. But I just couldn’t seem to accept the fact that we were through. I guess, until, that one fateful night.

The members took me out again to the usual club we’ve been going to for the past weeks. I almost refused because it started to bore me. The same crowd, the same drinks, the same type of music. It was the same every damn week. But I weighed my options: would I rather think about her alone at the dorm until I decay into my own self-loathing or think about her while getting drunk? Of course I chose the latter.

It turns out, that night didn’t go the way I had expected it to. It’s funny how in one random instance, everything in your life could dramatically shift; how a night of having one too many drinks can lead to some sort of mental and emotional sobriety.

I was buzzed as hell, so I had excused myself from the group to go to the bathroom and check how plastered I was. I got in and locked myself in a cubicle, burying my burning hot face in my hands. I wanted to pass out so I could just get this night over with. I wanted to sleep so I could avoid thinking about her and drunk calling her. I wanted to breathe. I wanted some air. Before I could even move, I heard someone clamoring past the door, slamming it shut and vomiting in a nearby toilet. I visibly cringed.

I hurried out the cubicle to find out the door was locked. As I tried to unhinge and shake what was left of the doorknob, people started banging on the other side. I turned to the last person who came in. It was a woman.

She was sprawled on the dingy floor like one of those distressed Greek damsels in medieval paintings. She was clearly out of herself but my main concern was the door. I was slightly claustrophobic and my head was spinning like crazy.

“Did you lock the door?"

She made a slight movement, which I took as a sign that she was not dead.

“I don’t know.” she managed to slur.

She slumped once again, her body falling limp like a baby with no developed motor skill.

“I can’t get the door open. It’s stuck.” I told the corpse.

The banging from the other side got louder.

“It’s stuck! The door is stuck! Call someone.” I exclaimed. I refuse to be trapped in a place that looked like the room in Saw.

I stole a glance at her in between my panic-stricken attempts at opening the goddamn door and realized she could be dead. I approached her and crouched down to see if she was alright.

“You okay?” I asked, holding her in my arms. I brushed strands of hair away from her face and saw that she was actually attractive. Her eyes were prettily closed, eyelash strands dainty and fine. If it weren’t for her flushed cheeks and sweat, I could’ve sworn she was just peacefully sleeping. She was breathing fine and I’m sure she wouldn’t like the idea of a stranger cradling her on a bathroom floor but I suddenly felt the urge to care for this drunk girl. And it’s not because she was attractive; I just felt like it was my duty to make sure she would go home safe. I couldn’t leave her alone in the men’s bathroom in that state. Just then, her lips twitched. She fluttered her eyelids open and looked me directly in the eye.

“Take me home” she whispered.

“Do you have anyone with you here? Friends?”

She shrugged, her eyelids closing once again. Just then, the door burst open and a slew of pissed (pun intended) patrons came rushing in. They threw me looks of disdain and judgment - probably thinking I was taking advantage of an unconscious drunk girl in the toilet. Before I got more angry looks, I scooped her up like the knight in shining armor I was.

Without even saying goodbye to my friends, I managed to wave down a taxi while carrying this girl’s dead weight. As soon as I got in with her inside, i rummaged through her purse for her wallet. Jackpot. I got an I.D. A foreigner, no doubt. She didn’t live that far, to my relief. I told the driver her address and as we revved forward, I placed her head on my shoulder.

“I wanna go home.” she kept mumbling as I sent a text to my friends that I went ahead without them.

“In a while.” I assured her.

This girl was crazy reckless. If I were some other creep, she could easily be harmed. In the wrong hands, she’d end up God knows where. I started to shake my head in disbelief. My drunken stupor was shaken off all thanks to this situation. She shifted beside me, burying her face onto my neck. I’ve never been in this position before; usually when a girl I met at some club got cozy like this, we’d end up making out and going to a motel. This night was different, all right.

“You feel really nice.” she sighed, almost inaudibly.

For some odd reason, I found myself melting at her haphazard words. I’ve gotten a lot of “You’re so cool, oppa”, some “You taste better than I expected” and a few “You’re such a great kisser” but none of them made me feel fuzzy or warm like “You feel really nice” did.

“I wanna go home.” she then whimpered.

I smiled and gave her a reassuring pat on the head - something I’ve never done to some strange girl I’ve taken home on nights like this before.

“You are home.”

As I looked out the window, the glow of dusk and neon lights blurring past my vision, I realized that I was finally beginning to think less about her.

Sorry we took so long in posting this! Again, updates are every weekend. Enjoy~

#Seventeen #SVT #Seventeen Imagines #Seventeen Scenarios #Seventeen Fanfic #Seventeen Angst #S.Coups #Seungcheol #Jun #Junhui #Hoshi #Soonyoung #Mingyu #Fanfic #Story #How We Came To Be Seek Version

For The Record (Seek ver.)

Word Count: 5,469

Type: One shot

Characters: You x Your bias

Written by: Tita #2

Note: Here is the male’s version of For The Record in his POV. Play Slow Dancing in a Burning Room by John Mayer for better effect.

“Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story.”

-Leo Tolstoy

I don’t know how long it took me to completely forget everything. Perhaps, I’m still in the process. I’ve forgotten the pain, but I still somehow find myself reminiscing from time to time. I only chose fragments of memories to keep - those that would help keep me sane on a rough day. For a while, I clung to the belief that if I harboured anger, it would speed up the forgetting process. But it didn’t. The only thing it did was dampen my soul even more. Even until now, even after we’ve had clean closure, I still have so many questions gnawing at my core. Was I even good enough? What did I do wrong? What could I have done to avoid the inevitable? And ultimately, was it all my fault?

I was a wreck when we broke up for good. I had thought maybe it was another one of our temporary “break-ups” where we cool off for a day or two and forgive each other afterwards. That’s just how we always were. It was our thing. But that break-up turned out to be our last. My friends told me that I was addicted to our rocky relationship; that it was an addiction to the challenge of fighting and the thrill of getting back together. And just like any other addiction, it was unhealthy and destructive. We both just weren’t aware of it.

I don’t like to look back at it thinking that it was a dark time. Whenever I think about her, only the good times come to mind. Ah, what were the good ones? Her smile, first of all. She didn’t have a striking appearance about her. In a sea of beautiful women, she would camouflage and blend right in. But she was the kind of girl who wasn’t exceptionally beautiful until she smiled and that smile came at me in heat waves, seeping through my body and out my fingertips in shafts of color. And whenever I saw that smile, I fell deeper and deeper in love.

When I started showing interest in her, I could feel right away she was holding back. I tried to learn so we could speak the same language, and struggled to break old habits that would give away how younger than her I really was. Early on I was already doing so much for this one girl who swore she wouldn’t go for young boys. But that was my advantage, wasn’t it? I was young. I had fresh tricks up my sleeve. I was charming. I had the energy to persist and pursue; something that older men lacked. We first went out on friendly dates (as she would call it) and I could sense that one way or another, she felt something for me too, but I just wasn’t sure how serious it was.

I remember that night. We were just hanging around Han River like we always did when it was late and quiet. The basketball court was deserted so we chose to stay there. I brought my ball, dribbling as we walked, talking about my creative process of contributing to our album. At one point she sat on the bench while I stood there at the free throw line, facing the basket like I was in the middle of the final quarter of a game.

“Noona. If I shoot this ball three times in a row, will you finally go out with me?” I smiled.

“We’ve been going out though.” she said ironically.

“You know what I mean.” I whined.

She squinted her eyes playfully, weighing the odds of me getting the ball through the hoop three times. She folded her arms across her chest.

“Okay let’s say you’re able to shoot it three times. Do you really want me to become your girlfriend through sheer luck?” she asked skeptically.

“I don’t mind.” I retorted.

She laughed. It was always music to my ears. “Okay then. But let me add a twist. Each time you miss, you have to give me a really good reason why we should be together.” She tilted her head to the side tauntingly. She was quite enjoying herself.

I scoffed. “Alright. Deal.

I was never an athlete but I could make a decent throw. To both our surprise, my first attempt was a success.

“Yes!” I exulted, throwing a victorious fist in the air.

Even from afar I could tell she rolled her eyes.

Feeling completely invincible, I aimed and threw the ball again. I didn’t even really expect it to go through, but it did. Luck was on my side, I thought. She later revealed to me that she got quite nervous that time. She said she didn’t want to get into a relationship with a younger guy through a silly little free throw game

This was it. My final throw. From someone else’s perspective, it was a childish bet. It really was. But that night, I took it more seriously than I should’ve.

Steadying my stance and bending my knees just right, I flicked my wrist to throw the ball and…miss. She jumped up and cheered like there was no tomorrow.

“Ha! You lose! I win!” she rejoiced, laughing and leaping up and down.

Disheartened as I was, I had to chuckle at her little celebration. I’ve never seen a girl so uninhibited and carefree before, it was so satisfying and refreshing to watch.

“Okay so a deal’s a deal, you have to give me a reason why we should be together.” she cackled, still smiling from ear to ear like a lunatic.

I tucked the ball on my hip and looked at her, analyzing why this manic and loud human being made my stomach feel like an animal balloon being tied in knots. I cocked my head sidewards.

“We should be together because I love that smile.” I said, pointing at her grinning face. “And I want to be the reason behind it.”

The words just came out and for the first time in a long time, I felt flustered. I haven’t been flustered since I was in middle school. But there I was, ball by the hip, standing like an idiot in front of the girl I liked. I avoided her eyes immediately and started dribbling the ball, hoping I didn’t lose my cool. I was about to say something off topic but not before she approached and snatched the ball from me.

“You already are.” she said as-a-matter-of-factly.

My social cues are sometimes off, especially when I’m nervous. Occasionally it had its rewards though, like at that moment when I leaned in to kiss her, she kissed me back. I mean, I was never an athlete, but that was the best basketball game I’ve ever played. I single-handedly won.

Unfortunately, I rarely won after that. She was a stubborn piece of work who refused to be wrong. She threw around phrases like “I’m older than you, I know better” every chance she could. At the beginning of our relationship, I was fine with it. I loved that she was older than me. I loved that she was smarter in ways that I wasn’t. However, she started to slowly believe in the idea that she could never ever be wrong. That only I could do wrong because I was just a kid. To her, everything that doesn’t go right will be because of me. I was always the one to apologize first. I was always the one to give in.

“You are so childish.” she told me once during another fight.

"그래. 나 유치해. 왜? You chose to love a child.”

That’s right. I’m childish. Why? You chose to love a child, I said pointedly.

It aggravated her even more when I answered this way. Because we both knew I was right. She wanted me. She wanted this. She could complain for all I care but she chose to be with me.

“Let’s break up then, kid.” she would say.

And then of course we would break up. But for the life of me, I couldn’t last one night without her. And I knew she felt the same way. It was only a matter of who wanted to make up first. In our case, it was often me.

But that changed, eventually.

One day, she just disappeared. She up and left without so much of a text or note. I spiraled into what I call a state of mental pandemonium. When she didn’t pick up or answer any of my messages, the logical thing to do was call the police. I had literally no idea what could have happened to her. Was she abducted on the way to work? Surely she wasn’t kidnapped from her apartment, it was locked and she left it neat and clean. I knew because I had an extra key. The worst thing was giving the police a photo of her when there was still no word from her after 24 hours. I disrupted my own schedule so that I could find a single clue where she could’ve been or what could’ve happened to her. There was only so much I could do and it drove me insane. I was able to reach one of her acquaintances who said that she might have just gone on a vacation.

“I don’t think so, she would tell me.” I said, trying to sound less frantic.

“Well. That’s how we actually met. I met her on one of those vacations. I asked her if she was new in town and she said she just ran away by herself without telling anyone. It was her idea of a retreat, if I remember correctly.” the voice said on the other line.

I tried to grasp the possibility of this theory. I guess, it was better than thinking she was harmed or kidnapped.

She was gone for a week. That’s how cruel she was. Each day she was missing got me closer and closer to a full-blown nervous breakdown. I couldn’t sleep or eat not knowing where she was or what she was doing. I was such a mess that my friends and managers couldn’t bring me to focus anymore.

“I understand what you’re going through, but if it’s true that she just ran away then let her be. I’m sure she’s alright.” one of my members said.

“She would let me know, though. She knows I’d be worried. I mean, I get worried when she’s out with friends for goodness sake she knows running away like this would kill me.” I responded in an unexpectedly shrill and shaky voice. I’ve had too much coffee.

“But she didn’t tell you, man. She left without telling you. Chicks are weird like this, you can’t predict them. Look, I know it’s useless to tell you to relax but just open your mind a little bit and consider what I’m saying. Stop thinking the worst has happened she’s probably in Jeju riding horses.”

He was probably right. At that point, that was the best case scenario. I tried to bring myself back to sanity by thinking she just ran away and went on a little secret vacation, that’s all, no big deal.

Except, it was a big deal.

I was relieved that she came back safe. My friends did a good job comforting me and convincing me that she would return safely. And for my own mental health, I had to believe them. Otherwise, I don’t know what would have happened to me if I let paranoia and panic win me over. She showed up at our office. It was late at night, and I remember planning to pull an all-nighter at the studio because of all the work I’ve had to push back. It’s strange - how I knew from the knock on the studio door that it was her. When she came in and I finally saw her face after an agonizing week, there were two waves of emotions that washed over me. The first was relief, the second was betrayal. And that second wave was a tsunami. Without as much as a single word, I got up and led her to a quiet hidden corner.

I leaned against the wall, hands in my pockets. I tried to hide all the emotions I was feeling because I needed explanations first and foremost. I expected her to speak first, since she was the one who had to do the explaining. But judging from her fidgeting fingers, I knew she couldn’t find the right words. She should have prepared enough. She had a week to do that. I was getting more and more annoyed so I decided to break the silence.

“Where have you been.” it was more of a rhetorical question at this point. I didn’t care anymore where she went. Deep down, I knew that my friends have been right. She left without the intention of telling me, simple as that. The look of guilt gave it away. It was written all over her face.

“I came to say sorry.”

I shook my head. Sorry. It occurred to me later on that this was actually the first time she was apologizing first. And yet, my ego wasn’t basking in victory. My ego couldn’t care less. The past week has been nothing but torture, and I was exhausted - too exhausted to understand her excuses. She said she needed distance. That she didn’t want to be bothered.

That was the biggest thought that stuck with me that night - that I was a bother.

I accused her of running off with someone, after which she slapped me across the face. She’s slapped me once or twice before but this was the only time I didn’t deserve it. I had every right to suspect her. I had every right to accuse her. After everything she put me through that week, she had the audacity to slap me; as if the emotional torment she left me in wasn’t enough.

“If you want to break up with me, do it. Don’t run away like a coward.” I told her.

She started crying. One of the things I hated most was making her cry. But I didn’t falter. It was clear to me that she didn’t see me as her companion. I always felt that my age was her weapon against me. Not this time, though. No. She can’t use that anymore to justify what she did.

“Why won’t you just tell me your problems? Why won’t you tell me what you’re running away from?” I yelled at her

“Because they’re also about you!”

Well, there it was. The explanation I was looking for all this time. That was my cue. The blatant realization that I was such a heavy burden for her dropped on me like those grand pianos in cartoons. I love this girl. I adjusted my life for this girl. I’d bend over backwards for this girl. But as it turns out, she’s been unsure of me this whole time.

Her begging and crying afterwards fell on deaf ears. I broke up with her then and there in the parking lot. I’ve done break-ups before but never this god-awful.

I know I said I couldn’t last one night without her. This time, I was able to hold it out longer. It was her turn to pursue me. It was her turn to grovel. She claimed she wanted to start things over again.

“I want to talk to you. All I want in this world is you. I want us to begin everything from the beginning.” she left in my voicemail.

And we did. From that point on, things started to get better. And by better, I don’t mean rainbows and fireworks. Better didn’t mean no more fights. Better meant she started treating me like an equal. Like I wasn’t just some kid she was dating. She started to trust me. And for the first time, she let me feel that she loved me as much as I loved her.

We never expressed that verbally though; how we loved each other. We weren’t the types to say ‘I love you’ frequently. We measured our love through big gestures like me modifying my hectic daily schedule so I could spend more time with her, or small ones like her visiting my family in my hometown on my behalf. My family adored her. Even after we’ve separated they still ask about her and it drove me nuts. “How is she?” “Has she been healthy?” “Where could she be right now?” I don’t know, mom. You tell me.

They loved her, but not as much as I did. The first time I said it to her we were snuggling in bed. I had come straight to her place from a schedule and it was past 2AM. I had an incoming fatigue, and my idea of recuperating was being with her. She was used to my late night surprise visits by now. She barely got up from bed anymore and simply scooched over to make room for me. I collapsed in her embrace like I always did and inhaled her scent. It was instant remedy for a long, tiring day. She would rub my back, and I would nuzzle her neck, and we would fall asleep together. Neither of us would talk, as I always gave in right away to exhaustion, and she would slip back into the dreamland state she was in before I barged in. That night though, I just had to say it.

“Noona.” I whispered into the crane of her neck.

“Hmm.” her eyes were delicately closed.

“I love you.” I breathed, my eyelids drooping.

She then let out this tiny, almost inaudible sigh in her sleep before saying “I love you.”

She gently rested her hand on my cheek and it stayed there, unmoving and warm, until we both finally gave in to slumber.

There are other times - like in private when it’s just me and her - she would let me be an oppa for our own little enjoyment.

“How much do you love me?” she teased, with a hint of aegyo.

“Like a sea otter.”

“A what?”

“A sea otter.”

“Can’t you be more romantic for once?”

“You know how sea otters hang out in the water? Well, they sleep and float at sea while holding hands so that they won’t drift apart from each other. Sweet huh?”

“Yeah it is.”

“That’s how much I love you.”

“You won’t let go?”

“Even if we both get eaten by a shark.“

Which brings me to one of my favorite things about us: our small banters. I used to date girls in the past who could only ever talk about love fluff. Always forcing me to talk sweet, persuading me to wear couple shirts and all that corny bullshit. I gave in to their requests just so I could get laid. But with her, I was free to talk about anything. Sky wasn’t even the limit. I enjoyed our long talks as much as our sex. We never ran out of things to talk about, which is probably why we never ran out of things to fight about either. One of the many talks we had that I remember was after we’d watched Inside Out the hundredth time. It was our go-to movie when we had nothing better to do. After the movie, we took a walk at Han River park again, idly strolling hand in hand.

“What’s your core memory?” she asked spontaneously.

“The happy one or the sad one?” I asked back.

“Both.”

I went on and on about my happy core memories. When I graduated, when I got accepted into Pledis, when my dad got a new job. She nodded along to my anecdotes, even though I’ve told these stories a few times before. She was always such a great listener.

“Oh but my biggest happy core memory is when we first had sex.” I quipped and she lightly punched me on my arm.

“What about your sad core memories?” she queried.

“Well, I don’t think I have core ones yet. What about you? What are your yellow memories?”

Her eyebrows knit for a moment, as if pondering and scouring her memories for the right answer.

“One of them was coming here.” she finally responded.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I can see myself years from looking back on this country and I’ll be reminded of you.”

“Why do you always talk like we’re bound to break up?” I laughed.

“I’m just saying, theoretically. Hypothetically.” and she gave me a wink.

Thinking about it now, she was in all of my core memories. She was my reds, my yellows, and she was most definitely my blues. That time she ran away? That was a big purple orb. When we broke up for the last time, all of it turned blue. But like the saying goes, it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. She was the definition of ‘putting color into one’s life’ and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I’d rather have a bunch of blue orbs than never having any memories of her at all. Before we met, I was only black and white.

We both liked to joke that I was her personal Bing Bong, because of my childish ways and playful nature. I had a way of making her feel less older than me. But most of all, just like Bing Bong, I was desperate not to be forgotten.

But the inevitable happened. We started to spiral downwards like a forming tornado ready to wreck everything in our way. She was upset at the fact I was always out of town. I told her countless times that she was free to come with me to my events, even if it’s just a photoshoot but she refused. “I’m not ready for that. I have a life too.” she reasoned. I can’t just halt my schedule, that’s out of my hands, I tell her. I tried my hardest to skip company meetings, dinners, rehearsals just so I could make time for her. It was the starting point of my career, it was the best I could do. All I wanted from her was to adjust a little bit of her lifestyle like I did. But she wasn’t having any of that. She didn’t want to meet me halfway. She was afraid of stepping foot into my world, as if it would hurt her. She kept trying to break up with me, arguing that our worlds were too different. That we didn’t even speak the same language. But I don’t think that’s really what her reason is. Somehow, it was always me who kept a rational mind, persuading her to stay.

“I don’t get tired of understanding you.” I assured her.

“Why? You should be. Even I’m sick of my mood swings. Why do you take pleasure in all of this?” she seethed.

“There just happens to be a guy in this world who enjoys trying to understand you. Why is that so wrong?”

Apparently being understood just wasn’t sufficient for her. She said that she had different principles and that they didn’t match mine. We wanted different things out of life and out of each other. I admit that she was right. Maybe we had enough valid reasons to break up for good, but still not a single reason to stop loving each other. No matter how much effort people put into relationships, sometimes, it just isn’t enough.

It reminded me of that Haruki Murakami quote plastered on the wall of our favorite cafe. "Despite your best efforts, people are going to get hurt when it’s time for them to get hurt.” Why would they put such a despairing quote on display? I never quite understood it. But now I do. As I sat there at our usual table, but alone this time, I understood.

Whenever I stood on that stage, I couldn’t help but think of her. There was a sea of faces that stretched before me - all unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. Even if I never found her face amidst that sea, I still knew that she was my biggest supporter. And though she did nothing but complain that I was always away, she made it a point to let me know how proud she was of me.

I sat alone in the car one day, rain slamming hard against the windows. The windshield wipers weren’t of any help. I was parked outside her building, hoping against hope that I would catch a glimpse of her. I stared at the phone in my hand. 6 digits; only 1 more to dial before her phone rings again. It’s been a week since I told her that I would wait for her to come to her senses. I tried to call, but I found myself knocking on her door instead. She looked absolutely worn out from crying the previous night. I knew in an instant that she had made up her mind. All my attempts to sway her were futile. I did almost everything - I swallowed my pride, made myself pitiful so I could induce some form of guilt in her; but none of it worked. She made the decision a long time ago.

“I’m tired. You’re tired. This can’t go on.” she said in between sobs. She sat on the edge of her bed, her head hanging low.

I kicked a chair across the room in frustration.

“We’ve been through this. We’ll get better. Just trust me.”

She said nothing. Her soft whimpers and sniffles only resonated in the tense air. I discovered that silence is something you can actually hear.

I don’t remember much how that day ended. I might have blurred it out of my mind in an attempt to forget that it happened. All I know is that after I had stormed out, I wound up dazed in our favorite cafe. I sat across her empty seat, picturing that effervescent smile I always talked about. How do I even begin to accept that this was finally the end? Where do I go from here? I looked at the doodle designs on the table, searching for something to distract me from my thoughts. But instead, I got an answer in the form of another Haruki Murakami quote.

“In everybody’s life, there’s a point of no return. And in a very few cases, a point where you can’t go forward anymore. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept the fact. That’s how we survive.”

I caught myself almost laughing hysterically. Quietly accept the fact. With all due respect, Mr. Murakami - it’s easier said than done.

I did what any guy my age would do after a break-up: sleep around. It was a quick fix, but didn’t have lasting effects. I’ve been with a whole bunch, but I didn’t keep count of how many I slept with. All I know is that I saw pieces of her in every single one of them. I also got drunk a lot, which sort of helped, except I always ended up creeping in her neighborhood.

I bumped into her a few months after, at our favorite cafe. The timing couldn’t have been more awkward as I was with someone and I didn’t know how to start a conversation after months of not talking. I think I might have stuttered like an idiot but she looked like she was in a hurry. Above all, she looked like she was holding up fine. She looked like she has completely moved on and I remember walking out of that cafe feeling like shit that I almost forgot about the girl I was with. How could she forget so easily? How could she be fine? Was I that easy to let go?

A week later I got severely wasted and I ended up at her building. I was on autopilot mode - it was out of my conscious control. I banged on her door and I practically collapsed on her. The liquor intake I had that night emitted out details of what happened but I was sure she let me sleep beside her. That part I remember, alright - I was in her embrace again. One sniff of her familiar scent sobered me up. This was all I needed. Just one last chance for me to be beside her. Even if she didn’t love me anymore, I just wanted to create one yellow core memory for myself and then I swore to the universe that I would move on. I wanted the night to last a lifetime. I prayed that the sun wouldn’t come out, just so I could stretch my time with her in that bed. Because we both knew that when morning came, the magic will be over. For good.

All I could leave her with was my favorite shirt. That’s how lame of an ex-boyfriend I am. I didn’t want to end up like Bing Bong - gone and forgotten; so I gave her something that would remind her of me. I made her promise to keep it and not let some other jerk wear it.

“I will. Promise me you’ll keep writing songs thinking of me?” she said in jest.

I smiled. It felt like ages since I last felt the need to smile. It was an odd sensation, but good nonetheless.

“I’ll keep my word, I promise.” I told her.

I gave her one final kiss on the forehead before I headed out her door, shirtless.

I turned to her so I could see that smile of hers for the final time before I walk away for good. And there it was. Photos didn’t do justice to how better it looked up close.

“너 예쁘다.” You’re pretty, I said simply, then left.

Incredibly enough, I managed to survive. Maybe there was some truth to that Mr. Murakami quote. I’m still here. I accepted facts and I’m alive and well. It’s a feeling of being washed up on the shore after being shipwrecked. Worn out, beat up, gasping for air…but alive. In the middle of a chaotic album preparation, my colleagues and I have been consistently debating and arguing about which tracks and lyrics were best suited for our concept. During the whole ordeal, I have been the butt of all their jokes. I was a lovesick puppy. I was a forlorn lover. Oh if it’s about love, then let’s let him decide ha ha ha! They found my misery amusing and strangely, inspirational. All of the songs in one way or another had something to do with our personal experiences in love. This time however, I couldn’t quite bring myself to write about her anymore. Maybe it was too soon. The wound was still throbbing. The only time I ever made a creative contribution was when I told them the last words I ever said to her. And as ridiculous as it might sound, it turned out to be our next title track. I was hoping she wouldn’t figure it out.

I’m walking around New York for the first time. I’ve been traveling more often now than I had ever done before. I suddenly thought of how difficult it would be had we stayed together. Maybe it just wasn’t the right time. Or maybe we weren’t meant for each other at all. I refuse to believe that though. I think we are all meant for a certain person at a certain time. We met so that we could tear each others walls down and reveal a new layer of ourselves. So we could break open our hearts, so that new light could get in. We were meant to destroy each other, so that we could each transform into better versions of ourselves. But we were never meant to be together forever.

I stopped in my tracks and glanced at a Bing Bong stuffed toy displayed at a store window. There was a signage beside it in the form of a speech bubble. It was the character’s quote from the movie, his last line before vanishing:

Take her to the moon for me, okay?

I had to smile. Whoever she was bound to end up with permanently, I sure do hope he takes her to the moon on my behalf.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen scenario #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #s.coups #jeonghan #joshua #jun #hoshi #wonwoo #woozi #dokyeom #mingyu #the8 #seungkwan #vernon #dino #story #for the record

"He had told Jeonghan to not strain himself too much at the gym, but in reality he just wanted Jeonghan to maintain his lean, feminine figure that he liked so much." Honestly, this was kinda off, portraying Jeonghan as that feminine guy again and making it sound like he's a girl trapped in a dude's body. He's a guy just like how Seungcheol is also a guy. I hope fanfic writers stop portraying him as like a "girl" just to satisfy people's hetero fantasies. Thanks.

This isn't a product of a hetero fantasy. Manly guys can also have delicate, feminine features. Their physical attributes don't necessarily mean that they are more feminine in nature. Also, just because an author decides to write the features of someone as slender or feminine does not automatically make it as a fuel for heteronormativity. SJWs need to stop bending over backwards just to get offended over everything.

Do you have a masterlist?

Yes we do, but for some reason I just can't make it work on mobile... 😢😢😢

How We Came To Be

Word Count : 1,961

Type: Chaptered [ I, II, III, IV, V]

Characters: You x Seventeen bias

Note: The member was not specified but made with S.Coups, Jun, Hoshi, and Mingyu in mind.

Written by: Tita #2

Playlist: Click here to listen

Chapter Six: HOW EVERYTHING CHANGED

♬ Comfortable - John Mayer

♬ For You - Gavin James

The first two weeks after we broke up was a blur. Half the time I spent sleeping, the other half I spent looking for ways to fall asleep. I had resorted to pills, liquor, and Netflix. Some days, I’d take on all three of them together. Anything to keep me from breaking down, really. I had turned off my phone since God knows when. Last I heard he didn’t go to the wedding. That alone says a lot. On the third week, I started going out with friends, only to come home and crumble into the broken piece that I was. That’s when I decided to move out.

That place held too many memories. Each corner, every side of the wall had its own memory of him. I had rented a room with a friend of mine. It was her idea. I couldn’t possibly live all by myself while I was going through this difficult time. Within two months, I cleared out the entire flat and put his remaining stuff in a box. And when I say stuff I meant our Instax photos together, his shirts, his shaving kit, toothbrush, slippers, packs of unopened condoms and headphones. It always drove me nuts when he would leave his stuff lying around after having spent the night. I put them in a small box and left it at the doorstep. I couldn’t bring myself to return them to him nor throw them away. Not just yet. Maybe when the new tenants move in, they’ll see it and get rid of it for me.

A few days after I had moved out, I dropped by the neighborhood where my old place was to see if anyone new has moved in yet. Just as I was approaching my old building, I saw Joshua walking out. He almost staggered upon seeing me.

“Hey.” He said in English.

“Josh. What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Uhm. I was looking for you. They said you moved out but then here you are.”

“I was just going to check on something. What’s up?”

I knew this was going to be about him. I wish I avoided this meeting but he was extremely nice and I couldn’t really send him away like that. Not after coming all the way here clearly from a schedule. His hair was all done and there was a trace of make-up on him. I invited him to that little tea place around the corner. Somehow I knew we would need a private, quiet place to talk. As soon as we sat down, he started opening up. I felt like he wanted this to be over and done with. I had the same sentiment. I had a sneaky feeling though that he was sent here to check up on me.

“I’m not the type to intrude on other people’s relationships but…we just feel like you guys should work things out.” he began, getting right down to business

I pursed my lips. What was there to work out? He still loved someone else. He hasn’t gotten over his past. How exactly do we work that out?

“I’m sorry Josh, I just don’t think there’s anything more I can do. I can’t just tell him ‘Hey, stop your feelings’ and everything will be alright. Do you understand?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I know. I guess I just took a shot, hoping I could convince you to take him back.”

I fiddled with my fingers momentarily. I cleared my throat before getting the courage I needed.

“So how is he?” I dared to ask. I wasn’t even sure if I was ready to hear anything about him. But the question was clawing at me.

“Terrible. He hates himself right now. He blames himself for everything. He didn’t mean to hurt you, you know. And he really does still love you. It’s just that…he needs his feelings and emotions sorted.”

Sorted. It sounded like his hang-up with his ex was just some document that needed to be put in the right folder. I faked a smile.

“I think you’re perfect for each other. Maybe this just isn’t the right time yet. He still needs a lot of healing. And once he’s gotten rid of his monsters, maybe then you two can patch things up and pick up where you left off.” he added.

I watched the hot smoke billow from my cup. It was calming and soothing. “Maybe. But I don’t want to wait for him to come around. I have a life too.”

“I understand.” he smiled reassuringly. I appreciated the fact that he was considerate of my feelings with the way he talked. He wasn’t pushy or persistent.

I drummed my fingers on the tablecloth, as he sipped on his tea. He could tell I had more questions, but it was completely up to me if I wanted to ask them. It was now or never.

“He really loves her, huh?” I blurted, thinking how long it has been since they broke up but even after all this time, he’d injure himself over her.

He clasped his hands together and tilted his head, as if trying to recall something.

“He adored her. She was his first love, you know? And first loves are a big deal. He believed for sure she wasn’t capable of leaving him, but she did. And so she was the first to break his heart. And I think that’s why she had this massive effect on him; she stomped not only his heart, but also his ego.”

I nodded. I really did understand. But it still didn’t change the fact that I was collateral damage. In a way, I was mad at myself for getting myself into this. I knew he had baggage and yet I risked it anyway. I brought this upon myself.

“She’s happily married. It’s just a matter of time until he finally gets over her. And you. He’s having a double heartbreak I don’t know how he does it.” he went on, as if it’s something that would make me feel better.

“Well I wish him the best.”

“You look like you’re doing okay.”

“I am. Or at least I try to be.”

He looked at his watch and told me he had to be someplace else and I thanked him for coming over all the way here.

“Before I go, he wanted me to give you this.” He reached for a letter from his back pocket. It was neatly folded into a tiny square

I took it from his hand, realizing that this was his plan all along. To send Joshua here to check up on me and give me this letter.

“He wanted to do it the old school way. He’s a hopeless romantic like that.” Joshua laughed, before waving goodbye and running to the van waiting for him.

I stared at the folded square. There was a reason why I never opened his text messages after I left him. I didn’t want to hear from him. I was angry at him but at the same time I didn’t want to miss him any more than I already did. When I read his words, I hear his voice in my head and all I’ve been doing these past months was to get rid of that. But here it was. He resorted to the old school way to reach out to me. With shaking hands, I unfolded the letter.

I folded the letter back to its original form. He was hoping for second chances in the long run. I don’t know how long our healing would take. By then I’ll probably find someone else, and he will too. There’s just no telling what will become of us. But one thing’s for certain: I did not hope to see him soon.

Approximately 1 year later, I was at a bachelorette party of a friend. We were at the hottest club in Hongdae and things were going wild and south. Imagine a horde of drunk girls packed in a small club and you got yourself a hot spot for scandalous shenanigans. I had just probably finished an entire bottle of tequila by myself. Everyone was holding their own bottle at this point. My friends were getting married one by one and I was still dating back and forth. No big deal. I was genuinely happy and satisfied with my life. As soon as the male strippers finished their little show, I stepped outside for some fresh air. The amount of smoke inside made my head spin ever more. I doubled over and threw up on the sidewalk. I was getting too old for this, I thought. After hurling all the contents of my stomach, I tried to get back up. But I was still too woozy and my legs too wobbly to stand. I instantly regretted all those tequila shots I did by myself.

Just then, as if the universe planned this entire night all along, I felt a warm hand on my arm. “You okay?”

His voice was melting honey.

And that’s the end for the How We Came To Be story. Tell us what you think about it and thank you so much for reading! (Also if you can’t read the letter kindly tell us so we can edit it.)

#Seventeen #SVT #Seventeen scenarios #Seventeen imagines #Seventeen fanfic #S.Coups #Seungcheol #S.Coups scenario #Jun #Junhui #Jun scenarios #Hoshi #Soonyoung #Hoshi scenario #Mingyu scenario #story #fanfic #How We Came To Be

I keep rereading How We Came to Be even when it brings me so much pain lol and I also keep listening to the palylist ;_; i love heartbreak and i love you because that was exactly the kind of story i wanted *cries on the inside* keep it up titas!!!

Giiirl, I know exactly how you feel! I’ve read it countless of times now and I still get sad about it. 😢 Anyway, thank you and we love you too, bb! ❤️

#love&letter

Chapter 5 wrecked me omg omg omg what's your guys' schedule when will I heal with chp 6 omg will I heal with 6 or will it just wreck me even more

Hey there, updates are posted every Sundays. We’re sorry chapter 5 wrecked you…? Hahaha! Chapter 6 will be the last one for this story, and honestly I’m not sure if it’ll help you heal or just wreck you more. 🙈🙉🙊

#love&letter

Oh man. I've just read How We Came to Be and I'm shocked. Also, because of it, I can't stop listening to Heartbreak warfare! Unfortunately the next chapter is the last one...

I hope it was the good kind of shock! 🙈 Yeah, unfortunately the next one’s the last chapter…😞

#love&letter #liv-ingformusic

Wow chapter five was intense! Loved it! 👍💕

Thank you so much! ❤️❤️❤️

#love&letter #svt-requests

How We Came To Be

Word Count : 1,930

Type: Chaptered [ I, II, III, IV, VI]

Characters: You x Seventeen bias

Note: The member was not specified but made with S.Coups, Jun, Hoshi, and Mingyu in mind.

Written by: Tita #2

Playlist: Click here to listen

Chapter Five: HOW IT TOOK A TURN

♬ Sorry - Maria Mena

♬ Heartbreak Warfare - John Mayer

I remember everything - how it began, where it spiralled down, what words were said. It’s funny how people are quick to romanticize the good but forget the bad. I remember the bad more vividly than the good. The good gives me so much to hold on to, but it’s the bad that gives me so much to remember.

There was a storm that day. I was stuck in my apartment, electricity cut off and everything. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere that time; it was just impossible. In the darkness, my phone lit up and rang. It was Seungkwan. He’s never called me before unless it was to invite me to drink with them. It was 4pm in the afternoon. Confused, I picked it up.

“Seungkwan?”

“Noona. Do you think you can come over to the dorm?”

I could hear panic in his voice. I was immediately alarmed.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“He’s…trashed the whole place and locked himself in the bathroom. The managers can’t even get him to come out. We’re worried.”

I stood up. What did he mean? What happened?

“Is he okay? What happened?” I frantically asked.

“He’s drunk and I don’t know what happened he started throwing things around and crying. He might listen to you. He told us not to break down the door but we’re worried. You might convince him. Please.”

Without much of a goodbye, I rushed out the door and into the raging storm. As confused and clueless as I was, I knew I had to be there. The last time I saw him was the other day and we were alright. He was his normal self. We even had sex in his car before he dropped me home. What had happened? It was scaring me to death. Even as I drove through the violent storm, it was him that scared me to death. I don’t know how I got there so fast but I was soaked to the bone. I arrived at their door making a puddle on the floor. As soon as Myungho opened the door, I could see the damage. Glass, shoes, broken plates, beer bottles and cans were everywhere. I tiptoed through it all. Whatever it is that caused this chaos, it was something serious. The living room was crowded but none of them looked as panicked as I was.

“What happened?” I asked to no one in particular for the hundredth time.

Some were cleaning up the mess. I spotted tiny drops of blood on the floor.

“He’s in there.” one of the managers said, pointing at the bathroom door. “He probably injured himself while he was throwing a tantrum. We’re this close to calling the police if he doesn’t open the door.”

I turned to the members, desperate for answers. I approached Seungkwan. He was the only one who could look me in the eye. I didn't know why the rest of them avoided me. I was clearly on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

“Seungkwan. Tell me.” I pleaded.

He exhaled deeply, as if he’s given up. He took one look at the others, letting them know that only he had the balls to face me.

“He found out yesterday. This came in the company mail.” he replied, and handed me what looked like a wedding invitation.

I saw her name. It was her’s. His ex-girlfriend was getting married.

I felt like a blunt force hit the side of my head. Suddenly, my vision was swimming in black. My blood started to run cold and numbness started creeping in from my legs. I stared at the dainty thing while I mentally pieced all the sequence of events together. I was locked in a stupor for a while, trying to make sense of all this. But Seungkwan snapped me out it almost instantly.

“We had no choice but to call you. I know it’s selfish but he’ll listen to you. He loves you.” he begged.

He loves you seemed like a joke to my ears now. But I was there and I had to somehow do something about this.

I nodded and walked to the bathroom door, Seungkwan by my side. He knocked on the door.

“Hyung. You left us with no choice.” he said and signaled me to talk.

I gently knocked on the door. “It’s me.”

I heard shuffling from inside. At least I know he was alive in there.

“Please come out.” I whimpered.

I started crying. I didn’t feel the tears as I was still soaking wet from the rain. Was I crying because I was concerned or because one of my worst fears has finally come true? It was probably both.

Suddenly, the door flew open and he whipped past me, coming at Seungkwan. He held him by the collar of his shirt. The boys immediately ran to them and intercepted.

“Why did you get her into this? Why did you call her?” he yelled, as the boys tried to pull him off from a terrified Seungkwan.

I got in between them as well and tried to pull him aside. He was clearly appalled that they had gotten me involved with his meltdown over his ex. Truthfully, I wish I hadn’t come. Had I known this was the reason he was acting out, I wouldn’t have shown my face to him. But I took notice of the blood dripping from his fingers. He was injured. And my initial instinct was to fix it. Amidst this ugly mess, it was my only concern at the moment. He let go of Seungkwan and I practically dragged him to his room and locked the door. I could hear the boys running behind.

He sat and slumped on one of the beds. He looked absolutely horrible. He was wet, bloody and seemed like he hasn’t slept in two days. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. Blood. I took out some tissue from my bag. I knelt down in front of him, taking his hand and looking at the damage. There were minor and small cuts on his hand, probably from shards of broken glass. I put the tissue on it and applied pressure. i rummaged for the band-aids in my bag. I probably only had two left but at least I could stop the bleeding. He noticed I had been crying, as he extended his good hand and wiped my eye. I ignored it and carefully placed a band-aid on one cut.

As I was opening the second band-aid, I spoke. “You weren’t completely honest with me.” I said quietly.

He didn’t respond but he was watching me intently. I turned his hand over and slowly put a band-air over another cut.

“I think I deserve the truth. And I want you to look me in the eye and give it. Understood?” I went on, taking the bloody tissue and preparing a new clean one. I neatly folded it and put it on his palm. The bleeding was less now. Still no answer. I didn’t care. I applied pressure on his hand and looked him in the eye.

“Do you still love her?” I asked, though by now the answer was quite obvious and I was just making a fool out of myself at this point.

His eyes hesitated for a moment but he knew that I knew. It was poor form to lie now. He raised his hand, attempting to hold my face but I gently put it away. I waited, my eyes probing his. And then, he finally nodded.

And even though I expected that nod, it felt like splinters of glass pierced my heart. The pain wasn’t even close to that of his bloody hand. I nodded back at him, as if I understood...but I was choking back tears. My legs were now numb but I didn’t want to get up. I wanted to stay on my knees. If I got up, I don’t think I’d be able to hold it together.

“Do you love me?” I followed up.

“Yes.” he spoke this time.

I nodded again. I knew he was telling the truth and I believed him. I knew he loved me but even that wasn’t enough to make me feel better. Nothing could make me feel better. Pain and betrayal this immense had no immediate remedy. But I kept my composure and tried to muster every ounce of strength left in me. I wasn’t about to join him in his little psychotic episode.

“Can you explain that?” I said, after clearing my throat. My head was starting to throb.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know either until I found out she was getting married. It just…resurfaced. It came out and I couldn’t contain it. I’m sorry.” he paused to roughly run his hand through his hair. He struggled to get the right words out. "But…I really do love you. What I feel for you is real you have to believe me.”

I have heard enough. I stood up, despite my numb legs. I towered over him and he looked up at me with desperate eyes. He knew I was done. He knew this was goodbye. He hugged my waist and locked me tight in his arms.

“I’m so sorry. Please, please. Forgive me. Don’t leave. I won’t be able to take it.” his cries were muffled by my shirt.

He had the gall to ask me to stay. I started to feel anger now. Did he think I was dumb enough to accept that he loves another woman? That I was going to just help him carry his baggage? I was furious. Tears fell down like waterfalls now. Thunder clapped outside. What a terrible day to break up and break someone’s heart.

“Let go.” I told him nonchalantly. It’s funny how many times I’ve told him that. On different occasions and instances. Maybe this was the last time I had to say it. And hopefully this time, he’d actually listen.

I cupped my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from sobbing. Just a little bit more, I told myself. He stood up and put his mouth on mine. He showered my lips with repetitive soft kisses the way he usually did when he wanted to make up. Whenever I was angry, all he had to do was sneak tiny kisses on my lips and everything would be alright. I shut my eyes to let my tears fall, so he could taste them. So he’d know how much pain he’s caused. His small kisses turned into hunger. He slipped in his tongue and I returned the favor. I slid both my hands under his shirt and up his chest. I could feel his heart racing against his ribcage. He ran his fingers through my damp hair, cradling and stroking my head as he bit my lips raw. He sighed into my mouth, and I couldn’t help but quiver. I kissed him like I’ve never kissed before; like I’ll never kiss him again. Then, I slipped my hands back out his shirt and pulled away from his lip lock. That was enough for a last kiss. I looked up at him with a sad smile.

“Goodbye.” I said, my tiny voice faltering and shaking.

I walked out the door as fast as I could. I ran past the boys, and didn’t bother looking back.

And I ran. I ran through the rain. I ran even as I felt a fever coming up. I just remember running.

I ran until I was gone.

-End of Chapter 5-

#Seventeen #svt #Seventeen scenarios #Seventeen imagines #Seventeen fanfic #S.Coups #Seungcheol #S.Coups scenario #Jun #Junhui #Jun scenario #Hoshi #Soonyoung #Hoshi scenario #Mingyu #Mingyu scenario #story #fanfic #How We Came To Be

heyyy! just wanna let u know I LOVE HOW WE CAME TO BE 😍 and the words u use are so good u're such a good writer! i need next chapters 😩😩 hihi xx

Hiiii!!!!!! Thank you so much, you’re so sweet! ❤️❤️❤️ Chapter 5 will come out on Sunday. Make sure to check it out, okay! I read it and, omg, just omg.

#love&letter #s-v-tdoitnow

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