Tiger Down Ch.1 — Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) SMAU Series
Cheater — 95z SMAU Reactions
Tiger Down Ch.2 — Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) SMAU Series
✎𓂃 Coming Next :
The Weight of Your Hand — Lee Seokmin (Dokyeom) Drabble
Disclaimer : Please know that all the works I write just for fun and pure entertainment. These stories are entirely fictional, these do NOT represent the idols in irl!! Don’t take anything to heart.
I upload on Sunday & Wednesday!
I don’t mind interactions, likes, or reblogs! I like to respond to comments, so feel free to comment. Emoji anons are more than welcome too! But I don’t do requests sorry!!
── .✦ Tiger Down — Ch.2 : Grind Never Stops (It Should’ve)
«Back Guide Next»
Pairing : Idol!Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x Reader. Genres : SMAU, Established Relationship, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Angst Warnings : Mention of Food.
ᯓ★ Synopsis : When Hoshi forgets a date with you—his long-time partner—with a selfie in the gym, all hell breaks loose on both online and off. Between tiger plushes, spicy tteokbokki, and a group chat that wants his head, Soonyoung has one chance to earn back your love (and tiger privileges).
Pairing : 95z Line x Reader Genres : SMAU, Established Relationship, Comedy, Fluff Warnings : Nothing. Disclaimer: Please note everything said in this SMAU is purely jokes and is intended for entertainment purposes. It is not meant to throw any shade at any of the groups or individuals mentioned.
ᯓ★ Synopsis : Your boyfriend finds out that SEVENTEEN isn’t your favorite K-Pop boy group.
Pairing : Idol!Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x Reader. Genres : SMAU, Established Relationship, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Angst Warnings : Mention of Food.
ᯓ★ Synopsis : When Hoshi forgets a date with you—his long-time partner—with a selfie in the gym, all hell breaks loose on both online and off. Between tiger plushes, spicy tteokbokki, and a group chat that wants his head, Soonyoung has one chance to earn back your love (and tiger privileges).
── .✦ Tiger Down — Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) SMAU Series
«m.list»
Pairing : Idol!Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x Reader. Genres : SMAU, Established Relationship, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Angst Warnings : Mention of Food. Status : On-Going!
ᯓ★ Synopsis : When Hoshi forgets a date with you—his long-time partner—with a selfie in the gym, all hell breaks loose on both online and off. Between tiger plushes, spicy tteokbokki, and a group chat that wants his head, Soonyoung has one chance to earn back your love (and tiger privileges).
Pairing : Best Friend!Maknae Line x Reader Genres : Friends to ???, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Mild Angst Warnings : Mild Stalking/Unwanted Following, Cursing, Food Mention Word Count : 6.8K
ᯓ★ Synopsis : You separate from the friend group into the crowd with nothing but a casual promise of donuts, but when he notices you missing for way too long, panic rises fast. The moment he hears you say saying: “Hi, Babe!!” at him—your best friend—with a strange man following closely behind you, all he can think is to protect you first then ask questions later.
In the late afternoon, you had been walking with the boys—your friends, your chaotic bunch of thirteen—at the busy pedestrian festival showered with music, street food, booths lining either side of the road. You and the boys had been weaving between the food stalls and snapping photos for the memories. The air felt warm with the dusk casting orange hues across the sky, and laughter echoing in the background.
You had wandered off for just a second to chase after a pop-up donut truck you had spotted. Just for a moment. You briefly mentioned it to the group, so they were aware. It was just for a moment. A dumb decision, maybe, but the boys had been walking slow, and you were sure that you could find them again after. They are quite the loud bunch.
But except now, you’re alone.
The crowd has thickened.
Thus, currently you stood still for a moment, a paper bag of mini donuts in hand, scanning left and right. No familiar faces. No familiar laughter. No shouts of: “Y/N-yah, where’d you go?!” Their phone buzzes with a group message—someone had sent a meme. You reply with a quick: “Coming back rn lol,” but the reception is... well, in simple terms, shitty.
That’s when it happens.
A voice behind you.
Close.
A bit too close.
“Hey, you lost or something?”
You flinch—slightly—but smile politely as you turn. Your first instinct is to assume it’s nothing.
The man is maybe mid-thirties, dressed casually, with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s something about his posture… too relaxed, like he’s been watching you longer than just now. You don’t want to assume the worst possible situation, but something about this man stood before you.. doesn’t feel right.
You shift your weight, trying to angle away without being obvious. Maybe, it’s because you’ve been hanging out with the boys over and over who have been nothing but gentlemen with a sprinkle of chaos in-between. But perhaps that’s why you don’t feel comfortable with this man..?
It seems as though he’s just trying to help.
Maybe you’re just overthinking things..
“You okay there?” he asks again, stepping into your space a little too confidently. “You look like you could use some company.”
Nevermind.
Your fingers curl tighter around the paper bag. Shit, leaving the group for these donuts wasn’t the best idea—should’ve taken at least one of them with you. You try to keep your voice light as you muster up a reply.
“No, I’m good. I’m meeting someone.”
“Really?” His gaze dips briefly—too briefly—to the donut bag that you have clenched in your hold, then back to your eyes. “Didn’t see you with anyone.”
Fuck.
Your smile drops slightly. That tone…
Not friendly.
Not curious.
Just challenging.
Testing.
You take a step back. He matches it forward.
Ah, shit.
“You sure? I’m just saying—pretty one like you, out here all alone? Dangerous world.”
The tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. It felt uncomfortable, it felt invasive, it felt suffocating.
“How about you come with me?”
That’s when your stomach flips. The wrong kind of fear starts to bloom—slow, creeping, sour. You glances past him—people everywhere, but no familiar faces. No tall frame of Mingyu towering over the crowd, no bright blonde hair of Seungkwan bouncing above heads, no quiet presence of Wonwoo anchoring you. Just strangers. Everyone busy with their own moments.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You fake a laugh, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, scanning again. Then suddenly, you see it. You see something in the distance—someone familiar. At least, you hope. You hope to everything that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. You don’t try to doubt it for a second before you start speed walking.
The guy follows.
“I didn’t mean to freak you out, sweetheart. C’mon, you’re being a little rude now, don’t you think?”
Nope.
Nope, no thank you. This isn’t just creepy. This is wrong. Your heart is racing faster now, breath hitching—and still, you don’t want to cause a scene. Doesn’t want to draw attention. Doesn’t want to be that person.
And then—you see him. One of the boys. One of your boys. Just a few feet ahead. His back turned.
Relief punches through your chest like a gasp of air after being underwater. Thank goodness, your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You don’t think, don’t plan. You only had one thing on your mind:
Help.
You just walk faster, almost running now, weaving through people.
The creepy guy keeps following, still muttering something—something about you being stuck-up, something about just being nice.
And then you finally reach your best friend. Your lifeline. Your other half. You quickly rush up, and in the most sugar-coated voice you can muster:
“Hi, babe!!”
You say like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like you’ve been dating for years. Like nothing is wrong.
But your whole body is tense. Your smile is trembling.
Now it’s up to him.
⭑.ᐟ Xu Minghao (The8)
The late afternoon sun shed light on the street market, coating everything in this orange. Around him, the other SEVENTEEN members went from vendor to vendor, laughing, tossing snacks into one another’s baskets, teasing Soonyoung about dropping his tteokbokki stick.
Minghao stood a little apart, quietly observing with his arms loosely folded as he leaned against a post near a wall of kimbap samples. His sunglasses rested low on his nose, not really doing anything for the sun—but they made it easier to watch without being obvious.
Chan and Seungkwan were mock-arguing about yakult. Jeonghan was bargaining dramatically with a kid for a Pokémon plush. Joshua had somehow wandered into a pottery stall and was chatting with the elderly owner like they were long-lost friends.
Somewhere nearby, someone was playing mellow jazz on a portable speaker. The air smelled like fried dough and incense.
It was calm. Comfortable.
“Where’s Y/N?” he asked, casually, to no one in particular.
Vernon glanced up from where he was comparing drinks. “Said they were going to buy donuts. They mentioned it to me like ten minutes ago. They went that way.”
Minghao paused. His gaze flicked toward the direction Vernon pointed—a crosswalk, a few fruit stalls, a crowd he couldn’t quite see through. Minghao’s gaze flickered subtly toward the donut stand across the street.
Nothing.
Ten minutes.
For donuts?
Ten minutes was long.
He didn’t say anything out loud. Just slipped his phone out, checked for any messages. None.
That… strange tension began to coil in his stomach. The kind that said something isn’t right.
He didn’t say much else.
Instead, he stepped closer to Jun and murmured, just loud enough to be heard, “I’m gonna check on Y/N.”
Jun didn’t question it. “Okay. Want me to come?”
Minghao shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll be back soon.”
Then he turned, hands in pockets, and started walking.
Calm, deliberate steps.
It wasn’t panic—Minghao didn’t panic—but he moved with the same quiet urgency as a ripple beneath still water.
He moved through the crowd like a shadow with smooth, fluid movements, not drawing attention. His steps were steady, even-paced. He scanned around as he walked. His eyes darting between vendors, watching body language, looking for a familiar outline in the crowd.
He passed an alleyway.
Nothing.
Passed a small stand selling glass phone charms.
Not there.
A group of girls paused to take selfies under a cherry blossom mural.
Still no sign.
Something wasn’t sitting right.
Minghao stopped at the corner of the crosswalk, letting the stream of people pass him. His jaw clenched—just slightly.
He retraced your likely path in his mind: you probably cut through the east row of stalls, went toward the donut cart with the purple umbrella. It had the best prices and you liked the owner.
He started walking again, faster this time.
Then—
There.
He heard your voice.
Louder than usual. Too loud.
“Hi, babe!!”
His entire body stilled for half a second.
‘Babe’?
That wasn’t your usual vocabulary—not even as a joke.
His eyes snapped to the sound and locked in immediately.
You were there, walking towards him stiffly behind you, was a man in a tan jacket. You had one hand curled around the donut bag, the other hanging awkwardly by your side as you walked. Your body was tense, like you didn’t know whether to bolt or walk awkwardly to him.
He knew exactly what you were doing.
Distress signal.
Your eyes found his over the heads of the crowd.
That’s all he needed.
Minghao moved.
He didn’t break into a run.
He didn’t need to.
The seconds it took to reach you were deceptively slow—as if the rest of the world blurred away and all he could hear was the distant clinking of wind chimes and the rustling flap of a street banner above them.
“There you are,” Minghao said smoothly, stepping in, as if you two were just meeting up.
His voice was low.
He didn’t look at you at first.
He looked at the man.
Then, deliberately, he placed one hand on your back. His palm rested lightly, just enough to be seen. It wasn’t possessive.
Just unmistakably clear.
“Did you need something?” he asked the man in a tone so calm, it was almost disarming.
The man blinked.
His posture shifted—confused, maybe thrown off by the fact that Minghao wasn’t raising his voice, wasn’t glaring. Just staring. With a sharp, elegant kind of precision that felt impossible to look away from.
The man stiffened, surprised by Minghao’s sudden presence. “I was just talking to them, man. They didn’t say anything.”
“And now, I’m talking to you,” Minghao said, head tilting just slightly. “So, do you need anything?”
There was no raised voice. No overthreat. Just precision.
Calm, but cutting.
Like a scalpel.
The man faltered. His brave front cracked—just a small amount, but enough.
“Or were you just leaving?” Minghao added, softer.
The man’s eyes darted. He stammered out something incoherent about ‘just chatting’ and ‘didn’t mean anything’ and started backing up without another word.
Minghao didn’t even nod.
He just turned fully to you once the man was out of sight, his hand still resting lightly on your back.
“Are you alright?”
You nodded, exhaling finally. Your shoulders dropped a little.
“…He just kept talking. And I couldn’t get him to stop without causing a scene.”
He met your eyes.
“You’re allowed to cause scenes,” he said simply.
You smiled weakly, a bit dazed.
“I was getting donuts. Then he followed me for, like, half the street.”
Minghao didn’t speak immediately.
Instead, he opened his phone again. Tapped around. Held it out.
“Here. Share your location with me.”
You looked down. Then back up.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he said plainly. “Don’t argue.”
You hesitated. But you tapped your phone to his and accepted.
A long silence followed. Not awkward. Just… thoughtful.
Then, softly, you whispered:
“…You didn’t even blink when I called you ‘babe.’”
Minghao glanced sideways at you, a faint quirk at the corner of his mouth.
“I blinked,” he replied. “Internally.”
That made you laugh. Quiet. Warm.
“If it helps you feel safe,” he added, his voice dipping low, “You can call me whatever you want.”
You looked at him—really looked—and for the first time that day, some of the tension left your face.
“…Even Mr. Teatime?” you teased, voice light.
Minghao gave you a blank look. “Don’t push it.”
But then he took the donut bag from your hand and gestured for you to walk back.
He didn’t take his hand off your back for the entire walk.
⭑.ᐟ Kim Mingyu
The air is warm and full of music with some indie band plays offbeat covers on a small wooden stage, the scent of grilled meat, roasted chestnuts, and fried dough swirling through the crowd. SEVENTEEN was scattered, all half-yelling over one another, bickering in three directions about whether to go find the fortune teller booth or stick to the food stalls.
“I’m serious, I saw a place with tarot cards—” Seungkwan insists.
“I saw a place with hot dogs,” Soonyoung counters, already walking away.
“Both of you shut up and look at my duck hat!” Chan cackles, spinning around with the new purchase perched proudly on his head.
Mingyu laughed, wiping powdered sugar off the tip of his nose where Vernon just flicked a beignet crumb at him. “Dino, that thing makes you look like a traffic cone.”
“Better than Jeonghan-hyung’s cat ears,” Dino fires back.
“I make everything look good,” Jeonghan says, without even looking up from his mirror compact.
It’s only maybe ten minutes later, someone shouts about finding takoyaki, someone else is negotiating bubble tea toppings—that Mingyu’s eyes sweep over the group and land on a very distinct you-shaped absence.
He frowns.
“Wait… where’s Y/N?”
“Didn’t they go for donuts?” Woozi says, finally looking up.
“Yeah, but that was—” Mingyu checks the time. That was ten minutes ago. His chest tugs, not quite alarm, but a ripple of unease. “I’ll go check.”
“Want me to—?” Dokyeom starts, but Mingyu waves him off gently.
“I got it. Probably just stuck in line or something. I’ll bring them back.”
He ducks out of the mess of boys, weaving between crowds and neon stands, scanning for a familiar silhouette with a bag of donuts. He passes children waving light-up wands, a guy juggling with too many glowsticks, a stand selling fried squid, and—
Nothing.
No sign of Y/N.
The festival noise fades to a muted thrum in his ears, tension building low and slow in his spine.
He tried not to panic. Tried to tell himself you were fine. You were smart. Careful. You had a good head on your shoulders—
But it didn’t matter. The idea of you alone in this crowd made something ancient in him stir. A quiet, animalistic need to find.
He walked fast, head on a swivel. Checked every donut cart. Searched every corner of the side street. He even paused at a churro stand, peeking through the glass.
Where would you go?
He checks the edges of the crowd now, closer to the street vendor fringe, where foot traffic thins and shadows lengthen. His shoulders are squared, steps long.
He paused for a moment near a booth selling mini pancakes, trying to slow his heartbeat, when he heard it—
“Hi, babe!!”
His heart skipped. Whipped toward the sound.
Your voice. Too cheerful. Too forced.
And then he saw you.
He saw you walking fast, one hand holding a paper bag, the other tightening around your arm. Your eyes lock on his, and relief floods them—but there’s something else under the surface.
Behind you, a man is trailing just a step too close.
Older.
Taller.
Someone who wasn’t just a stranger passing by.
Mingyu doesn’t hesitate, moving without even thinking.
He walks straight to you, expression softening only when he reaches your side. “Hey, baby,” he murmurs gently, the endearment slipping out like a warm blanket, hand rising to cup the back of your head as he tucks you into his chest.
The second you were close enough, you were practically collapsed into his chest. The donut bag squished between you two.
You exhale—quietly—but he feels it against him.
That’s all he needs.
His hand cradled the back of your head, pressing you protectively to his front as he turned—blocking the man completely from your view.
Then, his eyes shift past you.
The man pauses, clearly realizing Mingyu’s size now that they’re face to face.
“Do you need something?” Mingyu asks, low and sharp, the sound reverberating from somewhere deep in his chest.
He towers over him, not doing anything over the top—no fists raised, no snarling. Just sheer presence. The kind of danger wrapped in politeness that makes your instincts scream even when the man’s smiling.
The guy stammers something unintelligible and bolts, disappearing back into the noise of the festival.
Mingyu doesn’t move until he’s sure he’s gone. Then he pulls back slightly to look at you. His hands checking you over without asking. Not panicked—just thorough. Gentle.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” he murmurs, brushing some stray hair behind your ear. “Did he touch you? Say anything weird?”
“No,” you whisper, a little shaky. “No… I just—he followed me after I bought these and wouldn’t stop talking. I got scared.”
“Shit,” he says softly, brows knitting together. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come sooner.”
You shake your head. “You came right when I needed.”
Mingyu closed his eyes for a moment. One long breath in. Then out.
“I’ll find him,” he muttered, every instinct screaming for him to go back.
But you gently tugged his hoodie.
“You don’t have to.”
He looked at you again. Your fingers trembling around the donut bag. The soft furrow in your brow.
His anger dulled into something more protective. He tightened his hold around you again, resting his chin gently atop your head.
“I’m never letting you go anywhere alone again,” he says, then adds quickly, “Except the bathroom. But even then, I’ll be standing outside the door.”
You laugh, a little muffled in his shirt, and that’s when he knows you’re okay.
He takes the donuts from you, holds it in one hand, and threads your fingers together with the other.
“Let’s go back,” he says gently, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Before Seungkwan eats all the takoyaki out of spite.”
“…He absolutely would,” you mumble.
And hand in hand, hearts steadied, you head back toward the chaos that always waits with open arms. Mingyu doesn’t let go the entire way.
⭑.ᐟ Lee Seokmin (Dokyeom)
The night market festival was loud—exactly the kind of chaos Seventeen thrived in.
A mix of sizzling street food, traditional drum performances, LED balloon vendors, and Jeonghan trying to barter for a fake sword while Seungkwan and Chan screamed at him not to. Mingyu had already spilled sauce on three shirts—none of which were his, and Vernon was currently very earnestly discussing the philosophy of cotton candy with a vendor who looked five seconds away from closing the stall just to escape him.
Amid it all, Seokmin stood in the middle of the group, grinning like a kid on a sugar high, pink bunny ears blinking on top of his head—a prize you had won from a game and immediately plopped onto him.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.
Then chaos struck: Joshua accidentally knocked over a shaved ice, knocking into Jihoon, who spilled his drink onto Seungkwan white pants. Seungkwan shrieked like he’d been stabbed, which drew an audience, which meant Soonyoung started playing it up like it was a live drama—
And Seokmin?
He blinked through it all, smiling, until a sudden pang ran through his chest.
Something was off.
He glanced around, eyes scanning the crowd, but no familiar figure was nowhere in sight.
You had briefly told him that you had wanted to get donuts, while the group was walking past the stand. Truthfully, he didn’t think much of it as you always found your way back to them. He had even offered to come along with you, but you declined.
“Hyung,” he murmured to Seungcheol, who was now scolding Jeonghan for accepting a stranger’s bet on how long he could balance on a stall’s edge.
“Yeah?” Seungcheol turned.
“Can you hold my drink?”
“You need to use the restroom?”
“I’m gonna go find Y/N.”
“They’re not back yet?” Seungcheol furrowed his eyebrows, blinking. “You want me to come?”
“Nah, just hold the fort.” Seokmin offered his usual sunshine smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “I’ll be quick.”
And with that, he weaved into the crowd.
The street was packed—laughter, music, kids running around with glowing cotton candy, couples taking blurry selfies under the lantern lights. He passed skewers, candied fruit, masks, fans, even a live painting booth.
But no you.
He jogged down the row of stalls, peeking between crowds and spinning pinwheels and fog from steamed buns.
“…Y/N?” Seokmin called softly, trying not to draw attention. “Y/N, where’d you go…?”
He started moving faster, eyes flicking over each corner. He felt his heartbeat quicken with every turn, yet no sign of you anywhere.
Then, in the blur of bodies and colors—
“Hi, babe!!”
The voice came out of nowhere—so loud, so sudden, so yours.
Before he could even react, something collided into his chest.
He stumbled back half a step.
“Y/N—?!”
You wrapped your arms around him in a tight, panicked hug, face burying into his neck like you’d done it a thousand times before. Your fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt with no hesitation, and the movement was so fast, so natural, it caught him completely off guard.
A bag hit the ground by your feet.
Donuts.
You had dropped it.
His arms went around you on instinct, “Woah, woah, hey—Y/N?” But his eyes were darting past you, confused.
That’s when he saw him.
A man, walking briskly behind you, clearly not a vendor, clearly not a lost tourist. His eyes were sharp, face smug, the kind of smirk that made Seokmin’s stomach flip. He looked annoyed that you had stopped. Annoyed that you’d run. Like you had interrupted something he thought he deserved.
And you had come running the moment you saw him.
“Ah,” Dokyeom said under his breath. The warmth dropped from his voice instantly. His grip on you tightened.
His entire body shifted.
There was a beat—something cold and sharp in his chest—before Dokyeom pulled you slightly behind him, still holding you close but stepping in front now.
You didn’t need to explain.
Not yet.
He could tell.
The man’s pace slowed. He took a step forward like he was going to say something.
Still smiling, Seokmin turned to face the guy.
“You need something, hyung?” His voice was light. Friendly. But his hand didn’t move from your back, and there was something in his eyes that had gone cold.
The man blinked. Seokmin smile didn’t fade—if anything, it grew just a bit wider.
The guy took a step back.
“Did you follow them here?” Seokmin asked, tone light—but his face didn’t match. His shoulders were squared now, jaw tight, every inch of him alert.
“I—”
“—You shouldn’t be following people,” Seokmin cut in, voice like steel now. “Even if you think they’re alone. And this one? They’re not alone, they never are.”
The man’s confidence wavered. Something in Seokmin’s eyes must’ve warned him not to push it.
The man scowled faintly but didn’t dare say anything. He muttered something under his breath and disappeared into the crowd.
Only then did Seokmin finally look back at you—and the smile dropped.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, gently cupping the side of your head. “Did he touch you?”
You shook your head.
“Hey,” he said gently, softening. “You okay?”
You didn’t say anything—just nodded, barely.
Seokmin crouched a little to see your face, his hands cupping your cheeks.
“You ran straight at me,” he said, trying to lighten the air again. “Didn’t even hesitate.”
You blinked, eyes wet. “I saw you and I—.. I didn’t think. I just… I wanted to be next to you. Just wanted to be safe..”
A warm breath left his lips. His smile was small, but full of something fierce and fond and aching.
“You were perfect,” he murmured. “You did everything right.”
Your arms slowly wrapped around his waist again, grounding yourself.
Then you looked down.
“My donuts…”
Dokyeom looked too—the bag had splattered onto the concrete, ruined.
“Ah, no…! Your favorite ones?”
You gave a tiny, pitiful nod.
“Well then,” he said, straightening up, slipping his arm around your shoulders, “Guess I’m taking you back and making Coups-hyung buy you a hundred more.”
“..He’ll say no.”
“Yeah, but I’ll guilt him with the full story.”
You laughed faintly, sniffling.
Seokmin squeezed you close and whispered into your hair, “Next time, I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumbled.
“You’re never a bother,” he said immediately. “As long as you’re safe, that’s all I care about.”
Your head tilted up.
He smiled, soft and wide and true.
“C’mon. Let’s go tell the others you just heroically survived a villain arc.”
⭑.ᐟ Boo Seungkwan
The festival was loud—just the way Seungkwan expected it.
Neon fish lights dangled above, the smell of fried squid and honey tteok filled the air, and someone was butchering a K-pop song at the karaoke booth so horrendously he genuinely considered calling emergency services.
“I swear, if they hit one more flat note, I’m throwing myself into the goldfish tank,” he said. “And I’m dragging you two with me.”
“You’ve been dragging us for the past hour,” Jihoon muttered.
He’d been mid-rant about it to Vernon and Jihoon, dramatic hands flying in all directions, when he realized something.
“…Wait. Where’s Y/N?”
Vernon blinked. “They went to get donuts, right?”
“That was like—what, twenty minutes ago?” Jihoon frowned, checking the time.
Seungkwan’s eyes darted down the street, scanning past the vendors and the families and couples crowding the walkway. “Okay, they’re a slow eater. Maybe they stopped to people to watch. Or talk to a pigeon. Or dramatically pretend they’re in a music video. All very Y/N things.”
But even he didn’t believe his own words.
He was already stepping back. Already handing his drink to Vernon with a rushed, “Okay. Hold this, I’m going to look.”
“Should we come with—?” Woozi asked.
“No, no—just stay here in case they come back!” Seungkwan called over his shoulder.
He adjusted his hoodie, turned, and made his way into the crowd.
It didn’t take long.
Just a few turns down the stalls.
He was moving fast, eyes scanning, mind racing—because you were Y/N. You weren’t reckless. You wouldn’t just vanish for fun. He knew you.
Something about this didn’t sit right.
Then he heard it.
“Hi, babe!!”
What.
Before he could even process the voice, something collided into him at full speed.
“—Wha—?!”
Arms wrapped around his waist. A familiar weight pressed into his chest. His entire body rocked back half a step.
He looked down—and there you were.
Y/N.
Face hidden. Arms tight. Clutching him like he was an anchor and you were drowning. Then you immediately went behind him, as if you were trying to minimize your size and disappear right then and there.
“Y/N—?” he stammered. “Wha—You—okay?! You dropped your—”
He blinked down at the ground.
Scattered.
A crushed bag.
Icing on the pavement.
“…Donuts,” he whispered solemnly.
But you weren’t moving.
You were holding onto him like your life depended on it.
And in that exact moment, Seungkwan felt it—not the drama, not the chaos—but the shift.
Something wasn’t right.
His back stiffened. His arm pulled in front of you, protective, steady. And he glanced up—
And saw him.
The man.
About ten feet away. Standing in the middle of the path, like he had been following you. Like he wasn’t expecting you to bolt. His expression was twisted—part smug, part annoyed, like he thought he had a right to catch up to you. Watching. The kind of watching that made Seungkwan’s blood boil. Didn’t like how calm he looked.
Like he thought you belonged to him.
Oh, hell no.
“Is that why you ran up to me like we’re in a drama?” Seungkwan whispered low over his shoulder, still extending an arm in front of you.
You nodded against him, a tremble in your breath.
He exhaled sharply, his brain catching fire with protectiveness and rage.
And then, in the most dangerously sweet tone he could muster, he looked straight at the man and said, “Hi, sir. Can I help you?”
The man blinked, like he wasn’t expecting to be addressed.
“Oh, sorry,” Seungkwan continued, his tone biting underneath the syrup. “Are you lost? Because if you take one more step toward my partner, you’re gonna have problems.”
The man scoffed. “They weren’t even—”
“—Looking for you? Exactly. They weren’t.” Seungkwan’s voice dropped. “So unless you want to spend tonight explaining yourself to security, I suggest you back off.”
Either way, Seungkwan was still going to report this man.
The man hesitated.
One more step.
Just one more, and Seungkwan was about to make national news for violence by hanbok.
But the man turned. Grumbling something under his breath. Then disappeared into the crowd.
Seungkwan didn’t move until he was completely gone.
Only then did he shift his attention back down to you, his tone melting back into warmth.
“Hey. Hey, it’s alright now,” he murmured. “He’s gone.”
You didn’t say anything. Your grip had loosened slightly, but your face was still buried in his back.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently. “Did he touch you? Did he say anything to you?”
You shook your head, voice barely audible. “He was following. Talking a little. I ignored him. But then he wouldn’t leave.”
Seungkwan inhaled slowly through his nose.
“Good job,” he said softly. “Running to me like that? You were so smart. You okay? You feel safe now?”
You finally nodded.
“Hey,” Seungkwan reassured, lightening the mood, “You did good. Really good. Finding me like that? That’s some main character shit. Smart one.”
A small puff of breath left your lips—something close to a laugh, but tired.
“Wanna let go now?” he asked lightly, looking over his shoulder at you, holding the back of his shirt.
You looked up at him.
Then quietly shook your head.
His heart broke a little in his chest.
“..Do you wanna try hand-holding instead of clutching the back of my shirt?”
He felt your nod against his back.
“Okay,” he murmured, tingling your hands with his. “We’ll walk like this. I like the hand-holding. Makes me look even hotter.”
He glanced at you to see your reaction, expecting to see your eye-roll at his comment, but your eyes were drifted someplace else. He followed your gaze.
Then looked down at the tragedy on the floor.
“My donuts,” you whispered.
Seungkwan blinked. “Oh… those were the good ones too, weren’t they? Your favorite ones?”
You gave a little sniff. “I was gonna share them with you...”
“Y/N,” he said solemnly, “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
A tiny giggle escaped you. The kind that made his chest ache.
“Come on,” he said, gently brushing your hair back. “Let’s get you some water. Then I’m dragging Mingyu to buy you a mountain of new donuts.”
“Mingyu?”
“I’m not spending my money after all that trauma. You kidding?”
You laughed again, and this time it was real.
As he guided you gently through the crowd, his arm firmly around you, Seungkwan looked down once more and said:
“And next time, ‘babe’? I’m not letting you out of my sight. I will teleport to you if you aren’t by my side.”
“You don’t know how to teleport.”
“For you, I would learn.”
⭑.ᐟ Hansol Vernon Chwe
The sky was painted in hues of orange and lavender as the sun dipped behind the horizon, casting the summer festival in a warm glow. Laughter and music rang through the streets, kids darted between booths with skewers of fish cakes and candy in hand, and the scent of sizzling tteokbokki and fried squid filled the air.
SEVENTEEN was—naturally—causing a scene.
“Seungkwan, don’t throw the ring like a frisbee—!”
“It’s called technique, Minghao!”
“I’m just saying it’s suspicious that Shua-hyung won two giant plushies and I haven’t even gotten a single ring on a bottle,” Soonyoung whined, holding up his completely empty basket.
Joshua calmly balanced a ridiculous pink dolphin under one arm and adjusted his sunglasses. “God gives his toughest battles to his weakest soldiers.”
“YAH—!”
Vernon stood off to the side, sipping from a tall paper cup of iced plum tea, the condensation dampening his fingers. His cap was low over his eyes, but he watched with a quiet smile as chaos bloomed all around him. Chan was trying to teach Seokmin how to moonwalk and Jeonghan was attempting to steal corn dogs off everyone’s plates without paying for a single one.
It was only when Vernon checked his phone and realized over fifteen minutes had passed that his brows furrowed.
You should’ve been back.
He looked around—no Y/N in sight. Just Soonyoung aggressively bargaining with Joshua, and Seungcheol trying to stop so much chaos that was actively going on.
“Hey,” Vernon said, nudging Wonwoo, who was mid-bite of a sweet pancake. “I’m gonna go find Y/N. They said they were getting donuts.”
Wonwoo gave a slight nod. “Want me to come?”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ll text if it gets weird.”
And then Vernon slipped into the crowd.
He wandered through rows of street vendors and hanging lanterns, scanning every direction—passing booths selling everything from yakgwa to phone charms. At first, it was casual. You probably just got stuck in a long line. Maybe you stopped to pet a dog. Or maybe you—
Then he heard it.
“Hi, babe!!”
His head snapped up.
You were approaching fast, your pace somewhere between a casual walk and a beeline sprint. Your arms were full—a bag swinging with a box of donuts inside—but your voice was louder than usual, almost performative.
And your eyes—your eyes flicked up to meet his, and Vernon saw it instantly.
Fear.
Behind you?
Was a man.
Following you.
Without hesitating, Vernon moved.
He closed the distance in seconds, shrugging off his jacket as he reached you, draping it over your shoulders in one smooth motion. Then, with practiced calm, he reached up, pulled his baseball cap from his own head, and fit it gently over yours, tucking it low.
“Head down,” he murmured to you.
You obeyed instantly.
You let out a breath—not a word—and stepped behind him.
He angled himself between you and the man following you. No raised voice. No theatrics. Just silence.
The man in his seemingly late thirties, older, taller, despite the dimming light had slowed his steps.
Vernon stared him down. “You need something?”
His voice was low. Not threatening. Just flat.
The man glanced at Vernon, at you tucked behind him in a cap too big for your head, and something in his expression twitched.
“No, man. I—thought they were someone else.”
Vernon didn’t blink. “They’re not.”
The man opened his mouth, then closed it. And walked away.
Only after the stranger disappeared into the crowd did Vernon turn to see at you. Your hands were fisted in his jacket, your face still half-hidden beneath the cap he’d given you. You looked… small. He crouched down a bit to meet your eye under the cap.
He gently touched your arm. “Gone now.”
You nodded, but didn’t say anything.
He let out a slow breath.
“You okay?”
“…I think so.”
He glanced at you again. The way you were gripping the inside of his jacket, holding it shut like armor.
“You want to go find the others?”
You hesitated.
Then you shook your head.
“…Then we won’t,” he said. “Let’s just stay here for a second.”
You blinked at him.
He reached up and readjusted the cap on your head, tilting the brim a little lower to shield you even more.
“Did he touch you?” He asked, voice soft now, barely above the noise of the crowd.
You shook your head. Your fingers were trembling, so he carefully took the donut bag from your hands.
“They’re still warm,” he said, glancing inside. “You didn’t even drop them. Look at that.”
“I almost did,” you whispered.
“But you didn’t,” he said simply.
And you smiled—small, tired, but real—beneath the borrowed brim of his cap.
When they returned to the group, the rest of SEVENTEEN took one look at Vernon’s jacket on your shoulders, the hat on your head, and the quiet closeness between you—and no one said a thing.
Well.
Except Soonyoung.
He squinted. “…Did you two get married while we were arguing about what to eat?”
Seungkwan high-kicked Soonyoung.
Vernon didn’t answer. You just handed Joshua a donut and leaned into Vernon’s side, safe.
⭑.ᐟ Lee Chan (Dino)
The festival was alive and buzzing with color, lanterns swaying above them like fireflies caught in motion. Music thumped from a nearby dance stage, and the smell of grilled meat, popcorn, and sugar filled the humid summer air. Lights blinked, laughter rang out, and a group of thirteen young men moved through the chaos like a disorganized parade float.
Naturally, SEVENTEEN had split into factions:
Jeonghan and Seungkwan were whispering about sabotaging the other members’ orders and Woozi laughing at their plans. Seungcheol, Vernon, and Joshua were locked in a bitter ‘guess the flavor’ game over mystery drinks—which honestly isn’t going well in Joshua’s favor as the other two force him to swallow and Seokmin was clapping as he laughed, clearly out of breath.
Mingyu was a filming a TikTok with Wonwoo being the cameraman. Minghao and Jun were filming footage for a behind-the-scenes vlog that was probably 40% Soonyoung yelling in the background.
Speaking of Soonyoung—
Chan turned just in time to see Soonyoung nearly fall into a fountain. He could only shake his head—these were his useless hyungs. He glanced beside him, where Y/N had just been—only to see empty air.
Before he knew it—he was pulled into the chaos of SEVENTEEN.
And by the time he remembered the donut mission, ten… no, fifteen minutes had passed. Maybe more.
He glanced around.
Still no Y/N.
“Hyung,” Chan said, jogging over to Seungkwan, who was currently in a heated debate about whether or not it was possible to eat three hot dogs at once. “I’m gonna go find Y/N. They said they were getting donuts like twenty minutes ago.”
“They’re probably talking to a cat,” Seungkwan muttered. “You know how they are. Cats. Flowers. Weird balloons. A rock shaped like a heart.”
Chan was already leaving.
Chan ducked between a group of toddlers swinging glowsticks and a cluster of girls giggling over matching hanboks. He turned, scanning the crowd again.
Still no sign of you.
“Y/N!” he called, but it got swallowed instantly by the music. He tried your phone for the third time. Straight to voicemail.
He bit his lip, hard.
Every stall blurred past—his eyes flicked from face to face, searching. A man blocking the view to the pastry table. A woman in the same shoes—no, not you. A flash of the same color clothing—not you either.
Dino’s pulse quickened.
He picked up pace.
Maybe he was overreacting. But there was a tightness in his chest, growing with every step. It was too easy for people to disappear in a crowd this size. Too easy to brush something off as nothing, until it wasn’t.
And then he heard it.
“Hi, babe!!”
His body reacted before his mind did.
Your voice in a bright, high-pitched, trying too hard.
He turned sharply.
And there you were.
Walking quickly in his direction, donuts in hand, and just behind you—
A man.
Older. Lean. Shadowed eyes and an energy that made the hairs on the back of Dino’s neck stand up.
He met your gaze for a split second and saw it all:
The flicker of unease.
The silent plea.
The trust that he would do something.
And he did.
Dino stepped forward without a word and met you halfway. He reached for you—gently, but firmly—wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in against his side, snug and protective.
He didn’t even look at you.
His eyes stayed locked on the man as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head—as if it was a normal occurrence between the two of you.
Calm.
Deliberate.
You sighed. Just a little. The tiniest sound of relief.
The man slowed.
Dino tilted his head.
“Can I help you, hyung?”
The man raised his hands as if in surrender. “Nah, man. Just got turned around.”
Dino didn’t blink. “Then you can turn around and keep walking.”
It wasn’t threatening. He didn’t raise his voice or square up. But something in Dino’s face—his stillness, the way he held you like something sacred, not to be touched—made the man look away.
He disappeared into the crowd.
Only then did Dino pull back slightly to look at you. “Are you okay?”
You nodded against him.
“Did he follow you long?”
“A few blocks,” you admitted. “I thought I lost him at the tteokbokki stand.”
“You did good, calling out.”
“I didn’t even think about it. I just saw you and panicked.”
“I’m glad you did,” he murmured. Then he grinned, soft and crooked. “You got the donuts, though.”
“They didn’t squish,” you said proudly, holding them up.
He took the bag from you and peeked inside, seeing more than one—there were at least thirteen more in there. “What are these ones..?”
“…For you and the rest of the boys.”
He smiled wider. “Then I’m definitely not letting you out of my sight again. Who else will bring us our favorites?”
You laughed, shaky but real. You leaned into his side a little more. “So what now?”
“Now,” Dino said, adjusting his arm around your shoulders like it belonged there, “We go back to the others.”
Pairing : Choi Seungcheol x Reader x Kim Mingyu. Genres : SMAU, Established Poly Relationship, Comedy Warnings : No Plot, CxM’s Name. (This deserves its own warning.)
ᯓ★ Synopsis : You find out your boyfriends, Seungcheol and Mingyu debuted as a new unit—CxM—without telling you.
Pairing : Idol!Boo Seungkwan x Reader. Genres : SMAU, Established Relationship, Fluff, Comedy Warnings : None.
ᯓ★ Synopsis : After a sudden layout change, a cryptic “healing era” tweet, and an unfollow that shook the fandom, everyone assumes Y/N and Seungkwan have quietly broken up. His vague Twitter post only confirms what fans already fear: the y/n and the boo are no more.
Series Tag List: @vernons-wifey12, @astro-doll-the-star, @dcrlingyou
── .✦ Confess or Die (Literally) — Wen Junhui (Jun) Oneshot
«m.list»
Pairing : Wen Junhui (Jun) x Reader. Genres : College AU, Mutual Pinning, Comedy, Fluff Warnings : None. Word Count : 2.4K
ᯓ★ Synopsis : When a TikToker corners you with a “Confess to Your Crush and Win $100” challenge, your already nervous heart is thrown into chaos. With a push from Minghao, you call your crush… Wen Junhui.
Truthfully, you weren’t expecting to be ambushed on a random Wednesday afternoon. You had just been walking across the campus quad with Minghao, talking half-heartedly about your art history lecture until.. a male with a brown hair with sunglasses and a mischievous smile stepped directly into your path. A camera hovered just behind him, attached to another student with blond hair and a head visor, wearing this sort of grin that said he’d witnessed this all before.
“Hi, hi!” the male said, sliding a tiny microphone toward you. “My name is Pi Cheolin, and this is my cameraman, Fe Dback.”
Minghao immediately perked up, his eyes glinting. He looked from you to the mic, then back, clearly already entertained. You, on the other hand, froze like a deer in headlights.
“Uh—hi?” You say weakly.
The blond-haired one with the camera—Fe Dback—spoke, his voice steadier than his friend’s. He shifted the camera slightly, lens trained on you.
“Before we begin, do we have your consent to be on camera?”
You froze.
Your glance slid to Minghao like maybe he had the manual for how to handle ambushes like this.
Whereas him, on the other hand, only raised his brows with the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Don’t look at me. It’s your face, not mine.”
“Yeah, thanks, very helpful,” you muttered, hugging your bag strap.
Fe Dback waited patiently, the kind of quiet presence that only made you more aware of the camera pointed at them.
You hesitated, bitting the bottom of your lip. “…What exactly is this for?”
“Campus interviews,” Pi Cheolin chimed in brightly, bouncing on the balls of his feet with the tiny mic in hand. “I’m a TikToker. Just some fun questions. Totally harmless.”
Minghao smirked, clearly entertained. “Harmless for them. Can’t say the same for you.”
You shot him a glare. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I’m just observing,” Minghao said, deadpan.
Cheolin leaned in closer, grin mischievous. “So? Consent granted? We can blur your face if you’re shy—or delete the footage if you want us too.”
“…” You sighed, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “…Fine. Just don’t make me regret this.”
Fe Dback nodded once, polite, already adjusting the focus. “Understood.”
Minghao elbowed you lightly, voice low. “Relax. It’ll be funny.”
You groaned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“And.. action!”
Cheolin leaned in, his energy bubbling over. “So, I have one question for you… do you have a crush?”
The question dropped like a boulder in your chest. Minghao snorted beside you, trying—and failing—to hold back a laugh.
“I… Wh–What?!” You stammered with your eyes practically shooting out of your eye sockets in pure, genuine surprise.
Campus interview, they said.
Just silly questions, they said.
Totally harmless, they said.
“It’s simple!” Pi Cheolin said. “You just say yes or no. Do you have a crush?”
Minghao nudged your arm with his elbow with a knowing look.
You could feel your pulse in your ears. Your eyes flickered toward the camera lens—its little red light blinking like an evil omen—and then back to the grinning TikToker.
Your throat felt dry.
God—
You couldn’t believe this was happening.
“…Yes,” you admitted softly, voice barely above a whisper.
Pi Cheolin gasped so dramatically, it looked like his entire soul had just leapt from his body. He nearly smacked the microphone against your chin. “Yes? Ohhh, this is perfect! Okay, okay, then here’s the deal.” He leaned closer, voice dropping like he was about to reveal national secrets.
“If you call your crush right now and confess your feelings, I’ll give you one hundred dollars,” he glanced at Fe Dback, who was already nodding behind the camera. “About 132,000 won. Enough for a date. What do you say?”
Minghao didn’t hesitate. He shoved you forward like a proud older brother tossing their kid sibling into a swimming pool. “Do it.”
Your jaw dropped. “Minghao!”
“What?” He shrugged, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Free money. And, like… your love life. Two birds, one stone.”
You groaned, running both hands through your hair. “This is insane. Absolutely insane.”
“Think about it,” Minghao added, leaning closer. “You get the man of your dreams—aka my best friend—”
“Minghao!!” you shrieked.
“And I get to stop hearing about your delusions!” He continued, completely ignoring your protests.
“Xu Minghao!”
“Pfft—” Fe Dback snorted behind the camera, which made you glance back at the lens. For a split second, you forgot you were on camera at all.
Pi Cheolin was already bouncing in place, mic hovering like dispatch. “So, will you? Right now? On camera?”
“…With speakers on?” You squeaked, voice trembling.
“With speakers on,” Pi Cheolin confirmed, grinning like he’d won the lottery.
“…Oh god.” Your stomach flipped violently.
The camera loomed. The world shrank to the size of your panic.
Minghao smirked, like he was thoroughly enjoying your impending meltdown.
With trembling fingers, you dug your phone out of your pocket. Your thumb hovered over the contact list. The name staring back at you:
Junnie 🐱
“Oh my god,” You whispered under your breath. “I’m going to regret this forever.”
Minghao leaned in, voice low and teasing. “Or it’ll be the best decision you’ve ever made. You do like him. Then go for it.”
Pi Cheolin gave a wild thumbs-up. “Fighting!”
“…This is so stupid,” You muttered, fingers shaking, but somehow pressed the call button anyway.
The phone rang.
One ring.
Two rings.
Your lungs felt tight as your pulse threatened to burst out of your chest.
Pi Cheolin was practically vibrating, bouncing in place. “Just do it!”
Three rings.
Then—
Jun picked up.
“Hello?” Jun’s voice. Calm, melodic. Like it always was.
Your stomach plummeted. Oh my god. You couldn’t do this. But it was too late to back out now. The line was already open, his voice was there—he was speaking to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers white-knuckling the phone.
“…H-Hey, Jun. Sorry to call randomly, I just—”
You flicked a frantic glance at Minghao. He mouthed: ‘Say it.’
Jun’s voice carried a faint concern. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah! Totally okay.”
That was a complete utter lie.
Everything was not fine.
Across from you, Pi Cheolin looked like he was about to burst out of his skin with anticipation, tiny mic hovering like a sword. You swallowed hard, lowering your gaze.
“Sorry for calling all of a sudden,” You mumbled.
“Mhm, no, it’s okay,” Jun said smoothly.
You exhaled through your nose, throat tight. “…Do you want to get dinner?”
“Yeah.”
Just like that. Effortless. His response made the air leave your lungs in one shaky gust. Relief washed over you, not even realizing you’d been holding your breath. It wasn’t even a proper confession, but damn—it was something.
Minghao nudged your arm again, hard enough that you almost dropped the phone. He gave you a look that said: ‘Don’t you dare stop here.’
You sent him a pleading stare. Minghao’s only answer was that sharp, unwavering encouragement in his eyes.
Your voice trembled, stumbling over your words when you tried again. “I’ve… been interested… in, um… well…”
Jun’s hum on the other end was low, curious. “Oh? Mhmm?”
In the corner of your eye, Minghao was smirking like he’d already bought front-row tickets to this disaster. But none of that mattered.
Because Jun’s tone—
Jun’s tone sounded like he knew.
Like he was amused, but waiting.
Like he wanted you to stop circling and say it.
“…”
Your breath caught.
“Interested in what?” He prompted gently.
“…In you, Jun.”
The silence that followed stretched. It felt endless, like the whole campus had gone still just to watch you burn.
Your pulse thundered in your ears. You squeezed your eyes tighter, gripping the phone like it was the only thing solidifying you to the earth.
Then—
Jun’s laugh.
His laugh.
Soft. Surprised, but warm.
“You finally said it.”
Your eyes snapped open. “W-What?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to admit it,” he said, and his voice was threaded with fondness. “Dinner sounds perfect.”
Cheolin nearly exploded on the spot, muffling a squeal into his fist. Minghao grinned like a happy frog.
But all you could do was cover your face with your free hand, cheeks burning, heart rattling in your chest.
Jun’s voice dipped, quieter, as if the rest of the world didn’t matter. “I like you too.”
The line was still open. Pi Cheolin was practically vibrating, he was bouncing on his heels like he’d just witnessed history. Fe Dback’s camera whirred softly, recording every second. But you barely noticed any of it. Your chest felt impossibly light, like you could float away, and the impossible had just turned into yes.
“Oh my god—…uhm, I— oh god, I’ll talk to you later…?” Your voice trailed off, trembling, your heart pounding at what felt like seventeen miles per second. You could hear it echoing in your ears.
Jun laughed softly.
His laugh.
That soft, warm sound that always seemed to make the world slow down. It made everything feel unreal.
“Mhm,” he said. “I’ll call you tonight so we can talk more about our dinner plans.”
“O—Okay,” you squeaked, your hands clenching the phone like it was a lifeline. You wanted to dig a hole six feet deep and hide inside. Pure embarrassment.
Jun chuckled again, teasingly. “You sound like a nervous little mess.”
“I—uh… I might be,” you admitted, your cheeks flaming hotter than the sun.
Jun’s voice softened. “It’s kind of cute, actually.”
Your stomach twisted. “I’m sorr—”
“You did fine,” Jun interrupted gently, and there was that smile in his voice again. “Really.”
You swallowed, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. “O—Okay…”
“Alright,” Jun said, still chuckling. “Okay, bye bye. I love you.”
“…Hm… love you too,” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.
The call ended.
You stared at your phone in disbelief, like it had transformed into some magical artifact. Minghao was grinning like he’d won the lottery, nudging your shoulder with a triumphant smirk.
Pi Cheolin was practically squealing. “Yes! And here’s your reward!” He shoved a crisp $100 bill into your hand like it was a medal for bravery.
You stared at the money, then at the camera, then back at Minghao. “I—.. W—What am I supposed to do with this?!”
“Buy dinner,” Minghao said, clearly amused. “With Jun. You know… the person who just made your heart explode.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is mortifying.”
“Mortifying?” Cheolin squealed, mic dipping dangerously close to your face. “This is content gold! Pure gold!”
“Shh!” you hissed, though your laugh cracked through anyway. Minghao was doubling over behind you, unable to keep a straight face.
You peeked at your phone again, heart still hammering. And there it was…
Junnie 🐱
Jun’s name on the screen, glowing like a promise. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard, itching to text him something clever, something smooth, something that wouldn’t make you sound like a total disaster.
But you couldn’t. Not yet. Not with your chest still buzzing, cheeks on fire, and Minghao practically bouncing from excitement beside you.
Instead, you just let yourself laugh, shaky and loud, letting the reality sink in: Jun said yes. You’re actually going on a date. And somehow—you got paid for it.
Minghao, leaning casually nearby, smirked at you, clearly savoring every mortifying second of your internal meltdown.
Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, trying to look neutral, but the smirk threatening to split his face betrayed him.
“It’s… Jun.”
You nearly choked on your own gasp.
Minghao held the phone to his ear and tried his best to suppress laughter. “Hello?”
“Hao!” Jun’s voice was full of excitement, loud enough to make you flinch. “They confessed! We’re going on a date..! Can you believe it?”
Minghao’s face was a study in professional restraint, the corners of his lips twitching. “I can believe it…” he said carefully, voice low and steady as he tried not to crack up entirely.
You peeked at him from the corner of your eye, noticing how impossibly smug he looked, and groaned, pressing your face into your hands. You couldn’t hear a single word that Jun was saying on his line, but judging by Minghao’s reaction—it was all you needed to know.
You peeked through your fingers. “I’m literally dying. Like, actually dead. Can someone save me?”
Minghao finally let out a small, contained chuckle into the phone, voice smooth. “Yeah… I know. You’re excited. Great. Awesome.”
You couldn’t even fathom what just happened.
“Yeah… me too,” Minghao said, struggling to keep his composure. “Enjoy your… dinner date. Tell me about it after. Mhm, talk to you later.”
You let out a shaky breath filled with both disbelief and relief, “I… I can’t believe I actually said it. And he said yes…”
Pi Cheolin was practically grinning into the camera, tilting the mic towards your direction. “You did a good job.”
“I didn’t know I had it in me,” you admitted, rubbing your temples.
“You survived,” Minghao said softly, nudging your shoulder. “Barely, but… you survived.”
You groaned, pressing your face into your hands. “Barely is putting it lightly. I think I need… a week. A month. A year to recover.”
Pi Cheolin ignored your dramatic collapse and pointed toward the camera. “No time for recovery. Youth is now! Look alive!”
“…I’m alive,” You muttered, voice muffled against your palms. “Barely.”
Pi Cheolin bounced, still mic in hand. “And you got the date and the money! What more could anyone ask for?!”
Fe Dback chuckled behind the camera, capturing every panicked, joyous moment.
Finally, Pi Cheolin turned toward the camera fully. With before ending the TikTok, his face held a grin that could make the sun jealous, he removed his sunglasses from his eyes, “Saranghae nunbit.”
You blinked, still processing. The camera was off, Minghao was still smirking, and your phone was glowing in your hands with Jun’s name. Somehow, amidst the chaos, screaming, and near-heart-attack panic… you had survived, confessed, been accepted, and maybe, just maybe, begun the first chapter of something beautiful.
Minghao nudged you again, voice teasing. “Go. Text him back. Plan your dinner. And stop hyperventilating in public.”
You exhaled shakily, letting out a laugh that was part relief, part disbelief. “I… Okay. Okay. I can do this.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you truly believed it.
ᯓ★ Synopsis : When Kim Mingyu’s 2025 Calvin Klein shoot drops without warning, you spiral between sincere love for your soft, golden-retriever boyfriend and feral thirst over the model who just broke the internet.
I really like your works! I really enjoyed your “Hi Babe!!” one and the Wonwoo one. It’s really good.
You seem really nice. Is it okay if I inbox you questions like fav SVT song? You can answer that if you want to. I don’t want to force you!!!!!
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HELLO???? WAIT MY FIRST ASK ｡°(°¯᷄◠¯᷅°)°｡
WAITTT IM SO HAOOY YOU LIKED THOSE ONES!!! I loved writing the downbad!Reader for Wonwoo’s so much. It’s def one of my favorites as I get to go all out. And the “Hi, Babe” concept had been ROTTING in my head and took awhile to write!! But I’m really happy to hear you enjoyed it!! ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ
Waaahhh thank you!! You seem so nice as well!! Thank you for inboxing me!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
My favorite SVT song ultimately as of currently is: Run to You. But my favorite one that I love to listen nowadays is: Bad Influence or Dino’s Solo, Wait. (๑>•̀๑)
Pairing : Idol!Boo Seungkwan x Reader. Genres : SMAU, Established Relationship, Fluff, Comedy Warnings : None.
ᯓ★ Synopsis : After a sudden layout change, a cryptic “healing era” tweet, and an unfollow that shook the fandom, everyone assumes Y/N and Seungkwan have quietly broken up. His vague Twitter post only confirms what fans already fear: the y/n and the boo are no more.
Series Tag List: @vernons-wifey12, @astro-doll-the-star, @dcrlingyou
The spring roll was def smth I had too much fun adding. There were so many other ideas that I had to put, but spring roll seemed like one of the more giggly ones. I’m so happy you liked it lololol ꉂ (≧ヮ≦)
Pairing : Idol!Boo Seungkwan x Reader. Genres : SMAU, Established Relationship, Fluff, Comedy Warnings : None.
ᯓ★ Synopsis : After a sudden layout change, a cryptic “healing era” tweet, and an unfollow that shook the fandom, everyone assumes Y/N and Seungkwan have quietly broken up. His vague Twitter post only confirms what fans already fear: the y/n and the boo are no more.
