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5, 4, 3, Pretty Woman

Pairing: idol!S.Coups (Seungcheol) × f!reader

Genre: Fluff, comfort, romance, established relationship

Word count: 2300

Trigger warnings: Self-image insecurity, mild emotional distress, soft physical affection, possible spoilers from “Pretty Woman” the movie.

Summary: A quiet movie night turns tender when Pretty Woman makes you see everything you’re not, and Seungcheol shows you everything you are.

A/N: i love Pretty Woman the movie and CxM’s 5, 4, 3, Pretty Woman, and of course i had to write something inspired by it. hope you’ll enjoy ☺️

MASTERLIST

The living room glows with the soft light of the TV, the kind of warmth that only comes from a night with no schedule, no deadlines, no alarms. The opening credits of Pretty Woman roll, and the familiar music fills the space.

You’re curled into Seungcheol’s side, your legs tangled under a shared blanket, his arm resting lazily along the back of the couch. It’s been weeks since you’ve both had time like this, no rehearsals, no meetings, no cameras. Just you, him, and a movie you’ve loved since forever.

He glances down at you when Julia Roberts’ laugh fills the room. “You really love this one, huh?”

You nod, smiling softly. “It’s a classic. She’s… perfect.”

Seungcheol hums, low and fond. “You say that every time.”

He leans back, eyes half on the screen, half on you. He looks so effortlessly at home in his sweatpants, hair still a little damp from his shower, skin warm against yours. You try to focus on the movie, but your eyes keep flicking to him, catching the way the glow of the TV paints his jawline in gold. He looks like someone out of a scene, too beautiful to be real, too close to look at for too long.

When the boutique scene plays, the one where Vivian is turned away, humiliated before her transformation, something tightens in your chest. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but tonight it hits differently.

Julia walks out of the shop, small and ashamed, only to return later radiant and unstoppable. Big mistake. Huge. The audience cheers. You’ve always loved that part. But tonight, it only makes your throat ache.

You think about how easily she transforms, how the world suddenly sees her differently just because she looks the part. And you think of Seungcheol, the world’s leader, the one everyone calls handsome, charming, powerful. The kind of man who could walk into any room and own it without trying.

And then there’s you.

You swallow the thought down, but it lingers. When Seungcheol reaches for your hand, you flinch, just slightly and he doesn’t seem to notice, too absorbed in the next scene.

A few minutes later, you mumble something about needing the bathroom and slip away before he can offer to pause the movie.

The light in the bathroom is harsh, bright, too honest. You grip the sink and look at your reflection.

There you are.

Your hair’s a little messy from the couch. The sweatshirt you’re wearing isn’t one of those sleek ones that look effortlessly cute, it’s just soft and worn. You look… fine. Normal. But the word pretty doesn’t feel like it belongs anywhere near what you see.

You think about the photos Seungcheol takes on tour, the way fans talk about him online, how he looks, how confident he is, how lucky you must be. And you are lucky, you know that. You just can’t shake the thought that maybe he deserves someone who actually looks like they belong beside him.

You hear laughter from the living room, the movie, not him, and your eyes sting unexpectedly. You blink it away, exhaling shakily.

The knock comes gently.

“Hey,” Seungcheol’s voice, soft through the door. “You’ve been in there for a while. You okay?”

You freeze. Your first instinct is to lie. “Yeah, I’m fine! Just…uh…hair’s a mess.”

He chuckles lightly, but there’s a pause. “Can I come in?”

You hesitate, then sigh. “Yeah.”

The door creaks open, and he appears in the reflection behind you, his expression shifting from curiosity to worry in an instant.

He takes in the scene without a word: you standing too still, hands gripping the sink, eyes avoiding your own.

“Hey,” he says again, stepping closer, voice low. “Talk to me.”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing, Cheol.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His reflection in the mirror meets yours, gentle, steady, patient.

Something inside you cracks.

“I just…” you start, the words trembling. “Sometimes I look at you and…” You cut yourself off, biting your lip. “And I don’t understand how you can look at me the way you do.”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

You exhale shakily. “You’re you. S.Coups. Everyone sees you and thinks you’re perfect. You’re handsome, confident, talented. And then there’s me. I don’t feel like…”, your voice wavers, “like I’m enough to stand next to you.”

The silence stretches. For a heartbeat, you can’t meet his eyes.

Then Seungcheol moves slow, deliberate. He steps behind you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him even before he touches you. His hands rest lightly on your shoulders, grounding you.

“Look,” he murmurs. “At us.”

You do. In the mirror, his arms slide around your waist, his chin dipping to rest on your shoulder. You see the two of you reflected back, not idol and fan, not stage and spotlight. Just him and you.

“Do you know what I see?” he asks quietly.

You swallow. “Probably not what I do.”

He shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I see the person who makes home feel like more than a place. Who listens when I’m too tired to talk. Who tells me when I’m wrong, and still cheers for me anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your shoulder, feather-light. “You think I need someone prettier? You’re the reason I even feel human after all that stage stuff. You’re the part that’s real.”

You blink, tears spilling before you can stop them.

“Cheol…”

He turns you gently in his arms, thumb catching a tear before it can fall further. His voice softens even more. “You know Pretty Woman isn’t about becoming beautiful, right?”

You sniffle, trying to smile. “Kind of feels like it, though.”

“It’s about someone realizing they always were,” he says. “And finding someone who finally saw it.” His gaze searches yours, earnest, unwavering. “You don’t have to change a single thing for me to see you.”

He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. Then another to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. Each one unhurried, reverent, like he’s reminding you wordlessly of every reason he loves you.

When he finally pulls back, his hand stays on your jaw, thumb brushing along your skin. “You’re enough,” he says, firm but tender. “More than enough. You always were.”

Your chest aches in that way it does when you’re overwhelmed with love, not the fluttery kind, but the deep, rooted kind that settles right behind your ribs.

You reach up, curling your fingers in the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t deserve you sometimes.”

He huffs softly, smiling. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing.”

You laugh, watery and quiet, and he grins like it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“Come on,” he murmurs. “Let’s finish the movie. It’s the best part.”

Back on the couch, he doesn’t bother with the blanket, he just pulls you into his lap, tucking you against his chest like it’s second nature. His fingers trace lazy shapes along your arm while the movie plays.

When the final scene fades to credits, you shift to look at him. The screen’s glow softens his features, and for a moment, you forget to breathe.

He notices. “What?”

“Just thinking,” you say. “You’d make a good Richard Gere.”

He grins. “And you’d make a better Julia Roberts.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “You have to say that. Boyfriend obligations.”

He tilts his head. “No, I really don’t.” Then his voice drops, quieter, sincere. “I say it because it’s true.”

You feel your heartbeat stutter, the kind of warmth that rushes up your throat, impossible to hide.

He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. “You know what’s prettier than Pretty Woman?”

You hum, smiling faintly. “What?”

“You,” he whispers, “when you finally believe me.”

For a moment, the world narrows to the space between your lips, to the way he’s looking at you like he’s memorizing every detail. When he kisses you, soft, unhurried, full of quiet promises, it feels less like a movie moment and more like a truth you’ve been waiting to hear.

When he pulls back, he’s smiling again, his thumb brushing your chin. “There,” he says. “Now you’re glowing.”

You laugh softly, leaning into his chest as the credits roll. His hand finds yours, fingers fitting perfectly together.

You think about Pretty Woman again, how it ends with a fairy-tale rescue. But sitting here, surrounded by warmth and the faint hum of the TV, you realize that Seungcheol didn’t rescue you. He just reminded you that you were never lost.

One of my favorite seventeen duos S.Coups & Mingyu are dropping an album together... that's my ✨ luck ✨ So of course I made a drawing of Hype Vibes! I feel like I will like the songs a lot 😭 and especially the title track 😭✨

#scoups #choi seungcheol #seungcheol #gyucheol #svt #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen #seventeen fanart #svt fanart #cxm #seventeen cxm #hype vibes

Lol🤣🤣even the camera staff being effected by Mingyu's bed eyes

everyone remembers what they were doing when they decided to drive us crazy with this a year ago. it's me, i'm everyone

#choi seungcheol #scoups #s.coups #kim mingyu #cxm #svt #seventeen #hype vibes