you call your boyfriend by his stage name as a prank. he does not like this.
[ warnings \ tropes ] idol au, fluff, est. relationship, boyfriend seungcheol, grumpy cheol, reader pranks him by calling him s.coups/coups, lots of kissing, pouting (mainly from coups), he's a whiner guys </3
[ saint's voice note ! ] still not happy with my icon selection but this fic is more important to you guys than it is to me so...we ball! we're also 59 followers away from 1k?? so there's that 😭😭 ANYWAYS enjoy! i love you and thank you for reading <3
[ saint's now playing... ] can't feel my face -> the weeknd
[ wc / writing for ] 1,022 / @kstrucknet @k-records
it all started when you thought to yourself how good of an idea it would be to prank your boyfriend after he got home from work.
"welcome home, coups." you greet seungcheol at the door, pecking his cheek as you take his things from his arms. he looks tired, but offers a cute smile to you anyways, pulling you in for a greedy kiss as he huffs afterwards.
seungcheol doesn't even seem to notice you're calling him by his stage name, and so you just smile, prancing off into the living room as he trudges behind you.
he finds a seat in the kitchen, sleepily climbing on top of a stool as he lets his head hit the counter. "rough day?" you question him, and he nods, groaning as he runs his hands over his tired face.
"very rough. choreographing for a solo i had no intention of dancing to is the worst thing ever." seungcheol whines, and you chuckle, throwing your head back as you glance at him to gage his reaction.
"you're just being dramatic, s.coups. lighten up! you always deliver when the fans want it," you turn your back to him to prepare the stove for dinner, but you can feel his dark brown gaze hot on your back. oh, you're definitely paying attention now, you say to yourself.
sure enough, when you turn around to put the cutting board down on the countertop, seungcheol's glaring at you like you've said a curse word in front of a bunch of kindergarteners.
"what?" you question innocently, even going as far to cock your head to the side in faux confusion. seungcheol's eyebrows scrunch slightly before he shakes his head, running a hand through his tousled hair as he shrugs.
"thought i heard you say something." he mumbles, annoyingly digging his phone from his pocket as the buzz of a phone call sounds off.
"not now, please," he says aloud, powering off the device before smacking it against the counter face-down. his head is on the marble again, cheek smudged against the surface as he glances up at you with those puppy dog eyes.
"what are you making, baby? already smells so good," seungcheol groans like a little baby, making you giggle as you throw the chopped vegetables into a bowl.
"some recipe i found on the internet." you reply, turning your back to him to put the vegetables in the pan and fry them in butter. "hey, coups, will you hand me the shredded cheese out of the fridge?"
the chair pauses mid-scrape just seconds after your question is posed, and seungcheol's burning holes through your head with his intent gaze. you turn around to meet him, feigning confusion once again as you speak. "what's wrong?"
"you keep calling me that." seungcheol says, and you laugh, shaking your head at him as if you're clueless. "calling you what? what are you talking about?"
"you've called me 'coups' twice now. you never do that." seungcheol says, dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his plump lips turn up in a pout.
"you're being silly. i haven't called you that at all! are you hearing things?" you combat his claims just as quickly as he brings t]hem up, and he just glances at you, silently fulfilling your request as he plops the bag of cheese next to the stove.
"thanks, s.coups." you peck his cheek, and he freezes in place, eyes widening just a fraction as he realizes what you've said.
"see! you just called me s.coups!" seungcheol points to himself, and you stare blankly at him, silent as he stares at you accusingly. he's towering over you now, not only tired and grumpy from his tiring work day, but now your constant 'slip-ups'.
"why are you calling me that? you know that's my stage name. when i'm off the clock, you know i want you to call me cheol. seungcheol, even. i just..." seungcheol trails off, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as he mumbles.
"i want you to call me by my real name. when i'm home, i'm yours. not carats, or anyone else's. just—just yours."
that makes your heart soften instantly, and you set your spatula down, taking seungcheol in for an embrace as you smile. "okay. i'm sorry for pranking you."
"it's okay, baby, i—" seungcheol pauses mid-sentence when he registers your words, and you can't help but laugh aloud at his reaction. "what? prank?"
"yeah! i thought i would prank you once you got home from work, and so i decided to call you by your stage name until you realized it." you explain, and seungcheol rolls his eyes, a small smile escaping nevertheless as he scrunches his face up at you.
"you little devil," he lowly teases, and you shrug pridefully, glancing over at him as you nod. "what can i say? you're all cute when you start confessing to me."
"god, ignore...ignore what i said earlier. if i knew you were pranking me, i would've—" seungcheol starts, and you stop him, stuffing hot vegetables into his mouth as he chews hurriedly.
"save it, cheol." you tease, gloating in the way his cheeks heat up so easily at the simple nickname. "we both know how soft you get when i call you by your full name."
"i hate you." seungcheol grumbles with a smile on his face as he kisses your neck, and you smile proudly, stirring the vegetables as his arms find their way around your torso, resting his head on your shoulder as you nod. "i love you too, seungcheol."
"okay, stop calling me that." seungcheol says, and you oblige for a second, more than ready to carry on the teasing. "right, s.coups. sorry."
"...never mind." the words are so quiet you can barely hear them, but you know seungcheol's blushing now, lips curving into a small smirk on your skin as he huffs a sigh. "i like seungcheol ten times better."
"me too." you nod, ruffling seungcheol's hair with your free hand as he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck even more.
Word count: 1.3K
Summary: “But you’re so huggable,” he murmured, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.
“Boss,” Wonwoo finally spoke, sounding both resigned and mildly entertained. “We were in the middle of something.”
“Yeah,” Vernon chimed in. “You were just threatening some guy’s entire bloodline, remember?”
Pairing: S.coups x reader
The name Choi Seungcheol carried weight. It was spoken in hushed whispers, feared by enemies, and respected by allies. He was the leader of the most powerful gang in the city—ruthless, cunning, and absolutely untouchable.
But when you walked into the room?
“Baby!” His entire face lit up like a lovestruck teenager, and his men immediately braced themselves for the inevitable shift in atmosphere.
Gone was the terrifying gang leader who could make a man disappear with just a look. In his place was a doting, borderline clingy boyfriend who had absolutely no shame in displaying his affection for you.
You barely had time to react before Seungcheol had crossed the room in long strides, sweeping you into his arms. “You’re finally here,” he sighed against your hair, holding you tight like he hadn’t seen you in months instead of a few hours.
From their spots around the room, his men exchanged knowing looks. Jeonghan rolled his eyes while Mingyu struggled not to laugh. “Here we go again,” Joshua muttered under his breath.
“Cheol,” you giggled, nudging him. “I’m literally right here, you don’t have to suffocate me.”
“But you’re so huggable,” he murmured, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.
“Boss,” Wonwoo finally spoke, sounding both resigned and mildly entertained. “We were in the middle of something.”
“Yeah,” Vernon chimed in. “You were just threatening some guy’s entire bloodline, remember?”
Seungcheol barely spared them a glance. “And? That can wait.” He pulled away just enough to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek with so much tenderness it was almost jarring. “Have you eaten today?”
Minghao sighed. “It’s like watching a tiger turn into a house cat.”
Seungcheol ignored them, waiting for your answer with absolute sincerity. You smiled, placing your hands on his chest. “I did, don’t worry.”
“Good,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
Meanwhile, the poor man who had been at the receiving end of Seungcheol’s threats was still tied to a chair, watching the entire scene unfold with pure disbelief. “Are we just going to pretend this is normal?” he blurted out.
Jun patted his shoulder. “Oh, you have no idea.”
The man tied to the chair looked around, completely baffled by the situation. One moment, he was about to wet himself under Choi Seungcheol’s glare—the next, the feared gang leader was melting into a doting mess over you, his entire demeanor softer than a marshmallow left in the sun.
“What the hell…” the man muttered, looking at the rest of the gang. “This ain’t normal.”
Jeonghan smirked. “Oh, it’s very normal.”
Joshua crossed his arms. “You just happen to be lucky enough to witness it firsthand.”
Before the man could fully process what they meant, Seungcheol finally turned his attention back to him. He still had one arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close as he regarded the trembling man with the cold indifference he was known for.
“Now,” Seungcheol said, his voice shifting from lovestruck to lethal in an instant. “Where were we?”
The man flinched. “Y-You were threatening to—”
Seungcheol sighed dramatically, resting his chin on your head. “You know, I was really angry earlier. But now that Y/N’s here, I’m feeling generous.”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Generous, huh?”
“Mhm.” Seungcheol’s fingers lazily traced patterns on your waist, and his men exchanged glances, knowing exactly what was coming. “I’ll let you decide what happens to him.”
The man’s eyes widened in horror. “What?! Why—”
“You should be thanking her,” Seungcheol cut him off with a smirk. “She’s the reason you still have a chance to walk out of here.”
You hummed in thought, tapping your chin as you pretended to contemplate. The man paled. He had no idea who you were, but the fact that you held this much sway over Choi Seungcheol meant you were just as dangerous.
Or worse—you were the weakness.
And Seungcheol was completely unashamed of it.
“I say let him go,” you finally decided with a smile. “I don’t think he’s brave enough to cross you again, right?”
The man frantically nodded. “Never! I swear!”
Seungcheol sighed, looking like he was only agreeing because you asked. “Fine.” He flicked his wrist, and Wonwoo moved to untie the man. “But if I see your face again, I won’t be so nice.”
The man scrambled to his feet the moment he was freed, bowing repeatedly before bolting out of the warehouse like his life depended on it.
Mingyu whistled. “That guy’s never gonna sleep right again.”
Seungcheol, completely unbothered, turned his full attention back to you, his smile soft. “You wanna get something to eat?”
“You were just interrogating someone,” Vernon deadpanned.
“And now I’m done,” Seungcheol replied smoothly. “Let’s go, baby.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine. But you’re paying.”
Seungcheol grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek before taking your hand and leading you out.
His gang stared after the two of you, shaking their heads.
“Absolutely whipped,” Minghao muttered.
“The scariest part,” Joshua said with a laugh, “is that he doesn’t even care.”
Seungcheol kept a firm but gentle grip on your hand as he led you out of the warehouse, completely unfazed by the stares of his men. He was Choi Seungcheol—the name that sent shivers down people’s spines, the leader who could crush his enemies without blinking.
And yet, here he was, grinning like a fool just because you agreed to dinner with him.
As you reached his car, he opened the door for you with an exaggerated flourish. “Your chariot awaits, my love.”
You gave him a look. “You just threatened a man’s entire existence ten minutes ago.”
“And now I’m taking my favorite person out to eat. I’m a man of many talents.” He winked before shutting the door behind you.
Once he slid into the driver’s seat, he reached over to buckle your seatbelt for you—something he always did, much to the amusement of his gang. He was perfectly capable of ordering people around to do his bidding, yet he insisted on personally making sure you were safe.
“You know, your guys are going to start thinking I have too much power over you,” you teased.
Seungcheol smirked as he started the engine. “Oh, they already do. And they’re right.”
You scoffed. “That’s dangerous for someone like you.”
He shot you a glance, his gaze fond but laced with something deeper. “Not when it’s you.”
The drive to the restaurant was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos that usually surrounded his life. Seungcheol made sure to keep one hand on the wheel while the other rested on your thigh, his thumb tracing idle patterns against your skin.
By the time you arrived, it was clear that Seungcheol had no interest in keeping a low profile. The restaurant—one of the most exclusive in the city—was filled with high-profile figures, some of whom stiffened the moment they spotted him walking in.
It wasn’t just fear—it was respect.
But Seungcheol didn’t pay them any mind. His entire focus was on you, pulling out your chair before taking the seat across from you. “Order whatever you want,” he said. “Not that I wouldn’t force the owner to make something off-menu if you asked.”
You shook your head with a laugh. “You really have no shame.”
“Not when it comes to you.”
The two of you settled into easy conversation, though you couldn’t help but notice how some people kept sneaking glances at your table—some out of curiosity, others in outright disbelief.
The Choi Seungcheol they knew was a terrifying force to be reckoned with. The man sitting across from you? He was currently pushing a plate toward you with a pout.
“Try this,” he insisted. “It’s good.”
“I have my own food, Cheol.”
“But this is better.”
You rolled your eyes but leaned forward to take a bite, much to his satisfaction.
Across the restaurant, a group of men who had been in very tense negotiations with Seungcheol earlier that week were watching in shock. One of them leaned forward.
“That’s him, right?”
“Yeah.”
“The same guy who almost shattered my kneecaps?”
“Yep.”
“...And he’s feeding his girlfriend like a lovesick idiot?”
“Apparently.”
“...Should we still be scared of him?”“Oh, absolutely.”
He wakes up covered in sweat, shaking, and utterly disoriented. It takes him a while to take in his surroundings. The plane's still humming along its journey across the sky. There's more noise coming from all around, the other passengers doing their own thing unaware of his both rising and ebbing panic. Mingyu shoots him a worried look.
Just a dream.
It hasn't happened.
You haven’t said those words. You haven’t broken up with him, out of the blue, but with conviction that could only stem from months or years of issues he failed to notice or address.
He’s still on the plane bound in your direction. Nothing that took place in his dream has happened. At least not yet.
His mouth feels too dry and his throat too tight. He uncaps the bottle of water almost fallen to the ground and takes a long sip. He still has time. There’s nothing he’d be able to do to immediately fix things if the issues went on for so long, of course, but he should be at least able to show that he cares. The dream feels like a wake up call. It’s better to trust the dreams, they never failed him. Even though some would say he’s reading too much into it, that it’s just stress and inevitable anxiety that comes with prolonged separation, Seungcheol knows better.
Once he lands, that same fear captures him in its grasp because he doesn’t see you there, waiting for him. Which is to be expected - it’s getting late, he told you not to come, he forbade you from coming. Still he barely remembers to say his goodbyes before getting the first taxi available and scouring the internet for a flower shop that’s still open and wouldn’t hinder his journey home too much.
He got lucky - the bouquet of roses carefully lies on the seat next to him. Unoriginal, Seungcheol knows, but he hasn’t given you roses in a long time so he hopes you’ll let it slide.
You open the door before he can let himself in, beaming at him. In your excitement, you barely stop yourself from jumping into his arms when you spot the flowers.
“Cheollie,” you sigh with a smile that he knows is fond but still it might easily be read as resigned as well by his racing mind, “You didn’t have to.”
“No, I did - I love you,” he smiles and pulls you closer anyway, holding the flowers safely aside, “And I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” you hum, planting a few kisses along his jaw, “All I have to offer in return is dinner, though. If you’re hungry.”
“For your cooking? Always,” he smiles. Seungcheol refuses to let you go.
“Not yet,” he whispers.
He holds you a little tighter and kisses the top of your head before finally setting you free after a minute that feels like the good kind of eternity.
It’s not new, or too unusual, but you still get flustered. Though you’d still write it off as Cheol being his usual clingy self, if it wasn’t for the other things.
The dinner is a simple dish you’ve cooked many times before, yet tonight your boyfriend keeps coming up with compliments to pay you. He honestly treats it like a Michelin star dish. Not to mention his hand is always reaching for yours and even though the situation could easily seem like a farce, it doesn’t. Not when the gratitude and awe genuinely reach his eyes.
He doesn’t let you touch the dishes, insisting on taking care of them himself. And when, after, you decide to just go to bed, he demands you let him help you with your night routine.
“What’s going on?” you finally sign and cup his face so that Seungcheol can’t run away from you. He wouldn’t even let you hop on the counter yourself, he had to put you there like you were too fragile to handle it on your own. He looks like a deer caught in headlights.
“I- uh,” he stammers, “Nothing. It’s nothing. Are you happy with me?”
You blink a couple times, blindsided by the sudden question.
“Yes, very much so,” you answer with a slight frown, “Did something happen?”
“Just a prophetic dream,” Seungcheol mutters, his faith suddenly not as strong once he’s admitting it aloud. Not when you get that concerned look on your face.
“Come again?” your frown deepens. He shakes his head with a small smile. You wouldn’t lie to him. But his brain definitely would.
“If you’re happy, then that’s all that matters,” he says as he takes your hands in his, “Tell me if there’s anything, anything, that bothers you, okay? Nothing is too small for you to have to endure it.”
“My boyfriend’s gotten crazy with longing,” you chuckle, leaning forward to kiss him, “I promise.”
“Good,” he whispers against your lips.
Even so he takes over skincare and everything you usually do. It makes your heart flutter that he still remembers on top of everything he has on his plate and the separation.
And although you told him everything’s fine, tried to drive the point home by more compliments and reassurance, he still carries you to bed and tucks you in before settling next to you.
And after everything, he still pulls you against his chest and holds you the whole night.
You stared at the phone screen, then at the man holding it up like he was presenting hard evidence in a courtroom.
"Seungcheol."
"You're ovulating," he said, as if you hadn't already read those exact words glaring back at you from his period tracker app.
"I know," you deadpanned. "It's my body."
"Yeah, and it's my job to take care of you," he countered, stepping into your apartment like he owned the place. "And I know you want me."
You folded your arms, watching as he locked the door behind him, kicked off his shoes, and started rolling up his sleeves like he was about to do serious work.
"That's a bold assumption," you muttered, ignoring the way your skin prickled at his confidence.
"Not an assumption," he corrected, gaze flickering over you as he took a step closer. "Fact."
You should have pushed him away. Should have scoffed and sent him right back out the door.
But then his hands were on your hips, pulling you flush against him, and—
Your body betrayed you.
Your breath hitched.
His smirk was damn near smug.
"See?" His voice dipped, low and knowing. "You're already soft for me."
Your fingers curled into his shirt, half a mind to shove him, half a mind to pull him closer.
"You tracked my cycle," you accused, because it was easier to pretend you were scandalized than to admit how much it turned you on.
"Of course I did." He kissed your jaw, slow and teasing. "I like knowing what you need before you ask for it."
Damn him.
Damn him for knowing you so well.
For watching you, for studying you, for committing every little detail about you to memory—your moods, your habits, your cravings, the way you needed him more when your body was primed for him.
"You gonna stop me?" he murmured against your skin.
You should have.
You didn't.
Instead, you exhaled shakily, tilting your head just enough to grant him access.
And that was all he needed.
"Good girl," he hummed, already leading you toward the bedroom.
It had been a lazy friday afternoon, the two of you lounging on the couch. Seungcheol had one arm slung over your shoulder while his other hand absently scrolled through his phone. You were half-watching a movie, but your focus drifted to him—his black fitted shirt accentuating every sharp line and curve, his chest rose and fell with every relaxed breath he take, his hair brushed up effortlessly, revealing that maddeningly perfect forehead. Not to mention his long eyelashes that's longer than yours, and those pouty lips—damn, your mind screamed "DADDY CHOKE ME".
You didn’t even realize you said it until it was too late.
“Can you pass me the remote, Daddy?”
The words slipped out so casually that you didn’t register their weight until you caught the subtle quirk of Seungcheol’s lips. His smirk was slow and deliberate, like he’d just uncovered your deepest secret. He turned his head to look at you, a playful spark igniting in his dark eyes.
“What did you just call me?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.
Your heart nearly stopped. Heat rose to your cheeks as you scrambled to backtrack, feigning innocence. “I said Cheolie. You heard wrong.”
His smirk grew wider, and he shifted so he was fully facing you, his knee pressing into your thigh. “No, no. You definitely didn’t say Cheolie” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement. “Go on. Say it again.”
You shook your head furiously, burying your face in the throw pillow to hide your embarrassment. “I’m not saying anything,” you mumbled, your voice muffled.
But he wasn’t letting it go. Gently, he tugged the pillow away and leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Don’t be shy now,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “You called me Daddy so naturally. I think I like it.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Cheol, stop it. I didn’t mean to—it just slipped!”
He chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Oh, I know it slipped,” he said, leaning back against the couch, his smug expression firmly in place. “But now that it’s out there…” He trailed off, letting his words hang in the air.
You peeked at him through your fingers, narrowing your eyes at the satisfied grin he wore. “Don’t get any ideas,” you warned, though your voice lacked conviction.
Cheol simply shrugged, reaching over to pull you into his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Too late, baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours. “I think you just gave me a new favorite nickname.”
Your face burned as you tried to squirm out of his hold, but his grip was firm. “Cheol!”
“It's daddy, remember?,” he corrected with a wink.
Seungcheol's favorite positions are doggy, missionary, and whatever it's called when he's picking you up or holding you against a wall while fucking you. His strong arms are always holding onto you as he pounds you. He doesn't have a favorite place to fuck you, he'll fuck you anywhere honestly.
He's a top if it wasn't obvious already. He is DADDYYYY. You're never in charge. Ever. Unless he's too tired, or drunk or something and even when he's drunk you're usually not on top.
He likes when you suck him off, it's one of his favorite things. But if you aren't into that or you don't want to do that he doesn't mind, he'll gladly eat you out and jerk himself off while he does it. He also likes when you scratch up his back and arms.
His favorite color of lingerie on you is a light pastel color like pink or blue. But he also likes when you wear black lingerie. Lace and bows are a must.
He has a sir kink and a small daddy kink but he prefers sir. He also has a praise kink, tell him how good he makes you feel and he's cumming.
He'll rarely use toys, honestly. You only own a few, a couple of dildos and a vibrator.
As rough as he is when you guys are having sex, he matches the roughness with how sweet and loving he is during aftercare. He's cleaning you up, feeding you, bringing you water, everything.
"babe, look," you call for his attention, raising your own screen up to him. "i'm also a gamer!" you exclaim with pride, holding back a laugh with how his face suddenly sours at the sight of a 3d man on your tablet screen. seungcheol takes off his headphones letting them rest around his neck after exiting his game.
"babe… who's that?" he asks, reaching for your device. you quickly snatch it away before it gets in his grasp.
"my fictional boyfriend," you reply, smug as you go back to choosing the character's outfit. "his name is sylus."
"why do you need a fictional boyfriend—" seungcheol huffs. he takes up the seat next to you, snuggling close as he watches the movement on your screen— "when you have a real one right next to you?"
you could no longer hold back your laughter, pausing your game to not affect your progress. "are you jealous over a man who's very much not real?"
his denial comes swift but you could tell, by the pink tinge of his cheeks and the way his eyes squint into a glare at your tablet, that he was very much jealous. you chuckle softly, turning your tablet off and setting it on your other side so you could cuddle up to him. you press a quick kiss to his cheek to placate him.
he preens under the attention, holding you even closer, the pout you'd fallen in love with present on his face. "he's not gonna take me away from you, ever."
hockey player cheol x reader
warnings: non-graphic injury; mention of surgery. wc: 499
[sign me up] You think Seungcheol is being all whiny and cute just so that you’ll do what he wants, which isn’t so bad. What’s bad is that it’s working.
Almost.
“C'mon, Coach—”
“I’m not your coach,” you cut in. The entire team likes to tease you by calling you Coach Junior since your dad is their actual coach. Of course, you’re around enough that you’ve kind of earned the title, but Seungcheol teases you with it the most.
“You’re the closest thing to it,” Seungcheol reasons, still smiling like that will convince you. “C'mon, please? You’re the only one who can convince him.”
Sitting in the bleachers as you watch the team practice, you cross your arms and frown at Seungcheol. “No way. Your doctor was very clear about your healing process. Even once your cast is off, you need to wait at least another two weeks before you get on the ice.”
Seungcheol sighs, dropping the cutesy act. He looks like he wants to lean forward, but it’s awkward with his heavily-casted foot. “You’re just as stubborn as your dad, huh?”
“You should know that by now.”
“I’m starting to get the idea.” Seungcheol closes his eyes, head falling back while he lets out a long sigh through his nose.
For a few moments, you just look at him.
This is a really sucky situation; you get it. Eight weeks from now, team scouts are going to be attending two games, and while Seungcheol should be back on the ice by then, his cast means little to no practice until the games. He’s at a real disadvantage.
All you can hear is the slapping of pucks and the skidding of skates on the ice. You don’t like awkward silences.
“Can I sign your cast?”
Seungcheol opens his eyes and looks at you with a brow raised. “You want to?”
A few days ago, the whole team visited Seungcheol right after his surgery, and they’d all signed his cast. Even your dad did, but for some reason, you just didn’t. You felt like you weren’t close enough to Seungcheol for that. After all, you’re just the coach’s kid. You’re not a part of the team.
“Yeah.” You shrug as though this isn’t a weirdly big step for you. “Got a marker?”
Seungcheol pulls out a marker from his hockey bag, probably used to people asking for one. It’s an ugly green colour, but you uncap it with a pop and move to the bleacher below you so that you’re right next to his cast. Without even thinking, you end off your signature with a heart.
Your breath catches slightly, but then you look up at Seungcheol, and he’s smiling — really smiling for the first time since he screwed up his ankle. You give him a small smile back, and you doodle another heart.
