Hello!! 👋🏻 Happy (belated) SVT Day!!! 🩵 I hope it's not too late to send in a request, if it is or you don't have time that is totally okay! 🥹
I was hoping to make a request for a Dino x Reader fic, with a secret relationship plot where reader is maybe Dino's makeup artist or something similar? So they're in each others presence pretty often but have to keep their feelings and interactions casual while on camera despite the tension; it'd be cute if Dino was also kind of a tease, like he doesn't mind hinting at their relationship or being flirty but reader is shy about it! So just something with some fun tension and overall fluff, if that's possible 🫶🏻 If you need something more specific, maybe a scenario where, after a performance and/or a music show win, Dino sneaks off to find reader to celebrate but right after they find each other, they're at risk of getting caught so they have to hide real quick; what's coming to mind is that scene from Tangled where Rapunzel and Eugene hide from the guards in the kingdom, if you know what I mean? 😭 Point being, they'd be all giggly once the threat passes and then plan and go on a date or something 🥹
I'm a real sucker for a good idol au + secret relationship, and I know you have a wonwoo fic with that kind of story that I can't WAIT to check out 🫣
Also, love the Carat questionnaire that I'm more than willing to answer 🫶🏻🫶🏻
1. When did you become a Carat?
2017, soon after Don't Wanna Cry was released!!
2. What lured you into Caratland?
In May or June of 2017, so like, RIGHT after DWC, my cousin who was into k-pop wanted to show me some of SVT mv's to try and get me into them, and DWC was the first one! unfortunately at the time I was like "i don't think this is my thing" 😭 only for me to like 5 months later, watch BTS's DNA mv and decide "oh wait I do like this, what was that other group she showed me??" 🫠
3. Who was your first bias?
Hoshi!!! I thought he was funny, and tigers were my favorite animal for the longest time 🐯
4. Who is your current bias?
Constantly cycling through Wonwoo, DK, and Dino, i don't think i'm too alone in having a bias line, right??
5. Who is your wrecker?
I mean, all of them, but if I had to pick someone as consistently trying to make his way permanently onto my bias line, it would be Seungkwan- vocals, looks, humor, wit, talent, like???
6. Favorite SVT song/era?
DWC/A1 will always have a special place in my heart, but alongside it would most likely be _WORLD era or Semicolon era 🖤 My fav songs would take way too long to decide or list, so off the top of my head, 'Lie Again' is SO GOOD OMG
7. Favorite Going Seventeen episode? Or, which GoSe do you rewatch a lot?
Mousebusters!!! I just find them chasing each other around to be really entertaining 😭 So in line with that, also Catch Stock (despite the rampant CHEATING) ; and then of course all the Don't Lies and the Bad Clues, and the Kickball and Going Rangers episodes ><
8. What's a SVT moment that never fails to make you laugh?
I just mentioned it, but so many moments from the Going Rangers episode literally make me bust a lung, specifically, DK's "my jibang, my cholesterol", Wonwoo's 'Spider' dance, and Shua's high note 😭 If there was another, there's this clip of Dino where the camera is up in his face and he gives it such a bad side eye and is like "i'm done talking", i find it really funny- Dino, DK, and Wonwoo are my biases i think partially because I appreciate all their senses of humor the most 🥹 Also shoutout to the Going Seventeen editors, i ADORE their embellishments and memes- AGAIN Going Rangers, they kept bringing back Wonwoo's "my grandiose dreams" from that one Dont Lie 😭😭
9. If you were a member of SVT, which unit would you be a part of?
I would LOVE to say Performance Unit, their discography makes up like half of my favorite SVT songs, but i'm not that inclined with dancing, i'm afraid 😖 so vocal unit!! I do love to sing!
10. In one word, what does SVT mean to you?
Solace 🫂
Always love to make Carat friends, lets keep shining in this diamond life!! 💎
Awh, I had a blast reading your answers! Solace is such a great word to choose! Mousebusters is so funny to watch. My favorite part is when Jun laughs evilly while being pinned down 🤣 I remember having to rewind that the first time I watched it because I was so surprised he was capable of such a sound LOL
Also, I believe it's VERY common to have a bias line in SVT because they're all so incredible! It took me a while to finalize mine haha.
TYSM for requesting this! 🥰
💋 Pairing: Dino/Chan x Reader
💋 Rating/Genres/AUs: PG/Fluff/Idol au, established relationship, secret relationship
💋 Warnings: None, just kissing
💋 Word Count: 1k
seventeen masterlist | main masterlist
Cheers and applause erupt in the dressing room following Seventeen's M Countdown win. The camera pans to show the group, a few members sending hearts in appreciation. Chan meets the camera's lens and sends a flying kiss. You puff a silent laugh and smile.
Before the team went on stage, Chan had told you that if they won, he'd blow you a kiss. It's a silent message, but it doesn't go unheard.
The group's videographers grab their cameras and prepare to get footage of their afterthoughts when they return. You wait in one of the makeup chairs, excited to see Chan and his handsome smile. There's always this special glow that surrounds him when he's happy.
The moment the group comes back, you look out for Chan. He meets your eye the second he steps through the door. He sends a quick head nod towards the exit before turning back to the cameras near him.
"Carats!" He greets cheerfully. "I had a lot of fun…"
You slip from your chair to leave the room. Your steps are slow as you find the vending machine you and Chan usually meet at. A few staff members from other groups bow in greeting, which you return. The hallway becomes less populated the closer you get. It's not too convenient since many groups bring their own food.
To not seem suspicious, you pull out your wallet from your back pocket. You tap it mindlessly as you scan the options.
"How much for a kiss?"
You startle, spinning to see Chan grinning.
You giggle and slip your card back into your wallet. "Sorry, those are reserved for my boyfriend."
"Oh, yeah?" Chan smirks, taking a step closer. "They must be good."
You lift a shoulder. "You'd have to ask him."
Chan takes another step and places his hands low on your hips. He pulls you closer.
"I heard he needs a reminder," he murmurs, low and gravely. Despite it stirring giddiness in your stomach, you know it'll be easy to tease him.
"So, they're forgettable?" You fake a frown.
Chan's eyes widen, and he starts to shake his head profusely.
"No, babe! That's not what I meant. I meant he—I need a reminder of how good they are. How incredible they—"
You press your lips against his briefly.
"'M just messing with you, Channie."
Your smile must reassure him, because his tense shoulders only ease when he sees it.
"You owe me ten kisses just for that!" He huffs halfheartedly.
"I dunno, Chan," you say with a heavy sigh. "Ten's a lot."
Chan squeezes his hands on your body. "That's the minimum."
You laugh. You want to tease him more, but the small pout on his lips is hard to refute.
You lean in and peck his lips.
"One."
"One?" Chan gasps. "That was barely—"
"What are you doing this weekend?"
You and Chan freeze. Thankfully, he recovers more quickly and pulls you into a nook in the wall nearby.
He presses you against the wall, caging you in—trying to get in the shadows as much as possible. The voices don't sound familiar, so it must be another group's staff.
You tuck your face into his chest so no one will recognize you in case you get caught.
"Nothing exciting. Groceries and sleep," another says. "You?"
Chan's chest rises and falls rapidly. You rest a hand on top of his heart and rub your thumb along his shirt. Gradually, his heartbeat slows a fraction.
You smile into his chest while he presses a silent kiss to your head. His hands rub your waist as you both listen to the footsteps pause.
"Pretty much the same except I have to visit my sister too," the first one replies with a laugh.
"What's up with your sister?" the other asks. There's a clunking sound, and you figure one of them got something from the vending machine.
"It's her birthday."
"Ah, wish her a happy birthday for me."
"Will d…"
Their voices and footsteps fade slowly as they leave.
A full minute passes until Chan releases a deep breath. You peer up at him for the first time, and despite having been in a precarious situation, a small giggle escapes your lips. A rush of excitement and fondness floods your body. There's always a thrill of doing something forbidden, and kissing your idol coworker definitely falls under that category.
Chan smiles and joins in your soft laughter.
"You're so cute," he murmurs while reaching out to cup your cheeks. He pulls you close and slots his lips with yours. It's embarrassing how quickly you melt into his muscular body. You hold onto his wrists to keep yourself upright.
"Congratulations, Channie," you whisper after you pull away for air.
"My number one supporter." He kisses you again. Slow, deep, and knee-buckling.
"I dunno about that," you respond. There are his brothers and his fans who cheer him on just as much as you.
"I do," he says. "And to say thanks, how about a date this weekend, baby?"
"Don't you have practice?" you wonder, sliding your hands up his arms to circle his neck.
"I do, but I'd still like to take you somewhere," he says.
"If you insist," you say, "but I'm treating you!"
Chan shakes his head and rubs his thumb along your bottom lip. "You can treat me with more kisses."
"That doesn't count!"
"Well, there's no way I'm letting these pretty hands"—he grabs your hands from around his neck—"touch your wallet. Not when I'm around."
You roll your eyes playfully. "We'll see."
Chan laughs and looks at you challengingly.
"We will," he says, followed by a short kiss. "We'd better get back now. I'll wait a bit before I come in."
You nod, then slip from the shadows.
By the time Chan comes back, the rest of the members are waiting to give a final thanks to their fans.
"Dino!" Seokmin exclaims.
"Sorry," Chan answers and joins his team on the corner.
Soonyoung grabs him around the shoulders and shuffles him in frame. He hugs his brother affectionately.
"You didn't get lost, did you?" he teases the youngest.
Chan smiles and shakes his head. "No. Just had to celebrate with something sweet."
"Did you eat it already? Was it good?" Wonwoo asks.
For a second, Chan's eyes snag on yours from across the room. The mischievous glint in his eyes has your cheeks warming before he even speaks.
PAIRING: F.Reader x ot13
PACK MEMBER FOCUS: Seungcheol
PACK MEETING: You're having a hard time adjusting to your new pack. Good thing your head alpha knows exactly how to help you adapt.
REQUESTED BY: @peaspeas
REQUEST: Idek if this qualifies because I'm talking like, maybe pré-rules or before they were finalised formally but I want Seungcheol finding reader whenever she's eating and sitting with her and she has no idea why. If he shows up and she's already eating, he's like oh shit, panic to make up a reason that he needs to as well etc. Almost a sort of farcical comedy vibe? Both idiots ofc
WC: 5,135
RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It may contain explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
PACK WARNINGS: Very mild angst like wouldn't even call it that, reader has some anxiety adjusting to a new pack, she's a little in her head, Seungcheol is a little shit, some vague references to hormones and adjusting to being near others, reader being lonely and feeling a little on the outside, both of them are kind of stupid lmfaooo but in a good way, some playful arguing at the end.
A/N: Moni this is not as cracky as it was supposed to be and didn't really notice to the end I'm saur sorry lmfaoooo. Also this is not beta read we die like men guys.
HOUSE RULES M. LIST | MAIN M. LIST | ASK
THE KITCHEN IS PAINTED IN SHADES OF BLUE AT 5:47 IN THE MORNING. As the only resident of said kitchen this early in the morning the past two weeks, you've learned that the pre-dawn light that spills through the wide windows above the sink turns everything soft and cool in the morning. The white subway tile back splash starts off a muted grey before the sun finally melts away the blue and turns it bright white each morning.
This morning, the honey-colored cabinets look muted, nearly colorless as the sun hides beyond the horizon. You take another bite of cereal, listening to the old house settle around you. The house has taken getting used to - not because it's ancient, but because it's old enough to feel lived in and have its own quirks of floorboards that squeak, doors that click shut because the hinges are a little loose, pipes that groan when one of the thirteen people upstairs showers late at night.
It's a big house. It has to be, to fit the pack of thirteen - fourteen now, including you. Six alphas, seven betas, and you. A single omega, new and a little out of your comfort zone as you try to figure the ins and outs of a pack who have been together so long, they don't even have to think about how to navigate one another. They just do, planets who have been in rotation of one another for so long that it's as easy as breathing.
Where they've had years together, you've only had two weeks. It still feels like you're learning an entire new language - not because any of them are difficult or unkind, but rather because there's a difference between being welcomed into a pack and belonging, and you're somewhere in the strange gap between the two.
Unfortunately, the omega part of your brain doesn't really understand the distinction between the two, even though you do. You get that it'll take time to integrate yourself fully and to fit in as intimately as the others do with one another, but your instincts don't have that nuance. All your omega knows is that you should be surrounded by a pack, that you should be scented and claimed and constantly near people who want you.
Instead, you're sitting by yourself in a kitchen that feels too big and your instincts are ramming against you to go knock on a door and ask for company. You can't, though. Not that they wouldn't let you in - they would. You know they would. But the small fraction of the what if keeps you rooted to your seat. What if they end up not liking you? What if this doesn't work out? What if they decide they don't need an omega after all?
You stare at the cereal in your bowl, now soggy. It's something honey-flavored and generic that you took out of the pack pantry without looking. Mingyu swore you could take anything out of the pantry and fridge - anything in the house. What’s theirs is yours until you start filling the house with your favorite things, but like the anxiety of asking one of them to spend time with you, you can't seem to figure out how to ask for cinnamon sugar cereal or sweet cream coffee creamer.
Another bite confirms your cereal is as soggy as it looks. You ignore it, watching the kitchen in the morning stillness. It still smells like cinnamon and brown sugar from something Mingyu baked yesterday. Dishes pile in the sink and you know Seungcheol is going to have a field day when he sees it, adamant about dishes being done each night.
Under the layers of the smell of the kitchen is them. You're still trying to pick out the strands of scents that belong to each member, but thirteen scents layered over the top of one another is dizzying and hard to get used to, each one blending into something that you recognize as almost pack. Pack but not.
There are a few you can pick out individually, at least. You know Seungcheol's cedar and smoke, the head alpha easier to scent than the others. Jeonghan's citrus and something that you can't put your finger on. Mingyu's clean laundry smell with a hint of something soft and woody. The others remain a bit of a mess, but you're determined to try, hoping that maybe untangling each scent will lead you to untangling them and finding a sense of belonging that you'd hoped to find here and that they said they'd wanted you to find.
You try not to think about what happens if you don't find a place here. Though it's actually entirely normal not to, you don't know if you could survive that kind of embarrassment. You had already been a bit wary of using omega placement services as it was, desperate to find a pack after years of living on your own and unwilling to go back to living with your all-beta family in your tiny town where nothing much ever happened.
Thirteen pack members is a lot after coming from something small, something lonely. You'd been thrilled at the idea, realizing that you'd never be alone again, that you'd always have someone to lean on. Now you're here, in a house full of thirteen people who are supposed to be your pack, and you're still eating breakfast alone. Still sitting on the outside of their easy familiarity. Still trying to figure out how to bridge the gap between being new and being home.
Creaking stairs catch your attention. You perk up, freezing as you listen to the soft steps of someone coming down the stairs and toward the kitchen. You smell the cedar and smoke before you see him, your brain getting a little foggy before Seungcheol ever steps into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
He pulls up short when he sees you. He's surprised, and you realize he hadn't smelled you before he walked in, unused to having an omega or an outsider in his house. He looks devastating this morning in sweatpants slung low on his hips and a t-shirt that's tight enough to show off the width of him and strength in his chest. An alpha not only built strong mentally but physically, someone who feels and looks dependable, someone who looks entirely too soft and swollen and pretty in the dawn light.
He blinks at you. His eyes are dark and a little unfocused, still soft with sleep, but there's something sharp underneath. It makes you sit up straighter, you body thrumming as he flicks on the light. You squint, but when your eyes adjust, he's still looking at you with an expression he doesn't understand.
"Why are you sitting in the dark?" He asks, voice rough with sleep. "Are you alright?"
"What? Oh." You lower your spoon to the bowl, hyperaware of him. "Sorry, I'm an early riser in new places. I can go if you need the kitchen, sorry-"
"No, stay."
It's not a command, but his voice is firm enough that you nod instantly, relaxing a little. He moves further into the room, carrying the heavy presence of a head alpha with him. You can feel it in the way he moves, the way he takes up space and the gravity around him that has nothing to do with physical mass and everything to do with him.
You grip the edge of the counter, trying to stay composed as your omega instincts kick in. The last thing you want is for him to think you're awkward or needy. You don't want him to know how much you're struggling with this transition more than you should be. You're supposed to be settling in and comfortable by now, but you're not.
It scares you.
"Coffee?" he asks, already turning it on.
"No, I'm okay."
He hums, opening the cabinet next to the coffee maker. You watch him scan the mugs until he finds a specific one and selects it. You wonder if they have assigned mugs, if there's a hierarchy in the cabinet beyond your understanding like so many other things here.
Silence hangs between you as he makes his coffee, turning to lean backward against the counter with the mug tucked between his hands. His gaze drifts back to you and he gives you a soft smile that you tentatively return. The attention makes you feel exposed, like he's looking at you and sees right through the core of you despite only having been in the same room for a few minutes.
"Couldn't sleep?" You ask, desperately trying to fill the silence.
"Something like that." He gestures toward you. "What about you? Do you do this a lot? Waking up early and sitting alone in the dark, I mean."
"I guess, yeah. I have a hard time sleeping in new places and I don't like to just lay there."
"Mmm." There's a pause, and you can feel him still watching you. Still assessing. "You eat breakfast alone a lot too?"
You glance down at the bowl. "Sometimes, I guess? I'm usually up before anyone else."
"How long have you been up?"
"Maybe an hour?"
"And you've just been sitting here by yourself."
It's not quite a question, but it feels like one. You glance up at him, trying to figure out where this is going, but his expression is unreadable. His scent shifts and you realize what it is. Protectiveness. He doesn't like that you're sitting here by yourself, and the realization makes something warm unfurl in your chest.
"I don't mind," you murmur, looking down again to hide the sudden flush you feel.
He hums. "I'm hungry." You look up, confused at the statement. He points to your bowl. "What are you having?"
"Cereal. I think it's honey? I didn't want to wake anyone up by cooking."
"Cereal sounds good. Honey is Chan's. Good choice."
He moves with purpose then, crossing to the cabinets to pull down a bowl. Your eyes catch on the line of his shoulders and the way his muscles shift under the cotton tee, the way it rides up just slightly as he reaches for the milk in the fridge, revealing a tiny strip of skin at his lower back that makes your mouth go dry. You look away quickly, back down at your soggy cereal, and try to get your breathing under control.
You watch as he fixes himself a bowl of cereal and strides over to you, dragging a stool up next to you. You blink in surprise. You expected him to sit across from you, but instead he plops down next to you close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin and close enough that the cedar and smoke of him makes your eyes flutter. His knee brushes yours as he adjusts and you have to physically stop yourself from leaning into him, your nervous system lighting up at the proximity.
"So," he says, pulling you from the static of your thoughts. "Tell me about yourself."
You blink at him. "Like what?"
"Anything." He takes another bite of cereal like this is completely normal. Like he wakes up at five in the morning to eat with strangers all the time. "Where are you from again?"
"Small town." You stir your cereal. The milk swirls. "Really small. Everyone-knows-everyone small."
"And you left."
"For college. I came back for a few years after but it didn't feel like I fit in anymore so I moved to the city, got an apartment by myself. Thought I wanted independence and freedom to figure things out on my own terms." You take a bite of cereal just to have something to do with your hands. "Turns out being alone and being independent aren't the same thing. I was just lonely. Really lonely. Didn't even realize how bad it was until I started looking into pack placement programs and well… now I’m here trying it out, I guess."
Seungcheol goes quiet. When you glance over, his expression is soft. "How long were you alone?"
"Three years."
"That's a long time for anyone, not specifically an omega."
"Yeah." You swallow. "I didn't know what I was missing. I'm still trying to figure it out, I think and how I… fit in."
"You're doing fine," he says.
"I eat breakfast alone every morning."
"Not this morning, though."
The words are simple and direct. When you look up at him, he's watching you with something warm in his expression. Something that makes your chest tight.
"No," you say quietly. "Not this morning."
He gives you a small smile that transforms his face. Suddenly, he's not the intimidating pack alpha - he's soft and warm, more like a person than someone you have to impress or earn the trust of. You relax a little, stirring your milk aimlessly.
"What about you?" you ask. "What made you want to lead a pack this big?"
He huffs a quiet laugh. "Honestly? I didn't set out to. It just kind of happened. We all met in college, started spending time together, and it felt right. Natural. Then more people joined and suddenly I was the one everyone looked to when decisions needed to be made. Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing it right. If I'm taking care of everyone the way I should be."
"I think you're doing a good job," you say. "Everyone seems happy. Settled."
He looks at you and gives you a look, one brow raised. "Everyone except you."
His words make you wince. Not because they're accusatory, but because you didn't think he noticed. You realize it's a bit of an insult for you to have doubted him - Seungcheol's entire role as the head alpha is to understand his pack, to balance the personalities, to lead. That includes you, despite not feeling like it, and you realize that he's taken notice and doesn't intend to let it go.
"We don't eat alone unless we want to in my pack," he says simply.
My pack. The possessiveness in those two words makes something flutter in your chest and you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to stop yourself from grinning, to stop yourself from getting too hopeful.
"I didn't want to be a burden," you admit.
"You're not," he promises. "You're a part of our pack which means you're never a burden. We want you here. We wouldn't have gone through the trouble of the agency and placement if we didn't think there was something missing. You were missing and we're happy to gave you, even if it's a little awkward at first."
You can feel your heart beating too fast, the warmth of him making you dizzy. Seungcheol doesn't lean closer, but you feel him closer, the smell of him overwhelming and comforting. You realize he's doing it on purpose, pheromones comforting you like he should. You glance up and he has a knowing look on his face, a little smug and a little endeared and you find yourself smiling.
"Thank you," you manage. "For noticing."
"Always," he murmurs.
You finish your cereal together as the sky outside continues to lighten. For the first time since you moved into this house, you don't feel quite so alone.
-
It's Tuesday in the middle of the day when Seungcheol interrupts your next meal. You look up as he walks onto the back porch, the apple covered in peanut butter in your hand pausing as he sits down next to you at the table. He's got a full plate with him, rice, chicken and vegetables piled high as he sighs and settles in comfortably.
"Hey," he says casually, cracking open the can of soda he's brought along.
"Hi," you say slowly, eyeing him.
"I am starving. Wanted something sweet."
You look at his plate. Then back at him. Then back at the plate.
"Seungcheol, that is not sweet."
"What?"
"You said you wanted something sweet. That's chicken."
He blinks and looks down like he's just now noticing what's on it. You press your lips together as he scratches the side of his neck, nodding. "Right. I meant I wanted something sweet after this. You like ice cream?"
"I do."
"Great." He leans over, peering at your apple slices as his shoulders brush yours, sending a spark through you. "What are you having?"
"Apple and peanut butter."
"Hmmm. Classic." He starts cutting into his chicken as you watch him, eyes narrowed. "How's your day?"
You're still processing the fact that he claimed to be starving for something sweet while holding a savory meal, but you answer anyway, amused.
"Good. I've been reading."
"Yeah? What are you reading?"
Taking another bite of your apple, you tell him. Seungcheol is an engaged listener, nodding and asking follow up questions as he devours his plate. Somehow, time passes easily. Even after he's cleared his plate, he leans back into his chair, foot up on the seat as he tells you about one of his favorite books growing up, dimples appearing every time he smiles.
You love his dimples, watching them as he ducks his head and laughs, long hair falling in his eyes. You smile too, unable to help it around him. He's infectious like that, easily shifting the mood from something tense to warm or lonely to comfortable, like an alpha should.
Eventually, he sighs heavily, stretching. You try not to notice the way his shirt peels up, revealing the barest hint of soft stomach before he drops his arms back down and grins at you.
"I have to get back to work," he says. "But this was nice. We should do it again."
"That would be nice."
He smiles and gets up, clearing his plate and reaching to grab your empty one without much preamble. You watch him go inside, shaking your head when you realize that he never wanted something sweet in the first place.
-
You've been awake for three hours.
It's not insomnia, exactly. It's more like your brain won't shut off and you keep laying in bed replaying conversations, analyzing the way Seungcheol looked at you on Wednesday, wondering if you're reading too much into the fact that Mingyu sat close enough to scent you yesterday but didn't, if any of this means anything or if you're just desperate enough to convince yourself it does. As usual, your brain is doing laps, restless and unsettled, and the quiet of the house at midnight isn't helping. It's making you hyper-aware of how alone you are in your room, how easy it would be to just stay here without anyone noticing and how good you've gotten at it.
So you give up on sleep. Again.
The kitchen is dark when you pad downstairs in your pajamas, the hum of the refrigerator going as you open it up, squinting against the light. You don't bother to turn the overhead lights on, the moon filtering in through the big windows over the sink enough to get by. You steal the honey cereal - Chan's - again from the pantry, and fix a bowl before sitting at the counter, sighing as you take a bite.
Your phone buzzes on the counter, startling you. You flip it over, squinting in the dark as you frown when you read it.
SEUNGCHEOL [12:15 AM]: What are you doing?
Your stomach does something complicated.
YOU [12:15 AM]: Eating cereal… why?
SEUNGCHEOL [12:16 AM] Be right there
You set your phone down slowly, your heart doing something erratic in your chest. He heard you come downstairs. His room is above the kitchen - you know this now - and realize that he must have heard you snooping around down here like he did that first morning he found you eating in the kitchen at five in the morning.
A minute later, he appears in the kitchen doorway and your brain short circuits a little. He's in soft cotton pajama pants and a t-shirt that's clearly old and pulled tight across his chest. His hair is completely disheveled, sticking up in about fifteen different directions, and he's rumpled and sleepy enough to tell you that he absolutely was asleep until he heard you.
"Hey," he croaks.
"I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't," he lies.
"You didn't have to come down, Seungcheol."
"I did. And you can call me Cheol, you know. Seungcheol makes it sound like I'm in trouble."
He moves to the cabinet, and grabs a bowl, making himself a matching snack before he sits down close enough that his thigh brushes yours. You shiver and if he notices, he has the decency not to point it out.
"Maybe you are in trouble," you mutter, taking a bite.
"Yeah? What for?"
"Being a liar who lies. You heard me and came down."
He grins and takes a bite of cereal. He chews thoughtfully for a few seconds, ignoring your stare. "So what if I did? I wanted to join you, so I did. Anyway, trouble sleeping again?"
"Kind of." You push cereal around your bowl, not quite meeting his eyes. "My brain won't shut off."
"Yeah?" He shifts slightly, and you're hyperaware of every point where his body is close to yours. "What's it doing?"
"Thinking."
"Pack stuff?"
"Maybe." You finally look at him. His eyes are soft in the moonlight. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Are you doing this on purpose?"
He doesn't ask what you mean. Doesn't pretend to be confused. Just smiles into his cereal, and the smile is so knowing that your face goes hot.
"Yep."
"Why?" Your voice is barely a whisper. "Why are you doing this?"
He sets his spoon down. Turns to face you fully, and there's something serious in his expression now, something that makes you sit up and pay attention to him.
"I told you already," he says softly. "We don't eat alone unless we want to. Do you want to?" You hesitate only a moment before shaking your head. "Exaclty. So until you feel confidence to ask someone - you can ask any of us, by the way - I'll make sure you're not eating alone."
It's something so simple and yet it devastates you to hear him say it. It isn't the words themselves exactly, but rather the way he says it, like it's a promise, like he's already decided that this doesn't require permission or gratitude or even for you to ask. It's just a fact that he's going to do this, no negotiation, no need to think about it.
You think about the last three years of your life of eating in your apartment along, of making meals for one, of not having to consider anyone else's schedule or preferences. Three years of being fine with it because fine was easier than admitting you were lonely. And now you have a pack you don't know what to do with, but this alpha - this head of a thirteen-person pack - is keen enough to pick up on what you need and come down to the kitchen at midnight to make sure you have what you need.
It's wonderful and terrifying all at once.
"Okay," you murmur, nodding.
You watch him in the moonlight filtering through the kitchen window. His hair is still a mess and his face is puffy with sleep, but he's soft. Warm. You notice a small scar on his collarbone you've never been close enough to notice before, and wonder where he got it from.
When he finishes his bowl of cereal, he looks at yours, raising his brows. "You finishing that?"
You shake your head and he grins, reaching over and brushing against you deliberately to steal your bowl. The contact is electric as his arm grazes your shoulder, his chest brushing your back for just a second, and your entire nervous system short-circuits. You nearly go catatonic at the contact, omega melting even when he pulls away, leaving you dizzy and touch starved and hungry for something not food. Your skin tingles where he touched you.
Seungcheol notices. This time, you see the way he grins, smug and content at your reaction. It hits you that he planned that, that he wanted you to feel it. The realization makes your chest tight in a way that's half panic, half something else entirely.
You can feel the heat crawling up your neck, your face, and it pisses you off - not at him, but at yourself for being so transparent, so easy to read. You huff and cross your arms over your chest, turning to him, temper flaring a little. You're not mad at all, but your omega instincts bristle in a way that feels playful and fun, something entirely unfamiliar to you. It's like your body knows something your brain hasn't caught up to yet.
"Well that's not fair," you huff. "You can't just do that."
"Do what?"
"Brush up against me and use your… alpha ways."
He laughs, full bellied and loud, echoing off the kitchen walls. "My alpha ways?"
"Yes!"
"That's how it works."
"Well!" You stomp your foot against the footrest on the stool. "I would like to file a complaint. Wait, who do I file a complaint with? You're head alpha."
Even as you say it, you know how ridiculous you sound. You're literally complaining to the person you're complaining about. It's absurd. But there's also a part of you that likes this game, this playful banter.
"You're cute when you panic."
The word lands like a punch. Cute. You're not cute. You're competent and sarcastic and you've survived three years alone in a city that didn't care about you. You're not cute. Except the way he says it makes you feel small in a way that isn't entirely bad. You like it, even.
"I'm not panicking," you say, which is a lie and you both know it.
"Sure."
"And for the record, I'm not cute. I am a very strong, very assertive omega." You stand up, trying to reclaim some dignity, trying to put distance between yourself and the way his presence makes your skin feel too tight. "I've even lived on my own. Very independent."
"Absolutely," he agrees, not sounding convinced at all.
Seungcheol stands with you and puts the bowls in the sink, leaving them unwashed for once. He grins at you and gestures to the door and you listen, because apparently you do that now. Your body just obeys him, no thought required, no decision made. You just move when he moves, follow when he leads. It should feel wrong, but it doesn't. It feels familiar in a way you've been craving and you finally have it.
He follows you up the stairs and you're hyperaware of him behind you, footsteps quiet and measured. . You can feel the warmth of him in the space between your bodies, close enough that you could lean back and touch him. Your omega is purring at his proximity, at the simple fact of him being there, and you hate how easy it's becoming to just accept it. To want it.
The hallway is dark except for the moonlight filtering through the window at the end, letting in enough light for you to walk to your room, third door to the left. When you reach it, you pause, your hand on the doorknob, suddenly unsure of the protocol. Do you just say goodnight? Do you invite him in? The uncertainty makes your stomach knot uncomfortably, panic spiking.
You turn to look at him and he's closer than you expected. Close enough that you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his eyes. He's still soft from sleep, and he's looking at you like he looks at the other members of his pack, warm and soft and so gentle that it makes your omega nearly scream.
Seungcheol grins and leans down, pressing a kiss briefly to your head, soft and warm and over before you even know it's happening. Your throat tightens immediately, thoughts turning to static as he takes a step back, winking at you.
"Sleep, he murmurs. "Wake me up when you want breakfast. I mean it."
He dismisses himself then and you watch him walk back down the hallway, his silhouette disappearing into the darkness, and you don't move until you hear his door close softly upstairs.
Only then do you slip into your room and lean against the door, your heart still racing, your forehead still burning with the ghost of his kiss. You touch your fingers to the spot where he kissed you, like you can hold onto it somehow.
Crawling into bed, you do exactly what Seungcheol has asked and you sleep.
-
The next morning when you wake up, you don’t have to wake Seungcheol. You hear the noise downstairs, confusion drawing you down the steps and into the kitchen where breakfast is being made in full. You stand in the doorway, confused as you watch Mingyu and Joshua argue at the stove, the sound of eggs sizzling and the smell of bacon wafting toward you.
Seungkwan is at the coffee machine, staring lifelessly into the open air as his coffee brews while Chan stands on his tip toes to reach more coffee mugs out of the cabinet behind him. Seokmin is sitting on the counter swinging his legs, laughing animatedly at whatever Soonyoung and Jihoon are arguing about near the sink while Jeonghan lays across the counter, head in Seokmin’s lap as he dozes.
Seungcheol walks in behind you, not missing at beat as he steers you by the waist toward the counter. Jeonghan peeks an eye open and grins, lifting himself from Seokmin’s lap to make room for you just as Seungcheol grip you by the waist and halls you up to sit on the counter next to Jeonghan, the citrus and jasmine smell of him placating your immediate irritation at being lifted.
“Why is everyone in the kitchen?” You demand, turning to Jeonghan because Seungcheol is already leaving you and heading for the fridge. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”
“Rule number one,” Jeonghan yawns, scooting closer so that he’s pressed up against you. You hesitate for only a second before you let yourself relax and tentatively lean toward him. “The omega is never allowed to eat alone unless she asks to.”
Seokmin peers around him. “Do you want to?”
His question hangs in the air among the noise and chaos of the kitchen, scents hitting you from every angle, the sound of Minghao complaining about burnt bacon and Mingyu hollering as oil pops and burns his wrist.
You grin, ducking your head a little as Seungcheol catches your eyes from across the kitchen and winks.
★ | member — junhui x gn reader
★ | genre — fluff, headcanons, bullet point list, one suggestive section (clearly labelled at the end so you can skip it if you like!)
★ | word count — 1.2k
★ | warnings — none
★ | notes — requested by anon!
★ | disclaimer — this is fiction! none of this is correct, true, or "confirmed" info. this is my personal perception of his character based on the content i've watched, so please don't take this as fact :) according to kprofiles, the only thing he's actually said is:
... which means bascially nothing haha. my headcanons are gender-neutral so his partner can be anyone (not strictly a girl). don't make assumptions about anyone's sexuality, but again this is fiction so feel free to imagine whatever you like!
── ⊹ ˙ . 𖥻 jun's ideal type . . .
. . . is someone more extroverted than him (but not too much)
• there's a very specific sweet spot here that he's looking for, someone who's not super extroverted but also not as much of an introvert as he is. since jun definitely leans more introverted, he doesn't mind sitting back and letting you talk to your heart's content. with a partner who's more extroverted than he is, there's no pressure for him to carry the conversation or make jokes. he can just listen and jump in when he wants to, not because he feels obligated to fill the silence when you're around.
• i think he enjoys having extroverted friends (how could he get along so well with svt if he didn't lol) so he's grown used to being around rambunctious energy. maybe not as rowdy 24/7 as someone like hoshi, but he'd like having a partner who knows how to have fun and let loose once in a while. as long as you're enjoying yourself and he doesn't have to interact with a ton of strangers, he doesn't care.
• for most of his life he's taken on a 'big brother' kind of role, so deep down i think he'd secretly want someone who'll take care of him so he can relax. he wants somebody who's not afraid to flag down a waiter and complain about his order being wrong, when he'd rather suck it up and not bother the staff. he wants somebody who'll hold his hand on busy streets and make sure he doesn't get caught up in the crowd and left behind in the chaos. he wants somebody who'll be the older sibling for him this time, someone who's mature and caring in the same way he is.
. . . values communication and honesty
• he's said this plenty of times, but jun is a very honest person. he isn't so honest that he uses his honesty to hurt people — quite the opposite, actually. the last thing he ever wants is to make his partner or his friends uncomfortable by telling harsh truths. but at the same time, open communication is really important to him. having to learn multiple languages for his job, miscommunication happens a lot and he's acutely aware of how frustrating it is when other people don't understand what he's trying to say. even if it may hurt his pride sometimes, he'd want someone who'll always tell him the truth, because he prefers to know instead of hearing little white lies that won't help him grow as a person.
• i think he's very philosophical and he reflects a lot, and he always wants to learn from others and better himself, which is why communication is so important to him. if there's a better, more efficient, more kind way to live his life then he wants to achieve that, and the only way to do that is by being honest with himself and everyone in his life.
. . . is someone he can let his inner child out with
• we've all seen the runner-up winner episode of gose! (if you haven't, then what are you doing go watch it right now?? it's so cute i promise you'll love it) jun is a guy that really loves to play games and be silly. he's so whimsical and finds fun in practically anything, so his ideal type wouldn't mind doing "childish" things together. he wants someone who is truly genuine in everything that they do: who isn't afraid of looking stupid, who doesn't go along with the crowd, who doesn't obsess over how people perceive them.
• he wouldn't fit well with someone who's strict or stubborn or too nonchalant, someone who's a workaholic, because he knows how important it is to have a balance in your life and not take yourself too seriously sometimes. obviously he wouldn't be comfortable around someone who looks down on him for being immature or makes fun of him for acting like a kid sometimes. the man has been working since he was 3 years old, cut him some slack! svt understands this and it's why they treat him so gently. they adore him because they know he needs space to be a little dumb and a little dorky without judgement. he's spent so much of his life being serious, so his ideal partner would be someone who embraces his weird side, and loves him not just in spite of it, but because of it. weird baddies have to stick together so it's a requirement for him sorry you've gotta be a little bit strange.
[NSFW] . . . is a switch who always loves trying new things
• jun is so good at adapting to whatever situation he's in, and i think that would carry over into the bedroom. he's flexible, and he wants someone who can be flexible too and keep up with his many desires. sometimes he's had a rough day and he wants to just turn his brain off and let his partner call the shots, and he'll be your good boy and do whatever you tell him to do. sometimes he wants to be a little bratty and make you force him into submission instead. sometimes he's feeling brave and wants to take charge, and he be a little bit of a mean dom too. but most of the time, to him sex is just sex, so as long as you both feel good it doesn't matter exactly what the roles are. he's very much a "go with the flow" person, so he wouldn't work well with somebody who's very rigid and only likes one certain type of sex.
• he's a man of many talents (singing, dancing, acting, modeling, cooking, martial arts, speaking like 10 different languages... the list goes on) and he doesn't want to do only one thing for his entire life, so i can't see him wanting to stick to one type of sex forever either. like a cat, he's curious about everything, and he wants to try every new thing he comes across. he's open to almost anything, so he'd want a partner who is equally willing to play around with him, even if it doesn't end up being something either of you like. the experimenting is the fun part!
• he'd also want someone who isn't afraid of talking about sex, because while even he can be shy about it sometimes, it's normal and okay and there's nothing weird about it. he loves post-sex discussions where you just lie in bed together and talk about what you liked, what you didn't like, what you want to try differently next time. communication is very important to him, and if something isn't working, he wants to know right away. if it's something he can fix, then there's no reason to beat around the bush instead of tackling it head-on.
• bonus: i am on team "jun wants to be pegged" so i believe his ideal type is someone who isn't afraid of using toys/other items in the bedroom. do NOT try to come between him and his favorite dildo.
i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did please reblog with your thoughts, or leave a comment or send an ask! it shows me that people are interested in my writing, and knowing people liked this makes me want to write more! i put a lot of time, love, and effort into my writing, so feedback is really appreciated and motivates me to keep posting :) thanks for reading!!
Midnight Producer | idol/producer!Woozi x songwriter!Reader | fluff
The clock above the mixing console had just passed midnight. Most of the lights in the HYBE building had already been turned off, leaving only a handful of occupied studios scattered throughout the floors. Somewhere down the hall, someone was probably still recording vocals. Another producer was likely mixing a track that needed to be delivered by morning.
And then there was Y/N, who was currently losing a fight against her own song.
She groaned and let her forehead fall onto the desk with a soft thud.
"This is horrible."
The project file remained silent.
The lyrics were good. At least she thought they were. Writing had never been the problem. Y/N had spent years building her reputation as a songwriter. Lyrics came naturally to her. She loved finding the perfect words, creating stories through music, turning emotions into something people could sing along to.
Producing, however, was a completely different beast.
For the last six months she'd been trying to learn everything she could. Watching tutorials. Reading articles. Sitting in on production meetings whenever someone would let her. Slowly figuring out how songs were built from the ground up.
Tonight had been dedicated to her newest project, and after six straight hours of working on it, she somehow hated it more than when she'd started.
Y/N clicked play again.
The intro sounded fine. The first verse sounded fine. The pre-chorus was decent.
Then the chorus hit.
And she immediately paused it.
"Nope."
She physically recoiled. Something was wrong. She could feel it. She just couldn't figure out what. The worst part was that she'd been listening to it for so long that everything was starting to sound the same.
Maybe she just needed another opinion.
Grabbing her phone, she opened her messages. Her friend was usually awake around this time and often helped when Y/N was stuck creatively. Without thinking much about it, she exported the newest demo, attached it, and typed:
Please tell me what's wrong with this before I throw my laptop out the window.
The chorus sounds weird and I'm losing my mind.
She hit send and tossed her phone onto the desk.
Done.
Problem solved.
Now all she had to do was wait.
While waiting, she got up and stretched her arms above her head. Every bone in her body cracked.
Wonderful.
A true sign of youth.
She walked over to the small coffee machine in the corner and poured herself what was probably her fourth coffee of the night. Or fifth. She had stopped counting.
By the time she returned to her desk, her phone buzzed.
Y/N immediately grabbed it.
"Finally."
She expected to see her friend's name.
Instead, her stomach dropped.
The sender wasn't her friend.
It wasn't even close.
Her eyes widened.
Lee Jihoon.
For a moment she genuinely thought she was hallucinating. Then she opened the message.
The lyrics are good.
The chorus is overcrowded.
The bass is fighting for its life.
Y/N stared.
Read it again.
Then once more.
"The bass is fighting for its life?" she repeated aloud.
What did that even mean?
More importantly—why was Lee Jihoon texting her?
She quickly opened the message thread, checked the recipient, then checked it again. Her soul nearly left her body.
"Oh my god."
She had sent the demo to him.
Not her friend.
Him.
Out of all people.
Producer. Songwriter. Creative genius. One of the most respected producers in the industry.
And she had basically emailed him:
help before I throw my laptop out the window.
Fantastic.
Absolutely fantastic.
Y/N immediately started typing.
I'm so sorry.
That wasn't supposed to go to you.
I meant to send it to a friend.
Sorry for bothering you.
The response came almost instantly.
You already did.
Y/N blinked.
Then laughed despite herself.
Wow.
He really was as blunt as everyone said.
She typed back.
Fair enough.
Sorry again.
A few seconds passed before another message appeared.
The chorus still needs work.
Y/N stared at the screen.
Was he still talking about the song?
I know.
That's why I wanted help.
The typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then appeared again.
Do you know why it sounds crowded?
Y/N looked at her screen, then at the project file, then back at her phone.
Not really.
Exactly.
She frowned.
What does that mean?
It means you're changing things without understanding the problem.
Y/N felt personally attacked.
Wow.
Thank you for the encouragement.
You're welcome.
She nearly threw her phone.
Over the next twenty minutes, the conversation somehow continued. Every answer he gave created three new questions. Every explanation somehow confused her more. Eventually she ended up staring at the screen with a headache.
Finally she sent:
I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about anymore.
The reply came immediately.
I noticed.
Y/N groaned.
A second later another message arrived.
Answer your phone.
Before she could process what that meant, her screen lit up.
Incoming FaceTime.
From Lee Jihoon.
"What?!"
She nearly dropped her coffee.
The call continued ringing. For several seconds she simply stared at it. Then, with absolutely no preparation whatsoever, she accepted.
The screen connected.
Jihoon appeared.
Black hoodie. Messy hair. Headphones hanging around his neck. A half-empty coffee cup sitting beside him.
He looked exactly like someone who hadn't slept properly in days.
The first thing he said was:
"You look confused."
"Hello to you too."
"You don't understand compression."
Y/N stared.
"That's your greeting?"
"It's an observation."
"I understand compression."
"No."
"I do."
"No."
"Jihoon."
"You don't."
She already wanted to hang up.
Unfortunately, he was also helping.
So she stayed.
Over the next few hours, Jihoon walked her through everything. He shared his screen, muted tracks, explained frequencies, adjusted layers, and showed her exactly where sounds were clashing with each other.
At first she understood maybe ten percent of what he was saying.
Then twenty.
Then fifty.
Little by little, the song started making sense.
And for the first time all night, she felt like she was actually learning something.
Time passed faster than she expected.
One hour.
Then two.
Then three.
At some point she had moved from her chair to the couch in the corner of the studio. Jihoon was still talking. Something about transitions. Or layering. Or maybe both.
Honestly, she was struggling to keep her eyes open.
"You still there?" he asked.
"Mhm."
"You sound asleep."
"I'm listening."
"You just said 'mhm.'"
"I did not."
"You literally did."
Y/N yawned.
The blanket hanging over the back of the couch suddenly looked incredibly inviting. Her eyelids felt heavier by the second.
Jihoon continued explaining something.
She tried to focus.
Really.
She did.
But the combination of exhaustion, coffee wearing off, and his oddly calming voice made it impossible.
Her head slowly sank against the cushion.
A few moments later, silence.
Jihoon looked at the screen.
"...Y/N?"
No answer.
"...Y/N."
Still nothing.
He sighed.
The camera showed her curled up on the couch, completely asleep, her phone still balanced beside her.
For a moment he just stared.
Then shook his head.
"Unbelievable."
Yet despite the words, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
A few minutes later he stood from his chair, grabbed his laptop, and headed toward the door. If she was going to pass out in the studio, someone should at least make sure she didn't freeze.
And besides—
Her song was still driving him crazy.
Jihoon pushed the studio door open with his shoulder, his laptop tucked under one arm. The room was quiet except for the low hum of the computer still running on Y/N's desk. His gaze immediately found her asleep on the couch, exactly as she'd been when the FaceTime call ended. A strand of hair had fallen across her face and her phone was still resting dangerously close to the edge of the cushion.
He sighed.
"How are you even alive?"
For a moment he simply stood there before grabbing the blanket draped over a nearby chair and carefully laying it over her. Y/N shifted slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling back into sleep. When she didn't wake up, Jihoon finally stepped away and looked toward the monitor on her desk.
The unfinished song was still open.
At first, he only intended to leave a few notes. Maybe fix one or two things that had been bothering him. Then he would go home.
Instead, he sat down.
One adjustment became another. Then another. Every time he thought he was finished, something else caught his attention. The annoying part was that the song actually had potential. The lyrics were strong, the melody was memorable, and despite all its flaws, the idea behind it was good. Really good.
Which was exactly why he couldn't leave it alone.
Hours passed without him noticing. Outside the windows, the dark sky slowly began to lighten. Empty coffee cups gathered beside the keyboard while the project file became cleaner and cleaner. By the time he finally leaned back in his chair, the chorus breathed naturally, the arrangement flowed smoothly, and the bass was no longer, as he'd so eloquently put it, fighting for its life.
A few feet away, Y/N remained completely asleep.
Jihoon glanced toward her and immediately looked back at the screen. Then, after a few seconds, looked over again.
Still asleep.
How was she sleeping this much?
Shaking his head, he left the studio and returned a short while later carrying two coffees and a small box of donuts. If she was going to panic when she woke up, she could at least do it with breakfast.
The building had already started waking up by the time Y/N finally stirred. Sunlight filtered through the windows and faint voices echoed from somewhere down the hallway. Her brows furrowed as she stretched beneath the blanket, clearly confused about why she wasn't in her chair anymore.
Then she opened her eyes.
For several seconds she simply stared at the ceiling before abruptly sitting upright. The blanket slipped from her shoulders as her gaze landed on Jihoon.
He looked up from his laptop.
"Morning."
Y/N stared.
Jihoon stared back.
Neither moved.
Finally she pointed at him.
"Why are you here?"
"You fell asleep."
"I can see that."
"You seemed comfortable."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Jihoon shrugged, causing Y/N to look around the room. The blanket. The couch. The sunlight streaming through the windows. The coffee sitting on the table. Slowly, realization began settling in.
"Wait," she said. "You came here?"
"Yes."
"You left your studio?"
"Yes."
"You stayed all night?"
Jihoon looked away.
Which was answer enough.
Y/N stared at him in complete disbelief. Before she could say anything else, he pushed a coffee and a donut toward her.
"Breakfast."
"A donut?"
"Breakfast."
She accepted both automatically while still trying to process the situation. Then Jihoon turned the monitor toward her.
"Look."
The moment Y/N saw the project file, she froze.
The arrangement had changed. New layers had been added. The transitions sounded smoother. The chorus, which had been driving her insane only hours ago, suddenly sounded alive.
Her eyes widened.
"Jihoon..."
She clicked through the tracks one by one, noticing adjustment after adjustment.
"You did all this?"
"Some of it."
She looked at him.
"Some of it?"
"Most of it."
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
"You didn't have to do that."
For the first time all morning, Jihoon seemed slightly uncomfortable. His fingers tapped lightly against the desk before he glanced away.
"Yeah."
A brief silence settled between them.
"But I liked your idea."
Y/N looked back at the screen.
Somehow, out of everything he'd said since last night, those four words meant the most.
seungcheol's hand curls around your own as he tugs it over to him with no resistance, leaving you to try and type one-handed at your laptop for the moment. you don't ask questions (seungcheol has always been the kind to surprise you with little things like this), but you do look over to see that he's sporting his own matching ring to the one he's sliding onto one of your fingers. he looks up at you, hair hanging in his eyes, and grins before pressing his lips against the ring.
"it reminded me of you, so i got it." he lets go of your hand, and you hold it up to survey the ring. the pattern does seem like something you'd like, and this is far from the first pair of rings the two of you have bought for one another, so it's a perfect fit. "do you like it?"
"it's pretty," you hum, and your hand cups his jaw. "not as pretty as you, but pretty."
he just scrunches his nose in response, smiling as best as he can when you squish his face a little bit more. seungcheol frees himself easily enough, leaning over just to press a lingering kiss against the side of your face before he gets back up to go put away the rest of his little shopping haul. he'll tell you about the time he spent with friends once you're done with your work.
but you wait until he gets a few steps away to call out, "you don't love me enough to kiss me right?"
all it takes is the sound of his thundering steps for you to know you've got him, hook, line, and sinker. he leans over your chair to kiss you properly, and you feel the way he smiles against your lips before pulling away again with that damn twinkle in his eyes. "hi," he says softly. "i love you."
he's too easy sometimes to tease. you just smile, blowing him a kiss as he walks away. "love you, too, silly."
summary: when you can't sleep, you call minghao for help
word count: 870
Masterlist
Minghao is pulling down the covers when his phone rings. It’s another hotel bed, another set of sheets tucked in so tightly that he has to fight not to tear them as he angles them out. It’s impressive really, the skill it takes to make such neat creases, but he’s tired and right now it’s just a pain.
The show was long. Fun, like always, but he’s running on fumes at this point. The catered food made his stomach ache and after the extra long hot shower, the rest of his body aches, too.
All he wants is a good night’s sleep.
That’s when your name pops up on his phone. It vibrates against the mattress as he stares at it, trying to understand why you’re calling now.
“Love–”
“I’m okay,” you say quickly. “Nothing’s wrong.”
His tension ebbs. “Love, it’s awfully late.”
“I know, but I couldn’t sleep.”
He hums, shifting the phone to his other ear. “Did you try the tea I gave you?”
“Yep. Brewed it exactly how you showed me.”
You sound sincere this time. He knows how much it goes against your instinct to throw out the first cup. Hell, you don’t even use loose leaf tea half the time. You drink your water iced and your tea strong and lukewarm, because you forget about the tea bag. You forget about the tea.
“I tried meditating, too.”
That’s pretty bad then. No matter how often Minghao extolls the health benefits of meditation, you can’t sit still for more than two minutes. The longest you manage to sit still is when he’s meditating and you’re watching him. You claim that admiring him is more relaxing than measured breathing.
Hansol often jokes that Minghao’s dating a heathen. Sometimes, when he witnesses enough of your antics, Minghao agrees.
And yet hearing your voice is like a balm for his exhaustion. He slides into the bed, using his body to loosen up the rest of the bedding. The sheets are too crisp, the mattress too soft. Nothing smells like you.
But with your voice in his ear, he can almost pretend you’re here.
“I miss you.”
“I’m coming home tomorrow,” he reminds you.
“I know. But I miss you now.”
Sometimes when he’s traveling, the two of you will play games. “I miss you” is often code for something else, something more. But there’s no tease in your voice tonight.
It’s been a long tour. He wants to kiss you, wants to feel your body against his, but more than anything he wants you see you smile. Hear your laugh. You got a haircut while he was away and he’s seen photos, but it’s not the same as seeing it in person.
“I miss you, too,” he says, and the yearning in his voice matches yours.
He hears you shifting, imagines you snuggling deeper into bed.
“Tell me about the concert.”
“Soonyoung made a mistake.”
“Really?” Your soft laugh makes him grin. “I love how that’s the first thing you have to say.”
Perhaps a bit childish, but Minghao enjoys remembering the look on his leader’s face when he realized Minghao caught his error. After all, Minghao’s been caught plenty of times now.
“Hansol was flirting with you again,” you prompt.
Minghao sighs. “It’s just the angle of the fancams.”
“Nope. It’s definitely not.”
“You’re really jealous. Of Hansol.”
“Maybe I’m jealous of you.”
“Very funny.”
Reaching over, Minghao clicks off the light. Now it’s only the light from his phone, dim and a bit liminal. Like this, he could be anywhere.
Well, almost anywhere. Not home with you, where he really wants to be. Not yet at least.
“When things quiet down, I’m going to take you to Hangzhou.”
“Mm? Is it pretty there?” you ask sleepily.
“Beautiful. It was raining while we were there so the tea bushes looked extra vibrant.”
Your words are slower now. “Ah, of course you had tea.”
He can’t help but tease you. “Hansol came with me. He didn’t even slurp this time.”
“Good for him.”
“Hangzhou is one of my favorite cities in the world,” he continues. “There’s a famous lake there, too.”
You surprise him by mumbling, “Xi Lake.” When he doesn’t immediately respond, you add, “I listen when you talk, Hao.”
“You do. Do you remember what else I like about it?”
“Tell me again.”
So he tells you about the poets, about the misty, rainy weather he so enjoys, and again about the tea. He forgets how tired he is as he speaks, too busy envisioning taking you to all these places. To show you the things he loves, that would be a gift.
It’s only when he realizes that you haven’t responded in a while that he pauses.
“Love?”
Nothing. If he tries really hard, he can make out the sound of your even breathing, but that’s likely more his imagination than reality.
His thumb hovers over the red bubble; in the end, he sets the phone down on the pillow beside him. Minghao smiles as he settles in to sleep, knowing that you’re already doing the same. Tomorrow he’ll fall asleep with his arms around you; tonight though, you’re at his side.
summary: you want to read; seungcheol just wants to be close to you
word count: 757
another short, just because.
Masterlist
Seungcheol is not good at entertaining himself.
You’re curled up on the sofa with a new novel, enjoying the personal time you’ve carved out just for this activity. A breeze ruffles the curtains, occasionally lifting the page of your book. An open bag of cookies rests on the sofa arm beside you.
He’s trying, and you know it. After all, you respect his personal time when he games with Wonwoo, spends hours shouting and swearing at the computer screen. You’ve chosen a quieter hobby, but your time is no less precious. He knows this; he still wants more of it.
So he hovers, moving from room to room, throwing you yearning glances that you ignore in favor of turning pages. He’s bored, and a bored Seungcheol never keeps to himself for very long.
Sure enough, twenty pages and four cookies in, he pads over to you. Your gaze flickers towards him as he settles down on the cushion beside you.
“What are you doing?”
He lifts up the book he’s holding. “I’m going to read with you.”
Laughing, you say, “No. You’re going to fall asleep.”
As expected, his lower lip juts out immediately. “I won’t! Just ignore me, I’m not even here.”
“Mhm.” You pass him a cookie and go back to your book.
Another few minutes tick by. You can feel Seungcheol shifting beside you. Finally, he lowers his head into your lap, tucking himself just under your arm.
You move your book so you can look down at him. “Getting ready to sleep?”
He scowls up at you, thick brows pulling tight. It never ceases to amuse you how your buff, manly boyfriend manages to look like such a pouty child half the time.
“I won’t,” he asserts. “I’m just getting comfortable.”
“Uhuh.”
You lift your arms a little higher to accommodate him and turn another page. This book is more compelling than you expected, because you find yourself absorbed in it. All thoughts of your fidgety boyfriend disappear as you eat up line after line, consuming the story as quickly as you can. It’s not often that you find a book this good; by the time you reach a stopping point, you’re a little dazed. Tucking your receipt back between the pages, you blink a few times to reorient yourself.
You haven’t heard from Seungcheol in a while. When you set your book down, you find him sound asleep. His head is turned towards you, cheek pressed against your thigh. You’re not sure when he fell asleep, but it couldn’t have been long. The book he chose is hugged close to his chest, bookmark in the same place it was before.
Told you so, you think, but you can’t help but feel fond. He’s so pretty like this, full lashes stark against his warm skin, lips gently parted as he breathes. You try to go back to your book but you’re no longer interested. Instead, you watch him sleep, just like you do on mornings when you wake up first and there’s nowhere to be.
It’s a view you never get tired of.
It’s only when your leg starts to tingle that you shift, making his breath catch.
“Cheol,” you whisper, stroking your thumb over his cheek. “Time to wake up.”
His dark eyes find yours, half-lidded, still hazy with sleep. “Mm…”
You watch with amusement as awareness washes over him like a lazy wave.
“I fell asleep,” he tells you sheepishly.
“Yes, I noticed,” you tease. “Just like I said you would.”
He cranes his neck up and catches sight of your book, closed on the sofa arm beside the half-empty box of cookies. “Are you done?”
“For now.”
“Does that mean we can do something together now?”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t hold back your smile.“You can’t handle being alone, can you?”
“Not if you’re around, no.”
The earnest way he says it makes your heart flutter. It’s too sweet–you can’t even tease him about it. And even though you sometimes pretend otherwise, you love the way he’s attracted to you, like your opposite magnet.
Combing your fingers through his hair, you ask, “Okay then, what do you want to do?”
Seungcheol leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut again. “Doesn’t matter. Just wanna be with you.”
It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. Picking up your book, you crack it open. “Reading it is, then.”
