#svt reader
Text
What? Like It’s Hard?
gn reader x soonyoung
summary: With the help of a little bit of bleach, Soonyoung is certified legally blonde–complete to last minute-dedication to scoring as high as Elle Woods on the LSAT. While he has no interest in law school, he’s notorious for never turning down a dare. So how does a frat bro in serious danger of failing his senior year get a 179? He asks the smartest person he knows.
Or, studying for a law test has never seen this much chemistry.
genre: fluff, angst, non-idol au, uni au, friends to lovers, opposites attract
warnings: swearing, drinking, food, arguing, a couple sex jokes, one spicy scene at the end but no actual smut, refusal to acknowledge feelings, what's the word for beyond oblivious????
full wc: 24.3k
playlist! - i'm not very good at this but i tried to add songs alternating between yn and soonyoung :)
a/n: hello!! first of all, sorry this so long! it's been a very very busy summer. thank you to everyone who has continued to show interest in the story, it's really kept me going. i honestly have no idea what this is anymore but i hope it does not disappoint :) as always i appreciate feedback of any form <3 thank you again for reading and have a lovely day! finally, happy scoups day :)
a/n2: a special shout out to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta and for helping me fact check... why do i keep writing about lawyers when i know absolutely nothing about the field.......
“Nope.” You grab your backpack, shoving your laptop inside, but he gets to your water bottle before you can reach it.
“Come on.” Soonyoung pouts his lips.
“I won’t do it,” you say.
Soonyoung hugs your water bottle hostage against his chest, dark blue hiding in the crook of his elbow, bright against the pale pink sweater he wears. It’s an unusual choice for him, normally clad in baggy jeans and loose t-shirts. Still, the color highlights his new hair, blonde bordering on white. Hardly the first time he’s done something insane for a bet.
“Please! I’m desperate!” He cries again, stepping closer, though he keeps a firm grip on your water bottle. You never should have told him how emotionally attached you are to it; you should have known it would be held against you.
“No,” you say. You sling your backpack on, just in case he gets any other ideas. The other students shoot dirty looks at you, actually in the library to study (like you were, until Soonyoung arrived). So you grab him by the arm, rolling your eyes at how he jerks the water bottle out of reach.
“Walk and talk, we’re not doing this here,” you say, folding your arms over your chest.
“Come on, how hard can it be?” Soonyoung asks. “It’s just a test.”
“Just a test?” You snort. “Soonyoung, you are aware that most people don’t apply to law school on a dare?”
“I don’t have to get into law school!” He says, “just get a 179 on the LSAT.”
As if that makes it any better. You eye Soonyoung and his tight grip on the plastic. Maybe it’s a lost cause and you should just swing by the bookstore to get a new one instead. But that water bottle has butterfly stickers that have survived since freshman year and a dent from the time Jun tried to use it as a weapon in a fight against Jihoon (that was declared a draw when the bottle busted open and doused both of them equally); it holds memories better than water and you’ll be damned if you let Soonyoung hold it hostage.
“That’s actually harder,” you mumble. From the corner of your eye, you can see him tucking the blue bottle under his right arm, farthest from you. This won’t be easy, especially since you saw the poorly disguised thirst trap of him and one of his frat bros at the gym: those arms are not to be underestimated.
“I’ll pay you!”
“With what money?”
Soonyoung pauses. You’ve reached the exit by now, sunlight warming you through the glass doors. He turns to the sunlight, and you know he’s pretending to be a main character from an artsy film (not that he’s ever seen on). He takes a deep breath, as if he already regrets what he has to say next.
“Okay, I’ll offer you the only services I have.” He turns to face you, eyes on the floor.
“Oh my god, Soonyoung!” You shove his shoulder. “You are not selling your body for a test!”
“But it’s all I know!” He says. He pokes your arms. “You could have so much muscle if you lifted just twice a week.”
“Oh.” You blink at him. “You meant working out?”
“What did you think I meant?”
You feel heat rush into your cheeks. You push the door open, praying Soonyoung doesn’t notice. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, not daring to check if he’s following. “I don’t have time to workout.”
“Then what do you want?” Soonyoung asks. He stays just out of reach, adjusting his grip so that the water bottle hangs from his hand. “Please, I’ll do anything!”
“Why do you need me?”
“Because you’re the smartest person I know,” he says without hesitation. In the three years of your friendship, you’ve learned that the only time Soonyoung isn’t serious is when he flirts.
“You are,” he insists. “Plus you’ve already taken it, so you’re my best chance. My only chance, it’s not like I have a good track record with tests.” He gives you a lopsided smile as he tries to pretend like he’s joking. But Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You see the sparkle in his eyes dim, and you remember freshman Soonyoung–when he failed the midterm and holed up in his room in the frat house for two full days, not even venturing out to drink. It’s that damn sparkle that gets to you. He isn’t paying attention anymore, water bottle hanging loosely from his hand, but you can’t bring yourself to snatch it.
“You can pass it,” you say with a sigh. “It’s about studying correctly.”
“I don’t know,” Soonyoung says. “I’ve never really studied.”
“Well, that’s what I’ll teach you.”
Soonyoung freezes, grabbing your arm. “Seriously?” When you turn to face him, his smile is so bright it warms you from the inside out, hotter than the actual sun on your skin. He throws his arms around you, wrapping you in a hug so tight he lifts you off the ground. Your heart does this strange thing where it hops into your throat. Your arms come up as a reflex but his embrace is too tight for you to even hug him back.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He shouts. He doesn’t let go, even when he sets you back down. He loosens his arms just enough to look at you, the full force of his smile directed at you. “I swear you’re welcome at the frat house any time, I’ll buy you anything you want when I have money, I’ll drive you wherever you want if I can get Seungcheol’s car, I’ll do whatever, just thank you, thank you, thank you.”
You know you should answer, or say something, but thinking is too much when he’s so close you can smell the strangely sweet combination of laundry detergent, cologne, and sweat. You push out of his arms, snagging your water bottle on the way out.
“It’s whatever,” you mumble. Though his arms aren’t around you anymore, you feel strangely hot, like your blood is boiling, and your heart still pounds.
“It is not whatever,” Soonyoung declares. “I swear, whatever you want, I’ll do it.” He holds a hand over his heart and if it was anyone else you’d think they were joking but it’s Soonyoung: he’s deadly serious.
You can’t handle his gaze anymore, turning to study your beat up sneakers. “Really? You’ll get my first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice from Jun?”
“I’ll get that book back.” He glances at you. “It is a book, right?”
“Yeah,” you say. “Though there’s been some good adaptations.”
“That’s the one with the zombies?”
“Zombies?” You frown. “Oh my god, do you mean Pride and Prejudice and Zombies?”
“That’s not the original book?”
“No,” you say, laughing. “The original is Jane Austen, in the 1800s.”
“Oh,” Soonyoung says.
“I’ve actually never seen that one,” you say. “It’s the only adaptation I haven’t seen.”
“How many movies are there?”
“Well, there’s the 1940 adaptation, the BBC series that’s widely regarded as the most faithful adaptation, the 2005 Kiera Knightley movie that’s iconic, plus the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, which is a vlog-style Youtube adaptation. Then of course there’s Jane Austen’s other works, like Persuasion, which, the new one, for the record, was a terrible adaptation.” You stop when you realize you’re dangerously close to going on what Jihoon calls ‘an Austen tirade.’
“I liked the movie,” he says after a pause. “I don’t know if it was that good, or close to the books. But it was fun.”
“I’ll have to watch it, then,” you say. “I know it’s the obvious choice, but Pride and Prejudice really is my favorite Jane Austen novel. Good luck getting it back from Jun though. He’s studying abroad this semester.”
“He’s the friend from your history class?”
“No, that’s Jihoon, my roommate,” you say. “Jun was in my language class.”
“I thought you hated everyone in that class.”
“Oh, I did,” you say. “But Jun is friends with Jihoon, so he sort of just became my friend too.”
Soonyoung hums, saying nothing else. You don’t recognize the song, though you tend to mostly listen to classical music when you study or whatever Jihoon blasts from his room, so it’s not that surprising. The melody is nice, though. Well, Soonyoung’s voice is.
“I really am grateful,” Soonyoung says. “I know I was begging, because I don’t think I can do this without you–well, I don’t know if I can do it with you, but you’re my only hope and–I’m rambling again.” He flashes a smile. “The point is, thank you.”
You shrug, feeling shy under his gaze. “It’ll help me study anyways,” you say. “You learn a lot when you teach.”
“I thought you already took it?”
“I only got a 150,” you say, sighing. “I need at least a 165.”
Soonyoung nods, forehead creasing like it always does when he’s lost in thought. “Thank you anyway.”
“Well, you swore to do whatever I tell you,” you say, desperate to change the subject. “Don’t think I won’t abuse that.”
“Oh, YN,” he says, “I’m counting on it.” He even winks.
You cough, choking at the outright flirting. Soonyoung hasn’t tried a line on you in so long you thought he’d used them all. He isn’t serious–it was engraved in his DNA the second he became a fully fledged member of Sigma Beta Tau but it’s not like many people flirt with you, so it’s hard to stop your heart from jumping.
You check your phone, unable to look him in the eyes. It’s 2:18 now, prime naptime if you can get back to your apartment before Jihoon gets back. But if it’s past two, unless he lied to you at the start of the semester, that means Soonyoung should be in his data ethics class. “Hey, don’t you have class right now?”
Soonyoung glances at the time on his phone. “Shit.” He takes off, sprinting across the grass, dodging three picnics and narrowly avoiding getting rocked in the back of the head by a frisbee. He pauses at the edge, turning back around to wave wildly at you.
“Thank you!” He shouts. The picnickers glance between you and him and you can feel the blush returning. Soonyoung doesn’t notice all the eyes on him, waving like a goofball one final time before sprinting off again. Like a whirlwind, he’s gone again, leaving you to stroll across campus and wonder what you just signed up for.
.
.
Soonyoung’s brow furrows into a frown, lips pulling together in a pout. He rests his chin on his hands, looking up at you from the table like a puppy that knows he’s in trouble. “That bad?”
“Your analytical reasoning was good!” You say, not wanting to destroy him just yet. “The logical analysis wasn’t that bad either, you just need practice.”
“Wasn’t there a third section?”
“The score for reading comprehension was pretty bad.” Horrendous, actually, but you can’t tell him that, not when he’s deflating faster than a balloon at a knife throwing contest. He sits back, head knocking lightly against the back of the stiff library chairs.
“We can work with this! It’s really not that bad,” you say. You reach out instinctively, wrapping your hands over his hands. Your thumb rests against the soft smooth skin of the back of his hand, the rest of your fingers brushing lightly against his calloused fingers. You jerk back when you realize what you’re doing, patting his hands once and grabbing the workbook in front of him as if it’s what you meant to do all along. You study the upside down words, not daring to look at the disgust that’s probably painted on Soonyoung’s face.
“You can start with practicing the logic problems,” you say, flipping through the work book. “I’ll figure out a strategy for the reading portion.”
Soonyoung heaves a sigh, sitting up and hunching over the workbook. You flip open one of your old workbooks and try to pretend like you’re not trying to melt away from embarrassment.
“This isn’t very much teaching,” Soonyoung says without looking up. “Lots of problem solving.”
“I don’t really know what I’m doing either,” you say. “I just watched a lot of youtube videos when I was studying last year. I should have known better than to take it over the summer, though.”
Soonyoung glances up. “How come?”
You chew on your lip. You’ve known Soonyoung for a while now, but you’ve never talked to him like this, mentioning any real things other than complaining about roommates. Soonyoung would listen, probably say the ‘right’ things, but it’s a study session, so you just say, “Just not good timing.”
He nods, returning to his humming. You turn to your own workbook, trying to figure out how to get Soonyoung to actually read the passages for the reading comprehension. Twenty minutes pass in an instant and Soonyoung drops his pencil, sliding his journal with the answers back in front of you. You flip to the answer key, scanning between the two.
“When are you taking it again?” Soonyoung asks while he waits.
“Just before Halloween,” you say. Exactly 38 days from now, according to the IMPENDING DOOM countdown clock on your phone.
“That soon?”
You shrug. “I wanted to give myself time to take it again in case I bomb it and it had to be before midterms, so, yeah.”
“Is it really that bad to take all your tests at once?” Soonyoung asks.
“I mean, finals week pretty much kills me every semester. I actually thought I was cutting it close with only two weeks between it and midterms.”
“Is November cutting it too close?”
“Depends on when in November you plan on taking it,” you say, “though you probably won’t be able to take it again if you don’t like your score.”
“Not a problem for me,” Soonyoung says. He doesn’t waver against your raised eyebrow. “I’m getting that 179, first try.”
“You’re that confident?”
“In you.” He winks. “Also the bet is off if I don’t get it on the first try.”
You nod. “Yeah, that makes more sense.” You glance at your calendar. “
“November 18th.”
“That’s not too bad, you dodged between midterms and finals, there should be plenty of cram time.”
Soonyoung shrugs. “I just scheduled it so that I would get the results before the Christmas party.”
“I didn’t think you would be the religious type.”
“Oh, I’m not,” he says. “The frat has this annual post-finals party before people go back home for holiday break, usually on the last day of finals. There’s no way I’m letting Seungkwan get away with my hard earned Playstation, and there’s no way he’d miss the party.”
“You can’t just buy your own game?”
“It’s a console actually,” he says, “and that’s not the point.” You prepare for some lecture about honor or frat code or something overly dramatic and inspired by any of the countless war propaganda movies he loves, but he closes his mouth.
“I guess it doesn’t really matter,” you say. You turn back his sheet, half the answers marked with a dark blue X because red feels too cruel. “You’re clearly committed.”
He sighs at the answers, flipping back to the first question and frowning. You think the conversation is over, but without looking up from glaring at the right answers, he says, “You should come.”
“To?”
“The Christmas party.”
You stare at the top of his head but he doesn’t seem to notice. You wonder how he manages to keep his hair so blonde without ruining his scalp but you don’t see any dandruff. “Me?” You finally say.
“You said you’d come, like, freshman year,” he says. “You never did.”
You did promise, back when you saw him for class every day. But frat parties weren’t your scene back then. They aren’t your scene now. Nothing about blasting music and binge drinking appeals to you, and yet Soonyoung peeking at you from his notebook makes you feel guilty anyways. He looks at you like he really doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to go.
And that’s the worst part: for Soonyoung, you would go. When he looks at you with the damn Soonyoung Sparkle, you’d do anything.
“I’ll… think about it,” you finally say.
He looks at you for a moment longer, then nods, like he didn’t really expect you to say yes. You try not to feel like you’re letting him down.
“Can you explain this one to me,” he asks, turning the book so you can see it from across the table.
You skim the question, which turns out to be a series of questions about stained glass windows. You take a moment to glance between Soonyoung’s answers and the correct ones.
“Walk me through your process,” you say.
“Okay, I start with…”
.
.
“Soonyoung, are you even listening?”
He blinks at you, lifting his head from his arms. “Something about strategies? For reading?”
You snap the book shut, shaking your head. You open your mouth, speech on responsibility and studying on the tip of your tongue but one look into Soonyoung’s Sparkle Eyes (patent pending) and all the words are gone. You really need to figure out how to get around that super power.
“Come on, it’s so nice out,” he says. “We should be outside.” He grabs your hand. “This is not studying weather, this is dating weather.”
“Soonyoung your test is in two months, you seriously want to skip?” You don’t dignify the second part of his complaint with a response. The idea of Soonyoung on a date makes your stomach flip.
He sighs. “No, but it’s October, we won’t get many more nice days, so can we at least go outside?”
You hesitate a heartbeat too long and Soonyoung jumps up. He closes the workbook, knocking loose papers off the table and sending highlighters of every color flying in every direction. The chaos earns a couple side eyes from the people around you and a full on glare from the person directly next to him, but Soonyoung, as Soonyoung as ever, doesn’t seem to notice. He picks up the papers and highlighters, shoving them into his backpack without a folder and slinging it over his shoulder. You can only follow him, grabbing the drinks before he tries to carry them along his laptop. When it comes to Soonyoung, mixing liquids and technology is more dangerous than mixing alcohols. You haven’t forgotten The Coffee Incident, flooding his backpack at 8 in the morning.
He drags you out of the library, though you don’t put up much of a fight. Soonyoung makes you want to relax, just a little, and when he smiles back at you as soon as he steps out of the sunlight, you find you don’t regret a thing.
Soonyoung pulls his emergency blanket out of his blanket, passing it to you. He’s more prepared for naps than any class he’s ever taken but the thin fabric is soft so who are you to judge? He heads straight for the quad, which is already filled with people, some groups of friends, too many obvious couples with heads in each other's laps or arms wrapped around each other. Soonyoung settles down in a relatively unpopulated corner, taking the blanket back to shake it out the blanket a few times before laying it flat on the ground.
Soonyoung groans when you pull out the workbooks as soon as you sit down. “There isn’t anything more fun to study?”
“Soonyoung, it’s the LSAT,” you say. “It’s not really meant to be fun.”
“But–”
“You’re the one that wanted to go outside,” you remind him, tapping his arm with a pen. “If you’re too distracted we’ll have to go back into the library.”
He gazes at the other people laughing for a long moment before turning to face you again. You raise your eyebrows and he takes the workbook from your hands, flipping it open to the sticky-note bookmark.
The next twenty minutes are relatively quiet, the only noise coming from the chatter of the people around you, too far away to clearly hear, and Soonyoung humming while working through practice problems. You’re not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it, though he bobs his head slightly. You wonder what Soonyoung is like when he isn’t trying to get out of studying–even outside of the party invites you’ve avoided, you rarely see him on campus (because you aren’t on campus when you don’t have to be). You almost went to dinner with him to celebrate passing the business class freshman year where you met him, but you got food poisoning and he never rescheduled.
It’s for the best, though. Even like this, tutoring him minus payment of any kind, you can tell that spending too much time with him will be dangerous. He flirts so easily it feels genuine, and even though he can be ridiculous, he’s never been anything but lovely to you. And it doesn’t help that he’s hot. He glances up, as if he can feel you staring, but he just flashes a smile at you and ducks his head again. Damn frat bros with endearing charms that melt you like the perfect grilled cheese.
Perfectly blue without a cloud in sight, the sky is an empty canvas above you. The air is just the right temperature, just between hot and cold, the sun ensuring that it never dips into the latter. Just the slightest breeze kisses your skin, lifting the edges of the papers but never flipping them. Soonyoung was right: the perfect date weather.
“Soonyoung?” You turn your head to see a dark haired man standing over you. Wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and sides ripped open, you figure there’s a 80% chance he’s one of Soonyoung’s frat brothers.
“Seokmin?” Soonyoung frowns.
“You were actually serious?” Seokmin asks, gesturing to the books. “You know Seungkwan said it as a joke, right?”
“Yeah, but a bet is a bet,” Soonyoung says. “And I really want his Playstation.”
Seokmin snorts. “You know he only said it because he knows you can’t do it.”
“I’m not like I’m losing anything by trying.” Soonyoung sets his lips in a sharp line of determination (which you recognize from the dining hall when he sweet talks his way into free cookies). Seokmin raises his eyebrows at his aggression but eventually decides it’s not worth the fight. Instead, he plops down on the blanket, making a little triangle between the three of you.
“You must be YN,” he says, extending his hand. His easy smile and the way he sat down without waiting for an invitation reminds you of Soonyoung. Unlike the faux blonde, it feels foreign and you shift a little closer to Soonyoung instinctively.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you lie. Seokmin’s eyes curl into little half moons when he smiles, apparently not noticing your awkwardness. You can’t help but feel like he’s intruding as he turns to Soonyoung and asks him to explain what he’s doing. Soonyoung explains it well, though it helps that he was working on the analytical reasoning section.
It’s because he’s interrupting Soonyoung’s studying. That’s why it bothers you that he’s here, even though Soonyoung doesn’t seem to mind and Seokmin seems genuinely interested. Unfortunately, the revelation doesn’t stop you from wishing Seokmin would just leave.
“I don’t know how you do any of this,” Seokmin says after Soonyoung explains the next problem.
“It’s easy!” Soonyoung says. “Half the time the answer is in the question, you just have to know where to look!”
“Quoting me?” You raise your eyebrows.
“Well I did learn from the best!”
“So cliche,” you mutter but the compliment gets you smiling anyway. You look up to find Seokmin looking at you. He has a strange look on his face, frowning, but not angrily. He looks a little bit like when Soonyoung can’t decide between the right answer and the second best option. He doesn’t look away when you catch him staring.
“What?”
He pauses a long moment before answering, as if pondering how to answer. Finally, he says, “I like you.”
You stare at him. Soonyoung had been diligently working on practice problems but his head jerks up at the words.
“I mean, you’re a cool person,” Seokmin quickly says. “Good tutor for Soonyoung.” After hearing his name, Soonyoung grins and turns back to underlining in the workbook.
“Tutor?” You say. “I really don’t think I’m doing all that much.”
Seokmin shrugs. ”I don’t know many people that would spend this much time with someone if they aren't helping. Besides, either way, I’ve never seen Soonyoung this dedicated before.”
“That’s because you don’t dare to bet against me,” Soonyoung says without looking up.
“He might have a point there,” you say. Soonyoung takes a moment to smile at your support.
“What I’m trying to say is that you’re cool,” Seokmin says.
“Thank you?” You wait for him to say something else but he sits back and rests his hands behind him, stretching out in the sun a little more. Sighing, he tilts his head toward the sun.
“Seems like the weather will turn cold soon,” he says. “This might be the last warm day of the year.” He glances at Soonyoung. “And you’re spending it here instead of pre-gaming the Tau party.”
Soonyoung’s pencil freezes. He peeks up at Seokmin, then at you, then shrugs. “I take my bets seriously.”
“Whatever,” Seokmin says. He lays back fully, half of his body sticking off the blanket into the grass. “What are the Ke$ha lyrics? ‘The party don’t start ‘til Soonyoung walks in?’” He doesn’t wait for a correction. “I think I’ll wait until you're finished and we’ll tear it up together.”
Soonyoung glances at you, then unsuccessfully tries to hide his laughter at your expression. You don’t mean to be rude, but Seokmin really just invited himself all on his own and crashed your picnic. Study date. Outdoor study session. The name doesn’t matter, what does matter is it’s only supposed to be you and Soonyoung.
“He’ll fall asleep in about five seconds,” Soonyoung whispers. “He doesn’t actually care about the party, he just likes my nap blankets.” On that point you can’t really blame Seokmin.
“As long as it doesn’t disrupt your studying,” you say.
“Right,” Soonyoung says, more to himself than you. “That’s what’s important.”
You aren’t so oblivious that you miss his bitterness, but you are enough of a coward to decide not to ask about it. How do you even ask about something like that? You can barely answer his questions about the LSAT, so feelings? No chance.
You flip open your own workbook and set a pencil case down to keep the book open and ignore the soft snores from Seokmin. Soonyoung hums, the soft breeze carrying the gentle tune to you and easing you into a false sense of comfort, planting the idea that it’s always been like this and it always will be. But Soonyoung will take the LSAT in November and you will graduate in the spring and there won’t be any more excuses for seeing him, let alone laying out in the sun with him. Letting yourself enjoy this moment has dangerous consequences for your heart.
And yet you enjoy the warm sun on your skin and hum along with Soonyoung anyway. Seokmin is right: this kind of day won’t last long.
.
.
You jump awake at the sound. It takes you a moment to register where you are, to blink the sleep out of your eyes and recognize the stiff library chairs, the yellow tinted lighting of the study rooms on the third floor. Built like a prison cell with no windows and stained linoleum floors, you aren’t entirely sure how you fell asleep. The last thing you remember is working on your essay on Sense and Sensibility, which was rather difficult since you haven’t had the time to finish rereading it. Your book rests on the table next to your open laptop, screen dark.
A second knock reminds you why you woke up in the first place and you turn to the door. Through the glass door you see a student with a backpack hanging off their shoulder, half smiling. They turn the knob, opening the door just enough to stick their head in.
“Hey, sorry, I think I have the room scheduled,” they say.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I lost track of time,” you say, slamming your laptop shut and shoving everything into your backpack. To their credit, the other student doesn’t rush you, even apologizing and telling you to take your time. But if you’ve lost the room, that means the two hours you had booked the study room for–the two hours you designated for writing the essay and doing problem sets–were spent asleep, which means the LSAT cram schedule has been completely thrown off with only three days before the test.
You groan as you step into the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor. The farther up, the more intense the quiet levels get. Hopefully it won’t be so quiet that you fall asleep, but since you got a nap, you should be able to power through an all-nighter. It wouldn’t be the first time. You brace yourself to check your phone for the time, though being kicked out of the room means you already know your fate. 9:08 means that you have a little less than three hours until the library closes. You’ve done more with less time.
The first couple desks are occupied by students but you don’t stray, heading for a familiar corner, ignoring the empty desks that line the stacks. Your corner, that you found freshman year during finals season when you couldn’t find an empty desk, is perfect: hidden behind the encyclopedia shelves with a light directly above it, only three dicks carved into it–all on the underside (discovered on a particularly bad day where you found it most comfortable to lay underneath and rethink your entire life). You smile at the small comfort, striding through the stacks with Sense and Sensibility still in your arms.
You nearly drop the book when you see the backpack, abruptly turning despite the fact that it must have been obvious to whoever stole your corner that you were headed there. You feel rage boiling up and threatening to spill. You close your eyes, reminding yourself that the corner isn’t actually yours. Still, as you settle into a desk facing a giant window that reveals the dark campus, you can’t help but feel bitter. Your thoughts stray to the desk that should be yours, even as you pull out your computer.
BATTERY LOW
The words light up your screen, mocking you before the screen falls dark again. You dig in your backpack for your charger that you always slip into the main pocket. You feel your underused pencil pouch, the single journal since you keep most of your notes on your laptop, LSAT prep book, your three folders, and no charger. Even when you look inside and lay the entire contents of your backpack on the desk in front of you, the only charger you find is for your phone. Which means the longer laptop cord is probably sitting on your desk, all the way back at your apartment.
A twenty minute walk back, twenty minutes less for writing your essay. You can start it on your phone, maybe, though the thought of switching between reading the Sparknotes and typing already exhausts you. It’s moot anyways, since all you can do is sit and stare at the desk, covered in the contents of your soul. This is what your life has become: a stack of paper that weighs less than the digital universe on your laptop that’s all contingent on a $15 charger that abandons you when you need it most.
In the end it isn’t the rage that gets to you. It’s the hilarity of it all, how silly it is that your life is dictated by something so stupid.
The fifth floor decrees silence, so you make sure that your sobs don’t make a noise. You can’t control the tears but you can hold your breath. When your head starts to feel light and your lungs are desperate for air, you can breathe through your mouth and inhale as slow as you can to keep the shakiness to a minimum. You can do everything you can to hold it together, even when you’re falling apart.
Someone taps you on the shoulder. You lift your head, ready to face a tired librarian kicking you out but instead you see bleach blonde hair and a forced smile over a furrowed brow.
“What are you doing here?” You whisper, glad for the quiet because you don’t trust your voice to support you.
He holds up a thick, leatherbound book. LSAT for Dummies. “Extra reading couldn’t hurt, right?”
You blink at him. The only times you’ve seen Soonyoung in the library on his own has been with a thick blanket and closed eyes (it’s how you know he sleeps with his mouth open, just a little). You can’t quite believe he’s in front of you and yet he takes a step closer and doesn’t vanish.
“What are you doing here?” He asks.
“Shhh,” you say, holding your finger to your lips to get him to quiet down, even though there’s no one in sight. “Quiet floor.”
He nods, looking around as if he’s waiting for someone to kick him out. He turns to look at your desk, the contents of your backpack still strewn about. He tilts his head but doesn’t dare raise his voice to ask. You know he hasn’t missed the tears, still wet on your cheeks.
You done? He mouths.
Not even close, you think, but you nod anyways because it’s the easier answer. Soonyoung doesn’t hesitate, gently closing your laptop and sweeping everything into your backpack. You watch as he dumps it all into the biggest pocket, zipping it up and slinging it onto his back. He tucks the law book under his arm and holds out his other hand for you to take.
“Come on,” he whispers. And you take it, let him pull you out of your chair. The walk to the elevator; out of the library; toward the edge of campus; nothing feels far when Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your hand. You follow him in a daze, clinging to his hand in the off-chance that all your luck rides on him–like if you let go, you’ll lose your tether to this planet.
Soonyoung rarely walks in silence and today is not an exception. He rambles about the only member of the frat capable of cooking that apparently can’t do anything without creating a giant mess. Even as he complains about the guy, Soonyoung can’t help defending him, explaining in mouth-watering detail how good his food is.
“One time he crowd sourced some steaks and did a grill for the new pledges and they all thought it was a prank or something and nearly cried when he actually let them eat them. I think they burnt their mouths from eating it too fast, afraid someone was going to take it away from them.” Soonyoung stops at the edge of campus. He glances at you, a question in his eyes. Where are we going?
“Soonyoung,” you say. Squeezing his hand feels natural. “I don’t really want to go back right now.”
He nods, squeezing your hand back. “You want to go for a ride?”
“You have a car?”
“Nope.” Soonyoung fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes a call. You can only hear Soonyoung, who says, “I need a ride,” and “Pick me up by the duck statue,” and then he hangs up.
The edge of campus that Soonyoung drags you to is right next to the athletic fields, which explains why there is a giant statue of the mascot that towers over you. It has three of its own personal spotlights and shiny claws from fans rubbing them for good luck, despite there being no official tradition. You only went to one game, mostly to confirm you would rather be anywhere else (except maybe the bathroom of the stadium). Either way, the only thing you do know about the statue and mascot for your school is that it is not a duck.
“That’s a raven.” You point at the statue.
Soonyoung frowns between you and the hunk of metal. “Oh, Larry?”
“It has a name?”
“Well, there’s the official name, which is like, Midnight Rain or something, and the frat name.”
“And the frat name is Larry?”
Soonyoung shrugs. “I didn’t choose it.”
“And you call it a duck, too?”
“It looks like a duck.”
You study the statue. You aren’t an ornithologist, but you’re pretty sure ducks have webbed feet instead of talons, and different beaks. Plus you’ve never seen a pure black duck. But you’ve spent enough time with Soonyoung to know it doesn’t have to make sense when the frat is involved (in fact, you’ve found sense is rarely involved in their decisions).
“We just call it the duck. Or Larry, when we want to be formal.” Soonyoung jumps at the honk of a horn. You turn around with him to find an obnoxiously red convertible parked against the curb. The driver’s smooth black hair is styled to look effortless, hair falling just above his eyes, and he wears sunglasses despite the fact that the sun went down three hours ago. He might be attractive, if he wasn’t trying so hard. You never thought you had a type, but someone like Soonyoung, who wears clothes that he likes and sticks his hair straight up because he thinks it looks funny–that’s more your style.
“Here’s our ride,” Soonyoung says. He starts walking, pulling you with him, still holding your hand. You aren’t sure if he even realizes, but you’re in no hurry to remind him.
“Hey Josh,” he says.
Driver (Josh, apparently), finally pulls off his sunglasses. “Soonyoung, you have a friend.”
“I’m YN,” you say, wishing your voice didn’t sound so scratchy from crying.
“Oh, I know,” he says, a twinkle in his eye that flirts between danger and fun. “I’m Joshua.” You try not to feel unsettled by it. He raises an eyebrow as Soonyoung slides into the backseat and you sit beside him. “Am I just an Uber to you?”
“Seungcheol is out and I knew there was no way you would let me drive your car,” Soonyoung says.
“So, yes?”
Soonyoung shrugs and laughs at Joshua’s expression.
“Where are we headed?” He asks with a resigned sigh as if he’s used to Soonyoung’s antics. Has he done this before? You frown. Why does it matter to you if he’s done this with someone else? You’re so busy with the internal war, you miss Soonyoung’s answer.
“Seriously?” Joshua asks. “It’s a weeknight.”
“Like that’s ever been a problem for you.”
Joshua glances at you. “You’re okay with this?”
You pause. You don’t actually know where Soonyoung said to go. But it’s Soonyoung, your heart says. You're inclined to agree with it tonight. “Yeah.”
He shakes his head and mutters something you don’t catch and kicks the car into gear. Before long, you are flying down a two lane road you didn’t even know existed. The wind starts to pick up with the top of the car down, blasting your face. Though your nose is still stuffed from crying, the air fills your lungs, tasting like dead leaves and unnatural warmth courtesy of climate change. For the first time tonight, you can breathe.
.
.
The clock reads just shy of 1 am by the time the car stops. As soon as the rumbling engine cuts out, another noise takes over, drowning everything else out. Crashes too rhythmic to be thunder, the blows softened by tall dunes illuminated by the car’s headlights that Joshua didn’t turn off.
Soonyoung turns to you with a grin. “Ready to have some fun?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, jumping out of the car instead of opening the door, ignoring Joshua’s shout. He sprints toward the crashing waves.
Joshua shakes his head, opening his door and ushering you out from the back. He even closes the door behind you, folding his arms over his chest and walking slowly to the beach with you. The headlights cut out but the moon and stars shine enough to see where the boardwalk ends and the sand begins. Soonyoung’s movement gives him away more than any light, running alongside the water and dancing with the tide.
You clear your throat. The ride cleared your head enough for you to feel properly embarrassed about meeting someone right after sobbing. You shudder to imagine how terrible you looked when he first picked you up, clinging to Soonyoung like he was the only thing keeping you alive. A blush forms just at the thought of it.
“So, you do this often?” You ask.
“Do something truly insane because of Soonyoung? All the time.” Joshua laughs. “We don’t usually end up this far away though, and usually someone’s life is in imminent danger.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” you say, watching Soonyoung strip his socks and shoes off and toss them behind him. One sock gets caught in the wind and blows back toward you and Joshua.
Joshua stops before the two of you can catch up to him. You turn to look at him. It’s difficult to read his expression in the moonlight but he frowns like he’s not sure he should say something. Eventually he says, “I’m going for a walk down the boardwalk.” He glances at Soonyoung, then back at you and smiles. “Have fun with him.”
You watch him turn around and trudge back up the sand, wondering if all of Soonyoung’s friends are this strange. Maybe it’s just being in a frat. You grab Soonyoung’s sock and set it with his shoes, smiling when he turns around and waves like a maniac.
“It’s the ocean!” He shouts over the crashes.
“You’re soaked!” You shout back. He glances down and apparently finally realizes his shirt is wet, clinging to his shoulders already. He strides back toward you, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer.
“My shoes are not coming off!” You warn him.
“Just come closer!” He says. “It’s amazing!” You stand with him at the edge of the water, watching it rise in the darkness and draw closer and closer. It crashes on the sand first, a violent move, kicking up wet sand and mixing it with white water. The frothy white water creeps forward, until you have to dance backward. Soonyoung stays in the water, letting it wash around his feet.
“It feels better like this,” he says.
“My feet are covered in enough sand,” you say, though he does look like he’s having fun. The water must be freezing this time of the year–it would feel so nice running over your skin. But you’d end up with wet socks and even more sand in your shoes to clean out.
Soonyoung holds out his hand. “You’d like this.”
You chew on your lip. Normally you’d laugh in his face and say ‘not a chance.’ But normalcy has never been running three hours away to the beach in the middle of the night when you have class at 9 in the morning. You pull off the sneakers without untying them and pull your socks off, setting them next to Soonyoung’s and joining him at the edge of the water. His hand isn’t out by the time you return but he slips it into yours when you join his side.
Another wave crashes and you watch the water creep forward, faster than you expect it to be–and you’re right, it’s freezing, but Soonyoung’s right too, it sends an icy shock throughout your body that sends a tingly rush up from your toes to every nerve in your body, setting them on fire. You squeeze his hand and laugh.
“Good?” He asks.
“I love it.”
You don’t know how long you stand there, holding onto Soonyoung’s hand and letting the water wash over you. After a few waves, it doesn’t feel cold anymore. You stand until your feet are buried in wet sand, each wave sending you lower and lower.
“My feet are freezing,” Soonyoung eventually says.
“Mine, too.” You lift your feet reluctantly, already missing the coarse sand and cold water. You have to let go of Soonyoung’s hand to put on your socks and shoes, shuddering at all the sand in your socks. The cotton became damp from sitting too close to the water, your shoes faring the same. Yet you don’t regret a second of it.
You stand up and stretch, feeling your spine pop. When you turn back around, you almost scream. You manage to contain it to a gasp, a wheezing Soonyoung’s name. He blinks at you innocently, like he isn’t standing in front of you with his shirt in his hand.
“What are you doing?” You choke out.
“We’re at the beach,” he says. “I have to take pictures.”
“And you need to take off your shirt for that?”
“Why? Does it bother you?” He smirks.
Muscles have never been a selling point for you. The “people” you’ve crushed on have all been smart or kind, crushes of intellect rather than bodies. His toned abs, sculpted shoulders, the way his body curves gently as he allows you to stare at him–normally it wouldn’t get to you at all (other than the embarrassment of being this close to a shirtless man for the first time in a long time). But it’s not just the muscles. It’s Soonyoung, your Soonyoung who calls you at four in the morning to tell you about the movie he just finished and is too endearing for you to truly be annoyed at. It’s the Soonyoung that gets lost in the Engineering building even as a senior. It’s the Soonyoung that drags you to the beach in the middle of the night just to make you smile. Yes, it bothers you. No one should be this incredible and hot.
“No,” you mumble, failing to convince yourself of the lie.
Soonyoung seems to be done teasing you, dropping his shirt into your hands. He walks a little closer to the waves, apparently not bothered by the chilly ocean breeze. He starts to pose, then raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to take pictures?”
“Where’s your phone?”
“The camera’s broken,” he says. “Just use yours and you can send them to me.” He continues to pose, flexing his arms as subtly as he can which isn’t particularly subtle (though the muscles are even more impressive in person). You are tempted to reach out and feel the tension, before you realize you are staring again.
You numb to Soonyoung in this half-dressed state as you take the pictures. The frat must have a professional photographer or something, because Soonyoung knows how to pose. Despite some of the angles and positions seeming awkward, each picture comes out as if from a photoshoot. He only gives you a few instructions on taking pictures, and compliments you way beyond your talents.
“Just like that!” Soonyoung says, breaking his model face to grin at you. “You’re really good at this.”
“You can’t even see the pictures,” you say. You bite your lips so you don’t smile. Apparently that doesn’t matter, because he keeps posing. It’s a good thing you just upgraded your phone storage because you estimate at least a thousand pictures are taken for each pose.
“Are you guys done?” You jump at the voice next to you. Apparently Joshua returned from his walk, sneaking up using the crashing waves as cover. “We should head back soon if you want to make your morning classes.”
“Definitely want to,” you say. You haven’t gotten any work done, but that’s no excuse to skip class. Soonyoung pouts but doesn’t argue.
“Perfect!” Joshua claps his hands together. He shoves you toward Soonyoung and grabs your phone. “One more picture together and we’ll go.”
Being at a distance worked perfectly fine but those muscles have you frozen in place again. Soonyoung throws an arm over your shoulders and grins like you do this all the time. His biceps press through your jacket, the flex of the muscle exactly as you imagined it, not that it stops your heart from thundering.
You can’t help but steal a glance at Soonyoung. Despite feeling like you’ll malfunction at any second, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. Soonyoung’s features look soft this close, even the sharp cut of his jawline. You want to study every line of his face, each curve, memorize it until the way his lips slowly curl into a smile is carved into your heart. Spending the rest of your life here doesn’t seem too bad.
“Let’s go,” Joshua says, breaking whatever magic froze time for you. You are left with cold toes and sand in your sneakers as you march up the dune and back to Joshua’s car.
“I just cleaned it,” he groans, looking at all the sand you and Soonyoung tracked in.
You mumble an apology but when you try to offer to clean it for him, he shakes his head. “Nobody touches my baby.”
You glance at Soonyoung, who followed you into the backseat again. He rolls his eyes at Joshua, smiling in a way that you know means he isn’t serious. You smile back at him and click your seatbelt into place.
“Address?” Joshua asks, handing you his phone. You punch it in and hand the phone back. 3 hours and sixteen minutes.
Joshua whistles, seeing the arrival time of 4:53. “Remind me never to do this again.”
“The beach was your idea,” Soonyoung says. His words slur a little.
“Just go to sleep already,” Joshua says. The engine rumbles on and he pulls away from the empty boardwalk.
“‘m not even tired,” Soonyoung says, fighting a yawn. He slouches and leans against the headrest, rolling his head to look at you. “You have class in the morning?”
“Not until nine.”
“That’s good.” He doesn’t succeed in fighting the yawn this time. His blinks become longer and longer, eyes closing more than opening. It’s like watching the energizer bunny shut down.
“Soonyoung?”
He opens his eyes and you think maybe he’d wait for the rest of his life for you to say something.
“Thank you.”
“Always.” He smiles lazily. “I swore I’d do anything.”
His sworn loyalty. It should be fun, having a boy like him dedicated to fulfilling your wishes. But what would it be like if he wasn’t sworn to you? If he did these kinds of things just because he wants to?
You didn’t think you were tired but the next thing you know, Soonyoung gently shakes you awake.
“We’re here,” he says in a quiet, very un-Soonyoung voice.
You blink at him, trying to figure out why your neck hurts so much, frowning at the unfamiliar surroundings. From the rear view mirror, Joshua watches you. Right, instead of writing your essay, doing the problem sets, or any of the readings, you went to the beach. You wait for the guilt to set in but it doesn’t come. None of the anxieties from earlier in the evening (the technical part of your brain reminds you it was the night before) overwhelm you.
“Right,” you say, clearing your throat. Your mouth tastes nasty but before you can say anything, Soonyoung hands you a water bottle. You take a sip before saying thank you.
Soonyoung unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’ll walk you up.”
You nod, grateful you don’t have to ask him. The night has been a full adventure on its own yet you aren’t quite ready for it to be over. At least you aren’t ready to say goodbye to Soonyoung.
There’s still something you want to tell him. You want to tell him that you like his blonde hair, even though everyone else thinks it’s ridiculous. You want to tell him that you lied earlier, you nearly lost your mind seeing him shirtless. You want to tell him that you feel proud when he gets the right answer on the first try, that you think his concentration frown is cute, that you’ve never enjoyed studying like you do when he’s by your side. You want to tell him that on your worst days, days like today, just being Soonyoung makes it better.
But you learned a long time ago tired ramblings and drunk confessions are siblings. They both end in heartbreak and twelve packs of ramen.
So you ride the elevator with him and watch the lights flicker. You never cared when Jihoon brought his friends (well, Jun) over, but the carpets that look dirty no matter how many times they’re cleaned and beige walls are even worse tonight. You can stand to live in a boring apartment, but not a dirty one.
“This is me,” you say, gesturing to 808. You turn your back on the door, facing Soonyoung instead. He looks radiant under the fluorescent hallway lights, which really isn’t fair. They make his bleach blonde hair look natural, highlight the blemishes on his skin, easy to see when he’s this close.
You should go inside and he should go back down but neither of you move. For the second time tonight, you are frozen in time with Soonyoung.
The floor creaks and you jump, turning around at the same time, accidentally knocking into Soonyoung’s chest as you turn to face the noise behind you. Jihoon, gym bag over his shoulder, frowns at you across the hallway.
“Are you seriously just getting back now?”
Shit. You never texted him. “Um, Jihoon, this is Soonyoung,” you say. He waves behind you. “Soonyoung, Jihoon.”
Jihoon folds his arms. “I’ve heard about you.” You glare at him, which he ignores. “You’re taking the LSAT on a dare?”
“You’re the one that wants to be a music producer?”
Jihoon raises his eyebrows and looks at you. “You’ve mentioned me?”
“Only the worst,” you say, smiling at him.
“I thought you were at the library all night?” Jihoon says.
“We went on an adventure,” you say. You show him your sandy shoes. He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. It’s clear he knows he interrupted something, but the stubborn asshole doesn’t move.
You turn back to Soonyoung. “Goodnight,” you say, resisting the urge to hug him.
“It’s morning,” Jihoon says.
“Goodnight,” Soonyoung says, glancing at Jihoon. He pauses and fidgets with the hem of his shirt but finally gives you a half hug that feels more like a bro hug than anything else. He disappears into the elevator then pops his head out a final time “Send me the photos!”
You turn to Jihoon. “I forgot to text you.”
“I figured I’d wait until the morning to call,” he said. “Even if you were kidnapped there’s still a 90% chance you’d figure out a way to show up for class on time.” He turns the key in the lock and strides into the apartment. You’re too tired to argue back, especially when he’s right, so you just follow him into the apartment.
“I like him,” Jihoon says before you vanish into your room.
“Should I find you a wedding dress?” You say. “Soonyoung is single.”
Jihoon rolls his eyes and grabs a protein shake from the fridge. “Why do I even bother?”
You don’t wait for him to leave first, peeling your shoes off in the entryway where you can sweep up the sand and practically fall into your room. It’s race to change into an old t-shirt before you collapse onto your bed.
You set an alarm for 8:30 and check fifty times to make sure it’s actually set. Then you open your camera roll, shaking your head at the countless pictures. You choose twenty non-blurry ones before your eyes start to droop. You scroll to the bottom and click on the pictures Joshua took. Soonyoung grins for the camera, his easy smile as captivating on your phone as it is in person. You are staring at him, a soft smile on your lips and hearts practically bugging out of your eyes. It’s so ridiculously obvious how you feel. You send him his thirst traps and keep that picture for yourself.
It takes a week for you to realize Soonyoung never posted the pictures.
.
.
The weight of the world has the decency to wait until you’re home to fall on your shoulders. You hold your keys up and can’t push it into the lock. If you didn’t do well today, it means the past two months have been a complete waste–all the studying, the assignments you got low grades on because you were studying, the nights you spent at your desk–wasted and doomed to repeat.
All but the time you spent with Soonyoung. Even if you fail (again), he should at least score decently, and you can’t consider that a complete waste.
You raise your key to insert it into the lock but the door flies open. Jihoon glares at you, arms folded over his chest. “What the hell is taking you so long, your boyfriend is here.”
You peer past him and find Soonyoung lounging on the couch, feet resting on the coffee table. He sits up when he sees you, grinning and waving. You wonder if he’s been there since you told him you were finished. You make a mental note to get Jihoon his favorite protein shakes.
“How did you know I was here?”
“Me and your boyfriend heard you shaking your keys in front of the door for like twenty minutes,” Jihoon says.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mutter, praying Soonyoung didn’t hear either of you. You push past Jihoon, letting him lock the door behind you. Soonyoung jumps off the couch as soon as you drop your bag, almost tackling you in a hug. You pretend not to hear Jihoon’s scoff as he locks himself in his room again.
“How’d it go?” He asks, squeezing you one more time before letting go. You try not to feel disappointed about it. “I mean, I know you did amazing, but how do you feel? Was the room super hot or super cold? Did the proctor give you the evil eye when you turned in your paper because they were secretly trying to sabotage you?”
“No?” You frown. “And the room was fine, I felt pretty good about it, but I felt good last time, so I don’t really know, I just really don’t want to take it again.” You sigh. “I know you want to know as many details as possible for your test, but I really, really don’t want to think about it right now.”
Soonyoung grins and pulls out a package of White Claws and a bottle of vodka from a plastic bag that you just noticed sitting on your coffee table. “That’s perfect because I brought a gift from the whole frat.”
“That seems pretty on brand,” you say.
“And a gift from me.” He digs again and pulls out a DVD. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.
“You’re kidding.” You say. “I think I have to be drunk to watch that.”
“You don’t have faith in my taste in movies?” Soonyoung asks but he pops open the first drink and slips something shaped concerningly like a knife out of his pocket and stabs the can, chugging it before it can really spill on your carpet. Before you can register what he did, he tosses the empty can on the coffee table, immediately scrambling to straighten it. “Sorry, force of habit.”
“Soonyoung, I don’t think I can keep up with you,” you say, sitting slowly onto the couch.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m a lightweight,” he says. “I definitely should not have chugged that.”
“I guess I better catch up,” you say, unscrewing the vodka and pouring a shot in the little paper cups that Soonyoung brought. The acrid scent curls your lip but you knock it back as fast as you can, forcing it down when you miss the back of your throat and it burns your tongue. Soonyoung hands you a can, the lime flavored seltzer pushing the nasty flavor out of your mouth.
“Yeah, I’m terrible at that,” you say.
Soonyoung shrugs. “I’m not one to judge. You should have seen me as a pledge.”
You grin at the mental image of Soonyoung wearing a fake toga made of bedsheets. “I bet you were adorable.” You take another sip of the drink (which tastes significantly worse when you aren’t comparing it to straight vodka) and miss Soonyoung scrambling for words.
“I can’t drink this,” you declare, setting the can down. You cross the room to the fridge, opening it and studying the contents. Soonyoung follows you, resting his chin on the door and glancing inside.
“Jihoon does most of the cooking,” you say, feeling self-conscious. Not much populates your fridge, a package of chicken breast and a carton of eggs. A couple containers of take out that are either two days or two weeks old sit in front, and the drawer of fruit that is filled with apples from Jihoon’s mother definitely smells funny.
“I live in a frat house, this is heaven.”
You flash him a smile and grab the orange juice, shaking it as you grab a glass from the cabinet (thank god Jihoon did the dishes last night). Soonyoung follows you back to the couch and waits for you to pour a glass and add two shots of vodka. You raise the glass and he takes your rejected White Claw and clinks it.
“Cheers,” he says, sipping this one instead of chugging it. He sets it down and leans against the armrest so that he can face you. “How did you meet Jihoon, by the way? He seems like a pretty reserved dude.”
“Yeah, sorry if he was short with you, he isn’t half as mean as he pretends to be,” you say.
“We actually talked a lot.” He pauses, tilting his head as he thinks about it. “Well, a lot about working out. I think I could turn him into my gym buddy with enough pressure.”
“I would pay to see that,” you say. Jihoon tried to bring you to the gym exactly once, and you have regretted it ever since. The soreness haunts you, but you think Soonyoung might be one of the few people on the planet that could keep up with him with those arms.
“I didn’t know you were into that,” Soonyoung says with a giggle. You roll your eyes.
“You know for a fact that’s not what I meant,” you say, “and to answer your question, we lived in the same dorm freshman year. He was next door, and both our roommates were psychotic, so we ended up trading. We’ve been living together ever since because I’m the only one that can put up with his annoying ass. Also he cooks and keeps me alive during finals.”
“I can’t believe I was a dorm assignment away from living with you.” Soonyoung shakes his head and pretends to sigh. “Fate isn’t on my side.”
“Don’t you live in a frat house?”
“Semantics,” Soonyoung says. He pauses. “Semen-tics.” He starts to laugh and though the joke is far from funny, you find yourself giggling too.
“You’re drunk,” you say.
Soonyoung points at you. “I’m pretty sure you’re drunk too.”
You tilt your head from side to side, trying to think at first but the motion feels nice, toeing the line between dizzying and comfortable. Right, you were checking if you were drunk. You have your answer, but you don’t want to stop spinning just yet.
“Do you really want to be a lawyer?” Soonyoung asks. You freeze with your head on your right shoulder, frowning at him. “I mean, like, how do you know?”
“It makes good money,” you say. “Well, corporate law does. Everything going according to plan, I’ll be out of debt before I’m thirty, retiring at 65.”
“But how do you know that’s what you want?” Soonyoung asks. You wonder if he’s asking you or himself. You think about the first day you met him.
It was the first day of your sophomore year, 8 in the morning in the worst classroom in the Armhayer Building at the end of a dead end hallway with no windows. The business program had a required career building course and some cruel administrator decided to make the other available class clash with the other required business class for the year, so half the class was people you were stuck with for the full year. Despite its reputation, the business school at the university seemed to only accept idiots.
You settled for a long semester of biting back your eye rolls and yawning through class, choosing a seat in the front so that at least you won’t have to look at anyone else. And for fifteen minutes, you struggled to keep your eyes open.
Then Soonyoung walked in.
He was out of breath, telling the professor that he got lost several times and someone gave him the wrong directions. You didn’t really pay attention to him until he dropped into the seat next to you. Fully prepared to give him a side eye and judge him for the rest of the semester, Soonyoung flashed a smile at you and apologized for disrupting you. He was so obviously not your type, yet when his head dropped on your shoulder, you didn’t wake him up. Two classes later when the professor told the class that you would be in a semester-long partner project, you didn’t hesitate to say yes when Soonyoung asked you.
Soonyoung hadn’t ever taken the class seriously, going through the motions and doing the bare minimum for most of the assignments. You never paid any attention to it, but you realize that he never actually told you what he planned to do with his life, always asking you what you planned to do with your copious amounts of money. Now you wonder if it was because he really doesn’t know.
“I want stability,” you finally say. “This plan is stable. Safe, as long as everything goes according to plan. I guess it’s not as cool as dreaming about being an astronaut or whatever, but it’s what I want.”
“I think it’s cool. Knowing what you want to do.” Soonyoung says with little enthusiasm.
“You don’t have any idea?”
He shrugs. “I have to be smart to do the things I want to do.”
“You are smart.”
“You don’t have to pander to me, I’m not looking for your pity.”
“Soonyoung.” You wait for him to look you in the eyes. “You are smart. This isn’t pity. Sure it takes you a little longer to read things, and you have to work a little harder to answer some questions, but that doesn’t mean you’re not smart. You’re just as capable as me, more capable when it comes to emotional intelligence. Have you ever noticed that wherever you go, someone is always waving to you? I don’t think there’s a single person in this world that doesn’t like you. Don’t downplay how important that is.”
He chews on his lip and you know he doesn’t believe you. How many people have told him he’s dumb? You want to drag every single one of them here and make them apologize, make them realize how special the boy in front of you is. Eventually he shrugs. “I’ll just end up being an intern, and then I’ll be so charming they’ll promote me without realizing I don’t know what I’m doing and I’ll become a CEO that pays people to do the job for me.”
You smile and shake your head. “We can vacation together in the Bahamas.”
“Please, that’s where the semi-rich people go,” Soonyoung says, lifting his head from the back of the couch. “We’ll have our own islands and sail past each other.” This time when he smiles, the sparkle glints, just a little. His bleach blonde hair sticks in strange angles from rubbing against the couch, looking a little like a fuzzball. You reach a hand out and pat it down, except the hair is fried from being bleached so many times and almost breaks under your hand.
When you pull your hand down, Soonyoung is staring at you. Except staring isn’t the right word. He looks at you like no one else ever has, a thousand unsaid words behind his eyes, a language like no other that maybe only you can understand. Those dark eyes, so soft and warm, begging you to drown in them. He’s a siren, luring you in with a song of desire that only you can hear.
You don’t realize you’ve leaning closer until you fall forward, catching yourself on his chest. Soonyoung’s hand flies to your waist, moving so fast it must have been reflex.
“Sorry,” you mutter but you don’t get off him. Resisting his eyes from this close is impossible. Soonyoung blinks at you, frozen. It occurs to you that you’re almost kissing him. All you have to do is lean forward, press your lips against his. Would his lips be chapped? Would he kiss you back? Would he make fun of you for being a terrible kisser? You hold your breath, wondering if you are about to find out.
You jump at the bang of a door slamming shut. You push off Soonyoung’s chest, back to your side of the couch until your back slams against the armrest. The pain is almost enough to sober you up and you realize exactly what you were about to do. You can’t bear to look at Soonyoung staring at you so you look at Jihoon instead, who doesn’t seem to realize that he interrupted anything by walking into the kitchen, headphones blasting music so loud that you can hear it. He grabs one of the takeout containers from the fridge and finally notices you and Soonyoung staring at him.
“What?” He shouts over his headphones. You shake your head and he stares at you all the way back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him with enough force to make you jump again.
“We should probably start the movie,” you say, turning to face forward, anywhere but Soonyoung. “I’ll get my laptop.” He doesn’t say anything but you can feel Soonyoung’s eyes on you as you jump up. Ignoring the spinning in your head, you walk to your room. You lean against the door as soon as it shuts behind you, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.
You wish you could blame the idiocy on the alcohol, but you aren’t drunk enough for that. Besides, regardless of the reason, it was a mistake, it would be a mistake, to kiss Soonyoung. No matter how badly you want to do it.
Your computer sits on your desk. The longer it takes for you to get back, the stranger it will be, so you grab it and return to the couch. Dizziness gives you an excuse to peer at the floor, perfectly valid reason to avoid Soonyoung’s eyes.
“Are you ready to have your mind blown?” He asks when you insert the DVD into your laptop.
You raise your eyebrows but still don’t have the courage to face him. “It’s that good?”
Soonyoung laughs easily, as if nothing happened. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”
You peek at him from the corner of your eye. He faces the computer, sitting back against the couch. Other than his red tinted cheeks, you can’t tell he’s drunk at all. You have no idea what you’re in for, he said. He has no idea how right he is.
.
.
You hold Soonyoung by the shoulders, staring him down. Your eyes begin to water but you hold them open, determined not to lose. Soonyoung squints, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. You just have to hold out a little longer, but your eyes begin to ache and the air pierces into them.
“Damn!” Soonyoung cries, throwing himself back onto the couch and squeezing his eyes shut. You let go of his shoulders and resist the urge to rub your eyes, settling for blinking as fast as humanly possible. Your eyes burn but you smile anyways, wiping tears away with the back of your hand.
“How are you so good at that?” Soonyoung asks. He gives into the impulse, hands pressed against his eyes.
“I’m really not, I think you’re just bad at staring contests,” you say. “Now hurry up, you lost so you have to answer.”
He sighs as if he didn’t beg you to help him study. With only a day before his test, you’re not sure how much this is really helping, but at least he isn’t partying with the rest of his frat (who do a pre-finals bar crawl, apparently). Instead, Soonyoung is on your couch, again. You try not to think about the last time he was here. Not productive thoughts, especially not when Soonyoung is one day away from taking the most important test of his life.
“Is it B?”
“Are you asking or telling?”
“I hate when you say that.” He peers at the paper, eyes moving slowly as he rereads the line. “No, it’s C! Wait, no, B. No, A!”
“Pick an answer.”
He chews on his lip. You have to force yourself to keep your focus on his eyes. “B,” he finally says.
You’re tempted to drag it out and make him wait but he puts on the Soonyoung Sparkle so you go ahead and nod.
“I knew it! Trust your gut!”
“You’re quoting me now.” You pretend to wipe tears from the corner of your eyes. “You’ve grown up so quickly.”
If it were Jihoon, he’d roll his eyes but Soonyoung perks up, as if you’ve given him a real compliment. He pauses before asking his next question, eyes flickering to the papers separating you from him.
“You really think I’ll do well?” He asks softly.
You study him, the way his unnaturally blonde hair has been strategically gelled to stick up in all the right places, the way his plain white t-shirt hangs loose on his shoulders. You wonder what he sees when he looks in the mirror because the way he sits now, waiting for an answer as if you’d actually say no, breaks your heart a little. He really has no idea how brilliant he is, in every sense of the word. You don’t know how to make him see it so you just take his hand and wait for him to look you in the eyes.
The second the glittering dark irises meet yours, you see the desperation. He tries to smile, to hide the fear but Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You fight the urge to brush your fingers against his cheek.
“Soonyoung.” You squeeze his hand. What you feel isn’t a passing crush, you’ve known that for a while now. Admitting it doesn’t give you the bravery to do anything except pull the shield of cowardice around your heart a little tighter. “I’d be an idiot if I said I didn’t.”
He holds your gaze a little longer, until it almost looks like he believes you. Then his eyes light up. “I have a surprise for you!”
He digs into his backpack, pulling out a blanket (not the one he used when it was still warm enough to sit outside in the grass), a plastic water bottle half-full of bright green liquid, three crumpled flyers for events on campus, and finally, a small rectangular item, carefully wrapped in paper towels.
“I was a little worried it would get damaged in my backpack,” he says. “I really, really tried to walk gently and didn’t bring it near any coffee.”
You choose not to point out the unnatural liquid in the plastic water bottle, instead appreciating his efforts to protect whatever your surprise is. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t try. He carefully pulls the paper towels off, revealing a navy blue leather bound book with gilded lettering. Not just any book.
“You got it back?” You cry. Soonyoung pulls the rest of the paper towels off to reveal the intricate design on the cover, the golden pages, with Pride and Prejudice inscribed on the spine. “My baby!”
You hover over the book, not wanting to ruin it with the dirt and oils from your hands but so desperately wanting to caress the beautiful book. It’s just as you remember it, down to the tiny dent on the front cover where you accidentally knocked it against a railing. You can’t wait to put it back on your bookshelf where there has been an empty space ever since Jun managed to snag it. You remember Soonyoung is there when you hear his laughter.
“You like it that much?”
“Of course,” you say. “It’s my baby.”
“It’s a book.” But he smiles and you know he’s just teasing. So you figure, why not?
You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. His frat-bro instincts must take charge because he doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, pulling you against his chest and squeezing you like he’s the one getting a gift.
“Thank you,” you say. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“This is my thank you,” he says. You can feel his voice rumbling in his chest, a strange sensation that sends butterflies tumbling around between your stomach and your heart. “It’s the least I could do for you.
The awkward position isn’t exactly comfortable, twisting your body to face him with your shoulder overtop of his forcing your face into his neck but you don’t want to let go. You give yourself five more thundering heartbeats before you let go, turning to study your book again so you have an excuse to avoid his eyes.
“How did you get it back?”
“Same way you lost it,” Soonyoung says. “I made a bet.”
“On what?”
Soonyoung shrugs, turning to look at the book that still sits in his lip. He gently places it into yours, using the paper towels to prevent smudging with his fingers.
You frown. “How? Jun is in another hemisphere.”
“Don’t underestimate the power of video calls and express shipping,” Soonyoung says. “By the way, I’m wearing your friends down. Pretty soon they’ll like me more than they like you.
“Oh really?” You raise your eyebrow. You ignore the vole gnawing at your gut whispering that he might just be right.
“I got Jihoon to go to the gym with me and I got him to admit I was friends with you before he was,” he says, holding a finger out. “Jun says that he wants to meet me the second he returns to the country.” A second finger goes up. “Who else can I add to the list?”
He’s only joking. He doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but your skin wants to crawl inside out. The truth is, they are pretty much your only friends. Jihoon, Jun, and Soonyoung, the latter two having wormed their way into your life. My only friends.
“You’ve got to start going on the offensive,” Soonyoung says. He avoids your eyes and you know he didn’t miss your discomfort. Great, now he pities you. “I’m serious, Seokmin and Joshua have been asking about you, and Seungcheol keeps complaining that he hasn’t met you yet.”
You snort. “They’re frat bros, they just want more people to party with.”
“I’m a frat bro,” he says.
“Yeah, but…” But what? He’s Soonyoung? Once again, you wonder why he is so different to you–why the epitome of frat boy chaos doesn’t repulse you like he should. But he isn’t some one-dimensional steroid-infused party boy, not the type to bully the freshman trying to join just because he can. He gets drunk after two shots and makes his pledges follow him for 24 hours a day as “hazing,” only to take them for a dinner he can’t afford and skips his own classes so they don’t miss theirs.
He’s not a typical frat boy. But Soonyoung loves his frat, and you can’t find a way to tell him this without making it sound like you are looking down on the rest of the members.
So you just say, “Isn’t this supposed to be a study session?”
Soonyoung sighs, pulling the book in front of him and staring at the words. Even though you can see that he isn’t reading, he doesn’t say anything else.
“Your test is tomorrow,” you say.
“Yeah, I know.” He doesn’t pick up the pencil.
You’ve never struggled to read Soonyoung. He can’t hide when he’s upset, shoulders slumping, a little pout forming over his lips. He doesn’t fully frown but his eyebrows comes together, just a bit. And it’s usually easy to figure out what’s wrong–he’s tired, or wants to be at a party instead of studying. But now? He was fine just a moment ago, even while he was cramming earlier.
“Is something wrong?” You don’t know why you’re so scared of the answer.
“I just thought that… nNever mind.” He sighs again. “You’re right, this is a study session. I should be studying.” He doesn’t look at you and you can’t help but feel like you messed up. But Soonyoung eventually picks up his pencil and asks you to check his answers and the feeling slowly fades.
Will the rest of your feelings fade when you aren’t with him like this anymore? When he takes his test and has no reason to see you every day? Will your heart still beat at the mention of his name? Will you spend the rest of your life thinking about all the almosts with him? Or will it fade until Soonyoung is just a boy that you helped because of a silly bet?
Even as you consider it, you know the answer. He isn’t just a boy, and he never will be. Maybe that’s what really scares you.
.
.
You glare at Soonyoung. “Do you know what time it is?”
Jihoon glances at his watch. “7:43.”
Soonyoung grins beside him, arm over his shoulder. Both boys stand in your bedroom doorway looking far too composed for this ungodly hour.
“It’s a Saturday.” Just two minutes ago you were in blissful sleep. Okay, maybe not blissful, since you stayed up until three in the morning because you couldn’t fall asleep, and you were having a weird dream where you were looking for something and ended up by the stadium staring at a giant duck statue instead of the raven. But the point is you were asleep until two fists banged on your door so loud you thought it was going to fall apart.
You can’t even be that mad at Soonyoung, not when he smiles like that. So you glare at Jihoon.
“Honestly, I figured you would be up,” he says. “You were the one that said you didn’t think you were going to get any sleep.”
“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung says. “I really just wanted to help distract you for the last hour.” Right. The last hour until your entire future would be determined by a triple digit number. No biggie.
“Let me get dressed,” you say. They step back before you have the chance to slam the door in their face. You’d like to be able to dress up nicely, but you’re already shivering, so you grab your comfiest sweatpants and the sweatshirt Soonyoung lent you (that still smells like his cologne). You dart into the bathroom and meet the two boys in the doorway of the apartment, pulling on your sneakers.
You pull the hood over your messy hair and tighten the strings. Soonyoung grins at you and taps your nose.
“Ready to go?”
“How did you get out of bed this early?”
“Oh, I never got in,” he says. “Long story, but we gotta go, they won’t wait much longer.”
“They?” You ask but Soonyoung doesn’t hear you. He turns to Jihoon, waving.
“See you tomorrow!” He says, throwing an arm over your shoulders to pull you out the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes!”
Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” But he looks at you and smiles. “It’ll be fine.” Before you can thank him, he shuts the door.
Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your side, pulling you to the elevators and squeezing you against him. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I should be asleep.”
Soonyoung smiles, as if your grumpiness is funny. You decide it’s moot since there’s no way you could fall asleep now that you are an hour and seven minutes away from finding out the results of your future.
“I figured I’d save you from wallowing in worry,” Soonyoung says. “We can do fun things while we wait. I planned out the whole morning, we have options! There’s going to the gym, or for a job around campus, breaking into the science lab and petting the rabbits, going to Barb’s for breakfast–”
“Breakfast,” you say. You aren’t a huge fan of getting in trouble with the college when you have just over a semester before graduation and though you aren’t sure if your stomach will accept food, working out is a guarantee for throwing up. Besides, a hot cup of coffee could clear a little of the fog in your brain.
“Barb’s it is,” Soonyoung says, practically bouncing on his toes. He really seems to only have two settings, and today he’s at 120%.
He lets go of your side when the elevator opens and you step to the ground floor of your apartment. You rub your arms and pretend like the chill is from the weather even though the lobby is still warm. He holds the door for you pretending to be a doorman, bowing and gesturing with his arm for you to pass. You turn so that he doesn’t see that the silly gesture made you smile.
Parked outside is a white jeep that looks larger than normal, and is apparently the asshole that’s been blasting their music for the past ten minutes. You aren’t surprised in the slightest when Soonyoung strides up to the car.
“I don’t have a car,” he says, belatedly apologetic. The two men in the front seat don’t seem to mind, though you suspect they have been up all night along with Soonyoung as soon as the door opens and you hear their voices singing off-tune over the blasting music.
“Boy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away,” The driver cries, using a water bottle as a mic. You recognize Seungcheol from Soonyoung’s descriptions, half from his voice and half from the back of his head. The person riding shotgun is also familiar, a mess of dark hair that must be Joshua. He doesn’t look much different in daylight, sunglasses resting on his forehead. Thankfully they turn the music down a little and stop singing when you get it.
Seungcheol grins at you through the mirror. “So I finally get to meet the infamous YN. You know, you still haven’t shown up to any parties.”
“I’ve been busy,” you say, glancing at Soonyoung who focuses a little too much on his seatbelt.
“Hi, YN,” the passenger up front says, waving at you through the rearview mirror.
“Joshua,” you say. “Get into life and death scenarios with Soonyoung recently?”
“Well, Soonyoung jumped out of a car window.” He pauses. “It wasn’t moving,” he adds when Seungcheol jerks his head towards him. “Though I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“I have done it before,” Soonyoung says solemnly. It takes him a moment to realize everyone is staring at him. “It was a dare.”
“Why am I not surprised,” Seungcheol grumbles, turning back around and putting the car into drive. Though you were thinking something along the same lines, the way Soonyoung deflates a little makes you wish Seungcheol hadn’t said anything.
The rest of the drive is quiet–at least in terms of conversation. Seungcheol cranks his stereo up to the loudest setting and blasts the Spice Girls until Joshua starts singing along. Apparently car karaoke for “Wannabe” is sacrilegious to the frat leader.
You can hear yourself think again when the car pulls into the parking lot and he finally cuts the engine. A few cars line the parking lot of the 24 hour diner that sits on the outskirts of campus. The giant neon red Barb’s that hangs over the entrance flickers in the cloudy morning light teeters the line between quaint and electrical fire waiting to happen.
The workers, a host and three waitresses, wave at the boys, and do a double take at you. You swear you hear the host whisper “Is that really them?” to Joshua as he leads the group to a table in the corner but Soonyoung distracts you with the menu.
“I had this thing memorized since freshman year, I can’t believe you’ve never been here. The pancakes are my favorite for hangover cures, not that I’m hungover by the way, I’m actually running on my third energy drink.” He taps the picture, a golden stack of perfectly fluffy pancakes that can only be photoshop.
“Aren’t energy drinks bad for your heart?”
Soonyoung shrugs. “Joshua invented this to get through finals, you mix Red Bull, Bang, and Coke and it keeps you up for three days straight. Great for when you’re nervous because you physically have to do something about it.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say. “Wait, why are you nervous?”
“Your test results come out today,” he says too quickly.
You consider debating with him but a waitress approaches, wearing a fifties frock and a high ponytail with a ribbon that probably looked like a bow at the start of her shift but has drooped down and now just looks sad. Her face is a mask of emotions, not a smile, not a frown, just emptiness, a contrast to the button clipped to her collar making her “Happy.”
“The usual?” She asks, pausing at you. She tilts her head and you can see the mask twisting at the edges, a frown almost forming on her brow. She glances at Soonyoung. “Is this who I think it is?”
“Who do you think it is?” Soonyoung asks at the same time that Joshua and Seungcheol say, “Yes.”
The corner of Happy’s lips turn into a tiny smile that seems to be her equivalent of a grin. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Okay, haha, very funny,” Soonyoung says. “Stop harassing my friend. We’ll order when we have a chance to look at the menu.”
Happy raises her eyebrow just slightly at the word “friend,” but closes her notepad. She returns to a pastel pink bar where you can clearly see her whispering and gesturing to you.
“Why do so many people know me?” You mutter, shrinking into the corner of the booth.
“The thing about Drunk Soonyoung is that he doesn’t really shut up,” Seungcheol says.
“That’s being gentle,” Joshua says. “One time he spent four hours describing Finding Nemo. That’s longer than the actual movie.”
“It’s a good movie,” Soonyoung says.
“The point is,” Seungcheol says, glaring at Joshua, “he tends to talk when he’s drunk. Usually about good things, things that he… Well, things that he likes.”
You turn your head to look at Soonyoung, who is once again pretending to study the menu. “You like studying for the LSAT that much?”
Joshua unsuccessfully tries to hide his laugh with a snort while Seungcheol gains slightly more success with a fake cough. Soonyoung doesn’t react at all, staring at the painted flowers on the menu. Eventually, he shrugs. “I’m dedicated to the bet.” He points at a stack of pancakes covered in bananas and chocolate. “That’s what I usually get.”
“Isn’t against all rules of gym core and muscle building to eat decadent things?”
“Did you just call working out ‘gym core?’” Seungcheol asks.
“Am I wrong?”
“Nope!” Soonyoung says brightly. “And cheat days are a thing, so do you want to split it or not?”
“You know I can’t say no to bananas and chocolate.”
“And pancakes!” He waves down the waitress and points to the stack.
“Ah, the new Soonyoung,” she says. “You guys getting your actual usual?”
Joshua and Seungcheol nod and she doesn’t bother to write any of it down. Then again she already knows their orders. Except she called Soonyoung’s “new.” Before you can ask what she meant, a shout makes you jump. You turn around to see a stream of boys entering, enough of whom you recognize that you realize at least half the frat has rolled into the diner. The waitresses roll their eyes and groan but somehow they don’t look all that upset.
“Mr. President!” The tallest boy, Johnny according to Soonyoung’s Instagram tags, holds a fist over his heart and pounds it a couple times. Seungcheol nods and greets each of the boys, most of whom seem to still be in various stages of inebriation. Almost all of them glance at you and whisper to each other, and you get the feeling they know exactly who you are.
Just what has Soonyoung said about you?
“How are we doing on time?” One of them calls out.
“46 minutes,” Joshua says. You frown. 46 minutes… until 9? Do they all know about today?
You tap Soonyoung on the arm. “What’s going on?”
“You see, the thing is,” he says, “apparently I was nervous?” He tries to fake a laugh but it sounds strained. “I don’t really know but the guys made me tell them about today and then I didn’t really know what was happening but I guess they followed us here? Thought you might like moral support, or something.”
You peek out at the booths crowded with frat bros and cringe back into your seat when they grin at you. “They’re all looking at me.”
“Well, I guess I do talk about you a lot,” he says, only loud enough for you to hear. He won’t meet your eyes.
Ask him why. You want to be brave. You want to be right about the answer you think he’ll give you. You chew the inside of your cheek.
“Because of the bet?”
Soonyoung doesn’t answer for a moment. “I guess.”
Coward.
“Why are we whispering?” Joshua asks, leaning across Soonyoung towards you. “Are we gossiping?”
Soonyoung pushes him off. “Butt out.”
“Just telling Soonyoung that I’ve never had an army of drunk guys rooting for me before,” you say.
“Could have had it sooner if you came to a party,” Seungcheol says.
“You really want me at a party that bad? We just met.”
Seungcheol glances at Soonyoung, who shakes his head. He sighs. “If only I could tell you why you need to come.”
You frown between the three men. “I don’t like when people talk in circles over me.”
“Just promise you’ll come to the Christmas party. It’ll all make sense then,” Seungcheol says. You’ve heard a lot about Seungcheol from Soonyoung, and the more you listen to him, the more you believe it. He’s a strange man.
“I’ll think about making an appearance.”
“Really?” Soonyoung whips around to face you and you know that you have to come now. You haven’t seen him this excited since you let him skip studying to party. No, he’s even more excited now. “You’ll come?”
You can’t stand his gaze so you study the placemats. “Maybe.”
He grabs your hand until you meet his eyes. “Please?”
The Soonyoung Sparkle. You never win against it. “Fine.”
“Get a room,” Joshua says behind a very fake cough. You pull your hand back into your lap and pretend like you aren’t embarrassed.
“How long now?” You shout out.
“40 minutes,” someone answers. You groan and lean back into the sofa. Studying was hard enough but waiting makes you want to pull out each individual hair on your head. You stare at the ceiling, trying to decide if the stain looks more like a horse or a flower.
“Look at this.” Soonyoung passes his phone in front of you, forcing you to look down. His Instagram is open to a picture of a kitten looking drunk, face covered in milk. Such and obvious attempt to distract you but you smile anyway.
“Sweet,” you say and even you aren’t sure if you mean the cat or Soonyoung. He shows you cat pictures until the food finally arrives (33 minutes to go). You have to wait another five minutes because Soonyoung insists on having a photoshoot, despite your protests that you look like you just woke up (he raises his eyebrows at that). You stop fighting when Joshua makes him cut a piece of the pancake and feed it to you. Chocolate nearly drops in your lap but Soonyoung shoots his hand out at the last second and catches it.
“Okay, can we please just eat,” you say. Joshua and Seungcheol shrug and pretend like they weren’t instigating the pictures and telling you and Soonyoung how to pose.
Soonyoung was right about the bananas and chocolate. Rich and decadent, they’re delicious. When he cuts you a slice and pushes it toward you, you can even forget the countdown to the end of the world. Or, more accurately, the end of the world doesn’t mean anything to you when Soonyoung smiles at you like that.
You eat slowly enough to bring you to the ten minute mark. Fear mixes with the dessert for breakfast in your stomach, twisting it until it threatens to jump out of your throat. Soonyoung takes your hand under the table and holds it. You don’t run away this time.
He holds you to the planet again, keeps you from floating away and disappearing before you can reach the stars. It’s Soonyoung that keeps your heart beating. Always Soonyoung.
Seungcheol and Joshua chat, Soonyoung piping in a few times, but their words don’t reach you. Stuck somewhere between crushed beneath the weight of the world and floating away, you focus on the clock, watching the seconds tick closer and closer.
“Last minute!” Someone behind you finally shouts. Soonyoung squeezes your hand. You pull up the website on your phone and put in your login information and hover over the SUBMIT. At thirty seconds, they start shouting it out.
“Ten!”
“Nine!”
“Eight!”
“Seven!”
“Six!”
“Five!”
“Four!”
“Three!”
“Two!”
“One!”
Half the guys start cheering already, probably forgetting the count down doesn’t mean as much as the results themselves. You hit SUBMIT and watch the little wheel spin around and around and around until it finally refreshes. The number stares back at you, impossible to read right in front of you.
169.
“Congratulations!” Soonyoung shouts, throwing his arms around you and squeezing while you try to comprehend what that means. 169. The number should be all you can think about but Soonyoung holds you, shouting how proud he is, how he always believed in you.
“169!” Seungcheol shouts, miles away from your bubble. You can hear the guys break out into cheers, hear them chanting the number (which turns into 69) but it’s just you and Soonyoung. The world didn’t end and Soonyoung is still by your side.
The rest of the morning is a blur. Every member of the frat insists on congratulating you, which mostly means a lot of hugs, though one of the more drunk guys tried to spin you around on his shoulder. You laugh when you’d usually frown and find your way back to Soonyoung’s side like a magnet.
Maybe it’s the euphoria that gives you courage.
“Hey Soonyoung?”
“Hm?”
You say it before you can think too much. “Maybe just the two of us next time?”
He grins before you can finish speaking. “I’d love that.”
.
.
You have the courtesy to let Soonyoung sleep in as much as he wants. You wait for him at Barb’s, trying to figure out how to call this a date.
You’ve seen him a couple times since you got your score back, but you needed to study for finals and he had to make up for missing a lot of frat activities. You’ve only seen him in passing, nothing to fill the Soonyoung shaped hole in your heart. But today that will change. You will celebrate together and you will tell him how you feel. And then… you have no idea.
It’s just Soonyoung there’s nothing to be nervous about. Too bad your body doesn’t agree with you. Every nerve stands at attention, jumping at the bell that rings when the door opens. You don’t worry when Soonyoung doesn’t get to Barb’s by 8:30 like he said he would. Even at 8:45, you aren’t worried.
It’s only at 8:55 that you really start to wonder where he is. Maybe you should have picked him up. Knowing him, there’s a 50% chance he’s lying in a ditch after a failed attempt to recreate an impossible stunt from Fast and Furious. At 9, you call him. Between each silence in the ring, you wait for his voice but it never comes. He uses the automated voicemail, so you don’t even get his voice telling you to leave a message.
The anxiety turns to fear while you wait. The door rings and you see a fluff of bleach blonde hair and jump up. But though you recognize the face, it isn’t Soonyoung.
Chan, one of the younger members of the frat, with Mingyu and a guy whose name you forgot. They all have the same look in their eyes when they see you, far too much like pity.
“You’re YN, right?” Mingyu asks. “You’re supposed to meet Soonyoung?” The two guys with him, easily identifiable as frat members between their unkempt hair and sweatshirts plastered with Greek letters, stop mid conversation and glance at each other.
“Is he okay?” You ask, still standing in the awkward position in the booth.
“He’s got his score back,” Mingyu says.
“We were supposed to–”
“Yeah, I know,” Mingyu says. “It was a 167. You should really talk to him yourself.” He pauses, glancing at his frat brothers but they shrug. “He’s at the house. See if you can talk some sense into him.”
You’re too afraid to ask any other questions so you just watch Mingyu and the other two walk past, and pretend that they aren’t whispering and stealing glances at you.
Going to a frat house was never on your bucket list but your feet travel without guidance. You find yourself in front of a rather nondescript house. No bodies hang out from windows, no one is passed out in the yard. Then again it’s a weekday.
You pause at the door, wondering if you should knock. You tap your hand on the door and it slides open, the latch bolt pushed completely in. You step inside tentatively, peeking around but it’s quiet. You turn the corner to find an open room and Soonyoung sitting on a couch, glass with a bright liquid in his hand. He doesn’t even look at you.
“Are you seriously drunk right now?”
Soonyoung just shrugs, taking another sip from the glass. Even from here you can smell that it’s more tequila than fruit punch.
You shake your head, crossing the room sitting beside him even though he didn’t invite you to sit down. He was considerably cuter the last time you saw him drunk. You’ve gotten used to the power of Soonyoung’s facial expressions, his smiles, his frowns, the way his eyes glaze over when he’s bored, the way they gleam when he daydreams; they’re as precious to you as Soonyoung himself. But his face is a clean slate now, not a smile, not a frown, just a blank stare.
“You know a 167 is still insanely good, right?”
He shakes his head.
“Soonyoung.” He doesn’t look at you, so you grab his drink. Any other day and you would have failed miserably but his alcohol-impaired senses make him slow enough for you to get a hand on the half-empty glass. He glares at you but you don’t yield, tightening your grip and pulling the bottle even harder.
“Let go,” you growl. “Talk to me like a normal human.”
He shakes his head, pulling on the glass so you yank back, except you overestimate how weak he is like this, and the glass flies out of his hand, the contents spilling all over you. The red liquid sinks into your blue sweater, soaking you through all three layers.
“What the hell?” Soonyoung says.
“That gets your fucking attention? Spilling your drink?” You say. “You know, I really thought you were different.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re acting like a child. So you didn’t win the bet. Who fucking cares? Do you know how hard it is to get higher than a 160? Soonyoung, you are smart, and you worked so hard for this. You could go to law school with that score. You could graduate above a 2.3 if you stopped acting like a stereotypical fuck bro and actually studied.
“You know, you could actually be something if you wanted. You don’t have to get a degree and work at a corporate job that sucks your soul away until the Soonyoung that actually matters is gone. I know it’s easier this way, but if you actually tried to dream, you could do something. I don’t get it, honestly. Because everyone thinks you’re an idiot you act like one? Is that what it is?”
“You don’t have to pretend like you don’t think the same thing.”
You snort. “I don’t, but clearly you won’t believe me. You think that if you have to work for something then it’s not worth it when you could be so much more.”
“Why do you even care?” Soonyoung asks, looking you in the eyes for the first time. For a moment, you think you might actually be wrong, because all you see in his eyes is pain. A physical force that constricts your heart and makes you weak in the knees, Soonyoung looks at you like he’s been fighting a war you never knew about, like he’s been suffering in silence for a lifetime. He looks at you like you’ve broken his heart.
Why do I care? You could scoff. Because I’ve been in love with you ever since you fell asleep on my shoulder. I’ve been fighting this stupid crush for so long that I don’t know who I am without it. I don’t know who I am without you. I care because every day the world proves that we aren’t worthy of this planet, that love can’t solve all problems yet you make me question it all. You don’t just bring light into my life, you make it glitter. And I can’t tell you any of this.
“I don’t know.” The lie tastes bitter but it’s still sweeter than rejection.
“Then why are you here?” Soonyoung looks away. Without his eyes pinning you down, you can breathe again, but every inhale still drags against your heart. You stand up. Afterall, you don’t have an answer for him.
“I take it back. You are an idiot,” you mutter over his head as you walk past him. You make it to the corner of the street before the tears finally spill over your cheeks, and all the way back to your room before you can’t breathe.
.
.
Without the distraction of finals, you are left with your own thoughts, your words and Soonyoung’s floating around your head. You have always been something of a hermit but you’ve become J.D. Salinger himself, only leaving your room to sneak into the kitchen and scrounge for scraps of junk food that Jihoon hasn’t thrown away yet. You watch so much reality TV that you start to dream about it.
Every episode the people, a family living on a homestead that just happens to dress in brand name clothes and drive a Benz, fight and cry and make up. You yell at the mother when she forces her daughter to change because she didn’t think polka dots are appropriate and cry along with the daughter when she starts to sniffle in her confessional, wondering if her mother would ever approve of her choices, whether it was clothes or the people she wants to date.
You bet your confessional would be a hit if it was ever filmed. Tears run down your cheeks as you practice it in the mirror, choking out an apology for calling him an idiot and telling the whole world what you aren’t brave enough to tell him.
Jun calls but you can’t answer. He leaves three voicemails: an apology, a goofy one telling you he’ll be back soon, and a final one, yelling at you to pick up or at least let him know you’re alive. You text him an apology you don’t know if you mean. He says thank you anyway and doesn’t call again.
You have no plans to change your schedule (wake up, steal food, cry, sleep) but on the third day you run out of goldfish and can’t find anything in the kitchen that doesn’t make you nauseous. To make matters worse, despite the fact that it’s seven in the morning (the earliest you’ve woken up since the Fight), Jihoon catches you.
You’ve successfully avoided him and his inevitable lecture, slamming your door shut and ignoring his knocks but he catches you off guard today. He sneaks in from his morning workout wearing a black t-shirt and slides that he somehow manages to walk stealthily in, scaring you when you close the fridge and find him standing where the door was.
“Are you done hiding?”
“I’m not hiding,” you mutter.
He folds his arms.
“Fine,” you say. “I’m not done hiding.”
“Well too fucking bad,” Jihoon says. You try to step past him but he holds his arm out. You’ll never beat him in a physical fight so you step back, shaking your head.
“Have it your way. Go ahead.” You wave your hand. “Get it all out. Yell at me or lecture me or whatever, I don’t care. You’re going to tell me that I’m an idiot? That I shouldn’t be so afraid of rejection, that I’m blind to how he feels?
“Or are you going to tell me that I shouldn’t trust someone like him? That I shouldn’t be crying over a goddamn frat boy, I’m better than this, I’m better than him.” You choke back a sob, not sure what words are coming out anymore. You wipe at the tears in your eyes and are so focused on trying not to cry that you don’t notice Jihoon walking away. You do see him come back, blurry shape coming into focus as you blink away the tears. He holds something in his hand, a navy blue square. A throw pillow from the couch?
He shifts it in his hand until he holds the corner with the zipper, swinging it a couple times back and forth. Then he yanks his arm back and arcs the pillow in a wide loop, landing directly on your head.
“Ow!” You cry but Jihoon just swings again, hitting your arm this time. He hits you so hard it knocks you off balance, sending you to the floor. Jihoon doesn’t hesitate, swinging the pillow into you again and again, every inch of you.
“You. Are. An. Idiot.” He grunts out each word with a blow. “You really think you’re better than him?”
He finally pauses, not even breathing heavily. You shake your head to answer him. “Of course not.”
“Good,” he says. Then he hits you again and again and again.
“Ow, Jihoon, what the hell?” You bury your head in your knees and hold your arms over you, trying in vain to protect yourself.
“I’m not your babysitter,” he says. “I’m not your father, or your brother, or any of that shit. I’m your best friend and you’re being an idiot and I’m not going to stop hitting you until you get some sense knocked into you.” He freezes, as if realizing exactly what he said. “Wait, no–that’s not what I mean, shit, sorry, but–”
You peek out from your arms and find Jihoon opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out what to say. He looks like a fish out of water, and it occurs to you he is a fish out of water. He’s never had to comfort you before, probably never had to comfort anyone. No wonder he’s so bad at it.
You wouldn’t laugh at him and borderline abuse, but your emotions are beyond fried, and he just looks so funny standing over you with a pillow raised, still sputtering half apologies. You try to stop the laugh before it comes out but it turns into a snort and then you can’t stop laughing, tears that you tried to push back falling freely. You lay back on the floor and laugh until your sides hurt, only vaguely aware of Jihoon laughing above you. Eventually he joins you on the floor.
“You know what I meant,” he says. The pillow rests on the floor between his legs, all the fluff on the far end from the one-sided pillow fight.
“I knew what you meant without the pillow.”
“Too bad,” Jihoon says. “I’m tired of listening to the theme song of that god awful show. You could at least watch something like–”
“I swear if you bring up an anime, you’ll feel exactly how hard that pillow can hit.”
Jihoon laughs, patting it a couple times. “I saw him the other day. He looked tired.” He pauses but you don’t dare speak. “We didn’t speak. I don’t even think he saw me. But it doesn’t matter because I’m not the one he needs to talk to.”
“I know,” you say.
“Then why are you still on the floor?”
Because you’re scared. Because it would be easier to just give up now, for once to ignore putting in the hard work and just let it pass. But just because it’s the easy option doesn’t mean it’s the right option. At the very least you need to apologize to him.
“What if he hates me?”
Jihoon snorts. “Then he’ll get some pillow violence too.” He pauses. “He doesn’t, though.”
“It doesn’t mean that it will turn out okay.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Jihoon says. “But no matter what happens, you’ll deal with it. And even if it absolutely sucks in the moment, eventually it will be over, and it sure as hell will be better than that stupid fucking show.”
You nod, setting your chin on your knees. Your stomach turns in anticipation for what you will have to do, but he’s right. It’s time to stop running. Tonight is the Christmas party, and you were never formally uninvited. Somehow you doubt Seungcheol will throw you out. It’s time to get off the floor and get ready.
“Have you ever thought of being a life coach?”
“Hell no.”
.
.
What am I doing here? You fake a smile at Seungcheol and swallow the shot as fast as you can, grimacing as the vodka burns everything from the inside of your mouth to the depths of your stomach. You should have just stuck to your mixed drink only policy but Soonyoung always has you breaking your rules. Even when he isn’t with you.
Seungcheol disappears as soon as you take the drink, and you don't see anyone else you are comfortable enough to chat with, though that list is quite short. You do a turn of the house, which looks marginally better than the last time you saw it ,the benefit of bad lighting. It’s already crowded with more people than you’ve ever seen on campus. You make your way through each room on the lower floor, finding more than a couple bleach blondes. None are who you’re looking for. You stop in the living room, where you saw him last.
“He isn’t here.” You turn at the voice. An unfamiliar boy stands next to you, holding a half-empty Smirnoff Ice. “He went to visit family or something.” He pauses, looking you up and down. “At least that’s what he said.”
You nod. You find it doesn’t surprise you that he seems to know who you are. You suppose you’ve grown used to it, just one of the side-effects of being close with Soonyoung. Though it’s still strange, it doesn’t make you uncomfortable anymore. Or it wouldn’t, if you didn’t think this stranger is implying that it’s your fault Soonyoung isn’t at the ‘Party of the Year.’
You can’t stand his gaze so you make your way back towards the drinks, grabbing the first bottle you could find and chugging half of the lukewarm drink. It tastes like a fruit you can’t recognize and carbonation and the more you drink the harder it is to swallow but you force it down.
You came to apologize. He isn’t here, so why do you stay? Because you promised him? Do you really miss him that much? That you would come here and suffer through all this chaos, just for the memory of him? It doesn’t make any sense but you think that might be a side effect of the alcohol. You get another drink just in case you’re still sober.
.
.
Your head pounds, the aching feeling of the stage between drunk and sober. Normally you’d like to be sound asleep by now, or at least in the comfort of your home, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. It’s hot and sweaty, the music is way too loud, and you can’t find water anywhere, but you stay anyway, because you’re an idiot that fell in love.
You curl up on the couch, opposite of a couple making out as if the room isn’t full of people, waiting for just a glimpse of him that will never appear. Even drunk, you think it’s pitiful, but you can’t stop.
You didn’t think you could fall asleep in all the noise but you open your eyes when you feel the world tilt sideways. You’re vaguely aware of the arms underneath your legs and back, cradling you against someone’s chest. No, not just someone.
Because you aren’t enough of an idiot, you can tell it’s him, his sweet scent, maybe even just his arms. Soonyoung carries you out of the living room and up the stairs, the blaring music fading only slightly.
“I thought you weren’t here,” you mumble.
Soonyoung frowns down at you. “You okay?”
You shake your head, suddenly realizing there are tears in your eyes. No, I’m not okay, I love you, you want to say. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to hug you while still carrying you.
With your head resting against his chest, you can fully appreciate his beauty. His hair is black, which suits him even though he looks nothing like your Soonyoung anymore. You reach up and trace the lines of his face that are unchanging, the sharp straight line of his jaw, the gentle curve of his nose, his soft eyebrows. You drop your hand when you realize he’s staring at you, belatedly realizing you never got to his lips. You can only imagine how soft they’d be, soft like Soonyoung himself.
“You’re crying,” Soonyoung says softly. You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or not. He pauses in front of a door, struggling to open it without dropping you. Finally the door swings open and he sets you down on a bed, taking a deep breath and sitting beside you.
He brushes the tears from your eyes, as Soonyoung as ever. Sweet as ever. Sweet and Soonyoung. They should be the same word. You make a mental note to email Merriam-Webster’s dictionary and make the suggestion.
Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, just watching you with those perfect eyes. His hand rests on your face even though the tears are long gone, thumb tracing shapes on your cheek.
“You swore you’d do anything for me,” you say.
“Anything,” Soonyoung repeats.
You turn to the walls, knocking his hand off your cheek, not daring to look him in the eyes. Even drunk, you are a coward. He’s put up pictures on his wall, a couple Polaroids but mostly printed pictures, with the frat, some childhood pictures, and one that you recognize. The picture of the two of you at the beach that you thought you didn’t send, where you are looking at him with all the love in your heart. You trace his smile, blinding even in paper form.
“Could you maybe try loving me back then?” You mumble. Your eyes feel heavy between the alcohol and the tears and you’ve said what you needed to say, so you let them take over, closing your eyes and letting the blasting music from downstairs drown out any thoughts. And because it’s so loud and you’ve already drifted off to sleep, there’s no way you could hear his answer.
“I already do.”
.
.
The first thing you do when you wake up is throw up. You make it out of the bed but not to the bathroom, mostly because you don’t actually know where it is. You grab the nearest bucket-shaped item, which happens to be a mostly empty trash can. You lean away as soon as you’re done, breathing through your mouth and looking away from the mess. Belatedly, you realize someone is patting your back, brushing hair out of your face.
“Better?” Soonyoung asks. His knees rests against your lower back, one hand resting on your back, the other caressing your face. Thank god you already threw up because looking at him makes your stomach twist again and if there was anything in you, it would come up again. If you could throw up your heart, you would. As it is, the organ is trying to climb its way up your throat, whether it’s guilt or heartbreak you don’t know.
You nod in answer to his question, letting him help you up. Your head pounds and though you know you won’t throw up again, your stomach flips. Right, your policy of mixed drinks is definitely reinstated after this.
“Sorry I threw up in your trash can,” you say.
“Believe me, that is not the worst that trash can has seen,” Soonyoung says. “Wait, that sounds bad, I didn’t mean it in a weird way, I just mean–” He stops himself, shaking his head. “It’s a frat house.”
“It’s your room,” you say softly. With sober (albeit heavily hungover) eyes, you take in the room again. It’s tiny, one bed pushed against a wall with a desk set right next to it. Unsurprisingly, it’s stacked with protein powder and a pile of frat flyers, laptop balancing off the edge, not a paper in sight. Except for the one next to his bed, the walls are bare, an ugly shade of beige except for a circle filled with white plaster that looks suspiciously like the reformed crime scene of a fist going through drywall. It must be from whoever owned the room before Soonyoung.
The wall next to his bed is covered in pictures. You remember being amazed by them last night. Your eyes zero in on the picture of the two of you, right next to the pillow that’s still dented from your head.
“Did I steal your bed?” You frown except the movement hurts your head.
“I slept in Johnny’s room since he’s decided to disappear off the face of the planet instead of accepting the fact that he graduates next semester,” Soonyoung says. “I actually just came in here for some clothes, which reminds me.” He rummages through a drawer, pulling out a wrinkled t-shirt and handing it to you. “If you want a change.”
You glance down and feel like throwing up all over again. Your favorite shirt is covered in stains, alcohol, vomit, and something you definitely don’t want to name. If you weren’t feeling so terrible already, you’d cry that Soonyoung is seeing you like this.
“I’ll get you a toothbrush, too,” he mutters, disappearing and leaving you to scramble to switch shirts. The white dri-fit is meant to be a workout shirt, though it’s clear that it would be oversize on Soonyoung. Either way, the soft fabric is gentle on your skin, much better than the jeans you slept in. Too bad you’re stuck in them until you get back to your apartment.
You could run away right now. Soonyoung probably wouldn’t be surprised. But he’s being nice to you, so much nicer than you deserve. Sweet and Soonyoung. But you came here to apologize, and though last night got derailed, you can’t keep running from it. Besides, it’s not like the morning can get much worse.
So when Soonyoung comes back proudly brandishing an unopened toothbrush that he may or may not have stolen from Seungcheol’s bathroom, you accept it gratefully. You stare yourself down in the bathroom, fighting nausea and an impending migraine because you have a mission to achieve, a real mission unlike last night. It’s still a haze, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget how gently Soonyoung cradled you against his chest, the brush of his fingers on your cheek. If he didn’t show up this morning, you’d think it was a dream.
Soonyoung’s door is open when you finish but he isn’t in his room. You grab your bag from the floor and venture down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing. There’s a couple people passed out in the living room, and one person snoring softly in the kitchen, head folded in his arms in a position that must be incredibly painful for his neck. But it’s where you find Soonyoung, digging through the fridge and finally pulling out a water bottle. He hands it to you, along with a bottle of pills.
“Thank you,” you sigh, not even bothering to check the label for the brand. You take a couple and chug half the bottle, gaslighting yourself into believing that it will instantly revive you (it doesn’t work and your head still pounds).
“Are you hungry?” Soonyoung asks. He opens the fridge again, this time wide enough to show the shelves that are filled with beer, vodka, and White Claws. There’s a pizza box and some eggs, but not much else.
“How are any of you alive?” You ask softly, glancing at the snoring person on the counter.
“Yuta can sleep through an apocalypse, don’t worry about him,” Soonyoung says, waving his hand. He closes the fridge, leaning against it. “And most of us keep our actual food in mini-fridges. I just cleared mine out for break, so I don’t have anything in it.” He doesn’t say anything else about vanishing.
“I’m pretty sure that pizza has been in there since the start of the semester and I’ve never seen eggs in here before though, so I don’t think you should risk any of this,” Soonyoung says. “McDonald’s fries are a far superior hangover cure, they’ve never failed me.”
“There’s a McDonald’s nearby?”
Soonyoung grins, pulling keys out of his pocket and spinning them around his fingers a couple times, except they fly off and clatter on the floor. The man asleep on the counter, Yuta apparently, stirs but doesn’t move. You can’t help but smile as Soonyoung scrambles to retrieve them from the floor. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was flustered.
“There isn’t one,” Soonyoung explains, leading the way to the door. “But I have the keys to Seungcheol’s car.”
“I’m not really comfortable with grand theft auto,” you say, though you don’t stop following him to Seungcheol’s giant white Jeep.
“He gave me the keys last night when I walked in,” Soonyoung says. “Something about owing me. He was pretty drunk.” He darts around to the passenger side before you can, opening the door for you. He waves his hand when you frown at him, as if you’re the one acting strange. Thinking with this headache is too hard so you just get into the car and strap the seatbelt on.
“I can’t believe you thought I’d steal a car,” Soonyoung says. He turns the engine on and scans the front of the car before finally settling his right hand on the gear shift.
“You have driven this car before, right?”
“Of course,” Soonyoung says a little too fast. You grab onto the door handle and hope that your stomach really is empty.
Soonyoung’s driving isn’t the worst you’ve ever experienced; that title goes to Jihoon, who was banned from touching car keys after his Mario Kart driving. That said, you think he’s a good second place. He slams on the gas and the brakes too hard and drives altogether too fast. He blasts the radio and sings along purposefully off key. You should be terrified but it’s the most fun you’ve ever had riding in the passenger seat.
“I’m never riding with you again,” you say, breathless from laughing. He pulls to a stop at the red light, the Golden arches of your destination still one light away. “You know yellow lights mean slow down right?”
“I stopped at this one!” Soonyoung says. “I’ll have you know I haven’t been in an accident.” He pauses. “Since I was nineteen.”
You nod, pursing your lips to stop yourself from smiling fully. “That’s what I figured.” You peek at Soonyoung and he’s smiling too.
So different from the last time you saw him. You don’t deserve this. You shouldn’t be able to laugh and joke around with him so easily, not when you still haven’t apologized. And Soonyoung shouldn’t be looking at you like that, genuine fondness in his eyes.
“The light’s green,” you say. His smile fades a little when he turns his head and drives ahead, stepping lightly for once. You’re so close now, but a car going straight in the right lane prevents him from turning.
The pain medicine must have kicked in because your headache is slowly fading, replaced by heartache that no medication can cure.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” You blurt out.
The blinker beeps a steady rhythm in the empty silence. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Nothing’s ever obvious with you, Soonyoung,” you say softly.
“Oh.” The light turns green and he guides the car slowly into the parking lot, stopping in a spot instead of pulling up to the drive through. As soon as the car is in park, he turns to face you. There’s a crease in his forehead that you recognize from the rare occasions that he would actually talk to you seriously. “YN, I genuinely thought I was being clear about this from the beginning, but if you still really don’t get it, then I’ll say it straight up: I like you. I’ve liked you since the day we met and then I fell in love with you.
“Did you know you’re the first person that’s ever genuinely believed in me? I mean, I know I have friends, and my family means well, but they always get this look in their eye whenever I talk about trying for things, like it was cute that I was trying, but they never actually believed in me. And I started to believe them too. I started to believe that I couldn’t believe in myself.” He frowns. “That makes no sense. The point is, you are the reason I started to believe in myself again.
“No one’s ever looked at me like you do. No one’s ever told me to get my shit together–well, they have, but you’re the only one that told me it was because I could be better.
“You say it wasn’t obvious, but I’ve tried to tell you a thousand times. I flirted, I tried to ask you on a date so many times, and I finally accepted that you’d never see me like that, so I was a dick. I told you off, even though you were right. I’m so sorry for that, and I’m sorry I ran away, and I’m sorry it took me so long to apologize.”
“Stop,” you say. Soonyoung’s eyes widen, tears welling up, and you realize he thinks you’re rejecting him. “Stop apologizing!” His brow creases in confusion, an adorable frown. Summoning all your courage, you reach out, resting your hand on his. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I didn’t have any right to judge you and the choices you were making, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you when I knew how much the bet meant to you.”
You squeeze his hand, closing your eyes. “And I think I was a little oblivious on purpose. I’m not the kind of person that has crushes, let alone crushes that like me back, so I freaked a little and missed all the signs.” You open your eyes and grin at him. It’s easy to feel brave when he smiles back at you. “But I like you, Soonyoung. I like you so much, I don’t have enough words to express it. My whole life has been about my future, my career, and it’s exhausting, but being with you makes it all exciting again. Like, no matter what happens, if you’re with me, it won’t just be okay, it’ll be fun.”
Soonyoung beams. “Really?”
You squeeze his hand. “I like you.” Like the first time you took the LSAT, you can’t think of a single word, except instead of damning your future this feels like the start of it. Soonyoung sits across from you and you don’t need words.
You don’t know how long you sit there, but reality sets in when your stomach growls. You glance outside the window and remember where you are. “Did you just confess to me in a McDonald’s parking lot?”
“Better than drunk in my own bed.”
“I didn’t!” You let go of his hand to hide your face.
Soonyoung grins. “You were cute!”
“I don’t remember it, it doesn't count!”
“Whatever you say,” Soonyoung says, leaning over the center console. He gently pulls your hands away from your face, hand circling your wrist gently. You instinctively hold your breath, though you don’t lean away. Soonyoung leans a little closer, forehead resting against yours.
“This okay?” He whispers, breath kissing your lips, and you remember that less than an hour ago, you were throwing up. Your head still aches and your stomach is still queasy and your whole body feels disgusting.
“We are not having our first kiss in a McDonald’s parking lot,” you say, leaning back. Soonyoung sighs, but he sits back in his chair, settling for grabbing your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours.
“Fine,” Soonyoung says. He rubs his thumb back and forth, and when you meet his eyes, you see a familiar glint of trouble. “You know I’m still sworn to you. Whatever you want.”
The words go straight to your heart. You could live a thousand lives and never meet someone as genuine as Soonyoung. You know that he means it, heart and soul, that he’d do anything for you. And it should be terrifying that he’s willing to bear his heart for you, that you are willing to do the same. But it’s Soonyoung. It’s easy to trust him with it, because even though he breaks half the computers he touches and can’t hold onto a pencil for his life, he won’t ever drop your heart.
I love you. One day you’ll be able to say it, one day you’ll scream it like you so desperately want to. But until then, you settle for his certified brilliant smile and the gentle brush of his lips on the back of your hand, only letting go to turn the engine back on.
“Let’s get you some fries,” he says. “Then kisses?”
You shake your head and laugh, slipping your hand back into his.
Before he can put the car into gear, his phone rings. He stares at the screen for a moment, frowning like he can’t decide whether he should answer it or not. Finally he slides the green across, turning on speaker.
“Hey Seungcheol, I’m with—”
“Where the hell are you? And where is my car?” Seungcheol’s voice is somewhere between angry and concerned. “You think it’s okay to vanish and then show up only to steal my car?”
“First of all, you gave me the keys,” Soonyoung says. He glances at you. “And I’m at McDonald’s because YN desperately needed a hangover cure.”
“Hey,” you say so Seungcheol knows you’re there.
The line is quiet for so long you think Soonyoung’s phone has finally given up on him but eventually he says, “You’re with YN?”
“We talked,” he says. “And we’re good.”
You snort. “That’s how you’re going to describe it?”
“Are we not good?”
You glance at your hand still intertwined with his, the Soonyoung Sparkle glittering back at you when you look him in the eyes. Good? There’s not a word to describe how you feel right now.
“We are beyond good.”
.
.
“Are you crying?” You whisper. Soonyoung shakes his head, chin brushing against your head but when he inhales again, he sniffles. You reach up to pat his cheek and are entirely unsurprised when it’s wet. On screen Elle Woods continues her speech, for once not wearing pink.
“She’s just so cool,” Soonyoung says. You lift your head off his chest so you can look him in the eyes. The temptation to tease him is hard to resist but he pouts his lips and you see another tear slip out. You kiss his cheek, out of habit more than anything. Strange how much can change in two weeks, how something you’ve never imagined doing has become natural. But being with Soonyoung is just like that. New and old at the same time, the kind of comfort that has you planning how to make this last a lifetime.
Soonyoung wraps his arms around you tighter, so you nestle back into his chest, turning away from the end of the movie to close your eyes and breathe in his cologne.
“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this,” you whisper, lips brushing against his neck. “The whole bet was based on a movie you haven’t seen.”
“You’re missing the end,” he says. His voice rumbles in your ear, drowning out his heartbeat.
“I’ve seen it before.” Your bed really isn’t built for two people to lay down together. You are laying more on Soonyoung than the mattress but it’s not the first time. From the way he holds you, you doubt it’ll be the last.
The credits roll too quickly, but Soonyoung still doesn’t let go. He pulls you up so that your head is next to his, nose centimeters away from yours.
“So am I officially qualified to go to law school?” He asks.
“You are Elle Woods certified,” you say. “But you’re sure that’s what you want?”
“I mean I have to get in. But I figure if I’m going to waste away at a desk, I might as well do it for something I believe in.” He pauses. “With someone that believes in me.” He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, breath tickling the sensitive skin. You can’t help but sigh.
“That doesn’t mean it’s what you want,” you say, after several heartbeats of struggling to think.
“I want…” His words “To be with you. However you’ll have me.” His arms loosen, hands sliding down to your waist.
“Still not answering the question,” you breathe out but you can’t even remember what the question is, not when he’s shifting to lay on top of you, lips inching their way up your neck. He kisses your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your lips, then stops, pulling away and meeting your eyes again.
The Soonyoung Sparkle. The grinch has nothing on you–your heart swells so large it feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest–Alien style. Does he know what he does to you? How he’s made everything in your life shine? How happy you are when he’s with you?
“I love you,” you whisper.
Soonyoung blinks at you. “You…”
“I love you,” you say again, this time with more confidence. “I really, really love you.”
Soonyoung grins, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, moving like the world outside has stopped. He makes a bubble around you again, or maybe it’s your own heart; either way the only thing that exists is the way his hands inch up your shirt, the way his lips begin to press harder against yours. You give up on coherent thoughts, settling for wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
“I love you, too,” Soonyoung whispers between kisses. “If that wasn’t obvious.”
Soonyoung who always treated you like you were enough already. Soonyoung who does everything with 100% of his heart. Soonyoung who has always been sincere with you, from the first day you met him. Soonyoung, who you are so lucky to be loved by.
You don’t know how to say any of this in a way that makes sense so you let his fire melt you until you are putty in his arms. He pulls away, and the Soonyoung Sparkle burns, your personal stars flickering back at you.
“You want to–” Soonyoung starts to say, but the door slams open. Then Soonyoung falls on you, pillow rolling off his head.
“I’m taking this back!” Someone shouts while you hear Jihoon cursing.
“Read the room, idiot!” Soonyoung pushes off of you, sitting up and pulling your shirt down as smoothly as he can. You sit up, trying to decide if you should be embarrassed or angry. Facing Jun, frozen midstep with his jaw hanging open a little and Jihoon in the doorway with his arms folded, shaking his head slightly, you opt for the latter.
“Does no one knock in Colombia?” You frown at him. “And when did you get back? Why didn’t you call?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he mumbles, staring at his feet. “And you were supposed to be alone, according to my sources.” He glares at Jihoon.
“YN didn’t say he was coming over,” he says with a shrug.
You turn your frown to him. “You walked in halfway through the movie, I literally shouted ‘Soonyoung’s over.’”
“I had my headphones on,” he says, though he’s avoiding your eyes too. Typical of your friends, never claiming responsibility for their actions.
“So this is Soonyoung,” Jun says, turning to face him. Soonyoung moved to the edge of the bed, too far away for your taste but probably an appropriate distance for your friends, especially compared to what they walked in on. Jun tilts his head. “You dyed your hair.”
“Yeah,” Soonyoung scratches the back of his head. “Spur of the moment thing.” You miss the blonde, surprisingly fitting considering it isn’t his natural color. But the black suits him too, and probably will help him with law school interviews. Then again, knowing Soonyoung, this color won’t last long either. Good thing there isn’t a color you don’t think suits him.
“We should do this properly,” Soonyoung says. “Go out for dinner or something.”
“Hey, I didn’t get dinner,” Jihoon says.
“You want to get dinner with me?” Soonyoung perks up.
“No, I’m protesting unfair treatment.”
“It’s not unfair, I’m just clearly his favorite,” Jun says.
“Can you guys stop fighting over my boyfriend?” You say.
Jihoon and Jun stare at you. When Soonyoung turns to face you, he grins, eyes sparkling.
“What?”
“You just called him your boyfriend,” Jun says.
“Well… he is.” You feel your cheeks flush. “Why are you guys making it weird?”
“It’s not weird,” Soonyoung says. He scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s cute,” he whispers in your ear. “Adorable.” This only makes you flush even more.
“Well, I don’t want to interrupt, so I’ll just grab this and you two can get back to… whatever.” Jun takes a step towards your bookcase. You grab the pillow that he threw at Soonyoung and nail him in the chest, earning a laugh from Jihoon.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“The book is mine, Soonyoung never fulfilled the bet!” Jun says. You stand up, blocking him from your Pride and Prejudice.
“Hey, I followed through!” Soonyoung says. “We’re dating!”
“I remember the bet stating that you had to ask YN out after you took the LSAT.” Jun turns to him.
“And I did,” Soonyoung says. “You never said it had to be right after.”
Jun eyes him. “That’s cheating.”
“That’s being a lawyer,” you say. “And I think he’s going to be really good at it.”
Jun glances between you and Soonyoung and shakes his head. “Whatever, I’ll get my book back another day.”
You step closer to Soonyoung and he links his pinky with yours. You glance at your friends. “Are you going to stand there forever or are we getting dinner?”
“You two don’t want to get back to what you were doing?” Jihoon asks.
You slip your hand into Soonyoung’s. He meets your eyes and he’s only been your boyfriend for two weeks but looking at him is like looking home. There’s no need to rush.
“Sounds like someone doesn’t want to pick where we go.”
“We should make them pay, too,” Soonyoung says.
You grin at him. “You are the smartest person I know.”
#🌟 stars galaxy#seventeen#seventeen x reader#svt#svt reader#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen fluff#kwon soonyoung#hoshi#svt hoshi#soonyoung x reader#hoshi x reader#hoshi fluff#soonyoung fluff#hoshi angst#soonyoung angst#soonyoung#svt x reader
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mundane things
author's note. guys i miss him and love him sm i’m actually crying
warnings. alcohol consumption, suggestive, allusions to s*x 🙀🙀🙀🙀
word count. 621
“so… what is your favourite thing to do with your boyfriend?”
all of your friends look at you since you’re one of the girls with boyfriends. putting your wine glass down you hum in thought. they all start giggling and you realise why. blush creeps at your cheeks as you frantically shake your head.
“it’s not–“ you choke out, your words dying in laughter. the friend sitting next to you, rina, nudges your arm.
“i mean if seungcheol was my boyfriend i’d say it too” she chuckled.
“but i didn’t even say it!” you huff in defence, crossing your arms “yeah, okay. all things happening in the bedroom are nice, i agree but… i like the mundane things, you know?”
they look at you like you lost your mind.
“no but sara, what about you?” you ask, another girlfriend in the room. she smiles and nods her head.
“i guess you’re right. i like midnight walks with binnie” she says, a feeling of relief washing over you. you wink at her and continue the conversation about why your single friends don’t understand your boyfriends.
opening the door to your shared apartment, the smell of ramyeon fills your nostrils. you took off your shoes leaning against the wall, failing to notice seungcheol arriving in the hallway.
“you’re back early”
you look up and send him a soft smile. he noticed your cheeks are dusted with pink, probably due to the alcohol.
“yeah, i missed you” you giggled. it was true “it was nice meeting with them but towards the end the conversation got weird, rina got drunk and almost texted her ex… yeah”
shaking your head you walked up to seungcheol and rested your hands on his shoulders, biting your bottom lip in thought.
“i wasn’t sure if you ate or not but there’s some ramyeon left” he hummed, dimples appearing on his cheeks. you looked up and shook your head gently, looking into his eyes
“i’m fine. we had some dinner and then a glass of wine. but i’m a bit tired though” you said frankly, leaning in to press a kiss on his cheek. his smile widened, arms sneaking to wrap around your waist.
“i’ll just wash the dishes and join you…” he started and before he could add that you should go wash off your makeup in the meantime, you were already walking towards the kitchen.
knowing there’s no point in convincing you, seungcheol joined you. while he started washing the dishes that were already in the sink, you brought some bowls and cups that were left on the dining table. then you scooted over closer to him and put on the gloves, helping him out.
arms touching, you could hear his soft breathing. when a bit of water splashed his t-shirt because the mug in your hand slipped a bit, he let out a dramatic gasp.
“‘m sorry” you giggled, making puppy eyes at him. cheol shook his head, rolling his eyes. knowing that meant he wants a different apology, you stood on your toes and smooched the corner of his mouth.
“it’s the second time you’re missing a spot today, darling” he grunted, pouring some more soap onto the sponge “i might think there’s something wrong”
“would you rather i grabbed your face with the gloves that are dirty with some left-over ramyeon and soap and then kissed you?” you snickered, nudging his arm. after a long time of silence he mumbled a quiet no and resumed washing the dishes.
a smile crept on your face as you scraped off the burned remains of what were supposed to be pancakes this morning.
this. this is what you meant by saying you love doing mundane things with cheol.
masterlist <3
taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth
#svt x reader#svt#svt scenarios#svt imagines#svt reader#svt x y/n#svt x you#svt reactions#svt fluff#svt comfort#svt seungcheol#svt scoups#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol x reader#seventeen seungcheol#choi seungcheol#seungcheol scenarios#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol x you#scoups fluff#scoups
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"What would it be like to date Boo Seungkwan?"
photo credits: @shua-ssi
angst, fluff, mention of smut;
warning: sorry for any typos, unfortunately i'm not fluent in english :(
How did you meet?
On a Saturday morning, you crawl lazily into the coffee shop on the corner of your street. You woke up craving hot chocolate, so you decided to treat yourself to a full breakfast.
As you walk up to the counter to place your order, you come across a confused man trying to choose something from the menu. Noticing his difficulty, you approach him in a friendly manner and say: "Hi, I see you're having trouble with the menu, do you need any help?"
The man smiles embarrassedly as he confirms with a shake of his head. He drags the menu towards him and points with his finger at a picture. "Could you tell me the ingredients of this drink? I've been pretending to choose something from the menu for an hour now, but my English isn't very good and I don't understand what it says."
You laugh warmly before explaining the ingredients of each drink, and after helping the man to order, you look at him and ask: "May I know your name?"
He gives a big smile and replies: "Of course! My name is Boo Seungkwan. May I also know the name of the savior of my breakfast?"
First Meeting
The cool evening breeze whips through your hair as your steps quicken, unfortunately you're 15 minutes late for your meeting with Boo. As you walk quickly, you can't help but curse the subway, did public transportation have to be so slow today?
As you enter the restaurant, you see him smiling as he waves to you. As you sit down at the table, he hands you a large glass of beer while saying: "Y/N, you took a long time to arrive, I thought I was going to have to eat alone!"
"I'm sorry, Boo." You say, taking a big gulp of beer to quench your thirst. "Unfortunately the subway didn't want us to meet today."
"One more reason for me to hate the subway." He jokes as he picks up the menu for you to choose something. "I'll only forgive you because you look so beautiful."
"Do I look pretty?" You laugh shyly, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "Are you trying to seduce me, Boo?"
You notice the blush appearing on his cheeks as he looks away from the menu. He gives you a shy smile as he replies: "That was my intention all along. Do you like barbecue?"
First kiss
"Boo, stop throwing breadcrumbs at the birds! There's an army of them in front of us." You scold him fearfully as you cower on the bench you're sitting on.
"Don't be like that Y/N, they're hungry! Look how cute they are, they're our friends." He says distractedly, throwing more crumbs to the newly arrived birds.
"When the bread runs out, they'll attack us! There's too many of them, Boo!" You say, holding his arm to stop him from throwing any more crumbs. "I'm scared!"
"What can I do to calm you down? Would you like a hug? A kiss?" He says playfully as he throws the packet of crumbs into the garbage can next to the bench.
Your cheeks flush, you think it's the perfect moment to do what you've been thinking about for weeks. In an impulse of courage you reply: "Yes, I want to."
Seungkwan looks at you with wide eyes, his mouth open in surprise. He spends a few minutes opening and closing his mouth, thinking about what to say when he finally says: "Did you mean it?"
"Yes." Nervousness is present in your voice as you try to explain yourself. "I mean, I'm not going to be upset if you don't want to, I just thought that-"
He interrupted you by putting his hands under your face and kissing you gently. At first, surprise overtook your body and you didn't know how to act properly, but you quickly composed yourself and reciprocated by putting your hands under his arms.
Dating request
You were very worried. Your communication with Seungkwan had been terrible for exactly a week.
Over the last week, he's only replied to basic messages. Now he's sent you a message asking you to meet him at a flower shop on the other side of town. What's wrong with him? Is he crazy to want you out late at night? Why does he want to see you in a flower shop? Has someone close to him passed away?
Worried about this last possibility, you quickly get up from the sofa and pack your old, worn-out sweatshirt, heading for the door. Leaving your apartment, you begin to mentally pray that nothing bad has happened to Boo.
When you arrive at the flower shop, you see him visibly nervous, dressed in a nice suit while he seems to be going over something in his head. When he realizes you're there, he screams in fright, putting his hands under his chest.
You laugh warmly as you take his hands in yours. You remember why you came here and ask: "Boo, is everything okay? Why are you wearing a suit late at night in front of a flower shop?"
"Please, let's go in." He says nervously, opening the door for you.
As you enter, you're confronted with small lights hanging everywhere, showing a small, cozy space surrounded by various types of flowers of all colors and sizes. It was like a fairytale garden, the place was surreal!
"Boo, it's so beautiful here! I feel like I'm in a fairy tale!" You say impressed by the beauty of the place, turning to face the man behind you.
"Y/N." Seungkwan takes her hands between his and sighs nervously. "I rehearsed a lot for this moment, I went over what I was going to say all week, but honestly, I can't remember anything right now." He gives you a nervous laugh as he scratches his throat to continue." "I really like you, I fell in love with you from the first day I saw you. I don't stop thinking about you for a minute during the day and I have an overwhelming desire to make you mine. I want to take care of you, I want to create memories with you and I want to keep giving you the best of me every day."
He approaches you gently and looks deep into your eyes. "Y/N, will you date me?"
First I love you
"Boo, the saucepan is burning! I asked you to stir it!" You say angrily as you rush to turn off the heat and avoid a disaster.
"Stirring the saucepan?" He says confused. "I understood that I was supposed to cut radishes."
"Boo, I asked you to stir the saucepan, I asked you three times." You sigh angrily and turn to him. "You're a terrible kitchen assistant, this is the third time you've ruined our dinner, I want you out of my kitchen!"
He widens his eyes in amazement and says: "You're very ungrateful, you can't throw me out like that." He drops the knife on the counter and puts the radishes aside, crossing his arms to face you.
"Not only can I, but I will." You try to push him out of the kitchen, while he remains resilient in his position. "Come on Boo Seungkwan, I have to finish cooking dinner."
"What you're doing to me is assault." He says indignantly as he continues with his arms crossed. "I'm just not going to report it because I like you very much and I love you very much."
You stop pushing him and turn away to face him with a big smile on your lips. Seungkwan wrinkles his nose, pretending to be offended. You approach him and place a small kiss on his lips, holding him in a tight embrace.
"I love you too, Boo! I love you so much!" You say softly as you pull away to look at him. "Now get out of my kitchen, being cute with me won't help you get away with it."
First fight
"Boo, is something wrong? You've been avoiding me since we got back from dinner." You say worriedly as you sit down next to him on the sofa.
"I don't know Y/N, why don't you ask Jeonghan hyung if there's something wrong?" He mutters angrily as he stares at a random point in the room.
"Calm down, are you jealous? What's gotten into you?" you ask, irritated by the sudden attack, while trying to understand what's going on.
"What's wrong with me?" He finally looks at you after a long time of avoiding you. "Do you think it's cool to talk to your boyfriend all the time about how cool another guy is?"
"Seungkwan, Jeonghan is your friend!" You shout angrily about what your boyfriend has just insinuated. "I said he was nice because he was the most receptive to me, I thought you were happy that I was making friends with your friends."
"You've made a very strong friendship with Jeonghan hyung, haven't you?" He wrinkles his nose in disgust and glares at you, fury showing on his face.
"You know what, Seungkwan? I'm not going to argue with you. You've just ruined my evening!" You shout angrily as you head for your room. "I hope you'll think about that ridiculous attitude you're having, good night!" You bid him farewell by slamming the door.
First time
It's a quiet night, you're lying comfortably on your boyfriend's chest while you enjoy the comfortable silence that hangs in the room.
You feel his hands gently reaching under your blouse to caress your back. It's been a while since he discovered that this is a sensitive spot for you, so he likes to run his fingertips gently down your back to see you squirming on it.
"Boo, it's tickling." You laugh softly, squirming under his touch. Trying to get away from your boyfriend's hands, you climb on top of him, putting your legs next to his body, hugging him to distract him.
Your action isn't enough to make Seungkwan give up, he traps you in a hug and keeps running one of his hands over your back. You squirm trying to escape your boyfriend's grip, trying to hold back the series of shivers and gasps that want to escape your body.
"Baby, I think you'd better stop." He says seriously as he uses both hands to stop you on his lap.
You look at him in confusion, but as you try to move, you feel something beneath you. Realizing what it is, you widen your eyes in surprise as you feel a warmth spread through your body.
"I think we'd better go to sleep." Seungkwan clears his throat to disguise his discomfort, moving his hand to her hips to lift her off his lap.
"Baby, what if I don't want to sleep?" You answer timidly, remaining resistant in your position. As you sit up, you press your ass against your boyfriend's erection, making him moan softly.
He sighs audibly and holds his hips, casting a needy glance at you. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured, we can sleep if you want."
"I want to, let me take care of you. Since I caused the problem, I have to solve it, right?" You say seductively, while moving your hips slowly over your boyfriend.
Seungkwan can't stand your teasing, he puts his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss.
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen smut#seventeen reactions#seventeen oneshot#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seungkwan#seventeen x reader#svt reader#seungkwan x reader#seventeen seungkwan#seungkwan smut#seungkwan imagines#seungkwan scenarios#svt seungkwan
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✰ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ✰
✰ non idol! jeon wonwoo x fem! reader
✰ genre: fluff, humor, established relationship
✰ warnings: none besides like one cuss word if you care <3
✰ word count: 944
after midnight was the time where it felt like you and wonwoo became closer and closer to one another. no matter how long you two knew one another, you always managed to discover something new about the other. to the two of you, that time frame between late night and early morning was your most sacred time together. it was an intimate time that revolved around your souls and no one else's. during this time, you could be as vulnerable or as silly as you two chose to be, and no one else mattered except for each other.
“you know when i first met you, i was terrified of talking to you.” you mentioned out of the blue. you both were on the rooftop of your apartment building, lying with your head in his lap, staring up at the starry sky. “really? i thought i seemed pretty approachable…” wonwoo chuckled, looking down for a moment, temporarily blocking your view of the sky with a much better view: him.
“yeah, i don’t know… i think i was just overwhelmed at how attractive you were. sometimes i still feel like that, but it’s not as bad as it used to be. at least now i can actually form words around you.” you laughed at the memories of how you used to struggle to even say “hi” to him whenever he would approach you before you two started dating.
wonwoo let out a breathy laugh at your reply. “i guess i never really had that problem around you. as introverted as i am, i always felt like it was easy to talk to you i guess?” his voice lilted as he pondered about your past interactions. “wow mr. confident, i guess lil ole introverted me wasn’t cool, cute, and awesome enough to make the jeon wonwoo nervous… gee thanks…” you rolled your eyes playfully.
wonwoo looked down at you once again and made eye contact, “babe, you know that is not what i meant.” he sighed in amusement, looking off into the distance before he began to speak again. “you’re one of the coolest, cutest, awesomest people i know, you always take my breath away. what i meant was that your beauty never really scared me. from the moment i first saw you, and then from the moment that we shared our first conversation, you gave me a sense of comfort and i just knew that i didn’t have to worry about being nervous around you. i always used to struggle to talk to people, sometimes i still do, but you changed that. make sense now?”
after wonwoo finished his explanation, you lied there quiet. he had knocked the air out of your lungs, the words out of your mouth, and the thoughts out of your brain. you couldn’t do anything except smile up at him. wonwoo looked down a moment later, wondering why you had gone so quiet. he took one look at you, smiled and let out a laugh again. “wow, look at you all smiley. have i managed to make the y/n l/n speechless? i guess i still got it,” he grinned. “when you find your words again, i’ll be here waiting.” he said, grinning even more.
that knocked you out of your happy trance real quick. “oh shut up you little cocky motherfucker.” the words that came out of your mouth and the eyeroll you did didn’t match the smile that was still etched onto your face. you rose up from where you were lying and sat across from him. “i was gonna say that what you said was really cute and nice, but now i’m taking it all back”, you pouted.
wonwoo grinned even more (more than you thought was humanly possible) as he grabbed your wrist gently, pulling you in for a hug. “aww it’s okay baby, you know you love me, and i love you too. even when you’re lost for words.” you sighed, “i have a few words i’m thinking of saying right now. they happen to start with the letters “f” and “y” if you wanna try and figure it out instead of squishing me”. he just hugged you tighter after your remark, ignoring what you said with a laugh.
after a minute or so, you both pulled away from the hug. “actually now that i think about it, i do have one question about what you said.” you mentioned. “what’s up?” he answered, reaching over you to grab a handful of gummy bears. “you said that i was one of the coolest, cutest, awesomest people you know…” with a mouth full of gummies, he answered back muffled. “yeah.. and?”
“how am i not the coolest, cutest, awesomest person you know? i should be the only one.”
“oh, it's simple, you’re in second place”, he answered nonchalantly. his voice was muffled again with yet another handful of gummy bears entering his mouth.
“second place!? if your own girlfriend isn’t in first place, then who is?” you looked at him, genuinely confused, wanting to know who was ranked as first place on wonwoo’s “favorite person list”.
he paused for a second to chew, “duh, buttercup.”
you stared back at your boyfriend, dumbfounded at his answer. “wonwoo, baby, buttercup is our cat.”
“...and your point is…?”, he looked at you like you were the crazy one.
late nights with wonwoo were definitely when you learned the most about one another. and that night you learned that wonwoo believed that your pet cat was cooler, cuter, and more awesome than you, his own human girlfriend of 3 years. yeah… after midnight was a special time.
✰ hey... long time no see... 😅 guess me posting on here sporadically is a running theme atp.. 🤡 wasn't expecting it to end up being almost a year since i posted on here 🚶🏽♀️ but here we are ig...!! tbh i really don't have an excuse besides lack of motivation but i appeared today so (small wins😛)!!!
✰ anyways... thanks for reading & to everyone who's liked my posts on here love ya!!! 😘🫶🏽
✰ no stealing pls & thanks !
✰ likes, reblogs, & constructive criticism are always appreciated <3
#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#kpop imagines#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo fanfic#seventeen fanfic#seventeen wonwoo#svt wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#jeon wonwoo x reader#svt wonwoo x reader#kpop fanfic#jeon wonwoo fluff#svt fluff#wonwoo drabble#svt drabbles#svt x reader#svt x y/n#svt reader#svt#seventeen#seventeen x female reader#svt x female reader#kpop x female reader#svt ff#seventeen ff#wonwoo ff#jeon wonwoo ff#kpop ff
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TEASER
Party Favors: "Got that special just for you."
» pairing: idol!seungcheol x fem!reader
» official summary: check this out!
» snippet: after realizing you have absolutely nothing to wear to this concert, you go out to buy a “concert ready” outfit. unfortunately, the interactions you have at the store quickly turn sour.
» wc: 1.1k
» a/n: don’t hate me but official release is still TBD 😚
» a/n pt.2 : the girl in the photo is just to showcase the outfit she is NOT meant to be a representation of “Y/N”.
» tags: @coupshour
Thanking the worker once more, you close the door, not wanting to waste another second in trying this on.
Once you get the skirt on, you blink.
“Oh, this is….” You bring the fabric down a smidge then just stare. So, it’s a little bit smaller than you were expecting. Backtrack, this thing hardly covers your ass cheeks.
I feel like they wouldn’t let me step foot into the arena, you’re still gaping down at the skirt. Had you gotten the wrong size? No, you remember checking before grabbing it. Ah, deep down you know this hasn’t nothing to do with sizing.
Rapid fire of notifications alerts you away from your current problem and over to your phone resting on a stool, showcasing many missed messages from Sooji.
6:49 PM
Soo:
hey pretty lady how’s shopping
send lots of pictures!!
6:53 PM
Soo:
y/n are you at the store now?
7:02 PM
Soo:
hello???
7:04 PM
Soo:
stop ignoring me
7:05 PM:
Soo:
waahhhhhh
7:10 PM
You:
um
would something like this be okay?
sent image
If anyone knew anything about fashion and K-Pop concerts, Sooji would be the club president of these things. It doesn’t take long for her to get back to you and a part of you thinks it’s because she’s trying to skip out on her break. Again.
7:11 PM
Soo:
oh my fucking god
7:12 PM
You:
i knew it it’s too much
7:12 PM
Soo:
please tell me you’re on the way to the checkout!!
like shit, y/n
it looks so hot on you
You’re biting on your lip as you think it over, still reeling in from disbelief. Maybe it isn’t as short as you think it is? Bending down to toss your phone back on the seat, a sliver of pink become visible from your behind and you whine.
Oh god. If there is some sort of dress code violation, this would be at the top of the lis- your thoughts are broken from your phone lighting up once more due to Sooji.
7:15 PM
Soo:
hey!!! since you have the skirt i have the perfect top to go with it
so don’t worry about getting a shirt just focus on any accessories
ooh like these glasses!
sent image
then we can match
You know what; the more you think about the skirt, the more in your head you get. And the more in your head you get, the more stressed you get about something that really shouldn’t be this stressful.
Bottoms have been Sooji-approved; I should not be debating this still.
So, to combat this cycle, you simply choose to stop thinking. Your hands move with no thought behind them as they unbutton and pull down the skirt. You put back on your previous pants, then head out of the room and straight towards the sunglasses section.
The longer you would’ve stayed there, the longer you would’ve contemplated that decision, so really, the best and only option for you was to just run away.
The type of glasses Sooji had sent were cute little cat-eyed glasses that as you approach the display, appear to be the last ones.
You smile to yourself, thinking how lucky you've gotten when a hand not belonging to you reaches and snatches the pair.
"Hey- I wasn't done...."
Your tone trails off as you realize exactly who the person was. There stands the man from earlier, holding the glasses like some sort of prize.
"Sorry? Were you looking at them?"
And was he trying to mock you?
You open your mouth as if you were going to speak, but instead prop a hip out, "Oh, I think you knew I was."
If he wanted to play like this, alright, so be it.
The dude tilts his face down to meet your gaze and despite having majority of his face covered, you just knew he had to be smiling smugly to himself. At least a tiny one.
"I was here first," you continue, not breaking eye contact, "And clearly I was interested in them."
He cocks his head to the side, feigning confusion, "But, they're in my hand."
"Cause you took-!"
Someone shushes you from the distance which gives you a sense of realization. Taking a breath, you reel yourself in. No way are you going to let this complete stranger make you lose your cool, especially when he's the one in the wrong.
"You buying that?" He gestures to the skirt with a nod once you give him a perplexed expression.
You look down at the short fabric then mumble out a, "Yeah..."
He hums, "These wouldn't match with that anyways."
You scoff and scrunch your face. You didn't even know this person yet for some reason, he felt he could talk to you however he wanted?
"What's your problem?"
The more you look at him the more you start to notice how you could see parts of his eyes through the shade. And they're boring deep into yours.
"My problem? I don't have one," He thinks something over as you go to retort the statement, but he's quick to finish, "Actually....yeah I think maybe I do. And she's actually standing right in front of me."
Motion from behind him causes you to avert your attention towards the door. The man sees that then glances over his shoulders in the same direction, only to see a person dressed in all black (professionally, not like how he is) waving him over.
"What? Is that your body guard or something?" You half-joke but it comes out more snappy than intended. Oh, who're you kidding, you wanted to show the attitude.
He looks back to you but doesn't say anything, and you almost start to think he didn't get it when roughly he clears his throat, "Thanks for the glasses."
Before you get the chance to yell at him some more, he's stalking off towards the checkout, then shortly to door with the...security guard?
You're left baffled by the entire interaction with this mysterious - crazy - person, let alone by the fact that he jacked your glasses.
Really, who does he think he is? It's not like you wanted to clash into him and then be forced to converse with him, it was an accident! He took that whole thing way too personally. Right?
Your eyes do a dramatic eye roll as you focus back on the task at hand.
At the end of the day, you were still going to buy this short ass skirt. And hopefully by doing so, you could prove something to the rando that you'll probably never see again. Whoever he may be.
Sooji is so gonna have a field day with this.
#seventeen x reader smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen scoups#scoups x reader#choi seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol#scoups smut#svt x reader#svt reader#kpop smut#kpop x reader#svt#seventeen#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#svt scoups#svt imagines#seventeen fanfic#seventeen seungcheol#seventeen Choi seungcheol
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Scenic Route
Summary: Road trip entertainment dries up fast, but Soonyoung has one more idea to help you pass the time.
▸ Pairing: Soonyoung x F!reader
▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ / pwp / established relationship
If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.
▸ Warnings: unsafe driving, oral (m, f receiving), piv, (light) breath play, creampie
▸ Word Count: 2.1k
▸ A/N: Wishing the happiest of birthdays to my lovely friend @onlymingyus! I hope you enjoy this slice of debauchery cake!
@shuadotcom is my beta and my world <3
Love you both sm!
“I’m bored.”
“You’re bored? You’re not even driving,” Soonyoung scoffs, gaze fixed on the road ahead.
The problem with road trips is that between the rest stops and attractions, there are too many dead zones with little to look at in between. You’ve read, slept, listened to an audiobook, and even after another nap, you and Soonyoung still haven’t arrived at your destination for the night.
“Yeah, I’m not driving or doing anything else. My phone has no bars,” you pout as you put your screen to sleep again, silently praying for the millionth time for better service.
Soonyoung’s been with you long enough to know when you’re on the cusp of boredom-induced crankiness, so he racks his brain for ideas as he reaches over to squeeze your thigh comfortingly. “If you’re so bored, why don’t you get off and then go back to sleep?”
You’re sure that Soonyoung can feel your eyes boring holes into the side of his head. He can’t hide the way the sides of his lips quirk up, but he makes it a point not to return your stare. “You’re serious?”
His free hand moves from your leg to gesture at the steering wheel instead. “Unless you want to switch?”
Ahead of you, there’s only an endless stretch of road and no other cars for what seems like miles. Getting back into the driver’s seat would be the only thing more boring than your current predicament. So getting off….that actually might be the best idea Soonyoung’s had all day.
But upright in the passenger’s seat isn’t the most ideal position. Sure, you could draw your legs up onto the seat and open yourself wide to make room for your fingers – it’s just not that comfortable. Finally, an even better idea dawns on you.
“What if I gave you road head?”
When Soonyoung finally does dare to glance at you, it’s with a mix of excitement and worry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he draws the bottom one between his teeth thoughtfully. “You wanna? Will that work for you?”
You’ve sucked Soonyoung off in plenty of locations – the woods, a manmade hot spring, his parents’ house, a department store dressing room – but never in the car. His biggest issue is usually with keeping quiet and for once, that’s not a factor. So why not?
“It’s something fun to do, like you were saying. Come on, turn on cruise control.”
Soonyoung fiddles with the controls on the steering wheel and adjusts in his seat, giving you enough room to work his cock out of his pants. It’s not the smoothest, but the elastic waistband of his sweats are forgiving enough to work with.
You waste no time, gathering saliva on your tongue and engulfing half of his cock in the heat of your mouth. Soonyoung hisses and fidgets with nowhere to go. When all he does is cuss and you feel him getting firmer, you figure it’s safe enough to keep going.
With his arms just above you gripping the wheel, you can’t bob your head with the vigor that you usually would. Pushing yourself to lean a little further into Soonyoung’s lap, you hollow your cheeks and hold yourself there, delighting in the way he twitches against your tongue. Soonyoung makes a sound that’s somewhere between a yelp and a groan; it’s all the confirmation you need to proceed.
Alternating between swiping your tongue around his length and throating as much as you can proves to be a winning combination. It’s barely any time at all before the familiar saltiness of his precum hits your tongue. Having Soonyoung unravel beneath you is always arousing, but every time you get a taste of his essence, it instantly doubles your excitement.
It’s starting to feel uncomfortably damp between your thighs and you squeeze them for what’s honestly not enough relief, but you will yourself to at least finish him off before you find another position that will let you sink your fingers into your core.
Just as you’re starting to get lost in Soonyoung, he swears again and you feel the car veer to the right. His palm rests against the back of your hand when you try to assess; not forceful or scared, simply reassuring. You slow your ministrations down, letting him rest against the flat of your tongue as you await an explanation.
When the car rolls to a smooth stop, Soonyoung lifts you back up and throws the gear in park. He’s pulled into a lookout spot between a thicket of trees, the front of the vehicle facing the rolling waves of the sea. It’s a gorgeous view that belongs on a postcard. You turn to tell Soonyoung as much, appreciating the romantic touch, but the words die in your throat as you watch his eyes indulgently fall over your curves.
“I need more than just your perfect mouth, baby girl. Let’s have some more fun.”
If you don’t tell him “no”, Soonyoung just takes. And when you don’t stop him now, that’s all the signal he needs. He twists off the ignition and hastily unbuckles your seatbelt, all but shoving you into the back before he ejects himself from the driver’s seat.
Soonyoung is great at eating pussy, so you certainly never require an excuse from him if he wants to do just that. Nonetheless, he provides an explanation of “since we don’t have lube” as he kneels on the ground in front of the car, settling between your unclothed legs as they dangle haphazardly off the side of the seat.
You’d no plans to argue anyway, but any sense of uncertainty went out the window the moment his tongue drags up your entrance and lush lips kiss your clit. The sensation plunges you into a pit of need with Soonyoung every single time, whether you’re ready for it or not. Then, when he pushes the soft muscle into your dewy entrance, your legs reflexively snap shut, only blocked by his shoulders.
Soonyoung lets you trap him there, relaxing his jaw so he can sloppily mouth at your swollen lips, tongue still working into you as deep as he can get it. You can’t hold off your orgasm for very long when he’s like this, eager and voracious. Soonyoung knows it too – and when you start to spasm around him he pushes deeper and sucks as his nose nudges against your clit.
Your hands fly to his hair when you feel him groan and nuzzle into you. Soonyoung reaches up to take your hands instead, weaving your fingers together so he can anchor you as the flame in your stomach bursts into a fireball. It feels like the wind’s been knocked out of you as your body temperature spikes and you fall to pieces on Soonyoung’s tongue. He lets you ride the feeling out on his face, content to forgo oxygen if it means breathing only you in instead.
It feels like your climax lasts forever, though it’s clear that Soonyoung’s been (impatiently?) waiting for you to reach a plane of calm bliss when he rises and his bottoms are pulled just below his ass to expose his cock, hard and weeping from the tip. You crane your neck to get a better look, but Soonyoung does one better and climbs right on top of you, caging you on your back between his knees.
You call to him and Soonyoung singsongs your name back, leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek. At the last second, you turn your head and force him to meet your lips, giggling at the taste of yourself on him. “Love you,” you whisper.
Soonyoung pulls back just enough to study you, showering you with affection with his eyes before he repeats, “Love you too, baby.”
He scooches forward and then he’s pushing inside, cock pulsing as your walls mold around him. You gasp along with him, holding onto his forearms as he starts to move. Soonyoung looks so good like this: chin tucked into his chest and brows tight as “fuck yes”s and more “love yous” tumble from his lips. Taking in the sight helps you to appreciate the slight burn that comes with his cock stretching you open, as is always the case when you’re both too excited to bother going any slower.
What helps the most, though, is the way Soonyoung mumbles out praises when he begins to thrust with real intent.
“So perfect for me, made for me.” “You always feel so good, princess.” “Taking this dick like a fucking pro.” No matter how vulgar it sounds, the praise feels like a weighted blanket, wrapping you up in threads made of need and adoration.
The distant sound of tires on gravel threatens to pull you from the headspace that is only Soonyoung, a moan dissipating in your throat before you can breathe it out. He’d ignored the way the car felt like a sauna and how cramped this all was, but the threat of being caught finally gets him to pause.
Soonyoung grouses as he pulls himself from you, twisting around awkwardly to bat your legs until you pull them closer so he can slam the car door closed. With your quarters at their tightest yet, he yanks you toward him by your hips and then rocks you back with your knees folded into your chest.
This time when Soonyoung sinks into you, it’s so much deeper. He sets a breakneck pace, pupils blown as he watches you whine at the feeling while he smacks his hips into your ass. The tires you heard earlier are less distant now, but Soonyoung won’t let you worry about it further.
He presses his entire body into you, your combined weight forcing out a punched exhale as he grinds his hips against you feverishly. The tip of Soonyoung’s cock is prodding at the knot forming in your belly. Your mouth falls open, but he shushes you and makes sure to fully relax atop you, stopping you from taking in enough air to make more noise.
Soonyoung controls everything from your orgasms to every breath you dare to take in. The reminder tugs sharply at the knot as your eyes roll back and flutter shut, succumbing to the pleasure bullying its way through your body.
“Ssh, ssh,” he murmurs above you, voice shaky with his own end quickly approaching. “You can cum like this, can’t you? Don’t wanna get caught.” All you can do is nod as he grinds deep, rhythm faltering as he grits out, “So, so, so good for me, baby girl.”
Soonyoung shifts just barely, but the change is enough to press into your aching clit. The friction surprises you, knot snapping as blood rushes in your ears and your climax rips through your limbs. You’re too wrapped up in each other to see it, but you can hear the way your cum oozes out and pools at your entrance to form a ring around your abused hole. It’s lewd, perverse in a way that would have you drawing in a breath if Soonyoung would allow it.
The way your cavernous walls shrink around and pull Soonyoung’s cock inward slows his movement, but not his intensity. Feeling you gush around him and watching you cum silently, lungs at his mercy, goes straight to his balls. They grow tighter when he finally eases off of you to thrust at one more angle, the anticipation making him tingle.
You gasp deeply and whimper, “Soonyoung” pitifully when you’re finally allowed to breathe once again. You feel pleasantly warm all over, if not a little achy, and smile up at him, dopey.
The sight of you fucked out is what does Soonyoung in at last, gritting out more praise as he stills and hot cum floods your cunt.
You stay together like that for a few minutes, panting and sweaty as your skin sticks together uncomfortably. When Soonyoung finally does move, you sigh with relief as you extend your legs, the movement soothing even if you can’t rest them down properly with the limited space.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Soonyoung frets, grimacing at his own sweat. “Paper towels are in the trunk, I think. That other car left – let me go back there so I can clean you up.”
“S’ok,” you mumble, basking in twilight.
Soonyoung loves you all of the time, but especially in moments like this when all you feel is the warmth of paradise.
“I love you so much, Y/N,” he admits softly.
“Love you too.”
Twenty minutes later, you’re passed out with your hood pulled up and cinched together under your chin, head leaning against the window.
Soonyoung peers at you, smiling contentedly at knowing he’s the cause. “Can’t wait to get to the damn hotel,” he says aloud to himself. “Got some more fun for you there, baby.”
#svthub#kvanity#hoshi x reader#soonyoung x reader#svt reader#seventeen x reader#hoshi smut#soonyoung smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#hoshi fic#soonyoung fic#svt fic#seventeen fic
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i hate you (affectionately) — jeon wonwoo
pairing: wonwoo x reader
content: fluff, college au, tutor!won, junhui is your twin brother
wc: 770
"Hey Y/n? Are you okay? Why do you look so glum?" Your older brother Junhui pinched your cheeks waking you up from your reverie. You just sighed and removed his hand from your face.
"Maybe I really did something bad on my past life to deserve this punishment," you shook your head in dismay. "Why do you even have to suck all the genius blood in our mother's womb and then left nothing for me? What a twin brother you are."
Junhui let out a hearty laugh. He's obviously enjoying this. "So you're being like this because Wonwoo is tutoring you?"
"Do you really have to ask?" you hissed at him. "You could've at least convinced Mom that you'll just be the one to tutor me. You're one of the top students, for God's sake!"
"Yes, but I'd rather not do that because one,” he held up his hand before you and folded a finger. “You're unbearable and you always have a lot of things to complain when I'm teaching you. Two, I have better things to do and three, I'm helping my bestfriend earn his voluntary work hours."
"Just say you love your bestfriend than your own sister."
"I don't. I still love you more. But this might prove beneficial to you in the long run, just give it a shot."
"And how would it benefit me? I would have to spend an hour a day with your prick of a bestfriend! Do you know how torturous that is for me?"
"Well, I think not as torturous as me having to put up with all your unreasonable whining," said a familar voice which was obviously not Junhui's. You turned around only to find the person you have been badmouthing right now. He's still wearing his university uniform with his spectacles on.
Okay. It's hard not to notice that he looks so handsome with it but of course, you're not gonna admit that out loud.
"Bro, you're finally here!" Your brother greeted him and they did this fistbump thingy they always do when they meet each other. "Just please pretend you didn't hear what she said. She didn't have her daily fill of coffee so she's a little dramatic right now."
"She's always dramatic," Wonwoo shrugged. "I'm used to it by now."
You automatically groaned in annoyance, "Don't talk that way about me like I'm not here!"
They both stared at you for a second until Junhui tapped Wonwoo's shoulder. "I'm gonna leave her to you now. I know you can handle her."
Wonwoo nodded, "I guess I have to try my best."
Before you could hear any more of their snide remarks, you already turned around and marched your way to the study room where you will be doing the tutoring session.
It didn't take long until Wonwoo finally followed you. He put down his things first on the table before looking at you.
"Y/n," he calmly called and you swear you could feel his stare digging to the deepest part of your soul. "Won't you give me a hug?"
Your lips broke into a wide smile as you rushed over to him and encircled your arms around his neck. "I missed you."
"I missed you too, babe. Haven't seen you in school the whole day and when I finally came here, I had to hear you call me prick," a hint of sulking was etched on Wonwoo's voice.
"You know I didn't mean that," you said and cupped his face using both of your hands. "I just had to put up a show to my brother. I had to hide my excitement or else he'll know."
"Truth is, he already knows Y/n..."
"What?"
"Jun already knows were together," Wonwoo chuckled upon seeing your shock-stricken face. "He actually set up this whole thing. You know he could tutor you himself but he convinced your Mom that I should do it."
"I bet that's why he was laughing at me earlier. I might've looked so stupid. He's really a menace! He should've just told me the truth," you buried your face in his chest while he tightened his hold on your waist. "And you even agreed with him on calling me dramatic!"
"Because it's true?" he teased which earned him a slap on the back from you. "Nonetheless, it's still one of the many things I love about you, Y/n. It's part of your charm."
You giggled upon hearing what he said, "Should we just go on a date?"
"No," he replied. "We should get some tutoring done today or your brother would wring my neck."
--♡--
#seventeen#svt scenarios#svt au#svt#svt reader#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#wonwoo x y/n#seventeen imagines#fluff
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ꢐ S.coups ꒰ ꒰ seventeen ꒱ ꒱ lockscreens ♡
#choi seungcheol#seventeen seungcheol#seungcheol moodboard#seungcheol svt#seungcheol seventeen#scoups#scoups moodboard#scoups seventeen#scoups svt#scoups icons#choi seungcheol imagines#seventeen#svt#svt moodboard#svt scoups#svt lockscreens#svt layouts#svt icons#svt reader#seventeen moodboard#seventeen lockscreens#seventeen layouts#seventeen carat#seventeen comfort#seventeen art#seventeen icons#kpop bg#moodboard#lockscreens#kpop lockscreen
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hi hi hi! could i request p.u.n.k girl with jeonghan? tysm!
I really like the setup for this one, hope you enjoy it too!!
masterlist
[2:46]
Somebody's throwing rocks at Jeonghan's window, and he's not enjoying it too much.
Kicking the sheets off, he pads to his window, yanking it open to curse the perpetrator's entire bloodline for waking him up at this ungodly hour.
He's not sure how he hadn't called it, but when he sees your Cheshire Cat smile looking up at him from your place outside the house, he can only laugh in mild shock.
"Hey Rapunzel, why don't you put down your hair and join me for a midnight stroll?" you call out cheekily.
"I thought we were past the days of Romeo and Juliet, we have front doors and a lack of parental supervision. Make your life easier and call me if you're here, perhaps?" His tone is a little snappier than usual, the sleep yet to leave his body.
"What's the fun in that? Come on, I told my boss I was dying of a rare viral infection at the hospital so I wouldn't have to take the morning shift. Look at me lying to spend time with you."
"You'd lie to save a cockroach, forgive me for not feeling special."
Huffing in response, Jeonghan watches you disappear from view, presumably stomping into the building to come upstairs.
When you do finally join him in bed, he hopes you'll deflate your energy levels and just go to sleep with him. His eyes are already closing as he feels you nuzzle into him, his own arms coming up to attach you to himself.
The peace lasts for perhaps five minutes before you break out of his hold again. Sitting up, you throw yourself on his half-asleep form and try to shake him awake again.
Jeonghan considers homicide.
But the look you were giving him, pouty face and all, was enough for him to sigh and sit up himself.
"What do you wanna do?"
With how your face lights up in absolute elation, how you begin to ramble about riding bikes next to the river because it'd be empty, about how you wanted to smell the evening primrose.
You don't get to finish your monologue, because Jeonghan has brought his hands to your face to pull you in for a kiss. It's a short peck, that turns into multiple as you giggle at his burst of affection.
"Does this mean I'm forgiven for waking you up?"
"Sure, punk," he replies before diving in for another.
#svt#seventeen#svt fluff#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#svt reader#svt jeonghan#jeonghan#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan scenarios#jeonghan angst#jeonghan fic#jeonghan timestamp#em.writes#em.anon
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" sunbaenim , i like you "
synopsis : dance challenge with dino
your y/n from teenfresh , a girl group from KQ entertainment.
being the main dancer of your group , you were in a group chat with all the main dancers of alot of groups.
through an acquaintance , you got to know dino , though you texted him sometimes , there was a sort of sexual tension between you and dino whenever you guys would see each other.
dino texted you on a random evening , asking if you wanted to do the dance challenge for " wait "...you dmed him saying yes.
later that evening , you and dino were about to learn the choreography for " wait " in your practice room...
you and dino start learning the choreography and mid learning , you lose balance and sprain your ankle...
dino keeps your leg on his lap , slowly trying to figure out which muscle you might have sprained , he got the medical box from your locker and starts spraying a pain relief spray...while there was pain , you still smiled through....you couldn't hide that you were happy that he cares for you..
he starts scolding you " what are you smiling for?? you can't perform! you need to be more careful! "
you still keep smiling , seeing the concern he has in his face..he's visibly confused and you say " sunbaenim.., i like you "
dino just gulps at your words as the tension between both of you gets high...
dino says " your fast in learning choreographies and fast in confessing..."
you immediately reach a bit to the front , kissing him slightly in the lips " and fast in this too..." you say , smiling cheekily
dino just touches his lips with his fingers , " your really...I'm fast too! " he says , before kissing you back.
#seventeen dino#svt dino#dino x reader#lee chan#svt#scoups#jeonghan#joshua#wen junhui#the8#wonwoo#mingyu#seungkwan#hansol vernon chwe#vernon#woozi#hoshi#dokyeom#dk#svt dk#svt reader#svt reactions#seventeen carat#carat#kpop imagines
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Tangled in Love
vernon x reader
summary: there's nothing in the world that vernon loves more than cats. at least, that's what you think
genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, non-idol!au, uni au, f2L, idiots to lovers, fake dating if you squint, technically university au
warnings: none!
wc: 3.8k
a/n: started this a WHILE ago and finished it like a month ago but i wanted to let it sit lol,,, may or may not have been the other option for the poll i put out and then i may or may not have forgotten to post.... anyways i am working for literally the whole summer until school starts again so i can't promise i'll be writing a whole bunch </3 so basically: enjoy bc idk when anything else will come lol (not going on official hiatus though!! just like... limbo) pls pls feel free to drop in anytime and chat!! also requests are open but again,, i'll write when i write lol
tldr: adulting sucks, i love you all, none of this has to do with the actual story lol
Vernon’s car sits in your driveway. The sight of his little red sedan evokes a strong sense of familiarity, almost as if it’s yours. It’s survived high school and his first three years of college, up till now, though the engine sometimes shakes the car a little too much and the air conditioning chooses to work less often than you would prefer. Still, the one time Vernon mentioned getting a new car, you nearly cried, so you don’t let yourself complain too much.
He waits for you, keys in hand, as you tug on your shoes and sprint out the door with a shout of goodbye to your parents. Your shoes nearly slip off because you didn’t put them on all the way and they’re still untied when you make it to the front seat, slamming the door shut behind you and pulling on your seatbelt.
“You didn’t have to rush,” Vernon says, barely sparing a glance at you. You do a supreme job pretending it doesn’t bother you.
“Yeah, but my dad is watching hockey,” you say. Though it’s been years since Vernon has been to your house for a “play date,” you know the memory of your father yelling at the television as if the players can hear him isn’t one that Vernon (or anyone for that matter) can forget easily.
“You know if you move out, you don’t have to hear them,” he says, finally glancing at you before turning his head to watch the road as he backs down the driveway.
“If I move out, I also have to pay my bills on my own,” you say.
“You have three job offers and you haven’t even graduated yet,” Vernon says. “Of all our friends, you are the most financially stable, so don’t you dare try that argument on me.” This debate has been going on ever since Vernon announced he was moving out; two years in the dorms on campus proved more than enough for him.
You don’t understand why he’s so insistent about you moving out. Sure you complain about your parents occasionally but not enough to really matter, and he knows how grateful you are that they’ve let you stay in your childhood room and rarely let you pay for anything.
So why? You set your eyes on him, with his annoyingly perfect features that you’ve known most of your life. He studies the road, indifferent to your glare and undistracted.
That’s the Vernon you know: focused on the moment, and never noticing you. You know how pitiful you sound, pining for someone for so long who has never once spared you a second look. Still, before everything else, he’s your friend, your best friend. You won’t ruin that just because you caught feelings.
“Why are we going an hour away again?” You ask, resting your back against the cushioned seats and turning your head to the window to watch the scenery pass by. It’s easier to avoid thinking about those feelings when you aren’t staring at him.
“Because the people running the rescue needed a volunteer to pick up the kittens.”
“And why am I here?”
“So I don’t get kidnapped or murdered,” Vernon says nonchalantly.
“How am I going to prevent you from getting kidnapped or murdered?”
“Strength in numbers?” He takes his eyes off the road for half a second to flash a smile at you.
You rolled your eyes, plugging your phone into the aux. “You should have asked Jihoon. Between his gym obsession and unbridled rage, the nonexistent potential kidnappers-murderers would never stand a chance.”
“And he has good taste in music. Bump,” he says, bracing his arm in front of you as he hit a particularly large pothole. He drops his arm as soon as the car stops shaking and you ignore the urge to catch his hand in yours.
“He does not, and you better not be implying I have bad taste!” You dig through your playlists, trying to find the Vernon-approved one.
“I was implying but now I’ll outright say it.”
“His playlist is just Bruno Mars and Harry Styles and one random Ariana Grande song.” You hold up the shared playlist for good measure. Vernon ignores you, refusing to take his eyes off the road.
“Okay, not good taste, but better than yours.”
“What is wrong with my taste in music?”
“No comment.”
“How have we been friends this long?” You ask. You can’t quite say it with a straight face; the idea of not having Vernon in your life is an absurdity you can’t imagine.
“By the way, you need to give directions,” Vernon says. “I sent you the address last week.”
You shake your head but dig through the messages to find the address, putting Jihoon’s playlist on to prove your point. Vernon pretends not to care, singing along to “Leave the Door Open,” as if he didn’t make fun of Jihoon a week ago because he played the song on repeat during his four hour shift at the cafe.
When you’re being honest with yourself, you know you want more than riding in Vernon’s front seat and making pointless jokes. More than once, you’ve imagined what it’s like to go home with him and stay there, to wake up in his bed because you share it with him, instead of the times you drank too much and he slept on the couch (because of course Vernon is the type of person to give up his bed for his friend). Moments like that make it harder to remember that he doesn’t feel the same way.
You were doing a great job of paying attention until the second half hour, when you got stuck in standstill traffic. In your mind, only a few minutes pass, but suddenly Vernon shakes your shoulder and your heart shoots bolts of adrenaline into your veins to wake you up.
“We’re here,” he says softly. He holds your phone with the directions still open. The engine shakes the car; he must have literally just stopped. It takes a couple moments to remember that he drove you into the middle of nowhere to pick up some kittens to foster them (another bullet point in the ever growing list of why you love Vernon: he does absolutely insane things for what he loves. What would it be like to be the person he loves?). He stares at you for a moment and for some godforsaken reason, you think he’s going to kiss you.
He points to the corner of your lips. “You drooled.” He laughs at your groan, turning in his seat and cutting the engine, tossing your phone into your lap.
The door creaks when you pull on the handle but it swings open. You are extra careful when you swing it shut, being as gentle as possible. Vernon raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on it. You stretch until your back finally pops, jogging to catch up with Vernon who didn’t wait for you, striding up the smooth driveway.
Warm pastel yellow greets you, a cute door that matches the array of flowers on the front porch perfectly. Vernon sneezes and presses the doorbell, stepping back to wait, shoulder pressing against yours. Even though his jean jacket and your cotton t-shirt separate you from really touching him, you feel a different sort of warm, a tingly feeling that spreads from your insides and makes you feel giddy.
After a couple minutes, the door opens, revealing a smiling woman and a child that can’t be more than five clinging to her leg. “You must be the fosters! Sorry, it’s a little hectic today, but come on in!” She ushers you in, picking up the child.
Some psychopath. You glance at Vernon but he turns his back on you, following the woman down the hall to a closed door. Whatever, it’s not like he needs to see you to know the jokes you make.
“We’ve been keeping them away from the rest of the house since it gets so chaotic,” she says. “I’d love to keep them but we’ve got two toddlers and a hyperactive dog.” She sounds genuinely regretful, which you understand as soon as you step over the baby gate and into the room. It looks like it was a spare bedroom (you can’t help but think it’s for the children when they get too big to share a room), but the bed has been stripped and there isn’t any other furniture. In the middle of the room, in a nest of blankets, a grown cat sits and licks tiny balls of fur that mewl softly in protest. The black cat pauses in her grooming, studying you and Vernon while the woman and her child watch from the door.
“Do you want to tell the lovely couple what we named them?” She asks the child.
You freeze. Did she just call you a couple? “We’re not–” Vernon stops you with a hand on your arm, sitting cross legged on the ground and facing the woman and her child.
“The momma is Pinky,” the child mumbles, barely audible. “‘Cause she has really pink feet.”
You smile at her, though you’re still reeling from Vernon’s hand, which slips from your arm to interlace his fingers with yours. “Did you name her?”
The child grins. “Yeah! But my brother named the babies.” She pouts.
“I think Pinky is a great name,” you say. Vernon grunts in agreement. Pinky stands and wanders slowly toward Vernon’s hand (the one not holding yours), which he holds outstretched while looking away. Looking at you. You get to see the exact moment Pinky brushes her head against his fingers, watch the corners of his mouth creep up in satisfaction, watch his eyes slip away from yours as he strokes her head. She lets off a low rumble as she purrs, brushing her whole body against his foot before leaving him to study you.
You’ve never thought of yourself as a cat-person or a dog-person (you love them all the same), but a life-time as Vernon’s best friend (and an abundance of cat cafes) have trained you in how to get cat’s to befriend you. You let Pinky move however she wants, hyper aware of Vernon’s hand squeezing yours once before letting go.
He shifts to look at the kittens, earning a wary glance from Pinky. She watches him for a moment before turning back to you, brushing against your hand and eventually turning her back on you, purring like the engine of Vernon’s car the entire time.
“What’s this one called?” Vernon asks, pointing to the orange colored kitten.
“That’s Muffin, Momma named her,” the child explains. She stands at the baby gate alone, her mother off somewhere getting all of their supplies so that you and Vernon can leave with them. Her little fingers curl around the metal. “The black one is Fried and the white one is Egg. That’s what my brother named them.”
Vernon nods, smiling over the tiny kittens. Pinky finally decides she doesn’t want him quite so close, leaving your side to place herself between him and the kittens. He laughs, sliding back to sit next to you.
“There’s no way you don’t end up adopting at least one of them,” you whisper.
“I have self-control.”
“Wanna bet?”
Vernon turns to look at you except he’s much too close, nose just barely brushing against yours. It takes all of your willpower not to glance at his lips, infinitely harder when you realize you can feel his breath on your lips. Would he kiss you back? You push that fantasy away immediately: it’s Vernon. He’d push you away and call you weird, or do that judgy-eyebrow-wiggle-thing that he reserves only for special occasions (most recently used when Soonyoung was talking about a hookup gone wrong). You’ve always been the one he looks at when someone does something weird; what would he do if it was you being weird? Your stomach turns, the butterflies eating each other alive. You can’t do that to him, no matter how perfect his lips are.
You jump at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You turn back to the door to see the woman holding a cat carrier doing her best not to smile.
“Not trying to rush you two, but the sooner they settle into a nice loving home, the better,” she says, winking at ‘loving.’ You really should correct her. Actually, Vernon should correct her. He always does, the very few times that you have been mistaken as a couple. He never hesitates, so why isn’t he doing it now? Does he really not realize what she’s implying?
He stands up, turning to face you and extending his hands to pull you up. You roll your eyes but take them anyway, ignoring the way your heart sinks when he lets go this time. He takes the carrier and gently picks up the kittens, blankets and all, and tucks them inside. Pinky follows immediately after, as if she couldn’t bear to be away from her children for more than a second.
“I have a box ready by the door with their food, and toys, and other supplies, and I know you said you have a litter box and you’re ready, but I just wanted to make sure that they settle in nice, and I added a blanket in case they’re homesick, and–” She pauses, peering at the dark holes of the carrier as if she can see the little kittens inside. She takes a deep breath, picking up her child again, stepping to the side so that you and Vernon can leave the room. “I know you two will take good care of them, I do, I just– I’m going to miss them.”
“Me too,” her child says, clinging to her mother’s neck.
The woman smiles. “But we said our goodbyes already, and they’re going to be so happy with these two, right?”
“Of course,” you say when Vernon doesn’t answer. “He’s been obsessed with cats since he was smaller than you!” You wink at the child, who giggles.
You pick up the box at the door, grunting at the heaviness.
“We can switch,” Vernon says softly but you shake your head.
“It’s just to the car, it’s fine.” Vernon looks like he’s going to argue more, but finally he steps onto the front porch, moving as gently as possible, trying to disturb the precious cargo as little as possible.
“Thank you so much again,” the woman says, setting her child down. “We really do wish we could keep them, but it makes me happy knowing that someone capable will be taking care of them, especially an adorable couple like the two of you. Do keep me updated on their adoptions.”
You force a smile and choke out a “thank you,” following Vernon mindlessly down the driveway after she closes the door.
Adorable couple, were her exact words and Vernon said nothing. Why? The word hangs on your tongue, threatening to spill out if you so much as open your mouth. You watch as Vernon sets the carrier in the backseat, then takes the box out of your arms and places it on the floor. You force yourself to move to the passenger side when he raises his eyebrows at you, but once you’re sitting down and the seatbelt is across your chest, you’re frozen again.
Vernon takes your phone when you don’t move, putting in your passcode (the sum of his birthday and yours). He pulls up his own playlist, a collection of hyperpop and indie artists that you normally enjoy listening to. Today it takes all your concentration not to burst.
You almost make it the whole drive, all the way to his block, the apartment building he’s spent the last year and a half in that’s become far too familiar to you. How much time have you wasted away on the floor of his living room, drinking, doing classwork, listening to him talk about the future, rambling to him about the midnight thoughts that threaten your heart? He knows everything about you, except what you need him to know the most.
When the question begins to burn in your heart, you can’t hold it anymore. Vernon pulls into his parking spot and it falls from your lips before you realize it. “Why?”
He has the audacity to feign ignorance, blinking at you before finally asking, “Why what?”
“Why did you let her think we are a couple?”
One of the kittens mewls in the silence, a soft cry for help, sounding pitifully like your own heart.
Vernon stares ahead of him at the concrete wall, the fading red number 19 that designates this spot as his. Just say something, your heart begs him. Stop giving me hope where there is none. His shoulders rise in the tiniest shrug. “I guess I was just curious.”
“Of what?”
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He glances at you, just once. “What it would be like.” He sighs. “This really isn’t the time for this conversation.”
Your grip on the door handle is so tight your knuckles are white. So desperately, you want to believe he’s trying to say what you think he’s saying but you refuse to give yourself hope unless it’s real. “What conversation?”
“Okay, for the record, I did think this through,” he says, “a lot. Like, for months. This isn’t coming out of nowhere, I really did try to figure out if it’s just a passing thing because the last thing I want is for things between us to be weird because you’re my best friend and I tried to imagine my life without you and that was worse than anything, so I decided I wouldn’t ruin anything except I can’t stop thinking about–”
“Vernon.”
He pauses, turning to face you again and this time he doesn’t look away. You’ve never felt self-conscious under his gaze, not when he’s seen every awkward stage of your life and stuck with you anyways. His eyes have always been familiar to you, an oasis of comfort that you always find yourself drifting toward. But the longer he stares at you, the more you want to run away, hide from the heartbreak you see in his eyes.
“I think I like you,” he says. “No. I do. Like, as in more than a friend. God, none of these words are working.”
You stare at him. He’s saying everything you want him to say. He’s saying he likes you. Why can’t you move?
Vernon runs a hand through his hair, and sighs. “Like I said, I don’t want to ruin things between us, you're still my best friend first. But I’m also sure about how I feel and I don’t want to keep it from you any longer. I can’t stay in this limbo of holding onto something that doesn’t exist, so, I’m really sorry.”
“Sorry?” You repeat, frowning. “Why are you sorry?”
“Because… I like you. And that ruins… this.” He gestures between you and him and that’s when you finally realize that he doesn’t know.
“You dumbass,” you say, “I like you, too.”
Vernon frowns, mouth hanging open a little, and you have to wonder if you looked this goofy when he was talking. Your heart swells when you realize you’re the reason for it. “You do?”
“Yes,” you say, grabbing his hand. Your cheeks ache a little, and you realize that you’re smiling wider than you ever have before. You’ve never been this happy, not when you graduated high school, not when you and Vernon found out you got into the same college, not when you got a perfect score on that notoriously impossible chemistry final. “Vernon, I am an idiot that always thought you didn’t feel the way I did so I did everything I could to hide it. But I like you, I really, really do, and I’m sorry I never let it show.” There’s another word for how you feel, but you aren’t quite brave enough to use it yet, even if it’s what you really mean to say.
Vernon leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “We really are dumb, huh?”
“I can already hear Jihoon’s gloating.”
“He’s been nagging you too?” Vernon groans softly but the smile never leaves his lips. “He’s going to be insufferable.”
You’ve grown used to silences with Vernon. Sometimes they are painful, like when he tells a joke and only you laugh. Usually they’re peaceful, comfortable silences that can only exist between two people that have nothing left to say but stay together anyways. But this silence is heavy, a weight on your shoulders pushing you to do something, move closer. You’ve known him your whole life but this is foreign territory.
His breath kisses your lips again and this time you have the bravery to lean forward, just a little. His lips are soft, bottom lip chapped a little more than the top but it is warm and it feels like a first and thousandth at the same time, like unlocking the door to a house you know you’ll spend the rest of your life in. Your mind floats farther and farther away, in some place of impossible happiness that can’t quite believe that this is real.
A soft cry from somewhere to your left brings you back to earth. You pull away at the same time he does, glancing at the backseat. Right. The kittens. You glance at Vernon, whose mouth is still a little open, eyes wide and flustered. It makes you want to kiss him all over again but you settle for laughing.
“I guess we should go inside,” he says, leaning away from you though he doesn’t turn his back yet.
“We should get them settled,” you say, glancing at the carrier again.
Vernon nods, opening his door and grabbing the heavy box, pausing by the entrance to the building to wait for you to grab the carrier. Silence falls again as you ride the elevator up but you’re more than familiar with it.
It doesn’t take long to settle Pinky and the kittens, not when Vernon already had a room set up for them. He figures there’s been enough stress for the day and they should get some peace and space to relax, so you stretch out on the couch, taking your usual corner. Vernon sits next to you, the inch of space separating you feeling like a mile.
Vernon glances at you, chewing on his lip before asking, “You’ll stay?”
“Always.”
The grin that splits his face has you swooning all over again, so when he throws an arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side, your brain fully stops functioning. You have to will thoughts into existence, which is silly because it’s Vernon and he’s done this a million times. But when you tuck your head onto his shoulder and he kisses the top of this head, you know everything is different. And exactly how you want it.
“You’re definitely going to adopt Fried,” you say.
His laughter bounces you. “No way.”
“It’s Fried or Muffin. You can’t handle their cuteness, I saw you baby talking at them.”
“I'll stay strong.”
“What if I want a kitten?”
Vernon doesn’t hesitate. “Egg is pretty cute.”
“Sucker.”
“Only for you.”
thank you for reading <3
#🌟 stars galaxy#seventeen#seventeen x reader#svt reader#svt#seventeen fluff#vernon x reader#chwe hansol#vernon#vernon fluff#seventeen fic#seventeen fanfic#svt fic#svt fanfic#vernon fic#vernon fanfic#reader x vernon#svt vernon#seventeen vernon#vernon seventeen#vernon svt#svt x reader#svt fluff
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grrrr idk if ur reqs are open but???? if they are??? could u do a svt member (tbh any but preferably coups or seungkwan cuz i miss them rn) where theyre like travellinf thru a huge crowd or smthn and gets so anxious they just?? shut down? and like what does member do next
crowd
author’s note. HIYA ROXIE!! thank u for the req <3 sorry you had to wait so long tho…. i hope u like it bc i feel like it kinda sucks LMAOSJWK but i miss them tho esp coups :((( aaaanyways. here u go lovely!!
ALSOOO IM BACK BABY! back n alive, so be ready to be spoiled <3
warnings. yn shuts down, crowds but like idk???, anxiety (?), suggestive at the end :|
“um, y/n i don’t have good news” seungcheol said anxiously, looking up from his phone.
you were about just to leave the restaurant where you had an amazing time in your date. tilting your head, you sent him a confused look.
“there’s um… a big crowd. in front of the restaurant. my manager just texted me. someone found out we’re here and just… you know, saesangs and some carats i think” he said, reaching out to grab your hand and squeeze it gently.
“oh”
when it was revealed that you and seungcheol was dating, it was huge. he got lots of hate, you too. obviously, the real and caring carats were happy and cheering for you. but, ironically enough, those who were hateful were usually the ones camping whenever you went out. to take pictures…
“yeah, um. let’s just go, okay? i bet kkuma misses us” you smiled and slowly stood up, grabbing your purse “is it that bad?”
“nothing worse than airports” he said and stood up too, grabbing your hand “squeeze my hand if something happens. i’ll text the manager to get the car ready”
your heart thumped in your chest. you were scared because well, he was famous. ‘what ifs…’ bubbled up in your head when suddenly seungcheol kissed you gently. melting into the kiss, he pulled you closer by your waist. leaning back, there was a mischievous glint in his eye. before you could ask, cheol received a text that the car’s ready.
“squeeze my hand, remember?” he repeated and you nodded.
you walked out and froze. the crowd was huge, cameras flashing the second you stepped out of the venue. seungcheol looked at you, getting pale.
“hey, it’s okay. look, there are guards” cheol leaned in and pointed at the bodyguards. you just nodded, feeling like the people were about to swallow you. maybe he was used to it, as an idol. but this… this was the first time for you.
“let’s go. the faster the better” he hummed. when he was about to go, you stood there frozen. seungcheol felt your hands trembling, chest moving up and down irregularly. he tightened his jaw, a kind of anger in his veins.
“hey, y/n. look at me” he stood in front of you, shifting his hands and cupping your face. the people were yelling something. your eyes were distant, mouth parted as if someone took your breath away. you slowly moved the (color) irises to look into his eyes. you were frightened.
seungcheol swallowed and pecked a quick kiss at the top of your head before quickly taking off his blazer. he put it over your head, sending you a small smile.
“trust me, okay? let’s just go. hold onto me and don’t look at them” he leaned in and grabbed your hand.
nodding slowly, chest feeling as if crushed by an anvil, you started following him on wobbly legs. shouts and yells got louder as you two pushed through the crowd. you were squeezing his hand, normally you’d be scared to hurt him but it was kind of subconscious.
seungcheol was pissed, anyone could tell. the bodyguards were a big help but if he had to, he’d push the people himself.
in no time you found yourself inside the car, the guard that was behind you closing the door. you stated at the tinted window in awe.
“you can stop squishing my hand now, pretty” seungcheol laughed lightly. you gasped and let go, turning your head to him. he chuckled at your reaction and grabbed some water that was in the car, handing it to you “are you okay? did you get hurt?”
“n-no. i’m fine” you nodded, still taken aback. the car started moving as you took a sip of water. you looked at cheol’s profile, jaw still clenched and brows furrowed.
“i’ll make sure to make a proper comment on that on weverse” he grunted, catching your worried gaze. as you put the water away, he grabbed your hand. the boyish smile bloomed on his face once again “the food was delicious, hm?”
“oh yeah! it’s a shame they didn’t have desserts though” you pouted, interlocking your fingers with his. seungcheol put his your hands on your thigh, leaning his head back against the headrest.
“mhm, we can have some dessert at home” he hummed with a smirk and you smacked his arm. so that was what the look in his eyes at the restaurant was about.
[ masterlist <3 ]
taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang ,, @nfrgirl ,, @crxzs
#svt x reader#svt#svt scenarios#svt imagines#svt reader#svt x y/n#svt x you#svt reactions#svt fluff#svt comfort#svt seungcheol#svt scoups#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol x reader#seventeen seungcheol#choi seungcheol#seungcheol scenarios#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol x you#scoups fluff#scoups#blue jisungs’s requests
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"What if the building collapses?"
photo credits: @honey-com!
established relationship, fluff;
warning: sorry for any typos, unfortunately i'm not fluent in english :(
The raindrops hit your apartment window hard, the sky is dark and you can hear the sound of thunder and a strong gale outside.
Frightened by the chaotic scenery of the storm, you hide under the covers while you try to calm down. Living on the 23rd floor doesn't sound so nice when it's raining!
"Honey, is everything all right?" Your boyfriend says worriedly as he tries to pull the sheets away from your face.
"It's too embarrassing to talk about it, I'm fine." You try to pull the sheets back to hide the blush on your cheeks.
"Embarrassing?" He laughs. "Baby, we've been dating for so long! You don't have to be ashamed to say things, I'd never make fun of you."
"I'm scared of the rain." You mutter in a low voice as you look away from the television in front of you. "I'm scared of the thunder, this windstorm could bring the building down!"
Jihoon laughs affectionately as he pulls you into his lap, pressing you into a tight embrace. You sigh softly as you feel the comfort of your boyfriend's strong, well-defined body, snuggling your face into the curve of his neck.
"I think the fear of rain was an excuse to get hugs." He murmurs quietly as he plays with his hair.
"But it was you who hugged me first." You feign a false expression of fury as you turn away to look directly at him. "And on second thought, I'm not worried about this building falling down, you're too strong."
"Am I too strong?" He frowns in doubt. "I don't understand."
"You're very strong, I'm sure you can hold this building up before it falls to the ground." You say seductively as you run your nails over your defined biceps.
Jihoon laughs warmly as a blush appears on her face, you find the scene very cute and your heart races, your boyfriend is the cutest being there is!
"Are you going to start obsessing about my arms again?" He says, pulling himself together and wiping away the tears that welled up in his eyes from laughing.
"First of all, the obsession isn't about your arms, it's about you." You pull your boyfriend to lie down, resting your head on his arm. "And that's not an obsession, it's admiration! Look how comfortable you are to hold." Squeezing him tightly in your arms, you look at a smiling Jihoon who gazes lovingly into your eyes.
"Baby, you're so strange." He says as he circles your body with his strong arms to pull you into an embrace.
"That's so good!" You sigh in contentment. "I love having a big boyfriend, I do!"
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen reactions#seventeen oneshot#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#woozi#svt reader#woozi x reader#seventeen woozi#woozi smut#woozi imagines#woozi scenarios#woozi fluff#svt woozi
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✰ 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐄 ✰
✰ non idol! yoon jeonghan x fem! reader & non idol! hong jisoo x oc
✰ genre: fluff, humor, slight e2l between reader & jeonghan
✰ warnings: none besides jeonghan & reader being childish
✰ word count: 4.05k
“come on rina, you can’t keep crying face down, you’re gonna suffocate yourself..” you said, looking toward your best friend’s stiff body on the couch. “maybe i want to suffocate myself, at least then i wouldn’t be sad.” she mumbled into the couch cushion.
“yeah cause you’d be dead rin.” “exactly my point y/n.” you rolled your eyes at her reply and moved to pull her upwards. “rin, it’s okay to be upset, but at least be upset and ya know.. alive.”
she huffed, face red and stained with tears. “it’s just not fair, we broke up almost two days ago.. why am i still crying about it? like yeah i’m upset, but i’m sick of crying. the tears just keep on coming out though.” i mean it was two days ago.. it’s normal to still be upset.”
“but you weren’t! i mean come on, you came home and went “jaewoo and i broke up”, ate a 4 for 4 from wendy’s, cussed out rose while watching the titanic, and then you were all good again.”
you laughed and rolled your eyes again, “ugh rose that bitch. there was definitely enough room for her and jack to fit, but that’s different rin. jaewoo and i’s breakup was pretty mutual, besides i saw it coming. not to be rude but.. hyunjae’s bitch ass sprung that on you like “surprise we’re done motherfucker!” it’s totally okay to take a bit of time being upset.”
rin shrugged, “i guess, but can you at least try to help cheer me up some more? please?” she finally smiled. “well i do have something that might be able to cheer you up.” you said, tapping your chin with your finger.
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
“joshua i will actually beat your ass if you sigh one more damn time.” jeonghan yelled at his best friend.. for the sixth time that morning. “but jeonghan! how could she just say “okay” when i confessed my entire heart’s feelings and asked her to break up? it’s not like i wanted her to burst out crying and plead to stay with me, but i mean come on, at least act upset that we’re ending something that lasted for eight months and three days.” joshua whined. his clothes were rumbled, and hair was crazy on his head. it was obvious, he wasn’t doing too hot.
“i’m gonna ignore that you were keeping track of how long you two were together to that extent… honestly surprised you don’t know the hours and minutes at this point-“ “oh i do, but i figured i would just keep it short.” joshua pointed out.
“oh. gee thanks…” he spoke, sarcasm laced throughout his voice. “anyways forget about her shua, there’s better people out there. how about we go to the store, i know the perfect thing to cheer you up!” a sly smile appeared onto his face. “last time you said that it was just to make me buy you dinner!”
“i promise it’s not like that! i heard that building legos is a great way to get your mind off of a breakup; i even heard it on a podcast!” the truth was: jeonghan wanted a new lego set, but what joshua didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“so… you’re saying… that building this “ship in a bottle” lego set is gonna be the cure-all for my breakup with hyunjae..? yeahhhh i don’t think so.” rin said as she stared at you with a straight face as you went “tada!” to show her the beautiful (your words) lego set right before her eyes.
“rin come on! it’s the perfect way to cure your sadness. you won’t even have a chance to think about hyunjae while building it because you’ll be too focused. i even heard it in a podcast i listened to recently. plus… i may or may not have wanted a new lego set… but that’s besides the point!”, you pleaded.
rin smacked her head with her hand. “you just wanted the damn lego set anyways and tried to make it seem like it’ll actually help, but go ahead and buy the thing y/n. i’m going to the dairy section to buy some stuff for dinner tonight. rin sighed as she wondered how she was possibly more mature than the supposed “mother” of their duo.
“oh i know that look, i’m still more mature than you are. go get the cheese. you’re acting like you can even cook anyways, i’m the one who’s gonna be making dinner. go on, go.”
rin walked towards the end of the aisle, but not before yelling “yeah you’re the mature one.. says the one hugging a box of legos. you smiled towards her and removed one of your hands to kindly stick up your middle finger. rin stuck hers up, copying you as she finally left the aisle.
“i knew it. just pick out the lego set you want you kid, i’m going to buy ingredients for dinner tonight. the younger sighed exasperatedly.
“i can help with dinner while we work on the legos! the older man winked. “absolutely not, last time i asked you to help, you forgot to put water in the ramyeon and we had to throw away my favorite pot,” joshua quickly reprimanded.
“whatever, the pot was ugly anyways. i mean it looked like my grandma’s wallpaper from the 60’s… but if you need me, i’ll be here choosing our fun for the night!” jeonghan winked teasingly at his best friend. “yeah yeah whatever.” joshua said as he walked away.
jeonghan was in his element, an infinite world (aisle) of legos. but, with all of the options, how was he to choose which one he wanted to build that night? of course, he checked his notes app for his wishlist of lego sets!
jeonghan opened his phone and checked his wishlist for the lego set he would hunt for. as he scrolled, his eyes were caught on the “ship in a bottle” lego set that he had added a few weeks ago. that was it, he just had to have that one.
the male searched high and low for the lego set. to any regular person passing by, jeonghan looked like a determined parent looking for his kid’s christmas gift… or the kid himself. point is, he was a determined man and he was absolutely going to find that lego set.
minutes go by as the man tried his hardest to find the lego set, until he realized… he had a whole other aisle he hadn’t checked yet! it had to be on that aisle. if it wasn’t, the store was definitely going to receive a lengthy letter about how their lego section lacked necessary inventory.
it felt like a scene from a movie. jeonghan quickly made his way to the next lego aisle and quickly began to search diligently. then the scene played out. as jeonghan searched high and low for this damn lego set and still couldn’t find it, he happened to hear a high pitched squeal which prompted him to turn to where the noise came from.
when he turned, he saw a girl, a really pretty girl, but then he looked down at what she was holding… his “ship in the bottle” lego set. this meant war, and also a grown man acting like a complete child. but he was no match for you in that department when it came to legos.
“you mean to tell me that i’ve spent 11 minutes searching like my life depended on it for that lego set and it’s been in your crabby hands this entire time!?” the male exclaimed as he had grabbed the box and began to tug on it.
“my crabby hands? what are you, a four year old? i had my hands on it first, it’s my lego set. go find a new one, and let go!”
“i’m not letting go until you give it to me.” the man said as he tightened his grip on the box. “then i guess we’re gonna be here a while because i’m not letting go either.” you spoke as you squinted your eyes at the man in irritation. who would’ve thought that two 20+ year olds were standing in the middle of a toy aisle fighting over a box of plastic pieces. thinking about your current situation made you wonder what rina was up to.
rina stared at the vast array of dairy products deciding on which ones she needed for the pasta dish that you had promised to make her. she had gotten carried away daydreaming about a cute guy sweeping her off of her feet in the dairy section. preferably one that was cuter than hyunjae. scanning her options, she finally locked eyes on the specific type of cheese that you wanted and reached out for it, the last one.
like a daydream come true, another hand simultaneously reached out for the same cheese. rina turned and locked eyes with a guy that was definitely cuter than hyunjae.
joshua stared at the girl across from him, who held onto the cheese that he needed for dinner tonight. “you don’t happen to really need the cheese do you? it’s just that.. my friend promised to make me dinner tonight to cheer me up since my boyfriend just broke up with me. and she claims this is the only cheese that can be used in her recipe and listen, her chicken alfredo is the best thing in the world and i’ve been really craving it, plus don’t you think the chef would know what’s best- wait you probably didn’t want to know all of that. i’m sorry, but can’t you just let me have the cheese please..? i promise that if we ever accidentally grab the same thing again, i’ll let you have it” the pretty girl pleaded as her eyes grew wider, probably thinking about the food her friend promised.
joshua couldn’t do anything besides laugh at the pretty girl as he took his hand off of the cheese. “no no i totally get what you’re saying. i’m going through a breakup too, but unlike your friend, i’m stuck cooking for myself while my best friend is in the lego aisle like a little kid.”
“really? sorry to hear that. but i can’t help but laugh about your friend in the lego aisle because so is my friend. she claims that she listened to a podcast about how legos “supposedly cure sadness” and insisted on it, stupid right?” the girl smiled, even her smile was pretty.
the boy laughed and mentioned how his best friend had said the exact same thing. rina couldn’t help but notice that the “definitely-cuter-than-hyunjae-guy” had a really nice laugh.
the cute boy spoke again, “but really, you take the cheese, i’m sure one of these other cheeses will suffice for my dinner tonight,” reaching for the cheese to hand to her.
rina kindly accepted. “well.. my friend always tells me that i trust people too easily. it’s probably the reason my last boyfriend was so terrible, but you and your friend could come over for dinner. that way you guys would still get to eat the dinner you wanted. i think it would be nice, as long as you’re not some secret murderer. i just finished watching “somebody” and “unlocked” and i’m honestly really not ready to be murdered so.. like i’m sad, but not that sad.”
the short haired man laughed again. “well i wouldn’t mind, but we should at least ask your friend. we should probably learn each other’s names and exchange numbers as well. who’s to say that you’re not a really pretty murderer yourself?”
“ah you do have a point. well i’m rina, nice to meet you.” she spoke as she stuck out her hand for him to shake.
“i’m joshua, nice to meet you too. let’s go and see if we can find our friends”
when rina and joshua walked to the lego aisle, they weren’t expecting to see their two best friends arguing about a lego box in the middle of the aisle. luckily for all of their dignities, no one else was in the aisle as a witness.
the two youngest of the group, not that you’d be able to tell at that moment, ran to snatch the lego set from in between their hands. rina grabbed your arm and pulled you a bit further to ask, “y/n! what’s going on?”
“this dude came over here claiming that i stole his lego when you clearly saw me holding it before you left to get ingredients. and then he grabbed onto it and i don’t care how old i am, he was not just going to take my legos from me!” you exclaimed.
rina just blinked. it was all she could do besides laugh at how elementary you sounded. her and joshua were in a similar boat.
“alright alright, what’s going on with you and the girl man?” “shua i spent what felt like days searching for that exact lego set, all for it to be in her evil hands!” jeonghan spoke, perhaps a little too loudly as you had overheard what he said. rina had to grab your arm to keep you from pummeling the man.
joshua just stared and wondered how this could’ve happened, he didn’t even think he was gone for that long. but being quick minded, he spoke up. “i have an idea, rina and i were both looking for ingredients and we realized that there was only one block of the cheese we both needed left. so she proposed that my friend- this is jeonghan and i’m joshua by the way- come to dinner since i gave her the block of cheese. rina and i are fine with it, but we came to ask if you two were okay with it.”
“no offense but what if you or jeonghan is a murderer? you had stressed jeonghan’s name in the sentence to show that you were definitely talking about him.
“me a murderer, all i wanted was my lego set, who’s to say that you’re not the murderer, ms. lego stealer?” jeonghan argued as he pointed his judgy finger towards your face.
rina intervened before another argument between you two broke out while you quietly mumbled in the background that your name was actually y/n. “since we decided to invite them to cook the same meal, what if we also invite them to build the same lego set. it might sound a bit weird since we all just met, but we’re all in the same situation, so i think the more the merrier!”
“dinner with the enemy, but i guess i see no problem with it. but if we’re doing this then jeonghan you can buy the lego set since it’s you and your friend coming over.” you stated. “if i’m buying it, then it’s mine but you’ve got yourself a deal y/n.” the long, browned haired man spoke as he stuck out his hand to shake your crabby one. now that you could stop and take a good look at him without yelling curse words, you noticed that he was actually extremely good looking.
after shaking hands, you looked over for a bit and noticed your friend and the other guy, who you learned was named joshua, talking and laughing with one another. he was definitely an upgrade from her last boyfriend and though it was definitely way too soon, you approved.
after exchanging numbers and checking out, the boys followed you and rina back to your apartment as it was almost time for dinner already.
walking inside of your shared apartment, you quietly thanked yourself for having cleaned the apartment out of boredom the day prior. you and joshua began to unload the groceries you both bought as rina showed jeonghan to the living room where he quickly got to work on his lego set as she played some background music on the tv.
though you and joshua didn’t get to talk much in the store, as you both cooked, you were quick to take a liking to the man. he was exceptionally nice, very good looking, a great cook, and he shared similar interests with you. but as you cooked, your eyes kept shifting to the man hunched over a kajillion plastic pieces splayed across your living room table. as infuriating as he was, you had to admit that he was the most attractive looking enemy person you’ve ever seen. and you hate to admit that some of the things he said as you all finished up in the store did have you chuckling quietly to yourself.
rina felt the same way you did. she figured that she might as well try out this lego set that you and jeonghan were so adamant about, but she quickly realized that legos just weren’t for her and she was rapidly losing focus. but was she actually losing focus because the legos bored her, or because she couldn’t take her eyes off of the gorgeous man cooking pasta in her kitchen.
“you should ask to help them out.” a voice spoke softly from beside her. rina quickly whipped her head toward the long haired man and raised her eyebrows in question. jeonghan took his eyes off of the legos, looked up at her and smiled, “you’ve been staring at him since we got back here. you should try and get closer to him by helping him cook. it’s just an idea.”
“but i can’t cook…” she answered. “well you can’t be worse than me, so just give it a shot. besides i’ll let you in on a secret… i want to hang out with your friend in there, but she’s busy. if you take her place, then it’ll be a win-win for us both rina.” the man smiled as he looked up at you in the kitchen cooking calmly. he could tell that you were in your element.
rina quickly sprung up and mentioned how she “totally shipped you two together” before she walked into the kitchen to ask if she could take your place. but only because she knew you really wanted to do the legos, totally not because she was trying to score herself a new man and maybe one for you too, nope not that.
you didn’t hesitate to give her your stirring spoon as you dashed to the legos on the table, leaving the youngest two in the kitchen laughing to one another about how they totally shipped you and jeonghan’s little “enemies to lovers” situation.
you and jeonghan fell into a groove while building the ship in a bottle. turns out that the two of you shared more in common than you both initially realized. and maybe wasn’t the most terrible person to be sitting on the floor building a toy with.
“they so have a thing for one another. every other minute it’s either jeonghan staring at y/n or vice versa.” rina said as she tugged on joshua’s shirt to stop what he was doing and look at their two friends. “yeah they’re cute together.” the man spoke back gently. “here, now it’s time to grate the cheese into the pot, want me to help you do it, rina?”
something told you to raise your head and look into the kitchen. you saw joshua standing behind rina as he helped her grate cheese into a pot. it was so cliché, it was cute. you smacked jeonghan upside the head gently for him to look in the same direction.
“we’ve all only just met, but i think they work well together. joshua just broke up with his now ex-girlfriend and i knew her for like eight months and to be honest, i still wasn’t sure about her all those months in. but, i’ve got a better feeling about rina than i had with her.” the older male spoke and he fondly looked at the two youngest in the kitchen.
you turned back to face the man, making eye contact before you started, “yeah rina just got broken up with by her lame ass ex, hyunjae and i actually could not stand that random. he was never a good person, but rin liked him and wouldn’t listen, so i just sucked it up.” you sighed to catch your breath before continuing. “but.. as i was in the kitchen chatting to joshua while we cooked, i thought that he could be good for her whenever they were ready to try dating someone again.”
“what about you, y/n? do you have a special someone?” jeonghan asked as he rested his head on his hand, elbow on the table. “ha, no. i just broke it off with my ex-boyfriend a few months ago, but if someone were to just magically enter my life, i guess i wouldn’t mind.” you said, shrugging as you continued to build the toy. the boy next to you agreed quietly as you both fell back into a rhythm.
time passes and later, the best words that could ever leave a person’s mouth are spoken: dinner’s ready!
even though rina couldn’t boil water, her and joshua made a good pair together since the whole apartment smelled heavenly… and was still intact. and shockingly enough, you and jeonghan had just snapped the last piece together, high fiving one another as you awed at your shared (he decided it was no longer just his) masterpiece.
“rin i’m so proud of you, this tastes so good. and josh, i think we’re gonna have to officially become best friends and have more hangouts, because this is the best pasta i’ve ever eaten. i thought i made a good alfredo, but you definitely win the gold medal for sure, cause gahdamn this is good!” you spoke, expressing your love for the carbs. honestly the three of them were surprised that you said that so clearly as your mouth was stuffed to the brim with pasta and garlic bread.
“i’ve got to agree with her, shua this is great. but, let’s give a round of applause for y/n and i for building our lego set. isn’t the ship in the bottle so cool!” jeonghan stopped eating just to pick up the lego set and make “ooh-ahh” faces while posing with it.
all of you laughed as rin had a realization, “you said our, have you decided to share it?” “yes we have, y/n is no longer my enemy and resident lego stealer. i’m even leaving it over here as a token of our new found friendship.” the long haired male put down the ship and placed his hand over his heart to show how sincere he was being.
joshua leaned over to whisper into his ear, “oh hush, you’re probably only leaving it over here as an excuse to keep coming over to visit.” jeonghan shushed him and pushed him away, trying to quietly refute what his best friend was saying, which in fact was the stone cold truth. he really did just want to keep coming over to see you and maybe his lego set while he was there.
“if i visit, then you get to tag along and see rina too so follow along with my plan you dick.” jeonghan whispered back.
you and rina nodded to one another before she said, “we don’t have a problem with you guys visiting again!” “especially if josh is gonna make food again!” you added.
the other three couldn’t contain their laughter again and josh pointed out that “no, next time we come over you and jeonghan have to cook. i’ve heard you’re quite good, but jeonghan here can’t even turn the stove on, so good luck!” the younger man joked, to which his best friend smacked him upside his head with his lego set. “zip it,” he sneered. you laughed again, “challenge accepted.”
you four all resumed eating as music softly played in the background. you turned to rina, simultaneously as jeonghan turned to joshua and you both whispered quietly,
“who would’ve thought that we’d meet two pretty girls in the lego aisle?”
“who would’ve guessed that we would both meet two cute guys in the lego aisle?”
✰ hey… totally didn’t plan to somehow spread out all of my fics (whopping total of three 🤪😲) on this blog by 3 months 😭😭 guess u could think of it as a random gift for whoever stumbles upon here every couple of months ig.. 🧍🏽♀️
✰ anyways, thanks for reading !!
✰ no stealing!!!! (especially cause idek how i pulled 4.05k words out of my ass…)
✰ likes, reblogs, & constructive criticism is appreciated <3
#seventeen x reader#jeonghan#jeonghan x reader#seventeen#seventeen jeonghan#seventeen yoon jeonghan#seventeen joshua#seventeen jisoo#seventeen hong jisoo#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#joshua#joshua x oc#seventeen humor#svt fanfic#svt oneshot#seventeen oneshot#svt reader#svt#svt x y/n#svt ff#svt fluff#kpop x y/n#kpop x female reader#kpop x reader#svt x female reader#seventeen x female reader#kpop imagines#seventeen imagines#kpop fanfic
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Enough for today...
pairing; jeon wonwoo x gn reader
genre; fluff
warnings; mentions food, stress
request; no
a/n; written for my wifey @multi-kpop-fanfics, love you bb
Your hands pull through your hair as you lean over your desk, Wonwoo could almost feel the stress radiating off of you. He knew how hard you had been working every day, but especially today. He had done his best to just let you do what you needed to do but every once in a while you glanced up and saw him beside you when a new glass of water or a snack would be placed next to your work.
Now Wonwoo leaned against the door frame as he looked over your slumped shoulders, the tension evident in your posture. Moving over to you, he leaned down making you gasp into a small sigh when he pressed a kiss to your temple. “It’s late.” You hum out a sound of acknowledgement to his words but you make no attempt to move or to put down your pen. Wonwoo smiles against your skin rolling his eyes before he reaches to take it out of your hand gently making you groan.
“Wonwoo…I have so much to do.” You look up at him as he shakes his head when he turns your chair before reaching up to take your chin in his thumb and forefinger running them along your soft skin. “No, you are done for the day. You can start again tomorrow but you’ve done enough today. I’m tired of watching your back all day long, I want to look at your pretty face.”
You roll your eyes making Wonwoo laugh as he brushes his finger along your cheek. “That was cheesy.” He smiles and shrugs before moving a hand to take yours tugging you up from the chair so he can pull you into his arms wrapping one around your waist so he can guide you towards the couch. “Mm, speaking of cheese. I ordered food and I have a movie for us to watch.”
Narrowing your eyes you let him release you as you plop down on the couch as he moves towards the kitchen only to come back with take out boxes opening them up to show you lamb gyros, covered in feta and tzatziki sauce. “Did I do good?” You can’t help but to smile and give him a small shoulder shrug as he puts the boxes on the table and moves to sit beside you pulling you closer as he turns on the tv starting a movie.
The smell of the food, his gentle hold on you, and the soft sounds of a movie all comforting you making you forget, at least for now, the stress of your day. Wonwoo glances at you and grins when he finds you looking at him before he leans to kiss you softly. “I love you.” Your words mutter against his lips, Wonwoo’s fingers hold at your side as he hums against your lips before nodding. “I love you too baby.”
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#wonwoo fluff#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#wonwoo x reader#seventeen x reader#svt reader#wonwoo imagines#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#wonwoo#seventeen#svt
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Shall We?
gn reader x chan
summary: having a crush on your best friend made everything more complicated. would you be able to tell him how you felt, or will you be stuck in this limbo forever?
genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, university au, sports au, non idol au
warnings: none, inaccurate soccer, both main characters are dumb?
wc: 6.3k
a/n: this is the first story I’m posting!!! it was really a gift for a friend but I enjoyed it a lot so hopefully y’all do too! thank you for reading :) i wrote it in first person bc second is kinda awk for me
title: Shall We? - CHEN
I wasn’t the type to have crushes. I could count on one hand the number of people I’d ever admitted to having a crush on, and three of them were fictional characters. It wasn’t that I didn’t find people attractive - there were plenty of people in that category. Crushes just didn’t come easily.
That was why I couldn’t decide how to deal with the big fat crush I had on our school’s star forward, Lee Chan. I wasn’t used to having butterflies when I talked to him, losing focus in class, wondering what he was doing, dropping my phone when he posted (his second ever picture on Instagram) what could only be labeled as a thirst trap.
The worst part was that he was my best friend. I’d known him since kindergarten where I ironically swore to hate him for ruining my art project. I couldn’t escape these feelings, no matter how recently they’d come upon me. I glared at Seungkwan, who sat next to me on the sofa. It wasn’t fair that the athletes got better dorms when all they did was kick some balls around, but I stopped complaining out loud when I realized I had enough friends that lived in the athlete dorms that I could stay in their rooms (with actual bathrooms!) as much as I wanted.
“First of all, you’ve been in love with him at least since freshman year,” Seungkwan said. “That’s being generous, actually, it was probably middle school. I can’t be sure it wasn’t elementary school. Maybe it was love at first sight, actually, no, I take it back, you guys are probably soulmates.”
“Are you finished yet?”
Seungkwan laughed. “All I’m saying is that I have been saying that you have been in love with him for years.”
“But I haven’t!” I punched his arm when he scoffed. “I’m serious! These feelings are new and weird and I don’t like them, and Chan is one of my best friends- actually, he is my best friend because you’re being annoying.”
“I take offense to that.”
“Good, you were meant to,” I said. “Now shut up and let me rant. I really like him, Seungkwan, I can’t even think about him without my stomach getting butterflies. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed how weird I am around him, and just can’t imagine my life without him in it.” I buried my face into a pillow. “Why does my stupid heart ruin everything?”
Seungkwan patted me on the back. “Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”
“I have been friends with Chan my entire life,” I said, raising myself from the cushion. “I think it’s worth being dramatic over.”
“What if it were me? And we were fighting and you were worried we would never be friends again?”
“Ew, gross,” I said automatically. “No offense, but I’d be glad to be rid of you.”
“First of all, you can’t say no offense and expect it to cancel out the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me. Also, I don’t believe you at all; who else have you told about your little crush?”
“No one,” I mumbled.
“That’s what I thought.” Seungkwan sounded smug. “Now, I’m going to assume confessing is out of the question?”
“Don’t even joke about it,” I hugged the pillow against my chest.
Seungkwan whipped his phone out, snapping a picture. “Sorry, I’ve literally never seen you this vulnerable, and I’m going to need blackmail at some point.”
“You are the worst, I gave you the best blackmail in the world, do you really need a picture, too?”
“Oh, yn, I can never have enough blackmail.” Not for the first time, I was scared of Seungkwan.
“Can’t you just give me advice?” I asked. “Weren’t you known for being the love doctor or whatever in high school?”
“First of all, I was not called the love doctor, that sounds weird, please never call me that again,” Seungkwan said. “And it was a lot easier to give advice to people that weren’t both my friends. I think I have to be Switzerland on this one.”
“You’re worthless,” I said, sliding onto the floor.
“Wow, I was just about to offer you food as compensation,” Seungkwan sighed.
“Did I ever tell you that you are my best friend in the entire world?”
Having a newly realized crush on your best friend apparently doesn’t excuse you from going to all of his games, no matter how strangely nervous it made you. Normally I came early to say hi during warmups (a tradition that began during the preseason because Chan forgot something every other day, but spending so much time with two teammates meant that I got to know pretty much the entire team). The thought of trying to act like everything was fine in front of the entire team, including Seungkwan, who would undoubtedly tease me, made me sick, so I texted Chan, telling him I needed to do homework but would be there in time for the game.
It technically wasn’t a lie, but all I did was I sit in my dorm, staring at the door, watching the seconds pass by one at a time. I wondered if he would even notice if I wasn’t there.
“Don’t you have to go?” My roommate asked. “The game starts in like five minutes.”
When I didn’t answer, she said, “You’re usually at every game like half an hour early. Is everything okay?”
I shrugged. “I’m that predictable?”
She smiled. “Did you and Chan fight?”
“No, nothing like that!” I paused. “Wait, why did you ask about Chan?”
“You’re going to be late,” she said, turning back to her desk.
I was torn between questioning exactly why she thought something happened between me and Chan or going to the game. I decided going to the game would at least involve less conflict.
I had to sprint to the stadium so that I wasn’t late, for once grateful Chan made me train with him every once in a while. Luckily it was one of the regulars checking tickets, and they waved me in as soon as they saw me sprinting.
I made it to the fence line just as they finished announcing the lineup for the opposing team. I didn’t need his number to pick him out, at the far end of the field, swaying back and forth a little, tapping the toe of his left cleat to the ground and sliding his foot forward until it was flat on the turf, then doing the same with his right. I couldn’t see him clearly from this far away, but I still knew his eyes were closed, and he was taking a slow deep breath, the same routine he’d performed since he first started playing soccer.
I’d seen him in his uniform since the beginning, but in the last few days, something had changed about the way he looks, as if I was only just now noticing the toned muscles in his arms, the way the uniform was loose yet still showed off shoulders that I knew from experience were firm and perfectly fit for my head. How many times had I rested my head on those shoulders without feeling a thing? Why was everything different now?
They were halfway down the lineup when he turned to the crowd. I watched him as his head turned slightly, scanning the stands, then lowering his chin and looking along the fence line. I could see the moment his eyes passed over me, fully expecting him to continue looking at the crowd. Instead, he stopped, holding my gaze despite the fact that I could barely see him. I froze when he smiled and lifted his hand in a tiny wave, forcing myself to wave back.
I was a grinning idiot, even when he forgot to pay attention to his own name and Vernon had to push him forward when his name was announced. He hastily waved towards the crowd, though I could have sworn his eyes were still on me.
The team went into a quick huddle, whispering among each other for a few seconds, then chanting the school mascot until the entire crowd took it up and the noise was deafening. I had always been curious about what they said in those huddles and finally remembered to ask a few weeks ago.
“Usually it’s just, like, ‘let’s get this done,’ or repeating something coach said about the other team,” he said. “But every once in a while it’s something dumb.”
“Like what?”
“Like jokes and bets between us,” he said, taking a sudden interest in the forks at the restaurant. We had gone out to eat after they lost their first game of the season.
“What was it today?”
He shrugged, shoving the food on his plate around. “Nothing interesting.”
As soon as the referee blew the whistle everyone was moving. It might look like chaos, but I’d seen enough soccer to know that it was an organized dance, how, much like all sports, there were patterns that were followed. My eyes followed Chan as he jogged ahead, waiting for someone to pass him the ball. Our team had taken control of the ball first, one of the seniors, Joshua, dodging around their defense before passing the ball across the field to Jun, the left forward.
Chan was in a good spot to score, the defense mostly focused on Jun, all he had to do was get the ball to him. I could feel the tension building, not just on the field, but in the crowd, as Jun dodged them again and again, then suddenly kicked the ball straight across the field. It looked like the ball wasn’t going anywhere, sliding across the fake grass without anyone from either team to stop it. And then Chan was there. Even I had lost him while watching Jun and the ball. He seemed to have come out of nowhere, kicking the ball as hard as he could before any of the defenders could react, sending it soaring up, the goalie reaching in vain, the ball soaring just over his hands and into the top corner of the goal.
The crowd erupted into cheers, myself the loudest of them all. Chan sprinted back to the home side of the field, grinning like an idiot. He ran past where I stood on the fence line and I could have sworn he winked at me. The rest of the team half tackled him as if he’d scored the game winning goal, chanting, “Dino! Dino! Dino!”
I frowned. Where had they learned that? As far as I knew, I was the only one to ever call him that. I supposed it wasn’t a big deal that other people called him by that name, but it still felt strange. I didn’t like that something that was ours was suddenly shared.
The referee blew his whistle and they finally reorganized themselves. Scoring a goal so early on could be dangerous, encouraging them to relax and let their defenses down. As they spread out on the field, I didn’t notice any of that. Chan was focused from the second the referee blew his whistle and the game play started again. I glanced at the team, and they all seemed equally intense.
I tried to think of why they were so focused. Were they playing a rival? The other team was good and a win would count toward their conference ranking, but it wasn’t anyone I thought warranted this level of focus. Maybe they were still upset that they lost the game last week, though they’d swept the tournament they played this past weekend.
The rest of the first half was uneventful, neither team able to score. Chan and Minghao, another forward, both came close but the balls were stopped by the other team’s goalie. Jihoon, our own goalie, only had to stop one ball. Everything else was stopped by what we affectionately called the Great Wall. Mingyu and Seungcheol were the main defenders, and were famous in our region for rarely letting a ball through our defense.
After the quick break, the teams returned to the field, switching sides. Now Chan would be closer to my side, running most of the offense almost in front of me. As soon as the whistle was blown he was moving, running right past me. I was probably imagining the smell of his detergent as he passed me by.
About half an hour in, I thought they might be able to score, but Chan lost the ball to one of their defenders and it was sent halfway across the field to their midfielders. Seungcheol and Mingyu did a good job, but even they weren’t quite able to stop the other team from pushing them down the field, closer to our goal. I held my breath as their forward got a good kick on the ball.
People tended to underestimate our goalie because he was pretty short. They didn’t know how quickly Jihoon could move, how good he was at anticipating where the ball would be kicked. I wondered if he was consciously aware of what he was seeing or if it was all instinct now. He made snagging the ball out of the air look easy, hanging on to it until the outfielders were back on the other side of the field.
Chan passed by me again as Jihoon threw the ball across the field, staying just in front of the defenders. They passed the ball around, not able to get past the defense, but also not giving up possession. Five minutes passed, then ten, and still neither team scored. We were still up by one, but as the time ticked down, the other team grew more desperate.
At 4 minutes and 47 seconds, they pushed through the defense. One of their forwards swung his foot back to kick the ball but turned slightly at the last second, slamming his foot into Mingyu’s shin. The taller boy dropped to the ground, but no whistle was blown, and the forward got a shot off. Jihoon couldn’t quite get to the ball and it just barely made it in.
1-1
While Seungcheol, the captain, and the coach shouted at the referee at the blatant foul that wasn’t called, the rest of the team regrouped. Mingyu had gotten up after a couple seconds, and from where I was looking he looked fine, though clearly mad. The referee gave Seungcheol a yellow card and he finally backed down, and our coach called a time out.
The crowd began the usual chants, though there was more passion after the horrible calls. When I was in the stands, I was normally screaming along with them, sometimes even leading them. I didn’t have any energy tonight to join in.
The time out wasn’t nearly long enough to cool them down. I could tell by the way they stalked back out onto the field that most of them were still mad, and I couldn’t blame them. The second the referee blew the whistle they were on the attack, sending the ball down the field recklessly fast. Chan was moving better than I’d ever seen before, anticipating where the defense would be and dodging before they even moved into position. The ball was passed to him quickly, though he immediately shot it off to one of the midfielders.
The lower the time got, the more desperate each team was. We somehow still held control of the ball for two full minutes, still unable to get a shot off.
At 2 minutes and 13 seconds, Chan had the ball again. He was moving like everyone else was stuck in quicksand, dodging the defenders and driving a path towards the goal. I could feel that he was going to get past them, going to score, and then he found and opening, swinging his foot back and-
And he got slammed to the ground by one of their defenders. This time the referee couldn’t ignore it, blowing his whistle. I was pretty sure there was about to be a fight, but I couldn’t look away from Chan, who was still on the ground. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat as I waited for him to get up, for him to move. He was only a few feet away from me. The idiotic part of me wanted to hop the fence and jump onto the field but what would I do? Yell at him until he woke up?
His back was to me and the longer he went without moving the more scared I got. Had he hit his head? Was something broken? I desperately wanted him to do something to at least show he was still alive.
Jun and Minghao, the other forwards, got to him first, kneeling next to him until the trainer finally reached him. I was vaguely aware of Mingyu and Seungkwan holding Seungcheol back as he yelled at the other team, but I couldn’t look away from Chan. From my angle, I could only see him reach his arm out, but I felt like I could finally breathe again. He was alive, at least.
The trainer spoke to him for a minute or two, then apparently decided he could be moved. Jun and Minghao helped him up and half carried him off the field, setting him on the table the trainer had set up to treat the athletes. It was foolish, but all I wanted to do was run over there, to see with my own eyes that he was okay.
After another time out, this time by the other team, the game started again. I couldn’t pay attention to anything, only watching Chan from across the field as the trainer made him go through yet more exercises, finally gesturing for him to follow her to the athletics building. I tried to decide if that was a good thing or not. It meant that he was well enough to walk on his own, but what did she need in the building? Did he need specialized treatment?
I had given up on paying attention to the match. The second half ended with the score still tied but all I could think of was Chan, suffering alone.
“Screw it,” I muttered. I pushed off the fence, walking towards the building with long strides. I’d been there more than a few times with Chan while we were hanging out before practice, sometimes wandering the building but often while he got treatment in the trainer’s office. Sometimes it felt like I was around Chan so much that I might as well be a part of the team.
I knew exactly where the office was. A week ago I wouldn’t have been nervous making this trip. I probably wouldn’t have left the stands at such an intense match, though I might have been a little worried. Everything had changed so quickly. I could feel adrenaline coursing through my veins as if I had been the one on the field playing.
I got to the trainer’s office and froze. Normally I would walk in without a thought to it, but I was suddenly not sure of anything. What if he just wanted to be alone? Or what if he didn’t want me there?
I decided I would at least rather see that he was alive. I knocked once then opened the door.
“Yn,” the trainer said with a warm smile. She’d been so happy when I told her I was interested in athletic medicine, inviting me to come with Chan whenever I wanted. The whole summer she’d been hinting at a relationship between me and Chan, despite both of our protests.
I waved, looking for Chan. He was laying on one of the tables on his stomach shirtless, wires hooked up to something on his back covered by ice packs, his eyes closed, looking like he was asleep.
“Is he okay?” I asked softly.
“Oh he’s fine,” she answered. “And he’s not sleeping, I don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling.” His eyes flicked open and he glared at her.
“Well, I need to see if anyone else decided to get hurt while you get pampered,” she said. “I’ll be back in like five minutes, so just don’t die.” Chan gave her a thumbs up and she was gone.
I pulled a chair next to his table, leaning against the side. Chan’s arm only a few inches away from mine.
“Did we win?” He asked before I had a chance to say anything.
“That’s seriously all you want to know? You’re not even going to tell me if you’re okay?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Fine,” I said, “I have no idea, it went into overtime so I came here.” He was silent. “Are you okay?“ I asked again.
He let out a dramatic sigh. “I got the wind knocked the fuck out of me. Seriously, I’ve been hit before but that hurt. You need to check my chest for shoulder marks later.”
My cheeks flushed at the thought of being in front of him while he was shirtless, and I was happy his face was pressed into the leather cushion. I’d seen him shirtless plenty of times, but thinking about it now…
“What’s this?” I asked, brushing my fingers lightly on the wires, trying not to think about brushing them against the bare skin of his back.
“Stim,” he said. “My back was sore from getting knocked into the ground by that asshole and I just thought it would feel nice.” He turned his head at an awkward angle so that he could look at me. I could only meet his gaze for a few seconds before I looked away.
“Do you think it’s over yet?” He asked, breaking the silence that lasted for nearly a minute.
“You could have gotten seriously hurt and you’re still more worried about the game? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”
“Hey I am concussion free!” Chan said. “She did the test and everything. I just- I want to know if we won or not! It’s important that we don’t lose to assholes that body slam people!”
He was right, but I had known Chan for too long. He was lying.
“Besides, since when have you been worried about me?” He turned so that he could see me. “When I almost broke my wrist two years ago you said you would rather die than miss the end of the game.”
“That was playoffs!”
“We were up by four goals!”
I opened my mouth to argue back, but he was right. I was different now. I just didn’t have the guts to tell him why.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I’m not always the best friend to you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Chan said immediately, brushing his hand against mine. He looked so uncomfortable trying to face me while laying flat on his stomach. I slipped out of the chair, sitting on the floor in front of the table so that he could look straight at me, trying not to think about how he almost held on to my hand.
We stayed like that for a moment, Chan staring into my eyes and me staring right back. In the end I couldn’t take his gaze, looking down at the tile floor and realizing the pattern was really fascinating, even if it was clearly from 1990.
“I’m sorry,” Chan said. “I’m not upset about something from two years ago. I just… I want to tell you something but I don’t know if it’s right and they said I should do it when it’s right but I have no idea what that means, and then they said that maybe it wouldn’t ever be right, so I just… I don’t know.”
I could feel all of my courage crumbling as I looked back at him, dark eyes filled with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. I felt like he could see right through me.
“Chan…” I said. “You’re my best friend. I’ve known you for so long I don’t think I know who I am without you, and I think that’s what really scares me. You’re like this weird carrot that’s grown next to my carrot and we’ve coiled around each other and they exist on their own as separate carrots, but if they aren’t together, it just looks lonely.”
I peeked at Chan and he was frowning. Not my best metaphor. “I’m trying to say that I don’t like who I am without you. You mean everything to me.”
“You mean a lot to me, too,” he said slowly.
I groaned. “You’re not getting it! I’m trying to tell you that I like you, Chan!”
He quiet for a moment. “Yn, did you just confess to me while I’m laying on a table after being knocked out?”
“When you put it like that…” I stared at my hands. So that’s what I felt like to ruin everything.
“Yn.”
I wondered if I could successfully vanish, maybe start a new life raising sheep in Mongolia.
“Hey,” Chan said, reaching his hand out to brush against my cheek. “You’re an idiot.”
“I feel so much better,” I said, burying my face in my hands. “Thank you for that.”
“Please look me in the eyes for this,” Chan said. As much as I wanted to dig a hole and rot away in it, I couldn’t deny him this, especially not when he was using such a gentle yet firm tone. I forced myself to meet his eyes, finding comfort in the familiarity, even if I knew everything had changed and it was my fault.
“I have been trying to tell you I like you for months and you do it in pretty much the least romantic way possible,” he said. “Seriously, there are electrical impulses being shot down my back.”
“I take it back, I feel nothing,” I said, standing up.
He laughed, that stupid, infectious laugh that never failed to make me smile, reaching out and catching my hand. “Can you give me like five seconds to at least be sitting upright?”
I nodded, still facing the door so that he couldn’t see my smile.
“I might need some help, actually,” Chan said after a moment. “This stuff is kinda stuck to my back.”
I turned to him, taking in the situation. He’d gotten the ice packs off but the pads for stim were stuck to his back. This wasn’t the first time I’d helped him with stim, in fact I’d done it for half the team (albeit usually on their knees or shoulders). Helping Chan now, my cheeks were probably bright red, fingers tingling every time they brushed against his skin. The four pads came off easily and I stuck them back onto the plastic they normally were stuck to, turning off the machine and putting everything back where it should be. When I turned around, Chan was sitting up rolling his shoulders back. If my face wasn’t already a tomato it was now. Chan laughed as I looked anywhere but at him.
“You’re not going to check for shoulder marks?” He asked. He was probably batting his eyes and pretending to be innocent.
I glanced him over, trying hard to force my eyes past his bare chest, then tossed his shirt at him. “Shoulder mark free.”
“Are you sure, because you didn’t look very hard and-”
“Oh my god, Chan, just put on the shirt!”
He laughed, pulling it over his head. “You’re so easy to tease.” He caught my hands when I tried to step away again, gently tugging on them so that I was facing him while he still sat on the table.
“Yn,” he said softly, running his thumbs over my knuckles. “I had a whole plan of how I was going to tell you how I felt. We’d go to that cafe, or sometimes I planned it for the library, and once I even planned to try to tell you on the field. None of them worked because every time I saw you I couldn't figure out a way to get the words in my heart out so that you could hear them.” He held my gaze and I knew he wasn’t lying. I hadn’t lasted a week with these feelings. How had Chan been able to stand it?
“I really, really like you,” Chan said. “And I-”
The door was slammed open and all of a sudden the room was filled with noise. I let go of one of his hands as half the team came streaming in. With the hand he still held, Chan pulled me closer to him until I was shoulder to shoulder with him, lacing his fingers with mine.
“Chan you’re alive!” Seokmin shouted.
“Yeah I was going to go to the light but I remembered you guys are hopeless without me.”
“Hopeless?” Soonyoung laughed. “Just for that I’m not telling you who won.”
“I don’t think that matters anymore,” Jeonghan said, gesturing to me and Chan.
“Hey!” Seokmin shouted. “That’s cheating!”
“What’s going on?” I whispered in Chan’s ear.
“I’ll explain later,” he whispered back, then said to everyone, “I appreciate your concern for my love life, but seriously, did we win or not?”
Seungcheol leaned against the counter with a smug smile. “You think we’d let a team like that win?”
Chan grinned, turning to me. I hoped he couldn’t hear how loud my heart was beating when he turned his gaze on me like that. “Yn, will you go on a date with me?”
I forgot about the team who were hollering around us, forgot about the game, forgot about everything except me and Chan. “Of course.”
Chan only let go of my hand once as we walked back to the apartment, and it was only to let me put on his sweatshirt. As soon as I pulled my arms through the sleeves, his hand was back in mine. It should have felt weird to be this intimate after a lifetime of friendship. It felt like we should have been like this from the beginning.
“You’re sure you feel the same way?“ Chan asked.
“If you ask me one more time I’m going to change my mind,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I had resigned myself to being your b-f ‘best friend,’ not b-f ‘boyfriend.’”
“First of all, Seungkwan is my best friend,” I said.
“Um, wrong, I’ve known you for longer.”
“That’s not the point but I have a feeling you’re going to win this one so I’m just going to give up now.” I turned to look him in the eyes. “But seriously, how long have you liked me? And don’t you dare say from the moment I met you or some bullshit because I know that’s not true.”
“No, I’m not that dramatic. I think the moment I realized it was at graduation.” He smiled at the memory, pausing on the sidewalk.
“Do you remember how we went straight from the ceremony to the beach and that first night we stayed up all night talking about the future and we watched the sunrise over the water?” He waited for my nod. “I remember listening to you talk about your life plans and realizing how lucky I am to know you, and then realizing that I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.
“Do you know how magical you looked watching the sunrise? I know it’s the cheesiest line ever, but you really were prettier than the sunrise and ever since then I haven’t been able to think of anyone but you.” Chan smiled and my heart felt like it was going to explode. I leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, then suddenly felt shy, turning and continuing to walk. Chan didn’t move until I was tugging on his hand.
“Your turn,” he said after a few moments passed and the heat in my cheeks had finally died down. “When did you realize?”
“Last week,” I said. “Right before you left for the tournament you asked for a kiss goodbye, and I thought it was just a joke but then I spent all weekend thinking about your lips and about how that’s definitely not best friend thoughts, and then I started thinking about you and then I realized that for everything in my life I go to you, and you are the only person in the world who knows how to make me smile when I am having a horrible day, and you don’t complain when I’m being mean or grumpy, and you are the only person I could ever see myself spending the rest of my life with.
“I know it’s not as romantic as watching the sunrise with you and maybe you think these five days aren’t long enough to feel anything as strong as you, but, Chan, I swear I know my heart and you are the only one in it, and the only one that will ever be in it.” It was terrifying to say these things out loud, but I turned to Chan and he had the biggest smile on his face.
He stepped closer to me until there were only a few inches between us, bringing one hand to my cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He asked so softly I almost didn’t hear it.
I nodded, closing my eyes as he leaned closer, nose brushing against mine, and it was not a gentle kiss like mine had been. His hand slid to the back of my head, the other one finally letting go and slipping to hold my waist. I wrapped my own arms around his neck, pulling him as close as I could.
Chan pulled away first, though his arms stayed wrapped around me. “Feedback?”
I laughed, burying my head in his chest. ‘Feedback’ was always for class presentations, or how I thought he did in his last game. “Only if you tell me why your team calls you Dino.”
I disentangled myself from his arms, lacing our fingers back together and beginning to walk again.
“You better not be mad about that because it’s your fault,” he said, catching up to me easily. “Seokmin and Soonyoung saw you spamming me with those dinosaur stickers while we were at an away game and I had to explain to them that you made the nickname when we were six and already a cruel monster.”
“It’s not my fault you cried unless you brought your stuffie to school with you.”
“Don’t you dare tell them that part!” He said. “They’ll never let it go, it’s bad enough I have Seungkwan holding it over me.”
I laughed. “You haven’t explained what was going on in the training room either, by the way.”
“Right.” I glanced at him and he avoided my eyes.
“What is it?”
“It’s embarrassing,” he whined.
“More embarrassing than getting dumped fifteen minutes after the relationship started?”
“You wouldn’t,” Chan said and he was right, but it still worked because he let out a dramatic sigh and kept walking. “Do you remember last week after we lost and we went out to eat and you asked me about what we say in the pregame huddles?” He waited until I nodded to continue. “Well, apparently my crush was obvious to everyone other than you and Seokmin and Soonyoung specifically were determined to ‘help’ me confess so they thought it would be funny to say ‘when we win Chan has to tell yn how he feels,’ but then we lost and someone said that maybe we just weren’t meant to be and it was a joke, but I’ve been overthinking it since then.
“Then today, Seungcheol said it, and I think it was supposed to be a joke but everyone took it really seriously and I don’t know, I really felt like if we didn’t win today then maybe we really wouldn’t ever work out.
“But then you showed up and confessed to me in the least romantic way possible and I realized how dumb I was,” Chan said, grinning.
“You’re kind of an idiot,” I said.
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he said, leaning into me.
“You’re ridiculous.” I tried unsuccessfully to hide my smile.
He snuck closer, pressing a kiss to my cheek, then wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer to him. I couldn’t think of any more insults to throw at him, so I leaned into him.
“So, are you going to give me feedback on my kissing or not?”
“I’m not sure, I think I need to try again before forming an opinion.”
Chan laughed, turning to face me with a smile that could break hearts. “You better pay attention this time.” He kissed me and I was floating.
When I finally pushed back, he raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“Two out of ten, honestly, I’m disappointed, I thought you could do better than this,” I said, pushing his arms off of me before I could react and sprinting away.
“Hey!” He shouted. “I’m still handicapped! I got knocked out today!” Despite his protests, he caught up to me easily, wrapping his arms around me from behind, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“Want to try again?”
“Hm, nope,” I said, giggling when he wrapped his arms even tighter.
“You are so lucky I love you,” he said, pressing another kiss on my cheek. I wondered if he noticed that he let the word slip. I settled my hands on his arms, holding him to me just as tightly as he was. There was a gentle breeze in the air, the streetlights warm and cozy, and I decided I would spend the rest of my life like this, me and Chan, together.
#stars galaxy#seventeen#seventeen x reader#svt#svt x reader#dino#lee chan#dino x reader#lee chan x reader#fluff#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#svt reader#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen fanfic#soccer boys!#chan x reader
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