#seventeen s.coups

[slytherinshua]

CHERRY BOWS

genre. fluff. cheol as a dad. warnings. toddler/parent stuff. cheol gets jelly. pairing. husband!scoups x wife!reader. wc. 1k. request. request by @blue-jisungs: you asked for soft hours n i shall give!! it’s been in my mind for a hot while actually but i’m too busy rn to do it myself… and you’re the perfect person bc U MADE ME THINK IF TJAT 🫵🫵 jealous dad seungcheol :( ofc he loves u n ur kid but give him some attention too smh >:T and requested by anon: i love your svt as dads!! they’re all so cute and i’d like to request one for cheol! a/n. i love love love dad cheol omg :( my second dad fic for him hehe <3 hes so girl dad coded and SOOOOO ADORABLE SKDJKS I LOVE HIM!!!!

“You ate without me…?” Cheol’s sleepy mumble was the first thing you heard from him. He had tiredly trudged downstairs when he had woken up and you weren’t next to him in the bed. It was already a bad start to the day when that happened, and he was frowning and pouting and generally sulking about it by the time he found you.

He wrapped his arms around you from the back, trapping you in the middle of the living room so you couldn’t continue without giving him the attention he needed. You smiled at his clinginess and deep raspy morning voice, but scoffed at how baby-like he was in the morning. Sometimes he acted even more like a child than your actual child. 

Eunha was your now 2 year old daughter. She was adored by everyone and constantly doted on. She could be a handful at times, but only because she had started to take after your bossiness and knew exactly how to appeal to Seungcheol. If she ever wanted something, all she had to do was look at them with those big boba eyes that she got from him, and he’d be folding.

He loved her more than anything. Probably even more than you, but you were okay with it. It warmed your heart how much he cared for his daughter. He’d die for her in a heartbeat without a second of hesitation. You were learning more and more every day the love a father could hold for his children. You had expected this attitude when you married him, of course. Because you knew him and you knew how caring he was. He was so filled with love for people and the world, and you were so lucky to have him.

Starting a family had always been a dream for both of you, and Eunha’s birth had been your biggest blessing. It was challenging to take care of a toddler, but you and Cheol always did your best.

Eunha was happily playing with her toy dolls after eating breakfast— the entire living room spread with her mess. It was always a constant of cleaning her toys in the evening just for her to make a new mess the next day, but you didn’t mind. It was worth it to see her so happy, and though it could be stressful to have a messy space sometimes, her happy giggles made up for it.

“Were you playing dolls with her without me as well?” Cheol asked, the pout he was wearing somehow finding its way into his tone. You giggled and he squeezed you tighter out of jealousy. He didn’t want to admit that he missed your attention being only on him, but it was true. 

You were getting up earlier to feed Eunha and play with her in the morning. The sleepy morning cuddles that Cheol looked forward to every time he fell asleep next to you were becoming rarer and rarer and he felt bitter about the change. It just wasn’t the same with Eunha. It wasn’t worse, it was definitely better in most aspects, but the free time that he had enjoyed before was being sucked away by the little child.

“She wanted me to be the doctor.” You told him, explaining the dynamics of Eunha’s favourite game. She would be the mother to her little baby doll, and either Cheol or you would usually be the doctor.

“The bed was so cold without you…” He murmured, pushing his cheek against your neck. His skin was warm against yours and you leaned into him more, savouring the feeling.

“I’m sorry. You know that Eunha likes to get up early…” You whispered.

“She should’ve woken me up instead of you. Aren’t you tired?” 

“A bit. Eating breakfast with her was nice, though. She insisted on having strawberries with her yogurt since she had seen me eat it like that once.” You smiled. Seungcheol pouted.

“I thought I was her favourite…” He was mostly joking, of course, but slightly hurt. He had always been susceptible to jealousy. Maybe he was a little too greedy— he loved watching you and Eunha spend time together, but he also hated being left out.

Your little moment of warm embrace was interrupted after 2 minutes, a giggly Eunha running up and clinging to her father’s leg. She babbled something about her doll and wanting to get ice cream later today, which you were sure Seungcheol would indulge her in. He spoiled her too much.

You were happy to see your husband’s pout lift up into the sweetest of grins. He picked up Eunha, holding her so that she was resting on his hip. He kept one arm around you; almost if you would run away and leave him if he didn’t. Which was probably partially true since you hadn’t cleaned up from breakfast yet.

“Give daddy a kiss?” Cheol asked Eunha, giggles ensuing amongst both of them. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek cutely and you smiled. Now that Seungcheol was awake as well, the two would be inseparable for the rest of the day— especially since Cheol didn’t have any work to get to.

The morning happily proceeded with a small second breakfast and playtime. Now that your husband was being included in every activity, he was all smiles and giggles. He liked being the centre of attention; you had discovered that fact throughout the years. He was the happiest man in the world when he knew he was making his daughter happy.

Her happiness always came first, even when it relied on Seungcheol’s hair being tied up in pigtails with little cherry-coloured bows because Eunha wanted to play hairdresser. You were almost envious of how cute he looked in them. It was impossible not to love everything that Cheol did.

Along with the bows came matching sweaters with a cherry pattern for father and daughter. One look at the two and you could easily declare them the two cutest human beings in the entire world.

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-redhair,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @skz-minchan-enthusiast,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @edensgardenn,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cienlvrs,, @amara-mars

#slytherinshua fics 🍰 #k-labels #caratsland #s.coups #seungcheol #svt #seventeen #svt s.coups #svt seungcheol #seventeen s.coups #seventeen seungcheol #s.coups fluff #s.coups fic #seventeen s.coups fluff #svt s.coups fluff #seventeen s.coups fic #svt s.coups fic #svt fic #svt fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seungcheol fluff #fluff #fic #fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #s.coups x reader #choi seungcheol #scoups

[jae-bummer]

Right Here With Me: The Morning After

Request: By popular demand: the morning after “Right Here With Me”

Pairing: Seventeen S.Coups x Reader

Genre: Fluff/Romance

.

Coups POV

It was quite possible that he had never hated himself more than he did in this moment. With a dry mouth, a raging headache, and his whole-body sore, he rolled towards his bedside table in search of a drink that did not contain any percentage of alcohol.

Flopping over a bit unceremoniously, he paused when he heard a soft grunt. Opening his eyes despite how loud the sun was being, he winced toward the warm body he had pushed into.

"Y/N?" he croaked. He wasn't sure if he was too quiet or if he had even said your name at all as you remained still.

Furrowing his brows (which was a huge mistake, any movement hurt) he tried to remember what exactly had happened last night. After working in the studio for a bit, the hip hop unit decided to blow off some steam at a local karaoke room. It only took a few minutes to realize that the night would be much more fun if you were there, so he sent a few mildly peer pressuring texts until you had eventually shown up.

That was where things started to get a bit fuzzy. He had drank. A lot.

Had he dedicated Drunk in Love to you?

Smacking a hand over his face and dragging it down, he let out a small groan. Surely, he didn't, but he had the worst feeling that he did.

His mind was a mismatched scrapbook of memories that didn't entirely make sense. He could slightly recall you helping him home. He remembered pulling you into bed with him. And he remembered...

Oh god.

Because you're mine. You always have been.

Smacking his palm against his forehead (and instantly regretting it) he tried not to panic. Sure, you were pretty much the light of his life, but you didn't need to know that!

But you were here... and if his warped memory was serving him correctly and he did actually say that to you...it could mean that you possibly felt at least even a little bit the same?

Or maybe you were terrified to leave him alone and risk him choking on his own vomit.

Semantics.

He was fucked. He wasn't sure what level of fucked, but he was. Every time he got drunk, he always managed to become a drooling mess when it came to you. He was much more capable of hiding it when he was sober, so obviously, he could never drink again.

...or he could just own up to how he's really felt all along.

..

Your POV

You whined quietly as you reached across the bed. Your apartment felt like it was easily subzero, and you were chasing after whatever warmth you could find. You had been warm only a second ago...

Ah, there it was. Snuggling into the side of what squishy comfort you could find; you buried your face into something that smelled vaguely of pine and alcohol.

Pine and...alcohol?

Your eyelids fluttered open, causing you to blink up at a very hungover Seungcheol who was staring at you wide eyed. You looked around slowly, quickly realizing you were in his bedroom, far from your own apartment.

"Sorry!" you gasped, beginning to untangle yourself from him.

He remained silent, watching you struggle, only to pull you back into his arms again.

"What-What are you doing?" you grumbled, pushing one hand slightly at his chest while he held firm to your wrists. "And were you watching me sleep?"

"Well," he said quietly, his voice hoarse. "When you say it like that, it makes me sound like a creep."

"Because it's a creepy thing to do!" you insisted. "Give me back my hands!"

Smirking, he tugged you closer again. Placing your arms around his torso, he moved to cuddle himself around you. "I don't think I will."

Savoring his warmth for a moment longer, you muttered into his chest. "Do you have alcohol poisoning?"

"Why?" he chuckled.

"Because I'm starting to think you've lost your mind," you hissed, leaning back to look at him. Just as before, he continued to watch you, a soft expression painting his face. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Do you remember what I said to you last night?" he asked.

You immediately went quiet and decided literally anything aside from the boy in front of you was easier to look at. "No."

"I feel like you're lying," he sighed, defeat in his tone. "But to be honest, I can't really confirm if you are or not."

"You don't remember anything you said to me?" you mumbled, feeling incredibly small. Just like usual, he was busy pouring out his heart when the drinks were flowing, but when morning came, things were back to business.

"Only bits and pieces," he admitted.

"Right," you sighed, finally easing away from him. Sure, you had cuddled plenty of times before, but right now, you didn't want to touch him. You knew this was going to happen. It was silly to think that he could ever mean the things he said to you in the dead of night.

..

Coups POV

He was fucking this up. Badly.

"Wait, wait, wait," he rushed out, pulling you to him again. "Just...wait for a second, okay?"

"What am I waiting for?" you grumbled, your face smushed against his chest.

"I just..." he trailed off, unsure of what words could even begin to convey how you made him feel. He was terrified to actually confess. What if it ruined everything? He couldn't risk losing you. Why were things so much easier last night?

"You just?" you repeated, waiting.

"I don't know," he said quietly. His hands falling limply back to rest on his sides.

"Great," you sighed.

No. Not great. He could not abort mission. Things were said last night. He wasn't even entirely sure what had been, but he knew it was enough to make this an awkward morning. He had come this far, so why not go a little further and just do the damn thing?

"I love you," he said before he could think better of it. Bringing his fingertips to his mouth, he was surprised the words had managed to fall out.

You stared at him, blinking slowly. "In what way?"

In what way. Of course you would ask in what way. You had said "I love you" dozens of times and none of them meant the same as this.

"In a..." he continued slowly. "Love way?"

"You love me in a love way," you coughed. "Brilliant, Coups."

"Y/N," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was exhausting himself, so he could only imagine how he was making you feel. "A romantic love way. I love you in a way that isn't appropriate for someone who is only your friend to feel."

You remained silent, shock painting your face.

"I love you too."

..

Your POV

"What?" Coups croaked.

You felt like your chest was on the verge of shattering. Had you admitted that? Out loud?

"I love you so much, Seungcheol," you said quietly, once again interested in looking at anything but him. "Last night...it was the first time in a while that I dared to hope that you felt the same."

"Damnit," he muttered. "I really wish I could remember what I said if it was that good."

You chuckled before shaking your head. "You called me out."

"For?"

"Being scared," you admitted. "But to be fair, it's easy to think everything will work out when you're a bottle of soju in."

"I'm not a bottle of soju in now," he smiled, tilting your face toward his. "And I'm still telling myself everything will work out."

You sighed, searching his face. "What if we mess everything up?"

"Don't you think I've thought about that?" he chuckled. "That if I screw this up, I could lose my best friend? Y/N, if we don't try, it's going to get messed up anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"I cannot pine over you for years to come," he said softly, reaching up to stroke your cheek. "Every day that I don't get to love you in the way I want kills me. I die a little inside every time I want to do something as easy as hold your hand."

"I don't want to lose you," you said quietly, already feeling the tears prickling behind your eyes. Your chest ached with the possibility of something so big changing between you.

"You will never lose me," he whispered, pressing his forehead gently against yours. "Like you ever could."

You snorted. "I'm just stuck with you then?"

"Yep," he grinned. "Let me be your bad habit. Even when you quit, you eventually find your way back."

"Mmm," you hummed. "You make addiction sound so romantic."

"It's a skill, I know," he laughed. Pulling away from you, he tilted your face to fully look at him. "We're doing this?"

"I think it's already been done," you sighed.

"Thank god."

Seungcheol's lips were immediately on yours. Every year you had been friends, every argument you had ever had, every drunken night, every almost kiss. They had all lived behind this moment and were finally coming to the surface. His mouth was searing as he tilted your jaw to get a better vantage. You clung to the front of his wrinkled t-shirt, scared to let go. You had never been kissed like this. You would be ruined for anyone else, which you knew Seungcheol was 100% aiming for. There was no anyone else. There would only be him.

He bit roughly at your bottom lip, causing you to whimper. His pained chuckle crept out in between kisses, his hands finally dropping to your waist and tugging you in as closely as he could. His words danced along your lips, "How could we have waited this long?"

He tasted like a mix of peppermint and the alcohol from the night before. How could someone who was nearly blackout drunk still taste so sweet the morning after? Your hands slid up to cup around his jaw, applying a small amount of pressure to pull the two of you apart.

Coups looked back at you with eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing," you whispered. "And I needed to take that in for a second."

His face broke into a smile before he kissed the tip of your nose. "It's been a second." And his mouth descended on yours again.

#seventeen #svt #s.coups #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seventeen s.coups #seventeen seungcheol #svt s.coups #svt seungcheol #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seungcheol x reader #s.coups x reader #coups #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol scenario #s.coups fanfic #s.coups scenario

[ihavethedreamies]

S.Coups Appreciation Post #2/??

Scoops, now in

Cherry

Flavor

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #seventeen #svt #seventeen s.coups #svt s.coups #s.coups #choi seungcheol

[februaryflowers]

cherry sugar lip scrub

order up: a honey bubble tea with cheese foam and seungcheol for anon ! 

a fluff neighbor/roommate friends to lovers

check out the (now closed) carat writers club summer fair event!

warnings: cheese perhaps, kissing, not proofread im sorry 😭

fluff, 670 words, seungcheol x reader

a/n: inspired by my own lip scrub exfoliator thing LOL 

“What’re you doing?” 

The voice makes you jump, the bathroom having been silent just before, but you smile knowing that all is well. Nothing could possibly happen to you when Seungcheol is home. 

“Y’know how it’s been dry lately?” you ask, rubbing the smooth stick in circular motions over your lips once more.

“Yeah…”

“So my lips are kinda going through it. I’m just tryna get rid of all the dead skin and stuff.”

He hums, watching as you pucker your lips in the mirror, a lump forming in his throat. So…does that mean…your lips taste…like whatever flavor that thing is in? 

Shaking his head, he tries to steel his nerves. Roommates let alone friends shouldn’t have those kinds of thoughts about other roommates, let alone friends. But he can’t help the little jump his heart does when you glance back in his direction.

“Do you wanna try it?” you ask, holding it out to him. 

“W-wha—would that be okay?” He scratches the back of his neck, his eyes trained on the other self care products you have out on the counter. “I don’t wanna intrude…”

“You could never, Cheol,” you tease, coming over to push his shoulder lightly and hand him the lip exfoliator. 

He follows you back to the spot at the sink, staring at his reflection in front of him. With you now resuming your routine, he glances at you. How did you do it? Do you just—

He starts swiping it across his mouth, the sugar crystals stuck in the wax. Even if he’s not quite sure on what he’s supposed to be doing, he knows this doesn’t feel right. Squinting at the tube, he turns it around in his hands, trying to find some instructions.

But before he can come up empty handed and sigh, you take it from his fingers. Your hands land on his shoulders and spin him around to face you, his face wide eyed and a faint pink blush starting to color his cheeks.

“Y/n—”

“Uh uh uh,” you coo, gently pushing his jaw closed. “Pout for me?”

He does as you say before you start applying the scrub in the same way you’d done a couple minutes ago. With the sweet crumbs now sitting pretty on his lips and the soft cherry scent of the wax now wafting into his nose, he closes his eyes. Is this what you taste like? Is this what it would be like to kiss you? 

He darts his tongue out to taste the balm, instantly met with the saccharine flavor of artificial cherry. But, even though you still haven’t finished, he doesn’t think his mouth has ever felt this soft before. That knowledge certainly doesn’t help his fantasies about kissing you. 

“All done!” you exclaim, pulling away to admire your handiwork as his eyes spring open. “You can rinse off the sugar. Whaddya think?”

He turns on the faucet, running water under his fingers and rubbing it against his lips. 

“S-soft,” he murmurs. 

“Right! Isn’t it nice? I can’t believe I got this for like five dollars. Such a steal.”

But before you can return to the counter and finish your self care regimen, Seungcheol tugs on your hand, turning you to face him. Opening his mouth, he quickly closes it when surprise flashes behind your eyes.

“Oh I forgot!” You rummage through the cabinet before you pull out another balm product. “You can put this on after too.” Taking off the cap, you quickly run it on your lips and hold it out to him. “Just like that. Do you wanna try?”

However his lips are on yours before you can even blink, your body frozen from his warmth being so close to you. 

“It’s good,” he whispers, pulling away to rest his forehead against you all too soon.

Exhaling, you try to steady your heart as you place the product on the counter and move your hands to his back with a few pats. “I think you should try that again.”

#cwcsummerfair #caratwritersclub #summer fair drabble requests #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seungcheol imagines #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader #s.coups imagines #s.coups scenarios #s.coups fluff #seventeen s.coups #mei's #mei.svt

[horangslay]

new Scoops selcas I'm so cool & normal rn

edit: he posted more today, I'm no longer cool or normal

#hehehe #svt #seventeen #svt s.coups #seventeen s.coups #s.coups #choi seungcheol #cherrycheolie #i...i want him... #he looks so BIG 🫣 #scoops big beefy biceps will be the death of me #FIN posts

[changbinslovelylegs]

Seventeen reaction nickname they call you

Warnings for suggestiveness otherwise enjoy, you can read my stray kids version HERE

While I imagine all the boys calling you a wide range of nicknames I was thinking if there was a name they would use most often? Used in both sexual and non-sexual settings!

Seungcheol - Honey

I feel like this so fits him like I can so picture him saying the cliché "honey I'm home" but on a less cliché note he would just say Honey in all settings, "of course honey, honey, are you ok? are you going to cum for me honey"

Jeonghan - Angel

To him you are nothing short of his Angel so of course he's going to call you that, the way you smile has him smiling. not to mention the way you squirm when "are you close angel?"

Joshua - Baby

This was the nickname that was screaming loudly at me to use for Shua. Not to mention all the ways he can say baby like when he whines it so that he can have more cuddles or cutely whispers it in the morning to ask if your awake, or use full force when he wants something in the bedroom.

Junhui - Babe

I feel like Jun isn't that big on nicknames so he likes to stick to simple ones like babe (or even just a shortened version of your name) but he always says it with love or sometimes lust.

Soonyoung - Kitten

He's such a menace so at the start would call you this to tease you until he found out how much you would blush after so he knew you really liked it, now he uses it to tease you in bed.

Wonwoo - Sweetheart

The name got the most adorable reactions when said everyday but the most sinful reactions when said in bed so Sweetheart it was plus he's always thought that name was cute and it can ground you if you ever travel too far off into subspace.

Jihoon - Princess

You will forever be Jihoon's princess and you can't change my mind, he loves all the reactions he can get from you when he says it whether it be a smile or a moan.

Seokmin - Sweetie

He's such a sweet man and your his sweet girl so it was a no brainer when choosing sweetie be prepared for the many types of sweeties the adorable and cute one vs the breathy and low moaned one for starters.

Mingyu - Babygirl or Babydoll

Alternates between the two mostly or even just doll sometimes. All he needs to do is call you over in that sultry way and you'll do whatever he asks, whether it be he just wants cuddles or something more arousing.

Minghao - Precious

You are just so precious to him so the name was fitting, you blush so hard when it's said and you squirm a lot too, wanting nothing more than for him to say it again.

Seungkwan - Kitten

He would so say this in such a cute way like "your my pretty little kitten" "why's my kitten so upset hmm?" it just falls off his tongue so easily and the way you moan so loudly when it's said in a lower tone like "stay still kitten let me play with you"

Vernon - Babe

Another member that I see not being a huge fan of nicknames, so he chose babe and he loves that you love it, even when said in the bedroom it gets you going.

Chan - Gorgeous

Chan just thinks you're so gorgeous so why not call you that? you love it and he loves it so it's a win win plus he can have you putty in his hands when said in bed.

#seventeen #seventeen reaction #reactions #nicknames #cute nicknames #seventeen s.coups #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen joshua #seventeen mingyu #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen jun #seventeen dino #seventeen woozi #seventeen vernon #seventeen the8 #seventeen hoshi #seventeen DK #seventeen seungkwan

[seventeeeeeeen]

Seungcheol: I've been feeling stressed lately, so I'm gonna light these incense sticks

*accidentally lights sparklers*

Seungcheol, much more stressed: this is actually pretty typical of me

#another day of our leader going through it #going seventeen #seventeen #seventeen incorrect quotes #incorrect seventeen quotes #kpop incorrect quotes #s.coups #seventeen s.coups #seungcheol #choi seungcheol

[bloodorangesoup]

looking for a specific fic!!

It was a wonwoo x reader x seungcheol

wonwoo has feelings for reader and one night she wonwoo and scoups have a threesome and then wonwoo gets like insecure or something and kinda ghosts her and seungcheol slaps some sense into him and is like thats my friend too and you’re making her feel like a slut cause you won’t talk to her now that yg fucked and wonwoo apologizes and confesses to her

I know that is kinda all over the place but if anyone knows which fic I’m talking about please send it my way

#seventeen smut #seventeen hard thoughts #seventeen hard hours #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #seventeen wonwoo #s.coups x reader #s.coups smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen s.coups

[wavelikewhat]

More Than A Latte

Pairing: Barista!Seungcheol x Reader (any pronouns) Summary: You have a huge crush on the handsome and flirty barista who makes you a perfect latte nearly every day. Unfortunately, it’ll probably never be anything more, right? That’s what you believe… until you see him on a night out with your friends. Wordcount: 1.7k Content notes: Reader goes to a bar and orders drinks, but no direct mention of alcohol, drinking alcohol, or drunkenness. No smut. Total fluff. Genres/themes/appearances: Fluffy and frothy like his lattes would be. Entirely inspired by this clip. Barista!Cheol in that shirt with that hair and those forearms really put a lot of thoughts into my head.

A/N: this is a mini "collab" with @seungkwansphd: please read their version of this concept called bean me up, scotty!! we both had different inspiration based on my totally normal and definitely not over the top reaction to that Barista!Cheol clip ☕️

SC - What will it be today? YN - Medium latte. SC - Perfect… and can I have a name? YN - Y/N. SC - Thanks Y/N. Your drink will be on the other end of the counter over there. 

SC - Hey! I remember you from the other day! What will you have today? YN - Hey, good morning. I'll have a medium latte. SC - Excellent choice… Remind me of your name? YN - Y/N. SC - All right Y/N, it’ll be at the end of the counter. 

SC - Hey Y/N, good morning! Medium latte? YN - You are a quick learner. SC - It helps that you order the same thing every time. Have a good one! 

YN - Hey, good morning. SC - Hey Y/N! Regular? YN - Make it with an extra shot of espresso, please. SC - I can't tell if that's a commentary on last night or this morning. YN - Let's just say both and leave it at that. 

YN - Hey, good morning. I'll have a medium latte. SC - Perfect order for a perfect day. YN - It really is beautiful out… I was thinking of taking the bus but maybe I'll walk. SC - You can't take hot coffee on the bus. Unless you're sneaky? YN - I am not very sneaky… I just drink my coffee a little faster than is probably responsible. Is that against the rules too? SC - I will be here to make your medium latte whenever you need it. Just don't take it on the bus.  YN - I promise.

SC - Hey Y/N, how was your walk yesterday? YN - It was really nice. Did you get a chance to get outside? SC - I did, you inspired me. I took the long way home. YN - Home isn't nearby? SC - I live on the other side of the river. YN - Oh, me too! SC - Really?

SC - Hey Y/N, medium latte?  YN - You are my hero. 

……………………

“Hey, good morning Y/N! I saw you across the street through the window.” Seungcheol picks up the white cup on the counter in front of him and hands it to you. “Here you go,” he says with a casual smile. Your knees threaten to give up on their one job of holding you upright.

You take the latte from him, fingertips gently brushing against his. You couldn’t have imagined the spark you felt when you touched his skin. Your fingers are probably going to tingle for the rest of the day from the memory of his touch. 

You gather your wits and look up at him. “Wow, thank you! Does everyone get this level of service?” You’re flirty, you always are. You can’t turn it off when it comes to him.

“Only you.” The corner of his mouth tilts up. He’s flirting, too.

“Do you say that to everyone?”

“Only you.” He grins wider and runs a hand through his blond hair, all while meeting your gaze.

You glance down at his name tag to break eye contact. “Seungcheol (he/him)” it says, as if you haven’t read it a thousand times before. 

His crisp white shirt is buttoned nearly all the way up to his neck, just one left undone, giving you the tiniest peek at his collarbone. His sleeves are rolled up the same way as always, showing the same few inches of forearm you stare at almost every morning.

He chuckles and draws your attention back to his face.

You still haven’t ever said his name, but he always greets you with yours. It gives you a buzz every time you hear it.

The way he says your name affects you. The way he smiles after he says your name affects you. The way his eyes light up when he sees you walk through the door… That definitely affects you.

……………………

“How did you even find out about this place?” you ask as you step out of the taxi. 

“Someone I work with was talking about it,” your friend Nina replies, adjusting her top. “I figured we might as well go somewhere new.”

“What, you don't like change?” your friend Eunchae teases as they hold the door open in front of you. 

“Haha,” you reply sarcastically, knowing full well that you're the most routine-oriented person any of your friends had ever met, even counting Nina’s dad who delivers mail—which means he goes to the same houses on the same street in the same order every single day. You can’t help it if you like routine! Spontaneity isn’t really your strong suit.

“Well, it looks pretty cool,” you say, scanning the crowd. Everyone seems to be having a good time, which is always a promising sign. It isn’t too loud, but there’s a level of excitement in the air that makes you bob your head slightly to the song spun by the DJ in a far corner of the room. Your friends lead you to the bar and you run your eyes down the length of it, seeking out the bartender with the shortest queue. 

And that's when you see him. 

Seungcheol. He's in a tight black tee (where did those muscles come from?) flashing the smile that had become a crucial part of your morning routine. As he turns his head, his blond hair sparkles in the dim bar lighting. 

Your eyes narrow at the women giggling as he hands them two colorful drinks. Who could they be? Does he know them? Why is he smiling at them?

“What do you want?” Nina asks in front of you, breaking your concentration. Thankfully, she’s caught the attention of a bartender working exactly where the three of you are standing. You make a very large mental note to avoid Seungcheol's section of the bar for the rest of the night. 

As much as you want to see Seungcheol again, because once nearly every day is definitely not enough, you have absolutely no idea what you would say if he recognized you… if he even could recognize you outside the context of the cafe. You’re dressed totally differently from how you dress for work, and your hair is different, and your makeup is different, and hopefully your entire demeanor is different because it isn’t the crack of dawn and you aren’t getting the caffeine you desperately need in order to become a human being. You have many hours of being human behind you today. 

That’s when you remember that you didn't actually see Seungcheol today. You were running late to work and you didn't have a chance to stop for coffee, so you ended up making instant coffee in the break room after you arrived. It wasn’t the same. Seungcheol’s coffee just works better.

Needless to say, you plan to do everything in your power to avoid him tonight, even though every single molecule in your body wants to be as close to him as possible… tonight, tomorrow night, and every night until the end of time. 

Your friend hands you a glass and motions you away from the bar. You’re more than happy to escape the possibility that Seungcheol might notice you (even if that's secretly what you want). You attempt to stop thinking about him for the next half hour while your friends gossip and sip their drinks. You mostly succeed, because your eyes only land on him every few minutes instead of every fifteen seconds. 

“Come help me carry the next round,” Eunchae instructs as they stand up. You casually glance at Seungcheol’s section of the bar as you follow Eunchae. There’s a huge smile on Seungcheol’s face as he pours drinks for two guys who look to be as tall as he is. He looks so painfully good in that shirt. 

When the guys turn around to walk away, they are very obvious about glancing back at him with their wide eyes and secretive grins, clearly discussing the handsome bartender who just made their drinks. As they should, you think. He deserves it. 

You shake your head, trying to get him out of your mind. “Can you see which bartender we should go to?” Eunchae asks, looking at both ends of the bar in confusion. You point to the bartender at the exact opposite end of the bar from Seungcheol. 

“He only has one person in front of him,” you explain, walking as far away from Seungcheol as possible. 

Despite your reluctance to look at a certain bartender in the building, you and your friends have an amazing time. The drinks taste great and the vibes are just right. The three of you were enjoying letting loose after a long week, and you can tell the people around you are enjoying themselves, too. 

After the three of you head out to the dance floor, Nina and Eunchae keep saying they’re looking forward to coming back and bringing your other friends along. You’re excited and horrified by this possibility. It’s always great to find a new place you and your friends all like. The problem is you don’t know if you can even get through this night without making eye contact with Seungcheol and melting on the spot. There is no way you'd be able to hide from him on another night out, or other nights if your group keeps dropping by. 

Sooner or later you’ll end up having an awkward encounter with him and you do not trust yourself to be cool in that situation. Not even a little bit. 

“Let's have one last round?” Nina suggests, and you nod. Eunchae moves toward Nina, saying they’ll help carry water to the table with the drinks if you can snag a table. You look around, enjoying the music and carefully avoiding a certain someone in a black shirt. 

When your friends come back and set all the drinks and water on the table you're at, you let yourself enjoy their company fully, appreciative of the fun night with some of your favorite people. You’re finally able to completely forget the man at the end of the bar. 

Suddenly, Nina and Eunchae both turn their heads toward you. No, not toward you: they’re looking at someone behind you. You turn back to find out what caught their interest.

“Hey Y/N,” Seungcheol says with an easy grin, the same way he always does. You can’t help but smile in return. You kick yourself for developing this specific muscle memory.

He’s looking you in the eye for the first time all night. Despite your best efforts (and you tried really hard!) it turns out he did notice you. And he didn’t just notice you, he recognized you and sought you out and said your name out loud in his way that always sends a chill down your spine.

He introduces himself briefly to Nina and Eunchae, exchanging only names and nods. Then he focuses his attention on you again.

“I’m done with my shift. Ready to go?” he asks expectantly.

Without receiving any instructions from your brain, your mouth responds. “Yes.” 

“Are you sure?” Nina asks, looking right at you. 

“I thought we could share a cab?” Seungcheol adds, still smiling, still looking at you.

“We live in the same neighborhood,” you explain, as if that’s all the explanation necessary for leaving with a hot bartender your friends have never spoken to who also somehow knows your name and where you live. You find yourself backing away from the table. Tonight your mouth and legs have made a lot of decisions without your brain’s direction.

“I’ll text you when I get home!” you promise, waving at your friends before spinning around. 

When you turn to face Seungcheol, he takes your hand and bites his bottom lip for a moment before grinning at you. “Hi Y/N,” he says.

“Hi Seungcheol,” you respond, grinning back at him.

#scoups #seventeen scoups #seventeen seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seventeen s.coups #scoups fanfic #svt #svt scoups #svt fanfic #svt fluff #svt fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #Seungcheol #wavelikewhat svt #wavelikewhat

[soulmateszedits]

S.Coups × Seventeen ᓚᘏᗢ

✧ Boyfriend Material || Requested

✧ Nako

#seventeen s.coups lockscreen #seventeen s.coups lockscreens #s.coups lockscreen #s.coups lockscreens #seventeen s.coups wallpapers #seventeen s.coups wallpaper #s.coups wallpaper #s.coups wallpapers #s.coups #seventeen s.coups #seventeen lockscreens #seventeen lockscreen #seventeen wallpapers #seventeen wallpaper #seventeen #kpop #kpop wallpaper #kpop lockscreen #kpop lockscreens #kpop wallpapers #kpop locks #kpop seventeen

[naviroo]

#🎉 𓏧 #s.coups day #happy birthday seungcheol! #we 28 🤭 #s.coups mb #s.coups moodboard #seventeen s.coups #svt s.coups #s.coups icon #s.coups aesthetic #s.coups layout #seungcheol #choi seungcheol

[slytherinshua]

[ 5:02AM ]

genre. fluff. cheol as a dad. warnings. mention of a baby (the horror 😶) and cheol abs (needs a warning) pairing. husband!seungcheol x fem!reader. wc. 324. a/n. randomly thinking abt cheol as a dad?? 😭 idk its random but hes so soft a lot of the time and it made me think abt him with babies...

“You look like such a dad,” You mumbled with a laugh, turning to your husband in the dark kitchen as he was preparing to make coffee.

“What do you mean by that?” Seungcheol asked, face scrunching up as if it was an insult, “I am literally a father. My newborn daughter is sleeping in our room as we speak.” He added as if you had forgotten. 

“I know that. Obviously you are. But you just look like it right now.” You reinstated, hugging him from the back.

“I don’t have a dad bod…?” He said as if he was questioning the fact as well. You burst out laughing at the comment.

“I only meant you waking up at 3 am with me to help me feed her, and then you waking up again at 5 to make coffee and breakfast so I didn’t have to… It makes you feel like a proper father.” You slipped your hand underneath his shirt, feeling the very obvious and defined abs, “And of course you don’t have a dad bod, you work out almost daily.” 

He shook his head, laughing at your conclusion and pressing start on the coffee machine. He turned around to you, hugging you closer. You reached up to brush some of his hair away from his eyes. It was growing longer again, black locks a mess from sleeping and waking up constantly.

“Should I say that you look like such a mom then?”

“That is unnecessary, but a very big compliment.” You smiled, breaking the hug to allow Seungcheol to start making breakfast. You poured yourself coffee as he did, watching from the side and keeping a good eye on the baby monitor as well. You were always paranoid that you wouldn’t hear her cries when she woke up. You and Seungcheol were trying your best to be the best parents you could, but there were a lot of challenges with raising a newborn.

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-bluehair,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @skz-minchan-enthusiast

#slytherinshua fics 🍰 #s.coups #seungcheol #svt #seventeen #svt s.coups #svt seungcheol #seventeen s.coups #seventeen seungcheol #s.coups fluff #s.coups fic #seventeen s.coups fluff #svt s.coups fluff #seventeen s.coups fic #svt s.coups fic #svt fic #svt fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #timestamps #svt timestamps #s.coups timestamps #seungcheol fluff #fluff #fic #fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #s.coups x reader #choi seungcheol

[jae-bummer]

Best Sleepover Ever

Request: heyaaa!!! welcome backkkk!! ^^ i saw your prompt list and no 4 "you look good in my clothes" really caught my attention... like you can NOT tell me cheol wouldnt say that to you... like imagine having a sleepover w/ him or smth and you wear his hoodie/shirt and when he sees you he'd be like that....

Prompt:

4) "You look good in my clothes."

Pairing: Seventeen S.Coups x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"I feel like a kid again," you grinned, looking up at your partner. "I haven't had an actual sleepover in years."

"Lucky you," Seungcheol smiled in return as he fiddled around with the wires connecting his gaming console to the television in his room. "I get to have one almost every night."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to make me jealous," you laughed.

"Oh yeah," Seungcheol responded, giving a small roll of his eyes. "I'm really living the dream having multiple men in my bed almost every night."

"Hey, you are living someone's dream," you pointed out.

"Fulfilling them too," he chuckled, finally giving up on the chords and scratching his head. "Maybe I should cut my losses and just put this back into the living area."

"Probably for the best," you nodded. "There's no telling who would launch an attack when they realize it's missing."

"Probably Wonwoo," Coups sighed. "And it's the absolute worst being on his bad side."

"Didn't realize he had one," you hmphed.

"I'm not sure if you're commenting on his cool nature, or complimenting his appearance," he said with a side-eye. "Either way, I'm choosing not to know."

You huffed out a laugh. Like you could ever be complimenting someone else's appearance when you had a whole Seungcheol standing in front of you.

"Anyway," he continued. "I'll move this back. You can change into your pajamas."

You winced as you looked down at your jeans. "I may or may not have forgotten to bring any."

"While sleeping in the nude does sound incredibly appealing, hanging out in it is probably not recommended," your boyfriend sighed. "People don't know how to knock around here."

"I can run home and grab something?"

"And walk alone when it's already dark? Absolutely not. Just grab something out of my closet."

"You're the boss," you smiled as he began to leave the room.

"About time somebody noticed."

Closing the door behind him, you were left alone. You spun toward the curtain that was currently Seungcheol's closet door and yanked it aside. It wasn't as messy as you had originally thought it would be, but it definitely had a controlled chaos vibe. It wasn't quite time to call in Mingyu and his organizational cubes, but it was getting close.

Tossing aside some clothes that you weren't entirely sure were clean, you found a stack of t-shirts. It took a few more minutes to dig out a pair of shorts with an elastic waistband. You weren't sure how Seungcheol's clothing would fit on you, but drawstrings were always promising.

Tugging off your clothing, you slid into the ridiculously oversized shirt you had selected. You quickly pulled on the shorts as well and noticed how short they were in comparison to the shirt. Turning toward the wall mirror, you covered your mouth before laughing. If someone didn't know any better, it looked like you were Winnie the Pooh-ing it.

"You look good in my clothes," Coups' choked voice sounded from the doorway. You looked up into the mirror's reflection and caught sight of him eying you.

"What?" you asked, startled by his silent appearance.

Clearing his throat, he entered the room, and closed the door promptly behind him. Leaning back onto the frame, he tilted his head upward. "You look good in my clothes."

"Looks like there is in fact a knocking problem in this dorm," you smirked, turning and taking a few steps toward him. "What if I wasn't dressed yet?"

"It doesn't really look like you're completely dressed now," he chimed.

Yanking up your shirt, you tried to swallow your laugh as Seungcheol's face went from shocked to amused.

"There are pants under there after all!" he grinned.

"Against your wishes I'm sure," you said quietly.

"Am I disappointed? Maybe," he chuckled, closing the distance between the two of you. "Am I a problem solver? Absolutely."

"And what problem is there to solve?"

"How to eliminate your clothing in the fewest number of tugs," he grinned, pulling you by the waist to the edge of his bed.

Plopping on the mattress, he situated himself before pulling you to sit down on his lap. Wrapping his arms even tighter from behind, you giggled as he leaned back.

"You're so goofy," you wailed as he wiggled you around.

"Not the wording I was hoping for," he laughed, finally allowing you to lay on your back. Scooting in close, he lay on his side beside you, his arms wrapped protectively around your middle.

"And what were you hoping for?" you asked, quirking a brow. "You're so amazing? You're-"

"Wildly sexy and incredibly appealing," he finished. His smile was huge in your periphery, causing you to take a mental picture of this moment. He was such a beautiful human.

"Do I really have to say those things aloud for them to be true?"

"I mean, a little positive affirmation never hurt anybody," he whispered, nuzzling his face into your neck. "For instance, you are gorgeous, and I'd love to -"

"Cuddle me into oblivion?"

"Oh yeah," he huffed. "Definitely what I was going to say."

"Thought so," you grinned.

Kissing lightly along the side of your neck, Coups lifted his hand to tilt your chin away from his face. Getting better vantage of your skin, these new kisses began to send shivers across your body. Letting out a giggle as he reached the dreaded ticklish spot, you attempted to scoot away from him, but he held on tight.

"Nope, there's no escaping me," he said, clearly amused. "I am inevitable."

"Coups in his supervillain arc," you laughed. "I'm into it."

Smirking, he detached himself from you, only to climb on top of your legs and straddle your waist. Blinking up at him in surprise, you watched him carefully as he assessed you from this new view.

He looked at you reverently, but also with a tinge of hunger. Like something he knew he should protect, while simultaneously considering if he should devour.

"Forget what I said earlier," you breathed. "This is not the type of sleepover I remember."

"I mean, we can have a pillow fight?" Coups croaked, his voice suddenly like gravel. "Feel free at any time to braid my hair."

You were rendered silent by his tone alone, feeling it deep in your core and all the way to your toes. Moving carefully, Coups leaned forward, sliding across the blankets on either side of your body until he encased you. His forearms rested on either side of your head, your faces now only inches apart from each other.

Licking his lips, his eyes roamed your face as if he was trying to permanently keep the image of you printed across his irises. "Thank you for staying over tonight."

"You don't have to thank me," you said quietly. "I want to be here just as much as you want me to be here."

"Impossible," he said, shaking his head slightly.

"Well, maybe not," you smirked. "I'm not the one using my body as a human prison to keep my partner in bed with me."

"Should i move?" he asked, furrowing his brows. "Are you comfortable?"

"Coups," you whispered, reaching up to run your hands through the strands of hair falling across his forehead. "You are the comfiest."

"Good," he smiled slowly. Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Pulling only a few centimeters away, he studied you again. Seeming to find whatever he was looking for, he leaned forward again, slowly licking your bottom lip. Your mouth popped open while your brain entered a daze. His tongue swept across yours, something sweet dominating the taste.

It was in that moment that you decided you could kiss Seungcheol forever. Your lips seemed to melt together as you moved in tandem, enjoying him every bit as he was enjoying you.

After only seconds, he pulled away slightly. He furrowed his brow at the same time he bit his lip.

It should be you biting that lip.

"What is it?" you asked breathlessly.

"I should probably lock the door."

#s.coups #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #cheol #svt cheol #svt seungcheol #svt s.coups #svt #seventeen #seventeen s.coups #seventeen seungcheol #s.coups x reader #s.coups fluff #s.coups scenarios #s.coups imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #s.coups fanfic #seventeen fluff

[ihavethedreamies]

S.Coups Appreciation Post #4/??

I might have cried-

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #seventeen #svt #seventeen s.coups #svt s.coups #choi seungcheol #s.coups

[blossom-hwa]

taking care | c.sc

this is a repost of my taehyun fic from a couple months ago. it is incredibly fitting that I post this again because I’ve been sick off my head for several weeks now. please pray for me and mc </3

Pairing: Seungcheol x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, slice of life!au, sick fic, editor!seungcheol, writer!reader

Triggers: cursing, mentions of medication (prescribed), panic attacks are mentioned once but no one actually has one

Word Count: 12.6k

When Seungcheol goes missing from work, you hunt him down to his apartment where you find him sick. Attempts to take care of him ensue. It doesn’t all go as expected.

Taehyun (TXT) Ver. | Seventeen Masterlist 

It is two am on a Friday morning when you finally emerge from your little den of sadness and misery to actually attempt to be somewhat of a functional human being.

(The little voice in the back of your head that sounds annoyingly like Soonyoung reminds you that no one is ever able to actually function at two am like a normal human being, and the fact that you are only able to attempt functionality at this hour speaks to something deeply, deeply wrong with your sleep schedule and mental psyche. You swat it away.)

Switching on a light, you blink into the brightness. For a moment it feels like your eyes are burning. Sometime over the past five days, you became a vampire, probably. Minus the bites and fangs and sexy undead creatures.

Wait.

Five days?

You pat your pockets for your phone, which does not seem to be on you. Ah. Yes. You often shove it away when you're in gremlin writer mode so that the bright light won't distract you from your empty word documents. Shuffling back into your study, you flip on the light there too and start throwing things around.

“Beautiful,” you mutter, finally dragging the device out from under a pile of scribbled-on papers. “Please turn on, please turn on—”

It turns on. Bless, so it isn't dead. Squinting at the tiny screen, you check the date and time. Two oh seven in the morning on Friday, November seventeenth.

(The tiny rational voice in your brain that sometimes sounds like Jeonghan and sometimes sounds like Seungcheol reminds you that you could have easily checked your still open laptop for the date and time instead of rooting around for your own. You swat it away, too.)

Hm. So it has been five days. That's... interesting. And mildly concerning. Not because of your fucked up sleep schedule which isn't even a sleep schedule at this point, but because this means Seungcheol is off schedule. And by that you mean he didn't show up on the third day of your writer gremlin-induced madness to bring you coffee.

It happens like clockwork. You get sucked in by a deadline, ergo you go MIA. You ignore all texts and messages for two days, ergo Seungcheol deduces you have spiraled into deadline induced writer gremlin madness. Coffee is the only thing that sustains you on a day to day basis, ergo Seungcheol shows up at your apartment on day three, your favorite coffee in hand and not the bitter unsweetened shit you make yourself at home, and forces you to take a nap while he cooks.

It's a neat little syllogism. Or something. You don't quite remember the names of all the literary devices your writing teachers tried to shove into your head in high school. It all became irrelevant anyway in college when you could have arguments with your professors over the merits of the Oxford comma (it has many merits, but sometimes you just like to be contrary and your professors grew to know this very well). But now the syllogism has been broken because it's been five days since you sank into your little black hole of word documents and black coffee and Seungcheol has not shown up once.

Ergo, concerning.

Your fingers have pulled up Seungcheol's contact before you realize what you're doing at this time of the night—well, morning. You cannot call Seungcheol right now. He's most definitely asleep because he's an actual functioning human being who goes to the gym, eats semi healthy food, and has a sleep schedule. And also happens to be ridiculously good at editing every anxiety-infused chapter you send him of your in progress novel. Therefore you cannot bother him before six in the morning, which is when he actually wakes up. It would be unholy. An even greater transgression upon the gods, assuming they exist.

You close your laptop, making sure to double and then triple save your work because accidents happen and you don't need any of them at two am on Friday when something's already wrong with Seungcheol, then shut off the light before shuffling back into the room where you're actually supposed to sleep. The bed looks extremely inviting all of a sudden, what with all the nice little blankets and pillows that you haven't seen in days because you've just been taking cat naps in your office, and it's all you can do to force yourself to brush your teeth first and attempt to wash your face before plugging your phone into its charger and falling onto the bed.

In minutes, you're fast asleep.

. . . . .

When you wake up twelve hours later, at first you don't really remember why there's anxiety buzzing in your chest.

Your eyes feel crusty. So does your mouth. It feels like something died on your tongue. And your entire body feels grimy, probably because you haven't showered in a couple of days, so you ignore the little flutter of anxiety for now, just for now, and head to the bathroom.

One shower and a set of fully brushed teeth later, you stand in front of the bathroom mirror and attempt coherent thought.

Fact 1: You feel somewhat anxious.

Fact 2: It is true that you can sometimes feel anxious for no reason. It's called anxiety and it's the reason you see a therapist.

Fact 3: You're finally on track to meet your deadline in several days thanks to the past five days of gremlin behavior.

Conjecture 1: The deadline is not the source of your anxiety.

Conjecture 2: Something else is the source of your anxiety.

You blink. Wait. How many days has it been since you went into writer gremlin mode?

Five. It has been five days.

Your final thoughts from two in the morning come rushing back. Right. Seungcheol didn't come by on the three day mark to bring you coffee, make you food, and force you to nap.

Somehow in the light of day, this realization seems more concerning than ever.

You head back into your room to check your phone, which is now happily and fully charged at your bedside. Several new text messages, but none of them from Seungcheol.

Concerning has now become worrying.

You flick through the other texts. One from Soonyoung that's just a weird meme, one from Chaewon reminding you to take a break at some point. Nothing from Seungcheol at all.

You call the office.

“Hello?”

“Is Seungcheol there?”

A pause. “... Y/N?”

“Yes, it's me, I'm incredibly offended that you don't remember my voice,” you rattle off. “Is Seungcheol there?”

Jeonghan pauses again on the other end. The sound of shuffling papers fills the phone. “Greetings to you too,” he snarks, and you really want to hit him. So much. But he's several miles away in an office building and your only connection is through like... electrical wires. Or waves. Or something. Science wasn't your strongest suit in school. Point is, you can't hit him. “Glad to see you've dragged yourself out of your writer gremlin induced stupor. And no, before you ask again, I don't think he came in today.”

This is more worrying than you thought it would be. Seungcheol doesn't miss work. He's always on time, if not early—the one time he came in late and you were on time, you thought the world was going to end.

“Cute, thanks. Have a good—” you check the time— “four more hours of work!” You hang up before you can hear his reply.

So not only has Seungcheol not texted you or called you at all in the past few days, but he isn't at work either. These levels of worrying are starting to get dizzying. Which means only one thing:

You need to find him.

Luckily, you've been to Seungcheol's place several times for both work and social purposes, like when Joshua and Soonyoung convinced him to host a little Christmas party that ended with almost everyone tipsy or drunk and passed out in his living room by morning. You were on your meds so you couldn't drink, so you got saddled with the fun responsibility of bullying everyone into drinking hangover cures when they woke up.

It was actually kind of fun getting to record them doing and saying stupid shit, though. You were able to stock up on at least a year's worth of blackmail material in just one night. Efficient.

Not the point. You know where Seungcheol lives. Now you need to go there and ascertain whether or not he's alive. And if he isn't alive, see if his cat is doing okay before you go have a mental breakdown because Seungcheol can't die. It's like, impossible. He's pretty much invincible. Anyone who goes to the gym every day like it's his religion can't die.

You throw several things into your beaten up bag, then on second thought shove your laptop into its case to bring it too. Another voice that sounds ridiculously like Joshua chirps something like you bring that everywhere.

“It's called separation anxiety,” you say out loud.

No one replies. Which is good, because if someone did, you’d have a whole new problem on your hands.

With that, you grab your laptop charger, shove it in the bag, and head out the front door. You only almost forget to lock it on your way out.

. . . . .

It only hits you that you might be overreacting when you're right outside Seungcheol's apartment. When you've literally raised your fist to knock on the door.

Because maybe he's... fine. Maybe he's perfectly fine and he's just tired of coddling you like a child. It would be valid. He shouldn't need to bring you coffee every third day of your gremlin life. He shouldn't need to learn to cook for you just so you can actually eat a fresh vegetable every so often. He shouldn't need to make you take naps like a toddler because you forget to take care of yourself a little too often to be acceptable as a full grown adult.

Maybe you should have called him beforehand and seen if he actually needed you before coming here.

Okay, no. A voice that sounds suspiciously like your therapist cuts through your spiral of negativity. Seungcheol is your editor. He is also your friend. Friends check on each other and make sure they're doing okay.

Yes, but friends don't usually do... all of that. Seungcheol's cooking has actually improved in the process of attempting to make you eat. That's dedication you aren't sure you deserve.

That's the effort he's putting into your friendship, your mind therapist says. And you put your own effort into the friendship. It's not like he's doing this all alone.  

Right. You look at the door. You've shown up to his apartment unannounced because you were worried about him. That has to count for something, right?

Yes! your mind therapist cheers.

No, says the bitch ass part of your brain.

This hurts, says the arm that is still raised in the air, ready to knock on the door but unable to because anxiety.

Whatever. You sigh. You've already made the entire subway ride and walk to his apartment and are standing outside his door. Might as well check on him while you're here.

You knock.

No one answers.

You frown. Maybe he's not home, in which case finding him will be considerably more difficult. Or maybe he just didn't hear you. That would be the better option. Maybe you should knock again.

You knock again.

This time, to your relief, something does sound behind the door. To your concern, however, it sounds like a groan mixed with a crash, which is not something you ever thought you'd hear from Choi Seungcheol's apartment. You did not prepare yourself for a possible horror story on this bright Friday afternoon.

“... Seungcheol?” you call through the door.

Another sound follows, more like a thump this time. There's also a meow that sounds like Hobak, which is reassuring. “Coming,” you make out very faintly.

Well, it sounds... vaguely like Seungcheol. You frown. You could kind of hear the undercurrents of his tone in the garbled mess that you made out as coming. Maybe it's not a horror movie monster in his apartment, then.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other as you wait for what is presumably Seungcheol or some sort of Seungcheol-esque form to open the door. Someone is staring at you out of the corner of your eye at the end of the hall and you really don't want to be out here for longer than is necessary.

Finally, you hear something click in the door. You have about one second to prepare yourself for something ghastly and horror movie-like before it swings open.

You blink. So does Seungcheol.

“... Y/N?”

Okay, so not a horror movie monster. At least not one that's possessed him. But honestly, if Seungcheol had told you such a monster had ransacked his apartment and left him to die, you'd have believed him because this is the worst you've ever seen him.

His eyes are red. So is his nose. He's got this huge fluffy blanket wrapped around him and—is he shivering? You have to look again. The Seungcheol you know would never look like this. He always looks so put together, even when he's just come from the gym—which is ungodly because you always look like shit after you've gotten off the treadmill—and even when he's wading through your little writer gremlin cave he never looks out of place, but right now...

“You aren't, like...” You gesture vaguely. “You are Seungcheol, right?”

Seungcheol blinks. That's how you know he’s really in bad shape—it's taking him a full one, two, three seconds to actually buffer and process the bullshit that's coming out of your mouth when it normally takes him less than one. “Yes, I'm Seungcheol,” he mumbles, all congested and muffled, and if you weren't so shocked you might actually laugh because it's kind of cute.

“Oh. Okay.” You blink again. “You're sick.”

Seungcheol's face flushes redder, which you thought would’ve been impossible. “I'm not that sick.”

“Seungcheol, you are very, very sick.” You push your way into the apartment and shut the door. “As in I've never seen anyone this sick before, even myself. Which is weird because I thought you could never get sick, given that you're actually a healthy human being with a functional eating and sleeping and exercising schedule that you actually keep to on the regular.” You dump your bag on a nearby chair—how is he still so neat even when he's probably a mess on the inside? “Where were you before I came? On the couch?”

He nods feebly.

“Go back to the couch and sleep.” You steer him toward it and push him lightly onto the cushions. He does it without much protest, which is highly worrying considering Seungcheol is made of many pounds of pure muscle and you shouldn't be able to maneuver him this easily. “I'm going to make you soup. Or something.”

“You shouldn't be here,” he mumbles, though his eyes are already closing. You might coo if you weren't half worried he'd spring up and kill you for it. “You'll get sick.”

“Lucky for you, I have an immune system of steel.” Which is kind of a lie, but you'll take your chances while Seungcheol is too conked out by his own shit immune system to counter you with facts. “And I can make a mean fucking bowl of soup. Do you have masks?”

“By the door,” he mumbles, even softer than before. “Thanks.”

“You're very welcome.” You pat his head. “Now go to bed. There'll be soup and meds for you when you wake up.”

He's knocked out before you finish your sentence. Which is just as well, you think as you locate the masks and pull one over your nose. He shouldn't be exerting himself at the moment, and you need to concentrate on making some soup.

. . . . .

An hour later, you have made one trip to the grocery store and convenience store and returned with a variety of things with which to make soup and some pills that you think Seungcheol might need. You're not a doctor—the universe should thank you for that—so you're not sure what exactly he's come down with, but you checked his forehead and it was hot, so fever pills are probably a safe bet. Hopefully. As for the soup, you've made this so many times you could do it in your sleep. Mostly because when your mom made it the first time you were sick, you liked it so much that you kept bugging her to make it again and eventually she taught you to make it on your own so you'd stop bothering her.

Good memories.

It takes a while to locate everything you need in Seungcheol's kitchen because he's not an organized mess like you are, he's just organized, therefore because there's no chaos in the kitchen you can't really find anything at first. This is not made better by Hobak attempting to climb up your leg every five minutes, but eventually he goes to his refilled food bowl, which gives you time to get together all the things you need and can start cooking. Seungcheol doesn’t make a sound in the background, which worries you several times, but each time you check on him to change the wet cloth you've draped across his forehead, he's just sleeping. Very, very soundly.

According to Google, that's a good thing. Because he needs rest. So you leave him be.

Soon, the soup is done, and you can smell its wonderful aroma even through your mask. Probably because you're standing right in front of it. But the point is, it smells wonderful, and Hobak clearly likes the smell too since he keeps sniffing your fingers, so hopefully Seungcheol will also be able to smell it being wonderful if his nose isn't too congested. Maybe then he will also be able to appreciate its taste. Something in an intro psych class you took in college said smell and taste are very much related. You also didn't need an intro psych class to tell you that because you have experienced the connection several times in real life firsthand.

Like when you were sick.

Luckily for you, Seungcheol's eyes are beginning to flutter open when you check on him after ladling half the soup into a bowl. He kind of blinks when he sees you like he doesn't really believe you're there, so you wave a hand in front of his face. “Hi.”

“... Hi,” he says. “You're actually here.”

“What, did you think I was just a dream?”

He nods, then winces. “Yeah.”

“Fortunately for you, I'm not a dream. And to prove it, I made soup.” You point to the kitchen. “Can you smell it?”

Seungcheol blinks blearily. “Vaguely.”

“Oh, great.” You breathe a sigh of relief. “Your nose isn't completely shot then. Do you think you can eat it?”

“... Maybe?”

“All right, I'll go get it for you.” Bustling back into the kitchen, you return with a hot bowl of soup and a glass of water. “You should take some of these meds before you eat, probably,” you say, indicating the bottles you dumped on the table before.

Obediently, Seungcheol swallows the pills you give him and drinks the full glass of water. When you hold up the soup bowl, however, he grimaces.

“What's wrong?” You put it down. “Does it smell bad? I promise even if your sense of smell has been completely corrupted by whatever illness you have, it tastes good.”

“No, no, it smells good.” He coughs. “I just... don't know if I can hold it. The bowl.”

“Ah.” You look at the soup, then at him. That might be something of a problem. Hm.

Oh, simple solution. You pick up the spoon yourself. “I'll feed you, then.”

For some reason, Seungcheol seems to balk at this. For the entire world you can't understand why. “Do you want the soup?” you ask. “If you can't eat it, I can just store it away for later.”

“I want it,” he mumbles, looking very put out and very childish in a way you never thought you'd see on the one and only sturdy, steady, reliable, healthy Choi Seungcheol. “You just shouldn't have to feed me.”

“Well, I don't see why not.” You wave the spoon in the air. “You're sick. You want soup. You can't hold the bowl without dropping it and I am here. Ergo, I will help you drink the soup. By feeding you.”

Bam. That's a good syllogism. If that's even what a syllogism is. You still haven't checked the definition.

Seungcheol finally relents, nodding slightly. “Okay.”

You pat his head. “Good boy,” you smile before dipping the spoon in the soup. Blowing on it softly, you extend your hand. “Open wide.”

“I'm not a child,” he mutters, but he follows your instructions anyway. You feed him the soup. “Good, isn't it?”

“I think so,” he says, swallowing.

You blink. “You think so?”

“I can't fully taste anything,” Seungcheol complains. “My nose is stuffed.”

“I can't believe you're missing out on my mom's famous soup,” you say, shaking your head. “You know the first time she made it, I bothered her into making it so many times after that she just taught me how to make it myself at some point so I wouldn't keep asking her.”

Seungcheol swallows the second spoonful. He coughs and you hand him a second glass of water. “You kept asking her, didn't you.”

You grin beatifically. “Well, when I'm at home with a mother who's willing to cook, I'm going to try and take advantage of that. Otherwise, I will go into my messy kitchen and cook it for myself.” You poke another spoonful into his face. “Drink.”

Sip by sip, Seungcheol empties half the bowl before he decides he's had enough. You carefully push the rest of the soup away so that you won't accidentally spill it before handing him the glass of water. “Drink the rest of that,” you say, “and then you should probably sleep some more.”

He grumbles, but he finishes the glass. You pat his head again. “Go to sleep, now.”

“Don't wanna sleep,” he mumbles. “I slept so much earlier.”

“I'm pretty sure you slept like—” you check the microwave clock, which now reads five in the afternoon. “Two hours since I got here. At most.”

“I slept a lot before you came,” he mutters. “Why did you come, anyway?”

Oh. You blink. That's a question you weren't exactly expecting to have to answer. “Uh. Well. I kind of, uh, emerged from my den yesterday. Well, this morning. At like, two am.”

Seungcheol makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort. Out of the kindness of your own heart and mercy for his sick little body, you ignore it.

“And I realized five days had passed since I spiraled into my deadline anxiety, and then I realized you hadn't come by on the third day to bully me into halfway taking care of myself, and then I checked my phone and saw that you hadn't texted or called me at all, and then I kind of passed out because I was going to call you but then I saw the time and thought no reasonable person should actually ever call anyone at this time of the morning and especially not you, so I passed out for like twelve hours and then I woke up and called Jeonghan and he said you weren't in the office. Which is extremely worrying because you always go to work on time. So I kind of panicked and decided to find you and then I showed up at your front door.” You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. “I realize I probably should have called before coming, but I only came to that conclusion when I was like... right outside.”

Seungcheol blinks about five times before he actually says anything in response. “I got like... half of that.”

“Oh.” You shrug. “Sorry.”

“It was enough,” he reassures you, and you feel kind of bad because even sick he's still having to reassure you about dumb things like talking too fast for his sick brain to keep up with, but then he coughs again and you have to go fill up the glass a third time and the thought flies away. “Anyway, if you'd called, I probably wouldn't have answered,” he admits after drinking more water. “I was kind of dead to the world for a while.”

“Why didn't you call anyone?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “I'd have thought of all people, you'd be the reasonable type to actually call someone for help, you know. Like Jun. Or Joshua. Or Soonyoung or Jeonghan. They would've brought you meds.”

“None of them can cook,” Seungcheol says.

You pause. “Joshua can cook.”

“He has the ability to put things in a pan and not burn them,” Seungcheol corrects, and you have to admit that he's right. “That's not exactly cooking.”

“It's cooking. Just not cooking well,” you say, and Seungcheol grumbles a little but nods in the end. “And anyway, they could've brought you convenience store soup or something. Doesn't need to be home cooked.”

“Home cooked is best,” he says.

“Seungcheol, you could barely taste what I made for you.”

“Still.” He pouts, and this time you actually coo. “What?”

“You're cute when you're pouting.” You pat his cheek, which is still worryingly warm. “Hang on, I'm going to change the cloth on your head.”

You half expect Seungcheol to have gone to sleep in the time it takes to wet a new cloth with cold water, but when you come back, his eyes are still open. “You really aren't sleepy, are you,” you say, draping the new cloth over his forehead.

“No, I'm not,” he says, like a petulant child.

“Sleeping will help the sickness pass faster,” you point out. “I don't really know what you were thinking, keeping this from everyone for what—five days? Were you sick this entire time?”

“I wasn't. I started feeling kind of off on... Tuesday, I think.” Seungcheol screws his eyes shut, as though trying to remember, which is ridiculously cute but you manage to keep yourself from cooing this time. “On Wednesday I still went in to work but then I was coughing by the end of the day so I didn't go in on Thursday and just slept like the whole day and now it's apparently Friday, I guess.”

“Aw, look at you. You're the one figuring out the days of the week this time, not me.” You giggle at Seungcheol's death glare expression as you pat his head again. “Seriously, though, why didn't you call anyone? All of the people I mentioned before would've helped if you'd just said something.”

“Why didn't you mention yourself?”

Okay, another weird question you weren't expecting to get asked. It actually takes a moment to formulate your answer because you don't even know it. It doesn't rely on undebatable facts the way your previous answer did. Just stupid personal opinions.

“Uh, probably because I'm a mess?” you finally say, raising an eyebrow. “Like a certified, grade A mess, Seungcheol. I'm like one of those grade A eggs at the supermarket that are expensive, but a mess. Not an egg.”

“Yeah, I figured you weren't an egg.” Seungcheol goes into another coughing fit and you pat his hair through it—which he seems to like, at least unconsciously, by the way that he keeps sort of leaning into your hand. “That's what snark will do to you,” you say seriously as he drinks the rest of the glass of water. “It'll throw you into a coughing fit. Better watch your mouth, Seungcheol.”

He puts down the glass of water with a withering glare that gives you hope he might fully recover, because that's a normal Seungcheol expression. Not the weird, sick one he's been sporting for most of the past few hours. “Be quiet,” he mutters. “Anyway, you're not—that much of a mess.”

You laugh, loud and sharp in the silence. “I'm very much a mess, Seungcheol. There's no need to sugarcoat it for me. I've accepted it.”

“Y/N—” he starts, but you cut him off. “I go into like... hibernation, but more messed up because I'm not a bear for like. A week in a row. Sometimes. Because I have spiraling anxiety about deadlines and stuff and like, yeah, I'm going to therapy, but it still happens so you have to bring me coffee and cook for me and make me nap and shower because I can't really take care of myself like a normal human being sometimes, Seungcheol. I'm like... a certified mess. By anyone's standards.”

Seungcheol stays quiet for a moment. You realize then how much you dumped on him and how you really didn't mean to do that at all.

“That sounded kinda like trauma dumping, right?” You try to laugh. “Sorry. Didn't mean to. Just ignore everything—”

“I don't do any of that because I have to,” Seungcheol says quietly. “I do it because I care about you and I worry about you sometimes. Not because I have to.”

You blink once. Twice. How do you respond to that?

“And like, you kind of are a mess,” he continues, “but it's not like the most destructive mess in the world. You realize what's up and you get help for the things you need help with. I think that's pretty commendable.”

Your heart is beating a little faster. This is not what you needed. Or expected. But for some reason you're getting it anyway.

“You're the one who came to me when you thought something was up,” he says. “The others didn't. They probably will, at some point, but you're the one who came first.”

Now you really don't know how to respond. Like even saying supercalifragilisticexpialidocious wouldn't cut it. Or whatever the fuck that word is.

“Y/N?” Seungcheol's looking up at you now with a very strange expression on his face—not the sick one, not really, but very... earnest. And honest. It's how you know he wasn't lying with his words, not the way the fucked up part of your brain would try to have you believe.

“Huh? Yeah, I'm still here.” You smile. “I just—thanks, Seungcheol.” Your voice drops a little. “I appreciate it. Really.”

“I appreciate you a lot,” Seungcheol murmurs. “A lot of people appreciate you too. You just don't see it, sometimes.”

That's probably true, if you operate under the assumption that Seungcheol's second statement is true. His first statement too. Which is a logical loophole because the veracity of the third statement relies on the truthfulness of the first two but your brain is a little fried from Seungcheol's compliments so you decide to just take them at face value. He's probably right about all three things, as hard as it is for your little fucked up brain to believe. If people do appreciate you as much as he says, you have a hard time noticing it. But hey, that's what therapy's for.

“Maybe,” is what you eventually settle on as an answer. Ambiguous enough to not fully agree, but also to not fully disagree. Seungcheol will understand. He always does. “Are you sleepy now?”

He frowns. “No.”

“Well, uh.” You check the time. Wow, you've been talking a while—it's almost six. “Do you want to try drinking the rest of your soup? I can heat it up again.”

Seungcheol blinks. Coughs. Eyes the bowl of soup at the end of the table where you can't accidentally knock it over. Hobak might have a chance at it if he weren't asleep in the corner by now. “I can try,” he says warily. “I don't know if I'll be able to finish it, though.”

“Don't force yourself,” you say. “If you don't want to drink it, we can save it for like, tomorrow.”

Seungcheol looks up at you with a strangely hopeful expression. “Are you going to stay until tomorrow?”

You pause. Well, it's more like you were planning to go home, fuck around with your word documents for several hours, pass out, and then come back. But with the way Seungcheol is looking at you... “Do you want me to stay?” you ask.

He burrows into his blankets even more, like he's shy. If you weren't sure that Seungcheol would find some terrible blackmail on you and leak it to all your good for nothing friends, you'd take a picture. “Kinda,” he mumbles.

“I mean, uh...” You think. You have your laptop with you and there's another bowl of soup for yourself waiting on the stove. “I'd probably have to go home and get a few things. But if you really want, I could stay the night...?”

“Please,” he mumbles into the blankets. “I don't really want to be alone.”

“You're so cute when you're sick,” you coo, patting his head. The look on his face would be more menacing if he wasn't curled up in a blanket burrito with a very red nose sticking out. You tell him as much.

“Stop being mean to me when I'm sick,” he mutters.

“I'm not being mean. I'm telling the truth.” You point at the half empty bowl of soup. “Now do you want to try and drink the rest of it, or no?”

He does end up finishing about a third of the remaining soup before he decides his stomach can't handle more. You get another glass of water into him before pulling your own soup out from its spot on the stove, and then you put on some random white noise Netflix drama on Seungcheol's laptop as you eat your own dinner. Seungcheol makes interesting commentary on the characters and you shit on the plot. At some point, Hobak wanders into your lap, and Seungcheol complains about his cat liking you more than him. It's like things are back to normal, except for his sniffling and coughing and you periodically helping him sip water from his glass.

Eventually he does doze off and only then does Hobak decide it's time to snuggle with his owner, so you take the opportunity to clean up the living room table a little, sweeping a few tissues into the trash can and wiping down the table itself. His place is still annoyingly clean even though he's sick—if you were in his position in your apartment, it'd be even more of a shiftiest than it is now—and when you're done washing the dishes and throwing things away, you finally check your phone.

More memes from Soonyoung, a cat picture from Jun, a missed call from Jeonghan and a following text. You open that up first.

did u find cheol? is he ok?

You rattle off a quick message in reply.

he's sick at his apartmnt. dw I made him soup and he's sleeping now sorry didn't se ur call earlir

Immediately your phone buzzes with some sort of response, but your brain is already headed in a different direction. Namely trying to decide whether or not you should change the towel on Seungcheol's head again. You end up changing it because he still feels pretty warm, but his nose is dotted with sweat. Maybe his fever will break soon.

Settling back down on the floor, you scroll through your phone for a bit and answer Jeonghan's ensuing text as well as the other meme messages before remembering that you're staying the night, which means you need to head back home and get a few things.

Seungcheol's still asleep, though. And you feel kind of bad leaving him here without any notice, even if you know you'll be coming back within an hour. You debate between waking him up and just leaving a note, but in the end you decide to shake him awake a little. He wouldn't want to wake up to just a note, you know that much.

“Seungcheol.” You nudge his shoulder lightly. “Seungcheol.”

He mumbles a little, eyes blinking open slowly. “Wha…”

“Don't move, you'll disturb Hobak.” You hold him in place. “I'm going to go back to my place to get a few things,” you whisper. “I'll be back within an hour.”

You turn to leave, but something's tugging you back. You look behind you to see one of Seungcheol's hands gripping your sleeve.

“... Seungcheol?”

“Don't go,” he murmurs adorably, and your heart nearly breaks at the sight. “I have stuff. Spare toothbrush under sink. Sleep on my bed.”

“Seungcheol, as much as I appreciate it, I need clothes,” you say. “Not just a toothbrush. Probably a towel too, I'd like to shower. Remember?” You wiggle your fingers. “You're all germy and gross and I've been here for several hours.”

“I have extra towels,” he protests, his eyes blinking awake further. Damn it, this is ruining all your plans to just shake him awake and be on your way in a minute. “And you can wear my clothes. I have stuff that'll fit.”

You have to buffer for a minute to make sure you're hearing this correctly. “Me. Wear your clothes.”

Seungcheol nods.

So you weren't hallucinating sounds. You shake your head. “Seungcheol, seriously.”

“I'm being serious,” he whines. And he looks so very heartbroken at the thought of you leaving, even if it's just for an hour, that you actually find yourself reconsidering. Choi Seungcheol, a full grown man with muscles and a sleep schedule, is acting like a child and melting your heart in the process. “You can use my shampoo and soap too.”

Oh, God. He's being so ridiculously convincing. What is his problem. You sigh. “I'm going to make a mess, probably.”

“I don't care.” Seungcheol pouts and it's even more ridiculously convincing. “Everything's already messy.”

You look around. That's a blatant fucking lie. Everything is still in very much spotless condition. But when you look back at him with a raised eyebrow, Seungcheol's eyes are already fluttering shut like a cute little baby and you find your heart melting again. “You can't deny me my dying request,” he mumbles.

“I never thought you'd be this dramatic when you were sick,” you mutter. “All right, all right, I'll stay. On one condition.” You point at him. “Go back to sleep.”

His eyes narrow. “Promise you won't leave?”

You sigh again. “I promise.”

He goes quiet, then, his eyes fluttering shut. You turn toward the bathroom, ready to take stock of whatever he's got in his unnecessarily neat cabinets, but a little noise makes you look back once more. “Hm?”

“Can you pat my hair,” Seungcheol mumbles, so quietly you can barely hear. He looks half asleep—his eyes aren't even open as he speaks. “'s soothing.”

That's it. Sick Seungcheol is actually going to kill you because of cuteness overload. You settle on the edge of the table like you did when you were feeding him, not even bothering to hide the smile on your face anymore. “Sure, Seungcheol,” you say, stroking through his messy hair. “Feel better?”

“Mm.” He snuggles deeper into the blankets. Your heart is melting more than you thought it could. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you murmur. “Sleep now, okay?”

“Mm,” he mumbles. He's already half gone.

You smile wider as his breath evens into sleep.

. . . . .

One shower and requisite cleanup later, you've settled on the small armchair by the couch and set up your laptop to write. No longer does a blank word document stare back at you menacingly when you open the application, which is encouraging, and for some reason, the soft sound of Seungcheol's sleeping breaths is good background noise as you try to get into this final chapter.

Once you've lost yourself in the writing, it can take anywhere from a few hours to like, a day, or maybe three or five days, for you to pull yourself out of the daze. When you look up from your laptop, eyes burning with the need to look at something that isn't a screen and throat parched for water, the clock says it's a few minutes past midnight.

Time for a break, then. You sneak a glance at Seungcheol, who's still fast asleep. If he were awake he'd be forcing you to drink water right about now, anyway.

You down a glass of water in the kitchen, then bring another back into the living room only to see that Seungcheol has since shifted in his sleep and is about to kick off all his blankets. Probably half due to Hobak, who has made a nest right on top of him and clawed off several sheets.

That can't be a good thing. You go to pull them back up around him but he shifts again, this time actually kicking half the blanket burrito off of him. Hobak does not help matters by waking up and skittering his way off the couch, taking the other half of the burrito with him. In the process, he also manages to drag Seungcheol's shirt... up.

Oh. Okay. This is—totally fine. So, super, totally fine. You put down your glass of water before you can do something like drop it and shatter it and make a huge mess that you're unqualified to clean. Like, logically, you know that Seungcheol goes to the gym every day he can, but somehow you did... not make the connection between gym every day and abs.  

Because Seungcheol has abs. Very nice ones, in fact. The intrusive thoughts are telling you to touch them but you have just enough sense at ten minutes past midnight to abstain, which is something you should earn an award for. Instead, you avert your gaze and pull the blankets back over him as much as possible, swatting away the image of abs abs abs abs abs whenever it comes up. Which is too many times for a single minute.

You sigh, looking back at your abandoned laptop. Part of you wants to go back to writing but another part of you still wants a break (aka time to think about abs abs abs abs—shut the fuck up), so you pull out your phone and settle on the ground. If it's past midnight, that means the new day's wordle is up.

Sure enough, a blank puzzle greets you when you pull up the site. You try a random first guess—grief, it's got two vowels so it can't be too bad—and come up with some decent clues. Hm...

Your second guess goes without much luck. So does your third, though at least all the letters that are confirmed to be in the word are in the correct place. You scan the rest of the keyboard that isn't completely blacked out. What makes sense? Is there even a word that makes sense? What if it's something stupid and contrived, or even worse, a word with a repeating letter—

“Merit.”

You shriek.

Seungcheol blinks owlishly from above on his perch on the couch, staring at you heaving on the floor. “Y/N?”

“Jesus Christ,” you gasp. “Seungcheol, don't scare me like that—I thought you were asleep—”

“I was. Then I woke up.” He blinks. “I feel better, I think.”

“Let me check your fever.” You place a hand to his head. Even under the lingering coolness coming from the mostly warmed over cloth, you can tell he's come down a few degrees. “Oh, good. It looks like you aren't lying.”

Seungcheol scowls. It almost looks like a normal expression for him. “Of course I wasn't lying.”

“Uh uh.” You shake your head. “I'm ninety nine percent sure you'd probably lie to me so that you could end up going to work tomorrow. Don't try to refute me.”

He grumbles, but in the end says nothing. You take that as a win. “Give me a second, I'm going to change the towel.”

With a new towel on his forehead and the sweat wiped away from the rest of his face, Seungcheol actually looks somewhat better than the death warmed over look you saw on him when you first arrived earlier today. Or yesterday, since it's past midnight. Wow, your schedule is seriously fucked.

You sit back on your heels. “Okay, what were you saying before? Something about merit?”

Seungcheol blinks. “Your wordle. Try merit.”

You look down at your phone where it's lying on the floor, your incorrect wordle guesses staring back up at you, taunting you like you're a fucking imbecile who can't guess the correct word in three tries or less. You blink, picking up your phone. Merit might actually work... You tap it in.

“Shut the fuck up,” you whisper, staring at the screen in horror.

It's the correct answer. It's the correct fucking answer. You glare at Seungcheol, who glances back at you innocently from his little burrito on the couch. “Was it correct?”

“Yes, it was, you—argh.” You put your phone down before you can do something stupid like throw it across the room. “Why the fuck are you being my editor when you're sick as a dog?”

Seungcheol blinks. “I'm not being your editor.”

“STOP EDITING MY GUESSES!” you screech.

“I didn't edit anything,” he replies in a matter of fact tone that makes you want to scream even louder. “I just found the correct answer.”

You groan, flopping to the floor. “I hate you.”

“If you hated me, you wouldn't still be here.”

You glare at him. “Bet. I'll leave right now.”

“You wouldn't.” Seungcheol stares back at you, steady, resolute, but...

Aw. There was a little tremble of uncertainty in his voice.

Instantly your heart melts, but you have too much pride (you shouldn't, your dignity was flushed down the drain at birth) to give in completely. “Yeah, I won't leave,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I'm staying until you get better, doofus. Now go back to sleep. I don't know why you woke up.”

Seungcheol pouts. “Can I get some water?”

“Anything for you, Your Majesty.”

He successfully drinks half of the glass you bring back to him, and then you have to help him shuffle to the bathroom. When he comes out, you shuffle him back to the couch, where he collapses into a blanket burrito once more. “Sleepy,” he mumbles. “Pat my head.”

“What a demanding little child you are.” You start patting his head anyway. “Go to bed, Seungcheol. You'll feel better in the morning.”

“Mm.” He snuggles closer to your hand, and you have to fight back a coo for the umpteenth time today. Or in the past twenty four hours, because it's Saturday. Allegedly. “Goodnight.”

You laugh a little, stroking his hair. “Goodnight, Seungcheol.”

. . . . .

In the morning, Seungcheol's fever has mostly broken, and by midafternoon, he's able to get up and walk around. Jeonghan and Joshua show up at lunch with some convenience store soup that he can actually taste, and then for dinner, when Soonyoung and Jun come around, you make your mom's famous soup and all of them say it tastes better than convenience store anything. You beam with pride.

All this is to say that when evening comes, you're mostly convinced that Seungcheol is actively getting better (he hasn't had a coughing fit in five hours, you were counting) and he probably won't die if you don't spend the night. Seungcheol doesn't seem as convinced, but when you show him the reading on the thermometer that Soonyoung brought along, he kind of acquiesces. At least that's what you think he does when he sinks back into the couch.

“Look, your nose isn't even that red anymore.” You show him a picture you took when he was sleeping, then snap another picture right now before he can protest. “See the difference? Before and after. It's evidence.” Seungcheol likes evidence.  

So eventually, after washing your clothes from yesterday and changing from the t-shirt and sweatpants Seungcheol lent you, you head back to your apartment. It's dark and Seungcheol-less and Hobak-less and for a moment, standing in the doorway, you feel a little lonely, but then you remember you have a deadline to meet in three days and half a chapter left to write and your mind decides to latch onto that.

Which is to say when Seungcheol calls two days later, demanding you open your door, you're mostly a mess. Not entirely, because it's only half a chapter and you have probably just a few paragraphs left, but you've written the ending three different times and each time it just sucked more. You'd probably start biting things if it weren't for Seungcheol's call.

Stumbling out of your little writer cave, you throw open your apartment door. “Hi. Why did you ask if I had a mask.”

“I forgot one from home and I thought you might possibly be sick. Also, I might have leftover germs.” Seungcheol pushes into the door, vaguely reminiscent of when you shoved yourself into his apartment the day you found out he was sick. “Have you eaten? And do you have one?”

You blink. He looks... mostly normal. There's a little sparkle back in his eyes, and even though you can't see his nose under the mask to tell how red it is, he doesn't sound nearly as congested anymore as he used to be. He actually came all the way to your apartment so he can't be feeling too bad.

But there's still something kind of... off. You're not sure what it is. Maybe it's the remnants of sickness still clinging to his body, but while the conjecture makes sense, it doesn't feel right.

He looks at you. “Are you listening to me?”

“… No.”

Seungcheol sighs. “I asked if you've eaten. And if you have a mask.”

“I ran out of masks like two weeks ago and forgot to restock.” Ignoring Seungcheol’s groan, you purse your lips. “I... think I ate a cup of ramen last night.” A memory returns of you dumping an empty ramen cup into the wastebasket by your desk. “Yeah, I definitely ate ramen last night.”

“So maybe you aren't sick.” Seungcheol sighs, and it sounds kind of relieved. “What were you thinking, coming over and staying the night when I was sick?”

“I—what?” You poke his forehead. “You were the one insisting that I stay over! Do you remember yourself? You were literally begging me to stay, you wouldn’t let me leave to even get clothes—”

“You shouldn't have agreed!” Seungcheol snaps, and that's when you see the anxiety buzzing around his figure. Ah. That's what was off about him. He looks a little jumpy. “You should have gone home and not worried, Y/N, I would've been fine.”

“No, you wouldn't have.” You wish you hadn’t left your phone in the office, you could show him pictures—evidence—that he was sick as a fucking dog for the day you were there. “You were dead and dying on your couch. Who was going to take care of you? Hobak?”

Seungcheol looks at you for a very long moment, almost tensed to spring. Then, all of a sudden, he deflates. “I didn't want you to get sick too,” he mumbles. “You already overwork yourself.”

“Says you.” You snort. “And you’re forgetting, I have an immune system made of steel.”

All Seungcheol does is raise an eyebrow.

Damn, you forgot that he's mostly back to normal, which means you can't get away with speaking outrageous untruths because he'll catch you in them immediately. “Well, that means you're better,” you mutter.

“Huh?”

“You're judging me with that raised eyebrow.” You point. “It took you a whole three or five seconds or something to process my bullshit when I came over. Now you're back to dealing with it in one.”

“I feel like your standards for determining whether or not I'm sick are kind of concerning,” Seungcheol replies. “Whether or not I'm able to judge you.”

“Well, it's that, and also you look considerably better than when you were burritoed on the couch with Hobak sitting on you like a fluffy hat. In addition to the fact that you were able to get on the subway and walk here like a normal human being.” You blink. “Anyway, why are you here? I have a deadline. I feel like I probably mentioned this to you. Actually wait, you're my editor. Don't you have my deadlines memorized better than I do?”

Suddenly, Seungcheol looks very... embarrassed. Which is interesting and concerning because he rarely looks embarrassed. You've seen shy Seungcheol, giggly Seungcheol, cute Seungcheol, but never really embarrassed Seungcheol.

“Just...” He shrugs slightly, then doesn't say anything else.

You put your hand to his forehead and he jumps. It's not feverish, but you still narrow your eyes. “Are you still sick? You're weirdly jumpy today.”

“I'm not sick,” he mumbles. “I just... thanks.” He swallows very visibly. “For taking care of me.”

You blink once. Twice. It's like when he complimented you when he was ill—how the fuck do you respond to that?

“It's fine,” you eventually say, feeling like something is definitely not fine because there's still tension in the air except you don't know how to resolve it. “I mean, you're always taking care of me. It was the least I could do for you.”

For some reason, that seems to upset Seungcheol more. His eyebrows knit together like he's worried and you have no idea why anything you said could have made him more jumpy or nervous or upset. “... Seungcheol? Are you mad?”

“It's not a negotiation,” he says, and now you're more confused than ever. Negotiation?

“It's not like... a tradeoff.” He blinks and this time you can't look away from his big eyes looking at you like the saddest, most worried puppy in the world. “I take care of you because I like taking care of you.”

Vaguely, a memory starts to re-form from when Seungcheol was sick and you were sitting by him on the couch and you were probably patting his head while talking. Or maybe not. You're not entirely sure. But you do very much remember talking about how he shouldn't need to make you take care of yourself because you should be able to do it on your own, but your brain has made it clear that one some days you can't, and then he said something very akin to what he just said...

I don't do any of that because I have to. I do it because I care about you and I worry about you sometimes. Not because I have to.

You didn't know how to respond then. You still don't know how to respond now.

“Uh.” You blink. “Is this about, like. What I said when you were conked out on the couch.”

Seungcheol sighs. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Okay, we can probably move past that.” You try to smile. “I mean, like. I'm getting help. I'm figuring things out. At some point I'll actually be able to deal with my own shit, hopefully.”

“That's the point,” Seungcheol snaps, looking even more upset. “I don't take care of you because it's an obligation, Y/N.”

You're starting to get a little annoyed now, too. “Okay, you've said that several times. It's not as if I don't believe it at all, Seungcheol. I don’t really get what you’re trying to say.”

“God.” He puts his face into his hands and stays there for one very awkward, charged moment. When he lifts his head again, though, he looks a little calmer. “You just... act, sometimes, like me taking care of you is this huge burden on me. It isn't.” He takes a deep breath. “I like taking care of you, Y/N. Seriously.”

He's said that twice now. That means, logically, that it's probably true. Logically. But mentally, your brain has decided not to compute it properly. “Uh.” You try your best to hold his very intense gaze. “I gotta ask—why would you ever enjoy taking care of my bitch ass?”

Seungcheol almost laughs. You can see it. You can fucking see it and it's more of a relief than anything else, honestly, to see him able to laugh.

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” he asks, now smiling slightly.

You blink. “Spell what out?”

“Y/N.” He steps closer, and suddenly you become much more aware of the very short distance between the two of you. You were already cutting it kind of close before in this little entryway, and now you're even closer. “I like taking care of you because I like you.”

I like you.

Oh. Oh wow. Okay. That's certainly—a statement. A very strange one. One that could be taken—in a myriad of ways, certainly. Probably he meant it in a friendly way. Like, as in he likes you as a good friend and likes taking care of you that way.

But even the idiot part of your brain knows you'd be stupid to think that with the way he's looking at you right now.

“Uh.” Your voice is a lot squeakier than you'd like it to be. “You don't, uh, mean it, like, in, um, a friend way. Right?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, I don't.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. You're probably going to have an aneurysm. Okay, he confirmed it which means your brain can stop being a fucking stupid idiot now, he confirmed it and there is literally no reason for him to lie.

Okay, but what if—

“You're not lying to me, right?”

Seungcheol blinks. “Why would I lie to you about this?”

Exactly. Shut up, brain. You smile. It probably looks somewhat insane. “Sorry. Brain being stupid. But. Uh. Let me get this straight.” You take a deep breath that feels a little too shaky when it comes out. “You like me.”

Seungcheol doesn't even bat an eye. “Yes.”

Oh. Okay. Wow. You close your eyes for a long moment. Maybe this is a dream. But when you open them, Seungcheol is still there.

Probably not a dream, then.

You take a deep breath. “Okay, so—you, Choi Seungcheol of the gym bros—”

“I'm not a gym bro.”

“—You go to the gym every day, you're definitely a gym bro—of the men who own cats, of perfect abs and bringing me coffee when I haven't seen the light of day for a week, like me, Y/N, writer gremlin extraordinaire and stupid bitch supreme.” You pause. “Did I get that right?”

“You're not stupid.” Seungcheol frowns. “Also, when did you see my abs?”

Your mind chooses then to very conveniently place the memory of Hobak dragging several sheets to the floor while clawing Seungcheol's shirt up at the forefront of your memory. Horrible. Terrible. You're going to have to have your therapist order you a brain transplant sometime soon.

“You kinda rolled over in your sleep at one point and dropped half the blankets to the floor.” It's kind of funny watching Seungcheol's face redden with embarrassment. Or at least it would be if you weren't internally screaming as much as you currently are. “And then Hobak was sleeping on top of you but woke up so he dragged the rest of them with him and in the process he kinda rolled your shirt up and you flashed me.”

Seungcheol is very red. Redder than you've ever seen him. And you've seen him drunk. Also very sick.

Before your brain can tell you to shut the fuck up, your mouth decides to speak again. “I covered you with the blanket. Promise.”

“Oh God.” Seungcheol puts his face back in his hands. “This is…”

“Look, you just said that you liked me,” you protest. “I feel like this is a fair trade. Or something.”

He looks up at you, deadpan. “A confession for... what exactly? The reveal of an ab reveal?”

“Oh come on, you go to the gym every day and anyone can see the results. You having abs would probably be the least surprising thing ever.” You scoff, very blatantly ignoring the fact that you were extremely surprised for zero reason about him having ridiculously sculpted abdominal muscles.

Seungcheol groans. “This is a terrible conversation.”

“As I'm pretty sure most conversations with me are.” You smile widely. It definitely looks insane because you don't know what else to do and when that happens all you end up able to do is smile like a serial killer. “Are you rethinking your past words?”

“No!”

You jump. Seungcheol also seems to realize the volume of his words because he kind of cringes into himself. “Sorry. But no, I'm not.”

This is terrible. Not even a ridiculously horrible conversation with you and your over caffeinated, sleep deprived brain is deterring him. You ignore the therapist voice part of your brain that asks why you want to deter him and look him straight in the eye. “Why?”

Seungcheol blinks. “What?”

“Why.” You gesture vaguely to the air. “Why do you like me, even now?”

“What do you mean, even now?” Seungcheol raises an eyebrow and oooh, this is terrible, he's taking another step closer and there's probably like two feet of distance at most separating your bodies. Vaguely you remember that you haven't even stepped out of the entryway, that you're both still standing right in front of the door. “Your conversations are a very physical manifestation of you, and I like you. So why would talking with you change my mind?”

“Okay, when you put it like that, it makes sense.” You huff. “But also, my brain can't exactly wrap its mind around the fact that someone with their life so put together at almost all times likes me, a...” A meme gif that Soonyoung once sent you pops into mind. It was a blue dumpster set on fire floating down what you presumed was a flooded street. It seems to fit the situation. “A certified dumpster fire that’s floating down a flooded street.”

Seungcheol laughs. He actually laughs and you don't know what to do with it. He looks ridiculously cute and it's doing unhealthy things to your heart—like making it skip beats or some shit. “Where do you keep getting these things?”

“Soonyoung.”

“Figures.” He shakes his head. “You may be a certified dumpster fire, but you're also very much... Y/N. A kind, wonderful, amazing person who writes extremely well and has a way with words that makes me cry, who always tries their best in everything they set out to do, who makes a really amazing sick person soup that I would eat even if I wasn't sick.”

He's smiling now and it's doing even worse things to your heart. You never liked the metaphor of someone's heart beating out of their chest because it reminded you a little too much of panic attacks, but now you kind of feel like you need to use it because there's nothing else to explain this feeling. At least it's being used in a situation where you are very much not about to have a panic attack.

Seungcheol's continuing. He's continuing with no regard for your sanity and you can't even stop him because your throat is refusing to allow you to speak. “I like that you're self-aware, Y/N, and I like that you're honest. But I also think that you never really understand that you're capable of a lot more than you give yourself credit for.” His smile softens.

That’s it. You're going to need him to pay your hospital bills. And therapy bills. Actually, your therapist might need to bill him because he's all you’re going to be able to talk about for several sessions straight, just your really hot editor and his really cute smile.

“You're brilliant, you're smart, and you're funny and kind, and really, I don't see how anyone couldn't like you.” Seungcheol looks a little nervous now but he keeps going. “Honestly.”

You open your mouth. And then close it, mostly because you think if you try to say anything you're going to make some noise that is extremely reminiscent of a dying whale. It takes you a second to compose yourself and get rid of the stupid lump growing in your throat but finally, you've convinced your brain that you are sane enough to speak—

“My therapist is going to hear about you.”

Oh God. Oh fucking God. You really just said that. And you've scared Seungcheol, look at his big eyes, what the fuck is wrong with you why are you such a monster—

“Uh.” He blinks. “Why?”

You blink too and it surprises you to realize that there are tears beginning to form behind your eyes. This is worse than you thought it would be.

“Because you're hot and sweet and kind and you always take care of me even though technically you're just my editor and like I've talked to my therapist about the hot gym bro editor in the office before but that was mostly because we were like, friends or something, and I was worried that you were doing too much for me and I wasn't doing enough for you so then she told me about friendships being a two way street and that I'm definitely not the one forcing you into taking care of me so you're probably doing it of your own volition. And we worked on enforcing that for my brain for a while but that was in a friend context and I never told her that I had a kind of dumb stupid kid crush on you but now you're telling me you actually like me as something that is not a friend and you are complimenting me and holy shit I have so much to unpack.” You take a deep, shaky breath. “My therapist is going to hear about this for the next twenty sessions and she's going to get sick of hearing me talk about you and your smile so she's going to have to bill you because you’re the one who did this to me.”

Great, you're really crying now. Shoving the heels of your palms into your eyes in a botched attempt to stop the tears, you try to breathe. “Pay my fucking hospital bills, dipshit, you're going to send me into cardiac arrest.”

“How about I try something else instead of paying your hospital bills?” Seungcheol's voice sounds above you, light, amused, entirely too sweet for your brain to handle. And then—as if that wasn't fucking enough—two warm arms begin to encircle your body, slow, slow, and you know this is Seungcheol's way of reminding you that you could back away at any point and he won't take offense, but it feels really fucking good to be hugged right now so you let him wrap you up tight against his chest, your head knocking against his shoulder. “Is this okay?”

“... I'm going to cry into your shirt.”

Seungcheol laughs. His chest kind of rumbles with the sound and it feels ridiculously soothing to your still rapidly beating heart. “That's fine,” he says. “I think I coughed on your clothes a lot more when you were taking care of me.”

“Yeah. About that.” You swallow, choking back another round of tears. “Why were you so pissed about me taking care of you? You'd do the exact same thing for me. You already do the exact same thing for me.”

“... I don't think I've ever taken care of you when you were sick to oblivion, Y/N.”

“You bring me coffee like clockwork every three days when I descend into writer gremlin oblivion and force me to eat, sleep, and shower.” You gulp. “That's how I knew something was wrong with you. Five days passed and you didn't come.” You blink. “Oh, also Jeonghan said you didn't come in to work that day.”

“Yeah, I know. You told me, remember?” And vaguely you do remember, which should probably make you feel embarrassed at having repeated knowledge to Seungcheol who apparently still retains information even when his brain is working at twenty five percent capacity, but now he's patting the back of your head and you kind of just want to space out into the void. “And... I just, I know how you are sometimes. I know how you try to take care of yourself, but even then, I know your immune system can be kind of shit.” Seungcheol sighs. “I got worried that you got sick because of me, and I really hated that, and then you weren’t answering my texts for a while...”

“I had a deadline.” You blink. “I still have it.”

“I know. But I also wasn't thinking properly.” He pulls you a bit closer and it makes you want to cry harder. This is too sweet. Too nice. Too comfortable. Too much Seungcheol, you’re drowning in him. “It's kind of hard to think properly around you, you know.”

“I live in my own brain, Seungcheol.” You let out a very wet laugh. “I don't think properly around me. Ever.”

“Touché.” He joins your laugh. “But in my case, it's because you're sometimes a little too brilliant.”

“Or because I talk a little too fast,” you reply in an effort to deflect because if you let yourself process how sweet that was you’re going to probably die right here and now.

“That too.” He pats your back. “But mostly the first reason.”

His admission forces you to process it, which brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes and now you're getting snot on his shirt instead of just saltwater. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I'm feeling a lot of emotions right now.”

“I can tell.” You can't bring yourself to look up at him just yet, but you're certain you hear a smile in Seungcheol's voice. “It's okay. I'm feeling a lot of emotions too.”

“You're not crying, though.”

“Just because I'm crying doesn't mean I'm not feeling anything.” He pulls back just enough that you look up again to whine about why, but then you lock eyes with him and every word in your throat dies. “Remember? You're the one who said crying was an overused tool to make characters show emotion.”

Fuck. You did say that. You said that on like your second time meeting him when you went off on a rant about cliches and tropes and ended with the caveat that while they can be done well, some people just overuse them for the heck of it and you hate it. “I can't believe you remember that fucking rant,” you mutter.

“I remember a lot of things about you.” Seungcheol smiles. Your heart is on its way to beating out of your chest again. “Sorry, was that too cheesy?”

“Yes,” you snap, but Seungcheol's smile only widens. “Stop it. You're going to send me into cardiac arrest for the second time.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Second time?”

“Yeah, the first was when I saw your abs.”

That was a terrible thing to say. Horrible. For you and for Seungcheol. You because you can't get the image out of your brain for the nth time, and Seungcheol because his ears are turning red again.

“… Sorry.”

“It's... fine.” Seungcheol coughs a little, but it doesn't sound like a sick cough. More like a clearing his throat cough. It sounds kind of shy, which is very cute. “Sorry. I'm just kind of... shy about it.”

You blink. “Why are you shy about your fucking abs?”

“I just am.” Seungcheol pouts and you kind of want to slap it off. Or kiss it. Or both. None of those choices are probably a good idea at the moment.

Silence kind of falls for a moment. It's not that uncomfortable. The tension from before is gone, at least. But then Seungcheol has to ruin it with his sweet little voice and sweet little smile. Bastard.

“I don't think you ever responded to my confession,” he says, once again trapping you with his dark eyes that you can't seem to look away from in times like these.

You make a very intelligent noise. It sounds something like 'uh.'

“I said I like you.” Seungcheol is taking no prisoners now. Actually, he'll have your heart soon if he keeps looking at you like this. “Do you have anything to say to that?”

“... I told you already that I had a dumb kid crush on you.”

Seungcheol shrugs. “Does that dumb kid crush mean you still like me too?”

You stare at him for a moment. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

He grins. “Yeah.”

“You're a terrible human being, Choi Seungcheol.” You jab a finger into his chest, which was absolutely the wrong thing to do because it is hard and muscled and now you're having bad thoughts again. About abs. “I feel like a fucking middle schooler,” you mutter. “I like you.”

“Could you say it again?” Your jaw drops as Seungcheol looks at you, all doe-eyed and innocent with so much evil brimming behind that sweet expression. A true demon in disguise. “I didn't really hear you.”

You stare at him for one second. Two. Three.

It's like it happens in slow motion. You watch your arm shoot out, fingers grabbing a fistful of the front of Seungcheol's shirt. You watch yourself jerk the arm back, see Seungcheol's eyes widen for a just a moment before—

You're kissing him. You're kissing Choi Seungcheol, your editor, your good friend, the boy you just nursed back to health like three days ago, the guy you've had a dumb idiot crush on for longer than is probably healthy and who apparently has a dumb idiot crush on you too.

Seungcheol makes this small noise into your mouth and your brain promptly goes blank.

When you come to, you've both pulled away, somehow, and you're trying to breathe properly. Which is an ordeal, considering you just kissed Seungcheol—you just kissed Seungcheol—and remembering that in and of itself is taking all of your brainpower. There's none left for air.

“I like you, Seungcheol,” you say too loudly and too clearly, but it's worth it for the sparkly doe-eyed look that burst full force into Seungcheol's expression. Yeah. The imminent cardiac arrest is totally worth it.

Wait. Cardiac arrest. Your mind whirls. Hospital. Sick.

Seungcheol was sick two days ago.

“Oh, shit.”

Seungcheol blinks like he's just come back to Earth. “What?”

You try for a sheepish smile. “So, uh. What are the chances of me getting sick, now that I've kissed you?”

(You succumb to chills, snot, and a light fever exactly one day after your deadline has passed. Seungcheol arrives with an overnight bag, plenty of disinfecting wipes, and several surgical masks that he wears the entire time he's here. Which is nice because he shouldn't get sick a second time, but also terrible because you can't kiss him.

It's okay, though. Because when you're finally feeling well once more, the two of you go to meet your publisher at the office, and Seungcheol doesn't let go of your hand the whole way there. And when you leave, in full view of the entire lobby and all of your friends parked at various angles around it—

He kisses you. Once, soft, light, gentle.

Someone gasps. Someone else screams.

Grinning widely, you pull him in for a second one immediately after.)

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for me. I need help. I write for too many groups my head is spinning. also I am still coughing. I hate it here)

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[horangslay]

Cheolie fire engine RED & Wooza long blond hair I'm actually dead on the floor guys I need to be revived

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