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𝟓:𝟒𝟕 𝐀𝐌 | 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔.

you’re not too sure what time it is, but you know it’s early when osamu lays himself over you, head digging into your chest as he steals your warmth. you groan, wrapping your arms around him as you pull the blanket higher over your bodies.

“what time is it?”

“almost six,” he hums. it’s quiet for a moment, you seem to be drifting back to sleep, and osamu grins in victory against your shirt that all’s gone according to plan as he drifts off himself.

until you speak up.

“wait a second. aren’t you supposed to be on the couch?” his body freezes for a moment before he’s clutching onto you tightly while you’re trying to shove him off. “samu! get off!”

“no!”

“i’m serious, i’m still mad at you,” you huff. he frowns (though it’s more of a pout) and simply shakes his head.

“‘m not lettin’ go. ma back hurts. i’m cold too.”

“miya osamu—”

and before you can finish your sentence, there’s a soft bite at your chin that makes you stop.

“don’t call me by ma full name,” he grumbles, settling back down into your chest. “‘s rude.” he has the audacity to grab your hand and plop it into his hair too, gesturing at you to play with the dark brown strands.

“did you just bite me?”

“and what if i did?” comes his quiet mumble, voice muffled by your shirt.

last night wasn’t exactly a big fight, it was a petty one if the both of you were being honest, but osamu should’ve admitted he was wrong, and his attitude was what landed him a spot on the couch. and to his dismay, you seem to fall asleep much easier without his embrace than he does without yours.

“what do you—you bit me,” you repeat incredulously. you smack his shoulder when he snickers quietly at your shock.

“didn’t even hurt, ya drama queen.” and you want to keep your facade of being mad, you want to tell him to go back to the couch until you’ve deemed he’s earned his spot back, but something about the way he nuzzles into you and kisses your collarbone before trying to fall asleep makes you give in.

he’s stubborn, you’ve come to know this a tad bit too well, but he’s also gentle. he plants one more spoonful of dinner to your plate when you tell him to stop, he pulls the sun visor down for you when the light shines in your face as he drives, he wakes up and puts socks on your feet when they feel like icicles against his calves, and he’s the only person who easily forgives you for your own stubbornness too—every time, without fail.

so you wrap your arm tightly around him, stroking through his locks as you mumble “you’re such a weirdo, you know that?”

“well, ‘s just the way i am, deal with it,” he mumbles back. and then you giggle, he laughs, you kiss his forehead, and he kisses your jaw—and you’re back to your usual routine, last night all forgotten.

“i love you,” you whisper.

“love ya too. and i also love yer cheeks, ‘m bitin’ them next.”

still firmly believe osamu’s love language is biting

11:50 pm / b.sk

pairing: boo seungkwan x reader pronouns: not specified word count: 1.6k genre: fluff, sickfic, crush confessions, sharing a bed, friends to lovers, lots of pouty seungkwan warnings: seungkwan has a cold, seungkwan is insecure and it makes me so sad but reader reassures him okay note: this started as reader being sick but then I saw a compilation of seungkwan crying and said no it's comfort seungkwan time bc he deserves the world i want to give him a Hug so bad

masterlist

Seungkwan smiled forcefully at the joke being told, face wincing in pain softly. Maybe you only noticed because of how head-over-heels you were for him, but the others in the room continued their loud conversation as you turned to Seungkwan. 

“Are you okay?” 

He breathed out quickly and pouted, tilting his head. “I don’t feel very good.” 

“Are you getting sick?” you asked, placing the back of your hand on his forehead, then his cheek, testing the temperature of his skin against your own. You frowned, so worried about how hot his skin was that you put your other hand on your own forehead to see if a healthy person would feel that warm. “You should get some rest,” you suggested. 

He shook his head, pouting, but his heavy eyelids and furrowed brows as he sank further into the couch against you told you that he was close to complying with whatever you asked. 

“Come on,” you urged, nudging his arm. “You’ve been working a lot. It could just be from that, but you feel warm and you haven’t been sleeping well anyway.” 

“Who told you that?” he asked, guilt flooding his features. 

“No one, I just pay attention to you.” 

He laughed through his nose weakly and smiled, eyes blinking slowly with sleep. “Cute.” 

You shook your head, standing up and holding your hands out. “Come on, Kwan. Bedtime.” 

“You’re going to bed?” Seokmin asked, interrupting his own story when someone finally notice you and Seungkwan having your own side-adventure. “It’s not even midnight!” 

“I think Seungkwan’s getting sick. I’m making him go lay down.” 

“That’s probably for the best. He hasn’t slept at all this week,” Jihoon commented. 

“Hey, don’t tell on me,” Seungkwan pouted. “I’m going now, okay?” 

“Are you coming back?” Vernon asked, his hoodie covering most of his face as he curled up on the couch half-asleep already. 

“Yeah, I’m just making sure he actually goes to sleep first.” 

“Feel better Kwannie,” Seokmin begged as he puckered his lips in his friend’s direction. Seungkwan pretended to catch the air kiss and placed it on his heart as you led him out of the dorm and to his own. 

It only took dragging Seungkwan up one flight of stairs to reach his dorm and fighting him over whether he should eat or not (you were adamant he at least eat something small since you hadn’t seen him consume food at all that day, and you had been with him since the morning. He just pouted and said his tummy hurt too much. He won.) before he was finally laying in his bed with his pajamas on and covers up. 

“I’ll be right back,” you promised, venturing to his bathroom to find a thermometer before returning to his room. 

“This feels unnecessary,” he grumbled when you poked his back and made him take his temperature.

“What happened to health being important to you?” you teased and he shrugged half-heartedly. 

“I’m too tired to care.” 

You took the thermometer back and grabbed the correct medicine from his bathroom cabinet before returning to him again with a glass of water. 

“Sit up,” you ordered, handing him the medicine, vitamin C, and water after he slowly pulled himself up. 

He handed you the empty glass and you set it on the nightstand. “Will I live, Doctor?” he asked and you laughed lightly, nodding emphatically. 

“I think so. Sorry that you don’t feel good. I’m sure you’ll feel a lot better after getting some rest,” you said as you pushed some of his bangs away from his eyes. “It seems like you only have a small cold so it will hopefully go away soon if you keep taking medicine.” 

“Thanks for taking care of me,” he thanked softly, looking down at where you had grabbed his hand without realizing it. He was playing with your fingers gently and it was weirdly comforting. 

“No problem, Kwan.” 

“Do you really pay attention to me?” he asked quietly and you felt your whole body freeze for a moment at the sudden question. 

“Of course, I do. I care about you a lot.” 

“Why?” 

You noticed that he was specifically not looking at you; his eyes fixated on your hands, then the wall, then the comforter over his legs. 

Your heart broke slightly at the sudden insecurity you could now see all over him, in his expression and body language and laced in his voice. It wasn’t just a curious question, it was him doubting being someone others cared for. He rarely was anyone but the loud, charming, outgoing, happy, and expressive Seungkwan that everyone saw, and you had a feeling that you were the only one who got to see this version of him. The version that was insecure and doubtful and holding so much weight on his shoulders. 

It suddenly occurred to you that the months of you hinting at your crush on him would go completely unnoticed forever unless you told him directly. So you did. 

“Because I like you.”

He looked up quickly, shock evident in his raised eyebrows and parted lips. “Me?” he repeated. “W-why?”

“Why?” you laughed. “Are you kidding? Seungkwan, you’re a catch and I hang out with you so much, it shouldn’t be shocking that I’d catch feelings for someone like you.” 

“Someone like me?” he repeated your words, confused. “But.. why would you like me when you also hang out with people like Min–” 

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to anyone,” you cut him off sternly. “I like you. I’m sorry if that makes things weird between us, but of course I care about you and want to take care of you because you always take care of everyone else and you need to be looked after too.” 

Seungkwan’s ears were red, his head ducked down as he hid his face in one of his hands, the other still loosely holding onto your fingers. That was a good sign. At least he wasn’t being weird. 

“Are you sure I just have a cold?” he mumbled into his hand. “This feels like a fever dream.” 

“What?” you laughed. 

“I can’t believe you like me. I… you’re so cute,” he smiled, peeking at you through his fingers. 

You pulled his hand away from his face, admiring the soft pink in his cheeks. “You need some rest, sick boy.” 

“You’re not even going to let me tell you how I feel?” he asked, a shy smile that didn’t match his teasing tone as you stood up and lifted the covers for him to slide back under. You tucked the blankets under his chin and shook your head. 

“Nope. I’m too scared for the reply.” 

“Oh, who’s the insecure one now? I like you too, weirdo.” 

It didn’t come as a complete surprise – you had some suspicion which is why you were able to confess to him so easily with no plan – but that didn’t make hearing the words any less flustering. 

“You’re really going to leave me here alone after telling me you like me and knowing I like you back?” 

Like you back. 

You liked hearing those words together in that order. It was nice. 

“You have a cold, I’m not kissing you or anything.” 

“I wasn’t asking that. I just want to cuddle,” he pouted, and, like always, you were weak to his frown. “I was going to ask you anyway since I’m sick and weak and cold and need attention and love and–” 

“Just for a few minutes,” you bargained, smiling at his soft cheer as he lifted the covers for you to join him under. He immediately wrapped his arms around your waist like he always did and buried his face in your neck. “You’re so hot,” you complained at the instant warmth covering your body wherever your limbs touched. 

He giggled. “I know you think so, you just told me you like me.”

“Not like that,” you laughed, poking his side and making him squirm. “Okay, yes like that, but that’s not what I mean right now.”

“But you’re so comfortable,” he whined when you shifted. “Please stay just a little bit?” 

You sighed, threading your fingers through his hair as your other hand rested on his upper back. “Just for a little bit.” 

After a few moments of silence, when you hoped he had fallen asleep after days of not resting, he spoke up again, saying your name softly. 

“Can… you tell me what you do like about me?” he mumbled into your neck.

You smiled widely, pressing a kiss to his hair. That was a topic you could talk his ear off about, and you were more than happy to bore him to sleep telling him all the things you liked and admired about him. 

BONUS: 

Vernon yawned and turned his head to look at the clock. You had taken Seungkwan to his room more than an hour ago and you still weren’t back. He knew Seungkwan could be stubborn, but not that stubborn that he would fight you about going to bed, especially since he was nearly falling asleep when you dragged him out of the dorm. 

“Can they hurry up?” he groaned softly. “I wanted to ask them about something.” 

“About their friend?” Jeonghan teased as he kicked the younger boy’s leg.

Vernon glared at Jeonghan before standing up and shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. “I’m gonna go see if something happened or they left or something.” 

Vernon took the steps up two at a time and walked in when he got to Seungkwan’s dorm. He didn’t hear any bickering or crying or anything other than the sound of the night, so he assumed you had left. When he cracked open Seungkwan’s bedroom door to see you two curled up together, fast asleep, he decided his questions could wait another day. 

✶ seventeen when you take your promise ring off during a fight

ft. vocal unit

performance unit | hip hop unit

jeonghan: he tests the waters. the moments after a fight are always silent, the two of you tiptoeing around each other as to not turn a tentative ebb and flow into another tsunami, but the clatter of the ring still echoes in his ears, metal glinting through a single kitchen lamplight. the soft padding of his feet towards the countertop, the clink against granite as he picks up the ring, steady gaze meeting yours as he looks at you from across the room. the ring is still warm, still touched by your heat, and jeonghan wants to take it as a sign that this isn't the end. (it's silent still, when he walks over to you. his fingers ghost over yours, not in hesitation, but in breath-held confirmation—to see if you would flinch away, if you would run from the tide still trying to reach you.) you breathe out slowly, waves lapping at the shore, closing the gap between his fingers and yours.

joshua: he trusts you. you're in the shower when he finds the ring lying on the nightstand; joshua didn't even see you take it off. and it still stings, it does, salt on the wound from the fight barely an hour before, but he hears the water running from the bathroom, looks at the picture frame on the nightstand, and breathes. (when you come back from your shower there's still a towel folded neatly on the bed like there always is, ring sitting like how you'd left it. there's a security in love, joshua thinks. or perhaps, it's love that makes it secure.) joshua tells you "i love you" before he turns off the lights, even if you don't sleep in the same bed that night. you apologize the morning after, ring slipped back onto your finger.

jihoon: he remembers himself. jihoon wants to blame it all on the heat of the moment, the red-tinged blur of the world around him, his tongue forming words that come out harsher than he intends them to. it's habit, it's instinct, and he never really means it; jihoon knows this, as do you, but knowing ever rarely softens the blow when it strikes. you take a step back, maybe to help ease the way your heart drops, and your ring slips off; you can never truly take back an attack after it's met its target. (the words burn the second they come out of his mouth, ice freezing to his core, and he stops. it's quiet for a few moments after, dust settling, before jihoon opens his mouth to speak again. there's the leftover fried rice you'd made for him still on the stove, the grain of wood you had picked out together solid beneath his feet. he remembers. "i'm sorry.") jihoon can never take back a blow, but he can at least try to mend the wounds, if you let him. (you always do.)

seokmin: he cries. the minute the argument starts seokmin is already uneasy, eyes darting nervously at the clock, at the tiles, at the plant tucked away at the windowsill you'd gotten him last summer, anywhere but you. he tells himself he'll look at you once his heart has calmed down, once he stops feeling the heat behind his eyes, but every glance at you only pulls at his stomach, tamped down heat springing back up. seokmin hates this—he hates the energy, he hates the frustration, he hates that he's not making you smile. seokmin needs to solve this now. he can't go to sleep like this, not when you're still mad and the issue still hasn't been solved and—(you pull the ring off. you are just so tired.) the first tear slips down his cheek, followed by a second, then a third, and then he loses count. (what are you saying? he wants to ask. do you really mean it?) you don't. of course you don't. so you put the ring back on, let him cry into your chest and clutch at the back of your shirt until he knows for certain you're not leaving. (you say good night first, even when you sleep in the guest bedroom that night; the warmth of your kiss still lingers on his forehead.)

seungkwan: he wears his heart on his sleeve. you can see it all on his face—the stubborness in his forehead, indignancy in his eyes, his lip set in a jut you find all too familiar. you say one thing and seungkwan says another and suddenly your only thought is you need your ring off. it's done rashly, in frustration-clouded judgement, but when you walk over and drop the abandoned ring into his open palm, how else is he supposed to take that but that it's the end? seungkwan takes your hand and sits you down at the kitchen table, tries to fumble his way through his words because for the first time he can't find the words to fix this, he doesn't know what to say to make things right. jaw set, you manage to tear your eyes away from the wooden floor to look at him, teary-eyed and lip quivering and still choking out his words, and in the corner of your eye you see the basket of tangerines his mother had given you days ago. (they were sent all the way from jeju-do, the same ones she'd told you you would love. the same way seungkwan loved them, the same way he loved you.) loves, you amend, tension unraveling, your sleeve tugged down as you lean forward to dab away seungkwan's overflowing tears with a fond smile and sigh. (just like you love him.)

2:00am / k.sy

pairing: kwon soonyoung x reader pronouns: not specified word count: 1.1k genre: fluff, soonyoung is flirty bc he's drunk but also bc he likes reader, weirdo and idiot used as terms of endearment <3 warnings: tipsy/drunk soonyoung note: flirty!kissy!drunk!soonyoung is canon, we've seen the ttt episodes. he is endearing to me I want to put him in my pocket.

masterlist

Soonyoung laughed loudly, throwing his head back against the chair, as you shushed him. 

“You’re going to wake everyone up,” you scolded, small laughs escaping past your lips and making your words less threatening. 

Soonyoung lifted his head and wiped away tears dramatically, though they definitely could have been real with how hard he was laughing. “Then stop making me laugh.” 

“I didn’t even say anything funny, you’re just sleep-deprived. Did you guys go drinking?” 

He giggled more, trying to calm down. “Everything you say is just funny. You’re just so cute.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head at him, trying to change the subject. “You seriously need sleep. Didn’t you have practice all day? How are you not exhausted?”

“I am, but if I go to bed I won’t get to hang out with you.”

“Soonyoung,” you deadpanned. He responded to your stern voice with a lazy, charming smile. 

“You’re pretty.” 

You huffed, frustrated at his stubbornness and embarrassed by his compliments. “Go to bed, idiot. It’s almost two in the morning.” 

He bent awkwardly to look at the clock behind him, upside down as he read the digits. “It’s exactly two in the morning,” he corrected. 

“Then go to bed.”

He sat back up and stared at you with a soft and fond smile. “You’re really pretty.”

“You already said that.”

“But you didn’t say I was pretty.”

“You are conceited.” And pretty. “I don’t have to return compliments just because you decide to randomly throw them out.”

“I’m not just throwing them out. I mean it. You’re really pretty. I don't think you're told enough just how pretty you are.” 

“You definitely went drinking, didn't you?” 

Soonyoung scrunched his face and held his hand up, his thumb and pointer finger nearly touching as he looked at you through the gap. “Maybe a little.” 

“I knew it, you’re always flirty when you’re drunk.” 

“I’m always flirty with you, you just never notice,” he yawned before grinning up at you with his eyes closed as you made your way over to help him stand up. 

“Come on,” you held your hands out for him to take. “Bedtime.” When he stared up at you blankly with slightly wide eyes, you knew he was more than ‘a little’ drunk. “Soonyoung. You need sleep.” 

“Carry me?” he smiled sweetly as he lifted his arms. You laughed, grabbing his hands and pulling him up to his feet. 

“Don’t push your luck, weirdo. You’re lucky I’m not leaving you to sleep on the hard floor or just kicking you out of my apartment altogether.” 

You tried to pass off the way he leaned into you as an effect of being drunk and not being able to hold his weight, but something told you he was intentionally resting his head on yours as you walked him to your room. 

“Taking me to your bedroom?” he said in surprise, lifting his head and suddenly seeming more awake. “So bold of you. So presumptuous of you. It going to take a little more than that to get me out of my pants–” 

“Idiot,” you mumbled, letting him fall onto your bed, smiling at the little ‘oof’ he let out. “I was going to give you some of my sweatpants to change into so you don’t sleep in jeans, but never mind. I hope your jeans leave weird marks on you when you wake up.” 

As you turned to leave, Soonyoung called your name. “Can you tuck me in? I want to be tucked into bed.” 

He was already pulling the covers back to get under, so you complied seeing as he was already trying to go to sleep. He wasn’t being stubborn, so you could do this for him if he really wanted you to.

You pulled the covers over him, feeling bad that he really was sleeping in jeans. You didn’t want the embarrassment from comments he’d make if you suggested he actually take off his pants, even if they were going to be replaced with a different pair.Drunk Soonyoung was too endearing and you needed to get away from him as quickly as possible and with as few flirty comments as possible. 

Soonyoung pulled the covers up to his chin and smiled boyishly at you, sleepily mumbling a thank you for taking care of him. 

“Yeah, whatever. You owe me lunch tomorrow for this.” 

Leaning down, you placed a quick kiss on his forehead to play into you taking care of him, which made his eyes open quickly. You stood up at his shock, feeling embarrassed for no reason especially when he grabbed your hand.

“Can I have a goodnight kiss?” he asked softly. 

“I just gave you one,” you breathed out in a laugh. 

“No,” he lifted his other hand to poke his lower lip, which was now set in a pout. “Like a real goodnight kiss.” 

“Yup, you’re definitely more than a little drunk,” you teased, ruffling his hair and trying to avoid his question. You needed to leave. 

“Please,” he begged, placing his other hand on top of yours and swinging your arm gently. “Please, please, please? I promise I’ll go to bed right after. I can’t sleep without a goodnight kiss.”

“Oh? Then who normally gives you goodnight kisses? Wonwoo or Jihoon?”

“Dokyeom.” 

You couldn’t tell if that was a joke, but it made you laugh either way. You could believe it.

“But I want one from you. Just one,” he bargained, lifting one finger up to visualize his simple request. “Just one tiny little kiss so I can have a peaceful, good sleep.” 

“Soonyoung, you’re drunk. I’m not kissing you while you’re drunk.” 

“What if I told you this isn’t just drunk thoughts? I want to ask to kiss you all the time, especially when I’m suuuuper sober.” 

You breathed out a laugh, taking your hand away and patting his head as he pouted, accepting his defeat. “Then I’m definitely not kissing you. I don’t want you to forget our first kiss.”

“I would never forget kissing you,” he said with a cheesy smile and crinkled eyes.  

You smiled at his last attempt to persuade you, but your mind was already made up. “Goodnight, Soonyoung.” 

“You hate me,” he sighed dramatically. “Won’t even give me a goodnight kiss.”

You ignored him, continuing your well-wishes. “Sleep well, you still owe me lunch tomorrow for putting up with this.” 

“Will you kiss me tomorrow?” he asked hopefully, to which you laughed. 

“Only if you’re good and let me pick where we eat.” 

“Deal.” He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to go to sleep faster. 

The next day, after he woke up confused about being in your bed and complained about his headache, he remembered what happened the night before. When he hesitantly and shyly asked if he remembered correctly and had embarrassed himself, you simply smiled at him and told him to get ready to go to lunch. He had a promise to keep and so did you. 

so,,, head empty no thoughts, just: being a hardcore simp for suna? you're an inarizaki cheerleader, maybe? but he ignores tf out of you???? hes just not interested??? like, go be a miya twins fangirl, why are you a fangirl for him? smh. maybe atsumu sees you, you catch his eye. he points out to you at suna on one of their games. hes like, "damn suna, check it, that girl in the cheerleading team is hot." suna ignores him. pretends his best he doesn't know you. nope. not a single interaction at all. not like you've been pestering suna in class about how oh, you're such a good middle blocker! or that dreadfully horrible one you said yesterday it almost made him gag, suna-kun! spike me daddy (: ! and you laughed at him when he scowled, walking away from you. but atsumu, he says, "i should ask for her number, dontcha think sunarin?" this is where suna slips, he says "she doesn't like you" atsumu's like, "tf you mean ofc she likes me! she's a cheerleader for our team!" and finally he says, "nah man fuck off, she has a crush on me."

after the game when you come up to him as per usual, hes snarkier; it's annoying. you're annoying. it's annoying that you only laugh at him when he retorts something. tells you something mean. you grin at him and tell him he was so good today! congrats on the win! then you strut off in your short little cheerleader skirt, you dont even allow him to say anything back anymore.

god, so annoying. you are so annoying, he swears. but goddamn, as if he'd let atsumu get his hands on you.

svt feat. reductress headlines ; pt. 2/? ‘important news and practical life advice with woozi & co’