Do You Ever Get Friendlust. Like. You Just See Someone And Youre Like. Man. I Have Such A Friendcrush

do you ever get friendlust. like. you just see someone and you’re like. man. i have such a friendcrush on you. i wanna be ur friend so bad. i wanna be more than a friend. i wanna be a BEST friend u hear me. ur so cool. i admire u a lot and ur so funny. plz b my bffl. i will treat u right. let me be ur drake-friend. no other friend will treat u like i would

“jeonghan?”

your boyfriend is already looking at the doorway before you’re even hovering by it. he’d heard the padding of your sock-covered feet, and his head was already angled towards you in mild concern.

“hey, sleepyhead,” jeonghan greets, question in his voice. you’d announced your early night only a short while ago, and while he’ll never not love the sight of you sleepy-eyed and pouty, he’s a little confused. “what’s up?”

you’re crossing the room slowly, picking your way carefully through the lego pieces strewn over the floor. hugging a cardigan to your chest too — probably set the thermostat too low again, jeonghan thinks fondly. you never think to just raise the temperature.

“i like it.” you nod towards the plastic car he’s half-finished with as you sit yourself down on the sofa.

“thank you, baby. couldn’t sleep?” he leans back from where he’s been sitting on the floor; twists to brush lips over your cheek, and pick a thread off your jumper as he does so.

you hum incomprehensibly, already sprawling comfortably on the couch, draping a fluffy grey blanket over yourself. you glance at him once, a quick meeting of the eyes, and you look away, speaking shyly. “just… wanted to be nearer to you, i guess.”

the sentiment makes him a little warm on the inside. all sorts of gummy, syrupy feelings that bubble around happily when you say things like that. so casually and innocently loving.

“i could’ve moved there,” he remonstrates, soft and gentle when he brushes a hand over your cheek.

“s’okay,” you yawn, curling up to watch him with those gorgeous, sleepy eyes. “i’m perfectly happy over here.”

an / inspired by me being so so soooo sleepy. going to bed directly after posting this goodnight❣️ been doing such WEAK writing this past month (sorry i am just not with it recently)

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Seventeen as things mika has said to me:

Seungcheol:

Jeonghan:

Joshua: (she didnt say this to me but its funny ok)

Jun:

Hoshi:

Wonwoo:

Jihoon:

Dokyeom:

Mingyu:

Minghao:

Seungkwan:

Vernon:

Dino:

Bonus #1 (hoshi + woozi):

Bonus #2

@toruro ily

it’s early in the morning; the sky is still leaking vivid shades of orange and purple, and jun is still sleeping behind you.

you’re able to ignore the cold, when you step out onto the balcony. it’s only a slight breeze, caressing your bare shoulders and brushing through the distant trees.

“it’s pretty.”

jun’s voice doesn’t surprise you, even though you had been labouring under the delusion that he was still sleeping. instead, he comes up behind you, draping a blanket over your arms, and in doing that, settling himself against your back. arms around your middle, chin on your shoulder and lips pressed against your cheek in a quiet greeting.

“thanks,” you murmur, clutching onto the blanket.

he doesn’t respond to that, instead nosing into your neck — like a cat, you think fondly — and speaking with words that graze over your skin. “you’re up early.”

you lean back against him, echoing his previous words — “it’s pretty.”

you feel his chest rise with the anticipation of speaking, but before he can get there, you cut in: “if you say i’m prettier, i’m going back to bed. cheesy ass.”

that makes him giggle, nuzzling further into you. “i won’t say it,” he acquiesces, “but i’ll still think it.”

a comfortable silence settles then, stretching over who knows how long. time always seems to blur together when you’re with him. endless and fleeting all at once.

“i found it, you know,” you whisper, after that indefinite period of time. the sun’s brighter now, gorgeous hints of blue creeping across the sky.

jun doesn’t have to ask what it is. there’s only one it he can think of, and it lies inside a small, square box at the bottom of the laundry pile.

“fuck,” he groans defeatedly, pressing his face into the side of yours. “i’m so shit at hiding things, aren’t i?”

“kind of,” you agree, in a way that doesn’t quite reflect the bubbling happiness that stirs under your chest. “i didn’t look inside,” you add, threading a hand through his hair. “i thought i should give you at least one surprise.”

he turns you around then, gently by the shoulders, to kiss you. sweet and gentle, with his hands cupping your cheeks and head tilted to angle himself against your lips.

when you break away, you can’t help but succumb to the beam that threatens to break out over your face. you’re giddy with it — the promise of forever.

(the feeling doesn’t dissipate, even when jun does ask; one knee, in the kitchen at 3 in the morning, and you have to pretend to be surprised.)

an / me calling wen junhui bestie to conceal my very real romantic feelings for him

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Nah why does america have a city called Buston Massivehugetits 😭😭

“imagine,” you declare, with a magnificent sweep of the arm, “if we never met.”

wonwoo furrows his brows at those words. “why,” he begins finally, perplexion creeping into his voice, “would i want to imagine that?”

you shrug. lean over him to reach for the wooden spoon; it’s baking day, if 3 in the morning can be considered day. “i don’t know,” you say distractedly — the tip of your tongue slips out when you concentrate on scooping. “it’s a hypothetical question. what do you think you’d be doing? if we never met, and fell in love?”

there’s a comfortable ease in the way you say love. you know he means it; he knows you mean it.

“right now?” he casts a glance at the clock; he likes to tease you. “probably sleeping.”

you glance up then, features arranged blank and unimpressed. half-pout, half-scowl.

that’s not what gets him, though. what gets him is your eyes; soft. bright. they twinkle a little, or maybe it’s just the kitchen light, but whatever it is, it takes his breath away — just for one short, ephemeral moment. perfect, he thinks, as he looks at you. threadbare t-shirt, brownie mix on your arm, smudge of flour on your nose. and he’ll think it a hundred times more before the cakes are even out the oven.

“i love you.” he says it out loud, those three overworked words that sum up the jumble of images and words and intangible abstract commodities that breeze through his mind when he looks at you. the words feel insufficient sometimes — like now — but it’s the closest he can get.

you laugh, then, throwing a chocolate chip at him. “nerd.” a smile that’s teasing, but gentler at the edges. “i love you too.”

an / none of u understand the full extent of my feelings abt this man. UGHHH.

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