I Have A Couple WIPs (like14 At The Latest Count) And Idk What To Dooooo So Pls Help Me

I have a couple WIPs (like…14 at the latest count) and idk what to dooooo so pls help me

😭😭😭

HANI!!!!! This was so cute and so needed. The perfect way to celebrate being done with school!!!

hold me, please | s.coups

synopsis ; the last time you told someone that the thunder and lightning scared you, they made fun of you, which is why you hadn't told seungcheol. but maybe it's about time you tell him because looking at what the weather is like outside, you can't hide it any longer. you need him to embrace you, to keep you safe.

pairing ; scoups x fem reader (although no pronouns mentioned)

genre ; fluff, comfort.

word count ; 1.3k

warnings ; reader has astraphobia (fear of thunder and lightning), nicknames for reader (baby, my silly girl)

hani’s note ; well well well, yet another drabble of seungcheol cus that man never leaves my brain and i let him stay there like it's free real estate.

you’ve never been a ‘scaredy-cat’. not when seungcheol is around, no, because he never gives you the chance to feel that way.

he always makes you feel safe, never the opposite. always has an arm around your shoulders or a hand on your thigh.

sometimes, it’s you that’s looking for safety within seungcheol; whether that be your arm wrapped around his, you playing with his soft fingers — occasionally, his ears too — or his pinky and ring finger held in your hand.

and right now, seungcheol is your safety blanket.

the thunder claps loudly outside, lightning being its other half and illuminating the sky with a bolt that branches off into the vast sky. you cower further into the couch with fear, further into the corner you’re sat in beside seungcheol whose eyes are trained on the television.

the sound repeats again, light flashing through the window and casting a number of glows that appear and disappear rapidly.

should i ask…no, that’s not necessary. you can get through this. it’s only some loud sounds.

you’re trying so hard to suppress the urge to just crawl into seungcheol’s lap and bury your face in his chest. only some loud sounds you tell yourself again.

the same banging barges its way into your ears, making you flinch a little. trying to fight back the urge to tuck yourself into your seungcheol’s arms made you forget it was even happening.

the wind howls outside with force right after the thunder and you wonder what if something flies through the window right now and—

no, you can’t hold on any longer. you need seungcheol’s arms around you.

your hand reaches for the sleeve of seungcheol’s pink hoodie, tugging it as if to pull him closer to you. at the feeling of you pulling at his hoodie, he looks over at you.

seungcheol doesn’t know what you’re doing, he doesn’t know that you have a fear of thunder. maybe you should have told him…but you didn’t want to because you felt embarrassed about it, it’s stupid to be scared of thunder is what you told yourself.

“hey, what’s wrong?” seungcheol’s voice is heavy with worry. he doesn’t know why you’re reacting this way or what you’re even reacting like this towards.

he scans your face, waits patiently for you to answer while he immediately changes positions and moves closer to you.

“you…you don’t hear that?” you finally manage to let out.

“hear what, baby?”

this time, the cracking sound is louder and sounds as if it’s closer to you than ever. your hands fly to your ears, palms pressing against them to try and drown out the horrible sound.

“that!” your pointer finger pokes the air towards the windows but you can’t even have it in the air for long enough because the wind whistles just as loudly as the last sound of thunder and you smack your palm back on your ear.

“cheol, hold me, please. i’m so scared. what if the house blows down and we get stuck under the rubble forever or we get hit by lightning an—”

he pulls you into his side, hand going to stroke your hair in an effort to calm you down, “oh, my baby, why didn’t you just say so?”

“‘m sorry i didn’t tell you. i hate thunder, i hate it so much and i didn’t want to tell you ‘cus i was embarrassed,”

“it’s okay. i’ve got you, hm? cherry is always here to keep you safe and you can tell me these things. tell me what scares you, what makes you happy, okay? no need to be embarrassed.”

seungcheol is rubbing your arm all the while talking to you to keep you distracted from the sounds playing out beyond the walls of your home.

it’s gone quiet, neither of you talking but you shiver when you hear it again. the wind screaming, lightning setting the sky alight with a silver flash and thunder whipping the skies.

you yelp at the sudden sound and move closer into seungcheol’s side, the side of your head now on his chest. his heartbeat thumps against his rib cage, chest rising and falling. it’s calming, his heartbeat takes your attention away from whatever is happening beyond the walls of your home and shifts it to his steady pulse.

he rubs your back and plants a tender kiss in your hair. from the comforting massage and arm squeezes given by seungcheol, your (his) sweater has ridden up, allowing air to sneak up. the cool air is sliding across your skin and it becomes annoying so you quickly pull your (his) sweater back down to cover the exposed area of your hip.

“wanna go inside?” seungcheol asks. yes, you were already inside but by inside, he means your bedroom, “we can get cosy and warm if you want, hm?”

the idea is tempting: laying on seungcheol’s chest with his arm around you, warmth radiating off both of you.

tempting but you can’t even get up from your current position, so snug with your boyfriend’s arms around you, so warm. curled into a ball so tight, you dislike the idea of changing positions.

“i would love to but unfortunately, i can’t get up, i’m too comfortable like this,”

“oh, really?” seungcheol lets the question linger in the air for a moment before shifting you off himself and standing up before you. you whine at the loss of warmth and squishiness beneath you.

“where are you going? i’m cold now…”

he doesn’t even answer, instead hooking one arm beneath your knees and the other under your back. effortlessly — so effortlessly, as if you’re a feather — he lifts you up, your arms automatically find their way around his neck.

you squeal at the way he picks you up as if you weigh nothing, cheeks turning pink and hand covering your mouth. he stops in his tracks and stares at you. for seungcheol, the urge to kiss you right now is almost overwhelming but he doesn’t want to drop you to the floor.

so, you do it instead, lips pressing against his cheek and pulling back with a ‘mwah!’. seungcheol smiles, dimples on full display, just for you.

seungcheol continues to walk towards your bed, leaning you downwards so you can flip the covers over and out of the way before putting you down gently. he takes one side of the duvet and tucks it under you so that it can’t come out and so that the air can’t touch you again.

then, he walks around to the other side, practically jumping on the bed to get comfortable in the bed alongside you. seungcheol’s opposite hand pushes you forward slightly so that he’s able to rest the other behind you. it’s his favourite way to cuddle with you. one arm around your back, bringing you as close to him as possible and his free hand going to your lower back.

“better?” he asks, peering down at you.

you hum in response, “so much better,”

a blanket of silence spreads out over the room, both of you just relishing in each other’s presence until the silence is broken by none other than seungcheol and his soft snores. he fell asleep, it seems. his head is tilted back slightly against the headboard and his hair all mussed from the back.

and had started snoring too, chest moving up and down and puffs of air escaping his parted lips, quite cartoonishly at that.

the sight is so endearing that you almost burst at the seams, so much love and adoration in your eyes as you study his perfect facial features. plump and pink lips, button nose and long eyelashes fanning out over his full cheeks.

you crane your head up further and press your lips to his round cheek and he stirs, eyes opening a bit. it makes you giggle at the way he tries to fully open his eyes.

“what…what’s wrong, baby?” he questions groggily.

“nothing, you just look so cute knocked out like that,”

he laughs quietly, eyelids heavy with sleep and close to closing fully, “y’ so silly, go back to sleep, silly girl,”

“i’m the silliest person to you, aren’t i?”

“mhm, my silly girl.”

Witchcraft, Wisdom, Death...

I cannot that believe in this, the year of our lord & savior Boo Seungkwan, that I have to be making this post.

STOP. REPOSTING. OUR WORKS.

Most, if not all, of the writers I follow and am friends with DO NOT ALLOW REPOSTING. On my blog, you have to pass three posts that tell you not to repost, translate, or continue my works. It's also posted at the top of every one-shot, chapter, timestamp, and drabble. It's on all of my masterlists. It's on all of my masterposts. It's everywhere except in my description. Do not repost my work. Do not repost my writing. Do not repost my graphics. Do not repost anything on my blog that has that funky little C with the circle around it. ©️ Stop taking my intellectual property and posting it without my permission. I don't care if you credit me. You didn't ask and even if you did, I still don't allow it. That's 70k views, reblogs, and comments I'm missing out on cause you stole something that didn't belong to you. And your cute little note at the end telling the readers to visit my blog and "show them some love uwu" isn't going to encourage them to do so and you know it.

If I have to keep saying this shit, I'm just going to stop posting altogether. I'm sick of this shit happening to me, to my friends, and to everyone else on this site. We work hard on these stories. They don't just fall out of the sky or come out of our asses. Some of these stories have taken literal years for us to write. I just finished a sequel to a piece I wrote four fucking years ago and it's sitting at just over 18k. 18 thousand words. 18,000. Let that sink in. It's not easy to write that much. Hell, it's taken me 4 years to complete the damned thing. Four. Years. Not days. Not weeks. Not months. But YEARS. And it's incredibly disheartening when something that took me a long time is just copied and pasted to another website without my knowledge or permission.

Make your own fucking content and stop taking ours.

And on that note; STOP FUCKING STEALING GIFS, TOO.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. ✌🏻

UGH OKAY. this made me feel things I have never felt before. The yearning is so poignant. I’m in love.

hi!! i really love the way you write for wonwoo♡♡♡ could i request wonwoo+friends to lovers(something like she fell first but he fell harder kinda trope?)

thank you so much anon! also you're my first ever request! i hope i did this trope justice, because as much as i love established relationships i don't think i've ever really done much for friends to lovers.

crush — jeon wonwoo | 2,193 words | fluff

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

it hits wonwoo like a sledgehammer.

he's glad he's already sitting in his usual seat at the table, because there probably couldn't be a worse time to realize he's in love with you. when you're out on a date with someone else, and when these dates look like they're going to become a steady fixture in your life; something that he's going to have to learn how to make peace with.

wonwoo doesn't just love you. he's in love with you, and he's grappling with the realization of how many months he's missed without knowing the extent of his own feelings for you.

he wishes there was some manual that told him what to do when you had feelings for your roommate. when said roommate happened to be your best friend you'd try to ask out if you weren't so afraid of ruining the friendship.

since the end of high school and the beginning of college, wonwoo's always had you by his side — whether it be in the same classes, or the same friend group — hell, he's lost count of the number of nights you spent together, watching movies instead of trying to get some sleep for the next day.

(maybe there was a reason why he chose horror movies sometimes, even though you were scared of them.)

he thinks back to all the times your friends joked you were practically dating — that never annoyed him. he was merely surprised at the idea of dating you. you had always been his best friend; nothing more. you were a constant fixture in his life that he didn't see in any other way.

but now? wonwoo wishes he could turn back time and see what could have happened. would you have had the same inside jokes you do now, the same ease that comes with learning to co-exist by carving each other's shapes into your lives?

he looks up from his laptop at the sound of the wind rattling the windows. but he's the only one home.

you're out on your second date in the past two weeks with this guy named seungcheol. for the past two weeks, wonwoo hasn't been able to put a finger on why he hasn't been so keen on this guy you're seeing, despite the fact that seungcheol sounds like nothing but a gentleman.

and now he knows why.

he's heard a lot about how funny and smart and nice seungcheol is, from taking you to your favourite restaurant for a date to leaving you at your doorstep at the end of your night out.

wonwoo wants to argue that he, too, does the same thing for you. he holds doors open for you and gives you his beanie when you're cold and lets you have his popcorn when yours is done, but you just don't see him that way. and he doesn't know what to do to make you see him that way.

he focuses on his laptop again. the words all seem jumbled, and he's pretty sure he's been on the same page for the past half hour. so he takes his glasses off and lets his eyes rest. only to remember the time you took his glasses off when he was almost about to fall asleep on the sofa.

you're loving. it's something he's learned from you. you're always looking out for others, always concerned, wanting them to know you're there in the subtlest ways possible.

wonwoo always wants you around, and now has an irrational worry that he won't have you for much longer. his heart starts hurting — really, physically hurting, like a deep pain in his chest that can't be satiated by anything. he didn't know it was possible, but it's all he can feel right now.

he tries to think about anything else. those few people he'd dated back in college, whose names he can't even remember now. he hasn't dated anyone in the past two years since you graduated, got a job and moved into this flat together.

wonwoo hadn't known what to expect when it came to living with you, because as much as you were best friends, you'd never shared a living space together beyond a night's time. now over the course of the last twenty five months, he's become accustomed to you, and he's afraid he's ruined it all by realizing he's fallen in love with you far too late.

part of that is definitely your fault, he reasons. he wouldn't blame seungcheol for falling in love, either.

the thought of you on your date hurts him enough that he picks up his pen and scratches something on the notepad lying next to his laptop. his strokes are harsh and drawn without care, but when he stops, it's a rough sketch of your favourite flowers.

he lets out a bitter laugh. everything always circles back to you, in the end.

you don't ask for anything on your birthday, but wonwoo always gets you a bouquet of your favourite flowers alongside your gifts, because he knows how much you love them.

he wonders if seungcheol knows they're your favourite.

he's shaken out of his thoughts when you open the door to your shared house and step inside, almost tiptoeing, like you're afraid of making noise. you freeze when you see him looking at you. he wonders how long he's been sitting there, mind blank but also filled with thoughts of you. it's eating him up like a slow poison from the inside, but he forces himself to hold your gaze.

you look amazing. more than that, you look happy.

he's not jealous. he's never jealous when you're happy. but he just wants you to be happy with him, and he doesn't know if he's enough.

he wants to know what it'd be like to take you out. he wants to know everything that makes you smile, because he still learns something new about you almost every day. he wants to know what it's like to hold hands with you, kiss you goodnight, and wake up every morning knowing you're there by his side and his side only.

he wants more than he can possibly have.

"hey, wonwoo," you say, shutting the door behind you before you take off your shoes. "couldn't sleep?"

"no. i wanted to wait till you came back."

you frown at him. "i told you not to."

as if he could ever do that. whether you go out on dates, or to parties with your friends, wonwoo can't relax till he knows you're back home, safe. he just shrugs. this is one thing he'll always be stubborn about.

"did you have dinner?" you ask, ruffling his hair and moving past him to presumably fix yourself a snack before you go to bed.

"yeah," he says, looking back at the laptop. the letters are still jumbled, so he cleans his glasses before putting them back on. "unless last night's pizza doesn't count."

"that's a lot of words for no," you say. "are instant noodles okay?"

"of course."

wonwoo watches as you move around, putting back today afternoon's dried dishes into their respective places and filling a glass of water for yourself.

"did you have fun tonight?"

"yeah," you say, a smile on your face. "cheol picked out this movie i've been wanting to watch for a while. then we went to this hole-in-the-wall cafe that was surprisingly nice. and then he dropped me home."

wonwoo tries not to react at the nickname you already have for him. he's not jealous, but it's getting harder to convince himself of that. he looks at your jacket. it looks...not quite your style.

"is that new?" he asks, pointing at it.

"what? oh, this? seungcheol asked me to return it to him the next time. it was pretty cold today."

wonwoo's hand crumples the note before he realizes. next time? why couldn't he have realized how much he loved you before all of this had to happen?

"you okay?" you ask, turning around to look at him. "come here and tell me if it tastes fine."

"it's just instant noodles," he pretends to grumble, but waits for you to feed him some. he can see you're a bit tired. he wishes you'd fall asleep on him, the way you do when you're stubborn enough to want to keep him company with whatever he's doing.

"tastes good," he hums, licking his lips.

did he just imagine your eyes looking at them before they moved back to his face?

"great. hand me those bowls from there?"

you using him for his height is a running joke he hopes never gets old. wonwoo takes out the cutlery too, but stops when he sees an angry red line on your hand.

"what happened to you?" he asks, holding your hand so he can see it clearly. he tries not to think about how much bigger his hand is. the cut isn't bleeding, but it's still there, starkly visible against your skin.

you hesitate. "i'm not sure. i remember my hand hit something in the cafe, but i didn't see it till now."

"and you didn't bother checking it once you got home?"

you look at him. "i didn't even feel it that much, woo."

"you could have tetanus for all you know!"

"it's just a cut! it's hardly that ser—"

you stop talking when wonwoo switches on the tap and turns off the stove. "take this off," he says, pointing to the jacket. it shouldn't even be in your home. he shouldn't be feeling like this in the first place.

you comply wordlessly, hand limp in his as he washes it thoroughly, before patting it dry with the towel near the sink and finding a bandaid in the cabinet above. you have a propensity for getting hurt randomly and wonwoo's glad to be prepared.

"done," he says, letting go of your hand. you're still looking at him.

"kiss it better?" you ask. there's a mischievous look in your eyes.

and who is he to refuse? he takes your hand back, gently pressing a kiss to it, making sure it's not too forceful. when your eyes meet again, he gets the feeling there's something in the air. even you seem to be aware of it. it's like the tipping point before the scales lose their balance, like the calm before the storm; it's now or never.

"one more time?" you ask, moving a bit closer. wonwoo swears he forgets how to breathe. and he definitely isn't imagining your eyes on his lips this time.

"always," he says, before he leans down to press his lips to yours.

it's magic. there's no other word for it. wonwoo feels like he's transcending worlds when he feels your lips against his, trying to press yourself into him when you wrap your hands around his waist.

when you pull apart, wonwoo swears you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life. this is what he wants, and he'll be damned if he doesn't try to find out what could have been.

"please don't go out with him again?"

"...what?"

wonwoo swallows, letting go of your hand. his bravery now comes and goes like waves on the seashore, tides threatening to spill out everything he feels about you in one careless motion.

"i don't want you to go out with him again."

"because...we kissed?"

"because i'd never let you get hurt if you were with me."

"you...what?"

"i like you," he says, taking a step closer. "i don't know what that meant to you, but i like you so much, and i hate that it took me this long to realize it. i want...i want you to give me a chance."

"you like me?" you ask, voice smaller than before.

he nods. "i want to...take you out on a date. wherever you want. i want to make you laugh. it's been killing me, thinking about you with him."

"oh, my god," you say, burying your face in your hands. wonwoo's heart drops. "why would you— i've been trying to get over you all this while, going out on dates with him so i can stop thinking about you that way, and now you're just...giving me what i've always wanted?

wonwoo feels like he's been drenched in ice-cold water. "you like me?" he parrots. he doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he pulls you in for a hug. even this simple gesture suddenly feels like a brand new thing in the light of your recent confessions.

your hands find their place around his waist again, your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "of course i do. i'm surprised you didn't realize earlier. it's been...a while."

this is news to him. "how long, exactly?"

you bow your head, not meeting his eyes, "i'm not telling you now."

"you can't hide anything from me, you know."

he can feel your smile against his chest. "i know. let me just have this for now?"

"forever."

you tighten your grip around his waist and just stand with him.

wonwoo makes a mental note to get you a bunch of real flowers.

HAHAHAHAH THANK YOU!!! please stick around, I’m lowkey developing a disorder surrounding seungkwan and think more people need to write about him so there will hopefully be more where this came from 😭👀🙏🏻

Been on a seungkwan kick lately… enjoy

[0917]

By the time Seungkwan’s eyes flutter open, the sun is making its steady way across the sky, streaming in through the filmy curtains of your shared bedroom window. It’s rare for him to wake up before you, but it was a long night for you at work, and so he wakes up beside you instead of to the noises of you making him breakfast in bed.

He likes it much better than he thought. Silently, he props his head up on one arm and lets himself drink you in -- the way your messy hair splays all over the pillow, your long eyelashes curling daintily, the sunlight hitting your shoulders and giving him a new way to interpret the word “sun-kissed”. Because who wouldn’t want to kiss you? You look so tiny in sleep, so precious. He grins as it dawns on him that if he plays his cards right, he’ll be waking up next to you his whole life.

Slowly, he sits up, not wanting to disturb your sleep. He watches you carefully as he makes his way to the door. You must really be tired, because you don’t stir at all -- not even when the door creaks loudly on his way into the kitchen.

He inspects the two-day-old flowers he gave you -- peonies, your favorites. They’re holding up, but he re-trims them for you just to be safe. Then he starts boiling some eggs, only to turn and jump about a mile in the air out of fright, yelping. Because there you are, watching him from the doorway, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You laugh as he clutches at his heart. “You were so quiet! You scared me!” he scolds, laughing too.

“I’m sorry,” you say, shuffling forward and opening up your arms. “What are you making?”

“I was going to make eggs and put them in a bowl with some rice,” he says as you wrap him up in your arms and the blanket. “Are you hungry? I didn’t want to wake you. I know you must be tired.”

“Let me help,” you say. “We can make some other things too.”

He tsks. “Eggs and rice aren’t enough for you? Wow, after everything I’ve done,” he teases.

You bury your face in his neck and nuzzle in close. “I’m just really hungry. I don’t mind dressing it up a bit.”

“Leave it to me, honey,” he says gently. “I’m good at the dressing part.”

“You are,” you agree, pushing onto your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “What should I do while you dress up the eggs?”

“Keep an eye on me,” he says, looking down at you and marveling at the light in your eyes, at the freckles on your nose — at you. But he just smiles, and you know what he means.

So, although it constricts his movement, you wrap your arms around his waist while he works in the kitchen, resting your cheek against the space between his shoulder blades. This is what home feels like.