Yall Spoke And I Listened.first Person To Guess Which Ateez Member Is Coming Up Next Gets A Kiss

Y’all spoke and I listened….first person to guess which Ateez member is coming up next gets a kiss 😘

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

anniversaries | yunho

Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates! I just wanted to write something cute and fluffy and short, so I hope you enjoy. <3 Warnings: I tried to avoid gendered terms but there might be some accidents, there are pet names (love, honey), it's implied reader is kinda shorter than Yunho but no specific size parameters are mentioned.

You are a person who keeps track of dates. You know every birthday in your family, always have a plan for holidays, and make sure your coworkers feel admired and appreciated.

So it was a bit of a shock to see your boyfriend of not-quite-one year standing at your door with a little pink box wrapped up in gold ribbon, his eyes bright and excited and his cheeks flushed with the winter chill.

"Yunho!" you exclaimed, nonplussed, ushering him inside and closing the door against the cold. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi to you too," he teases, putting the cake box on the counter and extricating himself from his jacket. During the winter, Yunho is always wearing a soft, fluffy sweater -- a habit he adopted after learning that you couldn't resist burying your face in his chest when he had one on. Even now, you can't help but wrap your arms around his middle, running your hands up and down the soft fabric. "I have a gift for you. I thought I'd surprise you and drop it off."

"What's the occasion?" you ask him.

He grins. "Why don't we sit down first? I want snuggles."

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, cuddling up beside him on the couch in the living room. "What have you been up to today?" you ask him, putting one of your hands up against his cold cheek to try and warm him.

"Honestly, not that much," he says simply, leaning into your touch. "I was mostly thinking about you all day."

You laugh -- he's not usually this clingy.

Your relationship with Yunho began as a friendship that had gradually become something infinitely more. He could make you smile even on days when it was hard to get out of bed, and you also felt that he drew strength from your honesty and good humor. You could talk to him about anything. He was genuinely your very best friend. And that meant everything to you.

"Was there a reason I was on your mind today?" you ask him as he winds his arms around your waist.

"You're on my mind every day," he insists, "but today is special, yes."

"Why?"

"Because I had a very important conversation with Mingi last year that made me decide to shoot my shot."

"Really?" you ask, surprised. "I've never heard this story."

He chuckles. "Well, Mingi and I were hanging out, and we ended up talking about you like we always did because I was a miserable loser who was scared to ask you out --"

"Okay, but I was just as big of a loser as you," you remind him with a playful shove. "We were both just dancing around having that conversation, which in hindsight, is actually pretty funny --"

"Because it was really easy once we finally did it," Yunho laughs. "Yeah, I remember. But I'm telling you a story now, love."

"Sorry," you giggle, looking up at him with wide eyes and trying not to smile. Yunho thinks his heart might explode, so he continues.

"It's okay. But anyway, Mingi got fed up with me and told me if I didn't ask you out I would never even know what you might have said. The turning point was when he said, 'you either say something and maybe get rejected, or say nothing and never even have a chance.'"

You think back to the "DTR" conversation you'd had with Yunho all that time ago -- how he'd taken your hands in his and asked you if friendship was all you saw in him. You remember how his hands shook, how it was one of the few times that you'd seen him unsmiling, and you'd realized that he was as terrified as you. Somehow, that made it so much easier to confess. "Remind me to thank Mingi later," you murmur, turning toward Yunho and snuggling into him.

"It was very wise of him," Yunho agrees. "But anyway. That conversation happened a year ago today, so I wanted to celebrate." He squeezes you. "Go get the box."

Reluctantly, you untangle yourself from your boyfriend and grab the box from the counter, sitting down beside him. "Do I just open it?" you say, shaking it to see if you can hear anything from the box.

Yunho winces as you shake it. "Uh, my love," he says, his expression pained. "I don't think you should shake that."

"Why?" you ask, suddenly worried. "Was it a kitten or something?"

Yunho laughs. "No," he says. "But it shouldn't be shaken. Just open it and you'll see."

So you open it. Inside is a small cake with very smeared frosting. You can tell what it used to say, though: "Happy Mingi Day." And you're laughing.

"I was thinking we could do something nice for Mingi every year on this day," Yunho muses, taking in the mess you've made inside the box. "Should we take him his favorite snacks?"

"Of course. But we should make a pact never to explain why we're so nice to him this one day out of the year," you muse. "It'll be hilarious if he never knows why."

Yunho beams. "I love you," he says, squishing you in a huge hug with his big sweater.

"I love you more," you say. Then suddenly you realize something.

"So it actually still took you three weeks to talk to me after you had the conversation with Mingi?!"

"Water under the bridge, honey."

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

Witchcraft, Wisdom, Death...

Every once in awhile I read a piece of writing that just makes me want to cry because ITS EVERYTHING TO ME and this is one of them. thank you thank you thank you for this masterpiece, it is beautiful and a JOY to read.

A/N: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and a special Merry Christmas to my boo @gyuminusone. This is my Christmas gift to you!! I hope you have the best holiday, M! Sending love across the country!!!

Parties and Pickup Lines

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader Genre: friends to lovers Rating: PG (because of the swearing.. i think that's the only reason? also alcohol consumption) Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: kissing, alcohol consumption, reader & squad celebrate Christmas somewhat traditionally (Westernized)? Um... there's a kiss and some swearing also

“Mingyu.” You drag out the last syllable of his name, aggressively dropping your head against his arm as he continues to carry on conversation with Joshua, your host for the evening. He had hosted a dinner party that, in true Joshua Hong fashion, was full of expensive and foreign wines. It was great, but now you’re sufficiently tipsy, tired, and ready to go home, and Mingyu and Joshua just won’t shut up. 

“Are you giving her a ride?” Joshua nods in your direction and you narrow your eyes at him from your place against Mingyu’s side. All he does is smile back.

“Yeah,” Mingyu responds with a dramatic sigh, and you can feel him shift as he turns to look down at you. You want to lift your head to glare up at him, but you’re tired. 

“Of course you are,” Joshua quips. “Don’t know why I even asked.” He’s teasing, and you can’t see Mingyu’s reaction, but you imagine he uses his free hand to flip the other man off. 

You’re used to it — the way everyone teases you and Mingyu. Sure, you’re a little bit in love with him, but isn’t everyone? Sure, you’re always together, and you take care of each other, and sure, every time he looks at you, or smiles at you, or laughs because of you, you feel yourself falling just that little bit more. Sure, the two of you might be on the edge of something more than friends, but you don’t know what, and you don’t know how to get there. 

All you know is that right now, you want to go home.

Mingyu finally stands up from the couch, pulling you with him while bidding farewell to an amused Joshua. As he tugs you by the hand through the apartment towards the door, he calls out goodbyes to everyone you pass. You somehow manage a few hugs and waves yourself before you reach the exit, where Mingyu hands you your coat, and then you’re finally out in the fresh air.

“Our Uber is two minutes away,” he informs you. 

You nod and regretfully let go of his hand, pulling your gloves from your coat pocket and squinting down at your fingers as you clumsily put them on. You can feel him watching you as you wait, and you meet his eyes. The corner of his mouth turns up when you catch him looking, and you can’t help but stick your tongue out at him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you manage — quite smoothly if you do say so yourself — but all he does is smile bigger.

“I have lots of those.”

You gasp. “Blackmail is a crime.”

He ignores you and looks away, eyes scanning the road for your ride as he says, “It’s not my fault that you’re so nice to take pictures of.”

You stare at him, and even in your tipsy state, you feel it again — the overwhelming affection that blooms in your chest. You want to push him on it, you want to know, but for the millionth time, you can’t seem to get the words out. So you say nothing as your Uber arrives and drives the two of you back to your place.

Your apartment is basically Mingyu’s second home, and the same goes for you with his. “It’s just easier, convenient to know someone on the other side of town when you need to crash,” is the excuse you tend to use the most. You never say that it has a lot more to do with the way he looks in your kitchen in the morning as he makes your coffee, or the way he always makes you take his bed while he sleeps on the couch, or the way he knows exactly where you keep the popcorn for movie nights.

He knows where you keep everything else, too — makeup remover included.

“I personally don’t care if you take your makeup off or not,” Mingyu points out from his spot by your bathroom door, “but you are going to care in the morning, and I am going to be on the receiving end of your wrath if I don’t make you do it now.”

“Well then, help me,” you say, and it comes out as a whine. You’re too tired to care, and you say as much. You miss the way Mingyu’s entire being softens when you pout dejectedly, exhausted, and lean back against the mirror from where you sit on the counter. He lets out a dramatic sigh, but you know you’ve won when he moves to stand in front of you.

“Sit up,” he instructs, reaching over your shoulder to open the cupboard above the mirror as you do what he says. He’s careful not to hit your head with the door as he takes out your makeup wipes, doting as always. You watch as he opens the package while you sit there waiting, eyes intent on him and his movements. You try to stay still as he lifts a hand to your face, holding your breath as he gently begins to clean your makeup off. His free hand lifts to your chin to steady you after a moment, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You wish you could blame the alcohol for the intense desire you feel to just… kiss him, but it’s not the first time, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. 

You realize it again, then, as you watch him — that your feelings for him run so irrevocably deep. 

You don’t know how long it takes as he stands between your legs, thoroughly cleansing your face with gentle motions. Once or twice, he catches you staring; the first time, he teases you, and the second, he pulls a face that’s meant to make you laugh (it works). When he announces that he’s done, adding on something about how grateful you should be for his hard work as he leans down to find your trash can, you can’t help it.

Your hands have a mind of their own. As soon as he straightens from throwing the cloth into the trash, they gently find his face, and he stills. He doesn’t pull away. He just waits, eyes wide and imploring, and you let his silence spur you on. You don’t say anything as you begin to map his features out with your fingertips, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire time. The high of his cheekbones, the beauty mark on the very edge of his nose; his mouth, lips softly parting as you brush over them, barely noticing the breath he’s holding as you do.

“You are so beautiful,” is what finally breaks the silence. “I think about you and how beautiful you are all the time.” It’s you that says it, and it takes you a second to register that you said it out loud. You vaguely register an alarm going off in your brain, a loud fuck! Fuck! Fuck! in quick succession, but you don’t take it back, because it’s true.

Mingyu blinks, staring back at you for a few moments before he finally looks away. 

“Thank you,” he says as he grasps onto your wrists to pull your hands away from his face. “And you’re drunk.”

“Both of these things can be true,” you quip, and he lets out a laugh at that. 

“Come on, brush your teeth. I’m not doing that part for you.”

A week passes, and you’re not avoiding Mingyu, per se, but you’re not not avoiding him, either. 

The morning after your slip-up, when you wake up sober and embarrassed, you think maybe you’ve fucked up your friendship for good. You get a text from him, explaining that he’d gone to the gym and that he’d text you later, and all seems relatively normal — everything except for the fact that you’d blatantly ogled him and called him beautiful to his face the night before. He doesn’t say anything else about it. 

Throughout the week, his texts seem to be coming in slower and fewer, though you imagine that might have something to do with the short and accidentally-on-purpose delayed responses from you. He hasn’t asked, and you’re grateful. Thankfully, your work had actually been a welcome distraction in the daytime since you were rapidly approaching a deadline. You had only needed to fill your evenings so that you weren’t thinking about him. Today is Friday though, and that means another work week is over — and another holiday festivity is waiting for you at Seokmin’s. 

Unfortunately, your feelings for one of your closest friends are waiting for you there, too. 

You don’t know if it’s better or worse that Mingyu is already a few drinks deep when you arrive.

He greets you at the door as if the place is his own, ushering you in before pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug. You sink into him, eyes squeezing shut briefly before he pulls away, eyes bright as he holds you by the biceps.

“Hi!” He beams. “I missed you.”

That thing in your chest shifts and jumps around as he smiles at you. You are my favourite person in the entire world, you think. And I have no idea what to do about it. 

“I missed you, too.”

You had wondered if Mingyu would notice the space you’d taken from him over the week, the space you’d needed to try and gather your feelings, but if he had, he doesn’t show it. He’s just Mingyu, who stays close to you the whole night while remaining the life of the party. Tonight, he doesn’t comment when you don’t return his physical touches or flirtations. You wonder if it’s because of the alcohol or just how excited he is at the idea of Christmas being so close — because Mingyu usually notices everything, especially when it comes to you.

You finally get a reprieve when he’s called into the kitchen to help clean up a spill, and you let out a sigh as you sink further into the couch cushions. You would never have the heart to ask him for the space you need, not when you know how affectionate he always is, but at least you can breathe a little right now. He hasn’t said a word all night about last weekend, and you’re not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. 

“Gyu said you had a busy week. You okay?”

You’re startled when Seokmin plops down next to you. 

“Yeah,” you affirm, smiling tiredly over at your friend. “But the project is finally over now.”

“Congrats!” Seokmin lifts his glass in a toast, and you lift your wine glass to clink it with his. His eyebrows furrow as he eyes your drink. “Isn’t that the exact same amount of wine you had an hour ago?”

“No.”

You’ve never been a good liar. 

“What’s up? You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want it, obviously. No sober shame here.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, thanks, Seok. I know.”

He continues to look at you, and you wish this was one of those times that Seokmin decided to let something go, but you’re not so lucky. Curse him for loving his people so much. 

“You sure everything’s okay?”

You get distracted when your eyes catch a glimpse of Mingyu as he pops his head out of the kitchen to call for Seungcheol, and they linger on the doorframe long after he’s gone. 

“Ah.”

“Hm?” You turn back to Seokmin, cheeks flushing at being caught.

Instead of teasing like you’d expected, Seokmin’s smile is gentle. “You should tell him.”

You almost drop your wine. “Seokmin—“

You don’t get a chance to say anything else because Mingyu reappears over the back of the couch, his arms lazily hanging around Seokmin’s shoulders as he rests his cheek on the other boy’s head. 

“Can we go home? I’m tired,” he pouts.

You don’t hesitate for a second.

You stand up with a nod, all wariness from the moment in your bathroom last weekend flying out the window as you take his hand. Because this is what the two of you do. He takes care of you, and you take care of him. No questions asked.

“Bye, Seok,” you offer, and he sends you another smile as he lifts his glass. “Thanks for hosting.” He glances between the two of you, at your joined hands, and you shrug with a sad smile before turning to leave.

The walk to Mingyu’s from Seokmin’s isn’t very long. It’s cold, but you’ll manage. You feel warm all over from the way he refuses to let go of your hand, anyway.

“I love Christmas.”

You smile over at Mingyu, who’s been fairly quiet since you left Seokmin’s apartment. 

“I know.” You squeeze the hand he has attached to yours, and he smiles back. You ignore the ache in your chest at the sight of it.

It’s quiet for another few minutes as you walk slowly down the sidewalk before he speaks again, pulling you to a stop and catching you entirely off guard with his words.

“What does Santa say to Mrs. Claus when she dresses up nice?”

You hold back a laugh. “What does he say, Gyu? Tell me.”

He giggles, and then with a wiggle of his eyebrows, he leans in close and he says, “‘Ho ho ho-ly shit, you look good’.”

“Incredible. Great joke.” You tug on his hand, hoping he’ll decide to keep following you — because you’re not getting his ass anywhere without him wanting to go — but he plants his feet even more and shakes his head.

“Wait,” he whines, “hang on. I’m Santa!”

You snort. “Of course you are,” you try to appease, gesturing for him to start walking. To your relief, he finally takes a few steps, but his hold on your hand only gets tighter. 

“No,” he pouts, and you almost groan as he pulls you to a stop again. “I mean, I’m Santa in this story! And you’re Mrs. Claus!”

“Gyu, I’m not following. And it’s cold—“

“‘Ho ho ho-ly shit, you look good’,” he repeats the punchline, but this time, he uses his free hand to emphasize your outfit. “Do you get it now? I’m Santa and I’m saying that to you!”

You blink as you process. A pickup line?

All night, you’d managed to avoid… this, for the most part, because people were around and he was busy. Now, it’s just the two of you. Your body feels warm all over at the silly flirtation, at the insinuation, and you’re not sure how to respond. You don’t even get a chance to open your mouth, though, before he’s speaking again. 

“I don’t care what Santa says… you’re at the top of my nice list.” He winks, pulling you in closer to him so quickly that you stumble a little. It’s freezing outside, but you suddenly feel far too warm. 

“Can we please go home?”

Mingyu begins to giggle, and you half think he’s going to kiss you as he leans in. Then his forehead is falling into the crook of your shoulder, laughing into your scarf, arms sliding around your middle. You can’t do anything but hug him back while he calms down, your cheeks burning, until he stands up straight again and nods, smile still on his lips.

“I’m sleepy.”

You don’t know how you make it the rest of the way, but you do. When you arrive, you head into the bathroom to try and compose yourself.

“Hey!” Mingyu says abruptly, startling you when you exit his bathroom. He’s got his phone in his hands and he squints down at it, giggling to himself before meeting your expectant gaze. “Are you the Grinch?”

You blink. “Pardon?” 

“Because you’ve stolen my heart.”

You groan, ignoring the tingling feeling that shoots through your entire body at the stupid line. “Get changed,” you order, turning around to give him — and yourself — some space. “Where the hell are you getting these from?”

“From my brain,” he attempts. When you don’t say anything, he admits, “from Soonyoung.”

“Can you tell Soonyoung to shut up so we can go to sleep?”

“We?” 

You turn back in surprise to find him already in his bed, sheets pulled up around his waist. He’s beaming.

“Yeah,” you stammer, “you in here and me out there.” You jut your thumb in the direction of the living room, and Mingyu pouts again. 

“Oh. Well, hang out with me in here for a bit longer, then.”

“Fine. Fifteen minutes.” You cave, moving to sit next to him on the bed, leaving as much space between you as you can. 

Mingyu isn’t having any of it, though, as he rolls over and snuggles into your side. He holds up his phone, giggling, canines on full display as he wiggles his brows, before he says, “Mind if we take a picture? I need to show Santa exactly what I want for Christmas.”

“Remind me to kill Soonyoung for this.”

“Rude.” Mingyu is suddenly pouting, the change so quick that it takes you a second to process. “I asked him to send them. I wanted to tell them to you.”

Oh.

“I’m going to go to sleep,” is what you respond with, praying that he doesn’t notice how flushed your cheeks are as you stand up.

He catches you by surprise though, his fingers reaching for yours as he speaks, gently closing around them in an attempt to keep you close. “How come you won’t talk to me about it?”

You tilt your head in question. “Hm? Talk to you about what, Gyu?” 

His eyebrows furrow, and his frown deepens. With a tug, he’s pulled you back onto the bed next to him, his arm thrown over your legs as he presses his face into your side. You let yourself tangle your fingers in his hair, just one more time.

“This,” he murmurs, squeezing you gently on your thigh.

“Huh?”

You can feel it when he hums against you. “Us.”

Your hand stills its motions against his scalp, and the blood rushes to your ears.

“I’ve given you so much space,” he continues, his voice so sad that your heart sinks even lower. “And I don’t know what else to do.” 

“Mingyu—“

“Do you like me?” He interrupts, sitting up abruptly. His honey eyes are piercing as he asks it, as he delves as deep into your soul as he can go. You can tell he’s sobered up quite a bit as he looks at you, as he waits for your answer. 

“Yeah, I do,” you finally say. It’s quiet, soft, but he hears you.

Mingyu tilts his head, voice low as he presses on. “And do you really think I’m beautiful?”

You feel your cheeks flush even deeper. “You are.” 

Mingyu sits back, shoulders suddenly deflating. “Then why won’t you talk to me about it? Why do you keep it to yourself?” He looks away before he adds, quietly, “I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore.” 

His name comes out in a whisper. “Mingyu…”

He sighs, falling back down onto his bed and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Y/N,” he mumbles back.

You’re frozen. Your mind is racing, heart stumbling over itself as you search for the right words. You can’t find them. “Goodnight,” you say softly.

Mingyu nods, but he doesn’t look at you again as he responds, rolling over and away from you. “Goodnight.”

Needless to say, you don’t sleep very well.

Y/N [9:13am]: morning

Y/N [9:13am]: I had to go home to prepare for Jeonghan’s party. I didn’t want to wake you up 

Gyu [9:47am]: you should have woken me up.

Gyu [9:52am]: I’ll see you there 

You’re a bundle of nerves when you reach Jeonghan’s, every nerve standing on edge as you try and prepare yourself to see Mingyu. You know that tonight is the night – you can’t ignore what’s happening, not when he means so much. 

You greet the rest of your friends, trying to play it cool. You follow Chan into the apartment and to the table, freezing when you catch sight of Mingyu. He’s got on an ugly, green Christmas sweater with bells attached, and his hair is gently falling across his forehead as he chats to Jeonghan. Everyone turns as you walk in, but your eyes can do nothing but find him first. All he does when he sees you is raise his glass in your direction in acknowledgement, before he’s turning back to his conversation. It hurts, but you can’t say you don’t deserve it. 

I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore. 

His words replay in your mind over dinner and during the entire movie afterwards, where you happen to somehow be sat across from and beside anyone but Mingyu. It’s funny, you think, how you’re finally ready to face this, and you can’t even get close to him tonight. 

The entire night, you can feel him watching you from across the room. Every time you look back, he just smiles a bit and looks away. He doesn’t go out of his way to try to come find you, and you can’t say that doesn’t hurt. Should you have stayed this morning? Should you have talked about it? Probably.

You miss him, but he’s in the same room. 

I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore. 

You know you have to be the one to initiate this time – you know that he was vulnerable with you yesterday. It’s your turn now.

When the movie ends, Mingyu is the first to start cleaning up. You follow him into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from your friends as you practically trip over yourself to get to him. 

“Mingyu.”

He turns around from where he’s placing dishes in the sink in surprise. “Hey.”

You take a deep breath, debating starting with small talk – but you can’t do it. “Will you come outside with me?”

His hands stop halfway to the sink when you blurt the words out, abrupt, and you hold your breath. You don’t know if you’re imagining how tense he is. You hate this. You’re sure you’re about to be sick when he doesn’t respond for a moment, before he nods and dries his hands off on a towel. 

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

When you step outside, the awkward silence continues. Then the two of you are speaking at once.

“Mingyu, I need to—“

“We should—“

You let out a nervous laugh, biting down on your lip, and gesture for him to go first. He looks down, kicking at the ground with his boot, but your eyes are rooted to his face. Snowflakes are getting stuck in his hair as they fall, his lip drawn between his teeth, and you can’t look away. 

“Did you mean what you said last night?”

Your heart leaps into your throat. “I was the sober one, Gyu. Of course I do.” you try to joke to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t take the bait. 

“Did you say it just to shut me up, then?” His eyes fly to yours again, piercing. He’s tense, jaw clenched as he waits, and your stomach flips.

“Why would I do that, Mingyu?” 

He shrugs. Then he shoves his hands into his pockets, the bells on his ugly Christmas sweater chiming as he does, and you’d laugh if you didn’t instantly recognize his reaction for what it is: a defence mechanism. A defence mechanism to protect him from you. You can practically feel your heart begin to shatter.

“If you meant it,” he says, voice soft and low, “then say it again.” 

“Mingyu—“

You’re caught by surprise when he takes a step forward, cutting you off as he says, “I like you, and I need you to say it back right now if you meant what you said. If you don’t, I’ll never bring it up again, but I’m not going to keep guessing how you feel about me.”

“Of course I meant it.” The words come out so quickly, so desperately that you stumble over them a little. “I really, really like you, Mingyu. So much that I feel sick to my stomach about it sometimes.”

Another step closer. “So why did you leave this morning?” He doesn’t sound angry anymore. His voice is soft, almost uncertain. It’s you that closes the final step.

Your arms wrap around his waist and you pull him in tight, face muffled against his coat as you murmur, “I’m terrified about what this means for us.”

He moves back just enough to see you, hands finding your face. “What are you so scared of?” 

“I don’t know.”

“I like you,” he says again, eyes intent on yours. Your eyes flutter shut as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “And you like me.” 

You nod, your hands lifting to rest on his chest. “Yeah,” you whisper.

“I know you better than anyone else.”

You open your eyes, leaning back so that you can look at him this time. “You’re my favourite person in the world,” you say, and you watch as his smile begins to grow. You feel all sorts of giddy, fingers grasping the material of his coat tighter as he beams down at you.

“Yeah?” He teases, and your eyes fly to his mouth.

“Mhm.”

His expression grows serious again, eyes flickering across your face as he asks, “Do you want to give this a shot, then?”

You hope the kiss you press to his lips answers his question well enough. 

A/N: please please please reblog if you liked! it's what us writers rely on :)

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GOTTA READ THIS AFTER I TAKE MY HEAD OUT OF MY TEXTBOOKS (three days until graduation!!!)

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.”