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Welcome to my purple page~💜
Hi! You can call me Lila. I'm just a college student who is obsessed with the color purple and with order. So! Here's my masterlist.
I like writing as a way to motivate myself when I feel stuck with my job or assignments. For now I'm only writing for Seventeen but that might or might not change in the future. I'm always open to listen to any requests so feel free to send me a message anytime~
[03:04 AM] — mingyu .
req by @weird-bookworm, 419 words, hurt/comfort
It's not often you wake up to your boyfriend crying.
In fact, it's never happened before. But it's happening now, and Mingyu's sobs are wracking his entire body as he sits up in bed, hands over his face, and your barely-awake brain goes into alert mode as you sit up instantly, touching his arm.
"Mingyu? Mingyu, honey, what's wrong?"
His breaths are erratic, like he’s trying to cry quietly and not disturb you, and it breaks your heart. He’s not replying to your concerned questions, but he does turn towards your voice, face still covered by his eyes.
So you stop asking, because really that’s not what’s important right now. What’s most important is helping him calm down.
“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here with you,” you say soothingly, fingers wrinkling into the back of his shirt, burying his head into your shoulder. He may have a ridiculously broad frame, but he’s still devastatingly small in your arms, his shoulders trembling as he folds himself into your embrace.
“Y—Y/N—”
“I’m right here, baby, don't worry,” you say instantly, rubbing circles into his back. “Shh, don’t cry, it’s alright. I’m right here.”
Mingyu hiccups and makes a small whining noise into your shoulder, a cut-off whimper that means he’s still trying to hold back his tears. “My dream—you said y—you were g—going to leave—”
And oh, you realise what’s happened. Your boyfriend has always had some sort of mild fear of you one day breaking up with him, even though you’d told him time and time again that that was a fear you should be having about him. But nevertheless, he feels that way, but you never realised it was a fear big enough to make him wake up crying from a bad dream.
“Oh, honey,” you whisper, soft, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other still rubbing his back. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. Why would I, when I’m so, so in love with you?”
And that’s when he breaks, letting out a cracked sob as he finally descends into noisy, wet tears.
It's rare for your boyfriend to cry. Rare for him to cry so hard that he forgets to breathe, that he clings to you like you’re his last lifeline, that he runs out of tears and simply whimpers brokenly into your shirt.
But you hold him through it, blinking back your own tears, rocking him from side to side. Being his comfort.
After all, that’s all he ever is to you.
fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @butiluvu @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt
Genre: Angst, Hurt, Hidden Relationship, Emotional Break-up
🍒 Choi Seungcheol | Scoups x Reader
Summary: Being the secret girlfriend of SEVENTEEN’s leader, Choi Seungcheol, means learning how to love in silence. While the world celebrates him, you sit alone, on your birthday, your anniversary, and every special occasion. Not because he doesn’t love you, but because he’s never around to show it. You’ve held on for years, telling yourself love is worth waiting for. But even the deepest love can begin to break in the face of loneliness. And this time, you’re the one choosing to walk away.
The sound of your fingers tapping against the side of your coffee mug was the only noise in your quiet apartment.
No music.
No TV.
No messages.
No Seungcheol.
You checked your phone again, even though you knew. No missed calls. No unread texts.
Just a lock screen photo you hadn’t changed in three years, Seungcheol grinning with one arm wrapped tightly around you, hidden away in the safety of your apartment.
It was your anniversary.
Again.
And he forgot.
Again.
Your eyes stung, but you were too used to the ache to cry now. You set the mug down and stared at the small table you had set earlier that evening.
You still cooked. Still wore the black dress he once said you looked “dangerously beautiful” in. You even lit candles.
But like every other special day, you celebrated it alone.
You told yourself it wasn’t his fault. And maybe it wasn’t. He never intended to hurt you. It was always the schedule. The rehearsals. The tours. The group. The comeback.
You weren’t competing with another person. You were competing with an entire career.
And the most painful out of all?
you were losing...
The soft beep of your door lock jolted you. You quickly wiped under your eyes and stood, heart racing. The door opened slowly, and there he was, Choi Seungcheol, cap low, mask on, eyes tired. But even through exhaustion, he smiled at you the way he always did.
“Happy Anniversary, love,” he said softly.
Your heart cracked. “You remembered.”
He nodded and stepped inside, removing his shoes like he always did. “Barely made it... practice ran over and—”
“You missed it,” you whispered. “Again.”
He looked up, frozen.
“I waited for hours, Cheol. Like I always do. I made dinner, lit candles, dressed up, just like last year. Just like the year before that. And every year... I wait.”
“I’m here now,” he said quickly, walking over to you. “I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to—”
“But you did. You always do,” you said, backing away. “You always mean well. But your love comes in promises, not in presence.”
His expression dropped, hands shaking slightly. “Baby… please don’t say it.”
“I love you, Cheol. God, I love you so much it hurts. But that’s all it does lately. It hurts.”
“No,” he breathed, taking your hands in his. “We can work through this. Just a little longer. I’ll make time. I promise.”
“Don’t,” you said, pulling your hands away. “Don’t make promises you know you can’t keep. I deserve someone who can be there, not just in love, but in life. In real, present moments.”
Silence.
He looked at you like a man losing his world.
“You're still the only home I know,” he whispered.
“And I’ll always be rooting for you,” you replied, voice cracking. “But I can’t keep breaking just to love you.”
You reached for the necklace he gave you, gently unclasped it, and placed it in his palm.
“I was always yours, Cheol... but you were never really with me.”
You turned before he could see you cry, heading to your room, leaving him in the quiet glow of the candles still flickering on the table. The smell of cold dinner filled the room.
He stood there for a long time, necklace clenched in his fist, lips pressed together as tears finally slid down.
Because for the first time,
he couldn’t fix it.
And you weren’t waiting anymore.
A/N: Wow! I... It really hurts...
Going to sleep with tears on my eyes because of this but it's just SO good 😭😭
on a winter day where our noses are cold, let's meet again wonu🤍
pairing: seventeen x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff, established relationship
word count: 2.2k
warnings: mentions of food, some kissing
author note: hello! i’m alive!! thank you anon for requesting this, and i’m so sorry it took…literally 5 months to write this 😭 i hope you enjoy it though! thank you to my awesome friends who helped me write this <3 (honestly i have no idea where so much for chan came from but extra chan love!!)
seungcheol (s.coups) - buying you groceries
⟢ seungcheol is a provider, and he’d love to be the one getting you things, especially if it was something as important as groceries.
⟢ he’d totally just text you for a list, and expect you to just tell him exactly what you wanted—plus later, you’d get a bunch of pictures asking which brand or version you wanted of something to make sure he doesn’t get the wrong thing.
⟢ he’d want to pay for most, if not all of it—but he wants you to be comfortable with what he does, so you could both figure out who’s paying for it (though he’d definitely make sure to pay for the small things at least).
⟢ he has his card (and wads of cash) and he’s not afraid to spend it on you—in fact, he prefers it that way.
⟢ it’s even better when you’re with him, since you can spend time together and do something essential (and perhaps it gives him a glimpse of what’ll come down the line, once you’re both older).
Genre: fluff, fluff, fluff.
Pairing: Woozi x reader.
Warnings: none, just me making cheesy scenarios in my head.
Woozi walked lazily toward the room; he had spent a good part of the night working and all he wanted to do was to get some sleep. Rubbing his tired eyes, he approached the bed and lay down, hugging you from behind, careful not to wake you. However, as soon as he placed his arm over your body, he heard a faint whimper.
“Good night, love” he murmured with a yawn.
You opened one eye to look for your phone resting on the table beside you, the screen lighting up to show you the time.
“Good morning, love,” you replied, still half asleep. “I have to get up in half an hour…”
“Okay,” Woozi rested his face against your neck and let out a tired breath. “Let’s nap for half an hour then.”
After some time the alarm started ringing, waking you up abruptly and forcing you to turn it off with some annoyance; on the other hand, Woozi seemed to have fallen deeply asleep, his arm resting heavily on your side.
You tried to get up and had barely moved when you felt his grip tighten, along with a tender whine coming from behind you.
“Please, I need to get up” you said in a dull voice, looking at your phone screen to check the time.
“Don’t go,” he replied in a pleading tone, hugging you even tighter. “Stay home.”
“Excuse me?” you lifted your head slightly over your shoulder. “Who are you, and what have you done with my man?”
He only chuckled softly. You turned and gave him a good morning kiss on the forehead, allowing him to snuggle against your neck. Woozi was never like this, it was weird but also heart-warming. And as much as you liked that he was a bit clingier than usual, you couldn’t stop thinking about your responsibilities.
“It’s snowing outside,” he added, his voice resonating against your skin. “It’s dangerous, don’t go.”
“I’m sorry, Jihoon. My boss could fire me if I miss work,” your playful and adorable tone only made it even harder for him to let you go. “You wouldn’t want me to get fired from my dream job, would you?”
“I can pay your bills,” Woozi kissed your collarbone slowly and repeatedly. “Don’t go, stay with me.”
As tempting as that sounded, you had already convinced yourself to get up when a notification arrived on your phone, letting out a surprised sigh as you read the message on the screen.
“The boss said we shouldn’t go to work because of the bad weather,” you laughed, singing victory, and Woozi followed you. “Although I have to…”
“No, you don’t,” Woozi snatched the phone from your hands and tucked it under his pillow, then returned to his place at your neck, holding you even closer. “Good night.”
“Jihoon!” you complained, trying to reach for your phone, but he stopped you. “I have to…”
“No, you don’t!”
Amid laughter and arguments that came to nothing, both of you quickly fell asleep.
There was still a whole day ahead and there were no pressing responsibilities; a few more hours of sleep in Woozi's arms wouldn’t hurt.
Seventeen are a mosaic of every person they’ve ever loved, including you or You become a part of Seventeen’s life.
⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒
Scoups ⨾ ﹙ daily routine ﹚
As you became part of his life, Seungcheol started changing his routine. He would send a good morning message every day, and a picture of his lunch. Whenever he was away and missed you too much he would kick every member out of his room to eat dinner with you (or lunch, or breakfast, or supper or just to watch you eat)
color the sentence that's true about you >.>
i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child
no pressure tags >.>
Lets gooo ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ im so boring wth..
i'm over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i've never dated anyone / i have a best friend i've known for over five years / i am an only child
tagging: @soubeomies @kissbyoon @seokmn @mi9yuz @honeyhae-svt @noircheols @gyubakeries and anyone else who wants to join!!
i'm over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i've never dated anyone / i have a best friend i've known for over five years / i am an only child
i'm over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i've never dated anyone / i have a best friend i've known for over five years / i am an only child
fun, i wasn't tagged, just looked neat.
but i will tag -- @junkissed @onlyseokmins @wonustars @ddeonghwa-s @onlyseokmins
i'm over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i've never dated anyone / i have a best friend i've known for over five years / i am an only child
tagging: @petrichor-han @fairyblue-alchemist @shuadotcom @soongyeopsal @nothoughtsjustfic + anyone else who sees this and wants to !
i'm over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i've never dated anyone / i have a best friend i've known for over five years / i am an only child
wasn't tagged, just looked fun! @starlyrai @jiabae @sanaxo-o @mylovesstuffs and anyone who sees it !
Thanks for the tag !
tagging: @studioeisa @okiedokrie @wonustars @trustmypoison @shinysobi
i'm over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i've never dated anyone / i have a best friend i've known for over five years / i am an only child
i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child
Wasn't tagged but it seemed fun and wanted to join~💜
Tagging: @fairyhaos @scoupsakakitty @hanniescookie @mocchiixxx
Come join The K-Fic Collection! Do you like to read and discuss Seventeen fics? Do you want to connect with other Caratblr readers and writers? Then this is the network for you!
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Run and created by Head Librarian Chee and Head Librarian JiJi. Updated; 03/01/2025.
A shy girl from Jeju who secretly admires her lively classmate, Boo Seungkwan, through small, thoughtful gestures. As their lives take unexpected turns, her quiet support evolves over the years, blending childhood memories with dreams that grow far beyond their little island school. Pairing: Boo Seungkwan x Reader Genre: Fluff
Y/N was the quietest kid in their little Jeju elementary school, the kind of girl who’d rather blend into the wallpaper than wave hello. She lived with her grandparents in a cozy house that smelled like tangerine blossoms, her parents far off in Seoul, chasing big-city dreams. She didn’t mind too much—she had her sketchbook, her pencils, and a secret that made her cheeks turn as red as the ripest tangerines: she was Boo Seungkwan’s number one fan.
Seungkwan, oh, he was the sun in their classroom. Always belting out a song, always surrounded by a giggling crowd of classmates, always the teacher’s golden boy. “Seungkwan-ah, sing us something!” Mrs. Kim would say, and he’d puff out his chest like a tiny opera star and croon until everyone clapped. He was the kid who’d represent their school at every singing contest in Jeju, his voice bouncing off the walls like it was made of pure sunshine. Y/N? She’d just sit at the back, her nose buried in her desk, sneaking glances at him while her heart did little flips.
“Grandma, he’s just… so loud and bright,” Y/N mumbled one evening, hunched over her sketchbook. She was doodling Seungkwan again—him on a stage, stars sparkling around his head, a microphone in hand. Her grandma peeked over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling.
“Why don’t you just talk to him, sweetie? He’s a nice boy!” Grandma said, poking Y/N’s cheek until it turned pink.
“Halmeoniii!” Y/N whined, hiding her face. “He’s got too many friends! And I’m… I’m just me. What if everyone looks at me? I’d die!”
Her grandma chuckled. “You and your tangerine cheeks. One day, you’ll see—he’s not so scary.”
But Y/N wasn’t convinced. Seungkwan was a social butterfly, flitting from friend to friend, while she was a shy little caterpillar, content to stay curled up in her shell. Still, she had her own way of cheering him on. Every morning, she’d pluck an extra tangerine from the basket on their kitchen table, grab a marker, and get to work. A smiley face here, a tiny heart there, or—if Seungkwan had a contest that day—a scribbled “Fighting, Seungkwan!” on the peel. Then, she’d tiptoe to school extra early, her sneakers barely making a sound, and sneak the tangerine onto his desk. She’d position it just right, so when he sat down, it’d be grinning up at him like a little orange cheerleader.
One morning, she was almost caught. She’d just placed a tangerine with a wobbly “You’re the best!” on it when she heard footsteps. She gasped, ducked behind a chair, and peeked out as Seungkwan burst into the room with his best friend, Doyun.
“Who keeps leaving these?!” Seungkwan said, holding up the tangerine and squinting at it. “Look, it’s got a message again! ‘You’re the best!’ Who’s my secret fan, huh?”
Doyun snickered. “Maybe it’s a ghost. A tangerine ghost!”
“A ghost with terrible handwriting,” Seungkwan teased, peeling it open. “Mmm, it’s sweet though! Thanks, mystery person!”
Y/N’s face burned behind the chair. She wanted to melt into the floor, but her heart was doing cartwheels—he liked it!
At every contest, Y/N was there, tucked into the crowd, her hands clasped tight. She’d watch Seungkwan belt out his songs, his voice soaring over the audience, and she’d clap so quietly you’d barely hear it. Once, he won first place, and as he waved his shiny trophy, she whispered to herself, “I knew you could do it.”
Back home, her sketchbook filled up with Seungkwans—Seungkwan with a crown, Seungkwan with a microphone, Seungkwan peeling a tangerine with a big goofy grin. Grandpa caught her once, peering over her shoulder.
“Yah, is that the singing boy again?” he asked, grinning. “You’ve got a whole museum of him in there!”
“Harabeoji, shhh!” Y/N squeaked, slamming the book shut. “It’s a secret!”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” he said, winking. “But you should give him a tangerine in person one day. Bet he’d sing you a song for it.”
“No way!” Y/N yelped, her cheeks flaring up again. “I’d turn into a tangerine myself!”
One rainy afternoon, something wild happened. Seungkwan was late to class, and Y/N—caught off guard—hadn’t hidden her latest tangerine yet. She’d drawn a little stage on it, with a stick-figure Seungkwan singing. She froze as he slid into his seat, blinking at the fruit.
“Hey… this one’s got me on it!” he said, holding it up. He turned around, scanning the room. “Who’s the artist? Come on, own up!”
Y/N sank lower in her seat, her heart pounding. Their classmates giggled and shrugged, but Seungkwan’s eyes landed on her—just for a second. She thought she’d faint.
“You!” he said, pointing. “The quiet girl! Is it you?”
“N-no!” Y/N stammered, her voice a squeak. “I—I don’t draw!”
“Liar! Your cheeks are redder than this tangerine!” Seungkwan laughed, not meanly, but like he’d just solved a mystery. He peeled it and took a bite. “Well, whoever it is, you’re my favorite. Keep ‘em coming, okay?”
Y/N buried her face in her hands, but inside, she was glowing. Maybe, just maybe, her tangerines were braver than she was. And maybe one day, she’d find the courage to say “hi” to the boy who turned her shy little world into a song.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The tangerines stopped showing up on Seungkwan’s desk the very next day. He plopped into his chair, stared at the empty spot, and frowned. “Where’s my mystery fan?” he muttered, tapping his pencil like it’d summon the fruit out of thin air.
“Maybe they ran out of tangerines,” Doyun said, munching on a snack. “Or they got tired of your singing.”
“Impossible!” Seungkwan huffed, crossing his arms. “My voice is a gift! They’re probably just… shy. Yeah, that’s it. They’ll be back tomorrow.”
But tomorrow came, and the desk stayed empty. So did the next day. And the next. Seungkwan didn’t know it, but Y/N was gone—whisked away to Seoul that rainy night. Her parents had shown up at her grandparents’ house, their faces serious but soft.
“Sweetie, we’re taking you with us,” her mom said, brushing Y/N’s hair back. “Halmeoni and harabeoji are getting older, and we want you with us in Seoul. You’ll love it there—big city, new school, new adventures!”
“But… my friends…” Y/N mumbled, clutching her sketchbook. She didn’t have many friends, but there was Seungkwan—even if he didn’t know it.
Grandma smiled, patting her head. “You’ll make new ones, tangerine cheeks. And you should be with your mom and dad. We’ll be okay here.”
Her grandpa nodded. “Plus, Seoul’s got more tangerines than you can draw on!”
Y/N didn’t get to say goodbye—not to her teachers, not to her classmates, and definitely not to Seungkwan. The move was so fast, she barely had time to pack her pencils. And just like that, her quiet Jeju days—and her secret tangerine mission—were over.
Years passed, and Y/N settled into Seoul life. She didn’t hear a peep about Seungkwan—no news, no rumors, nothing. She figured he was still in Jeju, singing his heart out at school events. Meanwhile, she kept her tangerine habit alive. Every morning, she’d doodle on one—a smiley face, a little star, sometimes a “Have a good day!”—and leave it on the kitchen table for her parents.
“Y/N, you’re gonna turn us into tangerine fanatics!” her dad laughed one day, peeling one with a wobbly heart on it. “Where’d you learn this, huh?”
“It’s… just a thing I do,” Y/N said, her cheeks going pink. She couldn’t exactly say, Oh, I used to sneak these to my elementary crush who sang like an angel.
Her mom grinned. “Well, keep it up. It’s the cutest thing ever.”
Fast forward to high school. Y/N was sixteen now, still shy but with a tight little crew of friends. One afternoon, they were sprawled out at a convenience store, slurping ramyeon and chatting over the hum of the radio. Then, a song came on—bright, catchy, with a voice that hit Y/N like a lightning bolt.
“Ugh, I love this song!” her friend Jiwoo squealed, bobbing her head. “Seventeen’s the best.”
“Seventeen?” Y/N asked, tilting her head. “Who’s that?”
Jiwoo’s jaw dropped. “You don’t know Seventeen? They’re only the coolest boy group ever! Here, lemme list the members—there’s S.Coups, Jeonghan, Joshua, Jun, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Woozi, DK, Mingyu, The8, Seungkwan—”
“WAIT!” Y/N yelped, nearly dropping her chopsticks. “Did you say Seungkwan? Like… Boo Seungkwan?”
“Uh, yeah?” Jiwoo blinked. “You know him?”
Y/N didn’t answer. She was already on her feet, ramyeon forgotten. “I—I gotta go!”
She sprinted home, her sneakers slapping the pavement, and dove onto the couch like it was a lifeline. Her fingers fumbled with her phone as she typed “Seventeen Seungkwan” into the search bar. The screen lit up with photos, videos, and—oh my gosh—that face. Older, sharper, but still him. The boy from Jeju. The boy she’d drawn stars around. The boy who’d eaten her tangerines.
“HE’S IN SEOUL?!” she shrieked, loud enough to make her dad poke his head out of the kitchen.
“Y/N, you okay in there?” he called.
“YES! NO! MAYBE!” she yelled back, scrolling like her life depended on it. “Appa, he’s famous! Seungkwan’s famous!”
“Who’s Seungkwan?” her mom asked, wandering in with a tangerine—ironically, one Y/N had doodled a smile on that morning.
“My… my old classmate!” Y/N said, her voice a mix of shock and glee. “He’s in a group called Seventeen! Listen to this!” She hit play on a video, and there he was—Seungkwan, belting out a high note on some shiny stage, just like she’d always imagined.
Her parents exchanged a look. “Well,” her dad said, “guess your tangerine boy grew up.”
From that day on, Y/N was a carat—Seventeen’s biggest fan, though she’d argue she was Seungkwan’s original fan. She started small, dragging Jiwoo to their tiny showcase events. “Look at him!” she’d whisper, pointing at Seungkwan as he waved to the crowd. “He’s still so loud and bright!”
“Girl, you’re obsessed,” Jiwoo teased. “Why don’t you just yell, ‘Hey, I’m the tangerine girl!’?”
“No way!” Y/N squeaked, her cheeks flaring. “He’d think I’m weird!”
Years rolled by, and Seventeen got bigger—arenas, world tours, the works. Y/N was there for it all, clutching her lightstick, her sketches of Seungkwan now tucked away in a box under her bed. She’d watch him sing, laugh, and charm the crowd, and she’d smile to herself. He didn’t know she was out there, cheering him on like she always had. He didn’t know about the shy little girl who’d once left him tangerines with wobbly hearts.
One night, after a concert, she lingered outside with the crowd, clutching a tangerine she’d doodled on out of habit—a little “Fighting!” on the peel. She sighed, tossing it up and catching it.
“Some things never change,” she mumbled, grinning. “Keep shining, Seungkwan.”
And somewhere on that stage, Seungkwan was still the star she’d always known he’d be—tangerines or not.
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an: okay, while I was watching When Life Gives You Tangerines, I don’t know why I kept thinking of Seungkwan because of the title ‘tangerine’—and I remembered when he gave tangerines to the reporters. So, I thought of turning this into a short series, maybe? Hahaha, it’s cute! Hope you like it🫶🏻
Request: Hiiiii! Can I request a svt reaction to previously having a pretty bad fight but then reader calls them to tell them they feel sick? Love u <3
A/N: added a little extra of if/how the fights get resolved heheh
pairing: Wonwoo x reader
wc: 4.5k
genre: fluff, angst, long-distance relationship
(a/n): missing Wonwoo hours is officially on. I just wanted to post something for him before he leaves. Also thankyou cel ( @mylovesstuffs ) and ro ( @shinysobi ) for beta reading ^^
summary: Before leaving for military service, Wonwoo hands you a disposable camera, saying, "Take a picture whenever you think of me." At first, you laugh it off, but as the days pass, you find yourself reaching for the camera more often than you expected
The Departure
The night before he leaves, the air feels different—heavier, like the weight of unsaid words is pressing down on both of you.
You sat together on the couch, a blanket draped over both your legs, the TV playing a movie neither of you were really watching. Wonwoo’s arm was resting along the back of the couch, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his skin, but he hasn’t touched you in a while. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he knows the moment he does, it’ll make leaving that much harder.
You stole a glance at him. His face is calm, unreadable, but you know him too well to be fooled. His fingers drummed softly against the fabric of his sweatpants—restless. He’s been like this all evening, like he’s bracing himself for the inevitable.
“…You should go to bed soon,” he finally says, his voice quieter than usual. “You have to wake up early.”
Your throat tightens. So do you, you want to say, but instead, you shake your head. “Not sleepy.”
He exhales a soft laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Liar.”
