written by: 🥺
genre: little bit of angst, mostly fluff
warning(s): swearing, smoking/ vaping, mentions of alcohol
summary: skater!jisung is sickeningly sweet. he tastes it, too.
[1:26]
Clouds of steam swirl through the night air, obscured by streams of tangerine light from a nearby lamppost. It smells of something like candy-floss or bubblegum, though you can't tell which. There's not much difference between the two--they're both sickeningly sweet, causing you to scrunch your nose up at the smell. You really should be used to it by now, but for whatever reason, that's not the case.
"Don't listen to Jongmin. Half the time he's drunk, the other half he's high. Don't take anything he says seriously."
You chuckle humourlessly. "That's no different from you. I still take what you say seriously."
"Hey, I'm trying my best," Jisung exclaims in an accusatory tone. He lifts his hand and jabs his vape in your direction, "And I know for a fact that you don't take anything I say seriously."
"Well... Yeah, you're right."
You lean back on your hands. Cold concrete numbs your skin and you wince, but don't move away. Instead, you shiver and tug Jisung's leather jacket closer to your body.
"He's a dick. A massive one. I'll give him a piece of my mind next time I see him."
"You don't have to do that."
Jisung takes a long drag of his vape, holds it in for a few seconds then blows it out in a large puff. "I will. You call my best friend a-"
"Jisung."
"Right. Sorry," he says and clears his throat. "Say what he said, you deal with me."
You successfully suppress a laugh, but its not easy. You're grateful that Jisung is protective of you, but where he excels in toughness and trash-talk, he lacks in stature and physical capability.
"Thanks a lot, Sung."
"No problem."
You glance at Jisung. His skin glows and eyes sparkle in the warm, overhead light. A circle of light surrounds his messy, blonde hair like a halo, but you think he's the furthest from an angel that could ever be.
Jisung turns to you suddenly, those doe eyes gazing at you and you suddenly feel naked.
Vulnerable.
"You wanna see some tricks? I've been working on a few lately."
You simply nod. You watch Jisung grab his skateboard from where it lays at his feet and push himself off of the brick wall. With one swift movement he's skating down the ramp and up another. He stops at the peak, then jumps a little, twists around mid-air and skates back down.
He returns to you with a proud smile and, yeah, now you can see why he's so often mistaken for an angel--if you ignore the cuts littering his face, leather clinging to his skin and alcohol on his breath.
"Come on."
You stare at Jisung's outstretched hand and blink. "What?"
Jisung doesn't let you finish. Soon enough, you find yourself tumbling off the wall and into Jisung's arms. Your converse smack against the pavement and you almost crumple to the floor, but Jisung holds you up.
"Let me teach you."
"Jisung, I can't-"
But your words are of no use. Now clasping your hand, Jisung drags you to the flat section of the skatepark. He lets go to place his skateboard on the floor, then holds both hands out, palms facing up.
You make a face. "What do you want me to do?"
Jisung thrusts his hands in your direction. "Get on the skateboard. Hold my hands, you'll be alright."
"You won't let me fall?"
He draws a cross over his chest then extends his hands again. "Cross my heart."
You exhale a shaky breath; the puff of air forms clouds that eventually fade out, imitating Jisung's previous actions like an eager, younger sibling that can never quite live up to their older sibling's standard.
You step onto the skateboard. It rolls to the side a bit and you gasp in fear, but Jisung is quick to grab your elbows and, wow, you're a lot closer like this, so much so that you can smell the mint gum and candy-floss (or bubblegum) on his breath.
With a reassuring smile, Jisung begins to guide you, urging you to tilt your body to the side and reposition your feet. He pulls you gently to the left, directing you on when to place your foot down and the exact pressure to use when you push yourself forward.
"You're good at this," Jisung proclaims, but you can't tell if he's being truthful or not. "Ready for me to let go?"
"Oh god, please no."
Jisung chuckles and his fingers dig into your skin. "Alright then."
You expect Jisung to pull you along again, to repeat his previous instructions and praise you for doing the bare minimum once more. But when you look up, Jisung is frozen. His eyes sparkle like he's stored the galaxy in them, and you don't think you've ever seen Jisung like this, let alone so close. He's full to the brim with a strange sort of emotion that you can't entirely place but-
Oh.
You notice Jisung's eyes flicker down to your lips. Only for a brief second, but you see it all the same. You recognise the emotion now—it's impossible not to. You've seen Jisung kiss people before, have sat bitterly in the corner of a house party as Jisung made out with whatever guy or girl he could find, so you know that look: it's lust. Or, perhaps, love. You can't tell, only hope.
But you recognise want. Need. And maybe you really need this too.
"Can I kiss you?"
It'd be a big fat lie to say that Jisung isn't an abrupt person, so it's really no surprise that he's the one who makes the first move. But if anything, you expected Jisung to just kiss you without asking. Instead, he requests permission gently, and the lust is still discernible, but it's softer than you have ever seen it.
You nod wordlessly. Jisung doesn't move so, now desperate for Lord knows what, you say, "Kiss me."
You hate how needy you sound, but Jisung doesn't seem to notice. The air around you is so cold, but Jisung is warm. Cold lips against warm lips, cold skin against warm skin, cold breath against warm breath.
When Jisung slips his tongue into your mouth you can tell that, yeah, it's definitely candy-floss.
And it's sickeningly sweet, but that's alright. Because when Jisung finally pulls away and confesses that he loves you, you realise that, despite his tough image, he is sickeningly sweet too.
written by: 🐝
genre: pure, tooth-rotting fluff
warnings: none
+++
bang chan
• pretends not to notice when u take his hoodies bc he secretly loves it sosososo much
• he calls u baby and u call him sweetheart 💘💘
• chan wants to marry u so bad ,,
• im not even kidding
• he has a ring picked out and everything
• will give u piggybacks bc he’s rlly strong and wants u to hold onto him tightly and needs an excuse
• chan is buff as hell but wbk
• omg boyfriend!chan is just 😙👌
minho
• matching/coordinating outfits!!
• minho is more reserved about pda, but when ur alone he’s a huge cuddlebug and might actually squeeze u to death with all of his love.
• definitely the jealous type but refuses to let it get in the way of ur relationship bc he doesn’t want to lose u
• we stan a healthy relationship 😌😌
• congratulations ur now step-parent to 3 cats!!
• for real tho,, soonie, doongie, and dori love u,,,
• u and minho baby them sm
changbin
• u call him binnie and he calls u peanut 🥺🥺🥺
• he looks tough but he’s actually the softest boy ever
• brb just sobbing about soft!changbin
• will pepper ur face with kisses every time he holds u in his arms,, he’s so jacked u can’t escape,,,
• not that ur mad abt it tho
• changbin getting buff is the least of ur problems
• what IS a problem is stopping him from fighting every person that mildly inconveniences u
• “ugh my teacher shortened the deadline for the essay, i’m not sure i’ll be able to finish it in time.”
• “dw, peanut. i’ll fight him for u.”
• “nO DONT DO THAT I’LL FAIL MY CLASS-“
• he does it out of love.
• which reminds me
• changbin definitely said ‘i love u‘ first
hyunjin
• taking!! pictures!!! of!! each!!! other!!
• i’m not even kidding. hyunjin will just take random pictures of u throughout the day and fawn over them like
• omg 🥺🥺 das my lil baby 🥺🥺🥺
• say goodbye to all the storage on ur phone lmao
• ya’ll spend 99% of ur time together touching
• and not even in the sexual way, hyunjin’s just really affectionate and doesn’t like being away from u
• skinship for days!!!
• cuddling, kisses, u name it and he will glaaaadly provide it for u
jisung
• quiet, intimate moments together are common
• he’s rlly energetic with skz bc they’re his boys, y’know?
• but with u he lives for the domesticity ya’ll have.
• like bickering when ur making dinner or washing the dishes together and listening to ur favourite music
• (im so soft for sungie rn omggg)
• he’s quite the homebody. it’s his safe place.
• jisung doesn’t want elaborate dates or days packed full of activities, he just wants quiet time with u 😙💓
• (btw he’s the most loyal and committed person alive, will definitely bark at any man, woman or child that even looks in his direction)
felix
• ya’ll clown the SHIT out of each other 🤡🤡
• “felix it is physically impossible for u to be the bigger person in this situation, ur legit only 5”7.”
• “i’m sorry?? is the unemployed person speaking???”
• it’s all in good fun tho bc u two are ACTUALLY the sweetest couple out there
• not even joking,,
• u call him sunshine and he calls u dearest
• bc u are dearest to him 🥺🥺
• gentle kisses pressed to ur temple, with his hand on the small of ur back are an everyday occurrence
• so are wake up kisses, goodnight kisses, forehead kisses, butterfly kisses...
• lixie wants kithes 😡😡
seungmin
• 💘🥰💖✨ napping together 💕💝😘❤️
• ya’ll just lay on the sofa, draped over each other, and just snooze for hours
• u call him minnie and he calls u sweetpea 🥺🥺
• likes to teach u how to play baseball
• and by teach i mean u purposely pretending not to know anything so he’ll put his arms around u to teach u how to bat properly,,
• it’s very sexy okay
• he sings to u all. the. time.
• it’s mesmerising.
• he’ll catch u gazing up at him with big puppy eyes and bursts out giggling
• i love seungmin if u couldn’t tell already (this goes for both of us kbsjsgsvbs)
jeongin
• tries to act tough to impress u
• we all know he’s babie tho ☺️☺️
• PRANK 👏 WARS 👏
• when u were sleeping he changed all the contact names in ur phone to his name.
• “what did u do to my phone?”
• 👁👄👁
• “jeongin.”
• “i didn’t do anything.”
• “really?”
• “i can’t believe u would accuse me of something i didn’t even do, it’s quite preposterous-“
• “yang jeongin. tell me why i got a text from ‘best member of stray kids, I.N’ at 2.33am asking for the answers to the math homework. i know damn well ur dumbass doesn’t go to my school.”
• 😳😳😳 “it wasn’t me.”
• in all seriousness, ya’ll are a rlly goofy, soft couple.
• he’s ALWAYS holding ur hand. no matter what.
my heart is…..HXRHXJGSJYFDWACUNFRHOVF
nct dream x reader (fem!reader in some)
genre: fluff, (attempted) humour, established relationship
warnings: mention of a razor, mentions of food, one sex joke
summary: after spending some time scrolling on tik tok, you came across a cute couple’s prank video and decided to use it on your partner to see his reaction.
word count: 4.8K (400-900 words each)
A/N: heheh hellooooo~ finally decided to write another nct dream fic. hopefully you all like it? lmk what you think 💛💛 and don’t be shy to leave a comment/reblog~ thank you for reading! 🥰
MARK — pretending to shave his eyebrows a little too thin
‘hold still!’
‘dude, i’m trying! it hurts!’ mark let out between laughs, trying to control his squirming limbs after you plucked out a single hair from his eyebrows using your tweezer. you sat still for a bit, pursing your lips to hold back your own chuckles, a mock expression of annoyance plastered across your features as you stared at your boyfriend’s face resting on your lap.
‘you done? can i continue now?’
‘wait wait wait,’ he said before taking a few deep breaths, trying to swallow his giggles. he wasn’t sure why he found the whole situation funny, but he couldn’t help it, looking your annoyed pout. after one last breath, he adjusted his head a little on your lap and closed his eyes. ‘okay. i’m ready—wait,’ he opened his eyes and then closed them again. ‘okay,’ he whispered, but the moment your hand got closer to his forehead, his eyes shot open once more. ‘wait!’
‘what now?’
‘can’t you do something to not make it hurt so much? my eyes are literally watering.’
‘markkk it’s not the first time you’re getting your eyebrows done,’ you whined, feeling a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
‘okay true, but the lady at the salon does it so much bet–’ he stopped himself from completing the sentence, sealing his lips before bursting out in tiny giggles once more. ‘no, i’m sorry you’re doing good,’ he said as he tilted his head backwards to look at your face in an attempt to make sure he didn’t hurt your feelings.
you didn’t respond and he got a little concerned, holding your wrist and shaking it a little. ‘i’m sorryyyyy. don’t be upset.’
you scrunched up your nose, tossing him a playful frown, attempting to hide the mischief cooking up in your head. ‘i’m not upset. but if you don’t want it to hurt, i’m gonna have to use a razor.’
‘my razor?!’ he exclaimed loudly, eyes almost popping out of his socket as he tried to sit up, though you simply pushed his shoulders back down with a small chuckle.
‘no, you idiot. my eyebrow razor. the tiny one,’ you said as you reached over to the side table, rummaging through your makeup bag, pulling out a little purple brow razor. ‘this one.’ mark’s lips rounded a little to form an ‘o’ as he silently nodded in understanding. he relaxed his body once more and closed his eyes.
‘okay go for it.’
you simpered and shook your head. getting to work, you quickly cleaned up the little edges around his shapely brows. in a few seconds, your work was done—though you didn’t care to tell your boyfriend that, having a rather nefarious plot in mind.
trying to control yourself from letting out the impish giggles bubbling up in your throat, you ran the back of the razor lightly across his skin, making it seem as if you were still shaving his brows. the plan was to pretend to shave his eyebrows too thin, and use the “thin eyebrows” filter on him to show him the end result.
knowing your oblivious boyfriend, he wouldn’t even think twice and immediately freak out at the sight.
a few seconds passed, and you brought the blunt side a little lower than anticipated, eliciting a slight frown from mark, though he didn’t say a word. biting your bottom lip to conceal your chuckles, you continued running the plastic lightly across his skin before pushing it down further on his brow once more.
right then, mark cracked open his eyes. ‘don’t you think you’re going a little too far?’
‘what do you mean?’ you feigned innocence. ‘no i’m not.’
‘no but i can feel it, babe. don’t go so low. i don’t want thinner eyebrows.’
‘don’t worry, okay? trust me. i won’t mess them up. i promise.’ your reassurance put mark’s mind at ease and he relaxed against your crossed legs.
once you were done, you unlocked your phone to get the tik tok filter ready. ‘okay, all done. look, they look so good,’ you said as you angled the phone screen to face him.
for a split second mark didn’t seem to notice anything; and then all of a sudden… his jaw dropped. he quickly grabbed the phone from your hand, leaning forward to take a closer look, a look of panic in his eyes.
‘dude… you didn’t! y/n…’ he whined, at a complete loss for words. ‘baby they’re too thin,’ he said in a slightly glum tone, not a single giggle leaving his lips. he tilted his head up to look at you. ‘babe i told you you were shaving them too thin.’
‘but they look good!’ you insisted between swallowed chuckles, trying to keep your composure.
‘they don’t. i’m gonna have to go out like this now…’
you were starting to feel a little bad for your boyfriend, looking at the absolute desolation on his face. he looked upset, and if you were being honest, a little disappointed. not being able to handle seeing him all pouty and defeated any longer, you gave into your laughs while he looked on in confusion.
‘this isn’t funny, y/n!’
‘it is, because it’s a prank.’
‘what do you mean it’s a prank?’
‘go look in the mirror,’ you said between giggles.
mark shot up from the bed and immediately ran to the vanity mirror, staring at his brows intensely, feather-light touches caressing the expanse of them as if touching too harshly would make the little hairs fall off. the moment he realised that his beautiful eyebrows were of the same thickness they usually were, a look of relief washed over his features.
he turned to glare at you as you continued laughing at his reaction, eliciting giggles out of him. he rushed back over to you, tackling you to lie on your back as he hovered over you, his fingers attacking your sides.
‘you find this real funny, huh?’ he asked as he laughed along with you, your body squirming to push him away as you begged him to stop tickling you. complying with your request, he stopped, opting to simply hover over you with an exasperated smile plastered across his face. ‘you almost gave me a heart attack, you know that?’ he asked, caressing your cheek lightly, a fond look in his eyes.
‘i’m sorry,’ you responded, pinching his cheeks. ‘your panicked face is just very cute.’
RENJUN — asking him “when are you going to make things official?” as his fiancée
you walked into the kitchen to see renjun standing by the kitchen counter, his back towards you. slowly padding closer, you carefully snaked your arms around him as to not startle him, and placed a kiss on his cheek.
‘good morning,’ he said sweetly, busy placing tea leaves into the infuser ball in the teapot.
‘morning~ whatchu doing?’
‘what does it look like?’ he asked with a small chuckle and you playfully pressed your chin down on his shoulder. ‘ow!’
‘that’s for the attitude.’
‘you’re the one asking stupid questions.’
and that’s when it hit you. it was a beautiful morning… to annoy your favourite human with stupid questions—just like those couples on tik tok.
‘renjun.’
‘hm?’ he responded, busy pouring boiled water into the teapot to steep the green tea.
‘when are you gonna make things official?’
‘what do you mean?’
‘like between us. when are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend?’ the man in your embrace turned to you with a raised eyebrow, offering you an unimpressed look. ‘what?’ you asked, pretending to not understand why he’d have such a reaction.
‘did you hit your head somewhere?’
you let out a fake gasp and let him go, taking a step back to stare at him in surprise, a hand on your chest. ‘why? what’s so bad about asking you to make me your girlfriend? it’s been years and you never officially asked me.’
without even lifting his gaze from the bread he was buttering, the man deadpanned, ‘y/n i’m your fiancé.’
‘yeah and…?’
‘and you want me to ask you to be my girlfriend—a few months before our wedding?’ he framed his question more like a statement.
‘yes.’
your fiancé rolled his eyes with a small chuckle. ‘babe it’s too early in the morning for this. go bother the cat.’
‘hey!’ you frowned playfully and jabbed the side of his waist, prompting him to jump away with a laugh. in a split second, he grabbed your wrists to stop you from assaulting him with tickles again.
‘what do you want from meeee?’
‘ask me to be your girlfriend,’ you pouted, swinging his arms along with yours.
renjun shook his head with small sigh before breaking into a slight smirk. ‘you are such a clown. but fine,’ he said as he released your wrists to hold both of your hands in his. ‘y/n, my love, my wife to be, will you… be my girlfriend?’ he proposed, his tone laced with sarcasm.
‘hey, lose the attitude.’
he let out a laugh. ‘okay, okay,’ he said as he took a little breath to compose himself. ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ he asked with a soft, almost hushed voice, his gaze even softer.
‘yes!’ you responded with a bright, toothy grin.
he shook his head fondly, admiring you for a moment before leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your lips. ‘i love you, you absolute clown.’
JENO — stepping away every time he comes close
you were lying on your bed, scrolling on your phone when jeno walked in: soaking in sweat, cheeks a little red, his breath slightly laboured from the run back home. he greeted you as he dropped his gym bag by the dresser and quickly padded his way over to you, offering you a hug—one which you refuse immediately.
‘uh uh absolutely not. i just showered. i suggest you do the same,’ you said as you pushed at his chest the moment he got too close. your boyfriend pouted at your rejection but understood. standing straight, he pulled off his tank top from the collar before making his way to the bathroom, dropping the sweaty garment in the laundry basket on the way.
a good 20 minutes later, jeno emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his favourite sweats and t-shirt, the tips of his hair still holding onto little beads of water that fell on his shoulders. after fluffing his hair with a towel once more, he hung the damp cloth on the towel rack before making his way out of the bedroom. he’d heard the sound of pots and pans clanging, a strong aroma of his favourite food filling the air, leading him to the kitchen.
as soon as he spotted you by the stove, he happily made his way towards you to hug you from the back. though right as he got closer… you noticed his presence and stepped to the side. jeno let out a small noise of confusion, tilting his head slight as he watched you stir the pot.
‘baby. i already showered.’
‘mhm i can see that. good for you. hand me the salt, please.’ he furrowed his brows at your monotonous tone, but handed you the salt anyway. ‘thank you.’
your boyfriend stood beside you at a small distance while you seasoned the food. you could feel his gaze on you, and from the corner of your eye, you could see the way his lips pouted just a little as he wondered why you were behaving the way you were. you bit your lip, trying to control your expression from breaking out into a smile, knitting your brows together in apparent concentration, busying yourself with the curry you were cooking.
jeno brushed off his worried thoughts, not knowing what he could’ve done to upset you. he stepped closer once more in an attempt to lean in and rest his chin on your shoulder, but you immediately let go of the wooden spoon in your hand and slid away, walking towards the kitchen sink.
your boyfriend observed you for a second while you pretended to look around, simultaneously trying your best to swallow the giggles building up in your chest. biting his bottom lip, he knit his brows in worry.
‘are you mad?’
‘hm?’
‘are you mad at me?’
‘no. why would you think that?’ you asked as you turned around to face him, feigning ignorance. the man in front of you walked closer once more, but you moved away again, walking over to the cabinet, taking two plates out.
‘because you keep moving away every time i come close.’
‘i don’t know what you’re talking about,’ you brushed him off, trying your best to not break character. part of you definitely felt bad. you could see how worried your boyfriend looked—and while it was entertaining, you knew you had to end the prank soon before you actually hurt his feelings.
jeno took a step towards you, and you took a step back. he took another step forward, and again, you took another step back, a small smile making its way to your lips. ‘see you’re doing it again!’
his exclamation was your final straw, and you burst out laughing, placing the plates in your hand onto the kitchen counter. ‘why are you laughing?’ he asked in a small voice, a pout evident on his face.
with a bright smile, you stretched your arms out, inviting him for a warm embrace. ‘come here.’
‘no. now i’m not going to.’
‘nooooo, i’m sorryyy,’ you dragged on fondly, walking closer and wrapping your arms around his torso, pulling him into you. the man caged in your arms stayed still, not moving an inch; so you shook his body a little, finally eliciting a breathy giggle from his lips as his arms made their way to close around your frame.
‘now you wanna hug me, huh?‘
you smiled and pulled away. ‘it was just a prank. i’m sorry,’ you pouted and leaned in to pepper kisses on his cheek. jeno’s smile deepened, breathy giggles leaving his lips as his eyes disappeared into cute little crescents. he brought his hand up to your cheek, gently massaging his thumb across the expanse of it when he suddenly caught the scent of smoke.
‘is something burning?’
you gasped. ‘the curry!’
HAECHAN — yelling embarrassing things in public
your boyfriend had been playing little pranks on you all morning, irritating the hell out of you.
from hiding behind walls to scare you, to pretending you lost your phone in the cafe when really, he’d sneaked it into his pocket—snickering as you freaked out in the car, and then stopping you right before you opened the car door to rush back to the cafe, waving the phone in front of your face with the most satisfied smile plastered across his devious features. he’d tried every trick in the book.
now you two were walking through the isles in the supermarket, with him pushing the shopping trolley. he made a stop right in front of the cereal isle, eyes scanning over the different brands and flavours. while he was busy picking out cereal, you decided it was the perfect time to exact your revenge. pulling out your phone discreetly, you started filming, wanting to capture his reaction to rewatch later.
the plan was simple: you were just going to say things to make your boyfriend blush, and film his reddening cheeks and embarrassed giggles. if there was one thing you knew about haechan, it was that despite his playful personality, he was a little too easy to fluster.
‘which cereal do you want?’ he broke you out of your thoughts.
‘hm, what?’
‘which cereal do you want to get?’ he repeated himself, eyes trained on the colourful boxes in front of him.
smiling deviously, you looked around to make sure nobody was nearby. the plan was to fluster your boyfriend, not embarrass him in front of strangers who could see his face. after a quick scan of the parameters, you responded with a voice a little too loud for even your own liking.
‘no, i will not have sex with you in the store!’
haechan’s head snapped towards your direction in a millisecond, his face contorted in a mixture of surprise, amusement and horror.
‘what are you doing?’ his whisper-yelled, letting out an incredulous, breathy laugh, his eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets.
you sent a mischievous wink his way, looking around once more. ‘in the cereal section too?! are you out of your mind?’
‘shhh,’ he stepped closer and tried to cover your mouth while controlling his laughter, simultaneously causing you to end the video recording you were making. there was a blush creeping up his neck, settling in his cheeks and ears as he looked around to make sure nobody had at least seen their faces. ‘are you out of your mind? they’re gonna kick us out,’ he whispered as your chest shook with joy. ‘now shut it,’ he said with a small chuckle, removing his hand from your mouth.
‘i could yell again.’
‘that’s it, i’m pretending i don’t know you.’ he turned around and held the handle of the trolley, immediately pushing it in the opposite direction away from you, but you grabbed hold of his hood, tugging it back slightly. haechan let out a slight yelp and turned to you in surprise. ‘you trying to kill me?!’ he whisper-shouted.
‘don’t be so dramatic,’ you quipped between laughs that only got louder.
raising an eyebrow he walked closer until he was merely inches away from you, pretending to stare you down with an intimidating glare. one that barely lasted more than a second before he burst out laughing along with you, shaking his head at your amusement.
‘had your fun?’
you nodded enthusiastically, and he nodded along. ‘got your reaction, too,’ you added with a cheeky smile, waving your phone in his face, making him roll his eyes playfully.
‘i’m glad my misery makes you so happy. you’re lucky there aren’t many people in the store,’ he remarked as he shook his head fondly and kissed your forehead. ‘now come on, seriously. grab a cereal so we can get out of here.’
JAEMIN — telling him you paid $100 for windshield wiper fluid
‘i went to get my car serviced earlier today.’
‘hm, really? that’s great,’ jaemin mumbled absentmindedly in a low voice, focused on editing photos on his computer. you pouted, staring at his back as you sat cross-legged on his bed. you’d been trying to get his attention for a good hour now, but his eyes never seemed to leave the computer screen. deciding you’d had enough, you quickly made up your mind to prank him in an attempt to break his concentration.
‘yeah they were really nice too. they even gave me a discount on the wiper fluid.’
‘hm, that’s nice.’
you glared at the back of your boyfriend’s head for a second, dissatisfied at the lack of attention. ‘yeah they said $100 was a pretty good deal,’ you quipped in a nonchalant voice, unlocking your phone, pretending to read something on the screen.
jaemin turned around abruptly in his desk chair. ‘what?’
‘what?’ you replied, looking up at him in confusion, as if you didn’t understand why he had such a surprised look on his face.
‘what did you just say? $100? for what?’
‘for the wiper fluid. they said they were giving it to me 50% off—that it’s usually a whole lot more expensive.’
your boyfriend let out a dramatic gasp, breathing in deeply as his chest expanded ‘baby. you’re joking, right? this is a joke?’
‘no? why would i be joking?’
‘are you serious?’
‘what? they said changing the fluid was important,’ you shrugged off the panicked look on his face.
‘yeah but not for $100!’ he exclaimed. he looked as if his soul was about to leave his body. ‘who are these people? give me their number,’ he said in an urgent tone as he picked up his phone.
‘wait, why? i thought 50% was a pretty good deal.’
‘babe, it’s literally just a 1-minute job. i could’ve done it for you for free. windshield wiper fluid isn’t even that expensive. it costs $5 max.’
‘they said this one was premium.’
‘wh– what premium?’ he let out an incredulous laugh. ‘there is no premiu– ohmygod i can’t believe they actually thought they could get away with this.’ he looked angry, not with you—but with the people who’d apparently “scammed you”. biting down on your bottom lip, you concealed the smile creeping up on your face.
‘you went to the same place i go to, right?’ he asked and you hummed in agreement. ‘okay, hold on,’ he mumbled while scrolling on his phone, quickly clicking on the contact.
‘wait, no. are you calling them?’ you sat up on your knees, a little panicked. jaemin nodded, an angry crease between his brows as he held the phone up against his ear. ‘hang up!’
‘wh– why?’ he asked right before you heard the faint sound of a “hello?” coming from the phone speaker. you lunged towards him, quickly snatching the phone out of his hand, promptly hanging up. your lips were sealed in a tight line as you looked at your boyfriend, eyes blown wide as if you were a kid that just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
jaemin looked a little confused as he glanced between his phone in your clutches and your surprised, yet relieved expression. ‘this was a prank, wasn’t it?’ he asked, finally catching on.
‘well obviously! do you think i’m that stupid?’
‘i don’t know! i can never tell with you!’ he retorted. you smacked his shoulder lightly and he let out a little laugh.
‘what is that supposed to mean?’
‘nothing. i’m just glad you didn’t actually throw all that money away on wiper fluid,’ he laughed. ‘this was such a pointless prank. what did you get from doing this anyway?’
‘you weren’t giving me any attention,’ you frowned with a small pout.
‘aww,’ jaemin cooed at you between small giggles. ‘you could’ve just said that you wanted attention, angel,’ he drawled out as he pulled you to stand between his legs, his hands on either side of your waist. ‘you don’t have to try and give me a heart attack.’
you crossed your arms and looked away, knitting your brows together. ‘how was i supposed to do that? you weren’t even listening to me before.’
jaemin squeezed your waist slightly, catching your attention, smiling at you with a soft look in his eyes. ‘okay, hold on,’ he whispered before letting go of your waist and backing his chair up a little to turn around halfway. you stepped back, observing his movements as he quickly moved the cursor on the screen to save his progress before closing all the windows and shutting down his computer.
turning to face you once more, he stood up with a bright smile and held your cheeks in his palms.
‘i’m all yours now,’ he whispered right as he leaned in to press a soft kiss against your lips.
CHENLE — giving him your hand to see what he does
chenle was sat on the sofa, eyes glued to the television screen when you walked in and stood next to the armrest. turning to look at you, a gentle smile made its way onto his lips.
‘hi baby.’
you returned his smile and extended your hand, palm facing up. your husband looked at you with a glint of confusion before his gaze travelled to your open palm. slowly, he grabbed your hand and turned it over, leaning in to place a kiss at the back of it. his eyes travelled back to lock with yours, blinking innocently as he tried to gauge your reaction. your expression remained unchanged (save from how your smile had deepened slightly, heart swelling up at how adorable your love looked).
you pulled your hand out of his loose grip, wanting to confuse him further, and turned it the other way around once more. and it worked. if your husband wasn’t perplexed then, he surely was now. he tried to play along with your “guessing game”, grabbing the tv remote, lifting it while raising his eyebrows at you as if asking, “is this what you want?”
when you didn’t respond, he simply placed the remote on your hand, waiting to see how you’d react.
you didn’t.
chenle broke out in small fits of laughter as he took the remote back, placing it beside his thigh. ‘what do you want?’
your lips remained sealed, and your hand extended further. he leaned over to examine your palm for a moment, brows knit in concentration as he tried to look for anything new—anything amiss; though he could not find nothing. he gaze returned to your face and the two of you stared at each other in silence, before a lightbulb seemed to go off above his head. letting out a small sigh, he reached for his wallet, fishing out his credit card and placing it on your palm.
‘happy now? is that what you want?’
closing your fist around the card, you doubled over in laughter. you husband stared at you with a puzzled, yet amused expression. ‘have the screws gone loose in your head? do we need to go to the doctor?’
you shook your head as you tried to control your laughter. ‘i was just playing around to see what you’d do. but thank you for the card~’ you said cheekily before quickly scurrying away, small giggles leaving your lips.
‘hey wait, no!’ he protested but you were already out of sight. ‘fine, buy me something too!’ he called out before shaking his head with a small chuckle, returning his attention back to the tv show he was watching.
JISUNG — calling him by his full name
finally taking a break from shopping, you and jisung decided to sit in a cozy little cafe right outside the mall. well, it was just you in the coffee shop at first—your boyfriend having rushed away after leaving the shopping bags with you, claiming he’d forgotten to buy something important for jeno.
as you sat and waited for jisung to return, you mindlessly scrolled through tik tok, chuckling at a video every now and then. after a few minutes of scrolling, you came across a video of a man pranking his girlfriend by calling her by her full name. the idea felt harmless enough—and after the incredibly exhausting day you’d had… maybe a few laughs were in order.
just as you decided to prank your boyfriend by calling out his full name, the man in question approached the table, taking a seat opposite you.
‘hey, you’re back! bought what you wanted?’
jisung nodded, looking a little too excited. he looked around awkwardly as if he was trying to hide something and cleared his throat. ‘i uh… i’m gonna go look at what drinks they have. did you order anything?’
‘not yet.’
‘what do you want, the usual?’ he asked as he stood up and you nodded. right as he turned and took a step towards the front counter, you called out to him.
‘park jisung!’
your boyfriend turned around, looking a little confused, eyes blown out in surprise. his expression made you giggle a little. he looked so adorable, it almost made you want to give up on the idea of pranking him.
almost.
‘get me a cookie as well, please?’
‘uh… okay,’ he drawled out awkwardly, blinking a couple of times before turning around and walking to the counter. you could see how he tilted his head, obviously wondering what he’d done for you to call out his full name like that.
a few minutes later, he returned with the drinks and small paper bag that contained a giant cookie.
‘here you go.’
‘thanks, jisung.’
jisung knit his brows together, sputtering a little. ‘y-you’re welcome,’ he stuttered with an awkward smile. you pressed your lips together as you observed how he’d zoned out. you could almost see the gears in his head turning as he tried to figure out what was going on. and just to push him over the edge, you called out his name once more.
‘jisung. don’t forget we have to grab lunch for hyuck. he asked for sandwiches from that new shop down the road.’
there was a tense silence between you two as the man in front of you tilted his head, eyes observing your features.
‘did i do something?’ he finally broke the silence.
‘what do you mean?’ you asked nonchalantly as you sipped your drink.
‘are you mad at me?’ he asked, his expression falling. when you didn’t respond within a second, he continued, ‘is this because i didn’t let you buy that necklace? i only did that so i could buy it for you myself as a surprise. see, it’s right here,’ he rambled as he pulled out a small velvet box from his inner jacket pocket.
any resolve you had to keep yourself poker-faced broke in that very moment as your chest swelled up with adoration, a small pout making it’s way onto your lips.
‘jisungie~ sweetheart you are so cute~’ you pouted, your chest tightening at the fact that you’d worried him so much. ‘i’m sorry, love,’ you apologised as you reached over and pinched his stretchy cheeks while he looked on, a little clueless.
‘you’re not mad?’
‘no, love. i’m not mad. i was just playing around.’
‘are you sure? because i really am sorry for being so pushy about not getting the necklace.’
you shook your head with a small giggle, hand travelling up to gently brush over his soft hair in an attempt to reassure him. ‘no sweetheart, not at all. first of all… i knew you were doing that because you wanted to buy it. you’re very obvious—you stared at that thing longer than i did,’ you joked. ‘it really was just a harmless prank i saw on tik tok.’
finally letting himself relax, jisung clicked his tongue, eyes darting to the side. ‘you’re evil, you know that? ruined my surprise. i really thought you were mad at me.’
‘all i did was say your name!’ you laughed.
‘exactly. how often do you call me by my name? my full name at that! you only use park jisung,’ he mocked your tone, ‘when you’re upset at something i did.’
you bit your bottom lip at his adorable little rant, chuckling slightly, fluffing his hair up a little. ‘i love you,’ you said cheekily before kissing the air, making him blush and look away.
‘yeah yeah okay. i love you too,’ he muttered as he scratched the back of his head, failing to conceal the shy smile painted across his features. taking his free hand into yours, you laced your fingers together, prompting him to look your way. catching his gaze, you winked at him. jisung rolled his eyes playfully, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he tried to sip his coffee in an attempt to ignore his heated cheeks at your little displays of affection.
tag list: @fylithia @skiez @john-joong @haechanight @at1nys-blog @lost-leopard-beanie @laikaya @theirbbygirl @helo-xx @channies-luv @g-bbzz @rosesarentme @wrongbitch24 @ddaengpotate @cookiemonstermusic258 @dani41 @daydreaming-my-life-away @lee--felix @woofwoofbangbang
HIII MY LOVE
i was just wondering if you could do something with a foreigner!reader, who doesn’t speak korean, with han?? where they have a hard time communicating but they still wanna be together??
(btw if you have anons can i be 🪻??)
hi, love~ this was so cute, really interesting to write . this took a while but it was so worth it hehe . yes you can, my first emoji anon yayy . here you go~~
pairing: idol!han jisung x female!reader
summary: the language barrier between you and jisung stops your true feelings from being communicated.
genre: angsty but happy ending, idol!au, reader is a stylist, mentions of injuries, blood, cuts, bandages, antiseptics, broken glass, jisung doesn't like being injured, chan's iconic smirk comeback, hints to chanlix and minsung, mentions of wrestling, kissing, nothing too intense i promise
a/n: this is one of my fav fics that i've written tbh . everything in bold + italic is spoken in korean. just a note !
skz masterlist
"How long have you been watching him?" Felix whispers into your ear.
"Huh?"
He smirks, nodding his head towards Jisung, who's currently messing about on set with Minho. "You've been watching him."
You scoff and push him away. "No, I haven't."
"Yes, you have."
Groaning, you brush past Felix and wander past the cameras to the other side of the MV set. It's almost midday; the sun beats down relentlessly on the pavements outside, bathing everything in a bright glow, but inside the warehouse, the lights are dimmed in shades of red, green and white, casting an eerie palette over the broken glass and haphazard items scattered about the dusty floor.
Your eyes wander to one of the camera tripods; 'ESCAPE FILMING' is written on a piece of masking tape and stuck to the side. Your gaze flits to Chan and Hyunjin; both of them are raggedy, slender figures in heavy coats and coarse clothing. They're busy talking to their manager; you duck off to the side and run straight into Felix again.
You groan. "Go away."
"Come on," he murmurs. "Go talk to him."
It's been almost a month since you took the job as a stylist with JYPE; it had been interesting, to say the least. The members took to you immediately, teasing and friendly within a couple of days. You were in awe; they were such professionals you'd been assigned to work around, but one of them had caught your eye.
Jisung.
You feel your cheeks warm as you watch him; Felix is motionless beside you, no doubt smirking, but your heart sinks as you hear the distant lilt of excitable Korean floating over the set to your ears.
"Y/n, go," Felix insists. "Talk to him."
"And how am I supposed to do that?" You whip around to face him. "I don't speak Korean, and he doesn't know enough English to be fluent in a conversation with me."
"He sings in English," Felix points out, adjusting the cuff of his hoodie. His black cap- Chan's cap- sits low on his head.
"That's because he has you and Chan to help him." You groan.
This would be so much easier if the rest of the members weren't here. You wonder what they're here for, anyway; they said they came to support Chan and Hyunjin while they filmed their music video, but you have a sneaking suspicion it was just to get out of an extra dance practice Chan scheduled for the remaining members while he was away. No doubt the maknaes' idea.
You'd fought to stay focused on doing Hyunjin's makeup that same morning; he hadn't missed the way your hand shook around your eyeshadow brush when Jisung had breezed in with a cheerful shout. If Hyunjin had noticed, he hadn't said anything, and the resulting makeup look had thankfully turned out just fine.
"Y/n."
You whip around so fast your neck hurts, and you almost trip over your own feet as you come face-to-face with Jisung. He's dressed casually, as most of the members are; his grey zip hoodie is slightly dusty, loose black jeans showing a peek of startingly white shoes beneath their hems.
His face is bare, void of makeup, and you can see the healthy pink flush on his cheekbones and the tip of his nose. His lashes blink away strands of un-styled, dark hair falling into his face; he sweeps it back effortlessly with two fingers, and his wide eyes fix themselves onto your own, a cheerful grin painting his lips.
You look around wildly for Felix to save you; he's conveniently disappeared into thin air, and you curse inwardly as you're forced to face Jisung once more. There's nowhere to run.
"Hi." Your voice sounds thin and awkward.
"Hi." He replies, an equally awkward but adorable smile curving his mouth further. Even the simple syllable sounds odd and unfamiliar to him, it seems. Tinged with his accent, the sound coming out of his mouth looks like he tasted something unusual; new and curious, but strange.
Foreign.
You stutter, unable to comprise a singular sentence. Even if you were able to at the moment, it's unlikely Jisung will understand. The past few interactions with him have shown you that.
You try anyway. "Did you need something?"
He blinks. Takes apart each word in his mind, turns his cognitive gears, and a dawning sense of confusion appears on his face despite the effort to understand. "Chan-hyung ruined his makeup again. He's busy with his outfit, but he sent me to ask you if you could quickly touch it up for him? If you're not busy..."
You're running, sprinting even, to keep up with Jisung's rapid pace of speaking. Korean tumbles out of his mouth in a smooth waterfall, each word naturally clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle.
For you, though, it's like looking at the completed picture upside down. It just doesn't make sense, and you can't tell what's he's asking by his tone like you have before.
"Chan?" You say, questioning. It was the only word you caught.
He nods once, then faster. "His makeup." He points to his leader, a distance away, who is redoing his belt and pulling on his coarse jacket for the next scene.
Jisung points to Chan again, then to his own face. He points to the crossbody bag across your waist, full of your stylist tools, and mimes swiping a brush across his cheeks.
"Oh," you say. "His makeup?"
Jisung nods frantically. You fight a smile; makeup and snacks are the only English words he seems to understand at the moment. Couldn't say you wouldn't have been the same way.
You nod once to him and awkwardly brush past him to go to Chan.
Jisung watches you go.
Chan turns round as you approach, bowing sheepishly as you pull several brushes and a chrome palette from your bag.
"Sorry for ruining it," he says as he closes his eyes. You chuckle and redo the look with a few simple strokes, and step back to make sure it's neat. You swipe a pinky across his cheekbone to remove any excess. "I saw you and Jisung talking."
You sigh. "Wasn't really talking. More..."
"Confusion?" Chan offers with a smile.
You poke him in the side and he shies away, grinning. "How long were you watching us?"
He shrugs casually, looking away. "The whole time."
You groan, cheeks flushing as he laughs. "I wish I could speak Korean fluently... Learning it takes so long, and there aren't any translating apps I can use on a day-to-day basis."
Chan does look at you then, expression empathetic. "I know it's inconvenient, Y/n, but you're making progress. Just keep at it, and while you and Jisung are both learning each other's languages, it'll become easier to communicate over time."
You look towards Jisung, who's currently reenacting the wrestling scene with Seungmin. Rapid, unfamiliar words tumble from the members' mouths at the speed of light as they laugh and clap, and you smile as Jisung emerges from underneath Seungmin with his dark hair covered in feathers.
You sigh. "I hope so."
Chan sighs, touching your shoulder in reassurance. Looking past you, he gazes fondly over the seven members, unaware of you both watching them, and chuckles. "I thought Hyunjin and I were gonna get this music video filming done fast, but... apparently not."
You smile. "I don't think they were too fond of having to do extra practice while you were away."
Chan rolls his eyes and you laugh as he runs a hand through his hair, mussing it further. There's a yelp from behind you, and Chan whips around, faster than lightning. The members have gone silent.
You're both just in time to see Jisung fall off the mattress. His hand scrapes awkwardly along the floor, where tiny fragments of glass from the stunt filming earlier scatter throughout the dust. A deep red line opens up along his forearm, and Chan swears before dashing to his side.
You come up behind Felix, calling to one of the crew members to find a tissue and water as Chan sits Jisung down properly on the mattress, brushing aside feathers.
"Are you okay?" Chan asks in worry, cradling his member's hand.
Jisung winces as a wet rivulet of blood drops onto the floor. The rest of the boys burst into concerned murmurs, jostling to see. You push past Minho with a pack of tissues, handing them to Chan. Cracking open the top of a water bottle, you dampen the centre of a folded piece of tissue and dab it gently along Jisung's forearm. He groans and attempts to pull away, but his leader holds his arm firmly, murmuring reassurance.
"There's a spare room down one of the warehouse corridors," you say to Chan. "I went there earlier to set my things up. There's a first aid kit in there."
"Is there no one on set with one already?" He says, strained. You bite your lip and look to the crew, who all look away, seemingly distracted.
Chan actually growls then, making you recoil, and mutters something that might have either been a string of expletives or a complaint about crew disorganisation.
You suppose his reaction is justified either way.
Folding the water-damp, bloodied tissue, you tuck it into your pocket and stand up. "I can take him to the room there and clean the cut," you offer. "Might be easier without all the glass around."
Chan nods, holding a hand to Jisung to stand up. "I can come with both of you-"
"No," you say firmly. "Focus on filming with Hyunjin. It's getting late and I know both of you want to be done with it. I'll take care of him."
Chan bites his lip in anxiety, clearly struggling to make the decision between staying on set and going with Jisung, but Hyunjin puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Let's get the rest of the shots done, Chan-hyung," he says. "Y/n is more than capable of taking care of the injury."
You blink, not understanding, but it seems to be enough to reassure Chan, who nods and turns away. Hyunjin follows him, and the rest of the members meekly disperse behind the cameras, far quieter than before.
You wind between crew members and filming equipment before heading down the main back corridor of the warehouse, where a spare room splits off into four smaller rooms down the way. Heading into the second door on the right, you hold the door open for Jisung before pulling out the first aid kit from a duffel bag.
You point to a chair as he closes the door. The metal of the knob is scarlet as he lets go. "Sit."
He sits and you place the kit on the cabinet, unzipping a pouch and pulling out a bandage, an antiseptic wipe, and another pack of tissues. Trying to ignore your hands shaking as you do so, you feel your cheeks warm as Jisung shuffles on the chair, a muffled disturbance in the sudden stillness of the room.
You're alone with him.
Biting your lip in an all-too-aware consciousness of the situation, you pull a chair to sit next to him, setting down the items on the plastic table. He rests his arm on the surface as you rip open the antiseptic packet, and then pause.
Gingerly, you place a light hand on his wrist and pull his forearm closer to you, beginning to gently swipe the wet wipe across the cut. A faint smell of chemical rises in the air, and Jisung discreetly exhales, making you crack a tiny smile.
His forearm is tense; you can see the stress of the situation, visible in his body language. The wipe clearly stings him, becoming redder by the minute. He lets out a tiny start, obviously fighting to keep quiet.
You can see him beginning to squirm, his bottom lip caught flush between his teeth as he chews on it in distress.
"Jisung," you say softly, pausing the cleaning to give him a break. "It's okay. You're doing well."
He doesn't respond, focused on the wound. Then, taking a deep breath, his wide eyes meet yours and he gives a tiny nod, signalling for you to continue.
You've cleaned about half of the injury's surrounding area; feeling unbelievably bold, you stroke a gentle thumb across the inside of his wrist as you swipe scarlet off his bare skin, attempting to calm him. He relaxes suddenly, and the exhale of a deeply-held breath fans lightly across your face, stirring your hair. It does nothing to cool the tension building between the both of you.
You fumble to stuff the used, damp wipe back into the packet. Jisung's eyes follow you intently; he seems to have recovered from the initial shock of injury.
He watches curiously as you tilt your head to the side, inspecting the cut, before unravelling a length of a clean rolled bandage. You lay it flat on the clean table before unwrapping four sheets of fluffy gauze, laying it on top. You undo the top off of a small tube of ointment.
"What's that?" He says.
There's a clear question in his tone; taking a wild guess, you hold up the tube. He nods.
"This? Ointment. It's to keep the wound moist," you reply. You're not sure why you bothered; he doesn't understand it anyway, and he just nods politely before continuing to gaze at the tube, most likely attempting to piece its use together in his head.
You let out a tiny sigh, almost fuming at the inconvenience of it all. You want to talk to him, understand him. But you keep quiet, clamp it down, and continue to smear the cream gently across the wound edges with a finger.
He's no longer watching the application of the cream, though; his gaze is fixed intently on your face, as if he's trying to see through you to the other side of the room. You know he's watching; you can feel his eyes burning into you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, attempting to keep composure.
"Y/n," he says softly.
You gulp and look up, pausing your ministrations. He tilts his head to the side, a strange look taking over his features. It's no secret to either of you that you can't understand the other; it seemed to you that Jisung was just never as bothered by the language barrier as you were.
Apparently not.
"Thank you for taking care of me," he says simply. Taking a deep breath, he hopes inwardly that you haven't learnt too much Korean yet, and continues to talk. "I wish I could speak more English, enough for us to communicate. I'm sorry I never told you that before. I know it makes you sad."
Silence.
"I don't know what you're saying," you murmur softly, a look of longing and resignation taking over your expression.
"I don't understand you."
You lean one hand under your head. "I wish we could communicate."
"I wish we could talk properly... This is so frustrating."
Sighing and giving up completely, you tap his wrist, and he brings it closer to you so you can wrap the injury. Delicately placing the gauze sheets along the cut, you begin to firmly wrap the bandage around his forearm, taking care not to cut off his circulation in the process. Securing the bandage with a clip, you stand and begin to dispose of the packets and tissues.
Jisung stands too, unsure, like he's waiting for direction. He opens his mouth to say something, but your thoughts are beginning to run away with you, and you speak them aloud before he has a chance to say anything.
"I wonder what things would have been like if we both spoke the same language." You throw the packets in the bin.
Jisung seems to be lost in his own thoughts too. "Maybe I could ask one of my hyungs to teach me English... or Hyunjin! He knows English too! He might be able to help..."
Yet again, the names of one of his members is the only word you can recognise amongst his rapid-fire speech.
"Hyunjin?" You say. "What about him? Did- should I go get him?" You groan in exasperation and throw your hands out, knocking the ointment off the cabinet from where you've just set it down. "What are you asking for?"
"Sorry, I don't know what you're upset about, but maybe I can ask Chan-hyung and Hyunjin for advice on what to do... Unless you've already talked to them..."
"I bet you'd sound so different talking in English," you're beginning to fume, and you feel bad, because none of this is Jisung's fault. He's Korean, he speaks it, so why are you getting so upset about not being able to communicate through the same language?
Both of you are practically talking to yourselves now; Jisung is clearly lost on another planet, seemingly recovered from the injury. You're beginning to feel yourself sink, no longer nervous around him. Now, you just feel a desperate longing.
To talk. Actually talk.
"Changbin-hyung told me that you don't speak much Korean, but maybe I could teach you? Ah, that wouldn't work, because I'd have to teach you in English first..."
You bite your lip. A dangerous thought crosses your conscience; you could just tell him. About how you feel. He might not even know what you're talking about. He probably won't.
Hopefully.
You decide to risk it. Even if he does understand, you can easily play it off as a translating mistake on his part. No worries.
"Jisung," you say cautiously.
He snaps out of his endless train of thought, and locks his gaze with yours. Like a soldier called to attention.
"Y/n," he says cheekily, though you can see his confident demeanour faltering.
"I really want to be able to talk with you," you continue. "Properly. But maybe it's a good thing we can't understand each other. I can say I love you without you understanding... Gosh, Hyunjin would have a field day making fun of us idiots. Not being able to communicate..."
Jisung blinks. Once. Twice. You see the flutter of his lashes, the cogs turning in his head, and then, very hesitantly, he steps closer. Like you're a wild animal he's trying not to spook.
You take a step back. He takes another forward.
So you step back again. Your back hits the cabinet.
Shit.
Jisung cocks his head; he looks exactly like his quokka counterpart. You blink as he frowns suddenly, then presses his hands together, slipping his fingers in a pattern over the newly wrapped bandage on his forearm.
Around and around and around. And then-
"You love Hyunjin?" Even without understanding, his tone is incredulous. Disbelieving.
"What about Hyunjin?" You say in confusion. "Clearly I've done something wrong, as your tone is telling me, but what does he have to do with it?"
Jisung groans, frustrated. "All this time. I was so happy you came to help me... I thought there might have been something between you and me, but you were just being helpful. Hyunjin, of all people."
You huff. "You keep saying 'Hyunjin' and yet, I still have no idea what you're saying."
Jisung scoffs. "Okay, relax! You don't need to keep talking about how much you love him! I get it... Damn, I'm stupid."
"...Well, you stopped saying his name, but I still don't know what you're talking about, Jisung."
"I wish I could understand you, Y/n."
"I wish you loved me."
"I want to know you. I would never let anyone hurt you, ever... But clearly, I'm not fit for it... I can't even put together a sentence in your language. How am I supposed to love you when I can't even do that?"
Your voices are rising at this point, swelling to fit the room. They mix in the air and rain down in shards, sparkling shards of glass that seem to hurt more than Jisung's forearm injury did.
Every glittering remnant makes your eyes sting until you feel a salty wetness coating your cheeks. The frustration is spilling out of you, the unfairness and utter inconvenience of it all drowning you in tumultuous, crashing waves until you are swept under the dark, powerful current, falling and falling and clawing upwards to air, to breathe, to him, but it doesn't work.
"Why can't things just be easy for once?" You cry out at him. He jolts, taken aback. "I just want to love someone, and here you are, yet I can't even tell you that I love you. I love you, Jisung, and you'll never, ever understand, and it's all my fault because I don't know any Korean enough to talk to you."
He's frozen. Pale as a ghost. And then the colour rises so fast to his face that you step forward, afraid that he might collapse or pass out or experience some other type of wildly unexpected medical occurrence that would probably make your current situation even more upsetting than it already is. If that's even possible.
"Me?" He says. His voice is shaky, strained. "You love me? Not Hyunjin?"
"Fuck, Jisung, this has nothing to do with Hyunjin. Forget about him, I'm talking about you. You might as well know since we can't fucking communicate. Do you even know what I just said, or do I just sound like an angry chicken?"
A look of understanding begins to dawn incredibly slowly on his face. He points to himself, in disbelief but still rather unsure about what you're saying. "Me?"
"Yes, you, you absolute idiot. Shit."
Jisung looks at his hands, then points to himself. He cups his hands and shakily rearranges his fingers, making a comical depiction of a heart. "You?"
"That is the most shit heart I've ever seen you make," you huff. You point to yourself, dramatically enunciating as if he was a child unable to understand anything more than the colour of the sky.
"I." You jab a finger repetitively into your chest.
"Love.." You make a heart, bending your index fingers and pushing your hands towards him. Like he could just take your love the way something might take a glass of water offered to them.
"You," you stab a finger in the air again and again, pointing to him. There's no way he's confused now.
He's still standing there, eyebrows raised, confused and in disbelief. Your mind whirrs.
How can I possibly make this any clearer? I don't know what else I'm supposed to do now... Maybe I should just brush it off and give up. The others must be wondering where we are. Hey, I bet Chan and Hyunjin are finally done filming-
Jisung's mouth crashes desperately onto yours.
Your back throbs as it's pressed against the cabinet; his chest bumps yours and your hands fly to his shoulders, clutching him as if you're drowning. A gasp slips out of your mouth before it's swallowed up; Jisung tilts his head and it's all you can do not to let your knees buckle under him.
You can feel his hair tickling your forehead as he gulps in half a breath of air, so soft, so impossibly soft, like pinfeathers under your fingers just as you'd imagined it to be. You tug him back in, gripping the neckline of his hoodie, trying to make him realise, trying to communicate everything you've been saying without saying anything at all.
He doesn't seem to care about the injury on his arm anymore, and one hand moves to cradle the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer. He's not just kissing you, he's pouring thousands upon thousands of words into you, words he can't ever hope to tell you and words you won't ever understand.
But you do understand.
He pulls back, gasping. Your foreheads bump clumsily against each other's and he holds you fast, panting.
"Jisung," you gasp.
"Y/n," he replies breathlessly. "I love you. I love you."
You finally have some clue as to what he's saying. "I love you too."
He nods frantically, his nose brushing your cheek as he nuzzles into your neck, so hard it almost hurts. But you can't find it in yourself to care, returning the crushing affection with as much strength as you can muster, fuelled by relief and love and irrevocable joy and Jisung.
The hasty explanation of your feelings all this time evaporates off your tongue, burning into ash. You sweep it into a corner of your mind and dust the rest off Jisung's shoulders.
Chan clears his throat.
Both you and Jisung spring apart as if burned. Chan stands in the doorway, arms crossed as he leans against the frame. There's a delighted smirk painted across his face, the remainder of his dark, raw makeup smudged and faded. There's a feather in his hair, and he regards the two of you with a cool stare.
"So," he says slowly, clearly fighting the urge to tease. He speaks in English and Korean, so that both of you can understand.
Chan adjusts his coarse jacket. "Did you two finally manage to communicate? Did you finally manage to talk properly?"
Jisung grins.
a/n: div by @aquazero
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pairing: college roommate!han jisung x reader
summary: jisung realises that he feels something more for his roommate who loves to bake.
genre: college!au, mentions of eating and drinking, slightly suggestive ? kissing, jisung being a whole simp for reader, one sus joke, making cookies (bc i'm craving them so bad rn)
a/n: hihi~ inspired by this post, so i'm tagging @butteredsushi and @jisunggy thanks for the fic inspo guys <3 div by @kodaswrld
skz masterlist
"Whatcha doing?"
You look up just as Jisung, your roommate, enters the kitchen, no doubt drawn by the clattering noises that you've filled the flat with. He hops up on the counter, peeking behind you in interest, where you've set a heap of bowls and pans onto the countertop.
"Just wanted to make something," you exhale, poking his cheek before moving to find the bowl you're looking for. Jisung hums and sits back on the counter, leaning on his hands as he watches you clumsily sift through the pile, muttering to yourself.
"Do I get to eat whatever it is that you're making?" He asks carefully, secretly crossing his fingers in a hope you'll say yes.
You huff and stand up from where you've been bending and peering into the cabinets. "Ji, we literally live together."
"Yeah, but like, were you planning to eat it all by yourself?"
You laugh, gesturing for him to open the cupboard directly below his feet, which he does. "Maybe, but we both know you would have eaten most of it. Do you want to eat something specific?"
"Cookies," he says instantly, not hesitating. His cheeks flush pink.
You roll your eyes, taking out a spoon. "Should've known."
Jisung throws his hands up defensively. "What? They're good for days like this, with the weather how it is right now. Be for real."
He has a point, you think as you look out the window.
It's drizzling in a fine swell over what you can see of the city, a heavy, almost blue fog casting itself like a blanket over the buildings. Classes ended early today, and you'd wanted nothing more to rush back to your dorm and rid yourself of the soaked, cold clothes you'd had to be in all morning.
To say the least, it had been extremely unpleasant weather, and it had taken at least an hour standing under the steaming water of the shower to try and bring your body's temperature up again.
You shiver as your eyes flicker over to the door, your still-wet shoes leaking droplets of storm water onto the plastic bag you'd set them upon in an attempt to keep the floor dry. Jisung was already back from his lecture by the time you got in, and he hadn't even looked up as you'd rushed into your room and slammed the door, soaking wet and chattering as you turned the water on.
At least, you think he hadn't looked up at you. In reality, he'd been waiting for the moment the door would open and you would come in.
But you didn't notice. You never do.
You set two more bowls onto the counter, missing the way Jisung's eyes follow yours as you move across the floor, gaze fixed on the way your hair is still drying, hanging in little damp clusters over your ears and nape. Your cheeks are flushed, most likely from the boiling water you shower in, and your figure is swamped in an oversized hoodie and a pair of grey sweats. His heart jolts as he looks you up and down, trying to fight that warm feeling that seems to rise in his chest every time he meets your gaze.
I have a hoodie that looks almost the same... it looks like you're wearing my clothes. That'd be so hot...
"...and then I had to rush all the way back here because it was so cold and rainy outside. You have a point, to be honest; I was thinking about eating something warm and delicious when I got back, but I wanted something a little bit sweeter- Ji. Ji, are you listening?"
"H-huh?" He shakes his head, thoughts of you in his clothes hastily evaporating. "Uh, yeah."
You point a measuring cup at him cheekily. "Liar. What's wrong? Are you too hot? I can turn the thermostat down if you want... I turned it up super high when I got back because it was so cold-"
"N-no, it's okay," he interrupts. "Sorry. Just a long morning. Classes and all that."
You shoot him a sympathetic look, opening a packet of self-raising flour. "Yeah, I get that. Poor you... And all this rain, too... not really ideal for all the walking we have to do nowadays."
Jisung can't help but smile softly at your rambling, holding the edge of the bowl as you almost knock it off the countertop. Your measuring spoon gets bumped in the process and a small puff of flour spills onto Jisung's knee, dusting the loose, black denim.
"Oops," you say sheepishly, setting the cup down. "Sorry."
He's about to reply and tell you it's okay before his gaze flits down to your hand, which is gently brushing off his knee. And suddenly, he can't seem to focus on anything but your touch. It's warm, even through the thick fabric, and he finds himself wishing you'd bumped the measuring cup a little harder so you could be brushing off all the flour for longer, your fingers gentle against his leg.
He doesn't even mind that there's a subtle white patch on the denim where it spilt.
You scratch the back of your head. "Hang on, let me get a paper towel-"
"No, don't worry," he blurts out. "I-it's fine."
You look up in surprise, tapping another cupful of flour into the bowl before adding a haphazard mix of baking soda, salt, and cornstarch over it. "Are you sure? I'm gonna make a mess in this place. I don't want your clothes to get dirty..."
"It's fine," he says again, a little more confidently. "I can just take them off."
You splutter, sending a puff of flour into the air, making both of you cough as Jisung waves his hands frantically, cheeks scarlet.
"I-i didn't mean it like that," he coughs, flustered. "I meant-"
"I know what you meant," you say, fighting a grin as you turn away to open the fridge. "Honestly, Ji."
He drops his face into his hands just as you crack two eggs into another bowl, heading back to the fridge for the stick of half-finished butter on the top shelf. You've learnt to buy more butter than you think you need; your roommate has a habit of using far too much butter than necessary on his toast. Not that your topping habits are much better; the Nutella jar is usually empty after a day.
Anyways.
Placing the rest of the butter in a small glass bowl, you set the microwave timer for 30 seconds before closing the door. Jisung's eyes follow the bowl spinning round and round inside, the butter seeping and melting into an oily mess against the glass edges.
His fingers tap against the countertop as you move your bowls over to where he's sitting, your shoulder brushing his arm as you busy yourself with tipping brown and granulated sugar into yet another bowl. Jisung cheekily dips his finger into the mixture and brings it to his mouth as you smack his hand away, relishing the raw, saccharine taste of the grains.
"You have to stop doing that.. Ew, Ji!"
He wipes his finger nonchalantly on your arm, much to your disgust. Ignoring your groans, he hums to himself as you take the melted butter from the microwave, slamming the door shut again.
"Stop doing what?" He says innocently.
"Dipping your little thieving paws into the bowls... you'll contaminate it. And wiping said paws on my arm..."
"So?" He says, grinning, ears still red from his earlier comment. "It's not like anyone else but you and me are eating the stuff you make."
You huff and tip the butter into the bowl, spilling half of it in the process. "I'm gonna put raisins in these if you keep provoking me."
"No!"
"Shut up and stop bothering me then," you huff, one hand coming up to matter-of-factly wipe a tiny speckle of sugar from the corner of his lip.
He's about to make a comment, but he goes silent; his face turns the colour of the cherry tomatoes in the fridge crisper as you whisk the butter into the sugar mixture. You don't even notice how quiet he's gone, and as a habit, begin to ramble.
"I can't believe the mixer broke," you say absentmindedly. "I had to search for ages and ages for a recipe that didn't need a mixer for the process. It's actually so much easier to melt the butter too... last time I did this, I didn't mix it all in properly so the cookies tasted horrible after- not that you cared, of course, because I came back to the glass dish where I put them in a day before and they were all gone- Ji, you're not listening again."
"Yes I am," he says, strained. His face is red.
"No you're not. Anyways, I had to find substitutes for most of the ingredients until I could get to the store last week.."
You run off on yet another tangent about the recipe and different methods of baking and flavours, but all Jisung can focus on is the fact that you just touched his lip, wiped away whatever it was that what on his mouth, without so much as blinking. Like it was nothing... He finds himself beginning to panic a little; his face still feels all hot and tingly.
They just wiped my mouth for me... Wait, isn't that what couples do in the movies?? Does that mean.. no, it doesn't, because they didn't even blink when they did it. There's no way they feel the way I do right now, like this- is it hot in here? My face feels so warm...
He's about to lift the neckline of his hoodie to try and fan some air into his body, but not before something sweet-smelling and textured lands on the apple of his cheekbone.
He freezes, watching as you dip a finger into a bowl full of white paste. Frosting.
You know Jisung likes frosting on his cookies; it's a fact he hasn't even told you, but you know from the way he always secretly opens the tub of ready-made icing in the fridge that he likes them to be eaten that way. You always make a bowl of it whenever you bake now, just for him. Currently, you can't get over the look on his face; shocked, and almost distant, like he was distracted by something.
You managed to crack the eggs, mix all the ingredients together, add chocolate chips to the mixture, form the dough into balls, and put it all into the oven without him making so much as a comment. And then slightly warm up the icing too. He's never been this quiet.
Like, ever.
"Are you okay?" You smile. "You look a million miles away."
He gulps and watches as you dip a different finger into the icing, some of it remaining on your lip as you lick your fingertip clean. He can feel the tiny dollop of frosting you've dotted on his cheek. It's probably melting with how hot his face feels.
His gaze never leaves your mouth, and his eyes flit to the mess you've made of the counter; there's not a single ingredient you haven't managed to spill a quantity of. Most of it is staining your clothes too, not that you seem to care.
Y/n...
"Ji?" You wave a hand in front of his face, trying to rid him of the glazed look in his eyes. "What's wrong?"
Silence. Then-
"You look so beautiful," he murmurs.
It slips out so unexpectedly that he can't even bring himself to be surprised or regretful about it; if he never tells you, you'll never know how stunning you look in the moment, all damp hair and flour-smeared cheeks.
And maybe you don't look lovely to anyone else, but to Jisung, he's never seen anything more beautiful. And in a moment of instant clarity, he knows he's regret it forever if he doesn't tell you how he's felt for so long. Or worse, if someone else decides to tell you the same thing, and he never gets his chance...
You blink at the unexpected sentiment, not thinking much of it. "Thanks."
Turning away, you pick up a bowl and deposit it in the sink before Jisung pulls you back by the shoulder, you tumbling between his legs from where he's still sitting on the counter.
You don't even get a moment to process what's happening before his mouth is pressed gently against yours, tasting of sweet icing and brown sugar.
You mold yourself immediately into his embrace as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you a little closer as his head tilts to the left. You're pretty sure he's almost breaking his neck, kissing you like this, but you couldn't care less, and it seems, neither can he.
"Jisung," you exhale against his lips, almost gasping.
"Sorry," he whispers, though there's a hint of cheekiness behind it that he can't quite disguise. "Should've asked to kiss you..."
You giggle and pull him in again, your hands finding their way to his nape, playing with the tiny, soft hairs there before he pulls back to gaze at you. "It's okay."
He looks too far gone now; his hair is deliciously rumpled from you running your fingers every which way through it, his cheeks still stained pink. The frosting on his cheek is smeared, a long, pale streak against the perfect planes of his skin.
You're about to pull him in again, and his mouth eagerly moves towards yours, but he only gets a light brush against your lips before the oven timer rudely interrupts, beeping and echoing in the silence of the flat. He groans as you turn away and reach across to switch it off.
You hear Jisung laugh breathlessly behind you as you peer through the oven glass; the cookies, once round and perfect, have now spread into a chocolatey mess across the baking tray, and you can see several small bits of dough beginning to burn dark against the hot surface of the oven grilles.
"Shit," you mumble as Jisung pulls you back into him, peppering kisses over your face. "I forgot to chill the dough before I put them in..."
"Screw that," he sighs against you. "We should chill instead. Just us, hmm? Cancel whatever plans you had..."
"Done," you whisper. "But what about the cookies-"
Jisung pulls you impossibly closer, his breath a warm fan across your cheeks and neck.
"Forget that," he murmurs. "I have something sweeter."
a/n: i forgot how fun writing jisung is >< asks open !
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps
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hihi can i request 66 w/ Jisung? Kind like crack were you are both dead sick or smth? anyway have a great day/sleep (๑>◡<๑) ur write is to die for btw
— anon 🐣📎
hihi yes you can~ sorry this took a while to post lol, lots of wips. aww thank you, giggling n kicking my feet rn <3 here you gooooo my little chick paperclip anon lol
pairing: sick bf!han jisung x sick!reader
summary: you're suffering with jisung through a cold (that he gave to you)
genre: fluffy to the max, idol! au, this is honestly just crack, sick lil jisungie and reader
a/n: han would be the type of make funny noises when his nose is bunged up don't even try to change my mind
"You do it."
"No, you."
"I did it last time."
Jisung groans and heaves himself upright, tissues falling off the sofa like a mini avalanche. He sluggishly gets up and drags himself to the coffee table for the remote control, pressing the select button to play the next episode of the kdrama you're both watching.
He sniffs and flops back down on the couch next to you, groaning as the intro begins to play for the umpteenth time. "Y/n?"
His nose is bunged up so it sounds funny when he talks, and your voice is no better as you respond. "Mmm.."
"I'm hungry."
You whine and roll over, burying your face in the blanket. Jisung adjusts himself so you're lying on his chest, cuddled in each others' arms. Blankets swamp both of your bodies, so that if anyone were to look at both of you, they would see just a large lump of fabric. A very sniffly, sick, snotty lump of fabric at that.
You groan and let out an ungraceful sneeze, almost projecting yourself off the sofa. Jisung closes his eyes, mildly put out.
"I don't wanna get up," you sigh, burying your face back in his chest. He smells warm, the skin radiating feverish heat through the material of his hoodie, and the faint, spiced smell of vapour rub hangs distinctly in the air. Not that it seems to be helping. "But I'm hungry as well. What should we make?"
Jisung doesn't even have to open his mouth before you both agree on soup. There's a large pot in the fridge, courtesy of a disgusted Minho, who packed a bag and refused to return to the dorm until both of you were better.
The pot is about half full- you lift it with almost shaky arms and place it on the stove, switching on the heat. Jisung stands beside you as you begin to stir, watching how the chicken shreds and green onions spin in a mesmerising circle. Little oil bubbles rest on the top of the liquid, simmering deliciously as the soup heats up, and by the time it's ready, both of you are salivating.
You ladle half of the pot into each bowl and hand one to Jisung, who reaches into a drawer for a pair of chopsticks. You pause and watch as he sleepily dips them into the soup, clearly too dazed and ill-ridden to understand his amusing actions.
"Sungie," you croak, trying not to laugh. "It's soup."
"Mhm.."
"No," you correct him, "You can't eat soup with chopsticks..."
He blinks, once. Then twice. And then, very slowly, he adjusts his grip on the chopsticks and continue dipping them into the soup, bringing them to his mouth to lick off what little broth remains on the utensils.
You sigh and bring a spoonful of the hot, nourishing liquid to your mouth and groan as its warmth saturates the inside of your mouth, instantly comforting. You'll have to remember to thank Minho later, and maybe ask for the soup recipe too, so you can make it when you're not feeling so sick in the future.
You climb with some difficulty onto the counter and continue ladling the soup into your mouth while Jisung stands, sock-footed on the tiles, sluggishly licking broth off his chopsticks. You tilt your head at him.
"I still don't understand why you're doing that," you say quietly, letting the steam from your bowl soothe the congestion in your sinuses.
"Because," Jisung croaks. "My throat hurts and swallowing feels icky to me."
"That soup will be ice cold by the time you finally get to the bottom of it. That is, if you even make it that far. Go to sleep."
He whines and sets the bowl down, taking a plate from the dishrack to cover it. "You're telling me to sleep as if you don't look like a walking zombie yourself..."
You huff and kick him lightly in the stomach, swinging your legs off the counter. "I wouldn't be a walking zombie if you didn't get me sick in the first place, Sung."
"It wasn't my fault-"
"Yes it was," you croak, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You kept me here all night cuddling without telling me you were sick."
He pouts. "But I wanted to be with you."
"So you purposely got me sick, is what you're saying."
Jisung looks away, a tired smirk making its way onto his features. "I just wanted to spend some time with my beautiful walking zombie baby. Can you blame me?"
You throw your spoon at him. "Han Jisung."
He ducks just in time, the spoon clattering to the floor. "Okay, okay, relax. I didn't know apocalyptic monsters were so temperamental..."
"Shut up and finish your soup."
"Okay, sorry."
a/n: i want soup so bad rn
pairing: han jisung x female reader
summary: when everything bursts into flames, there will always be someone to put it out.
genre: fluff, idol! au, heavy on the angst, panic attack, sensory overload, anger outburst out of frustration, negative thoughts, inferiority complex, feeling left behind. this one is a little sadder, not my usual writing, so read ahead at your own risk.
a/n: kinda having a bad time rn so i wrote this. also my masterlist just deadass stopped working so i have to remake it TT new masterlist will be up soon don't panic guys
You're laying on the floor face-down when Jisung comes home from the company.
He enters your shared bedroom, humming a new unreleased track, and finds you near to the floor-to-ceiling window, curled up in a ball. Your jacket is tossed somewhere behind you and you're not even aware that Jisung is home until he bends down and taps your shoulder.
"Jagi," he says, smiling in greeting.
You don't turn. Your head feels like it's made of lead and you can't seem to find the energy to even twitch a finger. And you feel bad because you know Jisung is tired too, and here you are, ignoring him because you're selfish and lazy and not good enough for anything-
"Y/n," Jisung says again, a little softer.
You do turn your head then. It's not much of a turn, to be honest; more like a slow, sluggish effort to move your head to the right. Your look over your shoulder and he's sitting there, knees to his chest, smiling down at you.
His headphones are slung around his neck as per usual, the headphone cord wrapped loosely around his wrist. His blue hair is flopping attractively into his eyes and the neckline of his band shirt slips a little to the left, revealing a sliver of collarbone.
Some of the skin there is slightly red, and you know it's because he probably worked out his shoulders and torso before coming back home.
You feel even worse at the thought of him working out; why can't you be the same? Why can't you just get up and be productive and multitask and live a good life and be happy like everyone else? Like him? Was that sort of thing not meant for you? Success and friendships and contentment and normalcy?
Because here is Jisung, so many achievements under his belt, so many talents and aspirations and thoughts and dreams, and there you are behind him, struggling to keep up with even the simplest of tasks in your own life.
And it's not just him; lately it feels like everyone else is sprinting ahead, while you're lagging behind, confused. Winded. Out of breath.
Losing energy.
It feels the same even now. Usually making eye contact and being close to Jisung fills you with strength, but today it seems even he can't wash away your thoughts. You wonder how bad it can be if even Jisung, your number one supporter, can't seem to even slightly unclasp the boulder shackles from around your ankles.
And the yet-again nagging thought of always being left behind culminates the peak of your bottled desperation.
And everything is Wrong.
The floor feels rough and uncomfortable all of a sudden, grating against your skin, scratching at the pores, and your clothes are too tight and restricting, digging into the soft curves and peaks of your figure, tightening around you like a python winds about its prey.
Jisung is still sitting there next to you; he must have realised you didn't feel like talking. He's staring out the window, still singing softly to the track, gaze unfocused but content. He understands; he has days like yours too. But right now it feels different, and suddenly you want nothing more than for him to just leave. To just go.
And that thought makes you feel awful.
You feel all hot and irritated like you've been put into an oven on high heat, and you rake a hand through the limp strands of your hair, the tickling flyaways suddenly causing a sudden surge of boiling hot frustration to pour through your veins.
Everything goes up in flames and before you know it, you're shoving Jisung's hand away and storming into the living room, throwing yourself down on the couch and then violently tossing yourself about because even touching the couch feels Wrong too. The leather sticks to your skin and the shuffling sounds are too noisy and sound more like nails being dragged down a chalkboard.
You let out a half-hearted scream and even that feels pathetic. Like you've tried to blow a whistle and all that came out was a sad little wheeze. The noise floats into the air and absorbs into the stillness. You want to scream again but it won't help; no matter how much noise you make, it will never be enough to quiet the wildfires searing across your nerves and seemingly into the core of your brain.
But the flames begin to sizzle, and like all fires do, it begins to die down.
You're left in the smoldering aftermath; the human form of it, anyway, which consists of sobbing like a child face-down in the couch, your body draped uncomfortably across the lounge.
It's almost an hour before Jisung tiptoes into the living room; he peeks over the back of the couch before cautiously moving to sit in front of you, about a metre away. And it's not that he's afraid of your sudden outburst, no, not at all. He knows not to touch you for now, to keep a distance, so as not to trigger you further.
He's silent for a moment; you miserably raise your head, a picture of defeat, eyes puffy and red with tears. You sniff and scrub at your face, wanting to get rid of the Feeling, the one that makes your jaw feel all sour and your head dizzy, the way it always feels after you cry.
Jisung chides you softly, gently reaching out to smooth a singular finger over the irritation you've caused across the delicate skin of your cheekbones. He's testing the water, so when nothing bursts out to bite his hand off, and the temperature seems reasonably cool, he moves just a little closer and gently pats your shoulder.
"What's wrong?" he says softly, almost inaudibly.
"Everything," you sob, the sound causing a terrible racking pain through Jisung's chest. It sounds so hollow, so lonely and desperate.
And yet so filled with hope, but hope that is slowly dying, losing its intensity, like you know in your heart that utilizing it won't really help anything. At least not anymore.
You don't expect Jisung to understand. How could he ever, when the terrible, tumultuous storm of horrible thoughts and feelings in your head is making it hard to understand yourself in the first place?
And you're right. Jisung doesn't understand. He looks bewildered but also empathetic. He looks the way people look when they sort of expect something to happen but it still shocks them when it does.
So he sits, not understanding but also knowing, and strokes your shoulder, keeping the rhythm of it, smooth and constant and flowing, dousing the flames, ever so slowly.
And you can't even try to explain how you feel, or what's wrong, and you can't even find it in yourself to apologise for so violently bursting out at him, but the look in Jisung's eyes tell you that no words are necessary. Not from you anyway.
"I love you," he says quietly after a while, still soft, still a little bit bewildered. But there is no doubt in his words.
And a weak, watery smile manages to tug at the corners of your mouth. At least you think it does; in reality, your face doesn't move an inch, still drawn tensely in rife and despair. But something in your eyes shifts slightly and Jisung knows you well enough to know what that shift means.
The searing flames die down completely, the ash rising and dissipating into a quiet, still, air, and when Jisung draws his hand back, his fingers are stained in still-warm charcoal.
You look at him, still heaving and exhausted; he smiles a tiny bit, like he's not sure whether it might set you off again or make you feel worse. But he does anyway, and the air begins to feel a lot cooler around you as he speaks.
"I brought you something from the company," he whispers, his fingers dancing along the thick seams of the leather couch.
You blink once, slowly, the movement taking a ridiculous amount of energy, which has dwindled to its last stores.
Jisung smiles, almost uncharacteristically shyly, and draws a little rectangular tin out of his dark, worn jeans. He lifts it to your eye level and holds it out on his palm.
On closer inspection, you see it's a little container, the plastic dyed a cool blue-green. There's a small flap on the top for flicking open and dispensing what looks like little sweets.
"Peppermints," Jisung says softly, a little shyly. "They help me when I feel all shaky and irritable. Chan-hyung keeps a pack in his bag for me too, just in case I start feeling anxious at events or concerts... maybe it'll help you too."
You sniff and let him put one of the mints on your palm. You lift it to your mouth and the sensation is immediately refreshing, a growing, almost cool-burn that seems to ease the aching tension that's set itself into your muscles.
It tastes slightly salty from the sweat on your palms, but it disappears as you roll it over your tongue. You exhale a tense breath you didn't know you'd been holding.
You blink again, even slower, hoping that Jisung knows it means thankyou. And he seems to understand, because he tips the container up a little, taking one of the mints himself with a grin.
a/n: hello yes i would like to order one jisung please
Hi hi! It's me again :) since you offered and I loved your last fic I read, I was wondering if I could request something? A hurt/comfort+ fluff with Jisung helping you feel better after you overworked yourself <33 cute 🥺 thank you!
hello >< thank you for requesting haha, i wasn't sure if you'd take me up on the offer ! this fic is a little bit self-indulgent and i got carried away, but i had fun writing this ask, so here it is <3
pairing: han jisung x reader
summary: jisung finds out you've been overworking yourself
genre: fluff, idol! au, lots of angst, fainting, mentions of not eating properly, sad reader, hurt to comfort, jisung ft. concerned leader bang chan
a/n: eat, eat, you EAT !!
The scratching of Jisung's pen and the occasional tune of a hum were the only sounds reverberating through the studio. He sighed, leaning back in his chair, pen at his lips, and thought hard, eyes tilting up to look at the paneled ceiling. Changbin was beside him, eyes laser-focused on his own monitor, and his foot tapping every now and then against the hardwood floor.
Struck with another idea, Jisung leaned forward again and scribbled it down so fast he knocked over the energy drink at the end of the desk. Changbin snickered in the background as Jisung scrambled to catch it.
Hurriedly repositioning the can, he turned his attention back to the digital program and added several new beats, creating an entirely new depth to the unfinished track. He scribbled a scheduled recording time on a sticky note and stuck it to the monitor, moving back to his lyric notebook.
He was in the zone.
Said zone was rudely interrupted by a soft yet persistent knocking on the frosted glass of the studio door. Jisung turned almost impatiently, his inspiration and focus fleeing almost instantly at the disturbance. He sighed.
"Hey, Chan-hyung."
The older boy's voice was quiet, apologetic, but his face was unusually calm. Almost too calm, like he was holding back.
"Can you come outside for a minute?"
Changbin glanced up from his monitor before Chan waved a dismissive hand. Jisung got up quietly and shut the frosted studio door behind him.
"Hyung, what's wrong?"
Chan's mouth pressed into a firm line, pulling Jisung's smartphone out of his pocket and handing it to the younger boy. "You left your phone in the dance studio, and it kept ringing, so I picked it up. Y/n's workplace left about seven calls."
A knot of sudden worry settled in the pit of Jisung's stomach. His eyebrows furrowed. "Is she okay?"
Chan's tone was soft, yet urgent.
"She fainted."
Jisung's knees buckled, and he fumbled for his phone. True to Chan's word, there were now about nine calls left unreceived.
"Fuck," he swore.
Chan pulled his car key out of his pocket. "She's at home. Come on, I'll drive you."
✧✧✧
Jisung fumbled with his house key, his hands clammy. He missed the lock about four times before managing to slip it in, and he tripped in his haste to get inside. Chan called a concerned warning from the driveway, locking his car.
Dashing to the living room, Jisung noticed a fluffy head of hair poking up from behind the couch. He climbed over the side and landed with an oof next to you, making you jolt. You were wrapped in a fluffy blanket, a glass of water and several snacks on the coffee table in front of you. You were still in your work clothes, though they were no longer orderly and free of rumples.
His hands cupped your pale face, eyes frantically searching over your body for any sort of injury.
"Jagiya, are you okay? I came here as soon as I could, I'm sorry I missed your calls, wait, why did you-"
"Sungie, I'm fine-"
"You fucking fainted, Y/n! Do you know how worried I was? Chan had to speed here because I was so worried. What happened? This is serious!"
You bit your lip, feeling guilty tears well up in your eyes. "I'm sorry, I just- I didn't mean for it to happen."
Jisung sighed, leaning into your side, his hand coming up to tenderly stroke your thigh. Chan waited by the doorway, eyebrows creased with worry and arms folded across his broad chest.
Jisung's voice was urgent, soft. "Jagi, what happened? Chan told me he saw so many calls from your workplace on my phone, because I forgot it in the studio. He said you fainted."
You nod, a hot tear spilling down your cheek.
Jisung sighed, biting his lip so hard he thought he might draw blood. "Did you eat today? Or drink water?"
Your silence was enough to tell him the answer. Jisung fretted, his hands coming up to gently tilt your face towards him. You hated seeing him so worried. All because of you, you think.
"Y/n, we talked about this, you need to eat, you need to drink water. No wonder you collapsed."
"I'm sorry," you cry out weakly. "It's so hard, Sung... I haven't had time to do anything, I just thought if I worked harder it would all fix itself," you sob softly into his shoulder, "But it didn't."
Jisung sighed, leaning his head on top of yours. "I'm sorry for getting all pissy at you. I didn't mean to snap, I just want you to be okay. Did you drive home?"
You sniff. "My coworker drove me."
Jisung nods, kissing your temple softly. "Have you had anything to eat, apart from these snacks?"
You shake your head.
Jisung lets out a soft noise of sympathy. "Let's get some proper food in you, and some water too. Did you drink any?"
You point to the half-finished glass of water on the coffee table.
"Good girl," he says softly, standing up. "Try and finish that, and I'll make you something to eat."
"Make me something too," Chan pipes up from the doorway, trying to lighten the mood a little, and cheer you up.
You shift a little on the couch so you can watch Jisung in the kitchen. He's busy rummaging through the fridge, pulling out several ingredients, then he disappears into the pantry. He emerges with three cups of instant ramen.
You and Chan watch inquisitively as he pulls the lid off one of the cups, turning around to switch the kettle on. He knocks the entire cup off the countertop, the dried ramen noodles scattering all over the floor. Chan winces just as a muffled curse comes from behind the kitchen island.
You take small, slow sips of the water, the glass cool against your skin as you watch Jisung clean up the mess. Chan carries two tablets to you and you swallow them before thanking him quietly, hoping the medicine will kick in soon. He leans against the back of the couch, watching Jisung clatter about in the kitchen. The kettle stopped boiling a while ago, but you appreciate Jisung's efforts nonetheless.
Chan leans down to you, an eyebrow quirked and his voice low. "He'll be a while," he says with a defeated chuckle, pulling out his phone and swiping up onto a takeout app. "Let's just order food."
You chuckle and nod in agreement.
a/n: i need new dividers
pairing: han jisung x reader
summary: you had a shit day and jisung helps out
genre: fluff, non-idol! au, heavy on the comfort, angsty, big softie jisung
a/n: if you're having a shit day, feel better <3
You sigh and throw an arm over your forehead, trying to erase the day's memories from mind. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong went wrong, and all you wanted to do the entire day was get out of your restricting day clothes and flop into bed.
Which is exactly what you did, but it didn't help.
Nothing felt right. The bed was too stiff, too soft, your clothes too loose or tight, and the music currently playing through your earbuds was doing nothing to help the situation. The night air filtering through the window was too cold and it wasn't enough to stop you feeling hot. It just wasn't making anything better, and your short temper was beginning to show through.
You had tried the whole day to keep your seething to a minimum, and now that it had been all bottled up for most of the day, you couldn't help but feel upset.
Rolling over, you poke Jisung in the back. He's asleep, his back facing you, and you can hear soft snores coming from him. He had come home and sensed immediately that you needed to be left alone. You hadn't talked to him for the whole evening, and now you were both lying in bed, one awake and the other fast asleep.
Finally managing to stir him, Jisung rolls over in bed, hair sticking up at random angles from the tossing and turning. His eyes were half-opened and he blinked at you, trying to see in the dark. The only light in the bedroom came from your phone, which was now abandoned on the bedside.
You felt bad for waking him up, but Jisung didn't seem to mind.
"What's wrong, jagiya?" he says blearily.
"Sorry, Sung," you whisper guiltily, eyes filling with stinging tears. "Just- I can't sleep."
"Hmm? Oh, why?"
You sigh softly, tossing your earphones onto the bedside and turning to face him, trying not to cry. "Nothing was going right and my temper kept flaring up."
Jisung nods, running a hand through his hair and mussing it up further. "I thought you were mad at me, but I just figured you needed space-"
"No, it wasn't you, it could never be you, I just didn't want to end up blowing up on you. I just needed to cool off but I still feel hot and bothered."
Jisung's already moved to turn up the fan and he lays back down on the bed with a "hmphff", wrapping an arm cozily around your waist.
"You know," he croaks thoughtfully, "When I get frustrated in the studio, Chan-hyung and Minho-hyung always make me go to the bathrooms and splash my face with cold water, and then drink something cold. I always pretend like it's cooling me down. You should try it."
Your voice is quiet. "But it's dark."
"I'll come with you."
You get up softly, moving to the bathroom. Jisung follows a lot less gracefully, and he flicks the light on, both of you immediately groaning at the glaring brightness. You run the tap til it turns cold, and splash your face with cold water. Jisung leans against the counter while you dry your face. He grins, eyes half-closed from the sleepiness.
"You feel better now, huh?"
And he's right. You do feel better.
He takes your hand and guides you to the kitchen, lifting you up onto the counter. You protest quietly but he ignores it, opening the freezer and depositing several ice cubes into a glass of water. He waits while you drink it, and hums softly when you poke his cheek, fingers cold from the condensation on the glass. You both steal a couple snacks and eat in the light of the refrigerator before Jisung lifts you from the counter and carries you back to bed.
Despite the cold face wash and the cold water, as well as the snacks, you can already feel your eyelids drooping. You feel yourself being placed back into bed, and you feel all warm and full and content. Or maybe the warm feeling is just from Jisung's arms, which are wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you close and keeping you in the warmth of his embrace.
You sleep.
a/n: i wish i had a jisung
pairing: han jisung x reader
summary: you join jisung for a producing session
genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort, crack, chill jisung
a/n: han would be so much fun to produce with and you can't change my mind
The producing studio was filled with the soft hum of equipment as you sat across from Jisung, both of you focused intensely on the computer screen. The blank canvas of the rather large music project felt daunting, but Jisung’s limitless energy was infectious, putting you at ease. He'd come into the studio with two iced Americanos, a million-watt smile, a pair of cute glasses, and a head full of amazing ideas.
Only the 4th gen ace, you had thought to yourself amusedly as he'd settled down.
“Okay, let’s try something new,” Jisung suggested, his eyes lighting up as he adjusted his headphones. He took a swig of his iced Americano before setting it down carefully on the side table. “I want to hear what you’ve got.”
You hesitated, unsure if your ideas were on par with his. But Jisung, ever the encourager, nudged you gently.
“There’s no right or wrong here, yeah? It’s about creating something that feels like us. Something that feels unique and special.”
You nodded, picking up your bass, hands a little clammy, and tentatively played a chord progression you had been working on. To your complete and utter surprise, Jisung’s face broke into a grin.
“That’s fire!” he exclaimed, fingers already moving over his keyboard to add a beat.
The time seemed to blur and fly by as the two of you worked together, layering melodies and harmonies, Jisung with practiced, flowing ease, and you with slight hesitance and intrigue. Jisung hummed softly for a few seconds, then suddenly broke into a rap, the flow raw and unpolished but electric, his hands waving energetically in what you could only assume was a flurry of rapper gestures. You couldn’t help but laugh at the unfamiliarity of his movements.
“Don’t laugh! I’m serious,” he teased, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. The atmosphere was light and collaborative, professional yet comfortable, filled with shared laughter, occasional banter, and back-and-forth teasing.
Hours passed without notice, but the track was taking shape. The sounds you created together were vibrant, a reflection of your combined, juxtaposing music styles and tastes. Jisung leaned back, so far incredibly satisfied with the progress.
“See?” he said softly, a satisfied smile on his lips. “We make a great team.”
You couldn’t help but agree as you looked at him, realizing that not only was he an incredible artist and producer, but someone who made the process feel like magic. He was so easy to work with and talk to, taking your ideas on board and adding his own flair to it while allowing your unique visions to shine throughout.
You made a mental note to gatecrash 3RACHA's producing sessions more often in the future.
a/n: yay new dividers ! thanks to @anitalenia