Lee Felix Fic! Recommendations
(pt 1) my blog tw! โ some chapters/oneshots may contain heavy smut,horror,angst read at your ownrisk. ๐ท๏ธ โ smut ๐โโฌ โ fluff ๐ฆโโฌโ angst
CHURCH โ Chase Atlantic
โถโข ||ฤฑฤฑ|||ฤฑฤฑ|||||ฤฑ|ฤฑฤฑ|ฤฑ. 0:30
! Miniseries + synopsis
TWIN FLAME by @/seospicybin
โข ๐ท๏ธ๐โโฌ๐ฆโโฌ
โ Back home for a summer holiday, you meet the new next-door boy, Felix, who will turn your summer into a burning bright one.
HAPPY PILLS by @/seospicybin
โข๐ท๏ธ๐โโฌ๐ฆโโฌ
โ For the most talented dancer slash the most popular boy in art school, Felix could date anyone at his choosing but he chooses you instead, even though the whole school knows youโre a ticking bomb that could go off any time.
ON TOUR by @/seospicybin
โข๐ท๏ธ๐โโฌ๐ฆโโฌ
โ Your best friend, Felix, is in a rock band and he takes you to join him on tour as the band's photographer. On the road, you learn how to deal with his bandmate, Hyunjin, who's not very welcoming of you .
Weathering your shades of blue by @/blossomwritesthings
โข ๐ท๏ธ๐โโฌ๐ฆโโฌ
โ ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.
! Oneshots/Drabbles
SUNSHINE by @/j-One25
โข ๐ท๏ธ๐โโฌ๐ฆโโฌ
โ You officially hit rock bottom. Living in a shitty apartment in a foreign city, recently broken up with your cheating boyfriend and overall just done with everything, you decide to at least have a little bit of fun when reinstalling that useless dating app.
WINGS by @/j-One25
โข ๐ท๏ธ
โ โOh, poor Y/N, what happened to you?โ Felix, your favourite fairy, asks once he witnesses your drenched clothes.
SWAN LAKE by @/j-One25
โข ๐ท๏ธ๐โโฌ๐ฆโโฌ
โ Felix has always been a hopeless romantic and believes he always will be. His life gives him hope again, when he meets you all unexpectedly for the first time.
HURRICANE by @/j-One25
โข๐ท๏ธ๐โโฌ
โ Freezing in your apartment due to a heater problem, it seems as if only one person can save you - your enemy Felix
but I'll know by @/yeahspider
โข ๐ฆโโฌ
โ one hour . thatโs how long felix had to wait before he could see you again .
Already over by @/yeahspider
โข ๐ท๏ธ๐ฆโโฌ
โ saying that what you guys had was never good to begin with . but they wouldnโt get it . because theyโve never been loved by lee felix .
Casual by @/yeahspider
โข ๐ท๏ธ
โ felix was never good at taking it slow . when he loved someone who loved them fast and intensely. and it was no different when it came to you .
Why does it hurt? by @/skz317cb97
โข๐ฆโโฌ
โ When your soulmate Felix can feel everything you feel he wonders, why does it always hurt?
Untitled #6 by @/matryosika
โข ๐ท๏ธ
โ It was an accident. He didnโt mean to see that. He was just curious.
Untitled #8 by @/matryosika
โข๐ท๏ธ
โ He was always unpredictable. There was always something else hiding behind that warm smile and those bright eyes โsomething that, not even in a million years you would dare to figure out.
Voice by @/matryosika
โข๐ท๏ธ๐ฆโโฌ
โ "you are doing so well, precious" felix says
Hwang Hyunjin Fic! Recommendations
(pt 1) my blogtw! โ some chapters/oneshots may contain heavy smut,horror,angst read at your ownrisk. ๐ โ smut ๐ซ โ fluff ๐ โ angst
BEUTY IN DEATH - Chase Atlantic โถโข ||ฤฑฤฑ|||ฤฑฤฑ|||||ฤฑ|ฤฑฤฑ|ฤฑ. 2:00
! Miniseries + synopsis
The Strange Man of Monterrey Manor by @/quokkacore
โข๐๐ (complete)
โ Willoughby, 1799 โ Life as the heiress of a disgraced house has not been kind to you. Youโre neglected, unwanted, and used as a bargaining chip for your father to weasel his way out of the debt he owes the moment you come of age. It takes a turn for the stranger when youโre chosen to wed the owner of the manor atop the mountain โ a mysterious, eccentric, cruel lord no one has ever seen. Whisked away to the dark and cold house and wed to a stranger, your questions become more and more. Why is Hyunjin the way that he is? What are the strange noises that echo through the house late at night? And why does your heart begin to beat faster whenever heโs nearby?
Pluto by @/seospicybin
โข ๐๐ (complete)
โ Knowing that your life will end soon, you choose to have your desired death by making a pact with the devil with a red hair, Hyunjin
The taste of honey by @/straywrds
โข ๐๐ (ongoing)
โ You were promised to Hyunjin before you were even born. Every year, he writes you a letter for your birthday and you write him one in return. Twenty years after the first correspondence, it's time for you to move to the Hwang Estate and meet him for the first time.
four of wands by @/straywrds
โข ๐๐ (ongoing)
โ โI didnโt say the Four of Wands appeared to people who are in love. I said it appeared to people who were falling in love. Itโs not the same thing.โ Hyunjin shook his head, his red hair falling back in front of his face, partially covering his eyes, like a storm moving over a dusky sky. โAnd, Iโm not a psychic. Iโm a witch.โ
INFERNO by @/cb97percent
โข๐๐๐ซ (ongoing)
โ Hyunjin is supposed to get married to his childhood best friend a month after he turns eighteen. He's so clueless about what "manhood" entails that his mother consults to arranging a "makeshift wife" to train him for it.
Anti-Romantic by @/jisungsdaydreamer
โข ๐๐๐ซ (ongoing)
โ After a lifetime of heartbreak, you try your chance at romance for one last time, meeting up with L.A.'s most beloved dating coach, Dr. Hwang Hyunjin. Lines are crossed and strange events ensue.
SUPER BOARD by @/straywrds
โข ๐๐๐ซ(ongoing)
โ He's the guy everybody has seen around but nobody actually knows anything about except that he's an art major and sells weed...
! ONESHOTS
need to know by @/hwajin
โข๐
surprises by @/writerracha
โข๐
magic and rune by @/mimziie
โข๐
taste by @/hwajin
โข๐
sweat by @/hwajin
โข๐
love untold by @/hwajin
โข ๐
insecure by @/hwajin
โข๐๐ซ
kitchen counter by @/hwajin
โข๐ซ
touch me by @/slutforleeminho
โข๐
hiii lovee
can you do a fic with chan with an overworked!trainee!reader, where he finds her asleep at a cafe near the JYP building, after his day of work and itโs just very fluffy and sweet
-๐ชป
i haven't got anything to say tbh so . . .
pairing: bang chan x overworked trainee!reader
summary: chan finds you asleep in the cafe near JYPE after a long day.
genre: idol & trainee!au, mentions of eating and drinking, chan needs to put a fucking screen filter on his laptop, reader is tired asf, mentions of injuries, self-doubt, chan is the softest mashed potato :[
a/n: i had to drag this out of my brain . . . div by @roseraris
skz masterlist
Chan left the JYP building with his head hung low.
In the dusty purple hue glowing from the late-evening sky, everything felt soft and pillowy, but he couldn't help but drag his feet in exhaustion. The scraping of his shoes against the pavement slowed to a stop as he lifted his head, inhaling a deep, cold breath of lilac air.
He groaned and stretched his back a little, feeling the satisfying vibration ring through his bones. He couldn't remember if he'd actually taken a break from working since the morning, and his eyes stung and watered as he blinked them shut.
"Ow," he huffed, scrubbing at his face. His knuckles came away wet and his vision momentarily blurred, strained from the constant focus on his screens in the studio.
Making a mental note to set his screen brightness lower next time, he looked up just as his eyes focused on the cafe across the street.
Small, golden, and cosy, it stayed open late enough for desperate trainees and exhausted artists to rest, a tiny slice of evening light in the otherwise-deserted streets of Seoul.
Chan checked his watch. He should really be heading back to the dorms; Jeongin would be expecting him. He wasn't sure he'd make it back without some sort of energy boost, though, so he looked across the streets both ways, and then crossed, pulling the wooden-framed door of the little cafe open.
The warm, golden glow of the overhead lights hit him with a soft ray of warmth, making his cheeks turn pink from the effects of the thawing cold in his blood. He sighed, pulling the door shut behind himself, and nodded once to the barista.
She smiled tiredly, wiping down the counter with a cloth, and moved away to attend to one of the coffee machines, too familiar with his face to cause much of a fuss.
Chan ordered a hot drink and paid, before stuffing his receipt in his pocket and looking around for somewhere to sit.
His gaze caught onto a small, hunched-over figure nestled in a tiny booth at the back, a cup of barely-touched tea next to them.
Chan smiled softly, the familiar flop of your hair and the usually-ruffled clothes drowning your frame pulling him like a magnet.
Sitting down next to you and shedding his coat, he draped it over your back before poking you lightly in the side.
"Mmhmff..."
"Wake up, Y/n."
Lifting your head, you groaned before rubbing your eyes with a fist. "Wha- Chan?"
He grinned, the skin around his eyes crinkling. He didn't seem to mind the lack of honorifics, simply choosing to stroke a strand of hair out of your face in an affectionate, brotherly gesture. "Hi."
You sighed sleepily before resting your head on the cushioned backseat of the booth. "What time is it?"
"Late enough." He pushed the cooling cup of tea towards you.
Taking a small sip with a momentous amount of effort, you pushed the cup away before blinking away the remnants of sleepiness. "What are you doing here?"
Chan nodded at the barista in thanks as she set down his drink in front of him, and pulled the steaming mug towards himself. "Needed a boost before heading home. Didn't feel like getting a ride home; I've been sat on my ass all day in the studio."
You snicker, fighting another yawn. "As per usual."
"Shut it, trainee."
A tiny laugh escaped your mouth; you pulled Chan's coat around yourself a little tighter, feeling the post-sleep shiver set in, a disturbance to your previous state. "I've been sleeping since four, I think. It was packed when I came in."
"It's bad for your back to sleep like that, you know."
You fired back without hesitation. "And it's bad to be shut up in a studio all day, staring at a screen."
Chan's chuckle warmed the air between you, a musky, welcoming sound. His voice cleared a little as he took a sip of his drink, the warm liquid soothing his throat. "Fair enough. Still, you shouldn't sleep here. Go home. Rest."
You shook your head, resting it on your folded forearms as you leaned over the table. "Too tired. I had dance practice all day."
He stared thoughtfully into the distance, gaze unfocused. "It can't have been that bad."
"I can't feel my legs. I think I pulled a muscle..."
"Which one?"
"All of them."
Chan choked on his drink, hiccupping as he thumped himself in the chest. You chuckled as he exhaled, wiping the last dregs of his drink from his lips. "Average trainee experience, huh?"
You sighed and nestled further into your forearms, Chan's heavy coat like a hug on your back. "Yeah. I don't seem to be getting any better, though. Lots of my friends have dropped out already."
Chan was silent for a moment. He pressed his fingertips to the warm porcelain of the mug in his hands, relishing its warmth. His voice was soft in the golden light. "Lots of trainees do. It's not just about talent, Y/n; you have to be able to keep pushing and persevering. You need heart."
"I do?"
"Yes," Chan sat back against the cushioned seat. "And you've got plenty of it, little one."
You couldn't fight the warmth rising in your cheeks.
"Okay," you whispered.
Chan's gaze was steady, measured; he ran a finger around the rim of the mug in his hands. "Keep your chin up, hmm? It gets easier around evaluation time. Just push as hard as you can for now and it'll pay off. I promise."
You gazed at him thoughtfully; the smooth, cold-flushed planes of his face, his dark, windswept hair. His eyes, perhaps a little baggy and strained, but as full of loveliness and affection as they had been the day you'd first met.
Your voice was quiet and thoughtful, wary as if you were afraid you'd be overstepping a boundary. "Was it worth it? The struggle?"
His gaze met yours, and he pushed the mug away. "I felt like it wasn't really worth it while I was training. But now, I'm the leader of a successful group, I've learnt so much and met so many new people, I get to spend my days doing what I love-"
"And you have seven kids."
He tweaked your nose, smiling at your cheeky interruption. "Eight. Including you."
You grinned, sleep still faintly dulling your senses in a pleasant, dreamy haze. "Me?"
Chan chuckled quietly. "Yes, you. Our little star-in-the-making."
He picked up your teacup and placed it next to his in the middle of the table. He reached into the pocket of his coat, still draped over you, and retrieved his phone.
"Come on. I'll take you home."
a/n: yayy new fic (do people even read these notes? comment if you do pls)
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pairing: best friend!bang chan x reader
summary: the aftermath of the fight, as well as another disaster, unexpectedly brings you and chan together .
genre: idol!au, mentions of eating, drinking, mentions of injuries, medical supplies and processes, mentions of self-neglect (chan forgets to use chapstick lmao), my poor minho :( , jisung chews his nails . . . bad quokka !! if i forgot anything (i probably did), comment and i'll add <3
a/n: part 4 everyone cheer !! gonna make a masterlist soon (lie) !! div by @ferretmilkshakezzz
skz masterlist | skz prompt list | part one | part two | part three
Chan walks home in the rain.
It's still thundering down like the skies have opened up, and the sensible part of him tells him to go back to your place and apologise, reason with you. Smooth a bandaid over your wounds, stroke a hand down your shoulders, make it all better like he has so many times before.
But he doesn't.
He keeps walking with his head down, the rain dripping off the slick strands of his hair, dripping into his eyes and falling unpleasantly down the front of his shirt, though it's already soaked beyond repair. It's freezing; so unbelievably cold that his skin is beginning to ache all over. The rain drives into his skin like a thousand tiny needles made of ice.
He grits his teeth and keeps walking. Time passes by in a shower of darkness and wet misery, and before he knows it, he's back at the dorm, shivering on the doorstep as he waits for Jeongin to open the door. His hands fly to his biceps and he stamps his feet, shivering and chattering as the door opens.
"Hyung?" Jeongin says, peeking around the door. He looks so cosy; oversized hoodie and sweats carrying the lingering scent of an evening hot drink. "What- You're soaking! Did you change your clothes...?"
Chan nods and steps inside, exhaling a puff of almost frozen air from his lungs. Jeongin disappears down the hallway in a whirl, presumably to fetch a towel, and Chan bites his lip harshly as he takes in the sudden sereness of his surroundings.
It should be no surprise; he lives here. But the way everything is set out, the placement of the furniture and little items on the shelves coupled with the rich scent of cocoa and soft blankets suddenly makes him shiver in a way he can't explain. And he knows it's not from the cold or the clammy wetness slicking his body.
He shouldn't be in here.
He should be outside, in the rain, in the cold, shivering and curling in on himself in the dark street. He should be out there, so blinded by the mist and the fog that he has no idea which way is where.
Because he deserves that. Not least because he literally blew up in his best friend's face and stormed out of their house.
Along with a few other things, he thinks bitterly.
"Here," Jeongin says suddenly, thrusting two towels in his face. Chan takes them and his younger member stands by worriedly, fluttering around like he's not quite sure what to do. "What happened?"
Chan just shakes his head, flinging drops of water like crystals from his hair. Turning, he slips off his waterlogged shoes, toes off his socks, and then trails down the hallway like a phantom. Albeit a very wet one at that.
Jeongin stares after him in utter confusion.
.
Chan hisses as the hot water hits his skin.
It's a welcome change from the wet cold he was drenched in earlier, but it feels strange, the difference in temperature. Like pouring boiling water over frozen bones, they don't immediately thaw.
His temper does, though.
Groaning, he leans his head on the tiled wall of the shower; it's steamy from the condensation, as are the glass walls. His hand comes up to lightly tug at his hair, trying to remove the waterlogged feel of it. Like he can just rinse it all off.
Resting his forearm on the tiled wall, he sighs and turns the shower temperature a little hotter. He's been standing under the stream for who knows how long, but he can't quite bring himself to reach for the handle and turn the water off. Not yet.
His forearm slips against the tiles and knocks unpleasantly against his chest, almost knocking the breath out of his lungs. Standing up abruptly, his vision is blinded by the hot stream of water and he hisses before slapping the handle. The water jet turns off and he rubs at his eyes with a wet fist before sighing and stepping out.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, he steps out of the bathroom and jolts.
Hyunjin is sitting calmly on the bed; his long, elegant form is swathed in a dark hoodie and a pair of basketball shorts. He doesn't look cold despite the weather outside; though inside the dorm, warmth hangs in the air like a thick woollen blanket.
Stumbling and fetching up against the bathroom doorframe, Chan hisses before tossing a can of deodorant at his friend from the dresser. It hits his knee with a metallic clang before rolling under the bed. Hyunjin stares after it with a look of mildly piqued interest.
"Didn't know we were throwing aerosols to deal with our problems now," he remarks dryly before gesturing to the bathroom. "You took a while in there."
Chan huffs and sits down on the bed, feeling a lingering drop of water slide down his spine as he leans over, elbows on knees. "I wouldn't have taken as long if I knew you'd be here. Did Jeongin let you in?"
"No," Hyunjin says sarcastically. "I climbed seven stories and then broke in through the window."
One hand meets the bridge of Chan's nose, rubbing to ease the tired tension set between his brows. "Minho's humour is rubbing off on you."
"Minho-hyung wouldn't have done what you did."
Chan scoffs and moves to the dresser, slipping off the towel and replacing it with a pair of sweats, a tank, and a hoodie, all black. Hyunjin turns his back without being told, sighing as he twists his ring around his long, knobby fingers.
Feeling the weight of his friend on the mattress next to him, Hyunjin turns back and is met with Chan sprawled out on the mattress, rather like a fish after the tide has gone out. He's left flapping and dying on the sand.
"I'm guessing Y/n told you what happened," Chan says, his tone dead and tired.
"She called me crying, saying that you exploded at her and then left."
"Yep. You idiot."
Chan makes a strangled noise, throwing his hands up in the air and then letting them collapse by his sides. They bounce against the mattress. "I- That wasn't how it was supposed to go."
Hyunjin tilts his head. "She also got pissed at me because I let you use my phone to text her. So..." He lies down next to Chan, nestling in the duvet underneath him. "We're both in the wrong."
Closing his eyes, Chan rolls onto his side and regards his friend with a cool, stony stare. "You haven't said anything, have you?"
"About what?"
A pointed glance.
Hyunjin scoffs and looks up at the ceiling. "No. But I think you should."
"I can't. She hates me. Even more, if that's humanly possible. It'll just make this mess worse."
"Then at least apologise to her, hyung."
Chan sighs; a deep, weary exhale betraying the depth of his exhaustion. "Fine. Just- I need time to think."
Hyunjin nods. "I'm sure she does as well. For now, rest, and try to avoid getting sick. We have a lot to do in the next few weeks." He puts a hand on his friend's shoulder as he sits up. "Go and eat something, and then sleep. Let's put this mess aside for now and clear our minds. Everything will be fine."
"Do you think so?"
Hyunjin grins. "I know so. Now quick, go and eat something before Jeongin scoffs the whole pantry."
.
Chan can't focus.
Not on his schedules, or his training, or his dancing or singing or socialising or any other one of the multitude of roles he's somehow picked up along the way of being the leader of Stray Kids.
He wakes up. He sleepwalks his way through dance and vocal practices, half-asses his production work, does a photoshoot or an interview which he can't find it in himself to care about, does some more practice, and then crashes into bed.
Today is no different.
"Jisung, like this," Minho pushes his younger member's arms into the right position for the choreography, demonstrating the step. "Make sure you pop your chest before moving here- And then like this, see?"
"I don't get it."
Minho groans playfully, tugging lightly on Jisung's hair before moving to correct Seungmin's position. "Chan-hyung will show you."
Jisung looks across at his leader, who is standing half-dazed in the middle of the floor, clearly not up to the task. Which is unusual, along with the fact that he hasn't bothered to wrangle the rest of the kids into practicing like normal.
Hyunjin and Jeongin are fighting in the corner, and Changbin is on the floor on his phone. The rest of the members whine and complain, halfheartedly dancing, and Minho rubs a finger across his temple as his gaze follows Jisung's.
"Okay, fine," he sighs. "Just work on the first part. Seungmin, go do it with him."
Both members trail to the back of the room, beginning to run through the choreo again. Minho stalks up to his leader and tugs lightly on the stiff brim of his cap.
"Hyung," he says firmly. "I know you're tired, but we have a lot to do. Just this practice, then we can take a break tomorrow. But you have to help me out, okay?" He gestures to the chaotic mess of members around the room. "They only listen to you, and you're standing here like a ghost. Help me."
Chan is silent.
"Hyung," Minho says insistently, peering into his leader's face. "Help me."
No answer.
Minho sighs, turning away and feeling rather crestfallen as he begins the first line of choreography again. There's a strange feeling bubbling in his stomach, one that's unpleasant and rather reminds of when he was younger, being told off for breaking something or getting into a scuffle.
It's not like Chan to brush him off.
He didn't really brush me off, Minho thinks. Just kind of- Ignored me. I wonder if something's wrong. I heard Hyunjin saying he went to go talk to Y/n... Maybe they fought. Ah, this isn't ideal... We have a comeback soon.
How am I supposed to keep everyone in line? Chan-hyung won't do it.. Maybe he's upset with me, too. Maybe I should be doing better. I'll come back and practice tonight.
"Minho-hyung, we did the first part." Seungmin emerges from behind him, rolling up his sleeves. Jisung nods dutifully next to him. "How do you do the switch part where we move? Because I go forward to centre but Jisung-hyung and I have to move around each other..."
Minho racks his brain for the choreography. He knows this. He knows every step, every turn, every switch. He could do it in his sleep.
But suddenly, he can't remember.
Panic rises in his gut like bile creeping up his throat. He clears it awkwardly and clenches his fists as he desperately attempts to recall the steps. His vision blurs and he fiercely wills the unexpected emotion away.
"Take a break," he says, strained, cheeks pink in embarrassment. I don't want to be upset in front of them. "We'll do the next part tomorrow. I don't think we're going to get much done today anyway."
Seungmin and Jisung share a strange look before nodding quietly and wandering off.
Minho bites his lip as he watches them go. A sharp tang erupts in his mouth and he whimpers suddenly, tasting blood.
A pathetic feeling settles on his shoulders before it's overtaken by a wave of anger and frustration. His gaze flickers to Chan. He's still standing in the middle of the floor. Dead to the world.
Minho's gaze is afresh with determination.
I'm going to do better, hyung.
.
There's a knock on the door.
"Come in," Chan calls wearily. He's been sitting slumped against the desk, flicking a pen with his finger. It rolls up, then down, then falls to the floor as Hyunjin steps into the room.
He closes the door quietly, hovering in the doorway.
Chan doesn't look up; he doesn't need to. He's known his members long enough to recognise whose footsteps are whose, and he sighs and picks up the pen before turning to regard Hyunjin with a tired gaze.
"You again," he says, though there's no maliciousness behind it. "It's late."
"Hey," Hyunjin replies quietly. "I know. Can we talk?"
Chan gestures to the small leather couch behind his chair. Hyunjin sits and shifts uncomfortably. Clearly it's taken a lot of courage for him to appear at the studio, and his hands twist around each other in his lap.
"So," Hyunjin begins awkwardly.
"I haven't told her, if that's what you're wondering," Chan says calmly. He feels anything but.
Hyunjin doesn't look up, but the slight set of tension in his shoulders relaxes slightly. A puff of air escapes his lips. "I don't know if I should tell her. It feels wrong."
"It isn't wrong," Chan reasons.
"It is, kind of. Knowing that all this time..." He trails off, clearly guilty. "I just don't know when the right time is. Especially because you two fought."
"We didn't fight," Chan groans. "I just- I wanted to tell her so badly, but after the restaurant, I didn't know how to process things, and once I found out about this..." He gestures vaguely. "It was just so frustrating to not be able to tell her the truth."
"You need to, Chan."
"I know-"
"No," Hyunjin says firmly. "You need to really tell her. Sit her down when she isn't busy, apologise, and explain everything. Like we talked about last night. She deserves to know that much at least. It'll be good for you too."
Chan tugs off his cap. "What do you mean, good for me?"
"Hyung, you've been running on nothing but fumes since you stormed out of Y/n's place that night. You haven't been able to focus on anything, and we're falling behind. The comeback is soon."
"I know, I know," Chan sighs, slumping in his chair. "It just seems selfish to tell her how I feel, considering..."
The studio falls silent. Hyunjin stares at his friend with a look of empathy, though it's tinged with sadness in the dim light of the room. "You really do love her, don't you?"
Chan nods sincerely. "I know someone else does too. That's why I held back... It was so frustrating, Hyunjin. You have no idea..."
Hyunjin has the grace to look sheepish, running a hand over his dark buzzed hair. "Do they know that you know? The other person who likes her..."
"I don't think so."
Hyunjin leans forward, tugging curiously at the neckline of his shirt. "Do you know who it is?"
He nods again, leaning closer and lowering his voice. "It's-"
"Chan-hyung!" Jisung throws open the studio door, red-faced and breathless. "Come quick!"
Chan stands up immediately, Hyunjin following. His brow furrows in concern. "Jisung, calm down. What's wrong?"
Jisung's eyes widen fractionally in panic. "Minho-hyung is hurt."
.
He was just trying to practice.
One late-night dance practice wouldn't hurt, right? It would do him so good, help him clean up his moves before the rest of the members came to their senses and realised that he isn't competent enough to be teaching the group choreography.
Great work, Minho. Absolutely fantastic.
Now he sits in the middle of the dance studio floor, cradling his ankle between white-knuckled hands. The rest of the members flutter around him, along with some of the medical staff, and the door flies open once more as Hyunjin and Chan stride in, faces set in worry. Jisung follows, chewing anxiously at his nails.
"Minho," Chan says, kneeling by his side. He exhales sharply as his fingers lightly touch his shin, inspecting the damage. "What happened?"
"I'm fine." He fights a grimace.
"What happened?" Chan's voice is stern, strained with worry. He has every right to be; Minho's ankle is swollen and red, already bruising, but he feels a sharp pang of sadness at his leader's tone. And it somehow seems to hurt more than the injury itself, even if just for a moment.
He seals his mouth shut, pressing his lips together, and looks away.
"He was doing a late-night practice of the choreo," Jisung explains, moving to put an arm around Jeongin and Felix. "We came in a little later because I forgot my phone, and he was on the floor."
"He must have fallen doing the dance break," Jeongin says quietly, meekly nestling into Jisung's side.
Minho interjects with a sharp cry of pain as one of the staff members presses ice to the joint. It stings and aches and feels a little better all at the same time. His throat bobs, swallowing thickly, and a bead of sweat blooms a damp, circular patch on the cotton of his shirt.
Chan goes tense and calls out several instructions to the staff, his previous misery clearly forgotten. Turning back to Minho, his eyes flit all over his body, worriedly checking for any other injury. "You shouldn't have been up this late. And alone, too; you know bad things happen this way."
Minho flinches at his sharp tone. "Hyung-"
"No, Minho," Chan says firmly. "Promise you won't do it again. And tell me why you did it in the first place; it's not like you to be up so late to begin with-"
"I was trying to make you happy, hyung," he interrupts miserably, biting his lip.
The members fall silent, and the staff members bustling around with medical supplies and phone calls have the good grace to do the same.
"What?" Chan's tone is disbelieving.
"You were so down, so upset, and I thought it was because of Y/n, but I tried talking to you earlier during practice and you brushed me off, and it felt so hurtful, and I just wanted to do better, hyung," Minho cries, words tumbling out of his mouth. "I thought it would help- I wanted you to be proud of me..."
Chan presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. It ends in more of a sigh, and he crouches closer to the younger member, reaching up to brush a strand of slick hair out of his face. "I am proud of you. I always have been, no matter what you do or achieve. And I want you to know that I'm sorry, Minho," he stands up. "Everyone. I'm truly sorry. I've been so lost in my head and I forgot what matters to me. I'm going to fix this, I promise."
"Fix his ankle first, hyung," Jeongin chides him bravely, clearly fed up. "Apologise later."
The rest of the members groan and agree, and even Minho fights back a familiar smirk, grimacing as one of the staff adjusts him gently.
Chan lets a grin crack his mouth, the first real bubble of happiness rising up in him, even though it's small. It feels strangely good to be told off, snapped back into his senses.
He adjusts his dark cap on his head. "Right."
.
"Hey, Minho."
He looks up from the mess of blankets and cushions swaddling his figure on the couch. Blinks once, and then shuffles upwards to peek out at you with curious, catlike eyes.
"Y/n."
Grinning, you shut the door quietly and step into the dorm, pocketing your spare key. Toeing off your shoes, you place them neatly by the rack and then move over to where Minho is on the couch. "I bet you didn't hear me, hmm?"
He shakes his head rather shyly, clearly pleased to see you. He picks up the remote and pauses the show he's been watching. "I missed you."
"I missed you too, Min," you say gently, placing a bag on the table and carefully bringing out a box. "I bet your stomach missed me too... I brought donuts."
You don't even get to finish your sentence before Minho dives into the box. Laughing, you stand up and pet his soft, messy hair before moving to the counter and placing a tote bag on the marble. "Leave some for Jisung. I'll get him to drop this stuff off too..."
Minho looks up, licking sugar and cinnamon from his fingers. "What's in that bag?"
"Chan's clothes," you say quietly. "He forgot them when he came to see me."
There's a silent moment of understanding where you move back to the couch and Minho dusts the remaining sugar off his hands. But it doesn't feel awkward like you were afraid it would.
You clear your throat. "How's your ankle?"
He sighs and closes the donut box, lifting his ankle from the couch. It's wrapped in a soft, white bandage, and you can still see some of the bruising peeking out like rose petals. He turns it side to side, inspecting. "It's better. I'm still not allowed to dance, though. Two more weeks."
You touch his knee. "I know it's hard not being able to dance, Min. Good on you for resting, though... I was convinced they'd have to tie you up- Ow."
He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he lightly pinches your arm. "Not funny. It sucks being stuck here all day."
You sigh and lean back against the couch. "Surely they'd let you come down and watch the practices, at least."
Minho shakes his head. "No. I'd just get tempted to try and get up. It's better this way."
You nod. "I see."
"You know," he continues quietly, "I missed you."
"I know, Min-"
"No," he interrupts. "Not just because of this," he gestures to his ankle. "I missed you when we went out with the guys and the dance crew girls. When we used to leave the company at 3 am to get snacks. I missed you hanging around us. I was upset about it for a while before I realised there was something going on with you and Chan."
"I ruined everything," you sigh. "If I hadn't burst out that night at the restaurant, none of this would have happened."
"And then you would have gone years without getting a chance to tell him how you feel," Minho says reasonably without missing a beat. "Better now than later, where things will be more complicated."
"Things are already complicated."
"Even so, it's better to do it now," he says earnestly. "At least you don't have to waste time pretending you don't love him. The feelings are out, Y/n; now you and Chan just have to work them out. And there's no reason you can't do it together. Like you both always have."
You're quiet, and before you can open your mouth to reply to his unexpectedly reassuring statement, the door opens.
Changbin and Jisung enter the dorm, clattering and bickering about a reworked lyric of the upcoming album's title track. Felix follows, laughing and attempting to stop the argument, finishing off the remains of a coffee. They stop mid-argument, gazes locking with yours, and both fall silent. Someone else steps into the dorm, shutting the door and pulling a dark cap off his head.
"So," Minho says uncomfortably, "I might have forgotten to tell you 3RACHA and Felix were coming over tonight..."
"Minho." You hiss at him.
"Sorry, sorry, it slipped my mind... Injuries and all..."
You filter his excuses out and stand, brushing yourself off. "Hey."
"Hey," Changbin, Felix, and Jisung all awkwardly reply in unison.
Chan turns around in surprise, tugging out his earphones. Clearly he wasn't expecting to see you standing in the middle of the room, and you see his throat bob before he stuffs the headphone cord in the pocket of his hoodie, wary.
No one moves.
You take the first step and pick up your bag, nodding a goodbye to Minho before you move past the couch. "I'll, um- I'm going now. See you later. Feel better, Min."
You fly out the door, fumbling to pull it shut behind yourself. Chan hasn't moved as you went past him, and the scent of his musky, faded cologne follows you in wisps as you head down the corridor with hasty steps.
Shit, you whine inwardly, pressing a hand to your hot cheeks. That was so awkward. Talk about bad timing.
You turn to the left and walk down the corridor before turning to go down the steps to the main floor, focused on leaving as quickly as possible in your embarrassment. In your haste, you miss a step and your stomach swoops unpleasantly downward as you trip.
Time freezes.
Gasping, you open your eyes, and look down at the staircase below. One foot hovers in the air, the other at such an angle behind you that you can't possibly understand how you aren't falling.
Someone pulls you back and you flail, only now feeling the strong, warm grip of a hand on your wrist. Both hands meet a solid chest as you're pulled back to face whoever it is that caught you.
Chan gazes down at you, expression unreadable.
He has total power over you right now; if he lets go, you'll tumble down the stairs. There's a small half of his expression that rather makes him look like he wants to do it.
But the other half...
"Chan," you whisper.
"Planning to break your ankle like Minho?" He doesn't smile, his arms warm and steady around your waist. You're on your tiptoes, body pressed against his as you attempt to balance, but it's impossible without him. "You didn't have to leave."
"I-" You gulp. "I had plans."
"Liar," he says without hesitating. "With who?"
Silence.
Your heart pounds in your chest, smacking against your ribs like a wild, caged animal trying to escape. You look away, giving up without bothering to defend yourself, and Chan exhales.
"Could've just let me fall," you say suddenly, tone bitter. It bubbles out of you unexpectedly like fizz from a shaken can of lemonade.
He blinks, dark eyes regarding you with a calm gaze. He doesn't look as nervous as you thought he would. "Why would I do that?"
You scoff quietly and look away.
"I do care, you know," he says, his voice quiet. One hand comes up to gently brush away a strand of your hair. "Just in case you forgot."
For a moment, everything feels right; the brush of his calloused fingertips, the warmth between you; it's like it was before. Calm and comforting and familiar and Chan.
Before.
Part of you wants to break away from the touch, toss your head and shoo him away. But you don't. You let his hand gently move to touch your cheek, skating down the textured, smooth surface of your skin, caressing the curve of your jaw.
You don't pull away when his breath fans over you, stirring your hair in a faint wave, smelling of mint and coffee and something unmistakeably sweet.
You don't push him back when he lifts you gently, just enough to have your toes touching the ground, and steps back to the top of the landing, carrying you as if you were a doll.
You don't scoff at him when he lets a hand fall to the small of your back, guiding you closer, his touch magnetic and sweet and wildly addicting and so, so warm.
Like the Chan you know. The before Chan. The best friend Chan.
The one who always brought you little flowers when you were both younger to make you smile.
The one who excitedly sang and played his guitar for you on cool summer evenings.
The one who held your hand when you crossed a busy street.
The one who seamlessly included you into a group of friends without trying, because he knew it'd ease your worries of being alone when you first moved to Seoul.
The one, who right now, is gently pressing his mouth to yours in a hesitant, almost dazed action of searing contact, pulling away slightly. As if he's afraid.
Without thinking, you let him tug you gently closer, and one hand meets his collar, softly pulling him in. You didn't even notice when your mouths met.
You feel dizzy.
His lips are chapped; you pinch him lightly on the shoulder, chiding him for the self-neglect, and he chuckles against your mouth. He knows what you're saying.
He always does and he always has.
He barely has time to murmur your name in a blurry, heated whisper before the unmistakeable clatter of footsteps down the hallway makes you both pull back, panting.
Blinking, you and Chan stare down the hallway, fighting to rejoin reality, clinging to each other as your grip tightens on his shoulders.
Your mouth goes dry.
Felix stares brokenly from the end the corridor.
a/n: i hope the wait was worth it . . . nyeheheheheh !!
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pairing: bf!bang chan x reader
summary: chan comes home upset from the latin american leg of the dominate tour.
genre: reverse comfort, idol!au, angsty, mentions of exhaustion, lots of crying, skz deserve better. reader comforts channie, mentions of delusion, mentions of eating and drinking
a/n: yall who think what happened in brazil is funny, or think it was 'just a joke' or 'fans showing support' get tf off my blog. i don't wanna see or talk to anyone who thinks what happened was okay. leave skz alone, leave chris alone. that man is not your punching bag, he's not responsible for fixing all your fucking problems, keeping everyone happy, or in charge of anyone's but his own happiness. that shit you gotta do yourself. this is so fucking disappointing, i'm ashamed to call myself a stay at the moment. let chris live his damn life and let the kids do the same. fuck yall 'stays'. if you were a real stay you wouldn't be doing this shit.
i stand with skz.
skz masterlist | skz prompt list
"Love?" You call softly, peeking around the bedroom door frame. "Did you wanna come and eat something?"
All you get in response is a muffled 'no' and the sound of shuffling as Chan shifts slightly on the bed. The warm lamplight from the bedside tables spill across his back, highlighting the skin in a rosy, haloed glow.
You sigh and pad over to him softly, sitting on the bed. "I know you might not feel like it, but you need some good food after all that travelling."
Chan shakes his head again, further mussing his unbrushed hair. The curls are squashed and fluffy from him burrowing his head into the pillows, but he doesn't seem to care. Not once has he lifted his head to take a breath of air, and you sigh and push his head gently to the side to do it for him.
He turns his head away, facing the opposite direction; you can hear the shudder from his lungs as he gulps in the fresh coldness of the air; you'd set the thermostat colder, just as he likes it, but he hadn't seemed to take any notice.
You sigh again, running a gentle hand down the soft, albeit slightly dry skin of his back. His duffel bag and suitcase is still in the corner of the room, the zip on his bag half undone as if he'd had the intention of unpacking, but he hasn't.
You'd left him to sort himself out and shower before coming to eat, but it seemed he'd just stripped himself of his outfit and tossed himself on the bed.
Couldn't say you blamed him.
Chan speaks then, low and muffled from the pillow. "I need to go to the company."
"It hasn't even been twenty minutes since you've been home, love," you chide him gently. "Just rest., hmm? All of that can come tomorrow. It doesn't look like you can even move right now..."
Chan groans and burrows his head further into the pillows; you take a soft fistful of his hair and tug it lightly, guiding his head to the side. Your heart lurches.
Chan is crying.
His makeup is smudged; you immediately rest your hands on his shoulders. They're tense as rocks. A black streak of eyeshadow has smeared itself across the white pillowcase, as well as some of his concealer; he doesn't seem to care, and neither do you.
"Channie, my love," you say as gently as you can. You can't hide the worry on your face. "What's wrong?"
That's a useless question. You know exactly what's wrong.
He sits up suddenly, as if to get up, but he collapses on his knees, digging them into the soft sheets. He throws his hands out.
"It's not fair," he cries desperately. "I do everything I can to make things work, and then it all just gets thrown to the side... I can't even open my mouth anymore without my words being twisted..."
You sit there, eyes wide and bewildered, watching this outburst. It's so oddly unlike him to do this, but you know exactly what he's talking about.
"I- The kids, too, they have to deal with all of this, I couldn't wait for us to leave because of what happened at the hotel... They were taking videos of us, videos of one of the kids just standing outside on the balcony, minding his own business, and I couldn't sleep all night because of them chanting, I just-" He hiccups, a tear spilling from each eye like a shattered crystal.
"I just want it all to go right, but it doesn't, and no matter what I do it's not enough," he keels over then, and you pull him into your lap. He lets his lower half kneel over the bed, his face buried in your thighs.
Your vision starts to blur, and a tear drops into his hair, but neither of you take notice. "Channie..."
"I chose this life, Y/n, I chose all of this, I thought I could handle it but I'm not so sure anymore. I want to be happy, and perform without worrying about all of this, I want everyone to just leave me alone..." He's crying freely now, hands gripping your hips as his back shakes, and it's all you can do not to start crying yourself.
That sadness is quickly taken over by a wave of disapproval and anger, anger at the people who dare treat your lover like this, treat his group like performing monkeys at a circus, to be poked and prodded at.
How dare they.
It's not fair. He's right. And you know you can't fix it, make it all better, kiss it healed like you have so many times before. And it's that feeling of helplessness, that overwhelming powerlessness, that makes you lean down and whisper fiercely in Chan's ear.
"Listen to me," you whisper. "It doesn't matter who did it, it doesn't matter if they thought it was right. I can't sit here and tell you I can fix it, because I can't, and neither can you, because it's not your problem, it will never be your problem. You are not their toy. Channie, my love, all you need to do is keep going. That's it, without looking back.
"Forget about those people who pretend to be Stays, who are nothing more than obsessed delusional idiots. I know it's hard. They are so completely and utterly lost in their own worlds, and you can't tie yourself into knots to fix them, because it's impossible.
"I know it hurts, love, and I know it's frustrating, especially for the kids too. None of you deserve to be treated like that, like you have to be filmed and screamed at and all of those other things-"
"But if I don't let them, then they all start hating me," his eyes are teary, utterly exhausted with emotion.
"Chris, you are not a doll," you say firmly, cupping his face. "You are not responsible for everyone's happiness. You are responsible for your own joy. So are the kids. I know you feel like you have to take the weight of the world on your shoulders, but it doesn't mean that you have to take everyone's bullshit alongside it too...
"You are a musician, an artist, not a miracle worker or some sort of magician that can take everyone's troubles away or perform to everyone's unrealistic standards. And as for those idiots who stalked you outside your hotel, JYP is taking measures to deal with it. And he says it's fine if you want to take a break for a while."
"I don't want to," he says quietly, inhaling your scent as you lean down to kiss the crown of his head. "I just wanted to be home with you, and I am."
"Love..."
"Please," he says, quieter. His tears have slowed. "I don't wanna talk about this anymore. It makes me angry, and being angry is exhausting. I'm already exhausted."
You sigh and crack a tiny smile, tapping his cheek lightly. Already you can see his resilience taking effect. Nothing keeps him down for long, your Chan.
"I'll let it go if you promise to come and eat something," you say. "Otherwise, I'm gonna call the kids to spend the night here and they'll eat all of the food I made for you-"
"Okay, okay," he groans, heaving himself upright. "I'm coming. Please don't call them, I've lost enough sleep trying to keep them all in line."
You laugh and kiss him. His lips are slightly chapped, and you tsk softly into the kiss as he stands up, taking you with him.
"Y/n," he murmurs, burning hands slipping to your waist.
"Thought you were too tired," you giggle.
He doesn't respond, instead tugging you closer. You reluctantly pull back and poke his side, making him gasp.
He pulls back too, fighting a sheepish look as you stare pointedly at the bathroom door. "Go shower, then come eat. Now."
He rolls his eyes and steals another kiss to your cheek as he heads towards the bathroom. "Fine."
Chuckling, you make your way to the door, heading to the kitchen. Your feet slow at the door threshold, and you turn to look back at Chan as he busies himself with pulling out a fresh set of clothes from his drawers. Even exhausted and upset, he's still beautiful. Your heart sinks a little as you watch the tear tracks on his face glisten under the lamplight, but you don't bring it up. Instead-
"Channie," you say softly.
He looks up, a black hoodie in one hand.
Your voice is gentle, almost hesitant. "It'll be okay, you know that, right?"
He nods quietly, solemn as you've ever seen him. "I know."
You feel your lips curving into a soft but sad smile. "I love you."
He blinks. "I love you more."
"That's not possible," you say teasingly as you turn and head towards the kitchen.
His laugh echoes through the house.
a/n: none bc i'm fucking pissed.
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude
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pairing: best friend!bang chan x reader
summary: you're greeted with an unexpected surprise that same evening. but no one said it would be pleasant . . .
genre: angsty (everyone say it with me), idol!au, mentions of injuries, blood, cuts, scrapes, mentions of first aid kits and medical supplies, slight suggestive warning (nothing intense or graphic), lots of back and forth, lots of crying, i think i missed something but this chapter is sadder than the last two combined . . . i'm not sorry
a/n: yall wanted part 3 . . . SUFFER ! ! div by @ferretmilkshakezzz
skz masterlist | skz prompt list | part one | part two
Chan is soaked.
His hair looks as if it had been styled earlier; not anymore, and the rain drips down strands of his hair and into the neckline of his tee. The white fabric clings to his skin, turning sheer under his leather jacket; its dark, smooth surface collects water in the grooves, running off the silver-clipped cuffs.
His bare skin has a thin sheen of water over it, like he'd wiped his face before knocking. He stares at you with flushed cheeks, shining wet and dark under the warm light of your porch.
"Y/n," he says cautiously. The rain thunders behind him, and you can barely hear the whisper of your name as the wind carries it into the house behind you.
You step back.
Chan doesn't move; doesn't ask to come in, or offer an explanation. He simply stands. Like he showed up at your door without a plan or anything to say. The thought pisses you off, and before you know it, you're moving to slam the door.
He presses a hand to the frame before you can shut it; the satisfying bang that was supposed to come from the slam is replaced with the dull thud of the wood smacking against Chan's hand.
He doesn't flinch.
The skin instantly turns an angry red, a raw scrape running across the top two knuckles. Your hand grips the doorknob as you watch a thick rivulet of scarlet bloom across the wound and run between the dip of his fingers, mixing with the rainwater, tinging his palm pink.
Your voice is low, but firm enough that he can still hear it over the cacophony of rain behind him. "What do you want, Chan?"
Silence. Then-
"To talk."
You glare at him, feeling your shoulders go rigid. "Bit late for that, don't you think?"
He does flinch then, from the cold tone in your voice, but he pleads anyway. "Please, Y/n. I just want to figure this out. Let me in."
You scoff and bite the inside of your cheek. The audacity. "You had time to come and see me, both when I was in hospital, and yesterday, when I came back home. Why now?"
"I-" He pauses. "I had to think things through."
You don't have a reply for that. You needed time to process things too. His reply is valid enough. And it's not like he could have texted or called you; you'd blocked him on every platform, and given the members explicit instructions not to let him contact you through them.
Wordlessly, you step aside.
Chan hesitates for a split second before toeing off his shoes and stepping inside. The door brushes his shoulder as you shut it, quieting the din from outside, and he stands there awkwardly, clearly not sure what to do. He doesn't seem to notice the injury on his hand, and blood drips onto the floor, mixing with the rainwater around his feet.
"Wait here," you say monotonely.
Leaving him standing by the door, you head upstairs to fetch a fluffy towel from the linen closet. Pausing by the landing, you spin on your heel towards your bedroom and fetch an oversized shirt and sweats from your drawers.
Chan doesn't look at you as you come back down the stairs; he's still fixed in position as you left him. There's a sizeable puddle around his feet now, tinged with pink where blood from his hand is still dripping. You thrust the towel at him and place the clothes on the back of the couch.
He takes them with a quiet nod of thanks, still not making eye contact. You watch as he pauses, clearly not wanting to trail water over your floor.
"It's fine," you sigh. "Just use the towel after."
He nods and moves to the coffee table in the midst of the living room, taking out several items; his wallet, keys, and his phone in a plastic bag, as well as a few random things like a chapstick, gum wrapper, and crumpled sticky note. Ink stains his fingers as he sets it down on the table, along with everything else.
You wonder dryly as to how he managed to remember to put his phone in a plastic bag to protect it, but somehow forgot to bring an umbrella with him.
The thought is chased away as Chan sheds his jacket. You blink as he brings his arms over his head, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He's-
Oh.
Oh.
You spin around with a squeak and your hands fly to cover your eyes. Chan doesn't remark on this; simply towels his torso down, puts on the shirt you left on the couch, and does the same for his lower half.
He's reasonably quick with it; by the time you turn around, cautiously lowering your hands from your eyes, he's dried off his hair and the water he trailed on the floor.
He folds his wet clothes, save for his leather jacket, which has dried, and places them on top of the damp towel. He stands with the items in his hands, an unspoken question hanging in the air.
"Put them in the guest bathroom," you say. There is nothing welcoming or gentle about your stance or tone. Just firm, cold instructions.
Chan wanders down the hallway and you sigh, fetching your first aid kit from the kitchen drawer. By the time he comes back, bare feet padding across the tiles, you're sat on the couch with an antiseptic wipe in your hand.
Wordlessly, he sits down beside you, keeping his distance, and lets you swipe the cold pad across his knuckles. You don't coo or utter words or sympathy as you normally would have; cleaning it briskly of the blood, you wind a soft, clean bandage around the top half on his hand and secure it at the wrist.
He flexes his hand as you tuck the empty antiseptic packet into the kit, zipping it up and pushing it to the side. Part of you feels bad, exhibiting this cold demeanour to your best friend, but the other half of you, the much louder part, says he deserves it. Not to say that it isn't partly your fault either.
Is he even your best friend anymore?
You think about yesterday night at this time, sitting with Hyunjin as he stroked fingers across your blanketed knee, cooing and talking to you gently. The air then was filled with unspoken compassion, a mature gentleness, and mutual understanding.
It is nothing like that now. The atmosphere is thick with tension.
"Are you feeling better?" Chan asks quietly.
His voice is tired, void of expectation, but you can detect a slight glimmer of hope behind his words, however short his sentences are.
"Fine," you say curtly, ignoring the stabbing guilt in your heart.
He exhales, tucking up his knees to his chest. "I wanted to come and see you, you know. In hospital."
You fix your eyes on the lamp like you did with Hyunjin yesterday. "So why didn't you?"
"I was afraid."
You fight a scoff. "Afraid of what?"
Silence. Then, "I didn't want to make you feel any worse than you already did."
You actually do scoff then, glaring at him in your peripheral. "Don't spare my feelings, Chris. If you really cared, you would have told me anyway, because the truth is what I needed. Not you avoiding me for almost two weeks because you were too afraid to face me."
He flinches at the odd use of his name, but doesn't retaliate. You can tell you've cut him with the formality, and a look of hurt clouds his eyes before he wills it away. "I'm sorry, Y/n."
"I don't care."
He sighs, running his fingers along the hem of the shirt. A stray droplet of water from his still-drying hair soaks into the fabric, blooming a damp patch on the cotton.
You exhale. "How did you even know I would be home?"
He lifts his gaze. "What?"
"How did you know I would be home when you came?"
He sheepishly scratches the back of his head. "I begged Hyunjin for his phone. The texts from him earlier earlier were from me."
A breathless, disbelieving laugh punches its way out of your chest. "So, first you avoided me, then lied to me, and now you're trying to justify lying to me again through Hyunjin."
Chan throws his hands up. "He agreed to it!"
"That doesn't make it right!" You cry.
He groans, slapping both hands onto his face. "I was a coward, okay? And I didn't want to hurt you, even though I know I already have. I just-" He sighs. "This is a mess."
"Yeah," you mutter. "It is. And I'm going to kill Hyunjin."
"Y/n, just listen," he says desperately. "I don't need you to forgive me. I need you to understand. I'm so sorry I wasn't honest with you-"
"Did you know how I felt?"
He stutters, caught out by your hasty interruption. "I- What?"
Your voice wavers and you curse it for doing so. "Did you know how I felt about you?"
"I-" He leans back again, biting the inside of his cheek. "I had suspicions after you left the restaurant that night, but I figured it might have been because of Chae-"
"Do you like her?"
"No," he says instantly. "I- She's nice and all, but- I don't know. She makes me feel off sometimes."
You scoff, crossing your arms. "So why do you talk to her? Too oblivious to see how she fawns over you?"
He groans again, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I'm not oblivious. And that's my job, Y/n. She's part of the dance crew. If I don't talk to her she starts shitting on the group and I really can't deal with another scandal or hate train, okay? I have enough on my mind."
You exhale. "Why didn't you just tell me that?"
"I thought you knew!"
"Well, I didn't," you can't keep the accusatory tone from your voice. "I told you, Chan, all I want is honesty. And if she's that much of a problem, just report it. You have that power over your crew-"
He rolls his eyes. "It doesn't work like that, Y/n. Besides you can't be calling me oblivious when you don't see the way Felix stares at you half the time-"
"What?"
"Just forget it," he scoffs. "Since you're so determined to miss my point."
You exclaim in protest. "I just wanted you to admit that you were-"
He hisses and leans back into the couch, clearly fighting with himself as he interrupts. "Alright, fine! I was wrong. I did something stupid. Okay? Happy?"
"You usually do stupid things anyway," you murmur stubbornly, looking away. It's petty, but it slips out before you can stop it, and strangely, you don't find yourself wanting to take it back.
Chan actually stands up then, running a hand agitatedly through his damp hair. "Y/n, what do you want from me? You want me to admit I was wrong? That I was always around Chae and not you? That I was too scared to come and visit when you were injured? What do you want?"
"I just wanted you to admit to me how you felt!" You cry at him, standing up too, and throw your hands out. "I never wanted any of that! I just wanted the truth about your feelings, about me..." You swipe a hand across your eyes. The backs of your hands come away salty and wet, and you sniff. "But you never listen."
Chan is silent.
His expression is bewildered, upset, the way he looked when you confessed through a haze of tears. Like you're telling him about your feelings for the first time again.
You let out a sob then, the sound bursting out from your chest. It feels ugly, unpleasant, wildly inappropriate for the context of your current situation. But you can't help it, so you screw up your face and cry with your hands at your eyes. A bit like a child.
Chan stands there and lets you cry. He doesn't move to comfort you, reason with your attitude, gently pull your hands from your face like he did so many times before.
He just stands.
You sniff and lower your hands from your face, the room blurry through your misery.
"I thought, that just maybe, you would finally feel the same after all this time, that you would realise feelings the way I did about you." You sniff again. "But you don't."
His mouth is slightly open, like he was moving to say something, but he shuts it again, expression hardening. You blink up at him, vulnerable, exposed, feeling utterly wretched.
He stares down at you, pale and strained, like he's holding himself back from saying something. The way a person who desperately wants to argue, explain, might look at someone who's just sharply told them to shut up.
A strange look takes over his face. Like he can't decide what expression he wants to make. You watch the transition, watch the warmth and softness leave his gaze. Eventually, his features settle, firm and fixed and void.
The lamp does nothing to soften the harsh edges of his words. "You're right, Y/n." His tone has gone numb, uttering out a dark, resigned finality into the lamplight. It's strangely peaceful. "I never felt the same way. I don't believe I ever will."
There's a cold whirl of air, a scuffle, and you flinch as the door then slams shut. Cold, frosty air from outside swirls around the living room.
Unable to process anything, your gaze wanders numbly to the table.
The items he set out on the table earlier are still there, save for his phone, wallet, and keys. His shoes by the door are gone. You let your eyes drift wordlessly to the couch, where Chan had been sitting not even five minutes before. Outside, the rain continues to thunder down relentlessly.
He never even bothered to take his jacket.
a/n: i don't feel like writing a part 4 tbh i just wanna be lazy (can someone else write it please :3 )
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Inspired by 'relight me' so feel free to skip if it's too similar! request for a 9th member sitting down the guys/or just channie if you prefer, to ask for their support/help bc she feels herself slipping back into unhealthy habits/scared to eat/feeling so icky about it, angsty angsty but they're so proud she's asking for help
hihi~ similar request to 'relight me' but just channie and reader hehe . i liked the idea of this one too . you are loved, everyone x
pairing: bang chan x 9th member!reader
summary: you decide to tell chan about what you've been going through. his reaction isn't what you expected...
genre: super soft, really angsty, idol!au, soft channie, mentions of ed, not being able to eat, drinking water in place of food, reader is brave for opening up, chaotic binnie, hannie, and minho, mentions of eating, drinking, lighthearted stabbing joke (no skz was harmed in the making of this fic)
a/n: this is pretty much 'relight me' in a different font . div by @strangergraphics
skz masterlist
"Minho, eat your food."
"I am."
"No, you're not. Stop stabbing Jisung with your chopsticks and eat quickly. We have a dance practice to get to."
Minho groans and slouches over the table, mimicking Changbin's voice in an extremely overexaggerated, high-pitched drawl. "We have a dance practice to get to."
"Shut up."
Jisung laughs as Changbin throws a tissue at Minho, who retaliates and lifts his water bottle, threatening. "Calm down, seriously..."
You're watching as the three of them bicker from the other side of the table, head leaning on your crossed arms. Normally, you'd be the first to initiate these sorts of petty, playful arguments, but you're weighed down by a heavy, drooping tiredness. And it's not letting you do anything.
At all.
"Aren't you gonna eat, Y/n?" Jisung asks, peering around Changbin (who is currently attempting to headlock Minho). "You haven't eaten at all today."
You sigh and sit up, downing the contents of your waterbottle. Ice fills your stomach, freezing its soft lining. You feel stiff.
"I'll eat later," you say. "Promise."
You cross your fingers under the table. Jisung shrugs and looks away, wolfing down the rest of his food. Minho and Changbin, seemingly blind to the interaction, eventually pipe down and do the same.
You sigh and watch as Minho shamelessly stuffs his face, and the sight makes you smile as Jisung and Changbin do the same. At least they're eating properly. But it quickly fades, and you snap out of your thoughts just as Changbin pokes your side.
"...Hey, Y/n. You're not listening."
"O-oh," you stutter. "Sorry."
"Why did you zone out? You always listen to me," he whines.
You always listen to me.
The phrase sparks a dangerous idea in your head. It's so immediately distracting that you stand up, scraping your chair across the floor. Minho and Jisung both look up in surprise at the sudden movement.
"Where are you going?" Minho asks curiously.
"I gotta go," you say, and promptly turn away to leave.
The three members stare after you in confusion.
.
You knock on the door to Chan's studio. The hallway leading to his door is dark, and you trail a hand along the wall as you wait for the call to come in.
There's shuffling, a thump, and then the padding of footsteps as Chan comes and then opens the door. His hair is wild, half of it skewed from his headphones. One of the muffs is placed over the back of his ear so he can hear without taking them off entirely.
"Hey," he greets, unruffled by his very-much-ruffled appearance.
"Hi," you say, suddenly feeling vulnerable.
Chan pauses. "Everything okay?"
You pause for a split second, mind whirring. Why are you here, anyway?
"Um..." you begin feebly, trying to compose a singular thought.
There's a a few seconds of quiet between the both of you before Chan takes your hand gently. You exhale, knowing that he knows something's wrong.
Leading you inside the studio, he sits you down on the black couch behind his desk, taking off his headphones entirely. The cold water from earlier sloshes unpleasantly inside your stomach, doing nothing to quieten the hunger pangs gnawing at your insides. Like filling up a bathtub without the plug in, it can never truly be full.
And neither can you.
You watch as Chan begins to click on files at his desk, dragging and dropping and typing things quickly before he closes down the software entirely. You rise from your seat on the couch, suddenly feeling guilty.
"Chan-"
"Sit." He pushes you back down gently with nothing more than a flick of his wrist. You sigh and try and relax into the cushions, but it's like trying to untense limbs made of rock. You shift uncomfortably as Chan turns around.
He's so much taller right now as you're sitting down; the blue glare of his screen dims slightly as the computer goes to sleep, sending a warm halo of light over the fluffiness of his unbrushed curls.
You gulp as he sits down next to you, sliding down on the couch slightly as he tilts his head to look at the panelled ceiling. The lights up there are off; the only source of illumination comes from a small table lamp in the corner.
"Something's wrong, hmm."
He says it not like a question at all; rather than something he already knows, and he's waiting for you to confirm it.
So you do.
"Yeah." You can't stop fidgeting.
A gentle smile caresses his lips, his gaze still locked on the ceiling. "Are you going to tell me what it is?"
You exhale, a low whoosh from your very core. You're in it now.
"I- I can't eat." Your voice sounds thin, dissipating as soon as the words leave your mouth.
Chan is still looking up, but he's silent for a moment. "When was the last time you ate a full meal?"
You can't answer.
He does look at you then; for the first time you see the true softness of his gaze, the way it seems to reach out and caress your jaw. Your cheeks warm from its steady intensity.
"Don't be ashamed, Y/n," is all he says.
You can feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you will them away. You don't want to cry in front of him.
"But I am," you say, almost inaudibly. "There's- there's something wrong with me, Chan, and I can't-"
"Hey, hey," He sits up and cups your face, heat flooding into your skin. His palms are warm and dry, slightly rough, but you relish the touch anyway. "There's nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing at all. Sometimes we just forget how much we're worth, and our habits follow."
You sniff. "I don't have a worth."
"Yes, you do." He scoots closer on the couch, folding you into his arms. "You always have had a worth, and you'll continue to have it. Sometimes you just forget it. And that's completely okay..."
You lean into his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut. "Chan..."
He continues. "See it like this," he reaches across, letting go of you slightly, and pulls the table lamp closer to him. "Tell me what you see."
You sniff again, feeling a little stupid. "A lamp."
Chan nods. "What's inside the lamp?"
"A light bulb."
He hums and reaches across to the powerpoint, trailing his fingers down the wire til they meet the plug. He rips it out of the socket, the light flickering and dying. The room dims, so much so that you can only just see the outline of Chan's hands around the cord. "Now what do you see?"
You look at him, confused through your misery. "It's still a lamp."
"And what's inside it?"
"A- a light bulb?"
Chan nods simply and sets the lamp down on the floor in front of you, still holding the cord in one hand. "No matter how we change the lamp, no matter what shape, size, colour, or texture it is, the light bulb inside remains the same.
"Even if we damage it, or forget to take care of it," he turns to you then. "I've had this lamp for three years, and I've knocked it over countless times, spilled coffee over it, scratched it, done all sorts of damage to this thing."
You can't fight a tiny smile. He really is clumsy.
"Nevertheless," Chan continues, "It's still working. It's still shining and bringing light to this room, to me. And, like I said, no matter the damage, no matter how the outside changes..." He reaches over to the powerpoint again and plugs the cord back in. Warm light floods the room once more. "The same light keeps shining."
You don't even realise how wet your cheeks are until he swipes a gentle thumb across your face. "Even if the light turns off, it's still there. Sometimes, Y/n, we just need someone to help us bring our light back."
He wraps his arms around you. "It's okay if you can't eat. You don't have to force yourself overnight. Just take it step by step. Snack a little. Have sliced fruit. Keep hydrated, and take breaks during practices. You'll find that eating comes normally once your body's system realises that's what's missing. It's nothing to do with your worth."
You sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," he says simply. His voice is solid, steady, as warm as the light emanating from the lamp. The oversized hoodie draped over his torso is pillowy against your wet cheeks.
Chan is still talking softly, and both of you know that you don't have to listen. All you need to do is bask in the glow of the light and his comfort. You can feel the soft, deep vibrations of his voice from within his chest, along with the steady pulsing of his heart.
You close your eyes, and relax.
a/n: man it's been so long since i wrote something (it's been a week)
ttokki's taglist: @emilyywhyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000
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pairing: best friend!bang chan x reader
summary: after a nasty scare, you talk to felix and hyunjin about what happened. the distance between you and chan grows, until...
genre: angsty angsty, idol!au, mentions of hospital, blood, cuts, bruises, no graphic descriptions, mentions of needles (blood withdrawals), mentions of food and drink, han and jeongin want to be medical professionals, seungmin is far too honest (he loves them really), chan loses his shit, i'm not sorry for the ending :]
a/n: the long-awaited part of 'stupidly perfect'! everyone cheer . div by @ferretmilkshakezzz
skz masterlist | skz prompt list | part one here
The room is cold; it's the kind of cold that you only experience in hospital. That starched-white, stiff, sterilized cold that seems to sink into every fibre of your being, turning it to ice, until all you can do is sink further into the pristine sheets, trying to find some semblance of warmth.
Warmth.
It reminds you of Chan all over again; the pining, the admiring, the restaurant, Chae. Crying in the bathroom. Confessing. The car.
It's been two days since the accident; your cuts and scrapes are beginning to scab over, but you're still not allowed to leave. They woke you in the hospital in a daze, took one look at your battered body, and that was that. One week of staying in hospital, then they'll see what they can do about letting you go home.
You sigh. Turning onto your side with some difficulty, you survey the familiar white blandness of the room.
It's empty enough; the door in the corner has a pane of frosted glass over it, and a couple of switches by the frame. There's a white table and two chairs placed near the wide window, and the monitors surrounding your bed are a sterile light grey, beeping and flashing.
White, white, white.
Huffing and turning to your left to look out the window instead, you find a slightly more interesting sight; raindrops slide down the glass in a constant, heavy drizzle, and you can just make out the tall, surroundings buildings nearby. The sky is grey, and you think then that maybe the world really has lost its colour. It only felt that way at first; now you can't help but wonder if your world is turning to greyscale, void of colour and life and love.
There's a knock on the door and you're sluggishly dragged out of your misery. Pressing a button by your bedside to let whoever it is in, you sit up a little as a nurse enters the room.
"Hello," she says softly. "Feeling any better?"
You shake your head, and try to offer a smile, but it doesn't work.
"Poor you," she replies quietly. "Anything to eat, maybe? A drink of water?"
"No, thank you," you whisper, exhausted.
She nods, adjusting the hem of her ironed top, and then moves to draw the blinds down. Just enough to dim the room slightly and still let you look out the window.
"You have a visitor," the nurse says softly. "Are you feeling well enough to see them, or should I tell them to come some other time?"
You sit up a little straighter then, heart beginning to throb unpleasantly in your chest. "I, um.. Let them in."
She nods and leaves, and you can hear her softly speaking to someone in the corridor. There's a little bit of shuffling, and then a familiar face pokes its nose into the room.
"Felix," you say, relieved.
He shuts the door with far more care than he ought to, and the comical sight makes your heart twinge. You didn't even realise how much you missed him, too caught up in your own head to acknowledge the Felix-shaped hole in your heart.
He drags a chair from the table over to the bedside and flops down, depositing his bag onto the floor. You inhale deeply; a fresh wave of sweet-smelling cologne fills your senses, immediately reinvigorating. The air feels light and tangy.
"How have you been?" Felix says quietly. "Heard it was nasty."
You sit up with some difficulty, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in your joints. "Yeah, I'm okay. I guess. Could've been worse."
Quiet. Then-
"He's torn to pieces about it," he says even quieter. "Chan."
You sigh and look down at your bruised hands, fiddling over the starched sheets. "Oh."
"Yeah."
Biting the inside of your cheek, you slide down a little against the pillow. "Is- is he okay? Like..."
Felix sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. Leaning back on the chair, he toes his boots off and places his socked feet on the bed, crossing his legs over one another. You crack a tiny smile at the casual gesture.
"He hasn't been talking much," he muses. "Kind of just stays in his room most of the time. He stopped talking to Chae as well. He felt so guilty."
You groan. "I didn't try to make him feel guilty. I just wanted to tell him how I felt all this time... and I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been so upset about what happened at the restaurant."
"I know."
"He didn't have to cut Chae off because of it... I kinda wanted them to stop talking, but I didn't want that to happen..."
"I know."
"And now I messed up and I'm stuck in hospital all cut and bruised because I couldn't fucking look both ways before I crossed the road-"
"I know."
You slap him half-heartedly on the shoulder. "Is that all you're going to say?"
He runs a hand through his dark locks again. "Nah. By the way, I'm sorry I didn't come sooner to see you. I figured you'd want some time to rest and heal."
You sigh. "It's okay. I just- Everything is a mess right now."
"Messes can be cleaned."
You sigh and shift against the uncomfortable firm mattress. "Lix?"
He tilts his head. "Yeah?"
"I'm really glad you came to see me."
Felix is silent. Then, he stands and leans against the glass of the window, looking down thoughtfully to the streets below.
You get out of bed with some difficulty and join him, letting your forehead rest on the cold, cool glass. You're not bothered that he isn't replying to your sentiment; sometimes, people say the most when they speak no words at all.
Both of you are aware that the glass could break at any moment and send you both hurtling to the ground, but you don't move and neither does Felix, still looking down onto the street far, far below.
All you can hear is his soft breathing, the muted sounds of city life rumbling seemingly right under your feet, and the occasional soft footsteps of a nurse outside the door.
"Are you gonna talk to him?" Felix says. "About it all."
It's a vague enough question; strangely, you feel your heart flutter. Talking to Chan after getting out of hospital seems like such a faraway event. Like it's something that you don't need to worry about for the next few years, so distant.
That is not true.
"I'm gonna have to face him at some point," you say, sighing in resignation. "Should I wait for him to find me first? It might be less awkward..."
Felix lets out a little laugh, drawing a circle on the glass with his fingertip. "It's gonna be awkward either way."
You sigh and look down at the streets below. It seems so peaceful up here, yet you can see the faint, faraway tell-tale gathering of dark clouds on the horizon.
He's right.
.
"So," Yuna exhales, pulling your bag inside the door. "Do you want me to pick up anything from the grocery store for you?"
You think about this question as you set your waterbottle down on the counter. It's so good to finally be back home. Yuna, one of your work friends, called and asked if you wanted help getting set up back at home, and you had readily and gratefully agreed.
"Um.. I need more milk and..." You open the fridge, then the pantry, to inspect what needs replacing. "...And some ramen."
Yuna scoffs. "Y/n, you are not living off ramen. You just got out of a week in hospital... do you want to send yourself back in from an MSG overdose?"
You laugh, your healing ribs hurting at the action, and unzip your bag. "Okay, fine. I'll ask Felix if he can spare me anything. The boys said they'd drop off a few things for me too."
She brings you in carefully for a hug, and you wrap your arms around her frame. She smells so nice, and not for the first time do you deeply relish the warmth of someone's arms around your body. There's something about physical affection that is just so comforting.
Especially after so long in hospital.
Felix had dutifully come to visit you every day, each time bringing a couple of the members. It had been a welcome distraction from the fading novelty of being hospitalised and the injuries you sustained, but after Han and Jeongin asked the nurses to have a go at giving you a blood withdrawal, Felix had hurried them out of the room.
Not that they minded.
Then there was Seungmin, coolly making jokes about turning off your life support (you weren't even in intensive care), and Lee Know, who had smuggled Dori into his bag to bring to you.
"Dori will kiss it better," he had said seriously (Dori bit you).
Hyunjin spent most of his time sketching and painting over your bandages; it was a welcome gesture from the stark white you'd gotten so used to seeing in the hospital. Even Changbin had taken time off his busy schedule to see you, often coming into the room fresh from the gym or a dance practice.
But no Chan.
Each time they entered, you'd look up in anticipation and barely veiled hope, but it was always wasted. He never showed. Felix told you they'd been trying to persuade him to come and see you, but Chan had refused and shut down. You were a little disappointed and partially relieved at this revelation.
You glance down at the bandages wrapping your forearms now; not exactly a cast, but not a simple wrap either. It's slightly stiff, and you smile at the multitude of silly signatures and drawings that the members and some of your friends had peppered the surface with.
Looking around your living room and then casting a glass-eyed gaze over the kitchen, you inhale deeply. It feels strange to be here. The place is well-worn, lived in, but it feels like you've walked into someone else's home and stood in the middle of the room. It doesn't feel like you live here at all.
Oh well, you think. Time to get settled.
.
And settle you do; by the time the clock hits seven, you're curled up on the couch with a blanket, a bowl of hot soup (courtesy of Lee Know), and a good tv show.
You've turned the lights off and put the lamps on instead; you swear if you see one more bright light you might literally lose your mind.
The dim, golden glow is comforting; it makes you feel warm, and along with the effects of Lee Know's soup, the fluffy blanket, and the light pitter-patter of rain on the window outside, you begin to feel very sleepy. The show you've put on in the background drones on faintly, and for a moment, you revel in the quiet.
Until the doorbell rings.
You groan and heave yourself up from the couch. Standing up, you pause for a few seconds to see if whoever it is will give up and decide to go away.
They don't. The doorbell rings again.
Yawning, you make your way to the door and unlock it, coming face-to-face with none other than Hwang Hyunjin.
"Hyune," you say, surprised.
"Hey," he grins sheepishly, running a hand through his buzzed hair. "Can I come in?"
You step aside and shut the door as he takes his shoes off, shrugging off his rain-spotted jacket. Wordlessly, you sit back down on the couch and gesture for him to do the same. He does.
"How have you been?" You ask him quietly, trying to drape the blanket over yourself once again.
Hyunjin reaches across and tucks the blanket in for you. "I should be the one asking that, don't you think?"
You shrug.
He sighs, leaning back against the couch, and tucks his socked feet up underneath him. "I'm okay."
"Just okay?"
He shifts uncomfortably, like there's something wrong with his insides. "I, um... Have you talked to Chan yet? Has he talked to you since..."
You shake your head. "Why? Aside from the obvious."
Hyunjin exhales. "He's lost his shit."
"What?"
He sits up a little further, repeating himself. "He's lost his shit. He's just- not himself."
You sigh and relax against the cushions, not knowing what to say. You feel a little bit bad, but your stubbornness tells you that Chan should be the one to reach out again first if he's so upset about it.
You tell Hyunjin that, but he just shakes his head.
"One of you is going to have to take the first step to fix this," he says. "How do you feel about it, though?"
"Considering it was my own fault for not looking both ways, and my fault for setting off the whole thing... it still stings."
He nods understandingly. "I figured you might wanna talk about it a little, if Felix hasn't done that already. That's why I came."
You shake your head. "We talked about it a little, but I guess he was mostly there to distract me."
Hyunjin chuckles. "He's good at it too."
You nod. There's silence.
"So you're in love with Chan," he says finally.
Hearing it being said out loud is strange. Like something surreal floating in the air. Not a truth that you've kept buried for so long. Well, not anymore, at least.
Hyunjin's voice snaps you out of your daze. "Do you still love him? You know, after all of this."
You sigh and cast your gaze on the golden light emitting from a nearby lamp. "I don't know. I guess. But it doesn't matter if he doesn't feel the same way."
"Maybe he does," he says earnestly. His skin is honeyed in the dimness of the room.
"He's far too busy for it anyway," you say. You hate the way it sounds like you're unsure. Like you're trying to convince yourself that you're not in love with your best friend.
Hyunjin seems to pick up on this, because he scoots a little closer, stroking a couple of fingers along your blanketed knee. "Even if he doesn't feel the same way, Y/n, it doesn't mean you can't still work it out. You two were inseparable-"
"Yeah, until Chae came along."
"Was she really the reason?"
You sigh and turn to face him, shifting on the couch. "If he really loved me, he would have made an effort to talk to me despite Chae. Like I did. I did everything I could to see him as often as possible," you sigh. "But he didn't do the same thing."
"Maybe he was too afraid to ruin what you both have," Hyunjin says diplomatically.
You scoff. "Well, he shouldn't have worried, because I ruined it for both of us."
He sighs and touches your hand lightly. "Talk to him. We've been trying to convince him to come and see you-"
"No," you say, panicked. "Don't do that."
"Y/n, just- How are you both supposed to work this out if you keep avoiding each other?"
You groan and lean your head on his shoulder. "I don't know. And I want to fix this, Hyune, but I can't face him and have him tell me he doesn't feel the same way. It's better like this."
"Is is worth losing him to preserve your feelings?"
Silence.
"I don't know," you finally admit, voice quiet.
The lamp flickers.
.
In the morning, you wake up sprawled on the couch, the blanket tucked up neatly under your chin. You glance across at the coffee table; your bowl isn't there anymore, and the TV is off. Hyunjin is gone.
Sitting up, you notice the bowl in the sink, and a small bag of something, probably food, on the counter. Thanking your stars that you have good friends, you stand up and stretch.
Your strength is almost fully replenished, and your cuts and bruises have gone from angry reds and pinks to faded purples and browns. They don't hurt as much anymore, and it's easier to move around, so you decide to get some housework done after eating.
The weather outside is still grey and stormy; it rains hard for the first part of the morning. You've woken up quite late, but the sleep must have done you good, because by the time afternoon hits, you've cleaned up your place quite well.
Your phone buzzes, then again, and again; it's the SKZ groupchat, and you smile at the multitude of welcome-home messages flooding in from the guys. Your cheeks warm.
Hanji Quokka ๐ฅ: WELCOME HOMEE Y/NNNNN Kiwi ๐ฅ: Hope you slept well. Seungie ๐ถ: Don't do that again. Thought you were gonna die. We all got excited for a minute. Lixie Pixie ๐ซ: SEUNGMIN Strong Guy ๐: SEUNGMIN Lee Doesn't Know ๐: SEUNGMIN
You roll your eyes and your finger moves to press the button to turn your phone off, fighting a smile. Their affection, however chaotic, makes a twinge of warmth settle comfortably in your stomach.
Your phone buzzes again, and you open your messages to see a text from Hyunjin.
Hyune: Feeling any better? Y/n: Yes. Thank you. For last night as well... I didn't even hear you leave. Hyune: Probably a good thing. I reckon you needed the rest. Y/n: Yeah. Hyune: Can I come over tonight? Y/n: Of course.
You turn your phone off then. It seems a little strange, that he sent you a private text rather than just asking how you were in the group chat. But you shrug it off, and decide to continue cleaning up.
You don't notice how dark it's beginning to get; wiping the minimal sweat from your forehead, you quickly run upstairs to change into a fresh set of clothes and wash up.
Hyunjin said he'd come round the same time as yesterday, so you turn all the lights off and put the lamps on again. You like the honeyed wash it coats everything in, softening all harsh corners and edges and covering them in that familiar, golden glow. Warmth emits from their bulbs.
You're about to plop down on the couch and dissociate for a while, or at least until Hyunjin comes over, but the doorbell interrupts your motions.
Huh. That was quick.
It's raining outside again, you notice as you make your way to the door. The comforting pitter-patter fills your senses as your fingertips touch the cold metal of the door handle.
You undo the latch and pull the door open. You expect to see Hyunjin, drops of water clinging to his jacket, a sheepish grin stretched handsomely across his elegant features.
But it's not.
"Chan," you whisper.
a/n: ohohohooo reader is cooked (i think. i haven't decided what the third part will be about. anyways.)
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby
send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !
pairing: protective!ot8!skz x maknae!9th member reader
summary: how skz would be protective of their maknae (that's you!)
genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, maknae line being super sweet and supportive, mentions of acne, scars, uhh spiders? bugs in general, seungmin villain era, felix is passive aggressive (there's a valid reason i promise)
a/n: divider by @mikeykuns . also taglist is open for anyone who wants to join !
skz masterlist | hyung line
Han who watches out of the corner of his eye as your stylist sits you down in your usual chair before the show, and begins sticking stickers all over your face. When you bat their hand away, they tell you it's because of your scars and acne that's been happening recently, and Han can't fight the sudden, unexpected anger that rises up inside of his chest as he watches you sink down into the chair and go silent. Definitely gets up and puts a few of the same stickers on his own face so as not to draw attention to yours, and gently peels off a few of them on your face, telling you that you look stunning whether there are blemishes on your face or not. Spends the rest of pre-concert prep sticking stickers onto the members' butts to try and cheer you up (it works).
Felix who goes live after you received hate for your outfit at their latest concert, passive-aggressively mentioning the event and glaring through the camera. Comments flood the screen but he couldn't care less; he just doesn't see the point of hating on someone so unnecessarily for something that wasn't even their fault. Doesn't look up as you appear at the door, silently watching him chide the 'Stays' who threw hateful comments at you as you left the venue after the performance. Bravely sticks up for you despite the many repercussions it could have, and lets you sit under his desk while he changes the subject, talking to Stay through the camera about various other things. Strokes your hair and lets you rest your head on his knee, relishing his comforting warmth.
Seungmin who talks far more than usual during a certain episode of a variety show; he's watching you being pushed towards a small container, with some sort of spider or bug inside. You've mentioned to him before that that sort of thing really freaks you out, and he can see the visible distress on your face as you're forced to pick the insect up, flinching and tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Tries to draw the hosts' attention away from you so you can put the unpleasant insect down, and messes about and knocks things over to keep them occupied while you collect yourself. And, if he's feeling particularly mean (which he is) the hosts might find themselves dealing with a few creepy crawlies in their dressing room later. But it's nothing to do with him, he didn't do anything.... (yes he did).
Jeongin who quickly covers you during a performance when your voice cracks or goes unstable, not even looking at you so people don't catch onto the mistake. Even adds a few notes onto the song to draw attention away from you, and winks at you as he slides into his position for the second part of the routine, effortlessly covering the part you've missed due to the slip-up. He knows how it feels, to feel like you ruined a performance for the whole group, so he sticks with you after the show as well, holding your hand, and talking to you constantly and quietly to keep your mind off of the mistake. Even messes about with his hyungs to make you laugh (though he's terrified of what Minho might do to him later), but it's worth it to see you smile, always.
a/n: yayy second part . just keeping you guys fed <3 keep an eye out for the second part of 'stupidly perfect' (chan x reader)!
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585
send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !
Hi Ttokki! ๐ I just wanted to ask if you could possibly write some short scenarios of Stray Kids being protective over their ninth member!maknae!reader? ๐
Here are some ideas: a staff member is rude/impatient with the reader for no reason; a fan is being weird (getting too close, saying uncomfortable things, asking weird things); the reader receives hate for something stupid (sweating, being "too" comfortable/close with the members, having a scar, acne, whatever); during a variety show, the reader is forced to face a phobia and even almost cries (snakes, spiders, insects, etc); because of some pain or uncomfortable outfit, the reader's vocals are unstable during a performance and people hate on it.
I know there are many ideas... you of course don't need to use them if you don't wanna. Or even do this request at all. ๐ Either way, I hope your life is full of happiness! ๐ซถ
hii !! thank you for the request, anon <3 i think i might make this two parts lol . . . it might have gotten a bit long otherwise . i'll use the rest of your ideas in the maknaes' part . here you gooo~
pairing: protective!ot8!skz x maknae!9th member reader
summary: how skz would be protective of their maknae (that's you!)
genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, just hyung line being super sweet and protective, chan being intimidating asf, hyunjin being super cheeky but that's just who he is lmao (we love him really)
a/n: divider by @mikeykuns . also taglist is open for anyone who wants to join !
skz masterlist
Chan who firmly chides a staff member who's getting a little too riled up over a small mistake that you made during filming. He picks up the camera stand that you accidentally knocked over and guides you away, a hand on your back. Whispers a little joke to you and tries to make you smile in a bid to make you forget about being told off. Needless to say, that certain staff member seems to disappear when Chan is around you from then on, and you ask him if he did something to make that happen. He just looks away and suddenly changes the subject, and then later on, you notice that the staff member who kept telling you off is suddenly nowhere to be seen. Their belongings are gone from the desk and you're glad to see them gone, and you catch Chan smirking to himself as he shuts their empty office door.
Minho who glowers at a fan who's being just a little too flirty; he's sitting next to you for the fanmeeting, and there's a fluffy headband sitting on the crown of his head. It doesn't stop him from responding effortlessly to him own fan, but his hands tighten around the gifts in front of him as the creepy fan in front of you begins to inch a little closer over the table, reaching for your hands. As the fan doesn't notice his attempts to intimidate, he knocks over a bottle of water, spilling a long, thin stream of it over your side of the table, effectively creating a water line between you and the fan, and making said fan jump back in shock, complaining over soaked sleeves. Minho just winks at you and pokes your knee, muttering a rather vile phrase and making you giggle as the fan storms out.
Changbin who watches you trip over on stage as you walk up to begin your part of the song; your mic clatters to the floor and the entire audience holds their breath as you scramble to pick it up, cheeks scarlet from embarrassment. Your energy is dimmed for the rest of the performance, and you can practically feel the judging, disapproving stares of everyone in the crowd. That is, until you hear another clatter from in front of you, and realise that Changbin has dropped his mic too, leaning down to pick it up with a cheeky grin as he jumps back into place. Your heart rises, the weight lifted off of it as he shoots you a wink, reassuring and reckless. The murmurs get louder but now you couldn't care less, leaning down to whisper a thankyou to him as the choreo brings you closer to him. Later, his face will be proudly tinged with pink as you all walk off the stage.
Hyunjin who quickly changes the subject during an interview that's getting a little too personal, and leans down to put a hand on your shoulder as the interviewer starts getting a little too close. Interjects with loud laughing and funny skits to keep the attention off you, and his gaze is slightly maniacal as he eyes the interviewer, squeezing your shoulder before pulling away so the cameras don't pick it up. Is so smooth with it that you begin to feel more comfortable throughout the interview and you even become confident enough to question the interviewer himself, who stutters and changes the subject. Hyunjin watches on proudly and definitely reports the guy afterwards for harassment, and even sits through a scolding from a staff member about being polite to the reporters and interviewers. He couldn't care less, if he was being honest, and fights a cheeky, rebellious smile as he's dismissed from the room.
a/n: yay first post with my new taglist~ send me a dm, ask, or comment under the taglist post to be added !
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever
omgomg can you please write a 9th member fic (chan x f!reader) where they attend the milan show together (the one chan is at rn) ๐ฅน๐ซถ
hihi sorry this took a while to answer >< it's here now tho . i liked this idea so much, i haven't written much fashion event stuff ! maybe i added a little surprise near the end, but you'll just have to see hehe . here you gooo~
pairing: bangchan x female 9th member reader
summary: chan asks you to accompany him to the fendi event in milan.
genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, super duper fluffy and cute, sleepy channie, mentions of eating and drinking, swarming from fans, lots of mentions of camera flashes, chan almost falling over (yes that is a warning)
a/n: yuhh i'm so back guys ! div by @elleisdesigning
skz masterlist
Chan who surprises you with the biggest bouquet of your favourite flowers as he hands you the invitation to the Fendi show in Milan. Who flushes as you look up in shock and shyly explains that he wants you to be his plus-one to the event. He lets out an 'oof' as you fly into his arms, almost knocking him over and nodding over and over again to accompany him to Milan. He grins again in relief as you explain that you don't have anything half as fancy to wear and pokes your cheek, telling you that your outfit isn't something you should be worried about, and that he would handle all of it. You're unconvinced but decide to trust him anyway, and coincidentally, later in the day, he asks what your favourite colour is.
Chan who holds your hand all the way to the airport and refuses to let go, even when you're all swarmed by the photographers and fans. His leader-mode kicks in and he protects you from the swarms as you navigate through the airport. His grip is strong, warm, and steady, and he leads you skillfully through the throngs of people pressing in on both of you until you reach the terminal gate. Makes you go first and presses a warm hand to your back as he guides you down the ramp. Refuses to sit down until you've found your seat and then offers to swap places with you so you can have the window seat. He spends about half an hour gazing out at the ground falling away beneath you and then immediately falls asleep, his mouth open and hair endearingly ruffled as the plane vibrates all around you, rising higher and higher in the air.
Chan who wakes up sleepily when the plane lands and accidentally stands up too soon, almost ending up sprawled in the aisle as the plane bumps against the tarmac. He guides you through the mess of cameras and flashes and falls asleep again in the car on the way to the hotel you'll both be staying in. You wake him up and watch him drain a bottle of water as you step out of the car, heading into the lift and up to your shared hotel room. You watch him bustle around the room, making phone calls and arranging food to be delivered, and then nuzzle into his shoulder as he sits down on the bed next to you, coiling an arm around your shoulders as you both watch the city bustling with life from outside the window.
Chan who offers you his hand as he steps out of the car, letting you take his arm as you both make your way inside the stylist's room that's been temporarily set up for the event, and fights a grin as you look around in curiosity and ask what you're doing here. He leads you to a curtain and pulls it back, nodding thankfully at the designer, and jumps when he hears you gasp and then squeal in delight. Your hands trace the beautiful, flowing fabric of the gown and you throw your arms around the leader, not caring who sees. His face is tinged pink as you run over to the mannequin once more and fawn over the dress he's had custom-made for you for the event. It's sparkly and subtle and just the right colour, and you hold back another squeal as you realise, this is why Chan asked your favourite colour a few days earlier. Not that he didn't already know what it was...
Chan who presses a hand gently onto your knee as the car pulls up to the carpet leading into the Fendi event. His gaze is reassuring and a little of the subtle sparkle on your cheeks come away on the curve of his fingers as he brushes a strand of hair off your face, promising that you'll do great. Not that the sparkle on his hands makes a difference; he looks stunning as always, and whispers the same thing back to you as he offers you his arm. You close your eyes briefly against the camera flash and step out of the car, letting him lead you inside. He stays with you and gracefully walks you around, greeting people, introducing you, and mingling with the crowd. As expected, he is a hit; unexpectedly, so are you. You're entirely comfortable in just an hour, and you even receive some lovely compliments on your appearance at the event.
Chan who secretly strokes your hand with a gentle thumb as both of you stand and pose for the cameras; he keeps your intertwined fingers behind the both of you, his smile warm and genuine as photos are snapped endlessly. The subtle, secret yet possessive gesture makes your heart flutter and you fight a laugh as he whispers jokes and comments to you in an attempt to make you smile harder than you are. He succeeds, and the result is a beautiful photo of the both of you on the cover of several fashion articles and websites, who all sing your shared praises, gushing over your outfits and potential chemistry (the members, who have been keeping updated on the event, cheekily start planning your eventual wedding).
Chan who's glad he brought you along; he's never seen his ninth member and secret crush looking so stunning and effortless. He thanks his stars for the rest of the night as he remembers the courage it took to ask you to accompany him to the event. He's never been prouder of you, and later, when the event ends, he takes you out on a walk, both of you licking at ice creams in the warmly-lit streets and talking about the day. His heart is fluttering as he wipes a little of ice cream off your lips and presses his mouth to yours, sweet treats forgotten as you melt immediately into his embrace, relishing the warmth and steady comfort he always manages to exude.
He couldn't be happier.
a/n: i'm thinking of starting a fic taglist, the post for it will be up soon ><
oh my god Iโm stupid I requested 8, 9, and 39 for the SKZ prompt list but I forgot to ask for which member. Bangchan pretty please ๐ฅบ๐๐
hihi this took so long sorry >< . . . this is a lot more angsty than anticipated but i hope it works. i wrote it a little differently that i normally would, but here you go, love~~
pairing: best friend!bang chan x reader
summary: chan has never noticed how you feel for him, and one fateful evening, you let it all spill.
genre: angsty as hell, idol!au, reader lowkey enters their villain era, mentions of eating and drinking, overexcited maknaes, chan is kinda oblivious in this fic ngl, supportive felix, itzy mentions (yeji, ryujin, chaeryoung if that counts ig), this is super sad tbh
a/n: this took a while tbh . . . div by @ferretmilkshakezzz
โ๏ธ prompts: 8. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere." / 9. "You can rest now." / 39. "I can't keep pretending I'm fine."
skz masterlist | skz prompt list | part two
"Y/n, do you wanna come to that ramen restaurant with us later?" Jisung tugs at your arm, skipping alongside you. "We've been wanting to go for ages, and we all finally have schedules off tonight."
"Yeah, come with us," Jeongin adds. "It'll be fun."
The maknaes are tagging all around you as you walk down the hallway, trying your best to keep a hold on all the papers you're carrying. It's difficult when they're fluttering around you like overexcited birds.
You'd taken the job at JYPE around four months ago; it was decided after a very long period of doubting and worrying that it wouldn't work out after what happened at your last workplace. But your best friend, Chan, had been super supportive throughout the whole thing, even offering to help you move into your little apartment down the road from the company. He'd brought some of his friends to help with the heavy lifting, and from there, you'd pretty much been adopted into the group he'd formed and was the leader of.
Not like you had a choice in the first place.
But you didn't mind; you'd been worried partly because of the fact that you wouldn't have any friends when you'd moved to this part of Korea; Chan had managed to inadvertently solve that issue without trying. Now, the four excitable boys skipped and bickered around you as you set down the papers on your office desk. Wiping the minimal sweat from your forehead, you sighed and pried Seungmin away from the trinkets neatly lining your bookshelf.
"Who else is going?" You ask as Jisung whines about you coming to the restaurant for the umpteenth time.
Seungmin shrugs, interrupting his friend. "All of the members, you, and a couple of the girls from our dance crew."
You feel your heart sink just as your brain tells you to agree; it's been ages since you went out with the guys, and you honestly couldn't wait for a break. Work was always stressful around comeback season, but you'd all settled into the rhythm of it soon enough. Spending an evening out with eight of your best friends eating some soul food sounded like a good idea. A better idea than spending the evening on the couch in your apartment, eating ice cream in complete silence. Alone.
You bite your lip, anticipating. "Which of the dance crew girls?"
Jeongin shrugs from the sofa, swinging his legs over a disgusted Seungmin's lap as he lounges back. "The usuals; Yeji, Ryujin, Young-hee, and Chae. Why?"
"No reason," you say, turning back to the bookshelf to unnecessarily reorganise something, fiddling with the solid fabric spine of one of your books. "I'll let you know if I'm coming. Now, clear out."
Your last comment doesn't bother the maknaes at all; they know you don't like your office being messed up, so they call goodbyes, and Jisung sneakily pokes your side as he filters out the door. Felix, however, remains.
You try to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest and keep a neutral expression as you turn the dark-haired boy. He looks so different from his usual blonde-haired countenance; however, no less beautiful, and not for the first time do you hold yourself back from carding your fingers affectionately through his hair.
You exhale. "Do you need something, Lix?"
He sits down on your chair, swinging it backwards and leaning his forearms across the back. An air of resignation flows around him. "You're not coming tonight, are you?"
You bite your lip. "I'll see."
His voice is quiet. "You've said that since Chae started hanging around us. Is it because of her?"
You scoff, dropping a pen. "No. Why would you think that?"
Felix leans forward on the chair, nosy. "It is because of her, isn't it? Do you not like her? Is it because of Chan-hyung?"
You whip around to face him, exasperated. The explanation bubbles out of you like molten lava from a temperamental volcano. "Okay, fine! I just- I can't stand seeing her around him. They're so close, and they always seem so wrapped up in each other-"
You cut yourself off then, not wanting to say anything you might regret. Chae is nice enough; she's never done anything explicitly hurtful towards you, though you secretly have suspicions that she doesn't like you at all. But you stay quiet, trying to dissipate the rising frustration blooming in your chest.
Felix is quiet.
You know he knows; he's known for ages about your little crush on his leader. You were afraid to tell him, once upon a time; but all you got in response from the affectionate chicken boy was a hushed giggle and a gentle encouragement to tell Chan how you feel. He hasn't told anyone else about your feelings, and you know he would continue to keep his mouth shut. But you wish, even just a little, that someone else would notice and find a way to get Chae away from your best friend.
"No wonder she likes him too," you say quietly to yourself, sinking into your office chair.
And it isn't a wonder, really. Chan is sweet, and gentle, and kind, and so, so, supportive and admirable. There's not a single flaw about him, except perhaps his slight dislike towards himself and his irritation when it comes to those soft, dark curls that frame his perfect face so perfectly-
You shake yourself out of it. Felix is still looking at you quietly, his head tilted in thought.
"You do know," he says carefully, "that you're closer with Chan that Chae is?"
"But still," you groan. "He always seems so much happier around her, and he always only talks to her when you all go out-"
"How would you know?" Felix cries, throwing his hands up. "You're not even there half the time, and Chan only talks to her because you're not there for him to talk to. He has to settle for her because he's fed up of us, and he's not close with Yeji, Ryujin, or Young-hee."
You sigh and hop up onto the desk, swinging your legs over the side. "I just can't stand it, Lix. Seeing them together..."
His expression softens. "I know, Y/n, and I know how frustrated you get when they're all over each other, but you have to at least try. Come with us. If not for him, then for us. We miss you."
"I'm right here."
Felix sighs softly. "That's not what I meant."
You rub two fingers along the bridge of your nose, trying to think straight. You can't get the images out of your mind; Chan and Chae giggling to each other, her touching his arm, him reciprocating the affection... no one said it would hurt this bad when you watch your best friend fall for someone else.
No one said it would hurt this much when you realise that you're in love with said best friend either.
"I can't keep pretending I'm fine," you say, so softly you're not sure Felix hears it. But he does.
"Then don't pretend," he urges gently. "Get him to fall for you. You're halfway there already, I'm pretty sure. But it's not gonna happen if you're always at a distance from him."
He has a point, you think. But, being as stubborn as you are, there's still that nagging doubt in the back of your mind that Chan will never feel the same way that you do, whether you're with him or not-
"Y/n," Felix says, a little more firmly.
You know exactly what he's thinking; sighing, and then bending down to pick up the pen you dropped earlier, you slot it back into the holder on the desk.
"Fine," you say quietly, trying and failing to hide the tiny smile twitching at the corners of your mouth. "I'll come."
Felix lets out a whoop.
.
You pull your jacket a little closer around yourself as you head round the corner, the evening wind whipping your hair into a state of extreme disarray. Sighing and then spluttering as you pull strands of it out of your mouth and eyes, you duck around people and head to the restaurant, its warm, golden light drawing you in like a moth to a flame.
You're not late, so to speak; you spot the group sitting at a large corner booth with comfy seats, mingling and chattering, and you notice Felix immediately. His face lights up when he sees you, half with relief and half with something else you can't quite decipher. He makes to get up before you're almost tackled to the floor by Jisung and Jeongin, who are pretty much hollering at the top of their lungs.
Minho shushes them insistently as he tugs them off you, bowing before shoving both maknaes back into their seats.
"Y/n," Jeongin says happily. "We didn't think you'd come."
You chuckle awkwardly and settle into the spot next to Felix, trying not to look around for Chan like you always do. "Yeah, I needed a break. Besides, you two would have come for my throat if I turned the invitation down one more time."
"Damn right," Jisung interjects, all three of you dissolving into giggles.
You look around then; not everyone is here. Hyunjin and Yeji are still missing, both Hwangs late as per usual, and you know Changbin will come by a little later, having decided to work out before treating himself for the evening. You make a mental note to stick to your work ethic as well as he does, but it's interrupted by the familiar tone of someone speaking your name.
"You look nice, Y/n," Chan says from next to Felix, who is sitting in between both of you.
Chae is sitting next to Chan, you notice with some sadness and displeasure; her long, pinky-blonde hair is straight and neat, long acrylic nails coming up to brush strands of it off her perfect porcelain cheeks, flushed with the cold. At least, you hope it's the cold and not the effect of Chan's probably flirting before you arrived.
Despite the indignance rising in your stomach, you can't help but notice how Chan looks tonight; his hair is slightly damp from the chilly weather outside, the adorably messy strands of it curling against his temples and nape. His eyes are crescents as he gazes into yours, and you fight the urge to reach over and wipe the faint remainder of strawberry milk off the curve of his plush bottom lip.
You know exactly where he'd bought the little drink carton of it from; there's a vending machine just down the street, one that the boys always buy drinks from before eating out. It was their tradition, and one that you gladly partook in, that is before you became too shy to be around the boys.
Because of Chan and his stupid perfectness.
You suddenly come back down to earth and realise that Chan is still gazing at you; Chae is laughing obnoxiously loud in the background behind him, no doubt to recapture his attention, but all you can focus on is the fact that you're locking eyes with the most beautiful person on earth. And also the fact that you haven't replied to his little indirect compliment, so you just nod and turn back to the table to fiddle with the menu in front of you.
Felix exhales discreetly and you fight a grin, watching as he unpeels himself from the corner of the table. He'd been bending over it so you could lean back to talk to Chan, and he pokes you affectionately in the side as you thank him quietly, clearing your throat in an attempt to get rid of the flush painting your cheeks.
"Could've warned me about how pretty he looks," you mutter to Felix under your breath. He just chuckles and touches your knee as everyone begins to order.
The food arrives just as Hyunjin, Yeji, and Changbin make their dramatically late entrance; they clatter noisily into their seats, and you bump fists with Yeji just as everyone begins to dig in.
There's brief silence as everyone begins to fill their stomachs with soul food, and then the chatter eventually rises again as the members turn to each other to bicker and laugh. You almost snort a noodle out of your mouth as you watch Hyunjin take a hairclip out of his bag to clip his hair back, before realising it's not there. Seungmin, sitting next to him, runs his hand through the boy's kiwi-like hair before turning back to his ramen.
You almost start to enjoy yourself, but there's still that lingering tension that you feel rests in the air between you and Chan; if anyone else has noticed it, they're not saying anything. Felix, noticing your quietness, tries to fill the space between you with small talk and jokes, but it doesn't seem to help. Once or twice, he even brings Chan into the conversation in a bid to try and get you two to converse, but Chae interjects more and more frequently until you quietly tell Felix to stop.
You feel bad because of it; you know he's just trying to help, but it isn't working. And it's beginning to make you feel worse, the fact that it seems not even the dark-haired sunshine boy can get his leader to try and talk to you. And you realise, all of a sudden, that maybe it's not Chan that's the problem.
There are two possible reasons that Chan doesn't seem to want to talk to you; you thought maybe he would talk more with you tonight, considering it's been so long since you've been out with them, but you're crestfallen as you realise that not more than a few words have been exchanged between the two of you tonight.
And it strangely breaks your heart.
The other reason is that Chae might have been badmouthing you behind your back to Chan, or it could be because of the fact that Chan genuinely likes her. You're not sure, but that belief is confirmed as you look across to see Chan holding out his chopsticks to her, bringing a piece of tempura to her perfect, pink lips.
Watching in horror and completely forgetting about the cooling ramen in front of you, you watch as Chae accepts the tempura with a little giggle, batting her lashes at Chan as he reaches up to wipe a crumb off her lip. The sight is so equally disgusting and upsetting that you immediately stand up, moving out of the booth as tears blur your eyes.
"Where are you going?" Jisung calls after you, Felix looking up from his food.
"Bathroom," you call over your shoulder, your voice surprisingly strong considering the fact that tears and beginning to stream down your cheeks.
Not wanting to make a fuss or arouse suspicion from the group, you do actually head to the bathrooms, locking the cubicle door behind you and sinking down against the door. You couldn't care less if it's dirty right now, the only thought in your head the mental image of your best friend and Chae giggling and flirting all over each other, blissfully unaware of your misery.
It's not fair.
"Maybe it's me," you whisper to yourself, sniffling as you rip off a piece of toilet paper, scrubbing at your face. You feel so pathetic and unworthy; what kind of person hides out in the bathroom crying over a guy who probably doesn't even care about them?
Standing up and checking you have your phone and wallet, you sigh as you feel the weight of them in your pockets. Good. You can just leave without having to go back to the table. The last thing you want right now is to talk to anyone, or have to put up a fake cheerful front.
Heading to the back of the restaurant, the once-inviting golden lights now feeling like a spotlight, you emerge out into the street, the cold wind soothing the hot, sticky tear irritation on your cheeks. You head to the parking garage down the street and try to walk as quickly as you can past the opening of the ramen restaurant, lest any of the group notice you walking away.
And they don't, not least until you cross the street and head down the dimly light footpath.
Someone grabs your wrist suddenly and you cry out, whipping your head back so fast to see who it is you think you might have whiplash.
Chan is standing there, his hand solid and warm around your wrist, the wind ruffling his dark hair back from his bare face. You can see the glint of his silver earrings under the streetlights.
"Wait," he pants. "Where are you going?"
You can't fight the hot, wet tear rolling down your cheek and inwardly curse it for escaping. "Home."
"Why?" He asks, concern and worry painting his expression. "Are you not feeling well?"
You fight the urge to slap him; it wouldn't be fair, however much you want to do it. He just doesn't understand. He doesn't understand any of it. And you want nothing more to run into his arms and spill all your thoughts and feelings like you have so many times before, but you can't.
Not this time.
You can't tell Chan that you've loved him since who knows how long; that seeing him makes your heart feel lighter, the way a high schooler might feel seeing their crush in the sunny hallways. You can't tell him how many times you styled your hair to look a little like his, hoping the curls that make him look so handsome might make you a little more attractive too. You can't tell him how many times you ran late for schedules just because you took a detour to his studio to talk with him, even if it was just for a minute.
Even if all of it was a waste in the end. Because he likes someone else, and that someone else isn't you.
So you just shake your head as the tears come streaming down, and rip your wrist out of his grip before turning and walking away. The earth feels like it's shattering around you.
Or maybe that's just your heart.
But Chan doesn't give up; you hear his footsteps continue behind you, hurried and irregular, like he's trying to decide whether to let you go or make you stay.
"Y/n," he pants. "Wait, just- will you stop walking so fast? Please, wait, slow down- What's wrong?"
"Everything's wrong!" You cry out, turning to face him as you throw your hands up. A sob rips through your lungs, face contorting with the force of your tears. "Okay? Everything's wrong."
Chan is silent, one hand out in an unsteady attempt to calm you. "What are you talking about? You're worrying me."
You scoff and kick a stone across the footpath, harshly rubbing a hand across your cheekbone.
"Y/n, please," he pleads, his voice quieter. "Felix noticed you were gone for too long earlier, and I saw you walking out of the restaurant. Please, tell me what's wrong. You look so upset."
"Then stop looking."
He recoils, looking slightly hurt, before it's overtaken by a look of determination. You know that look; it either results in an all-nighter to finish a song track, an attempt to wrangle seven naughty kids, or a hard-to-have conversation. You know it's the last one.
"Please," he says, even quieter. "Tell me what's wrong. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
"It's you," you say, broken with utter resignation.
He takes a step forward. "What?"
"It's you," you repeat, looking away as another hysterical sob brings the wind inside your body. It's sharp and biting, and it brings back some of your courage. But only some.
You raise your eyes to look at him. Maybe this is the last conversation you'll have with Chan, before he decides he doesn't want to be around someone who's in a one-way love story with him. Even if that person is his best friend.
"You don't realise, do you?" You whisper brokenly. "You never realised I was in love with you, Chan. But that's just who you are. You may be kind and compassionate and intuitive, but you never realised why I do what I do, or why I act the way I act around you."
His face is contorted in utter disbelief; whether it's from shock or disgust, you don't want to know.
"I realised around the time you helped me move in," you continue. Might as well get all of it out now. "I looked at you differently after a while. I didn't see my best friend anymore. I saw someone else, someone stronger and more clever and more dedicated and more perfect and flawless. And it was strange, because I realised that you changed so much. Maybe I changed too, but it was different seeing you walking around at the company and going about your schedules, because I felt different about it all. I felt different about you. And I couldn't let it go, not least when we actually talked. I used to be late for most of my meetings and events because I would take detours to see you. Some days I would think about canceling my schedules just so I could be around you more.
"And I love the boys, I do, Chan. So much. But I have to admit, I wouldn't be around them half as much if you weren't there. I felt so drawn to you, not like the way I did when we were friends. I figured that if I didn't want to lose you, I would have to discipline myself. So I did.
"I threw myself into my work; I gave myself so much to do, partially to distract myself, partially to use work as an excuse whenever I was invited out, like tonight. Just because I knew you would be there, and I didn't want to end up spilling it all to you, because I knew it would ruin everything between us. Forever.
"And when Chae started hanging around us, I didn't mind at first; I sort of liked her. But I started hating her because of how close she would get to you, how much you two would secretly talk between yourselves, and it made me upset. So I ended up spending much more time by myself so that I would be able to forget she existed. So that I could forget that she ever entered the picture, and that it was just me and my secret that I kept from you. For so long, Chan. You have no idea how much I had to hold myself back from you.
"Did you assume that I never wanted to go out with you guys? That I never wanted to buy drinks from that vending machine the members always go to before eating out, or that I didn't want to spend time with you? Because I did, Chan. But I forced myself not to, because I couldn't bear to see you, and most of the time I didn't know if Chae was going to be there. I told myself I wasn't going to sit there and watch you be with her, not while I felt so invisible and unseen around you.
"Let me tell you something, Chan," you choke through sobs at him, pointing a finger at his chest as though it were a gun. "Every time Jisung or Jeongin or one of the boys invited me out, I did actually show up. Even if you never saw me. I would watch from a distance to see if Chae was with you; if she was, I would turn around and leave, and go home. If not, I would smile from around the corner as the maknaes begged you for money to buy drinks from that vending machine. And then I would turn around and go home anyway.
"I know every single one of their preferences; even if you didn't know I was there to observe them bickering and choosing, faces lit by streetlight. I would go around to the vending machines at the company and randomly buy their favourites for them, even if you didn't know how I knew. I would buy them for you too, and debate leaving a little note for you telling you how I felt alongside it, and I never did.
"Because, despite all of that, it was all a waste," you snap at him. You're not sure why you're angry; you suppose it's the result of feeling unheard for so long. "It was a waste, Chan. Because you never even noticed how I felt. So don't come chasing after me in the night like this like you care, because it was Felix who told you to come after me, Felix who noticed I had been gone for too long, not you of your own accord. And don't look worried or concerned either, because I've told you what's wrong, Chan, just as you asked. You can rest now."
You can barely see him through the blur of your tears.
"Y/n," he whispers, broken as you feel. "I'm so sorry."
"I don't care," you cry out at him, turning and storming in the other direction. And this time, he doesn't follow, still standing under the streetlight with his hand out, though you're not there to take it.
You sob bitterly as you almost flee around the corner, breaking out into a full-on run, like sprinting can fix the problem, fix your heart and your tears. It doesn't, however, and you feel worse as you bolt pass the crossing light, not caring about its colour. Later you will realise that running with blurry vision and a hysterical, heartbroken mindset was not the wisest idea.
You don't see the car speeding towards you until it's too late.
a/n: *laughs in writer*
hellooo, can i request a felix x fem!dating!reader where felix finds a used pregnancy test in the trash can, and freaks because it said positive and thought it was the readers? turns out its not, it was her friends, but he was super stressed and sad the he wasnโt told that โhe was going to have a childโ?(around comeback since that kinda fits in)
this was so cute :( writing sad felix almost broke my heart fr but we pushed through . . . here you goooo~
pairing: lee felix reader
summary: when felix finds a positive pregnancy test in the bathroom bin, a few misunderstandings follow...
genre: sad confused felix, non-idol!au, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy tests, piss (i promise it's one word lol i'm not sus like that), mentions of injury, blood, lots of tears from felix aww :(
a/n: divider by @g0ds-f4v-svp3rn0v4
skz masterlist
"Y/n, hey!"
You let out an excited squeal as you open the door, embracing Jiseo. It's been so long since you saw her; the last time you did, she was busy travelling for her career.
Her familiar warmth surrounds you like a fluffy blanket as you hug, and her sweet perfume lingers lightly in the summer air. No greater is the joy of meeting an old friend, and that too, completely on an unexpected whim.
"Come in," you say almost shakily from joy, cheeks flushed from the surprise.
She laughs and steps in. You switch on the kettle and sit down to talk with her as steam fills the kitchen. You sit and talk for what feels like hours, reminiscing and gossiping about almost everything. It's so good to see her again, and as a surprise, too...
You're just about to gratefully verbalize this to her when she places a hand over yours, leaning in a little.
"By the way, um, I kinda have something to tell you," she says, a little nervously, but still smiling.
You grin. "What is it?"
Jiseo laughs, though there's a hint of uncertainty behind it. "I, um- Y/n, I think I might be pregnant."
You spit out a mouthful of tea, spluttering ungracefully and splashing the table in floral essence. "What?!"
She nods, unfazed by your rather disgusting reaction. "Yeah, it- kinda just happened, you know?"
You lean forward, almost knocking over your mug, eyes so wide you're sure you look like an owl. "Do you know for sure?"
She shakes her head a little bashfully. "I don't really know... I just came here to you, because if I was going to find out, I wanted you to be with me... s-something like that anyway..."
You can't help the warm bubble that sits in your chest; Jiseo has always been so direct yet so shy at the same time. Her sentiment makes your cheeks tinge with colour as you squeeze her hand. She's probably terrified, poor thing.
"I have pregnancy tests upstairs, if you want to use one," you say, smiling gently. Her hands are clammy.
She exhales shakily. "W-would that be okay? Like, not an invasion of privacy, or-"
"Jiseo," you interrupt, chuckling. "It's okay. I promise, whether it's positive or not, I'll always be here for you. Now, go piss on that stick."
She laughs and gets up.
.
You carefully brew another cup of tea as a smile ghosts the corners of your mouth. Inhaling the scent of your second cup of goodness, you sit down in your previous spot and let your fingers skate over the smooth wooden table.
You can't believe Jiseo is pregnant. You couldn't be happier for her.
She left around an hour ago, after around two hours of excited screaming, cheering, and tears from the both of you. She had been terrified, but you spent so long reassuring her, and she'd gone home after disposing of the pregnancy test, in order to catch her breath before her lover came home. You wonder how they would react; they're a good person, and you hope that Jiseo feels supported and cared for throughout the whole process. You have no doubt that her and her partner are probably jumping for joy in the comfort of their own little home right now, and it makes you smile further.
You can faintly hear Felix coming through the front door now; there's the familiar, faint thuds as he kicks off his shoes and puts them to the side.
He comes into the kitchen, sunlight spilling across his frame, and you tilt your head to kiss him as he leans down to you in your chair.
"Hey, sunshine," he murmurs, stroking your hair.
"Hi. How was your day, hmm?"
He sighs and tugs off his tie. "Yeah, busy. Not too bad, though. I'm gonna get changed and then we can make dinner together?"
You nod and smile.
There's a brief moment of silence as Felix shuffles upstairs, his footsteps receding as he shuts the bathroom door. You sit and stare placidly out the window, absentmindedly sipping the cooling tea and absorbing the fading warmth of the mug.
All is quiet.
That is, until a blonde-haired tornado falls down the stairs and stumbles over to you, shirt askew and hair ruffled. You jump with a start and turn to him, about to ask what the matter is, but you're caught up short when you notice the tears pooling in his eyes.
"Love," he gasps, a borderline sob almost escaping. "What is this?"
He holds up a short, white stick and you squint, realising what it is.
Jiseo's pregnancy test.
She must have thrown it away afterwards in the bathroom bin.
You get up, holding out your hands, trying to calm Felix down and explain. "Sunshine, I-"
"No," he gasps. "No, you knew and you didn't tell me? You just threw the fucking test away- love, are you serious? Why would you do this? You didn't even think to call me when you found out you were gonna have a child? Our child?"
"Felix-"
The tears actually spill out of his eyes then, and a guilty look sets itself uncomfortably across his face. "But I swear, we were so careful- How could this happen, I didn't even know because you didn't even think to tell me you were going to eventually fucking give birth-"
"Felix!" You cry. "It's not mine, okay? Calm down."
He stops short, stuttering, tears still streaming down his cheeks in shock and distress. "What?"
You almost laugh, but then remember it might upset him further. He's still confused, after all, and he splutters further.
"W-what do you mean, it's not yours? Do you realise how bad that sounds? Wait, do you mean that the child isn't yours, or the test-"
"For goodness' sake, Felix, the test isn't mine," you say, exasperated as you tug him into a chair with some difficulty. His shirt slips off his collarbone, revealing the freckled, sun-kissed skin underneath. "One of my old friends showed up earlier and she took the test, because she had a hunch she might be pregnant. She must have thrown it away before leaving.."
He's silent for a moment, processing, and then he bursts into tears, upon which you just stare at him, utterly confused. Taking him into a hug, you let him rest his head against your stomach.
It's almost like he just got the news that he's pregnant, you think wryly. This is exactly how Jiseo reacted.
"Lix, honey," you say, a little softer. "It's okay."
"No, it's not," his muffled voice comes from your stomach. You can faintly feel tears soaking the fabric of your top. "I was so stressed, I thought we were gonna have a child, and around comeback season too, I was so scared trying to figure out how we were gonna manage it all-"
You shush and coo at him gently, stroking his ruffled hair, askew in all directions. "I'm sorry I scared you."
He shakes his head, his voice sounding faraway from where he's plowed his face into your middle. "I was worried for you too..."
You fight the warm feeling rising in your chest at his sincerity. He's never afraid to tell you how he feels, your Felix. You do feel bad for not realising Jiseo threw her test away and resultingly scaring the shit out of your lover, but you're glad that he cares enough to be upset about it.
Even if he was wrong.
You let your gaze wander down to where his hair is mussed against your shirt, and you can't help but notice the way his arms are wrapped so tightly around your waist, like he's afraid you'll float away if he lets go. You notice a small gash on his arm, the crimson startling against his pale, freckled skin.
You hum as he lifts his face, tear-streaked and swollen. "What'd you do to your arm?"
He sniffs. "I hit it on the doorway when I came down the stairs... I didn't even feel it."
You sigh, stroking the tiny, soft hairs at the back of his neck. "What am I gonna do with you, hmm?"
"Love me."
You chuckle. "Let's get you patched up."
a/n: listening to zero o'clock by bts while writing this and why does it fit so well . . . ttokki is sad now
Hii! Your 9th member fics are what keeps me going, they're all so good. It's unbelievable!
Would it be okay for me to make a request? Maybe headcanons on how would the members act around a short reader (even shorter than Changbin)? Who would be helpful, who would be annoying? And what if the reader is the type to steal their clothes?
The brainrot is real... I'm not even shorter than Changbin... but I had a dream about it...
once i had a dream where hyunjin shaved my head so 'we could be matching' and i woke up sweating . . . another time i had a dream where jisung and i got into a dating scandal so he picked me up and ran along the beach while JYP was running after us shouting 'break up' sooooo . . . it's a stay thing
pairing: ot8!skz x short 9th member!reader
summary: how skz would act around a short member (who's even shorter than changbin)
genre: crack, idol! au, that's literally it. pure crack. and some fluff. also little shit!maknae line au. but. nothing else. i think.
a/n: divider by @saradika-graphics
skz masterlist
first of all
skz have decided that you are an armrest
so you can just be standing anywhere
and some member will come up to you and just
rest their arm on your head or lean on you
usually it's hyunjin bc he's tall, or minho bc he's a cheeky shit
jeongin did it once and you threatened to bite him
so he never did it again
you let chan and felix do it tho bc they're sweethearts
they don't rest their arms on your head, they do it on ur shoulder which is acceptable
han tried to do it once and he missed
and then fell over
like really badly
anyway
not a single day goes by when you don't have to ask someone to get something down from somewhere for you
perpetual aching in your tippy toes from how much you stand on them
you do try to be helpful, just at a lower level
during dance practices, you're always the one to turn the studio music on or off bc it's closer to the floor
you just bend down and tap the music off
which saves most of the members backache ahem chan
especially felix, who has back issues and isn't supposed to be doing that kind of stuff
sometimes you just turn the music off altogether and disrupt everyone
which results in a defeated lecture from chan and an intense glare from minho
he loves you really
you also spend most of your time thrown over changbin's shoulder
he's overjoyed to have a member who's shorter than him
most of the members usually poke your sides and try to make changbin drop you
they stopped doing that after you accidentally kicked seungmin in the chest
puppy didn't talk to you for two days
you also love stealing their clothes
they're just so comfy !! and they smell good !!
they're also ideal to sleep in bc they're so oversized, so it's like a blanket in itself
you can just pass out anywhere
like a kitten
and you usually get carried back to the dorm like a child
being the shortest also means being the brunt of most of skz's teasing
at this point the boys care more about your height than they do about chan's age
which says something
but they know when to stop, because they know what it's like to be teased about something they can't control
so even though they can be annoying, they also try to make things easy for you
you hang out with jeongin a lot
you two maknaes kind of found each other and as a result, spend a lot of time together
which usually means you passing out at jeongchan's dorm instead of the minsung dorm
did i mention you live with minsung ??
anyway
most of the time you're splayed out in innie's bed
or when he has a late schedule and you're waiting at the dorm for him, chan lets you sleep in his bed
and then forgets that you're in there
so when he actually decides to sleep he gets the scare of his life because you're curled up under the sheets
you def own lots and lots of chunky boots and platforms
you love that sort of stuff, not just because of the height it gives you
also useful to kick people
especially sasaengs
but the maknae line comes in handy for that sooo....
no need tbh
honestly i think any of them would be willing to fight for you
even hyunjin
(even tho hes a stick figure and has the combat strength of a singular wet penne pasta)
in reality, you really do try your best for skz and work as hard as you can
often it's the guys who tell you to take breaks or help you to slow down
bc you're just so go go go all the time
and you don't realise how tired you are until changbin sits you down on the couch
and felix hands you a bowl of something hot to eat
being with them is one of the best things that has ever happened to you
so
no matter how short you are, it doesn't matter
bc you want to be with them as long as possible no matter what the circumstances are !!
<3
a/n: i like the divider hehe
The angst fic you just did of skz reacting to your death was soooo good ๐ญ๐ญ๐ญdef think you should do a pt 2 if you ever consider it :)
*throws heart-wrenching, sob-worthy angst in your face and runs away cackling* SUFFER ! YOU ASKED FOR IT, YOU GET IT !
pairing: ot8!skz maknae!line x reader
summary: skz maknae line reactions to when you d*e.
genre: so so heavy on the angst like hyung line's, mentions of pushing people away, heavy grief themes, denial, mentions of manic disorders, deluded illusions of happiness, fading personalities, mentions of graves and headstones, mentions of blood and scissors in felix's, jeongin's almost made me cry (oh, my sweet, sweet innie), han's is also super sad
a/n: yeehee part 2 of the angstiest fic i've ever done. why is it actually kinda fun to write sad stuff . . . ? anyway div by @carnage-cathedral
if this content makes you uncomfortable, please skip it . the last thing i want is to make people upset, so don't read this if it's triggering for you. proceed with caution and be safe, my loves <3
skz masterlist | part one (hyung!line)
Han whose mic clatters to the floor as the news sinks in. Can't believe it for a good week or two. Not until he realises that when he comes home, there will no longer be something simmering on the stove, there will no longer be the love of his life standing at the counter with sauce-smeared fingers and a cheeky grin. Spends hours and hours listening to all the love songs he wrote for you and that you never heard; cries over his keyboard and breaks the electronics with his misery. Refuses to rap, because like Changbin, he just can't get the words out of his mouth anymore. Becomes quiet and reserved; is aware of every single word that comes out of his mouth, every move he makes, he scrutinizes. Cries for you in the dark every night.
Felix who storms to the bathroom and immediately begins cutting off all of his hair. Hacks it relentlessly; tufts of blonde fall around his feet and collect on the tear-soaked cotton of his shirt. Nicks himself with the scissors in the process, but he doesn't care. Leaves spots of blood in the ironic shape of a heart on the dimly lit bathroom floor. Stains one of your photo frames with the scarlet; kisses it off, and then kisses the delicate depiction of your face behind the glass, setting it down on the bedside and burying his head in his hands. Refuses to dance or sing; the light goes out of his eyes and doesn't seem to return, an odd, almost eerie look taking over his once effortless and joyful exuberance.
Seungmin who pretends not to be affected; lives in denial of what happened, and goes about his life wondering if it's true. Refuses to look at news articles and completely shuts down when one of the members gently tries to help him open up; it always ends in an argument and slammed doors. Sits on his bed wondering if you'll ever come back, and if you left, was it because of something he did? Often regrets not being nicer to you, and jokes to himself about little things he sees that you would have hated; like incessantly hot weather where it melts his skin like pale chocolate, or the whirring of his laptop fan, which you always complained about. Lives the rest of his days in a sort of deluded happiness; he doesn't really believe you're gone.
Jeongin who chases after you in the crowd, only to come up short holding the sleeve of someone who looked the same as you from behind. Is bewildered when he wakes up every morning and places a hand next to him on the bed, expecting you to be there; he finds only a cold-empty loneliness, your soft indent in the mattress rustling under his shaking hands. Still wears your matching jewelry, and visits where you lay often, burying the rings and necklaces in the soft dirt so that you might be able to see them again one day. Scratches little pictures into your headstone and sits with you for hours, talking about anything and everything. Doesn't move, even when it's pouring down like the sea is crashing down from the sky, and holds and umbrella over your buried being to shield you from the wetness.
a/n: so this one is a little longer but it just flowed out of me i guess
back to individual member masterlist . . .
[a] - angst | [f] - fluff | [c] - comfort | [cr] - crack | [ht] - heavy or triggering themes | [t] - thoughts
loading ....
how skz loves you - hyung line maknae line [f] [t]
how skz would do their nails - hyung line maknae line [f] [t]
asking skz "would you love me if i was a worm?" - hyung line maknae line [f] [t] [c]
skz and what type of magic they would wield - 100 follower special [t] [c]
safe - (ot8!skz x 9th member!reader) [f] [c] [a]
relight me - (ot8!skz x 9th member with ed!reader) [f] [c] [a]
valentines' day event special - (ot8! skz x reader) [f] [c] [a] [cr]
dissonance - (ot8!skz x 9th member with anxiety) [f] [c] [a]
rest easy - (ot8!skz x exhausted noona!reader) [f] [c] [a]
skz and celebrating their 9th member's birthday [f] [cr] [c]
skz x 9th member who can speak multiple languages - (ot8!skz x polyglot!9th member reader) [t] [cr] [f]
you get your period on stage - (ot8!skz x reader) [f] [c] [cr] [a]
don't go - (ot8!skz hyung!line x reader) [f] [a] [ht]
don't go - (ot8!skz maknae!line x reader) [f] [a] [ht]
skz x short 9th!member reader [f] [c]
protective!hyung line skz x maknae!9th member reader [f] [c] [a]
protective!maknae line skz x makenae!9th member reader [f] [c] [a]
ot8!skz x pregnant 9th member reader [f] [c] [t]
ot8!skz x plus one! 9th member reader [f] [t]
will i be okay? - (ot8!skz x injured!9th member reader) [f] [a] [ht]
ot8!skz x protective fem!reader [f] [c] [t]
soft landing - (ot8!skz x distressed reader) [f] [c] [a]
dividers by @bernardsbendystraws | skz prompt list
hiii i see you hav angst fics, do uu write character death? if u do then can i request a reader death one and how the members react to it? totally okay if you canโt lolz
ok so this is the angstiest thing i've ever written . . . proceed with caution bc it gets quite intense >< it was a nice release though, i haven't been feeling too over the moon lately, so it helped me a little <3 also blurry header for added angsty vibes . anyway here you go, love~
pairing: ot8!skz hyung!line x reader
summary: skz hyung line reactions to when you d*e.
genre: so so heavy on the angst i cannot stress that enough, kind of dark, mentions of not eating, depression, anxiety, reader doesn't really exist in this fic, sad skz which hurt me to write, mentions of pushing people away, unhealthy obsessions, loss of passion and interests, just really heavy grief themes
a/n: you can't expect me to get a request like this and not write the angstiest, most gut-wrenching, heart-breaking shit anyone has ever read . . . anyway suffer . div by @carnage-cathedral
if this content makes you uncomfortable, please skip it . the last thing i want is to make people upset, so don't read this if it's triggering for you. proceed with caution and be safe, my loves <3
skz masterlist
Chan who goes silent when he hears the news. Doesn't talk, doesn't move, and then gets up and leaves, walking endlessly and aimlessly through the streets until the members have to physically stop him. Doesn't wail or cry, doesn't make a fuss. Becomes less affectionate with everyone around him because physical affection reminds him of you; your hugs and kisses and your hands playing with his. Loses his leader attitude, becomes quiet and introverted, and can't seem to find as much passion in being a leader for his team like he did before. Is wary around everyone he's ever known, pushes people away like he did when he was a trainee. Sits in his room most days; is hardly ever seen, and when he is, he's looking at a little polaroid photo of you, clutched between shaking fingers as he wishes for you to come back.
Minho who immediately shuts himself away, refusing to see or talk to anyone. Spends all day in his dorm room, just sitting and staring placidly at the wall. Relives every single moment you've ever shared and wishes endlessly that he could have spent more time with you. Doesn't feel like dancing much anymore, and any remnants of energy he might have had when you were still here is gone. Becomes bitter and angry, harsh towards his own members. Even loves his cats a little less; most of his memories with them are ones shared with you, and they're far too painful for him to relive. His emotions dry up like a dead, shriveled plant and disappear, his teasing personality evaporating with it.
Changbin who goes radio silent over the phone; hangs up immediately after and can be heard throwing up from distress in the staff bathroom. Is taken sick for a week due to the shock, and doesn't eat much throughout. Ends up throwing all of his still-to-be-given-to-you love letters in the trash, along with the diamond ring he was planning to give you the night of your anniversary. Quits producing music; his words don't flow as smoothly as before, even when he rarely feels like talking to anyone. Permanent eye bags take place under his eyes as he goes online, clicking out of his gym membership. Doesn't want to touch any of your belongings, it's too painful, and quits working out due to the lack of energy in his body.
Hyunjin who choked out a terrible, wailing scream and tore out his hair when he found out what happened; begged his members for it not to be true. Spends all day just staring out the window; is no longer afraid of anything, and finds nothing but icy numbness and a deep blue sadness taking root in his heart. Covers the walls of his room and art studio in pictures of you; splatters the walls in scarlet red and peachy pink, and then splatters himself in the same shades. Can't find it in himself to paint for much longer after that; doesn't cut his hair or paint his nails anymore, because that was always your job. Sets fire to his sketchbook and puts the ashes of it in a jar; then sets it on his top shelf and tucks the rest of his supplies away. Is no longer able to find any beauty in the world, not if you aren't there with him to see it.
a/n: i'm not writing a part 2 unless someone requests it
ninth member!reader who got her period on stage and leaked and after all the boys like cuddle her and stuff??
ooooohhhh that would be a nightmare . . . i'd be mortified >< hope all the female kpop stars out there don't ever have to experience this <3 here you gooooo~~
pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader who gets their period
summary: you get your period on stage and skz helps you out !
genre: fluffy all the way through pretty much, idol! au, cute but confused innie, changbin is also confused but he's got the spirit, minho is horrified (not in a bad way i promise), blatantly feminist seungmin, reader has a period, mentions of eating, drinking, mentions of medication, period stains, and pads (does that need a warning?)
a/n: i've had a few period requests but this one was funny lol. div by @thecutestgrotto
skz masterlist
It begins with a dull ache.
It's not one that you notice, actually; you're too busy trying to reach something on the top shelf, munching on tteokbokki as you do. Jeongin and Felix stand by, watching curiously as your fingertips brush one of the extremely-caffeinated drinks that Chan has stocked out of reach. Seungmin watches, lying on the couch with half a smirk on his face.
You and the maknaes have been eyeing them since you were all ushered into the dressing room to be fitted for outfits. Now, you're making a daring attempt to try and sneak a few sips before the hyung line comes back from getting their makeup done.
Your stomach pangs from the amount of food you've wolfed down in the past ten minutes. At least, you think that's what it's from, but you don't have time to ponder it, because the speaker call for Stray Kids sounds over the intercoms.
Five minutes.
You're all ushered out into the backstage area, where the glitter and buzz of the upcoming performance lifts your energy more than the caffeinated drinks ever could. For the first time, you're glad that Chan has restricted something from you.
You turn just as a stylist does a few last-minute checks on your outfit and makeup; she adjusts the star stickers dotted around your nose and cheeks; you've been breaking out a lot lately, and you grin sheepishly as she peels a couple more off a plastic sheet, placing them systematically around your face.
She rolls her eyes affectionately as you feel Chan's warm hand on your back, pushing you gently to the space just before the performance stage.
Your intro music comes on and you're rocketing into the first few moves of the performance, smiling and dancing with all your might. It's exhilarating to be out on the stage after countless practices and lessons; this is everything you've worked for in the past few weeks.
You feel shiny and in the spotlight as you sing your lines with a flawless tune, relishing in the cheer of the crowd. Other artists sitting in the front few rows and looking through the stage wings look impressed as you shoot the camera a wink.
This is the most confident you've ever felt.
That is, until the performance slowly comes to an end, the music swelling and becoming louder until you feel your ears might burst. You push through, like always, and put every single iota of energy from your body into the last few moves, twirling perfectly into your ending position. You almost stumble, but catch yourself, covering it up flawlessly. You catch Minho's knowing smirk as he positions himself behind one of the other members, and you fight the confused look as his face as his face drops, eyes widening, and he turns back to look at the front.
You don't have time to overthink Minho's strange reaction to you either, because you spot your fancam, and that's when you feel it.
The gush.
You know that feeling well enough to know that it's not discharge, or anything of the sort; you even hope you've just mildly pissed yourself because you would rather it be anything but that. Anything.
Unfortunately, your wishes aren't granted.
You fight the wince on your face as everything starts falling into place; the breaking out, the overemotional responses to dance feedback, and even the unusual amount of fatigue and headaches you've been fighting for most of the week. And of course, those stomach pains earlier were most definitely not from an overdose of delicious tteokbokki. They were cramps.
You press your thighs together and hope there's not a cameraman behind you filming. Putting on your best smile for the fancam, you hold your ending position and make a few cutesy faces to satisfy the fans as the lights go down.
The stage momentarily darkens as the live camera filming crew make their final cuts, and the next artist lines up at the wings as you all hurry off stage. You bow hurriedly as your hands hover embarrassedly at your behind, hoping against hope that you haven't stained the pretty star-cutout jeans you've been given. Because, of course, it had to be lightly coloured, and not the usual dark leather pants you always wear. Denim should hide the potential stain, right?
Of course, no such luck.
You look down and see a pair of muscled arms as your belt; Jisung has whipped off his jacket is and tying it hurriedly around your waist, looking as far away from your lower half as possible. You look up, and see most of the members looking at you; they all hastily avert their gazes at your cheeks burn in shame.
"You feeling okay, Y/n?" Changbin, who has just come back from taking off his mic, looks you up, then down, his brow creasing in concern. "Jisung, why'd you take your jacket off?"
Jisung retracts his arms from around your waist, his face going red. "I- uhm, uh.. you- she, um.. you know..."
Changbin stands in confusion, not understand his friend's stuttering. Felix facepalms and steps forward, taking your hand. By now, one of your arms is wrapped around your waist, trying to soothe the dull, throbbing pain in your lower gut. He starts leading you away, and the boys follow, looking anywhere but you.
Chan immediately takes control as soon as you all step into the dressing room, sending one of the boys to fetch a pair of sweats and a new top from their bag. He gently pushes you to the bathroom and takes out your emergency kit from your bag, giving you a gentle, reassuring smile.
In the bathroom, you tie your stained underwear in a scented plastic bag and put it in the bin. They were old, anyway. Changing into a new pair of underwear and pressing a thick pad to the fabric, you wash your hands and then stick a hand out the bathroom door to receive the spare clothes from one of the boys. You change and exit the bathroom.
Hyunjin has managed to steal several teabags from the staff waiting room, and the rich scent of floral tea fills the air, instantly soothing you. You sit down and try not to make eye contact with anyone.
"Hey, Y/nnie."
You look up as your gaze meets Chan's again. "Yeah..."
"It's okay. I don't think anyone noticed, hmm?"
You groan, your face going red. "What if they did?"
"Then who cares?" Seungmin adds from the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone, where a game screen is loading. "It's normal."
You blink at the unexpected show of support, however blunt it is, and fight a weak smile, crossing your arms over your stomach. Hyunjin hands you the cup of tea and you inhale the light steam, taking a hot mouthful and swallowing slowly, the liquid heat caressing the aching contractions in your abdomen.
You look up just as Jeongin shyly hands you two hand-warming pads. You take them with a smile, fighting the urge to squish his cheeks.
You do it anyway. "What are these for, Innie?"
"Mhmmff- noona, stop... they're for your stomach.. I heard that heat helps, but we don't have a heat pad-"
A tear spills down your cheek at the cuteness (and maybe the hormones). The entire room riots and yelps fill the silence.
"INNIE YOU MADE HER CRY-"
"NOONA DON'T CRY PLEASE-"
"You look so ugly when you cry, Y/n."
"AYEN WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
You groan and cover your ears. "It's fine, I'm just getting hormonal- thank you, Innie. These will help."
He nods and smiles cutely before moving to rest at your side, his warmth providing instant comfort.
I wonder what happened, he thinks, resting his head on your shoulder. I still doesn't know why she's bleeding out of your butt, but at least she's not crying.
Chan comes into the room again with a staff member who, on coming up to you, hands you a blister packet of two tablets. You take the painkillers with a grateful smile and down them in a mouthful of the tea.
"Thank you," you say quietly to the group.
Jisung grins, still without his jacket. "Feeling any better, cutie?"
You nod, smiling.
"Yeah."
a/n: yayyy ! anyway idk how i was supposed to end this . . . anyway
Hey, how are you? May I ask for stray kids 9th member being a poliglot?
this was a cool request, ngl . . . i didn't do a traditional fic bc i like this format a lot, and plus, it's cuter that way >< also can we just appreciate the pretty purple theme guys
pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member polyglot!reader
summary: skz with a 9th member who is a polyglot.
genre: extremely fluffy, very cute stuff, pretty soft, some member x reader stuff, chaotic skz, naughty minho and maknaes, leader chan agenda, romantic hyune, reader who can read, write, and speak multiple different languages
a/n: interesting request . . . divider by @chachachannah
skz masterlist
Chan who wants you to teach him how to say lovely little phrases like 'i love you' and 'you are the light of my life' in different languages, asking you cutely with the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face. He goes around saying them to the other members, who don't understand what language he's talking in, and ignore him. But it doesn't matter, because now he feels like he has a little part of you with him wherever he goes. Is always fascinated as he watches you change languages in the blink of an eye. Makes a sweet sentence in one of your languages his bubble caption.
Minho who, on the other hand, asks you to teach him the dirtiest, filthiest phrases you can think of. They're too graphic to be put here, but some of the milder phrases include 'fuck you' and 'i hope you swallow spiders in your sleep'. Like Chan, he also goes around telling the members these sentences and grins the biggest you've ever seen because now he can swear without being caught. Sometimes does it on stage too, but really quietly just in case there's a couple Stays who actually understand what he's saying.
Changbin who watches in awe as you seamlessly transition between being on the phone, writing things down, and chatting with someone all at once while swapping languages. His head hurts after and he watches you quietly as you go about your usual business, not quite understanding how you do it. He learnt English with some a lot of difficulty, so he's stupefied by the fact that you've learnt not one but multiple languages, and can speak them all fluently. Always asking what you said after you switch back to a language he can understand.
Hyunjin who thinks up the cutest, sweetest, most romantic phrases on a whim, and after he asks how to say them in a language. So you tell him, thinking he's just curious. A few weeks later, you find a painting in your bedroom, a vase of your birth flowers and one of the phrases painted delicately in black across the bottom. He always asks what certain words mean, and asks you to translate random sentences. Has the biggest shine in his eyes as you sit down with him and tell him what all of the words mean, and how to say them. Stumbles through pronunciation but it's cute, so you kiss him as a reward.
Han who also asks what certain words mean, but more often than not, has a translating app open on his phone so he can find out for himself. Spends hours in secret trying to learn sentences by himself, and records himself saying the lines so he can check if he's saying them correctly. Like Changbin, is fascinated when you can switch languages just like that. Once said a rude phrase in front of his hyungs and got scolded because Chan actually understood what it meant (somehow). Got sentenced to 25 pushups as a punishment and never did it again.
Felix who buys workbooks and installs language-learning apps in a bid to try and communicate with you in your languages. Ends up spending over $400 just to spend hours upon hours studying them, much like he did when he was learning Korean. Doesn't notice when you sit down next to him and stroke his hair, he's so focused on learning your languages. Wants to communicate with you in every way he can. Refuses to talk to you in Korean or English until he gets fluent in at least two of your languages, and asks for kisses and hugs when he understands what you're saying to him.
Seungmin who sits in quiet fascination as you write in one language and talk on the phone in another. Isn't as forward in telling you that he wants to learn some of your languages, but definitely goes online and does his own research. Likes looking up the origins of each language and how the words were formed. Finds himself repeating little phrases he'd caught you saying that morning or the night before. Will never admit that he finds it fascinating that you can talk, read, and write in different languages, but nods and listens when you tell him all about it anyway, admiring the passion in your eyes with a warm heart.
Jeongin who learns weird phrases to catch you off guard, because he loves the speechless look on your face when you hear them. Is too shy to ask you outright to teach him your languages but also does research so he can learn himself. Recites off lines to the members and forces them to sit and listen so he can say them to you without messing up. Ends up wasting a lot of practice time, but he doesn't really care. Learns to write keywords and cute little sentences, and writes them in the margins of your notebooks to surprise you. Doodles love hearts and stars around each phrase.
a/n: very cute
hello. ๐ if it's not a bother, could i please request stray kids celebrating their 9th memberโs birthday with her (please leave her age unspecified)? ๐ฅฐ no pressure, it's okay if you don't do this! ๐ค
hiyoooo this was such a cute request . . . i didn't do a traditional fic bc i know everyone likes to celebrate differently >< i'm def more a lowkey type of person but i know others who like to go all out <3 here you goooo
pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader
summary: how skz would celebrate your birthday !
genre: fluff, idol! au, chaotic skz, reader celebrates their birthday, age left unspecified (though they're the youngest of the group), cute innie, big brother skz agenda all the way, mentions of forehead kisses, mentions of eating, mentions of chan's back pain
a/n: happy birthday to anyone who's celebrating lol
skz masterlist
so how skz celebrates your birthday definitely depends on whether you're a big, grand gesture sort of person or not
if you are
then expect half the company to be there at the party
or a big fancy event in one of the halls
lots and lots of singing and dancing, if your birthday happens to fall on a skz concert date, they'll definitely perform 'happy birthday' and sing one of your favourite songs
lots of gifts
i mean lots
they could be the most random things too
we all know how leeknow gifts things
so expect anything from a new nachimbong to a cucumber
skz would def be the type of people to surprise you at the dorms too, with a whole massive spread of food and sweets
felix would def be baking for you too
and there'd be a cake in your favourite colour with your name written on slightly messy icing on the top
when you look closer you notice your name is spelt wrong
jeongin excitedly points out that he wrote your name on the top and you kiss his forehead anyway in thanks
bc he's cute and you would never point out the fact that he spelt his only younger member's name wrong
oh well
you appreciate the gesture anyway
then it's gifts
most of them are good and you love them
but there's a select few that make you laugh
like a matching horse mask from jisung or a singular messed-up paintbrush from hyunjin
you keep them anyway for the memories
(and make a mental note to scare chan with the horse mask later, alongside jisung, who already has one of his own)
shhh !!
then it's opening the cards from each member
again, super cute messages from the members, aside from seungmin's card
he's just written in sparkly blue gel pen 'you survived another year'
'good job'
and that's it
slightly menacing but you thank him for it anyway, watching him grin as you place it down
and then it'd be a night out at the mall or the arcade
or anywhere you want to go
expect to be spoilt by your eight older brothers
they spare no expense to make you happy
whether you choose to take advantage of that or not is up to you
changbin or chan would def let you climb on their back as a once-off
and they'd carry you through the streets while you giggle in their ear
changbin doesn't even feel you
while chan is wishing he'd stretched his back earlier
you all end up falling asleep in a heap as soon as you guys get back to the dorms
no one has bothered to undress either so you all wake up looking like you did the night before
if you're not a grand gesture sort of person
or you just get a little shy on your birthday
skz will def be a little more lowkey
some of the members, especially the maknaes, don't really understand why you don't want to go all out for it
but they try to make you happy anyway
personally i feel like they wouldn't make too much of a fuss in fear of upsetting you
so you'd wake up as per normal and go to the kitchen
and minho has cooked breakfast for you
your fav obviously
and the other members just kind of go about their business and wish you a happy birthday
chan def stops to kiss the crown of your head bc you're like his little sibling and felix does the same
bc he's sweet like that
your day then goes as per normal
maybe with a lot less schedules and practices bc no one wants to do work on their birthday
unless you're super productive i guess
but yeah
and then you get home and walk into the living room
the boys have set up a blanket fort and a mess of cushions and pillows on the lounges
netflix is already loaded on the screen and chan and hyunjin have ordered takeout for everyone
so you all dress down into comfy clothes and pyjamas and sit and eat while watching a movie
your pick ofc
they do bake you a cake, or buy one for you if you're not into that
but they don't sing happy birthday bc they don't want to embarrass you
the maknaes def try and burst into off-tune song
you just let them bc it's funny
'you guys are literally singers how do you massacre 'happy birthday'...'
anyway
you all fall asleep in a heap with frosting-flavoured lips and sticky fingers
when you end up waking up, you decide to go to your bedroom
there's gifts from all the members on the bed and cards too
which makes you tear up
bc they were considerate enough to determine that you might be uncomfortable opening them in front of everyone
you make sure to thank them all the next day
skz loves you so much and will do anything to see you happy <3
a/n: i want cake now
Hi ttokki!! I love the way you write the members being soft and caring for reader :) wanted to request 9th member where she is similar age to chan, so noona to most of the guys, being maybe like his second in command in caring for everyone, cooking, teaching choreo and stuff. Where they realise she's not been taking good care of herself for a while, like skipping meals or sleep bc she feels responsible like she doesnt deserve it. Just soft and gently, you are so skilled at that
hiyo~ thank you sm, love. i liked this request, i tend to do the same for people around me and it's easy to forget yourself sometimes >< hope this hits the spot . . .
pairing: ot8!skz x exhausted noona!reader
summary: taking care of skz can be a lot of work, but you tend to forget yourself in the process...
genre: lil bit angsty, idol!au, tired minho with a headache, overexcited skz (what's new), mentions of skipping meals, slight mention of blood (a small injury), mentions of overwork, fatigue, and exhaustion, mentions of food and eating, sulky maknaes, slight allude to reader x chan
a/n: reader pretty much replaces minho for the role of skz mom (sorry min), divider by @kodaswrld
skz masterlist
"Jisung, take that out of your mouth- Seungmin, no, don't give it back to him... You two, stop fighting-"
You smile and lean your head on your hand, watch Chan attempt to wrangle the members, most of which have had far too much sugar to be at a controllable level. You're sitting at the hotel table, and most of the other members are messing about in the lounge area. Everyone but for Minho, who went to lie down earlier, complaining of a headache.
Speaking of, you should probably go check on him.
Getting up and putting your empty glass in the sink, you make your way past the group and down the hallway of bedrooms, entering the second-left door. You're greeted with darkness and a faint groan from within the heap of rumpled sheets on the bed.
"Minho?" You call softly, pulling the door half-shut so as not to disturb him with the hallway light. You walk up to the bed, quiet as a mouse. "How are you feeling?"
He just groans in response as you gently pull back the sheets, checking his temperature just in case he's fallen ill. "Noona..."
"Shh," you quiet him gently, soothing. "Does it hurt much?"
He shakes his head, his hair splayed against the pillow. Likely he's just tired from the day's events. You sit on the end of the bed and stroke his hair for a while, lulling him to sleep. He's already had medicine, and you kiss his forehead gently before getting up to leave.
Shutting the door, you're met with Jeongin and Seungmin, who cling to either one of your arms, sulking. You chuckle and sit down on the lounge couch, both of them burying their faces in your neck.
"What's wrong, you two?" You ask, ruffling Seungmin's hair.
"Chan-hyung told us off," Jeongin whines.
You mock-frown at the leader, who is standing in baggy black clothes, a disapproving expression on his face. He face-palms and you stick your tongue out at him. He scoffs, though you can detect a hint of affection behind it, and claps his hands.
"Alright, you drama kings. Bed."
.
"Hyunjin, take it easy," you say, concerned as he runs through the choreo for a fifth time. "Take a break."
He seems to not have heard, because he keeps dancing with even greater fervour. Sighing, you take his ear and drag him to the side, ignoring his protests. Tossing him a towel and giving him a bottle of water, you place a hand on his leg. You know he's been pushing himself lately, to the point where you had to lock the hotel room door so he wouldn't sneak out at night to practice.
You're all outside at the concert venue, doing soundchecks a few hours before the event commences, and it's cloudy, the wind blowing a breeze through everyone's hair. Chan comes over, frazzled, papers flying behind him, his cap half-falling off, and his fingers covered in bandaids from several clumsy, hastened tasks he had to do.
"I forgot to do the song breaks," he gasps, his hair disheveled. Hyunjin side-eyes him through a sip of water.
You adjust his cap, smoothing down the little duck tail curls at his nape. "Don't worry. I did them already. What did you do to your hands- Mmhff-"
You're cut off as he squeezes you in a hug, a relieved exhale leaving his frame, taking some of the tension with it. "Thank you, Y/nnie. What would I do without you?"
The sentence reverberates through your head; would things be worse without you there?
This means I need to do more, you think. I can help out as much as possible.
You mull this over and wave a momentary goodbye to Hyunjin, walking backstage with Chan. Felix, Changbin, and Jisung are busy being fitted for outfits and they immediately pummel you for attention, calling out as soon as you enter the room.
"NOONA LOOK AT MY SPARKLY TOP-"
"NOONA DO YOU LIKE THE COLOUR OF THESE GLOVES-"
"NOONA DO I LOOK COOL-"
You wave your hands. "Very cool and sparkly, I do like the colour, you all look great!"
It seems to satisfy them for the time being, and you watch them dissipate to their respective stylists. Passing through the room, you sit down in a chair in the corner and keep an eye on all of the boys. Chan is stressed enough right now; the least you can do is keep an eye on the members while he finalises things for the concert.
Your stomach rumbles and you think about quickly leaving to get food from one of the cafes across the street from the stadium, but you can't risk leaving the members unsupervised. Guaranteed, one of them will come looking, and then everything will fall to pieces. Crossing your arms over your stomach, you sigh and unscrew a bottle of water instead. That should keep you full for a while.
At least you hope it does.
.
You laugh and hug a sweaty Jisung, cheering. The concert went off without a hitch, and you're all backstage, congratulating each other on the performances and enjoying the moment of togetherness. Except you can't enjoy it as much, because your head is beginning to hurt, and it's starting to get difficult to see. You probably should have eaten something earlier, but you can last until you all get back to the hotel.
You all file out of the venue and pile into cars. Your foot almost missed the car threshold and you bump your shin, hissing as you collapse into the seat next to Chan.
"You okay?" He asks. He has his headphones in, his makeup smudging a little at the corners of his eyes.
You nod, sighing. "Long day. Good work on the performance."
He smiles and you reach up to gently clean up the messy makeup with a thumb, his gaze fixed on you. Jeongin and Seungmin are looking over the back of the seats in disgust.
"Noona," Hyunjin groans from behind. "Stop hitting on leader-hyung."
You roll your eyes and look out the window as Chan turns to tell him off. Your thoughts wander and you rub a hand against your shin, trying to soothe the ache. Your fingers come away lightly stained in red.
Panicking, and then glancing at Chan to check he hasn't seen, you inspect your leg. There's a few spots of red where the blood has soaked through the fabric of your pants, and you cross your legs quickly so as to hide the stain.
You think for a moment; you could ask someone if they have a bandaid, maybe... after all, there are always first aid kits in the cars, but you can't be weak and ask for help. Your job is to be there when other people ask for help, not the other way round.
Sighing, you try your best to hide your pain as you filter out of the car after the others. Your stomach rumbles, more insistently this time, and you quickly uncap your water bottle, trying to quell the dull, growing ache in your stomach. Your head hurts too, but you don't have time to think about it as you enter the hotel room, mind already whirring with things that need to be done.
You go to your room and quickly slap a bandaid on the cut on your shin, washing your hands of the blood and then changing into comfier clothes. Rolling your sleeves up, you enter the kitchen and begin cutting up ingredients, throwing spices into a pan and seasoning meat. The guys have had a long, tiring day, not to mention a whole concert, so they deserve a good, home-cooked meal away from home.
.
"Noona, this is so good," Felix groans, heaping in another mouthful of cheesy tteokbokki. There's silence around the table; everyone is so invested in stuffing their faces. Hyunjin has even tied his hair back so he can eat without dipping his hair in the soup, and Changbin has stolen two of your hairclips to keep his bangs back for the same reason.
You sit next to Chan as per usual, holding a cup of a hot herbal drink; you didn't feel like eating is what you told the boys when they insisted you take your share of the massive spread you cooked for them.
In reality, you're starving, but it doesn't seem fair for you to be eating when they've been working so much harder. They deserve it more. After all, you're just the second-in-command, Chan's right hand person and a manager for the boys. You don't work nearly twice as hard as they do on a good day.
You set the mug down on the table, standing up. The pain in your head aches and throbs sharply with the movement and you fight not to fall over. "I'm going to bed."
Some of the guys nod with mouths full of meat and rice, and you retire to your room, shutting the door. You collapse on the bed and close your eyes, trying to will the headache away.
That doesn't work, unfortunately.
The door opens then, and it's Minho who comes in, peeking around the corner. "Noona?"
"Mmm."
"Do you have a headache like I did?"
You nod and sit up, rubbing your eyes, and give him a tired smile. "Nothing I can't handle. Did you need something?"
He shakes his head, and then shyly comes into the room, holding a bowl of soup. "I saw you weren't eating earlier... Chan-hyung wondered if we should bring you something to eat..."
You let him place the soup on the bedside. "Thank you, Minho. I might just sleep, but I'll eat after-"
"No," he says firmly, with the absolute ferocity of a tiny, fluffy kitten.
"What?"
Jisung pokes his head in at the doorway. "You have to eat now."
You swing your legs off the bed. "Why?"
"Because," Chan says, appearing behind the two, Jeongin holding his leader's sleeve, "You need to take care of yourself and not just us."
"But I am."
The four boys suddenly tumblr into the room as Changbin and Hyunjin stick their noses into the conversation too.
"Noona, you hurt your leg earlier and you didn't tell us," Hyunjin whines. "And you told me to take a break from dancing but you didn't take a break the whole day-"
"Yeah, and then you went to your room and pretended to sleep so you wouldn't have to eat," Changbin pouts.
Chan gestures to the still-cooling soup on the bedside that Minho had brought for you earlier. "Please, Y/n."
You sigh. "Okay, okay. It just felt wrong to be eating as well, since I don't work even half as hard as you guys do-"
You're interrupted by a crowd of indignant protests and it's so loud that you immediately raise the soup bowl to your mouth. All of the boys watch as you take a mouthful of the rich, meaty broth. It fills your stomach on the first go. Your headache slowly begins to fade.
The boys filter into the room and hang around you while you eat, bickering and play-fighting. None of them make you feel self-conscious or inferior, just bringing with them a sort of peace.
You eventually fall asleep curled between two of the boys, surrounded by serenity, warmth, and the still-lingering scent of soup hanging faintly in the air.
a/n: i was gonna name this one 'soup' but i already have a jisung fic about soup soooo
hiii baby!!! I love your work and this is like my first request Iโve sent to anyone at all ๐ญ but could you do 28 and 7 for Minho ^^ tysm!!
hihi cutie~ i've actually had both of these prompts before so i got better at writing them hehe. also amogus divider bc why tf not
pairing: bf!lee know x reader
summary: you fight with minho and he comes back to make things right.
genre: non-idol! au, pretty angst, soonie doongie dori honourable mention, comfort, fluffy ending, soft minho
a/n: so i started listening to lana del rey and i wrote this to 'sad girl' also div by @si-eunnis
โ๏ธ prompts: 7. "I'm glad you're here." / 28. "You're looking at me like that again."
skz prompt list | skz masterlist
You toss another dirty tissue across the countertop, sniffing as you watch it come to rest at the very edge, teetering. Leaning your cheek against the cold, marbled surface, you sigh and let the sharp feeling seep through your pores like iced water.
It does little to soothe the current puffy redness of your cheeks; how long have you been sitting here, crying? The golden hanging lights that frame the kitchen have made your hair warm to the touch, their beams caressing the messy state of it, and your back feels numb and achy from the awkward position you've been slumped in since Minho stormed out of the apartment. You sigh.
You don't even remember what you were fighting about.
Each exhale feels like it's been punched out of you as you relive the events of the past hour; him coming home, both of you tired and irritable, and then fighting over the pettiest thing that you don't even remember anymore.
Then he left.
You're not sure if he's coming back; he didn't take anything but his phone, which had been in his pocket as soon as he came in, and his work bag, which is still smashed against the wall where he'd dropped it with a sigh on coming home.
You can't fight a weak smile at the habit; you've installed multiple hooks along the wall so he can hang his bag up when he gets home, but every time you did, he'd always just drop it on the floor anyway, kicking off his shoes at the door.
And you'd smile and gesture at the hooks, but he'd just ignore them, kissing your fed-up expression off your face with a gentle mouth and squeezing your shoulder with a warm, solid hand.
The way he always does.
You look at those hooks now; one of the cats' collars is hanging off them, and several other items like hair ties and rings of keys adorn the others. You came into the kitchen one day and saw Minho hanging a cat toy from the hook nearest to the door so that, when he wasn't home, the cats would be able to play. Dori sits there now, batting with fluffy white paws at the feathers and bells on the string.
Ding, ding. Ding.
You're not sure why you're thinking of such things; surely anyone in your current situation would incessantly cry their eyes out, wailing at the mistake of fighting with their partner, instead of thinking about plastic wall hooks and under-stimulated cats.
You're so distracted that you don't even notice the apartment door open again, so slowly that it takes about half a minute for Minho to actually step inside.
He's soaked.
The smell of the night rain that he brings with him is suddenly so prominent inside the still air of the apartment that it's what makes you look up.
"Minho," you whisper, eyes red and puffy. You scrub a hand across your face, the skin stinging at the harsh treatment. You hadn't even heard the rain outside.
He doesn't look at you, just takes off his shoes, very deliberately. There's a little puddle of rainwater around his feet and you fight back an exhale as his socked feet meet the wet tiles. Dori immediately goes to nuzzle against his legs and then hisses at the unpleasant wetness of his owner's legs.
But Minho doesn't seem to notice, simply taking off layers until he's stood in his slacks and white work shirt, which is the only dry item of clothing he has on. He drops the rest of his clothes in a pile.
His eyes finally lift themselves to meet yours; the warmth in them is gone, replaced by something unreadable. A dull, heavy feeling settles in your gut, a sense of finality washing over your being. You know this is the moment that he'll say he wants to leave, that he just can't find it in himself to love you. He'll go to your shared room and start packing a suitcase, and take the cats with him, all while you wail and tug at his arms for him not to leave, please, Minho, don't leave-
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
Your gaze flits to his. Your voice is croaky, cracked, saturated with sadness. "What?"
He steps forward, ignoring the insistent mewing of Soonie and Doongie, who have just come into the room. "I'm sorry. I should have just left to clear my head and then came back, but I've been gone half the night."
You blink and look through tired eyes to the clock on the wall. It takes you a couple seconds to process the time. It's 1 am. Minho came home at 9 pm. You don't even know how many hours that is.
"How long were you walking in the rain?" You say, still whispering lest you scare him off again.
He shrugs. His mouth opens, like he wants to say something, but he's hesitant, like he's not sure how it will be received.
He speaks anyway. "I stalled for a while. I didn't know if you'd be here when I came back..." His fingers twist in the slightly damp material of his white shirt, fidgeting.
Your indignance suddenly takes over your upset state and you sit up straighter. "I would have waited all night for you, Minho. I wasn't going to leave..."
"I know," he says solemnly, and then quietly, "I'm glad you're here."
You nod and slowly slide off the chair you've been slumped in, disturbing a few of the tissues scattered across the countertop. "I'm sorry too, Min. I shouldn't have kept the argument going."
He shakes his head. "We were both tired. It happens."
You both stand in silence for a minute, neither one of you sure how to continue the conversation. It's almost awkward until Minho steps forward, taking out something from his pocket. He shyly holds it out.
You take a small step forward and take the small item from him. Unfolding your fingers from around it, you blink through unshed tears to see a small keychain resting in the palm of your hand. It's a little cat with its mouth open, its fur pattern like Soonie's, but grey instead of ginger. There's another attachment of a pink peach, and the clip keyring attachment is shaped like a heart.
You look up at Minho. His face is red. You remember suddenly that he's quite shy when it comes to giving things to people, and you can't fight the urge to throw yourself into his arms.
This little keychain is Minho's apology.
His skin is cold, damp from the rain, and the collar of his shirt is wet from the rain, but you hold him close anyway. You wrap your arms around his middle, squeezing your eyes shut. He's almost fetched up against the wall from how hard you threw yourself at him, but his arms find their familiar place around your shoulders.
You pull back slightly, gazing up at him. As if he wasn't soaked enough, your tears have left two patches on his chest, but he doesn't seem to mind.
"You're looking at me like that again." Minho says quietly.
You hum, a tear spilling down your cheek. "Looking at you like what?"
You see his throat bob, swallow hard. You can feel the constant thrum of his heart through the damp fabric of his shirt.
Minho gulps. "You always look at me like than when- when-"
"When I say I love you?" You finish for him.
Minho nods inaudibly, the movement of his head so small you almost don't see it at all. You smile, tilting your head at him, the tears beginning to slow.
You both stand there for who knows how long, clinging to each other, trapping between your bodies the smell of rain and fade cologne. Finally, Minho talks.
"I love you too."
a/n: this was way too long
Hi!! Could I please make a request? I was thinking of maybe a ot8 skz x 9th member reader, where the reader has anxiety and ends up having a panic attack and the members comforted the reader?
hihi anon >< i liked this request. i was actually thinking of writing another 9th member fic when this ask came in, so perfect timing ! here you go <3
pairing: ot8!skz x reader with anxiety
summary: you have a panic attack while performing on stage with skz.
genre: angsty, idol!au, mentions of eating, graphic descriptions of a panic attack, slight implication of sh, fluffy ending, mentions of eating, skz are sweethearts
a/n: go check out my 'skz valentines' day event special' if you haven't already >< !
You love what you do. Really. Being on stage, wearing cool outfits, doing what you love, and of course, singing and dancing and performing with eight of your best friends is the total dream.
You couldn't have asked for more.
But now that you're standing backstage, surrounded by staff members, stylists, maintenance techs, and a countless amount of other people you don't even know, you're beginning to feel a little bit overwhelmed.
You look across to where Chan is discussing something with a stylist; it's like you can barely see him because of the overloading environment, and as you watch, his image slowly splits into two. Like a hallucination.
The performance is in a few minutes, and the noise around you becomes even louder as you begin to make your way to the wings of the stage. It's darker here, at least, but the hustle and bustle doesn't end, and neither does the constant ringing in your ears.
You feel a warm hand press lightly into the small of your back and you look up to see Hyunjin gazing down at you.
"You okay?" He says, adjusting his mic. "I know it's noisy here."
You can't do anything but nod in response, not trusting yourself to speak, save you burst into tears, or rudely snap at him. You've been backstage to events like this countless times, but the overwhelm and nausea that seems to come with it never ends. It always starts to happen the moment you sit down in the dressing room to have your makeup done.
The other members gather in a group behind Chan, who's waiting at the curtain before the stage, and you, who's gripping into the velvety material with white-knuckled fingers.
It all feels too much; the coloured lights, the brightness of the stage, the jumbled, discordant noises around you, and even your own members being near you makes you want to scream. Looking at Hyunjin's face again is too much to even bear, the diamantes under his eyes shining far too bright, and the badges on his jacket feeling far too odd and icky to be fashionable.
Chan, who's turned back to count his members before going on stage, glances at you; he knows how you get with these sorts of events, and you can't bear the sight of his face either. You just want him to go away, even if he's not talking to you. A pang of irritation shoots through you as he begins to talk.
"Y/n," he says quietly, though you can barely hear him through the blood rushing through your ears. "Take a deep breath, yeah?"
He moves a little closer, a hand out to stop anyone rushing by from bumping into you. There's a heart-shaped diamante on his cheek, and suddenly you want nothing more to reach up and rip it off his face. The urge to do it is almost overwhelming.
But even if you wanted to, you can't, because suddenly Chan is shouting something and you all run out onto stage, the cheer of the crowd so deafening you can't hear anything at all, your ears buzzing. You start to move purely out of muscle memory, your subconscious forcing your to dance only due to hours of late-night practices where you repetitively drilled the routine into your bones. But it feels stiff and clunky, almost unnatural to be moving the way that you are.
You barely register singing your part; it must have been incredibly subpar, you're sure of that at least, because Minho turns to look at you a little strangely before moving to jump back into position. But you're so visibly out of breath that he seems to realise what's happening, and he takes over singing your part while you keep dancing. The white lights above you are so hot, almost searing against your skin, beating down on you relentlessly. None of the other members seem to be affected, however.
You wince and scrunch the left side of your face as you almost roll your ankle, and you swear you can feel the makeup crinkling against your skin, the unpleasant caked layer of it seeping into your pores, clogging them with impurity. You desperately reach up a hand to scratch it off, provide some relief, but all the members put their hands up as per the routine, and you do the same, so your current situation isn't immediately noticeable to anyone who's watching. You doubt you're performing at even an average level, but you can't find it in you to care, you're so out of breath.
I can't keep going-
Your clothes feel scratchy and irritating against your skin, the top just a little bit too uncomfortable, your shoes just a little too tight, and the fingerless gloves on your hands are almost too much to bear, your hands going numb. Your hair is done too strangely, the styling making your scalp feel all tight and pressured, and suddenly you can't do anything but drop to your knees in the middle of the rush and gasp, your head pounding so hard it hurts-
Too much too much too much-
Before you know it, the stage suddenly goes dark and you realise that the performance has ended. Hopefully no one saw what happened-
That hope is dashed to pieces as you're immediately swarmed by staff members, all crowding in concern. You hear Jeongin yelp as he's pushed to the side and someone else, Chan, you think, is shouting, trying to create order and get to you at the same time. The crowd is murmuring, whispering, but you can't hear them, your whole being numb and grey with searing anxiety.
The members seem to understand what's happening, though, and you look up through dark, blurry vision to see Danceracha making a barrier between you and the rest of the backstage crew with their bodies, Felix looking over his shoulder in concern. They've finally managed to get through the swarm and you collapse onto your back, simply too exhausted to do anything else despite the din of noise surrounding you like a cloud of wasps.
You feel someone's hands- Seungmin's, maybe, press themselves into your shoulders, and a spicy, warm scent fills your nostrils as you suddenly leave the earth, a prominent weight settling over your being. Chan is lifting you.
The rest of the members begin to make their way through the crowd to their designated group dressing room, you clinging to Chan's shoulders so hard you think you might leave crescent-shaped scars in the skin. But he doesn't flinch, not that you notice, since you're unable to do anything but gasp and hyperventilate. You think you might scream, but nothing leaves your lungs, and by now you've lost complete control of your breathing.
Chan sets you down in his lap once the dressing room door is shut, sitting on the couch, and Minho immediately turns the light off. Dimness floods the room and Changbin kneels in front of you, carefully slipping off your shoes and gloves while Jeongin runs his fingers through your hair, flaking out the harsh gel and returning your slightly sweaty hair to its usual state.
You gasp and keel over just as Jisung takes a hold of your hands, completely calm and in control.
"It's okay, Y/nnie," you hear him say, his voice sounding faint and faraway. "You did so well for us, just try and tune into the silence, it'll help..."
You almost forget that this is what Jisung does when he feels overwhelmed with a panic attack too; he told you once that sitting somewhere quiet helps your head to clear things up a little. He must be right, because your breathing is beginning to slow down.
You look down at your hands; you can't feel them, and they look almost alien through your buzzing panic, like they don't really belong to you. Jisung's firm yet gentle grip has left little white patches on the skin in the shape of his fingertips, the blood not flowing through your hands properly due to the hyperventilating.
Foundation gathers on the underside of your nails as you reach up and desperately try to remove all the makeup, your tears not even penetrating the thick, oily layer of cosmetic product. Diamantes come raining down and gather on your thighs just as someone gently swipes a damp, cool cloth across your cheeks, the fabric coming away the colour of your skin.
By the time all of the makeup is cleaned off, and you're sitting in nothing but the complete base layer of your outfit, your breathing has slowed down completely. You look up with red, teary eyes, your heart still pounding, and meet eyes with Chan, who's still sitting with you in his lap, one hand stroking your waist.
"I can't go back out there," you choke out.
Chan nods. "That's okay, Y/nnie. You did really well performing, okay? I think we should all just stay here a little longer until you feel somewhat better, then we'll figure out what to do, hm?"
You sniff. "I m-messed up the performance, though.."
"It's okay, Y/n," Changbin says softly from where he's sitting, his legs swung over a chair.
"Yeah," Hyunjin adds. "Don't worry."
The room is completely silent, until Seungmin pointedly gets up and moves to a stylist mirror, opening the cabinet and pulling out a packet of makeup wipes. He sits down and cleans his face, matter-of-factly, then tosses the wipes into a nearby bin. Minho moves to do the same, and undoes the clasp of his necklace, tossing all his jewelry into a shiny, clunky pile on the table without a word.
Chan nods in approval. "I think we're done here for today. Let's dress down and clean up, then go back home. I think all of us could do with some rest."
You lie down on the couch while the rest of the members change clothes and wash off their makeup in the adjoined bathroom. Everyone keeps their voices low, and the dimness of the room compared to the flashiness outside almost makes you fall asleep. That is, until Felix appears at your side, holding out a juice box and a couple of wrapped chocolates.
"Here," he says quietly. "It should help keep your sugar up until we get back to the dorms."
You sit up a little bit and accept them from him, sipping tiny little sips from the juice as Felix pats your head and leaves to clean off his makeup.
Jeongin moves to lie down next to you after a while, and Hyunjin makes little origami birds out of the chocolate wrappers while Chan finalises the group's departure from the event.
"Alright," Chan says with conviction as Jisung helps you up from the couch. The members assemble near the door, raring to go. "Let's get out of here. I've had enough of this place."
You fight a weak smile as he shoots you a wink.
I couldn't agree more.
a/n: i should really try and find images that actually match for my headers. sigh
pairing: ot8!skz x reader imagines
summary: just a snippet of what i think skz would do for you on valentines' day
genre: pretty cute and sappy, lots of fluff, slight crack, mentions of eating
a/n: yet another year of having no valentine, but at least i can buy chocolate half off
Chan who surprises you and shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers and an outstretched hand. He's in a dark fitted suit, handsome as always, and there's a big smile on his face as he runs off the cheesiest pick up lines, handing you a singular rose as he does. He waits in your living room while you get ready and then offers his arm as you both walk to his car. He takes you to a classic night out, a candlelit dinner in some city restaurant, the lights low and ambient music swirling around your heads. Hushed giggles and feeding each other bites of food are done over intertwined hands.
"You look beautiful under the lights, baby. Here, eat some more..."
โก
Minho who pretends to forget what day it is and leaves you feeling a little downcast. That is, until you're in your office working and the cats walk in, each holding a rose of a different colour; one red, one pink, and one white. He appears at the door with a smirk on his face and strokes your hair as you whine about him pretending to forget. The roses are clutched tightly in your hands as he leads you to the kitchen, where there's a small arrangement of gifts. He isn't one for grand gestures but you're satisfied and cosy, sitting in his lap as you open little trinkets, the cats watching on.
"You're so cute when you whine. You really thought I forgot, huh?"
โก
Changbin who is also a hopeless romantic, who is endlessly in love with you, who shows up to your workplace with a hand full of heart-shaped helium balloons and a big grin on his face. He loudly declared his love for you in front of your coworkers, completely unashamed, and watches with a massive, cute smile on his face as you turn the colour of the balloons he's holding. But the gigantic, warm, though slightly crushing hug he gives you is warmer than your cheeks.
"Happy Valentines Day, bunny! Here- Ah, your face has gone so red..."
โก
Hyunjin who told you to show up at his apartment at exactly six o clock dressed in something classy but comfortable. He blindfolds you as soon as he opens the door and leads you to his living room, where he's set up two canvases opposite each other. There's a platter full of finger food, two glasses and a bottle of some fancy drink he took from the company. He's hung fairy lights around the room and he watches affectionately as you show him your slightly messy impression of the love of your life. His is much better, but he kisses you anyway and says he'll hang it in his room above the bed.
"You're so talented, my love. I'm going to hang it up right away..."
โก
Jisung who pretty much kidnaps you as soon as your shift at work ends, telling you to dress in one of his hoodies. When you come out of his room, he's set up a massive mess of pillows, cushions, and fluffy blankets in front of the TV, which is set up to play a game. He hands you a controller and tells you he's ordered so much food. You know he's done it so you can both spend time together without it ending in the kitchen burning down, but it's appreciated nonetheless. He lets you beat him every time and watches you sit up in victory and cheer at his defeat, your fingers covered in cheesy french fry salt.
"Aww, jagi, you keep beating me. When did you get so good at this?"
โก
Felix who, when you come home, surprises you by setting up a few things in the kitchen so you can both bake and make a few things together. He sets up bowls of chocolate and lets you add the food colouring, turning each bowl pink and red. You both dip strawberries and candied orange slices into the bowls, dripping chocolate over the counter before laying them on a tray to set. You mix the rest of the chocolate together and pour them into heart-shaped molds, marbling the colours together with fingertips stained pink.
"Sunflower, we made such a mess! At least the counter isn't stained pink..."
โก
Seungmin who takes you shopping to the cutest little pop up store, telling you to dress in pink, cream, and white. He meets you at your door and holds your hand as he drives you both there, letting you browse excitedly amongst the shelves for mini figures and plushies. You both come home loaded with a ton of accessories, cuddly toys, and matching items. He then sets up pink lights around your bathroom mirror and takes a whole album's worth of selfies with you.
"I like these necklaces... come on, let's be matching. It'd be cute..."
โก
Jeongin who takes you to the arcade and doesn't even try to let you win. It turns into a competition of who can do the best and he keeps kissing you while you're playing the games so you lose your focus. He teases you each time and promises to let you win the next time. He doesn't, and it's all in good fun until you whine about him being too competitive. He just kisses you again and makes it up to you by taking you for a night-time joyride before stopping at a petrol station, where you both buy convenience store snacks and lie on his car roof, talking about everything.
"Look at all the pretty stars up there. I think you shine way brighter..."
a/n: happy valentines' day to all of my loves โก !
pairing: ot8!skz x ed!reader
summary: when a once-strong light burns out, someone must relight it.
genre: idol! au, lots of comfort, angsty. mentions of ed, purging, skipping meals, throwing up, self-consciousness, hypervigilance, mentions of reader having a period (it doesn't happen dw) also . . . i'm well aware the title for reader in this one is a little bit primitive but that's the best way i could describe the fic mbmb
a/n: eat, eat, you EAT <3 div by @seulzitos
"Y/n, come and eat!"
You turn towards your opened bedroom door, looking with mild displeasure at Changbin. He can tell you're not pleased with the interruption.
Setting your pen down and rather fiercely slamming your laptop, you move to the door and attempt to push it shut, only to be blocked by Changbin's firm, solid frame.
"Move," you hiss at him. "Let me work."
He gazes at you coolly, his hair fluffy and messy, large black glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose.
"It's almost half past eight, Y/n. Eat any later than this and you'll feel sluggish in the morning. You've been shut up in your room for too long now. Please?"
You shake your head stubbornly. "Five more minutes."
Changbin actually laughs then. "You said that three hours ago. Take a break."
"No." Your feeble argument does nothing to persuade him. In reality, you'd just been biding your time in your room until everyone went to sleep so you wouldn't have to eat.
His gaze narrows. "I'm gonna tell Chan-hyung if you don't come and eat something. Please don't make me do that. You know how he gets."
You groan so loudly you think the entire dorm hears it. Storming back into your room, you messily reorganize a few papers before grudgingly following Changbin into the dorm kitchen. Your heart pounds harder with every step you take.
Stupid. You really thought no one would notice.
Entering the kitchen, you see most of the boys already seated. Jisung and Jeongin are busy fighting over a piece of fried chicken, Minho and Felix looking on in amusement. Seungmin is on his phone, minding his own business at the end of the table, and Han and Chan are discussing some 3RACHA schedule adjustments for the next week, eating in rather a civilised manner compared to the other members. Hyunjin comes out of the kitchen holding a couple of extra plates, and he sets them down just as Changbin pushes you gently towards the group.
You exhale and sit down next to Felix, who's busy digging his way through a container of noodles. There's been no time lately to cook since schedules have been so busy, and Chan finally gave in when the members pleaded to have takeout for the fifth time after dance practice.
Not you. You disappeared as soon as the practice session ended. You've been so isolated lately that it almost feels strange to be around the members, to watch their antics and listen to their bickering. And normally, being around them would fill you with energy and you would gladly join in, but something inside you tells you to hold back and be quiet. Keep your head down, eat as little as possible, repeat.
Again and again and again.
The thoughts hang heavy in your mind as you're handed a plate. Gulping, you spoon out the smallest possible portion that you can handle without the others noticing the size of it. It's barely half a plate.
"Y/nnie!" Hyunjin calls. "Aren't you gonna eat more? You've been working harder than old man Chan-hyung lately."
Chan lightly slaps the boy upside his head and detaches the piece of fried chicken from within Jeongin and Jisung's shared grip. He lightly chides them and their bickering stops momentarily, hunger taking over pettiness. For the time being, anyway.
Hyunjin has managed to draw everyone's attention to your plate and it's immediately filled with several more portions, the boys chiding you affectionately and heaping more food onto the ceramic. The sight of it makes you want to throw up, and you fight the sudden surge of anger rising in your chest. You want to throw the plate at Hyunjin's face.
But you don't, so you sit and seethe as the boys settle down to eat, munching through sides and conversing cheerily with each other. You feel none of the joy of sharing a good meal with friends; just a cold, dead numbness that makes you feel like a disconnected power plug compared to all the others. You watch them eat platefuls without blinking, without caring, and part of you wishes you could do the same, but it's too much to ask.
Besides, you think, looking down at your plate, it's for the better. Hunger will keep me sharp.
You bite your lip and take tiny, tiny mouthfuls of the food; barely even forkfuls while you try and make up an excuse to leave the table. You could pretend that something urgently needs working on; the new choreo, maybe? No... Minho will force you to sit and eat before you leave.
Or you could say you feel sick, but you don't have a temperature or any physical ailments, and you've been fine since this morning. Not really an option either.
You could also just sit and eat like a normal human being, but the last thing you want is a full stomach, or a stomach with anything in it. And you've already tried purging and it's too messy and loud, so that's out of the question too.
You think about putting on some theatrical display of feeling sick or overtired but you just don't have the energy. And if you get up and just leave, all of them will come and pester you. The last thing you want right now is to talk about it.
Felix nudges you lightly and you almost shoot him a glare, but you reign it in. It's Felix.
"You feeling, okay, Y/n?" He asks quietly, smiling. "You look a little pale."
You thank your stars, and Felix. He's just given you an opportunity to escape. You feign a slow, tired expression.
"Yeah," you say quietly. "I just- I feel a bit sick."
His expression changes to one of affectionate concern and he places a hand over your forehead. "You don't feel warm... maybe it's because you're working too much that you feel sick."
You groan inwardly just as Chan looks your way, checking up. He raises an eyebrow in mild concern and you wince a little, signalling that you want to leave. You feel confident for a minute that he'll let you leave, because he always says yes, understanding that the bickering and noise gets too much for you sometimes. But he just shakes his head and points to your plate, mouthing "Eat.".
He. Shakes. His. Head.
You almost gape and consider getting up anyway, but the prospect of him finding everything out is almost too much to bear. The thought of being exposed makes shame burn through your veins, though it hasn't even happened, and you begin to feel the familiar, heavy inferiority settle in your gut like a teary, reprimanded child.
There's one last, desperate resort.
"I'm going to the bathroom," you murmur to Felix. "I think I got my period."
He nods, and you hope that Chan doesn't call you out as you stand and begin to walk away, every nerve tense. Thankfully, he doesn't, and you make it to your bedroom without trouble, shutting the door heavily behind yourself.
You open the door to the bathroom and immediately step on the scale, just to check that nothing's added itself on. You exhale a sigh of relief at the sight of the numbers decreasing just slightly.
Phew.
You lock the bathroom door and sit on the cold tiles, waiting. You can kill time for a while and then pretend to fall asleep on your bed. No way the boys will tell you off when they find out you just happened to fall asleep due to your consistent early schedules.
You sigh and reach into one of the drawers, pulling out a pad. Ripping the item off of the patterned plastic, you fold the sticky tabs back in and tuck in back in the drawer. You throw the plastic in the bin, making sure to run the tap for a few seconds so it looks like you've put a pad on and washed your hands. Felix uses your bathroom sometimes too because Hyunjin takes so long in their shared one, so you have to keep up the guise of the sudden arrival of a period.
Sighing, you open the bathroom door and are met with Chan. Your heart drops out of your chest and flies out the window entirely.
"C-chan," you stutter feebly, pressing a hand to your chest. "You scared me."
"Sorry," he says quietly. "Felix told me you thought you got your period. Are you feeling okay?"
You nod. He has no idea about what's going on, and the thought makes you feel a sort of twisted pride at the realisation.
"Do you need anything?" he asks. Ever the leader.
You shake your head, risking the next sentence. "I'm gonna lie down for a while, though..."
"Do you want me to bring you something to eat?"
You think before responding, the thoughts flashing through your head quick as lightning. If you say yes, he'll being food and expect the plate to be finished when he comes to collect it from your room. If you say no, he'll get suspicious.
"Yes, please," you say weakly, even though the mere thought of ingesting something makes you want to throw up.
Chan nods and you lie down on the bed, fighting the urge to just spill everything to him. But you can't, so you stay quiet and watch as Chan brings your plate from the table and sets it gently on the bedside.
You expect him to leave, but he doesn't. He sits down on the end of the bed, and your nerves begin to fray a little, feeling irritated that he won't just leave you alone.
If that wasn't enough, you suddenly notice that the faint noises from the members in the kitchen are gone, replaced with a dull, eerie silence. You feel a bit sick until you spot familiar faces lingering near the doorway of your room, their silhouettes visible against the frame of light spilling from the hallway.
"Y/n," Chan says quietly. A cold dread sits in your stomach, chilling you to the stomach. You know exactly what's coming.
"I'm sorry," you blurt out before he can continue.
Chan doesn't even look surprised, and he runs a hand through his hair just as Changbin moves into the room, sitting on the bed next to him. He places a hand on your thigh.
A sinking feeling takes hold of your gut.
They already knew.
Chan starts to talk. "Y/nnie, we know what's been going on. You're not in trouble, okay?"
You groan. "Well, now I feel like I am."
Changbin can't help but chuckle a little, though it's quieter than his usual laugh. "We didn't stop you to begin with because we didn't want you to feel like we were keeping tabs on you."
"And we thought it was something you could handle on your own," Chan adds quietly. "It was wrong of us to stand by and let you do this to yourself."
"We're sorry, Y/n," Hyunjin adds from the doorway. "We thought we were helping by forcing you to eat, but clearly not. And I'm sorry for drawing attention to how much you were eating earlier."
A hot tear spills over the brim and burns a line down the soft skin on your cheek. "Why are you all apologising? I shouldn't have done it, I just felt so low and I couldn't bring myself to eat, and-"
This time it's Jeongin who moves to sit next to you on the bed, and he coos at you lightly, quieting you. "It's okay, Y/n. Most of us know how that feels. But the thing is, you don't have to lie to us. We'll never say anything judgmental to you about it."
You nod tearfully and let Chan stroke your hair lightly, the warmth helping to soothe the storm inside your head.
"Would it help if you could eat alone?" He says quietly. "When most of us were trainees, we weren't used to eating so much in front of others, so most of us ate separately from each other until we felt more confident. Would that help?"
You nod.
"Besides, if you do that," Changbin adds jokingly, "One day, you'll be able to stuff your face like we do."
For the first time in you don't know how long, an involuntary laugh bubbles out of your chest, quite unexpectedly, and for the first time, it feels right.
a/n: no one is allowed to cry on this 9th member fic like last time
Your fic about safe is so amazing I'm inlove with it?? Could you do a similar one but with daddy issues like you're dating Han or Chris (idm which you pick) and you sometimes worry he'll leave you + Ur own issues, tw? Bipolar and depression? Whatever makes you comfortable to do at least
aha thank you so much ! i just titled this one 'depressed reader' but all of the main details are in the descriptions below >< also i couldn't decide between writing chan or han so i just kind of wrote both lol . . . hopefully this one brings you some comfort too, anon <3
pairing: bang chan x depressed!reader
summary: watching chan with one of his members makes everything you've felt lately rise to the surface.
genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort at the end, depression, hinting to bipolar disorder, heavy descriptions of relationship issues (i made it sort of vague so it applies to a lot of scenarios), descriptions of ed, deprecating and negative thoughts, breakdowns, attachment issues, chan is the sweetest most understanding person in the whole world, jisung is mentioned multiple times in this fic
a/n: sending love to all my readers ! you are all soso appreciated <3. divider from @ianrkives
You hesitantly open the door to the studio after knocking twice. When there's no reply, you quickly step inside and blink. The room is pretty much dark, the only source of light coming from a dim standing lamp in the corner.
Chan is seated at his desk, hunched over the soundboard, with a pair of headphones clasping either side of his head. You can barely see him in the dark, only his face, hands, and the column of his throat visible out of the baggy black clothes he always likes to wear.
He doesn't look up as you enter and then quietly shut the door, too focused on the wavy, lilting lines and sequences of the song production software in front of him. You sigh softly and walk up to him, coming from the side so you don't startle him. Placing your bag down on the small table before the sofa, you place a couple of hesitant fingers on the arm of his chair.
"Channie?" You say quietly.
He's still squinting at the screen, somehow so focused he doesn't even see you right next to him. Or maybe it's the light from the screen; when you stare at a device for so long in the dark, it gets difficult to see anything else.
But he suddenly seems to sense your movement, and he must have realised it was you, because he wraps an arm around your waist and gently pulls you closer.
"Hi, baby," he murmurs, not taking his eyes off the screen. His gaze is focused and almost intense as he scrutinizes every soundbar and beat of the music. You bite your lip.
You begin to worry a little then; have you disturbed him from his work? Maybe you shouldn't have come, or at least sent him a text telling him you were coming to the company studio. Maybe he would be more comfortable if you just left him alone.
Before your thoughts can descend on your head like a static black cloud, Chan finally slips off his headphones, leaning back in his chair with a heavy exhale. His arm is still around your waist and so he tugs you with him a little bit, eyes roaming over your face as he stretches.
"Sorry," he says, sighing contentedly as his back pops a little. "Got so caught up, didn't realise I'd be here so late."
"It's okay," you say quietly. "I figured."
Chan catches the hint of sadness creeping into your tone and he pulls you onto his lap, coiling strong arms around your torso. His unruly, ruffled curls tickle the naps of your neck and you squirm, letting out an involuntary giggle. Though the sound is happy, it immediately fills you with a creeping feeling of disgust, and you reproachfully close your mouth.
Chan doesn't seem to notice; he seems rather content to just keep you on his lap. He's absentmindedly singing something, and you stand up off of his lap suddenly, brushing yourself off. For some unknown reason, you begin to feel a bit embarrassed, like you used to feel around Chan when you didn't know him too well.
The man in question sits up a little straighter in his chair, smiling at you. "How was your day, baby?"
"Good," you say a little curtly. You're not sure where the tone is coming from, and you shove the feeling down before you can say something in a way you'd regret.
Chan hums thoughtfully and pokes you lightly in the stomach. "Just good, hmm? Usually I'd get a lot more than that... are you okay?"
"Yes," you say quietly, even though you feel anything but. You're grateful for the darkness then, because it means Chan can't see the tears beginning to prickly hotly at the corners of your eyes. You keep your voice strong and fight the urge to sniffle so as not to alert him. "Just had a long day. You?"
Saying those sentences almost makes you break.
Chan can never know what it's like; how it feels to be brushed off and ignored and attacked by someone who is supposed to love you. To feel like you don't really matter, or that your thoughts and ideas and dreams are just that; useless, empty words inside your head. And to be constantly reminded of how little your worth is, to the point where you're not sure what love is, or what it looks like.
Chan will never understand; he had a completely normal childhood, with a completely normal family and upbringing, and he's normal. Normal in the way that he has people to turn to, people who love and support him, and he's normal in the way that he doesn't scrutinize his own actions every single second of every single day.
And he will never know what it's like to be struggling with something to the point where it all just builds up inside your head like a messy pile of bricks. Where it all weighs down heavy on your mood and sends clouds of dust into the air, distorting and warping your emotions.
So far you've been able to control your mood swings around him; you'd succeeded in making Chan think that you're a person who likes to sleep a lot. In reality you just lie down and keep your eyes and mouth shut so you don't end up acting hypomanic or have outbursts at him. At least it's working; you would much rather keep it all inside than bare the most vulnerable parts of yourself to someone who might decide to turn away and leave you because of it.
You've learnt that keeping those thoughts and emotions inside is better, because then at least people stay. For some time, anyway. Lately you've been feeling like you're biding your time, waiting until the day where Chan finds out everything and decides to do what's best for himself.
When he decides to leave you.
"...And then Han decided he was going to try and do his makeup himself all of a sudden, and of course it was a whole mess. I had to clean sparkly highlighter out of his mouth. I mean, how does that even happen?"
You blink. Chan has been talking this whole time while you've been zoned out of your mind, pitifully burying yourself in your struggles. You climb out of the pit but for a moment and nod along, though he still can't see you because of the dark. You hope that he's just been talking about Han the whole time and not anything else, because if you missed something, Chan will definitely know something's wrong. You inwardly curse yourself for making a habit out of replying to every event and topic that comes out of Chan's mouth.
"Does he not know you guys have perfectly good stylists for that?" You murmur, carding a hand through his fluffy hair.
He sighs exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. "Apparently not."
You feel the slightest hint of mirth warming your heart as you notice the tips of Chan's rough, calloused fingers covered in the faintest hint of sparkles. But it quickly disappears, replaced by a cold, dead numbness that seems to encapsulate your whole being. Like icy water.
"Anyways," Chan stretches again, standing up. "How come you're here and not at home?"
Slightly taken aback at the blunt statement, you stutter a little. Chan's eyes go wide and he shakes his hands frantically in front of himself. "N-not like that! I'm glad you're here, it's just that it's really late and I thought you would be asleep by now..."
You blink at him, and then at the clock. He has a point; the white LEDs on the display read 1:43 am. Normally you'd be passed out in bed at this time.
"Couldn't sleep," you say. "I missed you."
And it's true. You did miss him. But suddenly you're looking straight through Chan to someone else and saying that last sentence to him instead. You clench your fists.
"Aww," Chan whines cutely, pulling you into a hug. "My baby. I missed you too. This new song track is killing me."
You pull back from the hug and kiss him on the cheek, partly because kissing Chan makes him go all red, and if you let him hug you any longer, you'll probably break down.
Chan does go red and you poke him lightly in the side, teasing gently. He chuckles and jerks away as you walk to the low table and pick up a bag. "I brought food."
"Oh, you're the best," Chan dives for the bag and eagerly digs through, clumsily kissing your cheek as he pulls the lid off one of the takeout containers. He sits down on the couch before pulling out a pair of chopsticks from the bag and heaping a mouthful of the food. He groans loudly. "This is so good."
"Tastes better after work, doesn't it?" You sit down next to him and lean back, looking at the ceiling. You cross your arms over your stomach to keep it quiet.
Chan nods eagerly and holds out his chopsticks. "Say ahh, Y/n."
You shake your head ruefully but Chan insists, moving closer. Relenting, you open your mouth and feel the warmth of the food against your tongue. It tastes so good, and for a second, you think about asking for more, but you realise that Chan needs it more. After all, he's been working all night.
Besides, if you ask for more of his food, he might think you're being greedy and look at you that certain way that someone else does.
In disgust.
You know in your heart that Chan would never do these sorts of things, but the doubt nags consistently at your consciousness, tugging your mood one way and then your emotions the next. The constant change between feelings is almost giving you whiplash and you exhale, closing your eyes and leaning back into the couch.
"Baby?"
"Mm," you say without opening your eyes.
"Is everything okay?" You hear him setting down his chopsticks, feel the tiny thud through the table as he sets the already-empty container down gently. Your heart drops to your stomach.
Keep it together. He doesn't know anything.
You sigh and sit up, your heartstrings twinging. "Just a lot to think about lately. Why?"
Chan nods, leaning back into the couch next to you. "It's just that you've been really quiet lately. I was wondering if something was going on..."
He ends his reply on a sort of question, like he's expecting you to open up to him about everything at once. You almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of it. How could he possibly expect you to do something like that? And so easily too...
You inwardly scoff. Nice try. You're not getting anything out of me, Chan. Better you don't know anyway. I know you'll change your mind about me.
But your heart takes control of your mouth, and maybe it's the constant sense of longing you seem to have around Chan, but you want to open up to him. Tell him everything, about your terrible past and terrible experiences, and all you are because of it. And a sudden, lingering sense of hope makes you believe that even after you tell him all of it, he'll stay.
Even if it's just for a moment.
"I, um.. I just had an argument with someone," you say vaguely. And it's not entirely the truth. But it's not exactly a lie either. The words shouted at you earlier flash through your mind, white and hot and painful. Like a fresh cut, a harsh, swift slice too deep and sudden to process. Where, for a moment, there's nothing, until the blood starts filling the white gap and then spilling over, like a gruesome parody of tears.
Chan turns to face you on the couch. "Argument? About what?"
You shift a little uncomfortably. Now you have to tell him. "About- just whatever."
"It's not whatever, Y/n," he says firmly. "Not if it's making you this upset."
And maybe it's the sudden realisation that Chan is so normal, with his normal family and mind and life that you feel a raging pang of jealousy fill you up from your toes to your head. You huff and turn away.
"It's nothing," you grit your teeth, fighting not to spit venom.
Stop it, Y/n. It's not his fault.
Chan blinks in surprise at your slightly harsh response but doesn't push you any further. You don't look at him, but you hear him sigh and get up to toss the empty takeout container in the trash. Your heart sinks and you wait for him to turn around and chide you for being so rude and stubborn. After all, he was just trying to help.
But he doesn't. He sits back down on the couch, and looks up at the ceiling, so that you two are lying next to each other in the exact same position. He doesn't talk, either.
You both sit in deafening silence.
You're grateful when the door opens with a haphazard bang and Han walks in, clad in an oversized grey hoodie and sweats. He's clutching a notebook in his hands, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose. You know the story Chan told earlier was true because you can see smears of sparkly highlighter high on his cheekbones. He doesn't seem to be aware of the time, nor the dark state of the room, or the fact that you're so tense your shoulders feel like concrete.
You're grateful for the interruption until he walks over to Chan and promptly sits in his lap. Han murmurs a few lyrics to him, who seems unfazed by the sudden action, and questions about what he thinks could be changed with the song words. Chan replies quietly and his gaze flicks to you in the dimness of the room, but you just shrug, saying you don't mind.
But sitting there, watching Han sit so quietly and comfortably in Chan's lap makes your heart pang for some reason. He wasn't afraid, didn't ask if it was okay, just sat right down and made himself comfortable. Because you know for a fact Chan lets him do this.
And maybe it's the way Chan strokes an absentminded finger down Han's shoulder, or the way he speaks so softly, or the way it's so reminiscent of someone taking care of their child, but you find your eyes brimming with hot tears by the time Han gets up and leaves.
Chan turns to you, about to say something about the lyrics of the new track, but he stops short. A look of worry comes over his expression.
He scoots closer, placing a warm hand on your arm. "Baby? Are you okay?"
All you can do is shake your head, your eyes scrunching up as you fall into his arms. Chan holds you close, one hand cradling your head against his chest like you're the most precious thing in the whole world. Little do you know, to him, you are.
You sob. The reality of everything comes crashes down on you and all you can do is wail and hiccup into Chan's warm, solid chest. You expect him to push you away by the time the tears have soaked through his shirt, but he doesn't. He holds you close and rocks you gently, shushing you and cooing as he wipes hot, sticky streaks off your cheekbones.
You can't help but cry harder. Your eyes almost sting from how hard you've scrunched them up, and your hands ball in the back of Chan's hoodie like it's a lifeline. And it is. You feel that if you let go, you might fall and never return.
"I'm here," you hear Chan whispering through the mess. "I'm here."
Again and again he says it, and every time he does, your tears flow a little slower, and he keeps saying it until your breakdown has reduced itself to a fit of hiccups and messy sniffles. Still he doesn't push you away, or snap at you to get over it, or that your tears mean nothing. He just sits and holds you.
When you finally look up, Chan is smiling gently, reassuringly, though a little sadly. He sees the look in your eyes and knows you don't want to talk about it, so he sits and rocks you softly on his lap. You squeeze your eyes shut and heave in a rocky breath.
Please just keep holding me, you beg him silently. Just for a while.
And he does. And he doesn't let go, not even when you whimper into his shoulder and soak the juncture of his neck with your misery. He kisses the salty wetness away and strokes the pads of his fingers across your face, where the skin is red and sticky.
"I love you," he whispers.
"I'm sorry," you cry. "I can't get it all out of my head, and- it's too much, and I can't-"
"Shh, baby. I've got you, okay? Just breathe for me."
You heave in a few breaths and continue clinging to him. He feels so warm and safe. All you want is to be surrounded by him, to breathe him in, have him tell you that he loves you.
He must have read your mind, because he leans close to your ear and whispers firmly.
"I'm not leaving you, yeah? I'm gonna stay right here, hold you til you're better. You mean the world to me, hmm? Do you know that?"
You shake your head sadly.
"Now you do. I'm not going anywhere," he says with such conviction that you almost begin to believe it. He wraps his arms closer around you and kisses your forehead, whispering fiercely.
"I promise."
a/n: masterlist
pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader
summary: skz helps you out when you're struggling with burnout and bad habits.
genre: fluff, idol! au, very angsty, descriptions of eating disorders, destructive habits, mentions of blood, fainting, throwing up (nothing graphic), reader is struggling with lots of thoughts, fluffy ending. read at your own risk.
a/n: i felt like it was time to write something that hits a little closer to home... hopefully it helps some of you out. my dms are always open to talk if you need it, and if you ever feel like reader does, please know that things do get better <3 divider by @iluvrei
The lights are too bright.
You blink harshly, trying to clear your vision of tears. Glancing across, you check to see if the boys have noticed anything. They haven't, too focused on the video of the choreography. They're all dripping with sweat, hair mussed, brows furrowed in concentration, and so are you, but you just can't focus right.
Not even if you tried. Because you can't do anything right.
Minho hums and notes down a couple things before signalling to start the choreography again. You move into your position and place a hand on Jisung's shoulder as you all fan out. The music blasts and leaves high-pitched ringing noises in your ears as you dance.
A hollow pang thuds dully in your stomach but you ignore it, instead focusing on copying Hyunjin's moves and moving into the next part of the song. By this point, you've forgotten the choreography and you want nothing more than to just sit down.
Focus, Y/n. Ignore it.
But you can't, too focused on just staying upright and keeping up with the rest of the boys. Even Felix, who tends to get tired the easiest, is dancing at full power, his eyes fixed on the mirror, adjusting and executing with perfect precision. The sight of it makes you feel even more run down and your temples throb when you stand back up into position for the main chorus.
Your energy finally runs out halfway through the choreo and you simply drop to your knees, hitting them hard on the polished floor. A chorus of groans sound out as Jeongin jogs to the speaker to stop the music.
"Y/n," Hyunjin groans, hands on his knees. Sweat drips from his hair. "We were almost finished, now we have to start again-"
He's cut off as a panting Chan waves his hand dismissively. "Take a break, guys. You okay, Y/nnie?"
You nod tiredly and look down at the floor, trying hard not to cry. That awful sour feeling takes a firm hold on your jaw and you gulp, like there's something stuck in your throat. The rest of the boys pay you no mind, chattering and bickering as they take swigs from water bottles and flick sweat from their hair.
Concert practice has been more than tiring, to say the least. Despite the tiredness and fatigue hanging in the air, the boys seem reasonably cheerful; pushing through with smiles on their faces. But being the youngest member of Stray Kids, there's only so much you can take on before it gets too much. You don't remember the last time you slept for more than four hours or ate a proper meal.
So while the others begin to move back into position, you stay on your hands and knees on the floor, gasping for air and feeling that terrible hollow pang gnaw at the lining of your stomach. A headache settles firmly between your eyes and your vision blurs, and it takes all your strength to even breathe.
Don't cry, you tell yourself harshly.
By now, Chan is kneeling beside you, a hand on your back. He knows how hard you've been working, especially since you just joined the production side of things, and he whispers a few reassuring phrases before standing up and offering you a hand.
Your eyes follow him as he rises from the floor, and a sudden burst of irritation shoots through you like lightning. Swatting his hand away and then immediately feeling terrible and selfish for it, you stand and brush yourself off, walking away without a word.
Chan stares after you just as Felix walks up.
"Is she okay?" The younger boy whispers.
Chan shrugs, brows furrowing in concern. "I don't know, Lix. I think she's just stressed with all the concert preparation."
"I mean," Felix begins as the music starts to play again, "She is the youngest of us. Maybe it's getting too much for her, hyung."
Maybe, Chan thinks as he moves into his position, watching as you do the same.
.
The rest of the day is uneventful; you spend most of it running between photoshoots, vocal lessons, rehearsals, and dress fittings for the upcoming concerts. It's all a blur, and by the time you open the door to the Minsung dorm, you're exhausted.
Minho and Jisung are already back from practice, since you'd opted to stay longer to perfect the choreo. Your body had been against it but you pushed through anyway, and you're beginning to slightly regret it as you almost stumble while shutting the door behind yourself.
Minho is in the kitchen, chopping something up; Jisung is lounging on the couch, watching something on his phone. The air smells rich and meaty, and normally you'd sneak into the kitchen for a taste of whatever Minho is preparing, but the singular thought of it makes you feel tense and nauseous.
You opt to grab only a new bottle of water before heading to your room. Minho looks up in surprise; he had been preparing to fight off a nosy, hungry Y/n, but you walk straight past him without even a hello. You do the same to Jisung and shut your bedroom door quietly, sinking down against it without a word.
You feel terrible about ignoring them; after all, they're your friends, but you just don't have it in you today to talk. Or dance or sing, or do anything at all. Everything feels dull and grey save for the hot tears that begin to soak the damp, musky fabric of your shirt.
Deciding to shower, you pick yourself up from the floor after a while and move sluggishly to the bathroom. You scrub until your skin is red and tingling and pull harshly at your hair while brushing it out before slipping on the first clothes you see in the drawer; a hoodie and sweats, all black.
Collapsing onto your bed, you open your phone and immediately regret it; the blue glare makes your head throb so harshly that you have to fight to urge to lean over the bed and throw up. You cover your mouth just in case, though there isn't even anything in your stomach to warrant the action anyway. You take a weak swing of water as a remedy and collapse back into the pillows, feeling exhausted but not tired enough to sleep.
Your stomach rumbles and you think briefly about sneaking into the kitchen after Minho and Jisung have gone to sleep, but you hold yourself back and roll over, gritting your teeth. Someone knocks on the door.
"Y/nnie!" Jisung calls from the other side of the door. "Come and eat something."
You ignore him, hoping that he'll think you've fallen asleep. You check the time; it's definitely late enough for that to be true. You wait with bated breath until you hear footsteps walking away.
You stomach growls more insistently and you press a disapproving hand over it, quieting the pangs as you turn over to try and sleep.
You can go one more day.
.
The next morning, you wake up early and decide to head to practice before Minho and Jisung can keep you back and make you eat something. You know for sure they've noticed the change in your eating habits, so you take a plate and break up a piece of toast, sprinkling crumbs so it looks like you've eaten. You throw the bread into the bin and leave your plate on the table before leaving.
Opening the door to the dance studio, you notice Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Seungmin all up early too, rehearsing the choreo, messing about, or talking. Or, in Hyunjin's case, all three. You duck to the side and head to the opposite side of the room, as far away from Chan as possible.
Him being here isn't good; you know for sure, after how exhausted you were yesterday, he'll try and check in with you. And it wouldn't be hard for him to decipher what's been happening; the pale pallor of your face, the bones of your wrists more prominent than before, and of course the constant sluggishness, fatigue, and dizziness that you've forced yourself to endure for the past few days.
You busy yourself with unnecessarily reorganizing the items in your bag, trying to ignore how bright the lights are. It feels like a spotlight.
"Hi, Y/n."
You look up to see Jeongin standing next to you, smiling in a white shirt and basketball shorts. His hair is ruffled, and somewhere in the cold, dead depths of your hardly-beating heart, you realise it's because the boys have been messing it up with their constant affection of the maknae. The thought makes you feel nothing. You are numb.
You don't reply, instead giving him a curt nod and picking up your waterbottle. You walk and place it on the cabinets against the back wall just as the others filter into the room. Jeongin shrugs and decides to leave you alone, apparently unbothered by your lack of response. Maybe he thought you were just tired.
Good, you think grimly. I don't want him to notice, nor do I care if he does. Just leave me alone.
Your eyes flicker to Jisung and Minho as they move to put their belongings down. Jisung immediately goes off to mess with Felix, who is still sleepily waddling across the floorboards to Changbin. You look away, but not before your eyes catch Minho's. He locks his gaze with you and raises a pointed eyebrow, silently questioning.
You look away quickly, gritting your teeth so hard you swear you can taste blood. Your heart jerks and starts, sending a racing thud reverberating through the hollow shell of your body.
He knows. He knows. He knows.
You see him begin to move towards you in your peripheral and you exhale when Chan claps his hands, moving to start the practice. Despite how much your head hurts, and the fact that you can hardly see let alone dance, you're grateful for the interruption, and dedicate your entire focus to the choreography.
Minho eyes you during a slower part of the routine but you don't look at him. Or anyone. The most you do is glance at Seungmin to check if he's placed where he needs to be before you move past him to the middle. Your vision deteriorates and drowns into dizzy black spots with every movement, but you push on.
Your head pulses dully with an aching pain and there's simply no energy left in your body. You grit your teeth and keep going, trying to will strength from within.
I can last til the end of the choreo. Just a little longer-
You exhale sharply and suddenly then, as if you've been punched hard in the gut. Your vision clouds over completely and you briefly panic as you can't see anything, but you find your limbs still moving. The last thing you know before you pass out is the feeling of the cold, polished floor against your cheek, a dull thud against your head, and a panicked yell from one of the members.
You close your eyes.
.
"Y/n. Y/nnie, wake up..."
"Is she okay?"
"Did anyone see what happened?"
"Y/n!"
Groggily, you open your eyes, and immediately hiss from the glare of the bright white lights above you. You're lying on the floor, where you dizzily remember yourself falling. You try and weakly lift a hand to cover your eyes, until Chan's head and broad shoulders moves into view above you, blocking it completely.
You exhale a small sigh of relief, even though the swimming black dots in your vision are making it hard for you to see anything at all. Your head throbs even worse than before; you must have hit it before you fell and passed out.
Even through all of that, you can see the look on Chan's face; half concern, the other half an equal mix of affection and sternness. You can't do anything but let out a weak groan as someone kneels down next to you, pressing something cold to the back of your neck.
"Take it easy," you hear Changbin saying from above you. You feel a pair of strong arms lift you to a sitting position and the movement makes a swelling pang of dizziness shoot through your skull like hot lightning. You feel sick and feverish.
"Y/n," you hear Chan saying through the haze. "What happened?"
You can't hold back the tears from spilling down your cheeks, however dehydrated you are. They just keep coming and someone else wipes them away with a gentle brush of fingers.
This is your fault. You can't even keep up with them and now you're wasting their time by making them take care of you. Way to go, Y/n. Absolutely pathetic.
That same rush of irritation shoots through you again and you push Changbin's hands away from your shoulders. "Leave me alone."
He looks surprised but backs off anyway. Your vision clears momentarily and it's then that you notice all of the boys are standing around you, most of them in various stages of concern and confusion. You notice Felix tightly clutching Hyunjin's hand in worry, Jisung biting at his lip. Jeongin looks upset too, and even Seungmin has the decency to look mildly put out.
"Why aren't any of you dancing?" You say, confused.
"Because," Hyunjin puffs out dramatically, "One of our members decided to die in the middle of the choreography."
Ignoring the younger's comment, Chan places a gentle hand on your thigh. "Y/nnie, please talk to us. We're all worried. What happened?"
You scoff weakly and push Chan's hand away too, even though his warm, solid touch is comforting. He pulls back, looking mildly hurt, and you instantly kick yourself for it. It's Chan. Why did you have to go and do that?
"Nothing," you say. "I'm fine."
He lets out an exasperated groan and there are a few protests from the rest of the group. "Y/n, you literally collapsed on us. And you don't look well at all. Have you been sleeping lately?"
"Yes." Lie.
"Have you been pushing yourself too hard?"
"No." Lie.
"When was the last time you ate something?"
"This morning." Also a lie.
"We're not dumb, Y/n," Minho interrupts from where he's crouching near you. "I mean, we are sometimes, but we're not clueless, especially when it comes to you. Please let us in."
I can't.
"Okay," you whisper weakly, because you don't have the energy to argue. You feel so incredibly embarrassed and humiliated.
Chan sighs and hands you a bottle of water. You take a swig before putting it down.
"Practice is off, everyone," he says. "Let's regroup tomorrow. Good work."
"What are you doing?" You say on an exhale.
"Taking you home," he says firmly. "There's no way you're going to keep practicing after this. You need to rest and eat well for a while before you can join back in."
Your heart thuds hollowly in your chest. "But-"
"No buts. Please, Y/n. It's okay if you're not doing well, and we don't have to talk about it if you aren't ready, but we're not going to stand by and let you suffer like this, yeah?"
"Plus," Felix adds softly as he sits down next to you, "It's no fun when you're not around, so hurry and get better so you can join in again."
You look to Chan, defeated tears welling up in your eyes. You spot the slightest waver in his expression, but it remains firm and he helps you stand shakily to your feet without a word.
Minho walks over just as Jisung folds you into his arms, kissing the crown of your head.
"I'm sorry," you whimper to no one in particular.
"Shh, it's okay," Minho says, "Let's just get you back home and then you can rest, okay?"
You nod and let them lead you out the door.
.
The tangy fruitiness of the juice sends little bursts of flavour down your throat, and you sip a little more before placing the glass on your bedside table. You're looking out the window, though the curtains are drawn, and your hair is a mess, having slept ruffled against the pillow for around three hours now. The sun is beginning to set.
Jisung comes into the room, followed by Chan. You look towards them and sit a little higher up on the pillows as Jisung smooths a hand over your forehead.
"How are you feeling, Y/n?" Chan asks carefully as he sits on the bed.
"Better," you say quietly, even though certain thoughts still linger in the back of your mind.
"It's good that you slept a while," he continues. "Looked like you needed it."
"Yeah."
The room is silent for a while, and Jisung lies down next to you, his face pressed into your thigh. He lets out a muffled happy sound just as Minho comes into your room, holding a tray of soup.
He sets it down on the bedside table along with a banana, a glass of water, and a small packet of your favourite sweets before shamelessly flopping down onto the bed, making himself comfortable. Chan sighs before his hand reaches out to cover yours, which is picking at the blanket.
"Y/n," he says softly. "It's okay if you're struggling."
You shake your head, though what you're disagreeing with, you're not sure.
"It's okay," Chan says again. "It can be a lot, I know. And it's completely alright if you just need to take a break, yeah? That's allowed. But please don't punish yourself for it. You do so well and work so hard, and I know it feels wrong when you don't shine as much as you want to."
You stay silent, the sorrow beginning to weigh down on you again.
"Y/nnie," Chan says gently. "You can talk to us, okay? If you're struggling to take care of yourself, or if it's all just getting too much, come to us. We're all in the same boat."
"More like stuck with us in the same boat," Minho snickers from his position on top of Jisung.
Chan slaps the boy's thigh without taking his gaze off you. Ignoring Minho's whine of pain, he leans forward and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The simple gesture is so gentle and reassuring that tears well up in your eyes again, and you thank your stars that Jisung has plenty of electrolyte drinks in the kitchen because of how dehydrated you're becoming because of the crying.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"It's okay, Y/n," Jisung hums from your thigh. "We all have bad days."
"Just please, please come to us if you're not doing well, okay?" Chan says. "We all love you very much, and none of us want you to be struggling alone."
As if the universe has magically decided to prove his point, the door flies open and Hyunjin and Seungmin crash onto the floor, followed by a giggling Jeongin and Felix. Changbin stands disapprovingly behind them.
Chan presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "For goodness' sake."
But his words are drowned out by the mad scramble of the boys clambering onto your bed, heaping themselves on top of you in a mess of bickering, singing, and arguing.
Felix presses his cheek to yours. "I missed you."
You exhale a tiny laugh. "I wasn't even gone a day, Felix."
"I know," he replies earnestly. "But I missed you anyway. I wanted more than anything for you to be okay."
"Me too," Jeongin interrupts indignantly.
"Yeah, me too," Changbin adds matter-of-factly as he makes himself comfy on top of a squashed Hyunjin.
"Say you wanted her to be okay too, Seungmin!" Jisung pokes him hard in the ribs.
All you get in response is a begrudging nod and it makes the rest of the group burst out into laughter. Even Chan can't fight a fond smile.
And even if you're not doing well at the moment, you know in that moment that the rest of the members will always be there to fall back on, and the thought makes you relax, finally, your mind quieting and replacing the hollow feeling in your heart with a solid, steady warmth.
You are safe.
a/n: this was was longer than i anticipated
hello hello sweetheart <3
i heard requests are open and i just really needed a comfort fic with minho? i had a dance production recently. one that was really important to me but my old knee and thigh injury acted up last minute and i physically winced in the middle of my performance. people say they didn't notice it but i did and i just feel like absolute shit over it. maybe minho being a dancer comforting reader about it? i'm sorry this is specific but you write comfort incredibly well. i hope you're keeping well โค๏ธโ๐ฉน
hello <3 oh no, hope you're okay and the injury isn't acting up too much... i'm sure you were great, sho. sometimes we have a way of beating ourselves up for things that people don't even notice. nevertheless, try not to be too hard on yourself, and take care of your body <3
pairing: dancer!lee minho x dancer!reader
summary: you make a mistake during a dance performance and minho comforts you.
genre: angsty, mentions of an old injury acting up, crying, dancer!au, fluffy at the end
a/n: sending love to all my dancer readers. divider by @draculasdaughterrr
You sit down and press a hand to your beating heart. The plastic of the blue chair is cold beneath your thighs and you inhale deeply, trying to still the racing thrum pulsing inside of you.
Looking up, you catch eyes with yourself in the reflection of the wide stylist mirror. In your current state, you're finding it difficult to recognise yourself; all dressed up for the production, two dilated eyes set into a pale face staring back at you.
This is beyond important.
Everything needs to go well, and you find yourself so restless that you get up and begin quietly rehearsing your steps. A hand goes to your leg; you find yourself wondering if the injury will decide to play up during the performance. It has before, and it's never ended well.
But it might not happen this time, you remind yourself firmly, and move into your start position.
There's still half an hour to go, and the dressing room is empty while you rehearse, everyone instead choosing to filter into the wings of the stage to peek out over the audience. Occasionally, someone comes in while you dance by yourself; a dancer who forgot their shoes, or a stylist who came to pick up their set of eyeshadow brushes.
But you ignore them and focus wholly on repeating the steps over and over, and when the time comes to head backstage with the other dancers in your section of the performance, you feel ready.
The excited, glittery buzz coming from everyone in the production quiets as the event officially starts. You wait and watch, preparing to head onstage. You watch the others dancing and notice Minho amongst them, a fellow dancer and friend; you're surprised as you hadn't realised he was helping start the dance off. You'd assumed his part was mainly the middle section, but apparently not.
You allow yourself the brief luxury of watching him for a while; you anticipate every one of his steps, and watch how the gems sewn into the shoulders of his top catch the light, making him look as if he's glowing.
"Y/n," someone whispers behind you. "Come on, we're supposed to be filling in the background. Stop staring at your lover and move."
"He's not my lover," you hiss, but you move anyway, filtering into the background with the other members. The light of the stage hits you suddenly; you float to the right, as the routine goes, and feel the heat of its glare pressing against your skin.
Your heart begins to speed up and then slow as you find yourself becoming more comfortable on stage. You remember every step, executing the moves with a seamless perfection, twisting and turning and jumping on beat every time. A little bubble of joy floats up inside of you and settles happily in your stomach, the way it always does when you dance.
You keep a watchful eye on the front dancers, as they hold your cue for moving to the front. Your solo comes directly after they begin to part down the middle. The first dancer at the front moves, then the second, then the third, and by then you're already moving confidently to begin your solo.
Your heart pounds suddenly as you feel the audience's concentrated gaze on you, but you calmly inhale and focus on your steps, choosing to periodically close your eyes to help refocus. You're not as nervous as you used to be, but there's always that little bundle of nerves that decides to unravel in the middle of a routine.
You exhale and channel all the force from your knees, perfectly completing the first part of your jump combination. You feel a sudden, sharp pain in your knee and your heart rises up, a sick feeling popping the happy bubble in your stomach. Because you know exactly what that pain is.
You spin and continue anyway, choosing to balance the weight on your other leg. Channeling all the energy from your legs, you jump and complete the second jump, but as you land, a terrible searing pain shoots through your leg and you physically wince, your knees almost buckling.
Hissing quietly, you keep dancing and finish your solo, moving towards the back of the stage, where your position is for the finale. You dance as much as you can without overexerting and quickly get into position, dropping to your knees and stretching to the left, the music swelling and then dropping. The audience's applause is deafening but all you can focus on is the sharp stinging pain radiating through your leg and the feeling of failure sitting heavy in your gut like lead. You bite your lip, trying to hold back tears, and strain, holding your position before the dancers at the front begin to get up.
You don't even stay to bow. Hurrying off stage, you limp to the nearest dressing room and slump against a bench, clutching your leg. The pain begins to dwindle after a while and you exhale through your teeth, feeling hot tears spill down your cheeks.
You ruined it. After all that practice, you just had to go and ruin it by wincing in front of everyone. And they all saw it. The audience is probably whispering about it right now.
You hastily scrub tears off your cheekbones as someone opens the door. A large brown eye peeks through hesitantly, followed by a glittering string of diamonds sewn into two broad shoulders.
Minho steps into the dressing room and shuts the door carefully before turning around. There are costumes and various dancer paraphernalia strewn chaotically across the floor, and you watch with a weak smile as he begins to navigate through the mess with a typical dancer's precision. Through your haze of tears and the still-dwindling pain in your leg, you can't help but notice the fact that he's here, that he knew where you were even after you ran off. He must have followed you off stage.
He sits down next to you, adjusting himself against the bench, and folds his legs neatly across each other. He wraps his arms around his legs and thoughtfully traces a diamond on his left shoulder.
"Are you in pain?" He says quietly, not looking at you.
You shake your head, a heavy sigh escaping you as you fully process the absolute mess you made of your solo.
Minho hums and turns to look at you finally. He tilts his head and nudges you ever so gently. You go sideways, just managing to catch yourself with your hand. But you don't mind. To Minho, it's a companiable gesture, the gentle nudge, but he forgets his own considerable strength sometimes.
You sigh again and Minho exhales too. You notice his chest is still rising and falling, rising and falling. He's probably still coming down from the dancer's high. Either that or he's tired.
"You did well, you know," he says, even quieter than before.
You sniff and scrub a hand over your cheekbones again. "It's not that."
"Oh? Then what?"
You fall against the bench, exhaling shakily. "I winced during the jump and everyone saw it. My injury acted up."
Minho blinks. "I was watching you and I didn't see anything. Looked good to me."
Your eyes go wide. That's a big compliment coming from him. But it doesn't lift your spirits the way you imagined it would.
He turns his body to face you. "It's okay, Y/n. Things happen. But you were professional about it and pushed through. You still did your best, and that's all you need to do. I really don't think anyone noticed."
You feel another tear run down your cheek. "But what if they did notice?"
"So?" He says rather bluntly.
You turn to face him, but you're met with the feeling of soft, musky fabric against your cheek. Minho's arm wraps around your shoulders and you exhale, relaxing against his chest. You feel him shift the fabric a little higher so that the diamonds on his shoulders don't rest against your forehead.
"Don't worry," Minho says gently. "You did well, Y/n."
You feel another tear run down your cheek as he pulls back. Your tears look like cracked slivers of crystal against the puffiness of your eyes and you sniff as Minho brushes them away with a thumb.
"Thank you, Min," you say almost inaudibly.
He strokes your hair and then gets up, offering you a hand. He grins, but it's not unkind, rather reassuring and quietly caring. "Let's go and get you an icepack."
You take his hand and stand up.
a/n: feel better sho !
เนเฃญ โญ โ some guidelines . . .
-> warnings will now be posted at the top of each fic to make this post a lil bit neater.
-> comment on the taglist post if you want to be added to my fic taglist !
-> asks and dms are always open !
ot8!skz masterlist here . . .
เนเฃญ โญ โ anons : ๐ชป,
the fast lane (racer!bang chan x racer reader x racer!lee felix) โง (discontinued)
lonely st. (schoolboy!hwang hyunjin x schoolgirl reader) โง (completed)
stupidly perfect | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 (best friend!chan x reader) โง (ongoing)
golden hour - special event (bf!chan x female reader)
he comforts you on your period (bf!chan x female reader)
general fluff headcanons (bf!chan x female reader)
bang chan new years' special - yin and yang (bf!chan x female reader)
electrifying (producer!chan x female 3RACHA producer!reader)
make me (bf!chan x female reader)
hold me (bf! chan x depressed reader)
fendi (bang chan x female!9th member reader)
what you're worth (bang chan x 9th member!reader)
not your doll (bf!bang chan x reader)
star in the making - (idol!bang chan x overworked trainee!reader)
movie nights (bf!lee know x female reader)
opal (bf!lee know x female reader)
general fluff headcanons (bf!lee know x female reader)
rose | part 2 (college partner!lee know x female college student reader)
you did well (dancer!lee know x dancer reader)
keychain - (bf!lee know x reader)
he comforts you on your period (bf!changbin x female reader)
little fighter (husband!changbin x female reader)
insomnia (bf!changbin x female reader)
sunflower (bf!changbin x female reader)
lotion (bf!changbin x female reader)
lamplight (bf!changbin x female reader)
ice cream & rain (bf!changbin x female reader)
gatecrasher undercover spy!changbin x female spy reader)
landscape (bf!hyunjin x female reader)
chrome nails (bf!hyunjin x female reader)
raspberries (bf!hyunjin x female reader)
general fluff headcanons (bf!hyunjin x female reader)
studio (bf producer!han x female producer!reader)
cold (bf!han x female!reader)
instant ramen (bf!han x female!reader)
minty (bf!han x female!reader)
hot soup - (sick bf!han x sick!reader)
a little bit sweeter - (college roommate!han x reader)
i want to understand you (han x female!reader)
galaxy (bf!felix x female!reader)
duvet (bf!felix x female!reader)
haze (bf!felix x female!reader)
always forever (best friend!felix x female bullied!reader)
felix x neko!reader headcanons (bf!felix x female neko!reader)
fall for you (college student!felix x female college student!reader)
floral tea (lee felix x reader)
your warmth (best friend!lee felix x reader with period)
bandaid (bf!seungmin x female reader)
fever (sick bf!seungmin x female reader)
batter up (baseball captain!seungmin x female baseball player reader)
stylist!reader x kim seungmin
bodyguard!seungmin headcanons
recipe (bf!jeongin x female reader)
outfit (bf!jeongin x female reader)
snake (bf!jeongin x female reader)
general fluff headcanons (bf!jeongin x female reader)
that's true (secret bf!yang jeongin x reader)
dividers by @bernardsbendystraws | skz prompt list
pairing: lee minho x reader
summary: you and lee minho, the smartest student on campus, get unexpectedly paired up to work on an assignment
genre: less angsty, mutual pining, college!au, happy ending hehe
a/n: yayy part 2. dividers by @kodaswrld
โ๏ธ prompts: 17. "Why are you looking at me like that?" / 28. "You're looking at me like that again."
skz prompt list | skz masterlist | part 1
The next few days are rather awkward.
You avoid Minho as much as humanly possible; more than once he tries to approach you in the corridors, though unsurely, and you find yourself ducking into the next hallway or stopping to talk to someone so that he won't.
Not that you don't want him to approach. Part of you misses talking to him, though most of what came out of his mouth was teasing remarks and judgmental comments. But he does it in a way that lets you know he doesn't mean it.
You know he doesn't mean it, but after you messed up those few days ago, you're beginning to wonder if he might in the future.
You find yourself glancing his way during lectures, subconsciously reaching for your phone to text him before you take control of yourself and tear your gaze away, shove your phone into a drawer. Keeping distance is the best thing to do right now, even if you do miss him.
But still...
Minho and his pretty necklace, his pretty lopsided smile, although it's rare. But it makes it all the more special. It makes him all the more special.
The part of you yearning to see him wonders if there's a slim chance that he reciprocates what you've begun to find yourself feeling, and it tells you to go and find Minho, talk to him, work things out. Maybe you could play it off, say you were on something, plead that you were tired or that there had just been something on his face.
Which is why you had touched it in the first place, though it was on a whim. You'd stroked those precious few strands out of his eyes, touched his pretty mouth on a whim, your fingers brushing against the perfect mask that Lee Minho never lets slip.
The professor calls your name suddenly and you shoot upright, having previously been slouching on your hand, staring down the rows of lecture seats. He shouts out a question and panic seizes your gut like a vice.
"Y/n, what's the answer to question eight?"
Your eyes flit over the screen at the front; you haven't been listening and none of it makes sense. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, and you feel the gazes of other people becoming more prominent by the minute.
Your gaze catches Minho's by chance; he's sitting at the very front of the lecture hall as per usual, all of his materials lined up meticulously neat on the desks. He mouths an answer to you, subtly holding up three fingers.
"Option three," you blurt out. It must be the right answer because the professor turns away, moving onto the next question. You sag back into your seat with relief.
Minho is still looking at you.
You steal a glance at him again, hoping that he's not looking, but he is. You make to look away in haste but not before you see him point to his notebook, gesturing to you and then back at his book.
Staring down at your own folders and papers, you take your black notebook from under the haphazard mess and flip through it. Minho turns back to the front just as a slip of paper falls from between the pages.
You unfold it. Minho's neat, looping handwriting inks the paper in blue.
Meet me at the library at five o clock.
Absolutely not, you think. You toss the paper onto your desk and lean back. There's no way you're going. You might just come up with an excuse and relay it to someone so you don't have to show up. You look back down at Minho's note. It's fallen the other way and there's writing on the other side. You peer closer.
And don't even think about disappearing or making up an excuse. Come on, Y/n. You're not that busy a person.
You roll your eyes, even though you're smiling. He knows, and the realisation doesn't hit you as hard in the gut as you thought it would have.
Five o clock it is.
โโโ
When you enter the library, you know exactly where to go; Minho's usual spot is always the far corner, several long tables and chairs tucked behind the shelves. As someone who spends a lot of time in the library to begin with, you've often seen Minho by himself at one of the long tables, with his knees tucked neatly over one another as he reads, or his head bent in concentration as he studies.
You make your way there now; and sure enough, there he is. He's sitting perfectly upright, his posture immaculate. Your back hurts just thinking about sitting the way he does.
Yet again, the only movement is coming from his wrist as he writes something in his books, just like he did when you were at his dorm. He doesn't look up as you approach, hovering near the table unsurely. Like he's a wild animal to be tamed.
He is a little bit, you think.
"Minho..." You begin hesitantly, if not only to announce your presence.
"Hello, Y/n," he says quietly. He sets his pen down in one movement and looks up at you. Like he doesn't have energy to spare, so he's mindful of every move. "Sit down."
You laugh nervously as you collapse into a chair near him, one seat away from where he is. You are a walking tornado in the pristine museum that is Lee Minho.
"So, what is this, a therapy session?" You tilt your head at him, trying to break this ice. Shit, this is so awkward.
"No," he says again, matter-of-factly. "You've been avoiding me."
"I haven't," you try feebly.
"All you do is lie, Y/n. To yourself too. Stop it."
His comment cuts you unexpectedly.
It hurts even more because he's right. You lied to him and to yourself. You told yourself that avoiding him was the best thing to do. And in addition, suddenly you're irritated and pissed off because of how calm he is.
"Minho."
His tone softens. "Sorry."
You huff and lean back. It feels like when you were a kid, getting into trouble for talking back.
"Why'd you call me here? You've finished your section of the project, so there's no need for us to work together anymore."
Minho shakes his head. "That's not why I asked you here."
You're quiet. Then, "Why?"
"Y/n, I'm not upset about what happened. It seems you are."
He's talking like a fucking therapist, you think. "I didn't mean to touch you like that, it was just on a whim, I was overtired-"
Minho laughs suddenly, his eyes crinkling. It's a surprisingly pleasant sound. "Did you rehearse that excuse?"
You grumble and attempt to wipe the haughty smile off of your face. He's seeing right through you at every turn. "No."
"Well, does being overtired make people want to be close to each other and touch each others' faces?"
You scoff at him, though your heart is pounding. "No. Stop being stupid."
"I'm not stupid. I'm incredibly smart. And I'm right."
"Sure you are, Min."
You freeze. The nickname slips out almost on habit; countless times during the duration of previous project meetings had you called him that purely to irritate him. At first it was a tease. Now it was almost affectionate.
His usual ticked-off reply doesn't come. He looks at you strangely. Then with a slow, deliberate movement, he gets up and sits down in the chair directly next to you. Several of his papers and pens clatter and drift off the table, but he doesn't flinch, nor notice. He doesn't even blink, his gaze entirely, unbrokenly fixed on you.
You gulp.
"I've had a long day," he says calmly. "I missed my lecture this morning because I was studying for my arts exam, and I wasn't able to talk to you these days either, which made it surprisingly worse. I couldn't sleep last night either."
He says all of this with a pure, almost gentle sort of conviction. Like he's a stranger in an elevator, making a polite comment about the weather to fill the silence. It's raining quite hard today. It's predicted sunnier tomorrow, though.
Your throat is dry and it almost hurts to talk. What do you even say to that?
"Okay."
Minho nods solemnly, the ghost of a lopsided grin on his face. His gaze is implicative, almost a smirk. "I happen to be quite overtired at the moment. Do you know what happens when people are overtired, Y/n? I think you do."
Not for the first time in your life do you curse Lee Minho with the eternal role of 'little shit'.
"No," you whisper, unable to speak any louder. "I don't."
"I told you to stop lying."
"I'm not."
He tilts his head a little more. "You are."
You go silent.
Minho's hand comes up to experimentally touch your cheek. You almost flinch at the unexpected gesture but you force yourself to stay still, not wanting to shatter the charged atmosphere. The pads of his fingers are soft and then he draws them back, bringing them to cover his mouth.
He yawns.
He's doing it on purpose now, you think in exasperation. Trying to make me admit that I wasn't overtired at all when I touched him. Even though he already knows what I was doing.
He leans back in his chair, tilting his head to the other side. At this point he's just teasing. He knows exactly what your intentions are. He's playing it up to frustrate you.
Minho brings one hand to his perfect hair and rifles his fingers through it, gaze never leaving you. He messes it up on purpose and you find yourself almost drawn to him, wanting nothing more to reach out and fix it. His gaze is nothing more than an invitation. At least, that's what you're assuming.
You're so close to him, you could just reach out and brush it away like you did those days ago... so you do. It's as soft as you remember, like pinfeathers between your fingertips, and you card it out of his face in gentle, slow motions, not fixing it completely, busy trying your best to ignore his piercing gaze almost burning through yours.
You hesitantly poke his knee, just checking that he's not an apparition and that this is actually happening. It is. And when you look back up, you feel Minho's presence far closer to you than you did before.
This time, when he tilts his head, it is a gentle question. Yes or no?
You nod shakily.
Minho leans in slowly, eyes flitting to yours, checking every step of the way, before his mouth brushes gently against the curve of your cheekbone. Like a bird's wing brushing your face. Colour floods your cheeks and your face burns rosy as his mouth brushes yours briefly, a little clumsy but full of awkward affection, your eyes closing. Minho presses his forehead to yours for a few seconds and then leans back. You open your eyes.
His hair is a royal mess; you suppose your face is a mirror of his expression. His eyes are still fixed on you, the colour high and flushed on his cheeks, mouth parted. You don't think you've ever seen anything, anyone more beautiful.
Minho has the audacity to grin. To grin.
"I think," he breathes shakily, "that I should be overtired more often."
You let out a shaky laugh. "Yes."
"Y/n?"
"Minho."
"Please stop avoiding me," he says softly. "It was lonely."
You stutter out a response, surprised you're still functioning after he just kissed you. "Okay."
Minho brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "You know that assignment we were working on together?"
You blink, surprised at the sudden change of subject, but you go along with it. You'd handed in your parts together several days ago; you'd scraped through with a decent mark, and Minho, of course, scored with his usual A+. "Yes?"
Minho actually laughs then and you know instantly that it's a sound you want to hear him make for the rest of your life. "I knew you would struggle with it, so I gave you most of the work so that you'd have to come to me for help. We spent more time together because of it."
Your mouth drops open. "Minho, you didn't."
He grins, poking your cheek. "Told you I'm super smart. I pulled an A+ and a hot partner at the same time."
You kick him in the shin.
a/n bonus: i saw this in the tags and i have to admit i laughed