✦ she/her. call me ttokki. 00 liner. bts and skz ults. sfw writer. previously starlost-mochi-x ✦
151 posts
Just wanted to pop in and say hi and thank you for always tagging me in your stuff! Thank you for making me feel so included (JJ from @justsomekpopstuff 💚😊)
that's okay !! i remember you were always one of the first to check out my stuff, so i figured you'd want to keep up :]
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 it’s just very fluffy and sweet
-🪻
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)
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @sillyseob @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627 @jsngprk-vhs @stellasays45 @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca
send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !
what if the 9th member of skz was having a terrible day and just feeling off, like nothing is going well? then, during dance practice she can't focus and can't get the moves right, so the members, stressed, tired and overworked snap at her and say hurtful things. in the heat of the moment she gets emotional and runs off, but later she's hurt, but very understanding and chill. in the end, please make it fluffy. (please leave the reader's age a mystery)
i swear i've seen another fic like this request but maybe it was just a fever dream . anyways . . .
pairing: ot8!skz x distressed!reader
summary: you've all been stretched thin by the latest comeback, and skz catches you on a bad day.
genre: idol!au, reader's age and place in the group is unspecified, ngl skz are pretty mean in this one, mentions of eating and drinking, mentions of blood, bruises, throwing up, feeling dizzy, depression, burnout, exhaustion, reader just really needs a hug tbh
a/n: back in my inconsolably angsty fic writing era
skz masterlist
It was one of those days; the type where you woke up and just knew somehow that things were going to go wrong.
You felt sluggish. Bleary. Dull.
You almost slipped out of bed, your alarm ringing so loudly you were sure you'd woken all of Seoul.
Then, you'd hit your hand on the bedside table trying to turn it off, and then dropped your toothbrush on your foot when you entered the bathroom.
Breakfast had been a fiasco; you'd lost motivation in trying to cook something before practice. Half an Oreo was enough until lunch time, right?
Huffing, you stab the elevator button with a finger, readjusting the bag on your shoulder. Glancing across at the small strip of reflective metal above the button selection, you smooth out your ruffled hair before waiting for the doors to open.
You only just made it to the studio in time; Changbin turns around with a sigh as you whirl around and pull the door shut.
"Took you long enough," he says. "Go sing your lines."
You know he didn't mean to sound angry or irritated; everyone had been stretched thin lately, and you knew he was just tired.
The new comeback was taking a toll on everyone, including Chan (who was sitting at the mixing table and clearly hadn't slept in a week), and Jisung, who was fast asleep on the couch, an arm thrown over his head. His song lyrics glow on his phone, rising and falling on his stomach in tandem with his soft, slow breathing.
Sighing, you drop your belongings on the floor, startling Jisung awake, and shut the door of the recording booth behind yourself. Slipping on the headphones, you wait for the beat before singing several of your lines.
Chan looks at you strangely through the glass. His eyes were dark and baggy. "Try again, Y/n."
Even hearing him say that made you feel like a failure. He hadn't said anything wrong; just told you to rerecord your part. A little bubble of sadness rises in your stomach and you shove it down, clamped a lid on it.
This was no time to be dramatic, let alone succumb to the desperate tiredness pulling you down into the dark depths of your mind. Shaking your head and swallowing thickly, you sing again, and this time, Chan nods before scribbling down a few notes in his pad.
You leave the recording booth and sat quietly on the couch next to Jisung, who clearly hasn't forgiven you for waking him up. He huffs and shuffles away from you, pressing himself up against the other side of the couch.
Normally, the petty gesture would have made you laugh, scoot across the couch, poke his cheek or make fun of his childish act. But you just don't have it in you to be enthusiastic, or even move without reason.
And though you know he doesn't mean it, that he isn't trying to be genuinely hurtful, it strangely pulls at your heartstrings and makes your spirits sink. The world is covered in a permanent grey filter, blocking out all life and colour and joy.
Oh. Okay.
You spend the rest of the producing session with your knees tucked to your chest, nodding when Changbin or Chan calls out a note for everyone to remember, but mainly sitting quietly and trying to ignore the awful feeling in your chest.
Your stomach hurts; it aches deep down in the middle, and you feel sick. Not throw-up sick; more sad, lonely, too-tired, joy-deprived sick.
You barely register 3RACHA packing up their equipment and heading to the dance studio; your body moves on autopilot, as if someone's puppeteering you, and follow them down the hall. Everything feels muted; your body feels alien, like you don't really belong in it.
Floating...
You don't even remember what's happening before the blast of music brings you back down to earth, along with the sounds of heavy panting and shoes squeaking on the polished wooden floor.
The boys are already moving into position, Seungmin moving to the front for his part.
You stumble and Felix gives you a look, but you manage to somehow catch yourself and keep dancing. But trying to keep up with the boys is like running through water. Slow, sluggish, impossible.
Their moves look so smooth and practiced; you feel like a child that's wandered into the studio and been forced to dance. You know the choreo, of course you do.
You could never forget it, not with the countless hours of practicing it, but it's like your body and mind are disconnected, and your limbs just aren't doing what you want them to. You stumble into Hyunjin during formation and ungracefully take him down to the floor with you.
"Oof-"
There's several groans and whines, and a few voiced concerns. The music turns off.
You hear a groan above you; Hyunjin has taken the brunt of the fall, your head pillowed on his stomach. He whines and sits up, and you roll off while rubbing your wrist. It aches, and the sudden, heart-dropping pain is making it hard to breathe. You fight the urge to whimper.
"Sorry, Hyune," you whisper to him. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"It's fine," he grunts, standing up and brushing himself off. He stalks back to position and gives you a pointed look. Everyone is staring, and the music rewinds several seconds, so you meekly heave yourself up and do the same.
Your wrist is really throbbing now, and you hiss before blinking black dots and tears out of your vision. This isn't the time to be weak. The comeback is soon, and all your group members seem to be doing fine; there's no reason you can't do the same.
Get a grip, you tell yourself harshly.
But the self-chiding doesn't work; it only brings with it a certain sort of desperation, the type that preludes your body giving up, and your mind following. You're exhausted. And you kick yourself, because it's past lunch time and you didn't eat, didn't even notice the time pass.
You haven't ingested anything all day, or done anything productive apart from sing your lines, but your body is screaming for rest like you've just run a marathon. You're running on fumes.
You feel absolutely pathetic, but you meanly shove it aside in favour of trying to keep up.
And you do, at least until your foot slips out from underneath you without warning, sending you to the floor with a dull thud. Pain explodes in your side, lungs struggling to take in air.
This time, you can hear the exasperated groans of "Y/n, come on," and "Are you serious?", but you don't even register it, rolling onto your side in the hopes of sucking at least some air into your lungs. You gulp and exhale sharply, on the verge of laying back down and sobbing. On the edge of giving up entirely and starting a new life on the studio floor.
No one reaches out to help.
You expect to see a hand reaching to yours, someone's sneakers as they lean down, a soothing hand on your back, maybe, but it doesn't come. Not even from Chan.
What you do hear is a harsh "Can you stop being so dramatic?" and a mean little laugh bubbling out of a member behind you.
Your vision blurs with tears, the skin of your sweaty cheek almost sticking to the floor in its wetness. Heaving yourself up slowly, and with such pain and difficulty you're convinced you've broken something, you keel over and gasp for air.
Nobody moves. The sound of it, or lack thereof, is horrible.
Your eyes stop blurring for just a moment, enough that you can see your reflection swaying in the mirror, the pale sheen and shakiness of your hands, and the stoic faces of your members.
"Y/n, can you at least try to keep up?" Minho huffs, stressed, hands on hips. "We've got a performance in two days and you can't even get past the first half of the choreo-"
"Shut the fuck up," you snap venomously.
Silence.
Everyone's faces are contorted in shock; you're sure you would have looked the same way, had you not currently been feeling so sick. You've surprised even yourself; the comment burst out of you like a sharp needle suddenly and forcefully piercing a stiff piece of fabric.
Minho looks like he's about to retaliate, no doubt with a severe reply of his own, but it's interrupted by Chan's voice descending like rumbling thunder over the studio.
"Y/n, we don't have time for this," he shouts. "Take five minutes, and then we'll restart. Just try harder, okay? You're bringing the group down-"
"Maybe," you cry out at him, hot tears spilling down your cheeks, "If you think I'm bringing the group down, I should just fucking leave!"
You shove past Jeongin and Hyunjin before fleeing out of the studio and down the corridor, leaving the rest of the group standing in stunned silence.
Minho sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose.
.
You don't go far; you drag your feet to the end of a corridor and enter an unused vocal room.
A classic piano and several guitars on the wall sport a thin coat of dust, and you stir more of it up as you collapse against the wall. The sun is in your eyes and you can see the dust floating about you, but you just don't have the energy to care.
Thoughts race in your head.
You're bringing the group down...
The comeback is soon and you're not ready.
Stop being so dramatic!
Just try harder. Everyone else is fine-
So why aren't you?
Sniffling, you pull back your sleeve and turn your wrist over. There's already a nasty purple bruise forming on the bone of your wrist, and it hurts to move back and forth. You feel dizzy from all of the gasping, and the sound of static surrounds your being as you try and rid your lungs of the winded feeling.
It's still hard to gulp in a full breath of air; you must have fallen really hard, and your side is definitely tender and bruised. Part of you wants to take your shirt off and inspect the damage, but you just sit and stare unseeingly out the window. Everything turns into doubles and triples as you let your eyes unfocus.
Two Jeongins suddenly poke their head quietly into the room.
No, wait, just one. One.
"Hi," he says quietly, almost a whisper. Guilt coats his expression.
You just blink tiredly, sniffing as he trails inside. He sneezes once from the dust, and you don't even jump. Or smile like you usually do at the fox-like way he sniffs and rubs his nose.
He sits down a respectful distance from you, clearly aware of the rapid, panicked rising and falling of your chest, and the sweat sheening your forehead. "Are you okay?"
You feel more hot tears stream down your cheeks like little paths of lava. You open your mouth to form a word, but no sound comes out.
"Y/n," he says sorrowfully. "I'm really sorry."
Minho's voice fills the air. "So are we."
Both of you turn just as Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Felix trail into the room, followed by the rest of the members. Minho moves to sit by your side and you stubbornly look away, not ready to face him just yet.
"We shouldn't have snapped at you the way we did," Felix says quietly. The rest of the members nod their heads, murmuring in agreement. "You were having a rough day, and we should have noticed."
"It's okay," you say, so quiet you can't even hear it. But they do.
"No, it's not," Hyunjin says firmly. "In times like this, we should be supporting each other, not tearing each other down."
"Hyune-"
"We've all been stretched thin because of the comeback, Y/n," Changbin says quietly. "We know you have been, too. But Hyunjin's right. We should be kinder to each other because of it, no matter if we get tired or stressed or upset."
You swallow, throat dry and itchy. The saliva does nothing to soothe it. "I messed up the choreography."
Chan tilts his head softly, voice gentle and sad. "And we messed up your day."
Minho touches your hand lightly, expression uncharacteristically soft. "You forgive us?"
You nod, not having the energy to be upset. You just want to go home and rest. Eat something. Feel better again, feel real again.
He sighs quietly, relieved but still worried. "You got hurt and we didn't help. Is it bad?"
You chuckle, voice cracking as your eyes well up. "Nah."
Chan strokes a strand of damp hair out of your eyes. "I'm so truly sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean it when I said that you're bringing the group down. It was so hurtful of me to say-"
"Yeah, Chan-hyung," Jeongin chides him. "You're mean."
The rest of the members eagerly agree and interrupt with their own little lectures, Jisung even going so far to bravely snatch his leader's black cap off of his head. It makes you crack a tiny smile.
"Alright, guys, enough," Chan says meekly. "Let's get you home, Y/n. You need a good rest. I think we all do."
"Group hug, everyone," Felix says, clapping his hands suddenly. "No one's leaving 'til all has been fixed and forgiven."
"Yes!" Hyunjin claps his hands. "Group hug. You too, Seungmin-"
"No- Hmphff-"
You exhale with a small smile as you're piled upon. Closing your eyes, you let yourself be held, let the day's events wash off you like soapy suds. You've been suspended in the air all day by tangled ropes, ones that fray and snap and threaten to drop you plummeting to earth, but when you finally fall, you find that you're not afraid.
And for the first time in a while, falling doesn't hurt.
It's a soft, sure landing.
a/n: i want to nap so bad rn tbh
ttokki's taglist: @emilyywhyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @sillyseob @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627 @jsngprk-vhs @stellasays45 @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca
send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !
HI!!!!! you’re my sole inspiration for writing 9th member fics (they’re so fun,, it’s like being skz’s best friend eifjsjdj) and also the way there’s barely any good fics for 9th member readers 🙂↕️
hff....i- my fics...jjfff...kahsj..me-? my fics...
hiiii
something like this for a seungmin x 9th reader fic?:
https://www.tumblr.com/nightmarenyxx/782437028022321152/please-someone-write-something-with-the-chaumet
hii !! i'm actually not gonna do a 9th member fic since i can't think of anything for it (sorry...), but those chaumet pics SCREAm bodyguard seungmin to me, so here >< hope it makes up for it . . .
pairing: bodyguard!kim seungmin x charge!reader
summary: how bodyguard seungmin would be around his charge hehe
genre: bodyguard!au, mentions of blood, bruises, broken bones, reader is a little clumsy, seungmin being a gentleman, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of fighting and harassment, slight hints of bodyguard + charge to lovers? this is such a wattpad thing to write about but who cares lmao
a/n: chaumet seungmin is as close to doberman seungmin we're gonna get . . . sigh . div by @dollywons
skz masterlist
bodyguard!seungmin who has a soft spot for his charge, always letting them do whatever they would like to (unless it puts you in danger). you want to climb a tree? sure, he's just gonna stand underneath and look up in case you fall. you want to eat something ridiculously unhealthy? go for it, but he's gonna make sure you have proper meals the rest of the day. whatever you want to do, he'll calmly oblige while keeping an eye out for any threats (and yes, that does include making sure you don't ingest obscene amounts of calories).
bodyguard!seungmin who wakes you in the mornings with a gentle shake and a pull of the curtains. he's figured out that the easiest way to wake up in the mornings is to let some sunlight into the room. he stands by, fully dressed and proper, while you yawn and rub the sleep out of your eyes. doesn't blink at the state of your ruffled clothes and bedhead, but he smirks to himself as he turns to pour you a cup of tea. he hands it to you and tries to fight a sigh as you immediately spill it over the duvet. oops . . .
bodyguard!seungmin who chides you when you get injured, no matter if it's a broken arm or a papercut. not that he would ever let you get injured when he's around; he always has a watchful eye out for you, but even so, you have a tendency to stumble and trip. doesn't scold you or treats your injuries harshly, but sits quietly and gently reminds you to be careful next time. administers first aid with a gentle touch, one reserved only for you, and rolls his eyes when you cheekily ask him to kiss your wounds better (he wants to so badly).
bodyguard!seungmin who subtly protects you in public; he holds his jacket over you when you're going up the escalator or a flight of stairs, stands in front of you while you fix your outfit, and keeps an eye on any people you talk to in case they make you uncomfortable. would definitely be the type of guy to give you his blazer if you're ever cold or feel exposed with what you're currently wearing. i have a feeling he would roll his eyes and mutter under his breath, but secretly, he really likes seeing you in his clothes. and he would 100% rather have to face the cold than have you shivering next to him.
bodyguard!seungmin who doesn't show off when it comes to defending you; just does what he has to in order to protect you, then takes you and runs. moves fast beyond comprehension; the attackers or harassers never see him coming. let me tell you, the seungmin blur is the deadliest force known to humanity, and he takes pride in what he does. no one who messes with you ever walks away without at least several bruises and broken bones. he definitely checks you over after, much more than he needs to. is scanning your arms and face for injuries even on the car ride home, even after you reassure him that you're fine.
bodyguard!seungmin who has a gun in the inside pocket of his blazer, but refuses to use it unless absolutely necessary. is hesitant to even pull it out of the slot after you begged him not to use it on people. you know sometimes people will try to hurt you, but you can't stand the thought of blood on seungmin's hands, not least because he's trying to protect you. if the situation is really bad, he'll whip out his knife. he can't put aside his bodyguard duties in favour of your opinion, so he'll do as little damage as possible, whipping the person unconscious or nicking them. it's usually enough to scare them away (most of the time..).
a/n: inspired by the felix bodyguard series by @skzdarlings !!
ttokki's taglist: @emilyywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @sillyseob @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627 @jsngprk-vhs @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca
send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !
hello 😁 i hope u are good 🫶 can i req something pls? 🙏 i saw ur post abt protective skz with their maknae reader but what abt a protective reader? 😏 who is usually shy, but loses her temper when angry: doesn't take hate lightly, makes sure they eat and rest, unafraid of talking back, ready to fight off anyone, glaring at everyone (it would be cute, but it gets scary when she is mad mad), etc. 🤔
hi this is a cool request~ i bet the boys would have a lot of fun with a scary member who's also really cute >< here you go !!
pairing: ot8!skz x protective fem!reader
summary: how skz would be around a protective ninth member <3
genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, mentions of eating and drinking, chan shaking in his boots lmao
a/n: this aesthetic is so cute . . . div by @huraxy
skz masterlist
usually you're super chill
like kind of shy, really; not the type to shout or mess around like the guys do
most of the time, you're by felix or minho's side
because they're the least chaotic members of the group (most of the time anyway)
and it's just nice to be all quiet and observant from behind their shoulders
they know you're kind of shy, but oh man, wait til you get mad
even the maknaes shut up instantly when you raise your voice
bc you mean BUSINESS
doesn't matter how short you are you'll fight anyone within a certain distance
including chan (crazy right?)
who is also scared of your temper, even if it doesn't show up that often
which is why it's so terrifying when your voice booms through the studio or recording room, louder than thunder
everyone just keeps their head down and listens to you
hyung line is secretly so jealous of your commanding aura
after you're done shouting you just kind of go back to your normal shy demeanour, or leave the room
and everyone's just left shaking in their boots like
what the fuck??
you don't get angry often, and it's always for a valid reason, so they get it
stay knows that too; you've told interviewers and tv show hosts and even mnet staff to back off or stop being rude
you can make anyone listen; no one expects the shy little member to have the strongest voice
same with rude 'fans'
they don't always listen but most of them have a very healthy respect for your emotions
you're always making sure skz takes care of themselves too
especially the members who tend to overwork or get distressed easily
you always make sure to chase them up and give them something to eat
or tell them to go and drink water
or you just hold a fistful of their hair firmly (without hurting them) and watch them actually ingest food
they always give you pouty eyes but you never give in
you're just hardcore like that
and you don't let them go until they've swallowed the last mouthful
when you guys go out to eat, you're the person always heaping food on their plates
'eat eat you EAT'
bc i know these mfs forget to nourish themselves properly
so it's nice to have you take care of them
especially the younger ones
they do the same for you too, but they wouldn't dare touch your hair
they're too scared to in fear of messing it up and irritating you
the sassier ones like minho and seungmin are amazed at how much you talk back
like it's insane
chan schedules extra practice? "i don't want to, we already have so much to do"
hyunjin wants to have his vocal lesson before yours? "i scheduled mine earlier so you should have done the same"
you're just an absolute lion
sometimes you have to get told off because you're getting too sassy
but the boys can't help but take it easy on you
you're just so cute
even if you act like a demon from the underworld
oh well
but
even your gaze is scary
the boys often find themselves jumpscared
like they'll walk into a room and you're just sitting there like >:|
like an owl
you know how they have big wide eyes that stare into your soul?
your gaze is like that
felix jokes that you could burn lasers with how intense your stare is
it even looks intense when you're just sitting having a great time
in dead silence
the members don't mind though, whatever makes you happy makes them happy too !!
they get used to your little habits, and they all work around your demeanour
you're all one big happy group <3
a/n: okay maybe i wrote headcanons because i don't have the motivation nor the energy to write a full fic . . . oh well
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @sillyseob @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627 @jsngprk-vhs @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca
send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !
Hello, I really adore your writing and was just wondering what are your WIPs are?
hello my love, that's so sweet of you xx
i thought i'd make all my wips a poll so you guys can decide what you want to see first !!
if you guys want, drop a 'top three' list in the comments so i can decide what to release after the top poll result !
(please do it . . .)
this isn't even all of them omg . . . i have a few more skz prompt list requests and some thank-you messages from my readers .
but yeah! gonna put my taglist here just to speed things up :
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @sillyseob @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627 @jsngprk-vhs
obsessed with noona!9th member reader :0 what if she gets harrassed by a stage invader during a show and end up tearing a calf muscle or something and cant join the boys in performing for a while?
okay damn shit calm down why is this so intense TT . . . interesting request, my anon !! however, ask and you shall receive <3
pairing: ot8!skz x injured!9th member reader
summary: when a stage invader injures you in the middle of a performance, skz help you build yourself back up, little by little.
genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, mentions of blood, wounds, bruises, fainting, general medical procedures, mentions of eating and drinking, soft skz all the way :(
a/n: omg it's been so long since i wrote . . . did yall miss me . . . (silence)
skz masterlist
You never saw it coming.
One minute, you were singing the chorus of 'Walking on Water', scrunching your nose and throwing a hand at the audience in passion, and the next, you were thrown face down to the stage floor, feeling the metallic clatter of your mic dully hitting the side of your face.
A throb in your shoulder, the wet feeling of something sliding down your skin. The sickly tang of iron in your mouth, and the incredibly sharp, stabbing pain in your calf.
"Y/n!" the fans had screamed in panic, unheard by you. "Watch out!"
There were screams; several yells, a confused start from one of the members who was singing, and the audience had gone quiet, dissolving into hushed murmurs and worried whispers.
It was Minho who first rushed to your side, almost tipping himself over as he pushed back the strange, dark-haired man who threw a half-hearted kick at your side.
You heard swearing; low and dark, a musty smell coming over your senses, and then the buzz of security as they manhandled the stage invader into the dark wings off the sides of the platform.
Dizzy.
You felt hands; worried hands brushing over your form, the latex gloves of the medical staff, Chan's strained reassurances in your ear as he scanned the stage for any other threats. Vision blurry, you turned your head to the side and saw the boys clustered in a group, Hyunjin and Seungmin calling out to the fans with their hands out, trying to calm them down.
Something wet swiped across the side of your face, cold and dripping against the clammy, salty heat of your cheeks. Shaking, you raised fingers to your face, brushing them lightly against your skin. It felt numb; your fingertips came away as scarlet as the lip gloss you'd put on earlier before the show.
Chan's voice broke through the haze, low and steady. "Breathe, Y/n, you'll be okay. We've got you, you're safe, yeah?"
Then, black.
.
"Ow- fuck-"
"Almost there," Lia, the JYPE company nurse, cooed at you gently as she pressed a new gauze pad to the wound on your shoulder. "Y/n, you really need to be more careful. It won't heal properly if you keep trying to push yourself before the wound is scabbed over..."
"I wonder how that happened," Minho remarks dryly from the door, hair messy, leaning against the frame. He watches as Lia disposes of bloody tissues in the bin. "Surely it can't be because of a certain Stray Kids member attempting to do a late-night practice on her own."
You scowl. "Shut up."
Felix interjects with a sigh, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "It won't be a long time, noona. Just until it's healed. You need the rest..."
"I'm fine," you insist, standing up and trying to fight the sinking feeling in your chest. "I'm going back to the studio-"
"No, you're not," Minho says firmly. "You're going back to the dorm to rest. You're not leaving until Chan-hyung and I say you're allowed to."
You're about to shoot back in irritation, stubbornly refusing to listen, until your eyes catch Lia's. She gives you a look.
You groan. "Fine."
.
"I brought you tea," Changbin says quietly from your bedroom door. "Thought it might help."
You sit up as he walks in, and you take the steaming cup from him gratefully. It's soothing, the heat seeping through the porcelain and warming the frozen bones in your fingers.
Your eyes meet his as Changbin sits down on the edge of the bed, running his fingers over the duvet. The purple lights above your headboard bathe him in a soft, violet glow, and part of you feels bad for keeping him up this late.
You feel bad for waking Hyunjin, too. Not that he seemed to mind; he'd just gently chided you as Minho led you back to your dorm with a firm hand on your shoulder, and ruffled your hair as Changbin had helped you settle into bed.
You can hear him clattering about in the kitchen, no doubt searching for a late-night snack. Changbin is clearly used to the noise, because he doesn't blink as Hyunjin swears from the kitchen, whining about not being able to find his chips.
You take a sip of the tea; it's slightly minty, cooling you down even though the liquid is hot. It makes you immediately sleepy, warmth flooding your body and replacing the dull feeling that's been settling itself in your gut for the past few days.
Changbin's eyes flick to yours as you set the cup down on the beside with a clink.
"Tired?" He says softly. His hair is rumpled with sleep.
You shift on the bed, sliding down the pillow. "It's uncomfortable to sleep. I have to keep my leg up all the time."
"It'll be easier once you find the right position," he replies, picking up a pillow from the floor. "Here."
You take it from him and prop your leg up, nestling into the sheets. "I'm sorry I woke you."
"Not at all. I don't think Hyun minded either. Speaking of, did you want something to eat?"
You shake your head quietly, downcast. If Changbin notices, he doesn't say anything, and he gently kisses your crown before closing the bedroom door softly behind himself.
You gnaw at the inside of your cheek. You feel even worse than before you'd tried to sneak out and practice alone. It was just so inconvenient; being harassed by a stage invader in the middle of a performance you'd worked so hard for, and you hadn't even been able to finish it.
Part of you wishes it had been one of the boys who'd gotten hurt. But that thought scares you more than the fact that you're injured, so you chase it out of your head and try to rest.
You fall asleep with the pillow soaked in tears.
.
"And one- Switch, Jisung to the back, Felix's part, and here, we go-"
Minho's voice rings out loud and clear as he shouts instructions to the members, music blaring out over his tone. You watch in amazement from the side of the studio floor, knees tucked to your chest.
It's common practice for him to shout moves and parts to the boys and you during practices, but the fact that he's dancing effortlessly at the same time makes your jaw drop a little. You can't believe it never occurred to you earlier, the level of breath control and strength he possesses.
He's amazing.
So are the rest of them.
It's been an hour, and none of them show any sign of slowing down. It doesn't matter who you look at, or when; all of them are dancing at full power, giving the routine and song their all, from Jeongin, whose vocals are stable even though he's constantly moving, and Hyunjin, who executes his switch to the back without missing a beat.
Part of you is glad to be able to sit back and watch; the feeling of pride sits in your chest like a warm, happy bubble, especially as your gaze meets the younger members' forms. You can't believe how far they've come.
But something about the way they glance at each other, even slapping each other's butts as they move past and grinning at each other in the mirror between moves tugs sadly at your heart.
You want to be a part of that again.
It's been two weeks, and Chan and Minho still aren't letting up. Neither is your manager, or JYP, no matter how much you nagged at him. Any of them. Lia was also in strong agreement that you rest more, but you've had enough. You want to get up and dance. Sing. Perform with your group members.
You scratch lightly at the sticky bandage on your shoulder. It hasn't come off yet, a miracle, and you sigh as you roll it back and forth, trying to alleviate the sensory feeling of it stuck to your skin. Hopefully you won't end up with a square of skin lighter than the surrounding tanned area once the bandage comes off.
You turn your leg from side to side, flexing the calf muscle gently. It only aches a little, the painful, sharp throb from the first impact a distant memory.
But not any less painful.
"Hey," you hear Chan's voice next to you. "Feeling any better?"
"Fine," you say bitterly, looking away. He's sweaty, the faded scent of cologne and musk washing over you in a soft, familiar wave. He flicks open the top of his electrolyte drink, leaning against the wall behind both of you.
He doesn't seem too upset by your harsh tone; taking a swig of blue liquid and then setting the bottle down, he turns to you. "I know it's hard, Y/nnie-"
"You don't get it, Chan," you snap at him suddenly, upset anger bubbling in your stomach unexpectedly. "You can perform and dance and sing and do everything properly while I'm stuck here, unable to even get up without someone fussing over me. I'm fine, okay? I want to join practices and performances again. I'm sick of this. All of it."
He doesn't blink, eyes softening. And suddenly, as quickly as it appeared, the intense emotion evaporates. It's replaced by the hot, wet feeling of tears sliding down your cheeks.
A calloused thumb reaches out and brushes them away. "I'm sorry, Y/n. It's awful not being able to perform. Trust me, I know." He turns to face you. "But if you keep trying to push yourself before you're healed, the time you have away from activities will only increase."
You sniff. He's right.
"It's just not fair," you whisper.
"No, it's not," Jisung says, sitting down next to you. Like Chan, he's sweaty, and you fight the sad, watery urge to smile as you spot a hint of last night's sparkly stage eyeshadow still smeared across his lids. "But we'd rather you rest safely than go out there injured, and risk getting hurt again, okay? We care about you."
"It's not as fun," Chan admits quietly. "On stage. We miss you. So do the fans. They've been ranting about the stage invader left and right. We're all here to support you, okay?"
You nod and wipe a hand across your eyes. "When can I get back to schedules?"
By now, the rest of the members have come and flopped down near you. You run a hand through Jeongin's damp hair as Seungmin toys with the clip on your leg bandage.
"You're gonna be okay, noona," Felix says softly, leaning his head on Hyunjin's shoulder.
The rest of the members nod eagerly and interject with their own reassurances, and it's all you can do not to cry. You sniff and Chan's hand covers yours in a warm flood of heat.
"Hey," Minho says dryly. "At least you don't have to slave away at the choreography like the rest of us-"
Chan clears his throat. "Minho."
He grins as the rest of the members and you dissolve into giggles.
a/n: i have an exam tomorrow . . .
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @sillyseob @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627 @jsngprk-vhs
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my dream as a fanfic writer is for one day, one of my fics to be someones comfort fic. like the fic that they reread when they don't feel good and want to be happy. i want my words to comfort someone one day
Heya there 🤠 Hope you're doing well! If it's good with you, can I please request something ispired by this - https://www.tumblr.com/moon-ttokki-x/777609369726681088/ ?
I think all of the guys would always take their 9th member as plus one on those events so... how do you think it would be like to go to events like that with each member?
I hope this isn’t too confusing 😭 I'm not good at writing 😕
i already did chan's ver. so here's the rest of the members hehe . . .
pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader
summary: skz find out you're coming with them as plus one to an event.
genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, hints of mutual pining, mentions of eating and drinking, kind of groupmates to lovers thing ig, nervous minho awww, jeongin tries to be cool, changbin's is the sweetest ever. literally just fluffy, like tooth-rot worthy fluff. literally no other warnings i'm pretty sure . . .
a/n: i feel like it's been ages since i wrote smth tbh :/ div by @dollywons
skz masterlist | chan's ver.
Minho who is an absolute gentleman. is rather quiet on the ride there but that's only bc he's a little nervous himself (and also bc he's sitting next to you; do you even know how good you look??). has to stop himself from constantly reaching to hold your hand when you both step out of the car, but he can't resist offering you his arm. he's not one for much physical affection, but there's a small part of him that wants you close. shields you from the cameras if the flashing is making you uncomfortable, and introduces you smoothly to people once you're inside the event. literally stays by your side the whole night, glancing sideways every few minutes to make sure you're okay.
Changbin who is the literal king of comforting you. he knows you're a little apprehensive about attending the event, but he distracts you and makes silly jokes to ease the tension floating around your head. if you're worrying how you look, he'll literally drop to his knees and flatter you. he can't believe you're not sure whether you look good or not; rest assured, he'll be reminding you for the rest of the night. locks his pinky with yours as you both wander throughout the crowds to reassure you. he couldn't be prouder of his little maknae attending their first major event, and makes sure to congratulate you and then treat you to something delicious afterwards.
Hyunjin who insists on wearing matching colours and outfits; throws a playful tantrum when you refuse to let him pick the colour. you both spend almost two hours bickering over what to wear, but he gives in and lets you choose anyway. is almost knocked over by the blinding lights of camera flashes once you two arrive at the event, and he waves people off before turning to check on you. leads you through the crowds with a gentle hand on your lower back, and makes sweet, subtle comments to you throughout the night (in front of and away from people; he couldn't care less if anyone else hears him). you're the most stylish duo at the event that night.
Han who whines about having to go to the event before he finds out you're supposed to go with him. literally shoots out of his chair and insists on getting ready (even though the actual thing isn't supposed to start for at least a few hours). promises to help you with interactions and nods encouragingly when you move to approach people at the event. stands by your side, nodding and gently prompting you to talk, shooting you a cheeky wink when you give him a subtle nod in thanks. normally tries to escape these events early, but stalls for as long as possible (partly because he's actually enjoying himself, and partly because he wants to keep admiring you).
Felix who refuses to leave your side and insists on having some part of his body touch yours as you both watch the event start. whether it's his shoulder brushing yours as he shifts a little, or his hand 'accidentally' skating over your thigh, the comfort is far more enjoyable than this event could ever be. isn't actually as invested in the goings-on of the show like he usually is; all he can think about is you. for once, he's too shy to talk to the other people at the event; he makes a mental note to thank the company once he gets back. he quietly begins planning a way to bring you to these outings more often.
Seungmin who initially rolls his eyes and brushes past you when he finds out you both have to go together; softens up when he sees you all dressed up and even offers you his hand when you get out of the car. is bored, as per usual, but he puts on his most convincing facade and steels himself throughout the night. lightens up a little when you lean across to whisper a snide comment to him, and he throws one right back, trying to fight the slight colour rising on his cheeks. thinks about the proximity to you for the rest of the event, and can't seem to get rid of the strange, warm feeling in his stomach. oh well. must have been something he ate.
Jeongin who immediately puts in 200% effort into trying to impress you. dresses up well and makes himself look amazing, makes sure he smells good, and even practices a few english sentences in the mirror to avoid stuttering like he usually does. in a bid to show off a little, he talks to people he normally wouldn't have and is sick of the english language by the end of the night (though he doesn't complain bc that's not cool). succeeds in his attempts to impress you, and doesn't realise how much he talked until he's called into the office the next day. is confused when he's told that he somehow managed to network with every single person at the event.
a/n: skz just one chance pls take me with you
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 @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627
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reblog if you’re okay with people writing fanfics of your fanfics and/or fanfics inspired by your fanfics
i beg of u to make a felix ver of the period comfort series
hihihi it's finally here~ i haven't released much lately but i've been wanting to write for lixie for a while . . . here you gooo
pairing: best friend!lee felix x reader with period
summary: felix catches you at an unpleasant time . . .
genre: soft, reader has a period, mentions of blood, period products, medication, mentions of eating and drinking, i don't like this one very much :/, oh well, cuddling, kissing, very soft, very fluffy, kind of angsty?? reader has a job, felix likes to burst into reader's house unannounced
a/n: yayyy the felix ver. of the period comfort series !!!
skz masterlist
You're pretty sure you're falling apart right now.
At least, that's what it feels like.
It started with a momentary, dull ache this morning while you were getting ready for work; you thought nothing of it and grabbed a piece of toast on your way out. It faded after ten seconds, anyway; probably the result of a late-night snacking session. Or so you thought.
It happened again at work, as soon as you sat down at your desk; again, you ignored it, though the thought of your period lingered at the back of your mind. Brushing it aside, you had locked in and finished everything that you needed to do.
Satisfied a couple of hours later, and feeling in the mood for a well-deserved break, you'd stood up and immediately felt the wet, scarlet dregs of horror gushing out of you like a leaky tap.
Shit.
That event had been followed by a hasty call to your manager, saying you needed to go home, a rummage in your bag (only to find you'd run out of pads and tampons... seriously?) and then a drive home that was so fast you're pretty sure you caused some sort of accident.
Now, you're curled up on the sofa, both hands pressing a heating pad firmly to your lower stomach, swaddled in a fluffy blanket and a hoodie that is far too hot.
You're sweating, your lower back, thighs, and underarms uncomfortably damp against the thick material of your clothes, but you don't have it in yourself to move.
Just as you're about to hesitantly move to turn the thermostat as cold as possible, the door flies open and Felix strides in with a cheerful greeting. You flinch at the sound of the door banging shut, followed by your best friend's clumsy shuffling as he makes himself at home.
"Y/n, I'm here!" He sings, grinning.
Immediately dumping his belongings on the counter and kicking off his shoes, he walks over to the couch where you are and flops down on the couch, apparently unaware of your sticky, miserable state.
"Get out," you groan, doubling over on the couch.
"Aww, why?" He leans forward, eyes scanning your figure. "Thought you were fine with me coming over.." He trails off.
Hoodie, fluffy blanket, heating pad, looks angry, sweating, clutching stomach... Oh no. Period.
"Y/n," he coos cutely, suddenly cautious.
You groan even louder. "Go away, Felix. I'm not in the mood."
"Clearly- hmphh-"
He's met with a cushion to the face, and he falls back against the couch with an ungraceful thud. Tossing it aside, he scoots closer, pushing the fluffy blanket onto the floor and giving you some much-needed, cool relief.
"No need to get violent," he says, chuckling. "Do you want tea?"
Having no energy left to scoff at him, you sigh and nod in defeat. He gets up and pats your head before heading into your kitchen. The smell of chamomile fills the room, and you inhale deeply, the warm, light scent giving you enough strength to stand up. You grimace as the blood rushes out, and you shift uncomfortably on the spot, trying to ignore the warm, wet feeling.
"I'm going to get changed," you say quietly, voice so small you're not sure he'll hear it. But he does, and he just nods with a smile before pouring a little more hot water into a mug.
You sigh and drag your feet down the hallway, shutting your bedroom door behind yourself. Quickly changing your pad and washing your hands, you wipe your sweaty body down with several wet wipes before stepping into a light shirt and pair of shorts.
Normally you wouldn't be wearing this sort of thing on your period, but it's too hot for heavy clothing, and it's not like Felix will care. He's seen you in all sorts of things, and in this state too. It's not the first time he's come across you on your period.
There's a knock on the door; too tired to call out, you sluggishly pull it open and are met with your best friend's smiling face; his sunshine-like energy hits you with a wave of irritation, and you groan before moving aside to let him in.
A waft of steam follows him as he enters and sets the mug of tea down; he rubs his hands together and flops onto the bed, holding out the heat pad you had earlier. It had gone cold as soon as he had spontaneously announced himself in your abode; now, you watch as he drops it on the bed, tapping his fingertips together to disperse the heat from holding it.
"I reheated it for you," he says cheerfully.
"Thanks," you sigh, sitting on the bed. He hands you the mug and you lift it with weak hands, taking a long, deep sip of the liquid. It's immediately soothing, the cramps ripping your gut open dulling for just a moment. Felix watches you intently.
"Did you take medication?" He asks softly.
You nod. "Only a while ago. It hasn't kicked in yet, unfortunately."
Felix watches as you lift the heating pad to your stomach, pressing it to try and relieve the cramping. It hurts a little because of the heat, but it's soothing, and you exhale as the pain begins to dull.
"I wish I could have a heat pad as big as I am," you say, dazed and fatigued. "It's too messy to take a hot bath, and I get uncomfortable with blankets and hoodies... Too sweaty..."
Silence.
"Just wanna fall asleep," you continue, sighing. You're talking to yourself more than you are to Felix; the pain has muffled your senses, making the whole world seem quiet and tired, and all you're aware of is the constant ache in your abdomen.
There's a sudden warmth against your cheek and the world tilts sideways.
Shooting upwards, and then grimacing as you feel blood soak your pad, you stare at Felix with wide eyes. His arms are around your waist, one leg up as he leans against the headboard, clearly meaning to take you into his chest. His ears are red, though not half as scarlet as your nether regions.
"S-sorry," he says hurriedly, stumbling over his words. "I just- I thought it might help a little?"
He finishes on a question, a feeble attempt to reason and placate, like he's not sure why he did it himself. Rightfully so; you and Felix are close, but not so close that you cuddle or hold each other. The furthest you two go is holding hands or him having his arm around your shoulders.
But not this.
You bite your lip and look him up and down, weighing your decision. It did feel really good to be held. You know you could just fall asleep on him instantly. Felix is a comfy person, the angles and planes of his form surprisingly soft and pillowy.
But he might think it's gross... What if I leak on him while I sleep? Or what if he gets uncomfortable...
You don't have time to think the rest of it through, because Felix makes the decision for you. You let yourself be pulled into his chest, resting comfortably on your side as his arms meet each other at your waist. They wrap warmly around your shoulders and you're immediately sleepy as your cheek once again meets the heat emanating from his chest.
Was he always this comfortable?
"Go to sleep," he murmurs, and the low sound makes you shiver despite the warmth surrounding you. "I'll be here when you wake up."
"Felix..."
"Shhh," he says, stroking your hair, surprisingly bold despite his earlier flustered state. "I've got you."
The constant, dull ache plaguing your body like a disease has now reduced to a quiet, half-hearted throb in your stomach, the pain soothed for the most part. Part of you wishes you could stay like this forever, pressed against him like this, feeling the fan of his warm breath on your hair, the heat radiating from his body.
It's all so comfy and domestic and familiar, somehow.
Felix drops a tiny, hesitant kiss to your temple as he slides down the headboard, pulling you gently to his chest. It makes your cheeks warm as your eyelids begin to droop. You're on the verge of falling asleep, too far gone to be awake enough to open your eyes or protest at his movements. Not that you want to, even if you could.
One hand falls limp as your eyes finally shut, and Felix tucks it into the space between you, once more wrapping his arm around your waist and letting it rest in the dip.
He can't resist the urge to kiss your forehead, so close to him, and the feeling of your skin against his mouth is so restful that he keeps it there, gently falling into slumber with a permanent kiss resting against your face. Permanent enough, or at least until you wake up or he pulls back.
Neither of those things are happening any time soon.
"Feel better," he whispers.
a/n: this feels so short (like me) . . .
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 @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627
send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !
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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HIII LOVEEE
could you do something about ninth member!reader who found out they were pregnant and are trying to hide it from everyone?? you don’t have too if your not comfortable with pregnancy and stuff
-🪻
hi my love~ just a few shorts thoughts on how skz would react . . . they would be the most supportive people ever and you can't change my mind >< here you gooo~
pairing: ot8!skz x pregnant 9th member!reader
summary: how skz would react to hearing about your pregnancy . . .
genre: this is literally just fluffy, idol!au, 9th member!au, mentions of pregnancy, eating, drinking, worried chan and seungmin, we're naming the baby megatron bc jisung said so, innie and felix's made me cry :(
a/n: 🪻 anon you've outdone yourself . . . skz would be the most supportive members ever :((
skz masterlist
Chan who instantly clears your schedule the moment he hears the news. No more dance practices for you. Reluctantly allows you to moderately exercise, but hovers worriedly nearby like you're about to give birth any minute. Still lets you sing and do interviews, but always has a watchful eye on you. Just in case.
Minho who heads straight to the kitchen and begins planning out nutritious meals. You have to eat snacks in secret because he'll snatch it off you and feed you a proper meal instead. You no longer have to worry about what to cook, because your fridge in the dorm is stocked to the brim with all sorts of deliciousness.
Changbin who gets all huffy when he finds out you've been keeping the news from him and the other members. Forgives you within a minute and recommends some gentle exercises to keep you fit and healthy during your pregnancy. Buys you maternity straps and lots of little helpful items. Secretly hopes the baby is a girl.
Hyunjin who wants to paint you instead of you getting a maternity shoot; even if the bump isn't visible, he'll insist on it anyway. Refuses to let you see until he's finished painting, giggling to himself. When he finally gifts it to you, it's an oil painting of you with a bouquet of flowers covering your stomach in shades of baby blue and pink.
Han who immediately asks to name the baby; goes all pouty when he finds out you don't know the gender. When the perinatal depression hits, he'll come up with all sorts of silly names to make you laugh ("Can we name it Megatron?") and always tickles your stomach with a finger to cheer you up. Wants to teach the baby to rap.
Felix who always has a hand on your stomach whenever you're sitting down; the warmth radiating from his palm is soothing and calming. Is often found gazing at you with soft, loving eyes, before they travel down to your stomach. Becomes even softer and more gently protective after you tell him the news (if that's even possible).
Seungmin who quietly sits by your side after you tell him; he's not sure how to process the news, so he gazes at you with wide eyes and starts to worry just a little. After some reassurance, he'll be fine, but be prepared for the teasing jokes that come after he's recovered from the initial shock ("Did you swallow a watermelon, Y/n?")
Jeongin who immediately starts asking tons of questions; he wants to know everything about the process. Does it hurt? How does it come out? Where is it growing? Can the baby hear him talking? Yes it can. Once the bump starts developing, he can be found sitting by your stomach and singing gently to your unborn baby.
a/n: div by @dollywons
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 @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo
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Hey,i literally just met you few days ago and your posts are so ADDICTIVE like LITERALLY i just wanna ask you when your posting "stupidly perfect" (im so sorry if i said the title wrong) just when are you posting part 3 obv your health comes first
hi that's so sweet of you !! part 3 of the series is already out, part 4 is coming soon hehe . you said it right, don't worry love <3
keep an eye out for updates !!
HIII MY LOVE
i was just wondering if you could do something with a foreigner!reader, who doesn’t speak korean, with han?? where they have a hard time communicating but they still wanna be together??
(btw if you have anons can i be 🪻??)
hi, love~ this was so cute, really interesting to write . this took a while but it was so worth it hehe . yes you can, my first emoji anon yayy . here you go~~
pairing: idol!han jisung x female!reader
summary: the language barrier between you and jisung stops your true feelings from being communicated.
genre: angsty but happy ending, idol!au, reader is a stylist, mentions of injuries, blood, cuts, bandages, antiseptics, broken glass, jisung doesn't like being injured, chan's iconic smirk comeback, hints to chanlix and minsung, mentions of wrestling, kissing, nothing too intense i promise
a/n: this is one of my fav fics that i've written tbh . everything in bold + italic is spoken in korean. just a note !
skz masterlist
"How long have you been watching him?" Felix whispers into your ear.
"Huh?"
He smirks, nodding his head towards Jisung, who's currently messing about on set with Minho. "You've been watching him."
You scoff and push him away. "No, I haven't."
"Yes, you have."
Groaning, you brush past Felix and wander past the cameras to the other side of the MV set. It's almost midday; the sun beats down relentlessly on the pavements outside, bathing everything in a bright glow, but inside the warehouse, the lights are dimmed in shades of red, green and white, casting an eerie palette over the broken glass and haphazard items scattered about the dusty floor.
Your eyes wander to one of the camera tripods; 'ESCAPE FILMING' is written on a piece of masking tape and stuck to the side. Your gaze flits to Chan and Hyunjin; both of them are raggedy, slender figures in heavy coats and coarse clothing. They're busy talking to their manager; you duck off to the side and run straight into Felix again.
You groan. "Go away."
"Come on," he murmurs. "Go talk to him."
It's been almost a month since you took the job as a stylist with JYPE; it had been interesting, to say the least. The members took to you immediately, teasing and friendly within a couple of days. You were in awe; they were such professionals you'd been assigned to work around, but one of them had caught your eye.
Jisung.
You feel your cheeks warm as you watch him; Felix is motionless beside you, no doubt smirking, but your heart sinks as you hear the distant lilt of excitable Korean floating over the set to your ears.
"Y/n, go," Felix insists. "Talk to him."
"And how am I supposed to do that?" You whip around to face him. "I don't speak Korean, and he doesn't know enough English to be fluent in a conversation with me."
"He sings in English," Felix points out, adjusting the cuff of his hoodie. His black cap- Chan's cap- sits low on his head.
"That's because he has you and Chan to help him." You groan.
This would be so much easier if the rest of the members weren't here. You wonder what they're here for, anyway; they said they came to support Chan and Hyunjin while they filmed their music video, but you have a sneaking suspicion it was just to get out of an extra dance practice Chan scheduled for the remaining members while he was away. No doubt the maknaes' idea.
You'd fought to stay focused on doing Hyunjin's makeup that same morning; he hadn't missed the way your hand shook around your eyeshadow brush when Jisung had breezed in with a cheerful shout. If Hyunjin had noticed, he hadn't said anything, and the resulting makeup look had thankfully turned out just fine.
"Y/n."
You whip around so fast your neck hurts, and you almost trip over your own feet as you come face-to-face with Jisung. He's dressed casually, as most of the members are; his grey zip hoodie is slightly dusty, loose black jeans showing a peek of startingly white shoes beneath their hems.
His face is bare, void of makeup, and you can see the healthy pink flush on his cheekbones and the tip of his nose. His lashes blink away strands of un-styled, dark hair falling into his face; he sweeps it back effortlessly with two fingers, and his wide eyes fix themselves onto your own, a cheerful grin painting his lips.
You look around wildly for Felix to save you; he's conveniently disappeared into thin air, and you curse inwardly as you're forced to face Jisung once more. There's nowhere to run.
"Hi." Your voice sounds thin and awkward.
"Hi." He replies, an equally awkward but adorable smile curving his mouth further. Even the simple syllable sounds odd and unfamiliar to him, it seems. Tinged with his accent, the sound coming out of his mouth looks like he tasted something unusual; new and curious, but strange.
Foreign.
You stutter, unable to comprise a singular sentence. Even if you were able to at the moment, it's unlikely Jisung will understand. The past few interactions with him have shown you that.
You try anyway. "Did you need something?"
He blinks. Takes apart each word in his mind, turns his cognitive gears, and a dawning sense of confusion appears on his face despite the effort to understand. "Chan-hyung ruined his makeup again. He's busy with his outfit, but he sent me to ask you if you could quickly touch it up for him? If you're not busy..."
You're running, sprinting even, to keep up with Jisung's rapid pace of speaking. Korean tumbles out of his mouth in a smooth waterfall, each word naturally clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle.
For you, though, it's like looking at the completed picture upside down. It just doesn't make sense, and you can't tell what's he's asking by his tone like you have before.
"Chan?" You say, questioning. It was the only word you caught.
He nods once, then faster. "His makeup." He points to his leader, a distance away, who is redoing his belt and pulling on his coarse jacket for the next scene.
Jisung points to Chan again, then to his own face. He points to the crossbody bag across your waist, full of your stylist tools, and mimes swiping a brush across his cheeks.
"Oh," you say. "His makeup?"
Jisung nods frantically. You fight a smile; makeup and snacks are the only English words he seems to understand at the moment. Couldn't say you wouldn't have been the same way.
You nod once to him and awkwardly brush past him to go to Chan.
Jisung watches you go.
Chan turns round as you approach, bowing sheepishly as you pull several brushes and a chrome palette from your bag.
"Sorry for ruining it," he says as he closes his eyes. You chuckle and redo the look with a few simple strokes, and step back to make sure it's neat. You swipe a pinky across his cheekbone to remove any excess. "I saw you and Jisung talking."
You sigh. "Wasn't really talking. More..."
"Confusion?" Chan offers with a smile.
You poke him in the side and he shies away, grinning. "How long were you watching us?"
He shrugs casually, looking away. "The whole time."
You groan, cheeks flushing as he laughs. "I wish I could speak Korean fluently... Learning it takes so long, and there aren't any translating apps I can use on a day-to-day basis."
Chan does look at you then, expression empathetic. "I know it's inconvenient, Y/n, but you're making progress. Just keep at it, and while you and Jisung are both learning each other's languages, it'll become easier to communicate over time."
You look towards Jisung, who's currently reenacting the wrestling scene with Seungmin. Rapid, unfamiliar words tumble from the members' mouths at the speed of light as they laugh and clap, and you smile as Jisung emerges from underneath Seungmin with his dark hair covered in feathers.
You sigh. "I hope so."
Chan sighs, touching your shoulder in reassurance. Looking past you, he gazes fondly over the seven members, unaware of you both watching them, and chuckles. "I thought Hyunjin and I were gonna get this music video filming done fast, but... apparently not."
You smile. "I don't think they were too fond of having to do extra practice while you were away."
Chan rolls his eyes and you laugh as he runs a hand through his hair, mussing it further. There's a yelp from behind you, and Chan whips around, faster than lightning. The members have gone silent.
You're both just in time to see Jisung fall off the mattress. His hand scrapes awkwardly along the floor, where tiny fragments of glass from the stunt filming earlier scatter throughout the dust. A deep red line opens up along his forearm, and Chan swears before dashing to his side.
You come up behind Felix, calling to one of the crew members to find a tissue and water as Chan sits Jisung down properly on the mattress, brushing aside feathers.
"Are you okay?" Chan asks in worry, cradling his member's hand.
Jisung winces as a wet rivulet of blood drops onto the floor. The rest of the boys burst into concerned murmurs, jostling to see. You push past Minho with a pack of tissues, handing them to Chan. Cracking open the top of a water bottle, you dampen the centre of a folded piece of tissue and dab it gently along Jisung's forearm. He groans and attempts to pull away, but his leader holds his arm firmly, murmuring reassurance.
"There's a spare room down one of the warehouse corridors," you say to Chan. "I went there earlier to set my things up. There's a first aid kit in there."
"Is there no one on set with one already?" He says, strained. You bite your lip and look to the crew, who all look away, seemingly distracted.
Chan actually growls then, making you recoil, and mutters something that might have either been a string of expletives or a complaint about crew disorganisation.
You suppose his reaction is justified either way.
Folding the water-damp, bloodied tissue, you tuck it into your pocket and stand up. "I can take him to the room there and clean the cut," you offer. "Might be easier without all the glass around."
Chan nods, holding a hand to Jisung to stand up. "I can come with both of you-"
"No," you say firmly. "Focus on filming with Hyunjin. It's getting late and I know both of you want to be done with it. I'll take care of him."
Chan bites his lip in anxiety, clearly struggling to make the decision between staying on set and going with Jisung, but Hyunjin puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Let's get the rest of the shots done, Chan-hyung," he says. "Y/n is more than capable of taking care of the injury."
You blink, not understanding, but it seems to be enough to reassure Chan, who nods and turns away. Hyunjin follows him, and the rest of the members meekly disperse behind the cameras, far quieter than before.
You wind between crew members and filming equipment before heading down the main back corridor of the warehouse, where a spare room splits off into four smaller rooms down the way. Heading into the second door on the right, you hold the door open for Jisung before pulling out the first aid kit from a duffel bag.
You point to a chair as he closes the door. The metal of the knob is scarlet as he lets go. "Sit."
He sits and you place the kit on the cabinet, unzipping a pouch and pulling out a bandage, an antiseptic wipe, and another pack of tissues. Trying to ignore your hands shaking as you do so, you feel your cheeks warm as Jisung shuffles on the chair, a muffled disturbance in the sudden stillness of the room.
You're alone with him.
Biting your lip in an all-too-aware consciousness of the situation, you pull a chair to sit next to him, setting down the items on the plastic table. He rests his arm on the surface as you rip open the antiseptic packet, and then pause.
Gingerly, you place a light hand on his wrist and pull his forearm closer to you, beginning to gently swipe the wet wipe across the cut. A faint smell of chemical rises in the air, and Jisung discreetly exhales, making you crack a tiny smile.
His forearm is tense; you can see the stress of the situation, visible in his body language. The wipe clearly stings him, becoming redder by the minute. He lets out a tiny start, obviously fighting to keep quiet.
You can see him beginning to squirm, his bottom lip caught flush between his teeth as he chews on it in distress.
"Jisung," you say softly, pausing the cleaning to give him a break. "It's okay. You're doing well."
He doesn't respond, focused on the wound. Then, taking a deep breath, his wide eyes meet yours and he gives a tiny nod, signalling for you to continue.
You've cleaned about half of the injury's surrounding area; feeling unbelievably bold, you stroke a gentle thumb across the inside of his wrist as you swipe scarlet off his bare skin, attempting to calm him. He relaxes suddenly, and the exhale of a deeply-held breath fans lightly across your face, stirring your hair. It does nothing to cool the tension building between the both of you.
You fumble to stuff the used, damp wipe back into the packet. Jisung's eyes follow you intently; he seems to have recovered from the initial shock of injury.
He watches curiously as you tilt your head to the side, inspecting the cut, before unravelling a length of a clean rolled bandage. You lay it flat on the clean table before unwrapping four sheets of fluffy gauze, laying it on top. You undo the top off of a small tube of ointment.
"What's that?" He says.
There's a clear question in his tone; taking a wild guess, you hold up the tube. He nods.
"This? Ointment. It's to keep the wound moist," you reply. You're not sure why you bothered; he doesn't understand it anyway, and he just nods politely before continuing to gaze at the tube, most likely attempting to piece its use together in his head.
You let out a tiny sigh, almost fuming at the inconvenience of it all. You want to talk to him, understand him. But you keep quiet, clamp it down, and continue to smear the cream gently across the wound edges with a finger.
He's no longer watching the application of the cream, though; his gaze is fixed intently on your face, as if he's trying to see through you to the other side of the room. You know he's watching; you can feel his eyes burning into you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, attempting to keep composure.
"Y/n," he says softly.
You gulp and look up, pausing your ministrations. He tilts his head to the side, a strange look taking over his features. It's no secret to either of you that you can't understand the other; it seemed to you that Jisung was just never as bothered by the language barrier as you were.
Apparently not.
"Thank you for taking care of me," he says simply. Taking a deep breath, he hopes inwardly that you haven't learnt too much Korean yet, and continues to talk. "I wish I could speak more English, enough for us to communicate. I'm sorry I never told you that before. I know it makes you sad."
Silence.
"I don't know what you're saying," you murmur softly, a look of longing and resignation taking over your expression.
"I don't understand you."
You lean one hand under your head. "I wish we could communicate."
"I wish we could talk properly... This is so frustrating."
Sighing and giving up completely, you tap his wrist, and he brings it closer to you so you can wrap the injury. Delicately placing the gauze sheets along the cut, you begin to firmly wrap the bandage around his forearm, taking care not to cut off his circulation in the process. Securing the bandage with a clip, you stand and begin to dispose of the packets and tissues.
Jisung stands too, unsure, like he's waiting for direction. He opens his mouth to say something, but your thoughts are beginning to run away with you, and you speak them aloud before he has a chance to say anything.
"I wonder what things would have been like if we both spoke the same language." You throw the packets in the bin.
Jisung seems to be lost in his own thoughts too. "Maybe I could ask one of my hyungs to teach me English... or Hyunjin! He knows English too! He might be able to help..."
Yet again, the names of one of his members is the only word you can recognise amongst his rapid-fire speech.
"Hyunjin?" You say. "What about him? Did- should I go get him?" You groan in exasperation and throw your hands out, knocking the ointment off the cabinet from where you've just set it down. "What are you asking for?"
"Sorry, I don't know what you're upset about, but maybe I can ask Chan-hyung and Hyunjin for advice on what to do... Unless you've already talked to them..."
"I bet you'd sound so different talking in English," you're beginning to fume, and you feel bad, because none of this is Jisung's fault. He's Korean, he speaks it, so why are you getting so upset about not being able to communicate through the same language?
Both of you are practically talking to yourselves now; Jisung is clearly lost on another planet, seemingly recovered from the injury. You're beginning to feel yourself sink, no longer nervous around him. Now, you just feel a desperate longing.
To talk. Actually talk.
"Changbin-hyung told me that you don't speak much Korean, but maybe I could teach you? Ah, that wouldn't work, because I'd have to teach you in English first..."
You bite your lip. A dangerous thought crosses your conscience; you could just tell him. About how you feel. He might not even know what you're talking about. He probably won't.
Hopefully.
You decide to risk it. Even if he does understand, you can easily play it off as a translating mistake on his part. No worries.
"Jisung," you say cautiously.
He snaps out of his endless train of thought, and locks his gaze with yours. Like a soldier called to attention.
"Y/n," he says cheekily, though you can see his confident demeanour faltering.
"I really want to be able to talk with you," you continue. "Properly. But maybe it's a good thing we can't understand each other. I can say I love you without you understanding... Gosh, Hyunjin would have a field day making fun of us idiots. Not being able to communicate..."
Jisung blinks. Once. Twice. You see the flutter of his lashes, the cogs turning in his head, and then, very hesitantly, he steps closer. Like you're a wild animal he's trying not to spook.
You take a step back. He takes another forward.
So you step back again. Your back hits the cabinet.
Shit.
Jisung cocks his head; he looks exactly like his quokka counterpart. You blink as he frowns suddenly, then presses his hands together, slipping his fingers in a pattern over the newly wrapped bandage on his forearm.
Around and around and around. And then-
"You love Hyunjin?" Even without understanding, his tone is incredulous. Disbelieving.
"What about Hyunjin?" You say in confusion. "Clearly I've done something wrong, as your tone is telling me, but what does he have to do with it?"
Jisung groans, frustrated. "All this time. I was so happy you came to help me... I thought there might have been something between you and me, but you were just being helpful. Hyunjin, of all people."
You huff. "You keep saying 'Hyunjin' and yet, I still have no idea what you're saying."
Jisung scoffs. "Okay, relax! You don't need to keep talking about how much you love him! I get it... Damn, I'm stupid."
"...Well, you stopped saying his name, but I still don't know what you're talking about, Jisung."
"I wish I could understand you, Y/n."
"I wish you loved me."
"I want to know you. I would never let anyone hurt you, ever... But clearly, I'm not fit for it... I can't even put together a sentence in your language. How am I supposed to love you when I can't even do that?"
Your voices are rising at this point, swelling to fit the room. They mix in the air and rain down in shards, sparkling shards of glass that seem to hurt more than Jisung's forearm injury did.
Every glittering remnant makes your eyes sting until you feel a salty wetness coating your cheeks. The frustration is spilling out of you, the unfairness and utter inconvenience of it all drowning you in tumultuous, crashing waves until you are swept under the dark, powerful current, falling and falling and clawing upwards to air, to breathe, to him, but it doesn't work.
"Why can't things just be easy for once?" You cry out at him. He jolts, taken aback. "I just want to love someone, and here you are, yet I can't even tell you that I love you. I love you, Jisung, and you'll never, ever understand, and it's all my fault because I don't know any Korean enough to talk to you."
He's frozen. Pale as a ghost. And then the colour rises so fast to his face that you step forward, afraid that he might collapse or pass out or experience some other type of wildly unexpected medical occurrence that would probably make your current situation even more upsetting than it already is. If that's even possible.
"Me?" He says. His voice is shaky, strained. "You love me? Not Hyunjin?"
"Fuck, Jisung, this has nothing to do with Hyunjin. Forget about him, I'm talking about you. You might as well know since we can't fucking communicate. Do you even know what I just said, or do I just sound like an angry chicken?"
A look of understanding begins to dawn incredibly slowly on his face. He points to himself, in disbelief but still rather unsure about what you're saying. "Me?"
"Yes, you, you absolute idiot. Shit."
Jisung looks at his hands, then points to himself. He cups his hands and shakily rearranges his fingers, making a comical depiction of a heart. "You?"
"That is the most shit heart I've ever seen you make," you huff. You point to yourself, dramatically enunciating as if he was a child unable to understand anything more than the colour of the sky.
"I." You jab a finger repetitively into your chest.
"Love.." You make a heart, bending your index fingers and pushing your hands towards him. Like he could just take your love the way something might take a glass of water offered to them.
"You," you stab a finger in the air again and again, pointing to him. There's no way he's confused now.
He's still standing there, eyebrows raised, confused and in disbelief. Your mind whirrs.
How can I possibly make this any clearer? I don't know what else I'm supposed to do now... Maybe I should just brush it off and give up. The others must be wondering where we are. Hey, I bet Chan and Hyunjin are finally done filming-
Jisung's mouth crashes desperately onto yours.
Your back throbs as it's pressed against the cabinet; his chest bumps yours and your hands fly to his shoulders, clutching him as if you're drowning. A gasp slips out of your mouth before it's swallowed up; Jisung tilts his head and it's all you can do not to let your knees buckle under him.
You can feel his hair tickling your forehead as he gulps in half a breath of air, so soft, so impossibly soft, like pinfeathers under your fingers just as you'd imagined it to be. You tug him back in, gripping the neckline of his hoodie, trying to make him realise, trying to communicate everything you've been saying without saying anything at all.
He doesn't seem to care about the injury on his arm anymore, and one hand moves to cradle the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer. He's not just kissing you, he's pouring thousands upon thousands of words into you, words he can't ever hope to tell you and words you won't ever understand.
But you do understand.
He pulls back, gasping. Your foreheads bump clumsily against each other's and he holds you fast, panting.
"Jisung," you gasp.
"Y/n," he replies breathlessly. "I love you. I love you."
You finally have some clue as to what he's saying. "I love you too."
He nods frantically, his nose brushing your cheek as he nuzzles into your neck, so hard it almost hurts. But you can't find it in yourself to care, returning the crushing affection with as much strength as you can muster, fuelled by relief and love and irrevocable joy and Jisung.
The hasty explanation of your feelings all this time evaporates off your tongue, burning into ash. You sweep it into a corner of your mind and dust the rest off Jisung's shoulders.
Chan clears his throat.
Both you and Jisung spring apart as if burned. Chan stands in the doorway, arms crossed as he leans against the frame. There's a delighted smirk painted across his face, the remainder of his dark, raw makeup smudged and faded. There's a feather in his hair, and he regards the two of you with a cool stare.
"So," he says slowly, clearly fighting the urge to tease. He speaks in English and Korean, so that both of you can understand.
Chan adjusts his coarse jacket. "Did you two finally manage to communicate? Did you finally manage to talk properly?"
Jisung grins.
a/n: div by @aquazero
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pairing: 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.
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maybe i never left . . .
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 )
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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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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can i be added to the tag list for stupidly perfect it’s so good
done :]
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 🔥: WELCOME HOMEE Y/NNNNN Kiwi 🥝: Hope you slept well. Seungie 🐶: Don't do that again. Thought you were gonna die. We all got excited for a minute. Lixie Pixie 💫: SEUNGMIN Strong Guy 🐇: SEUNGMIN Lee Doesn't Know 💟: 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
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stylist!reader x seungmin or jeongin??? any scenario!!
hi hi~ i needed more seungmin and jeongin requests . . . been wanting to write for them so bad but i couldn't think of anything lol . anyway, here you goo~~~
pairing: stylist!reader x kim seungmin
summary: being seungmin's stylist has its perks (mostly)
genre: idol!au, stylist!au, cheeky boy, soft and fluffy, mentions of jyp (yes that needs a warning), please bring back doberman seungmin he was my fav :(
a/n: sorry idk who made this divider . . . if it was you lmk so i can tag and credit u <3
skz masterlist
you have to drag him everywhere
like by his literal collar
or whatever it is that he's wearing
bc this man does not want to walk
like
anywhere
drag him to the mirror, drag him behind a curtain to fix his outfit
it never ends
and he moves around a lot too while you're doing his makeup
more than once you've gotten chan to hold his jaw shut so you can powder it or fix up his contour
and he always stares at you while you do it
with his little meanie face
you know the one he makes where he's trying to be scary but it doesn't work on anyone so he's just like >:|
yeah that one
complains a lot about his appearance to piss you off
'i don't like the eye makeup' 'i hate this shirt'
it never ends but you're used to it so he kind of gives up after a while
when you got assigned to him, he would stare into your eyes while you were doing his makeup to try and make you fumble
bc let's be honest no one could focus if kim seungmin was staring into their soul
but you got used to that too and now you just ignore it
you always get him to tell you how he's feeling on a certain day so you can sort of match his outfit and makeup to his vibe
if he's in a good mood, lots of scarlet reds and brighter colours
if he's just neutral, then dewy pinks and purples
and if he's having a bad day, lots of metallic silver and black
of course his appearance still has to match the other members' vibes
but you always try to make it a little more special
seungmin would never admit it but he appreciates that so much
most of your job is just looking for him to be honest
like man literally disappears and gets distracted by the tiniest things
there's a bird outside? gone
hyunjin has his back turned and is therefore vulnerable to attack? gone
there's no reason for him to go anywhere?
gone
you've debated putting a tracker in his outfit like a literal dog but you decided against it because it's like playing hide and seek
which is kinda fun
usually he's busy doing something random or looking out the window
or pissing his members off
if worst comes to worst and you can't find him, you just threaten to call chan and he materialises out of thin air
which is kinda funny
and when he won't stay still to let you fix his outfit, you threaten to dress him like jyp
that always works lmao
he just goes absolutely rigid and his eyes go all wide
'please don't'
and you'll just fix his collar or his boots or whatever and off he goes again
multiple times you've told him to put accessories on before he goes on stage
but he always forgets
you've had to drag him backstage countless times before the group went on to perform bc he's forgotten to do what you said
you'll have super steady and nimble hands after a while bc trying to clip a chain necklace on a hyped-up puppy boy is one of the hardest things
like ever
he's just raring to go lol
always runs up to you after performing all sweaty and excited
'did you see me? when i did that move'
or something along those lines
he truly is so soft and sweet but he'll never admit it
and you'll nod and he's have the biggest shiniest prettiest boy smile on his face
stop i'm sad
most of the time he sweats all of his makeup off
and then sheepishly bows to you and apologises for ruining all your hard work
but you shake your head and tell him with a smile that it's fine
and it is, really
he looks hotter when he's all sweaty
huh? what
i didn't say anything
yes i did
after he's warmed up to you
and it takes a while, i'm gonna be completely honest
he refuses to let anyone else do his hair, makeup, or outfit
he just wants you
because you always make sure he can dance properly in his outfit, and that his hair isn't in his eyes, or that he likes his makeup
you would never make him wear anything that makes him uncomfortable either
you're always asking for his input on certain outfit ideas and he tells you honestly what he thinks
and you just take his feedback and make outfits for him that he'll be comfortable in
which makes him swoon for you
again, he would never say anything to you about how he's starting to feel
maybe one day, he thinks he might be able to
until then, he'll settle for looking at your pretty face while you do your thing <3
a/n: yomg i wanna be a skz stylist so baddd (seungmin if ur reading this one chance pls)
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585
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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
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pairing: college roommate!han jisung x reader
summary: jisung realises that he feels something more for his roommate who loves to bake.
genre: college!au, mentions of eating and drinking, slightly suggestive ? kissing, jisung being a whole simp for reader, one sus joke, making cookies (bc i'm craving them so bad rn)
a/n: hihi~ inspired by this post, so i'm tagging @butteredsushi and @jisunggy thanks for the fic inspo guys <3 div by @kodaswrld
skz masterlist
"Whatcha doing?"
You look up just as Jisung, your roommate, enters the kitchen, no doubt drawn by the clattering noises that you've filled the flat with. He hops up on the counter, peeking behind you in interest, where you've set a heap of bowls and pans onto the countertop.
"Just wanted to make something," you exhale, poking his cheek before moving to find the bowl you're looking for. Jisung hums and sits back on the counter, leaning on his hands as he watches you clumsily sift through the pile, muttering to yourself.
"Do I get to eat whatever it is that you're making?" He asks carefully, secretly crossing his fingers in a hope you'll say yes.
You huff and stand up from where you've been bending and peering into the cabinets. "Ji, we literally live together."
"Yeah, but like, were you planning to eat it all by yourself?"
You laugh, gesturing for him to open the cupboard directly below his feet, which he does. "Maybe, but we both know you would have eaten most of it. Do you want to eat something specific?"
"Cookies," he says instantly, not hesitating. His cheeks flush pink.
You roll your eyes, taking out a spoon. "Should've known."
Jisung throws his hands up defensively. "What? They're good for days like this, with the weather how it is right now. Be for real."
He has a point, you think as you look out the window.
It's drizzling in a fine swell over what you can see of the city, a heavy, almost blue fog casting itself like a blanket over the buildings. Classes ended early today, and you'd wanted nothing more to rush back to your dorm and rid yourself of the soaked, cold clothes you'd had to be in all morning.
To say the least, it had been extremely unpleasant weather, and it had taken at least an hour standing under the steaming water of the shower to try and bring your body's temperature up again.
You shiver as your eyes flicker over to the door, your still-wet shoes leaking droplets of storm water onto the plastic bag you'd set them upon in an attempt to keep the floor dry. Jisung was already back from his lecture by the time you got in, and he hadn't even looked up as you'd rushed into your room and slammed the door, soaking wet and chattering as you turned the water on.
At least, you think he hadn't looked up at you. In reality, he'd been waiting for the moment the door would open and you would come in.
But you didn't notice. You never do.
You set two more bowls onto the counter, missing the way Jisung's eyes follow yours as you move across the floor, gaze fixed on the way your hair is still drying, hanging in little damp clusters over your ears and nape. Your cheeks are flushed, most likely from the boiling water you shower in, and your figure is swamped in an oversized hoodie and a pair of grey sweats. His heart jolts as he looks you up and down, trying to fight that warm feeling that seems to rise in his chest every time he meets your gaze.
I have a hoodie that looks almost the same... it looks like you're wearing my clothes. That'd be so hot...
"...and then I had to rush all the way back here because it was so cold and rainy outside. You have a point, to be honest; I was thinking about eating something warm and delicious when I got back, but I wanted something a little bit sweeter- Ji. Ji, are you listening?"
"H-huh?" He shakes his head, thoughts of you in his clothes hastily evaporating. "Uh, yeah."
You point a measuring cup at him cheekily. "Liar. What's wrong? Are you too hot? I can turn the thermostat down if you want... I turned it up super high when I got back because it was so cold-"
"N-no, it's okay," he interrupts. "Sorry. Just a long morning. Classes and all that."
You shoot him a sympathetic look, opening a packet of self-raising flour. "Yeah, I get that. Poor you... And all this rain, too... not really ideal for all the walking we have to do nowadays."
Jisung can't help but smile softly at your rambling, holding the edge of the bowl as you almost knock it off the countertop. Your measuring spoon gets bumped in the process and a small puff of flour spills onto Jisung's knee, dusting the loose, black denim.
"Oops," you say sheepishly, setting the cup down. "Sorry."
He's about to reply and tell you it's okay before his gaze flits down to your hand, which is gently brushing off his knee. And suddenly, he can't seem to focus on anything but your touch. It's warm, even through the thick fabric, and he finds himself wishing you'd bumped the measuring cup a little harder so you could be brushing off all the flour for longer, your fingers gentle against his leg.
He doesn't even mind that there's a subtle white patch on the denim where it spilt.
You scratch the back of your head. "Hang on, let me get a paper towel-"
"No, don't worry," he blurts out. "I-it's fine."
You look up in surprise, tapping another cupful of flour into the bowl before adding a haphazard mix of baking soda, salt, and cornstarch over it. "Are you sure? I'm gonna make a mess in this place. I don't want your clothes to get dirty..."
"It's fine," he says again, a little more confidently. "I can just take them off."
You splutter, sending a puff of flour into the air, making both of you cough as Jisung waves his hands frantically, cheeks scarlet.
"I-i didn't mean it like that," he coughs, flustered. "I meant-"
"I know what you meant," you say, fighting a grin as you turn away to open the fridge. "Honestly, Ji."
He drops his face into his hands just as you crack two eggs into another bowl, heading back to the fridge for the stick of half-finished butter on the top shelf. You've learnt to buy more butter than you think you need; your roommate has a habit of using far too much butter than necessary on his toast. Not that your topping habits are much better; the Nutella jar is usually empty after a day.
Anyways.
Placing the rest of the butter in a small glass bowl, you set the microwave timer for 30 seconds before closing the door. Jisung's eyes follow the bowl spinning round and round inside, the butter seeping and melting into an oily mess against the glass edges.
His fingers tap against the countertop as you move your bowls over to where he's sitting, your shoulder brushing his arm as you busy yourself with tipping brown and granulated sugar into yet another bowl. Jisung cheekily dips his finger into the mixture and brings it to his mouth as you smack his hand away, relishing the raw, saccharine taste of the grains.
"You have to stop doing that.. Ew, Ji!"
He wipes his finger nonchalantly on your arm, much to your disgust. Ignoring your groans, he hums to himself as you take the melted butter from the microwave, slamming the door shut again.
"Stop doing what?" He says innocently.
"Dipping your little thieving paws into the bowls... you'll contaminate it. And wiping said paws on my arm..."
"So?" He says, grinning, ears still red from his earlier comment. "It's not like anyone else but you and me are eating the stuff you make."
You huff and tip the butter into the bowl, spilling half of it in the process. "I'm gonna put raisins in these if you keep provoking me."
"No!"
"Shut up and stop bothering me then," you huff, one hand coming up to matter-of-factly wipe a tiny speckle of sugar from the corner of his lip.
He's about to make a comment, but he goes silent; his face turns the colour of the cherry tomatoes in the fridge crisper as you whisk the butter into the sugar mixture. You don't even notice how quiet he's gone, and as a habit, begin to ramble.
"I can't believe the mixer broke," you say absentmindedly. "I had to search for ages and ages for a recipe that didn't need a mixer for the process. It's actually so much easier to melt the butter too... last time I did this, I didn't mix it all in properly so the cookies tasted horrible after- not that you cared, of course, because I came back to the glass dish where I put them in a day before and they were all gone- Ji, you're not listening again."
"Yes I am," he says, strained. His face is red.
"No you're not. Anyways, I had to find substitutes for most of the ingredients until I could get to the store last week.."
You run off on yet another tangent about the recipe and different methods of baking and flavours, but all Jisung can focus on is the fact that you just touched his lip, wiped away whatever it was that what on his mouth, without so much as blinking. Like it was nothing... He finds himself beginning to panic a little; his face still feels all hot and tingly.
They just wiped my mouth for me... Wait, isn't that what couples do in the movies?? Does that mean.. no, it doesn't, because they didn't even blink when they did it. There's no way they feel the way I do right now, like this- is it hot in here? My face feels so warm...
He's about to lift the neckline of his hoodie to try and fan some air into his body, but not before something sweet-smelling and textured lands on the apple of his cheekbone.
He freezes, watching as you dip a finger into a bowl full of white paste. Frosting.
You know Jisung likes frosting on his cookies; it's a fact he hasn't even told you, but you know from the way he always secretly opens the tub of ready-made icing in the fridge that he likes them to be eaten that way. You always make a bowl of it whenever you bake now, just for him. Currently, you can't get over the look on his face; shocked, and almost distant, like he was distracted by something.
You managed to crack the eggs, mix all the ingredients together, add chocolate chips to the mixture, form the dough into balls, and put it all into the oven without him making so much as a comment. And then slightly warm up the icing too. He's never been this quiet.
Like, ever.
"Are you okay?" You smile. "You look a million miles away."
He gulps and watches as you dip a different finger into the icing, some of it remaining on your lip as you lick your fingertip clean. He can feel the tiny dollop of frosting you've dotted on his cheek. It's probably melting with how hot his face feels.
His gaze never leaves your mouth, and his eyes flit to the mess you've made of the counter; there's not a single ingredient you haven't managed to spill a quantity of. Most of it is staining your clothes too, not that you seem to care.
Y/n...
"Ji?" You wave a hand in front of his face, trying to rid him of the glazed look in his eyes. "What's wrong?"
Silence. Then-
"You look so beautiful," he murmurs.
It slips out so unexpectedly that he can't even bring himself to be surprised or regretful about it; if he never tells you, you'll never know how stunning you look in the moment, all damp hair and flour-smeared cheeks.
And maybe you don't look lovely to anyone else, but to Jisung, he's never seen anything more beautiful. And in a moment of instant clarity, he knows he's regret it forever if he doesn't tell you how he's felt for so long. Or worse, if someone else decides to tell you the same thing, and he never gets his chance...
You blink at the unexpected sentiment, not thinking much of it. "Thanks."
Turning away, you pick up a bowl and deposit it in the sink before Jisung pulls you back by the shoulder, you tumbling between his legs from where he's still sitting on the counter.
You don't even get a moment to process what's happening before his mouth is pressed gently against yours, tasting of sweet icing and brown sugar.
You mold yourself immediately into his embrace as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you a little closer as his head tilts to the left. You're pretty sure he's almost breaking his neck, kissing you like this, but you couldn't care less, and it seems, neither can he.
"Jisung," you exhale against his lips, almost gasping.
"Sorry," he whispers, though there's a hint of cheekiness behind it that he can't quite disguise. "Should've asked to kiss you..."
You giggle and pull him in again, your hands finding their way to his nape, playing with the tiny, soft hairs there before he pulls back to gaze at you. "It's okay."
He looks too far gone now; his hair is deliciously rumpled from you running your fingers every which way through it, his cheeks still stained pink. The frosting on his cheek is smeared, a long, pale streak against the perfect planes of his skin.
You're about to pull him in again, and his mouth eagerly moves towards yours, but he only gets a light brush against your lips before the oven timer rudely interrupts, beeping and echoing in the silence of the flat. He groans as you turn away and reach across to switch it off.
You hear Jisung laugh breathlessly behind you as you peer through the oven glass; the cookies, once round and perfect, have now spread into a chocolatey mess across the baking tray, and you can see several small bits of dough beginning to burn dark against the hot surface of the oven grilles.
"Shit," you mumble as Jisung pulls you back into him, peppering kisses over your face. "I forgot to chill the dough before I put them in..."
"Screw that," he sighs against you. "We should chill instead. Just us, hmm? Cancel whatever plans you had..."
"Done," you whisper. "But what about the cookies-"
Jisung pulls you impossibly closer, his breath a warm fan across your cheeks and neck.
"Forget that," he murmurs. "I have something sweeter."
a/n: i forgot how fun writing jisung is >< asks open !
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps
send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !
Hi Ttokki! 😁 I just wanted to ask if you could possibly write some short scenarios of Stray Kids being protective over their ninth member!maknae!reader? 🙏
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. 💕 Either way, I hope your life is full of happiness! 🫶
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
my masterlist is here if you wanna take a look ><
this post will be up for a while, so also feel free to drop an ask or dm if you want to be added <3
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) 🥹🫶
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 ><
hiiii! i know you’re probably rlly busy with requests but i had an ideaaa
9th member reader who is in a secret relationship with jeongin and the other members are slowly like catching them doing couple-y things or something along the lines of that??
sorry if i didn’t word it right 😭
hihi~ i liked this idea but i wasn't sure how to set it all out... i wanted it to be short and sweet, don't know if i succeeded >< glad i got an innie request, he needed more fics . i just did the members catching on after a short while to make it simpler . here you goooo~~
pairing: secret bf!yang jeongin x reader
summary: when the rest of skz finds out you and jeongin are dating, how will they react?
genre: fluffy to the max, idol! au, skz little shit strong agenda, slightly suggestive, this has no plotline whatsoever i'm sorry
a/n: div by @mikeykuns
skz masterlist
Jeongin groans as he stretches himself out on the bed, almost vibrating with the force of his extension. He bangs his fist on the headboard and you laugh as he whines, burrowing into the sheets.
"Don't laugh," he mutters, though a fond smile graces his fox-like features. "It's been so long since I had a night off."
You nod sympathetically and flop down on the sheets next to him. "Feels strange to not be rushing you off anywhere. You know, since you're always late-"
"No, I'm not!" He interrupts indignantly, sending you into a fit of giggles. "I just forget how quickly time passes sometimes. And at least I have you to tell me when I have stuff to do."
Jeongin's room is dark, the only source of light coming from the pinkish-gold glow of the triangular LEDs above his bed. They're exactly the same as the ones in Chan's bedroom, and not for the first time do you fight the urge to coddle Jeongin for his love of matching items.
You're both sprawled out silently on his bed, the spread ruffled and messy, and Jeongin's eyes are fixed on the closed and locked door. You know it's because he's afraid Chan will try to come in; none of the boys know you're dating each other yet, and you try and shake off the feeling that you're doing something wrong.
After all, you were their ninth member; some would call it a workplace romance, others a scandal. The youngest member of a kpop boy group and a newly added ninth member falling for each other was definitely something that the press would have loved to sink their teeth into. But you've managed to keep it a secret from seven of the nosiest people on earth, so you render the relationship secret and safe for the time being.
And, no matter how anyone else saw it, you thought it fate. Ending up with Jeongin was the best outcome in your view, with you always feeling so loved and warm around him, a bit like a cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter's day. You never went unappreciated, and in turn, he'd dedicated himself with even more fervor to his responsibilities, flushed with energy that came directly from your love. You couldn't have been any prouder.
Keeping it a secret, though, had come with its challenges; you often felt like a spy, having to run rings around the boys and duck out of sight whenever one of them appeared. You felt bad for a little while before realising that it was probably for the best; they would have a field day teasing their maknae if they found out you were dating.
You brush those thoughts aside momentarily as you look across to where your lover is silently staring up at the ceiling, no doubt relishing the quiet comfort of a night in, with no duties or events to rush off to.
"Innie," you say softly.
He responds with a quiet hum, eyes closed.
He must be exhausted, you think. The group had such a busy day; Chan had stayed late at the studio to finish yet another song track, so you'd taken the opportunity to be with Jeongin while you could.
You lean up on one elbow and survey his face; bare, the tiny marks and scars on his skin making him look more beautiful than any cosmetic ever could. You lightly touch the little scar on his jawbone, feeling the slightly raised scar tissue, the dry smoothness of the skin around it, so delicate where the hair starts to grow in tiny, soft waves.
His hair is messy, splayed out against the sheets, a bit like when he wakes up and looks a bit like a lion, his hair sticking out in all directions. You hope against hope that none of the boys will try to burst in and interrupt this precious, silent moment between you.
He's almost fast asleep already, so you lean down and press a chaste kiss to his slightly chapped lips, stroking the soft hair out of his face. Laying down next to him, you peek up to check the door is locked before falling into a heavy, inviting sleep.
.
The second you wake up, you throw off Jeongin's arm, which is laying heavily across your middle. Checking the time, you smooth back your hair and shake the fox-like boy awake.
"Innie," you hiss. "Chan will be back by now. Wake up."
"Oof," he responds.
You sigh and quickly straighten out your appearance in the mirror, slipping on your jacket and then tiptoeing to the door to check for noises. This isn't the first time you've had to sneak out of his room. Hearing nothing, you sigh and soak in the welcoming sunlight streaming from the window, before moving to shake Jeongin awake once more.
"Innie, come on."
"I'm up, I'm up," he groans. "Chan-hyung will probably still be at the studio... he always works til the morning..."
"I gotta go, then," you say, checking your watch. Ten minutes til you have to head down to the studio for a Tiktok video filming. "See you later."
You can barely hear his sad, murmured goodbye as you head out the door.
.
"Sleep well, Y/n?" Felix asks as he runs through the dance steps again.
You nod, side-eyeing him in suspicion. Does he know about you and Jeongin? "Yeah, thanks. I fell asleep in Jeongin's room."
"Not the first time you've done that," Hyunjin laughs. It's no secret that you would often head to the Jeongchan dorm for some better shut-eye; somehow, being in Jeongin's room always helped. And it was the perfect excuse to be with him too, away from prying eyes and unwanted interruptions.
You've all been at the studio for around two hours now; the boys are beginning to get tired of rehearsing the comeback routines, but after an insistent Seungmin begging for a break, Chan finally gives in and allows the boys and you a moment of respite.
You sigh and flop down against the wall, eyes tracking Jeongin across the room. He's taking swigs of water and fanning himself; no doubt sweaty from the dance exertion.
"Y/n," Chan says from above you.
"Hey," you say, not bothering to look at him. "Need something?"
"Actually, yes," he moves to sit down next to you, stretching out his legs in front of him. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
You turn to look at him them, expression betraying nothing. "No," you say cautiously. "Why?"
He holds up your phone between two fingers, an eyebrow raised in a pointed expression. Hyunjin and Jisung snicker from behind one of the couches lining the back wall.
"Where'd you find that?" You glower at him, knowing you've been caught.
He chuckles. "Wasn't a secret, Y/n. You slept in Jeongin's room last night, didn't you?"
You shrug, holding onto a shred of hope that he somehow still doesn't know. "So? I fall asleep there all the time."
"Seems a little strange considering the fact you have a perfectly good dorm of your own," he replies without missing a beat. "Minho and Jisung hardly see you anymore. Your shelves in your room are dusty as hell at this point. Why Jeongin's room?"
You shrug, looking at your faraway reflection in the mirrors. "He's my friend, and it's easier to sleep when he's near me."
"Right," Chan drawls, tossing your phone onto your lap. "Because it's perfectly normal for you and Jeongin, friends, to be sleeping in the same room, on the same bed."
"So? You and Felix do the same thing."
Chan makes an exasperated noise. "Just admit you're dating each other. I already got Jeongin to spill."
You choke on your tongue then, spluttering in disbelief. Hyunjin dissolves into cackles. "What?"
"Yep," he replies, remorseless. "Made him admit it without trying. It wasn't hard when he's always looking at you so lovestruck."
You scoff and look away. "It's none of your business anyhow."
Chan puts a hand on your shoulder as Jisung makes a dirty comment in the background. "It's okay if you're dating him, Y/n. Just- there are some things that shouldn't get too public, you know? For safety reasons."
You sit up, indignant. "But we're keeping it quiet, I swear. None of you even knew til a week ago."
He nods just as you shoot an accusatory glare at Jeongin across the room, silently betrayed. "That's true, Y/n, but just be careful. Congratulations, anyway."
You sigh just as Jeongin sheepishly comes over, bowing half-heartedly to you as he settles against your legs. "Sorry, Y/nnie."
"It's okay," you whisper. "They were gonna find out anyway."
"Chan-hyung is a detective," he says honestly. You laugh and stroke his slightly damp hair.
"Oh, and just a note," Chan coughs awkwardly. "Jisung overheard me telling Felix about it and now the whole group knows..."
"Took you two lovebirds long enough," Minho calls snidely from the other side of the room, Seungmin snickering beside him.
Hyunjin interrupts. "How long have you two been dating in secret anyway?"
You look up at the ceiling, thinking. "Maybe two months?"
"Two months!" He screeches, flailing and almost hitting Changbin in the face.
"Get them married already," Jisung rolls his eyes, giggling.
You groan and bury your face in your hands, fighting a smile.
"We kinda asked for the teasing, to be honest," Jeongin whispers.
"Yeah," you say, resigned and affectionate. "That's true."
a/n: my sweet sweet innie
NONONONONONOOOOOO NO SIRREE YOU CANNOT JS LEAVE US W STUPIDLY PERFECT LIKE THAT NUH UHHHHHH PART 2 PART 2 PLSPLSPLS OR AT LEAST JS TELL ME IF SHE DIED I NEED TO KNOW SO I CAN MOVE ON 😭😭
hahah we'll see lol . . .
might release a part 2 once the first part hits 150 notes. that's how i usually decide whether to write a part 2 ><