IM SO EXCITED FOR YHE NEW SERIES EEEEK CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHP

movie nights - leeknow

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: you and your boyfriend have a friday night tradition

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, little bit of crack, mild suggestiveness

a/n: hopefully this gains me some momentum... also do i call him leeknow or minho? who knows. (ha get it?) divider by @chilumitos

"Minho!" you shriek. "Give it back!"

Said man does not give it back, instead standing even higher on his tippy toes and holding your favourite plushie out of reach. A cheeky grin is stretched across his face. He holds the calico cat plushie just out of your grasp, swaying it back and forth.

You leap up onto the couch, almost slipping on the throw blanket draped haphazardly over its back, and stretch out towards minho. He steps back just as your fingertips brush the soft material and does a little dance, laughing at your reaction. The movie that was playing in the background has been long forgotten.

"Min," you whine. "Just give it back..."

Friday night movies had always been a tradition between you two. You both came up with the idea when you moved into your first place, celebrating the move-in with a movie and your favourite snacks. Every Friday after that, Minho would knock on your door, and you'd answer to a grinning cat, his arms laden with snacks and drinks. Then you two would pick a movie and cuddle as you watched it.

Sometimes you would poke fun at the characters and their actions, other times the atmosphere would be amiable and quiet. Not tonight.

You yelp as you slip off the couch, groaning when you hit the floor on your knees. Collapsing forward into the mountain of cushions, you glare up at Minho, huffing in defeat. He stands above you, still holding the plushie in the air, like he's not sure whether to drop it and ask if you're okay or continue dancing like the absolute madman he is.

You hope he does the first.

Safe to say, he does not.

Minho throws his head back and laughs so loudly it reverberates through the rooms. Then, as if it's an afterthought, he drops to his knees and tosses the plushie aside, scattering snacks and packets and drinks as he sits next to you. He clumsily knocks a few other things off the coffee table, rendered utterly unstable by his mirth.

You groan. "It's not funny."

He snickers, touching your arm gently. "It is a little."

You huff and roll over, facing away from him as you sulk. A haughty smile tugs at your lips as he prods your side, whining. Suddenly collapsing on top of you, he pokes your nose.

"Yeobo, stop ignoring mee...."

You groan and let out an oof as he shifts. He's gotten stronger and more muscly, which also means he's heavier (in the best possible way, of course). You can hardly breathe and a wheeze escapes you at the sudden realisation. Squirming away, you dislodge your legs and make a run for the plushie, scrambling across the floor. Minho yelps, grabbing your ankle. You squeal as he pulls you back, climbing up so you're both face to face. He smirks and grabs the plush with his long, slender arms.

"Minho, just-"

"Ah ah ah," he taps his lips, grinning. "Kiss. Then i'll give it back."

You sigh, and relent. He tastes like strawberry soda and fried chicken. His hand creeps to the back of your neck, stroking the shorter hairs there. You turn your head, breaking the kiss. Glaring at him, you sit up and smack him lightly on the arm.

"Now give it back."

Minho grins mischievously, and throws the plushie across the room. It lands somewhere down the hallway, and you crane your neck to see where it's gone. Your vision spins suddenly as Minho grabs your shoulders, pulling you back down onto the comfy pile of pillows and blankets. He smirks.

"Just one more kiss-"

"Minho!"

a/n: requests are open <3

hello 🤗 saw that yours reqs are open and i was thinking about a anxious reader that can't sleep and is tired and changbin calming and lulling them to sleep

hello lovely anon ! ooo this is a good request. i didn't know if you wanted reader to be feeling anxious about something in particular, so i just did general worry and anxiety. enjoy <3

insomnia - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

summary: you're struggling to fall asleep due to anxiety, but changbin is there to help.

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, comfort, reader struggles to fall asleep, mentions of anxiety, slight mentions of a panic attack

a/n: comments are appreciated <3

The night is cold.

Everything is perfect; outside is quiet, immured in the sheath of a late-night sky, there's no traffic outside the apartment, and the lights inside are off. The bedroom is dark, and at the perfect temperature. The hum of the AC sends cooling waves of chilly air over the room, contrasting with the warm duvet.

But you can't sleep.

Tossing onto your side for the fifth time, you huff frustratedly and almost whack Changbin in the process as you shift. He's fast asleep next to you, his face lit only by the dimmed purple and green lights emitting from the gaming setup in the corner. The bedsheets are tangled round his bulky frame, muscly arms splayed over your waist. His jet-black hair fans out messily against the stark white of the pillow. His mouth is slightly open, and he's lost in the deep, dreamless sleep of the utterly exhausted. He'd had a massive day at work, and had come home late at night and gone straight to sleep after quickly eating. He hadn't moved since collapsing onto the bed.

In the dim lights, you can just barely see him, and you pause to gaze at his face, highlighted in muted tones of violet and lime green. He looks so relaxed, so at peace.

You wish you could feel the same way.

Your brain is wide-awake, but you feel absolutely shattered. The anxiety and worry gnawing at the lining of your stomach isn't helping much either. A million thoughts race through your head, swirling and zooming and cluttering your mind. The storm rages and thunders until all you can hear is the deafening rush of your worries drowning you in a tidal wave of uneasiness and apprehension.

Turning to lie on your back, you gently pry Changbin's arm off your waist, laying it carefully by his side. You trace a little pattern on his arm before pulling away and clenching your hand in a fist by your side. The last thing you want to do right now is wake him up.

Blinking to try and clear your mind, you try to think of a logical solution to your worries. But it's like your rationality has ceased to exist, throwing you further into the raging storm. No matter what you do, it doesn't feel like it'd help at all. You think you've run through almost every possible but useless solution to your problem by the time the LED clock on the bedside table hits midnight. Nothing is working, nothing will help.

Exhaling harshly through your nose, you throw off the duvet and shiver as your bare feet hit the cold floor. You tuck the blanket into the crook of Changbin's arm so he doesn't feel your absence in his sleep. You hear him grunt softly in his sleep and tug the blanket closer.

Once you're sure he won't wake up, you creep to the window and sit down on the floor, leaning against the wall. The night is cool and serene, and you close your eyes, envisioning yourself becoming part of the night sky, a symbol of peace and tranquility. You shiver again, more intensely this time, as the cold begins to seep into your bones beneath your thin nightclothes. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you take a shaky breath, trying to keep it together.

Why can't I just fall asleep? Why can't I stop worrying?

The more you question yourself, the more your anxiety increases. It peaks and takes a firm hold of your mind, gripping it and squeezing until all that is left is a mess of uncontrollable chaos and jumbled thoughts. You don't even realise when your breathing begins to speed up and you cover your mouth, desperately trying not to make noise. The storm thunders wildly in your head, pounding and raging, and you feel yourself falling into the deep abyss, perhaps forever. Never to be found again, like a sinking stone at the bottom, of a deep, dark, cold, lonely ocean.

It's too much it's too much it's too much-

You feel a pair of strong, warm arms wrap around your torso. You gasp like you've been lifted out of the ocean you were drowning in. Changbin's arms are a life ring, floating you back upwards, helping you break the surface with a heavy, gasping breath that makes you slump into his chest with a choked sob.

"Binnie," you cry weakly, clinging to him.

He shushes you gently, rocking back and forth with you in his arms. His big, warm hand rubs soothing circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, hushing you and carefully bringing you down from the panic.

He keeps gently rocking like that, and you close your eyes against his chest, relishing his warmth. Your tears stain salty tracks down your face and seep into the material of his shirt, but Changbin doesn't mind. He kisses your forehead lightly and whispers an "i love you" in your ear before picking you up gently and taking you to bed. The warmth of the bedsheets and the heat from Changbin's body as he tucks you into his chest slowly lull you to sleep.

The storm finally settles.

a/n: for anyone who has anxiety or similar conditions, feel better ! i tried to write this as accurately as possible, and i based the panic attack off a personal experience i had. everyone's different but i hope this helped. thank you anon <3

yang jeongin - skz fluff headcanons

pairing: yang jeongin x reader

summary: innie headcanons

genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort, general fluff headcanons, maknae shenanigans

a/n: i haven't written stuff in a while tbh but anyways. thank you for 200 everyone !!

skz masterlist

so

you're dating jeongin

congratulations

he's a little shit

when you first start being together he'll be kind of quiet and shy

which is cute

he'll be doing things like opening the door for you or cooking for you

just that partner lovey dovey stuff you know

but wait til both of you get closer

the relationship will just descend into chaos

and if you were friends with him before you started dating

that chaos will be even worse

jeongin is the type of guy to purposely annoy you and take it a step further because you're so close with him

he'll steal your charger for his phone even if yours is half dead

and then he'll keep it until you have to use it

which results in the rest of the skz members getting used to texting you through jeongin's phone

because you have to literally beg him to give your charger back

all that nice guy stuff just evaporates as soon as he feels comfortable around you

like if you have to go through a door

innie will go first and then slam the door shut so you have to stop and open it again

which has resulted in several injuries

once you went to his dance practice and walked back to his dorm together

and he went through a door and slammed it

because he's a little shit

and you weren't feeling your sharpest that day so you walked right into it

as the door was closing too

chan, who wasn't far behind, had to literally carry you into the dorm because you were so dazed

all in all, jeongin learned to not do that anymore

also because he got scolded by leader hyung and chan is scary when he's mad

sometimes he feels like doing it to you but he doesn't because he doesn't want to hurt you

anyway

we all know that skinship isn't exactly innie's thing

unless he's super comfortable with the person giving it to him

i feel like he would be the type to just do little tiny acts of affection

maybe like resting his head on your lap while you work or on your shoulder when you're busy

or holding your pinky instead of your whole hand

i think he would be the type to accept physical affection from you because it's his partner, you know

but i don't think he'd be into giving it much

jeongin isn't the type to like full blown cuddling and spooning and all that stuff

he likes soft, purposeful affection in small doses

and when he's had a bad day or he's not in a good mood or something happened, he will be asking for affection

obviously not verbally because our maknae is too cool for that

but he might lightly tug at your hand til you sit down with him or nuzzle his head into your side if you're lying down

please he's literally a fox

protect him at all costs :(

i also feel like innie is the type to be quite impulsive sometimes

like it'll be a random tuesday afternoon when you walk into the bathroom and he's standing over the sink, cutting all his hair off

"JEONGIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING"

"i wanna look like hyunjin hyung :("

either that or he's dying it

or drawing all over himself

or eating things he shouldn't

you've seen him try to bite the corner off a brick wall and jisung swears up and down that innie has eaten deodorant

there's a reason why you keep yours in a drawer now

just in case

anyway

we know innie is also our fashion king

definitely the type to like little items like matching rings or phone cases

he tries to persuade you into matching weird shoes but that's too far for you right now

so he settles for other matching things like hoodies

and necklaces!!!

lots of matching necklaces!!

jeongin will never admit it but he likes having a piece of you close to his heart

whether that's in the form of a pendant or otherwise

aww

you guys also have those matching magnetic socks

you know those ones

with the little faces and the magnetic hands that connect when you sit next to the person who's wearing the other pair

yeah those

google it if you don't know

innie loves those and more than once has managed to persuade you into wearing them at award shows and other work events

hidden under your dress of course

and his hidden under his suit

like chan and hyunjin, he also beefs with the stylists about not taking off the matching jewelry you guys have

the stylists literally have to hold him down to take it off him because it just doesn't match

but he always puts it back on afterwards anyway

because he's maknae on top and nobody tells him what to do >:(

they've given up at this point

but they understand that he loves you and wants to keep you close

at skz concerts where they can throw water, innie will always look directly into the crowd for you

then he'll give you a cute smile before drenching you in a sacrilegious amount of water

you've learnt to bring towels and an umbrella to concerts now

jeongin also manages to rope seungmin and minho into it too

so wherever you go, be warned because one of them is always waiting to just dump water over your head

you could always tell chan about it but you let them have their fun

for now anyways

after concerts, you and jeongin always go back to the dorm or the hotel if skz is on tour at that time

and you'll wash all the night air and now-cold water out of each other's hair

if you're nice innie will let you dry his hair

but you're not allowed to style it

that's law

sometimes you get annoyed with how much water innie throws at you during concerts

you stopped being annoyed when felix secretly told you that jeongin drenches you at concerts on purpose so both of you can spend more time afterwards cleaning up together and drying off in each other's company

which is cute

all in all, innie is a mischievous little shit but he loves you

so so much

even if he doesn't go about showing his love conventionally

he makes sure that you never doubt he loves you

so

you're dating jeongin

congratulations

he's a little shit

when you first start being together he'll be kind of quiet and shy

which is cute

he'll be doing things like opening the door for you or cooking for you

just that partner lovey dovey stuff you know

but wait til both of you get closer

the relationship will just descend into chaos

and if you were friends with him before you started dating

that chaos will be even worse

jeongin is the type of guy to purposely annoy you and take it a step further because you're so close with him

he'll steal your charger for his phone even if yours is half dead

and then he'll keep it until you have to use it

which results in the rest of the skz members getting used to texting you through jeongin's phone

because you have to literally beg him to give your charger back

all that nice guy stuff just evaporates as soon as he feels comfortable around you

like if you have to go through a door

innie will go first and then slam the door shut so you have to stop and open it again

which has resulted in several injuries

once you went to his dance practice and walked back to his dorm together

and he went through a door and slammed it

because he's a little shit

and you weren't feeling your sharpest that day so you walked right into it

as the door was closing too

chan, who wasn't far behind, had to literally carry you into the dorm because you were so dazed

all in all, jeongin learned to not do that anymore

also because he got scolded by leader hyung and chan is scary when he's mad

sometimes he feels like doing it to you but he doesn't because he doesn't want to hurt you

anyway

we all know that skinship isn't exactly innie's thing

unless he's super comfortable with the person giving it to him

i feel like he would be the type to just do little tiny acts of affection

maybe like resting his head on your lap while you work or on your shoulder when you're busy

or holding your pinky instead of your whole hand

i think he would be the type to accept physical affection from you because it's his partner, you know

but i don't think he'd be into giving it much

jeongin isn't the type to like full blown cuddling and spooning and all that stuff

he likes soft, purposeful affection in small doses

and when he's had a bad day or he's not in a good mood or something happened, he will be asking for affection

obviously not verbally because our maknae is too cool for that

but he might lightly tug at your hand til you sit down with him or nuzzle his head into your side if you're lying down

please he's literally a fox

protect him at all costs :(

i also feel like innie is the type to be quite impulsive sometimes

like it'll be a random tuesday afternoon when you walk into the bathroom and he's standing over the sink, cutting all his hair off

"JEONGIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING"

"i wanna look like hyunjin hyung :("

either that or he's dying it

or drawing all over himself

or eating things he shouldn't

you've seen him try to bite the corner off a brick wall and jisung swears up and down that innie has eaten deodorant

there's a reason why you keep yours in a drawer now

just in case

anyway

we know innie is also our fashion king

definitely the type to like little items like matching rings or phone cases

he tries to persuade you into matching weird shoes but that's too far for you right now

so he settles for other matching things like hoodies

and necklaces!!!

lots of matching necklaces!!

jeongin will never admit it but he likes having a piece of you close to his heart

whether that's in the form of a pendant or otherwise

aww

you guys also have those matching magnetic socks

you know those ones

with the little faces and the magnetic hands that connect when you sit next to the person who's wearing the other pair

yeah those

google it if you don't know

innie loves those and more than once has managed to persuade you into wearing them at award shows and other work events

hidden under your dress of course

and his hidden under his suit

like chan and hyunjin, he also beefs with the stylists about not taking off the matching jewelry you guys have

the stylists literally have to hold him down to take it off him because it just doesn't match

but he always puts it back on afterwards anyway

because he's maknae on top and nobody tells him what to do >:(

they've given up at this point

but they understand that he loves you and wants to keep you close

at skz concerts where they can throw water, innie will always look directly into the crowd for you

then he'll give you a cute smile before drenching you in a sacrilegious amount of water

you've learnt to bring towels and an umbrella to concerts now

jeongin also manages to rope seungmin and minho into it too

so wherever you go, be warned because one of them is always waiting to just dump water over your head

you could always tell chan about it but you let them have their fun

for now anyways

after concerts, you and jeongin always go back to the dorm or the hotel if skz is on tour at that time

and you'll wash all the night air and now-cold water out of each other's hair

if you're nice innie will let you dry his hair

but you're not allowed to style it

that's law

sometimes you get annoyed with how much water innie throws at you during concerts

you stopped being annoyed when felix secretly told you that jeongin drenches you at concerts on purpose so both of you can spend more time afterwards cleaning up together and drying off in each other's company

which is cute

all in all, innie is a mischievous little shit but he loves you

so so much

even if he doesn't go about showing his love conventionally

he makes sure that you never doubt he loves you

a/n: divider by @cafekitsune

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

what you're worth - (bang chan x 9th member!reader)

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

send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !

the fast lane : part 3 (bangchan x reader x felix)

Summary: Welcome to the world of underground street racing. Chan is known for his flashy cars and confident attitude. You're new to the racing scene, eager but inexperienced. Felix is known for his sneaky tactics and charming demeanour. What happens when all three of your worlds collide?

Warnings: skz racer!au, fluff, soft minho, brief mention of a past injury (read part two for context if you haven't already) reader gets tangled up in a mess, angsty chan and minho wc 3.2 k

series masterlist

part 3 : porcelain and gold

Y/n groaned for the millionth time, banging her forehead on the wheel. Her hands clenched the cool leather beneath her fingertips and she let out a heaving sigh, squeezing her eyes shut.

The arena was bright and silent, glaring floodlights casting an almost blinding glow onto the lined up cars. The road was cool and damp, fresh from the light rain. The sky was murky with early-morning fog, shades of yellow and orange peeking out from behind the clouds. Y/n could distantly hear birdsong and the noise of the city upstreet, but right now, everything was quiet. Racing on the empty track, devoid of any obstacles or cars reassured Y/n a little, and she knew that if she made a mistake, nothing too bad would happen. But she still felt tense.

Sighing and starting the car again, she drove to the side tarmac, rolling down the window and cutting the revving engine.

Minho leaned down, forearms resting on the window frame. He tilted his head and pressed a couple fingers lightly into her shoulder, firm but gentle. Y/n looked up.

"That was better," he said quietly, nodding.

Y/n sighed, defeated. "It's not good enough-"

Minho interrupted, "Do you think I would have offered to get up this fucking early to train you for no reason? No. You're doing well, okay? It's just the turns that you need to work on."

Y/n bit her lip, fighting the rising pit of anxiety in her stomach. Opening the door, she stepped out and leaned against the cool surface of the car, trying to slow her breathing. Minho said nothing, simply letting her recuperate. When Y/n finally opened her eyes, she looked straight up at the man standing in front of her, eyes tired but sincere.

"I really do appreciate this, Minho, but I don't feel that I'm getting any better. It just feels like I'm going in circles."

Minho blinked. "You are going in circles. That's the whole point."

Y/n's mouth lifted up at the corners and she chuckled, punching the man lightly on the shoulder. He grinned and leaned against the car- his car- next to her.

Y/n had decided to take a couple days' break from racing, instead focusing on getting back to 100 percent. The cut in her neck had healed slowly, leaving her with nothing but a small, white scar on her nape. Her head felt better too, no longer bruised or sore. Since the street races ran almost every night, Y/n had decided to go back a couple days after the night when Minho had dropped her home.

She'd found him lurking around the backstage arena, watching the races. He had looked up in surprise, barely-masked, thankful relief, and something else. Some glint in his eyes that Y/n couldn't quite pinpoint. He'd unexpectedly smiled when Y/n had walked up to him and shyly proffered him a lollipop, exactly like the one he'd been sucking on the night she hit her head. Y/n remembered the way he'd almost immediately stuffed it in his mouth, smiling around the thin, white stick.

You'd both spent the night up in the arena stands, out of the light and out of the other racers' sight. Just quietly observing, testing the waters around each other. Y/n had felt tense at being in such close proximity with him, but it had slowly melted away over the next few hours.

Minho was actually quite funny. In a sadistic, sarcastic way, but Y/n adored it nonetheless. He was quiet and intellectual, but ambitious and unafraid. He was a contradiction in all of the best ways.

She'd continued visiting him at the arena most nights, and you would both often end up in the stands, talking into the early hours of the morning about various things. But as much as they talked, Y/n continued to feel as if she didn't know much about him at all. Minho had a way of dodging questions smoothly and turning them on her, often so seamlessly that she didn't even realise until she replayed her interactions with him in her mind later on.

This little routine of visiting had continued for about a week and a half, and Y/n was simply content to keep it that way. But Minho had other ideas, telling her one night that she'd benefit from training instead of just winging her races. Y/n had denied it, retorting with the fact that she had no one to teach her. She'd thought about asking Chan, but she didn't trust him at all, and besides, he seemed to be too busy working on or fixing his car, racing (and winning, unfortunately), and flirting with the pretty women fawning over his racecar. She had told Minho about the ordeal with Chan the first night they'd met, and how cocky he was. Minho had simply nodded.

"We used to be close friends," he'd told her. "But we don't talk anymore."

Then he'd changed the subject.

Used to be. Y/n wondered if something had happened between them. Did they fall out? Did they decide not to talk anymore for some unknown reason? Or did they both just choose their separate pathways and slowly lose their connection with each other?

Y/n wanted so badly to ask Minho about what had happened, but it felt wrong, almost demanding. Seeing as he had been so kind to her, Y/n felt that it was rude to ask him something so personal, even if she wasn't sure why he had decided to befriend her in the first place. And if she was being honest, Y/n also felt that he wasn't really the kind of person who would welcome such a personal question with an open heart and mindset.

She also wasn't really sure if she and Minho were friends. Sure, he was nice and all, but could she really trust him? What if he was just like Chan? What could he possibly be trying to achieve by befriending her?

No, Y/n shook her head. He wasn't like that, she was sure of it.

Said man's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Blinking up at him, she stopped dead in her tracks. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even realised they'd left the arena.

They were standing in front of a little cafe. Y/n recognised it briefly, realising she'd passed it so many times before during her walks to the arena. She'd never stopped to look at it. It was quite pretty, and-

Minho flicked her forehead.

"Ow," she whined, hands pressing over the sore spot. "What'd you do that for? And why are we here-"

Minho rolled his eyes. "Well, I flicked your forehead because you've been in your head all day. You didn't even realise when we left the arena. I'm not sure you even knew that you were walking. And secondly, I'm hungry and this place has good food. Come on."

He took her hand and tugged her inside, the little bell above the shop door tingling. He led her to a little table booth in the far corner, pushing her lightly to sit down. It was a light push but Minho's standards, but Y/n knew that sometimes he forgot his own considerable strength and she almost stumbled, landing on the cushioned booth seat with an oof. Minho disappeared for a few minutes and Y/n realised he'd gone to the front to get something to eat. She hadn't brought money with her to buy anything, but she wasn't really hungry, so she sat back and looked out the window, waiting for him to return.

The cafe was modern but cute, boho-chic furnishings making up the majority of the wooden tables and chairs. The rest of the tables and chairs were white, and it all contrasted nicely against the various, lush, potted plants spilling their vines and leaves down wooden, high-set shelves. The counter up the front had a display glass lining its expanse, and behind it were stocked all sorts of pastries and other food. The place was pretty much empty and Y/n wondered why before realising that it was extremely early. Not even caffeine-lovers came down to buy their daily coffee this early. The lights were off, and there was no need for them to be on, since the sunlight spilling into the cafe from the large windows illuminated everything in a soft, golden glow. Y/n began to feel sleepy.

Minho walked up, holding two mugs and a slice of cheesecake on a pretty silver tray. He set it down and pushed one of the mugs towards her. The rich scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted into her face, filling her lungs with a pleasantly soft, warm, and spicy aroma. She inhaled deeply before looking up at Minho questioningly.

"Is this for me?" she said quietly, almost hesitantly.

He took a big gulp from his own mug before setting it down and inclining his head. "Yeah."

Y/n felt a warm flush tingle on her cheeks. "You didn't have to, Minho."

He rolled his eyes and took another gulp from the mug. "You're right, I didn't have to, but I wanted to. But if you don't want it, feel free to starve," he took one of the forks from the tray and cut the cheesecake slice into two halves, putting one on his tea plate and pushing the other half towards her. Y/n smiled.

"Cheesecake?"

Minho nodded. "Mmm. My friend loves it. I always order it when I come here. Reminds me of him."

Y/n smiled sincerely, staying quiet. She filed away this unexpected piece of personal information into a hidden chamber of her heart. The last thing she wanted to do was scare him into closing up again, and she nodded her head in acknowledgement before taking a sip from her mug.

The sweet, intoxicating heat of vanilla foam and the spicy, gingerbread-like taste of cinnamon flooded her body and she sagged back into the booth seat.

"Oh," she groaned. "This is so good..."

She heard Minho chuckle. Feeling a little bolder, she sat upright again and glanced at him curiously. He was dressed in black leather, a dark grey hoodie under his leather jacket. She could hear his combat boots absentmindedly tapping on the floor. His hair shone a lighter purplish-brown under the sunlight spilling onto the table, and his eyes were lightened to a honey brown. Y/n noticed his hands fiddling with the handle of his mug, the fingertips running up and down the smooth, ceramic surface. Y/n wondered if he was nervous, or perhaps upset about something.

"Min, are you okay?" she asked gently and quietly.

"Hmm? Yeah, sorry," he blinked at her, as if he'd snapped out of a daze. Y/n felt a knot of worry settle in the pit of her stomach, and feeling brazen, she reached out and placed a slender, much smaller hand over his. Heat from his hand flooded into hers.

Minho looked up in surprise, his fidgeting stopping. They locked eyes for a moment before Y/n pulled her hand away slowly, unsure of his reaction. She kicked herself mentally, worried she'd overstepped a boundary.

To Y/n's surprise, he chuckled. He didn't move his hand or snap at her like she had expected him to. He looked her right in the eyes, and Y/n swore for a second that there was a flash of gratefulness in his gaze. Y/n's palm froze and she smiled back, almost uncertainly.

Then, to complete this entirely unlikely scenario, Minho took her hand, calloused fingertips brushing her wrist, and placed it between his palms. Again, he was firm and gentle; not too much force, nor too little. Simply steady and reassuring.

Heat flooded Y/n's cheeks. She hadn't expected that he would be so open to her affection. He noticed her scarlet cheeks and smirked, his voice coming a little lower than before.

"You called me Min."

Y/n squeaked in embarrassment and looked away, flushing. She attempted to pull her hand out of his grip, but he was unrelenting.

"It-it was just a heat of the moment thing," she stuttered.

Minho laughed, the sound light like the foam in her mug. "Heat of the moment? Are you sure that's the phrase you were going for?"

"Shut up."

Minho chuckled before settling back into the booth seat. "It's fine, by the way."

"What is?"

He huffed a little. "I don't mind you calling me Min. But not in a sappy, lovey-dovey way, got it?"

Y/n lifted her mug to her mouth in order to hide her smile.

-

Minho opened the door to the passenger seat of his racecar, slamming the door shut. He didn't bother putting his seatbelt on, and Y/n chided him before revving the engine and speeding off. They'd returned to the arena after spending almost two and a half hours in the cafe, both of them having been too caught up in their animated conversation to notice the time passing by.

The arena was still empty, and the afternoon sun shone high in the sky. The floodlights hadn't turned on yet, and it was the sun that caught the sleek angles and edges of Minho's car as Y/n steered it around the arena track. Her hands gripped the smooth leather of the wheel and her feet danced across the pedals as Minho instructed her through the turns.

"Good, that's it- turn a little more, angle the car."

Y/n did as he said, fingers digging into the steering wheel as she sped up and executed the turn perfectly.

Minho let out a whoop of triumph and Y/n laughed in disbelief, pulling the car to the side of the track. She stumbled out and so did Minho, who swooped her up in a sudden, unexpected hug.

"Took you long enough," he said, grinning. He set her back down onto the tarmac, cheeks flushed. Whether it was in exhilaration or something else, Y/n didn't know. She was too happy to care.

The laughter died down and Y/n gazed up at Minho, his dark eyes locking with her own. They both stood there, Minho's arms encircling Y/n's waist where he'd lifted her, and her arms clutching his broad shoulders where she'd held on. He looked so pretty, the sun smoothing all his features into ivory porcelain and molten gold. Y/n saw his cheek tuck in slightly, like he was biting the inside of it. He leaned down slightly, and opened his mouth to say something, a slight flash of guilt flickering in his eyes, and then-

"What a performance."

Y/n and Minho both jerked their hands off each other like they'd been caught doing something wrong.

Chan was walking across the tarmac towards them. He was clapping slowly and the sound echoed throughout the arena, causing an unpleasant chill to run down Y/n's spine. One of Minho's hands was still on her waist and she felt it tighten infinitesimally around her hip.

Chan reached them, smirking. He had put his hands into the pockets of his racing suit, the same black and red one he'd worn the night Y/n had met him. This time, she disliked him even more.

Chan's smile faded as his eyes flitted to Minho. Y/n glanced up at her friend just as his hand dropped from her waist. He looked suddenly pale.

"Minho?" she said hesitantly. But he didn't seem to hear, his eyes fixed on the racer. Y/n saw the lines of his shoulders tense just as Chan spoke.

"I didn't think you'd have the guts to show up here, Minho," his voice was cool and calm, yet tinted with an undertone of menace.

"I've been here spectating most nights."

"I know," Chan's voice lowered. "I meant here. On the tracks. You know, after..."

Y/n heard Minho suck in a breath.

Chan was seemingly oblivious to the tense atmosphere. Stepping closer to Minho, he looked him dead in the eyes. Y/n swore she could have cut the tension in the air with a knife. She stumbled back unsurely as Chan's shoulder nudged her as he passed. He was so close to Minho, so close that Y/n could see that there was only a few centimeters worth of space between them. She could see Chan trembling and she took another step back, unsure if they were about to fight, or worse.

Minho had gone as still as a statue, and Y/n could see the cracks appearing in his nonchalant facade. Chan was still too, but in an entirely different way. Where Minho was tense, Chan was shaking.

Like he was holding back.

Y/n heard a string of unfamiliar, garbled words come out of Chan's mouth and she shook her head a little, frowning, before she realised Chan was speaking a different language. It sounded Japanese, Korean maybe? She wasn't sure. A wave of guilt washed over her. They clearly did not want her to understand, or become a part of whatever it was they were fighting over. It didn't look much like a fight, nor a disagreement. Y/n had no clue what it was, but she knew it was something serious.

Chan spoke again, this time with a hint of venom in his tone. Even though she couldn't understand what he was saying, she could clearly tell he was blaming Minho for something. Minho looked like he was about to cry, or run away, or hit Chan. Or all three.

With a final spit of venom-laced Korean, Chan turned and stormed away, not sparing Y/n a second glance. She stumbled a step back, feeling a nauseous mix of guilt, anger at Chan, worry for Minho, shameful curiousness at both, and more than all of that, fear. Taking a second to come to herself, she turned to her friend, unsure of whether to speak. The sun had set, and Minho's features were no longer ivory and molten gold. The dawning twilight had hardened his face into a mask of cracked stone, the haphazard gaps run through with dripping silvery gunmetal. Y/n realised with a startled confusion that he was crying.

What had Chan said to him, she wondered. Turning back to the direction Chan had stormed off in, she bit her lip, trying to decide between consoling her friend and asking the other clearly angry racer if he was okay. She disliked Chan, but the stark deviation from his cocky, ambitious, flirty demeanor to the solemn, almost devastated expression he'd held as he spat made Y/n's heartstrings twitch. She couldn't help but feel as if she'd tangled herself up in a much bigger problem, and the fine hair on the back of her neck and her arms stood up at the thought. Her blood began to frost over in her veins, and she felt upset for some reason, like the entire dispute had been her fault. A dull, ugly thud echoed from behind her.

Minho had collapsed to the ground.

a/n: ooooooohh.....

how skz loves you - hyung line

pairing: ot8 hyung line x reader

summary: how skz hyung line would love you.

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, crack

a/n: want the maknaes ?

bang chan ♡

chan shows his love through constant care and attention. He always checks in on you, sending messages to make sure you’re okay, even when he's busy. He remembers the little things, like your favorite snacks or the way you like your coffee (if you drink it, ofc), and makes sure to have them ready for you. Chan is the type to notice when you’re feeling down before you even say anything, offering a warm hug or a quiet moment together to help you feel better. He loves to leave little notes or texts reminding you of how much you mean to him, often signing off with a simple "I’m here for you." Whether it’s making sure you’re bundled up before heading out into the cold or staying up late just to talk, Chan’s love is steady, reassuring, and always present in the smallest gestures <3

lee know ♡

his love is shown through his subtle, yet deeply thoughtful actions. He’s not always the most verbal about his feelings, but his love is evident in the way he takes care of you. He might quietly do things like make your bed in the morning or prepare your favorite meal without being asked. He’s also incredibly protective, always walking on the side of the street closest to the road or holding your hand in crowded places to keep you close. Minho also loves to surprise you with small, meaningful gifts—like a keychain from a place you mentioned wanting to visit or a plushie that reminds him of you. His teasing is also a sign of his affection, using humor and playfulness to make you smile. When you’re together, he’s always making sure you’re comfortable, from adjusting your pillow to turning off the lights when you’re too tired to move <3

changbin ♡

changbin expresses his love through a blend of playfulness and sincerity. He loves to make you laugh, always coming up with silly jokes or playful banter to brighten your day. His love language is often physical; he enjoys holding your hand, giving you tight hugs, or playfully wrestling with you just to hear you laugh. But beyond the jokes, Changbin is incredibly attentive—he notices when you’re stressed and will do his best to cheer you up, whether that’s through a spontaneous snack run or an impromptu dance party in the living room. He also loves to show off in small ways, like lifting heavy things for you or flexing his muscles jokingly, just to see your reaction. Despite his tough exterior, he’s soft at heart and isn’t afraid to let you see that side of him, always making sure you know just how much he cares <3

hyunjin ♡

Hyunjin’s love is shown through his artistic, romantic gestures. He’s the type to leave you beautiful drawings or poems, expressing his feelings in creative ways. He loves to take you on impromptu dates to art galleries, cozy cafes, or scenic spots where you can talk and enjoy each other’s company. Hyunjin is incredibly affectionate, often brushing your hair out of your face or holding your hand in a gentle, comforting way. He’s also very in tune with your emotions, offering a comforting presence when you’re feeling low. Hyunjin loves to spoil you with little surprises, like a bouquet of flowers just because he was thinking of you, or a handmade bracelet that he spent hours perfecting. His love is shown in the way he looks at you—his eyes filled with admiration and affection, as if you’re the most precious, beautiful thing in his whole entire world <3

a/n: comment for the maknae line version ♡

lonely st. ✧ chapter vii : the people who care

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)

warnings: usual warnings (see masterlist for all), descriptions of a panic attack, nightmares, fainting, jisung cries, mentions of eating, mentions of feeling isolated

a/n: this chapter starts off a little darker so please read the warnings before continuing ! <3

series masterlist | skz masterlist

Hyunjin woke with a jolt, covered in sweat.

His hair was plastered to the back of his neck, bare chest heaving with exertion, like he'd just run a marathon. His hands clenched the bedsheets beside his hips as he tried to calm himself down, processing what he'd just dreamed.

Glancing across to the mirror in the corner of his room, he noticed his cheeks were rosy in the reflection, his ears burning scarlet. He took a deep breath and he stood shakily, feeling unusually unsteady on his feet. He felt sick.

He moved to the mirror and inspected his reflection before turning abruptly on his heel, unable to bear the sight of his own face, reflected back scared and pale in the darkness of the room.

Sighing and moving to the bathroom, he noticed how dark it was outside. He'd woken ridiculously early, though he didn't notice, too focused on splashing cold water on his face, trying to cool himself down.

Inhaling shakily, he leant over the sink, trying to forget the images burnt into his mind. Feeling a wave of nausea pass over him, his knees gave out without warning and he awkwardly hit the tiled floor with a thud, head lolling back against the sink cabinet.

Hyunjin closed his eyes.

Everything was quiet and dark.

Hyunjin felt serene, like he was underwater, surveying the lights and chaos going on above the surface. The sounds around him felt muffled and distant, like the feeling of water seeping into his ears.

He stretched an arm out, feeling hazy and disconnected from his limbs. He moved his fingers faintly, feeling numb, like he was watching someone else's arm move instead of his own. He was just a presence floating delicately in the air, sinking til he met the ground.

He saw Y/n above the surface; her outline blurred and faded by the ripples of water. He thrashed wildly, though he had no strength, trying to reach her. But it was like a boulder had been tied to his ankles, and he sank further into the abyss...

He screamed underwater and a stream of bubbles left his mouth, water gurgling in his lungs as he screamed with everything he had left.

Y/n, come back!

He felt himself being lifted out of the water, the water dripping off him and leaving him feeling heavy and saturated. Someone tugged on his arm as he began to sink back down, into unconsciousness. A faint burst of sunlight broke through the hazy, foggy mass surrounding him like a cloying perfume. He heard voices, calling out to him, frantic and strained.

"Hyunjin! Hyunjin, wake up!"

"Hyunjin!"

"HYUNJIN!"

He took a heaving, shuddering breath, his cloudy eyes opening to meet Jisung's.

He looked as worried as Hyunjin had ever seen him; through the fog hanging over his head, he noticed his friend's face was pale and his eyes were rimmed in red, like he'd been crying. His voice sounded faraway.

"Felix, he's awake!"

The blonde haired boy rushed in, holding a bottle of water. Though the sink was directly above them, Felix knelt down and uncapped the bottle, jerking it so a gush of the water hit Hyunjin squarely in the face.

He coughed, some of it going down his throat. Leaning over, he propped himself up on his elbows. His lower half was spread across the tiles, and he felt numb; he wasn't sure he could stand. His head throbbed suddenly and he let himself be pulled into Jisung's lap, gasping weakly.

Jisung scoffed despite the singular tear streaking down his cheek. "Felix, I said he was awake. You didn't have to splash the water."

Felix shrugged worriedly, looking at Hyunjin.

Jisung stroked his friend's hair, trailing a hand down his shoulder in a soothing pattern. His voice was low and cracked.

"Hyunjin, what happened?"

Felix followed up his friend's concerned question.

"Yeah, man. We were supposed to hang out this morning, and Jisung kept calling you because you didn't show up. And I tried contacting you too, but when you didn't respond after forty minutes, we got worried and came here.

We knew you were home alone because you told us your parents were away for a couple weeks on a trip, so we figured something happened."

Jisung whispered, his voice echoing in the silent space.

"We found you passed out right here and both of us freaked. You've been out for who knows how long..."

Hyunjin coughed and sat up. True to Jisung's word, he was still in his boxers, which he'd slept in, and his upper back hurt from where he'd slumped against the cabinet. His head hurt a little too and he was fighting to stay awake.

Felix shared a worried glance with his friend, biting his lip. "Hyunjin, can you stand?"

He weakly shook his head.

Both boys slipped an arm around Hyunjin's torso, lifting him from the tiles and through to his bedroom. Felix knelt in front of his friend, keeping a hand on his knee to ground him.

His voice was soft. "What do you remember, Hyunjinnie?"

Hyunjinnie.

Wasn't that what Y/n called him the other day? Hyunjinnie.

The images from his nightmare flooded back into his mind, flashing and searing, tossing him under waves, making his head spin. He saw Y/n's smile, her hands delicate and pretty as she held her pencil, sketching image after image. She looked up just as he threw a basketball to her, grinning.

His left hand ached suddenly, his fingers closing around nothing, missing the feeling of her warm hand in his, like when she'd held it in the classroom. A singular, whispered phrase swum between the racing thoughts and flashing images in his mind.

I missed you too, Hyunjinnie.

"Don't leave me," he cried weakly to her, gasping, though she wasn't there, much to his distress.

Felix's voice was shaky as he moved to comfort his friend. "Hyunjin, it's okay. We're not going anywhere, just breathe-"

"I can't-"

"Shh, it's okay, we got you. Don't worry, just in and out, okay? You can do it, just breathe with us..."

Jisung murmured to Hyunjin in soft, soothing tones, Felix rubbing his knees, trying to calm him.

Felix tilted Hyunjin's chin up after a while, wiping away his friend's tears, though they were immediately replaced.

"Y/n-" Hyunjin cried weakly.

Felix and Jisung shared a surprised, worried glance. Piecing the events together, Jisung rubbed his friend's back, whispering to him reassuringly.

"Hyunjin, it's okay."

Felix nodded. "Y/n's not going anywhere. Did you dream about her?"

Hyunjin nodded, a hiccupping sob escaping his mouth.

"I want her to come back.."

"Wait, so he thought I died?"

Y/n's voice sounded through Felix's phone speaker as he paced, feet padding across the sunlight-dappled floor of Hyunjin's living room.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "He's not telling us what happened, but we figured he probably had a nightmare, something involving you."

"Oh. Is he okay?"

Felix glanced across at the couch, where Hyunjin sat with his knees tucked up to his chest, face buried between them. Jisung had his head leaning on his friend's shoulder, whispering sweet nothings and quiet reassurances to him in a constant, unending stream.

Felix bit his lip. "I'm not sure."

Y/n sounded worried, her voice becoming quieter over the phone. "Can I talk to him?"

Felix sighed, walking a little closer, and covered his phone with his hand. "Hyunjin, do you want to talk to her?"

The boy looked so dazed and out of it that Felix immediately brought his phone back to his ear.

"Yeah, I don't think he's up to it..."

Y/n let out a worried sigh over the phone, feeling anxiety creep up on her. "Just- keep an eye on him for me, okay?"

Felix nodded, forgetting he was over the phone and she couldn't see him.

"Felix?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure."

Felix ended the call, looking to Jisung, who still had his arm draped over his distraught friend's shoulders.

"Let's get you something to eat, Hyunjin."

Walking into the classroom, Felix set his belongings down on the desk, before turning to Jisung who was a couple desks away.

"Is Hyunjin coming in today?" He asked.

"He is, actually."

Both boys looked up at the sight of their friend; Jisung immediately stood up and threw his arms around the boy, squeezing him tight around the middle.

"Hi, Sung," Hyunjin wheezed, clapping his friend on the back. "I'm feeling better, don't worry."

Felix scoffed, getting up to hug his friend anyway. "You're lucky we didn't tell your parents."

"Yeah," Hyunjin chuckled. "They would have freaked. But I'm okay now."

Hyunjin sat down in his usual spot as the teacher began to call the roll. He checked his timetable; usually he knew off by heart what classes he was due for the day, but the events of the weekend had left him feeling unusually forgetful. Jisung had told him it was nothing to worry about, just some lingering aftereffects.

Checking in his bag, Hyunjin dug inside for a pen to mark off something on his schedule, and his fingers closed around a ballpoint. Drawing it out, he blinked in surprise.

It was Y/n's, the one he'd stolen almost two months ago.

He smiled ruefully to himself. I bet she hasn't forgotten about it all this time. She's not forgetful like me.

Realising he had a class with her next, he slotted his timetable and notebook back into his bag, wondering if she also remembered his offer for her to sit with him. He mentally facepalmed; he shouldn't have asked her to sit with him over text. It would just make it awkward if he had to ask her again face-to-face. Especially if she wasn't planning to sit with him at all.

Glancing up as the bell rang, he stood unsurely as the other students filtered out of the room, brushing past him while laughing and chattering.

Felix accompanied him on the walk, since his classroom was just a few doors down from Hyunjin's and he kept up a steady stream of excitable chatter, talking about this and that, not letting Hyunjin get a word in edgeways.

Which suited him just fine, since he was preoccupied with other thoughts. So he let Felix ramble on without interruption, only stopping to quickly say bye before slipping into his class.

He sat down in his usual spot at the back, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. His eyes darted about the classroom, trying to spot the telltale shimmer of her keyrings and pins on her bag, but it was nowhere to be seen. He relaxed with a sigh of relief. Spreading one leg slightly, he pushed it under the leg of the chair next to him, inconspicuously saving the seat. Hopefully for Y/n.

A familiar scent filled the air, vanilla and cinnamon, and Yeji pulled out the chair next to Hyunjin, almost catching his foot in the process. She dumped her belongings down before moving to sit next to him with a grin.

"Hey, Jinnie."

Hyunjin stuttered, his plan falling apart. "Hey."

Yeji peered down into his face, still standing, one hand planted firmly on the back of the chair. It moved slowly to the back of Hyunjin's chair til she was leaning almost over him, her knuckles brushing his back. A shiver went down his spine and he straightened a little, trying to redirect his focus to the classroom door.

"Sorry," he said quietly, bracing. "You can't sit here."

Yeji's smile dropped. "Why not?"

"Just can't."

Yeji's grin returned, wide and pearly, and it reminded Hyunjin of the Cheshire cat-style bandaid Y/n had given him. He rubbed his knee subconsciously, where the bandaid sat stuck neatly to the skin.

"Oh, I see," she teased. "Saving it for someone?"

Hyunjin nodded mutely before speaking up. "Y/n's coming soon, and I asked her to sit with me. Sorry."

Clearly Yeji was not expecting this response, because she spluttered, flicking her hair over her shoulder haughtily.

"Fine," she huffed suddenly, her tone laced with savagery. "Save it for your little loser friend."

Hyunjin made to nastily retort back at her, before his eyes flitted to the classroom door and Y/n walked in. He shoved the anger down inside him before smiling at her. He sat back down and looked up at her expectantly as she walked up to him.

Y/n glanced at the seat next to him shyly, pointing a finger.

"Yeah," he nodded, his tone soft. He couldn't keep the smile from his face.

Y/n slid into the seat and the class commenced. The teacher announced the content would be on the term exam and normally, Hyunjin would have zoned in, writing down notes and organizing his schedule (usually much to Jisung's disgust), but all he could think about was the girl sitting next to him.

They were sitting together.

He looked out the window, relief and happiness settling over him like a pleasant, dreamy cloud. His plan had worked. He felt a finger poke lightly into his bicep and he looked across as Y/n slid him a note.

Felix told me you fainted on the weekend. Are you feeling better?

He took the note and wrote a reply, his pen feeling slippery and unsteady in his hands.

Yeah, I'm okay. I had a nightmare and I must have gotten freaked out.

He slid it back to her, their fingers brushing momentarily. Her next reply was quick.

Nightmare? About what?

Hyunjin bit his lip. Should he tell her? Would she think it was weird or perverted that he'd dreamt about her? It had no romantic or suggestive connotation about it, but he still felt that there would be a chance that she thought it was kind of disgusting. Who dreamt about their friends? Maybe she would take it the wrong way.

But it wasn't like that, he told himself firmly, scribbling his reply.

You.

He heard Y/n make a little, almost inaudible squeak, like she was surprised, and he propped his head up on his elbow, putting his hand across his mouth to hide his smile.

Her reply came back.

Damn, am I that much of a horror to be friends with?

Hyunjin scoffed quietly.

No, of course not.

She wrote a response.

Then what happened in the nightmare?

Hyunjin took a deep breath, trying to stop his knee from bouncing rapidly under the desk. Should he tell her? He decided that she wouldn't mind. Besides, he was already this far in. He couldn't back out now.

I dreamt that you left me. And I kept calling for you but you weren't there. I felt like I was drowning...

He passed the note back across the desk with shaking fingers, biting the inside of his cheek.

Y/n passed the note back quickly, and Hyunjin's heart sank. Now his suspicions were confirmed. She thought it was weird..

Opening the note and moving to glance back at the sentence he'd written that had supposedly ruined everything, he was surprised to see that there was a small reply written under it.

I'm here now, Hyunjinnie. I promise I won't leave. Not if you don't want me to, of course.

Hyunjin felt his cheeks tingle, and moved to tug lightly at the lobe of his ear, which were now painted a shade of rich cherry red. She'd shown him time and time again that she was sweet, and honestly rather sentimental, but it had continued to surprise him. And with each time, his felt his heart swelling more and more, and expanding to accommodate her affection, coupled with his own. So much that he felt his heart would burst if they continued the way he did.

The bell rang for the end of class and Y/n moved to pack up her belongings, sparing Hyunjin a soft nod and a glance before moving to leave. She stopped to turn back, assuming he would get up and walk with her, but he dismissed her with a small, nervous smile, murmuring something about extra homework from another class. She nodded again and left.

So maybe she wasn't much of a talker, but oh, how she could make him feel.

"Y/NNNNNNN!"

Said girl let out a squeak as Jisung collided with her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a hug. She exhaled a laugh, patting his forearms, and kept walking, taking smaller steps so as not to trip both herself and Jisung over.

He kept his arms around her, waddling awkwardly behind and spouting his daily nonsense straight into Y/n's ear. She didn't mind, looking up to see Felix and Hyunjin waiting outside the school gates. Jisung steered her from behind towards them, almost colliding with the iron bars of the gate.

Y/n let out a small sound as she put her hands against the wall. "Oof, be careful- Ew, it's wet."

It had been raining earlier, and the smell of petrichor hung in the air, laced with the smell of watery mud and the rain-soaked blazers of the students filing out of the school campus. She'd heard a couple girls in her class complaining about the rain, but she found she quite liked the weather. It was much more familiar to see the sky all grey and overcast than to walk out and be blinded by the sun.

Groaning in disgust, she waved her hands at Felix, who ducked, whining.

"Y/n! Go dry your hands."

Sighing nonchalantly, she wiped her right hand on Jisung's sleeve, the boy gaping at her in open-mouthed horror. He glanced down at his sleeve, checking that it wasn't stained, before skipping past her, down the street. Having seemingly forgotten about Y/n's damp hands, he turned back and seized Hyunjin's hand, telling him about the latest drama he'd heard in the hallways.

Y/n discreetly wiped her hands on the tail of Jisung's blazer before dropping back to walk alongside Felix. He smiled at her before calling out something to Hyunjin.

"Yah, Hyunjin! Wanna go to Bbokari's?"

The dark-haired boy checked his phone before turning his head and nodding. Felix let out a hum before asking Jisung the same thing. He readily agreed and turned himself so he was facing Y/n, walking backwards and clinging onto Hyunjin's arm to talk to her.

He grinned at her eagerly. "You should come with us!"

Y/n felt a silent stutter escape her lungs, her mouth opening just a little bit as she was thrust into the spotlight. All three pairs of the boys' eyes were trained on her, waiting for her response.

"Sorry," she said inaudibly, suddenly unable to speak.

Felix leaned forward a little as he walked, nudging her gently with his shoulder and sending a rush of heat radiating into her skin through her blazer.

"Come on," he said gently to her, smiling. "It'll be fun. Just like when we played basketball together."

Y/n found her eyes drifting to Hyunjin; he'd been looking at her while Felix had been talking, but at the eye contact, he suddenly busied himself with checking his pockets. Y/n felt her spirit sink a little and she considered making up a lie so she wouldn't have to go with them.

Not that she didn't want to. But it was difficult, and she knew she would end up feeling downcast and isolated if she told them she couldn't go. But if she said yes, she risked being left out; she risked being a spectator to their animated conversations, and honestly, Y/n couldn't stand the thought of being an invisible presence in yet another friend group. Just the lingering feeling made her visibly blanch, but she was snapped out of it when Jisung poked her shoulder.

"Pleaseeee?" He dragged out the word, pouting at her, his eyes wide and dark like boba balls.

Y/n glanced at him, unsure.

Jisung continued to drag the word out, his voice getting higher and higher and his face becoming redder and redder with the constant, forced exhale of a word.

Felix let out a low whistle. "If you don't give him an answer, he'll just keep going. No offence, but I don't feel like dragging a passed-out Jisung to Bbokari's."

Y/n let her eyes drift to Felix, the group still walking. Her voice was quiet, hesitant, like she was afraid she would scare him away if she spoke too loud. "What is Bbokari's?"

Felix beamed at her. "It's my parents' shop. Like a convenience store, but there's a seating area where there's a microwave and a coffee maker and stuff. We always buy food and my parents give Hyunjin and Jisung friend discounts because they come round all the time. Also, I live upstairs to the store."

Y/n nodded subconsciously, taking in all the information.

"She nodded!" Jisung screeched, jumping up and down and almost dislocating Hyunjin's arm, still in his grip. "She said yes!"

Y/n yelped as Felix took her arm, Jisung letting go of Hyunjin to take her hand, leading her forwards at an alarming pace down the street. The sudden flurry of movement around her meant she almost tripped, Jisung and Felix's combined grips on her being the only thing stopping her from falling.

"W-wait!" Y/n protested, struggling against their grip. "That's not what I meant! I was nodding to Felix-"

It was useless; they were far stronger that she had previously assumed. She felt like a twig in their firm but gentle grip.

Jisung cackled, his laugh floating up and mingling with the last few spatters of rain falling from the grey, cloudy sky.

"Too late. You're coming with us."

taglist (open) : @kozumesphone @bangchansgirlsblog @ms-flowergirl @stayriversflow

✨ send a request or DM to be added / removed !

awww my love :( i'm so glad it helped at least a little bit. don't worry, even just waking up and eating something is a big accomplishment, so be proud of yourself for everything so far . . . it does get better, i promise, and you'll be okay. i'll be here until you are <3

do you wanna talk about it?

Your fic about safe is so amazing I'm inlove with it?? Could you do a similar one but with daddy issues like you're dating Han or Chris (idm which you pick) and you sometimes worry he'll leave you + Ur own issues, tw? Bipolar and depression? Whatever makes you comfortable to do at least

aha thank you so much ! i just titled this one 'depressed reader' but all of the main details are in the descriptions below >< also i couldn't decide between writing chan or han so i just kind of wrote both lol . . . hopefully this one brings you some comfort too, anon <3

hold me - bang chan x depressed!reader

pairing: bang chan x depressed!reader

summary: watching chan with one of his members makes everything you've felt lately rise to the surface.

genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort at the end, depression, hinting to bipolar disorder, heavy descriptions of relationship issues (i made it sort of vague so it applies to a lot of scenarios), descriptions of ed, deprecating and negative thoughts, breakdowns, attachment issues, chan is the sweetest most understanding person in the whole world, jisung is mentioned multiple times in this fic

a/n: sending love to all my readers ! you are all soso appreciated <3. divider from @ianrkives

You hesitantly open the door to the studio after knocking twice. When there's no reply, you quickly step inside and blink. The room is pretty much dark, the only source of light coming from a dim standing lamp in the corner.

Chan is seated at his desk, hunched over the soundboard, with a pair of headphones clasping either side of his head. You can barely see him in the dark, only his face, hands, and the column of his throat visible out of the baggy black clothes he always likes to wear.

He doesn't look up as you enter and then quietly shut the door, too focused on the wavy, lilting lines and sequences of the song production software in front of him. You sigh softly and walk up to him, coming from the side so you don't startle him. Placing your bag down on the small table before the sofa, you place a couple of hesitant fingers on the arm of his chair.

"Channie?" You say quietly.

He's still squinting at the screen, somehow so focused he doesn't even see you right next to him. Or maybe it's the light from the screen; when you stare at a device for so long in the dark, it gets difficult to see anything else.

But he suddenly seems to sense your movement, and he must have realised it was you, because he wraps an arm around your waist and gently pulls you closer.

"Hi, baby," he murmurs, not taking his eyes off the screen. His gaze is focused and almost intense as he scrutinizes every soundbar and beat of the music. You bite your lip.

You begin to worry a little then; have you disturbed him from his work? Maybe you shouldn't have come, or at least sent him a text telling him you were coming to the company studio. Maybe he would be more comfortable if you just left him alone.

Before your thoughts can descend on your head like a static black cloud, Chan finally slips off his headphones, leaning back in his chair with a heavy exhale. His arm is still around your waist and so he tugs you with him a little bit, eyes roaming over your face as he stretches.

"Sorry," he says, sighing contentedly as his back pops a little. "Got so caught up, didn't realise I'd be here so late."

"It's okay," you say quietly. "I figured."

Chan catches the hint of sadness creeping into your tone and he pulls you onto his lap, coiling strong arms around your torso. His unruly, ruffled curls tickle the naps of your neck and you squirm, letting out an involuntary giggle. Though the sound is happy, it immediately fills you with a creeping feeling of disgust, and you reproachfully close your mouth.

Chan doesn't seem to notice; he seems rather content to just keep you on his lap. He's absentmindedly singing something, and you stand up off of his lap suddenly, brushing yourself off. For some unknown reason, you begin to feel a bit embarrassed, like you used to feel around Chan when you didn't know him too well.

The man in question sits up a little straighter in his chair, smiling at you. "How was your day, baby?"

"Good," you say a little curtly. You're not sure where the tone is coming from, and you shove the feeling down before you can say something in a way you'd regret.

Chan hums thoughtfully and pokes you lightly in the stomach. "Just good, hmm? Usually I'd get a lot more than that... are you okay?"

"Yes," you say quietly, even though you feel anything but. You're grateful for the darkness then, because it means Chan can't see the tears beginning to prickly hotly at the corners of your eyes. You keep your voice strong and fight the urge to sniffle so as not to alert him. "Just had a long day. You?"

Saying those sentences almost makes you break.

Chan can never know what it's like; how it feels to be brushed off and ignored and attacked by someone who is supposed to love you. To feel like you don't really matter, or that your thoughts and ideas and dreams are just that; useless, empty words inside your head. And to be constantly reminded of how little your worth is, to the point where you're not sure what love is, or what it looks like.

Chan will never understand; he had a completely normal childhood, with a completely normal family and upbringing, and he's normal. Normal in the way that he has people to turn to, people who love and support him, and he's normal in the way that he doesn't scrutinize his own actions every single second of every single day.

And he will never know what it's like to be struggling with something to the point where it all just builds up inside your head like a messy pile of bricks. Where it all weighs down heavy on your mood and sends clouds of dust into the air, distorting and warping your emotions.

So far you've been able to control your mood swings around him; you'd succeeded in making Chan think that you're a person who likes to sleep a lot. In reality you just lie down and keep your eyes and mouth shut so you don't end up acting hypomanic or have outbursts at him. At least it's working; you would much rather keep it all inside than bare the most vulnerable parts of yourself to someone who might decide to turn away and leave you because of it.

You've learnt that keeping those thoughts and emotions inside is better, because then at least people stay. For some time, anyway. Lately you've been feeling like you're biding your time, waiting until the day where Chan finds out everything and decides to do what's best for himself.

When he decides to leave you.

"...And then Han decided he was going to try and do his makeup himself all of a sudden, and of course it was a whole mess. I had to clean sparkly highlighter out of his mouth. I mean, how does that even happen?"

You blink. Chan has been talking this whole time while you've been zoned out of your mind, pitifully burying yourself in your struggles. You climb out of the pit but for a moment and nod along, though he still can't see you because of the dark. You hope that he's just been talking about Han the whole time and not anything else, because if you missed something, Chan will definitely know something's wrong. You inwardly curse yourself for making a habit out of replying to every event and topic that comes out of Chan's mouth.

"Does he not know you guys have perfectly good stylists for that?" You murmur, carding a hand through his fluffy hair.

He sighs exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. "Apparently not."

You feel the slightest hint of mirth warming your heart as you notice the tips of Chan's rough, calloused fingers covered in the faintest hint of sparkles. But it quickly disappears, replaced by a cold, dead numbness that seems to encapsulate your whole being. Like icy water.

"Anyways," Chan stretches again, standing up. "How come you're here and not at home?"

Slightly taken aback at the blunt statement, you stutter a little. Chan's eyes go wide and he shakes his hands frantically in front of himself. "N-not like that! I'm glad you're here, it's just that it's really late and I thought you would be asleep by now..."

You blink at him, and then at the clock. He has a point; the white LEDs on the display read 1:43 am. Normally you'd be passed out in bed at this time.

"Couldn't sleep," you say. "I missed you."

And it's true. You did miss him. But suddenly you're looking straight through Chan to someone else and saying that last sentence to him instead. You clench your fists.

"Aww," Chan whines cutely, pulling you into a hug. "My baby. I missed you too. This new song track is killing me."

You pull back from the hug and kiss him on the cheek, partly because kissing Chan makes him go all red, and if you let him hug you any longer, you'll probably break down.

Chan does go red and you poke him lightly in the side, teasing gently. He chuckles and jerks away as you walk to the low table and pick up a bag. "I brought food."

"Oh, you're the best," Chan dives for the bag and eagerly digs through, clumsily kissing your cheek as he pulls the lid off one of the takeout containers. He sits down on the couch before pulling out a pair of chopsticks from the bag and heaping a mouthful of the food. He groans loudly. "This is so good."

"Tastes better after work, doesn't it?" You sit down next to him and lean back, looking at the ceiling. You cross your arms over your stomach to keep it quiet.

Chan nods eagerly and holds out his chopsticks. "Say ahh, Y/n."

You shake your head ruefully but Chan insists, moving closer. Relenting, you open your mouth and feel the warmth of the food against your tongue. It tastes so good, and for a second, you think about asking for more, but you realise that Chan needs it more. After all, he's been working all night.

Besides, if you ask for more of his food, he might think you're being greedy and look at you that certain way that someone else does.

In disgust.

You know in your heart that Chan would never do these sorts of things, but the doubt nags consistently at your consciousness, tugging your mood one way and then your emotions the next. The constant change between feelings is almost giving you whiplash and you exhale, closing your eyes and leaning back into the couch.

"Baby?"

"Mm," you say without opening your eyes.

"Is everything okay?" You hear him setting down his chopsticks, feel the tiny thud through the table as he sets the already-empty container down gently. Your heart drops to your stomach.

Keep it together. He doesn't know anything.

You sigh and sit up, your heartstrings twinging. "Just a lot to think about lately. Why?"

Chan nods, leaning back into the couch next to you. "It's just that you've been really quiet lately. I was wondering if something was going on..."

He ends his reply on a sort of question, like he's expecting you to open up to him about everything at once. You almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of it. How could he possibly expect you to do something like that? And so easily too...

You inwardly scoff. Nice try. You're not getting anything out of me, Chan. Better you don't know anyway. I know you'll change your mind about me.

But your heart takes control of your mouth, and maybe it's the constant sense of longing you seem to have around Chan, but you want to open up to him. Tell him everything, about your terrible past and terrible experiences, and all you are because of it. And a sudden, lingering sense of hope makes you believe that even after you tell him all of it, he'll stay.

Even if it's just for a moment.

"I, um.. I just had an argument with someone," you say vaguely. And it's not entirely the truth. But it's not exactly a lie either. The words shouted at you earlier flash through your mind, white and hot and painful. Like a fresh cut, a harsh, swift slice too deep and sudden to process. Where, for a moment, there's nothing, until the blood starts filling the white gap and then spilling over, like a gruesome parody of tears.

Chan turns to face you on the couch. "Argument? About what?"

You shift a little uncomfortably. Now you have to tell him. "About- just whatever."

"It's not whatever, Y/n," he says firmly. "Not if it's making you this upset."

And maybe it's the sudden realisation that Chan is so normal, with his normal family and mind and life that you feel a raging pang of jealousy fill you up from your toes to your head. You huff and turn away.

"It's nothing," you grit your teeth, fighting not to spit venom.

Stop it, Y/n. It's not his fault.

Chan blinks in surprise at your slightly harsh response but doesn't push you any further. You don't look at him, but you hear him sigh and get up to toss the empty takeout container in the trash. Your heart sinks and you wait for him to turn around and chide you for being so rude and stubborn. After all, he was just trying to help.

But he doesn't. He sits back down on the couch, and looks up at the ceiling, so that you two are lying next to each other in the exact same position. He doesn't talk, either.

You both sit in deafening silence.

You're grateful when the door opens with a haphazard bang and Han walks in, clad in an oversized grey hoodie and sweats. He's clutching a notebook in his hands, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose. You know the story Chan told earlier was true because you can see smears of sparkly highlighter high on his cheekbones. He doesn't seem to be aware of the time, nor the dark state of the room, or the fact that you're so tense your shoulders feel like concrete.

You're grateful for the interruption until he walks over to Chan and promptly sits in his lap. Han murmurs a few lyrics to him, who seems unfazed by the sudden action, and questions about what he thinks could be changed with the song words. Chan replies quietly and his gaze flicks to you in the dimness of the room, but you just shrug, saying you don't mind.

But sitting there, watching Han sit so quietly and comfortably in Chan's lap makes your heart pang for some reason. He wasn't afraid, didn't ask if it was okay, just sat right down and made himself comfortable. Because you know for a fact Chan lets him do this.

And maybe it's the way Chan strokes an absentminded finger down Han's shoulder, or the way he speaks so softly, or the way it's so reminiscent of someone taking care of their child, but you find your eyes brimming with hot tears by the time Han gets up and leaves.

Chan turns to you, about to say something about the lyrics of the new track, but he stops short. A look of worry comes over his expression.

He scoots closer, placing a warm hand on your arm. "Baby? Are you okay?"

All you can do is shake your head, your eyes scrunching up as you fall into his arms. Chan holds you close, one hand cradling your head against his chest like you're the most precious thing in the whole world. Little do you know, to him, you are.

You sob. The reality of everything comes crashes down on you and all you can do is wail and hiccup into Chan's warm, solid chest. You expect him to push you away by the time the tears have soaked through his shirt, but he doesn't. He holds you close and rocks you gently, shushing you and cooing as he wipes hot, sticky streaks off your cheekbones.

You can't help but cry harder. Your eyes almost sting from how hard you've scrunched them up, and your hands ball in the back of Chan's hoodie like it's a lifeline. And it is. You feel that if you let go, you might fall and never return.

"I'm here," you hear Chan whispering through the mess. "I'm here."

Again and again he says it, and every time he does, your tears flow a little slower, and he keeps saying it until your breakdown has reduced itself to a fit of hiccups and messy sniffles. Still he doesn't push you away, or snap at you to get over it, or that your tears mean nothing. He just sits and holds you.

When you finally look up, Chan is smiling gently, reassuringly, though a little sadly. He sees the look in your eyes and knows you don't want to talk about it, so he sits and rocks you softly on his lap. You squeeze your eyes shut and heave in a rocky breath.

Please just keep holding me, you beg him silently. Just for a while.

And he does. And he doesn't let go, not even when you whimper into his shoulder and soak the juncture of his neck with your misery. He kisses the salty wetness away and strokes the pads of his fingers across your face, where the skin is red and sticky.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I'm sorry," you cry. "I can't get it all out of my head, and- it's too much, and I can't-"

"Shh, baby. I've got you, okay? Just breathe for me."

You heave in a few breaths and continue clinging to him. He feels so warm and safe. All you want is to be surrounded by him, to breathe him in, have him tell you that he loves you.

He must have read your mind, because he leans close to your ear and whispers firmly.

"I'm not leaving you, yeah? I'm gonna stay right here, hold you til you're better. You mean the world to me, hmm? Do you know that?"

You shake your head sadly.

"Now you do. I'm not going anywhere," he says with such conviction that you almost begin to believe it. He wraps his arms closer around you and kisses your forehead, whispering fiercely.

"I promise."

a/n: masterlist

batter up - kim seungmin

pairing: baseball captain! kim seungmin x baseball player! reader

summary: you're struggling with baseball practice until a certain captain steps in to help (or make fun of you. whichever way you wanna see it.)

genre: fluff, college baseball team! au, dry humour seungmin, baseball duh

a/n: seungmin please i need more baseball content... divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

The baseball hits the chain-link fence with a reverberating clang.

You groan and throw your glove down, stomping one foot in frustration. It's childish and dumb, but it helps to dissipate some of the growing irritation building in your gut.

This is stupid.

Surely someone with your skill set should be able to throw a baseball in the right direction. And normally, you would be able to. But for some reason, the throws from the last few weeks have been violently misguided and your usually-accurate hand has somehow forgotten to catch a baseball, let alone throw it correctly.

You sigh and take another from the ball cart; lifting your left knee, you turn before pegging the ball with a grunt at the batter's base. It flies off-target and instead pummels into the ground, to the left of the base. A cloud of dust rises in its wake.

You sigh and take another ball, picking up a stand and setting it up at the batter's base. Adjusting the height, you place the ball on the small cup at the top and position yourself, raising the bat over your shoulder.

Swinging with full force, you bring the bat across yourself and whoosh past the ball, missing it completely. It shifts a little on the stand and you sigh before trying again.

Whoosh. Another miss.

Whoosh. And another.

"Shit," you curse, adjusting your hold on the bat. The grip-wrapped metal is slippery and beginning to warm under your fingers, the rough tape sanding against your palms.

You bring the bat down in a knowingly hopeless, half-baked attempt of effort, hoping to at least knock the ball a few metres away. But when you bring your hands down, the bat is no longer within them.

Blinking at your hands in confusion, you turn and see it suspended above your head, the metal tip several inches from your forehead. Behind it is a snickering grin.

Kim Seungmin.

He'd caught the bat from your grip before you swung. A sudden thought flashes through your mind; had he been watching? All that time, seeing all those miserable fails...

You scowl and snatch the bat off him, almost hyperextending your wrist in the process, because he doesn't let go. You tug on it and he does, and you stumble back a little before glaring at him.

"Shouldn't stand near the batter," you huff at him. "S' dangerous."

"I know," Seungmin replies, not missing a beat. "Should've put that much effort into your swing at last week's game."

You mimic his voice in a whiny, teasing lilt and toss the bat down with a thud into the dusty dirt, your back to him.

"Whatever, Seungmin," you scowl. "I was trying, you know."

"Didn't seem like it. And it's Captain to you."

You throw your hands up, turning to face him. "Play at baseball Captain all you want, but you're not any good at it. Good captains try to help their teammates instead of cutting them down."

Your sharp tone does nothing to intimidate Seungmin, because he crouches to pick up the bat, nudging you aside with it. Huffing, you let him.

Seungmin lines himself up at the base, swinging effortlessly with the bat and sending the still-stationary baseball into the sky. It disappears momentarily and then lands somewhere beyond the fence with a distant, faint thud.

"There," he says dryly, turning to you. "Like that."

You snatch the bat from him, packing as much sarcasm into your words as humanly possible. "And how exactly do I swing like that, oh great Captain Seungmin?" You point the bat at him.

He looks at you for a moment.

Then he grabs the end of the metal bat and tugs, hard. Quite sharply. Since you're still gripping it, you stumble forward, almost into his chest. Your nose brushes his collar as he pushes your shoulder forward, guiding the bat above your head.

Your back is to his chest now, and Seungmin leans down to align his eyesight with yours, levelling his view.

"See that?" He says quietly. He raises a hand, the one not occupied with maintaining your grip on the bat, and points to somewhere in the sky. "Aim there."

You scoff. "I can't hit that high."

Seungmin exhales, a puff of breath stirring the hair by your ear. "You're not trying to hit high. You're trying to hit far. And when you swing, level your grip as the bat comes down. More stable that way."

He says this as his hand places itself over yours, squeezing lightly to firm your grip on the bat. He shifts your hand a little lower and then points again to the sky.

"Right there, okay?"

"Okay," you whisper. He's standing so close.

You level your grip just a tiny bit under Seungmin's hand, suddenly afraid he might take it away from its current position on top of yours, but he doesn't. His hand remains there, oddly comforting. You adjust your fingers a little more, and the bat begins to feel a lot more steady under your shared palms.

"Good," he murmurs. "Just like that."

Seungmin steps back suddenly, backing up a few paces and positioning himself where he can't possibly be hit by the bat if you let go. You glance at him and then at the ball, blinking. He must have put another on the stand while you were busy huffing at his earlier blatancy.

You exhale and then swing, adjusting your hands as the bat comes down. To your tremendous surprise, the ball knocks off the stand with a cling and goes flying into the sky, disappearing. It comes down to the earth somewhere just beyond the fence.

You drop the bat and gape at Seungmin in disbelief.

He looks very self-satisfied; his usual I-told-you-so look is painting the expanse of his face, but there's something warm about it. Like he's proud. Knowing him, he's probably just glad you won't disadvantage the team in future games with your haphazard batting, but you appreciate it all the same.

He stares back for a few seconds, his blue team jersey fluttering in the wind. Yours does the same, but it's disheveled and tucked at the waist where you've been swinging and pitching.

Neither of you move. Then seemingly regaining his bearings, Seungmin flits his gaze away and waves a dismissive hand, his snarky demeanour returning.

"Finally," he drawls sarcastically, though it's a tiny bit less confident than before. "You learned how to swing a bat properly. Congratulations."

You offer a kind middle finger in response, and a sudden, unexpected grin bubbles out of you, a slight laugh escaping your mouth. Seungmin graces you with the tiniest presence of a smile. He checks his watch before waving you off.

"Practice tomorrow, don't forget." He calls bluntly over his shoulder, walking past you and off the pitch. Most likely heading to his dorm room.

You nod and pick up the bat, intending to get a couple more hits in before you pack up for the night. A blush tints your cheeks, your hands buzzing from the brief contact. You feel all floaty and optimistic.

Back in the safety of his own dorm room, Seungmin stands facing himself in the mirror, feeling the exact same way.

a/n: *as we are playing in the distance*

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