Snake - Yang Jeongin

duvet - lee felix

pairing: lee felix x reader

summary: it's raining outside, and felix has an idea...

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, comfort, crack

a/n: second felix fic. here we go...

"Look at the raindrops, Lixie."

He hums, slender fingers tracing the frosted glass and the patterns of said raindrops as they slide down the pane. Both of you are leaning over the back of the couch and watching the rain patter neverendingly through the window. It's cold, even inside the house, and Felix's fluffy-socked feet touch yours as you both sit in amiable, companiable silence.

The storm has been going on for a while. It began this morning, deciding that it was going to pour down all of a sudden while both of you were in the garden, resulting in a heap of wet clothes, a steaming hot shower, multiple cups of hot chocolate, and two pairs of fluffy winter socks. You smile at the remembered chaos of the moment, both of you running like headless, soggy chickens over the lawn, making a break for the patio door, screaming and laughing and blowing away the wet hair plastered to both your foreheads. It was funny, considering you both decided to shower straight after. It was like stepping out of the storm and into another (though much warmer than the first).

You're pulled out of your thoughts by the rustling sound of Felix getting out of couch. You whine as he gets up and he pats your head.

"Calm down. I'll be back in a second."

You huff and turn back to the window, already missing the warmth of his body and presence next to you. He returns a few moments later, dragging the duvet of your shared double bed into the living room.

"Felix!" You laugh. "What are you doing?"

He grumbles with the effort, groaning as he heaves the whole thing onto the couch. It envelops you both in a thick, heavy cocoon of warmth and spills off the sofa, pooling in heavy folds. Panting with the exertion, he flops back into his spot next to you, resting his head on his folded arms. "There."

You giggle. "You didn't have to bring the whole duvet, you know. There's already a few throw blankets that we keep here, remember?"

Felix sighs, scratching his head. "I know, but it wasn't warm enough."

"It was, actually."

He mimics your voice, shaking his head repeatedly and pulling a funny face. Laughing, you push him sideways in retaliation and he falls into the thick folds of the duvet, landing with a soft oof.

"Oh.." He groans, wiggling and burrowing further into the couch. "This feels so nice..."

You chuckle. "You're going to overheat under that thing."

Felix huffs. "I'll cool down then."

"How?"

He's silent for a minute. You gaze at him expectantly. Then, with a wicked grin, he springs up (with some effort) out of the duvet and seizes you around the waist, dragging you off the couch. You yelp and wriggle, but it's no use; Felix has always been far stronger than you. He hauls you to the glass patio door, the storm raging on outside. He opens the door a little and a gush of cold air rushes in, seeping straight through both of your clothes and sinking into your bones. You scream, laughing, and try to struggle away as Felix cackles, keeping a firm grip on you.

Felix huffs into your ear with a grin. "We could always cool off outside-"

"No! Let go, Lixie, please-" He jerks his arms forward a little, your hands pushing against the doorframe as he pretends to try and throw you outside, back into the storm.

You squeal and twist in his grip as he staggers back from the door, shutting it. The cold air is immediately replaced with the diffused scent of your favourite cinnamon candle and the aroma of hot chocolate as Felix relents. You clumsily tear yourself out of his loosening grip and let out a triumphant laugh. Felix does the same as he lunges for you again, and his foot slips out from under him. He topples forward, taking you with him to the floor. You both land on the thick duvet, and the whole thing is dragged off the couch.

Sighing and pushing his hands away from your waist, you grin and burrow into the duvet, giggling. Felix turns on his side to face you, hand coming up to bring a fold of blanket over your bodies, wrapping both of you in a thick, heavy burrito roll. He giggles too.

It's hard not to when you're surrounded by the intoxicating, cosy warmth of each other's presence.

a/n: send in some requests for me ! they'll be published within a day <3

the fast lane : masterlist

Pairing: 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: illegal street racing, skz racer!au, chan and felix (yep that's a warning), more warnings will be added as the series progresses ! also, warnings are issued at the start of each chapter, so make sure to check <3

part one : the bet

part two : the lollipop

part three : porcelain and gold

part four : unexpected contact

part five : white knight and black knight

Low-key can I pls request Chris comforting reader on her period because I'm on my right now and I want him as my personal hot water bottle.

Thank you!!

omg first request!!

hopefully this meets your expectations hahah... i wrote reader having a really bad period... hopefully that's fine for you <3 feel better!

he comforts you on your period - bang chan

pairing: bang chan x reader

summary: you're struggling with your period and chan helps you out

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, comfort, lil bit angsty. mentions of undressing, feeling nauseous & dizzy, cramps and period pain, reader has a period (obviously)

a/n: comments are appreciated... and whoever's reading this, feel better! and eat some dark chocolate <3

You groan for the fourth time as another debilitating cramp whacks you right in the gut, followed straight after by a dizzying wave of nausea. You're helpless to do anything but whine and writhe weakly on the bed, tangling the sheets and causing uncomfortable lumps of the blanket to pool up around you. It's too hot, too cold, too much pain, too sharp, too dull, never-ending.

You can't even call for Chan.

He's working from home today due to the severe weather, shut in his little studio down the apartment hallway. The rain clatters and thunders against the windows and balcony door, speckled with tiny crystal shards of hail ice. He's probably busy working away at some song while on call with the rest of 3RACHA. You can picture him busily writing down song lyrics in his notebook, headphones and black cap askew on his head, and hand messily smudging the dark, scented ink of his words on the page. His pretty, dark eyes shining, wide and focused as he does what he does best.

That pleasing mental image of your boyfriend is quickly chased away by another wave of nausea and you curl in on yourself, fighting the desperate urge to scream with whatever you have left. You didn't bother taking painkillers when the first cramp hit this morning, thinking you could muscle through it. Every time, you think you can handle the pain, and every time, you're proven completely and utterly wrong. And now you're immobilised on the bed, unable to do anything but face the bloody wrath of your monthly cycle.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Groaning, you shift achingly slowly to the side, trying to alleviate the pain. For a moment, you consider calling for Chan, but you doubt you'd be able to shout loud enough, and more so, you don't want to disturb him. The comeback is soon, and he was stressed enough at not being able to go to the company after seeing the state of the weather. He'd woken you up with a kiss, ordered breakfast to be delivered to the door, and disappeared, only pausing to throw on a hoodie and his usual cap. The studio door had shut and you had heard no more. He's been working all morning. He had said to try not to disturb him unless you really needed something, but you understood. He had a lot to do. But...

Biting your lip guiltily, and then wincing at the dull pain pooling in your stomach, you do your best to slide off the bed. It doesn't matter how much it hurts; you need painkillers. And right now, Chan can't afford to be distracted, so you muster up all of your strength to sit upright.

One foot touches the cold floor, and then the other. Both hands fly to your stomach and you double over, hair brushing your knees as you wait for the dizzying nausea to pass. It feels like you're being slammed in the gut with a sledgehammer set on fire. Attempting to regain your bearings, you sit up and wait for a few minutes. The pain dulls for a few moments and so does the headache, so you shakily stand, reaching for the wall in case your knees give out. Walking to the kitchen is a colossal effort, and a slow one at that too. The short walk down the hallway feels like a year.

Finally slumping against the counter, feet numb from the cold tiles, you take a glass from the dishrack and fill it halfway with water, spilling most of it on the counter in your hazy, aching state. Your vision is spotted with stars as you reach up on tiptoes and open the medicine cabinet to reach the painkillers.

You swallow two and move to make your way back to the bedroom. Turning, you're suddenly hit with the most awful, searing, intolerable pain. You jackknife to the floor, knees throbbing from the solid impact as they thud against the tiles. Leaning heavily on the cabinet, you rest your forehead against the cool, slightly chilled surface, and feel a liquid smearing onto the cupboard door. Pulling away slightly, you realise you're covered in a sheen of sweat. Your clothes stick uncomfortably to your body. It's too hot, too cold, too much pain, too sharp, too dull, never-ending but even worse than before.

Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, every heave sapping your energy. Sagging forward, you rest your face against the cool tiles, trying to stay conscious. Your surroundings blur out, replaced with an unpleasant echoing ring and the sound of Chan's footsteps.

Chan's footsteps?

He's holding his drained waterbottle in one hand and his phone in the other, eyebrows furrowing as he reads some lyric notes he typed earlier. Feeling quite pleased with himself, he turns into the kitchen and is immediately met with the sight of you slumped on the floor, coated in sweat and curled up like a dying insect in the summer.

His eyes widen and he drops to his knees, phone clattering to the side and waterbottle clanging loudly. The sound makes you wince.

"Love? Hey-" his warm, calloused hands run over your shoulders, panicked and wide-eyed. "What happened?"

You can't even respond.

Chan swears a few colorful, fluent phrases as he stands and dashes down the hallway, returning with a damp rag. He gently but hurriedly mops the sweat off your forehead and nape before tossing it aside and carefully lifting you into his firm, toned arms. Deadlifting you from the floor, he carries you back to the bedroom and sets you down gently, pulling the rumpled covers back. He rushes out of the room for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes. Hurrying into the bedroom, he sets a few things down on the bedside before gently freeing you from your sweaty clothes.

In another scenario, you would be embarrassed, but right now you can't care less. It feels freeing and the cold air in the apartment seeps into your body, providing a welcome coolness. He lifts a hot water bottle and places it onto your lower stomach, tucking it slightly into the waistband of your underwear to keep it in place. He presses down lightly and you groan weakly, the heat providing almost immediate relief from the aching.

You don't register what happens after that; only the feeling of the damp cloth sweeping over your forehead and neck and Chan's warm, gentle touch keep you connected to consciousness. He begins to sing softly, lulling you into the heavy, dreamless sleep of the sick. HIs voice floats in the air like a wisp, light and airy and lilting, yet deep, accented, and rich. You gather all your remaining strength.

"Channie," you croak.

He looks up, brows knitted together in worry. He stops his ministrations, hand hovering over your shoulder.

Tears well in your eyes. Whether it's from the jumbled mess that the morning has been, the maelstrom of hormones, emotions and guilt in your system, the debilitating pain, or Chan's seemingly endless love, you're not entirely sure. Your voice is an almost inaudible whisper.

"I'm sorry i disturbed you. I went to take painkillers so i wouldn't disturb you because i know you're busy with the comeback-"

He cuts you off, expression gentle yet concerned. "I know i was busy, but you should have called me, love. Look at the state of you."

A hot tear spills down your cheek. "I'm sorry, Channie."

He shushes you, stroking your hair back from your forehead. "Don't apologise, yeah? If you need me, i'll come to you. Please don't ever feel that you're a bother to me or that you're disturbing me. Especially when it comes to things like this," he rubs your hipbone softly with his thumb, in soothing, relieving circles.

"Channie, can you cuddle me?"

He smiles softly. Pressing himself to your back, he bends his knees, spooning and tucking you into his chest. A surge of intoxicating warmth seeps pleasantly into your body and you sigh contentedly. His toned arm snakes around your waist, pressing the hot water bottle to your stomach so you don't have to hold it there yourself. Kissing your neck softly, he nuzzles into your shoulder, telling you to sleep and that he would be there when you wake up. It feels so warm, so cosy, so safe. But the guilt of having tore him away from his work doesn't slip your hazy, fatigued mind.

"Channie, i'm sorry for being a bother."

He exhales a small, sincere chuckle through his nose, tucking his head further into your shoulder.

"You're never a bother to me, love."

a/n: how'd i do? do we like it? likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated <3

♡ ‧₊ ot8!𝗌𝗄𝗓 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌' 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 ‧₊ .ᐟ

pairing: ot8!skz x reader imagines

summary: just a snippet of what i think skz would do for you on valentines' day

genre: pretty cute and sappy, lots of fluff, slight crack, mentions of eating

a/n: yet another year of having no valentine, but at least i can buy chocolate half off

Chan who surprises you and shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers and an outstretched hand. He's in a dark fitted suit, handsome as always, and there's a big smile on his face as he runs off the cheesiest pick up lines, handing you a singular rose as he does. He waits in your living room while you get ready and then offers his arm as you both walk to his car. He takes you to a classic night out, a candlelit dinner in some city restaurant, the lights low and ambient music swirling around your heads. Hushed giggles and feeding each other bites of food are done over intertwined hands.

"You look beautiful under the lights, baby. Here, eat some more..."

♡

Minho who pretends to forget what day it is and leaves you feeling a little downcast. That is, until you're in your office working and the cats walk in, each holding a rose of a different colour; one red, one pink, and one white. He appears at the door with a smirk on his face and strokes your hair as you whine about him pretending to forget. The roses are clutched tightly in your hands as he leads you to the kitchen, where there's a small arrangement of gifts. He isn't one for grand gestures but you're satisfied and cosy, sitting in his lap as you open little trinkets, the cats watching on.

"You're so cute when you whine. You really thought I forgot, huh?"

♡

Changbin who is also a hopeless romantic, who is endlessly in love with you, who shows up to your workplace with a hand full of heart-shaped helium balloons and a big grin on his face. He loudly declared his love for you in front of your coworkers, completely unashamed, and watches with a massive, cute smile on his face as you turn the colour of the balloons he's holding. But the gigantic, warm, though slightly crushing hug he gives you is warmer than your cheeks.

"Happy Valentines Day, bunny! Here- Ah, your face has gone so red..."

♡

Hyunjin who told you to show up at his apartment at exactly six o clock dressed in something classy but comfortable. He blindfolds you as soon as he opens the door and leads you to his living room, where he's set up two canvases opposite each other. There's a platter full of finger food, two glasses and a bottle of some fancy drink he took from the company. He's hung fairy lights around the room and he watches affectionately as you show him your slightly messy impression of the love of your life. His is much better, but he kisses you anyway and says he'll hang it in his room above the bed.

"You're so talented, my love. I'm going to hang it up right away..."

♡

Jisung who pretty much kidnaps you as soon as your shift at work ends, telling you to dress in one of his hoodies. When you come out of his room, he's set up a massive mess of pillows, cushions, and fluffy blankets in front of the TV, which is set up to play a game. He hands you a controller and tells you he's ordered so much food. You know he's done it so you can both spend time together without it ending in the kitchen burning down, but it's appreciated nonetheless. He lets you beat him every time and watches you sit up in victory and cheer at his defeat, your fingers covered in cheesy french fry salt.

"Aww, jagi, you keep beating me. When did you get so good at this?"

♡

Felix who, when you come home, surprises you by setting up a few things in the kitchen so you can both bake and make a few things together. He sets up bowls of chocolate and lets you add the food colouring, turning each bowl pink and red. You both dip strawberries and candied orange slices into the bowls, dripping chocolate over the counter before laying them on a tray to set. You mix the rest of the chocolate together and pour them into heart-shaped molds, marbling the colours together with fingertips stained pink.

"Sunflower, we made such a mess! At least the counter isn't stained pink..."

♡

Seungmin who takes you shopping to the cutest little pop up store, telling you to dress in pink, cream, and white. He meets you at your door and holds your hand as he drives you both there, letting you browse excitedly amongst the shelves for mini figures and plushies. You both come home loaded with a ton of accessories, cuddly toys, and matching items. He then sets up pink lights around your bathroom mirror and takes a whole album's worth of selfies with you.

"I like these necklaces... come on, let's be matching. It'd be cute..."

♡

Jeongin who takes you to the arcade and doesn't even try to let you win. It turns into a competition of who can do the best and he keeps kissing you while you're playing the games so you lose your focus. He teases you each time and promises to let you win the next time. He doesn't, and it's all in good fun until you whine about him being too competitive. He just kisses you again and makes it up to you by taking you for a night-time joyride before stopping at a petrol station, where you both buy convenience store snacks and lie on his car roof, talking about everything.

"Look at all the pretty stars up there. I think you shine way brighter..."

a/n: happy valentines' day to all of my loves ♡ !

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

Hi!:) Sorry if you busy but could I ask you something? I was thinking if you could do something where you have frequent migraines and Felix is there to take care of you and comfort you. Thanks (and also I waned to say that I love your writing). Bye 😘

awww thank you TT so sweet. hehe sorry this took me so long, anon... i had this in my drafts for ages but it's here now ! here you go <3

haze - lee felix

pairing: lee felix x reader

summary: felix helps you out when you get a migraine

genre: fluff, idol! au, jisung is goofy at the start (but what's new tbh), chan is helpful (again, what's new), not proofread nyehehe, softie lix, bit angsty, reader gets migraines :(

a/n: comments, likes, reblogs appreciated <3 divider from @chilumitos

You laugh just as Jisung shovels a forkful of pasta into his mouth, grinning wildly as sauce stains the corners of his mouth. Minho slaps him on the back and Chan chides him frantically, reaching across Minho's lap to wipe sauce off Jisung's mouth. At this point, your stomach hurts from laughing so hard, a slightly painful but gleeful ache settling in the pit of your stomach. Next to your side, Felix is doing the exact same, and you both lean heavily on each other as the sound of chattering and excitable laughing fills the night air.

Felix was getting together with the boys for a night out, and had invited you along, knowing that the boys would be pleased to see you. You had gladly agreed, having nothing else to do apart from sit at home and scroll through your phone. Felix had driven the both of you to the restaurant where you were meeting the boys. Stepping out of the car, the cold, chilly air of the evening had hit you both straight in the face, and you had grinned just as the rest of the boys had come bounding up.

Jisung had tackled you in a full-blown hug, Minho and Seungmin both having to pry him off you, while Chan wrestled with Changbin's arms that were wrapped tightly around Felix. You'd been released, slightly breathless, but so, so glad to see them. Their schedules hadn't allowed for much personal time, so it was lovely to be able to sit with them under the deep gloaming of the sky and eat to your hearts' content.

It had been so long.

Finally controlling your laughter, you held onto Felix's arm to keep yourself upright, wiping away a stray tear of mirth just as Jisung choked. Chan let out a yelp, moving to Jisung's side, and Hyunjin slapped his friend harshly on the back, trying to dislodge the food.

Felix and you bent over wheezing just as Jisung cleared his airways, flipping two thumbs in the air and grinning. Your head was beginning to hurt from the laughing but you brushed it off as the rowdy group continued with the meal.

The night progressed smoothly for the next few hours, the boys talking and laughing and chattering, and you doing the exact same. Your head was beginning to throb slightly and you sipped on your drink, the iced, saccharine, carbonated drink doing nothing to ease the growing aching in your temples. Pressing your thumbs discreetly to the space under your eyes, you breathed deeply, trying to still the aching throb. When that didn't work, you dropped your hands, sighing. Guess you'd be nursing a headache for the rest of the night. You clenched the cold glass in your hand, the condensation dripping off and forming a ring on the varnished table underneath. Felix nudged you suddenly, his eyes alight with the soft, golden glow from the street fairy lights hanging overhead. His voice was soft, considering the fact he'd been pretty much yelling excitedly for most of the night.

"You okay?" he smiled, leaning down a little to peer into your eyes.

You nod mutely, not wanting to exacerbate the pain in your head, and not wanting to risk ruining the night for Felix. It'd been so long since he'd been able to just enjoy himself, no dance practices, no promotions, no fansigns or vocal lessons. Just him and his friends.

And you.

But it felt like your head had been split in half. A searing pain shot through your forehead, followed by a dull ache where the bridge of your nose met your eyelids. You clenched your fists, trying to stop a rush of frustrated tears. Why did you always have to ruin everything?

Felix, noticing your worrying lack of response, placed a reassuring, warm hand on your thigh. He leaned down a little more, eyes filled with concern and a little confusion.

"Sunflower?" he spoke lowly, just loud enough for only you to hear. "What's wrong? You look pale..." he took your hand, squeezing it lightly. You saw Minho and Hyunjin glance at you out of the corner of your eye, seemingly worried, or curious. Or both. Hyunjin looked away hastily just as Felix leaned in to kiss your forehead. Taking your hand, he stood up, and so did you, with some difficulty.

"Where are you going?" Chan said, eyebrows furrowed in concern. He looked between you and Felix, rising out of his seat a little.

"Home," was Felix's reply.

A chorus of disappointed awwws and protests arose from the group. Felix only gripped your hand tighter.

"Why?" asked Jeongin.

You collapse back into your seat, unable to stand any longer. Your ears were ringing and your knees felt weak. The fatigue had spread to every part of your body and you weren't sure if you were even going to make it home. Doubling over, you plant your forehead onto the table with a thud, groaning at the pain.

Nervous, concerned murmuring breaks out amongst the group before Chan waves them silent with a hand. You feel Felix's hand on your bicep and around your waist, Chan's forearm looping around your other arm. They both stand and begin walking down the street, where Felix parked the car. You hear him give the boys a half-hearted goodbye before he's focusing on getting you inside the car. You hear Chan murmuring before the door opens and you're back in the passenger seat, the smell of leather and Felix's favourite cologne filling your nose. You see Felix hug his friend, then Chan's hand affectionately running through your hair, then the door shuts and Felix is driving home.

The drive home feels like ages.

You balance precariously on the border between consciousness and unconsciousness, the world outside the window swirling into a blurry haze. Your head feels numb. You barely register a pair of warm, steady arms wrapping around your frame, and then suddenly, you're in bed, Felix's hand smoothing over your forehead. He tilts your head back and gives you medication, elevating your legs on a thick pillow once your restricting jeans have been gotten rid of.

You feel him gently tugging off the rest of your clothes to avoid making you overheat, and you do your best to help, but he rubs your limbs and shushes you quietly before turning the AC on and covering you with a thin, breathable blanket. It's not long before he undresses and slips into bed next to you, burrowing into the blankets the way he always does. He lets out a pleased squeak at the warmth before he turns over, his hand coming out from underneath the blanket to trace little patterns over your stomach. You feel him doodling hearts, and even through the pain, you can't help the little smile that tweaks at the corners of your mouth. You weakly reach a hand out and touch his cheek, just as you begin to fall into the deep, immuring sleep of the utterly ill and exhausted.

Felix kisses your palm, light as a feather, before tucking his head into the juncture of your neck. He murmurs something, very quietly, into the soft skin.

"I love you, sunflower."

a/n: i hate getting headaches :( just the worst

Your Skz 9th member was so good, you really know how to write the members so well, their relationships with each other are perfect 😍 you should definitely write more 9th member

thank you so much anon ! yeah i definitely will once i get time and think up some new plotlines.

keep an eye out for updates !

opal - lee know

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: you and leeknow go to the rescue shelter

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, cats, not proofread, brief mentions of an injury, yes i know writing leeknow fics about cats is very typical but it's so wholesome

a/n: almost to 100 !

"Minho, look at this one!"

You grin and jump up and down on the spot, moving to tug your boyfriend away from the rescue shelter's notice board. You pull him over to the cages to stare through the bars. He blinks, and a big-eyed black cat stares right back.

"Little thing," he muses, poking a finger through the cage bars. The cat hisses wildly and swipes at Minho, drawing a thin, clean line of blood on his palm.

You let out an "oh!" of dismay and tug his hand out, but Minho doesn't blink, not even when you use your sleeve to wipe away the scarlet liquid. He simply blinks again before poking his unoccupied hand through the bars again, trying to tug his injured hand out of your grip.

"Stop it, you're hurt!"

"It's just a scratch."

You huff, keeping a firm grip on his wrist, trying insistently to get him to listen. As expected, he doesn't, simply looking at you with a dismissive sigh and turning his attention back to the cat, which is now a fluffy, frightened ball, backing up against the far end of its cage. Minho lowers his voice, speaking in a quiet, reassuring voice to the cat. You fight a smile.

"You know," he says softly to the frightened ball of dark fluff, "I have three cats at home. Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. They've scratched me lots of times, especially when I first got them. I'm not mad that you scratched me. It's okay."

Your heart melts as a smile pushes its way onto your lips. It's cute that he's talking to it, but-

"Minho, it's a cat. I'm not sure it understands-"

"It does," he says softly.

And sure enough, the dark fur of the cat is no longer ruffled and raised. It's crept up to the bars of the cage, inquisitively tilting its head at Minho, who tilts his own in return. He grins.

"See?" he says triumphantly. "It does understand."

You hum affectionately and bend down a little to peer into the cat's eyes, still holding Minho's cut hand. They're a rich, pretty shade of blue, a bit like opals, and they catch the light as they tilt to your face. You smile a little and reach out a finger, letting the cat sniff it curiously.

You've made up your mind. "Let's get this one."

Minho nods, smiling. He stands up, looking to the volunteer, and asks for the adoption paperwork. She runs off to get it. He turns back to the cat, who's now pawing at the bars of his cage, purring up at Minho.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" he says softly, tone hushed.

You nod. "Pretty eyes."

Minho chuckles, tapping the cage door lightly. "We'll get him home soon enough. Oh, and Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"You can let go of my hand now."

a/n: hmmm not sure if i like it but i need to write more fics for minho TT

Can you do something fluffy with 29 and 45 with Changbin? Glad to see you back!! (JJ)

hihi <3 thanks for the request, it's good to be back! this is my first time writing prompts but it's super helpful actually... idk why i didn't do it before. i know you said fluff but i've been itching to write spy!changbin for so long so i just did it quite lighthearted. lmk if you want a rewrite <3

gatecrasher - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

summary: you and changbin get sent on a spy mission. look i don't know what the fucking description for this is supposed to be okay

genre: fluff, superspy! au, crack, pretty lighthearted, a few mentions of guns but that's it, kiwi hyunjin surprise appearance

a/n: i mean, come on. changbin as a spy? yes.

⛓️ prompts: 29. "I like the way you think." / 45. "This changes everything."

skz prompt list | skz masterlist

Changbin is smirking as you reach the bottom of the red-carpeted stairs, his hands tucked into the pockets of his sleek, dark suit. The top button of his dark dress shirt is undone and he pulls the material away from his skin, fanning himself dramatically as you reach to take his extended hand.

He bows exaggeratedly and you swat at his chest, chuckling. You subtly brush a hand across your thigh to feel that the gun holster strapped to your thigh hasn't come loose. You know the exact model and make of your pistol is also strapped against Changbin's chest, sleek and dark and out of sight.

For now.

Adjusting the comm-link in your ear, you take Changbin's arm as you two subtly blend in amongst the other guests. The ballroom is large and sumptuous, filled with sparkling light and expensive items for auction. The guests themselves are dripping in diamonds and glamourous clothing and you fight the bile rising in the back of your throat. These people are so snobby and oblivious.

Changbin nudges you silently and you both take several steps backwards, disappearing behind a heavy velvet curtain. Part of you wishes you could keep walking through the ballroom and admire everything, but you and Changbin have a job to do.

That's the thing about being a spy. Sometimes you want to do things and then your duties tug you in the other direction, the way an irritated owner might tug their yappy dog on a leash.

"By the way," Changbin whispers from where he's situated next to you, "you look good."

"You too, gatecrasher."

He rolls his eyes. "We're spies. We're allowed to gatecrash. Legally. I think."

He tugs on your arm now, leading you to the curtain. You're both here to acquire a precious item; or rather swipe it and bring it back to your headquarters. Peeking out from in front of Changbin, you notice the target item being inspected by a snobby-looking man and another woman.

"What now?" You whisper.

Changbin hums from where he's looking out the curtain above you. "We just have to wait a while until they leave. Then we'll swipe it."

You groan softly. "I hate waiting. It'll take ages for that guy and his wife to leave. Look how much they're yapping."

He snickers. "Some particular intel tells me that woman with the snobby-looking guy is his mistress, not his wife."

You gasp, equal parts scandalised and delighted. Changbin claps a hand over his mouth to muffle his laugh.

"Or," he says, clearly struggling to hold his mirth in, "We could go now and try to fake-buy the stupid thing first. This is an auction, after all."

"Yeah. One that we broke into."

He rolls his eyes and pokes your forehead. "That's because it's our job to break into places and steal things. It's for the greater good."

You grin. "Greater good, my a-"

"Shut up, they'll hear us. Let's just wait a couple minutes then stroll out all posh and try and win the auction for the item."

You smirk and look back out the curtain. "I like the way you think."

Changbin nods modestly. "I know you do. It's very obvious."

"Just one thing, how are we supposed to walk out of here with the item? You have to pay for it and then show your receipt to the bouncers at the door."

He grins. "We'll figure that out soon enough."

You roll your eyes and turn back to peek through the curtains. A tiny, almost inaudible sound from behind you makes both you and Changbin whip around, guns unholstered and in hand.

Hwang Hyunjin is leaning against the wall, dressed in a sleek white and black tuxedo. His hair is startingly different, now a shorn dirty blonde and you find yourself missing his long, dark locks all of a sudden. Not that he looks bad. He looks good, pretty even-

You gulp as Changbin lets out a small puff of laughter. "Hello, kiwi."

Hyunjin just rolls his eyes, his voice a low drawl. "Hello, Bin. Chief sent me to keep an eye on you two. Swiped that pretty target item yet?"

He looks at you as he says the word 'pretty' and you feel Changbin bristle on your behalf. Not that you mind, though you feign annoyance at Hyunjin's subtle remark.

"I don't see you with the item," Changbin retorts.

"Yeah, because I'm supervising."

You fight a laugh as Changbin turns back to the curtain, huffing dramatically. "Supervising. Totally."

Hyunjin just grins and peeks out the curtain too. "I mean, I could go get the item, since you two are content to hide behind here."

You poke him harshly in the side and he bends sideways, glaring playfully at you.

"This changes everything," Changbin huffs. "It'll look suspicious if two of us came behind this curtain and three of us walk out."

You side-eye him. "What now, then?"

Hyunjin's breath plays across your cheek. "Let's all go."

"No," you and Changbin whisper in unison.

He rolls his eyes. "On the count of three."

"Hyunjin-" You protest.

"Onetwothreego-"

And he's gone, sashaying into the crowd of opulence.

"Fucking kiwifruit man." Changbin swears, glaring through the curtain. "Come on, he'll wreak havoc on his own."

You grin and take his offered arm. "Thought he was supervising."

"Not anymore, it seems. We need to swipe that target item or at least catch up with Hyunjin. We exit from the curtain on three, okay? One-"

"Two three go!"

a/n: if i had the motivation i would have made this into a series

‧₊ a little bit sweeter - (roommate!han jisung x reader) ˚‧

pairing: college roommate!han jisung x reader

summary: jisung realises that he feels something more for his roommate who loves to bake.

genre: college!au, mentions of eating and drinking, slightly suggestive ? kissing, jisung being a whole simp for reader, one sus joke, making cookies (bc i'm craving them so bad rn)

a/n: hihi~ inspired by this post, so i'm tagging @butteredsushi and @jisunggy thanks for the fic inspo guys <3 div by @kodaswrld

skz masterlist

"Whatcha doing?"

You look up just as Jisung, your roommate, enters the kitchen, no doubt drawn by the clattering noises that you've filled the flat with. He hops up on the counter, peeking behind you in interest, where you've set a heap of bowls and pans onto the countertop.

"Just wanted to make something," you exhale, poking his cheek before moving to find the bowl you're looking for. Jisung hums and sits back on the counter, leaning on his hands as he watches you clumsily sift through the pile, muttering to yourself.

"Do I get to eat whatever it is that you're making?" He asks carefully, secretly crossing his fingers in a hope you'll say yes.

You huff and stand up from where you've been bending and peering into the cabinets. "Ji, we literally live together."

"Yeah, but like, were you planning to eat it all by yourself?"

You laugh, gesturing for him to open the cupboard directly below his feet, which he does. "Maybe, but we both know you would have eaten most of it. Do you want to eat something specific?"

"Cookies," he says instantly, not hesitating. His cheeks flush pink.

You roll your eyes, taking out a spoon. "Should've known."

Jisung throws his hands up defensively. "What? They're good for days like this, with the weather how it is right now. Be for real."

He has a point, you think as you look out the window.

It's drizzling in a fine swell over what you can see of the city, a heavy, almost blue fog casting itself like a blanket over the buildings. Classes ended early today, and you'd wanted nothing more to rush back to your dorm and rid yourself of the soaked, cold clothes you'd had to be in all morning.

To say the least, it had been extremely unpleasant weather, and it had taken at least an hour standing under the steaming water of the shower to try and bring your body's temperature up again.

You shiver as your eyes flicker over to the door, your still-wet shoes leaking droplets of storm water onto the plastic bag you'd set them upon in an attempt to keep the floor dry. Jisung was already back from his lecture by the time you got in, and he hadn't even looked up as you'd rushed into your room and slammed the door, soaking wet and chattering as you turned the water on.

At least, you think he hadn't looked up at you. In reality, he'd been waiting for the moment the door would open and you would come in.

But you didn't notice. You never do.

You set two more bowls onto the counter, missing the way Jisung's eyes follow yours as you move across the floor, gaze fixed on the way your hair is still drying, hanging in little damp clusters over your ears and nape. Your cheeks are flushed, most likely from the boiling water you shower in, and your figure is swamped in an oversized hoodie and a pair of grey sweats. His heart jolts as he looks you up and down, trying to fight that warm feeling that seems to rise in his chest every time he meets your gaze.

I have a hoodie that looks almost the same... it looks like you're wearing my clothes. That'd be so hot...

"...and then I had to rush all the way back here because it was so cold and rainy outside. You have a point, to be honest; I was thinking about eating something warm and delicious when I got back, but I wanted something a little bit sweeter- Ji. Ji, are you listening?"

"H-huh?" He shakes his head, thoughts of you in his clothes hastily evaporating. "Uh, yeah."

You point a measuring cup at him cheekily. "Liar. What's wrong? Are you too hot? I can turn the thermostat down if you want... I turned it up super high when I got back because it was so cold-"

"N-no, it's okay," he interrupts. "Sorry. Just a long morning. Classes and all that."

You shoot him a sympathetic look, opening a packet of self-raising flour. "Yeah, I get that. Poor you... And all this rain, too... not really ideal for all the walking we have to do nowadays."

Jisung can't help but smile softly at your rambling, holding the edge of the bowl as you almost knock it off the countertop. Your measuring spoon gets bumped in the process and a small puff of flour spills onto Jisung's knee, dusting the loose, black denim.

"Oops," you say sheepishly, setting the cup down. "Sorry."

He's about to reply and tell you it's okay before his gaze flits down to your hand, which is gently brushing off his knee. And suddenly, he can't seem to focus on anything but your touch. It's warm, even through the thick fabric, and he finds himself wishing you'd bumped the measuring cup a little harder so you could be brushing off all the flour for longer, your fingers gentle against his leg.

He doesn't even mind that there's a subtle white patch on the denim where it spilt.

You scratch the back of your head. "Hang on, let me get a paper towel-"

"No, don't worry," he blurts out. "I-it's fine."

You look up in surprise, tapping another cupful of flour into the bowl before adding a haphazard mix of baking soda, salt, and cornstarch over it. "Are you sure? I'm gonna make a mess in this place. I don't want your clothes to get dirty..."

"It's fine," he says again, a little more confidently. "I can just take them off."

You splutter, sending a puff of flour into the air, making both of you cough as Jisung waves his hands frantically, cheeks scarlet.

"I-i didn't mean it like that," he coughs, flustered. "I meant-"

"I know what you meant," you say, fighting a grin as you turn away to open the fridge. "Honestly, Ji."

He drops his face into his hands just as you crack two eggs into another bowl, heading back to the fridge for the stick of half-finished butter on the top shelf. You've learnt to buy more butter than you think you need; your roommate has a habit of using far too much butter than necessary on his toast. Not that your topping habits are much better; the Nutella jar is usually empty after a day.

Anyways.

Placing the rest of the butter in a small glass bowl, you set the microwave timer for 30 seconds before closing the door. Jisung's eyes follow the bowl spinning round and round inside, the butter seeping and melting into an oily mess against the glass edges.

His fingers tap against the countertop as you move your bowls over to where he's sitting, your shoulder brushing his arm as you busy yourself with tipping brown and granulated sugar into yet another bowl. Jisung cheekily dips his finger into the mixture and brings it to his mouth as you smack his hand away, relishing the raw, saccharine taste of the grains.

"You have to stop doing that.. Ew, Ji!"

He wipes his finger nonchalantly on your arm, much to your disgust. Ignoring your groans, he hums to himself as you take the melted butter from the microwave, slamming the door shut again.

"Stop doing what?" He says innocently.

"Dipping your little thieving paws into the bowls... you'll contaminate it. And wiping said paws on my arm..."

"So?" He says, grinning, ears still red from his earlier comment. "It's not like anyone else but you and me are eating the stuff you make."

You huff and tip the butter into the bowl, spilling half of it in the process. "I'm gonna put raisins in these if you keep provoking me."

"No!"

"Shut up and stop bothering me then," you huff, one hand coming up to matter-of-factly wipe a tiny speckle of sugar from the corner of his lip.

He's about to make a comment, but he goes silent; his face turns the colour of the cherry tomatoes in the fridge crisper as you whisk the butter into the sugar mixture. You don't even notice how quiet he's gone, and as a habit, begin to ramble.

"I can't believe the mixer broke," you say absentmindedly. "I had to search for ages and ages for a recipe that didn't need a mixer for the process. It's actually so much easier to melt the butter too... last time I did this, I didn't mix it all in properly so the cookies tasted horrible after- not that you cared, of course, because I came back to the glass dish where I put them in a day before and they were all gone- Ji, you're not listening again."

"Yes I am," he says, strained. His face is red.

"No you're not. Anyways, I had to find substitutes for most of the ingredients until I could get to the store last week.."

You run off on yet another tangent about the recipe and different methods of baking and flavours, but all Jisung can focus on is the fact that you just touched his lip, wiped away whatever it was that what on his mouth, without so much as blinking. Like it was nothing... He finds himself beginning to panic a little; his face still feels all hot and tingly.

They just wiped my mouth for me... Wait, isn't that what couples do in the movies?? Does that mean.. no, it doesn't, because they didn't even blink when they did it. There's no way they feel the way I do right now, like this- is it hot in here? My face feels so warm...

He's about to lift the neckline of his hoodie to try and fan some air into his body, but not before something sweet-smelling and textured lands on the apple of his cheekbone.

He freezes, watching as you dip a finger into a bowl full of white paste. Frosting.

You know Jisung likes frosting on his cookies; it's a fact he hasn't even told you, but you know from the way he always secretly opens the tub of ready-made icing in the fridge that he likes them to be eaten that way. You always make a bowl of it whenever you bake now, just for him. Currently, you can't get over the look on his face; shocked, and almost distant, like he was distracted by something.

You managed to crack the eggs, mix all the ingredients together, add chocolate chips to the mixture, form the dough into balls, and put it all into the oven without him making so much as a comment. And then slightly warm up the icing too. He's never been this quiet.

Like, ever.

"Are you okay?" You smile. "You look a million miles away."

He gulps and watches as you dip a different finger into the icing, some of it remaining on your lip as you lick your fingertip clean. He can feel the tiny dollop of frosting you've dotted on his cheek. It's probably melting with how hot his face feels.

His gaze never leaves your mouth, and his eyes flit to the mess you've made of the counter; there's not a single ingredient you haven't managed to spill a quantity of. Most of it is staining your clothes too, not that you seem to care.

Y/n...

"Ji?" You wave a hand in front of his face, trying to rid him of the glazed look in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Silence. Then-

"You look so beautiful," he murmurs.

It slips out so unexpectedly that he can't even bring himself to be surprised or regretful about it; if he never tells you, you'll never know how stunning you look in the moment, all damp hair and flour-smeared cheeks.

And maybe you don't look lovely to anyone else, but to Jisung, he's never seen anything more beautiful. And in a moment of instant clarity, he knows he's regret it forever if he doesn't tell you how he's felt for so long. Or worse, if someone else decides to tell you the same thing, and he never gets his chance...

You blink at the unexpected sentiment, not thinking much of it. "Thanks."

Turning away, you pick up a bowl and deposit it in the sink before Jisung pulls you back by the shoulder, you tumbling between his legs from where he's still sitting on the counter.

You don't even get a moment to process what's happening before his mouth is pressed gently against yours, tasting of sweet icing and brown sugar.

You mold yourself immediately into his embrace as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you a little closer as his head tilts to the left. You're pretty sure he's almost breaking his neck, kissing you like this, but you couldn't care less, and it seems, neither can he.

"Jisung," you exhale against his lips, almost gasping.

"Sorry," he whispers, though there's a hint of cheekiness behind it that he can't quite disguise. "Should've asked to kiss you..."

You giggle and pull him in again, your hands finding their way to his nape, playing with the tiny, soft hairs there before he pulls back to gaze at you. "It's okay."

He looks too far gone now; his hair is deliciously rumpled from you running your fingers every which way through it, his cheeks still stained pink. The frosting on his cheek is smeared, a long, pale streak against the perfect planes of his skin.

You're about to pull him in again, and his mouth eagerly moves towards yours, but he only gets a light brush against your lips before the oven timer rudely interrupts, beeping and echoing in the silence of the flat. He groans as you turn away and reach across to switch it off.

You hear Jisung laugh breathlessly behind you as you peer through the oven glass; the cookies, once round and perfect, have now spread into a chocolatey mess across the baking tray, and you can see several small bits of dough beginning to burn dark against the hot surface of the oven grilles.

"Shit," you mumble as Jisung pulls you back into him, peppering kisses over your face. "I forgot to chill the dough before I put them in..."

"Screw that," he sighs against you. "We should chill instead. Just us, hmm? Cancel whatever plans you had..."

"Done," you whisper. "But what about the cookies-"

Jisung pulls you impossibly closer, his breath a warm fan across your cheeks and neck.

"Forget that," he murmurs. "I have something sweeter."

a/n: i forgot how fun writing jisung is >< asks open !

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