⋆✧ Ttokki's Skz Prompt List ! ✧⋆

General fluff headcanons with skz

(If not all then just with Chan and Hyunjin!!) ♥️

hihi sweet anon i'm sorry this took so astronomically long ... it's here now tho oops . i got hit with writer's block and lost motivation sigh ... hyunjin version is dropping later tonight, and i might continue the headcanon series if people request for the other members :] we'll see tho <3

bang chan - skz fluff headcanons

pairing: bang chan x reader

summary: chan headcanons

genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort, general fluff headcanons, chan is just a silly lil thing

a/n: i hate writer's block . divider from @aewinse

masterlist

...

first of all

lots of physical affection

like, lots

anywhere he can get you, anywhere he can find you, he's coiling his arms around your waist or around your shoulders, leaning over your shoulder to nosily look at whatever it is you're doing

sometimes, if he wants attention, and is in a whiny mood, he'll drape himself over you and let his weight sag onto your body from behind

which usually results in a panicked squeal from you, a chuckle from chan, and therefore the two of you sprawled in a heap on the floor

from there, you're not getting up

say goodbye to whatever it was you were doing because chan will happily lie on top of you for as long as he pleases

unless you urgently need to get up, like to turn off the stove or go to the bathroom, chan will keep you in his arms for a very long time

the fact that your legs go numb after a while because of his weight is also an advantage in chan's eyes

he can literally just lift you up and place you on the bed or the couch to cuddle with him like a little plush toy

albeit a very whiny one

when he's feeling a little more playful, and in need of your affection, he'll come up behind you and suddenly throw you over his shoulder

the world goes upside down and before you know it, you're cozied up with a giggly chan

he loves taking naps with you fr

we all know this man does not sleep like at all but somehow having you near him helps a lot

he always finds that your warmth makes him feel relaxed and cozy, and he doesn't have to worry about what comes next because it's just you and him, right now

even if he doesn't manage to get to sleep, he's content with just peacefully watching you sleep, and likes to stroke your hair or talk to you softly

even though you can't hear him

chan also loves to cook for you !!

he's always bugging minho to teach him new recipes so he can cook really good food for you

eventually minho just sends him a list of recipe blogs and websites and you usually come home to something hot on the stove

chan's super busy, so on the days he can't be there to cook for you, he'll prepare food beforehand and freeze several containers so you don't have to cook

he gets to take care of you, and you get to eat well

win win

you always save half the portion of your food so that when chan comes home, he can eat quickly before slipping into bed next to your sleeping figure

he doesn't like it much when you do that, since he wants you to eat well without having to worry about him

you do it anyway, knowing that chan often doesn't have the energy or time to make food for himself after a tiring day at the company

also !!

he likes inviting you to his solo studio sessions, usually late at night or during his free time at the company

sits you on his lap without fear because he always locks the door beforehand

"can't have the kids walking in on us,"

or so he says

he just wants you all to himself

you trace the veins on his hands and forearms while he mixes beats and adds elements to his tracks

hums softly into your ear while you lay your head against his chest

and when you get tired, he'll lift you carefully and place you on the studio couch, draping his thick, cologne-scented leather jacket over you

also i just know he smells so good okay

like

i'm thinking like spicy, smoky sort of scent

but not like bushfire smoky or whatever

like a soft, subtle, masculine smell

more woodsy and leather-like

ughhh

he always pulls up these fragrance websites on his phone, maybe from fendi or another fashion house

he'll let you sit on his lap and choose whichever you think will suit him best

and he always buys the ones you choose, wearing your three favourites on alternate weeks so you have an excuse to be close to him

you just want to smell him

don't tell him that though kekeke

chan also loves buying you stuff though you always tell him not to

on your bad days especially, when you get home, there'll be a little care package on the bed in a pretty box tied with a ribbon

he always puts your favourite snacks, sweets, skincare products, and little gifts inside because he knows it makes you feel so much better

also always adds two facemasks so you can both do them when chan comes home

obviously you get first pick tho

chan also likes buying you little things from tour that remind you of him, or things that match the vibe of the songs they performed

when he came back from the maniac tour it was an oversized hoodie with green and purple accents, just like the theme of maniac

when he travelled to seoul for the five-star tour, he came back with a pair of black leather combat boots

and they had these little silver stars studded all over the sides, and thick silver zips

you wear both items as often as you can, trying to incorporate chan's little gifts into your everyday life

you feel bad sometimes because he keeps buying you stuff and you don't want to be a bother, but chan firmly insists on it

"baby, you're never a bother,"

please step on me ugh

aHem

moving on

in return, you always take chan's insta posts and some of his bubble pics too

he always lets you choose which ones he should post, though over time they get less and less thirty bc chan is yours and not stay's

as much as you and chan love the fans, there are some select photos you would much rather keep to yourself

it's more special that way in your opinion

chan likes to take pretty photos of you too

you get like really shy though, and chan can't have that

so he just sits you opposite him, takes your wrists in one hand, and snaps a shit ton of photos of you with the other

there's no way to get out of it

he keeps all his photos of you in a special folder on his phone, and his favourites pictures of you in a locked, password-protected folder

like your anniversary pictures, and other special memories he doesn't want other people to see

the kids nag him to show them the photos but chan never relents, wanting to keep those special memories private

your camera roll is much the same

you're also the number one supplier of bang chan blackmail material

the boys, especially minho and felix, always come to you for blackmail material and stupid photos of chan that he hates

you think they're cute but chan violently disagrees

anyways

chan honestly doesn't mind you having his less-than-favourite photos on your phone

as long as you're happy <3

a/n: reblogs and comments appreciated

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

how each skz member would do their nails - maknae line

pairing: ot8 maknae line x reader

summary: how skz maknae line would do their nails

genre: ...

a/n: lowkey running out of ideas... help

han ♡

playful and vibrant nails that match his energetic personality

a mix of bright colors like yellow, pink, and turquoise

fun designs featuring cartoon characters or food items

whimsical nail art, like polka dots or stripes

maybe some 3D elements like small charms or gems

bold and daring nail shapes that reflect his creative side

nail art inspired by his love for drawing and painting

short to medium length for practicality while still being expressive

felix ♡

medium-length nails with a sleek, polished look

soft, neutral colors like beige or light gray to match his calm demeanor

minimalist designs, perhaps with a single accent nail

subtle details like small hearts or stars for a personal touch

clean and well-groomed to reflect his meticulous nature

possibly some soft ombre effects for a unique twist

designs inspired by nature, like leaves or clouds

practical yet stylish to fit his aesthetic

seungmin ♡

short, neat nails with a classic, polished look

soft, muted colors like light gray or pale blue to reflect his calm demeanor

minimalist designs featuring subtle stripes or tiny dots

maybe a touch of understated nail art, like small hearts or stars

clean and well-groomed, focusing on simplicity

an occasional accent nail with a more playful design for fun

matte finishes for a sophisticated touch

practical yet stylish to fit his personality !

jeongin ♡

short, cute nails that reflect his youthful spirit

playful pastel colors like baby pink, mint, or lavender

simple designs featuring smiley faces or cute animals

maybe some glitter accents for a fun twist

easygoing and fun patterns that showcase his playful side

well-maintained but not overly complicated

a mix of matte and glossy finishes for variety

vibrant stickers or decals to add a personal touch

a/n: i wanna do skz's nails :(

Hi! I love everything you’re writing so I wanted to say that 😅. Also (if you can’t and I am not bothering) I was thinking if you could have written something with Felix when the reader gets bullied (it doesn’t have to be physically) because I am kinda experiencing it and…. I wanted comfort? Hahaha it sounds strange but yeah….. thank you so much 😘

hello lovely anon <3 i'm so sorry to hear you're being bullied, i've been there too and it hurts a lot . i hope this helps a little, and my dms are always open if you need someone to talk to ! you are loved !

always forever - lee felix

pairing: lee felix x reader

summary: felix comforts you when he finds out you've been getting bullied

genre: fluff, idol! au, very angsty, reader is bullied, mentions of injury, mentions of blood and scrapes (not descriptive), lots of crying, sad shit overall, hurt to comfort

a/n: if you're being bullied, please reach out . take care of yourself lovelies 🫶

You hurry down the paved pathway, slipping between the throngs of pedestrians on the sidewalk. Mumbling a half-hearted 'sorry' to an older woman who you'd accidentally bumped, you push past the park gates and find yourself wandering the paved path through the grass.

There aren't many people around, since it's a weekday afternoon, and you're glad of it. Your tie blows in the light, summery breeze as you hurry down a widened path, the trees expertly twined together and grown over time to form a giant, leafy archway. The lush, green canopy provides a welcome shelter from the afternoon heat, and you stumble as you pass a patch of dappled sunlight that's filtering through the leaves.

You land with a solid ugh onto the pebbly pavement, the side of your head knocking a little against the ground. You wheeze, the air leaving your lungs in a low, instant huff. It hurts so bad you instantly roll onto your side. There's nothing more you want to do than curl up, lie here, and cry, but the small, sensible voice in your head tells you to stand up and find somewhere to sit.

Groaning, you heave yourself to your feet and collapse onto the nearest bench. The tears fill your eyes then and you heave, doubling over, the impact from hitting the ground, the terrible course of the day, and your general state of dishevel rushing up on you in a dizzying wave of nausea and overwhelm.

You cry.

☆☆☆

Gentle footsteps crunch against the pebbled pavement, and you feel a presence move to sit quietly beside you. Your have your knees tucked up to your chest, your head buried between them, so you have no clue who it is.

A faint scent of vanilla fans over you with the soft breeze and you feel a warm, calloused fingertip gently poke the side of your head.

You sniff. "Go away, Felix."

Felix sighs and leans his head on yours, careful not to put too much pressure on you. One hand moves to place itself on top of yours, the deep, velvety tone of his voice penetrating the walls you've built up around yourself.

"Y/n, lift your head."

"No."

"Please?"

You sigh and lift your head at his pleading request, which feels like it's made of lead, and look at him. Your eyes are red-rimmed and watery, hot tears spilling down your cheeks like little rivers of flames. Felix sighs softly and puts an arm around your hunched figure, pulling you into him gently. His warmth envelops you and it's the safest you've felt all day.

"What happened?" he says quietly so as not to scare you. "I was walking back from the shop and I saw you dashing the other way crying."

You sniff, your voice cracked and pitched in distress. "They hate me, Felix. I don't know why, it's just every time they see me, I walk away feeling like shit. They hate me and it's making me hate myself, I feel like I don't even matter-"

Felix's eyes widen and his hold on you tightens, secure and stable around your shaking figure. He lets you sob into him, and by the time you lift your head, the juncture of his neck is soaked with tears.

"Y/n," he says softly. "They're just insecure about themselves. They hate themselves so they want to make everyone else feel the same way. Don't let them."

You cry softly. "I feel so worthless, Lix..."

"You're not worthless, Y/n. You're pretty and smart and creative and stunning and the funniest person I know. I'm constantly checking my phone to see if you've texted me, and every time the door to the studio opens, I hope that it's you.

Hyunjin-hyung and Changbin-hyung tease me all the time because I talk about you so much. The boys love you, so, so much. I do too, and I need you to understand that whatever those bullies say, it's not true. You're worth everything, and I'll be here every second to remind you in case you forget."

You drop your head into his shoulder again and he cradles it close, the warmth of his hand easing the throbbing pain in your temples. You emit a weak, watery, muffled thankyou into his now-soaked shirt and he affectionately kisses the crown of your head. Cupping your face, he looks at your face, seemingly searching.

"You're hurt," he carefully brushes a thumb across your cheekbone, a slight sting following. You probably scraped it when you fell earlier. Felix retracts his hand, his thumb stained lightly with blood. You turn your hands over. The heels of your palms are in the same condition.

Felix tuts softly, stroking the inside of each wrist. "Do you wanna come back to the studio with me? Chan, Hyunjin, and Han will most likely still be there, but there's a big first aid kit in the cupboard, and Chan-hyung might be able to help fix you up."

"I don't want to burden-"

"You're not being a burden," Felix cups your face firmly. "You'll never be a burden to me. Just keep fighting and let me help. Let us help. You don't have to keep doing it alone."

You nod, and move to stand up. Your knees protest in the form of a stinging, searing pain, the scrapes disturbed. You wince and flop back onto the bench, groaning. It's replaced by a yelp as Felix hoists you effortlessly into his arms, bridal-style. Your hands lock around his shoulders and he grins.

"Let's go."

Despite the situation, a question nags at your conscience. "Lix, weren't you supposed to be at dance practice at this time? How come you were out."

Felix begins walking, a cheeky smile making its way onto his freckled face. "I snuck out because Hyunjin wouldn't stop nagging me. Besides, I wanted food from that really good ramen restaurant down the street."

You cover your mouth with a scraped hand. "The rest of the boys are never going to let this go once they find out."

Felix winces. "Oh well. I snuck out for a snack and came back with a Y/n, so I don't think they'll mind-"

You squeal and swat his chest. Felix laughs and continues carrying you down the path.

"Felix?"

He responds with a hum, still smiling softly.

"Thankyou for helping me."

Felix chuckles lightly. The arm that's cupping your shoulders squeezes gently, sending heatwaves flooding into your veins.

"Always and forever, okay?"

a/n: my heart hurts

day6 got a comeback~ what about reader and seungmin fangirling about it and listening to the album togheter?

...so the only reason i know day6 is because of lee know's 'love me or leave me' cover lol. also i know nothing about albums (can you tell) anyway here you go, anon <3

band aid - kim seungmin

pairing: kim seungmin x reader

summary: you and seungmin listen to the new day6 album together

genre: fluff, idol! au, seungmin and reader both love day6, not proofread i couldn't be bothered, sue me

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

"Seung, the album arrived!"

There's a bang from down the hallway, the sound of what is most likely your boyfriend tripping, a muttered curse word, and then the padding of hurried footsteps as Seungmin makes his way down the corridor. He appears in the living room, dressed in a tee and shorts. His toothbrush is hanging out of his mouth as he hastily runs his hands through his hair, trying to make himself look presentable.

You laugh. "You didn't have to run. I would have waited."

He opens his mouth to speak, the toothbrush slipping out. It clinks against the floor and Seungmin groans, making his way to the kitchen for paper towels. Returning, he wipes away the toothpaste foam from the floorboards and glances at the DAY6 album in your hands. You sit down and gesture to him, grinning at his cutely disheveled morning state.

"Go and wash up first. I'll wait."

-

Ten minutes and two cups of coffee later, you and Seungmin are sitting in the bedroom cross-legged, the album between you. You glance at each other before Seungmin reaches to tear off the thin, shiny, protective plastic. He picks up the photobook and begins flipping through it while you reach for the CD. The words 'BAND AID' stand out in bold black lettering and you tilt the CD from side to side, admiring it, just as Seungmin whistles, showing you a photo from the photobook. The smell of glossy magazine-type paper fills the room and you grin just as Seungmin reaches for the lyric sheets.

The lyric sheets are always his favourite part. Once, you bought a Stray Kids album, and Seungmin had sat with you, even if he already knew what was inside. He'd immediately reached for the lyric sheets, reading over them with wide, fascinated eyes. You'd simply laughed and left him to his devices, deducing that he was simply fond of the poetic lyricism skills involved, being a talented singer himself. Every album since then, Seungmin had always claimed the lyrics. But you never minded, having shown more interest in the photocards and stickers anyway.

It was a win-win situation.

You grin and peel off a holographic sticker, picking up your phone and sticking it to the case. Handing the sheet to Seungmin, you laugh as he does the exact same, selecting one carefully, even going so far to put a similar sticker in the exact same position as yours on his own phone case.

Sifting through the various album paraphernalia, you and Seungmin lock eyes just as the two photocards appear from the pile. Taking one, you hand the other to your boyfriend face down. Locking eyes, you grin, a little apprehensively. Your bias is Sungjin. His bias is Dowoon. There's a good chance either you or him will pull your bias. Either that, or you'll fight over the photocards (Seungmin always lets you have the photocards anyway, so you're not too bothered). The tradition is to hold the photocards face down, and then count down from three before flipping them. Readjusting yourself in your cross-legged position, you grin.

"Three," you say. "Two. One."

You flip the photocards. Seungmin pulled Sungjin. You pulled Dowoon. There's a moment of stunned silence between the both of you before Seungmin screeches, lunging for the photocard of his bias, still in your grip. There's a brief kerfuffle of shrieking and flapping before Seungmin settles back into his spot, an iron grip on the little card of Dowoon. You grin, cheeks flushed from the sudden exertion, and look down at the card of Sungjin. You thump Seungmin on the shoulder.

"You could literally go and ask DAY6 themselves for a free album," you whine, reminding him. "No need to get so frantic about it."

"No."

You flop onto your back, gazing up at Seungmin as you lay your legs across his lap. "You're literally friends with your bias."

Seungmin sighs and slips the photocard into his phone case, glaring at you as you eye the card of Dowoon. He reaches across and puts his phone on the bed, out of your grasp. Just in case.

"Don't even think about it," he huffs.

You roll your eyes at his overdramatic behaviour. "You might as well join DAY6 at this rate. You own more of their albums than you do of your own group," you gesture to the bookshelf in the corner of the bedroom. True to your word, at least two of the shelves are filled with DAY6 merchandise and albums. Stray Kids' albums make up about half a shelf below them, and PuppyM is beginning to collect dust on the shelf.

Seungmin whines. "But I'm in Stray Kids."

"I thought you were in the building," you giggle as you pick up the album, yelping as it's snatched out of your grip.

"No," Seungmin grumbles, hugging the DAY6 album to his chest. "Seungmin in the album."

You laugh and thwack him in the chest, nimble fingers picking up the CD.

"Let's go listen to the tracks."

a/n: seungmin in the album yall

lonely st. ✧ chapter ii : the first glimpse

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)

warnings: lonely reader, school!au, hyunjin gets a minor injury ft. concerned basketballers jisung and felix, awkward y/n

a/n: i had so much fun writing jisung's dialogue, he is truly best friend goals

series masterlist | skz masterlist

Hyunjin leaned against the lockers, his long, lean frame sagging onto the slightly dented metal surface. Early morning sunlight filtered in through the school windows. He held a basketball in his hands and was turning it thoughtfully, lost in his own mind.

"-and then she said to me, like, all whiny, Jisung, you can't eat that, I need it for my science dissection- Yah. YAH. Hyunjin! Have you even been listening to my story?"

Hyunjin's head snapped up, wide, unfocused eyes meeting his friend's. He shook his head lightly.

Jisung groaned, slamming his locker door shut and snatching the basketball from Hyunjin. He tossed it up in the air a couple times and made to fake-pass it to his friend.

Hyunjin flinched, his hands coming up unsurely.

"Man, you're really out of it," Jisung said in half-concern, half-wonder. "You never fall for the fake-pass thing. What's up?"

Hyunjin sighed, shaking his head. "I- um, just haven't been sleeping that well lately. It's fine."

Jisung scoffed as they both began to walk to their morning basketball practice. He absentmindedly tossed the ball up in the air, catching it with a smooth, practiced ease.

"Nice try, dude. You sleep like a dead log. Come on, just tell me."

Hyunjin sighed, for once feeling a little irritated towards his best friend and his unusually perceptive nature. But he shoved it down without a second thought.

He's only trying to help.

"I, um- there's this girl," he began unsurely.

Jisung let out a highly overexaggerated gasp, his breath catching in his throat. He dropped the basketball and doubled over, thumping his chest. Sighing and patting Jisung's back firmly, Hyunjin jogged to pick the ball up.

Jisung stood up, gasping as he cleared his throat loudly. He was grinning ear to ear, a sly smirk twinging at the corners of his mouth.

"Ohhh, I see. No, no, I get it. A girl," he drew the last word out, smirking at his friend.

Normally, Hyunjin would have shoved him playfully, teasing and laughing. But his face didn't betray even the slightest hint of a smile. He just couldn't feel cheerful if he tried, too buried in his thoughts to do anything but the smallest and most necessary of movements.

Jisung tilted his head at him, looking genuinely worried. Hyunjin was staring at the floor, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in thought. Or distress. Or in mad, uncontrollable love.

Or all three, Jisung thought.

"Hyunjin, do you think Coach will split us into training teams for the championship rounds? Because he did that last time, and I got stuck with your idiot friend here."

Jisung whined, tossing a half-empty can of deodorant at Felix, who caught it effortlessly.

"I'm not that bad," Jisung huffed. Felix just rolled his eyes, turning back to his changing locker with a subtle mutter of 'yes you are'.

The locker room was unusually quiet; most likely due to the early hour. No sane teenage boy wanted to be at school this early, and not for basketball practice at the very least either. Not that Hyunjin noticed, still lost in his thoughts.

Felix tugged his shirt off tiredly, digging through his bag for his jersey and shorts. He moved next to Jisung, picking up his clothes where he'd left them lying on the bench. Slipping his jersey on with a disgruntled huff, he leant in to whisper discreetly to his friend.

"Is Hyunjin okay? He's been standing like that for, like, fifteen minutes."

True to Felix's word, Hyunjin had been standing at his changing locker for a while. His usual white shirt was half tugged off, his jersey hanging limply from his hands. He was staring down dimly into his bag, where unbeknownst to his friends, he'd hidden Y/n's pen.

"I don't know," Jisung whispered back. "He's been like that all morning."

Felix's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Do you know what happened?"

Jisung sighed, slipping his own jersey on. "Some girl. I don't know. But he's been super down for some reason."

Felix's voice was low and conspiratorial. "Do you think he got dumped by some chick?"

Jisung shook his head. "Nah, I would have known. He won't talk much, though, so I just left him to it, I guess."

"Maybe he just needs time."

Jisung nodded somberly. He watched as the other boys filtered out of the locker room in yawning, hair-ruffled groups to the indoor courts.

Felix glanced at Hyunjin sympathetically before shrugging and moving away.

"Come on, boys, pick up those feet! Felix, Changbin is open, pass, pass! Like that!"

The squeaking of shoes against the polished courts and the thud of the basketball bouncing were the only sounds in the spacious, sunny gym.

Jisung wiped his sweaty forehead, tossing the ball back to Changbin as they weaved their way down the courts. They'd been playing a lot of practice games lately in preparation for the upcoming schools' championship. Glancing back at Hyunjin, who was still dragging his feet and definitely not on his usual game, Jisung sighed before running to catch up and defend his team member, who was attempting to shoot.

Hyunjin looked up just as the ball flew towards him; he caught it reflexively and began dribbling down the court. Felix, who was on the other team, made to snatch it; Hyunjin stepped back just as Felix stepped forward.

Making to dribble around his friend, Hyunjin dodged to the left, his foot catching, and fell to the floor with a sickening thud, the air whooshing unpleasantly out of his lungs.

Felix knelt down immediately, asking if he was okay, and Jisung jogged over just as Hyunjin rolled over, heaving. Felix gasped. Struggling to his hands and knees, he let his friends pull him upright. Coach blew his whistle, brows furrowing in concern, eyes zeroing in on his star player's face.

"Hyunjin! Take five. And go wash your face."

Groaning, he dragged himself off the courts and to the side, sitting down heavily on the bench. Pressing a hand to his stomach, he fought the urge to shout in frustration.

Jisung and Felix glanced at each other worriedly before resuming the game.

Hyunjin couldn't stand it anymore. Getting up with a huff, he muttered something about getting a drink and headed out of the gym, pushing the double doors shut behind himself. He wandered down the corridor, trying to ignore the slight throb in his chest. He'd fallen a lot harder than expected.

A sudden thud to his left made him look across into the opposite connecting corridor. He slipped back just in time, peeking into the hallway.

Y/n was on her hands and knees, trying to gather a stack of books, which had been scattered across the floor. Hyunjin wondered if she'd fallen over, or tripped maybe.

A group of girls from their grade were walking past, giggling and chatting about the latest whatever. Hyunjin's hands tightened on the wall just as they pointedly looked away from Y/n as they passed by, who had looked up for help.

Hyunjin stepped back into the corridor just as the girls disappeared down the hallway. Checking that they were gone, he began walking as casually as possible down the hallway, kneeling in front of Y/n. He picked up one of her books, a sleek, dark sketchpad.

"Hi," he said cautiously.

Y/n glanced at him warily before taking the sketchpad from Hyunjin's hand. She gathered the rest of her belongings and stood up, her eyes flitting to him, still kneeling.

"You're bleeding," she said hesitantly, quietly. Then she turned and walked away.

Hyunjin pressed a hand to his cheek, his fingertips coming away lightly stained in red.

Y/n leaned back in her chair, a pencil flicking between her fingertips. Scribbling down a few notes in her notebook, she set the pencil down and picked up her novel, flipping to the latest page. She smoothed out the folded corner before settling down to read.

The library was pretty much empty at lunchtimes; hardly anyone came in besides the few senior students looking for study references. Y/n thought it rather a shame; it was a lovely place, all tall, dark shelves and little hidden corners to read in. Sunlight filtered in through the arched glass windows and drew patterns across the long, polished tables.

At the same time, she was grateful; it was both a blessing and a curse that she had the opportunity to be alone. She liked being in the library, spending her spare time delving into books and sketching little drawings in her pad.

No distractions, no drama, no friends, no company.

Y/n had learned to accept the fact that she was a loner, a social outcast. Sure, she had a sort of friend group, with Sangmi, Ha-eun, Yeji, and Aeri, but they never really included her. They did try, Y/n supposed, but she never felt the spark of a social connection, never felt like she was truly part of the group.

And besides, Y/n reasoned, they always talked about things Y/n either didn't understand or wasn't a part of. The latest song release, their love lives, Sangmi's amazing achievements, the newest drama in their grade. They had all been friends since primary school, while Y/n had sort of become a pseudo-member only a couple years ago. She was a weird growth stemming off to the side, not a stranger but not exactly welcomed either.

At least, she felt like she was unwelcomed. Maybe it was just her head getting to her, but Y/n just couldn't shake the feeling of alienation. And it ate at her more and more every day. It was just easier to keep her head down and pretend like she didn't care. It was just so much easier to be alone, even if it hurt.

A sudden shuffling of footsteps halted her spiraling thoughts. Y/n hastily buried her face in her book.

Hyunjin sat down cautiously opposite her, sliding into the seat. He opened his notebook and began scribbling something.

Y/n blinked in surprise, the feeling quickly overtaken by half a scowl. Why was he always everywhere? The pen-borrowing in class, the falling over this morning, and now here. Speaking of, he still hadn't given her pen back. What did he want?

He's probably sitting with me out of curiosity or pity, Y/n thought. Or he thinks I'm trying to get his attention. Stupid, sporty boy.

Y/n huffed and slid further down in her chair, glaring over the rim of her book. Hyunjin hadn't looked up; he was quietly working on something, brows furrowed slightly in concentration. He wasn't disturbing her, or being pushy, just- sitting there.

But why here, of all places?

Y/n noticed the little cut across his cheekbone. He must have washed it out after she'd told him. She wondered what had happened; maybe he got hurt at basketball. After all, she knew he played, and he had been in his jersey when he'd moved to help her pick up her books.

He was dressed in his usual white shirt, the sleeves half rolled up his forearms. His dark tie was slightly loose under the grey sweater vest, which was a tad too big. Y/n grudgingly thought that the oversized style suited him much better anyway. He was missing his usual dark blazer.

Hesitantly, she set down her book, eyeing Hyunjin across the table. He didn't look up, still writing. Reaching into the front pocket of her bag, she pulled out a bandaid, a little cutesy chicken face detailed in yellow across it. She slid the paper-packaged item across the table to him.

"You shouldn't leave injuries uncovered, stupid," she said to him disapprovingly. "It'll get infected."

Hyunjin smiled at her warmly despite the quip, carefully undoing the adhesive strips and sticking the bandaid over the cut.

"Thanks. At least it's covered now."

Y/n nodded awkwardly, still half-glaring at him. She picked up her book, trying to focus.

"Do you always carry around bandaids?"

Y/n looked up at Hyunjin. "What?"

"You know," he gestured to her bag. "D'you keep a stash of them?"

She nodded.

"How come?" he said quietly, curiously. His face brightened suddenly. "Do you play sports too?"

Y/n scoffed. "No."

"Oh. Then why?"

"I- I just fall over a lot."

Hyunjin nodded, settling back into his chair with an effortless smile, effectively ending the small conversation.

She's lying through her teeth, he observed. Y/n never stutters.

"How's your little friend, Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin glanced over his shoulder at Jisung behind him, who was leaning on the desk with one hand, head propped up. The worksheet they were supposed to be filling out in groups was blank under his forearms.

Hyunjin scoffed just as Jisung smirked. He leaned in so no one could overhear, the chatter in the classroom masking his low voice.

"Don't be like that," he said quietly. "It's not-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Jisung's voice tilted to a whiny, high-pitched lilt. "It's not like that. Heard it before, dude. C'mon. You like her, right?"

Hyunjin scoffed. "No."

"You sure?"

"She just seems really alone, so I thought I'd sit with her."

Jisung's smirk dropped in realisation. "Oh."

They both glanced behind themselves to where Y/n sat in the corner by herself, diligently filling out the worksheet. It had been ten minutes and she was already almost done. As per usual.

Jisung winced. "Hyunjin, as your best friend, I say this from the bottom of my heart; you can do a lot better."

Hyunjin slapped his friend sharply upside the head. "I told you, it's not like that. It's not a crime to talk to someone who seems really lonely."

Jisung rubbed the back of his head, huffing. "Alright, sorry, sorry. It's just that she seems really intense."

Hyunjin tugged at his tie thoughtfully. "She's pretty upfront and honest, I guess, but not mean like most people think. You know how I fell over at practice this morning?"

Jisung nodded, straight faced. "It was a very graceful, elegant fall."

"Shut up. Anyway, I went to the library to finish my essay at lunchtime and I went to sit with her. She gave me this bandaid."

Jisung tilted his head, smiling slightly. "I was wondering who gave you that. Felix will be jealous. He loves chickens."

Hyunjin saddled a leg over his chair, crossing his arms and leaning on the back of it to face Jisung. A long, dark bang fell into his face and he pushed it back impatiently.

"She's really not that bad. And besides, maybe all she needs is a friend. It can't be easy being so alone all the time."

Jisung hummed, balancing his pen on a finger. "Maybe she wants to be alone."

Hyunjin went silent. Maybe she did. But he figured there was no harm in at least becoming an acquaintance.

"Yeah, maybe," he said quietly. "But she kept looking at me curiously when I sat with her in the library earlier. She seemed really surprised that I chose to sit with her. And like I said, she wasn't being mean, just- a little awkward. Like she wasn't sure what to do."

Jisung absentmindedly ripped off a corner of his worksheet. "I feel really bad for her, to be honest."

"Then help me become friends with her."

Jisung spluttered, tossing the ripped corner off the side of the desk. Hyunjin rolled his eyes, picking the scrap up and shoving it into his friend's hand.

"Don't litter. Anyway, maybe she could do with some company."

"You have no clue about what kind of person she is, Hyunjin. Maybe she's just going through something."

"Sung, come on. How would you feel if everyone at school ignored you and you were a complete loner?"

"Well, first of all, I am a totally sick person, so that would never even happen in the first place-"

"Jisung."

"Oh, okay, fine," he threw his hands up. "Just keep talking to her and being nice and whatnot. See if she opens up or starts talking. Step up. I'm just worried about you getting caught up in something you don't understand."

Hyunjin shook his head vehemently. "I won't get caught up in anything. I promise."

Jisung huffed, twirling his pen. "Yeah, okay, we'll see. Now, let me copy your worksheet answers. I've already had five detentions this week."

taglist (open) : @kozumesphone

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

hihi can i request 66 w/ Jisung? Kind like crack were you are both dead sick or smth? anyway have a great day/sleep (๑>◡<๑) ur write is to die for btw

— anon 🐣📎

hihi yes you can~ sorry this took a while to post lol, lots of wips. aww thank you, giggling n kicking my feet rn <3 here you gooooo my little chick paperclip anon lol

hot soup - sick bf!han jisung x sick!reader

pairing: sick bf!han jisung x sick!reader

summary: you're suffering with jisung through a cold (that he gave to you)

genre: fluffy to the max, idol! au, this is honestly just crack, sick lil jisungie and reader

a/n: han would be the type of make funny noises when his nose is bunged up don't even try to change my mind

"You do it."

"No, you."

"I did it last time."

Jisung groans and heaves himself upright, tissues falling off the sofa like a mini avalanche. He sluggishly gets up and drags himself to the coffee table for the remote control, pressing the select button to play the next episode of the kdrama you're both watching.

He sniffs and flops back down on the couch next to you, groaning as the intro begins to play for the umpteenth time. "Y/n?"

His nose is bunged up so it sounds funny when he talks, and your voice is no better as you respond. "Mmm.."

"I'm hungry."

You whine and roll over, burying your face in the blanket. Jisung adjusts himself so you're lying on his chest, cuddled in each others' arms. Blankets swamp both of your bodies, so that if anyone were to look at both of you, they would see just a large lump of fabric. A very sniffly, sick, snotty lump of fabric at that.

You groan and let out an ungraceful sneeze, almost projecting yourself off the sofa. Jisung closes his eyes, mildly put out.

"I don't wanna get up," you sigh, burying your face back in his chest. He smells warm, the skin radiating feverish heat through the material of his hoodie, and the faint, spiced smell of vapour rub hangs distinctly in the air. Not that it seems to be helping. "But I'm hungry as well. What should we make?"

Jisung doesn't even have to open his mouth before you both agree on soup. There's a large pot in the fridge, courtesy of a disgusted Minho, who packed a bag and refused to return to the dorm until both of you were better.

The pot is about half full- you lift it with almost shaky arms and place it on the stove, switching on the heat. Jisung stands beside you as you begin to stir, watching how the chicken shreds and green onions spin in a mesmerising circle. Little oil bubbles rest on the top of the liquid, simmering deliciously as the soup heats up, and by the time it's ready, both of you are salivating.

You ladle half of the pot into each bowl and hand one to Jisung, who reaches into a drawer for a pair of chopsticks. You pause and watch as he sleepily dips them into the soup, clearly too dazed and ill-ridden to understand his amusing actions.

"Sungie," you croak, trying not to laugh. "It's soup."

"Mhm.."

"No," you correct him, "You can't eat soup with chopsticks..."

He blinks, once. Then twice. And then, very slowly, he adjusts his grip on the chopsticks and continue dipping them into the soup, bringing them to his mouth to lick off what little broth remains on the utensils.

You sigh and bring a spoonful of the hot, nourishing liquid to your mouth and groan as its warmth saturates the inside of your mouth, instantly comforting. You'll have to remember to thank Minho later, and maybe ask for the soup recipe too, so you can make it when you're not feeling so sick in the future.

You climb with some difficulty onto the counter and continue ladling the soup into your mouth while Jisung stands, sock-footed on the tiles, sluggishly licking broth off his chopsticks. You tilt your head at him.

"I still don't understand why you're doing that," you say quietly, letting the steam from your bowl soothe the congestion in your sinuses.

"Because," Jisung croaks. "My throat hurts and swallowing feels icky to me."

"That soup will be ice cold by the time you finally get to the bottom of it. That is, if you even make it that far. Go to sleep."

He whines and sets the bowl down, taking a plate from the dishrack to cover it. "You're telling me to sleep as if you don't look like a walking zombie yourself..."

You huff and kick him lightly in the stomach, swinging your legs off the counter. "I wouldn't be a walking zombie if you didn't get me sick in the first place, Sung."

"It wasn't my fault-"

"Yes it was," you croak, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You kept me here all night cuddling without telling me you were sick."

He pouts. "But I wanted to be with you."

"So you purposely got me sick, is what you're saying."

Jisung looks away, a tired smirk making its way onto his features. "I just wanted to spend some time with my beautiful walking zombie baby. Can you blame me?"

You throw your spoon at him. "Han Jisung."

He ducks just in time, the spoon clattering to the floor. "Okay, okay, relax. I didn't know apocalyptic monsters were so temperamental..."

"Shut up and finish your soup."

"Okay, sorry."

a/n: i want soup so bad rn

minty - bf!han jisung x female reader

pairing: han jisung x female reader

summary: when everything bursts into flames, there will always be someone to put it out.

genre: fluff, idol! au, heavy on the angst, panic attack, sensory overload, anger outburst out of frustration, negative thoughts, inferiority complex, feeling left behind. this one is a little sadder, not my usual writing, so read ahead at your own risk.

a/n: kinda having a bad time rn so i wrote this. also my masterlist just deadass stopped working so i have to remake it TT new masterlist will be up soon don't panic guys

You're laying on the floor face-down when Jisung comes home from the company.

He enters your shared bedroom, humming a new unreleased track, and finds you near to the floor-to-ceiling window, curled up in a ball. Your jacket is tossed somewhere behind you and you're not even aware that Jisung is home until he bends down and taps your shoulder.

"Jagi," he says, smiling in greeting.

You don't turn. Your head feels like it's made of lead and you can't seem to find the energy to even twitch a finger. And you feel bad because you know Jisung is tired too, and here you are, ignoring him because you're selfish and lazy and not good enough for anything-

"Y/n," Jisung says again, a little softer.

You do turn your head then. It's not much of a turn, to be honest; more like a slow, sluggish effort to move your head to the right. Your look over your shoulder and he's sitting there, knees to his chest, smiling down at you.

His headphones are slung around his neck as per usual, the headphone cord wrapped loosely around his wrist. His blue hair is flopping attractively into his eyes and the neckline of his band shirt slips a little to the left, revealing a sliver of collarbone.

Some of the skin there is slightly red, and you know it's because he probably worked out his shoulders and torso before coming back home.

You feel even worse at the thought of him working out; why can't you be the same? Why can't you just get up and be productive and multitask and live a good life and be happy like everyone else? Like him? Was that sort of thing not meant for you? Success and friendships and contentment and normalcy?

Because here is Jisung, so many achievements under his belt, so many talents and aspirations and thoughts and dreams, and there you are behind him, struggling to keep up with even the simplest of tasks in your own life.

And it's not just him; lately it feels like everyone else is sprinting ahead, while you're lagging behind, confused. Winded. Out of breath.

Losing energy.

It feels the same even now. Usually making eye contact and being close to Jisung fills you with strength, but today it seems even he can't wash away your thoughts. You wonder how bad it can be if even Jisung, your number one supporter, can't seem to even slightly unclasp the boulder shackles from around your ankles.

And the yet-again nagging thought of always being left behind culminates the peak of your bottled desperation.

And everything is Wrong.

The floor feels rough and uncomfortable all of a sudden, grating against your skin, scratching at the pores, and your clothes are too tight and restricting, digging into the soft curves and peaks of your figure, tightening around you like a python winds about its prey.

Jisung is still sitting there next to you; he must have realised you didn't feel like talking. He's staring out the window, still singing softly to the track, gaze unfocused but content. He understands; he has days like yours too. But right now it feels different, and suddenly you want nothing more than for him to just leave. To just go.

And that thought makes you feel awful.

You feel all hot and irritated like you've been put into an oven on high heat, and you rake a hand through the limp strands of your hair, the tickling flyaways suddenly causing a sudden surge of boiling hot frustration to pour through your veins.

Everything goes up in flames and before you know it, you're shoving Jisung's hand away and storming into the living room, throwing yourself down on the couch and then violently tossing yourself about because even touching the couch feels Wrong too. The leather sticks to your skin and the shuffling sounds are too noisy and sound more like nails being dragged down a chalkboard.

You let out a half-hearted scream and even that feels pathetic. Like you've tried to blow a whistle and all that came out was a sad little wheeze. The noise floats into the air and absorbs into the stillness. You want to scream again but it won't help; no matter how much noise you make, it will never be enough to quiet the wildfires searing across your nerves and seemingly into the core of your brain.

But the flames begin to sizzle, and like all fires do, it begins to die down.

You're left in the smoldering aftermath; the human form of it, anyway, which consists of sobbing like a child face-down in the couch, your body draped uncomfortably across the lounge.

It's almost an hour before Jisung tiptoes into the living room; he peeks over the back of the couch before cautiously moving to sit in front of you, about a metre away. And it's not that he's afraid of your sudden outburst, no, not at all. He knows not to touch you for now, to keep a distance, so as not to trigger you further.

He's silent for a moment; you miserably raise your head, a picture of defeat, eyes puffy and red with tears. You sniff and scrub at your face, wanting to get rid of the Feeling, the one that makes your jaw feel all sour and your head dizzy, the way it always feels after you cry.

Jisung chides you softly, gently reaching out to smooth a singular finger over the irritation you've caused across the delicate skin of your cheekbones. He's testing the water, so when nothing bursts out to bite his hand off, and the temperature seems reasonably cool, he moves just a little closer and gently pats your shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he says softly, almost inaudibly.

"Everything," you sob, the sound causing a terrible racking pain through Jisung's chest. It sounds so hollow, so lonely and desperate.

And yet so filled with hope, but hope that is slowly dying, losing its intensity, like you know in your heart that utilizing it won't really help anything. At least not anymore.

You don't expect Jisung to understand. How could he ever, when the terrible, tumultuous storm of horrible thoughts and feelings in your head is making it hard to understand yourself in the first place?

And you're right. Jisung doesn't understand. He looks bewildered but also empathetic. He looks the way people look when they sort of expect something to happen but it still shocks them when it does.

So he sits, not understanding but also knowing, and strokes your shoulder, keeping the rhythm of it, smooth and constant and flowing, dousing the flames, ever so slowly.

And you can't even try to explain how you feel, or what's wrong, and you can't even find it in yourself to apologise for so violently bursting out at him, but the look in Jisung's eyes tell you that no words are necessary. Not from you anyway.

"I love you," he says quietly after a while, still soft, still a little bit bewildered. But there is no doubt in his words.

And a weak, watery smile manages to tug at the corners of your mouth. At least you think it does; in reality, your face doesn't move an inch, still drawn tensely in rife and despair. But something in your eyes shifts slightly and Jisung knows you well enough to know what that shift means.

The searing flames die down completely, the ash rising and dissipating into a quiet, still, air, and when Jisung draws his hand back, his fingers are stained in still-warm charcoal.

You look at him, still heaving and exhausted; he smiles a tiny bit, like he's not sure whether it might set you off again or make you feel worse. But he does anyway, and the air begins to feel a lot cooler around you as he speaks.

"I brought you something from the company," he whispers, his fingers dancing along the thick seams of the leather couch.

You blink once, slowly, the movement taking a ridiculous amount of energy, which has dwindled to its last stores.

Jisung smiles, almost uncharacteristically shyly, and draws a little rectangular tin out of his dark, worn jeans. He lifts it to your eye level and holds it out on his palm.

On closer inspection, you see it's a little container, the plastic dyed a cool blue-green. There's a small flap on the top for flicking open and dispensing what looks like little sweets.

"Peppermints," Jisung says softly, a little shyly. "They help me when I feel all shaky and irritable. Chan-hyung keeps a pack in his bag for me too, just in case I start feeling anxious at events or concerts... maybe it'll help you too."

You sniff and let him put one of the mints on your palm. You lift it to your mouth and the sensation is immediately refreshing, a growing, almost cool-burn that seems to ease the aching tension that's set itself into your muscles.

It tastes slightly salty from the sweat on your palms, but it disappears as you roll it over your tongue. You exhale a tense breath you didn't know you'd been holding.

You blink again, even slower, hoping that Jisung knows it means thankyou. And he seems to understand, because he tips the container up a little, taking one of the mints himself with a grin.

a/n: hello yes i would like to order one jisung please

lonely st. ✧ masterlist (hyunjin x reader)

summary : Y/n has been struggling with depression for months, but the isolation she feels at school makes it feel even worse. It’s relentless, and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t escape the constant whispers, taunts, and loneliness. But then there’s Hyunjin—her curious classmate and a popular figure at school. Slowly, he begins to see the pain behind Y/n's eyes. With the help of his best friend, Han, Hyunjin offers Y/n something she didn’t know she needed: a lifeline.

warnings : depression, all characters are of high-school age, loneliness, bullying, school!au, mentions of injuries, literally nothing is proofread, more warnings will be added as chapters are released ! see the warnings at the top of each chapter for more information .

chapter i : invisible

chapter ii : the first glimpse

chapter iii : the walls

chapter iv : falling

chapter v : behind closed doors

chapter vi : broken mirrors

chapter vii : the people who care

chapter viii : the breaking point

chapter ix : healing

season finale - chapter x : a new dawn

a/n: guys i actually thought this one out

lonely st. ✧ chapter i : invisible

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)

warnings: lonely reader, school!au, hyunjin is a basketballer, hinting to depression, anxiety, and isolation, some girls are mean to y/n

a/n: starting a new series. hopefully this goes well :/

series masterlist | skz masterlist

One.

Two.

Three.

Y/n carefully stepped over the cracks in the pavement, feet twisting and turning between each crack in the cement with a precise, unbroken focus. The air was cool, charged; it had been raining earlier, and the earth was covered in a light, sprinkled-wet sheen, the smell of petrichor hanging in the air.

Y/n kicked up leaves as she went, dodging the little puddles and breathing in the scent of the trees. It made her feel at least a little bit more alive; a lot more alive than she'd been feeling for a long time.

Y/n slowed to a walk, her momentary happiness fading. Viciously kicking aside a wet leaf into a murky puddle, she walked onwards, trudging a little slower than she had before. Her face set itself in a neutral, unremarkable expression.

She narrowly dodged a group of teen boys loitering outside the school gates, their ties and shirts untucked and undone; Y/n huffed ruefully as a rather disciplinary teacher stormed past her, scattering the boys and handing out detentions for uniform misconduct. Her shoulders relaxed a tiny bit; she never wore her uniform wrong, but the fear of being somehow caught out always shook her.

Stepping into the school and wiping her shoes rather unenthusiastically on the large mat, Y/n headed to her locker, weaving past huddles of girls and students running down the hallways. The corridors were rife with laughing and shouting, and Y/n found herself wondering how such energy could be mustered at the raw hour of a nine o'clock Monday morning.

Narrowly dodging a flying basketball without so much as blinking, Y/n opened her locker, mechanically depositing her books into the rack and taking her books for the first few classes of the morning. Every action felt forced and mundane, her muscles aching for no particular reason. A pretty, feminine voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Y/n, hey!"

Y/n turned, shutting her locker, slipping the lock back on. She looked up as her friend, Yeji, waved from a short distance away, her sleek, dark hair impeccably styled. As always.

Leaning on her shoulder, Yeji grinned, poking Y/n's cheek just as Ha-eun walked up, clutching a book to her chest with the poise of a ballerina.

"How was your weekend~?" Yeji drawled playfully, sagging onto Y/n. She caught a whiff of her friend's perfume; fruity and light. Yeji had always insisted it was the best scent, especially for 'attracting guys', but Y/n didn't have the heart to tell her she smelt more like a vape.

"It was good," she said monotonely.

Ha-eun tilted her head, brown hair plaited back neatly into a ponytail. Her voice was soft.

"Surely you must have done something, Y/n."

"Yeah," Yeji added.

Y/n shook her head, stepping out from Yeji's leaning. She turned to face both her friends, straightening her dark blazer.

A burst of excited chattering rose from behind them, and Yeji and Ha-eun immediately turned their heads, smiles lighting up on their face.

Sangmi.

The most popular girl in the grade; pretty, smart, helpful, a teacher's dream student. Pretty much everyone knew her.

They all love her too, Y/n thought guiltily. She quite liked Sangmi; she was kind, and a lot of fun to be around, but Y/n couldn't help the howling envy within her heart.

She was just so normal.

Sangmi joined the group, chattering excitedly and sharing her weekend adventures she'd shared with her mom; going to a cafe together, and then later getting their nails done; she'd gone out with a group of girls and studied with them the following day.

Y/n couldn't help the bubble of jealousy that rose up within her and she muttered a halfhearted excuse to Ha-eun before walking away.

Turning a corner, she ran directly into someone, who dropped their books. Apologising, she bent down and began picking them up. Brushing off the cover of a textbook, she looked up at the person.

The boy blinked back at her, slitted, dark eyes, long hair falling into his eyes, a pretty shade of dark brown. He was kind of cute, and Y/n knew who he was, though she couldn't put a name to the face.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

The boy shook his head vehemently, smiling as he took the textbook from her. His voice was velvety.

"My bad. Should have seen where I was going."

Y/n nodded politely and moved past him, walking a little faster to her form class.

Tap tap tap tap tap-

Y/n's pencil drummed against her knuckles; staring out the window, she sighed tiredly and glanced down at her notes. The teacher had been going on for about half an hour now with no sign of stopping.

Her mind absentmindedly drifted back to the boy she'd bumped into earlier, recalling his features. He seemed quite happy, and bright. She'd seen him playing basketball a few times on the courts, always smiling and high-fiving his teammates. She was pretty sure he was on the school team too. Dully wishing she could come across as enthusiastic as he did, Y/n sighed again.

"Alright, everyone," her teacher called. "Get into groups of four, and start working through the questions in chapter three."

Y/n looked to Yeji expectantly just as her friend glanced back at her apologetically, already settling into a group with Sangmi, Ha-eun, and Aeri, another girl from their friend group. A mild feeling of hurt settled into Y/n's gut, replaced by a feeling of panic.

Glancing across the classroom, she stiffly got up and sat with a pair of girls. The popular type, too; their hair was dyed harshly, their lash extensions fluttering, and jaws smacking with gum. Y/n coiled back a tiny bit, the irritating sound ticking her off.

One of the blonde girls whined. "Can't you group with someone else?"

The other nodded dumbly, her mismatched, caked-on foundation crinkling as she frowned at Y/n.

"Um, I can't. Sorry," she finished quietly. "There's no one else to group with."

The two girls glanced at each other. Y/n heard a whisper of 'outcast' and fought the nausea rising in her gut.

Someone sat down next to her, stretching out forearms across the desk. Y/n blinked in surprise. It was the boy she'd run into earlier.

"Don't be mean," he quipped playfully at them. "She can work with us."

"Sorry, Hyunjin," one of the girls pouted. Y/n fought the new urge to throw up at their fake cuteness act.

It came as no surprise; Hwang Hyunjin was one of the most popular boys in the school. Young, handsome, talented, popular; he was the envy of many of the boys in the grade. Most of the girls liked him too, even popular, pretty Sangmi quietly admitting to her once that she thought Hyunjin was kind of cute.

Not that Y/n wholeheartedly disagreed. But she didn't agree that much either. Popular, sporty boys were always trouble.

The trouble spoke. "Y/n, can I borrow a pen, please? I kinda forgot my stuff."

Y/n blinked at him, expression betraying a hint of disapproval. "Do you just show up to classes with no stuff?"

Hyunjin chuckled, unfazed. "Yep."

Sighing, Y/n reached into the pocket of her blazer and drew out a ballpoint, handing it to him. The two blonde girls gazed on disapprovingly, glaring jealously at Y/n, who ignored it.

Hyunjin just smiled to himself and began dividing up the classwork.

The bell went off with a abrasive, repetitive ringing. The students began packing up noisily, chattering and laughing, some with their stuff already eagerly packed and ready to go.

Y/n handed her portion of the group project to her teacher, thanking him quietly before moving back to her desk and slipping her pens back into her case. The two blonde girls whispered and side-eyed her as they passed, one of them bumping her shoulder roughly as they left.

The lesson had gone smoothly enough, except for the fact that most of the class's eyes had been on her.

Mainly because of Hyunjin.

He kept asking for help, asking how to spell words, asking how to explain this and that on the worksheet, and when Y/n had rather grumpily quipped him for his inquiries, he had responded with a cheeky smile and an honest answer.

Because you're really smart, Y/n!

I'm not really, she thought to herself self-deprecatingly. Sangmi and Ha-eun are far smarter than I am.

"Hey, Y/n."

Y/n looked up, slipping her case inside her bag. Hyunjin stood in front of her, his tie slightly undone, eyes crinkled with that smile that somehow permanently graced his angelic features.

She responded so quietly she was sure he wouldn't hear. "Yeah?"

Hyunjin tilted his head. "Is it okay if I keep this pen for my next few classes? I'll give it back, I promise."

Y/n's gaze flitted to his long, slender hand, the ballpoint held elegantly between them. She narrowed her eyes, sighing.

"Fine, but don't lose it."

Hyunjin nodded eagerly before turning away with a quick smile.

"Kay. I won't. See you later!"

Y/n let out a tiny 'bye' in response, hauling her bag onto her shoulder.

Hyunjin walked casually down the hallway, effortlessly slipping between throngs of students with ease. His hands were shoved in his pockets, Y/n's pen clutched between his slender figures as he moved to enter his next class. He was surprised she'd let him borrow it; most people thought she was quite intense and cold, some thought her rather mean. Hyunjin thought she was probably just lonely.

Something like that, he thought. A hint of empathy twinged at his heartstrings. Nevertheless, he was quite pleased with himself; the lie about 'forgetting all of his stuff' had somehow unbelievably fooled her.

One slender hand came down, tucking his pencil case deeper into his bag.

He couldn't believe the lie had worked.

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