Pretty Similar I Think... Thanks For The Tag @its-stayville-forever . . .

send this to all your favorite moots and pass the pumpkin round! KEEP THE PUMPKIN TRAIN GOING 🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃 (JJ from @justsomekpopstuff )

done ✨🖤

yang jeongin - skz fluff headcanons

pairing: yang jeongin x reader

summary: innie headcanons

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

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

skz masterlist

so

you're dating jeongin

congratulations

he's a little shit

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

which is cute

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

just that partner lovey dovey stuff you know

but wait til both of you get closer

the relationship will just descend into chaos

and if you were friends with him before you started dating

that chaos will be even worse

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

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

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

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

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

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

like if you have to go through a door

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

which has resulted in several injuries

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

and he went through a door and slammed it

because he's a little shit

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

as the door was closing too

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

all in all, jeongin learned to not do that anymore

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

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

anyway

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

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

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

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

or holding your pinky instead of your whole hand

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

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

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

he likes soft, purposeful affection in small doses

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

obviously not verbally because our maknae is too cool for that

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

please he's literally a fox

protect him at all costs :(

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

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

"JEONGIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING"

"i wanna look like hyunjin hyung :("

either that or he's dying it

or drawing all over himself

or eating things he shouldn't

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

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

just in case

anyway

we know innie is also our fashion king

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

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

so he settles for other matching things like hoodies

and necklaces!!!

lots of matching necklaces!!

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

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

aww

you guys also have those matching magnetic socks

you know those ones

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

yeah those

google it if you don't know

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

hidden under your dress of course

and his hidden under his suit

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

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

but he always puts it back on afterwards anyway

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

they've given up at this point

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

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

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

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

jeongin also manages to rope seungmin and minho into it too

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

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

for now anyways

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

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

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

but you're not allowed to style it

that's law

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

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

which is cute

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

so so much

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

he makes sure that you never doubt he loves you

so

you're dating jeongin

congratulations

he's a little shit

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

which is cute

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

just that partner lovey dovey stuff you know

but wait til both of you get closer

the relationship will just descend into chaos

and if you were friends with him before you started dating

that chaos will be even worse

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

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

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

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

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

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

like if you have to go through a door

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

which has resulted in several injuries

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

and he went through a door and slammed it

because he's a little shit

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

as the door was closing too

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

all in all, jeongin learned to not do that anymore

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

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

anyway

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

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

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

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

or holding your pinky instead of your whole hand

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

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

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

he likes soft, purposeful affection in small doses

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

obviously not verbally because our maknae is too cool for that

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

please he's literally a fox

protect him at all costs :(

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

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

"JEONGIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING"

"i wanna look like hyunjin hyung :("

either that or he's dying it

or drawing all over himself

or eating things he shouldn't

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

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

just in case

anyway

we know innie is also our fashion king

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

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

so he settles for other matching things like hoodies

and necklaces!!!

lots of matching necklaces!!

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

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

aww

you guys also have those matching magnetic socks

you know those ones

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

yeah those

google it if you don't know

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

hidden under your dress of course

and his hidden under his suit

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

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

but he always puts it back on afterwards anyway

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

they've given up at this point

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

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

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

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

jeongin also manages to rope seungmin and minho into it too

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

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

for now anyways

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

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

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

but you're not allowed to style it

that's law

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

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

which is cute

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

so so much

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

he makes sure that you never doubt he loves you

a/n: divider by @cafekitsune

hello~ i dont usually read reader x idol as parents but today i got to see the most beautiful kid in a karate exam and it got me thinking about changbin and reader as parents watching and cheering for their little son in a exam/championship in any sports, with him getting a medal (even tho i think changbin's son would combine perfectly in a martial fighting like karate or jiu jitsu) 🤗

awww, that's cute >< sorry for the wait !

little fighter - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

summary: you and changbin are watching your son compete at a championship

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, crack, reader and changbin are married, reader and changbin's son does karate, sweat (does that need a warning??)

a/n: divider by @anitalenia

The atmosphere was electric, buzzing with excitement and the scent of polished wood floors mixed with the faint aroma of sweat. Rows upon rows of spectators filled the bleachers, but all eyes were on the mat where several young competitors were busy showcasing their skills.

Changbin sat beside you, his fingers interlaced with yours, the nervous energy radiating from him evident.

“Look at him go!” Changbin exclaimed, his loud, exuberant voice rising above the cheers. Your son, clad in a crisp, white karate gi, looked focused and determined, moving with the grace of someone far beyond his years. Every one of his punches and kicks echoed with the outcome of his hard work and dedication over the years. He stumbled a little suddenly against his opponent, but quickly brought himself upright in time to parry a block. You and Changbin cheered so loud the people in front of you cover their ears (half in annoyance.

“Come on, buddy! You’ve got this!” you shouted, your heart swelling with pride. The adrenaline pulsed through your veins as you saw him land a perfect roundhouse kick, earning an impressive round of applause from the crowd spectating the event.

As the championship progressed, you and Changbin exchanged glances filled with excitement and encouragement. With each passing round, your son fought fiercely, his passion shining through every move. The moment he reached the final match, you both stood up, clapping and cheering louder than before.

“Just a little more!” Changbin urged, his voice thick with emotion. Chancing a quick glance at your husband's hands, you saw that his palms were red. They must have been buzzing with the force of his clapping. Your hands were the same, but both of you paid it no mind.

The match was difficult, both your son and his opponent stumbling more than once, but with one final, slightly clumsy strike, your son defeated his opponent. The referee raised his hand in victory, and the crowd erupted into cheers. Your heart raced as you rushed to the mat, wrapping your arms around your sweaty, panting son as he beamed with joy.

“You did it!” you cried, holding him tightly.

Changbin joined in, lifting your son high into the air. “That was amazing! We’re so proud of you!”

Moments later, he received his medal, its gleam reflecting the pride in his eyes. You both knelt down, beaming with joy as he clutched the shiny plate.

“This is just the beginning, kiddo!” Changbin said, ruffling his hair affectionately.

Your son smiled so hard you thought his face would split in half. Changbin was still ruffling his hair, a thin sheen of the perspiration coating his hand. You wrinkle your nose and laugh. Your son does too, taking your hand as you all walk off the mats. He jumped about and talked excitedly, reenacting moves and kicks.

Changbin grinned, subtly wiping his now sweaty hand discreetly onto the hem of your top.

a/n: YALL I FORGOT THE HEADER, I JUST ADDED IT TO THE FIC TT

THE THEME OMG IT’S EATINGGGG

omg thank you so much, i decided to change it again after a while... changed my user too bc i felt like it was getting old lol

i like the fact that our themes are literally opposites too hahah

how you been?

outfit - yang jeongin

pairing: yang jeongin x reader

summary: you help jeongin choose his outfit of the day

genre: non-idol! au, lil bit of crack, just chill tbh

a/n: no one say anything about the hasty shoe choices in this fic

"How about these? Which one?"

Jeongin holds up a pair of denim jeans and a pair of baggy, black cargo shorts. He grins as you pull an overexaggerated thinking face. The bedroom is disheveled, every surface (including the floor) strewn with heaps of clothing articles and accessories.

You and Jeongin are in various stages of undress, trying on different outfits and mixing-and-matching each other's belongings. You're dressed in your own pair of shorts and one of Jeongin's ridiculously oversized hoodies, the sleeves going about twenty centimetres past your fingertips (though he is pretty tall in comparison to you, to be fair).

Jeongin's in a white t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, one of your favourite lace-tipped socks on his left foot and a thick, black sock on the other. He's been messing around all morning, trying to style outfits, and you'd been roped into it.

Not that you minded.

Jeongin pouts as you suddenly snatch the pair of denim jeans, tossing them somewhere onto the floor.

"Aw, why not the denim?"

You snicker. "You look too much like Felix. He's always wearing denim."

"Not like anyone can tell the difference," he rolls his eyes and drops to his knees, digging around. You know he's talking about Changbin. Jeongin lets out a triumphant "a-ha" as his hand resurfaces holding a crossbody bag, checkered in black and white. You grin just as he fastens it around his waist. He looks ridiculous. Mainly because of the pretty, girly sock on his foot. That, and his shorts don't match.

"Innie, take the sock off, and put this on," you hand him a pair of long black shorts to him and he groans.

"I've changed bottoms almost a hundred times-"

"You're the one who dragged me into doing this in the first place. Don't complain."

He whines but puts the shorts on. You glance at his feet pointedly and he very reluctantly takes both mismatched socks off, replacing them with a pair of white Nike socks. The whole outfit looks a lot more coordinated now.

"That looks a lot better, Innie."

"Do you think so? It's still missing something."

"Shoes, pabo."

"Oh, right!"

Jeongin disappears into the hallway, and you can hear him padding to the shoe cupboard. A loud bang follows, and a couple of thumps. There's several minutes of faint scuffling, and Jeongin scurries back into the room, breathless but holding a suitable pair of black sneakers.

You roll your eyes. "Did you make a mess?"

He looks away pointedly, hurriedly. "Just- fixed some things."

You sigh, not even remotely surprised, and wait as he slips the sneakers on, haphazardly tying the laces. He straightens and runs a hand through his hair, glancing at you expectantly.

You laugh. "It looks great."

"Does it?"

You nod, moving to pick items of clothing up off the floor. You're stopped suddenly and pushed back onto the bed, the oversized hoodie sleeves flapping as you fight to rebalance. You huff up at Jeongin with a confused, slightly haughty expression.

"What are you doing?"

Jeongin grins. "My turn to pick your outfit."

"No!"

a/n: innie's such a style icon

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

snake - yang jeongin

pairing: yang jeongin x reader

summary: you come home to jeongin after a long, exhausting day

genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort, soft innie, reader had a tough day, the snakes are just a metaphor i promise

a/n: this is super rushed. divider by @atsubie

You trudge down the pavement, brushing past pedestrians and groups of chattering students. A man with his phone to his ear shoves roughly past you and you sway where you're standing, a feeling of hopelessness settling into your stomach like a dark, writhing snake.

These past few weeks have been horrible.

First, one of your close friends at work told you that some of the other coworkers have been spreading nasty rumours about you. You spilled your drink this morning on the way to the building and had to run back and change quickly.

Then when you did show up, your boss shouted at you for being tardy in front of your entire division. You elected to work a couple more hours as compensation, and Jeongin is actually at home for once instead of at the company, so you missed out on an evening with him.

You had texted him earlier in the day, saying that you couldn't come home, and he'd called you. He hadn't minded, his tone casual and slightly teasing as per normal, but you knew him well enough to know he was disappointed at not getting to finally spend some time together.

The coiling snake of guilt, shame, and exhaustion in your stomach has been writhing all week long, and honestly, you're just fed up. Pressing a hand to your midriff, you sigh and pick up the pace, weaving between people, muttering sorry and my bad without so much as a second glance.

You shove the door open and run directly into Jeongin with an oof. His hoodie pillows your face in a refreshing wave of fading cologne and fresh linen. You groan and stand there, sagging into him, the door still flung open in the wake of your frustration.

Jeongin blinks down at you, seemingly unsurprised. He wraps his long, firm arms around you, letting you lean against his chest. It's so warm and so comforting it brings tears to your eyes.

"Hi," he murmurs. "Long day?"

You nod mutely, face still shoved into his hoodie.

Jeongin chuckles, picking you up with little effort and carrying you over to the couch. There's a movie playing. He must have been watching it while waiting for you to come home, and your heart twinges guiltily for having made him wait.

"Innie," you whisper tiredly. "It's so late, why aren't you asleep?"

He's kneeling in front of you, gently undoing the buttons of your shirt so you can breathe, then slipping off your socks and shoes. The look of caring focus on his face doesn't go unnoticed in your current overemotional state. When he finally speaks, Jeongin's voice is soft, gentle, firm.

"You know I can't sleep without you, and I didn't want you coming home to silence."

You nod, unable to do anything.

"Besides," he continues, "You always wait up for me, even when I spend hours and hours at the company for dance practices."

He moves to sit beside you, tugging you gently into a side hug, the solidness of his chest against your chest a comforting anchor. You sit like that for a while, the movie muted and faint in the background.

Jeongin's presence is so warm, so comforting, that all you can do is close tired, strained eyes and lean into him further, inhaling his scent, relishing the solid weight of his arm around you. The burden finally lifts and the sharp, dull tension behind your eyes begins to dissolve, leaving you feel more relaxed and cosy than you've felt in a long time.

The coiling snake in your gut settles and disappears.

a/n: no snakes were harmed in the making of this fic

galaxy - lee felix

pairing: lee felix x reader

summary: your boyfriend comes home to your cooking.

genre: fluff, idol! au, just sweet lixie

a/n: first fic! everyone cheer! *awkward silence*

You curse as you clumsily scatter sprinkles of cheese on the floor for the fifth time. It's taken half an hour just to prepare all the ingredients, and Felix is going to be back from the company any minute. A cheesy, almost spicy aroma floats around your apartment kitchen, mixing with the cold, crisp night air from the half-open window.

It rained earlier this evening. You think about how Felix must have sat at his desk, working away at lyrics and music with the other members. How he must have heard the rain and moved to the window, mouth tilting upwards as he watched the scattered, crystal raindrops thud heavily against the glass pane. You do the same thing now, wistfully staring out into the night, hair ruffling with the slight breeze.

You don't even realise you're smiling at the thought of it.

The earthy smell of petrichor floats into the kitchen as you move back to the stove, gently stirring the pot. It bubbles and sizzles, a fresh wave of the mouthwatering smell hitting you full in the face. Sure, it might look a little strange (maybe it's burnt...) but you know Felix will love it anyway. He always does.

He usually does the cooking most of the time, knowing your haphazard tendencies to drop things and clumsily hurt yourself. He would much rather cook than risk you getting hurt any day. The thought of his tenderness makes you smile again, and you're so lost in thought that you don't hear the faint sound of the door opening with a click. It's accompanied by the sound of Felix's usual sneakers, his favourite pair. He steps in quietly, careful not to trail water inside.

He peeks around the kitchen wall, watching you with a cheeky, loving smile on his face. You're bathed in golden light from the overhead lighting, casting an amber glow over your body and the various pots and pans scattering the stove. To anyone else, it might look like a mess, but to Felix, it's the equivalent of an angel standing in his kitchen, haloed by a wash of honey light.

He clumsily toes off his sneakers and socks, eyes fixed on your frame. You're still lost in thought, the bubbling of the pot causing enough of a distraction that you don't realise Felix creeping up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist, making you drop the spoon. You twist in his grip, surprised and more than delighted to see him.

"Lixie! You're back!" You beam, and Felix's heart melts. His arms subconsciously tighten around your waist. When he speaks, his voice is deep and molten, flowing like water.

"Hey, sunshine. I missed you," he peeks at the pot over your shoulder, crinkling his nose as he smiles. "Whatcha cooking?"

A half-hearted, slightly awkward laugh leaves your lips. You look back at the pot, hand coming up to absentmindedly scratch at his blonde, pinfeather-like hair as you think. Your earlier haze of determination to cook something for your boyfriend had faded about half and hour ago, your rationality returning from its brief holiday.

"I'm not actually sure... um-"

He laughs, the sound swelling and filling the kitchen. It floats out into the night, rich and lilting. You think for a second that his laugh might mingle with the stars, creating unique galaxies and constellations that match the ones in his eyes perfectly. Twisting your head back, you give him a sheepish grin, fingertips lightly touching his freckles, dotted across his cheeks and nose like his very own galaxy. Your galaxy.

Felix kisses your nose. "I appreciate the effort, sunflower. I love you so much, you know that?"

You smile softly. "I love you too, but uh-" You turn back to the pot, which now smells unpleasantly burnt. "Maybe we should just order food instead."

Felix chuckles.

"Definitely."

a/n: how do we feel about this? do you guys want more? if so, go request! it would make my day <3

aww @jisunggy i'm so glad it helped 🥺 requests are open if you'd like more <3

cold - han jisung

pairing: han jisung x reader

summary: you had a shit day and jisung helps out

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, heavy on the comfort, angsty, big softie jisung

a/n: if you're having a shit day, feel better <3

You sigh and throw an arm over your forehead, trying to erase the day's memories from mind. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong went wrong, and all you wanted to do the entire day was get out of your restricting day clothes and flop into bed.

Which is exactly what you did, but it didn't help.

Nothing felt right. The bed was too stiff, too soft, your clothes too loose or tight, and the music currently playing through your earbuds was doing nothing to help the situation. The night air filtering through the window was too cold and it wasn't enough to stop you feeling hot. It just wasn't making anything better, and your short temper was beginning to show through.

You had tried the whole day to keep your seething to a minimum, and now that it had been all bottled up for most of the day, you couldn't help but feel upset.

Rolling over, you poke Jisung in the back. He's asleep, his back facing you, and you can hear soft snores coming from him. He had come home and sensed immediately that you needed to be left alone. You hadn't talked to him for the whole evening, and now you were both lying in bed, one awake and the other fast asleep.

Finally managing to stir him, Jisung rolls over in bed, hair sticking up at random angles from the tossing and turning. His eyes were half-opened and he blinked at you, trying to see in the dark. The only light in the bedroom came from your phone, which was now abandoned on the bedside.

You felt bad for waking him up, but Jisung didn't seem to mind.

"What's wrong, jagiya?" he says blearily.

"Sorry, Sung," you whisper guiltily, eyes filling with stinging tears. "Just- I can't sleep."

"Hmm? Oh, why?"

You sigh softly, tossing your earphones onto the bedside and turning to face him, trying not to cry. "Nothing was going right and my temper kept flaring up."

Jisung nods, running a hand through his hair and mussing it up further. "I thought you were mad at me, but I just figured you needed space-"

"No, it wasn't you, it could never be you, I just didn't want to end up blowing up on you. I just needed to cool off but I still feel hot and bothered."

Jisung's already moved to turn up the fan and he lays back down on the bed with a "hmphff", wrapping an arm cozily around your waist.

"You know," he croaks thoughtfully, "When I get frustrated in the studio, Chan-hyung and Minho-hyung always make me go to the bathrooms and splash my face with cold water, and then drink something cold. I always pretend like it's cooling me down. You should try it."

Your voice is quiet. "But it's dark."

"I'll come with you."

You get up softly, moving to the bathroom. Jisung follows a lot less gracefully, and he flicks the light on, both of you immediately groaning at the glaring brightness. You run the tap til it turns cold, and splash your face with cold water. Jisung leans against the counter while you dry your face. He grins, eyes half-closed from the sleepiness.

"You feel better now, huh?"

And he's right. You do feel better.

He takes your hand and guides you to the kitchen, lifting you up onto the counter. You protest quietly but he ignores it, opening the freezer and depositing several ice cubes into a glass of water. He waits while you drink it, and hums softly when you poke his cheek, fingers cold from the condensation on the glass. You both steal a couple snacks and eat in the light of the refrigerator before Jisung lifts you from the counter and carries you back to bed.

Despite the cold face wash and the cold water, as well as the snacks, you can already feel your eyelids drooping. You feel yourself being placed back into bed, and you feel all warm and full and content. Or maybe the warm feeling is just from Jisung's arms, which are wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you close and keeping you in the warmth of his embrace.

You sleep.

a/n: i wish i had a jisung

rose part 2 - lee minho

pairing: lee minho x reader

summary: you and lee minho, the smartest student on campus, get unexpectedly paired up to work on an assignment

genre: less angsty, mutual pining, college!au, happy ending hehe

a/n: yayy part 2. dividers by @kodaswrld

⛓️ prompts: 17. "Why are you looking at me like that?" / 28. "You're looking at me like that again."

skz prompt list | skz masterlist | part 1

The next few days are rather awkward.

You avoid Minho as much as humanly possible; more than once he tries to approach you in the corridors, though unsurely, and you find yourself ducking into the next hallway or stopping to talk to someone so that he won't.

Not that you don't want him to approach. Part of you misses talking to him, though most of what came out of his mouth was teasing remarks and judgmental comments. But he does it in a way that lets you know he doesn't mean it.

You know he doesn't mean it, but after you messed up those few days ago, you're beginning to wonder if he might in the future.

You find yourself glancing his way during lectures, subconsciously reaching for your phone to text him before you take control of yourself and tear your gaze away, shove your phone into a drawer. Keeping distance is the best thing to do right now, even if you do miss him.

But still...

Minho and his pretty necklace, his pretty lopsided smile, although it's rare. But it makes it all the more special. It makes him all the more special.

The part of you yearning to see him wonders if there's a slim chance that he reciprocates what you've begun to find yourself feeling, and it tells you to go and find Minho, talk to him, work things out. Maybe you could play it off, say you were on something, plead that you were tired or that there had just been something on his face.

Which is why you had touched it in the first place, though it was on a whim. You'd stroked those precious few strands out of his eyes, touched his pretty mouth on a whim, your fingers brushing against the perfect mask that Lee Minho never lets slip.

The professor calls your name suddenly and you shoot upright, having previously been slouching on your hand, staring down the rows of lecture seats. He shouts out a question and panic seizes your gut like a vice.

"Y/n, what's the answer to question eight?"

Your eyes flit over the screen at the front; you haven't been listening and none of it makes sense. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, and you feel the gazes of other people becoming more prominent by the minute.

Your gaze catches Minho's by chance; he's sitting at the very front of the lecture hall as per usual, all of his materials lined up meticulously neat on the desks. He mouths an answer to you, subtly holding up three fingers.

"Option three," you blurt out. It must be the right answer because the professor turns away, moving onto the next question. You sag back into your seat with relief.

Minho is still looking at you.

You steal a glance at him again, hoping that he's not looking, but he is. You make to look away in haste but not before you see him point to his notebook, gesturing to you and then back at his book.

Staring down at your own folders and papers, you take your black notebook from under the haphazard mess and flip through it. Minho turns back to the front just as a slip of paper falls from between the pages.

You unfold it. Minho's neat, looping handwriting inks the paper in blue.

Meet me at the library at five o clock.

Absolutely not, you think. You toss the paper onto your desk and lean back. There's no way you're going. You might just come up with an excuse and relay it to someone so you don't have to show up. You look back down at Minho's note. It's fallen the other way and there's writing on the other side. You peer closer.

And don't even think about disappearing or making up an excuse. Come on, Y/n. You're not that busy a person.

You roll your eyes, even though you're smiling. He knows, and the realisation doesn't hit you as hard in the gut as you thought it would have.

Five o clock it is.

☆☆☆

When you enter the library, you know exactly where to go; Minho's usual spot is always the far corner, several long tables and chairs tucked behind the shelves. As someone who spends a lot of time in the library to begin with, you've often seen Minho by himself at one of the long tables, with his knees tucked neatly over one another as he reads, or his head bent in concentration as he studies.

You make your way there now; and sure enough, there he is. He's sitting perfectly upright, his posture immaculate. Your back hurts just thinking about sitting the way he does.

Yet again, the only movement is coming from his wrist as he writes something in his books, just like he did when you were at his dorm. He doesn't look up as you approach, hovering near the table unsurely. Like he's a wild animal to be tamed.

He is a little bit, you think.

"Minho..." You begin hesitantly, if not only to announce your presence.

"Hello, Y/n," he says quietly. He sets his pen down in one movement and looks up at you. Like he doesn't have energy to spare, so he's mindful of every move. "Sit down."

You laugh nervously as you collapse into a chair near him, one seat away from where he is. You are a walking tornado in the pristine museum that is Lee Minho.

"So, what is this, a therapy session?" You tilt your head at him, trying to break this ice. Shit, this is so awkward.

"No," he says again, matter-of-factly. "You've been avoiding me."

"I haven't," you try feebly.

"All you do is lie, Y/n. To yourself too. Stop it."

His comment cuts you unexpectedly.

It hurts even more because he's right. You lied to him and to yourself. You told yourself that avoiding him was the best thing to do. And in addition, suddenly you're irritated and pissed off because of how calm he is.

"Minho."

His tone softens. "Sorry."

You huff and lean back. It feels like when you were a kid, getting into trouble for talking back.

"Why'd you call me here? You've finished your section of the project, so there's no need for us to work together anymore."

Minho shakes his head. "That's not why I asked you here."

You're quiet. Then, "Why?"

"Y/n, I'm not upset about what happened. It seems you are."

He's talking like a fucking therapist, you think. "I didn't mean to touch you like that, it was just on a whim, I was overtired-"

Minho laughs suddenly, his eyes crinkling. It's a surprisingly pleasant sound. "Did you rehearse that excuse?"

You grumble and attempt to wipe the haughty smile off of your face. He's seeing right through you at every turn. "No."

"Well, does being overtired make people want to be close to each other and touch each others' faces?"

You scoff at him, though your heart is pounding. "No. Stop being stupid."

"I'm not stupid. I'm incredibly smart. And I'm right."

"Sure you are, Min."

You freeze. The nickname slips out almost on habit; countless times during the duration of previous project meetings had you called him that purely to irritate him. At first it was a tease. Now it was almost affectionate.

His usual ticked-off reply doesn't come. He looks at you strangely. Then with a slow, deliberate movement, he gets up and sits down in the chair directly next to you. Several of his papers and pens clatter and drift off the table, but he doesn't flinch, nor notice. He doesn't even blink, his gaze entirely, unbrokenly fixed on you.

You gulp.

"I've had a long day," he says calmly. "I missed my lecture this morning because I was studying for my arts exam, and I wasn't able to talk to you these days either, which made it surprisingly worse. I couldn't sleep last night either."

He says all of this with a pure, almost gentle sort of conviction. Like he's a stranger in an elevator, making a polite comment about the weather to fill the silence. It's raining quite hard today. It's predicted sunnier tomorrow, though.

Your throat is dry and it almost hurts to talk. What do you even say to that?

"Okay."

Minho nods solemnly, the ghost of a lopsided grin on his face. His gaze is implicative, almost a smirk. "I happen to be quite overtired at the moment. Do you know what happens when people are overtired, Y/n? I think you do."

Not for the first time in your life do you curse Lee Minho with the eternal role of 'little shit'.

"No," you whisper, unable to speak any louder. "I don't."

"I told you to stop lying."

"I'm not."

He tilts his head a little more. "You are."

You go silent.

Minho's hand comes up to experimentally touch your cheek. You almost flinch at the unexpected gesture but you force yourself to stay still, not wanting to shatter the charged atmosphere. The pads of his fingers are soft and then he draws them back, bringing them to cover his mouth.

He yawns.

He's doing it on purpose now, you think in exasperation. Trying to make me admit that I wasn't overtired at all when I touched him. Even though he already knows what I was doing.

He leans back in his chair, tilting his head to the other side. At this point he's just teasing. He knows exactly what your intentions are. He's playing it up to frustrate you.

Minho brings one hand to his perfect hair and rifles his fingers through it, gaze never leaving you. He messes it up on purpose and you find yourself almost drawn to him, wanting nothing more to reach out and fix it. His gaze is nothing more than an invitation. At least, that's what you're assuming.

You're so close to him, you could just reach out and brush it away like you did those days ago... so you do. It's as soft as you remember, like pinfeathers between your fingertips, and you card it out of his face in gentle, slow motions, not fixing it completely, busy trying your best to ignore his piercing gaze almost burning through yours.

You hesitantly poke his knee, just checking that he's not an apparition and that this is actually happening. It is. And when you look back up, you feel Minho's presence far closer to you than you did before.

This time, when he tilts his head, it is a gentle question. Yes or no?

You nod shakily.

Minho leans in slowly, eyes flitting to yours, checking every step of the way, before his mouth brushes gently against the curve of your cheekbone. Like a bird's wing brushing your face. Colour floods your cheeks and your face burns rosy as his mouth brushes yours briefly, a little clumsy but full of awkward affection, your eyes closing. Minho presses his forehead to yours for a few seconds and then leans back. You open your eyes.

His hair is a royal mess; you suppose your face is a mirror of his expression. His eyes are still fixed on you, the colour high and flushed on his cheeks, mouth parted. You don't think you've ever seen anything, anyone more beautiful.

Minho has the audacity to grin. To grin.

"I think," he breathes shakily, "that I should be overtired more often."

You let out a shaky laugh. "Yes."

"Y/n?"

"Minho."

"Please stop avoiding me," he says softly. "It was lonely."

You stutter out a response, surprised you're still functioning after he just kissed you. "Okay."

Minho brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "You know that assignment we were working on together?"

You blink, surprised at the sudden change of subject, but you go along with it. You'd handed in your parts together several days ago; you'd scraped through with a decent mark, and Minho, of course, scored with his usual A+. "Yes?"

Minho actually laughs then and you know instantly that it's a sound you want to hear him make for the rest of your life. "I knew you would struggle with it, so I gave you most of the work so that you'd have to come to me for help. We spent more time together because of it."

Your mouth drops open. "Minho, you didn't."

He grins, poking your cheek. "Told you I'm super smart. I pulled an A+ and a hot partner at the same time."

You kick him in the shin.

a/n bonus: i saw this in the tags and i have to admit i laughed