Don't Go, Please - Skz Maknae!line X Reader (part 2)

tuck your innocence goodnight

i repainted this piece in honour of season 2 announcements coming out! can't wait to see my little gutterpunk in action again

the fast lane : part 1 (bangchan x reader x felix)

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

Warnings: not much tbh, skz racer!au, illegal street racing, chan is a cocky little shit, wc 2.5k

series masterlist

part 1 : the deal

The tunnel looked pretty unassuming; a round, gaping entrance that was once a pathway for trains to cross through. A hardly-used staircase leading down into a dirty subway and a copse of half dead trees sandwiched the tunnel of either side. Y/n dragged a finger across the cement wall, a trail of dirt and grime collecting on her fingertip. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she stepped back and surveyed the deserted entrance with a disdainful, skeptical eye.

The mouth of the tunnel was haphazardly littered with graffiti tags, long, sweeping, unintelligible strokes in varying shades of neon blue and green. Y/n's eyes swept across the letters and symbols, following the shapes and curves. Perhaps it was a message, or a warning. Stepping back and then peering into the darkness past the tunnel, Y/n sighed.

it felt more like a warning.

She hopped up and down on the spot and rubbed her arms. The night was cold and the air was frigid; Y/n's breath puffed out in front of her in a frozen mist, like dragon steam. She had no idea why she had decided to come here, and that too in the dead of night. Despite her passion for racing and her love of cars, she'd never raced in any official competitions, simply settling for a few high-speed laps round the city streets at night. But now, here she stood, at the entrance to an underground racing circuit, about to race alongside some of the city's most infamous racers.

Groaning inwardly and pulling out her phone, Y/n swiped to her socials and pulled up the details of the racing grounds. Checking the list of racers and seeing her name near the bottom, she huffed. There was no way she could back out now.

Gathering all her courage, Y/n stepped forward, her black boots meeting the dusty, cracked cement. The ground was scattered with cigarette butts and various other discarded items. She bit her lip and continued into the dark.

The neon, flickering electricity of the city faded away, leaving Y/n to walk through the seemingly endless darkness. Trailing one hand along the wall as she walked, Y/n felt her way to the other end of the tunnel. The details of the race had said to enter the tunnel without using flashlights, torches, or other sources of light. Y/n wondered why, and her jaw clenched as she realised it was probably to keep the police off the tracks of the races. She hadn't noticed any security cameras around the area before she'd gone in; but she couldn't shake the feeling that what she was doing was not really something she wanted to be legally confronted about.

A metallic clattering noise shook her out of her worries. Looking down and realising it was useless trying to see in the dark, Y/n bent down cautiously, hand scrabbling around on the cement, before making contact with a metal energy drink can. Chiding herself for her timidness, she walked on, slow and watchful, eyes straining.

The dark continued seemingly forever; each step she took brought a small haze of light to the end of the tunnel, then faded away. Her eyes ached with the strain of trying to see in pitch black. A small seed of panic took a firm grip on her insides, common sense returning from its brief vacation.

This is it, she thought. I'm going to be lost in the void forever.

Y/n closed her eyes, willing herself to think straight. It didn't matter whether her eyes were open or not; the dark was the same. Choking, suffocating, endless. Her fingertips on her right hand hurt from the roughness of the cement, bumps and cracks sending shockwaves of tittering trepidation through her. Her other hand was clenched tightly into a fist.

The wall beneath Y/n's fingertips suddenly disappeared, the cold air enveloping her slender hand once again. The stuffiness of the tunnel had disappeared, and Y/n tentatively opened her eyes, blinking to adjust them to the light. A surge of cold, crisp air filled her lungs with a low whoosh.

Noise.

Colour.

Light.

Y/n's eyes widened. She was standing at the entrance to a colossal circular arena. Rows of metal-backed bleachers rose in towering, circular rings around the main ground area. A large, winding race track, lined by colour-changing lights wound through the low stadium, disappearing somewhere near the back entrance; a tunnel. Turning back suddenly, Y/n stared through the darkness of the tunnel she'd juts come through. Two streets back, she would never had known any of this was here. Judging by how packed the place was, Y/n would have estimated half the city knew this racing circuit existed. It wasn't underground, per se, but it was a spectacle nonetheless. She'd never seen anything like it.

Several cars flew round the circuit, sending a whoosh of cool, petrol-smelling air into Y/n's face. She began to venture forward, and caught a glimpse of a sleek, red car speeding effortlessly around the racetrack; drifting perfectly around the turns and sending the high-pitched sound of zooming and screeching into the air. Six massive floodlights sent glaring white light flashing and reflecting off he vibrant, decorated surface of the cars and bleacher railings.

Surveying the arena with a look of stupid, dazed, disbelief, Y/n noticed a row of shiny, funky cars on a raised platform lining the right side of the amphitheatre. A throng of people were pushing against the guard rail, cheering loudly. Craning her neck to get a better look, Y/n began pushing her way through the crowd, making her way slowly but surely to the platform. The prominent beats of Japanese hip-hop music, the squeal of tires on asphalt, and the constant, excited chatter of the crowd surrounded Y/n like a fog. The excitement and passion in the air was contagious, though it was tinted with the lingering fumes of danger, risk-taking, spray-paint, and exhaust smoke.

It wasn't just the cars that were colorful; the crowd themselves sported an array of different outfits and appearances. Y/n passed by a man with a bright pink and yellow hairdo, silky waves falling into his face as two girls in neon green clung to his arm. Another had an orange LED light mask on, flashing smiley faces and heart eyes as he sold various items of racing paraphernalia to the tightly packed crowd.

But it wasn't hard to distinguish the racers themselves; they were dressed in sleek leather suits of varying colours, sponsors and supporter logos printed across their breast pockets and backs. Many of them carried helmets under the arms, and Y/n spotted a particular racer, who upon stepping out of a bright purple car, tossed his helmet and jacket to a teenage boy dressed in red. The boy fumbled to catch the items and hurriedly followed after the racer, a bit like a puppy following its owner.

It made sense to her that some of the racecar drivers had their own personal crews. Y/n knew that it was incredibly expensive to hire people for services like engineering, having spent almost half her savings on a three-person maintenance crew for the car she was to race tonight. Custom cars and suits must have been expensive enough as it was without the addition of pit crews and maintenance engineers. The people themselves were expensive, but not in a snobby, regal way. These people had the grime of the streets under their nails and hard work etched into the creases of their eyes. Y/n felt a strange sense of admiration and inspiration settle in her chest.

Finally making her way to the guard rail before the raised platform, Y/n looked past the racers and their cars, ignoring the cheering. She had eyes like a hawk's, and they landed nimbly on a roll-up garage door, which most likely led to the backstage area for the cars, and the private rooms for the racers. Thinking back to the instructions on her phone, Y/n began to move through the crowd to the door. That was where she would find her car to race tonight.

Her crew manager had sent her a photo of it; it was battered and a little rusty, but Y/n had faith in her abilities. She was going to race, and win. And if she wasn't going to win, she was going to place third at the very least. This is what you wanted, she reminded herself determinedly. Don't let anything get in your way. You're going to become a racer, one of the best street racers in this city, and-

Y/n smacked headlong into a wall of something tall and warm. Letting out an unceremonious oof, she stepped back, rubbing her forehead. Her boot caught on a stray crack in the asphalt and she tumbled backwards, landing with a thud on her ass. A low, amused chuckle came from above her.

"Should watch where you're going, sweetheart."

Squinting upwards, and huffing (half in embarrassment, half in pain- her ass really hurt...) Y/n blinked up at the obstruction that she'd run into.

A really hot obstruction.

An obstruction dressed in a racing suit of black and red leather, and with dark hair swept back over his forehead. Several strands hung down, striping his forehead, slick with sweat. He held a large, veiny hand out to her. Y/n noticed a thick, silver chain encircling his wrist.

Suddenly realising that she looked like an idiot, and was probably staring, she reached for the man's hand. It was surprisingly warm, and he was surprisingly strong; he hoisted her onto her feet without much effort. Dusting herself off and trying not to wince at the pain in her tailbone, Y/n looked up at him.

He was a little taller than she was, with sharp, angular features dripping with charming appeal. Dark eyeshadow dusted the edges of his eyes, and a neat slit ran through his left eyebrow. His hair was black as night, sheened in blue and white shades with the glinting cars and the floodlights above. His plump, pink lips curved into a smirk as he let go of her hand. Y/n hadn't even realised he'd been holding it. Her heart leapt in her chest.

"This isn't a place for little girls."

His voice was deep, rich and accented; Australian, maybe? She couldn't tell. Frowning up at him, she fired back.

"I'm not a little girl. I'm a racer."

The man leaned the wall, heavy boots tapping against the asphalt. He grinned wolfishly. "No?"

Y/n pursed her lips. "I came here to race. I'm one of the rookies listed for tonight," her voice faded off slightly at the end, a little unsure. Should she really be telling this super hot guy who she was and what she was doing?

But he only smirked again, exhaling a chuckle through his nose.

"Do you know who I am, sweetheart?"

Y/n bit her lip. She didn't.

"No," she said truthfully. Realigning her moral compass, she straightened her back and glared at him. "And don't call me that."

He sighed and stepped forwards, hands clasped behind his back. He began to advance towards her; Y/n stumbled back. Her foot met a step of some sort and she kept retreating anyway, not wanting to take her eyes off him. His gaze sent a chill of sudden fear through her. He was looking at her as if she were a particularly helpless animal he was about to pounce on.

Y/n gulped. A rush of fear, adrenaline... and something else.

The sudden feeling of cool metal meeting her lower back made Y/n stop in her tracks. Glancing sideways, she realised she'd been backed up against the man's car; though she was afraid, she couldn't help but notice how sleek and beautiful the car was, a shiny black body with wings, and red stripes lining the sides.

Attempting to move sideways, Y/n ran her hand along the low window frame, feeling her way around. The man noticed and placed his forearms on the car either side of her, caging her in. His fingers curled around her wrists, squeezing lightly. He leaned in, smelling of something woodsy and spicy. The boy-smell of gunmetal, leather, and smoke filled her nostrils, an intoxicating yet subtle wave of fumes. She fought the urge to inhale deeply, instead looking the man right in the eyes. Which was difficult.

"Leave me alone," she stuttered, cursing herself inwardly.

He chuckled again, tilting his head. "I've never seen you here before. One of the rookies, huh? They don't tend to fare well in the racing scene. Most quit after the first race. But maybe you're different, sweetheart."

Y/n glared at him, suddenly feeling brazen. Perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through her veins, but she rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Do you usually pin girls to your car without introducing yourself, or is this a one-time thing? Because I'd very much like you to let go of me."

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. A cocky smirk lifted one corner of his mouth.

"I'm Bang Christopher Chan. One of the best racers in the underground circuits, and the best in this city. I know this place like the back of my hand, but I didn't know a sassy princess would be the one standing in my way tonight," he grinned, almost devilishly. "and your name is..?"

"Y/n," she replied, not sure what else to say. She ignored the compliment, feigning an unimpressed expression.

Chan chuckled, a deep, breathy sound. "Well, Y/n, let's see how you race tonight. Shall we make a deal?"

Y/n tilted her head, raising her eyebrows. "Oh?"

Chan's eyes darken competitively. "Let's see if you're made of the real stuff. You beat me in the next race, and I'll get you a car. Whichever model you want."

Y/n's jaw dropped slightly. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's the catch?"

Chan lifted a calloused fingertip and ran it along the side of her jaw unexpectedly, seemingly admiring her features. "No catch. I'd like to see what you're made of. Unless you're scared?"

Y/n scowled before contemplating the offer. If she wanted this, she needed a proper car. And she didn't have the money to buy one yet. Taking Chan's offer, winning the race, and getting a car of her choice would be a massive help. But she still felt skeptical.

"Why are you doing this?"

Chan smirked. "Not sure. I'm not usually this nice. Look, the next race starts in 20 minutes. Is it a yes or no to the deal, princess?"

Silence. Chan let go of her wrists, holding out his right hand to shake. Y/n slowly lifted her hand, placing it in his. The heat from his hand rushed up her arm and into her bloodstream, and the cool metal of his chain link bracelet brushed her fingertips, making her shudder in a haze of delicious heat and ice. Pulling her hand back, she gazed determinedly at Chan, who only smirked, inclining his head.

"You're on."

a/n: whew! likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated. lmk what you guys think of the first chapter!

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

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

gatecrasher - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

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

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

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

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

skz prompt list | skz masterlist

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

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

For now.

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

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

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

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

"You too, gatecrasher."

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

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

"What now?" You whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. One that we broke into."

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

You grin. "Greater good, my a-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, because I'm supervising."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No," you and Changbin whisper in unison.

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

"Hyunjin-" You protest.

"Onetwothreego-"

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

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

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

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

"Two three go!"

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

lonely st. ✧ chapter v : behind closed doors

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)

warnings: han jisung in the building, the usual stuff, hyunjin is confused poor baby :( yeji is a dick

a/n: chapter fiveeeee

series masterlist | skz masterlist

Y/n watched as a butterfly fluttered past her, wings flapping haphazardly. Sighing and leaning against the rough, sanded brick of the school wall, she took a breath and began to walk home.

She'd been stalling for no particular reason; it was just that going home felt mundane and unexciting without the walk with Hyunjin. He'd told her in their last class that he was staying back for basketball practice that afternoon and she'd nodded, watching as he'd apologized for not being able to walk home with her.

Then he'd run off.

The sky seemed a little dimmer than usual, and Y/n clutched the strap of her bag as she made her way down the street, trying to become an inconspicuous presence amongst the throngs of students milling past her. She inhaled deeply as she put one foot in front of the other, the smell of the fresh, post-storm air soothing her lungs and cleansing her insides.

Y/n let her arms relax, her sketchbook slipping out from under the crook of her elbow and dropping to the pavement. Reaching to pick it up, her hand collided with someone else's, large and veiny unlike her own.

"Sorry, Y/n."

Y/n shook her head and took the sketchbook without looking at who it was, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She suddenly tilted her head in confusion, quickly checking the book for any damage.

"Wait- how do you know my name?"

"I'm in some of your classes. I don't think we've talked before, but I'm one of Hyunjin's friends. I play basketball with him too."

Y/n looked up hesitantly. The boy had a friendly, wide grin, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, much like the way Hyunjin wore his school shirt. His slightly fluffy hair was parted messily down the middle. He wasn't wearing a blazer or sweater vest, and Y/n noticed a pair of colourful sneakers on his feet, thick and chunky. Basketballer shoes.

The boy extended a hand. "I'm Han Jisung. Nice to meet ya."

"So, how's it going with Hyunjin?" Han asked casually, almost skipping alongside the path next to Y/n.

She glared at him warily, wondering if he was fishing for details, or trying to find out if she liked Hyunjin. But Han's face was open, not expectant or eager. Not a hint of malice showed in his features, just a casual, easygoing demeanour that Y/n sort of liked. He was quite the talker, so it suited her perfectly to walk in silence while Han talked about this and that.

"It's good," she said quietly.

Han nodded, jumping up to tug a random leaf off an overhanging branch. He'd offered to walk her home, and Y/n figured that if he was one of Hyunjin's friends, he was probably trustable. But she kept an eye on him nonetheless, not wishing to risk anything.

The walk had been nice, though, with Han keeping up a constant stream of cheerful chatter along the way. He's a bit like the sun, Y/n thought to herself.

She watched silently as Han leapt up to slap a sign with impressive height, a metallic thunk ringing out as he slammed a palm against it. He landed easily on his feet and turned back to Y/n, grinning.

"You try," he said.

Y/n shook her head and Han whined.

"Come onnnn, just one go. I reckon you can reach it."

Y/n sighed as Han excitedly took her bag, holding it for her. Mustering up the nonexistent strength, she ran a few steps, swinging her arms up for momentum, and jumped. Her palm hit the middle of the sign with a satisfying bang, the same thunking noise ringing out into the street.

Landing, she stumbled a little, before glancing up at Han, breathless. He cheered, clapping wildly, and handed her bag back to her. Y/n smiled without even realising. That was the fastest she'd moved in a long time. It felt good.

They reached the willow tree five minutes later, Y/n's smile fading unexpectedly. She'd actually really enjoyed walking with Han, and the rest of the walk home without his constant chattering and antics made Y/n's heart sink more than she would have liked to admit.

Han glanced up and let a hand trail through the low-hanging fronds of the willow. Thoughtfully tugging off a couple leaves, he let them flutter to the pavement before looking across at Y/n, who was seemingly lost in thought.

He turned and dug through his bag, hand reaching past the mess of pencils, uncapped pens, crumpled worksheets, and- oh, that's where his wrist brace went- to pull out a scrap of paper and a pen.

Scribbling down his number, he glanced across at Y/n, who was still staring into the distance, and recapped the pen. Shyly, he poked her arm and held out the piece of paper.

She took it hesitantly and glanced at the messy writing. Her eyes widened a tiny bit.

Han shook his hands frantically at her surprised expression, afraid he'd gone too far. "U-um, I just thought it'd be good for you to have my number- you know, since we're both friends with Hyunjin and all, it might be good to stay in contact.. if you want to, of course-"

Y/n nodded, butterflies taking flight in her stomach. "Thanks."

"That's okay. Maybe we can text tonight? Again, if you want to..."

Y/n smiled a tiny bit, the expression feeling strange and unfamiliar. She'd only known Han for 20 minutes, but he already felt like a friend. Maybe they already were friends.

Was it possible to be friends with someone even if you hadn't known them for a long time? Or was that just something people said all the time, but wasn't actually true?

She bid Han a quiet goodbye and he turned and walked back down the street, pausing only to give her a grin over his shoulder. He gestured a texting action with his hands and mouthed 'tonight' before turning the corner and disappearing.

Y/n glanced down at the piece of paper between her fingers. He'd scribbled his number haphazardly across the paper. Next to the last digit was a little smiley face and a messy rendition of a basketball.

The strange, warm, fuzzy sensation came back, settling in Y/n's stomach like a warm, chocolatey drink on a cold winter's day.

For the first time, Y/n welcomed the feeling.

Y/n sighed in relief, shutting her textbook. Her teachers were really dishing out the homework this week for some reason. She'd told herself to finish it before texting Han, and her fingers had been itching to touch her phone throughout. She'd ended up shutting it into her bedside drawer so she wouldn't get distracted.

Looking out her window thoughtfully, she put the textbook neatly to the side and moved to her bed, pulling out her phone from the drawer. She bit her lip

What if it was all just a joke? What if Han had just given her his number so he could clown her for thinking that he really was her friend?

Shaking her head, Y/n entered Han's number and hit the texting application. Thumbing out a short message, she hit sent before she could second-guess herself.

*texting unknown number* y/n: han? unknown number: y/n, hey!

Y/n blinked, wondering if she was seeing things. She wasn't. That was fast.

unknown number: i was worried i'd written my number down wrong. i'm not good at remembering stuff, so i'm glad i got it right 👌 y/n: yeah y/n: thank you for walking with me today unknown number: of course unknown number: it was fun, actually unknown number: and a nice change from having to listen to felix scold me about eating things i shouldn't y/n: ... unknown number: don't question it unknown number: by the way, you can call me jisung. we're friends now, so you don't have to be formal 😁 *y/n changed 'unknown number' to 'jisung'* y/n 🎨: there, i changed it jisung: cool jisung: i already changed yours to 'y/n 🎨' y/n 🎨: why the paint palette emoji? jisung: hyunjin told me and felix that you sketch. he said you're really good. jisung: you being an artist is really cool. i can't draw to save my life

A warm feeling spread across Y/n's cheeks, the same way it had when she'd shown Hyunjin a snippet of one of her sketches during their daily lunchtime library sessions. She wondered when Hyunjin had told his friend about her passion for sketching.

Y/n thought that Jisung was honestly really sweet for not being afraid to compliment her on it.

y/n 🎨: thanks y/n 🎨: you said you played basketball? jisung: yup jisung: we have a championship tournament coming up soon too y/n 🎨: that's cool y/n 🎨: are there positions in basketball? like offense or defence jisung: yeah, i play power forward jisung: hyunjin plays center since he's pretty much the designated captain, plus he's really good y/n 🎨: i haven't seen him play, but i can believe that jisung: yea, he's amazing. wish i could be as good as he is y/n 🎨: i bet you're a great player too jisung: you know, you're actually really nice y/n 🎨: thanks...? jisung: nonono not like that jisung: i just meant that i didn't expect you to be so sweet, you usually sort of come across as... y/n 🎨: cold? jisung: ...yeah. but it's not a bad thing. jisung: it just means that when you do show emotion, you mean it with your whole heart

Y/n rolled over onto her back and looked up thoughtfully at the ceiling. She'd never thought of it that way. It made sense.

A thought occurred to her suddenly.

y/n 🎨: hyunjin usually walks home with me jisung: yeah, he told me about that. when you gave him the bandaids too. jisung: what about it? y/n 🎨: he said he had basketball practice. you're on the team too, so how come you didn't know jisung: i thought you were y/n, not some sort of super detective, jeez! y/n 🎨: haha, it just occurred to me jisung: hyunjin sometimes stays back by himself so he can practice. though i do think he overdoes it sometimes y/n 🎨: he seems like he loves playing basketball a lot jisung: sometimes i think if i asked him to choose between me and his beloved basketball, he would choose basketball 🥲

Y/n let out a quiet laugh as she read Jisung's message. No wonder him and Hyunjin were friends. They had the same easygoing demeanour, the same effortless style of humour.

y/n 🎨: i doubt hyunjin would choose basketball over you, if that makes you feel any better jisung: i wish 😔 he spends a lot of time practicing by himself after school most days jisung: speaking of, did you want his number?

Y/n put her phone down and bit her lip. Would it be weird if she said yes? She didn't want to come across as clingy or overly attached. She typed out a reply.

y/n 🎨: no, it's okay. jisung: you just gonna wait til he gives it to you himself?

Y/n must have paused for a bit too long after reading his message, because Jisung followed up.

jisung: don't sweat it if that's what you were planning to do jisung: he could do with the push

She huffed out a laugh on an exhale and typed back.

y/n 🎨: maybe don't push him too far, he might fall over y/n 🎨: i think he's injured enough... jisung: at least he has you and your bandaid supply to keep him going lol y/n 🎨: yup jisung: super sorry dude but i have to go finish my overdue math homework tonight or my teacher might actually throw me out the window y/n 🎨: who's your math teacher? jisung: mr yang y/n 🎨: we have the same math teacher. i never realised jisung: oh we do, that's dope jisung: we should sit together next class y/n 🎨: sure, if you want y/n 🎨: just curious, but how long is your math homework overdue by? jisung: ... jisung: three and a half weeks y/n 🎨: that's actually crazy y/n 🎨: no wonder mr yang is so stressed all the time jisung: shut up jisung: anyway, we have math tomorrow, so i'll see you then y/n 🎨: okay. see you later, jisung jisung: byeee 👋

Hyunjin slumped down onto the bench, sweaty hair mussing against the wall. His shoes squeaked against the court's polished wooden floor as he stretched out his legs in front of him.

How long had he been practicing for? An hour? Two? A whole day?

The bell that went at the end of the school day felt like it had gone a long time ago. All Hyunjin wanted to do was head home, take his sweaty basketball gear off, shower, and eat something good. Then he would collapse into bed and feel the soft, soft pillow against his cheek...

His phone buzzed. Sighing, Hyunjin reached into his bag and pulled it out. He flicked open the notification bar and saw that he had a new message from Yeji. Groaning, he swiped the chat open.

yeji 🍭: you coming over tonight?

Hyunjin pursed his lips and blew a strand of sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes.

hyunjin: huh? yeji 🍭: for tutoring, silly hyunjin: oh

If he was being honest with himself, he didn't feel like going. He felt exhausted. But Yeji would never let him hear the end of it if he backed out. And it had been a while since they'd talked. He was sort of missing her.

hyunjin: sure hyunjin: give me half an hour yeji 🍭: see you then, jinnie

Hyunjin slurped up a mouthful of ramen, gulping down the noodles and broth. He groaned. Food always tasted better after practice. It tasted even better after he was all cozy and cleaned up.

Yeji had opened the door as soon as he'd knocked. Her parents were often out at night time, since they both worked late office jobs, and she was only too happy to have the house to herself and Hyunjin.

He'd taken a shower at hers and changed into his spare set from his duffel bag before heading into her room. It felt so good to wash off all the sweat and grime he so often collected during intense training sessions. He'd stood under the hot water for a long time, letting it soothe his muscles and relieve the aching.

Walking into her room, Hyunjin noticed she'd set the lighting low and easy on the eyes, gold and pink hues shining out from the lampshade to cast patterns around the room.

Currently, he was sitting on her bed, slurping ramen from an instant noodle cup. Yeji was sitting on her desk chair, deep orange locks tied back messily in a bun, doing the same thing.

Countless times they'd done this. Their parents were close friends and the result of that growing up was a lot of time spent at the other's place. Now, the routine felt comforting and familiar.

It was a little awkward at times, considering they were both older now, but Hyunjin was grateful for her company. What with all the stress and hustle from schoolwork and basketball practice, it felt good to slow down and just relax.

Yeji glanced across at him as he set the empty ramen cup down on her bedside. She chuckled as he flopped back onto her bedspread, almost hitting his head on the wall.

"Careful."

Hyunjin only groaned in response, too exhausted to do anything else.

"Do we have to study?" He managed to get out.

Yeji laughed and set her own cup down, moving to flop down into a beanbag on the floor. The sky outside was dimming in shades of orange and lilac.

"Not if you don't want to. But what happened to wanting to pass the semester, Jinnie?"

Hyunjin sighed and propped himself up on his elbows, gazing at her blearily. "I can do that when I'm not completely exhausted."

Yeji got up and turned the lamp up a little higher before moving to sit next to him. She poked his leg.

"Come on, don't fall asleep."

Hyunjin simply rolled over, turning his back to her. Sure, Yeji could be fake and irritating and more than a bit of a drama queen if she felt like it, but she was Hyunjin's childhood friend. A close confidant, and good company too. Sometimes he wasn't sure what to think of her, but sometimes he liked her a lot too.

He found his heart thudding as she leaned over to poke his cheek. Her airy perfume filled the space between them with a soft, vanilla scent.

She smells so good...

"Jinnie," she said softly. "If you fall asleep here, where am I supposed to sleep? On the floor?"

"In my arms," he murmured, feeling hazy and pleasantly drowsy.

She leaned closer, having not heard what he'd said. "What?"

"Nothing..."

Yeji sighed, lying down behind him and putting her hands behind her head. She stared up at the ceiling, letting her legs dangle off the bed.

"How's basketball?"

"Busy," he whispered in response. "How's dance?"

"Busy."

Hyunjin rolled over, propping his head under his elbow. "Your competition is soon, isn't it?"

Yeji nodded, not taking her eyes off the ceiling. She'd taken her hair out, but there was a little star barrette she'd left in on the right side of her head, near her ear. She must have forgotten about it. Hyunjin could tell she was tired like he was; there were slight bags under her eyes now that she'd removed the concealer from them, and her eyes were drooping shut.

He took a deep breath and reached out to gently unclip the barrette from the locks, his heart pounding so loud it hurt. She didn't move. Hyunjin's eyes flicked to her face and he realised they were shut.

She's asleep, he thought in relief.

Glancing outside, he checked the time on his phone; it was getting late, and he'd be expected to get home soon. He set the star hairclip next to her before reaching out with a shaky hand and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, light as a feather.

He could stay a little longer.

Through his exhaustion, Hyunjin could feel guilt suddenly nagging at his consciousness. How could he be lying her next to her, crushing on her and touching her hair, knowing what she'd said about Y/n? That she was an outcast, that she was only friends with Y/n out of pity...

It's not like Y/n knows about it, Hyunjin desperately reasoned with himself, fighting against his moral compass.

The little sensible voice in Hyunjin's head spoke up. You know it's not right, Hyunjin. Even if you're close friends with Yeji, it's not worth it to throw Y/n under the bus... right?

Hyunjin grit his teeth. Was he willing to lose Yeji in order to become closer with Y/n? Or would he just mess everything up with Yeji? She was his childhood friend. He'd only known Y/n for just under a month's worth of time.

Hyunjin tugged at his damp hair in agitation.

Do the right thing.

Picking up his duffel, he quietly checked he'd gotten every one of his belongings before heading out the door. His desires fought him every step out of her room. He glanced at her sleeping figure before taking a deep breath and continuing away.

He headed quietly down the stairs, and across the living room, before opening the front door. Confusion, agitation, frustration, and indecision tugged at his heartstrings and settled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, like he'd eaten something that had gone bad.

A tear ran down his cheek as he started off down the street.

Hyunjin lifted his head from the pillow as his phone let out a ding, signalling a new notification. Groaning and wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands, he reached across and glared at the bright screen.

yeji 🍭: hey, where'd you go? yeji 🍭: i woke up and you were gone

Hyunjin sighed and flopped onto his back. He'd fallen asleep as soon as he'd gotten home, but not before having a little cry. He'd never tell any of the boys, but he liked the feeling of crying, the feeling of the weight lifting off his shoulders. He typed out a reply.

hyunjin: sorry, i had to go, i was expected home yeji 🍭: could've left me a note, jinnie yeji 🍭: i thought you would have stayed the night yeji 🍭: it would have been nice, just the two of us hyunjin: what do you mean? hyunjin: i mean i've stayed the night before, but it seems like you're saying something different this time... yeji 🍭: i mean yeji 🍭: you know yeji 🍭: it is different hyunjin: how so? yeji 🍭: you know why it's different, jinnie.

Hyunjin's hands fumbled and he dropped his phone on his forehead at her reply. He winced and rubbed the red spot on his forehead.

She knows. She knows. She knows.

He shoved his phone under his pillow and buried his face in it, trying to erase the whole evening from his mind. Regret washed over him. He should have just denied her 'tutoring' invite and gone home. He could have saved himself all the time and trouble.

And all of the tears.

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

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

landscape - hwang hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

summary: while hyunjin is gone on a trip, you decide to surprise him

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, reader described as the artsy type

a/n: thank you all sm for the support so far!! i woke up to 99+ notifications this morning, i'm so glad people enjoy my work 🥹

Your white shirt is streaked with another smear of peachy paint, right down the middle. Several other miscellaneous shades haphazardly decorate your front and back. Your jeans, to say the least, are permanently ruined. Your overall appearance right now gives off the vibes of an abstract painting that was left to dry, but then was accidentally dropped on the floor and forgotten about.

You couldn't care less.

Giggling to yourself, you reach up and swipe another streak of yellow across the wall. The room is a mess right now. A large white sheet is spread across the floor to protect the floorboards, and a load of different paint tins and cans are scattered throughout the room, crowding at your feet. Paintbrushes clutter the desk, and Lana del Rey echoes in the background, reverberating off the walls and swelling to fill the messy space. Almost every surface of the room is covered in paint and markers and pencils and a miscellany of other items that makes it look more like a art-dumping ground than Hyunjin's little art studio.

He's been gone on a work trip for the past few days, and without his presence to entertain you, you endeavored to start a project, something that would keep you busy until you returned. Safe to say, it certainly has.

You're currently painting a massive landscape across the back wall of the art studio, where it will best catch the light from the window opposite. The wet paint glows with the dappled sunlight that filters in through the window, making the rolling hills and fields of the painting look like they're under the summer sun. You asked Hyunjin beforehand about what he might do to decorate the studio, since the walls were bare and blank. He had simply laughed and kissed your nose, saying 'you decide, love.'

You're not really sure what he would think about the current mess on the wall. It's distinguishable, but you know it would have looked much better if he had been here to help. But you've tried your best, and it looks a lot better than you thought it would, so you continue, streaking sage and sky blue across the surface of the wall.

You've never felt so free. You understand why Hyunjin loves his craft so much, spending almost every free minute in this studio, with his paintbrush flicking expertly across the canvas and his slender, pretty hands tinted in reds and blues.

A sudden gasp from the studio door makes you drop the paintbrush. It clatters to the floor and you freeze, turning your head to the doorway.

Hyunjin stands, tall and elegant as always, both hands clasped to his mouth and eyes wide open. He's dressed in a smart, black suit, but his socks are mismatched and his hair is falling out of his hairstyle. One silver earrings clings to the lobe of his ear. He must have lost the other one, or been in the process of taking it off when he found you here in the studio, making an absolute mess on the walls.

But he doesn't look horrified at all. You thought at first he looked the way a parent might, when they walk into a room and find out their toddler has been drawing on the walls with coloured sharpies.

He looks delighted.

Rushing towards you, he sweeps you up in a hug, spinning around and laughing. You wriggle, not because you aren't pleased to see him, but because he's wearing a Versace suit and you're a mess of mismatched paints barely resembling a human being. He only holds you tighter, burying his face in your neck and streaking his cheek and hair with scarlet in the process. The scent of his spicy, woodsy perfume mixes with the smell of paint and turpentine, and you inhale deeply. He's bouncing on the spot, hands gesturing wildly and feet shuffling in a way that reminds you more of an excitable golden retriever puppy than your boyfriend. You're not sure if he's happier to see you or the half-painted wall. You open your mouth to express your surprise and delight at his sudden arrival, but are interrupted.

He squeals, hands flapping. "The WALL! Did you do it all by yourself? Oh, and you raided all my art supplies too- is that a landscape of Jeju Island, where we went last year? Oh, it is! I remember you stood there and i took photos of you- love, you really should have painted yourself into it, i would have loved that-"

You cut him off with a kiss. Pulling back, you whisper.

"Help me finish it? It doesn't feel perfect like i wanted it to..."

He's already stripping off his Versace jacket, throwing it to the paint-smattered floor.

"Hyunjin- why would you throw it on the floor, that's expensive-"

"Don't care."

He's already picked up your fallen brush, handing it to you and selecting one of his own. Crouching down, he delicately dips it into a tin of black paint and adds two little stick figures in the corner- a tall one with a paintbrush and a shorter one holding its hand. He changes brushes and gently dabs yellow and red to its face, similar to your face in its current state. It takes you a moment to realise that it's you and Hyunjin. He grins, setting his brush down.

"Now it's perfect."

a/n: don't forget to request ! likes and comments are so appreciated, and again, thank you for all the love <3

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

hi~ would love to request from the prompt list!!

46 + 49 with bangchan seems interesting :D

hihi, sorry for the delay lol TT producer!chan now joins the fic library alongside producer!jisung. i felt like writing something with most of skz bc i think it makes it more fun :] here you gooooo

electrifying - bang chan

pairing: bang chan x producer!reader

summary: a late night with chan in the studio leads to a little more.

genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort, kind of crack tbh, most of skz is in this fic, hyunlix honourable mention, mutual pining

a/n: producer chan save me. divider by @veonaa

⛓️ prompts: 46. "What if I told you I knew?" / 49. "I have a confession to make."

skz prompt list | skz masterlist

"Try one more time," you suggest quietly. "Just the last two lines then we'll move to the pre-chorus."

Minho nods from the recording booth, slipping one headphone back over his ear. He nails it and you replay back the recording, looking to Chan to verify that it's okay.

He's writing down a couple of notes on his lyric sheet, a thin pencil held between his fingers. Looking up, he nods, before his gaze flits to yours and then back again to Minho, who is waiting quietly in the recording booth. You compliment him and give him a sunny smile as he exits the booth.

The process continues with most of the other members; Jeongin and Changbin have already finished recording their parts since they came in early. Seungmin's part takes a little longer, so you and Chan do him next, trying to work productively.

The night ends up running quite late; most of the boys are beginning to get bored, and Chan had initially suggested a group meeting at the end of the session, but after several antics begin to disrupt the process, he dismisses them with a weary sigh.

Hyunjin practically flies out the door, Felix following him with a smile to the dance studio, and the other boys begin to dissipate, thanking you quietly before heading home for the night.

You try not to laugh as you save Seungmin's recording on a file. "Thank you, Seungminnie. You can go."

He nods and thanks you politely before turning to leave. Now it's just you and Chan, who has yet to record his lines. Unlike most of the other boys, Chan's part takes unusually long. He fixes his voice on one line but messes it up on another, dragging out certain words and furrowing his brow.

"Chan, you okay? We can call it a night if you want."

He looks at you through the glass, seemingly surprised. "Yeah, I'm alright, why?"

You set your headphones down. "It's just that it's quite late, and you might do better tomorrow with some rest? You look exhausted."

Chan sighs and nods. Whatever is on his mind, it's clearly bothering him, and you glance sideways at him as he sits back down next to you at the recording table. All is silent as both of you relapse into editing the recordings at your own individual paces.

But you're not so much focusing on the recordings as focusing on your fellow producer. You fight not to look across at him, knowing it'll be obvious, and turn yourself a little away from him in order to not be distracted. You do it subtly, so that Chan doesn't notice, and it works a trick, because half an hour passes and you've almost finished editing the recordings and checking the backing track.

Neither of you have said a word, a comforting silence descending over the studio. Maybe because it's night time and the usual noises from outside the door are beginning to quiet, or maybe it's because Chan is here, bringing with him a sort of safe serenity that you only really feel when he's around.

You lean back in your chair and make to grab a notebook from behind you on the lower table, sneaking a glance at Chan in the process. All black clothes as per usual, his leather jacket slipping off his shoulder a little as he hunches over the desk. His hair is curly and un-styled, a little fluffy under his black cap. He's murmuring to himself as he scrubs a hand across his eyes, smudging a length of pencil graphite across his cheek in the process.

Without turning, he speaks. “You know, Y/n… I’ve been thinking. What if I told you I knew?"

You frown, snapping out of your daze, looking at him slightly confused. “Knew what?”

Chan turns, and there's a gentle smile, almost a smirk painted across his mouth. The world holds its breath and suddenly you find that nothing else matters. Not right now.

He leans a little closer, resting an elbow on the desk. “Knew that you like me. That you’ve liked me for a while now.”

You freeze for a second, tidal waves of reality crashing down on you at his words. Your cheeks flood with colour. “W-What? How—how could you possibly know that?”

Chan chuckles, but there’s a tenderness in it that makes your heart beat a little faster.

He shrugs. “I’ve noticed the little things. The way you smile at me when you think I’m not looking. The way you get quiet when I tease you. I’m not blind, you know."

The warmth in his voice makes your crush’s face turn bright red (more so than it already is), and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. The air between you feels charged, filled with unspoken feelings. Chan reaches over and gently brushes his thumb against your hand.

The touch is electrifying.

His voice is soft. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Also, while we're on this topic, I’ve got a confession to make.”

You looks up at him, heart pounding, as he speaks again, the weight of his words suddenly heavier than expected.

Chan speaks slowly, looking into your eyes. “I like you too. A lot. And I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you without messing things up. You know, considering all of this.” He waves his hands vaguely in the air, but you know what he means.

The confession hangs in the air, and for a long moment, neither of you say anything. But the silence is comfortable like before, like everything both of you have wanted to say has finally found its way out. Chan’s hand stays gently resting against yours, a comforting yet giddy warmth, and you feel your heart flutter at the sight of his hand swallowing yours.

You smile shyly at him. “You really knew?”

Chan laughs quietly, not unkindly. “Yeah. I think I’ve known for a while now."

There’s a pause, then both of you break into shy smiles, both realizing that the thing you were both too nervous to say has finally been said. It's clear neither of you know how to continue, as you're too shocked to process what has apparently just happened, and it seems Chan hasn't planned this far either, his energy simply concentrated on confessing.

You both sit and gaze at each other, mouths opening a little and then hesitating, wondering if the other will say something. But neither of you do, until the door flies open with a bang.

Hyunjin and Felix are standing in the doorway, sweating and disheveled from a nightly dance practice. Seeing how they flew out of the studio earlier, you see no foreseeable reason why they would have returned, until you see Hyunjin's phone on the low table.

"Sorry," Hyunjin drawls, panting. "Forgot my phone-"

He cuts himself off and his jaw drops, matching Felix's. The looks on their faces are comical and you would laugh if you weren't suddenly so flustered.

Felix quickly stumbles past Hyunjin and grabs his friend's phone off the table, shooting Chan a not-so-subtle smirk as he bows hurriedly.

"Sorry for interrupting!" Hyunjin calls, cackling before turning away, a giggling Felix at his side.

The door slams shut before either of you can process, hands jerked back from each other as they'd entered and frozen in the air.

The situation is suddenly so ridiculous that you burst into unexpected laughter. You can see Hyunjin and Felix through the frosted glass of the studio door, hunched over and whispering to each other through hushed snickering and giggling.

Chan groans and drops his head into his hands.

a/n: i love the purple theme, suits channie so much

Heya! Do you take requests?

ya

reader x changbin with some angst involving readers birthday (like people forgetting) and binnie comforting them

here you go anon <3 also i couldn't find matching header pics but whatever (don't look at it for too long and it'll be fine)

lamplight - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

summary: your friends forget your birthday and changbin finds out

genre: fluff, idol! au, angsty, reader cries a lot, sad boi hours, not proofread as per usual

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

You huff and slide down the closed door, trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes. The bedroom is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the lamp in the corner, and a cast of warm, golden light spills onto the surfaces in the room.

It's a cool night, it's raining heavily outside, and Changbin is home with you. Your schedules are free and you're off work for the weekend too. These combined things should have made you happy, but instead you felt as if you were the most insignificant, useless person in the entire world.

Unimportant, unappreciated, unloved.

You can hear Changbin pacing down the hallway, muttering something frantically to himself in Korean. You know he's worrying about whether he did something wrong, and it only makes you feel worse; that he's upset, and that he was trying to take care of you when you got home, but you had shoved him aside and slammed the bedroom door behind you without so much as a hello to him.

You were just so upset about how your friends forgot your birthday and it made you forget about the one person who cared more about you than anyone else in the entire world.

A fresh wave of guilty tears pools up in your eyes and you clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs, squeezing your eyes shut as if it'll somehow alleviate the crushing pain in your chest. How could you have hurt him like that?

There's a gentle knocking at the door and you jolt, accidentally slamming your elbow back into the solid surface. Groaning quietly, you cradle your arm in your hand and try to quieten your crying.

"Jagiya?" Changbin asks timidly from the other side of the door. "Please open the door, I can hear you crying."

You sniff and wipe a sleeve across your nose, scrunching your face up in mild disgust at the wet trail it leaves behind. "I'm not crying."

You hear a gentle sigh and the sound tweaks at your heartstrings, knowing Changbin can see right through your feeble, defenseless lie.

"Jagi, I could hear you crying from down the hallway. I didn't mean to make you upset, I just want to hold you. Please open the door?"

You sigh sadly and sniff one more time before crouching and opening the door. Changbin's knelt on the other side, the line of the threshold the only thing separating you two. You look up at him, feeling like a watery, pathetic mess, and all Changbin does is smile softly, the action making your heart flutter even through your sadness.

You lean forward and crash into his arms.

He holds you like that for a while, only moving to sit against the bed with you on his lap. He doesn't say anything, just quietly shushes you and rocks you, stroking your hair and wiping your tears. After your sobs quieten down, you look up at him.

"I'm sorry I brushed you off when I came home, it's just-"

He shushes you gently. "It's okay, I could tell you had a bad day."

You shake your head violently, feeling regretful and guilty. Changbin cups your cheeks with his warm, slightly calloused hands and kisses the tip of your nose.

"What happened, jagi?" he murmurs.

You sigh. "My friends forgot my birthday."

Changbin laughs incredulously, shifting you in his lap and sitting more upright. "Who dares forgot my jagiya's birthday, huh? I want names!"

"Binnie-"

"Jagi, if they forgot your birthday then they're not your friends, okay? Dump them," he settles back against the bed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

You frown, sniffing quietly. "But didn't you forget Minho's birthday a while ago? How come he hasn't dumped you?"

Changbin laughs again, the high-pitched cackle making your mouth tweak at the corners. "Because we're in the same group with the guys," he flexes his muscles, "and besides, I have appearances to keep up with."

You giggle and lean against his chest. Changbin leans down and kisses your forehead, speaking quieter but with a grin.

"Speaking of Minho and the guys, they're coming in half an hour to celebrate, so go and get dressed and look all pretty, okay? I bought you something, it's hanging on the back of the bathroom door."

You shoot bolt upright in disbelief.

Changbin simply grins. "Happy birthday, jagiya."

a/n: awwww

“i just like my alone time” i say as if loneliness hasn’t been all i’ve known since childhood