Protective!maknae Line Skz X Maknae!9th Member Reader

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

ttokki!! can u share your works/requests in progress w us, please?

hi anon ! omg i don't know why but i heard the cutest, sweetest little voice saying this when i read it. cute. anyway, i have a couple wips right now:

☆ bf jisung x reader who loves to bake

☆ minho x reader with prompts 7 and 28 from my prompt list

☆ another mystery 9th member fic that i'm thinking of posting soon

☆ a skz reaction post

that's it so far ! requests usually kind of flood in after i post a 9th member fic so i'm just waiting for requests atm ><

bye cute anon . . .

Heya! Do you take requests?

ya

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

Hi Ttokki! 😁 I just wanted to ask if you could possibly write some short scenarios of Stray Kids being protective over their ninth member!maknae!reader? 🙏

Here are some ideas: a staff member is rude/impatient with the reader for no reason; a fan is being weird (getting too close, saying uncomfortable things, asking weird things); the reader receives hate for something stupid (sweating, being "too" comfortable/close with the members, having a scar, acne, whatever); during a variety show, the reader is forced to face a phobia and even almost cries (snakes, spiders, insects, etc); because of some pain or uncomfortable outfit, the reader's vocals are unstable during a performance and people hate on it.

I know there are many ideas... you of course don't need to use them if you don't wanna. Or even do this request at all. 💕 Either way, I hope your life is full of happiness! 🫶

hii !! thank you for the request, anon <3 i think i might make this two parts lol . . . it might have gotten a bit long otherwise . i'll use the rest of your ideas in the maknaes' part . here you gooo~

protective!hyung line skz x maknae!9th member reader

pairing: protective!ot8!skz x maknae!9th member reader

summary: how skz would be protective of their maknae (that's you!)

genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, just hyung line being super sweet and protective, chan being intimidating asf, hyunjin being super cheeky but that's just who he is lmao (we love him really)

a/n: divider by @mikeykuns . also taglist is open for anyone who wants to join !

skz masterlist

Chan who firmly chides a staff member who's getting a little too riled up over a small mistake that you made during filming. He picks up the camera stand that you accidentally knocked over and guides you away, a hand on your back. Whispers a little joke to you and tries to make you smile in a bid to make you forget about being told off. Needless to say, that certain staff member seems to disappear when Chan is around you from then on, and you ask him if he did something to make that happen. He just looks away and suddenly changes the subject, and then later on, you notice that the staff member who kept telling you off is suddenly nowhere to be seen. Their belongings are gone from the desk and you're glad to see them gone, and you catch Chan smirking to himself as he shuts their empty office door.

Minho who glowers at a fan who's being just a little too flirty; he's sitting next to you for the fanmeeting, and there's a fluffy headband sitting on the crown of his head. It doesn't stop him from responding effortlessly to him own fan, but his hands tighten around the gifts in front of him as the creepy fan in front of you begins to inch a little closer over the table, reaching for your hands. As the fan doesn't notice his attempts to intimidate, he knocks over a bottle of water, spilling a long, thin stream of it over your side of the table, effectively creating a water line between you and the fan, and making said fan jump back in shock, complaining over soaked sleeves. Minho just winks at you and pokes your knee, muttering a rather vile phrase and making you giggle as the fan storms out.

Changbin who watches you trip over on stage as you walk up to begin your part of the song; your mic clatters to the floor and the entire audience holds their breath as you scramble to pick it up, cheeks scarlet from embarrassment. Your energy is dimmed for the rest of the performance, and you can practically feel the judging, disapproving stares of everyone in the crowd. That is, until you hear another clatter from in front of you, and realise that Changbin has dropped his mic too, leaning down to pick it up with a cheeky grin as he jumps back into place. Your heart rises, the weight lifted off of it as he shoots you a wink, reassuring and reckless. The murmurs get louder but now you couldn't care less, leaning down to whisper a thankyou to him as the choreo brings you closer to him. Later, his face will be proudly tinged with pink as you all walk off the stage.

Hyunjin who quickly changes the subject during an interview that's getting a little too personal, and leans down to put a hand on your shoulder as the interviewer starts getting a little too close. Interjects with loud laughing and funny skits to keep the attention off you, and his gaze is slightly maniacal as he eyes the interviewer, squeezing your shoulder before pulling away so the cameras don't pick it up. Is so smooth with it that you begin to feel more comfortable throughout the interview and you even become confident enough to question the interviewer himself, who stutters and changes the subject. Hyunjin watches on proudly and definitely reports the guy afterwards for harassment, and even sits through a scolding from a staff member about being polite to the reporters and interviewers. He couldn't care less, if he was being honest, and fights a cheeky, rebellious smile as he's dismissed from the room.

a/n: yay first post with my new taglist~ send me a dm, ask, or comment under the taglist post to be added !

ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever

the fast lane : part 5 (bangchan x reader x felix)

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

Warnings: skz racer!au, fluff, angst, chan isn't as much of a dick (yayyy), jisung is the best, lots of vroom vrooming, not proofread, brief mentions of injury, tiny bit suggestive if you squint, that's it i think 3.6 k wc

series masterlist

part 5 : white knight and black knight

"You ready?" Jisung asked.

Y/n nodded shakily, adjusting her leather jacket. The material felt foreign, unusually smooth and uncomfortable against her skin. Jisung had kindly lent it to her, since she didn't have a racing jacket of her own yet, and not for the first time, Y/n was truly grateful for his amiable nature and quick smile.

He was just so easy to be friends with.

Y/n had only spent several days in Jisung's company as he'd helped train her, but by the time Saturday's race came around, she felt as if she'd known him for years. It was a pleasant feeling, to have someone who was so willingly kind to her after experiencing Chan's confusing attitude towards her, and the other racers' nonchalance and ignorance of her presence entirely. Minho's absence still bitterly tugged at Y/n's heartstrings, but with Jisung's constant chattering, grinning, and spontaneous antics, the sadness and longing began to slowly fade away, and Y/n surprisingly found herself enjoying herself in and out of the arena for the first time since Minho's impromptu training sessions.

Jisung nudged her shoulder suddenly, chuckling as she blinked, having been so lost in her thoughts that she'd forgotten where she was. "You'll be fine, Y/n."

Y/n exhaled, nodding, glad that he'd mistaken her quietness for nerves. She liked Jisung, but being a naturally suspicious person, she was finding it truly difficult to open up and tell him things that might have come easy to someone else. She understood now, why Chan acted the way he did, how he might have been feeling the same way as she did, not knowing who to trust or open up to.

Y/n was surprised she currently even had the capacity to hear herself think. The arena was bright and bustling, trails of car exhaust smoke rising in wisping plumes against the night sky. The floodlights were slightly dimmed, their usual blinding, white glare toned down by the hundreds of coloured light bulbs threading through the grandstands, giving the arena and racetrack a garishly dramatic, multi-coloured aura of reds, pinks, blues, and yellows. The cars racing in the next heat were already lined up, decorated in flashy stripes and sheens of neon colours that made Y/n's head spin if she looked for too long. Minho's car, her car now, was there too, the neon green and chrome black cast sending a jolting, bittersweet pang through her heart. Jisung's neon red and candy-pink Mustang was positioned directly behind hers.

Someone brushed past her shoulder suddenly, smelling woodsy and spicy. Y/n knew that scent now.

Chan moved past her, walking into the crowds towards his car as if she'd conjured him there out of her thoughts. She hadn't seen him around much since their shared breakdown in the tuning shop, but she was relieved to at least see that he was okay. Yn subconsciously realised she'd been coming around to him, albeit extremely slowly and warily.

Not to say she had forgiven him for what he'd done to Minho.

Y/n considered going after him suddenly, feeling a strange urge to reconnect with him the way they'd done in the garage. But she knew in her heart Chan wouldn't want to talk about it, especially since he'd been crying. She had a feeling most of the racers here weren't really into shows of affection or vulnerability unless it was shoving their tongues down the throats of the grid girls, who were currently swarming flirtatiously around a blonde-haired racer clad in jet black and blue.

Not that there was any time to reconnect with Chan anyway.

Jisung clapped her on the back, giving her a final, million-watt smile before disappearing behind her to enter his own car in the lineup. Y/n took a shaky breath and opened the car door of her own, sliding smoothly into the driver's seat. Her fingers found their place on the wheel, the cool leather sending an involuntary shiver up her spine. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to focus. Opening them again, trying to clear her head, Y/n glanced in her rearview mirror, noticing Jisung making his final adjustments in his seat. Y/n fought a tiny, fond laugh as he hit his elbow on the window frame, his lean top half temporarily disappearing as he keeled over dramatically at the pain.

Dragging her eyes away from her friend, Y/n glanced across to her left, noticing Chan clenching the wheel of his own car next to her. His sleek, dark Corvette was polished to an effortless shine, the red streamlining catching the multi-coloured lights sprinkled around the racetrack. He was wearing the exact same black and red racing suit he'd worn when she'd first ran into him, and Y/n cringed at the memory, remembering how she'd fallen straight onto her ass afterwards. She was also convinced that Chan probably slept in his racing suit at this point. She was about to smile at the thought, turning to look at him, when she realised he looked a lot more focused than usual.

No, not focused.

Tense.

Like he was worried about something.

Every single muscle was rigid and stiff. He kept shifting in his seat, his usual bravado disappearing completely as he fretted silently to himself, frowning every now and then. Y/n hastily redirected her gaze as Chan's eyes caught hers, her heart thudding at the unexpected glance.

A grating rev from her other side made Y/n jolt. Glaring at the racer to her left, Y/n's jaw dropped a little as she realised the racer who had been flirting with the grid girls was staring directly at her. Her glare disappeared as quickly as it had come, a sudden shyness and sense of inferiority crashing over her being. His car must have been the most expensive one on the track. The McLaren P1's sleek, deep blue body was decorated with vibrant, sky blue lightning strikes detailed in black and white. It was truly stunning.

So is the racer inside it, Y/n thought.

She promptly realised she'd been staring at the blonde-haired racer for some time now. He was doing the same, his dark, almost boyishly pretty eyes boring into Y/n's with an intensity that made her want to shrink into oblivion. His face was freckled, the blonde strands falling down over his forehead and nape in messy, loosely clustered strands. She could faintly see his roots growing out, the colour beneath the harsh dye a pleasant, dark, chocolatey brown.

Y/n watched, stupefied, as the racer smirked, a strand of pretty blonde hair falling into his face. He shook his head a little, shaking it out of the way, before cocking a confident eyebrow at her and smirking again, his tongue darting out to briefly touch his teeth. Heat flooded Y/n's cheeks at the expression, though she knew he was mocking her, nonverbally telling her to stay out of the way.

Out of his way, most likely.

She watched as he threw his head back and laughed, though she couldn't hear it from her car. It didn't seem like the friendly type of laugh, either. More derisive and taunting. Y/n's hands clenched involuntarily on the wheel and she looked straight ahead, trying to redirect her moral compass, and focus.

This would have been so much easier if Minho was here, she thought desperately. She leant forward a little and watched with hawk-like eyes as a grid girl sashayed onto the track, holding a single, black-and-white checkered flag. Y/n's heart thudded as she watched the girl raise the flag. Y/n glanced at Chan one more time before the flag dropped.

The instant the green signal flared, they were off.

Tires screeched against asphalt as the cars launched forward, engines roaring. The blonde-haired racer's car had already disappeared round a turn as soon as the signal flare had launched, and Y/n sputtered, faltering momentarily.

How had he gotten there so fast?

Recollecting herself, Y/n's heart leapt into her throat as she slammed her foot on the gas. The adrenaline surged through her veins as the world around her blurred, the car's momentum throwing her against the seat. Jisung's car sped past her, stuck in the middle between Chan's car and her own, but she strangely found she didn't mind. Jisung seemed to have enough skill to hold his own, and Y/n was far more focused and preoccupied on beating two particular cars.

Chan’s car surged ahead at first, taking an early lead like Y/n had always seen him do, with smooth confidence and practiced ease. Y/n glanced at her rearview mirror; she could already see the blonde racer's car coming up behind her. He was so incredibly fast that Y/n put him out of her mind, instead focusing on Chan's car beside her.

Forget about the hot blonde guy, she thought. I just have to place, and beat Chan.

Chan's car was faster, smoother, and Y/n could tell that he knew the track like the back of his hand. But Y/n stayed focused, her knuckles white against the wheel, refusing to be intimidated. She could feel the power beneath her, every turn and shift of the road pushing her to test her limits, and go beyond. She gritted her teeth and wrenched the wheel, eyes laser-focused on the track ahead and the cars vying to overtake her.

The cars whipped around tight corners, engines screaming, sparks flying as their bumpers almost brushed. Y/n inched closer, narrowing the gap between her car and Chan's. Her eyes flicked to the speedometer—she was pushing her car harder than ever.

Y/n saw Chan’s engine suddenly sputter, and his car jerking violently. The reckless revving dropped, and the smooth power that was seconds ago relied on faltered. His car slowed, losing speed, and within seconds, it was clear—his car was stalling.

Y/n's eyes instinctively flickered back and forth between the track ahead and Chan's car, now dropping behind her. She could see him beat his fist against the wheel, his expression wild and glaring. Her heart hammered against her chest as she grit her teeth, wondering if she should slow down. But regaining her rationality, she cast Chan one last glance and sped past, right behind Jisung and the blonde racer. Steeling her focus, she looked ahead at the finish line, the grid girl now standing on the side of the track, waving the checkered flag.

Her hands tightened on the wheel. This is it.

The finish line was in sight, the wind whipping past her, the crowd roaring as they saw her take the lead, directly behind the blonde. She sped ahead, leaving Chan and his stalling car behind.

Seconds later, Y/n crossed the line, the rush of her first placing victory flooding through her veins. She slammed on the brakes, coming to a hard stop, her heart pounding, barely believing what had just happened.

She turned the engine off and with clammy hands, opened the door, stumbling out. Her ankles and wrists ached with the exertion and her fingers hurt, like they had been molded to the steering wheel. She made a mental note to buy gloves and loosen her grip next time.

The thought flew out of Y/n's head as a large, lean figure tackled her in a hug, her hearing muffling temporarily along with the roars from the crowd. Jisung lifted her above the ground, his hair slick with sweat, eyes crinkled as he laughed. He shrieked, jumping up and down on the spot, Y/n jolting in his arms.

"You did it!" he cheered. "Even beat me and Chan. How's that for a proper race, uh?"

Y/n smiled, letting out a tentative, wheezy laugh, struggling in his grip.

"Thank you, Jisung, but I can't breathe-"

"Oh! Oh, sorry, sorry," he placed her back on the ground, readjusting the jacket from where he'd disheveled it. He grinned at her, running a gloved hand through his hair. The haphazardly neon, overexcited crowd bustled around them, jostling and shouting. "Better?"

Y/n nodded, relieved, just as she spotted a head of messy blonde hair. Peeking behind her friend, she noticed the blonde racer pushing and brushing his way through the crowd. She blurted out a half-hearted excuse to Jisung and disappeared into the mess of people, trying to keep him in her sight.

Finally making her way through to the other side of the crowd, Y/n inhaled in a much-needed breath of cold, slightly smoky air, and glanced around hastily, her eyes settling on the racer. He was a little way away, talking to a slim, well-dressed man with a stern face. Y/n stumbled past a crowd of flamboyantly dressed young women and came up beside him, panting slightly. The well-dressed man disappeared with a glance at her, just as the blonde racer turned to face her. Y/n's breath escaped her lungs in a low whoosh.

He was beautiful.

Stuttering slightly, and feeling like a common peasant in the presence of someone so ethereally charming, Y/n found she had temporarily lost the capacity for speech. Her words finally came out in a rather pathetic, stumbling mess of fragments.

"U-um, I just- wanted to say, that-"

The racer raised an eyebrow, his expression not unfriendly nor open. More... mildly irritated and hesitantly curious at the same time. Y/n was convinced she couldn't have pulled off the expression if she tried.

His voice broke through the charged, slightly smoky atmosphere, the tone and pitch of it deep and thick and smooth like honey.

"Yes?"

Y/n's knees almost buckled. His voice was rich and accented, like Chan's but just a little bit more so. Y/n noticed his freckles again, spotting the bridge of his nose and cheeks, his eyes veiled by long, dark lashes. There was a slighter larger freckle on the smooth curve of his cheekbone, shaped a little like a heart. She fought the sudden urge to smile at the cuteness of it and awkwardly cleared her throat.

"Um, congratulations. For winning the race."

Her words came out more composed than before. Y/n silently congratulated herself on being able to form a singular coherent sentence in front of this ethereal supermodel of a human being.

"Thank you."

Y/n fidgeted, unsure of what to do. She intertwined her fingers, trying not to make things awkward. The supermodel racer simply stared at her, tilting his head slightly, before reaching out and tugging lightly on the collar of her borrowed jacket. A jolt of fire seared through Y/n at the touch, though he had made no contact with her skin. Like a static shock.

"Stealing Jisung's things, hmm?"

Y/n stuttered. "He let me me borrow it. Uhm, for the race."

"I see. Congratulations to you too. Much better since your last try."

Y/n almost choked on her saliva, the humiliating memory of her first race resurfacing in her mind. Had he been watching her?

All this time?

The racer seemed to notice her assumption, because his eyes widened infinitesimally, his hands clenching into fists. Seemingly irritated, he huffed out a breath that felt more forced than genuine.

Must be to keep up an image, Y/n thought ruefully to herself. I bet he's a softie under all of it. Like Chan. I think.

The blonde's thick, velvety voice floated through the air to her again, this time tinted in clarity and begrudging respect.

"Don't get cocky, rookie."

"Okay."

The racer simply nodded, apparently deeming the conversation finished, and brushed past her into the crowd.

Y/n watched him go.

☆★☆

The crowd was like a human barrier; Y/n was pushing and stumbling her way through, trying to get back to Jisung. Suddenly turning around, she ran directly into someone, almost falling over backwards. Panic set in her chest as she stumbled, the jostling crowd around her doing nothing to help her regain her bearings or balance.

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, bracing, just as a pair of strong arms coiled around her waist, warm and stable. Her feet caught themselves on the asphalt, and one foot hovered unsurely just above the ground. Y/n looked up at Chan.

He smiled ruefully. "Should have caught you the first time, uh?"

Y/n's heart dropped out from her ribcage, down her legs, and out of her ass. She flushed suddenly at the feeling of his arms around her waist, cheeks tingling with fire.

"Thanks," she managed to get out as Chan pulled her fully upright. He released his hold on her and Y/n's body almost followed him like a magnet, already feeling cold without his touch. A sense of bittersweet disappointment filled her stomach. She blinked, hard, before looking up at him, unsure of what to say. Was he upset he'd lost?

"Um, your car-"

"Don't worry about it," Chan's expression was unreadable.

Such a carefully constructed mask, Y/n thought. A lot like Minho's.

But where Minho's mask was gold and ivory, Chan's was silver and obsidian.

Opposites.

In every way, it seemed. Black and white. Light and dark. Like two knights from opposing kingdoms, standing for completely different things.

White knight and black knight.

Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, opening her mouth to speak. Chan beat her to it.

"I'm sorry."

What?

Y/n's dumbfounded expression must have betrayed her surprise, because Chan rolled his eyes, tapping his foot on the asphalt. He huffed, seemingly trying to steel himself, or keep his irritation in check. Knowing Chan as little as she did, she went ahead and assumed it was probably the latter.

"Just- I'm sorry. That I shouted at Minho in front of you, that I left the tuning shop so suddenly. I didn't mean to get so sentimental, just- memories, y'know?"

Y/n blinked, her capacity for speech returning from its brief holiday.

"Oh. Um- it's okay."

Chan blinked back at her, expression mildly surprised. His eyebrows shot up into his hairline, disbelieving. It was clear he hadn't been expecting to be forgiven.

"I thought you'd be pissed."

Y/n shrugged. "I was, but I let it go after a while. I forgive you. You know, if that's what you want to hear."

Chan's mouth formed a small, 'o' and Y/n's cheeks puffed up, trying to hold back a laugh.

"You look like a pufferfish," she snickered.

Chan flushed a light pink across his cheekbones and tutted once at her before hastily running a hand through his dark, sweat-slicked hair. Now that he was standing a little closer, Y/n could see the light bruising around his right eye showing through. She could see the light, careful smoothing of concealer over the sweat-sheened area and bit the inside of her cheek. A tiny patch of purple and green bloomed in faint patches at the corner of his eye, and to Y/n, it looked like it'd gotten worse since the last time they'd seen each other. Se glanced up at the racer, suddenly concerned, but decided not to say anything.

Chan suddenly opened his mouth to retort to her comment and was immediately tackled by a tornado with dirty blonde hair and a mesh shirt. He let out an oof and stumbled back a few steps, freezing as Jisung joyfully squeezed him around the middle. Chan exhaled before hesitantly patting Jisung on the back. Y/n chuckled.

"Y/n beat you," Jisung's voice was muffled, though it contained no small amount of glee.

Chan groaned. "Well spotted. Uh- you can let go now."

Jisung lifted his head from where it was buried in Chan's shoulder, and reluctantly let go, cheeks puffing out in a pout.

Y/n chuckled at her friend's antics and glanced at Chan. The crowd around her was beginning to feel suffocating.

"Let's go sit down."

☆★☆

Chan groaned as Jisung snatched his drink for the fourth time, laughing.

Y/n had dragged the both of them up into the bleachers, where they could watch the entire event without being crowded. The neon flashing lights and the screeching of the cars had dimmed, as if someone had draped a blanket over it, dulling the lights and colours and noises.

She dragged her gaze away from the arena below and turned her gaze to Jisung. He was busy scarfing down the rest of Chan's drink. Tossing it into a nearby bin, he turned to her with a cheeky grin. Chan groaned and shoved him lightly, displeased with the theft of his refreshment, sending Jisung into a fit of laughter.

Looking down at the arena again, Y/n replayed the events of the night. The blonde haired racer popped into her mind, and she turned to Jisung suddenly, curious.

"Jisung?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you, um- there's this blonde haired racer, he was next to me in the lineup. Do you maybe know who he is? He had the McLaren with the lightning strikes on it."

Jisung nodded thoughtfully. Chan was preoccupied, running calloused fingertips over the thick silver chain on his wrist. He looked up in interest just as Jisung spoke.

"Blonde hair, McLaren, lightning strikes... sounds like someone we know, huh, Chan?"

Chan rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. The night breeze blew his dark hair black, the wind running its cool fingers through the sweat-dried locks.

"Oh, we know him all right."

Jisung grinned cheekily, chuckling. "Chan hates him because he's a better racer."

"I do not. And he's not that good."

"Mhm, totally..."

"Oh, shut up, Jisung."

The younger boy laughed, holding up his hands in defence, leaning away from Chan. The shit-eating grin on Jisung's face was wiped away by a swift, sharp slap to the upside of his head. He groaned and flopped dramatically to the arena floor. Y/n, meanwhile, just blinked softly, unbothered by their antics.

"What's his name?" she asked inquisitively.

Chan huffed, stretching out his long legs in front of him before propping them up on the seat in front. His voice was gravelly.

"Lee Felix."

a/n: i planned to post this a month ago but oops. also felix introduction yay !

hello 😁 i hope u are good 🫶 can i req something pls? 🙏 i saw ur post abt protective skz with their maknae reader but what abt a protective reader? 😏 who is usually shy, but loses her temper when angry: doesn't take hate lightly, makes sure they eat and rest, unafraid of talking back, ready to fight off anyone, glaring at everyone (it would be cute, but it gets scary when she is mad mad), etc. 🤔

hi this is a cool request~ i bet the boys would have a lot of fun with a scary member who's also really cute >< here you go !!

₊✩‧₊˚౨ ot8!skz x protective fem!reader ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

pairing: ot8!skz x protective fem!reader

summary: how skz would be around a protective ninth member <3

genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, mentions of eating and drinking, chan shaking in his boots lmao

a/n: this aesthetic is so cute . . . div by @huraxy

skz masterlist

usually you're super chill

like kind of shy, really; not the type to shout or mess around like the guys do

most of the time, you're by felix or minho's side

because they're the least chaotic members of the group (most of the time anyway)

and it's just nice to be all quiet and observant from behind their shoulders

they know you're kind of shy, but oh man, wait til you get mad

even the maknaes shut up instantly when you raise your voice

bc you mean BUSINESS

doesn't matter how short you are you'll fight anyone within a certain distance

including chan (crazy right?)

who is also scared of your temper, even if it doesn't show up that often

which is why it's so terrifying when your voice booms through the studio or recording room, louder than thunder

everyone just keeps their head down and listens to you

hyung line is secretly so jealous of your commanding aura

after you're done shouting you just kind of go back to your normal shy demeanour, or leave the room

and everyone's just left shaking in their boots like

what the fuck??

you don't get angry often, and it's always for a valid reason, so they get it

stay knows that too; you've told interviewers and tv show hosts and even mnet staff to back off or stop being rude

you can make anyone listen; no one expects the shy little member to have the strongest voice

same with rude 'fans'

they don't always listen but most of them have a very healthy respect for your emotions

you're always making sure skz takes care of themselves too

especially the members who tend to overwork or get distressed easily

you always make sure to chase them up and give them something to eat

or tell them to go and drink water

or you just hold a fistful of their hair firmly (without hurting them) and watch them actually ingest food

they always give you pouty eyes but you never give in

you're just hardcore like that

and you don't let them go until they've swallowed the last mouthful

when you guys go out to eat, you're the person always heaping food on their plates

'eat eat you EAT'

bc i know these mfs forget to nourish themselves properly

so it's nice to have you take care of them

especially the younger ones

they do the same for you too, but they wouldn't dare touch your hair

they're too scared to in fear of messing it up and irritating you

the sassier ones like minho and seungmin are amazed at how much you talk back

like it's insane

chan schedules extra practice? "i don't want to, we already have so much to do"

hyunjin wants to have his vocal lesson before yours? "i scheduled mine earlier so you should have done the same"

you're just an absolute lion

sometimes you have to get told off because you're getting too sassy

but the boys can't help but take it easy on you

you're just so cute

even if you act like a demon from the underworld

oh well

but

even your gaze is scary

the boys often find themselves jumpscared

like they'll walk into a room and you're just sitting there like >:|

like an owl

you know how they have big wide eyes that stare into your soul?

your gaze is like that

felix jokes that you could burn lasers with how intense your stare is

it even looks intense when you're just sitting having a great time

in dead silence

the members don't mind though, whatever makes you happy makes them happy too !!

they get used to your little habits, and they all work around your demeanour

you're all one big happy group <3

a/n: okay maybe i wrote headcanons because i don't have the motivation nor the energy to write a full fic . . . oh well

ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @sillyseob @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627 @jsngprk-vhs @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca

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

recipe - yang jeongin

pairing: yang jeongin x reader

summary: you and jeongin try and bake something together

genre: non-idol! au, crack, domestic vibes, too much flour, disgustingly sweet fluff warning

a/n: innie... please stay out of the kitchen

The kitchen was already in chaos.

Flour dusted the countertops, and a mix of ingredients cluttered every available surface. You stood next to Jeongin, both of you staring down at the cookbook with furrowed brows. What was supposed to be a simple recipe had quickly turned into a confusing puzzle.

“Are you sure we’re supposed to add this much flour?” Jeongin asked, scratching his head as he peered into the mixing bowl. The dough looked… questionable, to say the least.

“I don’t know, but that’s what the recipe says,” you replied, unsure yourself. You flipped through the pages, hoping you had missed a step, but everything seemed to be in order—well, mostly.

Jeongin hesitated for a second before dumping more flour into the bowl. “I mean, how hard can it be, right?”

It turns out, it was much harder than either of you expected. The dough was either too sticky or too dry, and at one point, the two of you were covered in flour, laughing uncontrollably at how much of a mess you had made. The kitchen had become a battleground, with ingredients scattered like casualties.

Jeongin tried to salvage the situation by kneading the dough, but it stuck to his fingers like glue.

“Uh, I think it’s alive,” he joked, shaking his hands to try and free himself from the sticky dough. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, grabbing a towel to help him out.

“Maybe we should’ve just ordered takeout, Innie,” you teased, watching as he finally managed to get the dough off his hands.

But despite the disaster unfolding, there was something fun about it. Jeongin’s laughter was contagious, and even though the two of you were terrible at following recipes, it didn’t seem to matter. You were just enjoying the moment, trying to cook together and making memories (very messy memories).

After what felt like an eternity, you both managed to get the dough somewhat under control and into the oven. You exchanged glances, a mixture of pride and amusement on your faces as you cleaned up the flour-covered countertops.

“Next time, we’ll nail it,” Jeongin said, a playful smirk on his lips. “But I’m pretty sure this time… we’re getting cookies that taste like bread. Or worse. I'll call Chan-hyung to tell him to keep the hospital on hold. We'll probably get food poisoning.”

You grinned, swatting him, knowing he was probably right, but that wasn’t what mattered. What mattered was that the two of you had fun.

Cooking disasters and all.

a/n: jeongin should join the seunglix dorm

imagine reader and changbin going out to get some icecream and the rain gets them soaked bc dindt seem that it was gonna rain at all, and they just go all the way home laughing their ass off all wet

awww this is like a scene from a movie <3

ice cream & rain - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

summary: you and changbin get caught in the rain

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, crack, extremely fluffy, not proofread

a/n: comments, likes, reblogs appreciated <3

"Binnie, careful!"

All you get in response is a manic, high-pitched cackle from your boyfriend, who's currently skipping down the high street, narrowly avoiding poles and other mundane obstructions. He looks like a child; some onlookers glare at him, some look at him strangely, and one particular lady pulls her child away, as if Changbin is high on something dangerous and illicit.

It definitely looks like he is.

But you don't care; he's happy, and you're happy, and you laugh before running to catch up with him. Linking your hands together, you both make your way down the street, cheerful birdsong and the noises of the city swirling around both of you. Changbin slows down eventually to a walk, and his panting is audible as he leads you down a street to a familiar shop. Changbin bursts inside with a confident, self-satisfied smile, making the bell above the door jingle.

The ice creamery is filled with mismatched pastel furniture and pretty, sweet-themed decor lining the walls. The checkerboard tiles underfoot clack as you and Changbin make your way to the ice cream selections, pressing your hands to the glass like hungry children (which you both are, in a way).

The man who runs the shop tuts at you both, swatting your hands off the glass with a tea towel. He rolls his eyes playfully and walks away, and Changbin lets out another loud cackle. You and your boyfriend come here so often now that even the shop owner knows you. You smile at the familiarity of the situation, a pleasant warmth settling inside your stomach at the realisation.

"Which flavour do you want?" an excitable voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Changbin is grinning and his hands are back on the display glass. The shop owner mutters something about cleaning the glass with a haughty smile on his face, but Changbin doesn't seem to hear. He's looking at you expectantly, still grinning, eyes almost shining like the sunlight that's spilling into the little shop.

You pull an exaggerated thinking face and look back down at the assortment of colourful ice cream types and flavours. Changbin giggles and watches you with an adoring smile on your face as you pick out your favourite. He does the same and you both scuffle to pay, Changbin eventually winning and scanning his card. He smacks you lightly on the arm, whining about how 'it's my job to pay, not yours."

You put your hands up in surrender and both of you sit down, eating and laughing with each other. The sounds of your shared conversation echo and reverberate around the small space, and the sun seems to shine even brighter when Changbin offers you his hand to go home.

And then the sun disappears.

As soon as you and Changbin exit the shop, stomachs full of ice cream, the sky opens up and the clouds cluster together and suddenly you're both thrown into a midst of a storm, rain pouring down in heavy, drizzling sheets of frigid, almost numbing beads of nearly-frozen waterdrops. You shriek and Changbin flails, and for a moment you both stand there, the shock of the rain taking you both by complete and utter surprise.

Changbin breaks out of it first. Grabbing your hand, he tugs you down the street in a full-blown run before you both slow down quickly. Neither of you want to risk slipping, and even if you were both willing to run, the rain is so heavy that you can't possibly see. So you both half-jog, half-skip back down the street, shouting and laughing and shrieking at the frigidness of your current environment.

Blinking water out of your eyes, you glance at Changbin. His dark shirt is plastered to his body, face and hair slick with water. His mouth is wide open in a shriek as he accidentally splashes into a puddle, soaking him to his knees. He flaps his arms dramatically, his hand slipping and sliding against yours.

You laugh. He looks like a wet chicken.

He laughs too. Your eyelashes form wet, starlike points and you rub your fingers into them, trying to capture Changbin in your mind like a photo.

Your combined laughter swells and spills out of your bodies, seeping into the cracks of the pavement like the sheeting water. You can barely hear yourself, or him, over the thunderous din of the storm. But you couldn't care less, even if you're both soaked head to toe, and a while away from home. It's just you and Changbin in the middle of the street, in the freezing cold rain. Laughing and shrieking and flailing and being overdramatic. You scream as Changbin kicks water at you, and after you retaliate, it turns into a full-on splashing fight. You scream as a barrage of splashes come your way, wiping water out of your eyes before doing the same to your boyfriend. The sudden realisation of the consequences of your actions bring your happiness to a screeching halt. Grinning, you splash Changbin back before brushing the sensible, rational thought to the back of your mind, forgotten.

We're definitely going to get sick later.

a/n: i smiled so hard writing this

lonely st. ✧ chapter i : invisible

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)

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

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

series masterlist | skz masterlist

One.

Two.

Three.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/n, hey!"

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

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

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

"It was good," she said monotonely.

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

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

"Yeah," Yeji added.

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

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

Sangmi.

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

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

She was just so normal.

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

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

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

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

"Sorry," she said quietly.

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

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

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

Tap tap tap tap tap-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin chuckled, unfazed. "Yep."

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

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

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

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

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

Mainly because of Hyunjin.

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

Because you're really smart, Y/n!

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

"Hey, Y/n."

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

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

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

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

"Fine, but don't lose it."

Hyunjin nodded eagerly before turning away with a quick smile.

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

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

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

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

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

He couldn't believe the lie had worked.

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