Dissonance - Skz X 9th Member With Anxiety
Hi!! Could I please make a request? I was thinking of maybe a ot8 skz x 9th member reader, where the reader has anxiety and ends up having a panic attack and the members comforted the reader?
hihi anon >< i liked this request. i was actually thinking of writing another 9th member fic when this ask came in, so perfect timing ! here you go <3
dissonance - skz x 9th member with anxiety
pairing: ot8!skz x reader with anxiety
summary: you have a panic attack while performing on stage with skz.
genre: angsty, idol!au, mentions of eating, graphic descriptions of a panic attack, slight implication of sh, fluffy ending, mentions of eating, skz are sweethearts
a/n: go check out my 'skz valentines' day event special' if you haven't already >< !
You love what you do. Really. Being on stage, wearing cool outfits, doing what you love, and of course, singing and dancing and performing with eight of your best friends is the total dream.
You couldn't have asked for more.
But now that you're standing backstage, surrounded by staff members, stylists, maintenance techs, and a countless amount of other people you don't even know, you're beginning to feel a little bit overwhelmed.
You look across to where Chan is discussing something with a stylist; it's like you can barely see him because of the overloading environment, and as you watch, his image slowly splits into two. Like a hallucination.
The performance is in a few minutes, and the noise around you becomes even louder as you begin to make your way to the wings of the stage. It's darker here, at least, but the hustle and bustle doesn't end, and neither does the constant ringing in your ears.
You feel a warm hand press lightly into the small of your back and you look up to see Hyunjin gazing down at you.
"You okay?" He says, adjusting his mic. "I know it's noisy here."
You can't do anything but nod in response, not trusting yourself to speak, save you burst into tears, or rudely snap at him. You've been backstage to events like this countless times, but the overwhelm and nausea that seems to come with it never ends. It always starts to happen the moment you sit down in the dressing room to have your makeup done.
The other members gather in a group behind Chan, who's waiting at the curtain before the stage, and you, who's gripping into the velvety material with white-knuckled fingers.
It all feels too much; the coloured lights, the brightness of the stage, the jumbled, discordant noises around you, and even your own members being near you makes you want to scream. Looking at Hyunjin's face again is too much to even bear, the diamantes under his eyes shining far too bright, and the badges on his jacket feeling far too odd and icky to be fashionable.
Chan, who's turned back to count his members before going on stage, glances at you; he knows how you get with these sorts of events, and you can't bear the sight of his face either. You just want him to go away, even if he's not talking to you. A pang of irritation shoots through you as he begins to talk.
"Y/n," he says quietly, though you can barely hear him through the blood rushing through your ears. "Take a deep breath, yeah?"
He moves a little closer, a hand out to stop anyone rushing by from bumping into you. There's a heart-shaped diamante on his cheek, and suddenly you want nothing more to reach up and rip it off his face. The urge to do it is almost overwhelming.
But even if you wanted to, you can't, because suddenly Chan is shouting something and you all run out onto stage, the cheer of the crowd so deafening you can't hear anything at all, your ears buzzing. You start to move purely out of muscle memory, your subconscious forcing your to dance only due to hours of late-night practices where you repetitively drilled the routine into your bones. But it feels stiff and clunky, almost unnatural to be moving the way that you are.
You barely register singing your part; it must have been incredibly subpar, you're sure of that at least, because Minho turns to look at you a little strangely before moving to jump back into position. But you're so visibly out of breath that he seems to realise what's happening, and he takes over singing your part while you keep dancing. The white lights above you are so hot, almost searing against your skin, beating down on you relentlessly. None of the other members seem to be affected, however.
You wince and scrunch the left side of your face as you almost roll your ankle, and you swear you can feel the makeup crinkling against your skin, the unpleasant caked layer of it seeping into your pores, clogging them with impurity. You desperately reach up a hand to scratch it off, provide some relief, but all the members put their hands up as per the routine, and you do the same, so your current situation isn't immediately noticeable to anyone who's watching. You doubt you're performing at even an average level, but you can't find it in you to care, you're so out of breath.
I can't keep going-
Your clothes feel scratchy and irritating against your skin, the top just a little bit too uncomfortable, your shoes just a little too tight, and the fingerless gloves on your hands are almost too much to bear, your hands going numb. Your hair is done too strangely, the styling making your scalp feel all tight and pressured, and suddenly you can't do anything but drop to your knees in the middle of the rush and gasp, your head pounding so hard it hurts-
Too much too much too much-
Before you know it, the stage suddenly goes dark and you realise that the performance has ended. Hopefully no one saw what happened-
That hope is dashed to pieces as you're immediately swarmed by staff members, all crowding in concern. You hear Jeongin yelp as he's pushed to the side and someone else, Chan, you think, is shouting, trying to create order and get to you at the same time. The crowd is murmuring, whispering, but you can't hear them, your whole being numb and grey with searing anxiety.
The members seem to understand what's happening, though, and you look up through dark, blurry vision to see Danceracha making a barrier between you and the rest of the backstage crew with their bodies, Felix looking over his shoulder in concern. They've finally managed to get through the swarm and you collapse onto your back, simply too exhausted to do anything else despite the din of noise surrounding you like a cloud of wasps.
You feel someone's hands- Seungmin's, maybe, press themselves into your shoulders, and a spicy, warm scent fills your nostrils as you suddenly leave the earth, a prominent weight settling over your being. Chan is lifting you.
The rest of the members begin to make their way through the crowd to their designated group dressing room, you clinging to Chan's shoulders so hard you think you might leave crescent-shaped scars in the skin. But he doesn't flinch, not that you notice, since you're unable to do anything but gasp and hyperventilate. You think you might scream, but nothing leaves your lungs, and by now you've lost complete control of your breathing.
Chan sets you down in his lap once the dressing room door is shut, sitting on the couch, and Minho immediately turns the light off. Dimness floods the room and Changbin kneels in front of you, carefully slipping off your shoes and gloves while Jeongin runs his fingers through your hair, flaking out the harsh gel and returning your slightly sweaty hair to its usual state.
You gasp and keel over just as Jisung takes a hold of your hands, completely calm and in control.
"It's okay, Y/nnie," you hear him say, his voice sounding faint and faraway. "You did so well for us, just try and tune into the silence, it'll help..."
You almost forget that this is what Jisung does when he feels overwhelmed with a panic attack too; he told you once that sitting somewhere quiet helps your head to clear things up a little. He must be right, because your breathing is beginning to slow down.
You look down at your hands; you can't feel them, and they look almost alien through your buzzing panic, like they don't really belong to you. Jisung's firm yet gentle grip has left little white patches on the skin in the shape of his fingertips, the blood not flowing through your hands properly due to the hyperventilating.
Foundation gathers on the underside of your nails as you reach up and desperately try to remove all the makeup, your tears not even penetrating the thick, oily layer of cosmetic product. Diamantes come raining down and gather on your thighs just as someone gently swipes a damp, cool cloth across your cheeks, the fabric coming away the colour of your skin.
By the time all of the makeup is cleaned off, and you're sitting in nothing but the complete base layer of your outfit, your breathing has slowed down completely. You look up with red, teary eyes, your heart still pounding, and meet eyes with Chan, who's still sitting with you in his lap, one hand stroking your waist.
"I can't go back out there," you choke out.
Chan nods. "That's okay, Y/nnie. You did really well performing, okay? I think we should all just stay here a little longer until you feel somewhat better, then we'll figure out what to do, hm?"
You sniff. "I m-messed up the performance, though.."
"It's okay, Y/n," Changbin says softly from where he's sitting, his legs swung over a chair.
"Yeah," Hyunjin adds. "Don't worry."
The room is completely silent, until Seungmin pointedly gets up and moves to a stylist mirror, opening the cabinet and pulling out a packet of makeup wipes. He sits down and cleans his face, matter-of-factly, then tosses the wipes into a nearby bin. Minho moves to do the same, and undoes the clasp of his necklace, tossing all his jewelry into a shiny, clunky pile on the table without a word.
Chan nods in approval. "I think we're done here for today. Let's dress down and clean up, then go back home. I think all of us could do with some rest."
You lie down on the couch while the rest of the members change clothes and wash off their makeup in the adjoined bathroom. Everyone keeps their voices low, and the dimness of the room compared to the flashiness outside almost makes you fall asleep. That is, until Felix appears at your side, holding out a juice box and a couple of wrapped chocolates.
"Here," he says quietly. "It should help keep your sugar up until we get back to the dorms."
You sit up a little bit and accept them from him, sipping tiny little sips from the juice as Felix pats your head and leaves to clean off his makeup.
Jeongin moves to lie down next to you after a while, and Hyunjin makes little origami birds out of the chocolate wrappers while Chan finalises the group's departure from the event.
"Alright," Chan says with conviction as Jisung helps you up from the couch. The members assemble near the door, raring to go. "Let's get out of here. I've had enough of this place."
You fight a weak smile as he shoots you a wink.
I couldn't agree more.
a/n: i should really try and find images that actually match for my headers. sigh
More Posts from Moon-ttokki-x and Others
i always forget how much of a hell getting up in the morning during the cold months is until im trying to get dressed taking frost damage like ough augh ugha oagh uagh
stupidly perfect - (best friend!bang chan x reader) part 3
pairing: best friend!bang chan x reader
summary: you're greeted with an unexpected surprise that same evening. but no one said it would be pleasant . . .
genre: angsty (everyone say it with me), idol!au, mentions of injuries, blood, cuts, scrapes, mentions of first aid kits and medical supplies, slight suggestive warning (nothing intense or graphic), lots of back and forth, lots of crying, i think i missed something but this chapter is sadder than the last two combined . . . i'm not sorry
a/n: yall wanted part 3 . . . SUFFER ! ! div by @ferretmilkshakezzz
skz masterlist | skz prompt list | part one | part two
Chan is soaked.
His hair looks as if it had been styled earlier; not anymore, and the rain drips down strands of his hair and into the neckline of his tee. The white fabric clings to his skin, turning sheer under his leather jacket; its dark, smooth surface collects water in the grooves, running off the silver-clipped cuffs.
His bare skin has a thin sheen of water over it, like he'd wiped his face before knocking. He stares at you with flushed cheeks, shining wet and dark under the warm light of your porch.
"Y/n," he says cautiously. The rain thunders behind him, and you can barely hear the whisper of your name as the wind carries it into the house behind you.
You step back.
Chan doesn't move; doesn't ask to come in, or offer an explanation. He simply stands. Like he showed up at your door without a plan or anything to say. The thought pisses you off, and before you know it, you're moving to slam the door.
He presses a hand to the frame before you can shut it; the satisfying bang that was supposed to come from the slam is replaced with the dull thud of the wood smacking against Chan's hand.
He doesn't flinch.
The skin instantly turns an angry red, a raw scrape running across the top two knuckles. Your hand grips the doorknob as you watch a thick rivulet of scarlet bloom across the wound and run between the dip of his fingers, mixing with the rainwater, tinging his palm pink.
Your voice is low, but firm enough that he can still hear it over the cacophony of rain behind him. "What do you want, Chan?"
Silence. Then-
"To talk."
You glare at him, feeling your shoulders go rigid. "Bit late for that, don't you think?"
He does flinch then, from the cold tone in your voice, but he pleads anyway. "Please, Y/n. I just want to figure this out. Let me in."
You scoff and bite the inside of your cheek. The audacity. "You had time to come and see me, both when I was in hospital, and yesterday, when I came back home. Why now?"
"I-" He pauses. "I had to think things through."
You don't have a reply for that. You needed time to process things too. His reply is valid enough. And it's not like he could have texted or called you; you'd blocked him on every platform, and given the members explicit instructions not to let him contact you through them.
Wordlessly, you step aside.
Chan hesitates for a split second before toeing off his shoes and stepping inside. The door brushes his shoulder as you shut it, quieting the din from outside, and he stands there awkwardly, clearly not sure what to do. He doesn't seem to notice the injury on his hand, and blood drips onto the floor, mixing with the rainwater around his feet.
"Wait here," you say monotonely.
Leaving him standing by the door, you head upstairs to fetch a fluffy towel from the linen closet. Pausing by the landing, you spin on your heel towards your bedroom and fetch an oversized shirt and sweats from your drawers.
Chan doesn't look at you as you come back down the stairs; he's still fixed in position as you left him. There's a sizeable puddle around his feet now, tinged with pink where blood from his hand is still dripping. You thrust the towel at him and place the clothes on the back of the couch.
He takes them with a quiet nod of thanks, still not making eye contact. You watch as he pauses, clearly not wanting to trail water over your floor.
"It's fine," you sigh. "Just use the towel after."
He nods and moves to the coffee table in the midst of the living room, taking out several items; his wallet, keys, and his phone in a plastic bag, as well as a few random things like a chapstick, gum wrapper, and crumpled sticky note. Ink stains his fingers as he sets it down on the table, along with everything else.
You wonder dryly as to how he managed to remember to put his phone in a plastic bag to protect it, but somehow forgot to bring an umbrella with him.
The thought is chased away as Chan sheds his jacket. You blink as he brings his arms over his head, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He's-
Oh.
Oh.
You spin around with a squeak and your hands fly to cover your eyes. Chan doesn't remark on this; simply towels his torso down, puts on the shirt you left on the couch, and does the same for his lower half.
He's reasonably quick with it; by the time you turn around, cautiously lowering your hands from your eyes, he's dried off his hair and the water he trailed on the floor.
He folds his wet clothes, save for his leather jacket, which has dried, and places them on top of the damp towel. He stands with the items in his hands, an unspoken question hanging in the air.
"Put them in the guest bathroom," you say. There is nothing welcoming or gentle about your stance or tone. Just firm, cold instructions.
Chan wanders down the hallway and you sigh, fetching your first aid kit from the kitchen drawer. By the time he comes back, bare feet padding across the tiles, you're sat on the couch with an antiseptic wipe in your hand.
Wordlessly, he sits down beside you, keeping his distance, and lets you swipe the cold pad across his knuckles. You don't coo or utter words or sympathy as you normally would have; cleaning it briskly of the blood, you wind a soft, clean bandage around the top half on his hand and secure it at the wrist.
He flexes his hand as you tuck the empty antiseptic packet into the kit, zipping it up and pushing it to the side. Part of you feels bad, exhibiting this cold demeanour to your best friend, but the other half of you, the much louder part, says he deserves it. Not to say that it isn't partly your fault either.
Is he even your best friend anymore?
You think about yesterday night at this time, sitting with Hyunjin as he stroked fingers across your blanketed knee, cooing and talking to you gently. The air then was filled with unspoken compassion, a mature gentleness, and mutual understanding.
It is nothing like that now. The atmosphere is thick with tension.
"Are you feeling better?" Chan asks quietly.
His voice is tired, void of expectation, but you can detect a slight glimmer of hope behind his words, however short his sentences are.
"Fine," you say curtly, ignoring the stabbing guilt in your heart.
He exhales, tucking up his knees to his chest. "I wanted to come and see you, you know. In hospital."
You fix your eyes on the lamp like you did with Hyunjin yesterday. "So why didn't you?"
"I was afraid."
You fight a scoff. "Afraid of what?"
Silence. Then, "I didn't want to make you feel any worse than you already did."
You actually do scoff then, glaring at him in your peripheral. "Don't spare my feelings, Chris. If you really cared, you would have told me anyway, because the truth is what I needed. Not you avoiding me for almost two weeks because you were too afraid to face me."
He flinches at the odd use of his name, but doesn't retaliate. You can tell you've cut him with the formality, and a look of hurt clouds his eyes before he wills it away. "I'm sorry, Y/n."
"I don't care."
He sighs, running his fingers along the hem of the shirt. A stray droplet of water from his still-drying hair soaks into the fabric, blooming a damp patch on the cotton.
You exhale. "How did you even know I would be home?"
He lifts his gaze. "What?"
"How did you know I would be home when you came?"
He sheepishly scratches the back of his head. "I begged Hyunjin for his phone. The texts from him earlier earlier were from me."
A breathless, disbelieving laugh punches its way out of your chest. "So, first you avoided me, then lied to me, and now you're trying to justify lying to me again through Hyunjin."
Chan throws his hands up. "He agreed to it!"
"That doesn't make it right!" You cry.
He groans, slapping both hands onto his face. "I was a coward, okay? And I didn't want to hurt you, even though I know I already have. I just-" He sighs. "This is a mess."
"Yeah," you mutter. "It is. And I'm going to kill Hyunjin."
"Y/n, just listen," he says desperately. "I don't need you to forgive me. I need you to understand. I'm so sorry I wasn't honest with you-"
"Did you know how I felt?"
He stutters, caught out by your hasty interruption. "I- What?"
Your voice wavers and you curse it for doing so. "Did you know how I felt about you?"
"I-" He leans back again, biting the inside of his cheek. "I had suspicions after you left the restaurant that night, but I figured it might have been because of Chae-"
"Do you like her?"
"No," he says instantly. "I- She's nice and all, but- I don't know. She makes me feel off sometimes."
You scoff, crossing your arms. "So why do you talk to her? Too oblivious to see how she fawns over you?"
He groans again, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I'm not oblivious. And that's my job, Y/n. She's part of the dance crew. If I don't talk to her she starts shitting on the group and I really can't deal with another scandal or hate train, okay? I have enough on my mind."
You exhale. "Why didn't you just tell me that?"
"I thought you knew!"
"Well, I didn't," you can't keep the accusatory tone from your voice. "I told you, Chan, all I want is honesty. And if she's that much of a problem, just report it. You have that power over your crew-"
He rolls his eyes. "It doesn't work like that, Y/n. Besides you can't be calling me oblivious when you don't see the way Felix stares at you half the time-"
"What?"
"Just forget it," he scoffs. "Since you're so determined to miss my point."
You exclaim in protest. "I just wanted you to admit that you were-"
He hisses and leans back into the couch, clearly fighting with himself as he interrupts. "Alright, fine! I was wrong. I did something stupid. Okay? Happy?"
"You usually do stupid things anyway," you murmur stubbornly, looking away. It's petty, but it slips out before you can stop it, and strangely, you don't find yourself wanting to take it back.
Chan actually stands up then, running a hand agitatedly through his damp hair. "Y/n, what do you want from me? You want me to admit I was wrong? That I was always around Chae and not you? That I was too scared to come and visit when you were injured? What do you want?"
"I just wanted you to admit to me how you felt!" You cry at him, standing up too, and throw your hands out. "I never wanted any of that! I just wanted the truth about your feelings, about me..." You swipe a hand across your eyes. The backs of your hands come away salty and wet, and you sniff. "But you never listen."
Chan is silent.
His expression is bewildered, upset, the way he looked when you confessed through a haze of tears. Like you're telling him about your feelings for the first time again.
You let out a sob then, the sound bursting out from your chest. It feels ugly, unpleasant, wildly inappropriate for the context of your current situation. But you can't help it, so you screw up your face and cry with your hands at your eyes. A bit like a child.
Chan stands there and lets you cry. He doesn't move to comfort you, reason with your attitude, gently pull your hands from your face like he did so many times before.
He just stands.
You sniff and lower your hands from your face, the room blurry through your misery.
"I thought, that just maybe, you would finally feel the same after all this time, that you would realise feelings the way I did about you." You sniff again. "But you don't."
His mouth is slightly open, like he was moving to say something, but he shuts it again, expression hardening. You blink up at him, vulnerable, exposed, feeling utterly wretched.
He stares down at you, pale and strained, like he's holding himself back from saying something. The way a person who desperately wants to argue, explain, might look at someone who's just sharply told them to shut up.
A strange look takes over his face. Like he can't decide what expression he wants to make. You watch the transition, watch the warmth and softness leave his gaze. Eventually, his features settle, firm and fixed and void.
The lamp does nothing to soften the harsh edges of his words. "You're right, Y/n." His tone has gone numb, uttering out a dark, resigned finality into the lamplight. It's strangely peaceful. "I never felt the same way. I don't believe I ever will."
There's a cold whirl of air, a scuffle, and you flinch as the door then slams shut. Cold, frosty air from outside swirls around the living room.
Unable to process anything, your gaze wanders numbly to the table.
The items he set out on the table earlier are still there, save for his phone, wallet, and keys. His shoes by the door are gone. You let your eyes drift wordlessly to the couch, where Chan had been sitting not even five minutes before. Outside, the rain continues to thunder down relentlessly.
He never even bothered to take his jacket.
a/n: i don't feel like writing a part 4 tbh i just wanna be lazy (can someone else write it please :3 )
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hiiii! i know you’re probably rlly busy with requests but i had an ideaaa
9th member reader who is in a secret relationship with jeongin and the other members are slowly like catching them doing couple-y things or something along the lines of that??
sorry if i didn’t word it right 😭
hihi~ i liked this idea but i wasn't sure how to set it all out... i wanted it to be short and sweet, don't know if i succeeded >< glad i got an innie request, he needed more fics . i just did the members catching on after a short while to make it simpler . here you goooo~~
that's true - (secret bf!yang jeongin x reader)
pairing: secret bf!yang jeongin x reader
summary: when the rest of skz finds out you and jeongin are dating, how will they react?
genre: fluffy to the max, idol! au, skz little shit strong agenda, slightly suggestive, this has no plotline whatsoever i'm sorry
a/n: div by @mikeykuns
skz masterlist
Jeongin groans as he stretches himself out on the bed, almost vibrating with the force of his extension. He bangs his fist on the headboard and you laugh as he whines, burrowing into the sheets.
"Don't laugh," he mutters, though a fond smile graces his fox-like features. "It's been so long since I had a night off."
You nod sympathetically and flop down on the sheets next to him. "Feels strange to not be rushing you off anywhere. You know, since you're always late-"
"No, I'm not!" He interrupts indignantly, sending you into a fit of giggles. "I just forget how quickly time passes sometimes. And at least I have you to tell me when I have stuff to do."
Jeongin's room is dark, the only source of light coming from the pinkish-gold glow of the triangular LEDs above his bed. They're exactly the same as the ones in Chan's bedroom, and not for the first time do you fight the urge to coddle Jeongin for his love of matching items.
You're both sprawled out silently on his bed, the spread ruffled and messy, and Jeongin's eyes are fixed on the closed and locked door. You know it's because he's afraid Chan will try to come in; none of the boys know you're dating each other yet, and you try and shake off the feeling that you're doing something wrong.
After all, you were their ninth member; some would call it a workplace romance, others a scandal. The youngest member of a kpop boy group and a newly added ninth member falling for each other was definitely something that the press would have loved to sink their teeth into. But you've managed to keep it a secret from seven of the nosiest people on earth, so you render the relationship secret and safe for the time being.
And, no matter how anyone else saw it, you thought it fate. Ending up with Jeongin was the best outcome in your view, with you always feeling so loved and warm around him, a bit like a cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter's day. You never went unappreciated, and in turn, he'd dedicated himself with even more fervor to his responsibilities, flushed with energy that came directly from your love. You couldn't have been any prouder.
Keeping it a secret, though, had come with its challenges; you often felt like a spy, having to run rings around the boys and duck out of sight whenever one of them appeared. You felt bad for a little while before realising that it was probably for the best; they would have a field day teasing their maknae if they found out you were dating.
You brush those thoughts aside momentarily as you look across to where your lover is silently staring up at the ceiling, no doubt relishing the quiet comfort of a night in, with no duties or events to rush off to.
"Innie," you say softly.
He responds with a quiet hum, eyes closed.
He must be exhausted, you think. The group had such a busy day; Chan had stayed late at the studio to finish yet another song track, so you'd taken the opportunity to be with Jeongin while you could.
You lean up on one elbow and survey his face; bare, the tiny marks and scars on his skin making him look more beautiful than any cosmetic ever could. You lightly touch the little scar on his jawbone, feeling the slightly raised scar tissue, the dry smoothness of the skin around it, so delicate where the hair starts to grow in tiny, soft waves.
His hair is messy, splayed out against the sheets, a bit like when he wakes up and looks a bit like a lion, his hair sticking out in all directions. You hope against hope that none of the boys will try to burst in and interrupt this precious, silent moment between you.
He's almost fast asleep already, so you lean down and press a chaste kiss to his slightly chapped lips, stroking the soft hair out of his face. Laying down next to him, you peek up to check the door is locked before falling into a heavy, inviting sleep.
.
The second you wake up, you throw off Jeongin's arm, which is laying heavily across your middle. Checking the time, you smooth back your hair and shake the fox-like boy awake.
"Innie," you hiss. "Chan will be back by now. Wake up."
"Oof," he responds.
You sigh and quickly straighten out your appearance in the mirror, slipping on your jacket and then tiptoeing to the door to check for noises. This isn't the first time you've had to sneak out of his room. Hearing nothing, you sigh and soak in the welcoming sunlight streaming from the window, before moving to shake Jeongin awake once more.
"Innie, come on."
"I'm up, I'm up," he groans. "Chan-hyung will probably still be at the studio... he always works til the morning..."
"I gotta go, then," you say, checking your watch. Ten minutes til you have to head down to the studio for a Tiktok video filming. "See you later."
You can barely hear his sad, murmured goodbye as you head out the door.
.
"Sleep well, Y/n?" Felix asks as he runs through the dance steps again.
You nod, side-eyeing him in suspicion. Does he know about you and Jeongin? "Yeah, thanks. I fell asleep in Jeongin's room."
"Not the first time you've done that," Hyunjin laughs. It's no secret that you would often head to the Jeongchan dorm for some better shut-eye; somehow, being in Jeongin's room always helped. And it was the perfect excuse to be with him too, away from prying eyes and unwanted interruptions.
You've all been at the studio for around two hours now; the boys are beginning to get tired of rehearsing the comeback routines, but after an insistent Seungmin begging for a break, Chan finally gives in and allows the boys and you a moment of respite.
You sigh and flop down against the wall, eyes tracking Jeongin across the room. He's taking swigs of water and fanning himself; no doubt sweaty from the dance exertion.
"Y/n," Chan says from above you.
"Hey," you say, not bothering to look at him. "Need something?"
"Actually, yes," he moves to sit down next to you, stretching out his legs in front of him. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
You turn to look at him them, expression betraying nothing. "No," you say cautiously. "Why?"
He holds up your phone between two fingers, an eyebrow raised in a pointed expression. Hyunjin and Jisung snicker from behind one of the couches lining the back wall.
"Where'd you find that?" You glower at him, knowing you've been caught.
He chuckles. "Wasn't a secret, Y/n. You slept in Jeongin's room last night, didn't you?"
You shrug, holding onto a shred of hope that he somehow still doesn't know. "So? I fall asleep there all the time."
"Seems a little strange considering the fact you have a perfectly good dorm of your own," he replies without missing a beat. "Minho and Jisung hardly see you anymore. Your shelves in your room are dusty as hell at this point. Why Jeongin's room?"
You shrug, looking at your faraway reflection in the mirrors. "He's my friend, and it's easier to sleep when he's near me."
"Right," Chan drawls, tossing your phone onto your lap. "Because it's perfectly normal for you and Jeongin, friends, to be sleeping in the same room, on the same bed."
"So? You and Felix do the same thing."
Chan makes an exasperated noise. "Just admit you're dating each other. I already got Jeongin to spill."
You choke on your tongue then, spluttering in disbelief. Hyunjin dissolves into cackles. "What?"
"Yep," he replies, remorseless. "Made him admit it without trying. It wasn't hard when he's always looking at you so lovestruck."
You scoff and look away. "It's none of your business anyhow."
Chan puts a hand on your shoulder as Jisung makes a dirty comment in the background. "It's okay if you're dating him, Y/n. Just- there are some things that shouldn't get too public, you know? For safety reasons."
You sit up, indignant. "But we're keeping it quiet, I swear. None of you even knew til a week ago."
He nods just as you shoot an accusatory glare at Jeongin across the room, silently betrayed. "That's true, Y/n, but just be careful. Congratulations, anyway."
You sigh just as Jeongin sheepishly comes over, bowing half-heartedly to you as he settles against your legs. "Sorry, Y/nnie."
"It's okay," you whisper. "They were gonna find out anyway."
"Chan-hyung is a detective," he says honestly. You laugh and stroke his slightly damp hair.
"Oh, and just a note," Chan coughs awkwardly. "Jisung overheard me telling Felix about it and now the whole group knows..."
"Took you two lovebirds long enough," Minho calls snidely from the other side of the room, Seungmin snickering beside him.
Hyunjin interrupts. "How long have you two been dating in secret anyway?"
You look up at the ceiling, thinking. "Maybe two months?"
"Two months!" He screeches, flailing and almost hitting Changbin in the face.
"Get them married already," Jisung rolls his eyes, giggling.
You groan and bury your face in your hands, fighting a smile.
"We kinda asked for the teasing, to be honest," Jeongin whispers.
"Yeah," you say, resigned and affectionate. "That's true."
a/n: my sweet sweet innie
hellaur! i'm pretty new here on tumblr and i was wondering if you wanted to be moots...i've been lowk stalking your writing for a while hehehe and ermm yeah!
hi this is the cutest thing i've ever seen in my inbox . . . ye being new always feels strange, at least it did for me, but sweets, you'll fit right into the community <3
i'm gonna take the blog-stalking as a compliment lol, and sure if you want to be moots then why not. i'm ttokki . what do i call you ?
hello. 😊 if it's not a bother, could i please request stray kids celebrating their 9th member’s birthday with her (please leave her age unspecified)? 🥰 no pressure, it's okay if you don't do this! 🤗
hiyoooo this was such a cute request . . . i didn't do a traditional fic bc i know everyone likes to celebrate differently >< i'm def more a lowkey type of person but i know others who like to go all out <3 here you goooo
skz and celebrating their 9th member's birthday
pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader
summary: how skz would celebrate your birthday !
genre: fluff, idol! au, chaotic skz, reader celebrates their birthday, age left unspecified (though they're the youngest of the group), cute innie, big brother skz agenda all the way, mentions of forehead kisses, mentions of eating, mentions of chan's back pain
a/n: happy birthday to anyone who's celebrating lol
skz masterlist
so how skz celebrates your birthday definitely depends on whether you're a big, grand gesture sort of person or not
if you are
then expect half the company to be there at the party
or a big fancy event in one of the halls
lots and lots of singing and dancing, if your birthday happens to fall on a skz concert date, they'll definitely perform 'happy birthday' and sing one of your favourite songs
lots of gifts
i mean lots
they could be the most random things too
we all know how leeknow gifts things
so expect anything from a new nachimbong to a cucumber
skz would def be the type of people to surprise you at the dorms too, with a whole massive spread of food and sweets
felix would def be baking for you too
and there'd be a cake in your favourite colour with your name written on slightly messy icing on the top
when you look closer you notice your name is spelt wrong
jeongin excitedly points out that he wrote your name on the top and you kiss his forehead anyway in thanks
bc he's cute and you would never point out the fact that he spelt his only younger member's name wrong
oh well
you appreciate the gesture anyway
then it's gifts
most of them are good and you love them
but there's a select few that make you laugh
like a matching horse mask from jisung or a singular messed-up paintbrush from hyunjin
you keep them anyway for the memories
(and make a mental note to scare chan with the horse mask later, alongside jisung, who already has one of his own)
shhh !!
then it's opening the cards from each member
again, super cute messages from the members, aside from seungmin's card
he's just written in sparkly blue gel pen 'you survived another year'
'good job'
and that's it
slightly menacing but you thank him for it anyway, watching him grin as you place it down
and then it'd be a night out at the mall or the arcade
or anywhere you want to go
expect to be spoilt by your eight older brothers
they spare no expense to make you happy
whether you choose to take advantage of that or not is up to you
changbin or chan would def let you climb on their back as a once-off
and they'd carry you through the streets while you giggle in their ear
changbin doesn't even feel you
while chan is wishing he'd stretched his back earlier
you all end up falling asleep in a heap as soon as you guys get back to the dorms
no one has bothered to undress either so you all wake up looking like you did the night before
if you're not a grand gesture sort of person
or you just get a little shy on your birthday
skz will def be a little more lowkey
some of the members, especially the maknaes, don't really understand why you don't want to go all out for it
but they try to make you happy anyway
personally i feel like they wouldn't make too much of a fuss in fear of upsetting you
so you'd wake up as per normal and go to the kitchen
and minho has cooked breakfast for you
your fav obviously
and the other members just kind of go about their business and wish you a happy birthday
chan def stops to kiss the crown of your head bc you're like his little sibling and felix does the same
bc he's sweet like that
your day then goes as per normal
maybe with a lot less schedules and practices bc no one wants to do work on their birthday
unless you're super productive i guess
but yeah
and then you get home and walk into the living room
the boys have set up a blanket fort and a mess of cushions and pillows on the lounges
netflix is already loaded on the screen and chan and hyunjin have ordered takeout for everyone
so you all dress down into comfy clothes and pyjamas and sit and eat while watching a movie
your pick ofc
they do bake you a cake, or buy one for you if you're not into that
but they don't sing happy birthday bc they don't want to embarrass you
the maknaes def try and burst into off-tune song
you just let them bc it's funny
'you guys are literally singers how do you massacre 'happy birthday'...'
anyway
you all fall asleep in a heap with frosting-flavoured lips and sticky fingers
when you end up waking up, you decide to go to your bedroom
there's gifts from all the members on the bed and cards too
which makes you tear up
bc they were considerate enough to determine that you might be uncomfortable opening them in front of everyone
you make sure to thank them all the next day
skz loves you so much and will do anything to see you happy <3
a/n: i want cake now
lonely st. ✧ chapter iv : falling
pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)
warnings: lonely reader, school!au, hyunjin's knees are finally healing, someone else is kinda mean to y/n, swearing, descriptions of panic attacks and forced isolation, hyunjin is the sweetest softest boy ever
a/n: ...this took a while
series masterlist | skz masterlist
"Yah, Hyunjin, what the fuck did you do to your knees?"
Hyunjin looked across at Jisung, pulling his basketball jersey on.
"Oh," he said calmly. "I fell."
Jisung tutted at him, waggling a finger in Hyunjin's face. They were the last three boys in the changing rooms, having been split into smaller teams for longer, more individualized training. Felix watched the interaction with interest, piping up.
"You fall over a lot, you know," he observed. "Surprisingly often for the school's star basketball player."
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, turning back to his locker, tying the cords of his shorts. His gaze flitted down to his knees, where he'd stuck the bandaids Y/n had given him. They were quite sticky considering the designs; Hyunjin had seen Jisung buy colourful bandaids that didn't last more than ten minutes.
Two of the bandages were stuck to his left knee, one yellow with a smiley face across it, and the other solid stripes of light pink and purple, like a Cheshire cat. The one on his right knee was lime green, with solid black writing that detailed 'I'M OKAY' in wobbly writing. He loved them so much.
The fourth bandaid he'd stuck to his face, replacing the little chicken one that had peeled off. It was white, with a little pink and black spider in the middle, his favourite one so far. Truthfully, the little cut on his cheekbone had practically healed by now and didn't need anything covering it, but Hyunjin liked wearing the bandaids. It made him feel connected to Y/n, and he felt brighter somehow, as if he was one of her colourful keychains or pins.
Shaking his head, he turned back to Jisung and Felix with a smile. "Just a clumsy spell, I guess. It should heal before the championship."
Felix side-eyed him from his own locker. "It better. Jisung is hopeless on offense-"
"I'm not!"
Hyunjin let a small laugh escape his mouth. He looked across at his friends, neatly folding his uniform and placing it neatly on the shelf. He paused in his actions.
Jisung was holding his shirt above Felix's head, clearly attempting to hit him, the other boy's arms braced against his temples. They were both frozen, staring at Hyunjin with gaping mouths.
Hyunjin blinked, cutting himself off. "You know, I- what?"
Jisung whispered. "You laughed."
Hyunjin frowned. "What? Is it illegal now?"
Felix scrambled up from his position. "No, no, it's just- you've been so downcast lately. We thought something was really wrong."
Jisung chimed in. "Yeah. First it was the falling over at practice, then the being distracted during class. We were pretty worried, dude."
Hyunjin felt a little guilty at having worried his friends. His cheeks flushed and the bandaids on his knees and face suddenly felt like burning beacons. Jisung had promised not to tell anyone about his attempts to befriend Y/n, but he hadn't approved or disapproved of it. And Felix was a close friend too, but Hyunjin felt there would always be a possibility that they might not like it. Either that, or they would think he liked her. Most likely the second option.
His voice was quiet as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. "I just felt stressed the last few days. I've just had a lot to do."
Felix's eyes narrowed. "You're literally never busy...?"
Panic set into Hyunjin's gut, frantic and buzzing. He stuttered a little, trying to come up with a quick lie to fool his friend.
"It's because of Y/n," Jisung blurted out suddenly.
Hyunjin threw his hands up in exasperation. "Jisung! I told you not to say anything!"
Felix's eyes bounced between them. He walked closer to Hyunjin, his gaze confused. "Y/n? You mean the weird loner girl in our class? The one who always disappears at breaktimes?"
"She's not weird," Hyunjin snapped at him, voice echoing in the locker room.
Felix's eyes widened a little, clearly taken aback. Jisung shut his mouth immediately, his friend's unusual outburst blanketing the room in a thick, heavy silence.
"You don't have to be such a jerk, Felix," Hyunjin flared at him again, well aware of the nastiness in his voice.
"Alright, man. Sorry."
Felix's voice was quiet, subdued, and Hyunjin felt a rush of remorse settle heavily in his stomach, the feeling sour in his mouth. He exhaled and sat down on the bench, leaning his elbows on his knees.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Just- she's not weird."
Felix gingerly sat down next to him. He was shirtless, having been halfway through taping his shoulder, and Hyunjin could feel the heat radiating off his skin. Felix placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as Jisung moved to sit down on his other side.
"I didn't mean it, Hyunjin," Felix's voice was soft, almost a whisper.
Hyunjin exhaled, running a hand through his dark, sleek hair. "It's fine. Just- she's not mean and intense and cold like everyone thinks she is. She gave me the chicken bandaid after I fell that time at practice, and all of these too." He gestured to his knees.
"I was wondering where you got those from," Felix chuckled, touching the one on his friend's face. "They're cute. Did you ask her for them?"
"No," Hyunjin replied softly, the ghost of a smile on his face. "She noticed both times and gave them to me. Felix, you don't understand, she's really sweet. Maybe a bit shy and awkward, but not cold. Not at all."
Felix smiled across at Jisung as Hyunjin talked. Jisung pouted cutely, pressing a hand discreetly to his heart in an 'aww' gesture.
"I wonder if she carries them around," Jisung said thoughtfully. "Maybe she's clumsy just like you, Hyunjin."
Hyunjin nodded silently in response. Now that he thought of it, he couldn't actually recall seeing her wear any of the colourful bandaids, not even on her hands or under the hem of her skirt. He wondered what she could possibly need them for.
Jisung leaned his head against Hyunjin's shoulder as Felix spoke up.
"Are you gonna get mad at me if I ask if you maybe, possibly, sort of like her?"
Hyunjin shook his head. "No, I don't. But there's no harm in being her friend. I don't know her that well, like, at all, but if I can make her life a little easier, then I should."
Jisung smiled. "That's sweet, dude. Maybe, once you get closer with her, we could start talking to her too."
Felix grinned, agreeing.
"Thanks," Hyunjin said softly. "I'm just going to be cautious around her from now on because I don't want to scare her off again. But maybe, once she opens up a little bit."
Jisung stood up, slapping his friend on the back. "Alright, that's settled, then. Let's go out to practice now. Oh, and Hyunjin, don't worry us like that again, man... It was weird not hearing your 1000 decibel laugh."
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, Felix snickering in the background.
"Don't worry," he said. "I won't."
Y/n kept her head down as she weaved throughout the students laughing and shouting in the hallways. The corridors were always busiest at lunchtimes. She ducked her head to avoid a tall senior who was wildly gesturing his arms in an animated retelling to his friend.
Looking behind her to make sure she wasn't about to get hit in the head, Y/n came up short just as she almost bumped headlong into Yeji. Her heart sank.
"Hey!" she greeted, smiling. "Haven't seen you in a while."
Y/n's fingers tightened around her sketchbook, fingers digging into the smooth, sticker-bombed surface. She gulped, palms beginning to sweat as she stared at Yeji. She'd been friends with her for almost three years, and there were not grudges between them, but for some reason Y/n found she couldn't reply.
"Um, yeah," she replied rather stiffly.
Yeji tilted her head, waving a hand in Y/n's face. "Helloooo? Anyone home?" She giggled.
Y/n flinched as Yeji's perfectly manicured hand waved in her face. She felt a searing pang of frustration and irritation shoot through her. Stepping back, she clutched her sketchbook to her chest, not knowing how to get out of the situation. The air around her suddenly felt hotter, and her shoulders were tense, like stretched rubber bands.
"Hey, Y/n!"
Y/n let out a tiny, gasping breath as Hyunjin jogged up to them. His hair was mussed and slightly slick, his tie loose and shirtsleeves rolled up messily. He must have come straight from playing basketball on the courts. Y/n saw Yeji subconsciously reach up to fix her hair, drawing a pale, pretty hand through the dark orange locks, pressing her lips together to even out the sparkly pink gloss smeared across them.
But Hyunjin paid her no mind, his smile directing its force towards Y/n. She noticed a textbook under his arm.
He tilted his head at her, inviting. "Did you wanna go to the library?"
Y/n was taken aback. There was a look in Hyunjin's eyes, some sort of layer to them that Y/n had never seen before. They were sort of slitted, his eyebrows slightly raised.
He's trying to get me out of the situation, she realised.
"S-sure," she stuttered, cursing herself inwardly.
Hyunjin gave Yeji an effortless smile and gestured for Y/n to walk alongside him. Yeji's smile dropped as he walked a few paces past her to Y/n.
Dropping her head, Y/n shuffled to him and he began to make casual, friendly conversation as they walked down the hallway. clearly attempting to distract her.
Yeji glared after them.
Hyunjin glanced across at Y/n as she slumped down into her usual seat, the table hidden from the rest of the library by the tall, slightly dusty shelves. He sat down delicately next to her, shuffling his chair a little bit away from her so as to give her space.
Her head was down on the desk and Hyunjin sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, wondering if he'd messed things up. But she hadn't looked exactly comfortable when he'd seen her talking to Yeji. He'd calmly observed from a distance, until Yeji had waved her hand in Y/n's face.
He knew she probably meant no harm, but it was clear that Y/n was beginning to panic after she flinched, so he had jogged up to her to try and give her an excuse to leave.
Hyunjin wondered if Y/n and Yeji were really friends. He'd seen them together a few times, talking, usually in a group with Ha-eun, Aeri, and Sangmi, but for some reason Y/n always seemed like she wasn't enjoying herself, usually quietly listening to the others talk excitedly or with her face buried in her sketchbook.
Hyunjin frowned a little, running his fingertips along the side of his closed textbook. If she had friends, why did she choose to be alone? Were they bullying her?
"Hey," he whispered. "You okay?"
He could hear tiny, short gasps coming from her side of the table and he fidgeted desperately, not sure what to do. He was pretty sure she was panicking. He'd heard Jisung do the same thing a couple times, usually after really important basketball matches. But he didn't understand why it happened, or what it was. Jisung kept it quiet, and Hyunjin didn't wish to intrude, so he'd patted his friend on the back and fetched his coach.
Then he had left.
You can't do that to Y/n, Hyunjin thought. I can't leave her, but I'm afraid if I stay, I might make it worse.
He scooted his chair just a tiny bit closer, keeping note of her breathing. His hand hovered unsurely over her back, wanting to offer some sort of comfort. Jisung had told him that different people liked to be comforted in different ways. He wondered how Y/n preferred to be treated when she was upset. He made a mental note to ask her later.
Leaning down to her level, Hyunjin placed one arm on the table, turning his head towards her. He exhaled and the warm breath stirred Y/n's hair. She didn't move. Hyunjin could see one hand pressed to her mouth, covering it. The other was hidden by her blazer lapel, pressed against her chest. Her knee was bouncing up and down rapidly and Hyunjin bit his lip, reaching out a feather-light hand to gently still it. Her knee stopped bouncing.
Hyunjin whispered to her worriedly. "Y/n, are you sick?"
A slight shake of the head. Hyunjin looked around for someone who could help, but he couldn't see past the library shelves. He stood up slowly, bending down to whisper to her.
"I'm gonna go find someone, okay?" He told her determinedly. "They can help-"
"No," she whimpered, almost inaudibly.
Hyunjin's eyes widened. Sitting down again, he leant close to her. Her hand, much smaller than his, moved to grip his wrist. It didn't even go all the way round. Hyunjin blinked, taken aback, but Y/n's tiny, hiccupping voice directed his attention to her instantly.
"Don't leave me," she gasped, a tiny sob leaving her mouth. Her head was still down on the desk. "Hyunjin, don't go, please-"
Hyunjin's brow creased in worry and he couldn't hold himself back any longer. Placing a gentle arm around her, he shuffled closer and leaned his head on the table next to hers.
"It's okay," he said as comfortingly as he could. "I won't leave. Just try and breathe, okay?"
He suddenly became aware that telling her to breathe wasn't really helpful advice, but he didn't know what else to do. What were you supposed to do when things like this happened? Was he supposed to stay? What was he supposed to say to her?
Tears pricked at the corners of Hyunjin's eyes.
Help her, Hyunjin. Do something.
Not knowing what else to do, he quietly began telling her about his day. About how he had to do his homework while the teacher was collecting it because basketball practice ran late last night and he didn't have time. About how he had seen Jisung, his friend, inhale half his food the second the bell went so he could go talk to a girl he liked from his English class.
"They spent literally the whole first breaktime flirting," he told her quietly. "My friend Felix had to grab him by his collar because we all share a class. Jisung always makes us late."
Hyunjin fought a relieved smile as he saw Y/n turn her head just a little, indicating she was listening. Her breathing was evening out and Hyunjin kept talking in a low, reassuring voice until he was positive she had calmed down completely.
"We had practice again this morning, and championships are soon, so we got split up into teams. Coach also told me after practice that he liked my bandaids. See?"
Y/n turned her head a little more as he shuffled back in his chair, facing his legs towards her. He pointed to the lime green one on his right knee, with the 'I'M OKAY' wobbly black writing.
"That one's my favourite," he said softly, sincerely. He pointed to the pink and purple striped one. "And this one reminds me of you, because it's like your bag, all these cool, colourful pins and keyrings."
He tapped his cheek, where the white bandaid with the pink and black spider symbol was stuck. "This one's my favourite, so I put it on my cheek. The cut's actually healed now, but I like it. I feel all decorated."
Y/n lifted her head slightly, a tiny sniff coming from her. He still couldn't see her face, so he brought his arm up a little, giving her comfort. He knew people didn't like to be seen crying.
"Hey," he whispered to her sincerely. "Are you feeling a little bit better?"
She nodded, lifting her head. There were tear stains down her cheeks, and her nose and eyes were red. Hyunjin dug in his pocket and produced a tissue, handing it to her. He always carried them around, finding them useful at random times, but he'd been secretly keeping one in his pocket in case his new friend needed it.
He silently congratulated himself as Y/n took the tissue with a tiny nod of thanks.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Hyunjin met her eyes with a soft, worried gaze. "Why would you be sorry?"
"I wasted your time and now you have to sit here with me while I be a drama queen and cry-"
Hyunjin cut her off determinedly. "No, Y/n... I saw you were uncomfortable, and I did it because of that, but also..." His cheeks flushed, feeling warm. "I wanted to spend time with you." He finished quietly, admitting.
Y/n's gaze flitted to him, confused. She sniffed. "Why?"
He smiled back, a little embarrassed, but intent on telling her his intentions.
"It's actually really nice here. Besides, sometimes I don't feel like hanging out with my friends Jisung and Felix, or playing basketball, or talking at all, to be honest. Especially when I'm tired. But I always did it anyway because I didn't have anywhere else to go during lunchtimes."
He poked her shoulder gently, smiling. "And now I do, and I've got a new friend to do it with as well. Or classmate, who likes talking to me... At least I hope you do."
Y/n looked anywhere but him, feeling that strange, warm feeling settle in her stomach again. For some unknown reason it only happened around the dark-haired basketballer.
Hyunjin let out a little cheer of joy just as a tiny, reluctant smile cracked Y/n's mask.
Felix turned to Hyunjin as they walked down the little path leading to the bus stop. Jisung was walking ahead, seemingly in a better mood than usual; for Felix and Hyunjin, that meant supervising him while he bounced off the walls and stole random leaves off the trees on the sidewalk.
Felix huffed and called out a warning to Jisung who had almost tripped up ahead, before turning to Hyunjin.
"You catching the bus with us today?"
Hyunjin shook his head. "I found out that me and Y/n pretty much live really close, and we both go down the same street, so I asked her to walk with me like I did yesterday."
Felix grinned. "Seems like she's coming around."
"I hope so," he said quietly. "Sorry about leaving you with Jisung. I think he had one of those sugary energy drinks earlier between classes."
Felix rolled his eyes. "I'll be lucky if I get him onto the bus without him tripping and starting a fire of some sort."
Hyunjin laughed and squeezed his friend's arm just as the bus rolled up. He waited until Felix and Jisung had both entered and sat down, then he began turning and walking back the way he'd came. He'd asked Y/n to come with him while he walked his friends to the bus stop, but she had shyly declined, shaking her head before he had even finished his question. She seemed avoidant of being around large groups of people, Hyunjin observed.
She'd settled to wait at the school gates while he had walked the short distance to the bus stop. Looking up, she noticed Hyunjin approaching with a smile.
"Hey," he greeted. "Thanks for waiting for me."
Y/n nodded and they began to walk in silence. Hyunjin kept up a constant stream of cheerful chatter as they walked, skipping over stones. They passed the spot where Hyunjin had fallen and scraped his knees, and Y/n took his arm cautiously, eliciting a small, affectionate smile from the boy.
Reaching the willow tree, Hyunjin rounded the corner, gesturing for Y/n to follow him with a smile. She tilted her head in confusion.
"Let's go for a while longer, down to the shops," he told her. He hurriedly corrected himself at her expression. "Y-you don't have to. If you want to, though...? It doesn't have to be for long-"
Y/n nodded solemnly. "Okay."
Hyunjin let out a breath of relief as they continued walking. It felt new and different walking past the usual route to his house. He glanced sideways at Y/n, who was busy looking up at the sky. He let one of his hands fall from his pocket and dangle at his side so he could catch her just in case she fell. Looking down at the pavement as they walked towards the shops, he let his other hand fall from his pocket too, mistrusting his own steps, though he was being as careful as he could.
He had enough bandaids on his body already.
Y/n's phone buzzed. Setting her sketchbook down, and slightly jarred at the interruption, she crawled across the bed and picked it up from the bedside. Turning the screen on, and hissing at the brightness, she slammed it down on the pillow.
Staying up late at night was one of Y/n's favourite things to do. It was the reason her eyes were always dark and strained, but the night brought a peace and serenity the daylight could never give her. She'd been sketching in her pad by the light of a little pocket torch when her phone had gone off.
Sighing and turning the torch off, she squeezed her eyes shut tight, adjusting them, before picking up her phone once more. Swiping into her home screen, she noticed several message notifications. Her heart jolted unpleasantly.
It was none other than Yeji. The last message had been sent a minute ago.
yeji 🌷: you up?
Y/n gulped before texting back.
y/n ⛓️: yeah y/n ⛓️: what's wrong? it's late yeji 🌷: i was just wondering something... i couldn't sleep so i thought i'd ask you anyway. sorry if i woke you y/n ⛓️: no, it's okay. what is it? yeji 🌷: today, when we were talking... you and hyunjin yeji 🌷: are you dating him?
Y/n buried her face in her pillow, letting out a muffled groan. She knew this was bound to happen. Not that she didn't appreciate Hyunjin's help for getting her out of the situation. She had no clue why she had become so upset when she'd run into Yeji. Maybe it was the fact that Yeji was smart, pretty, funny, loved by most of the girls in their grade. She was just so normal.
Y/n was well aware that she had no reason to really hate Yeji. After all, they were friends.
Then why did Yeji irritate her so much?
y/n ⛓️: what makes you say that? yeji 🌷: you guys have been hanging out a lot lately... yeji 🌷: i didn't think he would be into someone like you
Y/n frowned, turning the screen off suddenly. What did she mean, 'someone like her'? Someone as quiet or lonely as she was? Someone who was the outcast of the school?
She turned the screen back on, flicking into the messages.
y/n ⛓️: we're not dating yeji 🌷: then why does he keep talking to you? y/n ⛓️: because he's my friend, and he's in most of my classes too. why? yeji 🌷: just wondering, haha
Huffing, Y/n glared at Yeji's reply message. Just wondering, totally. Anticipating an argument building, Y/n exhaled before typing out a final message.
y/n ⛓️: my phone's about to die. sorry.
Then she turned it off.
Hyunjin absentmindedly tossed his basketball between his hands, watching as the sunlight cast patterns across the vibrant orange material. It was pretty early, with some students milling through the halls, but mostly the corridors were empty. Basketball practice had finished pretty early that morning. His knees were healing well, and he was feeling ready and prepared for the upcoming championship matches.
Jisung and Felix had stayed behind to run some training drills. Hyunjin knew that 'training drills' meant messing around and trying to hang from the hoops by their arms while their coach wasn't there. He appreciated the opportunity to quietly walk by himself nonetheless, smiling as he thought of the way Jisung would excitedly tell him about the morning's antics in form class.
Turning a corner, he ran directly into someone, dropping the basketball in surprise.
"Yeji," he said, blinking. "Sorry, I didn't see you."
She grinned at him, teasing. "Am I that short, Mr. Hwang?"
Hyunjin chuckled. Him and Yeji were somewhat close, having been in the same inner circle of their old friend group before it had eventually split. Hyunjin went with the boys on his basketball team and Yeji stuck with the other girls, some of which he'd seen with Y/n. Or around her, to be more specific. They usually ignored her, chatting excitedly, while she was left in the dust. Maybe they thought that there was no need to talk to her unless she talked first. The thought made his fingers tighten around the basketball as he moved to pick it up.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Yeji."
She smiled back, clearly pleased to have ran into him. "Yeah. How's basketball?"
"Good." They began walking down the hallways in silence. Yeji was seemingly expectant, and Hyunjin wondered if there was a group event or hangout he'd missed that she was about to pester him about. Maybe she was just waiting for his reply.
"So," Yeji began, eyes glinting as she looked up at Hyunjin. "You and Y/n, huh?"
There it is. Hyunjin fought the urge to roll his eyes as he replied.
"No, we're friends."
"That's what everyone says. Why else would you befriend her?"
Hyunjin stopped in his tracks, basketball slipping a little under his arm. He frowned at her. "What do you mean?"
Yeji flicked a long strand of orange hair behind her shoulder, looking up at him innocently. "I mean," she said breezily, "she's kind of an outcast."
Hyunjin fought the urge to snap at her, or throw his basketball in her face, or tug her hair out. Or all three, preferably. But he kept his cool with some effort, masking his anger with the fake guise of coughing suddenly. His breath suddenly caught in his throat and he actually started coughing.
Yeji placed a manicured hand on his back in concern, leaning closer to him.
"You okay?" she said gently, in concern that Hyunjin had a feeling was entirely fake and most likely an excuse to get closer to him.
"Yeah," he said wheezily, knocking a fist against his chest. "All good."
Yeji tilted her head and they kept walking. Hyunjin wanted nothing more than to slap her in the face, but something in his gut told him to play along and see what Yeji said.
"So, about Y/n," he started hesitantly. "What do you mean, 'why else would i befriend her'?"
Yeji sighed. "Hyunjin, literally no one likes her. I'm only friends with her because she hangs around me like a fly. I was just wondering why you were friends with her."
Hyunjin's mouth pressed into a thin line. Yeji had always been pretty upfront and honest with him. But it was still jarring listening to her admit that three years of friendship with Y/n had been a lie. That she was just a pity friend. Hyunjin was disgusted.
But he couldn't tell Yeji that. Otherwise she would tell everyone and perhaps make up a few lies along the way. He'd seen her do it to another guy from the soccer team and it hadn't ended well. He'd left the school.
"It's just that I need help to pass English this semester," he said to her as honestly as he could. It was surprisingly convincing, considering it was a complete lie. "She's pretty smart."
Yeji blinked up at him through long lashes. "Is that why you keep going to the library with her? So she can tutor you?"
Hyunjin nodded.
Yeji continued, a hint of suspicion in her voice. "Y/n's pretty socially dumb, but not that much. What did you offer her in return for the tutoring? I doubt she would've done it for free."
Hyunjin blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "A date with me."
Yeji let out a short, high-pitched laugh. "No waaayyy, Hyunjin. That's so sneaky of you. I bet she didn't suspect a thing."
Hyunjin let out a short, forced laugh. "Yeah. I just really need to pass English, otherwise I might get kicked off the basketball team..."
They reached the end of the hallway. Yeji stopped and turned to him, tilting her head and smiling. "You don't have to rely on that loser to tutor you. I'm doing pretty well in English right now. I'll tutor you instead."
Panic seized Hyunjin's gut. "Oh, uhm- I'd hate to trouble you. Wouldn't wanna take up any of your time."
Yeji shook her head eagerly. "No, it's fine," she pulled out her phone and waved it in Hyunjin's face. "Text me a time and then you can come over to mine tonight, okay? It'll be fun."
Hyunjin had no choice but to nod. "Um, sure. I guess."
Yeji giggled, touching his arm. "And remember, this conversation stays between us. Don't tell your little friend Y/n, okay?"
Hyunjin nodded, forcing a smile onto his face.
"Sure, Yeji."
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𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨' 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 ⊹ 𝙮𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙜
pairing: bang chan x reader
summary: you go out on new year's eve with chan and the rest of skz
genre: literally just fluff, it's cold ig
a/n: happy new years, everyone! i wanted to do a little special fic to mark the start of a new chapter (ha ha not literally) and even though it doesn't snow here, i wrote colder weather into the fic anyway for that extra vibe 🌨️
skz masterlist
Your breath puffs out in front of you in sharp, frosty clouds as you and Chan weave your way through the busy streets. The air is tangy and cold with the promise of more snow to come, though in the morning, most of it will begin to melt.
Everywhere you look, there are people; weaving through the busy sidewalks, holding hands with their loved ones, streaming out of shops or stores.
Next to you, Chan grins, his cheeks feeling stiff and iced with the cold weather, but slowly thawing with the warmth of his smile. He was in his element; he'd told you a while ago that he had made it a tradition with the kids to go out on the very first day of the new year, spending hours into the night laughing, eating, and exploring.
So, this year, he decided to bring you along too. It's chaos, but for once, Chan doesn't make an immediate move towards Seungmin and Jeongin, who are tossing back and forth creative insults a little way ahead of you on the sidewalk, or to Hyunjin, who's busy scooping up handfuls of snow to put down Felix's shirt.
Minho hovers nearby, his phone camera at the ready, and the neck of his shirt tucked in tightly, secure and cheeky-dongsaeng-proof. The rest of the boys are scattered up ahead, and though Chan hangs back, holding your hand and letting the other members supervise for once, you can tell he's checking in every few minutes anyway. Just in case.
You squeeze his hand a little tighter.
Normally, for you, the new year brings about a sense of loneliness and gloom; you were a storm, overcast with the grey feeling of another year passing by without feeling like you'd achieved anything. And for some reason, it seemed to weigh down on the times when you were supposed to be happiest. Like now.
Of course Chan noticed; yet again, his gentle, perceiving nature had reached out a hand to you, though it was shaking a little with the cold. So you had taken it, and now you found yourself seated next to him at a cosy, steamy restaurant on a street corner, all the other members crammed around the table, packed in tight but their spirits and feeling flying free.
You rub your nose, feeling the inside thaw a little as you inhale steam floating from the kitchen. Everything is soaked in rosy, warm light; your hands, Chan's face, the table in front of you all, and all the other guests chattering away and eating at their own tables.
Chan nudges you. You look up at his face; kind, dark eyes, a flush high on his cheekbones, staining the skin pink. He's a little paler than usual because of the cold, and his hands look the same way, but the radiance of his usual self shines brighter no less.
"You okay?" He whispers.
You nod back and you notice that his teeth are chattering slightly.
"Yeah, just recovering from the cold outside. It's much warmer in here."
Chan nods, puffing out a laugh. "I thought the boys were gonna freeze out there too, alongside us."
You steal a glance at the seven members, who are busy bickering and chattering and being their usual selves. They all erupt into laughter just as Felix pulls out a chunk of snow from the hem of his jacket and shoves it down Hyunjin's shirt instead.
You chuckle. "They move too fast for the frost to catch them."
Chan sighs wearily in agreement and you laugh, feeling the grey, stormy cloud hanging over your head lift a little.
Two hours, a lot of food, and nine full bellies later, you're all walking back down the street to a famous lookout point. It's not midnight yet and it won't be for a while, so Changbin suggested killing time by looking over the city of Seoul before heading back to watch the fireworks.
You all reach the steps to head to the lookout tower and the boys scramble up, skipping stairs. Joking threats of pushing each other down the steps and playful bickering disturbs several other people and Chan bows hurriedly before moving to follow the rest of his band. His hand is still glued to yours, however, and he jolts in his tracks as he moves and you stay rooted to the bottom of the steps.
"Channie," you say quietly. "Wait."
He steps back to your level, looking into your eyes with curiosity. "What is it? Are you okay?"
Though it's cold, you feel your palms sweating a little as you reach into your pocket, closing your hand around something as you keep eye contact with the man in front of you.
"I wanted to give you something," you whisper. "Because you always do so much for me, and I wanted you to know that I love you."
Chan smiles warmly. "I love you too."
You pull out the flat box from your pocket. It's dark blue and about the size of your palm, and you hand it to him with shaking fingers, soothed by the brush of Chan's own fingers brushing yours as he takes it gently.
He opens the box. Inside is a silver bracelet; a chain, just like the ones he loves to wear. There's a pendant at the bottom; a silver love knot threaded with tiny black diamonds, and two smaller pendants either side of that one, each depicting little bold letters spelling out yours and Chan's names.
Chan takes it out of the box with shaking hands and you help him clip it to his wrist. He turns it over and over, his eyes almost glowing with soft, adoring affection.
"I love it," he whispers. "Thank you."
You smile and pull back your own jacket sleeve, where an identical bracelet rests. Where the diamonds on Chan's pendant are black, yours are a silvery white, the colours opposing but still working so well together. Chan's eyes widen at the sight of it. Black and white.
Yin and yang.
You're still holding back your sleeve as Chan stares with unfiltered adoration at the identical chain circling your wrist. Earlier, the cold stung and whipped icicles against the softness of your skin, seeping into your bones and biting with icy teeth.
Now, you don't even feel it. It's like a bubble of warmth has begun to radiate from your shared presence at the bottom of the steps, the snow beginning to fall lightly around you both. You can almost feel waves of it rolling off of Chan's body and you sink into his inviting, cosy warmth, wrapping your arms around Chan's shoulders as his arms circle tightly around your waist.
The cold does nothing to hurt you now, not while Chan is here. The last remnants of stormy cloud dissipate and you feel a warm, pleasant feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. With Chan, it is warm, and safe, and the love between you is known.
You hope it stays that way.
a/n: first fic of 2025 hehe
hello! just read your chan helping reader on their period post, it was so good, could you do one for changbin too? would be amazing <3
yayyy second request ! glad you liked the chan version, love 🤍
he comforts you on your period - seo changbin
pairing: seo changbin x reader
summary: you're struggling with your period and changbin helps you out
genre: fluff, non-idol! au, comfort, cramps and period pain, reader has a period, slight suggestiveness
a/n: comments are appreciated <3
You're curled up on the couch, a thick blanket draped over your body. It cocoons you completely, providing a bubble of intoxicating heat and warmth that seeps pleasantly into your bones. You've been feeling sleepy all day but the drowsiness isn't enough to distract you from the constant, thrumming pain in your abdomen.
Shifting slightly to the left, you turn just enough to look out the living room window. It's clouded with fog, frosting the glass and making the outside world seem far, far away. It rained earlier, a few hours before you and Changbin had gotten up. You'd spent the morning talking in bed, laughing and sharing stories, and adoring each other (in more ways than one).
You'd been perfectly fine through all of that, up until Changbin had kissed your forehead and gotten dressed to go to the gym. You'd protested and whined about it, arguing that there was no reason to go work out this early in the morning, and that skipping one gym session wouldn't hurt. Especially in this weather. It was freezing.
He'd simply laughed and peppered a few more kisses to your face before quickly cooking you breakfast and leaving. You hadn't managed to eat it, though- as soon as you had left the bed, your phone rang. You'd been taking several phone calls from work for about half an hour, casually ignoring the faint, dull warning thuds in your stomach, signalling that your period was about to start. Instead of resting or at least warming up a heat pad, you'd gotten around to doing chores while on the phone with your boss. You figured that there was no harm in doing two things at once. If anything, it meant that stuff got done.
Determination had taken a firm hold of your senses, and you aspired to have finished most of the chores while on the phone. As you worked, you began to realise it was a bad idea; your stomach was beginning to throb, and you couldn't focus on what your boss was saying. The pain in your abdomen spread all the way down to your toes, making it difficult to do anything more than stand stiffly and wash the dishes, your shoulder propping your phone to you ear.
As soon as you had ended the last call, you sat down hastily. The cramps were beginning to set in now and it was too late to take medication. Even if you had taken a few painkillers, it would have taken an hour or so to set in, and you didn't have that kind of time. There was work to be done and you wanted everything to be done before Changbin got back.
Of course, no such luck.
Now you lay on the sofa, having had no more strength to do anything but pull out the biggest, fluffiest blanket you could find, and collapse into the cushions like a ragdoll. It was comfier than expected, despite the throbbing pain in your gut, but it didn't do much to alleviate it. All you could do now was push your way through it. Or you could call Changbin.
But you knew how much he loved his workouts, how much he loved pushing himself to do better. You knew it was unreasonable to be thinking like this, but you couldn't help but feel that he deserved a morning to himself undisturbed.
Yeah, no. If i have to go another minute without painkillers-
Pulling out your phone from under the thick folds of blanket, you clicked on Changbin's contact, waiting for him to pick up. It rung three times before he answered. The sounds of clanking, chatter, and faint workout music sounded from the speaker of your phone. Changbin's voice came through crisp and clear.
"Hey, bunny," he sounded breathless.
"Hi," you whispered, suddenly feeling guilty.
There was a pause.
"Bunny, you okay? What's wrong?"
You shifted to the left again, hip jerking suddenly as a particularly painful cramp shot through your abdomen, needle-sharp.
"Can- can you come home? My period started and-"
There was a heavy clank from the other side of the phone, followed by a hiss and a groan from Changbin. You fought the urge to smile. You'd heard that sound many, many times when he'd been working out at home. It was usually followed by Changbin's characteristic whining as you pressed an icepack to his foot, carefully and gingerly shifting the weight he'd dropped on himself to the side. His dramatic sigh sounded through the speaker.
"Why didn't you call me as soon as you started?"
You whine. "I didn't want to disturb you, I know you like working out uninterrupted-"
"Bunny, that's no excuse. I'm your boyfriend, it's my job to know about this, okay? I'm coming home."
"But-"
"No buts. I'll stop by the store to get snacks. We can have a day in, yeah?"
You bite your lip. "I can always try and get up-"
"Nononononono, don't do that. I'll be there soon, okay? We can eat and cuddle and watch a movie," his enthusiastic tone floated through the living room, making your mouth lift up at the corners.
"Binnie, are you sure?"
He laughs, "Of course I'm sure."
You smile freely then, feeling a fresh surge of affection and love wash over you, momentarily dulling the aching, cramping pains in your abdomen.
"I love you, Binnie."
"I love you too, bunny. Now, what ice cream do you want?"
a/n: requests are open !
the fast lane : part 2 (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, mentions of blood, injuries, passing out (very light stuff tho, nothing detailed), angsty reader hours, wc 3.3k
series masterlist
part 2 : the lollipop
Y/n stormed into the backstage area, whipping around on her heel and slamming the two-way door shut behind her. The doorframe creaked as she slid down against it. Frustrated, angry tears burned in her eyes.
Retrieving the second-hand helmet tucked under her arm, she tossed it across the dimly lit room. It landed with a quiet clunk onto the floor, rolling a few metres away before coming to rest against the leg of an old, worn-out, leather sofa.
Y/n groaned and slid further down the doorframe, limp hair mussing in tangles against the wood of the door. Her back hurt from the awkward position and her leather suit chafed uncomfortably against her sweat-slicked skin, but she couldn't have cared less.
A few hot tears spilled down her cheeks, adding to the wet saltiness of her face and jawline. Squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as she possibly could, Y/n attempted to forget the memory. Making the deal with Chan, the best street racer in the city. Being so overconfident and sassy to him, positive she'd place a win, only to have spun out in the last few seconds of the race. She kicked herself mentally. How she have gotten so confident? She was a mere rookie, a beginner in the racing scene. And yet she had had the guts to pretend like she was one of THEM, dressed in an expensive, tailored racing suit, with a flashy, colorful car and a personal pit crew at the ready to respond to every whim and command.
On top of all of that, she couldn't believe she had accepted the deal wit Chan. She should have turned it down and made a name for herself. She should have let him know that she could stand on her own two feet, and that she could become one of them. It was likely, she realised, that if she had won and accepted a choice of racecar from Chan, he would have used it against her as leverage in every possible scenario. Y/n was disgusted at her gullibility and eagerness. She'd gotten so hasty that she'd forgotten all the implications and consequences that came with attempting to become a street racer.
As soon as her car had pulled to the side, Y/n had thrown open the rusty car door and fled to the backstage room, shoving through the crowd in her haste. The jeers and whooping from the other racers, coupled with the burning embarrassment and the cheers for the racer who'd actually won accumulated and swirled around her in a thick fog of shame, pathetic self-pity, and hopelessness, seeping into her bones and taking hold of her senses till it seemed that failure was woven into every single fibre of her being.
She couldn't shake the images from her mind. Chan, standing at the winner's podium, surrounded by adoring fans, raising a fist in blazing triumph. The almost sympathetic look he'd given her as she'd fled the arena. The steely glare and the tuts from the maintenance crew she'd paid for the night. The consistent, nagging feeling that she shouldn't have tried, shouldn't have gone further than simply entertaining the thought of being a street racer.
More than that, she felt humiliated.
Curling her knees to her chest, Y/n buried her face between them, inhaling the stale scent of leather and sweat. Everything was a colossal mess. If she was lucky, then maybe the universe would crack open beneath her feet and swallow her up in thick, molten rivers of lava and fiery tongues of flame. It would be better than having to face the entire arena of racers who had watched her lose her first race. Better than having to walk out, head hung in shame. She could already hear the taunts and jeers, though if they were from the racers milling around outside the backstage area or her own brain, she wasn't sure.
Look, it's that overconfident rookie!
She really thought she could win against Chan... what a joke...
If she's smart, she won't come back here.
The two-way door against Y/n's back suddenly swung open, sending her tumbling to the floor. Her head hit the dirty linoleum with an unpleasant thud. The world spun and she groaned, eyes shut. Hands flying to the sides of her head, she slowly opened her eyes, wincing. She could see two legs and the top of a pair of combat boots, all sheathed in dark, shiny leather, and further up-
Oh shit!
Flying bolt upright, Y/n turned and profusely apologized to the man standing in the doorway. Her knees hurt from the speed at which she'd whipped around on them but she ignored it, still blinded by the dazing pain in her head. Her cheeks flushed bright scarlet.
The man raised an eyebrow, pulling out something thin and white from between his lips. Y/n blinked, thinking it was a cigarette, but upon closer inspection, she could see the thin, white stick of a lollipop. He poked it back into his mouth, sucking on it thoughtfully. He didn't seem even mildly put out by the fact that Y/n had been staring up his crotch just a few moments earlier.
He was quite handsome, too. Maybe even a bit more than Chan. Somewhere in the subconscious realm of her thoughts, Y/n realised that the pretty yet staunch man in the doorway must have gotten used to being stared at. Whether it was by Y/n lying between his legs from where she'd fallen or by the other attractive girls out in the arena, he had the air of someone who had such beauty that there was no need to flaunt it.
Damn it, are all the male racers here attractive or what?
Y/n's frantic apologies faded off unsurely into the air as she stared back up at the man. She was on her knees, half-crouched, hands in front of her. She must have been frantically explaining and apologising for at least a minute now, but he hadn't said a word.
If anything, he looked intrigued.
They stared at each other a few minutes; Y/n's miserable, frantic, pleading expression contradicting his steady, sure gaze. Y/n finally collected her thoughts enough to actually look at him. He was very pretty at first sight, but up close Y/n could see faint white scars flecking his forearms, hands, and neck, as if something, or someone had scratched him. His eyes were dark and chocolatey, complementing the silky waves of purplish mahogany falling freely over his forehead, swept into a neat part in the middle. His mouth was a perfect, pink pout, glossy and rosy in the middle where he'd shifted the lollipop between them.
His outfit was a bit like Chan's but more casual, stylish shirtsleeves rolled to his arms and leather pants and boots, all in the same, intimidating shade of black. There was a large, abstract cutout in the shirt to the right side of his chest. A heavy silver chain and a wide- leather belt studded with tiny diamonds looped around his waist elegantly, framing his form.
Crouching before this absolute model of a man, Y/n felt like a common street urchin. Her mind wandered a little, and so did her eyes. But he still hadn't said anything. Y/n was beginning to wonder why he'd come into the room in the first place. Maybe to put her out of her misery. Attempting to speak, she cleared her throat.
"U-uhm..." Her voice came out thick, raw and croaky from crying. She clenched her fists and looked down suddenly, feeling a fresh wave of humiliated tears fill her eyes. He would mock her for sure.
"Hey, kid."
Y/n's head snapped up. His voice was soft and clear. Precise and measured. It wasn't like Chan's voice. Not at all. It was a little accented, but it was lovely. Pretty, almost.
Y/n tried to speak, willing her voice not to wobble. It came out quieter than she'd expected, a barely audible whisper. "Yes?"
"You're absolutely shit at racing, you know that?"
Y/n blinked, her misery temporary halted by the unexpectedly blunt statement. The man continued.
"That last turn was ass. Surely you can do better. You've got the skills, I can tell, but your reflexes need work."
Y/n gaped, dumbfounded. Who was this guy, waltzing into the room and critiquing her so bluntly? He looked like a proper racer, but still, there was no need to be so harsh about it. Y/n sighed and looked down, having come up with no retort to throw back in the man's face. She remained crouching, resigned to her fate.
She heard a small sigh from above here before a hand reached down, wrapping around her right bicep. It was gentle, but enough to lift Y/n to her feet. Firm, but not enough to hurt. His hand was quite large, rippled with veins, the knuckles a bit too big for the fingers. It was a pretty hand nonetheless, the skin smooth and tanned, and Y/n felt a small surge of thankful heat pool in her stomach at the unexpected, almost caring gesture.
Her knees throbbed faintly as she straightened herself. The man's grip on her arm loosened, but remained hovering uncertainly near, as if he was afraid she was going to fall. And in all honesty, Y/n did feel as if her legs were about to give out.
She stuttered a little as she spoke, her consciousness floating about her like a foggy daze. "T-thanks."
He tilted his head at her curiously. "Have you ever raced before? In a proper circuit?"
Unprepared for the direct question, Y/n averted his gaze, cheeks flushing. "No, I- tonight was my first time."
It must have been the adrenaline and the exhaustion surging through her body, but Y/n flushed even darker as she spoke, although her response carried no connotation whatsoever.
If he noticed, he didn't call her out on it, simply settling to fiddle with the lollipop stick still in his mouth. He let his hand fall from her arm back to his side, but it soon came back up to unexpectedly cradle the side of Y/n's head. She flinched at the surprising gesture, anticipating a hit from the racer, but he simply let his hand curve gently around the nape of her neck. He looked suddenly concerned and mildly put out.
"Did you know you've hurt yourself, by the way?"
Y/n blinked. She hadn't been previously aware of any injury on her body, but now that he had mentioned it, the back of her head stung a little, where her hairline met the soft skin of her neck. And she felt dazed, like she was floating...
Her hand came up to shakily press the back of her head, feeling for any sort of injury. When her fingertips met her nape, she felt a searing, white-hot shock of pain.
Her knees gave out and the racer was quick enough to dart forward, taking the brunt of the fall. He awkwardly looped his arm around Y/n's waist, holding her upright, and moved to sit her down on the flaking faux leather of the worn-out couch.
The world spun dizzyingly around her before going black.
~
Y/n woke to something cool and wet being pressed onto her forehead. Groaning weakly, she tensed her shoulders, testing her range of movement. She recognized the ceiling as being the backstage area; she must have remained in the same position on the couch after passing out.
A gentle, lulling hum came from her side. She turned her head to the right and saw the purplish-haired man from earlier, pressing a cool compress to her forehead. She exhaled heavily, eyes feeling baggy and tired. Closing her eyes, Y/n listened to the soft melody of the man's voice floating throughout the room. Her neck still hurt, but felt as if something had been wrapped around it; she figured a bandage of some sort. Weakly lifting her hand, she could faintly see specks of dried blood from where she'd previously touched her neck.
That confirmed her suspicions. She'd passed out because of the injury. Either that, or the exhaustion.
The man beside her poked her cheek, gently and not unkindly. A low chuckle came above her.
"Took you long enough,"
Y/m smiled, a watery, poor affair. Turning her head a little more, and wincing at the pain in her nape, she locked eyes with him.
"What time is it?"
He hummed. "Around two am. You passed out for a couple hours. Looked like your body could do with the rest, so I didn't wake you up," he paused his ministrations, gazing at her again with that deep, intense, yet gentle stare. "Did you have somewhere to be?"
Y/n shook her head minutely, pushing herself upright into a sitting position. She felt weak and boneless.
"I should go home," her voice trailed off, exhausted.
He looked up, mildly confused. "Home? I don't think you'd even make it out the door."
Y/n groaned. "Enough with the sassy comments. I'm going. Thank you for taking care of me-"
He stood suddenly, putting a hand on her shoulder. His gaze was almost fierce, stubborn, protective. Like an older brother.
"You're not going home like this. Let me drive you."
Y/n shook her head wildly, immediately regretting it. The throbbing in her head subsided as she pressed her palms to her temples.
"It's fine," attempting to stand, Y/n moved towards the door, shakily and slowly. Her legs felt like they were made of rubber bands.
The man watched her, unimpressed. Moving towards her, he offered his arm with a sigh.
"Just take it. I'll drive you home."
Exasperated, Y/n glared up at him. "I don't even know you. You could be a murderer."
He scoffed in return, rolling his eyes. "No murderer is this attractive. Look, just take my arm. You walked here, right? So that means you don't live far away-"
Y/n interrupted him, a little panicked at his observational skills. "How did you know I walked here?"
"I saw you earlier, before the race. No motorbike, or skateboard, or car. Looking around the arena like a little kid seeing a plane in the sky. Mouth open and everything."
At this, Y/n smacked him on the shoulder, scoffing at his comparison. He didn't even budge, Y/n's hit doing nothing to move him. He simply took her arm, a little more insistently, and steered her towards the door.
It took about five minutes of back and forth arguing and half-hearted bickering before Y/n finally allowed the racer to drive her home.
I haven't got much left to lose anyway, she thought glumly.
She was led to the back end of the arena, where a little dark hallway opened into the street by a creaky door. A narrow, dark, alleyway gaped at the left side of the street, and the man walked her towards it, making sure not to jostle her.
The night was dark and quiet, everything still and silent. The yellow glow of the streetlights cast abstract patterns of light onto the glistening road, soaked with rain. It must have poured down while she was blacked out. She could still hear the faint pumping of hip-hop music and the occasional rev of a car in the arena behind her.
The man led her into the alleyway, softly pointing out objects for her to move around, and kicking stray cans and rocks out of the way, lest she trip. He was surprisingly nice, considering the blunt comment he'd made about her racing earlier.
He led her to a Kawasaki motorbike, hidden behind a dumpster. It was beautiful, a sleek, dark vehicle with streaks of neon green highlighting the wheels and seat. He offered her a hand onto it and saddled himself onto the bike, revving the engine once. Y/n clung to the sides of the backseat, awkwardly hanging on. The racer took a helmet that had been concealed on top of an old AC unit and slipped it on, the big, dark shield masking his face. He flipped it up and turned to look at her questioningly.
"Well?" he said expectantly.
Y/n blinked.
He sighed. "Hold onto me. Otherwise you'll fall off and die."
Y/n rolled her eyes at his sarcastic comment. "It's fine, just drive."
She was met with a groan and another rev of the engine. He suddenly sped forward half a metre or so, then stopped suddenly. Y/n was thrown forward, crashing into his back. She gasped, arms flying to lock around his waist. She heard an amused chuckle and a click as the man flipped his face shield back down. Cheeks flushing rosy in her embarrassment, Y/n buried her face into his back, fisting the material of his dark shirtsleeves. She could feel the rush of seeping, intoxicating heat radiating into her from his back. Her arms instinctively tightened around him as he sped off.
The wind whooshed in her ears, whipping up her hair and causing a deafening rush of noise to settle around her as the motorbike sped into the night. Y/n tugged on the left side of his shirt, signalling him to go left. He picked up on it without a single hint of doubt or hesitation and Y/n fought a smile, eyes closed as she pressed her cheek into his back, and continued to tug on either the left or right side in order to direct him.
After about ten minutes of gentle tugging, the man pulled up in front of Y/n's apartment complex. The sky was beginning to lighten a little, though the deep glow of twilight still hung over the sky like a blanket.
Y/n awkwardly slipped off the motorbike, stumbling as she dismounted. The racer offered her his hand, but she'd already gotten off the bike. It hovered in the air, unsure, before dropping back to his side, pulling at the fabric of his leather pants, and then travelled back to the handlebars, gripping them tightly. He then turned to her, flipping his shield up, then pausing before taking it off entirely. His hair fell in a mussed mess around his forehead, slightly fluffy. Somehow, Y/n liked it better that way. It looked more raw, more real.
More perfect.
When he spoke, it was quiet. Quiet but gentle, but loud enough to float around the both of them, ringing in the early morning. He cleared his throat hesitantly, as if Y/n was an animal he was trying not to spook.
"I- uh, I wasn't planning to murder you, if that's what you're worried about..."
Y/n laughed unexpectedly at the statement; the sound rung out loud and clear, lighting up the sky. It felt glorious to be defying the silence that hung in the atmosphere, thick as fog on a stormy day. Like sunshine breaking through the clouds.
"Good to know," she giggled. "Um, thanks for the ride."
He simply nodded in acknowledgement, hand fiddling with the edge of the Kawasaki's windshield. The sleek, black helmet was tucked awkwardly under his arm.
Y/n turned to go, before pausing suddenly. Spinning on her heel, she thoughtfully looked at the man. He hadn't moved, simply watching her. Waiting. But it wasn't threatening or ominous in the least. It was protective, reliable. Like he was frozen, his dark, pretty eyes fixed on her own.
Y/n's voice was soft, almost hesitant. "I never got your name..."
The man smiled. Pushed his fringe out of his eyes, readjusted the helmet under his arm. The dawning light behind him illuminated his outline, all sharp, sleek angles and edges. He chuckled lightly, more airy, light exhale than sound.
"Minho."
a/n: likes, comments, reblogs appreciated !
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✦ she/her. call me ttokki. 00 liner. bts and skz ults. sfw writer. previously starlost-mochi-x ✦
151 posts