Skz X Short 9th Member!reader

stupidly perfect - (best friend!bang chan x reader) part 2

pairing: best friend!bang chan x reader

summary: after a nasty scare, you talk to felix and hyunjin about what happened. the distance between you and chan grows, until...

genre: angsty angsty, idol!au, mentions of hospital, blood, cuts, bruises, no graphic descriptions, mentions of needles (blood withdrawals), mentions of food and drink, han and jeongin want to be medical professionals, seungmin is far too honest (he loves them really), chan loses his shit, i'm not sorry for the ending :]

a/n: the long-awaited part of 'stupidly perfect'! everyone cheer . div by @ferretmilkshakezzz

skz masterlist | skz prompt list | part one here

The room is cold; it's the kind of cold that you only experience in hospital. That starched-white, stiff, sterilized cold that seems to sink into every fibre of your being, turning it to ice, until all you can do is sink further into the pristine sheets, trying to find some semblance of warmth.

Warmth.

It reminds you of Chan all over again; the pining, the admiring, the restaurant, Chae. Crying in the bathroom. Confessing. The car.

It's been two days since the accident; your cuts and scrapes are beginning to scab over, but you're still not allowed to leave. They woke you in the hospital in a daze, took one look at your battered body, and that was that. One week of staying in hospital, then they'll see what they can do about letting you go home.

You sigh. Turning onto your side with some difficulty, you survey the familiar white blandness of the room.

It's empty enough; the door in the corner has a pane of frosted glass over it, and a couple of switches by the frame. There's a white table and two chairs placed near the wide window, and the monitors surrounding your bed are a sterile light grey, beeping and flashing.

White, white, white.

Huffing and turning to your left to look out the window instead, you find a slightly more interesting sight; raindrops slide down the glass in a constant, heavy drizzle, and you can just make out the tall, surroundings buildings nearby. The sky is grey, and you think then that maybe the world really has lost its colour. It only felt that way at first; now you can't help but wonder if your world is turning to greyscale, void of colour and life and love.

There's a knock on the door and you're sluggishly dragged out of your misery. Pressing a button by your bedside to let whoever it is in, you sit up a little as a nurse enters the room.

"Hello," she says softly. "Feeling any better?"

You shake your head, and try to offer a smile, but it doesn't work.

"Poor you," she replies quietly. "Anything to eat, maybe? A drink of water?"

"No, thank you," you whisper, exhausted.

She nods, adjusting the hem of her ironed top, and then moves to draw the blinds down. Just enough to dim the room slightly and still let you look out the window.

"You have a visitor," the nurse says softly. "Are you feeling well enough to see them, or should I tell them to come some other time?"

You sit up a little straighter then, heart beginning to throb unpleasantly in your chest. "I, um.. Let them in."

She nods and leaves, and you can hear her softly speaking to someone in the corridor. There's a little bit of shuffling, and then a familiar face pokes its nose into the room.

"Felix," you say, relieved.

He shuts the door with far more care than he ought to, and the comical sight makes your heart twinge. You didn't even realise how much you missed him, too caught up in your own head to acknowledge the Felix-shaped hole in your heart.

He drags a chair from the table over to the bedside and flops down, depositing his bag onto the floor. You inhale deeply; a fresh wave of sweet-smelling cologne fills your senses, immediately reinvigorating. The air feels light and tangy.

"How have you been?" Felix says quietly. "Heard it was nasty."

You sit up with some difficulty, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in your joints. "Yeah, I'm okay. I guess. Could've been worse."

Quiet. Then-

"He's torn to pieces about it," he says even quieter. "Chan."

You sigh and look down at your bruised hands, fiddling over the starched sheets. "Oh."

"Yeah."

Biting the inside of your cheek, you slide down a little against the pillow. "Is- is he okay? Like..."

Felix sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. Leaning back on the chair, he toes his boots off and places his socked feet on the bed, crossing his legs over one another. You crack a tiny smile at the casual gesture.

"He hasn't been talking much," he muses. "Kind of just stays in his room most of the time. He stopped talking to Chae as well. He felt so guilty."

You groan. "I didn't try to make him feel guilty. I just wanted to tell him how I felt all this time... and I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been so upset about what happened at the restaurant."

"I know."

"He didn't have to cut Chae off because of it... I kinda wanted them to stop talking, but I didn't want that to happen..."

"I know."

"And now I messed up and I'm stuck in hospital all cut and bruised because I couldn't fucking look both ways before I crossed the road-"

"I know."

You slap him half-heartedly on the shoulder. "Is that all you're going to say?"

He runs a hand through his dark locks again. "Nah. By the way, I'm sorry I didn't come sooner to see you. I figured you'd want some time to rest and heal."

You sigh. "It's okay. I just- Everything is a mess right now."

"Messes can be cleaned."

You sigh and shift against the uncomfortable firm mattress. "Lix?"

He tilts his head. "Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you came to see me."

Felix is silent. Then, he stands and leans against the glass of the window, looking down thoughtfully to the streets below.

You get out of bed with some difficulty and join him, letting your forehead rest on the cold, cool glass. You're not bothered that he isn't replying to your sentiment; sometimes, people say the most when they speak no words at all.

Both of you are aware that the glass could break at any moment and send you both hurtling to the ground, but you don't move and neither does Felix, still looking down onto the street far, far below.

All you can hear is his soft breathing, the muted sounds of city life rumbling seemingly right under your feet, and the occasional soft footsteps of a nurse outside the door.

"Are you gonna talk to him?" Felix says. "About it all."

It's a vague enough question; strangely, you feel your heart flutter. Talking to Chan after getting out of hospital seems like such a faraway event. Like it's something that you don't need to worry about for the next few years, so distant.

That is not true.

"I'm gonna have to face him at some point," you say, sighing in resignation. "Should I wait for him to find me first? It might be less awkward..."

Felix lets out a little laugh, drawing a circle on the glass with his fingertip. "It's gonna be awkward either way."

You sigh and look down at the streets below. It seems so peaceful up here, yet you can see the faint, faraway tell-tale gathering of dark clouds on the horizon.

He's right.

.

"So," Yuna exhales, pulling your bag inside the door. "Do you want me to pick up anything from the grocery store for you?"

You think about this question as you set your waterbottle down on the counter. It's so good to finally be back home. Yuna, one of your work friends, called and asked if you wanted help getting set up back at home, and you had readily and gratefully agreed.

"Um.. I need more milk and..." You open the fridge, then the pantry, to inspect what needs replacing. "...And some ramen."

Yuna scoffs. "Y/n, you are not living off ramen. You just got out of a week in hospital... do you want to send yourself back in from an MSG overdose?"

You laugh, your healing ribs hurting at the action, and unzip your bag. "Okay, fine. I'll ask Felix if he can spare me anything. The boys said they'd drop off a few things for me too."

She brings you in carefully for a hug, and you wrap your arms around her frame. She smells so nice, and not for the first time do you deeply relish the warmth of someone's arms around your body. There's something about physical affection that is just so comforting.

Especially after so long in hospital.

Felix had dutifully come to visit you every day, each time bringing a couple of the members. It had been a welcome distraction from the fading novelty of being hospitalised and the injuries you sustained, but after Han and Jeongin asked the nurses to have a go at giving you a blood withdrawal, Felix had hurried them out of the room.

Not that they minded.

Then there was Seungmin, coolly making jokes about turning off your life support (you weren't even in intensive care), and Lee Know, who had smuggled Dori into his bag to bring to you.

"Dori will kiss it better," he had said seriously (Dori bit you).

Hyunjin spent most of his time sketching and painting over your bandages; it was a welcome gesture from the stark white you'd gotten so used to seeing in the hospital. Even Changbin had taken time off his busy schedule to see you, often coming into the room fresh from the gym or a dance practice.

But no Chan.

Each time they entered, you'd look up in anticipation and barely veiled hope, but it was always wasted. He never showed. Felix told you they'd been trying to persuade him to come and see you, but Chan had refused and shut down. You were a little disappointed and partially relieved at this revelation.

You glance down at the bandages wrapping your forearms now; not exactly a cast, but not a simple wrap either. It's slightly stiff, and you smile at the multitude of silly signatures and drawings that the members and some of your friends had peppered the surface with.

Looking around your living room and then casting a glass-eyed gaze over the kitchen, you inhale deeply. It feels strange to be here. The place is well-worn, lived in, but it feels like you've walked into someone else's home and stood in the middle of the room. It doesn't feel like you live here at all.

Oh well, you think. Time to get settled.

.

And settle you do; by the time the clock hits seven, you're curled up on the couch with a blanket, a bowl of hot soup (courtesy of Lee Know), and a good tv show.

You've turned the lights off and put the lamps on instead; you swear if you see one more bright light you might literally lose your mind.

The dim, golden glow is comforting; it makes you feel warm, and along with the effects of Lee Know's soup, the fluffy blanket, and the light pitter-patter of rain on the window outside, you begin to feel very sleepy. The show you've put on in the background drones on faintly, and for a moment, you revel in the quiet.

Until the doorbell rings.

You groan and heave yourself up from the couch. Standing up, you pause for a few seconds to see if whoever it is will give up and decide to go away.

They don't. The doorbell rings again.

Yawning, you make your way to the door and unlock it, coming face-to-face with none other than Hwang Hyunjin.

"Hyune," you say, surprised.

"Hey," he grins sheepishly, running a hand through his buzzed hair. "Can I come in?"

You step aside and shut the door as he takes his shoes off, shrugging off his rain-spotted jacket. Wordlessly, you sit back down on the couch and gesture for him to do the same. He does.

"How have you been?" You ask him quietly, trying to drape the blanket over yourself once again.

Hyunjin reaches across and tucks the blanket in for you. "I should be the one asking that, don't you think?"

You shrug.

He sighs, leaning back against the couch, and tucks his socked feet up underneath him. "I'm okay."

"Just okay?"

He shifts uncomfortably, like there's something wrong with his insides. "I, um... Have you talked to Chan yet? Has he talked to you since..."

You shake your head. "Why? Aside from the obvious."

Hyunjin exhales. "He's lost his shit."

"What?"

He sits up a little further, repeating himself. "He's lost his shit. He's just- not himself."

You sigh and relax against the cushions, not knowing what to say. You feel a little bit bad, but your stubbornness tells you that Chan should be the one to reach out again first if he's so upset about it.

You tell Hyunjin that, but he just shakes his head.

"One of you is going to have to take the first step to fix this," he says. "How do you feel about it, though?"

"Considering it was my own fault for not looking both ways, and my fault for setting off the whole thing... it still stings."

He nods understandingly. "I figured you might wanna talk about it a little, if Felix hasn't done that already. That's why I came."

You shake your head. "We talked about it a little, but I guess he was mostly there to distract me."

Hyunjin chuckles. "He's good at it too."

You nod. There's silence.

"So you're in love with Chan," he says finally.

Hearing it being said out loud is strange. Like something surreal floating in the air. Not a truth that you've kept buried for so long. Well, not anymore, at least.

Hyunjin's voice snaps you out of your daze. "Do you still love him? You know, after all of this."

You sigh and cast your gaze on the golden light emitting from a nearby lamp. "I don't know. I guess. But it doesn't matter if he doesn't feel the same way."

"Maybe he does," he says earnestly. His skin is honeyed in the dimness of the room.

"He's far too busy for it anyway," you say. You hate the way it sounds like you're unsure. Like you're trying to convince yourself that you're not in love with your best friend.

Hyunjin seems to pick up on this, because he scoots a little closer, stroking a couple of fingers along your blanketed knee. "Even if he doesn't feel the same way, Y/n, it doesn't mean you can't still work it out. You two were inseparable-"

"Yeah, until Chae came along."

"Was she really the reason?"

You sigh and turn to face him, shifting on the couch. "If he really loved me, he would have made an effort to talk to me despite Chae. Like I did. I did everything I could to see him as often as possible," you sigh. "But he didn't do the same thing."

"Maybe he was too afraid to ruin what you both have," Hyunjin says diplomatically.

You scoff. "Well, he shouldn't have worried, because I ruined it for both of us."

He sighs and touches your hand lightly. "Talk to him. We've been trying to convince him to come and see you-"

"No," you say, panicked. "Don't do that."

"Y/n, just- How are you both supposed to work this out if you keep avoiding each other?"

You groan and lean your head on his shoulder. "I don't know. And I want to fix this, Hyune, but I can't face him and have him tell me he doesn't feel the same way. It's better like this."

"Is is worth losing him to preserve your feelings?"

Silence.

"I don't know," you finally admit, voice quiet.

The lamp flickers.

.

In the morning, you wake up sprawled on the couch, the blanket tucked up neatly under your chin. You glance across at the coffee table; your bowl isn't there anymore, and the TV is off. Hyunjin is gone.

Sitting up, you notice the bowl in the sink, and a small bag of something, probably food, on the counter. Thanking your stars that you have good friends, you stand up and stretch.

Your strength is almost fully replenished, and your cuts and bruises have gone from angry reds and pinks to faded purples and browns. They don't hurt as much anymore, and it's easier to move around, so you decide to get some housework done after eating.

The weather outside is still grey and stormy; it rains hard for the first part of the morning. You've woken up quite late, but the sleep must have done you good, because by the time afternoon hits, you've cleaned up your place quite well.

Your phone buzzes, then again, and again; it's the SKZ groupchat, and you smile at the multitude of welcome-home messages flooding in from the guys. Your cheeks warm.

Hanji Quokka 🔥: WELCOME HOMEE Y/NNNNN Kiwi 🥝: Hope you slept well. Seungie 🐶: Don't do that again. Thought you were gonna die. We all got excited for a minute. Lixie Pixie 💫: SEUNGMIN Strong Guy 🐇: SEUNGMIN Lee Doesn't Know 💟: SEUNGMIN

You roll your eyes and your finger moves to press the button to turn your phone off, fighting a smile. Their affection, however chaotic, makes a twinge of warmth settle comfortably in your stomach.

Your phone buzzes again, and you open your messages to see a text from Hyunjin.

Hyune: Feeling any better? Y/n: Yes. Thank you. For last night as well... I didn't even hear you leave. Hyune: Probably a good thing. I reckon you needed the rest. Y/n: Yeah. Hyune: Can I come over tonight? Y/n: Of course.

You turn your phone off then. It seems a little strange, that he sent you a private text rather than just asking how you were in the group chat. But you shrug it off, and decide to continue cleaning up.

You don't notice how dark it's beginning to get; wiping the minimal sweat from your forehead, you quickly run upstairs to change into a fresh set of clothes and wash up.

Hyunjin said he'd come round the same time as yesterday, so you turn all the lights off and put the lamps on again. You like the honeyed wash it coats everything in, softening all harsh corners and edges and covering them in that familiar, golden glow. Warmth emits from their bulbs.

You're about to plop down on the couch and dissociate for a while, or at least until Hyunjin comes over, but the doorbell interrupts your motions.

Huh. That was quick.

It's raining outside again, you notice as you make your way to the door. The comforting pitter-patter fills your senses as your fingertips touch the cold metal of the door handle.

You undo the latch and pull the door open. You expect to see Hyunjin, drops of water clinging to his jacket, a sheepish grin stretched handsomely across his elegant features.

But it's not.

"Chan," you whisper.

a/n: ohohohooo reader is cooked (i think. i haven't decided what the third part will be about. anyways.)

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safe - skz x 9th member!reader

pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader

summary: skz helps you out when you're struggling with burnout and bad habits.

genre: fluff, idol! au, very angsty, descriptions of eating disorders, destructive habits, mentions of blood, fainting, throwing up (nothing graphic), reader is struggling with lots of thoughts, fluffy ending. read at your own risk.

a/n: i felt like it was time to write something that hits a little closer to home... hopefully it helps some of you out. my dms are always open to talk if you need it, and if you ever feel like reader does, please know that things do get better <3 divider by @iluvrei

The lights are too bright.

You blink harshly, trying to clear your vision of tears. Glancing across, you check to see if the boys have noticed anything. They haven't, too focused on the video of the choreography. They're all dripping with sweat, hair mussed, brows furrowed in concentration, and so are you, but you just can't focus right.

Not even if you tried. Because you can't do anything right.

Minho hums and notes down a couple things before signalling to start the choreography again. You move into your position and place a hand on Jisung's shoulder as you all fan out. The music blasts and leaves high-pitched ringing noises in your ears as you dance.

A hollow pang thuds dully in your stomach but you ignore it, instead focusing on copying Hyunjin's moves and moving into the next part of the song. By this point, you've forgotten the choreography and you want nothing more than to just sit down.

Focus, Y/n. Ignore it.

But you can't, too focused on just staying upright and keeping up with the rest of the boys. Even Felix, who tends to get tired the easiest, is dancing at full power, his eyes fixed on the mirror, adjusting and executing with perfect precision. The sight of it makes you feel even more run down and your temples throb when you stand back up into position for the main chorus.

Your energy finally runs out halfway through the choreo and you simply drop to your knees, hitting them hard on the polished floor. A chorus of groans sound out as Jeongin jogs to the speaker to stop the music.

"Y/n," Hyunjin groans, hands on his knees. Sweat drips from his hair. "We were almost finished, now we have to start again-"

He's cut off as a panting Chan waves his hand dismissively. "Take a break, guys. You okay, Y/nnie?"

You nod tiredly and look down at the floor, trying hard not to cry. That awful sour feeling takes a firm hold on your jaw and you gulp, like there's something stuck in your throat. The rest of the boys pay you no mind, chattering and bickering as they take swigs from water bottles and flick sweat from their hair.

Concert practice has been more than tiring, to say the least. Despite the tiredness and fatigue hanging in the air, the boys seem reasonably cheerful; pushing through with smiles on their faces. But being the youngest member of Stray Kids, there's only so much you can take on before it gets too much. You don't remember the last time you slept for more than four hours or ate a proper meal.

So while the others begin to move back into position, you stay on your hands and knees on the floor, gasping for air and feeling that terrible hollow pang gnaw at the lining of your stomach. A headache settles firmly between your eyes and your vision blurs, and it takes all your strength to even breathe.

Don't cry, you tell yourself harshly.

By now, Chan is kneeling beside you, a hand on your back. He knows how hard you've been working, especially since you just joined the production side of things, and he whispers a few reassuring phrases before standing up and offering you a hand.

Your eyes follow him as he rises from the floor, and a sudden burst of irritation shoots through you like lightning. Swatting his hand away and then immediately feeling terrible and selfish for it, you stand and brush yourself off, walking away without a word.

Chan stares after you just as Felix walks up.

"Is she okay?" The younger boy whispers.

Chan shrugs, brows furrowing in concern. "I don't know, Lix. I think she's just stressed with all the concert preparation."

"I mean," Felix begins as the music starts to play again, "She is the youngest of us. Maybe it's getting too much for her, hyung."

Maybe, Chan thinks as he moves into his position, watching as you do the same.

.

The rest of the day is uneventful; you spend most of it running between photoshoots, vocal lessons, rehearsals, and dress fittings for the upcoming concerts. It's all a blur, and by the time you open the door to the Minsung dorm, you're exhausted.

Minho and Jisung are already back from practice, since you'd opted to stay longer to perfect the choreo. Your body had been against it but you pushed through anyway, and you're beginning to slightly regret it as you almost stumble while shutting the door behind yourself.

Minho is in the kitchen, chopping something up; Jisung is lounging on the couch, watching something on his phone. The air smells rich and meaty, and normally you'd sneak into the kitchen for a taste of whatever Minho is preparing, but the singular thought of it makes you feel tense and nauseous.

You opt to grab only a new bottle of water before heading to your room. Minho looks up in surprise; he had been preparing to fight off a nosy, hungry Y/n, but you walk straight past him without even a hello. You do the same to Jisung and shut your bedroom door quietly, sinking down against it without a word.

You feel terrible about ignoring them; after all, they're your friends, but you just don't have it in you today to talk. Or dance or sing, or do anything at all. Everything feels dull and grey save for the hot tears that begin to soak the damp, musky fabric of your shirt.

Deciding to shower, you pick yourself up from the floor after a while and move sluggishly to the bathroom. You scrub until your skin is red and tingling and pull harshly at your hair while brushing it out before slipping on the first clothes you see in the drawer; a hoodie and sweats, all black.

Collapsing onto your bed, you open your phone and immediately regret it; the blue glare makes your head throb so harshly that you have to fight to urge to lean over the bed and throw up. You cover your mouth just in case, though there isn't even anything in your stomach to warrant the action anyway. You take a weak swing of water as a remedy and collapse back into the pillows, feeling exhausted but not tired enough to sleep.

Your stomach rumbles and you think briefly about sneaking into the kitchen after Minho and Jisung have gone to sleep, but you hold yourself back and roll over, gritting your teeth. Someone knocks on the door.

"Y/nnie!" Jisung calls from the other side of the door. "Come and eat something."

You ignore him, hoping that he'll think you've fallen asleep. You check the time; it's definitely late enough for that to be true. You wait with bated breath until you hear footsteps walking away.

You stomach growls more insistently and you press a disapproving hand over it, quieting the pangs as you turn over to try and sleep.

You can go one more day.

.

The next morning, you wake up early and decide to head to practice before Minho and Jisung can keep you back and make you eat something. You know for sure they've noticed the change in your eating habits, so you take a plate and break up a piece of toast, sprinkling crumbs so it looks like you've eaten. You throw the bread into the bin and leave your plate on the table before leaving.

Opening the door to the dance studio, you notice Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Seungmin all up early too, rehearsing the choreo, messing about, or talking. Or, in Hyunjin's case, all three. You duck to the side and head to the opposite side of the room, as far away from Chan as possible.

Him being here isn't good; you know for sure, after how exhausted you were yesterday, he'll try and check in with you. And it wouldn't be hard for him to decipher what's been happening; the pale pallor of your face, the bones of your wrists more prominent than before, and of course the constant sluggishness, fatigue, and dizziness that you've forced yourself to endure for the past few days.

You busy yourself with unnecessarily reorganizing the items in your bag, trying to ignore how bright the lights are. It feels like a spotlight.

"Hi, Y/n."

You look up to see Jeongin standing next to you, smiling in a white shirt and basketball shorts. His hair is ruffled, and somewhere in the cold, dead depths of your hardly-beating heart, you realise it's because the boys have been messing it up with their constant affection of the maknae. The thought makes you feel nothing. You are numb.

You don't reply, instead giving him a curt nod and picking up your waterbottle. You walk and place it on the cabinets against the back wall just as the others filter into the room. Jeongin shrugs and decides to leave you alone, apparently unbothered by your lack of response. Maybe he thought you were just tired.

Good, you think grimly. I don't want him to notice, nor do I care if he does. Just leave me alone.

Your eyes flicker to Jisung and Minho as they move to put their belongings down. Jisung immediately goes off to mess with Felix, who is still sleepily waddling across the floorboards to Changbin. You look away, but not before your eyes catch Minho's. He locks his gaze with you and raises a pointed eyebrow, silently questioning.

You look away quickly, gritting your teeth so hard you swear you can taste blood. Your heart jerks and starts, sending a racing thud reverberating through the hollow shell of your body.

He knows. He knows. He knows.

You see him begin to move towards you in your peripheral and you exhale when Chan claps his hands, moving to start the practice. Despite how much your head hurts, and the fact that you can hardly see let alone dance, you're grateful for the interruption, and dedicate your entire focus to the choreography.

Minho eyes you during a slower part of the routine but you don't look at him. Or anyone. The most you do is glance at Seungmin to check if he's placed where he needs to be before you move past him to the middle. Your vision deteriorates and drowns into dizzy black spots with every movement, but you push on.

Your head pulses dully with an aching pain and there's simply no energy left in your body. You grit your teeth and keep going, trying to will strength from within.

I can last til the end of the choreo. Just a little longer-

You exhale sharply and suddenly then, as if you've been punched hard in the gut. Your vision clouds over completely and you briefly panic as you can't see anything, but you find your limbs still moving. The last thing you know before you pass out is the feeling of the cold, polished floor against your cheek, a dull thud against your head, and a panicked yell from one of the members.

You close your eyes.

.

"Y/n. Y/nnie, wake up..."

"Is she okay?"

"Did anyone see what happened?"

"Y/n!"

Groggily, you open your eyes, and immediately hiss from the glare of the bright white lights above you. You're lying on the floor, where you dizzily remember yourself falling. You try and weakly lift a hand to cover your eyes, until Chan's head and broad shoulders moves into view above you, blocking it completely.

You exhale a small sigh of relief, even though the swimming black dots in your vision are making it hard for you to see anything at all. Your head throbs even worse than before; you must have hit it before you fell and passed out.

Even through all of that, you can see the look on Chan's face; half concern, the other half an equal mix of affection and sternness. You can't do anything but let out a weak groan as someone kneels down next to you, pressing something cold to the back of your neck.

"Take it easy," you hear Changbin saying from above you. You feel a pair of strong arms lift you to a sitting position and the movement makes a swelling pang of dizziness shoot through your skull like hot lightning. You feel sick and feverish.

"Y/n," you hear Chan saying through the haze. "What happened?"

You can't hold back the tears from spilling down your cheeks, however dehydrated you are. They just keep coming and someone else wipes them away with a gentle brush of fingers.

This is your fault. You can't even keep up with them and now you're wasting their time by making them take care of you. Way to go, Y/n. Absolutely pathetic.

That same rush of irritation shoots through you again and you push Changbin's hands away from your shoulders. "Leave me alone."

He looks surprised but backs off anyway. Your vision clears momentarily and it's then that you notice all of the boys are standing around you, most of them in various stages of concern and confusion. You notice Felix tightly clutching Hyunjin's hand in worry, Jisung biting at his lip. Jeongin looks upset too, and even Seungmin has the decency to look mildly put out.

"Why aren't any of you dancing?" You say, confused.

"Because," Hyunjin puffs out dramatically, "One of our members decided to die in the middle of the choreography."

Ignoring the younger's comment, Chan places a gentle hand on your thigh. "Y/nnie, please talk to us. We're all worried. What happened?"

You scoff weakly and push Chan's hand away too, even though his warm, solid touch is comforting. He pulls back, looking mildly hurt, and you instantly kick yourself for it. It's Chan. Why did you have to go and do that?

"Nothing," you say. "I'm fine."

He lets out an exasperated groan and there are a few protests from the rest of the group. "Y/n, you literally collapsed on us. And you don't look well at all. Have you been sleeping lately?"

"Yes." Lie.

"Have you been pushing yourself too hard?"

"No." Lie.

"When was the last time you ate something?"

"This morning." Also a lie.

"We're not dumb, Y/n," Minho interrupts from where he's crouching near you. "I mean, we are sometimes, but we're not clueless, especially when it comes to you. Please let us in."

I can't.

"Okay," you whisper weakly, because you don't have the energy to argue. You feel so incredibly embarrassed and humiliated.

Chan sighs and hands you a bottle of water. You take a swig before putting it down.

"Practice is off, everyone," he says. "Let's regroup tomorrow. Good work."

"What are you doing?" You say on an exhale.

"Taking you home," he says firmly. "There's no way you're going to keep practicing after this. You need to rest and eat well for a while before you can join back in."

Your heart thuds hollowly in your chest. "But-"

"No buts. Please, Y/n. It's okay if you're not doing well, and we don't have to talk about it if you aren't ready, but we're not going to stand by and let you suffer like this, yeah?"

"Plus," Felix adds softly as he sits down next to you, "It's no fun when you're not around, so hurry and get better so you can join in again."

You look to Chan, defeated tears welling up in your eyes. You spot the slightest waver in his expression, but it remains firm and he helps you stand shakily to your feet without a word.

Minho walks over just as Jisung folds you into his arms, kissing the crown of your head.

"I'm sorry," you whimper to no one in particular.

"Shh, it's okay," Minho says, "Let's just get you back home and then you can rest, okay?"

You nod and let them lead you out the door.

.

The tangy fruitiness of the juice sends little bursts of flavour down your throat, and you sip a little more before placing the glass on your bedside table. You're looking out the window, though the curtains are drawn, and your hair is a mess, having slept ruffled against the pillow for around three hours now. The sun is beginning to set.

Jisung comes into the room, followed by Chan. You look towards them and sit a little higher up on the pillows as Jisung smooths a hand over your forehead.

"How are you feeling, Y/n?" Chan asks carefully as he sits on the bed.

"Better," you say quietly, even though certain thoughts still linger in the back of your mind.

"It's good that you slept a while," he continues. "Looked like you needed it."

"Yeah."

The room is silent for a while, and Jisung lies down next to you, his face pressed into your thigh. He lets out a muffled happy sound just as Minho comes into your room, holding a tray of soup.

He sets it down on the bedside table along with a banana, a glass of water, and a small packet of your favourite sweets before shamelessly flopping down onto the bed, making himself comfortable. Chan sighs before his hand reaches out to cover yours, which is picking at the blanket.

"Y/n," he says softly. "It's okay if you're struggling."

You shake your head, though what you're disagreeing with, you're not sure.

"It's okay," Chan says again. "It can be a lot, I know. And it's completely alright if you just need to take a break, yeah? That's allowed. But please don't punish yourself for it. You do so well and work so hard, and I know it feels wrong when you don't shine as much as you want to."

You stay silent, the sorrow beginning to weigh down on you again.

"Y/nnie," Chan says gently. "You can talk to us, okay? If you're struggling to take care of yourself, or if it's all just getting too much, come to us. We're all in the same boat."

"More like stuck with us in the same boat," Minho snickers from his position on top of Jisung.

Chan slaps the boy's thigh without taking his gaze off you. Ignoring Minho's whine of pain, he leans forward and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The simple gesture is so gentle and reassuring that tears well up in your eyes again, and you thank your stars that Jisung has plenty of electrolyte drinks in the kitchen because of how dehydrated you're becoming because of the crying.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"It's okay, Y/n," Jisung hums from your thigh. "We all have bad days."

"Just please, please come to us if you're not doing well, okay?" Chan says. "We all love you very much, and none of us want you to be struggling alone."

As if the universe has magically decided to prove his point, the door flies open and Hyunjin and Seungmin crash onto the floor, followed by a giggling Jeongin and Felix. Changbin stands disapprovingly behind them.

Chan presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "For goodness' sake."

But his words are drowned out by the mad scramble of the boys clambering onto your bed, heaping themselves on top of you in a mess of bickering, singing, and arguing.

Felix presses his cheek to yours. "I missed you."

You exhale a tiny laugh. "I wasn't even gone a day, Felix."

"I know," he replies earnestly. "But I missed you anyway. I wanted more than anything for you to be okay."

"Me too," Jeongin interrupts indignantly.

"Yeah, me too," Changbin adds matter-of-factly as he makes himself comfy on top of a squashed Hyunjin.

"Say you wanted her to be okay too, Seungmin!" Jisung pokes him hard in the ribs.

All you get in response is a begrudging nod and it makes the rest of the group burst out into laughter. Even Chan can't fight a fond smile.

And even if you're not doing well at the moment, you know in that moment that the rest of the members will always be there to fall back on, and the thought makes you relax, finally, your mind quieting and replacing the hollow feeling in your heart with a solid, steady warmth.

You are safe.

a/n: this was was longer than i anticipated

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

awww this is like a scene from a movie <3

ice cream & rain - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

summary: you and changbin get caught in the rain

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

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

"Binnie, careful!"

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

It definitely looks like he is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then the sun disappears.

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

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

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

You laugh. He looks like a wet chicken.

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

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

We're definitely going to get sick later.

a/n: i smiled so hard writing this

𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩 ⊹ 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧

pairing: bang chan x reader

summary: chan's been busy, so you decide to surprise him.

genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort, extreme softness, reader is a sweetheart, chan is also a sweetheart (but what's new), i cried writing this oops

a/n: happy birthday, channie ♡ (seungmin in the background) "chan you're half 56-"

The evening sun casts a golden glow across the rooftop of the studio, its last rays spilling over the horizon, tinting the sky in hues of pink and orange. The city below was alive with the hum of traffic and distant chatter, but up here, it felt like another world — quiet, intimate, serene.

Just the two of you.

Chan leans against the railing, a soft breeze ruffling his hair. He turns his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a playful smile. “I still can’t believe you managed to pull this off,” he says, his voice a mix of surprise and affection.

You smile, shrugging your shoulders casually. “Well, you’ve been working non-stop for weeks. I figured you deserved a break.”

It had taken weeks of secret planning, coordinating with the studio staff, and a few sneaky conversations with his members to set up this surprise. You’d transformed the usually empty rooftop into a small, cozy haven. It had taken a while, with several near-accidents (mainly involving a certain Han Jisung trying to hang up the lights, but you appreciated the help nonetheless).

Fairy lights twinkled above, casting a warm glow over the space. A small picnic setup was laid out with Chan’s favorite snacks, and in the centre was a guitar, propped against a chair.

He steps closer, his eyes scanning the space, clearly touched by the effort. “This is amazing,” he whispers, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining subconsciously.

“I wanted to do something special,” you admit, looking up at him. “You give so much of yourself to your music, your fans, and your members… you deserve a moment just for you.”

Chan chuckles softly, cheeks dusted pink, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You know, you didn’t have to go this far for me.”

“Of course I did,” you reply. “You work hard every single day. I see it, and I know how much it means to you, but I also know how much you need to breathe sometimes.”

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes soft as they gazed into yours. “I don’t think I thank you enough for always being there.”

You squeeze his hand softly, gazing at him. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to be happy.”

Chan pulls you into a gentle embrace, his chin resting on the top of your head. “You make me happier than you know,” he whispers. His voice, though quiet, carries the weight of his sincerity.

After a few moments, he pulls back slightly, his eyes twinkling with a familiar spark of adorable mischief. “Alright, what else do you have planned? I can tell there’s more.”

You grin, stepping back and gesturing toward the guitar. “I thought you might want to play something. You’ve been working on so much music, but I haven’t heard you play in ages.”

Chan’s eyes light up, and he reaches for the guitar, settling onto one of the cushions you’d laid out. He strums the strings lightly, testing the sound before looking up at you with a grin. “Anything you want to hear?”

You tilt your head thoughtfully. “How about something new? Something you haven’t shown anyone yet.”

He chuckles, his fingers already moving over the strings, creating a soft, melodic, lilting tune. “Alright, but this is still a work in progress.”

The melody that followed was gentle, the kind that made you close your eyes and lose yourself in the moment. His voice, smooth and filled with emotion, carried through the quiet evening, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. As he played, the world seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of you and the music, hung in the air, making the twinkling lights seem brighter with the shining, incandescent melody.

When the song came to an end, you open your eyes to find Chan watching you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What did you think?”

You sigh, completely in awe. “It was beautiful. You always manage to create something so… real.”

He blushes slightly at the compliment, setting the guitar aside and reaching for your hand again. “Thank you,” he murmurs, “for all of it. This- everything… it’s so perfect.”

You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder as the golden hour fades into twilight. “You’re welcome,” you whisper. “But it’s only perfect because you’re here.”

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, watching the stars begin to twinkle in the sky. Your hand, the one that isn't holding Chan's moves to your pocket, slipping inside to brush against something. You glance at Chan to see if he's noticed, but he's too busy looking at the twinkling fairy lights, the golden shine reflected in his dark eyes.

He looks so beautiful.

Your voice comes out a hushed, almost reverent whisper.

"Chan?"

He hums, dragging his gaze away from the lights and onto your face. His eyes seem to shine even brighter, and he smiles, making an all-too familiar warmth settle in the pit of your stomach. You inhale.

"Do you remember when we first came up here?"

He nods, recalling the memory. You know it's one of his favourites.

"I was getting stressed from all the schedules we had planned. I was supposed to fly out to Shanghai for the fanmeeting and concert the next day... I got so close to honestly just crying, and you came up onto the roof after Felix snitched to you about where I was."

You smile ruefully, remembering it all too well. Chan continues.

"I remember you told me that it would all be okay, and you gave me this," he shows you his hand, a silver ring with a movable chain running through the middle. "You said that you noticed I was fidgeting a lot recently because of the stress, so you got me this to help me stop messing with my hands."

He spins the little chain twice with a smile before continuing.

"I remember flying out the next day, sitting on the plane, watching the ground fall away, taking me away. From home, from you. But you told me before I left that the ring was a little part of you, that I could take with me while we weren't physically together," Chan's eyes are suspiciously bright. He takes a shaky breath, smiling.

"I never took it off, even when I slept. The stylists kept getting frustrated with me because I refused to take it off, even when it didn't match what I was wearing. But I kept it on, during the fanmeeting, the concert, the activities with the Kids, everywhere, all the time. Minho used to say to me during the trip, "Hyung, did she glue the ring to your finger?"."

Chan laughs then, and so do you. He had pretty much kept it on all the time.

"Even when I returned, I kept wearing it. It stopped being a part of you and became a part of us. I felt wrong without it, and during the recent events where the stylists insisted I take it off, I wore it on a chain."

You giggle, leaning into him. "I remember you ran to hug me after the concert and the chain hit my cheek. I wondered what you were doing, wearing it all the time."

Chan huffs a small laugh, exhaling. "It's a part of me now. Forever."

Your smile fades, replaced with a soft, affectionate look.

"Channie, I did all this tonight because I wanted you to have a break. But I also did this because I need you to know how much I love you. You mean so much to me, and you're always spoiling me and doing things for me, so I wanted to give back. I know that love isn't grand gestures or fairy lights or guitar music, but you deserve this. So much.

And I'm glad you played the song for me. It was so beautiful, it felt like I was floating up into the air, I felt so free and at peace. I know you always say that music is the way to capture emotions, but no song could ever capture how I feel for you, or how much I love you. Music helps us to express our emotions and fond memories, but no melody, harmony, or tune could ever express how much you mean to me. And it's frustrating because I want you to know, I want you to be able to feel it-"

"I do feel it," Chan interrupts, grabbing your hand and gazing into your eyes with a soft smile. "During the hectic last-minute dance practices with Hyunjin, where you cheer me on, or during late night conversations, our chaotic dates, or all-nighter studio producing sessions. I feel your love wherever I go, because it's always with me. It chases me like a light and spills into everything that I do."

You smile, squeezing his hand again, and continuing a little quieter. "I've been by your side through everything, Chan. The moments of joy, the quiet sadness, the doubt, the excitement. I've seen it all. I've been right next to you through it all, and you always tell me that I'm your biggest supporter, your best friend, and more than you ever thought you deserved. But you do deserve it, Chan. All of it. I always try to make moments like this perfect for you, but the truth is, any moment with you already is. Whether we’re laughing, or even just sitting in silence… I realised that I've been searching for something, and all along, it was right in front of me.

When you're working away at producing with me on your lap, when we're running through the streets at night holding hands, taking photos of each other at ridiculous angles, and fighting over the last chip, it's perfect. Even during the rare moments when we disagree, or get frustrated with each other, that's perfect too. Because no matter what either of us feels, or what we're going through or facing, I know I can turn around, and you'll always be there. And you know I'd do the same for you, in a heartbeat. Always.

Channie, I know you always say that I'm a part of you, and so is that ring you never take off, and the chain too. I know my happiness and sadness and doubt and fear and love and affection is exactly what you feel, too. The members always joke and poke fun about how we're glued to the hip and can't go a day without each other, but for once, they couldn't be more right."

You let out a shaky exhale, eyes meeting Chan's.

"I know you love that silver ring, Channie, but I want to replace it."

You smile softly and reach up to wipe away a glittering tear from your cheek. With a startled realisation that Chan is also crying, you smile softly before reaching across to do the same for him, your voice soft.

"Bang Christopher Chan, will you marry me?"

a/n: happy chan week, everyone. i hope someone does this one day for him, he deserves it all ♡

the fast lane : part 3 (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, soft minho, brief mention of a past injury (read part two for context if you haven't already) reader gets tangled up in a mess, angsty chan and minho wc 3.2 k

series masterlist

part 3 : porcelain and gold

Y/n groaned for the millionth time, banging her forehead on the wheel. Her hands clenched the cool leather beneath her fingertips and she let out a heaving sigh, squeezing her eyes shut.

The arena was bright and silent, glaring floodlights casting an almost blinding glow onto the lined up cars. The road was cool and damp, fresh from the light rain. The sky was murky with early-morning fog, shades of yellow and orange peeking out from behind the clouds. Y/n could distantly hear birdsong and the noise of the city upstreet, but right now, everything was quiet. Racing on the empty track, devoid of any obstacles or cars reassured Y/n a little, and she knew that if she made a mistake, nothing too bad would happen. But she still felt tense.

Sighing and starting the car again, she drove to the side tarmac, rolling down the window and cutting the revving engine.

Minho leaned down, forearms resting on the window frame. He tilted his head and pressed a couple fingers lightly into her shoulder, firm but gentle. Y/n looked up.

"That was better," he said quietly, nodding.

Y/n sighed, defeated. "It's not good enough-"

Minho interrupted, "Do you think I would have offered to get up this fucking early to train you for no reason? No. You're doing well, okay? It's just the turns that you need to work on."

Y/n bit her lip, fighting the rising pit of anxiety in her stomach. Opening the door, she stepped out and leaned against the cool surface of the car, trying to slow her breathing. Minho said nothing, simply letting her recuperate. When Y/n finally opened her eyes, she looked straight up at the man standing in front of her, eyes tired but sincere.

"I really do appreciate this, Minho, but I don't feel that I'm getting any better. It just feels like I'm going in circles."

Minho blinked. "You are going in circles. That's the whole point."

Y/n's mouth lifted up at the corners and she chuckled, punching the man lightly on the shoulder. He grinned and leaned against the car- his car- next to her.

Y/n had decided to take a couple days' break from racing, instead focusing on getting back to 100 percent. The cut in her neck had healed slowly, leaving her with nothing but a small, white scar on her nape. Her head felt better too, no longer bruised or sore. Since the street races ran almost every night, Y/n had decided to go back a couple days after the night when Minho had dropped her home.

She'd found him lurking around the backstage arena, watching the races. He had looked up in surprise, barely-masked, thankful relief, and something else. Some glint in his eyes that Y/n couldn't quite pinpoint. He'd unexpectedly smiled when Y/n had walked up to him and shyly proffered him a lollipop, exactly like the one he'd been sucking on the night she hit her head. Y/n remembered the way he'd almost immediately stuffed it in his mouth, smiling around the thin, white stick.

You'd both spent the night up in the arena stands, out of the light and out of the other racers' sight. Just quietly observing, testing the waters around each other. Y/n had felt tense at being in such close proximity with him, but it had slowly melted away over the next few hours.

Minho was actually quite funny. In a sadistic, sarcastic way, but Y/n adored it nonetheless. He was quiet and intellectual, but ambitious and unafraid. He was a contradiction in all of the best ways.

She'd continued visiting him at the arena most nights, and you would both often end up in the stands, talking into the early hours of the morning about various things. But as much as they talked, Y/n continued to feel as if she didn't know much about him at all. Minho had a way of dodging questions smoothly and turning them on her, often so seamlessly that she didn't even realise until she replayed her interactions with him in her mind later on.

This little routine of visiting had continued for about a week and a half, and Y/n was simply content to keep it that way. But Minho had other ideas, telling her one night that she'd benefit from training instead of just winging her races. Y/n had denied it, retorting with the fact that she had no one to teach her. She'd thought about asking Chan, but she didn't trust him at all, and besides, he seemed to be too busy working on or fixing his car, racing (and winning, unfortunately), and flirting with the pretty women fawning over his racecar. She had told Minho about the ordeal with Chan the first night they'd met, and how cocky he was. Minho had simply nodded.

"We used to be close friends," he'd told her. "But we don't talk anymore."

Then he'd changed the subject.

Used to be. Y/n wondered if something had happened between them. Did they fall out? Did they decide not to talk anymore for some unknown reason? Or did they both just choose their separate pathways and slowly lose their connection with each other?

Y/n wanted so badly to ask Minho about what had happened, but it felt wrong, almost demanding. Seeing as he had been so kind to her, Y/n felt that it was rude to ask him something so personal, even if she wasn't sure why he had decided to befriend her in the first place. And if she was being honest, Y/n also felt that he wasn't really the kind of person who would welcome such a personal question with an open heart and mindset.

She also wasn't really sure if she and Minho were friends. Sure, he was nice and all, but could she really trust him? What if he was just like Chan? What could he possibly be trying to achieve by befriending her?

No, Y/n shook her head. He wasn't like that, she was sure of it.

Said man's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Blinking up at him, she stopped dead in her tracks. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even realised they'd left the arena.

They were standing in front of a little cafe. Y/n recognised it briefly, realising she'd passed it so many times before during her walks to the arena. She'd never stopped to look at it. It was quite pretty, and-

Minho flicked her forehead.

"Ow," she whined, hands pressing over the sore spot. "What'd you do that for? And why are we here-"

Minho rolled his eyes. "Well, I flicked your forehead because you've been in your head all day. You didn't even realise when we left the arena. I'm not sure you even knew that you were walking. And secondly, I'm hungry and this place has good food. Come on."

He took her hand and tugged her inside, the little bell above the shop door tingling. He led her to a little table booth in the far corner, pushing her lightly to sit down. It was a light push but Minho's standards, but Y/n knew that sometimes he forgot his own considerable strength and she almost stumbled, landing on the cushioned booth seat with an oof. Minho disappeared for a few minutes and Y/n realised he'd gone to the front to get something to eat. She hadn't brought money with her to buy anything, but she wasn't really hungry, so she sat back and looked out the window, waiting for him to return.

The cafe was modern but cute, boho-chic furnishings making up the majority of the wooden tables and chairs. The rest of the tables and chairs were white, and it all contrasted nicely against the various, lush, potted plants spilling their vines and leaves down wooden, high-set shelves. The counter up the front had a display glass lining its expanse, and behind it were stocked all sorts of pastries and other food. The place was pretty much empty and Y/n wondered why before realising that it was extremely early. Not even caffeine-lovers came down to buy their daily coffee this early. The lights were off, and there was no need for them to be on, since the sunlight spilling into the cafe from the large windows illuminated everything in a soft, golden glow. Y/n began to feel sleepy.

Minho walked up, holding two mugs and a slice of cheesecake on a pretty silver tray. He set it down and pushed one of the mugs towards her. The rich scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted into her face, filling her lungs with a pleasantly soft, warm, and spicy aroma. She inhaled deeply before looking up at Minho questioningly.

"Is this for me?" she said quietly, almost hesitantly.

He took a big gulp from his own mug before setting it down and inclining his head. "Yeah."

Y/n felt a warm flush tingle on her cheeks. "You didn't have to, Minho."

He rolled his eyes and took another gulp from the mug. "You're right, I didn't have to, but I wanted to. But if you don't want it, feel free to starve," he took one of the forks from the tray and cut the cheesecake slice into two halves, putting one on his tea plate and pushing the other half towards her. Y/n smiled.

"Cheesecake?"

Minho nodded. "Mmm. My friend loves it. I always order it when I come here. Reminds me of him."

Y/n smiled sincerely, staying quiet. She filed away this unexpected piece of personal information into a hidden chamber of her heart. The last thing she wanted to do was scare him into closing up again, and she nodded her head in acknowledgement before taking a sip from her mug.

The sweet, intoxicating heat of vanilla foam and the spicy, gingerbread-like taste of cinnamon flooded her body and she sagged back into the booth seat.

"Oh," she groaned. "This is so good..."

She heard Minho chuckle. Feeling a little bolder, she sat upright again and glanced at him curiously. He was dressed in black leather, a dark grey hoodie under his leather jacket. She could hear his combat boots absentmindedly tapping on the floor. His hair shone a lighter purplish-brown under the sunlight spilling onto the table, and his eyes were lightened to a honey brown. Y/n noticed his hands fiddling with the handle of his mug, the fingertips running up and down the smooth, ceramic surface. Y/n wondered if he was nervous, or perhaps upset about something.

"Min, are you okay?" she asked gently and quietly.

"Hmm? Yeah, sorry," he blinked at her, as if he'd snapped out of a daze. Y/n felt a knot of worry settle in the pit of her stomach, and feeling brazen, she reached out and placed a slender, much smaller hand over his. Heat from his hand flooded into hers.

Minho looked up in surprise, his fidgeting stopping. They locked eyes for a moment before Y/n pulled her hand away slowly, unsure of his reaction. She kicked herself mentally, worried she'd overstepped a boundary.

To Y/n's surprise, he chuckled. He didn't move his hand or snap at her like she had expected him to. He looked her right in the eyes, and Y/n swore for a second that there was a flash of gratefulness in his gaze. Y/n's palm froze and she smiled back, almost uncertainly.

Then, to complete this entirely unlikely scenario, Minho took her hand, calloused fingertips brushing her wrist, and placed it between his palms. Again, he was firm and gentle; not too much force, nor too little. Simply steady and reassuring.

Heat flooded Y/n's cheeks. She hadn't expected that he would be so open to her affection. He noticed her scarlet cheeks and smirked, his voice coming a little lower than before.

"You called me Min."

Y/n squeaked in embarrassment and looked away, flushing. She attempted to pull her hand out of his grip, but he was unrelenting.

"It-it was just a heat of the moment thing," she stuttered.

Minho laughed, the sound light like the foam in her mug. "Heat of the moment? Are you sure that's the phrase you were going for?"

"Shut up."

Minho chuckled before settling back into the booth seat. "It's fine, by the way."

"What is?"

He huffed a little. "I don't mind you calling me Min. But not in a sappy, lovey-dovey way, got it?"

Y/n lifted her mug to her mouth in order to hide her smile.

-

Minho opened the door to the passenger seat of his racecar, slamming the door shut. He didn't bother putting his seatbelt on, and Y/n chided him before revving the engine and speeding off. They'd returned to the arena after spending almost two and a half hours in the cafe, both of them having been too caught up in their animated conversation to notice the time passing by.

The arena was still empty, and the afternoon sun shone high in the sky. The floodlights hadn't turned on yet, and it was the sun that caught the sleek angles and edges of Minho's car as Y/n steered it around the arena track. Her hands gripped the smooth leather of the wheel and her feet danced across the pedals as Minho instructed her through the turns.

"Good, that's it- turn a little more, angle the car."

Y/n did as he said, fingers digging into the steering wheel as she sped up and executed the turn perfectly.

Minho let out a whoop of triumph and Y/n laughed in disbelief, pulling the car to the side of the track. She stumbled out and so did Minho, who swooped her up in a sudden, unexpected hug.

"Took you long enough," he said, grinning. He set her back down onto the tarmac, cheeks flushed. Whether it was in exhilaration or something else, Y/n didn't know. She was too happy to care.

The laughter died down and Y/n gazed up at Minho, his dark eyes locking with her own. They both stood there, Minho's arms encircling Y/n's waist where he'd lifted her, and her arms clutching his broad shoulders where she'd held on. He looked so pretty, the sun smoothing all his features into ivory porcelain and molten gold. Y/n saw his cheek tuck in slightly, like he was biting the inside of it. He leaned down slightly, and opened his mouth to say something, a slight flash of guilt flickering in his eyes, and then-

"What a performance."

Y/n and Minho both jerked their hands off each other like they'd been caught doing something wrong.

Chan was walking across the tarmac towards them. He was clapping slowly and the sound echoed throughout the arena, causing an unpleasant chill to run down Y/n's spine. One of Minho's hands was still on her waist and she felt it tighten infinitesimally around her hip.

Chan reached them, smirking. He had put his hands into the pockets of his racing suit, the same black and red one he'd worn the night Y/n had met him. This time, she disliked him even more.

Chan's smile faded as his eyes flitted to Minho. Y/n glanced up at her friend just as his hand dropped from her waist. He looked suddenly pale.

"Minho?" she said hesitantly. But he didn't seem to hear, his eyes fixed on the racer. Y/n saw the lines of his shoulders tense just as Chan spoke.

"I didn't think you'd have the guts to show up here, Minho," his voice was cool and calm, yet tinted with an undertone of menace.

"I've been here spectating most nights."

"I know," Chan's voice lowered. "I meant here. On the tracks. You know, after..."

Y/n heard Minho suck in a breath.

Chan was seemingly oblivious to the tense atmosphere. Stepping closer to Minho, he looked him dead in the eyes. Y/n swore she could have cut the tension in the air with a knife. She stumbled back unsurely as Chan's shoulder nudged her as he passed. He was so close to Minho, so close that Y/n could see that there was only a few centimeters worth of space between them. She could see Chan trembling and she took another step back, unsure if they were about to fight, or worse.

Minho had gone as still as a statue, and Y/n could see the cracks appearing in his nonchalant facade. Chan was still too, but in an entirely different way. Where Minho was tense, Chan was shaking.

Like he was holding back.

Y/n heard a string of unfamiliar, garbled words come out of Chan's mouth and she shook her head a little, frowning, before she realised Chan was speaking a different language. It sounded Japanese, Korean maybe? She wasn't sure. A wave of guilt washed over her. They clearly did not want her to understand, or become a part of whatever it was they were fighting over. It didn't look much like a fight, nor a disagreement. Y/n had no clue what it was, but she knew it was something serious.

Chan spoke again, this time with a hint of venom in his tone. Even though she couldn't understand what he was saying, she could clearly tell he was blaming Minho for something. Minho looked like he was about to cry, or run away, or hit Chan. Or all three.

With a final spit of venom-laced Korean, Chan turned and stormed away, not sparing Y/n a second glance. She stumbled a step back, feeling a nauseous mix of guilt, anger at Chan, worry for Minho, shameful curiousness at both, and more than all of that, fear. Taking a second to come to herself, she turned to her friend, unsure of whether to speak. The sun had set, and Minho's features were no longer ivory and molten gold. The dawning twilight had hardened his face into a mask of cracked stone, the haphazard gaps run through with dripping silvery gunmetal. Y/n realised with a startled confusion that he was crying.

What had Chan said to him, she wondered. Turning back to the direction Chan had stormed off in, she bit her lip, trying to decide between consoling her friend and asking the other clearly angry racer if he was okay. She disliked Chan, but the stark deviation from his cocky, ambitious, flirty demeanor to the solemn, almost devastated expression he'd held as he spat made Y/n's heartstrings twitch. She couldn't help but feel as if she'd tangled herself up in a much bigger problem, and the fine hair on the back of her neck and her arms stood up at the thought. Her blood began to frost over in her veins, and she felt upset for some reason, like the entire dispute had been her fault. A dull, ugly thud echoed from behind her.

Minho had collapsed to the ground.

a/n: ooooooohh.....

asking skz hyung line - "would you still love me if i was a worm?"

pairing: ot8 hyung line x reader

summary: you ask skz hyung line if they would love you if you were a worm.

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, crack

a/n: lmk if you guys want the maknaes !

bang chan

chuckles when you ask him

then goes quiet

he def thinks for a moment before answering

is mildly confused by the question but his eyes are twinkling as he replies

hes so soft and gentle about it pls

"A worm, huh? Well, i'd probably be super confused at first, because the love of my life suddenly turned into a worm, but i would find a way to keep you safe. Maybe i would make a little worm home for you, with the best soil so you could be happy and live a comfortable life. But honestly, it doesn’t matter what, or who you are. Love isn't about appearances; it’s about the connection we have. So, yeah, even if you were a worm, I'd still love you. I’d probably talk to you all the time, even if you couldn’t talk back to me. And knowing you, you'd still find a way to make me smile, even as a little worm."

lee know

almost instantly jokes about frying you in the airfryer with hyunjin

starts googling 'tasty worm recipes'

but when he notices that you're serious about it he stops and reassures you he's joking

looks at you for a long time, head tilted

when he responds it's very thoughtful

"Well, I'd probably have to find a nice garden for you. Maybe you'd enjoy digging around in the dirt, finding cozy spots to burrow into... But honestly, I’d still care for you. It might be strange, but love isn’t something that disappears just because of a change in appearance. I’d find a way to keep you safe, and who knows? Maybe I'd learn to appreciate worms a lot more. I’d probably keep you in my pocket so we could still go everywhere together. It’d be different, but I’d still love you all the same."

changbin

bursts out laughing at the question

100% caught off guard

smiles wider and wider as he responds

is very animated and keeps gesturing with his hands

starts looking online for pet worms so he can buy one and show you how well he would take care of it as proof

"A worm? You’re really asking me that? I don’t think I’d ever expect to hear you ask me something like that. But okay, let’s see… if you were a worm, I’d make sure you had the best worm life possible. I’d probably take you on all my adventures, keeping you safe in a little jar or something. You being a worm wouldn’t change how I feel. I’d probably talk to you every day, telling you about my day and everything i did. Oh, and i would make you little protein shakes so you can be a strong worm. So, yeah, even if you were, I’d still love you. You’d be my special little worm."

hyunjin

ah, our romantic lover boy...

smiles softly when you first ask him

slowly becomes more thoughtful as he thinks about his reply

when he speaks, it's soft and tinged with affection

he loves you with all his heart but he secretly hopes you don't turn into an actual worm (he doesn't like slimy things)

"A worm? Well, if you were a worm, I’d probably carry you around in a little glass vial, close to my heart. I’d talk to you and make sure you’re safe and comfortable. It’d be a strange situation, but I’d find a way to make it work. Love isn’t just about what someone looks like. It’s about how they make you feel, and you make me feel loved and happy and complete. So even if you were a worm, I’d still love you. I’d probably end up writing cute poems about you on little pieces of paper, my little worm muse."

a/n: should i do the maknaes? comment if you want a second part !

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

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

band aid - kim seungmin

pairing: kim seungmin x reader

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

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

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

"Seung, the album arrived!"

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

It was a win-win situation.

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let's go listen to the tracks."

a/n: seungmin in the album yall

Your Skz 9th member was so good, you really know how to write the members so well, their relationships with each other are perfect 😍 you should definitely write more 9th member

thank you so much anon ! yeah i definitely will once i get time and think up some new plotlines.

keep an eye out for updates !

Hey,i literally just met you few days ago and your posts are so ADDICTIVE like LITERALLY i just wanna ask you when your posting "stupidly perfect" (im so sorry if i said the title wrong) just when are you posting part 3 obv your health comes first

hi that's so sweet of you !! part 3 of the series is already out, part 4 is coming soon hehe . you said it right, don't worry love <3

keep an eye out for updates !!

opal - lee know

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: you and leeknow go to the rescue shelter

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, cats, not proofread, brief mentions of an injury, yes i know writing leeknow fics about cats is very typical but it's so wholesome

a/n: almost to 100 !

"Minho, look at this one!"

You grin and jump up and down on the spot, moving to tug your boyfriend away from the rescue shelter's notice board. You pull him over to the cages to stare through the bars. He blinks, and a big-eyed black cat stares right back.

"Little thing," he muses, poking a finger through the cage bars. The cat hisses wildly and swipes at Minho, drawing a thin, clean line of blood on his palm.

You let out an "oh!" of dismay and tug his hand out, but Minho doesn't blink, not even when you use your sleeve to wipe away the scarlet liquid. He simply blinks again before poking his unoccupied hand through the bars again, trying to tug his injured hand out of your grip.

"Stop it, you're hurt!"

"It's just a scratch."

You huff, keeping a firm grip on his wrist, trying insistently to get him to listen. As expected, he doesn't, simply looking at you with a dismissive sigh and turning his attention back to the cat, which is now a fluffy, frightened ball, backing up against the far end of its cage. Minho lowers his voice, speaking in a quiet, reassuring voice to the cat. You fight a smile.

"You know," he says softly to the frightened ball of dark fluff, "I have three cats at home. Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. They've scratched me lots of times, especially when I first got them. I'm not mad that you scratched me. It's okay."

Your heart melts as a smile pushes its way onto your lips. It's cute that he's talking to it, but-

"Minho, it's a cat. I'm not sure it understands-"

"It does," he says softly.

And sure enough, the dark fur of the cat is no longer ruffled and raised. It's crept up to the bars of the cage, inquisitively tilting its head at Minho, who tilts his own in return. He grins.

"See?" he says triumphantly. "It does understand."

You hum affectionately and bend down a little to peer into the cat's eyes, still holding Minho's cut hand. They're a rich, pretty shade of blue, a bit like opals, and they catch the light as they tilt to your face. You smile a little and reach out a finger, letting the cat sniff it curiously.

You've made up your mind. "Let's get this one."

Minho nods, smiling. He stands up, looking to the volunteer, and asks for the adoption paperwork. She runs off to get it. He turns back to the cat, who's now pawing at the bars of his cage, purring up at Minho.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" he says softly, tone hushed.

You nod. "Pretty eyes."

Minho chuckles, tapping the cage door lightly. "We'll get him home soon enough. Oh, and Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"You can let go of my hand now."

a/n: hmmm not sure if i like it but i need to write more fics for minho TT