‧₊ A Little Bit Sweeter - (roommate!han Jisung X Reader) ˚‧

SO! something happened to my last account so it lowk got deactivated OOPS!! but js call me kanu!!

lol that happened to me once . . .

ye sure

Does anyone else feel lonesome?

Not lonely. Not alone. Just... lonesome. Like you don't feel connected to anyone. Like you never feel that you will find anyone that understands you, that will see you truly, let alone someone who will even like you. You see friends everywhere, but you don't see yourself in their place, like that is not for you, like you're not made for that and that's not made for you. You see people having fun and laughing and dancing and getting drunk and falling in love and you just... don't feel that for yourself. Like you're not supposed to have that, like you can't because it's not for you and you're not for it.

Like you're supposed to be seeing all these beautiful things in the world but not experience them yourself. Like you want to experience so much, experience everything, but be overwhelmed by it so you don't do any of it.

Like you want to be everywhere and do everything, but you don't belong anywhere and can't do anything. Like you're not supposed to be here. Not in a self-deprecating way but in an incongruous way. You want to live you want to be alive, but you feel you're not supposed to be. Not here at least, not like this. Just a presence in the world, not an active member of it. Even your body doesn't feel like home, your face isn't a face you recognise, like you're not supposed to have either. Like you're just supposed to be.

Like you're supposed to observe, but not experience.

batter up - kim seungmin

pairing: baseball captain! kim seungmin x baseball player! reader

summary: you're struggling with baseball practice until a certain captain steps in to help (or make fun of you. whichever way you wanna see it.)

genre: fluff, college baseball team! au, dry humour seungmin, baseball duh

a/n: seungmin please i need more baseball content... divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

The baseball hits the chain-link fence with a reverberating clang.

You groan and throw your glove down, stomping one foot in frustration. It's childish and dumb, but it helps to dissipate some of the growing irritation building in your gut.

This is stupid.

Surely someone with your skill set should be able to throw a baseball in the right direction. And normally, you would be able to. But for some reason, the throws from the last few weeks have been violently misguided and your usually-accurate hand has somehow forgotten to catch a baseball, let alone throw it correctly.

You sigh and take another from the ball cart; lifting your left knee, you turn before pegging the ball with a grunt at the batter's base. It flies off-target and instead pummels into the ground, to the left of the base. A cloud of dust rises in its wake.

You sigh and take another ball, picking up a stand and setting it up at the batter's base. Adjusting the height, you place the ball on the small cup at the top and position yourself, raising the bat over your shoulder.

Swinging with full force, you bring the bat across yourself and whoosh past the ball, missing it completely. It shifts a little on the stand and you sigh before trying again.

Whoosh. Another miss.

Whoosh. And another.

"Shit," you curse, adjusting your hold on the bat. The grip-wrapped metal is slippery and beginning to warm under your fingers, the rough tape sanding against your palms.

You bring the bat down in a knowingly hopeless, half-baked attempt of effort, hoping to at least knock the ball a few metres away. But when you bring your hands down, the bat is no longer within them.

Blinking at your hands in confusion, you turn and see it suspended above your head, the metal tip several inches from your forehead. Behind it is a snickering grin.

Kim Seungmin.

He'd caught the bat from your grip before you swung. A sudden thought flashes through your mind; had he been watching? All that time, seeing all those miserable fails...

You scowl and snatch the bat off him, almost hyperextending your wrist in the process, because he doesn't let go. You tug on it and he does, and you stumble back a little before glaring at him.

"Shouldn't stand near the batter," you huff at him. "S' dangerous."

"I know," Seungmin replies, not missing a beat. "Should've put that much effort into your swing at last week's game."

You mimic his voice in a whiny, teasing lilt and toss the bat down with a thud into the dusty dirt, your back to him.

"Whatever, Seungmin," you scowl. "I was trying, you know."

"Didn't seem like it. And it's Captain to you."

You throw your hands up, turning to face him. "Play at baseball Captain all you want, but you're not any good at it. Good captains try to help their teammates instead of cutting them down."

Your sharp tone does nothing to intimidate Seungmin, because he crouches to pick up the bat, nudging you aside with it. Huffing, you let him.

Seungmin lines himself up at the base, swinging effortlessly with the bat and sending the still-stationary baseball into the sky. It disappears momentarily and then lands somewhere beyond the fence with a distant, faint thud.

"There," he says dryly, turning to you. "Like that."

You snatch the bat from him, packing as much sarcasm into your words as humanly possible. "And how exactly do I swing like that, oh great Captain Seungmin?" You point the bat at him.

He looks at you for a moment.

Then he grabs the end of the metal bat and tugs, hard. Quite sharply. Since you're still gripping it, you stumble forward, almost into his chest. Your nose brushes his collar as he pushes your shoulder forward, guiding the bat above your head.

Your back is to his chest now, and Seungmin leans down to align his eyesight with yours, levelling his view.

"See that?" He says quietly. He raises a hand, the one not occupied with maintaining your grip on the bat, and points to somewhere in the sky. "Aim there."

You scoff. "I can't hit that high."

Seungmin exhales, a puff of breath stirring the hair by your ear. "You're not trying to hit high. You're trying to hit far. And when you swing, level your grip as the bat comes down. More stable that way."

He says this as his hand places itself over yours, squeezing lightly to firm your grip on the bat. He shifts your hand a little lower and then points again to the sky.

"Right there, okay?"

"Okay," you whisper. He's standing so close.

You level your grip just a tiny bit under Seungmin's hand, suddenly afraid he might take it away from its current position on top of yours, but he doesn't. His hand remains there, oddly comforting. You adjust your fingers a little more, and the bat begins to feel a lot more steady under your shared palms.

"Good," he murmurs. "Just like that."

Seungmin steps back suddenly, backing up a few paces and positioning himself where he can't possibly be hit by the bat if you let go. You glance at him and then at the ball, blinking. He must have put another on the stand while you were busy huffing at his earlier blatancy.

You exhale and then swing, adjusting your hands as the bat comes down. To your tremendous surprise, the ball knocks off the stand with a cling and goes flying into the sky, disappearing. It comes down to the earth somewhere just beyond the fence.

You drop the bat and gape at Seungmin in disbelief.

He looks very self-satisfied; his usual I-told-you-so look is painting the expanse of his face, but there's something warm about it. Like he's proud. Knowing him, he's probably just glad you won't disadvantage the team in future games with your haphazard batting, but you appreciate it all the same.

He stares back for a few seconds, his blue team jersey fluttering in the wind. Yours does the same, but it's disheveled and tucked at the waist where you've been swinging and pitching.

Neither of you move. Then seemingly regaining his bearings, Seungmin flits his gaze away and waves a dismissive hand, his snarky demeanour returning.

"Finally," he drawls sarcastically, though it's a tiny bit less confident than before. "You learned how to swing a bat properly. Congratulations."

You offer a kind middle finger in response, and a sudden, unexpected grin bubbles out of you, a slight laugh escaping your mouth. Seungmin graces you with the tiniest presence of a smile. He checks his watch before waving you off.

"Practice tomorrow, don't forget." He calls bluntly over his shoulder, walking past you and off the pitch. Most likely heading to his dorm room.

You nod and pick up the bat, intending to get a couple more hits in before you pack up for the night. A blush tints your cheeks, your hands buzzing from the brief contact. You feel all floaty and optimistic.

Back in the safety of his own dorm room, Seungmin stands facing himself in the mirror, feeling the exact same way.

a/n: *as we are playing in the distance*

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

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

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

series masterlist

part 5 : white knight and black knight

"You ready?" Jisung asked.

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

He was just so easy to be friends with.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, not focused.

Tense.

Like he was worried about something.

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

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

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

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

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

Out of his way, most likely.

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

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

The instant the green signal flared, they were off.

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

How had he gotten there so fast?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her hands tightened on the wheel. This is it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was beautiful.

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

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

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

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

"Yes?"

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

"Um, congratulations. For winning the race."

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

"Thank you."

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

"Stealing Jisung's things, hmm?"

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

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

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

All this time?

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

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

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

"Don't get cocky, rookie."

"Okay."

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

Y/n watched him go.

☆★☆

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

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

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

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

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

"Um, your car-"

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

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

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

Opposites.

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

White knight and black knight.

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

"I'm sorry."

What?

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

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

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

"Oh. Um- it's okay."

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

"I thought you'd be pissed."

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

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

"You look like a pufferfish," she snickered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let's go sit down."

☆★☆

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

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

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

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

"Jisung?"

"Hmm?"

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

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

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

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

"Oh, we know him all right."

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

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

"Mhm, totally..."

"Oh, shut up, Jisung."

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

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

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

"Lee Felix."

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

pretty similar i think... thanks for the tag @its-stayville-forever . . .

tagging @jeonginsleftcheek @linocvp1d @sanriomilk @jisunggy if yall wanna have a go ⛓️

blog vs blogger with this picrew.. "tagged" by @wronglennon <3 tagging @woodsteingirl @jokerlennon @porciaenjoyer @lesbiansagainsttheatre & anyone who wants to

galaxy - lee felix

pairing: lee felix x reader

summary: your boyfriend comes home to your cooking.

genre: fluff, idol! au, just sweet lixie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Felix chuckles.

"Definitely."

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

lonely st. ✧ chapter v : behind closed doors

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)

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

a/n: chapter fiveeeee

series masterlist | skz masterlist

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

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

Then he'd run off.

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

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

"Sorry, Y/n."

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

"Wait- how do you know my name?"

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

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

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

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

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

"It's good," she said quietly.

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

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

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

"You try," he said.

Y/n shook her head and Han whined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A thought occurred to her suddenly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yeji 🍭: you coming over tonight?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Careful."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come on, don't fall asleep."

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

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

She smells so good...

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

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

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

"Nothing..."

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

"How's basketball?"

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

"Busy."

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

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

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

She's asleep, he thought in relief.

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

He could stay a little longer.

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin tugged at his damp hair in agitation.

Do the right thing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She knows. She knows. She knows.

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

And all of the tears.

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

omg love your new theme, it's so cuteee😭💖

thank youuu 🫶 i felt like switching it up for a bit before i take a break

how each skz member would do their nails - maknae line

pairing: ot8 maknae line x reader

summary: how skz maknae line would do their nails

genre: ...

a/n: lowkey running out of ideas... help

han ♡

playful and vibrant nails that match his energetic personality

a mix of bright colors like yellow, pink, and turquoise

fun designs featuring cartoon characters or food items

whimsical nail art, like polka dots or stripes

maybe some 3D elements like small charms or gems

bold and daring nail shapes that reflect his creative side

nail art inspired by his love for drawing and painting

short to medium length for practicality while still being expressive

felix ♡

medium-length nails with a sleek, polished look

soft, neutral colors like beige or light gray to match his calm demeanor

minimalist designs, perhaps with a single accent nail

subtle details like small hearts or stars for a personal touch

clean and well-groomed to reflect his meticulous nature

possibly some soft ombre effects for a unique twist

designs inspired by nature, like leaves or clouds

practical yet stylish to fit his aesthetic

seungmin ♡

short, neat nails with a classic, polished look

soft, muted colors like light gray or pale blue to reflect his calm demeanor

minimalist designs featuring subtle stripes or tiny dots

maybe a touch of understated nail art, like small hearts or stars

clean and well-groomed, focusing on simplicity

an occasional accent nail with a more playful design for fun

matte finishes for a sophisticated touch

practical yet stylish to fit his personality !

jeongin ♡

short, cute nails that reflect his youthful spirit

playful pastel colors like baby pink, mint, or lavender

simple designs featuring smiley faces or cute animals

maybe some glitter accents for a fun twist

easygoing and fun patterns that showcase his playful side

well-maintained but not overly complicated

a mix of matte and glossy finishes for variety

vibrant stickers or decals to add a personal touch

a/n: i wanna do skz's nails :(

hi ttokki! can you maybe update us on your current wips? i'm so very much eager for more of your writing! ily take care <3

i've been thinking about your other ask about my wips, anon TT every time i get a new request lol i go back to it in my feed

so (buckle up) :

a felix x reader fic

a chan x reader prompt list fic

6 skz 9th!member fics (crying)

a skz cafe series event

a couple of asks from my moots

so yeah !