#changbin and seungmin in particular actually

[withleeknow]

for the upcoming comeback i'd like to humbly request some of them to go on jaejoong and friends to promote the album

[chansdoll]

방찬 ─── cracks in the mirror

♡ pairing ៸៸ idol!chan x fem!reader genre ៸៸ angst, fluff ៸៸ cw ៸៸ ED behaviors mentioned , body image angst , weight loss mentions , mean girl mina , chan is sweet

♡ synopsis ៸៸ after a girl says something mean about your body at work, chan consoles you. [ part 2 ]

a/n ๑ i messed up the format please don't laugh at me

♡ masterlist

the work dynamic today was strange. you were working with your friends, han, changbin, and chan, helping out with music production and note taking. this was a normal day, or at least, it would have been, without mina present.

mina is.. to put it bluntly, the biggest pick-me-bitch you’d ever met. she was normally assigned to work with itzy on their productions, but this particular day, she needed to fill in for a staff member who couldn’t make it into work. she put on a facade around everyone else, but you saw her for what she really is, an emotional vampire, manipulative snake, and an attention whore. you realized it when she only talked to you when you were around the guys. 

you two were hired together, during a group interview process, and she was so nice to you.. until she found out you’d be the one working with stray kids. if you weren’t around the members, she’d be cold to you, never saying more than a few words to you before finding an excuse to get away from you. 

the way she acts alone would annoy any sane person, but it annoyed you times ten when you noticed the way she’d flirt with any male in her presence. especially chan, who you weren’t as close with, but you couldn’t help but gain some feelings for him while working for him, and though he almost never reciprocated the flirtation, you felt as though compared to her you stood no chance. 

and why is that? she was gorgeous. that, you couldn’t even deny. she was white, and she had blonde hair, striking blue eyes, which were framed by her long eyelashes. not to mention, she was skinny. she was the beauty standard. you had struggled with your weight your whole life. you were always the chubby kid in your class, the chubbiest out of your friends. you became accustomed to feeling inferior to basically any skinnier woman in your proximity. 

so, even though you extremely disliked mina, you couldn’t help but envy her. she was beautiful–physically flawless. imagine the disappointment you dealt with everyday knowing nobody else is aware of her wretched personality. 

the sad part was that you actually lost a significant amount of weight since then, but you still felt like the same girl you were in high school, extremely overweight and invisible. you weren’t skinny still by any means, but you were healthy, and that’s what’s most important. 

you mentally cursed to yourself as you looked at the time on your apple watch. it was only 1pm. at least you only had a good two hours until it was time to go home, since changbin needed to end early for a prior engagement. while you were typing away, mina was sitting on the leather couch next to you, about a foot away, half-way paying attention to what was actually going on. 

han was sitting in a chair about two feet away, writing in his journal, and chan and changbin were directing seungmin in the booth, lost in concentration. 

you try to focus on the task in front of you, but you can feel her eyes on you, like she’s studying you for some kind of weakness. you glance up, just in time to catch her watching you, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“hey,” she begins, her voice light and overly sweet, as if she’s sharing a secret. “can i ask you something?”

you sigh, already dreading whatever’s coming next. “what?”

mina shifts slightly on the couch, her tone now casual, like she’s making conversation. “i’ve been meaning to ask, you know… how do you deal with, like... not having to worry about, well, fitness and stuff? like, you’re so relaxed about it. i mean, i can’t imagine just… not caring about how i look all the time.” she tilts her head, her eyes narrowing just enough to show she’s enjoying the discomfort she’s causing.

you feel a pang in your chest, but you try to mask it, pretending like her words don’t bother you. mina leans back on the couch, a mockingly sympathetic expression crossing her face. “it must be so nice not to stress about it like the rest of us. you’re just so… comfortable, right?”

the condescension in her voice is unmistakable, and it’s almost impressive how she manages to turn an innocent comment into another thinly veiled jab. you can practically hear the unspoken “must be nice” ringing in the air.

you try to keep your face neutral, but her words hang in your mind, a reminder of the deep-seated insecurity she knows how to exploit so effortlessly. a part of you was pissed off; not at her high-school attempt to make you feel insecure–but the fact that it actually hurt your feelings. “mina-” you start, but you’re cut off, and she speaks up again. “i mean, more power to you. i’d feel so self conscious with all that extra weight.”

neither you or mina notice han’s eyes subtly watching mina, his attention fixed on your conversation now rather than his writing. 

your body heats up in embarrassment, and you try your best to swallow the lump in your throat. you feel your stomach tighten, but you force a smile, doing your best to mask the irritation creeping up your spine. you take a slow breath before responding, making sure your voice comes across calm, maybe even a little amused.

"well, mina," you begin, keeping your tone light, "i guess i'm just lucky. i've always been comfortable with myself, you know?" you glance at her, making sure to meet her eyes with an easy, unbothered look. "not everyone feels the need to be so... obsessed with their appearance."

you let the words hang for a second, watching her expression flicker slightly. you knew that would get under her skin.

"guess it's just one of those things you either have, or you don’t," you add, giving her a half-smile as if it’s no big deal. "but hey, i’m sure we all have our own ways of dealing with things."

you turn your attention back to your work, knowing full well that she won’t push any further—not with the way you just shot her down without even raising your voice. mina forces a smile and a quiet chuckle before adjusting on the couch, facing forward and pulling out her notepad. 

as soon as mina turns her attention off you, han turns his off both of you, scribbling in his journal once more. he knew he should have spoken up, but it wasn’t the time or place, and he needed to be professional. you felt the same. as much as you wanted to find a way to reveal mina’s true personality to everyone present, your work and the work of everyone else in the room was so much more important than how you felt about her. 

still, her words rang in your head the rest of the session, and you found yourself unable to focus. 

you must have zoned out during the rest of the session, because before you knew it, everyone was packing up to leave. as you shoved your laptop in your bag, you heard mina’s insufferable giggle from across the room. you looked over and saw her talking with chan, being flirty as always. 

witnessing this along with the emotions you had been holding back for the past two hours became too much. you felt the lump form in your throat again and the tears pricking the back of your eyes. you quickly gathered your things and walked down the hall to the furthest practice room. you sat your bag on the floor and plopped on the couch as you began to let the tears fall. you buried your face in your hands as you let out a few quiet sobs. everytime mina was around, you felt so inferior to her. she was the perfect girl, on the exterior, and she knew how to make herself seem so sweet. but she was so rude to you. for what? 

you reached over and grabbed a tissue, blowing your nose. as you sniffled, on the brink of pulling yourself together, the door to the practice room opened. in walked chan, who was equally surprised to see you sitting there. however, his expression turned from shock to concern as he saw you with tear stained cheeks. “y/n?” he turned and closed the door behind him. “what’s wrong?” he set his things down on the desk and sat next to you on the couch, putting his arm around you. this made tears well in your eyes again and you let out another cry, covering your face in embarrassment. 

“hey,” he rubbed your arm softly in an attempt to comfort you. “it’s okay,” he cooed, making both your heart flutter and ache at the same time. he reached around you and grabbed the box of tissues, holding them for you. you grabbed another and wiped your eyes as you sniffled, your breathing ragged from how intense your crying was. “i’m sorry,” you said weakly, staring down at the makeup on the tissue. “don’t apologize. what’s wrong?” he was still rubbing your arm gently as you tried to calm yourself and find the right words to say. “i can’t.. i can’t tell you,” you sniffled, fighting back another round of sobs. “why not?” 

“it's too embarrassing.” you scoffed at yourself, looking at anything in place of him. “y/n.” he started. “not if you’re this upset over it. you can talk to me, you know that.” 

“i just.. i hate my body.” you weeped, shaking your head. “i can’t stand to look at myself.” 

“what?” chan asked, pulling away from you, as if he was shocked. “you hate your body?” you nodded sheepishly. “why?” he sounded as if he couldn’t believe it. “because, well, look at me, chan!” you gestured to your body as you sniffled again. “seriously, i don’t even know why you stand to look at me.” 

“okay, stop.” chan chuckled, and you finally looked up at him. “there is nothing, and i mean nothing, wrong with your body. what makes you think that?” you sniffled again, debating on if you should tell him your reasoning or just brush it off with just “a lack of self-confidence”. you inhaled deeply before you started to explain. “when i was younger, i was always the bigger girl in my grade. i was always the butt of my classmates’ jokes, i was always the girl nobody would ask out. so, i vowed to lose the weight, no matter what it took. i worked out for hours, restricted my eating down to the bare minimum, and here we are.” you gestured to your body. “over a hundred pounds lost.” you looked down at your hands. “but, everytime i look in the mirror, i still see that overweight girl looking back at me. and everytime i eat a meal, i get terrified of turning back into her.” 

a moment of silence passed before you spoke up again. “its stupid, isn’t it?” you chuckled at yourself. “no, it’s not.” he shook his head. “it's not your fault you feel this way. people should have been kinder to you.” he said softly. “im so sorry you went through that. but.. that’s not who i see when i look at you, not at all. i see.. a creative, talented, pretty girl. your weight doesn’t cross my mind, not at all.” he shook his head as he said the last bit. “really?” you looked up at him, your brows furrowing. he nodded and smiled, his gaze still softer than ever. “really.” he hesitantly reached forward and pushed some hair off your face. you blushed and looked down, realizing you must look crazy with all your makeup running down your face. 

“thank you.” you dabbed under your eyes again. “no need to thank me,” you could hear the smile in his voice. “i’m just telling the truth.” 

you smiled weakly and nodded. “come here.” he turned to face you more and opened his arms for a hug. you smiled and hugged him tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck. he squeezed you into the hug as well, rubbing your back. after a moment of embracing each other, you pulled away more calmed down. “i must look crazy right now.” you laughed, reaching for your hand mirror. he chuckled as well and stood up, going to his bag. “i have something that can help with that,” he said, rummaging through his things. he came back over to you with his makeup wipes. “here.” he sat next to you and pulled one out, handing it to you. “thanks,” you said before wiping off all your makeup. once you were finished, you looked over at him, noticing he was still watching you with an amused smile. “did i miss a spot?” you asked. 

he shook his head. “no. i've just.. i've never seen you without makeup before. you look pretty.” you blushed at his compliment and scoffed. “you’re just saying that.” 

“im not! i swear i'm not.” he exclaimed. “you really are pretty, y/n.” his words made you break eye contact briefly. “thank you, channie.” you peeked at him. “mhm,” he hummed in response. you smiled to yourself and walked over to the trash can to throw away your tissues and the makeup wipe. you sat back down after, sighing. “you think im pretty..” you thought you were just thinking to yourself, but you realize you said it out loud, and a blush creeps onto your cheeks, making chan smirk a little. “yeah, i do.” he nodded. 

“i also think you’re.. funny, kind, and hard-working.” he complimented you. 

your heart flutters at his words, and you can’t help but feel the warmth spread across your chest. “i’m… hard-working?” you chuckle nervously, not quite used to hearing such kind words about yourself.

“of course,” chan grins, his eyes soft. “you’re always giving your best at everything you do. that’s something i admire about you.”

you bite your lip, feeling a mix of emotions. the weight of everything that had been building up throughout the day, all the insecurities, the hurt, it all feels lighter somehow. chan’s presence, his support, the way he’s genuinely here for you, it gives you a sense of calm that you haven’t felt in a long time.

you shift on the couch, your mind racing with thoughts you hadn't been brave enough to say aloud before. “it’s just hard, sometimes, you know? i’ve spent so long thinking that my worth is tied to my appearance… or what people think of me. and hearing you say that… it makes me feel like maybe i’ve been looking at things the wrong way.”

chan leans back slightly, giving you a reassuring smile. “you are so much more than just your appearance, y/n. everyone sees something different in you. but i see you for who you really are–you don’t need to worry about fitting some image of what ‘pretty’ is. you already are, inside and out.”

you’re quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. it’s hard to believe sometimes, but hearing him say it with such sincerity gives you hope.

“thanks, chan,” you say softly, your voice steadying. “for everything. for… just being here.”

he smiles, his expression tender. “anytime, y/n. i’m always here for you.”

you nod, feeling a little more at peace than you had when you first walked into this room. maybe things wouldn't change overnight, but for the first time in a while, you felt like you weren’t alone in this battle. and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

after a beat of silence, the door clicked open and you heard a familiar voice. “hey chan, can i-“ han stopped in his tracks when he saw you two sitting on the couch talking. “oh, sorry.. i thought it was only chan in here.” he said awkwardly. “oh, no, it’s okay. i need to get going anyway. i have some work to catch up on.” you reached down to grab your bag. 

“wait,” chan stood up as you did. you looked up at him, but he glanced over at han before looking back down at you. “are you gonna be okay taking the subway?” he asked you. you laughed and nodded. “i’ll be fine, chan. i’ll text you when i get home.” you gave him a small smile before walking past him, where han was holding the door open for you. “bye han!” you waved before walking down the hallway. 

“is she okay?” han asked chris, closing the door behind him. chris sighed and sat back down on the couch, putting the tissue paper back in the bag where his present was kept. “she’s just going through some stuff.” chris looked up at him. “what did you need?” 

“that's.. kind of why i was coming to talk to you. i heard mina talking to her in the studio today. she was.. saying things about her body.” han said nervously, holding onto the back of one of the desk chairs. “what?” chan asked, a hint of frustration coming out in his tone. “what did she say?” his nostrils flared as he looked up at han. “she, uh.. she was just talking about how y/n was so brave for being confident with ‘extra weight’.” he said uncomfortably. repeating something as rude as that felt unnatural to him. especially since you had done nothing for that unwarranted criticism. 

chan sighed and shook his head. he was pissed he had missed that happening. he would have definitely nipped it in the bud if he heard it. “i’ll talk to mina tomorrow.” he managed to remain as calm as he could. “thanks for telling me, han.” 

©chansdoll do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[daengtokki]

hey its me again who checks on ur account and notices that mother Tokki wanna go back to writing smut? lol um AM I EVEN READY FOR A SUBBY SEUNGMIN COMEBACK? SUBBY SEUNGMIN X NOONA CHANGED LIVES 🔥🔥🔥

Please forgive my desperate ass

co-worker!Kim Seungmin/noona!reader

WC: 4.1k RATING: fluff/smut contains: soft needy seungmin, sub!seungmin/dom!seungmin, lots of praise, nicknames (pup/puppy), teasing, unprotected sex COMMENT: I've been sitting on most of this story for a very long time, but I finally decided to find a nice ending to this part (though not the entire thing). Part two was posted over a year ago. I’m sorry it took so long ��

part one part two MASTERLIST

The muffled sounds coming from the break room carry all the way to where you stand, right outside the bathroom door. You recognize Seungmin’s voice, of course, and Changbin’s, but it’s a little more high pitched than usual—his laugh is probably reaching the front of the store. A few more people are in there, too...likely the entirety of Changbin’s jerk friend group. You can’t make out what they’re talking about, though.

You jump when your senior manager clicks the bathroom door open.

“God, they can be obnoxious,” she says, and rolls her eyes as she walks by. But then she stops and turns on her heel. “How have you been doing? Getting along with everyone?”

It’s the first time since you’ve started that anyone cared to ask. Aside from Seungmin. “Yes, everything is fine. Everyone has been helpful when I needed them.”

“Good. I…well, we probably shouldn’t talk here, but, I did notice you’ve been spending a lot of time around one employee in particular.”

Your heart races. Of course, it’s obvious. This was bound to happen. You’ve been careless for the most part, and it’s likely someone saw you grab his ass earlier. Now you get to start looking for a new job. “I am?” Feigning stupidity might work.

“I don’t like spreading rumors, even if maybe they're not rumors, but he seems to have a bit of a reputation around here. I don’t want anyone to think something is happening between manager and employee, because one of you would suffer. Maybe both of you.”

Well, at least she gets right to the point.

“Sorry, but are we both talking about Min…uh, Seungmin? Kim Seungmin?”

“Yes. The quiet, innocent looking one.”

You smile without realizing it, thinking about his sweet, handsome face, but quickly correct yourself when she gives you a look.

“He’s apparently gone after his female coworkers…customers. Don’t misunderstand, he is great at his job and he’s reliable as hell, but he doesn’t seem to know how to stop when it comes to flirting and chasing. He’s a…well…” her head moves like a metronome as she thinks.

“Slut?”

A nod and a smile, then she’s gone, and you’re left thinking of poor Seungmin and the reputation he accidentally made for himself. All because of his stupid friends. At least that’s what you hope. There’s always the possibility that Seungmin did lie about his experience, and his reputation is actually real, but you don’t think so. You took him home with every intention of sleeping with him, and he knows that, slut or not. There was no reason for him to make up a story this morning.

The breakroom door opens and clicks shut, and a moment later, Seungmin is coming around the corner. Head down, hair in his eyes…he doesn’t even see you until you throw a soft pup at him.

He stops immediately and smiles at you.

“Everything okay? You look distracted.”

“I’m okay, just…tired I guess.”

“It’s alright if you cancel on me, I’ll understand.

Seungmin shakes his head, “I’ll meet you across the street in...” he looks at his phone, “one hour.”

･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

You were extra careful and extra paranoid for that last hour, eyes constantly moving between where Seungmin was in relation to the other manager. He was good, though, and he kept his distance. He has a big smile and a coffee waiting you when you finally make it to him.

“Do we know anybody in here right now?”

“What’s wrong?” Seungmin looks around, “no, I don’t recognize anyone from work.”

You bend down and place a kiss on his lips. It’s much too romantic, which you didn’t intend, but you did need to kiss him as soon as you walked through the door. Seungmin kisses back, so softly and sweetly that it doesn’t belong out in public, around prying eyes. Your head swims and your body aches with need, but you somehow pull away.

“I think we’re getting dirty looks,” Seungmin blushes and keeps his eyes on yours.

“We should take it somewhere else.”

･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Seungmin is excited and chatty on the ride to his apartment, and luckily he still isn’t too concerned with the reputation he mistakenly made for himself, “if it doesn’t get me fired, it’s okay. And if it does, that just means we can, uhm…” he didn’t finish that thought, but you could figure it out on your own. You think.

He’s quiet on the ride back, but when you’re almost home, he reaches out and sets his hand over yours. It’s a romantic gesture to match the kiss from earlier, and you find yourself enjoying it more than you’d like. As sweet as Seungmin is, and as enamored he obviously is with you, jumping in feet first the way you keep imagining is still difficult.

“Seungmin?”

The jump of his hand makes your stomach drop, because you think he’s pulling away. But he doesn’t. And then he does, just a little. “Yeah?”

“Minnie…uh, uhm…” You had the words, and now they’re slowly falling apart in your head. You have a chance to look at him—the smile on his face is hesitant, and when he bites down on his lip, it drops completely. “Nothing, it’s nothing.” You can’t stand the unsure look on his face, so you reach for his hand again and squeeze, and you hope his smile comes back when you have to turn away. “What are you hungry for?”

"I'm not picky."

You can’t tell from his voice. “Whatever you’d like. What’s your favorite?”

“Kimchi stew. Is that too boring?”

“Boring? No, not at all. We’ll have that, and something sweet if you’d like.”

He laughs, and it’s music to your ears. “Yes, sweet is always good.

･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Seungmin sits on the far side of the couch with a shy smile on his face—patient and quiet, shoulders slumped a little. He looks small sitting there, but he’s not, and he looks shy tonight, but you don’t think that’s what it is. Seungmin is hiding a lot behind his soft exterior. You wonder if his friends bothered him today, or if Changbin continued teasing about the marks he left n your neck. The senior manager not noticing them (or just not mentioning it) is surprising. But who knows...maybe that influenced her little meeting with you today.

It was you that got things started last night, and you’re thinking that might be the case again tonight, which is fine—you like it like that, that’s how you usually do things. But he also took control a few times, and you liked that as well. Part of you wants him to initiate and take over again, but the other part, the one that’s hungry for him and craving dominance, is going to win soon.

“Seungmin?”

“Hm?” He perks up and lets his smile spread across his face, “yeah?”

Instead of starting anything, you get up and walk toward the bedroom. How you forgot this, you’re not sure, but a vision of the little black box sitting on the edge of your bed popped up just in time. The sound of slow footsteps follows behind you, luckily. You don’t have to call him in, and you don’t have to start things on the couch.

“Wow…this is nice,” he leans against the door jamb and watches, looks around your not-so-spacious bedroom. “Big bed, looks very, very comfortable.”

“Come sit”

Not only does he listen to you, but he goes for it and touches your hip. Both hands grab softy and pull until his lips graze against your shirt, and you get butterflies—of course you get butterflies. Seungmin has you on your knees and he doesn't even realize it. You run a hand down the back of his head and to his neck, squeeze, get a content groan out of him.

“I hope you like it”

You really do hope he likes it, because you paid extra to have it made just the way you envisioned it: deep red leather, gold chain looped across the middle. Hanging off the chain is a small, heart shaped tag. You pull it out and Seungmin squeezes tighter when he sees it, and he reaches for it.

“Oh…can I?”

His fingers run across the soft leather, pull a little on the chain to see how it tightens. Then he goes for the buckle.

“I’ll do that,” you tell him as you undo it and examine his pretty neck, then wrap it around him. His skin is warm—he was cold before, so you turned the heat up; probably too much, but he hasn’t complained. “Is it too warm in here, Minnie?”

“No, it’s nice.” Seungmin reaches back and stops you from slipping it under the buckle. “I think we…” he squeezes, “we should use this next time.”

“Next time?”

Seungmin stands and gently pulls it away, sets it back in its box, then returns to you with a look so heavy, you finally get it. You weren’t expecting this, even though you wanted it, so you wait for his next move. And his next move is a kiss to rival the sweet, slow coffee shop kiss, but his hands close around your neck and his fingers move gently against the nape of your neck. You think he might squeeze a little harder, but he doesn’t—Minnie isn’t there yet, and you know that.

“You don’t wanna be my pup tonight?”

Hands slide down your back, and Seungmin pulls you tight against him. He’s hard, and his cock pushes gently against your stomach.

“I’m always your pup, I hope”

“You are…”

You’re pulled down with him as he sits again, straddling his slender thighs, barely covered by the shorts he changed into. He leans back and watches you look, touch, tug at his shirt until your hands can slide underneath and push it up. And he just sits there and takes it. When you lean in and kiss across his chest, he sighs and falls onto his back, but bucks his hips up to get your attention; to make sure you know where he wants you.

Maybe he will submit, put the collar on, do what you tell him.

“Hey,” Seungmin grabs the back of your neck and holds you steady.

“Hey…” you watch him. He’s thinking—figuring out exactly what he wants, and you’re patient. “I’m all yours.”

Maybe some more encouragement will get him going. You slide your hand down and tuck your fingers beneath his waistband, just short of reaching him. He thrusts up just enough to get to you, and he’s so relieved to feel your touch, he laughs as he moans.

“Let me take care of you, Minnie.” You give in and stroke him as his hips continue to move, “please, pup.”

“No, no…” His hands squeeze your hips. He easily pulls you off of him and flat onto your back. “It’s my turn. Get on your stomach.”

The pounding in your chest is partly the excitement of the moment, but mostly not being prepared for the sharp, brusque sound in his voice. You listen and roll onto your stomach. He pulls down, freeing you of your underwear, and his fingers knead hard into your ass. It’s impossible not to push back against him and get onto your knees, and Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind. He stops for a moment, and you think he might speak. He almost does. Instead, a soft laugh comes out as he strips, positions himself, and you jump when he runs a slow finger from the small of your back to your cunt.

Now you laugh at yourself, and Seungmin giggles again.

“Is that a no touch zone?”

“You can touch wherever you want.”

The sound and feel of him pushing two fingers so smoothly into you makes you whimper, and you find yourself wanting to beg, or encourage…you’re unsure. But he pulls out quickly and slides his wet fingers to your clit. “Minnie…ah,” you whine and spread yourself open even more, “please.”

“You want it?”

His voice is somehow deeper, quieter. So far so good. But maybe he has…no, you shake the thought away. “I want you…”

No response, just his hands spreading you open and coming down to kiss and bite the skin of your hip, then your thigh. He keeps going until his tongue can slide over your cunt, and he licks up the mess his fingers made.

The begging is in your head, please, please… and then it comes out muffled by the sheets, stuffed in your mouth as he wraps his hand around the back of your neck. All of his weight is pushing you down. His cock slides over you and it drives you crazy.

“Seungmin, please”

“Please…please,” he mutters, but he doesn’t tease. He guides himself over your entrance and pushes gently, slides in slowly…out, in, and you know it makes him a little weak in the knees.

But his pace quickens and his thrusts push you down and into the bed even more, forcing you to grip the sheets for some leverage. You look back and catch his gaze—his face is soft and his smile grows as you look at him. Still a puppy.

“I like this,” he sighs and holds your hips tight as he fucks you, but he slows down to reserve himself, to keep going as long as possible. “I…fuck.”

The stutter of his movements, the force of his thrusts when he gets back into the moment, it hits just right. His size stretches you just right, and it feels too good in this position. You lift yourself and push back into his hips, and Seungmin lets you do it a few times before abruptly pulling himself out and leaving you there. “Minnie…no, no.”

It’s quiet, and you can’t see him in the nearly dark room. You don’t get up, though, because you need him to come back, and if he wants to do well for you, he won’t.

“Minnie?”

The bed shifts. He’s there, just watching and waiting.

“Please pup, I’ll do anything you want…please fuck me”

“Yeah?”

The sweetness in his voice is back, but he still doesn’t return. You stick your ass up even higher, turn your head to the opposite side to search, and there he is. Seungmin is watching you, sitting back, completely relaxed as he strokes himself.

“Anything”

“Turn onto your back”

It feels good to stretch out like this, but straightening your back and falling limp onto the bed is even better. “Yes sir.” But he still just stares at you.

“Sir?”

“Mmm…sir…pup”

“Are you teasing me? He tilts his head to one side and crawls closer. “Open up.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” One leg falls open, and then the other.

“I think you are teasing,” his mouth closes around your clit and licks hard, sucks, waits for you to moan, and then he pulls back. “I don’t like being teased.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not teasing…promise.”

But you close your legs, and Seungmin gives you puppy eyes. You can’t help yourself—not being in control of him is harder than you thought it would be. Your legs slowly fall back open. “Promise, Minnie. Please come back.”

He crawls back to you; on top of you, kissing his way up, pulling at your bra and somehow, successfully undoing it. Seungmin kisses softly—long, messy, and wet, tongue pushing in and fighting yours. He loves kissing, and he’s good at it.

“I’m sorry pup, I need you”

“I could just leave you like this, wanting more”

“I’ll be good for you”

“Promise again.” The lightness in his voice contradicts the grip on your thighs as he pulls them apart.

“Promise…I promise”

Your pleading works, and he lifts your hips to his. “That’s better,” he coos, and watches himself slide in so slowly, “much better,” he groans as he pulls out, and his eyes move to yours.

A smile twitches at the corner of his lips, and he can’t help but move faster, and faster. The bed moves with every hard thrust into you, and looking at him like this is so much better. Seeing his face, so full of pleasure, so blissful and so dazed. “Minnie…” you say it desperately between your shallow panting, “Minnie you feel so…aah…”

The smile wins, and it grows with each roll into your hips. “You gonna come for me?” He moves his thumb up and down, touching everywhere he can, and he pulls your hips up until you can wrap your legs around him.

“Spit on me”

“Hmm?” His head tilts innocently to one side again, but he hears you, because he does it, and he rubs it into your clit in fast, soft circles. It’s perfect—his touch, his cock stretching you to your limit. You let it work through you, and you make sure Seungmin knows.

“That’s good…one down.” He slows himself, but keeps going until he’s sure you’ve gotten through it, and when you finally relax and barely catch your breath, his starts again.

Slow and deep, then steadily faster. He’s gripping you and holding so tight and firm, but you’re just a toy for him…finally—you imagined him fucking you like this, daydreamed about it as you walked the aisles at work. His eyes turn glassy and stay fixed on his cock being swallowed over and over, and he holds it together so much longer than you expect. His breathing becomes shallow, and soft whimpers sneak out with each exhale.

“Harder harder, god…I’m gonna come”

“Mm…again?” Seungmin smiles.

You nod and grab his hand, but you don’t have to tell him what to do. As soon as his thumb touches your clit, another orgasm rips through you. His long, drawn out moan turns into a giddy laugh as he follows behind and fills you up.

Thighs tremble, yours and his, as he pulls himself out.

“Fuck”

“Yeah,” he sighs and falls down next to you, laughs again, and pushes his face into your pillow.

It’s quiet for a moment, until the wind picks up outside and pushes against the window. The curtains move a little, and the dim light outside shifts across the bed. Seungmin looks pretty all spread out across the blankets, out of breath and damp with sweat. You roll over until you can run a hand down his back, and gently squeeze his ass.

“You worn out already?”

“Oh, no no. I just need,” he turns his head to find you, “ten minutes.”

“How about five?”

“Five?” He turns a little more and watches you crawl to the edge of the bed and reach, “five minutes,” flips onto his back and closes his eyes, but he feels you come back, and then he feels your hands sliding up his leg, over his knee, his thigh.

Your lips press against his hip, leaving loud, wet kisses all the way up until you reach his throat. “Four.”

Seungmin groans, his eyes open slowly as your thighs press into his sides, and your hands wrap around his neck. He feels the soft, warm leather press against his skin as you buckle it.

“How does that feel?”

He moves his head side to side and swallows. “No bell?”

“You get a bell if you’re a good pup.”

“So I do have a bell?” Proud of himself, and you haven’t even started. He beams up at you and cautiously runs a finger across the chain on his throat. “Feels nice.”

“Good boy. You can have your ten minutes.”

Seungmin meant it when he said he was tired. He slowly dozes off, but the smile on his face sticks. He looks cute when he’s sleeping, arms crossed over his stomach, fingers twitching. The collar looks good against his warm skin, and keeping your hands off of him is more difficult with each passing minute. Ten minutes go by, and then eleven, but instead of waking him, you lie down and wait.

Fifteen minutes, and then twenty…eventually, his eyes flutter open on their own, and he looks at you. “Did I fall asleep? I’m sorry.”

“You did, sleepyhead. How do you feel?”

His fingers close around his chain again, and he pulls until it’s snug around his throat. “Good.” Seungmin keeps his hands off when you straddle him, but he bucks his hips up on purpose. The sight of his cum slowly dripping from you makes his cock twitch, and he whines when he remembers he can’t take over this time.

It’s your turn. You push down and slide yourself onto is new erection. Twenty minutes of rest was plenty for him—his tip is already leaking pre-cum for you, and all you can think about is him filling you up again. He obeys when you tug at his collar; props himself up on his elbows, and licks his lips. He slips in so easily, and makes the sweetest sound when you grind your hips into his. “Good boy, give me a little bit…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”

Seungmin groans when the collar tightens. His mouth hangs open, and his tongue pokes out as he grinds back, just enough. Your body starts to shake from the pleasure he’s giving you. “So…fuck,” your breath gets caught in your throat, and you let it out in a whimper. “My sweet puppy, you feel so…”

He bites his lip and smirks. Seungmin wants more of your praise. He likes it like this—you on top, his cum leaking as his cock stretches you more and more; the sound of how slick and tight you are around him. Your grip is driving him crazy, but he can last as long as you’re controlling the pace.

“How do you feel, pup?”

“So good…please don’t stop”

“Mmm, we could stay like this all night, but I want to drain you, over and over.” His eyes roll back when you grip his shoulders and pick up your pace. Seungmin’s hips relax. He doesn’t want to come yet no matter how much you want him to, and a tighter pull on his leash doesn’t make him obey. “Fuck me.”

His face turns soft and the puppy eyes come out. “Please.”

“I’m gonna wear you out. Up.” This time, the tug on his collar works. He props himself up on his palms for more leverage, and he whines when he thrusts into you. “Good…good boy.”

“I’m a good boy.”

“You’re mine.”

“I am…”

Another tug, and your lips graze his. This might send him over the edge. Seungmin can’t help but latch onto your mouth and kiss, messy and loud. “What do good boys do for me?”

His timing is perfect. The shake and stutter of his body, and the twitch of his cock as he empties into you puts him on his back again. Muscles in his stomach tighten and relax as he catches his breath, and eventually, he finds the strength to latch onto your thighs and squeeze. “I’m hungry.”

･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

After dinner, Seungmin is sleepy all over again. He doesn’t realize when he opens his eyes to yours that it’s after a long nap, because as soon as his body hit the bed, he was powerless against it. And you let him sleep.

“Hey,” he looks around the dark room, feels for you next to him, and he knows the soft mound he squeezes is you when you squeal. “Sorry, how long was I asleep?”

“About an hour.”

“Was that your ass?”

“Yeah, do it again.”

It tickles, and he likes the laugh he gets from you, so Seungmin crawls closer and does it a third time before moving upward and squeezing your hips, and waist.

You flip onto your back, and you can just make him out in the darkness as he hovers over you. “Are you still tired?”

He shrugs.

“I’ll take that as a yes…c’mere.”

Seungmin doesn’t hesitate. He comes down, buries his face in your neck, and slowly kisses his way up to your mouth. Lazy and wet, across your cheek and back down to your shoulder, his teeth graze over your ribs, and that tickles, too. He laughs when you do. “What if we just slept in all morning and missed work?”

“Both of us call off? Might seem suspicious…but—“

He pops up and stares down at you, “but?”

“One of the other managers noticed how often we’re together.”

“I bet I know which one.”

“Tall, ponytail…glasses that don’t suit her?”

Seungmin nods and mhm’s into another kiss. “I turned her down a few months ago, told her it wouldn’t look good if anyone found out. But I just wasn’t interested.”

“What makes me so special?”

“Is it bad that I…don’t know the answer to that?” The relief on his face cuts through the dark when you shake your head. Seungmin’s body relaxes even more. “You are, though. Special.”

“I’ll call off now, you call off in the morning. Maybe it won’t be as suspicious.”

[godslino]

GUTTER BALL | changbin first date series. one night stand to lovers.

pairing: changbin x fem!reader word count: 5.2k genre: non idol au, fluff warnings: implied sexual content, swearing, mentions of drinking summary: a one night stand with changbin ends in pancakes and the promise of a date. the rest is history.

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

a/n: finally! the changbin chapter! i just want to take a second to say THANK YOU for all the support you guys have given this series so far. reading everyone's comments is genuinely the highlight of my day and i'm so happy you're all enjoying it. please remember that both my taglist and my requests are open, so don't be shy. once again, any and all feedback is appreciated. you guys are awesome, happy reading <3

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that this is not your room.

Blackout curtains, a lamp on the bedside table painting the walls in a warm glow, navy blue sheets that are pulled over your bare chest and—oh.

Oh.

“Fuck,” you mutter, throwing your arm over your eyes, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Everything comes flooding back in an instant: the bar, dark curly hair, one too many drinks, a voice low in your ear, stumbling through his apartment door, the most ripped arms you’ve ever seen, and that tongue—

The sound of a door unlocking shakes you from your thoughts, followed by shoes being kicked off as you scramble to sit up and hug the sheet tighter around your body.

What was his name—Changbin? Changbin. That sounds right. At least from the memories you have where it was coming out in strangled moans from your throat. Which is dry, by the way, undoubtedly from the amount of alcohol and the…strain it was put through.

You don’t really have time to unpack that particular part of last night’s events when there’s a knock at the door—funny, because this is his room.

Flattening your back against the headboard, you clear your throat as best you can, “Come in.”

When it opens, Changbin’s head pops through, tufts of his hair sticking out from under a baseball cap. “Hey,” he says softly before stepping all the way in. He takes one look at you, your hands holding the bedsheet in a death grip, and wordlessly walks over to his dresser.

“I bought food,” he says with his back turned, pulling out a sweatshirt. He pulls out a few sweatpants too, shuffles through them until he finds some with a drawstring, and then turns back around to face you with the clothes held in his hand.

He looks…apologetic? Nervous? Really, really cute? That’s not a question, actually. He is cute.

You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’re seeing him in better lighting for the first time, or maybe because you’re sober, or maybe because the only other image you have of him is when he’s hovering over your body and making you see stars, but you can’t help the little fluttering feeling that starts in your chest when he gives you a small smile.

“Your dress is kind of…I, uh…it’s ripped.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at the same time you feel heat rush to your cheeks. “Oh,” is all you can say as you desperately try to remember that part of the night. Hands are all you see, big and strong, and you silently let your gaze fall to them as he moves forward to place the clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, “You can have these. They should fit you, and I don’t mind losing them. Consider it my reimbursement for ruining your dress.”

You lean forward slowly, still holding the blanket to your chest, and Changbin has to stop himself from staring at the exposed skin of your shoulder when your hair falls forward in the process. “These are—” your eyes go wide, “Balenciaga?!”

He blinks like you didn’t just name drop a brand that sells singular articles of clothing for double your paycheck. “Yeah?”

“I can’t take this.”

“Why not?”

“This costs more than me,” you say incredulously.

He moves to argue, but then a slow grin starts to spread across his face. He tones it down, minimizes it to a single upturn of the left side of his mouth. “I mean, you don’t have to wear anything. I don’t mind either way.” Changbin smirks, and you narrow your eyes.

“However,” he continues, “I would really, really like to see you in my clothes.”

🎳

“He gave you a what hoodie?” Felix’s voice is distant on the other end of the line. The clicking of his keyboard stops, there’s a rustle, and then suddenly his mouth is a lot closer to the speaker than it’d previously been.

Changbin’s en suite is huge, just like his bedroom. Once he slipped out to give you privacy, claiming he was going to set up the food, you’d allowed yourself to fully take in your surroundings. A california king sized bed, a walk in closet, an attached bathroom with a balcony.

You sigh, leaning back against the marble sink. Changbin’s sweats sit low on your hips, his hoodie all but swallowing your figure into the material.

“That’s not the point, Felix. Were you even listening to me? An entire five minute monologue about how I’m in his house and all you care about is the Balenciaga?”

“Does he have any, like, really hot friends?”

“Felix.”

“Wait. Is he really hot?”

“Felix!” you bring a hand to your forehead, using your thumb and middle finger to rub at the spots just above your eyebrows. “You’re not helping here.”

“Okay,” Felix says, his voice low, “It’s just that I’m having an issue seeing what the problem is.” You pinch the bridge of your nose to fight the oncoming headache as Felix rambles on.

“This guy brought you back to his place, rocked your world, and then what? Cuddled you? Bought you breakfast? Gave you his clothes that are worth more than my car and is now waiting for you to come out of his bathroom and enjoy a nice meal? And that’s bad because…?”

“You know what? I’m hanging up.”

“The hell you are! I left my fucking fortnite match for this! You’d better go out there and—” You slam your phone down on the bathroom counter, the sound echoing. If Felix wasn’t going to validate your very unnecessary nerves, then so be it.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, unfamiliar with the person looking back. It’s a little jarring, the sight of you in someone else’s clothes. A man’s clothes, no less.

It’s been a long time since you’ve had anything close to this sort of…intimacy. Hookups are normal for you, sure. But the mornings after are usually never more than a hurried goodbye as you gather your things and haul ass out the door. Most of the time you don’t even stay, sobered up enough after your post-coital state to slip out into the night and call an uber.

Your memory had come back in full as you were slipping Changbin’s clothes on once he left the room. The sex was great—amazing even. But afterwards, when he turned over and slipped an arm around your waist and hooked his chin on your shoulder was what really scared you.

Okay, maybe scared is an exaggeration. You aren’t scared, it’s just been a while. So what if you don’t crave male validation? Sex is the fun part anyways. Dating doesn’t necessarily go well for you, and feelings are definitely off the table when it comes to hookups. Because that’s all it is: a hookup. Changbin is no different.

You give yourself a total of thirty more seconds before braving a step out into the hallway, sheepishly peeking around the corner.

The apartment is unsurprisingly huge as well: a high ceiling, intricate marble flooring, a chandelier hung in the center of the living room that reflects the sunlight coming in from the floor-to-wall windows on the opposite side.

“Woah,” you say to no one in particular, walking into the dining room area, “This place is intense.”

Changbin looks up from his phone. His hat is off now, a mop of curls sit messily on his head, thick-rimmed glasses are situated at the tip of his nose, his arms—straining against the fabric of his black t-shirt—rest heavily on the table. You watch as he lets his eyes travel the length of you, painfully slow, something unreadable behind them.

“Food’s ready,” is all he says with a smile.

You sit down across from him, eyes wide. It’s like he bought out the entirety of an IHOP while you were asleep. There’s pancakes and waffles, hash browns and toast, an assortment of fruit, two different omelets, two cups of coffee, and at least five different types of syrup options.

“Are we…” you trail off, meeting his expectant gaze, “…expecting other people?”

Changbin nervously scratches his chin. “No, uh, I just—I didn’t know what you liked. And you were sleeping, so…yeah. I tried to cover all the bases.”

When you don’t respond, your eyes transfixed on him, he clears his throat. “Please eat,” he says, extending a hand to gesture at the food, “Let me know if there’s anything else you want.”

“Thank you,” you say, grabbing a fork. Changbin waits until he’s certain you don’t immediately hate it and then starts to eat, too.

It’s quiet, comfortable, sounds of cutlery clinking against plates are the only thing filling the silence as the two of you try to soothe your hangovers with full stomachs. You steal glances at him throughout, watch the way his lips pout when he chews, and then shyly look back down at your plate when he catches you staring. It’s kind of sweet, the idea that he did all this despite only having met you twelve hours ago.

It should be more awkward, too. You’re going to have to talk at some point. There’s an elephant in the room that’s shaped a lot like post-nut clarity mixed with morning-after regret and neither of you are making a move to address it.

“So um, about last night…” Changbin starts a few minutes later. He looks nervous, like he doesn’t know how to vocalize what he plans on saying next.

You nod, putting your fork down. This was to be expected. “I’ll be out as soon as I’m done eating, don’t worry.” Changbin’s head snaps in your direction. “It was really nice of you to get food and stuff, so thank you. I can put my dress back on too so that way I don’t have to take—”

“What?” Changbin furrows his eyebrows, “No. Wait. I’m not kicking you out, Jesus.”

You blink. “You’re not?”

“Of course not.” He stills. “Is that how these things usually go for you?”

Well that isn’t exactly a question you planned on answering. What are you supposed to say? Yeah haha I actually just kind of leave before they have a chance to come back from the bathroom?

“I mean, is that not how it goes for you?”

The blush that spreads across Changbin’s cheeks is hard to ignore. “I don’t—uh…I don’t do this.”

“You don’t buy girls breakfast after you sleep with them?”

“No I don’t—I don’t bring girls home.” He admits.

Oh.

“So I’m…?” The first, you want to ask.

“Yeah.”

Oh.

You’ve never been in this situation before. Apparently that’s Changbin’s specialty: helping you experience things that you normally wouldn’t.

“Listen,” he starts again, licking his lips. His leg is bouncing nervously, visible through the glass table. “I didn’t intend to sleep with you last night. Not because I didn’t want to! Fuck, I—I wanted to. And it was…God, it was amazing. But I feel kind of bad, because everything is out of order and I don’t want it to seem like I’m only trying to ask you now just because I want to get in your pants again or something but like—”

“Changbin,” you cut him off, “Breathe. You don’t—whatever it is you want to say, you can say it.”

He visibly relaxes as soon as his name comes out of your mouth.

“Can I take you on a date?”

There’s a long silence that follows, one that makes you question whether or not he actually said what you think he did. It feels a little surreal, not just the situation but Changbin himself. You went into this blind, completely void of any expectations, but somehow came out of it with—

“A…date?” you ask hesitantly.

“A date.” He repeats, more confident this time. “A real one. Not just a hookup. I mean, I thought you were beautiful—still do! That’s why I approached you at first. I wasn’t expecting to come back here but we were both drinking and then one thing lead to another and your face was so close and I—”

“Okay.” You say, stabbing at a piece of pancake with your fork.

“Okay?” Changbin asks, blinking at you like he didn’t hear correctly.

“I mean,” you swallow your food, “Typically I’d say you’re just trying to sleep with me, because what guy does all of this for a girl he knows literally nothing about?” Changbin nods in understanding. “But we’re kind of past that, aren’t we? So clearly you don’t have any other motives.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “No. Nope. Definitely don’t.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, to which he visibly pales. “Wait, not like that. I just mean that I’m motivated by the fact that you’re beautiful and I want to get to know you not…anything else.”

When you laugh it’s soft, no more than a few heavy exhales out of your nose. Changbin wishes he could hear it more, could get you to open up to him. “I’m not too sure there’s much you’d want to know.” You admit.

“Well that’s for me to decide, isn’t it?”

His tone is different now, much more confident. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s more at ease with the conversation, or maybe it’s because he wants to prove you wrong. Either way, it makes anticipation stir deep in your gut. Changbin is different, a good different.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”

“So it’s a date?” He picks up a piece of watermelon with his fork, holds it out to you in some sort of a toast.

“Depends,” you poke another piece of your pancakes and let it hover in front of your face, “Are you gonna buy more of these?”

“I could make that happen.” He smiles, and for the first time you let yourself get lost in it.

“Then yeah,” you push your hand forward, clinking the sides of your forks together, “It’s a date.”

🎳

changbin [8:30am]

for you 🥞

you [8:31am]

are you going to do this every day?

changbin [8:31am]

absolutely

what kind of a man would that make me if i didn’t deliver your pancakes in the morning?

you [8:34am]

a normal one

changbin [8:34am]

sounds boring

do you want syrup with those?

🎳

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Felix says, leaning against the doorframe. He watches as you adjust your hair in the mirror, a wary look on his face from where you can see his reflection over your shoulder.

It’s been two weeks since you and Changbin hooked up. You’ve texted nonstop since then, most of it just casual conversation. It’s kind of nice; you get to hear about his day, what songs he’s currently listening to, and find out that he’s one hundred percent committed to the pancake bit. You let him know more about yourself too: your job, your annoying coworkers, which one of your comfort shows you’re rewatching for the fourth time. Changbin makes it a point to text you every morning and every night. You open your eyes to a pancake delivery and then close them after answering the question of: What type of pancakes do you want tomorrow?

Today, it was blueberry. Because today is the day you’re finally going on your date—and because Changbin’s sheets (that you haven’t stopped thinking about for some reason) are blue.

“What’s there to not believe, Lix?” you ask, turning to face him.

“I’m just worried.” He says, walking forward to place both hands on your shoulders. His face is serious, eyebrows pulled together slightly in that concerned look you know too well. Felix has seen firsthand what your last relationship did to you, spent nights with you tucked under his arm as you cried it out and he shoveled ice cream into your mouth. So yeah, he has the room to be worried.

“What if you mess up and I lose my chance to be his friend so he can give me a Balenciaga hoodie?”

Record scratch. Freeze frame. Whatever the hell happens in the tv shows. You shove his arms away with a scoff, rolling your eyes when he stumbles to the side as he laughs.

“You are so annoying.”

“And you better not ruin my chances of getting with one of his producer friends!” Felix calls out as you walk towards the living room. “I saw a cute one on his instagram. Don’t know his name—there was no tag, but oh my God, I love his nose.”

“You went through his socials?” you ask in disbelief, staring at him as he bends down to rummage through the fridge.

“Uh, yeah? Had to make sure he wasn’t some sort of weirdo that could possibly turn out to be a serial killer. Please, I’m not that bad of a best friend.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.” You smile, laughing at the pout he shoots your way.

Changbin’s got his hands in his pockets when you swing the door open. His hair is even fluffier than you remember, a white t-shirt hugging his chest perfectly beneath his jacket and—the glasses. The damn glasses. Your stomach starts churning at the sight, the smallest of cracks in your reserve starting to form.

“You’re early,” you say, giving him a questioning look.

Changbin shrugs. “I was excited.”

“Sweet talking to me isn't gonna work, you know?”

“I don’t have a reason to sweet talk, I’m just being honest.” Changbin’s teeth are white when he flashes them, bright and sincere. He makes talking so easy, like he’s practiced it a thousand times. You like that.

“Well,” you clear your throat, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Changbin grins, grabbing your hand and leading you down towards his car.

🎳

Changbin, as you come to find out, is full of surprises.

First, he’s ridiculously good at driving. One hand on the wheel, the other mindlessly playing with yours where his hand rests on top of your thigh. The way he maneuvers the car is, well, it’s hot. It’s also really hard to focus your attention anywhere but his hands, especially when you know what they can do.

Second, he’s really, really silly. Most of the usual small talk made on a first date was done over text since it took so long to find a day that both of you were free, but that just made it so falling into step beside one another was that much easier.

Changbin isn’t afraid to sing along with whatever song is on the radio. In fact, he’s actually really good at singing. Well, when he’s not forcing the dramatics and belting at the top of his lungs while he pretends to romantically serenade you in the passenger’s seat. You can’t help but giggle, swatting his hand away when he makes exaggerated gestures in your direction during certain high notes.

Third, he makes your heart flutter. And not just the usual Oh you’re cute kind. No. Changbin makes your heart feel like it’s going to melt into the floor, all of your senses hyper aware of every part of him, wanting and craving more even when he’s right next to you.

He makes you laugh at unexpected times, encourages you to keep speaking if you ramble on for too long about something completely random, and his smile—oh man. Maybe Felix was right to be worried. Not about you messing up, but about you being absolutely head over heels for this guy.

By the time Changbin pulls into an empty parking spot, the two of you have settled into a natural back and forth that has your head reeling with how much fun it is.

“A bowling alley?” you ask, turning to him. Changbin turns the car off, stares at you in expectation. “You spent, like, five minutes telling me that you were taking me to the one place you feel most at home and it’s a bowling alley?”

“Woah, hold on. Are you mocking me?” Changbin smiles again, and suddenly nothing else matters.

“No I’m just—I feel bad.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Bad? Why?”

“I’m gonna, like, kick your ass at this. You know that right?” You say, chuckling.

Changbin stares at you for a moment, and then he’s laughing. A high pitched, steady trill of laughter that sends you into your own fit of giggles just from the residual joy that’s oozing out of him.

Once he’s composed himself enough, he points a finger in your direction, “Oh you are so on.”

The alley is pretty empty, the only other bowlers being at a far lane at the end of the building. Changbin takes the liberty of paying and grabbing both of your shoes, and you silently follow behind him as he leads you to your assigned lane.

“Weight?” he asks, tying his laces.

You glance up from your own shoes, watching as he shucks off his jacket. His arms flex nicely under the material of his shirt, straining against the fabric as he ties a knot.

“Huh?” you ask, not entirely present.

Changbin stands, smirks slightly. “What ball weight do you use?”

“Oh, uh, an eight please.”

He nods and disappears off towards the racks of balls, leaving you alone to scold yourself.

“Christ. Get a grip.” You mumble, smacking your forehead lightly with the palm of your hand.

It’s been a while since you bowled. When you were younger, your dad used to take you every once in a while and marvel at how good you were. That was a long time ago, when you had the time to enjoy things rather than work nonstop to keep yourself afloat. It’s kind of bittersweet being back in an alley, different circumstances but still the same familiarity.

Changbin comes back with two balls in his hands and places them on the ball rack. He glances over to where you’re keying in the names, smiling softly when he notices that you put him down as BIN.

“Ready to have all of your hopes and dreams crushed?” you ask, knocking your shoulder with his.

Changbin fakes a stumble, rubs his arm like you full on punched him. “Oh God, I don’t think I can play now.”

“Nice try sweetheart,” you scoff, picking up your ball just as the screen signals for the game to start, “Watch and learn.”

You move up to the beginning of the lane, trying to ignore the way Changbin whistles playfully when you do. The ball fits perfectly in your hand, round and smooth. One deep breath, you pull your arm back, slowly walk forward, and bend at just the right moment to send it off with a thud as it hits the lane. You watch with your breath held, hope that you’re able to prove you’re not all talk, and smile proudly when the ball goes crashing through the center pin, knocking them all out.

Changbin’s jaw is on the floor when you turn around. “Your turn, hot shot.” You say sweetly, patting his shoulder as you plop down in the seat next to him.

He clears his throat. “Alright.” He grunts, stretching his arms for dramatic effect. He lets out a loud yell, one of those Hoo! noises that people make before they’re about to do something crazy.

As he lines up to go, he turns, kisses his hand and blows it in your direction. “This one’s for you!” He shouts, winking when you hide your face in your hands out of embarrassment.

You watch as he rolls it forward, leans his body to the left when it curves way too far to the right, and then your hand is flying to your mouth to stifle your laughter when the neon pink ball goes straight into the gutter.

“Ah!” He screams, throwing his hands up and behind his head. He whirls around, points an accusatory finger in your direction, “You did this!”

“Me? What’d I do?”

“You distracted me!”

“I did not!

“How am I supposed to focus when the most beautiful girl in the world is watching me?”

“I—” you scoff, fighting the blush on your cheeks as Changbin walks toward you with a shit-eating grin, “Shut up. Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He crouches in front of you, trying to catch your eyes when you avert his gaze.

“Stop sweet talking. That’s a violation of the game rules. Cheating. You’re trying to distract me.”

“Trying to distract you or trying to get you to fall head over heels for me?”

You blink, “You don’t have to try and do that.”

Changbin searches your eyes for a long while, like he’s trying to decipher whether or not you’re being sincere. It looks on his face is one of disbelief, like it’s hard for him to be convinced that you reciprocate any of what he feels.

“Now who’s sweet talking?” He laughs.

“I’m not sweet talking, I’m just being honest.”

“That’s my line!”

“Well,” you say, standing to take your turn, “I wasn’t gonna steal your bad bowling skills was I?”

The game continues on after that. Changbin somehow manages to score three more gutterballs until you decide to take pity on him.

“Here, like this,” you say, walking up behind him. Changbin freezes when you press yourself up against his back, your hand steady on his forearm as you adjust his positioning.

“This is a little—”

“What? Don’t like it?” You giggle.

He clears his throat, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

When he sends the ball straight into the middle of the pins, earning his first strike of the night, he can barely contain his excitement as he yells, picking you up and spinning you around while you laugh and throw your arms around his neck.

It feels like floating, being with Changbin. He’s goofy and sweet and he knows exactly how to push your buttons all while making you feel as though you’re the only girl in the world. His smile is as bright as the sun and the way his eyes lock on to yours at any given point in time have you wishing you could lose yourself in them forever.

🎳

In the end, you win. It’s not a surprise to either of you, but Changbin couldn’t be bothered to care less. It doesn’t matter to him, not when he feels like he’s won the lottery every time you smile in his direction. And if that wasn’t enough, when you silently slip your hand into his as the two of you walk back to the car, he swears that he’s the richest man alive.

The feeling is mutual for you, too. Changbin has a way of making you feel like nothing else exists, not when he’s grinning at you from ear to ear and making you laugh so hard your stomach hurts. He’s unprecedented, a stroke of good luck, someone who came into your life when you least expected it.

Changbin, to you, is uncharted territory. He laughs loud and smiles unabashedly. If there’s a lull in conversation he’s not afraid to fill it with one of his many noises or silly dances. He says what he thinks and doesn’t care if it’s too cheesy or makes your cheeks turn just a shade darker with embarrassment.

Changbin is consistent; the first guy that hasn’t thrown you for a loop when it comes to figuring out who he is and what he likes. Changbin is someone you could see yourself falling in love with, one terrible pick up line at a time.

“So…” he says as soon as he walks you to your front door, “I had fun.”

You laugh, glancing down at where he has your pinkies linked on both hands. He’s so cute, everything about him. Changbin, Changbin, Changbin.

“Mmhm, it was really fun teaching you how to bowl.”

Changbin groans, leans his head against your front door. “I was under pressure.”

“That’s okay, I thought it was cute.”

“Hm. Does that mean I didn’t ruin my chances at a second date?”

“Depends,” you say, moving your hands up to clasp behind his neck. Changbin’s immediately fall to your waist, almost like second nature. Right, right, right. Everything feels right. “You could come inside and show me if it’s worth it or not.”

“Jesus,” he mumbles, “Don’t do that. You’re gonna drive me crazy.”

Changbin’s words are slow, each one more breathless than the last. It’s almost intoxicating.

“Maybe I want that.”

“Good,” he whispers, leaning down to brush his nose against yours in silent question, “Because I’ve been crazy about you since the moment I first saw you.”

When his lips finally connect with yours, you’re thankful for the grip he has on your waist that prevents you from stumbling. Sweet like the syrup he bought for you that first morning, kissing Changbin is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not hurried or messy; it’s not done with the intent of something more to be given. It’s slow, purposeful, Changbin takes his time like he’s worried if he doesn’t you might break right beneath his fingertips.

He hums softly when you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulls you closer until you’re flush against him. Chest to chest, heart to heart—Changbin holds you like he never wants to let go.

When you finally pull away, his eyes are glossy, shining with adoration. You could get used to that.

“So you don’t want to come inside?” You ask again, smiling when he bites his lip.

“Not tonight babe, it’s only the first date. I don’t put out like that.”

You scoff. “Yeah? Well you definitely put something somewhere when I was—”

Changbin cuts you off with a palm over your mouth. “What kind of pancakes do you want tomorrow?” He laughs.

“Mmrrnnf.” You say, muffled his hand. When he removes it, you push your lip out into a pout. “I don’t want pancakes—just want you.”

Changbin closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then lets his forehead fall against yours. “You’re making it really, really hard to hold myself back right now.”

You giggle, jutting your lips forward to give him a quick kiss. “Good, it’s working.”

He sighs. “Second date, and then maybe we can talk about…other things. But right now, I just want you to enjoy this. Let yourself settle with the fact that I really, really like you. This wasn’t just a one night stand for me, nor did I ever want it to be.” He plants a kiss on your nose, “I’m kind of, like, crazy about you.”

“Me too,” you say quietly, “About all of it. I want to keep seeing you, Bin. I want to see where this goes.”

Changbin beams. “Good.” He leans down to kiss you one last time, nothing more than a press of his lips to yours, but it’s more full of emotion than the last.

When he pulls away and starts walking backwards to head back down to his car, he feels like he’s on top of the world.

“I’ll text you in the morning?”

You nod. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Good,” he says with a wink, “The pancakes are on me.”

There’s a tug in your chest at his words. It’s crazy how something so small, something so simple can make you feel so strongly for someone. But you guess that Changbin is just like that.

And when you open the door, Felix’s entire body falling over the threshold from where he was leaning against it, you can’t even be bothered to get mad.

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie @drhsthl @shays-library @giuliadesu @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @snowyquokka @caitxx1 @skzstarnet] **colored tags indicate my inability to link your account. this could be due to an error when you filled out the google form or you do not have tags on.

© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 14

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: You try to make amends with Seungmin. Chan wants to meet with both you and Felix.

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings.

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

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Felix shakes you awake in the early morning to let you know he’s leaving. You want him to stay just a little longer, to relish in his warmth, but you know it’s too risky to actually be caught in bed with him. He gives you a kiss on the forehead and you find yourself smiling as he shuts the door behind him. He invites you to train after breakfast, with both him and Changbin this time. You don’t downright decline his offer but you tell him there’s something you need to do first. 

Seungmin’s absence at breakfast is notable. The tension is in fact palpable and you find it gnawing away at your insides. You know deep down nobody here actually blames you for what happens (except maybe Seungmin), but you still can’t help but feel like it’s your fault. 

Felix knew where you were going after breakfast before you even told him. You weren’t surprised by this. Still, at 10 a.m. you knock on what you know to be Seungmin’s room. You pick at the split-end strands of hair while you wait for a response. It’s Jeongin who answers the door. 

He lets you in wordlessly. You wonder if Seungmin would have done the same. 

You stare at his sleeping frame on his mattress. You can tell these sheets are fresh because the ones stained in blood sit in a heap in the corner of his room. When he’s sleeping like this he looks awfully young for his age. You can’t help feeling sorry for him, for all of them really, having experienced way more than a lifetime of trauma. You’re reminded that he’s human, that you’re all human, but Seungmin in particular is just trying his best to get by. Surely, things were smooth before you’d arrived and you’ve just become a hindrance. 

You almost think for a moment that maybe you should have brought flowers and you nearly laugh. Would you have picked them from the backyard? Re-purposed the ones Chan gave you for your date? That probably would have been rude. Seungmin doesn’t seem the kind to appreciate the gesture behind giving flowers, at the moment. 

“He’s not mad at you, you know,” Jeongin says. You suppose you had been staring at Seungmin just a bit too long, not saying anything. You let out a half-hearted laugh at his words. “No, I know,” he starts, running his hands through his hair. “I mean it though. The aggression, the anger, it’s not you it’s really directed at.” 

You mull over his words. “Felix said the same thing yesterday.” Jeongin gives you a sad smile, looking up at the ceiling. 

“He’s not the only one upset with Chan,” he says finally. “I think we all are, in our own ways.” 

“You’re angry at Chan?” you ask quietly. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” he says quickly, almost defensive. “I… I don’t know that I’m allowed to say that. If I’m allowed to be angry at him. It’s just, I… we all owe him so much, you know?” 

You swallow thickly at his words. “That sort of sounds like a toxic relationship to me, don’t you think?” you joke. It’s not a joke. 

Jeongin doesn’t look at you. He just smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Did he promise you something too?” you ask, walking a little bit closer to him. You’re worried if you pry too much, he’ll close up and not reveal anything else to you. 

“You don’t… you don’t know the whole story,” he explains. 

“I don’t,” you confirm. “But I know that something’s not right. I know you could probably be doing something so much more. You have passions, desires, dreams…”

“I can’t get there on my own.” He’s justifying it, whether to you or himself, you’re unsure. 

“Jeongin, what did he promise you?” you ask him finally. 

“He’d pay for my school,” he tells you, finally making eye contact. “He would pay for my fashion school in full. I can’t afford it without him, without this.” Your heart sinks in your chest. You wonder how long Chan has been holding that over him for. You don’t get a chance to respond, however, because another voice interrupts you. 

“Y/N?” Seungmin asks groggily. He seems to have just woken up, but he’s definitely still a little bit out of it. 

“Hey,” you say, walking to the side of his bed. He reaches his hand out for you and it takes you by surprise. You tentatively accept his reach, intertwining your fingers together. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, voice raspy. Out of all things, you were not expecting this. This is not the same Seungmin who screamed bloody murder last night, who had to get dragged out of the room because he was in hysterics. This is the Seungmin you have come to know. 

“Don’t be,” you console. “It was a perfectly justifiable reaction. I’m sorry, really. I hope you get better soon.” 

He squeezes your hand before letting it go. He really, truly seems remorseful for last night. You’re unsure if he has anything to apologize for. You probably would have done the same. 

“Seungmin, you want meds?” Jeongin asks, shaking a little orange pill bottle. Seungmin takes the bottle, dry swallowing two blue pills. You don’t want to know what it is. 

“He’s going to be a little out of it,” Jeongin tells you. “You’re probably good to go.” You wave to Seungmin, wishing him well before you leave the room. You shut the door behind you, taking a deep breath. You feel better now that you have a little more closure. It went better than you thought it would. 

You meet Changbin and Felix in the training room shortly after. You’re flipped onto your back more times than you can count during self-defense training, and though you’re slightly frustrated you can’t help but notice your own improvement. Even though you’re defeated, it takes a lot longer to get you there. You can get in a few hits, and you’re doing better at blocking and reading their hits. 

You have shooting practice with Jisung after. It goes… a little less smooth, admittedly. But you can’t help but feel like you’ve become a force to be reckoned with. You’re not the same, easily threatened girl that showed up a month ago, beaten close to death. You’re not the same girl that Woojin dared to mess with, and you’re certainly not the same girl that you were before you were in captivity and watched Jungwon die. You’re confident–you’re different. You’re glad you accepted Felix’s help after all. 

And so that night you drag Felix into your room after dinner. You can’t keep your hands off of him. You’re not sure what has gotten into you, but the two of you rush. Clothes are discarded without a second thought, and when hands roam each other's bodies it’s fast, hard, for quick pleasure rather than explorative or sensual. 

Felix licks onto your neck and you need to remind him not to suck; you can’t risk him leaving a mark. When his hand finds your center you’re already soaking, bucking your hips desperately into his hand. 

He’s quick to bend you over your mattress and fuck you from behind. His hands cup your breasts, using them as leverage when he snaps his hips into yours. You’re surprised how quiet he is–he’s usually the talkative type, but it seems you both have one thing in mind. 

Your release comes fast and his follows. He helps you dress, look presentable again. He sits on your bed and you sit next to him, your head resting on his shoulder. You play with his fingers, running your fingertips up and down his calloused hands. You’re not sure why it feels so different this time, why there’s a pit in the bottom of your stomach. Why neither of you are talking. 

Then the knock comes. 

It’s as if you had both expected it before it happened, like you had a sixth sense for being interrupted in these quiet moments with one another. 

It’s not Minho you’re expecting. But it’s the news he brings that you are. 

“Chan wants to see you.” 

“I’ve been summoned,” you say, cracking an anxious smile at Felix as you make to leave your room. 

“Actually, he wants to see both of you.” Oh. Oh. That you were not expecting. Felix seems perplexed by this news as well, and the two of you walk to Chan’s office in silence. 

When you open the door, Chan is standing with his arms crossed across his chest. It makes you nervous, immediately thinking that he knows. He knows about you and Felix and something bad is about to happen, you’re sure of it. But once again, your intuition proves you wrong. 

“Sit,” Chan urges. 

You do. 

“I wanted to check in with you, Y/N, after what happened last night,” he starts, still not sitting. 

“Oh, um, it’s okay, really. Everything’s alright now.” You smooth your hands out on your lap, torn between making eye contact and staring at the floor. You choose to meet his gaze despite the way it unnerves you. 

“I’m glad to hear that.” he clears his throat. “As you now know, Heeseung has been making efforts to move forward against SKZ. He has been pushing with some more aggressive tactics.” 

“Won’t it end if you just let me go?” you ask him. 

“Ahhhh. Well, you know better than that, don’t you? He has it out for you sure, but he has it out for us just as much. So, no. Nice try, though.” 

You wring your hands together, choosing your next words carefully. 

“You could let me into ENHA, to infiltrate.” 

Felix stands abruptly but Chan silences him with a single gesture. He immediately sits back down. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Chan says with a charming smile that doesn’t match his tone. “You must be mad. I’m not going to turn you over to the enemy.” 

“Think about it,” you say. “I show up, beg Heeseung for forgiveness—”

“Forget about it.” 

“And when he’s least expecting it, I kill him. Our problem is solved, Chan! Nobody will have to get hurt because of me again.” 

“I said NO.” His voice booms as he enunciates the word. You watch his chest rise and fall and he rounds the desk to where you’re seated. He crouches right in front of you, his face inches from your own. 

“What do you know about killing?” he asks, voice laced with venom. “What do you know about attacking someone, about infiltration? You’re weak. This is not a job meant for you, Y/N.” 

You’re weak. You try not to smile at that. Because whereas that might have stung a while ago, not an ounce of you believes that to be true. Felix blinks. 

Chan stands, his back cracking as he stretches his arms above his head. 

“Felix, I was hoping I could borrow you tomorrow for a mission,” Chan says, ignoring the way your jaw clenches when he doesn’t meet your gaze. 

“Yeah, whatever you need,” Felix confirms. 

“Y/N, you’re dismissed,” Chan states, his eyes still on Felix. With a small huff you stand, making your way to the door of his office before you hear him suck air through his teeth. “Wait,” he says, closing the distance between the two of you.” Your heart stills for a moment as he gets infinitesimally close, his warm breath against your skin. 

“Y/N…” he pauses, his fingers gliding up your neck to poke a spot against your neck. “What the fuck is this.” 

“Um… Chan, what…”

He lets out a sigh, his fingers running through his hair. “A hickey. You have a fucking hickey, Y/N. Want to explain how that happened?” 

You close your eyes just so you don’t look at Felix by mistake, but Chan’s fist slams into the wall next to your head, causing them to shoot open. A frame on the wall falls to the ground, the glass on it shattering open. 

You don’t bother to deny the accusation. What’s done is done. You cannot help but guffaw when Felix finally speaks, incriminating himself when he tells Chan “It was me.” 

Chan does not seem surprised by this information. He blinks once, twice, and lets out a half-hearted, cold laugh. 

When Chan crosses the room in an instant punching Felix square in the face you let out a blood-curdling scream. Felix does nothing to block the hits, taking them one after another. At one point you recognize your own body crossing the room, grabbing onto Chan’s bicep, begging, pleading for him to stop. You make eye contact with Felix for one split second, watch him spit blood out of his mouth before smiling a sad smile at you, and you’re pulling onto Chan again before you hear a loud thwap. 

He has just backhanded you across the face. You barely register the pain–you more feel the warmth radiating across your face. 

It’s now that Felix has stood up and the fight has truly begun. 

It gets messy fast. A slew of curses and fists are flying, and you even get in a hit or two of your own. Chan doesn’t hit you again, but someone does have to pry you off of his back where you’re desperately trying to get him to stop his fight against Felix. You think it’s Minho’s arms that wrap around you, pulling you away from the man, and you see Changbin step in between Chan and Felix. 

“Y/N, go to your room,” Chan spits harshly. 

“Don’t hurt him, please, I’m sorry, just please don’t hurt him–”

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” 

And so you walk to your room, a mess of tears and snot and blood that’s not your own. You’re not sure why you’re even following his directions, but you don’t know what you would do otherwise. When you get to your room you slam the door behind you and slump to the floor, succumbing to your sadness. 

A hickey. You got caught over a fucking hickey and the problem is you can’t even recount the exact time that Felix left it. You thought you had been so careful… that gut feeling you had that something was wrong wasn’t so far off after all. 

Twenty minutes have passed by the time Chan enters your room. You look up at him from your spot on the floor, shaking only slightly. 

“I said this to Felix, but I’m going to tell you as well. If I ever catch you two touching ever again, you’re dead. Both of you. Are we clear?” You nod your head at him with a grimace. “And as for you… you are not to leave this room. The only person to give you permission to leave is me, the only person allowed in is me. You’ll have meals in here from now on until I decide you can handle otherwise.” 

You don’t dare to speak or protest. You feel sick to your stomach. 

When Chan leaves your room, he shuts your door behind you. The loud click that comes after is deafening. After a few minutes you check that, yes, the door is indeed locked from the outside. You’re stuck in here. The window is already bolted shut from your escape attempt on your first night here, and now you are completely locked in this room, stuck between these four walls. 

The only good thing about this place has been taken away from you, though, and it’s not even your freedom. You never really had that to begin with, did you? What you did have was someone who showed you kindness, someone who cared and made you smile. Someone who saved you time and time again but then helped you to get stronger so you could save yourself on your own. 

You cry yourself to sleep but you are smug in the fact that you got in more than one hit on Chan. You stood up for yourself in that room and fought back even if it wasn’t a success. 

You are not the same person you once were. You will find a way out of this.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

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[staysdelulus]

Stray Kids - Lee Know [MDNI!!]

Kinktober Day 12!!

Summary: Lee Know and you, the ninth member of SKZ

Warnings: fem!reader, pinv, no protection, blowjob, and more

Word Count: 1740

The ninth member of Stray Kids. That’s what fans liked to call you, as the only female member of the group, and being the youngest, the boys adored you, always taking care of you, incorporating you in their fun, and making sure you were always staying safe and feeling okay.

And the closest member of yours? Lee Know. He was always nice to you, shifting on the couch to press against you, dropping a bag of chips in your lap, sneaking into your room to cuddle with you late at night… you always felt good in his arms. Always.

But somehow, everything had gone south. The members liked to tease, it was glaringly obvious to even fans. But today in particular, Lee Know was in a worse mood, and as a few of the members - Changbin, Han, and Seungmin - began to tease him, he had lost it, snapping at everyone and getting mad.

And now, everyone was seated in the living room, gathered around the TV for a movie night. You cautiously make your way to Lee Know, sitting down next to him. “Hey, Lee Know.”

He only huffs slightly in response, shifting away slightly when you try to nestle next to him. You chew your lower lip, sighing softly before offering him a bag of popcorn to share. “I made extra for us to share, if you would want.”

He grunts softly, looking away and focusing on the TV screen. Understanding that he wanted space, you stay to the side, glancing at him from time to time. Each time you attempt to move closer to him, he only shifts away, giving you a good glare. When he does it for the sixth time, you give up, looking down at your hands. The sight of the popcorn you had prepared for him reaches your eyes, and you put it down on the table, muttering an excuse to leave. Without another word, you leave, the eyes of the other members following you worriedly.

Bang Chan makes his way to my now empty seat, sitting next to Lee Know before he speaks. “Lee Know.”

Being the eldest, the others often joked about his age, but with Bang Chan’s tone right now, his leader-tone, as everyone liked to call, made Lee Know begrudgingly answer. “Yes?”

“Did you really have to do that to Y/n?” Bang Chan asks, the movie long forgotten. “You know how she is. And she didn’t… she wasn’t even part of the teasing, Lee Know.”

“I know,” Lee Know hisses. “I just-”

“Lee Know.”

He rolls his eyes, huffing slightly and crossing his arms stubbornly. When he does so, Bang Chan rolls his eyes, sighing in exasperation. “If Y/n is crying right now, Lee Know, it’s going to be your fault.”

At his words, Lee Know’s eyes snap up to Bang Chan’s. The last time Lee Know and I had fought was ages ago. He had been stressed, and in his irritation, he lashed out at you, telling you to just leave him alone. You listened. For far too long. Avoiding him for a full week before he had finally found you and forced you to listen to him, to explain that he had snapped in his irritation, and he wasn’t going trying to get you to actually avoid him. You had broken down to tears, crying in his arms as his eyes filled with guilt. And that was when he had silently vowed to never hurt you that way again.

“I-” Lee Know’s voice falters, but Bang Chan cuts him off. “I’ll go take care of her right now. You can go fix it later.”

Lee Know’s eyes follow Bang Chan’s, and when Bang Chan opens the door to my room gently, he catches a glimpse of my teary face, and he freezes. Without another word, he stands up and makes his way to your room, hovering outside.

His ears catch onto the words. Bang Chan’s voice rings out. “Come on, Y/n, you can do it.”

“I can’t-” your voice comes out in a slight whine, slightly strained as you speak. Lee Know presses his ear closer to the door, his hands clenching at the soft whine that came from you.

“Y/n,” Bang Chan sighs softly. “Come on, you can do it. Just a little more-”

“Chan, please-”

At the words that come out of your mouth, Lee Know barges into the room, his eyes blazing as he focuses on the sight in front of him. You were on your tiptoes, jumping up to try and grab a box on a shelf you couldn’t reach. Right as Lee Know enters, you manage to grab it, and Bang Chan cheers. “You got it!”

He grins, jumping up from where he was sitting on your bed, grabbing your hands and twirling you around as you giggle, dropping the box to the side as he scoops you into his arms. That’s when he freezes, immediately setting you down when he sees Lee Know. Lee Know, whose eyes shift to you, your eyes wide when you see him, immediately shrinking into yourself and subconsciously hiding behind Chan.

“I think… I think Lee Know wants to talk with you,” Bang Chan says gently, although his voice remains firm.

“But-” your voice is cut off by Lee Know, whose voice hisses at Chan. “Go.”

Bang Chan raises an eyebrow at his words, but he doesn’t argue, instead stepping out of the room. When he’s gone, Lee Know closes the door, eyes fixed on you.

“So what? You’re dating Bang Chan now?” he snaps. Your eyes widen at his words, and you take a small step back at his snarl. In your eyes, he seems out of character, his face slightly flushed as he glares at you. In his mind, he can imagine it. The sight of you and Chan, you in his arms, face slightly flushed, the way he would hold you and touch you, your voice breathless as you-

“God, Y/n!” he snaps. You flinch, jumping in surprise at his sudden change of tone. At your flinch, his hands clench into fists, and he makes his way to you, his eyes closing for a second. “Y/n, I…”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, looking down as he approaches you. “I wasn’t- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad-”

“Y/n,” he whispers again. He gently reaches out to you, tilting your chin up as he presses closer to you. “I think- no, I- I know I like you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, breath hitching. “Lee Know- I-”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his eyes brimming with tears. “I just- I need- I want you to be mine, okay? Seeing you with Chan- just- I just-”

You press your lips against him, leaning up on your toes to meet them, his hands immediately falling to your waist, eyes closing as he pressed back. His tongue flicked out, hands finding the hem of your shirt as you gasp, pulling away for a second. Quickly locking the bedroom door, he groans softly as you gently push him onto the bed, your knees falling to the ground, him handing you a pillow to make sure they didn’t hurt.

Soon enough,, he’s bare, his arousal throbbing as you look up at him, eyes wide. He lets out a groan, head thrown back as his hips twist slightly in desperation, pre-cum leaking out of him already. Without another word, you take him in your mouth, gagging slightly at his size. Grabbing your hair gently, he guides you, one hand reaching for the length you can’t reach as you continue to suck, tongue laid flat in your mouth.

You let go for a second, gasping as you spit onto him, running your hands over him as he groans softly. Without warning, he pushes your head down onto him again, and you’re taking him in once again, whimpering softly at his length. He grasps your hair tightly, hips thrusting up as you gag, him coming right into you.

Lips wrapped around him, you drag your lips off of him, his eyes wide as he watches you open your mouth, showing him what you had held in your mouth. He taps on your jaws, his breath hitched. “S-Swallow- fuck, Y/n-”

You whimper softly, swallowing it fully before your eyes lock with his, licking his length once more before he loses it, losing his mind as he stands up, grabbing you gently and pushing you onto the bed.

Without another word, his lips are on you, hands finding your thighs and pushing your legs apart. “Y/n. I- Do you want this? Are you sure?”

You swallow, eyes watching him nervously. “I- I’m sure, Lee Know. Please- I- I need you, please-”

At that, he groans, pushing himself into you, his head thrown back for a second before he focuses on you again, watching your face flush, his lips meeting your, falling to your neck as he groans at the feel of you.

“Y/n- you feel so- so perfect, fuck,” he groans, leaving marks on your necks.

You whimper, his length stretching you out perfectly as you begin to reach the high. “L-Lee Know, I’m g-gonna come- c-come-”

And with that, you reach your high, whimpering and whining, moaning his name as he fucks you continuously, overstimulating your body before he finishes in you, gasping as he falls on top of you, body rested on your elbows to stop himself from squashing you.

He lays down next to you, eyes fixed on the ceiling before he speaks softly. “Y/n, you felt… you felt really good.”

You flush slightly, turning to him before snuggling against him. “You too, Lee Know.”

He laughs softly, turning to face you, eyes brightened as he kisses you gently. “This won’t be the last time I’m going to be all over you, Y/n. I’m… I’m going to take you out. And- And make you all your favorite foods and- and I’m going to make you the happiest girl alive.”

You giggle softly in return, smiling sleepily as his arms wrap around you. “And I’ll do my best to make you the happiest man alive.”

“You already did, baby,” he whispers. The two of you continue to talk softly, murmured voices filling the room, unaware that the other members had given up watching the movie, having heard the whole… ordeal.

[jisungiesvzz]

You Need To Eat Well

Han Jisung x fem!reader

Warnings: eating disorder, panic attack, anxiety, throwing up, fluff at the end?

Word Count: 1.8k

P.S. This is my first post so please let me know if I’ve missed warnings! Also, this is NOT proof read so send in any typos or wtvr lol.

----------------

It was around lunch time when you were with Jisung and his members in their practice room. They were arguing over a particular dance move while you lay on the couch in the corner, mindlessly scrolling through a social media app. 

“Alright enough!” Bangchan said, raising his voice a bit.

You flinched slightly at his sudden unexpected tone change. The members went silent but Jisung stared at you, noticing your sudden movement. You noticed him staring and quickly went back to looking at your phone.

“Clearly we are all frustrated with each other and arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

The other members nodded their heads in agreement as a bunch of sighs went around the room.

“You’re right,” Changbin chimed in. “It is a little past lunchtime, let’s grab something to eat and start up again after.”

You shuttered at the idea of eating in a group.

“Yeah, I could really use some food.” Hyunjin agreed. The other members simultaneously shuffled off to their bags to grab what they needed before regrouping at the door.

You saw a shadow approaching you and you set down your phone, sitting up to see who it was.

Jisung.

“You should come with us, you need to eat too.”

“Uh… yeah no I’ll go with you guys.” You replied back, making sure to avoid the part about you actually eating.

You grabbed your phone and wallet and walked out the door with the group. You tried to subtly walk behind the members to avoid the topic of food without making it obvious. Seungmin and I.N were debating very loudly over which ramen place would be better to eat at. Hearing the word ramen made you feel physically ill. You did your best to put on a smile but Jisung noticed you were a little pale and matched your pace to walk next to you. 

“How are you feeling? You look a little pale.” He asked, trying to sound calm but his concern was more evident in his voice than he intended.

“Oh I’m pale? I feel fine though.” You said trying to sound convincing.

“Are you sure?” He asked, not believing you.

You nodded your head with the best reassuring smile you could muster up. You could tell he didn’t really believe you but before anymore could be said you had arrived at the restaurant.

The group grabbed a table and you tried not to sit next to Jisung to avoid him noticing your eating pattern. You sat next to Felix and Bangchan which made Jisung frown a little but he shrugged it off and sat next to Felix.

Minutes went by and your mood began to change for the better as Felix started excitedly talking  to you about his upcoming Louis Vuitton photoshoot. You slowly forgot about where you were until the waiter came up and started taking everyone’s orders. It came to your turn and you were already dreading everyone looking at you, waiting for you to order. You pretended to look at the menu and then ordered a small appetizer. 

The waiter finished writing down the orders and walked away.

“Y/n-ah you should’ve ordered more, that won’t fill you up,” Lee know stated from across the table.

Your stomach dropped. Everyone was looking at you.

“I uh- I ate a big breakfast, I’m just… not that hungry right now,” you felt so pathetic through the lie. 

“Breakfast was so long ago, we’ll order you some ramen,” Bangchan said, waving down the waiter before you could reject his statement.

The food arrived moments later, and the second the bowl was put in front of you, you felt so nauseous. 

It’s too much food. You look like a pig eating this in front of them, Don’t it eat, they’re judging.

You tried to wait a couple minutes before excusing yourself to the bathroom but you almost threw up just thinking about picking up the chopsticks. 

“I’m gonna head to restroom real quick,” you said quickly and you sped to the bathroom.

You swung the door open, not bothering to lock it behind you. You immediately started belching and throwing up into the toilet. Tears streamed down your face as you continued throwing up. The door cracked open and you faintly heard someone’s worried voice.

“Y/n-ah…?”

A second later, someone was dashing towards you and holding your hair back. You shuttered aggressively once you stopped vomiting and let out a shaky whimper. You felt someone’s hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles on it. 

“What happened...?” You recognized the voice. It was Jisung.

You sighed not wanting to speak.

Jisung grabbed your chin and turned head to look up at him. He looked you in the eyes and he could see the hurt in them.

“Talk to me. Please, Y/n…” he quietly begged.

“I just feel sick, it… it could be a c-cold.” You stammered through your lie.

It was evident in his eyes that he didn’t fully believe you but after a few moments of thought he let it go.

“I’m gonna tell the members you’re not feeling well then I’m taking you home.”

“Ji, I’m fine-”

He cuts you off, “Y/n don’t argue with me. You are sick and you need rest.”

You sighed and gave in, nodding your head. He helped you stand up and headed back to the table to grab your things.

—————

You lay in bed staring up at the ceiling with Jisung laying next to you. It had been quiet for a while, leaving plenty of time for Jisung to think. He noticed you were pale again.

“Do you think you can get down some broth?” He broke the silence.

You internally gagged but he didn’t notice.

“I’m not hungry,” you reply weakly.

He sat up, slightly hovering over you, “Y/n, I’m worried about you. You’re super pale, it’s not normal.”

He thinks you’re ill. You can’t eat. He’ll laugh at you for wanting food.

“Stop, please…” you begged, rubbing your face “I can’t think about food anymore… please, just stop.”

The tears were forming again and that’s when Jisung caught on.

“Are you… Y/n when was the last time you really ate?”

“I told you, I ate this mor-”

He cut you off, “Don’t lie Y/n, when was the last time you ate.”

Silence feel between you two. Tears pricked Jisung’s eyes as his suspicions were confirmed. He didn’t say anything before getting up and leaving the room.

He’s leaving you. He thinks you’re pathetic for not eating. You can’t eat. Don’t eat. He’ll think you’re a pig.

The thoughts kept rolling in and you started to panic, your thoughts consuming you by the minute. A couple minutes go by and Jisung comes back in with a small cup of broth. He sits on the edge of the bed and moves the cup towards your lap. You shake your head but he just looks at you with pleading eyes.

“Think of it as flavored water, yeah? It’s not food.”

“I- I can’t…. I-” 

The panic is setting in. Your breathing became labored and you started shaking uncontrollably. You desperately tried to calm down but everything felt like it was caving in on you; the ceiling, the walls, the mattress pulling you into an endless abyss as you gripped at them tightly. 

Jisung practically threw the cup onto the nightstand as he saw you panicking.

“Hey what’s wrong?” He asked, concern evident in his voice.

You tried to answer but your breath kept getting caught in your throat. You begin clawing at  your chest as you felt like you were about to combust, tears now pouring out of your eyes. Jisung knew you were choking on your words and grew scared that you soon wouldn’t be able to breathe at all. He wrapped you in his arms, your head flesh with his chest.

“I need you to take deep breaths, love” he spoke, trying to sound grounded. “Listen to my breathing.” 

He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. You roughly tried to follow his breathing but it didn’t seem to be enough. You wanted to speak again but he stopped you.

“Don’t. Please, just… just keep breathing,” he took one of your hands and put it on his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. It was slow and steady, reminding you that he was there with you. He soothingly rubbed your back as your breathing began to slow down and your shaking subsided.

You sniffled softly before Jisung spoke again.

“What’s going on in your head, Y/n? You need to let me in. You’re not okay.”

“I don’t think this is something you can fix.”

“I can try. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“I… I just feel like I’m constantly getting judged by people when I eat. I’m constantly comparing myself to how much others eat and I constantly feel like I’m defined by how much, how little, or even what I eat.” You sniffled and blinked trying to hold back your tears again.

‘Oh y/n…” he cooed, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. ‘That’s not true. You need to eat well. People care for you and we aren’t judging you.”

Jisung’s voice cracks as he also begins to tear up, “It hurts me to know that you feel this way. But I want you to know that I’m here for you, every step of the way. I’m going to help you through this, okay?”

You lifted your head off his chest, your eyes irritated  and red from crying. You looked him in the eyes and saw his hurt,  but through that hurt you saw comfort, reconciliation and… love. His gaze softened as he cupped your cheek with his hand.

“You are loved. You understand that? I…” he paused for a moment. “I love you.”

Time froze. Your heart melted at his words.

He loved you. 

His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. He leaned closer leaving barely any space between you, giving you a chance to back away. When you didn’t move, he closed the gap between you in a melancholy kiss. He conveyed his love for you in that sweet moment and you felt his love radiated throughout you. 

Jisung broke away from the kiss and leaned his forehead against yours, slightly short of breath.

There was a moment of silence between you but that was all you needed. 

“I love you too.”

[writingforstraykids]

Letters Of Love - Felix🖤

Pairing: Felix x gn!Reader (poly!skz)

Word Count: 813

Summary: Next you remember a day with Felix, baking brownies together.

Warnings/Tags: fluff

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Seungmin | Jeongin

You scroll through your photo gallery until your eyes catch on a particular image that makes your heart flutter. It’s one of your favorite pictures—one that perfectly captures a day filled with sweetness and laughter. The photo is of you and Felix, standing side-by-side in the kitchen, covered in flour and chocolate batter, both grinning as if you’ve just shared the world’s funniest inside joke.

In the image, Felix is holding up a wooden spoon with a bit of brownie batter on the tip, his other hand making a playful peace sign next to his cheek. There’s a smudge of chocolate on his nose, and his freckles are even more prominent under the bright kitchen lights, like tiny constellations dotting his sun-kissed skin. You’re beside him, leaning in close, a flour handprint marking your cheek—the culprit being Felix, of course, who had decided a few minutes earlier that making a mess was half the fun of baking. The two of you are surrounded by mixing bowls, measuring cups, and ingredients scattered haphazardly across the counter. In the background, you can see the oven’s timer counting down, the scent of chocolate almost tangible in the photo.

That day had been one of those unexpectedly perfect moments. You’d been feeling a little down, overwhelmed by the stress of the week, and Felix, with his uncanny sense for your moods, had suggested you bake something together. “Chocolate makes everything better, love,” he’d said with that sunshine smile of his, and you couldn’t argue with that logic. So, you’d put on some music, rolled up your sleeves, and let Felix lead the way.

It hadn’t taken long for the kitchen to turn into a chaos of laughter, teasing, and stolen tastes of sweet batter. Felix, ever the perfectionist, had tried to follow the recipe step-by-step at first, but it didn’t take much for him to abandon his usual precision in favor of playful improvisation. He’d ended up accidentally flicking flour at you, which had spiraled into a lighthearted war of ingredients. By the end, there was more batter on the counter (and on each other) than in the actual pan, and you both had to pause multiple times just to catch your breath from laughing so hard.

But the real magic happened when the brownies went into the oven and you both settled onto the kitchen floor, backs against the cabinets, just talking softly. Felix’s voice, low and soothing, had filled the space as he shared stories and dreams, his eyes shining with that quiet passion that always leaves you in awe. You’d listened, mesmerized by the way he seemed to light up just from being able to share a small moment like this with you. When the timer finally beeped, you’d both jumped up, eager to see the finished product, and the look on his face when he took the first bite—eyes wide, cheeks dimpling into that radiant smile—was sweeter than any dessert.

With a fond smile, you attach the picture and start typing your message, knowing exactly what you want to say to the boy who turned a simple baking session into a cherished memory.

---

Message to Felix🐥❣️:

Hey Angel,

I was looking through some photos, and I found this one from our brownie-baking day. Do you remember? I swear we got more batter on each other than in the pan! But I loved every second of it. You always know exactly what I need, even when I don’t know it myself. That day, I was feeling so stressed, and then you came along with your smile, your warmth, and your endless positivity, and suddenly everything felt lighter.

It’s not just the baking itself that I loved—it was being with you. I think that’s what you do best, Lixie. You make even the simplest moments feel special just by being yourself. I still remember sitting on the floor with you, listening to you talk about everything and nothing. You have this way of making life sweeter, of turning every second into something to smile about. Like magic.

Thank you for always knowing how to brighten my day, for bringing that sunshine energy wherever you go. Happy anniversary, my Angel. Here’s to more brownie battles, more flour fights, and more moments filled with your laughter.

Love you to the moon and back.

Your partner-in-baking and forever taste-tester

---

You send the message, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you picture Felix’s reaction. He’ll probably smile that wide, dimpled smile, eyes crinkling with joy. He might even send back a photo of his own—maybe of the same batch of brownies, or maybe just of him holding up a wooden spoon, ready for the next round. Because that’s Felix—always looking for ways to make you smile, to keep filling your days with the sweetness that only he can bring.

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Seungmin | Jeongin

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@zehina @jinnie-ret @atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @theo4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuuru @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @minh0scat @dis-trict9

[ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal]

Don’t ever tell yourself that you’re not enough, I am certain that you’re truly fine

PART ONE

Ot8 x reader

Word count: 785

Just a warning, this is my first fanfic! It does have age regression themes, so if you’re not a fan, I ask that you respectfully just don’t read it <3 also, this will definitely have some angst

!THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!

It had its hard days being their friend. Part of it was from the hate you would receive from fans, and another was how you'd eventually fallen for them through the years. You always liked Han, way before his debut, but you never wanted to tell him. You didn’t want to mess up the friendship you cherished with him, and you also figured he wouldn’t feel the same. Now, those same feelings of possible rejection only grew.

Friday quickly came. That meant it was the weekly game night with you and the guys. When Han told the guys how much you loved video games, Felix was over the moon and decided that once a week, we all would spend our night playing games and enjoying each other's company. We all sat in various places in the living room. Some were seated on the couch, and some were on the floor. I was seated on the floor, leaning against the couch with a controller in my hand as I played against Hyunjin, who sat next to Changbin on the couch.

“Yah! You cheated!” Changbin tells me once the match is over, showing how I beat Hyunjin in a one-on-one match.

I turn quickly to look at him, but before I can say anything, Felix interjects for me. “How can you say she cheated when we were all watching her?” He asks, eating a brownie. “Also, why are you speaking for him?”

Then, the dorm was filled with banter; something that always happened during these nights. Han would stand, start arguing with Jeongin about God knows what. Chris would try and make peace amongst everyone, Seungmin would have his camera out recording everything, and I would just sit there laughing, not wanting to be in the middle. But tonight was different. Instead of laughing, I stayed quiet.

Today was a particular hard day at work, and just like Han, sometimes your anxiety gets the better of you. But I did not feel like burdening the guys with my problems. Normally, on days like this, it wouldn’t fall on game night, and I can go home and regress. I knew if I passed on game night that the guys would worry, so I tried to push my anxiety and the need to regress aside.

“That’s enough!” Chris speaks up to the guys after realizing I've been quiet since the match ended. Chris’ worried eyes stay on me, but he doesn’t mention anything to me. Instead, he sighs. “Clearly, the arguments are doing more harm than anything, so let’s just all watch a movie.”

“It is actually getting pretty late. I should get going,” I tell the guys softly as I stand up, which makes the guys worried.

“You never leave on game night,” Minho says suspiciously, his eyes squinting as if he’s trying to read me. “And if you do, you let one of us bring you home.”

“I just have some work to catch up on,” I say, trying to make an excuse, earning a scoff from Minho.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Since when do you care about doing work on your days off?”

I sigh, knowing he is right, but I have to leave before I have a mental breakdown. “Min, I just have work-” I start to say, but he cuts me off.

“(y/n), I swear, if you start giving me that excuse again, I am not going to be happy.” Minho says firmly, concern written all over his face. My eyes slightly widen from his firm voice, my mind threatening to fall into that familiar headspace. Before I can say anything, Han interjects.

“She might have just had a long day,” Minho sighs, and stands up.

“Well, I had a long day, too, but I am not making up lame excuses to try and leave,” Minho’s words cut me like a knife. I know deep down, his words are coming from one of concern, but I still can’t push past the hurt he is making me feel.

I stand there as I see Minho walk away, my eyes filling with tears that threaten to fall. When I hear the door slam, I flinch, and that’s when my tears break free. Han immediately comes hug me, holding me tightly.

“He didn’t mean it, (y/n/n). Minho Hyung is just worried,” he tries telling me, only for my tears to fall harder, which makes it even harder not to slip. I can’t do that in front of the guys. They’ll judge me. They’ll hate me. I can’t lose them. These thoughts keeps flying through my head, not realizing that my tears are making the guys panic, since they haven’t seen me cry before, besides Jisung.

PART TWO

[styrvexxual]

Han Jisung's Guide to The College Experience (CH. 1)

My child, my first ever fic, right here on Tumblr

minsung-centric (ft. a few side ships ;) )

7.3k words

Nothing 18+ here -> not sure what's happening later

college au, not quite enemies to lovers but like kinda, me projecting my hatred for college on skz

also posted on ao3 here :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/61759963/chapters/157886353

An empty stage, save for a single microphone conveniently placed center stage. Enter stage left, one Han Jisung. “College fucking sucks,” he says into the mic.

The result is a resounding agreement, applause echoing through the room. People have even started throwing flowers towards the stage (and various other items that shall remain unnamed). The aforementioned Han Jisung has never felt more seen and accomplished, this shall go down as the greatest moment in his otherwise bland, unimportant life. That is until he hears a faint booing from somewhere in the third row.

Kim Motherfucking Seungmin

Or at least, this is how it would’ve played out in said Han Jisung’s head if this situation happened. In hindsight, he realizes that might be the wrong person to play the role of his daydream arch nemesis given that Kim Seungmin usually cannot be bothered to give two shits about most things, and definitely wouldn’t attend a speech given by Jisung even if just to be a general disturbance. Changbin on the other hand, the man who lives to give Jisung the younger brother treatment and constant humiliation? Now that might be just a slight bit more realistic.

Take right now for example. Fall registration, the worst part of the year for any underclassman who wants a sliver of a chance at classes that will prove themselves useful for their degree. Chan and Changbin, two upperclassmen who have taken it upon themselves to ‘adopt’ Jisung in a sense after he was able to squeeze himself into an actually useful lower-division music production class the other two had also enrolled in last semester, filled their schedules hours ago and were able to find classes that might one day provide them with their degrees. The rest of the day proceeds as follows:

The three rented a studio space for the day to begin recording for their last final project of the year knowing that they would each have to halt the process for their brief window of an enrollment period. Going into their senior and junior year respectively, in addition to their overachiever tendencies providing them extra course credits, Chan and Changbin had prime enrollment times earlier in the morning while Jisung had to wait until the late afternoon before he could even think of opening his laptop and checking his schedule.

After hours of anxious leg shaking and tense recording sessions, Jisung found himself in front of his laptop, refreshing the page as soon as it loaded until the buttons lit up that let him enroll in his courses. As soon as his enrollment window opened, a scream that could be heard across campus regardless of the soundproof recording booth was let out.

“Waitlist? Fucking bullshit is what it is.” Jisung muttered as he found himself able to enroll in only one of the five classes he had planned on for the next semester. Tens of thousands in yearly tuition payments and he can’t even get a fucking degree? Absurd.

Luckily his friends had taught him how to make backup schedules because surely there’s no way everything he wanted to take was full, it’s not like there are that many people on this campus. Right?

Wrong. After a grand total of six separate schedules and 16 courses Jisung was even considering taking (including those horrific STEM classes the school wanted him to take to graduate thank you very much) only two other classes had spots, neither of which fell under his major. At this rate, he wasn’t even going to be allowed to come back to campus with how barren his schedule looked.

“Chat, I fear we might be cooked here,” Jisung said to no one in particular. Well, actually that’s a lie, as there are two other people in the room with Jisung, and he would very much so like them to bestow upon him their worldly advice.

“Jisung, as funny as I might find this, which mind you is incredibly hilarious, you do need to find another class to fill your schedule,” Changbin responded. As objectively right as he is, Jisung hopes all of his classes get canceled so he can feel a fraction of the stress he’s currently under.

“Have you considered sorting by classes with available spots? You might as well just take what you can get before you’re stuck with waitlists longer than the class size.” Chan adds. He’s never wronged Jisung before and he’s already under enough stress, so he can have a slightly better fate. Maybe only a class or two was canceled, or a waitlist he’ll never get off of.

In all honesty, Jisung wouldn't wish his fate upon anyone, not even Kim Seungmin. Now that he’s been brought up within the confines of Jisung’s mind palace, he wonders how enrollment went for his roommate. Probably significantly better considering he took six classes a semester his first year and the classes for his major have 200 spots compared to Jisung’s 25 spot music classes. Jisung briefly considers swapping his major to computer science, as studying classics like Seungmin is quite frankly too pretentious for him, but quickly remembers how poorly that would go for him as he had to drop his course on the subject last fall before he failed it. Surely he should’ve gotten some good karma from the computer science major he got off the comically large waitlist. Wait, that's not the point here, enrollment closes in five minutes and Jisung still doesn’t have a fourth class.

“That’s it, I’m sorting by classes with available spots and just clicking on one. As long as it doesn’t stop me to tell me my schedule conflicts it literally cannot be worse.” Jisung announces to the room. It’s not like a university campus has classes so useless this backfires on him.

“You sure about that one? I mean you could at least try to find something that fulfills a graduation requirement. I'm sure something still has space.” Jisung hears Chan ask in the background. He pays no mind to this warning and instead clicks on a random class that pops up with available spots.

“There’s no way you seriously just signed yourself up for a two-hour 8 am every Monday and Wednesday. I don’t even care what that class is, you’ve just screwed yourself beyond belief here kid.” Changbin says, cut off only by his laughter. Jisung doesn’t really find this situation humorous, but to each their own he supposes.

With that, the enrollment window closes and all Jisung is left with is 4 class codes and the worst schedule of his college years. How can someone end up with an 8 am every day of the week but also an 8 pm? Jisung closes the tab his schedule is on, refusing to believe this is something that actually happened to him. Before doing so, he noticed a class code under one of his 8 am classes that wasn’t on his schedule before, CDM101, clearly the class he signed up for randomly. Surely it can’t be that hard, it’s an introductory course, and the only classes he can think of that start with C are communications and chemistry, and anything under the latter is definitely full already.

The topic of registration is nothing but a stray thought in the back of Jisung’s mind, batted away like a cat toy. He’s enrolled in four classes, he won’t be kicked out of school, and at least something there will be going towards his degree. As the three begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel on their final project, they quickly wrap up their recording and agree to finish editing on their own and grab dinner instead as they have very little left. Three burnt-out college students versus a single final project for their music production class, who will win? Let the records state that although it was a concerningly close fight, the students did in fact win, and they all walked away with an A on their transcript.

As the three boys leave the restaurant, significantly more optimistic than they were walking into the studio (save for one Han Jisung), a lull in the conversation occurs and Chan just can’t seem to help himself because he immediately turns to Jisung and asks, “Are you sure you’ll be okay in your classes? You can always just talk to an advisor, that’s literally what they’re paid to do. We both know you don’t do well with mornings and I don’t want to see your grades slip just because you didn’t want to get up to go to class.”

Chan truly is nothing if not a worrying mother at heart. Jisung would find it endearing if it wasn’t contributing to his already soured mood over his classes. Yes his schedule sucks, and yes he will be immediately calling his parents once he gets back to his dorm to cry about it, but nobody needs to know that, especially his friends.

“While I appreciate the concern, it was truly never that deep, I’ll be fine,” Jisung responds, before fully turning to Chan to add on, “and everyone knows advisors are actually paid to be a pain in your ass and make sure you enroll in even less than if you just did it yourself.”

Yes, Jisung might be a little frustrated with his schedule, but he’s dealt with worse classes. Like that computer science class, but at least he could drop that one. So he signed up for a communications class, big fucking deal. He’ll just show up to the first lecture, find out if attendance is mandatory, and never show up again if it’s not. Communications classes are easy, he knows how to talk to people, and surely that’s what he signed up for, right?

Right?

——————------------------------

Wrong.

Again, seriously? Jisung wonders how many times he’ll be wrong before he gets something right because it’s apparently more than two. Well, it’s a lot more than two given his track record but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that Jisung needs to find his classes, starting with his Monday 8 am communications class. He left his dorm around 7:30 this morning, as he was positive this was all the time he needed to reach the mystery class, and right he was. Gold star for Jisung everybody! He should throw a party, maybe even invite his new communications professor.

Now Jisung knows some friends of friends who have taken a communications class or two for an easy A, so he knows the building this class is in is definitely not the communications building. He’s almost positive that the building in question is on the other side of campus, not two buildings away from the music building over by where the art classes are held. He also knows that classes tend to stick within the building of their department as to avoid confusion. So the question remains: What the fuck did Jisung sign up for last spring?

A dance class. A fucking contemporary dance class. It couldn’t have just been a communications class, a history of dance class, or even any other style of dance. It just had to be something that requires a genuine understanding of movement and a body with the capacity to do things no human should be able to do. It should be, in theory, or at least according to the syllabus and Han Jisung’s limited knowledge of the dance department, an easy A just like it would’ve been if he actually signed up for a communications class. However, there’s one bright, shining error in his brilliant plan to get an A.

Mandatory Attendance.

“Showing up is half the battle my ass,” Jisung mutters as he reviews the syllabus the professor had been handing out at the door. He hopes she didn’t hear him as that could possibly win for the worst first impression of Jisung’s college career.

Yes the final for this class is a paper, and yes he has maybe three homework assignments the entire quarter; but seriously, how hard is it to make a syllabus where attendance isn’t 50% of your final grade? At least in other mandatory attendance classes, the portion of your grade that attendance counts for tends to be insignificant enough that you could still get an A while missing a good portion of lectures so long as you did well on the exams. Jisung begins weighing the possibility of dropping out of college entirely and living off of Changbin’s trust fund when the door closes, signifying what is usually the beginning of class, but who fucking knows at this point, this is uncharted territory here.

“Welcome to beginning contemporary dance, I’ll be your professor for this semester.” A voice cuts through Jisung’s pessimistic stream of consciousness, “As stated in the syllabus, you will have a teaching assistant who will be attending class alongside you. Unfortunately, he couldn’t attend class today due to a conflict in scheduling within the department, but know that you have much to learn from him”

The professor continues to drone on about how despite the class being made for beginners, she expects effort and attention from all students regardless of their dance background, or lack thereof (definitely a pointed comment thank you very much); and then a few other things regarding the attendance policies and grading structure. Jisung, however, is paying shit attention to this little speech and hasn’t been since the professor mentioned a teaching assistant. He? Now don’t get it twisted, Jisung is in no position to be prejudiced. In fact, it’ll be great to have some boy doing spins around him for two hours at a time. Jisung’s never been able to focus too well in class without something to look at, so surely this will motivate him to show up at 8 am twice a week for the next 18 weeks. On second thought, it probably won’t, but it doesn’t hurt to hope.

Jisung’s thoughts are once again interrupted by the professor, this time addressing him directly. “Sorry, could you repeat that?” He asks, trying (and failing) to make himself not look like the biggest idiot on the planet.

“We’re doing introductions. Just tell the class your name, year, major, and a fun fact. Nothing too difficult, that comes later of course.” the professor tells him, adding a seemingly ominous wink to the end of her sentence.

Well, that’s easy, the same shit you do in every class, surely this sentiment will remain similar for the remainder of the semester. Jisung thinks for a second before responding with, “Hi everyone, I’m Jisung, I’m a second-year music major, and I’ve never danced before nor wanted to in my entire life.”

“Thank you for participating Jisung, and I sincerely hope this class can change your views on dance.” With the passive-aggressive comment from his professor out of the way, Jisung resumes his stream of consciousness. Today’s class seems to be largely focused on getting to know each other, which he does so on autopilot, listening but never taking in the words of his peers.

For once, the universe decided to work in Jisung’s favor, and class got out early, meaning he had an extra hour to spend before his 8 pm lecture that night that he didn’t really need but still liked having regardless. He found himself at the campus coffee shop he frequented his freshman year in the hopes of finishing those pesky homework assignments he was supposed to do before classes started. Say what you want, but summer homework is egregious and should be banned regardless of the subject. At long last, it was 8 pm, and time for a class that Jisung actually gave a fuck about, his sole music-related class; which turned out to be a history class? Look, registration was rough, and if he needs it to graduate, then by god Jisung is going to get that snoozefest done.

Luckily the class is one he shares with his friends, so really it could have been worse. You know, like the rest of his schedule. Once he reached the classroom, he noticed Chan and Changbin waving him over, having saved him a seat. Jisung knew what they wanted to hear, and briefly yet seriously contemplated running the other direction and taking the inevitable hit to his grade that ditching class would leave him with. Despite all this, he moves to sit between his friends, anticipating the immediate badgering and questioning, but not quite moving to deflect. Look, he just needs to complain, like seriously who makes an 8 am mandatory — attendance being half your grade at that? He pauses for a second and proceeds to voice this thought to his peers.

“You mean to tell me you’ve somehow found an introductory communications class at 8 am that lasts two hours, mind you, that’s completely mandatory and worth half your grade just to show up?” Changbin explains, looking a little too enthused by Jisung’s suffering.

“Nah dude, that’s the worst part, it’s not even a communications class,” Jisung responds. “It’s a fucking dance class. I have to participate and shit, can’t even slack off in the corner of a lecture hall.”

“You know, most people go to class to learn,” Chan adds. “It only makes sense that would be applied to more practical classes.” Curse him and his realistic worldview, and sue Jisung for using lectures to online shop and play 2048, it’s not like they aren’t recorded and uploaded anyway.

Upon giving his two cents, which are somehow worth more than most people’s despite still being two cents, Chan looks away to pay attention to the lecture. Jisung can’t help but thank him in his head. Not because he’s no longer grilling him, but because he knows Changbin won’t let up and neither of them will take a single note tonight.

“So what do you even do in that class? With your two left feet, I can’t foresee anything about this going well.” Changbin leans over to whisper.

“Bro, why are you acting like I know? All I remember from whatever that class was is that some dude is gonna come in and TA for us.” Jisung thinks for a second and adds, “I’ll probably just make friends with him and hope he can save my grade.”

“Your TAs a guy?”

“Yeah dude, didn’t realize you of all people would take offense to that. Isn’t your boyfriend literally a dance major?”

“Not where I was going with that dumbass. Was just gonna say I know a guy who’s TAing a dance class this semester.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Says the one who didn’t even know he was in a dance class until this morning.”

“Whatever dude, so what should I know about this mysterious TA guy? The prof kept hyping him up and shit, no way he’s that good?”

“I'm not telling you shit with that attitude,” Changbin says, finishing their gossip session before it could start. “Pay attention, according to what I just heard you need to if you want to pass any of your classes this semester.”

With that, Jisung turned back to the professor at the front of the room. Paying attention in a class where all of the lecture videos get sent to him is pointless, Jisung thinks as he opens 2048 on his computer, a game already in progress.

Tuesday went by in a blur, two general education classes Jisung will be doing the bare minimum for because no hiring manager in the history of ever is going to give a single shit that someone working in music production got a C- in their genetics class they were forced to take sophomore year. It was once Wednesday hit the semester began to immediately worsen, which Jisung didn’t even think was possible. Look, the 8 am classes every day are really starting to get to him, especially when paired with a class twelve hours later.

So he overslept and missed his dance class, no biggie, surely there’s a policy that says he can miss a few classes right? Every class has those, it’s like a fail-safe for when overworked college students inevitably find themselves too sick (or lazy, as seen here) so Jisung will be fine.

Or not. Seriously, one excused absence for an entire semester? That’s a little absurd, even for a dance class. Oh well, he’ll just have to go to all of the classes in the future if he wants a good grade. Better hope he doesn’t find himself catching every disease ever like all college kids do in the fall.

Thursday followed as per the Tuesday schedule, and Friday was empty save for a morning discussion class Jisung would rather dunk his socks in cereal and suck the milk out of than attend despite participation being a significant enough portion of his grade. Aside from the utter failure that has been trying to attend his dance class, Jisung was sure he could turn the semester around and make it into something bearable. Make lemons out of lemonade or whatever old people say when they don’t want you to believe it’s okay to be frustrated.

——————------------------------

Surely after the disaster that was trying to get to all of his classes last week, Jisung could bring himself to attend his 8ams, and attend his 8ams he did. Walking into the dance building at 7:55 am (see Changbin, not that hard) Jisung noticed a boy about his age approaching him. He takes a moment to think back to last week, trying to recall a face, name, or anything to help him remember this boy who clearly knows him. His strikingly blonde hair and round features allowed him to stand out amongst the crowd, and surely Jisung would remember meeting someone as unique as him. He comes up with nothing, and takes the last few seconds to pray that they don’t actually know each other and he isn’t about to severely offend someone.

“Where were you on Wednesday?” the boy asks, “It kinda sucks being the only guy in this class, well except for the TA I guess.”

“I’m really sorry but, do we know each other?” Jisung responds with the only thing he’s thinking at this moment. “I don’t mean to offend you, I just do not remember a thing from the first class and I feel like I’d remember meeting you.”

“Well not yet I suppose, but that’s what this is for. Lee Felix, a second-year dance major.” The boy, Felix as he now knows, reaches his hand out, presumably for a handshake.

“Han Jisung, second-year music major. If you don’t mind me asking, why are you in a class for beginners if this is what your degree is in?” Jisung worries he’s pried a bit too much for a first-time conversation, but he really doesn’t understand why someone who loves dance enough to major in it is in a class with the likes of him.

“Don’t worry, people already questioned me about it last week, I’ll give you the run down since you weren’t there. I’m auditing the class, which means I kinda just show up when I feel like it and don’t worry about a grade.”

“Dude I wish that was me. I signed up for this class by chance after I was under the credit limit.”

“Seriously? I hate to break it to you, but you’re really in for something different if you signed up by accident. I mean, just wait until you meet the TA, he’s really gonna have it out for you if he ever hears that.”

“The TA? Don’t worry man I have that covered. All I gotta do is play nice and make friends, and he’ll help me get an A, right?”

“Wrong.” The second Jisung hears this from Felix, all he can do is put a little tally next to the chart on his brain whiteboard next to ‘wrongs’. The ‘rights’ side is regrettably empty save for when he made it to class on time (does that count?). “Don’t think I’m trying to scare you or anything, he’s not a bad guy, it’s just… he can be a little more on the serious side when it comes to dance. I mean I’m sure you get it, being in the arts and all that.”

“Whatever man, just wait. I’ve got this in the bag already.” Jisung says as they enter the studio together. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots something, or someone that is, that definitely wasn’t there last week. He likes to think he’d remember seeing someone like him. He also believes he’d remember every single girl in that class (which mind you, is everyone with the exception of Jisung and Felix) shamelessly staring the same guy down as if he was the last croissant at that trendy bakery down the street from Chan’s apartment. It makes something akin to jealousy shoot down Jisung’s spine and into his fingertips. Look, it’s not what you think it is, he doesn’t even like girls like that, but he sincerely doubts Mr. Twinkle Toes over there does either, he’s in a dance class for fucks sake. It’s just the whole attention thing; Jisung loves being the person in the room that people feel compelled to approach (except for when he really doesn’t), and this guy is hogging his spotlight. Jisung does the only thing he thinks can help him in this situation, and turns to Felix to ask, “Who in the everloving fuck is that?”

“Who?” He distantly hears Felix’s response over the sound of blood in his ears as he makes eye contact with the mystery man. Jisung really just thinks it’s unfair, how can someone have such an objectively perfect face, and maybe now he understands why all 20-something girls just can’t seem to look away from their classmate. His stare is piercing, almost as if he’s one of those mind readers Jisung worries about when his thoughts get a little inappropriate for the situation, and now all he can think about is if that’s exactly what’s happening right now.

Regrettably, before he can really unpack what any of that is supposed to mean, the professor walks in, and any fraction of the boy’s attention that Jisung held is immediately lost to what he thinks is a motivational speech to open the class.

“Alright everybody, today’s class will be focused on Horton Technique” the professor starts, “As a lot of you are not dancers, we will begin the class with a bit of a lecture on the history of the form. Contemporary dance is deeply rooted in the evolution of modern dance forms, so it is important we begin with these foundational techniques”

As the professor drones on about the history of modern dance, a voice in the back of Jisung’s mind reminds him that although there are no exams, the homework assignments are probably based on what she’s saying right now. He proceeds to throw that out the window and instead stares at Mr. Twinkle Toes from his place across the room. Look don’t judge the nickname, it's not like Jisung knows his real name and honestly, the nickname is kinda funny and definitely going to stick around for way too long whether or not they ever even exchange greetings.

What he finds, however, is not a sight he had been expecting. TT, as Jisung will now be taking to calling the boy in his head since Mr. Twinkle Toes is long and pretentious and must be saved exclusively for peak comedic timing, is already looking right back at him. Seriously, what is this dude's deal with Jisung? All he wanted when he signed up for a random class was some inner peace and an easy A, and now he’s not sure he’s got either of those. Unfortunately, just like every other time, Jisung has attempted to get any form of information on his mystery man, his professor has decided to stop lecturing and move on to actual dancing, causing both of their gazes to break.

This professor is really starting to get on Jisung’s nerves, can’t she see he’s on a mission here? Clearly more important than whatever the fuck Horton Technique is.

“To begin our warmup series, we will be learning a flat-back combination. This exercise engages your muscles and prepares the body for more rigorous movement” Jisung is vaguely aware of the teacher as she guides the class through the combination, focusing on keeping his head down and refusing to attract negative attention.

The teacher repeats the combination twice through movement, once verbally, and declares this enough before moving to turn on the music. Jisung can’t help but notice that Mr, Twinkle Toes seems to have taken to standing front and center of the studio. Teacher’s pet much? It’s not like he could possibly be good enough to warrant standing there in the first place. Jisung may not be a dancer, but he and Seungmin did drunkenly watch reruns of Dance Moms one night after finals, so he knows that front and center is reserved for special people who can actually dance.

Mystery Boy, as it turns out, is in fact one of those special people who can actually dance, and Jisung finds himself entranced by the way he effortlessly completes the exercise Jisung couldn’t even remember with the repetition and explanations. He suddenly finds himself grateful he’s placed himself directly behind Mystery Boy, and no it’s not because he has a good view of his ass you pervert, he’s wearing sweats anyways. Jisung learns that standing behind him does actually provide him with some knowledge as he simply repeats the movements he sees in front of him, albeit a little sloppier.

As the exercise draws to a close, and the professor moves to command the attention of the class, Jisung realizes something he had been previously ignorant of.

The music

Well, if you can even call it that. Jisung doesn’t understand how Mr. Twinkle Toes up in the front can do the exercises so flawlessly when the sound of nails on a chalkboard would be more audibly appealing than this monstrosity contained in his professor’s iPad. To each their own, he supposes, as he proceeds to figure out how to get his brain to tune out the music for the remainder of the class.

The professor leads them through a few more simple warm-up exercises in the center before announcing that they’ll be moving to the corner to try a few exercises across the floor. Jisung finds himself grateful for this, as if he ever has to do a Lateral T exercise again he might just do something drastic enough to change the trajectory of his professor’s life. He finds himself towards the end of the line the class has formed, alongside Felix, and notices that Mystery Boy has taken up a position at the end of the line. Given his assertiveness at the front of the room, and unfortunately, his ability to dance better than Jisung previously assumed, it seemed like he would be the kind of person to rush to be first in line.

Not that Jisung is complaining, this just means that he doesn’t have to embarrass himself by going after someone who actually knows what they’re doing.

The teacher then leads them through Jisung’s new least favorite exercise. The worst part? It’s not even supposed to be that hard. It’s basically a glorified walking pattern across the length of the studio, something about familiarizing yourself with the ground or whatever, and Jisung just doesn’t get it. He proceeds to share this with Felix, who goes over it with him while they wait in line, and he could kiss Felix for how he saved him from being a walking (literally) embarrassment.

Unfortunately for him, his Mystery Boy is soon after him, and he’s forced to watch the most graceful walking of his entire life. He didn’t even know walking could be so graceful before taking this class. You learn something new every day it seems. Jisung is infuriated by the boy and his strange affinity for walking, and he decides that Felix needs to hear this.

“Who the fuck does he think he is? It's enough to be that obnoxiously talented and objectively attractive, but to know it like he does too?“ Jisung whispers to Felix a little louder than expected. Before he can check if anyone heard him, he feels someone’s breath on the back of his neck, far too close for comfort.

“It’s rude to talk about people behind their backs. I guess I was wrong to assume your parents would have raised you better than that?” He hears from behind him, whispered directly in his ear.

Jisung finds himself unable to move, or speak for that matter. In a true life or death scenario (not that this isn’t), his instincts would immediately choose freeze over the much more useful fight or flight, which should worry Jisung, but he’s a little preoccupied. He says what is apparently the only thing he can think of when faced with strangers recently, which ends up being an incredibly eloquent, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Lee Minho, it’d do you well to remember that. Your TA as well, although in hindsight that part might be a bit more important” he gets in response.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I swear whatever you heard, I really didn’t mean it to be rude. I’m just struggling with the class and dealing with it in an even worse manner. But since you’re my TA, you can help me, right?” Jisung adds that last part alongside some serious puppy-dog eyes as a last-ditch attempt to make Minho believe that Jisung really is just in awe of him and not a jerk.

“Yeah, fat chance after that display. You have a far better chance of getting help from Lixie over here, it’s not like he doesn’t know the same things I do.” So that didn’t work.

“There’s really no need to get snappy Minho, I swear he didn’t mean it like that.” Felix decides to add in at that moment, and thank god Jisung has someone to come to his aid like this,” He really is just curious, he missed class last Wednesday anyways.”

“Yeah, whatever, just don’t let me catch you talking like that again. I’m not a bitch but I will take it up with the professor if you want to choose to act like a child in a college course.” Minho finishes with that, brushing past Jisung before he can even utter another apology.

The rest of class continues somewhat normally, Jisung keeps his head down and mouth shut to avoid inadvertently offending another classmate or worse, his professor. Minho seems to preen even more given that the professor is making it more and more aware that he is the TA, and incredibly talented at that. She couldn’t have done that an hour ago before Jisung was given the perfect opportunity to humiliate himself? This class keeps getting worse.

At long last, class is released, and Jisung is free to hide in his dorm for the rest of eternity out of shame. He almost makes it out of the dance building unscathed, but not before he runs into Felix waiting for a more advanced dance class after the one he shares with Jisung, who offers apologies on behalf of Minho as well as a chance for him to help Jisung better understand the class and his phone number.

Jisung really doesn’t have it in his heart to tell Felix he’s seriously considering dropping this class over how horrifically he’s embarrassed himself. He also doesn’t have it in himself to drop the class when he checks the app on his phone as he begins his walk, so he might as well accept the help where he can. He texts Felix, asking if they can meet outside of class, and heads off towards his dorm.

——————------------------------

Jisung left class that morning more confused than he’d ever been in his entire life. He likes to think of himself as a people person, even though he is one of those people who spends his solo walks and that awkward period of laying down before you fall asleep thinking of every conversation that’s ever gone wrong in his entire life. Honestly, this truly is one for the books, how was he supposed to know Mr. Twinkle Toes was his TA, and how the fuck was he supposed to know that Felix wasn’t playing about him actually giving a fuck about dance. Now Jisung gets it, he’s an artist too, it sucks to have your work devalued or seen as lesser, especially as a student. But it’s not like he even said anything rude to Minho, in fact, he was incredibly complimentary of him, so he really doesn’t understand what upset the other boy so much.

Jisung’s self-deprecating depression spiral over his stupid dance TA, who doesn’t even matter anyway like who even cares, comes to an end when he reaches his dorm and slams the front door a little harder than normal, startling his roommate. Kim Seungmin may be a little shit who makes (lovingly) snide comments towards Jisung whenever he finds the opportunity to do so, but there’s a reason Jisung chose to room with him again despite totally having a way out of doing so. Okay so he didn’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that he really does love Seungmin and appreciates his ability to stay put together when Jisung absolutely cannot.

“The fuck happened to you? I haven’t seen you this upset since spring registration.” Jisung hears Seungmin ask. Although he really isn’t in the mood to ‘talk this out’, he has to admit that Seungmin might have something interesting to provide.

“It’s just my TA for that stupid dance class, not like it’s important or anything.” Jisung responds, “He’s just so… infuriating.”

“Oh? How so?”

“We were going through class like what I assume is normal, and I went to say something about him to my friend in the class and I guess he overheard and flipped the fuck out over it.”

“Well, what did you say? If you’re talking shit about someone and they hear it’s not like they’re going to be particularly excited about that, you idiot.”

“No, I swear nothing like that! I was just upset that he was so talented and objectively attractive AND confident on top of all of that. I didn’t even know he was my TA for fucks sake” Jisung proceeds to flop across their shared couch for dramatic effect, surely Seungmin will take pity on him.

“Wait, what’s his name? I know a few dancers myself you know.” He did not, oh well. Curse Seungmin and his ability to be impartial about situations.

“I think he said it was like Lee Minho? Something like that, not much to go off, unfortunately.”

“Do you have a picture of him?”

“No what the fuck why do you need one?” Jisung feels weirdly called out by this as he does, in fact, have a photo of him. Sue him for being able to find the socials of the boy in question, not like it was that hard.

“I’ll tell you if you show me a picture of him”

“Fine.” Jisung relents, handing over his phone, opened to Minho’s Instagram account.

“Oh! I do know him, didn’t think this is who you’d be talking about though. You sure this is the right guy?”

“Absolutely. How the fuck do you know him, you literally study old books for fun and he’s a dancer”

“We grew up together dipshit, and don’t shit talk about my major. It's not like yours is anything useful either.”

He really got Jisung there. On the Minho thing, a music degree is perfectly useful, thank you very much. Unless he ever decides he wants to do something that isn’t specifically music production, but that’s a thought for another time. Back to the whole Minho Problem. That’s right, it’s become a Problem, with capitals and everything. Could Jisung tell you why he cares so much? Not at all, but that’s why he needs to get to the bottom of this.

“You know, I really didn’t expect that to be who you were talking about. As much as he was a pain in my ass growing up, being older and all that, he wasn’t outright rude” Seungmin adds, “I mean he’s kinda got the closest thing you can have to a reputation on a college campus, dude gets along with everyone.”

“You’re joking. Well clearly nobody’s taken a dance class with him before. Or even heard that he dances.”

“You do realize most of those people in your class are there for the sole purpose of taking class with him, right? The dance department shows are only as popular as they are because of him. I heard they even got more people auditioning this past week because he’s in the shows.”

Now that he mentions it, that does make a lot of sense. Jisung was wondering how it was possible for one person to attract that much attention, but if they already knew who Minho was, of course, they would be looking for him. It also makes sense as to why he might not remember Felix from the first day of classes as it sounds like auditions for the dance department’s production were why Minho couldn’t make class. Seungmin’s next statement snaps him out of his train of thought.

“You know I feel like I should be a bit more hung up on the fact that you’ve been calling my childhood friend ‘objectively attractive’ whatever the fuck that means, but I really can’t bring myself to sit with that right now.” Leave it to Seungmin to find something even less helpful to interject with.

Jisung really needs to reconsider who he seeks advice from, maybe he should talk to Felix more. He really should’ve lied about what he said about Minho, but seriously how was he supposed to know Seungmin was all buddy-buddy with him?

“Whatever man, I’m going to bed. I’ll just like avoid him for the rest of the semester or something, doesn’t affect me.” Jisung says to Seungmin, hoping it’s enough to keep his roommate from prying. “Alright? I assumed you caring enough to rant to me about it meant you’d do something about it, but that’s not on me to inspire that in you.” he hears Seungmin snark in response. So what he knew Minho or something, people change from when they’re kids.

Despite going into that conversation seeking the truth, or at least validation that Minho is totally, ultimately in the wrong here, Jisung can’t feel anything but regret for how their conversation went down this morning. Now it’s not like all of a sudden Jisung thinks what he said was wrong, he just wishes he might’ve said something different so that he wasn’t the most hated classmate of his TA. He just wants a good grade in his dance class, that’s all.

As he tosses and turns in an attempt to get some sleep before his 8 am that night, he can’t help but wonder why he cares so much about what Minho thinks of him.

Just a bit later, while far along the way to the land of dreams, Jisung blinks awake with a genius idea. You see, late at night, right when you’re about to fall asleep is the greatest time to come up with a plan. Well, not quite a plan, just a name:

Seo Changbin.

[ihaveconfessd]

A Little Bit of Everything Part 16

Bang Chan x Changbin x Reader

Summary: college!AU, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, minor crack

Warnings: panic attacks, stalking, mentions of SA (past), language

Disclaimer: the following is a work of FICTION and in no way represent the actual people depicted. This is for entertainment purposes only.

This fic will deal heavily with sexual trauma, abusive partners (past), panic attacks and other sensitive topics, please take care of your mental health and read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2199 words, 6 screenshots

NOTES: So when I first drafted this chapter, I knew the conversation that needed to be had could absolutely not happen via text... so enjoy your very first (and possibly only) prose chapter

Taglist: @aalexyuuuhm @fixation-dump @finnbbl

......

“Hey, someone is trying to get your attention,” Hongjoong whispered, gesturing with his chin towards your phone.

“Huh?" You looked down at your phone, seeing all the notifications from the group chat and private messages from Felix and Hyunjin.

Why were these weirdos texting you from across the apartment?

“It’s just the kids.” You responded lowly. “They’re lighting up the group chat like the antisocial little gremlins they are.”

Hongjoong laughed, leaning in to look at the laptop screen you and Seonghwa shared. “Sounds like Wooyoung. Now that you mention it, quite a few of your friends have disappeared.”

You looked up from your screen and scanned the main area for your boys, doing a quick head count as you went. “Yeah, you're right.” You chuckled. “If I had to guess, Minho and Jisung are making out somewhere, and Seungmin is being a hermit. Probably studying.”

“You know them really well, huh?” Seonghwa laughed, fingers flying across the keys even as his eyes were elsewhere.

“Where's your boyfriend?” Yunho asked, eyes scanning the room.

“He was in the kitchen, wasn’t he?” Hongjoong supplied. Yunho shook his head.

“No… the other one.” Yunho’s eyes swept the room again, slower this time. “Changbin. He’s gone.”

Your eyes rapidly searched the room again and confirmed Yunho’s statement. Changbin was gone.

“Channie!” You called from your spot at the table. Ryu jumped a little at your voice, and Chan placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he looked at you. “Where’s Binnie?”

Chan furrowed his brows and looked around the room, realisation dawning on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but Felix cut him off as he stood up.

“Oh my God, did you guys even check the group chat?” he snapped. “ I texted you.”

You stood so fast your chair clattered to the floor, but you didn’t stop—you were already moving.

“Where’s Binnie?” You all but screamed, Chan grabbing you by the arm as he rounded the counter to stand with you next to Felix.

“He’s in his room. The door is locked, and he's not answering any calls or texts.”

This revelation caught the attention of almost everyone in the room and sent a chill down your spine.

Chan said nothing, turning towards the hallway and bolting down it towards the bedrooms. You followed him, with Felix and Hyunjin hot on your heels.

“Babe?” Chan called. He shook the knob violently, and when it failed to open, he pounded on the door with his fist. “Baby, are you in there? Changbin, please!”

You pressed your ear against the door and were met with silence. “Are we sure he’s in there?” You asked no one in particular.

“His keys are on the hook, and his location hasn't moved from the apartment.” Someone answered, Minho, maybe.

You're not even sure where he appeared from.

“Changbinnie?” you tried. “Changbin, answer me, please.”

“Baby, please.” Chan choked on his words as a sob escaped his throat. His breath was coming in sharp gasps by now, telltale signs of a panic attack.

“...go away…” You barely heard it over Chan’s pounding, but you did.

Changbin was inside; his voice sounded raw, as if he was trying to hold back tears.

You turned to the others and frantically waved your hands for them to leave. The hallway was crowded with worried faces and you could see the overwhelm on Chan’s face. You grabbed his hands before he could pound on the door again.

“Binnie? Baby, it’s Y/nnie, can you open the door please.”

“Changbin, let me in, please,” Chan begged again. “Please, baby, please, please.”

 “GO AWAY!” Changbin barked suddenly, causing you and Chan to jump. “Get the fuck away from me!”

Chan looked like he’d been shot, a stray tear finally making its way down his cheek.

“Changbin, what-”

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fucking fault.” you heard him wail. “I'm the cause of all this.”

“ Changbin, come on, you know that’s not true.”

“IT IS, CHAN!” There was a crash behind the door- something heavy collided with the wall and shattered. 

“I’m the one who decided to join the fraternity! I'm the reason you got with Dae in the first place!” Chan flinched, like the words were a physical blow, but Changbin continued. “I'M THE REASON WE ENDED UP AT THAT PARTY. IT'S ALL MY FAULT.”

“Don’t!” Chan slammed a violent fist against the door, making you jump. “Don't you fucking DARE, Seo Changbin!”

“It’s true!” He sobbed, hard. “I never should have gotten involved with them. I should have known they were bad news!”

“Changbin-”

“SHUT UP! JUST STOP IT CHAN!” 

“Changbin STOP!” YOU YELLED, seeing the heartbreak on Chan’s face. “Changbin. Stop, please, you couldn’t have known”

“I SHOULD HAVE!”

The entire hallway fell into stunned silence under the weight of Changbin’s words. Chan stilled, no longer pounding on the door, and backed away from the door until his back hit the wall. He slid down it and collapsed onto the floor.

“I thought they were my friends…” Changbin sobbed. “I thought they were my brothers.”

You’ve never heard him talk about his time in the Omega Kappa Xi fraternity since he terminated his membership a year ago. You saw everyone in the apartment's living area sitting in stunned silence. Jeongin looked terrified, Felix looked like he was crying, and Seungmin made his grand appearance from wherever he hid in the apartment.

“They only asked me to rush because of my family's money…” Changbin continued. “I met Kofi, and I thought he was so cool. Then I got in, and Minho didn’t, so I should have left. I should have said no, and none of this mess would have happened. Then Channie never would have met Dae-Un, and they never would have dated, and he never would have been-”

Another heart-wrenching sob cut off his rant, and you heard another crash. “I SHOULD HAVE BEEN SMARTER ABOUT IT! I SHOULD HAVE PAID ATTENTION! FUCK!”

“Changbin, we can't change that now.” You said gently. “I wish I could. I fucking wish  I could go back in time and stop all this shit, because then you wouldn’t  be in this much pain right now.” You pressed your forehead to the cool wood of the door and felt a tear slip down your cheek. “Changbin, no one blames you for what happened. None of us would EVER blame you for ANY of that.”

“They used you, just like they use everyone—but you got out, Binnie. None of us thinks any less of you for anything that happened, and no one blames you for anything. We love you, Changbin. I LOVE YOU, CHANGBIN. Please… please let me in…” 

The hallway was so quiet you could hear every shaky breath. Your pulse thundered in your ears. A muffled sob from inside was the only sound, the only sign of life beyond the door.

Chan sat frozen against the wall, shoulders trembling—until something shifted in his eyes. He pushed himself up slowly, grabbed your arm and pushed you to the side, causing you to land in Minho’s arms.

Chan stepped back and raised his foot, sending it crashing against the locked door.

Once… 

Twice… 

On the third time, the wood splintered and the door flew open. It was so reminiscent of that night a year ago. The night when Changbin was the one kicking down the door to save Chan from Dae and his friends. Minho had been there that night too, except he was rushing in behind Changbin, not holding you still.

You had felt helpless then, too, just like you did now. 

“GET OFF ME! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” you heard Changbin scream, followed by the sound of scuffling.

You could feel your heart fraying at the edges, helpless in a way you hadn’t felt since that night. But this time, you weren’t frozen. You were here, and you weren’t letting go. You fought out of Minho’s arms and ran into the room right behind Chan, seeing Changbin sitting on the floor in the far corner. 

His face was covered in tears and snot, and he fought against Chan as Chan tried to hold him.

 “Just leave, Chan. It’s all my fault.”

Changbin didn’t even look up as Chan held him tighter. His body was trembling, breath shallow, like he was bracing for a punishment that never came.

And still, Chan held him.

“I can't believe you.” Chan sobbed, anger clear on his face. “I can't fucking believe you held this shit for so long.”

“Go away.” Changbin wailed. “I’m a monster.”

“Shut the fuck up, Changbin.” You finally spoke up. You’re not a monster. You're not OKX; you're not anything except the love of my life.”

You knelt next to him and Chan. They had shifted positions so that Chan was now leaning against the wall, with Changbin clutched tightly to his chest. His eyes were shut tightly, and his sweat-soaked hair fell into his face, hiding him from the world.

“Changbin, I love you so much—we love you so much. Me, Chan, Minho, and Hyunjin—all of us love you, Changbin.”

“Do you think I could ever blame you?” Chan sobbed. “You saved me. You got me out of that room, you drove me to the hospital, you stayed with me and loved me through every panic attack, every nightmare, everything. Changbin, I fucking love you.”

You watched Changbin’s body go limp in Chan’s arms, tears still running freely down his cheeks. You wiped them from his cheeks, and his eyes finally opened. He looked up at you like an angel sent to save him.

“Binnie, we love you,” you told him firmly, and before your very eyes, Changbin crumbled into another mess of tears.

Chan held him tighter, and you rushed forward to join their embrace. You could feel the way Changbin's body shook under the weight of his grief.

And then he screamed. A guttural, heartbreaking cry that made you and Chan hold onto him even tighter.

The scream echoed through the apartment like a siren—raw and primal. It sent shivers up your spine and left the room in suffocating silence, broken only by the wet, uneven gasps as Changbin cried into Chan’s chest.

Chan didn’t move, arms locked around Changbin tightly as he rocked him back and forth. You didn’t move either, holding him tightly from the other side and whispering reassurances into his ears. His skin was clammy, and his body shook so badly that your heart hurt just watching.

“I’ve got you, Binnie,” you whispered. “We’re not leaving you.”

In the doorway, Minho stood frozen, with Jisung holding tightly to his hand. His eyes were red, and his jaw clenched so tightly it trembled. He looked like he wanted to say something—maybe he was reliving the same memory you were, from the night they pulled Chan out of that room.

Behind them, Felix and Hyunjin lingered in the hallway, the latter holding the doorframe with white knuckles. You weren’t sure when he’d started crying, but the tracks on his face said it had been for a while.

For a long time, none of you said anything. There was nothing to say. Just breathing. 

Eventually, the sounds of the house returned, faint and cautious. Footsteps creaked against the hallway floor. The sound of the fridge door opening, then closing. Quiet attempts to reclaim some sense of normalcy.

Changbin’s sobs started to slow. He wasn’t calm by a long shot, but each breath he took was less jagged, less panicked.

You leaned in and pressed your forehead against his temple. “Can you talk to me, baby?” you asked softly.

“I’m so tired…” Changbin croaked after a minute. His voice was wrecked—raw, hoarse, barely audible.

“I know, Binnie,” Chan whispered. 

“I wanted to talk about it,” he rasped. “I tried so many times but… I just… I just couldn’t.”

Chan’s hand moved in gentle circles over Changbin’s back. “You don’t ever have to hold that pain by yourself again. Not with us.”

You kissed his temple, slow and steady. “We’re not going anywhere.”

The three of you sat on the bedroom floor for a long time. No one tried to move. No one rushed to fix anything. 

And then, faintly, from the hallway:

“…Do you guys want me to get blankets?” It was Seungmin, his voice unusually small.

Minho turned and nodded. “Yeah. And water. Maybe a heat pack.”

Jeongin appeared with one already in hand, like he’d been preparing it silently. “I wasn’t sure if he’d want it… But I figured—”

“Please,” Chan said softly, not taking his eyes off Changbin for a second.

Felix quietly stepped inside, carrying two folded blankets and one of Changbin’s hoodies. He set them down on the edge of the bed and didn’t say a word—just knelt behind you and gently wrapped one of the blankets around your shoulders.

“Thanks, Lixie,” you murmured, voice thick with tears you hadn’t realised were still falling.

Changbin leaned harder into Chan’s chest. “Can we just… stay here? Like this?”

“For as long as you need,” you said, without hesitation.

“We’re not letting go,” Chan added, kissing the top of his head. “Ever.”

[welcome-to-maniac]

Maniac – Side Effects

Staring at the syringes of clear, almost translucent liquid in his hand, Seungmin grimaces. It’s not Felix’s drug connections that unsettle him—not that they ever have—but what needs to be done. He doesn’t want to do this. Doesn’t want to have to inject Chan and Hyunjin with more substances on top of the poison likely already flowing through their veins. But he has to, if he’s to take responsibility for everything he’s caused them. So, he exhales and forces his own guilt aside as he and Changbin get ready. Guilt makes its home on the older man too, that Seungmin can see from a mile away. The kind of guilt that reminds him of his own failings.

It never should have even come this far, yet the prospect of what needs to be done leaves an uncomfortable taste in his mouth.

“We can’t just make them drink something?” He bargains, catching up with Changbin and taking the strange… star-shaped looking pendant he’s offered.

“If it were that easy we wouldn’t be doing all of this,” is Changbin’s reminder, Holland Lop ears droopy, and jaw clenched with stress. “Liquid M-Dent has no antidote, all we can do is knock them out. With enough IV they should be fine.”

“Should be?”

Changbin’s glare burns right through him.

The drive to the location is silent, nothing so much as directions uttered between the pair. Tensions run high and Seungmin can’t bring himself to say a word, decidedly not eager to burn the temper of the man once responsible for the largest mob organisation this side of the city. It’s been years since Seungmin’s seen the man this single-minded. Instead, he keeps his attentions focused on the tablet in his hands, watching out for each intel update both his contacts and Jeongin send him. All he knows is they’re heading towards an abandoned warehouse, somewhere off by the old railway station.

Another yawn forces its way past his lips, despite his brief rest a few days prior and he can very much see the sidelong glance he gets out of the corner of his eye. Yes, he’s still tired, a few hours rest isn’t going to fix weeks of insomnia. No, he’s not going to be a liability. He’ll be fine.

“Floor it.”

And Changbin does.

Pulling up along the road close to their target location, the looming warehouse just up ahead brings back memories. The kind that Changbin doesn’t enjoy recalling; late nights spent overseeing drug production after hours and hours of classes, testing product and praying none of the raw ingredients leaked. Except now that’s exactly what he’s dealing with. And the only treatment plan he can think of are the half-baked hypotheticals. But it’s fine, because he will make this right. He will be the one to bring Chan and Hyunjin back from the madness his family’s product has caused. It’s the motivation behind his next steps, as Changbin nearly slams the car door after exiting the vehicle.

Walking closer with the younger man a step behind him, Changbin isn’t entirely sure what he’s expecting to see, but it isn’t this. Not a set of dilapidated beds, rows and rows of chains, bottles of god-knows-what and telltale signs of destructive behaviour. If this is truly where Chan and Hyunjin have been hiding out all this time, then…

Well, it actually makes sense, doesn’t it?

He’s always known Chan’s been capable of destruction, and ever since he’s known the bartender, he’s been privy to that particular kind of chaos. Of course this is how it’d manifest.

“…where are they?” He mutters, loud enough for both men to hear. Their search can’t be over, not when it hasn’t even begun. “Did we lose them already?”

“Insult my intel again and I’ll kill you.” Is Seungmin’s retort, their brief cold war still ongoing. Still, they’re the only two in the warehouse, neither hybrid sensing another presence. Like Chan and Hyunjin really have vanished. Stiff with tension, Changbin takes another tentative step, wary of his surroundings. He hasn’t felt this on edge in ages. He’s out of practice. An easy target, all things considered.

Which is how Hyunjin gets the drop on Seungmin.

Grappling against hands wrapped around his throat is decidedly not what Seungmin wants to be doing, yet Hyunjin is giving him no choice. The man’s relentless, digging a knee right into his abdomen and if this goes on any longer, Seungmin isn’t going to last. Just his luck for encouraging Hyunjin to bulk up again only weeks before this shitshow began. Changbin can’t be faring any better, right? At least not with the sounds he hears of bodies hitting against metal cabinets, feral growls that sound more wolf than man.

“Oh, no, no, darling,” Hyunjin coos above him, yanking his head back before he can see what’s going on. Finally able to breath just that little better, Seungmin can actually take a good look at the man above him. Buzzed hair, cuts and scrapes, a new eyebrow piercing and manic eyes so green they scream of M-Dent. “You just keep focusing on me, understand? That’s why you came, isn’t it? To take me away from here?”

What?

“The fuck are you—” Seungmin grits out, digging his nails into Hyunjin’s shoulder in an exhausted attempt to pull the man off. But the man doesn’t budge, instead lifting and slamming his back down hard against the ground. The wind’s knocked out of him, a blooming ache spreading through his body. He’s dizzy, still struggling to actually breathe and Hyunjin…revels in it? No matter the abject confusion on his face, Seungmin can’t let himself be incapacitated like this, not when he has a job to do. So, he struggles. Fights back like this isn’t the man he’s known for years.

Each breath gets harder.

And harder.

Until the adrenaline hits.

With a sharp buck of his hips and a well-timed punch to the ribs, Seungmin finally has Hyunjin off of him, the unhinged ferret hybrid stumbling back with a groan. His heart fractures at the sight, but he can’t afford to falter now. He needs to do this.

Broken lower rib. Sprained ankle. Roughly, what, three-inch gash across his left arm? Changbin knows he’s going to be in a world of pain once this is over and his adrenaline fades, but Chan isn’t giving him a break. In fact, the older man looks like he’s enjoying it, smiling just a little too wide for comfort. He lands a punch, then a swift knee to Chan’s midriff, taking the opportunity to pin the older man against the closest pillar. It’s a battle all on its own trying to wrestle Chan’s arms behind his back, and Changbin almost wishes he was a different kind of hybrid right now. The more intimidating kind.

“Changbin-ah…” Chan growls, “stop being a fucking brat and let me go!”

“Tough shit. You need this.”

“Like hell I do!” Rolling his eyes, Changbin ignores the drug-induced rage in Chan’s gaze and frees a hand from his grip on the older man. He still needs to grab the damn vial after all. Reaching into his pocket and pulling the syringe out, it’s nearly knocked straight out of his hand when Chan throws his head back, hitting Changbin square in the face.

“Fuck!” Blood drips down Changbin’s face.

That’s a broken nose for sure. He’s had it.

Wiping the blood off his face and spitting out whatever’s in his mouth, Changbin kicks directly at Chan’s legs, forcing the older man to his knees and yanking his head back. He can apologise for manhandling his hyung later. Blood rushes in his ears as he sticks the syringe in Chan’s neck, forcing the liquid into the man’s system and tightening his grip when the wolf hybrid tries to fight back.

Less than a minute and they’ll be out cold, Felix had said, and as Changbin counts the seconds, the statement proves true. Chan slumps in his hold, entirely unconscious and dead weight.

Finally able to look over to where Seungmin had been wrestling with Hyunjin, Changbin’s able to breathe a sigh of relief when the younger man nods in his direction, leaning against a barrel for support. He’s okay.

Everyone’s okay. Mostly.

“Hyung?” Seungmin breathes out, and Changbin blearily looks over, a hand over his broken nose. “…how the fuck are we supposed to take them back?”

And that’s the straw that breaks his back.

He laughs. Quiet, disbelieving chuckles that devolve into near-hysterical laughter, the realisation at what the two of them have done over the last few hours beginning to set in. How are they supposed to drag two dead-weights home? Just where are they supposed to get the IV treatments done?

The blinding beam of headlights cut the mental breakdown short. Squinting at the figure that approaches, Changbin’s not the only one relieved when Minho steps forward, the gruff bartender examining the scene at hand and sighing. Changbin doesn’t even bother to question how his hyung got here, merely following along as Minho enlists Seungmin’s help in moving the knocked-out hybrids to the backseat of the SUV.

His offers of help are shut down, not with those injuries you’re not, so he relegate himself to sitting in the passenger seat, exhausted and in far too much pain for one night.

“Get some sleep you two,” Minho says, and Changbin catches the way he looks at his rearview mirror. “And you, I’ll set that when we get home, you’ll need it iced.”

Right.

“I’m just glad this is over with.”

“…so am I, Bin-ah.”

[sp4ceboo]

Taking Care of You When You're Sick: SKZ OT8 x Reader

Bang Chan:

• Mama Chan mode activated

• Will give you random supplements and vitamins to make sure your body has all it needs to fight whatever you have, and happily sits by your bed to sing to you or talk to you or just sit there if you need him

• Makes you food and hovers around you; he has this weird ability to suddenly appear when you need anything

• You'll have to fight him if you want to get up, because he'll be right there at your bedside claiming you need to sleep and tucking your blanket in

Lee Know:

• When he comes home to see you bundled in blankets, your sad face peeking out of the top, he chuckles and teases you, laughing when you pout

• You know he cares, though, because a little later, he arrives in your room with Soonie, Doongie and Dori, who curl up in the blankets with you like three purring hot water bottles

• He'll kiss your forehead and come back a little later with a bowl of soup

• You happily drink it up and he'll lie down beside you, like a fourth hot water bottle

Seo Changbin:

• Internally struggles because he wants to kiss you and cuddle the sad pout of your face, but also highkey doesn't want to get sick

• Ends up giving in and absolutely coddles you, making sure he's ready to help whenever you want something, but also complains because he wants to make sure you're appreciating him (lol)

• Falls alseep at some point because he's so exhausted he passes out on the bed next to you, then freaks out once he's woken up because you're making yourself some instant noodles in the kitchen, and that's his job

• More sad that he couldn't be your knight in shining armour than that your sick, so you have to comfort him and tell him he looked too cute sleeping to wake him up

Hwang Hyunjin:

• Asks you how you're feeling every five minutes

• Pampers the shit out of you, piling every single blanket in the house on top of you, then cuddles you, peppering kisses all over your face

• Occasionally randomly wails, and when you ask him why, he says that it's because his poor baby is sick

• Is attached to your hip, so when he gets sick it's no surprise to anyone - but by then, you're better, so you can look after him youself

Han Jisung:

• Does his best to make you feel better, first showering you with medicine and food, then showering you with jokes to put a wobbly smile on your face

• Wraps you in a blanket burrito and does anything you want him to, whether it means taking your snotty tissues to the bin or running around/digging through the kitchen cupboards to find that particular food you're craving

• Watches movies with you, cuddles you and probably gets sick but powers through it to make sure that you recover quickly

• Buys your favourite foods, and has a weird knack for knowing if you want something cool and soothing or something crunchy for your sore throat

Lee Felix:

• Cooks so much food, and freezes it so that all you need to do is warm it up if he can't be with you

• Generally just a wonderful ball of sunshine, has the ability to make you smile about nothing, and is an actual angel 

• Is so attentive - if he feels out of his depth, he won't hesitate to call his mom, asking if she has any tips to help you get better or clear your blocked nose

• Sings you to sleep, and if that isn't the most soothing thing ever, you don't know what is

Kim Seungmin:

• Is actually really good at looking after sick people without getting their illness

• Which means less cuddles but a faster recovery

• Knows random hacks for soothing headaches or curing blocked noses, and knows which foods will help get rid of your sore throat and which ones will make it worse

• Definitely has one of those aroma stream things, and puts it on with some oils that will clear a blocked nose and headache, so your room smells amazing and you feel better almost immediately 

Yang Jeongin:

• Definitely calls Chan, asking him what to do, and takes detailed notes so that once he takes care of you, it's amazing

• Panics but then realises that it won't help, so un-panics

• Is really cute for no reason, like he'll just be giving you some food he's made you and he'll have the most adorable pout

• Actually becomes a pro at taking care of you while you're sick 

[thekentraptor]

This has been weighing on me and I saw so few other people saying it that I thought I was taking crazy pills. But I want to speak my mind and show my solidarity with the other intelligent, attractive people on here who agree with me:

Stray Kids' Met Gala outfits were bad. Particularly the jackets. The boys looked gorgeous because *they* are gorgeous and charismatic and know how to carry themselves. But the outfits were not only Boring, a sin for this particular event, the actual fit of the clothing was atrocious.

Like what is going on with the sleeves? (they're too tight and the wrong length, to start). Look at that enormous pucker where Hyunjin's sleeve meets the chest. And those aren't just movement wrinkles in Han's shoulder, those are deep set-in creases.

These are both 10/10 pretty boys, holy moly. I have less than zero beef with the hair and makeup team. But Han's jacket has the same kind of pucker that Hyunjin's does, and those creases from the event shot above are here too, meaning they were visible in the fitting room and nobody did anything about them before sending the boys out into the world. And Chan's sleeve looks like a tornado which, I don't think I need to explain why that's wrong.

HOW is Changbin's jacket too tight in the chest and shoulders when it doesn't even close?? And let's just dress The Hwang Hyunjin in a slunchy-lookin smoking jacket, I guess that's fine.

Felix's sleeves are also a mess, and I don't even know where to START with Seungmin.

Meanwhile, these?

Gorgeous. Stunning. Exquisite. A bit casual for the Met but my GOD they look good. I even like the safety pins on Changbin's shirt - if they'd done something like that intentionally it might have been a fun approach to the "fleeting beauty" theme.

In conclusion, SKZ deserved better and I'm mad about it. They deserved to be dressed by a more interesting, creative fashion house to begin with, but that's another issue. I'm one million percent sure that their measurements are kept track of at JYP and it's hard to believe that they weren't sent over before the boys even got to America, so the team SHOULD have been able to cook up jackets that fit at least approximately right. If I were one of the tailors in those behind the scenes shots I would go into Witness fucking Protection because this is embarrassing.

[sonneka]

【Time to fight】 a Stray Kids Gen Fic

Well, I wrote a little oneshot inspired by this prompt and this clip in particular! Perfect excuse to write something for Genuary!

It's a Noeasy AU where Innie is the last one standing against the Sound Monster, as the healer of the group.

AO3 link

Time to fight

For a couple of seconds, Jeongin was unable to move. Stunned, head annoyingly buzzing, his eyes darted to all the possible directions inside the closed space of the parking lot. All his friends were on the ground, as unmoving as him. What was he supposed to do now? 

The sound monster stayed there, it almost seemed like it was laughing at him for his mistakes. How was he not able to save his brothers? Did he just let them all die ? 

No, they weren't dead...  

Were they? 

His vision became blurry as tears started to emerge from his eyes, but crying wouldn't make his friends get up. He blinked his tears away, with only one thought in mind: fighting. 

The biggest mistake his friends could have ever made was keeping him almost outside of every fight. Somehow Jeongin felt that he was good, but no better than his seven brothers. He was fast, but couldn't compare to Felix or Hyunjin in agility; he was clever, but couldn't come up with better strategies than Seungmin or better equipment than the one made by Han; he knew he had his own strength, but no one was stronger than Changbin, he had charisma, but Chan's words were the ones everyone followed; he could focus, but Minho's aim was the best one... 

They were simply, cut short, better than him in every single aspect. Jeongin couldn't see it any other way. 

He was supposed to be the support, the one that protects from behind, but since they never had such a bad fight... 

Seems he came too late to fulfill his function. 

The only thing he remembered clear from the fight, the only thing that snapped him to the reality he was in right now, was Felix shouting at him, since it was something that never actually happened before: 

"Innie, what the fuck ... Heal! Do something!"

The blond's nose bleeding, his big eyes showing an anger nobody have surely witnessed before arising from him... It gave Jeongin chills down his spine, it broke him. That was what made him realize he actually had to do something... or else it was going to be their last fight.

He couldn't just stay there and watch how they all died. 

It was his first and last, only and ultimate, chance to show them all he could do something, that he could actually fight back. 

And he did. Or tried to. 

Fast, he grabbed the pistols Minho and Han left on the ground, moved swiftly past the attacks of the monster, just like Hyunjin and Felix would have done, and shot to the head. It was hopeless, a barrier in front of the monster's head covered his attack. Jeongin cursed, but that didn't make him stop. 

Moved to the side, tried to strike the monster's left side. Another shield blocked it and Minho's gun ran out of bullets. Before a blaze attack from the monster hit him, he managed to jump. It was not a jump as high as the ones Chan could do, but it was enough to avoid the attack. The only dangerous thing about jumping was his belt moving too much, since he had to be cautious when it came to its content…. 

His belt had a considerable amount of potions in bottles surrounding his waist. Most of them were medicine that would work for healing his friends, but there were some bottles which its content was, simply put, suspicious. He knew he couldn't one hundred percent trust in that kind of stuff if both Seungmin and Felix had worked together in the creating of those mixes, with their very own recipes... 

However, the situation seemed perfect to try those weird mixes out, since the healing potions at the moment were kind of useless… He couldn’t cover his brothers’ wounds if the only one left fighting was him. If only he’d been more careful before… 

Running, with his eyesight fixed on the monster, he noticed something. When it shot a blaze, his barrier didn't work, it seemed it could only do one thing at a time. Once the second pistol ran out of bullets, he swayed to one side, grabbed two of the suspicious potions and threw them together towards the monster's front. An agonizing sound made way to his ears, and he wasn't too fast to grab his earphones that dropped to the ground after the soundwave impact, so Jeongin was stunned and crashed into a wall. 

It all went black for an instant. 

I wanna go home. He thought. 

Feeling dizzy still, slowly he came back to his senses. Just before another blaze hit him, he got to roll on the ground to grab back his earphones, so he no longer had to feel so dizzy. His back hurt, worst his knees and elbows, but while his brothers were still on the floor he couldn't stop fighting. 

He wanted to go home, but wouldn't go home alone. 

Quickly, avoiding more blazes, he came across Changbin's side and managed to grab his bat, then rushed to Minho's side once again and grabbed his shield. At first, his only thought was to attack close, just like the soldier he, in fact, wasn't... 

Of course, since he wasn't a soldier at all, he just threw the bat towards the monster, whilst he avoided a blaze with the shield in the other hand. And this time around, all the bottles in his waist (the ones he wasn't sure that were trustworthy to cure his fallen friends) were thrown away together towards the vulnerable monster.  

Jeongin then fell to the ground, but managed to cover his earphones with his hands so they wouldn't fall again, since another agonizing sound made its way in wave towards him. He was gripped to the ground with a strength he didn't know he had, then closed his eyes and prayed it was all over, because it was the only thing left to do. There were no more suspicious bottles in his waist left, so no more tricks could be played. He gulped hard, trying his best not to cry, when all of a sudden he felt nothing. 

No, better than nothing. 

Silence. 

It all went silent. The infurating sound was gone, it felt like a videogame when the boss fight is over... 

Wait.  

He then dared to open his eyes, and it certainly hurt. His vision was blurry and itched. A cloud of gas corrupted the place, Jeongin instantly knew that all the chemicals inside the bottles mixed together were to blame. It got too dangerous, not only for the sound monster... but also for all of them... 

Tears of pain started to come out his eyes, the dizzy feeling couldn't let him think of a way to save them all, this time even counting himself. His body trembled, feeling heavy and numb, but this time his grip on the ground was weak. 

His narrowed and flooded eyes darted towards the entrance door, it was the only way out, the only way towards fresh air. It was weird, a blue flame lighted the path, a path he wouldn't be able to reach at all. Crawled towards the flame, but it all started fading into black. 

Was it all over? For all of them? 

Did it end up being all his fault? 

The last thing he saw was the blue flame ignite, and blast, when a lightning reached it. And the thunder that came afterwards flooded his ears and mind. It felt like the thunder blew him away, and when it did... 

Where was he? Why was he inside of a fridge? 

What the...  

"Innie!" It was Chan's voice. "We were about to leave! You know, there was an emergency call and— Wait. Are you alright?" 

Was this... before? After? Jeongin just kept on blinking, not knowing how, when or where he was at all. Even so, he couldn't help smiling when he saw his leader, his brother, in front of him. Without thinking it twice, he just got up and hugged him, knowing well it was so unlike of him to do something like that. He didn't care, finally it all felt right for once. 

"Don't worry, hyung." Jeongin stepped back, still smiling. "I know what to do! Trust me." 

Chan raised an eyebrow but the other's smile made him carelessly laugh, it certainly was a relief.  

"Well... let's go then! Everyone else is waiting to kick the Sound Monster's ass once and for all." 

"And I know we will!" Jeongin replied. 

They'd defeat it this time. He had his trustworthy bottles by his side, now knowing he had to be careful with the suspicious ones, and this time wouldn't let his brothers fall in the first place. As for the blue flame... 

Well, that was surely something for later.

[chevelleneech]

My hangup about Chanlix is that I don't understand why they didn't room together if Minsung were allowed to?? Like in the current dorm arrangement if they're hooking up they'd have to constantly sexile Seungmin or Jeongin and it makes no sense to me to do that, I just don't get it?? I think chanlix have tension but there's probably more going on like they're not actually acting on it for some reason they act like they wanna be together but they're not... Can't settle this in my mind I don't know. If it was the company trying to hide their relationship then why are minsung living together they're obviously dating

I had the same question, but again, I think Chan and Felix are an entirely different situation from Minho and Jisung. Which of course could be totally wrong on my end, but I think Chan being the leader of SKZ and being three years older than Felix likely played a big part in them not getting together for a while.

My theory on their relationship is that they are very much so aware that they have feelings for each other, have or want to hook up, and probably get irritable when there’s someone else in the picture. However, that doesn’t stop them from being what I think, is obviously in love. It’s why I’m intrigued by how things will play out once the others enlist.

I don’t think we’ll get any confirmations or anything, but how long can they pretend the two of them aren’t best friends who have the tension they have, before it gets ridiculous? They work together in Seoul, and their families are close in Sydney. So there’s no real way to play it as if they just happen to not be seeing each other.

As for why they don’t live together? I don’t know. Again, I think it’s possibly because they aren’t a couple-couple, potentially because of both of their reservations, but at the end of the day I do not know. At the very least, I genuinely believe they want to be together and have dabbled in being so, but ultimately their relationship status in my head is: Complicated. I think they flirt and tease and taunt each other all day, but if I had to decide if they are 100% dating? I can’t, lol.

Lastly, if they are together, I can extend my theory to say they may have chosen not to room together since Minsung are, as well as Hyunjin and Changbin. Yes, it’s mainly fandom knowledge and jokes that those two pairings are “couples”, but nothing is impossible, right? So it’s at least a reasonable possibility that as the leader, Chan decided he wouldn’t room with his boyfriend just because then it could come across as too obvious. I don’t particularly lean toward this idea, but who knows.

Oh, actual last thing. I may be in the minority here, but I don’t think idol companies try all that hard to hide inner band relationships. At least not these days, and maybe that’s naïve of me to think, but I think skinships and the idea that these idols are queer is a huge selling point. I think companies would rather sell “fake” queerness as much as they can, and to do that they have to allow idols to present themselves as queer as they may want to be, without fully crossing the “I’m not straight!” line. Which is a pretty thin line if you look hard enough at some idols, but I think as long as they’re not doing a magazine spread in which they say the exact words, companies are willing to turn a semi-blind eye.

Meaning, Minsung in particular seems “safe”, because they’re not Out. Chanlix can be whatever they are, because they’re not Out. Even though there’s so much to both pairings that comes across as obvious romantic/physical attraction, so long as none of them say, “I like men and I’m not joking.” the masses will continue to not take anything pointing to them being queer, seriously. Which means there isn’t really anything to hide.