his-angell

[his-angell]

"breathe for me." (l.mh)

plot; Stray Kids was doing an interview, promoting their new album. A loud noise causes Y/ns anxiety to spike. She does her best to keep calm, but she was showing signs of a panic attack coming on. Minho took notice immediately. He did his best to reassure her till the cameras shut off. The moment they did, he was quick to help calm her down through a panic attack.

paring; fem!9th!member!reader x BestFriend!Lee Minho

genre; angst, comfort

word count; 2.0k

warnings; anxiety, unhealthy habits (scratching, biting/picking lips, pinking skin, holding breath), dissociation, descriptive panic attack, 9th member reader, third person

request?; no

The interview was going fine. In fact, it was going rather smooth. Too smooth. (y/n) was always nervous during interviews, but this one seemed to tweak her in the wrong way. She had been picking at her fingers, one of the first tells that she was nervous. She didn't really like this interviewer. They were getting oddly personal. She was sure they didn't mean to, but something about them just threw her off.

Minho took a deep breath. He gently nudged her ankle with his foot, trying to get her to stop picking. She kinda just gave a closed lipped smile to him and looked back forward. She hadn't gotten the memo.. She continued to pick at her fingertips.

"So, (y/n)! How did you like this new concept? You seemed to really enjoy the outfits this comeback." The man read from his card before placing it his lap. (y/n) gave a small smile, nodding. "I loved this new concept! I think it brought a-" She was cut off as a loud crash interrupted her. She was quick to cover her ears.

Small pants shook her body as she looked down. One of the studio lights had fallen over. The other members were startled, but (y/n) was thrown off completely. Minho was quick to gently place a hand on her knee, trying to comfort her the best he could. He looked up to the staff, about to ask for a break, but they were told to keep going with the interview. They had fixed the light, and readjusted the cameras so they could continue.

(y/n) let out a shaky breath as she looked back up. Luckily, her question was sort of glanced over now. The focus was moved to Felix, who beamed as he spoke about the fun filming process. (y/n) was fidgeting worse than she had been before. She was scratching at the back of her hand. She was chewing at her lip. Her eyes flickered back and forth between her members and the staff. She just wanted to be done already. She was about to snap.

Minho could tell. He knew that she had issues with interviews in the first place, but the loud noise did not help. He could see it. In the way she rocked back and forth, or the way she scratched and bit at her skin. He was trying to get her to stop the best he could without drawing attention to her.

It felt like ages before the interview finally ended. (y/n) had never gotten up faster. She didn't even allow staff to take off her mic. She rushed away from the others and into a secluded part of the studio. She couldn't breathe. She was hot. Her vision was growing fuzzy. She crouched down, hugging her head to her knees as she tried to calm down. "Not now.. Not here.." She trembled quietly to herself.

Minho tried to rush after her but was stopped by staff. "I have to help her," He tried, but he was waved off. "She just needs air. I need your equipment." The staff said, moving behind him to start unhooking the microphone from his belt. Minho shrugged him off. "You can get it in a second! There's others you can tend to!" He said harshly, rushing over to where he saw (y/n) rush off too.

Minho crouched down to her, gently pulling her hands away from her head. He hated the way she would always tug at her beautiful hair.. He held her wrists in one hand and gently grabbed her chin with the other. "(y/n), I need you to look at me." He said. He already knew what was happening. The first few times this happened, he was clueless on what to do. But after a few times, he learned what she needed and what she didn't. He knew how to take care of her, and he would in every way he could.

(y/n) slowly looked up. her eyes were fuzzy, her head was heavy. her lips were numb from hyperventilating. "Min-Min- I ca-can't brea-breathe!" She sobbed. She tugged her hands away from his grip and gripped onto her chest, as if trying to pull away the burning that consumed her lungs. "It hurts!" She cried. She was tugging at her top, the long sleeve no help to her right now.

Minho took a deep breath, glancing back to where the other members were. He noticed a few of them looking over with concerning glances. He made a motion for drinking, hoping they would get the hint and bring him water. He turned back to (y/n), gently grabbing her hands again. "I need you to breathe with me, okay?" He tried. The woman shook her head. "I can't! It-It's- I'm too hot-!" She sobbed.

Minho shook his head. He hated being stern with her, but he knew that that's what she needed right now. "(y/n), yes you can. In, hold it, out. In, hold it, out." He said. "Do it with me, okay?" He nodded, slowly starting to do the breathing with her. (y/n) stared at him through her teary eyes. She again tried tugging her hands away, but this time, Minho knew better and held them slightly tighter. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. Jisung rushed over with two bottles of water. Minho thanked him quietly, motioning for him to set them down.

Jisung did as he was instructed. "Can I help at all?" He mumbled quietly. (y/n) hung her head low, holding her breath. She trusted the others, sure, but not enough to be this close to her while shes like this. She trusted Minho with this stuff only. She held her breath in attempts to try and act like she was calm. Minho was quick to shake his head. "No, sorry, Ji." He mumbled. Jisung waved a gentle hand before he walked away quickly. (y/n) gasped for air, sobbing out.

She yanked her hands away and started scratching at her thighs. "Minho- I-I can't do-do this-" She shook her head, refusing to make eye contact with him. Minho took a deep breath. He figure that this was one of her times where she didn't wanna be touched. He nodded a little. "Yes, you can, jagi." He whispered. "I need you to stop scratching." He said sternly. "Sit on your hands, remember?" He said, slipping his own hands bellow his thighs and holding them down.

(y/n) looked at him nervously. She stared at his hands bellow his thighs. She clenched her jaw. She slowly moved to sit on top of her hands. She sobbed out, the uncomfortable feeling of needing to do something with her hands unbearable. "You're doing so good, jagi. Now keep breathing for me." Minho said, starting her with a few breaths. While she breathed, he moved to open one of the water bottles. He held it forward, helping her drink. She hummed once she was done, and he pulled the water away.

(y/n)'s body still trembled. Tears were dried to her cheeks, her makeup smeared and ruined. Her body was still hot and tingly. Now was just the uncomfortable stage.. Cooling down after working herself up. She looked at Minho with timid eyes. "It hurts," She whimpered. Minho nodded softly. "I know, I know." He hushed. He made no move to touch her yet, in case she wasn't ready.

After a few minutes she was. She slowly uncurled from herself and hid herself in Minhos chest. Minho wrapped his arms around her and gently rubbed her back. "You did so good, jagiya." He praised quietly. (y/n) closed her eyes, shaking her head softly. "I was so.. So dramatic." She hiccupped. She had those small hiccups you get after working yourself up so much. She held her hands tightly together, trying to keep from ringing her fingers together. She let out a shaky breath.

Minho hummed and shook his head. "You weren't dramatic at all, (y/n)." He said. "You know better than to say stuff like that after you have a moment like that." He added. He was trying to get her to be better about not criticizing herself after having a panic attack or anything of the sorts. He gently moved to look at her. "Can we talk about what set you off?" He asked. "Can we get home first?" The woman asked quietly. Minho nodded. "Of course. Lets get your equipment off and lets get you home." He said, kissing her head softly.

So thats what they did. He helped her over to the staff, helping keep her stable, since her legs were still jelly. He helped get her makeup off, having stolen a few makeup wipes from the stylists. He gathered his stuff as well as hers, carrying it out to the cars that would be taking them home. (y/n) ended up falling asleep against the window. Minho let her sleep, knowing how exhausted she got.

Once they got to the dorms, he woke her gently, helping her out of the car and walking with her up to the dorms, which luckily they shared. She was so tired. She trudged to bed after kicking off her shoes. She had changed into some comfortable clothes, sitting slumped in her bed. She was always so tired and done after a panic attack. It took so much out of her, all she wanted to do was sink into her bed and never wake up.

Minho had told her to give him a second while he made her tea and changed his clothes. He at least got his clothes changed.. By time he went in to check on her to see what tea she wanted, she was falling asleep sitting up. He sighed. He was glad he didn't turn the kettle on.. He went around, turning off the lights before heading to her room. "Jagiya, hey," He gently rubbed her shoulder.

(y/n) jumped a little bit, whining as she looked up at Minho. She frowned and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry.. I was trying not to fall asleep.." She grumbled. She yawned softly, covering her mouth. "You're okay, (y/n). I know you're tired." Minho said. "Before you sleep though.. I do wanna talk about what set you off today." He took a deep breath, sitting next to her. The woman whined and covered her face with the paws of her hoodie sleeves. "I don't want to! I'm tired, and it was stupid!" She whined into her hands.

Minho pried her hands away from her face and held them gently. "You know you'll feel better if you talk about it." He said with a small shrug. She squinted at him, knowing that he was right. She sighed. "I've just been off all month.. There were too many people in that studio. it was cramped." She shrugged. "Then the freaking light, it pushed me over the edge. I really thought I was gonna be able to go a day without freaking otu, Min." She frowned, looking down. Minho hummed. "But that doesn't mean theres not other days you can't beat, jagiya." He said, giving her a small smile.

"This is just one bad day. Tomorrow will be better." He gently tucked her messy hair behind her ear. "Its okay to have a bad day." He said softly. (y/n) slowly nodded. She let out a shaky breath. "Thanks, Min." She said quietly. Another yawn slipped past her lips. "Will you sleep with me tonight?" She asked sheepishly. Minho chuckled softly. "You mean like I have been for the past week?" He teased. (y/n) rolled her eyes jokingly, a small smile cracking her lips. "Yes, like you have for the past week." She giggled softly.

Minho hummed and nodded softly. "Yeah, sure, jagi," He chuckled. He laid down, gently getting under her blankets and opening them for her. (y/n) cuddled under the sheets, cuddling into Minhos chest. "Thank you, Min." She whispered. "Mm, no need to thank me." Minho said as he reached over to turn her lamp off. "I love you.." She mumbled sleepily. Minho chuckled softly and kissed her head. "I love you too, jagi." He yawned as he wrapped his arms around her, soon falling asleep after her.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids comfort #stray kids angst #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz comfort #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #stray kids lee minho #skz minho #skz lee know #skz lee minho #lee know fluff #lee know comfort #lee know angst #lee know #lee minho #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x 9th member #stray kids 9th member #stray kids imagines

[his-angell]

"It's okay not to be okay." (p.sh)

plot; (y/n) was going through it. Work was stressing her to no end. She couldn't function properly anymore. Thankfully, Seonghwa was there to help get her head back in the right spot.

paring; Park Seonghwa x fem!reader

genre; comfort, angst?

word count; 1.9k

warnings; cursing, reader drops a glass, crying, yelling (not arguing), pet names, reader pulls at her hair, established relationships, 3rd person,

request?; no

(y/n) dropped everything at the door when she got into the apartment. Work was nothing but shit. The same thing it was every day. Sitting at a desk, checking people in and out, in and out. It got tiring. She kicked everything to the side of the walkway so Seonghwa could get in without tripping.

She went to their shared bedroom and flopped onto the bed. She buried her head into her pillow and screamed into it. A scream turned into choked sobs. She kicked her feet and threw a tantrum on the bed, messing up the sheets. She groaned as the clothes she wore only seemed to irritate her more. She quickly undressed, throwing on one of her boyfriends plain white shirts and a pair of shorts. She couldn't stop crying after she started..

She went to the bathroom, coughing from how hard she was crying. She paused to stare at herself in the mirror. Her lip trembled. Mascara stained her cheeks, her lipstick had smudged. She whined before throwing her hair up and washing her face, rather aggressively might I add... She dried her face and sniffled. She flicked the light off and went to the kitchen. She was still crying, but she wasn't as loud anymore. That was until..

She reached up to grab a glass, her vision blurry from tears. She didn't have a proper grip on it. She jumped as she dropped it on the ground. She stared at the shattered glass, throwing her head back. She sat on the floor, a bit away from the pile and hugged her knees. "Shit!" She cried, yanking at her hair.

She was so in her own bubble she hadn't heard Seonghwa come in. The man entered and was immediately putting his stuff down and slipping on his slides to rush to his lovers aid. "Baby! Baby, hey! What happened?" He gently grabbed her hands, prying her fingers away from her hair. He tilted her head up, trying to catch her gaze. (y/n) pushed his hand away. "Go away!" She yelled. "I don't need your help!" She sobbed.

She got defensive when she was upset. She hated being babied and treated like she was fragile. Even if thats what she needed, she didn't want it. Seonghwa nodded softly and pulled his hands away. "Okay, okay. But I need you to tell me what happened, (y/n)." He said, not pulling his gaze from her. He caught on to her tendency a few months after they started dating. He understood and gave her space, but he always kept a watchful eye on her.

"I fucking dropped a glass, what do you think happened?" She snapped at him. Seonghwa hummed, glancing at the pile. "Okay, you dropped a glass. Is that what caused you to break down, or was it something else?" The man tilted his head. "Why can't you just leave me alone!" She shot off the floor and went to storm out of the kitchen.

Seonghwa shot up faster and grabbed her waist. "Don't. You don't have your slides on. You'll get glass in your feet." He picked her up and stepped over the glass, setting her down far enough away from the glass. (y/n) tensed up, the feeling of his hands making her hot. She was overstimulated. She was winding herself up more than necessary. She flapped her hands. "I said go away! You're really starting to piss me off, Seonghwa." She grumbled.

Seonghwa nodded. "I'm sure I am. But until you tell me what's wrong, i'm not leaving." He said. He didn't like pushing her to talk. But he knew that she was gonna be angry until whatever was bothering her came out. It always took a little pushing for her to finally open up. He didn't sheer away under the glare that was shot at him. "You irritate me to no end." She rolled her eyes. Seonghwa hummed quietly and nodded. It didn't bother him, because he knew she didn't mean it. She was just upset.

"I- Everything shit, alright?" (y/n) spit out. "Work it the same thing every day! My boss always telling me i'm doing something wrong! Costumers always yelling at me for no reason at all!" She wiped her face angrily. "This guy the other way said what I was wearing looked 'whoreish'! Whoreish?! What does that even mean?!" She laughed in disbelief. She put her head in her hands and sobbed quietly. "I'm so stressed, Hwa, I can't handle it anymore." She cried.

Seonghwa listened to everything she said. Nodding softly so she knew he was listening. He walked over to her and gently hugged her. He placed a kiss on her head. "It's okay." He said softly. (y/n) quickly wrapped her arms around him. She sobbed into his chest. Seonghwa rubbed her back.

After a few moments of standing there, he pulled away to cup her cheeks. He gently swiped away her tears with his thumbs. "It's okay not to be okay, you know that?" He said softly. "It's okay to be stressed, and upset, and angry. You just can't ball it up, understand?" He said. She nodded a bit. "I know it's hard talking, so don't talk. Write it in your journal, paint it, draw it. Anything. But don't bottle it up, because when it spills over, it stresses you out even more." He stroked her cheeks gently with his thumbs.

He pursed his lips. He took a deep breath. "I think.. You should quit that job. I can support us just fine." He said. Her eyes widened. She blinked at him. "No- No! I can't let you do that! You know I can't let you do that." She laughed in disbelief that he would even try and run that past her. "Okay, then I'll be able to support us while you find a new job. That you like!" He pointed a bit. "And with a better boss. I don't need you in a workplace that stresses you out. Okay?" He said softly. She sighed and nodded a little. "Okay. I.." She trailed off as she looked back down.

After a moment she finally looked back up at him with glossy eyes. Her lip trembled. "I'm sorry." Her voice shook. Seonghwa shook his head. "Nuh-Uh, none of that." He said, swiping away her tears once more. "It's okay not to be okay, (y/n)." He repeated. "I wanna hear you say it." He said. She furrowed her eyebrows. She shook her head a bit. "I can't.." She whispered. "But you can." Seonghwa hummed.

(y/n) closed her eyes before sighing quietly. "I.. It's okay not to be okay." She said. Seonghwa smiled softly. He gently poked her sides a bit. "Thats my girl." He said softly. She squealed lightly, giggling as his fingers tickled her sides. "Hwa stop!" She slapped his chest gently. Seonghwa chuckled and took his hands away. (y/n) took them and kissed his finger pads. "Thank you." She whispered. "Nothing to thank me for, doll." He hushed. "Yes, there is." She looked up at him, seriousness in her eyes.

"Thank you for still loving me, even after I have moments like these." She whispered, almost ashamed of her breakdown. Seonghwa tutted softly. "You expect me to just stop loving you?" He tilted his head at her. "You're my forever, (y/n). Even if that means comforting you when you don't feel your best." He kissed her forehead. "I love you, princess." He hushed against her skin. "I love you too, Hwa." (y/n) took a deep breath and leaned up to peck his lips.

She pulled away and peaked behind him. She frowned. "I-I'll clean that up.." She messed with his hoodie gently. Seonghwa shook his head. "No, you're not." He poked her nose gently. "You are gonna go wash up. Then you're get blankets, and pillows, and find a movie for us to watch." He grinned softly. Her eyes lit up. "Movie night?" She asked. He nodded. She smiled brightly and kissed him. She pulled away after a few moments. "Thank you. You're the best boyfriend ever." She moved to kiss his cheek. Seonghwa chuckled softly as she rushed to go wash up and get blankets and pillows.

After picking up the glass, making tea, gathering snacks, and Seonghwa changing into his pajamas, they cuddled on the couch. They didn't really watch the movie, it was mostly commentating the whole thing, pointing out how silly the acting was. Seonghwa was in the middle of explaining the love triangle that (y/n) said she didn't understand, when he heard soft snores. He paused and looked down. The bag of candies she had was slipping out of her hand. Her eyes were shut, and her breathing was evened out. He smiled and gently grabbed the bag of candies, setting them on the coffee table.

He didn't want to disturb her, but he knew they would both wake up with sore backs if they slept on the couch. He gently pushed her up enough so he could stand. He leaned over and picked her up, hushing her as she whined. He carried her to bed and tucked her in before getting in on his side. "I love you, princess." He whispered, kissing her temple and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Mm.. Love you.." (y/n) mumbled, half asleep. Seonghwa chuckled and closed his eyes, matching up his breathing with hers. It didn't take long for him to drift off..

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez comfort #ateez park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa ateez #seonghwa angst #ateez x reader #ateez hurt/comfort #ateez fic #ateez imagines #open requests

[his-angell]

worthy of my love. (c.bc)

plot; Chan loves you. He loves you more than anything in the world. During a late night pillow talk, he gushes about how much he loves you. But he also slips up with an admission that he feels he isn't worthy to have something as precious as your love.

paring; Christopher Bahng x fem!reader

genre; slight angst, fluff, comfort

word count; 1.0k

warnings; established relationship, self doubt, pet names, kissing, 3rd person

request; no

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Chan whined as he flopped down onto the bed. (y/n) giggled, already cuddled up in the fluffy white sheets. “This is my favorite part of the day.” Chan sighed. “Oh yeah? How come?” (y/n) raised an eyebrow at him. “I get to relax after a long day and cuddle with the love of my life.” Chan smiled as he crawled up the bed and got under the covers. 

It was about three in the morning. Chan had gotten home from the studio around one. (y/n) had made him food and he showered. They ate and watched an episode of their show and now they were settling into bed. Chan grabbed her by the waist and gently yanked her closer, making her squeal a bit and giggle. 

(y/n) cuddled her head into his warm chest as she closed her eyes. She threw her leg over his waist. “I have to admit, this is my favorite part of the day too..” She whispered. She was so comfortable in his arms. He held her close, his head resting back on the pillows. He hummed softly. He pursed his lips and looked down at her. 

He used his free hand to gently comb her hair from her face. “I’m so in love with you, (y/n).” He whispered. He admired her face. She looked up at him with a smile. “And i’m in love with you too, Chan.” She giggled. Chan swallowed nervously. “I don’t think you know how much I appreciate you.” He whispered. 

The woman shook her head a bit. “No, I know, love, trust me.” She snickered. But Chan wasn’t laughing.. She faltered a bit. “What's wrong, baby?” She sat up slightly. Chan looked at her with sad eyes. He let out a shaky breath. “I should be here for you more.” He said. (y/n) shook her head again. “You’re here all the time, though.” She said. 

Chan sighed, sitting up and leaning his head on the headframe. “No, i’m not (y/n).. I’m working all the time. I barely ever have time for you.” He looked away from her. She shrugged. “You make time for me though. Plenty of it. I knew what I was getting into, Channie. I don’t regret any of it.” She said softly, trying to meet his eyes. 

“I.. I’m sorry.” Chan's voice cracked. That had (y/n) sitting up immediately. “No, No, none of that.” She said. She moved to straddle his waist. She grabbed his face and made him look up. Her heart shattered at the tears that streaked the mans face. “Talk to me, Chan.” She whispered. 

The man searched her eyes for any uncertainty. Any glimpse of something that said she didn’t really care. But he found none of it. Her eyes were filled with nothing but love and care. His lip trembled. “I don't deserve your love..” He cried, a sob breaking past his lips. (y/n) was slightly shocked. She had seen Chan cry before. He was very expressive with his emotions, but this seemed so much different.

She pulled his head into her chest, running her hands through his hair. Chan wrapped his arms around her waist and sobbed into her chest. (y/n) held him, softly hushing to him that it was okay. She would let him get his tears out. She knew he needed to release the feeling to feel better.

After a few minutes, she pulled his head back. There was a tear stain on the white shirt she wore. She took her thumbs to his cheeks, swiping away his tears. “Why do you think you’re unworthy of my love?” She said. Chan blinked a bit. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it after a second. “Think about it Chan.” (y/n) said, nodding softly. Chan let out a shaky breath. 

“I just don’t feel.. Good enough for you.” He said. (y/n) nodded, humming for him to continue. “I’m always so busy with work. I don’t feel like i'm handsome enough for you. There's been so many times where I snapped at you after work, but i’m just tired. And I-” He was cut off by her hand going over his mouth.

She squinted at him. “Who do you think you are, huh?” She said. Chan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “You have no right to be saying these things about yourself, Chan.” She said sternly. “But I-” He was cut off again. “No! Christopher, you are the most amazing person I could ever imagine being with.” She said. “I don’t care whether you’re handsome or not, which you are very handsome. But! Your love, and your loyalty is what I cherish.” She nodded. 

“You are so talented, strong, pretty, beautiful, all of it. Everything about you is perfect.” She rambled. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Jagi. Because you truly are such an amazing man.” She caught more stray tears that slid down his cheeks. “You are worthy of my love.” She said. 

Chan sniffled, his eyes glossing over once more. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. (y/n) raised her eyebrows. “For what?” She asked. She always asked. Unless he gave her a solid reason to be sorry, she wouldn’t listen. They always went back and forth on apologies. They were both working on learning that they didn’t have to apologize for everything. 

Chan licked his lips and sighed. He looked down. “For thinking bad about myself. Also for.. Thinking I don’t deserve your love.” His voice was quiet. The woman hummed, tilting his head up. “It’s okay, Channie.” She kissed his nose. “I love you. I love you so much. Nothing will ever stop me from loving you.” She kissed him softly. Chan kissed back, squeezing her waist. 

He pulled away and looked into her eyes. “I love you too. More than anything in the whole world.” He said. She smiled. “I know, baby. Now let's get some rest, yeah? I’m going with you to practice in the morning. You need sleep so Minho doesn’t scold you for being so tired like last time.” She giggled. Chan nodded with a small chuckle. 

They moved to lay down, Chan turning off the lamp before cuddling her close. “Thank you for loving me, (y/n).” He whispered. (y/n) hummed softly. “I will love you until the end of time.” She whispered sleepily. Chan chuckled softly, kissing her head and soon falling asleep with her in his arms.

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my requests are open!! I write for Stray Kids, ATEEZ and All Of Us Are Dead! I'm working on adding more to the list of what I can write for. I mainly do hurt/comfort and angst (mostly always with a happy ending). I am open to anything though!! (NO SMUT)

this was such a cute idea. I saw this tiktok, and I got this idea. he's such a sweetheart, he deserves the world. I don't think he understands how much we love him. I hope you enjoyed! have a good day/night/evening! muwahhh!!

all writing rights reserved to @his-angell. do not repost or translate blogs without permission. reblogs are appreciated!

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #skz fluff #stray kids angst #skz angst #stray kids bang chan #skz bang chan #christopher bangchan #bangchan #bangchan skz #bangchan x reader #bangchan x y/n #stray kids x reader #skz #skz x reader #skz x y/n #bangchan fluff #bangchan angst #stray kids x you #skz x you #skz x stay #open requests

[his-angell]

Savior. (j.wy)

plot; After going out at 3am to grab a snack from a near by convenience store, you found yourself being followed. Heading to a different store on a busier street, you hope that someone there could save you. Thank god he was there to protect you.

paring; non!idol!Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

genre; angst, comfort

word count; 1.9k

warnings; being followed, anxiety, crying, cursing, mentions of being drunk, mention of escaped murderer, 3rd person pov

request; no

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(y/n) hummed to herself as she exited the 24 hour convenience store. It was like three in the morning and she had left her apartment about twenty minutes ago, seeking for a late night snack. She had a small skip to her walk, having been lucky enough to get the last pack of her favorite snack that sat on the shelf. She stopped though when she felt a sudden uneasy feeling loom over her. 

She frowned and cleared her throat nervously, shaking her head a little. It was that sickening feeling that someone was following her. She tried to push it off, but as she walked, it only grew. She turned her head a bit, pretending to look around the street. Her stomach dropped when she saw a bigger man following her. She looked back in front of her, her hands starting to tremble. She reached for her pocket to grab her phone, only to find it not there.. “Shit.” She whimpered quietly. She had left it at home on the charger.. 

She felt her breathing starting to pick up. She would push it off as the man was just going the same way, but the way his footsteps matched her exactly told her otherwise. Her eyes welled with tears as the fear creeped up her body. She started to walk a little faster, the man's footsteps seemingly louder now as he inched closer.

She turned onto a different road, because there was no way in hell she was leading this man back to her home. She quickly swiped away the tear that rolled down her cheek. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears. Her body was slightly trembling. She had found herself on a busier street now, thank god. Her eyes scanned store to store, trying to find one that was still open. 

To her luck, there was. A sign with bright green and red lights. A convenience store like the one she had just been at. She found herself walking faster, but only a little. She didn’t want this guy to know she was aware of him. Because god knows what he would do. She pushed open the door, scanning the store. Her eyes welled with tears as the girl at the counter was only like seventeen.. She was barely awake, lazily scrolling through her phone. Obviously no help to her. 

She glanced back at the doors, seeing the man reaching for the handle. She swallowed thickly and looked around. She spotted at male at the back, he had white and black hair.. She rushed up to him, latching herself onto his arm. “Hey babe! Sorry I took so long to get here!” She said, loud enough for the mysterious man in the aisle behind them to hear. 

The man looked down to her, furrowing his eyebrows. He opened his mouth to speak, when he caught the tears in her eyes. He glanced back to where she had glanced seconds prior. He looked back down to her with a small smile. “It's no problem, dove!” He wrapped an arm around her, holding just above her waist. “Mingi and San are out waiting in the car,” He nodded. He had said that a little louder than his last sentence. He hoped the guy would back off knowing the flight would be three to one. 

The man squeezed her side a little, walking over to an aisle further away. “Are you okay?” He hushed to the woman huddled at his side. She shrugged a little, gripping onto him tighter. She only pulled one hand away to wipe the few tears that had slipped down her face. She swallowed the lump in her throat. 

The man nodded again, pursing his lips. “I’m Wooyoung.. You want me to drive you home?” He asked, but immediately closed his eyes, sighing at himself. She looked up at him, her eyes a little wide. “I mean.. Sorry- I can call you a cab if you’d like.” He corrected. (y/n) blinked a few times and nodded. “Yeah.. That's fine.” She agreed. Wooyoung nodded a little. He held up the two smaller cartons of chocolate milk he had. “I gotta pay for these, and then we’ll head out.” He said. She nodded. 

Wooyoung went to the counter with the girl glued to his hip. (y/n) would never ever say it out loud, but god this guy was so fine. He was even respectful with his hand placements. Above her hip, and now it rested just above the small of her back. This man was literally an angel. He paid for his drinks, giving a small nod to the girl before heading out. He retracted his hand off her back, gently holding her shoulder. 

He glanced into the store again, seeing the man staring dead into the smaller woman's soul. He looked beyond pissed. Wooyoung pursed his lips. “Here… You can wait in my car if you want till your cab arrives.” He said. She messed with her hands nervously. She glanced inside the store and nodded. “Yeah.. Please,” She looked up at Wooyoung. He smiled and nodded a little. He opened the passenger door and helped her in, closing it behind her. 

(y/n) was about to relax when a loud voice made her jump. “Yahh!! What took you so freaking long?” A male with red hair whined. A blonde boy was shoving at him. “Get off me! Your fat head is so heavy!” He grunted. The red haired boy slapped his chest. “Ugh! Wooyoung, tell him to-” When the man looked up, he paused, staring blankly at the girl in the car. “Who are you?” He asked, a slur to his words. 

(y/n) opened her mouth to speak, but only a small nervous laugh came out. She looked between the two boys in the back seat. The one with red hair stared at her expectantly (not in a snarky way, more curious), while the blonde one looked more confused than anything. “Some creep was following them.” Wooyoung sighed as he got into the drivers side. “What!?” Both boys in the back shrieked, toppling over each other to look out the window of the car. “Let me out! I’ll fucking kill him!” The blonde one yelled. “Yeahh! At least unlock the windows so we can yell at the guy!” The red haired one joined in. 

“Mingi, San!” Wooyoung reached back and wacked both boys upside the head, causing them to both whine loudly. Wooyoung sighed heavily, leaning back into his seat. (y/n) was stifling giggles. “Sorry about them.. They had a little too much to drink.” Wooyoung laughed nervously. (y/n) shook her head lightly, waving her hand a little. “It's alright,” She said softly. She looked down at her hands nervously. 

Wooyoung held up a finger to her, signaling her to give him a second. He reached into his bag and pulled out the two things of chocolate milk. “Here, you two, drink these.” He tossed them into the back seats. “Oww! Woo, you hit me in the head!” San held his head with a pout. Mingi cackled at him, earning a slap to his thigh. Wooyoung sighed loudly. He shook his head. 

He pulled out his phone, going to the call a cab app he had. “It's okay!” (y/n) blurted. Wooyoung looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed. “If.. If you still wanna, you can drive me home. I don't think I could stand being in another strangers car..” She said. Wooyoung hummed. “Yeah? What changed your mind?” He hummed a little. “Well, I find you safe enough, given that you helped me almost immediately, when normally it takes at least a minute for someone to get the hint. Also, them,” She motioned to the two men in the backseat. “None of you give off ‘im a murder’ vibes.” She covered her mouth as she laughed softly. 

Wooyoung chuckled and nodded a little. “That makes sense. Well I'm glad I could help.” He said. (y/n) nodded. “Thank you, really. I’m (y/n) by the way.” She said. “I-I’m really glad I ran into you and not some weirdo..” She mumbled. He smiled. “Yeah, of course! Now, where do you live so I can get you home, yeah?” He said softly. She told him her address, and he typed it into his phone. 

As they drove, Wooyoung sparked small conversions with (y/n). But they were always interrupted by the boys in the back. At some point the radio was turned on, and San was screaming the lyrics. Mingi had his head out the window like a dog, after snakily reaching to unlock the windows. 

When they pulled up to the apartment complex, (y/n) smiled at Wooyoung. “Thank you again, Wooyoung.” She said softly. “You’re welcome.” He smiled. “Can I give you my number? I’ll repay you with coffee or dinner.” She said. Wooyoung hummed and nodded, handing her his phone. He opened his mouth to speak, but loud “Oooohhss!!” and whistles interrupted him. “God, I'm gonna kill them, I swear.” Wooyoung sighed, making (y/n) giggle. He was like a tired dad taking care of toddlers. 

He tutted. “Anyways.. As I was saying, you don't have to repay me really.” He said. She squinted at him. “I’m going to repay you.” She said as she handed his phone back. She had sent a text to herself, so she wouldn’t freak out when a random number texted her. She opened the door, stepping out and grabbing her bag with her snacks. “Waitt.. She's leaving already?” San pouted. “It's okay, we’ll see her again soon, I'm sure.” Wooyoung smiled. “Definitely,” (y/n) giggled and closed the door, waving softly before walking into the complex. 

BONUS:

A week had passed, (y/n) and Wooyoung had been talking constantly. She did end up repaying him with coffee one day. He only accepted because it meant more time to get to know her. Even San and Mingi remembered her after they woke up the morning after meeting her. They urged Wooyoung to go get coffee with her. They found them so cute when they were drunk. They even teased him. Calling him a “Strong burly man!” or making teasing comments like, “Ouh! Gosh! You’re my knight in shining armor!” Which earned harsh slaps to their backs. 

At some point, they were all comfortable enough to hang out with each other. One night when they were all hanging out, (y/n) was scrolling through her phone. She frowned as she came across a news article. “Guys..” She mumbled, sitting up from the bean bag she was on and moving to sit on the couch with the boys. She handed them her phone. “Holy shit..” San mumbled. It was an article of an escaped murderer having finally been caught and put back into prison.(y/n) would have ignored it, but there was a picture.. Wooyoung frowned and looked at (y/n). “Isn’t that..” He pointed to the phone which Mingi held since he was in the middle. (y/n) nodded and looked down. It was the man that had followed her that night.. 

Ever since that night, she had always been grateful for Wooyoung. He was genuinely her savior. The night of reading the news article, after Mingi and San went to bed, she had cuddled with him and cried to him about how genuinely scared she had been. This was the first time actually breaking down since the event. He held her the whole time, hushing comforting words and rubbing her back. (y/n) would always look to Wooyoung if she ever felt unsafe or scared. She trusted him with everything in her.

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this was so yummy to write. it was heavily inspired by a story i read the other day. the bonus was written kinda choppy, but i could not just leave it there. i hope you all like ittt.

inspired by @bluehwale 'Unconventional first encounters with ATEEZ!' - Sans part more specifically :)

my requests are open guys, pls pls pls i will write anything. BUT NO SMUT. i will not write that. i love writing angst with hurt to comfort ANYWAYS i hope you guys enjoyed! stay safe out thereee! mmuuwahhh!!

all writing rights are reserved to @his-angell do not repost or translate my work without my permission. reblogs are appreciated.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez comfort #ateez jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung ateez #wooyoung angst #ateez x reader #ateez hurt/comfort #ateez fic #ateez imagines #choi san #song mingi #san #mingi #ateez mingi #ateez san #open requests

[his-angell]

Strike 3. (s.cb)

plot; You never had a good relationship with your parents. So when they invited you to a family dinner, you were unsure of whether to go or not. Changbin said you should at least try. So you did. You went. But you end up wishing you hadn't.

pairing; Seo Changbin x fem!reader

genre; angst, comfort

word count; 2.7k

warnings; mentally abusive parents, weight insecurity, knifes cause cooking is mentioned, one small blood mention, alcohol mention, trauma reminders, cursing, established relationship, description of panic attack, crying, pet names

request; no

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As you stared at your phone, your thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Your mother had texted the night prior, her text reading, “We’re having a family dinner at home tomorrow. We would like you to come.”. Which would have been great and all, if you had a good relationship with them. 

Ever since you were young, your parents were hard on you. Always belittling you for such small things. Praising your older brother, since he seemed to be getting further than you were. You were always jealous of the way he was treated. He always got the praise and love you never got. 

When you brought it up to Changbin, he said you should go. He knew of the way they used to treat you. But he assumed maybe this dinner was gonna be different. That this was their redemption. So with some convincing, you finally agreed. So here you sat, texting your mother a simple, “I’ll be there.”

You didn’t wear anything special. Looking at yourself in the long way mirror you and Changbin had in your room. You wore one of his white hoodies, black cargo pants and your converse. You weren’t gonna try and impress them. You didn’t wanna seem like a try hard. 

You sighed as you grabbed your phone and lanyard which held your keys. You walked over to Changbin who was cleaning up the kitchen. “I’m heading out.” You said as you leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Alright, tell me when you're on your way home, yeah?” He turned to you. You nodded and gave a soft kiss to his lips. 

As you walked out, you heard him call out. “I love you!” You giggled a bit. “Love you most!” With that, you headed out. As you walked to your car, you were really contemplating if you wanted to go or not. But you guessed you had already made your choice when you texted your mother back. You sighed as you got in, starting the car. 

You drove in silence, needing time to mentally prepare for what was to come. You parked on the side of the road in front of the house. You turned off the car, stuffing your phone and keys in your pocket, the my melody lanyard hanging out. You walked up to the door, slowly holding your fist up to knock. 

It was only a few seconds before your brother opened the door. He stared for a second. “You look fancy.” He said sarcastically. “Yeah, thanks.” You rolled your eyes as you walked into the house. You gave a small smile to your mother who came to greet you. 

You bowed your head and hugged her. “Hi momma.” You said quietly. “Hi, Jagi.” She said back, leaning back to cup your cheeks. She pinched at them. “You’ve gotten some extra chub to your cheeks.” She said, huffing disappointedly. You frowned. “Oh- I..” You just cleared your throat, knowing better than to talk back. 

Your father was next to walk to greet you. Except there was a noticeable grimance on his face. “You look lazy.” He motioned to your outfit. “Yeah. It's to hide all that weight she gained.” Your brother leaned against the wall. 

Strike one. Did you really look that bad? “Sorry.” You bowed your head down, holding it as a deep apology. “Anyways! Come help me with dinner, dear!” Your mother patted your head. Your father and brother headed out to the living room. 

As your mum explained to you what you were gonna be doing, you nodded. You were gonna be cutting the vegetables for the salad. She handed you a knife and you began to cut the vegetables.

You seemed to be zoned out, because as you were cutting, you cut your finger pretty good. “Aishh! Shibal-!” You cried out, dropping the knife onto the cutting board. You whimpered as you held your bleeding hand over the sink. 

Your father whipped around, glaring at you from the other side of the bar counter. “Don’t you curse in my house!” He yelled, gripping the glass of whiskey in his hand. You opened your mouth to speak when you were slapped upside the head making you wince.

“You know better! That is unlady like! It's disgusting!” Your mother spat at you. You looked at your brother as he chuckled, leaning back in his chair, sipping at his glass of whiskey. “You need to grow up, dude. It's a small cut.” He scoffed. You clenched your jaw. 

Strike two. You stormed out of the kitchen, rushing to the bathroom. You cupped your hand below your finger, attempting not to drip any blood anywhere. Once you got to the bathroom, you closed the door with your foot. You held your hand in the sink and let cold water run over it. 

You felt your eyes get fuzzy as you let the water run. Nothing changed.. It was the same thing when you were younger. Walking in crying, having scraped your knee on the pavement. You were told to grow up. You weren’t dying. You weren’t broken. Get over it. 

Never did you get a kiss better. A mother to hush your cries as she bandages your knee with a bandage and neosporin. You took a deep breath. You shook your head, blinking back your tears. You grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and began taking care of your finger. 

You picked up your mess, putting the kit away and looking at yourself in the mirror. You wiped your eyes and huffed. You walked out of the bathroom to see the table set and ready, your parents and brother sitting down. 

“Took you long enough.” Your father scolded. “Sorry, dad.” You apologized as you sat down. It was normal to let the men at the table grab their food first. Then your mother, then you. You started to put food on your plate. “Should you be eating that much?” Your brother spoke, mouthfill of food. 

You sighed, placing the main course back in its bowl, just sitting with salad on your plate. You weren’t really hungry now.. So you picked at the food on your plate. There was only so much patience left before you hit strike three.. You were like a ticking bomb. 

You stared at your plate, waiting for someone to start a conversation. As if on cue, your mother spoke. “Are you still working as a kindergarten teacher, (y/n)?” She asked. You pursed your lips before nodding. “Yeah. I like it there. The kids are the sweetest.” You forced a small smile. 

“Aishh.. So disappointing.” Your father tutted. You looked at him. “You know, your brother is climbing the family company chain. He's about to be vice president next month.” He praised the male. tick tick tick…

You nodded a little. “Good job.” You nodded to your brother. “Thanks,” He shook his head a bit. You grabbed your glass of water, taking a sip from it. “Are you still dating that Changbin guy?” Your mother asked, covering her mouth as she chewed her food. 

This might be better. They were asking about your lovely boyfriend! You smiled a bit and nodded. “Yeah! We’re about to hit our four year anniversary.” You said proudly. You faltered though when your brother cackled. 

“Wait, you mean that idiot in the band? The one who got mad at the last dinner we had?” He pointed. You glanced down. “He wasn’t mad. He just wasn’t comfortable with how you were treating me,” You said matter of factly. “Don’t you dare talk back to your brother like that!” Your father raised his voice. tick tick tick…

You balled your fists, your leg beginning to bounce under the table. “You’re so dramatic, jagi. We treat you just fine.” Your mother said. You scoffed. “Yeah, do you?” You said, your fuse getting smaller by the second. “Yes, we do.” She shot a glare at you. tick tick tick…

You stared her dead in the eye. “You guys belittle me like i'm a bug!” You laughed in disbelief. “Not true, (y/n). Like your mother said, you're just being dramatic.” Your father piped in. “It's your stupid boyfriend. He's putting lies into your head to make us look bad.” Your brother spat. tick tick tick…

You stared at all them in utter disbelief. “You're joking! You did nothing but belittle me all night. The second I got here, you degraded me!” You raised your voice. “And you praise him like he's so much better than me!” You pointed at your brother. tick tick tick..

“Because he is better than you!!” Your father yelled. BOOM. 

You shot up from your chair. Your stormed out of the house, slamming the door. The tears in your eyes stung. Your chest was tight. You got in your car and started it, immediately driving home. 

As you walked in the door, Changbin could already read your body language. The way you angrily untied your shoes, throwing them on the floor once they were off your feet. The way you tossed your keys on the counter instead of hanging them up. He looked at you as you just walked to your room with not even a hello. 

You shut the door of your shared bedroom. You didn’t even make it to the bed before your legs gave out, sending you straight to the floor. All of what you held back in the car was coming out now. Your chest was tight and you couldn’t catch your breath.

Your lips became tingly and dry as you clutched your chest. A choked cry escaped your lips as you closed your eyes tightly. Your head was so heavy. You felt as if you were gonna vomit. You gripped onto the hoodie, coughing as you choked on sobs. 

You were unable to hear anything, due to the ringing in your ears that gave you a pounding headache. Changbin was in front of you, trying to get you out of it. “Baby! Hey! Breathe! Please breathe for me!” He tried. 

His voice echoed in your head. You slowly opened your eyes. “I’m right here, Jagiya.” He said, holding your hands tightly. “Bin!” You sobbed. “Gh- hurts!” You still couldn’t seem to catch your breath. Still choking and coughing as the sobs escaped your throat. 

Changbin nodded, rubbing gently over your knuckles with his thumbs. “I know, I know..” He mumbled. “Can you breathe with me? Like we practiced.” He said. You nodded quickly. “In.. One, two.. Out. One, two, three..” He said. You did as he said, following his breathing. 

“Good.. You’re doing so good, baby.” He said. After a few more, you were semi calm. You hiccupped. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked. “Can.. Can I shower first?” You asked. He nodded. “I’ll sit in there, if you’d like.” He offered. You nodded. 

He helped you up and you walked to the bathroom. You pulled off your jeans and socks. Changbin sat down on the toilet after setting the lid down. You slowly took off the hoodie, nothing but a bra under it. So there you stood, in your bra and underwear staring in the mirror. 

Changbin squinted at you for a moment, watching how you stared at your stomach. He stood up and walked behind you, hugging your waist. “Binnie.. Do-Do you think im-” He was quick to cut you off. “No. No. No.” He said. He kissed your shoulders, kneeling down and turning you around. 

He littered your stomach with kisses. “You’re so gorgeous, Jagiya.” He hushed against your skin. “Your stomach is so beautiful. All of you is beautiful.” He nibbled at your tummy a bit. You giggled softly, running your hands through his curly hair. “That tickles-” You hummed. 

He looked up at you. “Mmm.. I wanna hear you say it,” He said. You frowned. “Say what?” You mumbled. “That youre beautiful.” He stood up and went back behind you, hugging your waist again. You blinked. You stared at yourself in the mirror, shaking your head. 

“I can’t..” Your voice cracked. “Yes, you can, baby.” Changbin kissed your shoulder gently. “I-I..” You looked at Changbin in the mirror. He was giving gentle eyes to you. “I’m..” You started. He nodded gently. “I’m beautiful.” You finally said. Changbin gave a gentle smile. “So beautiful,” He said. 

“Now get in the shower, yeah? I’ll go put your towel and pjs in the dryer so they're warm for you.” He said. He kissed your cheek and left the bathroom. You couldn’t describe how grateful you were for him.. You stripped out of your garments and got into the shower. 

You spent a little while in the shower. Scrubbing a little harder than normal to get the disgusting words from your parents off your body. Changbin sat outside the shower, humming to a song he had stuck in his head as he scrolled through his phone. 

Once you were done you turned off the water. “Bin, can you go get my clothes?” You asked softly, poking your head out from behind the curtain. He nodded and smiled at you before heading to get them out of the dryer. 

You stood in the shower as you waited, thanking him when he returned. He left the bathroom so you could dry off and change. After you did so, you brushed your hair and teeth. You looked at the door, closing it a bit. 

Even having heard Changbins words from before, you couldn’t forget the ones from your family. You leaned closer to the mirror and pinched your cheeks. You turned, tracing your jawline. You sniffled and gripped the sink. You groaned, leaving the bathroom quickly. 

Changbin had made the bed nice and comfy for you to come back to. You smiled softly and sat down next to him, leaning into his chest. “You smell so nice,” He giggled as he ran his hands through your damp hair. You laughed softly, rolling your eyes playfully. 

You took a deep breath. You promised you’d tell him after you shower.. So that's what you did. You began to tell him all of what happened. From how they bashed you the moment you walked in, to the moment you left. 

When you had mentioned your finger, he gasped loudly. “Oh, Jagiya!” He frowned, taking your hand gently. He had seen the bandage before but he was too focused on calming you down. He brought your finger to his lips and placed a gentle kiss to it. 

He had listened to all of what you had to say. Humming here and there to let you know he was listening. He would wipe your stray tears with his thumbs when they fell down your cheeks. Deep down he was pissed. Rightfully so. He hated how your parents treated you. 

He had witnessed it first hand when they invited the both of you to dinner at a fancy restaurant. It was disgusting how they shit talked her like it was nothing. Then to turn around and praise their other child just as easily. He hated it. 

He rubbed your back comfortingly. “I’m so sorry sweet Jagi.” He sighed softly. You shrugged. “It’s whatever.” You sighed. “I knew better when I decided to go.” You mumbled. “Still. You don’t deserve that,” He said. “Get some rest, yeah? I’ll treat you to a better dinner tomorrow?” He smiled. 

You smiled softly, looking up at him. “Thank you. Bin. I appreciate you more than you know.”

You whispered. “Aishh.. No need to thank me.” He gave that nervous smile. You giggled and kissed him softly, which he happily returned. 

You pulled away after a moment and hummed. You both crawled under the blanket and tangled your legs together. He reached behind him and turned off the lamp before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. 

“I love you, Jagiya.” He whispered. “I love you more, Bin.” You hummed and closed your eyes, drifting off into a comfortable sleep. He would stay awake though.. Just for a few minutes. Taking you in. Admiring you from the dim streetlamp that shined through the window. He didn’t understand how anyone could be so rude and unkind to someone like you. So pretty and sweet.. He sighed softly and closed his eyes, kissing your head and falling asleep soon after.

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im so proud of this tbh :0 i literally thought of this as i was falling asleep and i wa so excited to write it, i love angst. i hope you guys enjoyedd! stay safe, loves! muwahhh!!

all writing rights are reserved to @his-angell do not repost or translate my work without my permission.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #stray kids comfort #skz comfort #skz fanfic #skz angst #stray kids seo changbin #skz seo changbin #seo changbin #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin comfort #seo changbin skz #changbin #skz #seo changbin angst #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids hurt/comfort #skz hurt/comfort #open requests

[his-angell]

"It's aright, Sunshine." (l.f)

plot; seeing Felix cry was never easy. But it's different as he cries while staring into the crowd of people who support him most.

paring; idol!Lee Felix x Fem!Reader

genre; fluff, comfort,

word count; 1.0k

warnings; 9th member, Felix is crying, established relationships, pet names

request; no

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It was their last concert of their tour, and they were wrapping up the last few songs. STAY was jumping and screaming as the group all danced around happily. Felix had started to get the feels a little before their last two songs.

 Felix had a love for STAYs that was unexplainable. They made him into the person he was. He loved them more than he would be able to explain. He wanted to be able to make them happy. Which he did all the time!! There was just that worry that he was disappointing them in some way. But this concert was proving him wrong. 

The STAYs had something planned. They had all written on some paper airplanes and started throwing them on stage. The nine members had all ditched their choreo, curious in the planes. They started making rounds over the stage, waving and greeting STAYs as they picked up the papers and read over them. 

Felix was so baffled by the act of STAYs. He read every word on the papers. Taking them to heart. At some point, he had backed up into the middle. He covered his face up with his green rag, gazing into the crowd with his teary eyes. At some point he broke, sobs beginning to rack his body as he stared at the many people in the stadium. 

(y/n) hopped around next to Jeongin, hyping him up as he sang his part. She was careful not to step on any of the planes that were still being tossed onto the stage. She glanced back when she realized Felix wasn’t doing rounds anymore. A frown coated her face. She tucked her microphone into the pocket of her jeans and walked over to the man in the middle. 

“Oh, Felix, baby..” She hushed. She gently wiped his tears with her thumbs. “What's wrong, dear?” She tilted her head, her hair flopping to the side. Felix stammered out some words which were all kinda just jumbled. But the motion to the planes and the crowd was enough info for her. Felix quickly gripped onto his lover, sobbing into her shoulder. 

The other members had taken notice of this. “Felix, whats up?” Chan rushed over, looking at (y/n). She motioned to the crowd. “Happy tears.” She said simply. “Awe, Felix!” Chan cooed into the microphone. “Stay! You made him cry!” Changbin said into the microphone, sending a playful glare to the crowd. The stadium filled with ‘awess!’. 

“Come on, Lixie, one more song yeah?” (y/n) said after she took her mic out and turned it back on. Felix nodded, following the group as they all began to sing their final song of the night. They all stayed more huddled together. Felix was hugging everyone, more than once even. Some short, some longer. He was making his rounds, waving and picking up planes. It went on like that for a little while longer before it was time to leave. They all bid their goodbyes, heading into the back rooms.

That's where Felix let himself cry and cry as he read more of the papers. “Come here, Felix,” Changbin said, waving him over. He hugged him, holding his phone up. Felix muttered something. Changbin hit the record button on the phone. “What was that?” He said. “Huh?” Felix stood off his shoulder a bit. He frowned. “Say it again,” Changbin said. Felix turned and scoffed. “Dont film me-!” Felix pushed the phone away. Changbin snickered, only to get scolded by Chan a few seconds later, causing him to pout. He still ended up posting it on bubble.

With a huff he turned to his girlfriend, who was laying on the couch in front of the fan. Felix sniffled and crawled on top of her, hiding his face in her neck. “Oof-” She grunted as the male's weight was laid on her. She didn’t mind though. She rubbed his back. “Hi, Sunshine..” She hushed. “Hi.” He sniffled. They had been dating for about two years now. It was still private to STAYs, but not to the other members. They fully supported them.

“I’m sorry for crying so much.” Felix sniffled as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “I probably looked so stupid.. Ugh, and it's all over the internet now..” He groaned into her neck. “It's alright, Sunshine,” (y/n) picked up his head to look at her. She wiped his tears. “You’re not stupid. You were overwhelmed by all the love from Stay,” She said. “It's a lot, you had every right to cry,” She added. Felix nodded a little. “Besides, crying is good for you, dove, don’t worry.” She kissed his nose. 

Felix smiled and pecked her lips. “Thank you, starlight,” He hushed. “Ewww! No sucking faces on the same couch i’m on!” Seungmin whined, pushing their feet off the couch. This caused loud giggles to emit from everyone in the room. Seungmin grumbled to himself before going back on his phone. “She is right, Lix. It's okay to cry. We all do.” Chan pipped in as he sat on the floor to stretch his sore legs.

Felix would always be so grateful for his members. For STAY. They were always so good to him, sometimes he was in disbelief it was all real. But it was moments like these where he was so glad to have all of them. They truly meant the world to him. He would do anything to keep it just like this forever.

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this was a little idea. i don't think it was written very well but its whatever- i hope youre all doing wellll!! stay safe out there, lovies! muwahh!!

all writing rights reserved to @his-angell do not repost or translate my work without my permission.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #skz fluff #stray kids lee felix #stray kids felix lee #stray kids lee yongbok #skz lee felix #skz felix #skz lee yongbok #lee felix #felix #lee yongbok #lee felix fluff #lee felix x reader #felix x you #felix x y/n #felix x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz #open requests

[his-angell]

hi hi! i just wanna let you know that i absolutely loved your most recent hurt/comfort fic with changbin! i’ve been in my own little slump recently and it brought me so much comfort<3. you’re such an amazing writer, and you captured every feeling so well!

AWEE IM SO GLAD SWEETIE!! im happy that the story was able to make you feel nice!! i appreciate this more than you know. <33!!

[his-angell]

i wanna be painless. (s.cb)

plot; A slump. A wave of depression that hit her so fast, she wasn't able to stop it. She didn't know what to do. She felt so stuck and empty. She couldn't focus on anything. Her sweet boyfriend was right there to help her through it.

paring; Seo Changbin x fem!reader

genre; agnst, fluff, hurt/comfort

word count; 1.3k

warnings; alcohol consumption (just wine), depressive episode

request; no

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A slump. That's what it was. A stupid slump. A hole dug so deep, she couldn’t crawl up. She didn’t know what caused this wave of depression. It was like being sucked underwater after you fall off your surfboard. Kicking, and kicking, holding your breath while trying so hard to get above water. Something so sudden, so fast, but it feels like forever before you reach the top. She was dragged so deep, forever kicking to try and escape the wave that just engulfed her. 

There she sat, staring at her book, reading the same sentence, trying to focus on the words that were scattered on the page. The tea that sat beside her on her nightstand far cold by now. She sank further in the warm sheets of her bed, tossing the book to the empty space beside her. She stared at the painting Hyunjin had gifted her for her birthday. Such a beautiful art piece. One of her favorite flowers. She sniffled, looked down at her hands. 

Her fingertips had dried blood on them. She had been biting at them a lot recently. Something she tended to do when she fell into these slumps. She blinked a little as the beeps from the apartment door filled the quiet home. She frowned. She grabbed her phone, which had been face down beside her. 11:37 at night. She frowned at all the missed texts and calls from her boyfriend. She heard his hurried footsteps rushing to the room. 

She hadn’t even felt the vibrations of the calls or texts. She had been so out of it all day, nothing was able to pull her from it. She felt her lip start to tremble as her boyfriend rushed into the room. “(y/n)?!” His panicked voice spoke into the dim room. He looked at the woman in the bed and his eyes softened. He frowned. Her hair was messy, her eyes were red. Her trembling lip poked out in a pout. “Oh.. Sweet Jagiya..” He hushed. 

Changbin rushed to his lovers side, pulling her into his arms. Her walls shattered. She broke into the loudest, most heart wrenching sobs Changbin had ever heard. Her grip on his black shirt was tight as she cried into his chest. Changbin kissed the crown of her head and rubbed her back. He would whisper sweet reassurances to her as she cried. He would feel his chest tighten anytime she seemed to cry harder. 

It felt like forever to her before she finally calmed down. She panted a few times, trying to catch her breath. She let out a shaky breath. “I’m.. I’m sor-” She was cut off as Changbins finger was pressed to her lips. “Don’t say it.” He said. “What have I told you about those two words?” He squinted at her. She sniffled and nodded a little. They had made a promise not to apologize unless an apology was really needed. So they weren’t allowed to apologize for small things. 

Changbin looked down at her, cupping her cheeks, wiping her tears with his hands. “I’m gonna go run you a warm bath, yeah?” He said. She thought for a moment before nodding a little. He kissed her head and got up. He headed to the bathroom, which held a decently sized bathtub. He turned on the water, feeling it to make sure it was a good temperature before plugging it. He added a small bit of bubbles. 

He waited till the tub was full before turning off the water. He walked out and went to the bedroom. (y/n) sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. “Hey, come on, love.” He gently took her to the bathroom. He gently grabbed the brush, beginning to run in through her knotted hair. “Binnie..” She whispered. “You don’t have to do this, you know?” She mumbled, her eyes closed as she refused to look at herself in the mirror. “I don’t have to. But I want to.” Chnagbin said.

He finished brushing her hair, humming softly. “Go ahead and get in, I’ll be back.” He said. She nodded softly. She began to stip her clothes, slowly sinking into the warm bath water. Changbin can back two minutes later, a glass of wine and an empty cup in hand. SHe giggled quietly. “You're so cheesy..” She whispered. Changbin smiled. “Awe, really?” He snickered. 

She hummed and took the glass from him, taking a sip from it before scotting it up on the counter. She sighed and tilted her head back. Changbin filled the plastic cup, gently pouring the warm water on her head. “Do you wanna talk, Jagiya?” He whispered, not wanting to come off as harsh to her. (y/n) sucked in a sharp breath. 

She knew that she never had to be scared to talk to Changbin. They had been dating for three years now. She had a closer bond with Changbin than anyone else. She never needed to hesitate to open up to him. Yet, it was always so hard to reach out for help. Even when he says that she doesn’t need to feel bad to. She can’t help it. He's always so busy with work, to burden him with her stupid fits would be annoying.

She took a deep breath. “Just been in a slump..” She mumbled. Changbin hummed. “Anything specific on your mind?” He asked. He would never be mad at her if she didn’t reach out. He wasn’t like that. But he would always be there to help her out. He put some shampoo in his hand, beginning to scrub it into her hair. “Nothings been on my mind.. But I can’t focus on anything. I can’t even focus on my books..” She said. She always loved her books. Nothing ever distracted her from her books. 

Changbin hummed. “Well, I don’t have work tomorrow. So how about I take you out.” He said. She frowned and sighed. “Bin, I really don’t wanna go anywhere.” She said, “Well, i’m not gonna let you stay in this gloomy apartment.” Changbin said as he rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. She left it, because she knew she wouldn’t be able to win. She let Changbin baby her, washing her hair and body. She would reach over and sip at her wine. 

Once she was done with her bath, Changbin went to fetch her clothes while she dried off. When he came back, he helped her get dressed. He ran his fingers through her damp hair. “Do you want me to blow dry your hair?” He looked at her in the mirror. “No thanks. It's too loud.” She said. “Got it. Lets get you to bed, baby.” He said, guiding her back to the bed. 

He helped her into the bed and he tucked her in. “I’ll be back. I gotta change.” He smiled, kissing her cheek. He went into the closet, changing. He threw his dirt clothes into the bin, putting on some clean basketball shorts. He slept without a shirt, so he walked up, crawling into bed with his beloved. He pulled her into him, humming softly. 

He rubbed circles on her back. “I love you, Jagiya. I’m gonna help you out of this slump.” He whispered. (y/n)’s lip trembled a little at his words. She had never felt so loved and cared for until she met Changbin.. She appreciated him more than he’ll ever know. “I love you too, Binnie.. Thank you.” She whispered. 

She fell into the comfort of the warmth of her boyfriend. The man who had saved her countless times before. She sighed softly and snuggled further into his warm chest. She let her eyes flutter shut, a comfortable sleep soon overwhelming her. She felt so much better in Changbins arms. Painless. Nothing to worry about. She didn’t have to worry about anything with her lovers arms hugged tightly around her waist..

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i needed some yummy comfort from changbin bro, mehehehe. GUYS I NEED REQUESTS pslpslspsl im so bored LMSOSDA

all writing rights reserved to @his-angell do not repost or translate my work without my permission.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz fanfic #skz angst #stray kids seo changbin #skz seo changbin #seo changbin #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin skz #changbin #skz #seo changbin angst #seo changbin fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #open requests #stray kids hurt/comfort #skz hurt/comfort

[his-angell]

I'll teach you. (l.m)

Plot; While (y/n) love summer, and all the activities that follow, Minho isn't much of a fan. She begs him to go swimming, in which he tries to use the excuse that he can't. But he gives in when she tells him that she'll teach him swim.

Paring; Lee Minho x fem!reader

Genre; Fluff

Word count; 1.1k

Warnings; None

Request?; No

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The summer has finally started to roll around. The comfortable 65 degrees turned into an uncomfortable 90. While some people dreaded it, (y/n) adored it. She loved all the activities that followed with summer. Swimming, popsicles, barbecues. She thought it was so fun. She also loved the warmer nights. Being able to sit out and stargaze without being too cold. 

Right now, it was 92 degrees outside, perfect for a swim. She had spent the last month cleaning and preparing the pool in the backyard. (y/n) hopped down the hall and plopped down beside Minho, who was on the couch on his phone. He looked up at his lover and smiled softly. “Hey, babes.” He said. He looked back to his phone. (y/n) giggled. “Hi,” She pecked a kiss to his cheek. “Let's go swimming! It's really nice outside for it,” She grinned, shaking his shoulder a little.

While his girlfriend loved summer, Minho dreaded it. He hated sweating, it made him feel gross. Besides, when he was hot, he always got lightheaded and sick. He found the summer awful. Temperature wise. Oh and swimming. He would say he liked it.. If he even knew how to. 

Minho laughed nervously. “Can’t we just relax today? It's nice and cool in here.” He wrapped his arm around the girl pulling her into his chest. (y/n) hummed and shook her head a little, tracing shapes on the males black t-shirt. “Noo! I wanna swim! Come on, pleasee!!” She begged. She looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. Minho tried to avoid her eyes, knowing he would fall for them. “But you know I can’t swim, babe..” He sighed. “I’ll teach you!! Come on! Up! Up!” (y/n) grinned and jumped up, dragging his arm. Minho snickered a little, finally giving in, but only because she was so cute. 

They headed to their room to change. Minho didn’t really need to, he just slipped off his shirt, tossing it into the laundry bin. (y/n) stared at two different bathing suits, trying to decide which one she wanted to wear. They were both two pieces, but they had different designs. One was a pretty lavender, the other was white with small lemons on it. She huffed before just deciding on the purple one. She changed and stepped out of the closet. She giggled sheepishly as she hugged her stomach. It's not like Minho hand’t seen her before, but she still got nervous.

Minho was giving attention to Dory, who laid on the bed beside him. He looked up when the closet door opened. He blinked a few times before smiling. “You're so gorgeous,” He said. “You really think so?” (y/n) tilted her head softly. Minho nodded and waved her over. She shuffled over to him. He gently removed her arms from her stomach, holding her waist. He kissed all over her stomach. (y/n) giggled and pushed away his head. “Stoppp” She giggled some more, the tickles from the kisses lingering on her skin. “Come on, dingus,” She tapped below his chin and headed out to the backyard. 

Minho rolled his eyes. He gave Dory a kiss on the head before following her out. He frowned when he stepped outside. He peaked around. “(y/n)?” He spoke, looking for the missing female. (y/n) grinned as she hid on the side of the door, where Minho couldn’t have seen her when he exited. She ran out and pushed him into the pool, giggling loudly before jumping in after him. Minho had screamed, flailing as he fell into the cool water. He shot up, coughing and pushing his hair from his face. “Yahh!! (y/n)!!” He yelled. The female laughed loudly, covering her mouth. “I’m gonna kill you!” Minho rushed at her, tackling her into the water. 

(y/n) squirmed a bit under the water. She opened her eyes, blinking them a few times to get used to it. She grinned a little and reached up to tickle his tummy. Minho screeched and let go of her. (y/n) shot up, gasping a bit for air. She snickered. “I hate you..” He huffed, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I bet you do.” She nodded. “Okay, now, do you wanna learn how to swim or not?” She grinned. Minho huffed and squinted at her. “Fine. Yes,” He nodded. “Good. Go grab that floaty over there.” She pointed. Minho followed and reached out of the pool to grab the ring. He slipped it over his head, putting his arms through it as well. 

He waddled back over to his girlfriend. She smiled at him. “Okay, good,” She grabbed his hands gently. “While I pull you, I want you to kick your feet. Don't kick too hard, but enough to push yourself.” She explained. She began to walk backwards, pulling Minho along with. Minho started to kick his feet, the water splashing up a bit. He grinned as he started to get it. “This isn’t too bad,” He said as he started to get the hang of it. “Good! Okay, now, without the floaty, hm?” (y/n) nodded to him. 

Minho stood back up and slipped out of the ring. He pushed it away. “Wait! But what if i drown?” He grabbed her hand dramatically. “You won’t drown, Minho. Besides, I'll keep you up, don't worry,” She reassured. He nodded a small bit. (y/n) move to his side and held her arms out. “Okay, now float up,” She helped him, keeping her arms bllow his chest. She helped him stay afloat. “I hate it!” He whined and tried to stand again. “No! Minho, hey, kick your feet and use your arms.” (y/n) instructed. 

Minho whined. He slowly started to use his arms, moving his legs also. His eyes widened a bit as he started to move. (y/n) stayed close beside him, keeping her arms below his chest. “Good..” She mumbled, focused on keeping him afloat. He was in the water sure, but he was still kinda heavy. But she was strong enough to hold without much struggle. 

After a little more while of practicing, Minho was able to swim on his own. “Yayy!! I’m so proud of you, Min!!” (y/n) cheered. She clapped her hands and giggled at her boyfriend, who doggy paddled around the pool. He had a proud look on his face. He giggled. He swam up to his lover before standing up. He held her waist gently. “Thank you, my love.” He smiled. “Of course, handsome.” (y/n) giggled. Minho pecked her lips.

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This is such a silly thing that i wrote. I'm not sure if i like it or not, but i needed to post sum. i thought this was acute idea, since its summer. ALSO OMG GUYS, the new album s sosos good! anywayss! i hope you guys liked this storyy!! stay safe, loves! i hope you have a good day/night!!

all writing rights reserved to @his-angell do not repost or translate my work without permission.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #skz fluff #stray kids lee minho #stray kids lee know #stray kids minho #skz minho #skz lee minho #skz lee know #lee know #lee minho #minho #minho fluff #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz #open requests

[his-angell]

Invisible thread

pairing : minho x reader

genre : university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies because they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst.

warnings : reader has a very bad relationship with her mother, insecurities, talk about murder but as a joke, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

summary : Your studies were your lifeline for as long as you can remember. What happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

word count : 20k

Author's note : I've been working on this fic on and off for the past two months, so if you do enjoy reading, please let me know. asks, comments, reblogs i read them all and they truly make me the happiest <3 (also i based this off my own college experience, where we study two terms and there is one person on top of the class every semester)

You have always been first in your class.

Not because you particularly enjoyed studying. You simply felt that your worth was solely tied to the marks on your papers.

You never wanted to crumble under the pressure of studies, to hole yourself up in your room for an assignment you won’t remember in a month. But achieving good grades was the only way for you to feel seen; to make someone stop in their tracks and acknowledge you. 

A simple “good job” that you preserved inside your mind, as a reminder that you did exist to other people. Considering that the majority of your life was spent in silence. 

Your mom put a roof above your head and food on your table, but she never asked about your day, nor did she seem to care. You felt as though you were no more important to her than the tapestry hanging on your wall.

At times, you imagined that if you stood close enough to that tapestry, you could merge with it as one. The intricate embroidery would wrap around you and draw you in. And your mother wouldn’t notice. She would regard you with the same indifference she showed towards that textile- a mere decoration, at times a nuisance when she had to dust it.

You always ate your dinner alone. When you scraped your knee, you tended to the wound by yourself. No one attended your childhood musicals, and you patted your back when you cracked an egg without dropping a shell into the bowl. 

You’ve come to learn since your young age that all your milestones, both small and significant, would be celebrated alone. 

On the rare times your mother would acknowledge your presence, she’d unleash a flurry of criticism your way as if she was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to strike you down. She'd toss crude comments over her shoulder as easily as a casual hello, leaving you feeling battered and bruised in her wake. 

You felt as if you were shoreline rocks, and your mother was the ocean. You never knew if she would be like a gentle tide, barely brushing against you, or an enraged storm, mercilessly crashing down on your being. And you weren't sure which one was worse: to be invisible or to be seen and despised.  

That’s why you grew up plagued with self-doubt. You made friends throughout your school years but you never allowed them to get close enough to really see you -you feared that they might glimpse the very thing your mother seemed to despise in you. 

Throughout your childhood, you were like soft clay in your mother's hands- pliable, and easy to mold. And she indented you, everywhere, carved in edges and dips where they should not have been ones. Handled you roughly when you should have been treated with care. And as the years went by, you hardened- much like clay, but her touch remained imprinted upon you. It was difficult at times to discern who you were and who she made you to be.

You tried to start anew when you went away to university; to rewire your brain into believing that you were enough- you exist and you shouldn't prove to anyone that you deserved to be alive. But her words haunted you, they were like skeletons in your closet- but the closet was you. You could never part from them.

So, you fell back into the same pattern of seeking good grades and congratulatory words from your professors. Every A+ you got infused you with a momentary sense of worthiness.

But unlike in high school, you weren't always the best. Your competition came in the form of a single man named Minho, who seemed to excel in every class you shared.

Minho was mostly quiet, but whenever he spoke, you found that his words carried weight. Your professors consistently agreed with his points, and you envied the confidence he exuded. You wondered what it must feel like to be so sure of oneself.

It wasn't until a month into the year that you had your first interaction with Minho. You were in your Constitutional Law class when your professor Kim brought up the notion of ‘Separation of Powers’. You were arguing that judges shouldn’t be included in the writings of law when you heard a scoff from the row behind you. You turned around, raising a brow at the culprit, "Is there something you’d like to say?" you asked.

And in response, Minho smiled lazily, an air of smugness surrounding him, "I just don’t agree." The professor urged him to explain himself, so he leaned back into his chair, eyeing you. "Judges are the ones who practice the law every day, and sometimes they find that none of the written texts fit their case. If they get involved in lawmaking, they can help address those gaps or uncertainties." 

"Who's to say that those judges aren’t biased or politically motivated? They’ll end up writing laws to fit their own preferences," you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. "We elect judges to interpret and apply laws, not make them. If they start writing laws too, we'll be violating the separation of powers between the legislative and judicial branches. That's what keeps our entire system from crumbling."

Minho rested his chin on his hand, tapping his cheek thoughtfully with his index finger. "Aren’t legislators prone to biases too? Your point doesn’t stand then," he challenged, tilting his head to the side, "and judges can participate without going overboard. They can provide input on proposed laws without actually drafting them. That way, we ensure that the laws are crafted with a clear understanding of how they'll be put into practice." 

"If your main concern is to ensure that the laws are impartial, we have people who work as consulting experts whose job is exactly that," you flashed him an innocent smile, firing back. "Also, wouldn’t these overstepping branches put the judges in a position to be perceived in a bad light? Is that what you want?"

Before Minho could respond, Mr. Kim intervened, putting an end to your debate, "Let's save this energy for your essays and see who can convince me more."

You gave a quick nod, swiveling in your seat without a backward glance. However, you could sense Minho’s gaze penetrating through your back- as if he was trying to read your most intimate thoughts. 

That was the first thing you noticed about Minho when he walked over to you. His eyes were brown, not a special color by any means. But they held a certain depth to them that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. You weren't sure what you would find on the other side, nor did you have any desire to find out.

He outstretched his hands towards you, stopping you in your tracks. "Minho," he introduced and your hand met his in a firm grip. The second thing you noticed about him was the coldness of his hand, as it wrapped tightly around your palm. 

Suddenly you were taken back to when you built a snowman for the first and last time. You were just seven and the ice was freezing, numbing your fingers as you worked. Your mother never told you that you should’ve worn mittens, or a thick jacket to fight off the cold when she saw you walking out of the house. The memory of your cold hands and the horrible illness that followed still left a bitter taste in your mouth, like an unripe fruit. With a jolt you dropped his hand, forcefully pulling yourself away from that memory. 

"Yn," you said back, and he smiled to himself, repeating your name slowly, each syllable dripping from his tongue.  

"We'll see who'll write the best essay, right?" he asked, clearly challenging you. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes that reminded you of a child gazing up at cotton candy. 

That was the third thing you noticed about Minho; how expressive his eyes were. They moved with his every word, punctuating them. 

He was infuriating but also amusing. You've never had a clear competitor in your life. Or maybe you had, but you didn't notice them. You were always so reclined on yourself, trying to survive the day, you didn't pay enough attention to your surroundings.

"You want to compete with me?" You asked, and he smirked, leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. "What? Scared you’d lose?"

"Please." You rolled your eyes at his taunting, "Don’t come crying when I win."

"We’ll see about that!" He shouted after you as you walked ahead, leaving him behind.

This essay was insignificant. A simple way for your professor to assess your knowledge and work approach. And yet, you found yourself staying up all night to complete it. There was no way you were going to let Minho take this one thing from you.

Who were you if not the best in your studies? You were deathly afraid to find out. 

Later on that week, the professor handed you your grade back, 98%. You turned around to show Minho your mark, and so did he. You surpassed him, only by mere percents. "I told you so," you smiled cheekily and he pouted, holding a hand to his heart as if your grade wounded him.

"I'll beat you next time", he mouthed and you chuckled, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

✹✹✹

The first time you studied with Minho was in a cat café near campus, called Limbo, about two weeks after your initial interaction. You stumbled upon it serendipitously while strolling through your university town. You couldn’t study at home, since you were easily distracted in there, and the eerie silence of libraries often left you unsettled.

Limbo, however, offered the perfect middle-ground: it was calm, not overly crowded, and the buzzing of the coffee machine blended harmoniously with the occasional mewls of cats, which helped you concentrate better. 

You were sitting in a secluded corner table at the café's back, a sleeping black cat comfortably nestled in your lap when you sensed a shadow loom over you. You glanced up quickly to find Minho. He was clad in a grey hoodie sporting a bunny holding up its middle finger. You had to bite your cheek to suppress a grin at his clothing attire.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

"You know for someone smart you sure ask stupid questions," you remarked, already looking down at the papers scattered in front of you.

He huffed, taking a seat at the table right next to yours, "I can’t believe that of all places you’ve found this café to study in."

"My apologies, am I disturbing you, your highness?" You asked sarcastically, and in retort, Minho mimicked your words in a high-pitched tone. You threw the pillow right next to you at his head, and Minho swiftly ducked, easily avoiding it. He chuckled loudly while you glared at his laughing figure. That was the end of your conversation that day. 

From that moment forward, it became a routine for the two of you to study at Limbo, every Saturday, without fault. You didn’t explicitly plan on it, but it seemed that both of you found it comforting to work there. And you could also tell that, unlike you, it wasn’t Minho’s first time coming to Limbo. He was friends with the owner, a sweet middle-aged man who offered you pastries whenever you stayed there until closing. The cats seemed to know him too, they mewled at his feet whenever he entered and he always greeted them with a soft smile on his face. 

You didn’t talk much in those unofficial study sessions, the both of you were consumed by your own work. But you’d steal quick glances at him every now and then, the sight of him so concentrated only fueled you to work harder.

Admittedly, your competition left you feeling anxious for days on end at first. Each time Minho came out on top, you’d found yourself losing your grip. Your studies have been the one anchor keeping you afloat your entire life, and now, Minho was ripping it carelessly away from you. So, you resented him- you were human after all.

But then, you realized that Minho’s taunting wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t competing with you to hurt you, he was doing it for amusement only.

You've slowly started to learn that despite his relentless teasing, Minho had a gentle aura surrounding him. Glimpses of which occasionally emerged like rays of sunshine piercing through a thick cloud cover.

True, he chuckled when you accidentally bumped your head on the table while retrieving a fallen pen. Yet, you also noticed how he began to cover the table's corners with his hand whenever you bent down. He swiftly retracted his hand, seemingly believing you didn't notice, but you did.

During class presentations, he deliberately prepared challenging questions for you, urging you to study twice as hard to ensure no stone was left unturned. Yet, whenever the professor praised your performance, Minho offered a subtle thumbs-up as a gesture of support. He winked at you each time he got the right answer and you didn’t. However, when he noticed you struggling with a particular subject, he scooted closer and patiently explained it to you. He got up before you could thank him, swatting his arm in the air as if he didn’t do anything of significance. 

To show your appreciation, you bought him a drink that day he helped you—a simple gesture that sparked an ongoing game of "win a bet, get free food". You bet on who would receive the first mark on an assignment or who would finish an essay first- anything to further deepen the competition between you.

That's how you came to know that he loved puddings, among other things.

Curiously, as the months went by, your mind began to retain these little details about him. How his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings when he blinked repeatedly during your conversations. How he glanced at the ceiling when lost in deep thought as if he was waiting for the answers to descend from the sky. Or how his lips take on the shape of an "o" while thinking of his response during one of your many debates. But you supposed that it was natural to take notice of such things when you spend countless Saturday afternoons with the same person.

You were still studying for someone else, in the sense that each time you stayed up working, it was solely to prove your worth to Minho. But at least unlike your mother, Minho's words never haunted you at night.

✹✹✹

Just like that, four months have gone by since you joined your university as a law major. It was nearing finals week and you were preparing it at Limbo. Minho was naturally present too, at his usual table right next to yours.

On the last weekend before the beginning of your finals, you were head-deep into your Criminal Law documents when Minho abruptly got up from his seat and settled in the chair in front of you.

"Yn," he whispers and you glance at him, "What?" 

"I have an idea."

"Keep it to yourself," you grin sarcastically, only for him to pick up your spoon and move it around in a threatening manner.

"Are you trying to scare me with a spoon?" you chuckle in disbelief.

 "Anything can be a weapon if you use enough force."

"Okay… that was creepy. What do you want?"

"The end of the first term is coming up. So, to celebrate our little rivalry-"

"It's not a rivalry if I’m always winning," you cut him off.

"Yeah, that’s why I have a fridge full of pudding."

"But-"

"Anyways, how about the top of the class takes the other out for dinner? A fancy one." He suggests, his gaze fixed on you.

"No, thank you. I already see you enough in classes."

"Didn’t think you wouldn’t up for a bet. Guess I was wrong," he remarks, a cheeky smile drawn on his lips. He knows you couldn’t possibly say no now.  

"Fine," you roll your eyes at his proud expression. "Prepare your wallet." 

"Mm, sure," he responds, before rising from his seat once more.

That day, you both lost track of time as you studied in Limbo until it closed down. When you finally stepped outside, stretching your tired limbs, you were met with the sight of falling snowflakes.

"Nooo, go away. I don't want to watch the first snow with you," Minho whines, referring to the superstition that watching the first snowfall with someone could spark love between the two of you. 

"As if I could ever love you," you laugh at the ridiculous idea, "that’d just be signing a death warrant."

You resume walking towards your apartment when suddenly something freezing and hard hits your back with enough force to make you stagger. Turning around slowly, you find Minho erupting in laughter, his body filled with uncontainable joy. He’s jumping and clapping excitedly, and for a fleeting moment, you can’t decide if your shock was from the impact or from how beautiful happiness looks on him. 

Snapping out of your daze, you swiftly retaliate by scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at him. "Now you are cold too!" you shout, while he’s still laughing uncontrollably. 

Thus begins an impromptu snowball fight between the two of you. Unsurprisingly, you’re being competitive in this too, trying your best to strike each other before the other could recover. But Minho draws nearer to you, and in your desperation to win, you fall to the ground when he throws a snowball at your chest, gasping as if you’re in pain.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Minho quickly kneels in front of you, concern evident in his voice. It surprises you for a moment- how worried he seems at the prospect of causing you pain.

But you shake that thought off and push him down to the ground, a proud smile on your face. In his fall, Minho instinctively reaches for you to steady himself, which ends up with you landing on top of him. Your faces are mere inches apart, and a soft gasp escapes your mouth at your sudden proximity.

Minho has a mole on his nose. You’ve never noticed that before. 

You quickly push yourself off of him, not enjoying being this close to somebody. "Why did you drag me down with you?" you grumble, shaking off the snow from your hair.

"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes," he cheekily stuck out his tongue, and you respond with the same childlike gesture before the both of you burst into loud laughter. The sound reverberates through your entire being, and it echoes in your mind long after the two of you go your separate ways.  

As you lay in bed that night, ready to drift off to sleep, a quiet realization dawns on you. This was the first time you've touched snow in since your childhood incident.

That unpleasant memory didn't cross your mind once. Instead, all you thought about was Minho’s infectious laughter, and the surprising warmth it stirred within you.

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

True to his words, Minho texted you the name of the restaurant where you’d both meet to celebrate your win. As you got ready for your outing, you couldn’t help the nerves creeping up on you. Studying in silence next to Minho was something, going to a friendly dinner with him was another. You feared it would be too awkward and Minho would regret ever proposing such a thing.

So, as you sit in the refined BBQ restaurant waiting for him, you fidget with your hands, counting down to three in your head in an attempt to steady your breathing.

You were clearly not accustomed to existing with Minho outside of the confines of your studies.

"Did you wait long?" Minho asks as he finally pulls the chair in front of you and you shake your head no.

"Are you nervous?" he chuckles at your lack of words, and you frown, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why would I be nervous? This isn't a date."

"Who said anything about a date?" he smirks and you grab your fork threateningly, pointing it at him, "Don't say anything stupid or I will walk out."

"And stand me up on our first date? That's too mean.” He pouts, a hand on his heart and you can’t help but giggle at his antics. You were ridiculous for being nervous. This was Minho, the one person you’ve talked to the most since the start of this year. 

"What will you have?" he asks and you smile mischievously.

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

"Well, it's certainly not for your company," you wink and he chuckles, his bunny teeth on full display. 

"And here I thought we were going to be civil with each other."

"When are we ever not?" you gasp dramatically and Minho swats your hand with the menu. "Just order whatever," you finally answer," I trust your food judgment."

"I could poison you, you know?" He smiles proudly and you roll your eyes at him, "Can’t you be normal, for once?"

Minho calls over the waiter and places your orders. The food is quick to arrive and Minho starts to grill up the meat, while you cut the Kimchi into smaller pieces. 

"Here," he puts the perfectly cooked rib onto your plate first and you smile at him, "Thank you."

"Eat up, don’t wait for me," he tells you and you nod, tasting the flavorful meat.

"Wow this is really good," you compliment and he smirks proudly at your words, "I know."

Minho places four other ribs for you, without eating one himself. You start to feel bad, so you grab his chopsticks, pick up the meat, and move it toward his mouth, "Open up."

"What?" He asks confused and you wave the food in front of his face, "Come on, you haven’t eaten anything."

Minho parts his lips slowly, and you feed the tender meat to him, before eating one yourself. You notice how his cheeks are slightly tinted pink now, and you account it to the intense heat of the grill.

"Oh, let's not talk about studies, my brain can't take another debate with you," you tell Minho in between bites and he grins at you, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "If you were to dispose of a body, how would you do it?"

"I think our next celebration will be in an asylum." you smile too sweetly at him and he stares at you pointedly, "Please, I know you've already thought about it."

"Fine. Probably in a deserted land. What about you?"

"I'd cut their bodies and then bury each part in a different forest. In a different city."

His answer came too quickly, and you pause in your tracks, "Should I be worried?"

"You are too cute to kill." His tone is sarcastic and you make a show of gushing at his compliment, clasping both of your hands in front of your heart, "Growing soft on me, Minho?" 

"Yeah, I’m basically sooo in love with you," he replies with a smirk and you roll your eyes at him, an amused smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"What's your favorite color?" you finally ask, changing the subject.

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll buy me purple flowers?" He coos at you and you shake your head as you grab the utensil from his hand, to grill the meat your turn. 

"No. I'll paint your tombstone purple," you grin and he laughs loudly, eyes squinted close, and you can't find it in you to care that the people next to you are staring. 

"What's yours?" he asks when he calms down and you shrug, "Navy blue, I think."

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

"When you look at it, at first glance, it looks like black. But the more you stare at it, the more layers you uncover. Just like you. There’s more to you than what meets the eye."

You grab your glass of water, gulping it down to hide the way your eyes just glossed over. You suddenly felt bare in front of Minho. How did he know?

You clear your throat, racking your brain for a way to move on from that question. "If you were to describe colors to a blind person, how would you do it?"

"Mm," he looks up at the ceiling as he mulls over your question, "I’d say that yellow is the feeling of eating ice cream on a sunny day, in an amusement park. Your fingers are sticky but your cheeks ache from how much you smiled that day."

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

"I’d say that... Red is the thrill that rushes through your veins when you do something you are passionate about, you know? It’s what makes our blood boil and our heart race. The very essence of our humanity."

Minho smiles softly at your words, seemingly agreeing with your description. "Don’t you think it would be easier if we simply asked, what color are you feeling today, instead of a 'How are you'?" He questions and you tilt your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you could say, I feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to. Or, I feel bright yellow as if the world's energy is stored inside me."

"And right now, how do you feel?"

"I feel orange, not the ugly orange." He precises and you chuckle, "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean."

"A bittersweet orange, an ending that instantly strings along a new beginning. And you don't have time to rest."

Minho places his chin on his palm, eyeing you curiously, "Is that what you want? To rest?"

"Yeah." You admit quietly, "Don't you sometimes wish that the world would just stop, for a few seconds? Just like in a song, right before the beat drops. That silence, I wish I could live inside of it."

"I do too."

You both hold each other’s gaze for a while after that. You felt as if he was keeping you captive with his brown eyes, and he was slowly peeling each of your layers, in silence, as you were peeling his. For the first time, you think that you and he are similar, more than on a studies level. There was a part of his soul that understood yours perfectly. And it felt good, to be understood, for once.

"If you lived in this silence, what would you be doing?" he asks, breaking the serene quiet that surrounded you.

"I’d open a café that had books. And there'd be a little space, where people could paint. Or do pottery. And I’d have cats in there too." You reply excitedly, hands moving around in the air, you end up missing the way Minho gazes fondly at you before his smile morphs into a smirk.

"Please tell me you won't be cooking."

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

"You dance?!" you whisper-shout and he frowns at the surprised look on your face. 

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like this?"

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

"No." he cuts you off immediately and you pout. 

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

"Please, I won't make a sound I’d just watch. Pinky promise.” He grabs your now outstretched pinky with the tip of his index and thumb, lowering it down. 

"I’d only grant you this wish when you’re on your deathbed."

"Bold of you to assume you'd still be around."

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

Minho chuckles at the crestfallen look on your face, "I’ll think about it."

Just like that, three hours of talking have gone by, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. And when you finally leave the restaurant, Minho grabs you a cab and you wave him off with a smile. You couldn't lie to yourself, you had a really good time with him. You liked to think that Minho was no longer just a rival, but a possible friend.

But now that you were laying in your bed, you couldn’t help but curse Minho in your brain. His repetitive talk about murder made you paranoid, and now every creak in your apartment made you feel as if death was really right around the corner. 

You decide to text him, figuring that if you couldn’t sleep because of him, you could at least disturb him for a bit. 

Yn : I hate you I'm paranoid from your murder talk

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

Suddenly your phone rings, the shrill sound echoing around your apartment. It was a Facetime call from Minho. You panic for a few seconds, before remembering that you just spent your entire night with him. A call can’t be more daunting than a real-life meeting. 

"See, I’m in my home," he tells you as soon as you pick up and you laugh.

"It's pitch black, I can't see."

"Just say you miss my face." You can’t see him but you can clearly hear the proud grin in his voice. 

"What's there to miss?"

"Are you actually scared?" Minho asks gently and you clear your throat, feeling ridiculous all of the sudden. 

"There is a tree right outside my window and it keeps rustling from the wind," you grumble and Minho laughs at you. 

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Close your eyes.” He instructs and you frown at his words. 

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

"Fine.” You close your eyes tentatively. It’s quiet for a few seconds and you feel yourself relax slightly. 

"So, I bought a sous-vide machine and-"

"Is your bedtime story going to be about meat?"

"Yes?” He replies as if it’s an evidence, “Now be quiet." You pretend to zip your mouth and Minho faintly giggles, before resuming his story. "So, I was saying. I bought one and I wanted to experience different kinds of meats. So, I bought a 30-day aged one and a 58-day aged one and I cooked them both."

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

"Just garlic, and thyme, I didn't want to overpower the taste of meat. Anyways I cooked them, but I didn't have plastic bags so I had to go out and buy them."

"Mm," you hum in acknowledgment. You could feel your nerves slowly dissipate with Minho's every word. His story might be ridiculous but his honey-coated voice compensated for it, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. 

"And I found pudding there so I had to buy it."

"Obviously," you whisper. Sleep was knocking on your door, but paradoxically you tried to fight it off. You wanted to hear the rest of Minho’s story. 

"And I went back home and I cooked it, then I plated it nicely with vegetables that I sauteed with butter and garlic. Just mushrooms and potatoes, nothing too fancy. Again, my main focus was the meat. But there wasn't a difference between the two. They tasted the same for me, for some reason. And I didn't like this because the aged one was very expensive. Maybe I was scammed. Honestly, that butcher looked kind of suspicio..."

Your quiet snores make Minho pause in his tracks, and he laughs quietly. You did end up falling asleep. He can't see your face clearly, but he can see its outline and he stares at you for a while. You look peaceful.

He goes to hang up but his finger hovers over the 'end call' button. You aren't talking, but your hums are quiet enough that they fill up the space around him. It calms him down, and he lets his head fall on the pillow, his phone lying beside him.

He closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on. 

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

The second semester had just started and with it the return of frat parties. You were excited at the prospect of going to one with your new friend Mina. You met her in the library when you both went to grab the same book. You quickly apologized but she waved you off, handing you the book with a huge smile on her face. She was bubbly, like a human serotonin boost, and she started gushing about how much she loved the author. You saw her again in the campus cafeteria, and she skipped towards you as if you've both known each other your entire life. That was the start of your friendship.

You walk into the frat house, both your arms encircling each other. The flashing lights of the party blind you for a moment, and it takes you a while to adjust to the loud music bouncing off of the walls. But you like it, it was like a shield from the outside world and its problems. 

You feel yourself letting loose in the crowd, swaying your hips to the music. Mina spins you around and you laugh, dancing with no care in the world. It was just the both of you in that instant. 

Mina spots Jeongin in the crowd, a friend of hers that she had an immense crush on. You couldn’t blame her- he was very attractive; his easy smirk and his blonde tousled hair earned him lots of appreciative looks from the people around him. But when his eyes locked with Mina’s, you found that his face morphed into a beautiful smile, that made his dimples look on full display, as if it was only reserved for her.

“Go get your man!” You shout in her ears, so she’d be able to hear you. 

“What are you talking about?” She yells back, but you could see the nervous smile on her face.

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone. We came together!” She clasps your hand in hers and you smile touched by her kind spirit.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the kitchen to get some drinks. Go have fun!”

“You are sure?” She asks, her eyes darting between you and Jeongin, who was still looking at her, and her only. 

“Yes! Go!” You say, gently pushing her away. Mina jogs up to Jeongin who greets her with a side hug. He quickly glances at you and you shoot him a thumbs-up, to which he grins. You loved playing Cupid.

With that, you decide to head to the kitchen to grab a drink. You pick a beer from the fridge, double-checking if the can is closed before opening it. 

You lean on the countertop, sipping on your drink while you watch the crowd, humming along each time a song you knew played. You enjoyed watching people dance freely from afar, with no apparent care in the world.

You feel someone stand next to you and you brace yourself, getting ready to tell the person off if they decide to bother you. You didn’t have the energy for mindless flirting. But then, you smell the cologne that has lingered around you for the past term- Minho. You haven't seen him since your dinner. That was a month ago.

"Fancy seeing you here," he greets as he leans on the counter right next to you, his eyes fixated on the mingling bodies.

You turn around to face him, faking an outraged gasp, "Are you following me?"

"Mmm. You look nice", he compliments and you smile cheekily, "I know."

"Won't tell me I look nice too?" he smirks, leaning closer to your face. "Someone didn’t get enough compliments tonight?" You pout, placing a hand on your heart in mock concern.

"I did, but I want to hear it from you. You’re the only sensible person in this room."

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

"Come on, I know you can do better than that", he jokes and you roll your eyes, muttering “You’re annoying”, under your breath.

Still, you comply, placing your arms on top of the counter and leaning your head on them to get a better look at him. He does the same, smiling, and you both stare at each other for a while after that.

The strobing lights dance on Minho’s face, casting enticing shadows on him. You've always known he was a beautiful man; you've looked into his eyes far too many times in your heated conversations. But this time was different, there was no cheeky smirk on his face nor a furrow in his eyebrows. He was simply looking at you, and it made a pool of warmth huddle in your belly. You feel yourself relax under his gaze, everything around you seemingly melts away.

You weren’t wrong when you thought that his eyes were like a black hole, pulling you in. But this time, you realize that you didn’t mind knowing what was on the other side. On the contrary, you longed for it. 

"I like your eyes right now. They remind me of the night sky. Black, with tiny little stars littered in them," you finally say.

Minho is taken aback by your words, he wasn't expecting you to compliment him, let alone to tell him something so special. He can feel his cheeks burn red at your words, feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's afraid you can hear it too.

He doesn't know what to say, so instead he clears his throat, plastering a smirk on his face, "I heard better." He hasn't. This is the first genuine compliment he's ever gotten.

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh and he joins you. The music was loud and yet the only sound his ear seemed to pick up was your laugh.

"Are you here alone?" He asks, and you shake your head no, "Came with my friend Mina."

"Did she leave you by yourself?" He frowns and you feel yourself warm up at his worried tone. "I told her to go talk to Jeongin."

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

“Fine, Dad.” You chastise and he stares pointedly at you, "I’m serious, yn."

You take another swing of the beer before turning your body fully towards Minho. After a few beats of silence, you finally ask a question that has been on your mind for a while. "Why do you say my name this way?"

"What way?" He questions and you shrug, "Slowly. People used to always rush it but you don’t."

"Well, it’s a pretty name. It deserves to be pronounced as a whole."

You beam at his words; you smile so brightly it makes his heart skip a beat. This is the first time you’ve grinned this widely at him, no hand in front of your mouth as if to hide it. He did notice how you were a reserved person outside of class, as if you were afraid of taking up too much place. But he could tell you were slowly unraveling, growing bolder with each passing month. He wanted to tell you that if people like you spoke more, the world would be a far better place. 

But he couldn't bring himself to say all of this, so he forced those bubbling words down his throat. "I’m hungry," he whines instead and you laugh at his pout. "I'm kind of craving a greasy pizza."

"Should we go buy it? You can tell Mina to come so we can walk her back."

"I’ll ask her."

You shoot Mina a text, asking her where she was and telling her about your plan. She replies that she’s with Jeongin who just offered to take her home, so you could leave without her.

"We can go." You tell him and he nods. Minho shrugs his leather jacket off, gently placing it on your shoulders. His warmth engulfs you and you sink further into it. His arm hovers around your shoulder not touching you as he leads you out of the party. He has never touched your body, you note, it's like he was everywhere and nowhere at once.

You both walk to an open parlor near the frat house, and you order a Margarita pizza to share. You sit down on a nearby bench to eat it- the night breeze too liberating to pass up on.

As you both finish eating, a cat with white and orange stripes all over her body approaches the both of you cautiously, and you pat her head softly. "Aren't you the cutest thing ever?" you coo and Minho chuckles as he scratches the cat’s chin. She purrs at his touch appreciatively, and you smile at the soft look on his face. 

"Never knew you to be this gentle", you giggle and Minho shushes you, "Let's not do this in front of the cat."

"Why are you acting as if we are a divorced couple and she’s our child."

"Easy, yn. You make it sound as if you want me to marry you."

"Now you're just projecting," you chastise and he laughs, eliciting giggles from you. He had a melodic laugh, you noticed, and you always felt a surge of pride whenever you made him close his eyes and tip his head from laughter. You felt as if it's a sight only you can see.

"I have three cats", he says softly and you gasp, "Really? We spent all of our Sundays in a cat café and this is when you tell me?"

"I only tell my friends."

"So we're friends now?" You gush and he rolls his eyes at you, "I take it back."

"What’s their names?" You ask curiously and his eyes soften at your question- you could easily tell he loved them dearly.

"Soongie, Doongie, and Dori. They are rescues."

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

"Most of my scars come from them though," he chuckles but you sober up at his words, quietly scratching the cat's ears.

"What’s on your mind?" He asks and you glance at him. It was scary how well he’s starting to know you. But it was also nice; to be known is to exist, after all.

"I just... Sometimes I wish that memories would leave physical scars on you. Because at least then, you could treat them, put a band-aid on, and watch them fade away day by day. Because when the scars are emotional, you can’t treat them, you know? And someday someone brings up a name or a place, or you smell a certain scent, and suddenly they reopen as if no time has gone by at all.”

Minho stays silent for a while, mulling over your words. You don't mind, you weren't expecting him to comfort you. You just needed to free those words from the mental prison you've held them in for so long.

"Do you know Kintsugi?" he finally asks and you shake your head no.

"It's a Japanese art. They put back together broken vases with molten gold. It represents strength despite our flaws."

"That sounds nice," you sigh wistfully and he nods. 

"It is. When you look at that vase, you know that it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty, on the contrary, it adds to it. Scars, whether they are emotional or physical are there for a reason. They remind us of how we pushed through whatever life threw at us."

"Am I supposed to be grateful I survived this?" You chuckle lowly, as your hand scratches the cat’s ear. Your fingers brush against Minho’s and you hesitate for a few seconds before moving them away.

"I wouldn't say grateful for what you went through," he speaks once again, "but grateful to yourself. At the end of the day, the reason why you're still here is you. You put yourself back together," he then bumps his elbow into your side softly, "and hey, even if your scars reopen there will come a time when they wouldn’t anymore. Sometimes, it takes a while to be okay again."

This was Minho’s way of telling you that someday it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That someday you’d be okay. And you needed to hear that. You needed to hear someone else other than yourself tell you that.

"Thank you, Minho, I needed that", you smile at him and he grins back at you before his smile turns to a smirk. "I charge 15 dollars for the hour by the way."

"Oh, come on! You didn't even say something revolutionary." You are lying. Minho's words will echo in your mind long after this night- a beacon of light to hold onto.

"Oh, so now it’s no longer ‘I needed that’. Tsk," he jokes a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Therapist. I’ll pay for your coffee tomorrow, sounds good?"

"I should have you as my client more often," he winks and you laugh, head tipped back. You were grateful more than ever for his teasing, loving how it wasn’t awkward between you after your discussion.

"You are a good listener." You tell him as you stand up, dusting your pants.

"I’m good at everything," he grins cheekily at you and you roll your eyes playfully, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

You both start walking side by side toward your home when Minho speaks again. His tone is quiet as if he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear him. "About earlier, your compliment, I mean. I suppose I didn't thank you. So, thank you," he scratches the tip of his ears and you shrug nonchalantly. "It's the truth. You might get on my ass but that doesn't change the fact you are a pretty man."

He doesn’t respond and you tug at the sleeve of his shirt playfully, "You won't tell me I’m pretty too?"

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

You laugh loudly, hand tightly clutching your stomach and he joins you. There is a newfound lightness in your steps now. Unbeknownst to him, Minho just managed to lift a small weight off your shoulders, allowing you a brief moment of respite.

"This is me," you say when you arrive in front of your apartment block, "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course. Don't dream of me."

"Idiot," you laugh waving him off and he does the same. "Oh, and text me when you get home safely!" you shout before heading inside.

For the second time this night, Minho is blushing profusely at your words. He sighs to himself, waiting patiently until a light turns on in your place to leave.

✹✹✹

It’s been two months since the start of the new term. You still went to Limbo, every Saturday with Minho- even when you didn’t need to study. 

Sometimes you’d just grab a book and you’d both read, a cat lazily lounging at your feet. You started sitting at the same table too; you figured it was easier since one of you always pays for the other. When you have a bet, but also randomly, when you notice that the other person is feeling down and you want to cheer them up without saying anything.

That's why you bought three bubble teas for Minho in a row. He was quieter these days, you noticed. He didn’t talk to you nor did he retort back in class. It was the first time you’ve seen him this way. As if he was a simple shell of the person he usually is. 

You were walking out of your Communications Strategies class, which Minho weirdly didn’t come to when you realized that it was pouring rain. You smile lightly to yourself, grateful since you thought about picking up an umbrella this morning. 

As you walk through campus, everyone around you running to take shelter, you spot someone sitting on a bench, completely drenched from the rain. Their head is hung low and you frown to yourself. They would surely get a cold if they stay there.

But then the person raises their head and you quickly realize it's Minho. You jog up to him instinctively, standing in front of him and shielding him from the rain with your umbrella.

He looks up at you and you feel your heart clench. His eyes are void of emotion and he stares blankly at you. "Are you okay?" you ask and he blinks at your words, as if his brain hadn't yet registered that you were there.

"Yeah."

"You don't look like it", you tilt your head to the side and he looks down again. You have to strain to hear his next words, muffled by the rain and his mumbling, "I don't want to talk, yn."

You decide to put away your umbrella and sit down next to him on the bench. The rain falls rapidly on both of you, and you feel yourself grow cold from it. 

"What are you doing?" He questions, turning to the side to look at you.

"Enjoying the rain. It is kind of stupid that we have umbrellas, right?"

"You'll catch a cold."

"I mean we always complain about the drought and then when it rains, we hide from it. But it's really beautiful."          

"Stop, I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go eat some soup. My treat."

"Yn, I don’t-"

"I thought you were smart enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

"But I-" you cut him off again. "Also, I’m doing this for me because when you order for two, they give you a lot of side dishes. Now come on."

You stand up and he looks doubtfully at you, before following suit. You open up the umbrella again and hold it over both of your heads. He has to huddle close to you, and your shoulders brush against each other. Once, twice. Not that you're keeping count. But your body is always hyper-aware of Minho’s proximity. You also notice how he silently moves from your right to your left, this way he's the one walking right next to the speeding cars. Your hold on the umbrella tightens. You were still not used to those small attentions of his. 

You arrive in front of your apartment block and he hesitates. "Come up, I won't murder you I promise." You joke and he smiles lightly back at your words. Progress.

He enters your dorm and you can see him eying his surroundings. You know that if it was another time, he would have teased you about something- anything. But he stays quiet, and you find yourself missing the sound of his voice.

"Would you like to shower?" You offer and he nods, "Please."

You lead him to your bathroom and show him where the washing machine is. "Put your clothes in there for a quick wash and dry. You can shower meanwhile."

He nods again as you hand him a towel. "I'll be outside."

You quickly leave the bathroom to place the soup orders, and Minho discards his wet clothes, walking into your shower. The water is piping hot, and he leans his forehead on the cold tiles. He doesn’t move for the first ten minutes, too tired at the prospect of lifting his limbs.

Nothing particular happened. But he’d go through days when he’d quiet down because everything around him was too much. The feel of his clothes against his skin, and the sun streaming through his curtains. But it always passes. Minho was a realistic man and he knew that his emotions would regulate themselves. That’s why he didn’t like appearing vulnerable in front of other people.

But for some reason, he didn’t mind lowering his guard with you. He knew you wouldn’t judge.

He sighs, grabbing your cherry-scented shampoo and pouring it into his hands. He can clearly smell you now. The scent of your hair that always tickles his nose, whenever you are sitting close to him. Your body wash is next and he wonders if this is how your skin smells, like vanilla and jasmine, and something entirely you. 

Forty minutes later, Minho finally steps out of the shower. His clothes are clean and he quickly puts them on. He dries his hair with the towel as he walks out of your bathroom towards the living room. 

He finds you sitting on the ground, in front of a heater that looks close to giving up. He makes a mental note of giving you the one he has since he doesn't really use it. You changed out of your clothes too, and you are now wearing a pair of pajamas with little bunnies sewn into it. The sight almost manages to make him smile. 

"Still cold?" you question when you notice him standing behind you, unmoving, and he shakes his head no.

"Good, the soup is here." You say cheerfully, pointing at the steaming bowls sitting on your table. Minho hums in reply and you stand up, grabbing the towel from his hands to place it on the drying rack.

You come back, a soft green blanket in your hands. You sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you. Minho sits next to you, and you lay the blanket on both of your laps, before handing him his soup.

You start the show you’ve been last watching, as you both eat in silence, your legs crisscrossed. You make some comments throughout the episodes. You figured that it was a safe territory, to talk about something as mundane as this. He didn't reply but you didn't mind. You weren't here to have a conversation with him. You just wanted to distract him.

You realize at that moment that Minho always looked so put together to you. But he had problems of his own too. That much was obvious. It made you feel closer to him, in a sense. You were both just trying to make it through the day.

Two hours later, you get up to grab a book, handing Minho the remote to put on a show of his own. You curl in a ball in the corner, reading where you left off last night.

"Can you... Can you read out loud?" Minho speaks for the first time in a while and you look at him. His eyes are closed, his head resting against your couch.

"Sure."

You start to read, and Minho further sinks into the couch. He feels at home here. Because the blanket is soft and the light is dim enough to not hurt his eyes. Or it could be that he smells like you, a scent so comforting he wants to bury himself in it. Or maybe it's your voice that floats through the air, slowly clouding Minho’s every sense. He feels as if he could see the words you were pronouncing dancing in front of his eyes. You enunciated each syllable clearly, making sure that no sound was forgotten.

As Minho gently drifted to sleep, he felt as if he was part of the words you read out loud. He felt as if you were treating him with the same care, making sure that he knew he wasn't invisible. At least not to you.

When you wake up the next morning, Minho is gone. And his place beside you on the couch is empty. He made you breakfast, scrambled eggs, and freshly pressed orange juice. And right next to it you find a note, "Thank you for reading to me."

✹✹✹

Minho didn't believe in having a lot of friends. He was content with the two people he had, Chan and Changbin. The latter was his high school friend, he skipped a year and ended up being in the same class as Minho. They didn't talk at first until the day Changbin dropped a book on Minho's foot. The brooding man started apologizing profusely, and that was the start of their friendship. They've kept in touch since.

Chan was his roommate at university. It's not that he particularly wanted to befriend him, but Chan was a social butterfly and he quickly managed to pull Minho into his friendly trap. He annoys Minho the most, but in an endearing way. And although Chan is older, Minho still strangely developed a soft spot for him. 

And he supposes he has you too now. At first, you weren’t friends, rivals at most. He enjoyed reeling you up and having you frown at his words in your heated debates. He also liked talking to you, because your ideas were interesting and you always gave him a new fresh perceptive to see things.

That’s how he strictly saw you as, an intelligent human who he liked to debate with.

But then he started to look forward to meeting up with you at Limbo. He no longer minded the fact that you took his self-assigned table, from his high school days. And he laughed more freely with you, enjoying how you always had a witty retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

That’s how he started to notice things that friends most definitely notice. How you have a charm bracelet you always fidget with whenever you are nervous. How you stray away from physical touch. How you scratch your eyebrow when you are deep in thought.

But also, how you seem to have an obsession with cherries. Your cherry pendant, your cherry-scented shampoo, and your cherry-tainted lips. A friend would most certainly think that your lips are like red wine-stained glass.

He remembers one of the many times when you were at Limbo, and he saw you reapply your lip tint, or so you called it. You caught him looking and he swiftly averted his gaze, but it wasn't quick enough. Suddenly you were in front of him, a tiny red bottle in hand.

"Let me apply it to you," you smiled and he pushed your head away with his pointer finger. "No."

"Please," you pouted and he couldn't help but find you adorable. You sometimes reminded him of a small kitten. But he didn’t dare to call you by that nickname. 

"Never."

"If I score more than you in our environmental assignment then I will do it."

"Fine." he huffed so that you'd leave him alone.

Minho didn't study for that assignment. He blamed it on a headache, not that it's ever stopped him before. And two weeks later you were in front of him, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You applied the lip tint gently on his plump lips, carefully tracing over his cupid bow. 

Your face was mere inches away from his and he noticed how you were wearing a gloss today, for change. It was shimmering under the lights and he usually didn't like glittery things, but he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. 

"All done!" you clapped excitedly, snapping him out of his haze. You then shove your phone camera into his face so he'd look at the results.

"You should be a model. Your face is perfectly sculpted," you comment nonchalantly, before sitting back in your seat. 

“I know.” He replies confidently, but his hand kept fiddling with the tip of his now pink ears. He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the night.

You were his friend because he always worried if you were eating enough. That’s why he urged you to grab a bite in the convenience store near Limbo, whenever you finished up your studying late.

This was one of the many times you sat on the minuscule table outside, hot ramen bowls in front of the both of you. Minho huffed in annoyance between each bite, his bangs were getting longer, disturbing him when he leaned down to slurp his noodles. 

“Here,” you stand up from your place, a hair tie in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” He questions as you stand behind him. You don’t reply, silently grabbing his hair and putting it up in a tiny ponytail, this way it wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore.

“Voila,” you sit back down, resuming your eating. Minho was grateful for the dimly lit street because his entire face was burning up. Your fingers in his hair were gentle and he wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through it. 

This was something friends think about, right? 

"I’ll cut my hair tomorrow," he clears his throat. He didn't know why he told you. You certainly weren't interested in his hair endeavors.

"What?!" you yell, "Don't. Your hair is beautiful why would you cut it?"

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

Minho also noticed how you always threw compliments his way. Not in a flirtatious way, but in a genuine one. He couldn't help but wonder what made you this way. Did you so freely give love to others because you knew how it felt to not receive it?

"I’ll still cut it."

Minho returned home; his hair still clipped back in a ponytail. Chan eyed him weirdly but he shut him off with a glare. The elastic remained at his bedside since.

He didn't cut his hair.

The moment Minho started to consider you a close friend, was when you invited him over to watch your show. You didn’t force him to open up that night, and he appreciated it, more than he let on.

That's how a week later, he finds himself walking towards your dorm again. The thoughts in his head got too much, and Chan was immersed in his makeshift studio, which meant he won't be free for the next four hours, minimum.

He didn't plan on going to you. It was late at night and you were probably asleep, but his feet naturally led him to the direction of your place.

He knocks softly on your door. He wasn't even sure if he wanted you to open. What would you think of him showing up at eleven pm? He should have thought this thro-

"Minho?" you call out, and he startles a bit, his feet already inching away from the door.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry," he starts to retract back but you grab the hem of his jacket to stop him. "Do you... Do you want to watch my show with me?" you ask, a soft smile on your face and he nods tentatively.

"Okay, come in," you open the door wider and Minho follows you inside. The look in his eyes reminds you of the day you found him sitting under the rain. You didn't like it, you wanted him to find his spark back, his usual demeanor. He wasn't deserving of anything but happiness.

"I’ve started a new show, this one's a bit more romantic, so don't go around imagining me as the main character," you tease and he scoffs at your words, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't reply, but you don't mind. There was this secret agreement between the two of you, you would talk and he would listen. He needed the distraction, and you needed the company. Sometimes the line between alone and lonely blurs, and on days like these, Minho’s presence fills the void inside.

You comment on the scenes and Minho hums in reply, you watch three episodes in a row, and your eyes are getting drowsy, so you close them.

"Minho," you call out gently and he turns his head towards you.

"Yeah?"

"What color are you feeling tonight?" You ask, referencing to what he told you on your dinner celebration. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Black." You stay silent and Minho fidgets with his hands before speaking once again. "I feel a lot at the same time, too much of every color. That's why- that's why I said black."

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

"You already do." His admission came softly and it made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him, but you figured it will only make him close off even more.

“Okay. Will you stay for breakfast?”, you whisper. You were very sleepy, the soft chatter of the TV and your hushed conversation were like a lullaby to you. 

"You want me to?" he asks, and he sounds so vulnerable you can't find it in you to say anything but the truth.

"I do," you admit, and that's the last thing you remember before sleeping.

Your head falls near Minho’s lap on the couch, your hair tickling his exposed thigh. Minho shouldn’t feel this way, he thinks. He’s sitting on the leather couch and his feet are touching the cold floor and yet all he can feel is three strands of your hair tickling him.

He glances at you, at your now parted lips and your relaxed eyebrows. His hand hovers over your hair, but then he curls it into a tight fist. What is he doing? He thinks to himself as he drags an angry hand through his face. He sighs, before standing up and grabbing the blanket you had on the opposing chair. He gently lays it on your body before sitting next to you once again. 

You told him to stay for breakfast. He’ll stay.

✹✹✹

2 months later

"Yn!" Minho shouts in your ear as he plops down next to you. You startle, dropping the book you were reading. 

"I hate you," you grumble, picking up your book and he smiles cheekily at you, "No you don't."

You were laying on the grass of your campus garden, in between two classes, trying to kill the time. It was April so the weather was perfect for lying under the warm sunrays. You loved spring, it always held within it the promise of a better time. 

"What are you doing?"

"I was reading before you got here and started to annoy me." 

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

"You couldn't find any other place to do so?"

"Nope."

"You're annoying" You try to sound mad but the smile on your face betrays you. You started looking forward to any moment Minho randomly shows up throughout your day. Sometimes it's late at night when he's suddenly craving sushi and he drags you with him because if he's not studying then you shouldn't be too. 

Sometimes it's during the day, when he takes you to a new garden where he found the quote "cutest cats in existence". Not as cute as his cats, of course. 

Sometimes it's late afternoon when he just knocks on your door, and he's there with Chan-his roommate who sometimes joins your study sessions- snacks in their hands. You've learned that what Minho doesn't say in words, he compensates by spending time with you. And you didn't tell him but waiting for these moments has been the joy of your life for the past few weeks.

It made you feel excited- like a child waiting up for Christmas morning to discover what gifts they are receiving. 

So, you resume reading, as Minho is lying next to you. You could smell his pinewood cologne and you wished you could pour his essence into a bottle and carry it with you everywhere. 

You notice how the sun is hitting Minho’s eyes directly, and how his eyebrows are scrunched up at the aggression. So, you grab your book with your left hand, and hover your right one over his eyes, shielding him from the sun. Minho's breath tickles your hand and you can feel goosebumps rising through your skin. 

It's as if every physical proximity with Minho made you feel hyperaware of every part of your body, and how he can lighten it with a simple breath from his part. It made you wonder what it would feel to have his hands on your skin.

As if Minho heard your thoughts, he gently wraps his thumb and index finger around your wrist, steadying your hand in place so it wouldn't strain your arm. You suddenly don't know what page you are in, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. 

His touch is very featherlight and you are afraid to move, to break the bubble you are suddenly pulled into. 

"Read to me," he tells you and you gulp. You never understood why Minho enjoyed it when you read to him. 

"Like my voice that much?" you tease, in an attempt to hide how affected you are. You were so close to him; it would be easy to slide down and lay your head on his chest. You wondered how his heartbeat would sound. Was it steady, or racing just like your own? 

"Yeah, it's calming," he replies sincerely, catching you off guard. You didn't expect him to compliment you, and now you are racking your brain for a retort, anything to make you breathe again. 

"Growing soft on me Minho?" you say, the same question you asked on your first dinner out. The first time you truly saw him, the first time you felt as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle, just waiting for someone to connect the both of you. 

He doesn't reply. And you sit there, patiently waiting. His first answer came so easily, so naturally, because he was being sarcastic, "I’m basically in love with you", he told you back then. So why can't he say it again?

"Yes, I am." He finally replies and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You try to account it for your brain misguiding you. It wasn't Minho speaking, it was the rustling of the leaves and the singing of the birds that you just heard. But it was him, and now his eyes are open and he's looking at you. Your hand is still shielding his eyes and his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. And you are suddenly feeling. You are feeling too much. You don't know what to do with those feelings cursing through your veins and you can't face them. Because they are scaring you.

"I'll just... Yeah, I’ll just read," you say quietly, too flustered by his intense gaze. You were already on the other side, you realize. His eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey. 

"Out loud," he says and you chuckle, "Fine, Min." The nickname slips out of your tongue naturally and you quickly snap your head towards Minho to see if he noticed. 

His eyes are closed, and there is a slight smile on his face, and you can swear that he just repeated the nickname to himself softly. 

✹✹✹

You've been so sick these past days, you barely managed to go to class. Your head throbbed with pain and your entire body felt as if someone thoroughly boxed it. 

You were grateful that Minho reeled down his teasing because you had no energy to retort back. He may have noticed how sick you felt and truthfully it would be hard not to. You stayed silent throughout the day, and you looked so pale, you avoided looking at the mirror altogether.

Though Minho didn't talk to you, he still silently placed water bottles and some of your favorite snacks on your desk. You'd down the water, grateful for the relief it brought your sore throat. And when you didn't touch the food, he'd immediately text you 'Eat up', followed by a simple 'Please'. Having someone else care for your well-being felt weird, but it warmed your heart beyond what words could describe. 

You only came today to pass your Criminal Law mid-term, but your head hurt so badly that you weren't even sure what you wrote on your paper. The words blurred in front of your eyes and you almost slept in the middle of your exam, exhaustion threatening to take over your body. 

You fucked up, badly. You haven't screwed up this much in years.

You thought that you were slowly getting better since Minho surpassing you no longer sparked an unworthy feeling within you. But apparently, you were wrong to believe so. Self-doubt crept up within you once again, and the ugly feelings it stirred slowly clawed at your throat, making it hard for you to breathe.

It was one test, and yet it reeled you back ages ago. 

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you hurriedly walk out of your class. You make a beeline for the library, figuring that it will be mostly empty by now. 

You pull out a chair and sit on it, lowering your head down so no one will see you. Your tears are falling rapidly and you hit your thigh repeatedly.  You hated how weak you felt in that instant. 

"Yn?", someone calls out and you curse internally. You don't have to look up to see who it is, Minho's voice has become a part of you- you could easily recognize it between a thousand mingling sounds. 

You don't want him to see you, especially not like this, weak and vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down. So you quickly slip a pair of sunglasses on your eyes, before raising your head to look at him. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone so soft it makes you want to cry ten times fold. You hated it, hated how attentive he was to you. You didn't deserve it. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just here to pick a book," you lie, abruptly standing up and heading toward the rows behind you. You desperately needed to get away from him. 

You pause in front of a random shelf and then you feel Minho standing behind you. You grab a random book and he peeks above your shoulder to see it, "Economics? You hate this subject."

"Why are you following me?" you turn around attempting your best to sound mad. When in reality, your heart was brimming with hurt. You wished you could get away from your body and seep into someone's soul to feel what it's like to love yourself.

"You aren't okay," he asserts and you hate it. You hate that he sounds so sure of himself. Was it that noticeable? Were you not fooling anyone?

"I am," your voice is shaking but you are adamant about contradicting him. You couldn't let him see you. What if he runs?

"Then..." he steps forward and you take a step back until your back is against the shelf. His left arm cages your body, but his right one stays by his side. He is leaving you an opening, you realize, an outing in case you feel uncomfortable. Against all odds, you don't.

 "Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, gently taking your sunglasses off your face, and placing them on the top of your head.

You don't look up at him, and he hooks his finger underneath your chin, gently raising your head. When your tear-stained eyes meet his, he frowns deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

"I fucked up, okay?! That was the worst test I’ve ever given in years." The tears start to flow at your words and you wipe them away aggressively. You despised crying in front of people. 

Minho raises his hand to wipe the tears away for you but he quickly retracts it- you probably wouldn't want him to touch your face. It was enough that he had grabbed your wrist a couple of weeks before this. He quickly racks his brain for something to do, because the sight of your tears is making his heart ache in a way he hasn't felt before. It's as if he's feeling your emotions deep within him.

In desperation, Minho pinches your arm and you yelp, startled. "What was that for?" you whisper-shout and he raises his hands in defense, "I didn't know what else to do."

"So, you thought about pinching me?" you chuckle in bewilderment and he scratches the top of his hair sheepishly. 

"I mean, it worked. Look, you stopped crying," he points out raising his brows at you proudly and you shake your head at him.

"Remind me to never cry in front of you again." 

Minho grins at you before his face turns serious once again. "Look, you are the smartest person I know," he pauses, adding with a cheeky smirk, "After me of course." Which makes you giggle against your will. 

"Shut up", you lightly punch his chest and he smiles. "One test doesn't define you. You always work very hard. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mm," you hum and he frowns at your lack of enthusiasm, but still, he doesn't comment. 

"No more crying," he wiggles his finger in front of your face and you roll your eyes, wiping the rest of your tears away. "Fine. Pretend as if this never happened."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as if confused, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It's as if Minho knows exactly what to say to cheer you up. 

"Come with me," he tells you, gently pulling you by the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

"You're craving ice cream too," he says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. 

"Only if you're paying," you add with a giggle and he whines loudly, "I feel so so used around you." 

True to his words, Minho takes you to the nearest ice cream parlor. It's a 20 minutes walk away and you are grateful for the distance because it helps you clear your head a bit.

Minho lets you pick whatever flavors you want, and when you hesitate between two of them, he tells the cashier to put them both into your cup. This is how you end up with a container of 5 scoops of ice cream. You insisted you'd share, and Minho begrudgingly agreed when you threatened to walk out and leave him.

You then walk to a deserted alley and sit on the sidewalk. You didn't want to be around people right now, and thankfully, Minho understood without you having to say a word.  

You munch silently on your ice cream and Minho does the same, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You naturally take turns holding the freezing container, so it wouldn't numb the fingers of one of you.

When you're done, Minho stands up to throw it away in a nearby trashcan before sitting back again next to you. 

Suddenly you feel him gently tapping your hand. You look down to find that you've curled your fingers into a tight fist, so much that there are crescent indents visible on your palm now. 

"Let's play thumb war," he tells you and you giggle at his words. You never knew what to expect from him. 

Still, as your fingers hold each other, and your thumb circles one another, you feel yourself calm down slightly. You play a couple of rounds, and you know he's going easy on you, allowing you to quickly trap his thumb down. 

No one has gone to such lengths to cheer you up, and you suddenly feel so grateful for Minho’s presence in your life. You didn't care in what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it. Which in turn makes you think how bad it'd hurt if he ever leaves. 

You don't want Minho to leave. You've gotten so attached to him that the thought of not talking to him again makes your heart race in panic. 

Minho notices the change in your expression, suddenly melancholic once again. Your hand has gone limp in his, the thumb war long forgotten by you. 

He curses under his breath, before looking at you. "If I dance for you, will you quit being so sad?"

"Dance for me?" you repeat incredulously and he nods, "Yes. I’ll show you an upcoming choreography just... Please smile?" 

"Okay," you giggle, plastering a wide grin on your face. 

"Not like that you look scary."

"Get to dancing!" you clap excitedly and he rolls his eyes, standing up and looking through his phone for a particular music. 

"Oh and no comment!" he looks pointedly at you, and you nod, pretending to zip your mouth and throwing away the key. 

'Finesse' by Bruno Mars starts playing and you are left mesmerized by the way Minho dances. It's short but it leaves you yearning to see more. His body moves smoothly, hitting each beat effortlessly. He made it look as if dancing was second nature to him, that it came as easily to him as breathing. 

You were speechless, rightfully so. You wished you could build a world where all Minho did was dance. 

"That was-" you start when he stops the music but he cuts you off instantly, "I said no comment."

"But--" Minho places his finger on your mouth to silence you, seemingly not thinking too much of it. But the feel of his finger on your lips makes you dizzy. Minho quickly takes off his hand, a blush evidently creeping up his neck. 

"Let's just go home," he sighs in defeat and you laugh despite the intense feelings cursing through you.

You don't know if you are imagining it but you swear that your pinkies brush against each other on your walk back. As if there was this magnetic force pulling them together. You wondered what would happen if you just linked your pinky with his. Would he grab you by the hand or will he let go of you entirely?

You were too much of a coward to find out. You were scared of messing up anything with him. So, you'd settle for this. Stolen glances and random outings. You just need him in your life. 

"Thank you for today," you tell Minho once you arrive and he shrugs, as what he did wasn't a big deal.

"No, I mean it. Thank you," you repeat, trying your best to convey how sincere you were being. You take in a deep breath, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, for a fleeting second, before dropping it again. 

Minho is sure that your hand will now be imprinted into his, that the lines tracing over your palm will merge with his as one. Your touch was barely there but it had electrocuted him. He wondered to himself if his body would be able to handle more from you. But he'd gladly burn in your fires for the sake of holding you. And he'd wait, unwaveringly, as time stretches alongside the two of you. He'd wait as long as it takes for you. 

"Yn, I..." he stammers, taking a step closer to you. His scent engulfs you and you shamefully close your eyes, inhaling it. When you open them again, you find Minho glancing down at your lips. You gulp, dazzled by his proximity. 

"You have a mole on your nose," you suddenly speak up and his eyes snap back to yours, an adorable confusion drawn on his features. 

"I like that mole," you continue and you wish you could dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. 

"Thank you," he chuckles and you nod vigorously, "You're welcome." 

"Can I ask you something?" he says and your breath hitches in your throat. "Sure."

"You don't like it when people touch you, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

You want to confide in him, to tell him that it’s because you long for it, you crave it so badly. That this need has woven itself into the very fabric of your being. An ache so raw that it scares you at times. You’ve never known what it feels like to be held- it was uncharted territory to you. 

"Isn't everyone scared of the unknown?" you settle on saying, and he nods in understanding. Of course, he understood. No one knows you as well as him. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to know if I ever overstepped my boundaries."

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

"Good. You'll tell me if I ever do, right?"

"I will." 

"Okay." 

"Um. I'll get going," you point behind you and Minho smiles at you, waving you off.

You walk for a few steps before coming back again quickly. You then grab Minho’s hand, gently squeezing it like before, "You are an amazing dancer." 

And then you drop it, running back towards your apartment block without waiting for a reply. 

Minho stays frozen in his place. You think he's an amazing dancer. And you held his hand for five seconds. 

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

You haven't gotten out of your house for the past three days. 

Everything crashed around you rapidly, it made you realize that the ground you once stood on was only an illusion, elusive and fleeting. 

You were doing well; you were getting better. But then Monday came and you went out for a walk in the park near you. As you sat there, you saw a little girl playing on the swings, delightful joy dancing across her features. But then she fell to the ground and you instinctively stood up to help her, only to notice her mother running to her. 

The world stilled around you as you clearly saw it- how the little girl clung to her mother's embrace, her embodiment of hope and love. You never had that. You don’t even know what perfume your mother used because she never allowed you to get that close to her. 

You stood up abruptly, quickly heading back to your apartment block. As you ran up the stairs, you ended up bumping into one of your neighbors. You were quick to apologize but they ignored you, and the feeling of being invisible came back to haunt you ten times fold. 

You knew you shouldn’t have done it, you knew you should have deleted your mother’s number when she sent you away to university without a backward glance, relieved at the thought of you getting a full-ride scholarship and not needing her anymore. But you didn’t, you kept her number in the hopes that she’d call. On your birthday, on holidays, on a random Thursday to tell you that she did remember who you are. 

With trembling hands, tears welling in your eyes, you dialed your mother’s number for the first time in a year. You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she misses you. Maybe she didn’t find the courage to mend her wrongdoings and that's why she never called. 

"Hello?" her voice rang through your apartment. Goosebumps erupted on your arms and your hold on the phone tightened. Her voice took you back to memories you thought you had buried. How you spent countless nights yearning to hear the sound of her voice, how you regretted it once she spoke to attack you.

You hate her. You miss her. You want to hang up. You need to ask if she's doing okay. 

“Who is this?” Her voice was devoid of recognition, freezing you in your tracks. You felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown over your head, dousing the flame of hope that flickered in your heart. 

She deleted your number.

You quickly hung up, placing your phone down on the table. The tears refused to fall. It was as if your body had long anticipated this outcome, leaving only your wounded soul to bear the pain. 

Healing isn't linear, you've read about it in books and heard it in shows and movies. One step back doesn't mean that your entire progress is gone. You know this, you've memorized those sentences. So why do you not believe them? Why does it feel as if you can never be free from the past? Why does it feel as if you’ll always seek something out of her? 

Those questions roamed your mind for the past three days, making you too tired at the prospect of lifting your limbs, let alone leaving your apartment. You sent your two friends a text, telling them that you're sick so they wouldn't worry. Not that you believed they would. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You laid on your bed in utter silence- a tense quiet that was disrupted on the third day by someone knocking on your door. You didn't know who was there; you just hoped that they'd leave you alone.

To your surprise, you open the door to find Minho, some notes in his right hand and a coffee in his left. He sends an easy smile your way. You don't smile back.

"What do you want?" your voice is cold, but Minho doesn't bristle. A cheeky smile settles on his lips as he leans on your doorway.

"You didn't come to class for the past three days, so I brought you the notes. So, you wouldn't think our competition is unfair."

"Competition," you chuckle coldly, heading inside your apartment, and he follows suit. You start to pace around furiously, and Minho looks at you worriedly. "Competition?" you repeat, the word dripping off your tongue like venom. You turn around, marching towards Minho and standing a few inches from him. "You know what? Fuck you and your competition!"

"Yn-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted a part in this competition? That all I wanted was to be left alone?" you say, growing louder as you jab your finger into his chest repeatedly. "I never wanted any of this! Do you understand? I never wanted to be this way," you shout angrily in his face.

The worried look in Minho’s eyes snaps you out of your haze. You realize that you are being utterly ridiculous lashing out at Minho, when the one person you are mad at is yourself. 

Your anger quickly deflates, leaving in its trail an agonizing sadness. It's so sudden that it knocks the breath out of you, and you clutch your chest as if it could soothe the burn in your heart. Suddenly you are twelve years old again, crying in your room because you feel like no one has ever loved you.

But this time you aren't alone. Minho is in front of you, and his eyebrows are so furrowed you want to lean forward to ease the tension between them. His eyebrows, you liked his eyebrows, they were arched, and they framed his eyes nicely, and his eyes are brown and so big, and they always look at you softly and why is it getting so hard to breathe-

"Did I do something to you? Whatever it is I’m sorry," Minho panics, cutting off your frantic train of thought. But now, the weight of guilt adds to your overwhelming emotions. You shouldn't have lashed out at him, he brought you coffee and you yelled at him. Maybe your mom was right after all.

You shake your head left and right furiously, your words coming out in hiccups. Since when did you start crying? "It isn't- it isn't you."

"Then let me help you-", he steps forward, hand outstretched, but you take three hurried steps back and wrap your hands around yourself protectively. "Don’t. Please, don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?" his tone isn't accusatory. You've learned time and time again that Minho wouldn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

"Because I’m afraid!" the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I’m afraid if you ever hug me, I wouldn't be able to go back to hugging myself. I'd need you and I can't afford to need someone else."

You regret the words as soon as they fleet away from your mouth. He would look at you differently, he would find you pathetic and then he’d leave. And you wanted him to leave. But you also wanted him to stay. It was all so confusing. 

You felt as if your being was torn between two great forces, each one of them trying to win the war raging inside you. You wished someone else would make the decisions in your place, for once.

Minho places the coffee and notes on the ground before approaching you, his palms facing up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't leave you," he says softly. "I’ll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Minho..." your voice catches in your throat as you utter his name- like a broken prayer. He stands before you, his eyes shimmering like the reflection of a river on a sunny day.

"Please, let me make it better." 

You nod tentatively and Minho comes even closer to you. He was treating you like one would with a wounded animal, giving you a chance to ultimately back out. But for once, you listen to what your heart has been yearning for. Your bones are aching to be held, to feel the warmth of a body against your own, to feel safe and secure. 

Minho embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you to him. You slowly bring your arms up and lace them around his waist. You are afraid, deathly afraid. His grip is loose, and you almost can't feel him around you, but when you lay your head on his chest, he tightens his hold on you and you instinctively let out a sob. 

He's hugging adult you, the woman whose heart was once again broken by her mom. But he's also hugging little you, the girl who was craving affection from everyone around her. In that instant, Minho is hugging every single version of you that ever needed a hug. 

You were right to be scared because you don't want to let go, you want to stay in his arms because they feel safe, like a shield protecting you. You can't go back to not hugging Minho. 

The sensation is overwhelming and your knees buckle underneath you. But instead of holding you up, Minho falls to the ground with you, as if you are two inseparable pieces of one puzzle. He isn’t here to fix you, he’s here to break down with you and help you pick up the scattered pieces.

You think back to that night in the park when Minho told you about Japanese vases. At this moment, it dawns on you that Minho has found a way to become a part of you. He was the molten gold binding your broken parts together. He was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together.

Who were you fooling? It was him; it was him all along. 

Minho rocks you gently as you cry and cry and cry. His hand finds your hair and he plays with it as you sob. He tells you you'll be okay, you'll feel better and you try to believe him, his words wrap around your bruises like a healing balm. 

"There, there, love. You are okay", he murmurs, tenderly patting your head. A fresh set of tears wells up in your eyes. Love.

"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologize as you pull away from his embrace. 

"Why are you apologizing? Is it because you wet my shirt? I don't mind," he reassures you with a smile and you shake your head. 

 "I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it," you explain through hiccups.

"It's okay, you weren't mad at me, were you?" he asks, wiping your tears away so gently with his thumbs, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

"No. Still, it isn't okay and I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Shh, don't apologize. It's okay." you look at him doubtfully and he rolls his eyes playfully, "Here I’ll even do your silly pinky promise, okay?" he laces his pinky with yours, but then he suddenly leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. "There, sealed forever."

You giggle faintly as a blush dusts your cheeks, "That's not how it works."

"I know."

Your giggle was far different from the ones Minho was accustomed to. It was small, and it didn't brighten up your face like usual. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. He realized how much he missed your laugh, and how all the other sounds in the world pale in comparison to it.

In that moment Minho thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you smile again. He'd make a fool out of himself if it meant making you happy. He'd settle for a simple tug at the corners of your mouth, anything but the sadness that seemed etched in your face, as if it was blended into the colors that drew you.

You tentatively move around, before laying your head on his lap. Minho's hand instinctively finds your hair and he starts to gently play with it. It feels as if you've done this a million times before, when in fact it was the first. 

There was something wildly intimate about laying on the floor with the man who just comforted you. It made you want to spill all your secrets to him, one by one, and have him hug you through them.

"Did you mean it? When you said you'll stay?" you felt so vulnerable in his hold, as if he could twist you whoever he liked. But you trusted him. You trusted yourself with Minho.

"I did. Your walls are always up. It's hard to peek behind them. But I don't want to tear them down. I want you to slowly unbuild them. I want you to do it for yourself."

To do it for yourself, it's hard to even know who you are anymore. 

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay. Take your time, kitten." he pats your head gently, and you try to sync your breathing to the rhythm of his touch. You were grateful that you were lying on his lap since you couldn't see his face. It made talking feel a little less daunting.

"On my 9th birthday... I was very excited. I'd been on my best behavior that month, trying to please my mom in the hope that, for once, we'd celebrate my birthday. Like a normal little family," you smile sadly, you were so hopeful back then.

"My birthday came, I woke up, excited. My mom was still asleep, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I made my breakfast and walked to my school. I wore my prettiest dress and put on pigtails with hair clips. It was my birthday after all," Minho smiles softly at your words, his hand now resting on your own.

"I got back home and waited for my mom to come back. She remembered my birthday, I thought. And then, she came but she didn't talk to me. So, I thought, oh a surprise party!" you chuckle, but this time the smile on Minho’s face is gone.

"It was then 11 pm, and the hope had slowly died in me. So, in my stupid innocent self, I went to my mom, and asked her "Did you forget my birthday?". And I remember... I remember the way she laughed. Cruelly. Like I had told her the funniest joke in the world. And then. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said 'I hate the fact that you are born. Why would I celebrate that?'"

Minho sucks in a deep breath at your words, and you exhale one right out. It felt comforting, to have someone else stomach the hurt for you. To take the weight off your shoulders, allowing you a few moments to breathe.

"I confronted her about it one day, but she said she doesn't remember saying that. It's funny how it was a random Thursday for her, but for me, it shaped my life." you smile bitterly, "I remember how jealous I was of the way the other kids talked about their mothers. They said the word so lightly. It must have reminded them of sunshine and ice cream and rainbows. But for me, it held an uncharacteristic heaviness to it. I grew to hate the word."

"I drove myself crazy, Min", you whisper and he brings you closer to his body, "was it me or was it her? When did it start? Was it because I was too loud as a child or maybe too quiet? Did I not cater to her fantasies of a kid? I wanted to remember every single thing that happened throughout my childhood, thread through every single memory. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment my mom stopped loving me."

Minho squeezes your hand tightly in his, and you feel as if he was pulling you away from the memory that had long trapped you. You were now watching it unfold from outside of the window, your hand in his, safe from the hurt it had inflicted on you.

"It's not you. It could never be you. Some people are simply not fit to be parents. It's never their kid's fault."

Minho tries his best to keep his touch soothing, to make his voice sound as soft as possible. But he was angry, he was so angry at the world for not taking care of you when you were younger. His heart broke, thinking of 9-year-old you being told such cruel words.

He wanted to turn back time and tell you that you were enough. He wanted to make the pain that seemed so anchored in you float back to the surface, and dissipate like sea foam meeting the shore.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do is comfort present you.

Minho gently pulls you up from his lap, making you sit upright. He crisscrosses his legs and you do the same. Your knees brush against each other and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You didn't know that even knees could emanate such warmth.

"Yn, look at me. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it," he cradles your face between his hands, "You hear me yn? I’m so thankful you exist."

His doe brown eyes are sincere, and it made you want to believe him badly. That's a good start, right?

"I’ll be back," he tells you, letting go of your face and standing up.

You hear Minho rummaging through the kitchen and you take the time to calm yourself down. Sharing those parts of you with Minho felt therapeutic. As if you were healing parts of your inner child. You have never talked about this with anyone before, maybe this is why it still hurt as badly.

Minho comes back five minutes later, his hands behind his back. You raise a brow at him inquisitively and he just smiles secretly at you. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you giggle, doing as he says. He crouches in front of you, and you hear him shuffle in his place for a bit.

Then, "Open your eyes yn," and you find him, in front of you, a cupcake you had stored in your fridge in his hands, and a makeshift candle lit up. "Happy 9th birthday, love. You did well."

You stare at him in utter bewilderment. You couldn't believe your eyes. How could this man be so thoughtful? He was wishing you a belated birthday, to compensate for the 9th birthday you didn't celebrate.

You panic, at the look in his eyes. You've never seen it, never dared to dream of it, of someone caring for you unconditionally. So, you try to scare him, to push him away. You didn't want him to regret knowing you.

"There are things I need you to know um", you chuckle nervously, "When I... When I throw up, I hold my hair, and when I’m sick I nurse myself back to health, and when I have a nightmare I- I hold my hand in the dark. It will be hard for me to hold yours instead."

"We'll start a finger at a time, yeah?"

"It will take time."

"I have time," he speaks easily, as if loving you was effortless and not a strenuous task. You couldn't fathom it.

"You are too busy-", he cuts you off instantly, "Not for you." 

"The world doesn't stop because we need it to." Your voice is quiet; this is your very last try. You are tired of fighting. You are putting down your armor and waving a white flag.

"We'll make it stop. Here, the two of us. On this floor. We'll take as long as we need to."

"I never deemed you as an optimist", you smile a little, a hint of teasing in your tone.

"I’m not," he pauses, gazing down at the cupcake between his hands and then at you. "But I feel that we deserve a bit of happiness together, don't we?"

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

You close your eyes for a few seconds, before blowing on the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks a fond smile on his face.

The answer came naturally to you, you didn't even need to think about it. "I wished for you."

Minho's lips come crashing down on yours, and you imagine that this is what it feels like to see colors for the first time. To discover a new world beyond the one you've always known.

The kiss isn't urgent nor feverish, it is one of comfort. Your lips spilling the words you have not yet said to each other. "I love you," he kisses you, "I love you too," you kiss him back. "I need you to stay," you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, "I’m never leaving you," he opens his mouth allowing you entrance.

As you kiss him, you remember a fact you once learned in high school. The human body possesses seven trillion nerves. And for the first time in your life, you feel as if each of these nerves is alive. You feel that even the smallest atom is electrocuted with Minho’s love and it’s all you know within you.  

You feel as if the pain, the hurt, and the ache you've been through are slowly unraveled, and in their place, a timid happiness is starting to bloom. You imagine that when Minho’s lips met your own, the seven trillion nerves inside you exhaled in relief 'We've made it', they said, 'we'll finally be okay.'

Epilogue

You've always thought that epilogues were useless. How can you resume the rest of your life in one sentence, boil down the rest of your existence in mere pages? Because life doesn't stop at the epilogue, and a new book can start once again, right where you left it off.  

But with Minho, you didn't mind an epilogue. On the contrary, you longed for a soft one. You wanted to rest on this last page, you wanted to lay your worries on the words and tuck them into the syllables. And you wanted to wake up anew.

And this wasn't the end of your story with Minho. A lot happened after it. But it didn't worry you, because epilogues are about the one thing that doesn't change throughout the long march of time. And luckily for you, that constant was Minho’s love for you. From that day he held you, he has never let go.

It took time, for his warmth to seep through your bones. It took time, for your heart to forget the cold. But you wanted to do it. With him. You wanted to love and be loved.

The sound of cats mewling fills your apartment, pudding can always be found in your fridge and you haven't felt invisible in years.

[his-angell]

Jealousy. (minsung.)

Plot; Minho gets a sudden pit in his stomach as he watched Jisung flirt with Seungmin all day. He doesn't understand this feeling. He sat through a live with the other members, only watching as his lover seemed to slip further away from him. But really, he was reading the whole thing wrong. Paring; Lee Minho x Han Jisung Genre; Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort Word count; 1.4k Warnings; None Request?; No

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Minho and Jisung had been dating for about a year and a half now. They were more than happy. They never really argued. If they did, it was always some small thing, which they talked through. They were happy. Very happy. They were still quiet about it to the Stays. They loved the Stays, but they didn’t really want it out publicly yet. They had hate already, they were sure they would get ten times as much if they told it to the public. Besides, they thought it was silly to see how the Stays would post about their suspicions, which they didn’t really care. There would always be the suspicion whether they were together or not.

Today was a good day. Kind of. It was an odd one for Minho. Jisung hadn’t been paying much attention to him. Which, if he needed space, he totally understood. But this wasn’t him needing space. Because he was all over Seungmin. Holding hands with him, sending fake kisses to him. Cuddling on his arm, laughing at his jokes. You know, all that stuff. Minho never cared, cause Jisung normally turned and gave him the sweetest eyes, ones only he got to see. But today he hadn’t even received a glance from his boyfriend. 

It was making Minho feel weird. He wasn’t angry.. He was upset? Sad maybe? He didn't understand what he was feeling. There was this pit in his stomach watching his boyfriend love on someone else. They had a live to do that day, so Minho hoped that Jisung would notice what he was doing and try and correct himself. The live had been going on for about five minutes now. So far.. Nothing from Jisung. Minho stood next to him, resting his hand on Jisungs shoulder. He leaned on him. He paid attention to what Chan was saying, still trying to introduce what they would be doing today. Jisung got excited and jumped a little, grabbing onto Seungmin and shaking him. 

Minho groaned and held his chin. When Jinsung jumped up, his shoulder crashed right into his chin. He was a bit dazed, since his jaw was knocked pretty hard. “You okay, Lee Know?” Felix raised an eyebrow. Minho blinked his eyes back open to see the others all snickering, thinking what had happened was a little funny. They all tended to laugh at each other's pain. Even Jisung laughed.. Minho nodded a little. He looked at Chan and kinda pointed to the door to be dismissed. Chan nodded. With that, Minho walked behind the tripod and rushed out of the room they were in, closing the door a little harsh.

He had gone to get water, taking a few minutes to regain himself. He took a deep breath. He was trying to shake this ugly feeling off his shoulders. Not the pain, but the pit. The pit had only grown bigger when he saw Jisung hiding in Seungmins chest while he laughed at the accidental knock to Minho's jaw. He shook his body and sighed. When he headed back into the room, he decided he’d just sit back and observe. He would pitch in a funny comment here and there, helping as a judge for a game or two. 

The whole thing was so painful. Watching how Jisung would constantly run to Seungmins side. He ended up going on his phone at some point, watching the live from his phone, but not to watch the others, only to read comments. He noticed a lot of comments asking what was wrong with him. And a lot of others asking if he and Jisung had a fight. Some even suspected that Seungmin and Jisung had gotten together, making him scoff. 

It felt like forever when the live finally ended. Minho had never gotten up so fast to leave a room. But little did he know, someone followed him. He had gone to the rehearsal room. Maybe dancing would get this feeling off his chest. He scrolled through his phone, looking for a song he could dance to. “Baby?” Jisungs soft voice sounded. Minho sucked in a sharp breath as he whipped around, ready to bitch slap the person that nearly scared him to death. He sighed out when he realized it was only Jisung. He was almost annoyed to see him.. 

He grumbled quietly. “Yes, Jisung?” He looked at him almost expectantly. “I’m.. I’m sorry for earlier. When I hit your chin. I didn’t feel you on my shoulder.” Jisung said softly. Minho scoffed. “That's it?” He spat. Jisung was surprised by the others' snarky tone. “Yeah?” He shrugged a little, confused at what else he did. “You've been ignoring me all day, Jisung!” Minho laughed in disbelief. “You have basically been Drooling over Seungmin! Do you have a thing for him or something?” He added. 

Jisungs face fell. He blinked. He shook his head quickly. “Minho, no- That's not it. Not it at all!” He said quickly. Minho crossed his arms. “So please tell me what it is? Huh?” He said. He noticed how Jisungs shoulders were tense. He was really fidgety, Which he normally is, but this was different. “I.. I didn’t think you would care? I-I mean we’re always affectionate with the others, so I didn't think it was a problem.” Jisung said quietly, avoiding the others' gaze. “And I didn’t mean to ignore you- I.. I wasn’t thinking. My minds been all over the place with rehearsals and practice. Everything.” He rambled. "And I know it's not an excuse, but I really am sorry." He finally finished running his mouth.

Minho frowned. He looked down. So why did he feel like this? He still didn’t understand.. Truth was, Minho had never truly been in love before he met Jisung. Sure, he’d been in relationships. But he had never been truly in love. He looked at Jisung, letting out a shaky breath. “Why do I feel so upset then? Because you're right, we almost always are affectionate with the others- But I've never felt weird like this..” He said, hoping Jisung would know what was wrong with him. Jisung smiled a small bit and walked up to his boyfriend, cupping his cheeks. “Oh, Minho.. Are you jealous?” He tilted his head. 

Nothing had ever slapped Minho so hard. But that statement had him dumbfounded. “Am I?” He mumbled. “Hmm.. I guess you really do care about me,” Jisung smiled a little bigger. Minho nodded a little, finally understanding why he felt weird all day. He moved to hold Jisungs waist. “I guess so.” He snickered, jokingly rolling his eyes. He looked down into his loved doe eyes. “So, you don’t hate me?” He asked quietly. Jisung shook his head, moving to wrap his arms around Minho's neck, messing with his hair a bit. “Never.” He said. “And.. You’re not leaving me for Seungmin?” Minho asked, never once breakin eye contact with his lover. Jisung giggled and shook his head again. “No, Minho, I’m not leaving you for Seungmin.” He said. 

Minho leaned down and kissed Jisung softly, which Jisung happily returned the kiss. Minho pulled away with a small peck to his lips. “I’m sorry for being mean.” He whispered, pulling Jisung into his chest, huggimg him softly, resting his head on his. Jisung hummed and hugged the others' waist. “It's okay.. Thank you for talking to me about it.” He said. “Now.. Why’d you come into the rehearsal room?” He peaked up at his lover. “Do dance and try to get the weight off my shoulders. But it's pretty much gone now.” Minho chuckled. Jisungs eyes twinkled as they stared up into Minhos. “How about we still dance, huh? Get energy out of something.” He shrugged. “I’d love that.” Minho giggled. 

Minho pulled away from Jisung and connected his phone to the speaker in the room. He grinned as he clicked on ‘Finesse’ by Bruno Mars. He got in His place next to Jisung, sending him a small giggle before they broke out into the choreo.. Sharing happy laughs and taps as they faced each other. They sang loudly to the song, too happy in their heads to see the others peaking into the door. Jeongin was recording.. “They’re so cute.” He giggled. The others snickered as they dismissed themselves out, Chan having to drag Jeongin away from the door, letting the two have their moment.

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I love the relationship dynamic between these two. I almost did this the other way around, where Jisung gets jealous, but I felt it would add a bit of flavor if it were Minho. plspls send in Stray Kids requests if you guys have any! I hope you have a good rest of your day/night!

all writing rights reserved to @his-angell do not repost or translate my work without my permission.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids lee know #stray kids lee minho #stray kids minho #lee minho #lee know #stray kids han #stray kids han jisung #stary kids jisung #skz #skz lee know #skz lee minho #skz minho #skz han #skz han jisung #skz jisung #stray kids minsung #skz minsung #minsung #minsung fluff #minsung angst #open requests #new writer for stray kids

[his-angell]

thank you for taking care of me. (c.bc)

Plot; Minho invited them out for some drinks. (y/n) may had one too many. Bangchan, as the lovely boyfriend he is, he takes (y/n) home and takes care of her before cuddling her to sleep. Paring; Christopher Bangchan x fem!reader Genre; Fluff Word Count; 1.7k Warnings; Alcohol, (y/n) is intoxicated, Request?; No

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Minho suggested that the boys, and (y/n) of course, all go to the bar. They had a few days off from rehearsals and stuff, so he wanted to get the group out of the house for a night. Of course, none of them opposed, needing a night out for sure. Well, besides Jeongin. He wasn’t really for drinking much. They all had a lot on their shoulders, so they would let all of the worries wash away with some Soju, wine, beer, ect. Cause, how else are you to relax if it's not with alcohol. 

They had all been at the bar for a while. Of course, they’ve all been drinking, dancing, and singing. Chan was always one to lean off the alcohol to watch the youngers. He kept an eye on how much they drank, where they were. He had them pair up so if someone went to the bathroom or something, they would have someone to watch over them, just in case.

He currently had his eyes on (y/n) and Changbin who were doing a chugging challenge. (y/n) slammed her empty cup down, pointing in Changbins face. “Ha! I won!” She exclaimed, grining at the pout that sat on Changbins face. “You’re so mean..” Changbin slurred, pushing (y/n)’s head. She snorted. “Loooooser!” She poked his chest. They were both heavily intoxicated, as well as Minho and Hyunjin, who were at the booth, screaming at each other over whether dogs or cats were better. The others were only slightly tipsy, knowing that Some of them had to be sober enough to watch the others. 

Chan walked over to the two and hummed. “Hey, are you guys ready to go?” He asked. Changbin squinted at him before nodding quickly. “Please! I’m so hot in here!” He whined, walking over to the others. (y/n) blinked at the man in front of her. “(y/n)? You ready to leave, love?” Chan asked. (y/n) shook her head. “No.. I wanna stay a little longer.” She hiccuped. She leaned over the bar. She opened her mouth to ask for a drink, but Chan gently tugged her back. “Ah,ah! No, no more.” He said. “But whyy? I’m not even drunk yet!” (y/n) whined loudly. “I’m pretty sure you're plenty drunk.” Chan laughed. “Nu-Uh!” 

Chan laughed softly and nodded. “Sure okay. Walk to the booth without stumbling and you can have another shot.” He said. “Watch!” (y/n) pushed his chest. She stared at the table, which seemed to drag so far away. She slowly started to walk to the table. She was stumbling just a little. It was enough for Chan to hover his hands over her waist in case she fell. In which.. She did. She screeched as she tripped over her own foot, sending her straight for the table. Where she would have hit her head if Chan didn’t grab her waist and pull her back into him. He held her tightly for a moment before looking down at her. (y/n) looked up at him and huffed before hiccuping. “I think I wanna go home..” She muttered. Chan laughed and nodded. “Okay , love.” He nodded. 

Chan talked to Jisung, Felix and Seungmin. They agreed to take the boys home, so Chan could take (y/n) home. They all exited the bar, waiting for their ubers. Seungmin was heading home with Changbin. Jisung was heading home with Minho. And Felix with Hyunjin. Chan made sure they were all safely in their ubers and on their way before he helped (y/n) to his car. They had all piled into his car and driven here, but knew they would need ubers home. “No, no! Waitt!” (y/n) held her hands out to the male who was trying to get her in the car. Chan raised an eyebrow at her. “I need a kiss first!” She hiccuped. Chan snickered. “How about when we get home yeah? I’ll shower you with all the kisses you wish.” He said. He noticed the pout that sat on his girlfriend's face. He snickered, giving in and pecking a kiss to her lips. “Better?” He asked. The girl smiled brightly and nodded. “Much better.” She giggled. 

Chan finally got her in the car, buckling the seatbelt over her. He rushed to get in the car, starting it. He glanced over at her before he started the drive to their apartment. (y/n) reached over and grabbed Chan's hand. He hummed and interlaced their fingers, the other hand still occupying the wheel. “I loveee you!” She slurred. Chan snickered. “Yeah? I love you too.” He said. “No! No.. Chan- I love love you! Like.. I wanna marry you!” (y/n)’s loud voice filled the car. Chan laughed softly. “Flattering, sweetie.” He said. She huffed. “When are you gonna propose to me, huh?” She leaned over to get in his face. Chan glanced at her with a smirk. “Soon.” He said. This caused a loud gasp from his lover, her squeals and giggles pulling on his heartstrings. 

She grew rather quiet after her fit of excitement, leaning on the window and falling asleep. Chan would glance at her every now and then, gently squeezing her hand, getting a weak squeeze back. He pulled into the lot and parked. He turned off the car and slipped his hand from hers. He got out and rushed to her side. He slowly opened the door, putting in his hand first to keep her from falling out of the car. He opened the door the rest of the way and unbuckled the seatbelt once he had her in a proper hold. She stirred and whined as he went to scoop her up.. “Ghn- No thank you.. I have a boyfriend..” She gently whispered, pushing Chan's hands away. “Baby, I am your boyfriend.” Chan laughed. (y/n) opened her eyes and looked at the male. She giggled a little. “Oopsie..” She leaned onto her lover. 

Chan laughed and scooped her up into his arms. She shrieked and wrapped her legs around his waist. “I got you, (y/n), promise.” Chan reassured as he closed the door and locked the car. He carried her like nothing up the stairs to the apartment, putting in the code and stepping into the dimly lit living space. He slipped off his shoes. He carried (y/n) to their bedroom and set her at the edge of the bed. He gently took her shoes off and set them neatly together on the ground. “I’m gonna get you something comfortable to sleep in, alright? I’ll be right over there in the closet.” He pointed. (y/n) grabbed his hand. “Noo.. Stay.” She said. “I’ll be right back,” Chan pressed a kiss to her hand before slipping away to get her clothes. 

He had grabbed one of his plain black shirts and some shorts. He had also gone into the bathroom to grab a brush and a package of makeup wipes. He returned back and laughed a small bit. (y/n) had laid down, her arms over her face to cover the bright light that shone from the lamp. “Hey, love, sit up for me please.” He instructed. She groaned and slowly sat up. “I wanna sleep!!” She whined. “I know, in a minute, I promise.” Chan said. He gently grabbed the end of her top. “Arms up,” He said as he slipped off the top.. He slipped his shirt over her head. He struggled a bit to get her jeans off, since she kept squirming and pushing his hands away. But he got it after a while, immediately slipping on her shorts. He then grabbed the wipes and took one out, beginning to gently wipe off her makeup. 

“Can you sing to me?” (y/n) pipped up randomly, peaking open one of her eyes. Chan hummed. “Sure, love. What do you want me to sing?” He spoke softly. “Mm.. Bruno Mars.” She giggled. Chan nodded with a small laugh, clearing his throat. He began to sing ‘Marry you’ by Bruno Mars. She swayed a little along to the song, making Chan giggle. He folded the makeup wipe once he was finished and tossed it into the trash by the vanity. He moved to sit behind her, starting to take the small ties out of her braided hair, running his hand through her soft hair, then the brush. He made sure to be as gentle as possible, apologizing anytime she whined or made a sound of discomfort. 

He was finally done and he cleared off the bed. “Okay, up, up, into bed.” He gently helped her crawl up. She cuddled into the white sheets. “Can I have some water? My head hurts..” She looked up at him. “I was just about to get you some,” Chan smiled. He kissed her head and went to the kitchen. He filled a cup with some ice water and grabbed some painkillers. He came back to see his girlfriend already falling asleep. “Hey, babes, here.” He said softly. (y/n) hummed and opened her eyes. She took the painkillers he held out for her, taking the water also and chugging it all. She coughed a little as the water went down the wrong pipe, causing Chan to panic. He sat her up and patted her back a little. “I’m good-” She nodded as she got over her coughing fit. 

Chan nodded a little. He took the cup, setting it on the bedside table. “I gotta change, get comfy.” He snickered. (y/n) hummed and cuddled into the blankets, shivering a little. Chan went to the closet, changing to just some basketball shorts. He tossed his and (y/n)’s dirty clothes into the bin. He went to the bed and crawled under the covers, reaching over to turn out the lamp. He sucked in a breath as (y/n)’s cold hands snaked around his bare waist. He laughed a little, pulling her into his arms. “Thank you for taking care of me.” She slurred sleepily. “Of course, my love. Now get some rest, I'll be right here.” Chan hummed, rubbing her back gently. “I love you, Chris..” (y/n) whispered, looking up at him. “I love you more.” Chan smiled, kissing her softly. She smiled into the kiss before pulling away and cuddling into his chest. They fell asleep soon after that.. 

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This is a silly little thing. I love the idea of how gentle these men would be with you if you were drunk. They're so sweet. I feel like there's a lot that I could do to make this better. But i hope that its okay. Plspls send requests if you guys have any!! I hope you have a good rest of your day/night!!

all rights reserved to @his-angell. do not repost or translate my work without my permission.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #skz fluff #stray kids bang chan #skz bang chan #christopher bangchan #bangchan #bangchan skz #bangchan x reader #bangchan x y/n #stray kids x reader #skz #skz x reader #skz x y/n #writer for stray kids #open requests

[his-angell]

dumb prank. (s.cb)

plot; (y/n) found a stupid prank on Instagram, one where they wouldn't kiss their lover all day. While they thought it was a funny idea, Changbin didn't exactly take it well.

Paring; Seo Changbin x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned!)

Genre; Angst, Fluff

Word Count; 1.1k

Request?; No

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It had been a long day. Not as much for you as it had been for Changbin. He was so tired with filming and rehearsals, he just wanted to curl into the arms of his beautiful lover. But today was so weird. You had been avoiding any kisses from him, any hugs. You only held his hand. You weren’t mad, you weren’t upset. In fact, you were playing a stupid prank on your boyfriend. One you found on instagram. It was to go a day without kissing him. You thought it would be funny, but you hadn’t really thought it through before playing it on the male. Changbin was clingy. Anyone who knew him was aware of that fact. He needed to constantly be holding onto you, whether it be your hand, your waist, your pinky even. He needed to be touching you any time he could.

You had been home for a while. You always hung around with the boys while they were filming, or rehearsing, but today, you had gone home early. You were getting needy for some kisses. But you couldn’t fail your own prank. So you had left Changbin with nothing more than an ‘I love you!’ and a pat on the cheek. He had texted you after you left, asking where his kiss was. In which you only said, ‘Sorry my love, I didn’t wanna make the boys uncomfortable or anything.’ Which absolutely threw Changbin off, since you never had a problem kissing in front of them before now.

It was then the man started to overthink. Did you still love him? Did his breath smell? Was he too clingy? Were you ashamed to love him in front of the others? It had started to affect his performance a bit. He dreaded this all. Chan had noticed his behavior and talked to him. Changbin had told the leader of your weird actions all day. Chan did his best to give the other some words of wisdom. Which helped him through the rest of the day. Thank god.

Changbin had rushed home to you that day. He needed to talk to you. To get some sort of answer of why you were acting like this. He entered the code to your guys’ shared apartment and walked in. He slipped off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket, hanging it up. “Baby?” He called out as he walked further into the apartment. “In here, Bin,” You called out, looking up from your laptop, which you were using to watch some youtube.

Changbin rushed over. He sat down beside you and gently closed your laptop. You frowned as you watched him toss your laptop to the other side of the couch. You chuckled a little. “Yess?” You hummed, raising your eyebrow at your boyfriend, who gave you sad puppy dog eyes. “Why haven’t you given me any kisses today? Or even touched me other than holding my hand?” He asked, staring into your soul with his doe eyes.

You laughed nervously and shrugged. You felt as if he were interrogating you for some horrible crime. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I dunno, just haven't felt like it.” You said. You weren’t ready to end the prank yet. You immediately regretted your choice though as you saw the way your boyfriend's face fell. He moved out of your personal space and looked down. “What do you mean you haven't felt like it?” He mumbled. It was like a punch in the face. Maybe he was taking it to heart, but normally you don’t tell your partner that you don't feel like giving them affection.

His heart ached as he thought about it. “Are you falling out of love with me?” He cracked out, his voice shaky and hesitant. Your eyes widened as you sat up, taking your boyfriend's face. He didn’t meet your gaze. He didn’t want to. He didn’t wanna see the look on your face. You let out a shaky sigh. “Binnie.. No,” You said. “Then why were you acting weird today?” Changbin moved out of your grasp and hid his face in his hands. He sniffed as tears brimmed his eyes.

He knew that he wasn’t overreacting now. He was so sure he was gonna lose the love of his life. It all showed. The way you shrugged him off today. All day! Even when he got home! It was normally everyday that he would come home and cuddle in your arms before dinner. He would shower you with kisses, and you would shower him back. It was something so small and sweet, but so important. He needed it. He needed you. Changbin felt like nothing without you. You were his world. His happiness. His darling love.

His sniffles and soft sobs filled the silence of the apartment. “No, no, no, Bin,” You got off the couch and kneeled in front of him. You moved his hands from his face and held them tightly. “Look at me,” You said, feeling your heart shatter when Changbins teary eyes met your gaze. “It was a prank..” You finally muttered. Changbins eyebrows furrowed. “What?” He whispered. “A prank- Today. It was stupid, I should have never done it. I didn’t stop to think how badly it would hurt you, and I'm so sorry, binnie.” You whispered softly, not breaking eye contact. You need him to know how truly sorry you were.

Changbin sniffled. “So you don’t hate me?..” His voice shook. You shook your head. “No! No, baby, I could never hate you!” You said quickly, taking his face into your hands. “Can I kiss you now then? Please.” Changbin asked, his eyes locked on your lips. You laughed softly and nodded. “Yes please.” You hushed. He pressed his lips to yours and smiled against you. He moved to grab you and pull you into his lap, not breaking the kiss.

After a while, you pulled away for air. You smiled softly. You gently wiped his tears with your thumbs. “I’m sorry, Bin, I really am.” You apologized again. Changbin shook his head. “It's okay..” He hid his face into your neck and hugged your waist. “I love you. Please don’t ever do that again.” He muttered. You hummed and ran your hands through his hair. “I won't. I love you too.” You kissed his head…

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this is a small story I wrote, and it's the first one im posting to tumblr, whoohoo!! This style of writing is new to me, 2nd person I think it is? If theres any mistakes, i'm sorry. I did my best! Most of my writing is in 3rd person, but I wanted to give this a shot. I hope you guys liked it! If there's anything i could do to improve my writing, please do let me know. I am taking requests, so plspls leave them!!

this story is based of a story by, @ppiri-bahng , 'thinking about a no kissing prank gone wrong on Minho.'

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids seo changbin #skz seo changbin #seo changbin #seo chnagbin x reader #seo changbin skz #changbin #skz #seo changbin angst #seo changbin fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #new writer for stray kids #new writers on tumblr #open requests

[his-angell]

˗ˏˋ my fave minsung ficsˎˊ˗

untouched 

touch the stars

you’ve got something on your lips

as long as i can

I keep you in the soft moonlight~

soul unfolds

let the spotlight dim and the night recede

set wide the window

all these ephemeral things

mind in the gutter, heart in your hands

you bring the stars out

Ode to Blue

Cradle me to sweet death

might be love

tonight is for the two of us

Labyrinth, Ending

see / be seen

someone’s maybe

(when i look at you) heaven’s on fire

head, life, heart

[his-angell]

[his-angell]

Request -

Hyunjin getting motion sick while on a road trip with

y/n and the boys and she takes care of him. I want it super fluffy & cutesy cus I’m in the car right now reading and it’s on my mind 🙁🤍

➵ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘

PAIRING. reader x hwang hyunjin [+stray kids]

TAGS. @eunwhore , @sunboki , @spookysins , @lethallyprotected , @dipjria / comment or dm if you want to be in my tag list !

it’s been a long time since your best friend and his friends had holidays. they worked so hard for the past few months, they deserved a break, a real break. you’ve always been close to minho, your best friend, you spent years being neighbors and it was just an evidence that you’ll forever be friends.

when he introduced you to his friends, you fastly became part of their team, it was just like that. chris was like a dad for them and now, you were considered as their mom. it was funny tho, you got to see another part of minho and you find it cute. but, for you, the cutest was hyunjin.

oh you had no problem to admit it. at first, you were amazed by his beauty like, how can a man look sooo pretty ?? you were shocked, but you knew he was more than that, more than just a pretty face. the kids, as you call them, call him genius and they’re totally right about that.

he can sing, he can dance, he can rap, he can draw, he can cook, he can paint… he is just perfect to your eyes. but that’s all he is. he is not perfect for you, you just find him perfect. he made it clear that he doesn’t want a relationship, and he doesn’t know you know.

how do you know ? you heard him and the boys talking about this in the backyard when you entered their house. they were waiting for you, chatting while drinking soft drinks, and you heard them from the living room. you never knew how the conversation started, and they never knew you were aware of this. but at least, the good thing is that it helped you moved on quickly from the ideas you were making in your mind.

it’s kinda sad, isn’t it ? but it’s more sad when you have to take care of them daily, to take care of him. especially when he is sick.

oh boy must’ve eat something bad cause he is never sick in the car but today, he chooses to be. his face was pale and you were far away from your destination. you went to some cities to explore them, and you were heading to your next destination but as soon as you entered the car, he didn’t felt well. and you got to take care of him cause you were sitting next to each other in the back of the car.

“hyunjin, do you want some water ?” he nodded, his throat too dry to speak. you took a bottle of water from the plastic bag, opened it and gave it to the blondie boy. he took a few sip before giving it back to you.

“i think we should stop the car, he isn’t feeling well.” chris was driving the car, felix by his side and minho by yours. jisung, seungmin, jeongin and changbin were in the other, driving behind you.

chris pushed the button for the warnings and drove on the side to park the car, jisung following him. they all immediately got out of the car, coming to yours as minho opened the door to get out. you stayed inside, putting a towel on his head, that you soaked in water beforehand.

they were all outside, talking about why they parked on the side of the road, getting worried for hyunjin’s condition. “are you okay, hyune?” you asked carefully, but he didn’t answered. “do you want to eat something or drink ?” he shooked his head to give you an answer.

“should we go back home ?” changbin asked and they all started to think about it. “i don’t think so, the road is long it will be harder for him to go back home.” you stated. “i think we should continue and see if we find a hotel or something like that so he can rest a little.”

they all approved and you got back into the car, taking hyunjin’s hand in yours. “we’ll try to find something where we can rest.” you told him and he pressed your hand gently. “thank you” he whispered.

you pulled out the towel to place your hand on his head, trying to feel the temperature, but he looks fine. you still put back the soaked towel in place before leaving the car carefully. “he doesn’t feel well, but he doesn’t talk so i don’t really know what wrong…” you said, worry.

“does he has fever ?” chris asked. “no, i don’t think so. not now, at least.” you pressed yours lips together, looking at the boys one by one. they were all worrying for their friend, their brother. “we should go back home.” changbin said but you disagree. “the road back home will be too long for him, it will get worse. i think we should continue to find an hotel or something.”

you found an hotel quickly, which was a relief. hyunjin fell asleep so you stayed with him in the car, waiting for the others to come back.

…

“we only got two rooms for three persons, and there is two rooms for two.” attested jinsung. they started to fight about who’s going to sleep together. “y/n ?” minho turns to you. “mh ?” you got out of your thoughts. “chris is going with felix and seungmin, jisung is going with changbin and jeongin. do you want to sleep alone so i’ll stay with hyunjin ?” you looked at him and then turned to hyunjin. “i think i’ll stay with him, he needs to be taken care of. you guys can go out and do things, it’s your holidays.” “no, we’re not going anywhere without you.” jeongin said and you smiled. “it’s okay guys, go have fun and anything, i’ll stay with him.”

they stayed for a moment, like idiots, standing in front of your door, but they finally left to the grocery store. you waited for hyunjin to wake up, about 15 minutes later, and you walked him to your room. “it looks fine.” you looked around you, the room was clean and smelled good.

he grinned a little, almost falling on the bed. you took off his shoes and his jacket, helping him to go under the blanket. you took another towel, soaked it in water again and put it back on his forehead. he looked up at you with tired eyes and tapped three times on the bed next to him. “c’me here.” he ordered in a soft voice.

you do as he said, sitting next to him. he rolled on his left, placing his head on your thighs, wrapping your legs with arms. you didn’t moved for what looks like eternity, not used to being this close to him. you finally played with his hair, as he fell asleep again.

an hour passed and the boys came back, they knocked at the door and you got out of the bed to open it. “is he okay ?” chris asked immediately before entering first. you nodded, he didn’t throw up or anything, he just looked really tired. “it must be the after effect of work, you guys really worked hard, his body must need some rest. i bet you all need rest.”

they all found their way on the ground to sit down, placing in the middle all the bags with food and drinks. “y/n” hyunjin called you and you went back to his side, going back to the previous position you were in.

the boys looked at you in disbelief, wondering why you guys were that close but you didn’t mind. all you could think about is that hwang hyunjin was sleeping in your arms.

he tried to adjust himself at some point, pulling you closer to him. “you’re such a good friend, y/n.” he said in a murmur, and your heart broke. you swallowed, your throat got dry in a second, trying to fight back the tears from rolling down your face. “the boys brought you some food.” was all you could say.

© connecteyd 2023. 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

i’m so sorry for the late reply, i don’t have notifications on and i’ve lost inspiration so i didn’t came on tumblr for a while. thank you for your request tho, i hope you like it !! it inspired me, but i’m sorry for the sad end ahah. (you still can pretend it didn’t happened and that he confessed tho, as you want !!)

[his-angell]

drunk in love — seo changbin.

trope. best friends to lovers. college au. mutual pining.

synopsis. getting drunk for the first time with the one person you trust the most doesn’t sound like a bad idea, right? even if you’re madly in love with them?

word count. 2.2k words

warnings. drinking, puking, and just everything that comes with being drunk, curse words

note. been in a changbin mood recently so enjoy this !

Everything looks so hazy.

With a shot glass clumsily in hand, you tilt your hand to look around Changbin’s living room in wonder. Everything looks as it has always been, the same pieces of furniture in the same places, and yet it felt totally different.

The walls look a different color, and the television seems to have grown a new pair. How silly to keep two TVs side by side each other.

You giggle at the thought, eyes unfocused as you keep staring at his television with curiosity. Your best friend, currently seated beside you on the couch, carefully grabs the shot glass from your hand to prevent any accidents – taking advantage of the moment where you’re distracted.

A few minutes ago, when he had attempted the same thing, you had gotten upset. Changbin would rather roll down multiple flights of stairs than have you be upset with him again, even if it was unintentional and under the influence of alcohol.

He doesn’t even know what had prompted you to drink in the first place. You had just texted him, completely out of the blue; can we drink tonight lol

And before he could even respond, you were already knocking on his door with a bottle of tequila in hand and a sheepish smile painted on your features. He accepts the offer. For one, he could never say no to you. And secondly, he had no classes tomorrow and he hadn’t drank in a while.

He could use the taste of alcohol to hide behind when it comes to his feelings for you. It’s grown tenfold over the past few weeks, and although he could never trust himself drunk around you (he knows his blabber mouth would confess in one way or another), a few shots wouldn’t hurt.

Plus, he has never drank with you either. To his information, you’ve never drank before either. At all.

Changbin had asked if you wanted to invite any of your friends over, even the guys, but you had asked if it was alright that it was just the two of you for tonight.

It’s because you trust him the most, but you don’t need to tell him that.

If you did, he would’ve exploded. But you didn’t have to know that either.

With the shot glass successfully out of your reach, Changbin doesn’t even try to understand what you’re giggling about. He knows you’re hit, and the wholesome way you’re smiling is too adorable to question. He just lets you stare at his television like it was a Nobel prize winning discovery.

After gawking for a few minutes, you turn your attention to Changbin, scooting so much closer that your knees are pressed together now. Leaning in with a hand covering your mouth, you whisper into his ear.

“Why do you have two TVs?”

Changbin feels like crying at how cute you are.

“I think you might’ve had too much to drink.” You pull away from his face, eyebrows knit as you shake your head in disagreement. You’re too shy to admit you’ve already been hit hours ago.

“I’m dizzy, but I can still understand what’s happening around me. So, I’m just tipsy, right?” You don’t even give him a chance to respond when you start talking about something entirely different, abruptly getting up from your seat to point at the walls.

Changbin follows suit with his hands stretched out in case you fall over.

“When did you get the time to repaint your walls? I liked the old one better.” Eyes blinking rapidly, you step forward a little unsteadily and Changbin has an arm hovering around you in record time. “It changed again just now!”

“Think you’re really drunk, darling.”

“‘M not drunk. Your wall’s being weird.” You brush his statement dismissively, attempting to stumble towards the painted walls to see them up close.

Though, you don’t think your feet want to cooperate with you very much.

Changbin has to pull you to his side before you can trip over your own feet, and you can feel the heat spreading from your neck to your face but you’re unsure if it’s from the alcohol or the close proximity to your best friend.

“Okay. You’re not drunk. I believe you.” His grip tightens around you, and you smile victoriously at the small accomplishment of convincing him you aren’t drunk, even though he knows otherwise.

“Thank you.” You politely respond, bowing unsteadily before looking up at him with your crescent eyes and your crooked grin, and the boy really has to try his best not to get carried away with the overwhelming amount of feelings he has for you.

Especially when you’re looking at him like that.

He fails, of course, hearing his own heartbeat quicken and his palms start to sweat, but at least he tried anyway. In trial of calming himself down, he places his palm on the entirety of your face and pushes you back down to sit on the couch.

Changbin hears nothing but muffled protests from you, but he takes the limited time he has with your eyes peeled to clear his throat and recompose himself before he pulls his hand back.

Get it together, Changbin.

Though, even after having calmed himself, he still finds himself thinking about the way you perfectly fit by his side, like he has always been meant to wrap an arm around your waist.

He wants you so fucking bad, and it really doesn’t help that your cuteness has heightened from the silly lens you’re viewing the world in right now.

Preparing himself for your scolding, he finds that you’ve completely forgotten the way he had manhandled you back on the couch. Instead, you’re gripping at your shirt with your eyebrows twisted, lips pressed in a thin line as if you’re trying to discern the way you’re feeling right now.

“Binnie, I’m a little dizzy now.”

And then you’re getting up again.

“Careful.” He mumbles under his breath, stepping forward. You always trust Changbin to be there before you fall.

Though, ironically, you’ve been falling for a few years now. But you haven’t crashed yet and there’s still time for Changbin to open his arms and catch you if he wanted to.

You can tell he’s tired. You don’t even know what time it is anymore. Everything’s so distorted and it’s all just static to you now. All you know is that you have to get home so Changbin can get his much needed rest.

“Gotta get home now.” You hiccup, body swaying in an alarming way as you try to make a run for his front door.

“Not so fast.” He pulls you back, allowing you to rest most of your weight on him when you stumble back. “You’re sleeping here tonight. Can’t let you go home like this. Hmm? Who’s gonna take care of you?”

“You gonna take care of me?” Your voice has grown incredibly soft now, hands gripping his arms to keep yourself standing.

“Mhm.” He leans forward to brush away the hair falling in front of your face, tucking the loose strands behind your ear so it doesn’t bother you so much.

“Thank you, Binnie. You always take care of me.”

Changbin thinks he’s gonna pass out again because here you are, looking at him again. In some delusional way, it makes him think you feel the same as him, even though he thinks it’s just wishful thinking.

“Stop looking at me like that. Makes it really hard for me.”

“Makes it hard to what?” You’re standing on your tiptoes to try and mirror his height so your face is directly in front of his now, and Changbin has to hold both of your arms to prevent you from falling on top of him completely.

“Not to kiss you.” He mumbles begrudgingly. It’s okay, you won’t remember this tomorrow. He thinks. Or, he hopes.

But if you do, he’s equally hoping you admit you’ve always wanted to kiss him too.

“What’s stopping you?” Another hiccup.

“You’re drunk.” Changbin deadpans, pinching your cheeks, and immediately regretting his decision when a pout sports your lips and your eyebrows knit together in the most adorable way possible.

“I told you ‘m not drunk!” You let your head fall on his shoulder.

Only a few seconds of silence pass before you’re speaking again. Although, your tone’s a little more troubled. “Uh oh. I don’t feel too good.”

You don’t really remember how you got to the bathroom. The only thing you can feel is a hand rubbing your back and another pulling your hair back as you’re hunched over his toilet seat, vomiting out whatever you had for dinner earlier.

Tears prick in your eyes, and then you’re hurling again, coughing out as if it’ll help you feel any better about the circumstance you’re under. You don’t even notice Changbin has left your side until he comes back with a glass of water, making sure you drink all of it after wiping away the corners of your mouth.

“Sorry.” You frown, lips starting to tremble as you stare down at the floor, clearly dejected and ashamed.

Changbin sits down on his bathroom floor next to you, continuing to rub your back like he did earlier. “It’s okay. This kind of thing happens.”

“But it’s gross, and now you’ll never like me. You’ll like someone else who doesn’t vomit in your toilet.” He lets out a breathy laugh at how sad you sound, and you’re starting to feel embarrassed.

“Hey. I like you even when you vomit in my toilet.”

You look up at him with doe eyes, and you suddenly feel so much better. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Mkay. Thank you.” You smile stupid to yourself, playing with your fingers and suddenly feeling shy.

Changbin finds the sight endearing, and feels his heart expand in fondness every time you say ‘thank you’ at even the most minuscule thing – when he “believed” you were drunk, when he had let you stay the night, when he told you he still liked you even when you puke.

He snaps out of his thoughts when he catches you yawning.

“You tired? Gonna get you some clothes to change into, okay?”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Not gonna let you sleep in that. You’ll be uncomfortable.” He pats your head once he’s stood up from having sat on the bathroom floor next to you.

“Oh. You’re right.”

You don’t protest further, humming to yourself as you wait for him to come back.

He returns with some of his spare clothes and a damp face towel. After wiping your face, he allows you to change into your clothes after having convinced him you could do it. He can’t help but laugh when you walk out of his bathroom with his shirt on backwards.

You immediately fall face first on his bed, groaning out at how comfortable his bed was. Changbin smiles fondly at the sight, helping you tuck yourself in comfortably. You blink up at him, patting the space next to you.

“Come to bed now.”

“Gotta change too, okay? Give me a few minutes.”

You whine childishly when he makes his way to his bathroom. “Binnie, where are you?”

“Just a few more minutes.”

“But Binnie! I’m cold. And.. and… what if someone suddenly came in and took me away! It’ll be all your fault.” You try to play with the cards that you’re dealt with, scheming to say anything that could guilt trip Changbin into speeding up in the bathroom so he could be beside you right now.

“Okay, okay. I’m here, I’m done.”

You’re grumpy now, even with his favorite blanket wrapped around you. When he sits down beside you on his bed, you’re scooting away slightly to really sell the part.

“You mad at me?” He whispers, smiling to himself when you nod your head.

“You left me all alone.”

“Just so I’m wearing clean clothes when I cuddle you.”

“You’re gonna cuddle me?” You ask with wide eyes.

“You said you were cold, hm?”

It doesn’t take much after that before you’re wrapped in his arms instead, head resting comfortably on his chest as you sigh out in relief. This feels nice. His arms feel warm and comfortable. It’s warmer than it was when you were just under the covers.

“You still mad?”

“‘M not mad anymore. You’re forgiven.” Changbin grins, threading his fingers through your hair gently to help you sleep quicker. He knows you’re tired, from the way you drawl out your words, and the way you simply collapse into him.

He rests his free arm around you comfortably, just by your hips, and he continues to look down at you attentively in case you jolt awake in need of something. He only completely relaxes when he hears soft snores from you.

Placing a soft kiss on the top of your head, Changbin allows himself to shut his own tired eyes closed. Even though he had been exhausted from the events of the day prior, he finds he’d do it all over again for you if you asked him to.

As for you, you’re not quite sure you want to drink as hard as you did today. One thing you are sure of is you never want to leave, with your head resting just below Changbin’s neck, and his hand running through your hair.

You don’t wanna be anywhere else but with the one person you trust the most.