Gatecrasher - Seo Changbin

how skz loves you - hyung line

pairing: ot8 hyung line x reader

summary: how skz hyung line would love you.

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, crack

a/n: want the maknaes ?

bang chan ♡

chan shows his love through constant care and attention. He always checks in on you, sending messages to make sure you’re okay, even when he's busy. He remembers the little things, like your favorite snacks or the way you like your coffee (if you drink it, ofc), and makes sure to have them ready for you. Chan is the type to notice when you’re feeling down before you even say anything, offering a warm hug or a quiet moment together to help you feel better. He loves to leave little notes or texts reminding you of how much you mean to him, often signing off with a simple "I’m here for you." Whether it’s making sure you’re bundled up before heading out into the cold or staying up late just to talk, Chan’s love is steady, reassuring, and always present in the smallest gestures <3

lee know ♡

his love is shown through his subtle, yet deeply thoughtful actions. He’s not always the most verbal about his feelings, but his love is evident in the way he takes care of you. He might quietly do things like make your bed in the morning or prepare your favorite meal without being asked. He’s also incredibly protective, always walking on the side of the street closest to the road or holding your hand in crowded places to keep you close. Minho also loves to surprise you with small, meaningful gifts—like a keychain from a place you mentioned wanting to visit or a plushie that reminds him of you. His teasing is also a sign of his affection, using humor and playfulness to make you smile. When you’re together, he’s always making sure you’re comfortable, from adjusting your pillow to turning off the lights when you’re too tired to move <3

changbin ♡

changbin expresses his love through a blend of playfulness and sincerity. He loves to make you laugh, always coming up with silly jokes or playful banter to brighten your day. His love language is often physical; he enjoys holding your hand, giving you tight hugs, or playfully wrestling with you just to hear you laugh. But beyond the jokes, Changbin is incredibly attentive—he notices when you’re stressed and will do his best to cheer you up, whether that’s through a spontaneous snack run or an impromptu dance party in the living room. He also loves to show off in small ways, like lifting heavy things for you or flexing his muscles jokingly, just to see your reaction. Despite his tough exterior, he’s soft at heart and isn’t afraid to let you see that side of him, always making sure you know just how much he cares <3

hyunjin ♡

Hyunjin’s love is shown through his artistic, romantic gestures. He’s the type to leave you beautiful drawings or poems, expressing his feelings in creative ways. He loves to take you on impromptu dates to art galleries, cozy cafes, or scenic spots where you can talk and enjoy each other’s company. Hyunjin is incredibly affectionate, often brushing your hair out of your face or holding your hand in a gentle, comforting way. He’s also very in tune with your emotions, offering a comforting presence when you’re feeling low. Hyunjin loves to spoil you with little surprises, like a bouquet of flowers just because he was thinking of you, or a handmade bracelet that he spent hours perfecting. His love is shown in the way he looks at you—his eyes filled with admiration and affection, as if you’re the most precious, beautiful thing in his whole entire world <3

a/n: comment for the maknae line version ♡

‧₊ a little bit sweeter - (roommate!han jisung x reader) ˚‧

pairing: college roommate!han jisung x reader

summary: jisung realises that he feels something more for his roommate who loves to bake.

genre: college!au, mentions of eating and drinking, slightly suggestive ? kissing, jisung being a whole simp for reader, one sus joke, making cookies (bc i'm craving them so bad rn)

a/n: hihi~ inspired by this post, so i'm tagging @butteredsushi and @jisunggy thanks for the fic inspo guys <3 div by @kodaswrld

skz masterlist

"Whatcha doing?"

You look up just as Jisung, your roommate, enters the kitchen, no doubt drawn by the clattering noises that you've filled the flat with. He hops up on the counter, peeking behind you in interest, where you've set a heap of bowls and pans onto the countertop.

"Just wanted to make something," you exhale, poking his cheek before moving to find the bowl you're looking for. Jisung hums and sits back on the counter, leaning on his hands as he watches you clumsily sift through the pile, muttering to yourself.

"Do I get to eat whatever it is that you're making?" He asks carefully, secretly crossing his fingers in a hope you'll say yes.

You huff and stand up from where you've been bending and peering into the cabinets. "Ji, we literally live together."

"Yeah, but like, were you planning to eat it all by yourself?"

You laugh, gesturing for him to open the cupboard directly below his feet, which he does. "Maybe, but we both know you would have eaten most of it. Do you want to eat something specific?"

"Cookies," he says instantly, not hesitating. His cheeks flush pink.

You roll your eyes, taking out a spoon. "Should've known."

Jisung throws his hands up defensively. "What? They're good for days like this, with the weather how it is right now. Be for real."

He has a point, you think as you look out the window.

It's drizzling in a fine swell over what you can see of the city, a heavy, almost blue fog casting itself like a blanket over the buildings. Classes ended early today, and you'd wanted nothing more to rush back to your dorm and rid yourself of the soaked, cold clothes you'd had to be in all morning.

To say the least, it had been extremely unpleasant weather, and it had taken at least an hour standing under the steaming water of the shower to try and bring your body's temperature up again.

You shiver as your eyes flicker over to the door, your still-wet shoes leaking droplets of storm water onto the plastic bag you'd set them upon in an attempt to keep the floor dry. Jisung was already back from his lecture by the time you got in, and he hadn't even looked up as you'd rushed into your room and slammed the door, soaking wet and chattering as you turned the water on.

At least, you think he hadn't looked up at you. In reality, he'd been waiting for the moment the door would open and you would come in.

But you didn't notice. You never do.

You set two more bowls onto the counter, missing the way Jisung's eyes follow yours as you move across the floor, gaze fixed on the way your hair is still drying, hanging in little damp clusters over your ears and nape. Your cheeks are flushed, most likely from the boiling water you shower in, and your figure is swamped in an oversized hoodie and a pair of grey sweats. His heart jolts as he looks you up and down, trying to fight that warm feeling that seems to rise in his chest every time he meets your gaze.

I have a hoodie that looks almost the same... it looks like you're wearing my clothes. That'd be so hot...

"...and then I had to rush all the way back here because it was so cold and rainy outside. You have a point, to be honest; I was thinking about eating something warm and delicious when I got back, but I wanted something a little bit sweeter- Ji. Ji, are you listening?"

"H-huh?" He shakes his head, thoughts of you in his clothes hastily evaporating. "Uh, yeah."

You point a measuring cup at him cheekily. "Liar. What's wrong? Are you too hot? I can turn the thermostat down if you want... I turned it up super high when I got back because it was so cold-"

"N-no, it's okay," he interrupts. "Sorry. Just a long morning. Classes and all that."

You shoot him a sympathetic look, opening a packet of self-raising flour. "Yeah, I get that. Poor you... And all this rain, too... not really ideal for all the walking we have to do nowadays."

Jisung can't help but smile softly at your rambling, holding the edge of the bowl as you almost knock it off the countertop. Your measuring spoon gets bumped in the process and a small puff of flour spills onto Jisung's knee, dusting the loose, black denim.

"Oops," you say sheepishly, setting the cup down. "Sorry."

He's about to reply and tell you it's okay before his gaze flits down to your hand, which is gently brushing off his knee. And suddenly, he can't seem to focus on anything but your touch. It's warm, even through the thick fabric, and he finds himself wishing you'd bumped the measuring cup a little harder so you could be brushing off all the flour for longer, your fingers gentle against his leg.

He doesn't even mind that there's a subtle white patch on the denim where it spilt.

You scratch the back of your head. "Hang on, let me get a paper towel-"

"No, don't worry," he blurts out. "I-it's fine."

You look up in surprise, tapping another cupful of flour into the bowl before adding a haphazard mix of baking soda, salt, and cornstarch over it. "Are you sure? I'm gonna make a mess in this place. I don't want your clothes to get dirty..."

"It's fine," he says again, a little more confidently. "I can just take them off."

You splutter, sending a puff of flour into the air, making both of you cough as Jisung waves his hands frantically, cheeks scarlet.

"I-i didn't mean it like that," he coughs, flustered. "I meant-"

"I know what you meant," you say, fighting a grin as you turn away to open the fridge. "Honestly, Ji."

He drops his face into his hands just as you crack two eggs into another bowl, heading back to the fridge for the stick of half-finished butter on the top shelf. You've learnt to buy more butter than you think you need; your roommate has a habit of using far too much butter than necessary on his toast. Not that your topping habits are much better; the Nutella jar is usually empty after a day.

Anyways.

Placing the rest of the butter in a small glass bowl, you set the microwave timer for 30 seconds before closing the door. Jisung's eyes follow the bowl spinning round and round inside, the butter seeping and melting into an oily mess against the glass edges.

His fingers tap against the countertop as you move your bowls over to where he's sitting, your shoulder brushing his arm as you busy yourself with tipping brown and granulated sugar into yet another bowl. Jisung cheekily dips his finger into the mixture and brings it to his mouth as you smack his hand away, relishing the raw, saccharine taste of the grains.

"You have to stop doing that.. Ew, Ji!"

He wipes his finger nonchalantly on your arm, much to your disgust. Ignoring your groans, he hums to himself as you take the melted butter from the microwave, slamming the door shut again.

"Stop doing what?" He says innocently.

"Dipping your little thieving paws into the bowls... you'll contaminate it. And wiping said paws on my arm..."

"So?" He says, grinning, ears still red from his earlier comment. "It's not like anyone else but you and me are eating the stuff you make."

You huff and tip the butter into the bowl, spilling half of it in the process. "I'm gonna put raisins in these if you keep provoking me."

"No!"

"Shut up and stop bothering me then," you huff, one hand coming up to matter-of-factly wipe a tiny speckle of sugar from the corner of his lip.

He's about to make a comment, but he goes silent; his face turns the colour of the cherry tomatoes in the fridge crisper as you whisk the butter into the sugar mixture. You don't even notice how quiet he's gone, and as a habit, begin to ramble.

"I can't believe the mixer broke," you say absentmindedly. "I had to search for ages and ages for a recipe that didn't need a mixer for the process. It's actually so much easier to melt the butter too... last time I did this, I didn't mix it all in properly so the cookies tasted horrible after- not that you cared, of course, because I came back to the glass dish where I put them in a day before and they were all gone- Ji, you're not listening again."

"Yes I am," he says, strained. His face is red.

"No you're not. Anyways, I had to find substitutes for most of the ingredients until I could get to the store last week.."

You run off on yet another tangent about the recipe and different methods of baking and flavours, but all Jisung can focus on is the fact that you just touched his lip, wiped away whatever it was that what on his mouth, without so much as blinking. Like it was nothing... He finds himself beginning to panic a little; his face still feels all hot and tingly.

They just wiped my mouth for me... Wait, isn't that what couples do in the movies?? Does that mean.. no, it doesn't, because they didn't even blink when they did it. There's no way they feel the way I do right now, like this- is it hot in here? My face feels so warm...

He's about to lift the neckline of his hoodie to try and fan some air into his body, but not before something sweet-smelling and textured lands on the apple of his cheekbone.

He freezes, watching as you dip a finger into a bowl full of white paste. Frosting.

You know Jisung likes frosting on his cookies; it's a fact he hasn't even told you, but you know from the way he always secretly opens the tub of ready-made icing in the fridge that he likes them to be eaten that way. You always make a bowl of it whenever you bake now, just for him. Currently, you can't get over the look on his face; shocked, and almost distant, like he was distracted by something.

You managed to crack the eggs, mix all the ingredients together, add chocolate chips to the mixture, form the dough into balls, and put it all into the oven without him making so much as a comment. And then slightly warm up the icing too. He's never been this quiet.

Like, ever.

"Are you okay?" You smile. "You look a million miles away."

He gulps and watches as you dip a different finger into the icing, some of it remaining on your lip as you lick your fingertip clean. He can feel the tiny dollop of frosting you've dotted on his cheek. It's probably melting with how hot his face feels.

His gaze never leaves your mouth, and his eyes flit to the mess you've made of the counter; there's not a single ingredient you haven't managed to spill a quantity of. Most of it is staining your clothes too, not that you seem to care.

Y/n...

"Ji?" You wave a hand in front of his face, trying to rid him of the glazed look in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Silence. Then-

"You look so beautiful," he murmurs.

It slips out so unexpectedly that he can't even bring himself to be surprised or regretful about it; if he never tells you, you'll never know how stunning you look in the moment, all damp hair and flour-smeared cheeks.

And maybe you don't look lovely to anyone else, but to Jisung, he's never seen anything more beautiful. And in a moment of instant clarity, he knows he's regret it forever if he doesn't tell you how he's felt for so long. Or worse, if someone else decides to tell you the same thing, and he never gets his chance...

You blink at the unexpected sentiment, not thinking much of it. "Thanks."

Turning away, you pick up a bowl and deposit it in the sink before Jisung pulls you back by the shoulder, you tumbling between his legs from where he's still sitting on the counter.

You don't even get a moment to process what's happening before his mouth is pressed gently against yours, tasting of sweet icing and brown sugar.

You mold yourself immediately into his embrace as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you a little closer as his head tilts to the left. You're pretty sure he's almost breaking his neck, kissing you like this, but you couldn't care less, and it seems, neither can he.

"Jisung," you exhale against his lips, almost gasping.

"Sorry," he whispers, though there's a hint of cheekiness behind it that he can't quite disguise. "Should've asked to kiss you..."

You giggle and pull him in again, your hands finding their way to his nape, playing with the tiny, soft hairs there before he pulls back to gaze at you. "It's okay."

He looks too far gone now; his hair is deliciously rumpled from you running your fingers every which way through it, his cheeks still stained pink. The frosting on his cheek is smeared, a long, pale streak against the perfect planes of his skin.

You're about to pull him in again, and his mouth eagerly moves towards yours, but he only gets a light brush against your lips before the oven timer rudely interrupts, beeping and echoing in the silence of the flat. He groans as you turn away and reach across to switch it off.

You hear Jisung laugh breathlessly behind you as you peer through the oven glass; the cookies, once round and perfect, have now spread into a chocolatey mess across the baking tray, and you can see several small bits of dough beginning to burn dark against the hot surface of the oven grilles.

"Shit," you mumble as Jisung pulls you back into him, peppering kisses over your face. "I forgot to chill the dough before I put them in..."

"Screw that," he sighs against you. "We should chill instead. Just us, hmm? Cancel whatever plans you had..."

"Done," you whisper. "But what about the cookies-"

Jisung pulls you impossibly closer, his breath a warm fan across your cheeks and neck.

"Forget that," he murmurs. "I have something sweeter."

a/n: i forgot how fun writing jisung is >< asks open !

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

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

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

series masterlist

part 5 : white knight and black knight

"You ready?" Jisung asked.

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

He was just so easy to be friends with.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, not focused.

Tense.

Like he was worried about something.

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

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

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

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

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

Out of his way, most likely.

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

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

The instant the green signal flared, they were off.

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

How had he gotten there so fast?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her hands tightened on the wheel. This is it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was beautiful.

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

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

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

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

"Yes?"

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

"Um, congratulations. For winning the race."

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

"Thank you."

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

"Stealing Jisung's things, hmm?"

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

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

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

All this time?

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

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

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

"Don't get cocky, rookie."

"Okay."

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

Y/n watched him go.

☆★☆

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

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

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

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

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

"Um, your car-"

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

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

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

Opposites.

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

White knight and black knight.

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

"I'm sorry."

What?

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

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

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

"Oh. Um- it's okay."

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

"I thought you'd be pissed."

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

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

"You look like a pufferfish," she snickered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let's go sit down."

☆★☆

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

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

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

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

"Jisung?"

"Hmm?"

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

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

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

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

"Oh, we know him all right."

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

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

"Mhm, totally..."

"Oh, shut up, Jisung."

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

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

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

"Lee Felix."

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

im starting to fear im clogging your reqs with changbin suggestions, sorry about that 😞 but your writing is so good i swear, hoping i can think about some more to send you

no don't even worry anon ! i love seeing new requests. don't ever be afraid to send them in, no matter which member it's for 🤍

let me know if you've got any more ideas ! love from mochi 🥰

outfit - yang jeongin

pairing: yang jeongin x reader

summary: you help jeongin choose his outfit of the day

genre: non-idol! au, lil bit of crack, just chill tbh

a/n: no one say anything about the hasty shoe choices in this fic

"How about these? Which one?"

Jeongin holds up a pair of denim jeans and a pair of baggy, black cargo shorts. He grins as you pull an overexaggerated thinking face. The bedroom is disheveled, every surface (including the floor) strewn with heaps of clothing articles and accessories.

You and Jeongin are in various stages of undress, trying on different outfits and mixing-and-matching each other's belongings. You're dressed in your own pair of shorts and one of Jeongin's ridiculously oversized hoodies, the sleeves going about twenty centimetres past your fingertips (though he is pretty tall in comparison to you, to be fair).

Jeongin's in a white t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, one of your favourite lace-tipped socks on his left foot and a thick, black sock on the other. He's been messing around all morning, trying to style outfits, and you'd been roped into it.

Not that you minded.

Jeongin pouts as you suddenly snatch the pair of denim jeans, tossing them somewhere onto the floor.

"Aw, why not the denim?"

You snicker. "You look too much like Felix. He's always wearing denim."

"Not like anyone can tell the difference," he rolls his eyes and drops to his knees, digging around. You know he's talking about Changbin. Jeongin lets out a triumphant "a-ha" as his hand resurfaces holding a crossbody bag, checkered in black and white. You grin just as he fastens it around his waist. He looks ridiculous. Mainly because of the pretty, girly sock on his foot. That, and his shorts don't match.

"Innie, take the sock off, and put this on," you hand him a pair of long black shorts to him and he groans.

"I've changed bottoms almost a hundred times-"

"You're the one who dragged me into doing this in the first place. Don't complain."

He whines but puts the shorts on. You glance at his feet pointedly and he very reluctantly takes both mismatched socks off, replacing them with a pair of white Nike socks. The whole outfit looks a lot more coordinated now.

"That looks a lot better, Innie."

"Do you think so? It's still missing something."

"Shoes, pabo."

"Oh, right!"

Jeongin disappears into the hallway, and you can hear him padding to the shoe cupboard. A loud bang follows, and a couple of thumps. There's several minutes of faint scuffling, and Jeongin scurries back into the room, breathless but holding a suitable pair of black sneakers.

You roll your eyes. "Did you make a mess?"

He looks away pointedly, hurriedly. "Just- fixed some things."

You sigh, not even remotely surprised, and wait as he slips the sneakers on, haphazardly tying the laces. He straightens and runs a hand through his hair, glancing at you expectantly.

You laugh. "It looks great."

"Does it?"

You nod, moving to pick items of clothing up off the floor. You're stopped suddenly and pushed back onto the bed, the oversized hoodie sleeves flapping as you fight to rebalance. You huff up at Jeongin with a confused, slightly haughty expression.

"What are you doing?"

Jeongin grins. "My turn to pick your outfit."

"No!"

a/n: innie's such a style icon

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

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

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

HEYYYYYY I'm new to your blog and I just wanted to say that I L O V E your writing!!!!! You have no idea of how much comfort it gives me 😭

aww tank you sm . . . as writers we love this sort of encouragement, it encourages us to keep going and writing for you guys <3 glad you like the fics, anon ><

hope it continues to help, asks are open if you wanna have a tailored fic written for you <3

bed hair jiminie

lonely st. ✧ chapter iv : falling

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)

warnings: lonely reader, school!au, hyunjin's knees are finally healing, someone else is kinda mean to y/n, swearing, descriptions of panic attacks and forced isolation, hyunjin is the sweetest softest boy ever

a/n: ...this took a while

series masterlist | skz masterlist

"Yah, Hyunjin, what the fuck did you do to your knees?"

Hyunjin looked across at Jisung, pulling his basketball jersey on.

"Oh," he said calmly. "I fell."

Jisung tutted at him, waggling a finger in Hyunjin's face. They were the last three boys in the changing rooms, having been split into smaller teams for longer, more individualized training. Felix watched the interaction with interest, piping up.

"You fall over a lot, you know," he observed. "Surprisingly often for the school's star basketball player."

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, turning back to his locker, tying the cords of his shorts. His gaze flitted down to his knees, where he'd stuck the bandaids Y/n had given him. They were quite sticky considering the designs; Hyunjin had seen Jisung buy colourful bandaids that didn't last more than ten minutes.

Two of the bandages were stuck to his left knee, one yellow with a smiley face across it, and the other solid stripes of light pink and purple, like a Cheshire cat. The one on his right knee was lime green, with solid black writing that detailed 'I'M OKAY' in wobbly writing. He loved them so much.

The fourth bandaid he'd stuck to his face, replacing the little chicken one that had peeled off. It was white, with a little pink and black spider in the middle, his favourite one so far. Truthfully, the little cut on his cheekbone had practically healed by now and didn't need anything covering it, but Hyunjin liked wearing the bandaids. It made him feel connected to Y/n, and he felt brighter somehow, as if he was one of her colourful keychains or pins.

Shaking his head, he turned back to Jisung and Felix with a smile. "Just a clumsy spell, I guess. It should heal before the championship."

Felix side-eyed him from his own locker. "It better. Jisung is hopeless on offense-"

"I'm not!"

Hyunjin let a small laugh escape his mouth. He looked across at his friends, neatly folding his uniform and placing it neatly on the shelf. He paused in his actions.

Jisung was holding his shirt above Felix's head, clearly attempting to hit him, the other boy's arms braced against his temples. They were both frozen, staring at Hyunjin with gaping mouths.

Hyunjin blinked, cutting himself off. "You know, I- what?"

Jisung whispered. "You laughed."

Hyunjin frowned. "What? Is it illegal now?"

Felix scrambled up from his position. "No, no, it's just- you've been so downcast lately. We thought something was really wrong."

Jisung chimed in. "Yeah. First it was the falling over at practice, then the being distracted during class. We were pretty worried, dude."

Hyunjin felt a little guilty at having worried his friends. His cheeks flushed and the bandaids on his knees and face suddenly felt like burning beacons. Jisung had promised not to tell anyone about his attempts to befriend Y/n, but he hadn't approved or disapproved of it. And Felix was a close friend too, but Hyunjin felt there would always be a possibility that they might not like it. Either that, or they would think he liked her. Most likely the second option.

His voice was quiet as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. "I just felt stressed the last few days. I've just had a lot to do."

Felix's eyes narrowed. "You're literally never busy...?"

Panic set into Hyunjin's gut, frantic and buzzing. He stuttered a little, trying to come up with a quick lie to fool his friend.

"It's because of Y/n," Jisung blurted out suddenly.

Hyunjin threw his hands up in exasperation. "Jisung! I told you not to say anything!"

Felix's eyes bounced between them. He walked closer to Hyunjin, his gaze confused. "Y/n? You mean the weird loner girl in our class? The one who always disappears at breaktimes?"

"She's not weird," Hyunjin snapped at him, voice echoing in the locker room.

Felix's eyes widened a little, clearly taken aback. Jisung shut his mouth immediately, his friend's unusual outburst blanketing the room in a thick, heavy silence.

"You don't have to be such a jerk, Felix," Hyunjin flared at him again, well aware of the nastiness in his voice.

"Alright, man. Sorry."

Felix's voice was quiet, subdued, and Hyunjin felt a rush of remorse settle heavily in his stomach, the feeling sour in his mouth. He exhaled and sat down on the bench, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Just- she's not weird."

Felix gingerly sat down next to him. He was shirtless, having been halfway through taping his shoulder, and Hyunjin could feel the heat radiating off his skin. Felix placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as Jisung moved to sit down on his other side.

"I didn't mean it, Hyunjin," Felix's voice was soft, almost a whisper.

Hyunjin exhaled, running a hand through his dark, sleek hair. "It's fine. Just- she's not mean and intense and cold like everyone thinks she is. She gave me the chicken bandaid after I fell that time at practice, and all of these too." He gestured to his knees.

"I was wondering where you got those from," Felix chuckled, touching the one on his friend's face. "They're cute. Did you ask her for them?"

"No," Hyunjin replied softly, the ghost of a smile on his face. "She noticed both times and gave them to me. Felix, you don't understand, she's really sweet. Maybe a bit shy and awkward, but not cold. Not at all."

Felix smiled across at Jisung as Hyunjin talked. Jisung pouted cutely, pressing a hand discreetly to his heart in an 'aww' gesture.

"I wonder if she carries them around," Jisung said thoughtfully. "Maybe she's clumsy just like you, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin nodded silently in response. Now that he thought of it, he couldn't actually recall seeing her wear any of the colourful bandaids, not even on her hands or under the hem of her skirt. He wondered what she could possibly need them for.

Jisung leaned his head against Hyunjin's shoulder as Felix spoke up.

"Are you gonna get mad at me if I ask if you maybe, possibly, sort of like her?"

Hyunjin shook his head. "No, I don't. But there's no harm in being her friend. I don't know her that well, like, at all, but if I can make her life a little easier, then I should."

Jisung smiled. "That's sweet, dude. Maybe, once you get closer with her, we could start talking to her too."

Felix grinned, agreeing.

"Thanks," Hyunjin said softly. "I'm just going to be cautious around her from now on because I don't want to scare her off again. But maybe, once she opens up a little bit."

Jisung stood up, slapping his friend on the back. "Alright, that's settled, then. Let's go out to practice now. Oh, and Hyunjin, don't worry us like that again, man... It was weird not hearing your 1000 decibel laugh."

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, Felix snickering in the background.

"Don't worry," he said. "I won't."

Y/n kept her head down as she weaved throughout the students laughing and shouting in the hallways. The corridors were always busiest at lunchtimes. She ducked her head to avoid a tall senior who was wildly gesturing his arms in an animated retelling to his friend.

Looking behind her to make sure she wasn't about to get hit in the head, Y/n came up short just as she almost bumped headlong into Yeji. Her heart sank.

"Hey!" she greeted, smiling. "Haven't seen you in a while."

Y/n's fingers tightened around her sketchbook, fingers digging into the smooth, sticker-bombed surface. She gulped, palms beginning to sweat as she stared at Yeji. She'd been friends with her for almost three years, and there were not grudges between them, but for some reason Y/n found she couldn't reply.

"Um, yeah," she replied rather stiffly.

Yeji tilted her head, waving a hand in Y/n's face. "Helloooo? Anyone home?" She giggled.

Y/n flinched as Yeji's perfectly manicured hand waved in her face. She felt a searing pang of frustration and irritation shoot through her. Stepping back, she clutched her sketchbook to her chest, not knowing how to get out of the situation. The air around her suddenly felt hotter, and her shoulders were tense, like stretched rubber bands.

"Hey, Y/n!"

Y/n let out a tiny, gasping breath as Hyunjin jogged up to them. His hair was mussed and slightly slick, his tie loose and shirtsleeves rolled up messily. He must have come straight from playing basketball on the courts. Y/n saw Yeji subconsciously reach up to fix her hair, drawing a pale, pretty hand through the dark orange locks, pressing her lips together to even out the sparkly pink gloss smeared across them.

But Hyunjin paid her no mind, his smile directing its force towards Y/n. She noticed a textbook under his arm.

He tilted his head at her, inviting. "Did you wanna go to the library?"

Y/n was taken aback. There was a look in Hyunjin's eyes, some sort of layer to them that Y/n had never seen before. They were sort of slitted, his eyebrows slightly raised.

He's trying to get me out of the situation, she realised.

"S-sure," she stuttered, cursing herself inwardly.

Hyunjin gave Yeji an effortless smile and gestured for Y/n to walk alongside him. Yeji's smile dropped as he walked a few paces past her to Y/n.

Dropping her head, Y/n shuffled to him and he began to make casual, friendly conversation as they walked down the hallway. clearly attempting to distract her.

Yeji glared after them.

Hyunjin glanced across at Y/n as she slumped down into her usual seat, the table hidden from the rest of the library by the tall, slightly dusty shelves. He sat down delicately next to her, shuffling his chair a little bit away from her so as to give her space.

Her head was down on the desk and Hyunjin sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, wondering if he'd messed things up. But she hadn't looked exactly comfortable when he'd seen her talking to Yeji. He'd calmly observed from a distance, until Yeji had waved her hand in Y/n's face.

He knew she probably meant no harm, but it was clear that Y/n was beginning to panic after she flinched, so he had jogged up to her to try and give her an excuse to leave.

Hyunjin wondered if Y/n and Yeji were really friends. He'd seen them together a few times, talking, usually in a group with Ha-eun, Aeri, and Sangmi, but for some reason Y/n always seemed like she wasn't enjoying herself, usually quietly listening to the others talk excitedly or with her face buried in her sketchbook.

Hyunjin frowned a little, running his fingertips along the side of his closed textbook. If she had friends, why did she choose to be alone? Were they bullying her?

"Hey," he whispered. "You okay?"

He could hear tiny, short gasps coming from her side of the table and he fidgeted desperately, not sure what to do. He was pretty sure she was panicking. He'd heard Jisung do the same thing a couple times, usually after really important basketball matches. But he didn't understand why it happened, or what it was. Jisung kept it quiet, and Hyunjin didn't wish to intrude, so he'd patted his friend on the back and fetched his coach.

Then he had left.

You can't do that to Y/n, Hyunjin thought. I can't leave her, but I'm afraid if I stay, I might make it worse.

He scooted his chair just a tiny bit closer, keeping note of her breathing. His hand hovered unsurely over her back, wanting to offer some sort of comfort. Jisung had told him that different people liked to be comforted in different ways. He wondered how Y/n preferred to be treated when she was upset. He made a mental note to ask her later.

Leaning down to her level, Hyunjin placed one arm on the table, turning his head towards her. He exhaled and the warm breath stirred Y/n's hair. She didn't move. Hyunjin could see one hand pressed to her mouth, covering it. The other was hidden by her blazer lapel, pressed against her chest. Her knee was bouncing up and down rapidly and Hyunjin bit his lip, reaching out a feather-light hand to gently still it. Her knee stopped bouncing.

Hyunjin whispered to her worriedly. "Y/n, are you sick?"

A slight shake of the head. Hyunjin looked around for someone who could help, but he couldn't see past the library shelves. He stood up slowly, bending down to whisper to her.

"I'm gonna go find someone, okay?" He told her determinedly. "They can help-"

"No," she whimpered, almost inaudibly.

Hyunjin's eyes widened. Sitting down again, he leant close to her. Her hand, much smaller than his, moved to grip his wrist. It didn't even go all the way round. Hyunjin blinked, taken aback, but Y/n's tiny, hiccupping voice directed his attention to her instantly.

"Don't leave me," she gasped, a tiny sob leaving her mouth. Her head was still down on the desk. "Hyunjin, don't go, please-"

Hyunjin's brow creased in worry and he couldn't hold himself back any longer. Placing a gentle arm around her, he shuffled closer and leaned his head on the table next to hers.

"It's okay," he said as comfortingly as he could. "I won't leave. Just try and breathe, okay?"

He suddenly became aware that telling her to breathe wasn't really helpful advice, but he didn't know what else to do. What were you supposed to do when things like this happened? Was he supposed to stay? What was he supposed to say to her?

Tears pricked at the corners of Hyunjin's eyes.

Help her, Hyunjin. Do something.

Not knowing what else to do, he quietly began telling her about his day. About how he had to do his homework while the teacher was collecting it because basketball practice ran late last night and he didn't have time. About how he had seen Jisung, his friend, inhale half his food the second the bell went so he could go talk to a girl he liked from his English class.

"They spent literally the whole first breaktime flirting," he told her quietly. "My friend Felix had to grab him by his collar because we all share a class. Jisung always makes us late."

Hyunjin fought a relieved smile as he saw Y/n turn her head just a little, indicating she was listening. Her breathing was evening out and Hyunjin kept talking in a low, reassuring voice until he was positive she had calmed down completely.

"We had practice again this morning, and championships are soon, so we got split up into teams. Coach also told me after practice that he liked my bandaids. See?"

Y/n turned her head a little more as he shuffled back in his chair, facing his legs towards her. He pointed to the lime green one on his right knee, with the 'I'M OKAY' wobbly black writing.

"That one's my favourite," he said softly, sincerely. He pointed to the pink and purple striped one. "And this one reminds me of you, because it's like your bag, all these cool, colourful pins and keyrings."

He tapped his cheek, where the white bandaid with the pink and black spider symbol was stuck. "This one's my favourite, so I put it on my cheek. The cut's actually healed now, but I like it. I feel all decorated."

Y/n lifted her head slightly, a tiny sniff coming from her. He still couldn't see her face, so he brought his arm up a little, giving her comfort. He knew people didn't like to be seen crying.

"Hey," he whispered to her sincerely. "Are you feeling a little bit better?"

She nodded, lifting her head. There were tear stains down her cheeks, and her nose and eyes were red. Hyunjin dug in his pocket and produced a tissue, handing it to her. He always carried them around, finding them useful at random times, but he'd been secretly keeping one in his pocket in case his new friend needed it.

He silently congratulated himself as Y/n took the tissue with a tiny nod of thanks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Hyunjin met her eyes with a soft, worried gaze. "Why would you be sorry?"

"I wasted your time and now you have to sit here with me while I be a drama queen and cry-"

Hyunjin cut her off determinedly. "No, Y/n... I saw you were uncomfortable, and I did it because of that, but also..." His cheeks flushed, feeling warm. "I wanted to spend time with you." He finished quietly, admitting.

Y/n's gaze flitted to him, confused. She sniffed. "Why?"

He smiled back, a little embarrassed, but intent on telling her his intentions.

"It's actually really nice here. Besides, sometimes I don't feel like hanging out with my friends Jisung and Felix, or playing basketball, or talking at all, to be honest. Especially when I'm tired. But I always did it anyway because I didn't have anywhere else to go during lunchtimes."

He poked her shoulder gently, smiling. "And now I do, and I've got a new friend to do it with as well. Or classmate, who likes talking to me... At least I hope you do."

Y/n looked anywhere but him, feeling that strange, warm feeling settle in her stomach again. For some unknown reason it only happened around the dark-haired basketballer.

Hyunjin let out a little cheer of joy just as a tiny, reluctant smile cracked Y/n's mask.

Felix turned to Hyunjin as they walked down the little path leading to the bus stop. Jisung was walking ahead, seemingly in a better mood than usual; for Felix and Hyunjin, that meant supervising him while he bounced off the walls and stole random leaves off the trees on the sidewalk.

Felix huffed and called out a warning to Jisung who had almost tripped up ahead, before turning to Hyunjin.

"You catching the bus with us today?"

Hyunjin shook his head. "I found out that me and Y/n pretty much live really close, and we both go down the same street, so I asked her to walk with me like I did yesterday."

Felix grinned. "Seems like she's coming around."

"I hope so," he said quietly. "Sorry about leaving you with Jisung. I think he had one of those sugary energy drinks earlier between classes."

Felix rolled his eyes. "I'll be lucky if I get him onto the bus without him tripping and starting a fire of some sort."

Hyunjin laughed and squeezed his friend's arm just as the bus rolled up. He waited until Felix and Jisung had both entered and sat down, then he began turning and walking back the way he'd came. He'd asked Y/n to come with him while he walked his friends to the bus stop, but she had shyly declined, shaking her head before he had even finished his question. She seemed avoidant of being around large groups of people, Hyunjin observed.

She'd settled to wait at the school gates while he had walked the short distance to the bus stop. Looking up, she noticed Hyunjin approaching with a smile.

"Hey," he greeted. "Thanks for waiting for me."

Y/n nodded and they began to walk in silence. Hyunjin kept up a constant stream of cheerful chatter as they walked, skipping over stones. They passed the spot where Hyunjin had fallen and scraped his knees, and Y/n took his arm cautiously, eliciting a small, affectionate smile from the boy.

Reaching the willow tree, Hyunjin rounded the corner, gesturing for Y/n to follow him with a smile. She tilted her head in confusion.

"Let's go for a while longer, down to the shops," he told her. He hurriedly corrected himself at her expression. "Y-you don't have to. If you want to, though...? It doesn't have to be for long-"

Y/n nodded solemnly. "Okay."

Hyunjin let out a breath of relief as they continued walking. It felt new and different walking past the usual route to his house. He glanced sideways at Y/n, who was busy looking up at the sky. He let one of his hands fall from his pocket and dangle at his side so he could catch her just in case she fell. Looking down at the pavement as they walked towards the shops, he let his other hand fall from his pocket too, mistrusting his own steps, though he was being as careful as he could.

He had enough bandaids on his body already.

Y/n's phone buzzed. Setting her sketchbook down, and slightly jarred at the interruption, she crawled across the bed and picked it up from the bedside. Turning the screen on, and hissing at the brightness, she slammed it down on the pillow.

Staying up late at night was one of Y/n's favourite things to do. It was the reason her eyes were always dark and strained, but the night brought a peace and serenity the daylight could never give her. She'd been sketching in her pad by the light of a little pocket torch when her phone had gone off.

Sighing and turning the torch off, she squeezed her eyes shut tight, adjusting them, before picking up her phone once more. Swiping into her home screen, she noticed several message notifications. Her heart jolted unpleasantly.

It was none other than Yeji. The last message had been sent a minute ago.

yeji 🌷: you up?

Y/n gulped before texting back.

y/n ⛓️: yeah y/n ⛓️: what's wrong? it's late yeji 🌷: i was just wondering something... i couldn't sleep so i thought i'd ask you anyway. sorry if i woke you y/n ⛓️: no, it's okay. what is it? yeji 🌷: today, when we were talking... you and hyunjin yeji 🌷: are you dating him?

Y/n buried her face in her pillow, letting out a muffled groan. She knew this was bound to happen. Not that she didn't appreciate Hyunjin's help for getting her out of the situation. She had no clue why she had become so upset when she'd run into Yeji. Maybe it was the fact that Yeji was smart, pretty, funny, loved by most of the girls in their grade. She was just so normal.

Y/n was well aware that she had no reason to really hate Yeji. After all, they were friends.

Then why did Yeji irritate her so much?

y/n ⛓️: what makes you say that? yeji 🌷: you guys have been hanging out a lot lately... yeji 🌷: i didn't think he would be into someone like you

Y/n frowned, turning the screen off suddenly. What did she mean, 'someone like her'? Someone as quiet or lonely as she was? Someone who was the outcast of the school?

She turned the screen back on, flicking into the messages.

y/n ⛓️: we're not dating yeji 🌷: then why does he keep talking to you? y/n ⛓️: because he's my friend, and he's in most of my classes too. why? yeji 🌷: just wondering, haha

Huffing, Y/n glared at Yeji's reply message. Just wondering, totally. Anticipating an argument building, Y/n exhaled before typing out a final message.

y/n ⛓️: my phone's about to die. sorry.

Then she turned it off.

Hyunjin absentmindedly tossed his basketball between his hands, watching as the sunlight cast patterns across the vibrant orange material. It was pretty early, with some students milling through the halls, but mostly the corridors were empty. Basketball practice had finished pretty early that morning. His knees were healing well, and he was feeling ready and prepared for the upcoming championship matches.

Jisung and Felix had stayed behind to run some training drills. Hyunjin knew that 'training drills' meant messing around and trying to hang from the hoops by their arms while their coach wasn't there. He appreciated the opportunity to quietly walk by himself nonetheless, smiling as he thought of the way Jisung would excitedly tell him about the morning's antics in form class.

Turning a corner, he ran directly into someone, dropping the basketball in surprise.

"Yeji," he said, blinking. "Sorry, I didn't see you."

She grinned at him, teasing. "Am I that short, Mr. Hwang?"

Hyunjin chuckled. Him and Yeji were somewhat close, having been in the same inner circle of their old friend group before it had eventually split. Hyunjin went with the boys on his basketball team and Yeji stuck with the other girls, some of which he'd seen with Y/n. Or around her, to be more specific. They usually ignored her, chatting excitedly, while she was left in the dust. Maybe they thought that there was no need to talk to her unless she talked first. The thought made his fingers tighten around the basketball as he moved to pick it up.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Yeji."

She smiled back, clearly pleased to have ran into him. "Yeah. How's basketball?"

"Good." They began walking down the hallways in silence. Yeji was seemingly expectant, and Hyunjin wondered if there was a group event or hangout he'd missed that she was about to pester him about. Maybe she was just waiting for his reply.

"So," Yeji began, eyes glinting as she looked up at Hyunjin. "You and Y/n, huh?"

There it is. Hyunjin fought the urge to roll his eyes as he replied.

"No, we're friends."

"That's what everyone says. Why else would you befriend her?"

Hyunjin stopped in his tracks, basketball slipping a little under his arm. He frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

Yeji flicked a long strand of orange hair behind her shoulder, looking up at him innocently. "I mean," she said breezily, "she's kind of an outcast."

Hyunjin fought the urge to snap at her, or throw his basketball in her face, or tug her hair out. Or all three, preferably. But he kept his cool with some effort, masking his anger with the fake guise of coughing suddenly. His breath suddenly caught in his throat and he actually started coughing.

Yeji placed a manicured hand on his back in concern, leaning closer to him.

"You okay?" she said gently, in concern that Hyunjin had a feeling was entirely fake and most likely an excuse to get closer to him.

"Yeah," he said wheezily, knocking a fist against his chest. "All good."

Yeji tilted her head and they kept walking. Hyunjin wanted nothing more than to slap her in the face, but something in his gut told him to play along and see what Yeji said.

"So, about Y/n," he started hesitantly. "What do you mean, 'why else would i befriend her'?"

Yeji sighed. "Hyunjin, literally no one likes her. I'm only friends with her because she hangs around me like a fly. I was just wondering why you were friends with her."

Hyunjin's mouth pressed into a thin line. Yeji had always been pretty upfront and honest with him. But it was still jarring listening to her admit that three years of friendship with Y/n had been a lie. That she was just a pity friend. Hyunjin was disgusted.

But he couldn't tell Yeji that. Otherwise she would tell everyone and perhaps make up a few lies along the way. He'd seen her do it to another guy from the soccer team and it hadn't ended well. He'd left the school.

"It's just that I need help to pass English this semester," he said to her as honestly as he could. It was surprisingly convincing, considering it was a complete lie. "She's pretty smart."

Yeji blinked up at him through long lashes. "Is that why you keep going to the library with her? So she can tutor you?"

Hyunjin nodded.

Yeji continued, a hint of suspicion in her voice. "Y/n's pretty socially dumb, but not that much. What did you offer her in return for the tutoring? I doubt she would've done it for free."

Hyunjin blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "A date with me."

Yeji let out a short, high-pitched laugh. "No waaayyy, Hyunjin. That's so sneaky of you. I bet she didn't suspect a thing."

Hyunjin let out a short, forced laugh. "Yeah. I just really need to pass English, otherwise I might get kicked off the basketball team..."

They reached the end of the hallway. Yeji stopped and turned to him, tilting her head and smiling. "You don't have to rely on that loser to tutor you. I'm doing pretty well in English right now. I'll tutor you instead."

Panic seized Hyunjin's gut. "Oh, uhm- I'd hate to trouble you. Wouldn't wanna take up any of your time."

Yeji shook her head eagerly. "No, it's fine," she pulled out her phone and waved it in Hyunjin's face. "Text me a time and then you can come over to mine tonight, okay? It'll be fun."

Hyunjin had no choice but to nod. "Um, sure. I guess."

Yeji giggled, touching his arm. "And remember, this conversation stays between us. Don't tell your little friend Y/n, okay?"

Hyunjin nodded, forcing a smile onto his face.

"Sure, Yeji."

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snake - yang jeongin

pairing: yang jeongin x reader

summary: you come home to jeongin after a long, exhausting day

genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort, soft innie, reader had a tough day, the snakes are just a metaphor i promise

a/n: this is super rushed. divider by @atsubie

You trudge down the pavement, brushing past pedestrians and groups of chattering students. A man with his phone to his ear shoves roughly past you and you sway where you're standing, a feeling of hopelessness settling into your stomach like a dark, writhing snake.

These past few weeks have been horrible.

First, one of your close friends at work told you that some of the other coworkers have been spreading nasty rumours about you. You spilled your drink this morning on the way to the building and had to run back and change quickly.

Then when you did show up, your boss shouted at you for being tardy in front of your entire division. You elected to work a couple more hours as compensation, and Jeongin is actually at home for once instead of at the company, so you missed out on an evening with him.

You had texted him earlier in the day, saying that you couldn't come home, and he'd called you. He hadn't minded, his tone casual and slightly teasing as per normal, but you knew him well enough to know he was disappointed at not getting to finally spend some time together.

The coiling snake of guilt, shame, and exhaustion in your stomach has been writhing all week long, and honestly, you're just fed up. Pressing a hand to your midriff, you sigh and pick up the pace, weaving between people, muttering sorry and my bad without so much as a second glance.

You shove the door open and run directly into Jeongin with an oof. His hoodie pillows your face in a refreshing wave of fading cologne and fresh linen. You groan and stand there, sagging into him, the door still flung open in the wake of your frustration.

Jeongin blinks down at you, seemingly unsurprised. He wraps his long, firm arms around you, letting you lean against his chest. It's so warm and so comforting it brings tears to your eyes.

"Hi," he murmurs. "Long day?"

You nod mutely, face still shoved into his hoodie.

Jeongin chuckles, picking you up with little effort and carrying you over to the couch. There's a movie playing. He must have been watching it while waiting for you to come home, and your heart twinges guiltily for having made him wait.

"Innie," you whisper tiredly. "It's so late, why aren't you asleep?"

He's kneeling in front of you, gently undoing the buttons of your shirt so you can breathe, then slipping off your socks and shoes. The look of caring focus on his face doesn't go unnoticed in your current overemotional state. When he finally speaks, Jeongin's voice is soft, gentle, firm.

"You know I can't sleep without you, and I didn't want you coming home to silence."

You nod, unable to do anything.

"Besides," he continues, "You always wait up for me, even when I spend hours and hours at the company for dance practices."

He moves to sit beside you, tugging you gently into a side hug, the solidness of his chest against your chest a comforting anchor. You sit like that for a while, the movie muted and faint in the background.

Jeongin's presence is so warm, so comforting, that all you can do is close tired, strained eyes and lean into him further, inhaling his scent, relishing the solid weight of his arm around you. The burden finally lifts and the sharp, dull tension behind your eyes begins to dissolve, leaving you feel more relaxed and cosy than you've felt in a long time.

The coiling snake in your gut settles and disappears.

a/n: no snakes were harmed in the making of this fic