#skz comfort
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astralis-ortus · 2 months ago
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when it's less-than-ideal
✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader
— you can't judge a relationship only based on its good days.
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w.count → 0.9k genre → comfort, a dash of comedy at the end warning → chan referred to as chris, babe, my love; reader referred to as baby and babe; kind of sad but it ends well♡ a.n → basically i'm projecting what kind of relationship-slash-communication style i want in a relationship, so... yeah. think i'll be on my own for quite a while, lol. anyways! i also have an announcement here about requests, commissions, and fanart shop, do check it out♡ ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist
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chris has been acting weird lately, and you don't know why.
you're usually not one to mind—given the way his schedules these days barely even spare the time for him to rest, you understand that your boyfriend is bound to be less like his usual self. you've sat down with chris to talk about it early in your relationship—the expectations, the ideal and less-than-ideal situations, the how-tos, and 4 years in, everything has all worked out just fine.
lately, however,
chris has been acting really strange.
"babe, i'm home," chris' voice softly echoed through the apartment, followed by the rustling of what you could assume is the layer of jacket and hoodie you got him to wear to battle the dropping temperatures of november seoul. "where are you?"
"kitchen!" you chirped, swiftly rinsing off the pots and pans you've been battling against for the past 10 minutes, "i'm still washing the dishes. are you hungry? i made some curry for dinner, it's in the—babe? are you okay?"
the cheeriness in your voice immediately turned into worry when you felt chris' arms around your waist, holding you tight as he allows himself to melt onto you, face buried in the crook of your neck.
after all the years of being at the receiving end of chris' special mix of physical affection, you've naturally learned to differentiate the meaning in your boyfriend's touches—is he just being affectionate? or is he trying to tease you? is he jealous of the interaction you had? or did he sense something and is trying to keep you safe? you have always been able to read chris just from the way his skin grazes upon yours, and so far you've barely ever been wrong,
but god, you sincerely hope you're hitting far from the mark this time.
"hey," you softly called out upon the absence of chris' response, quickly disregarding the dishes to rinse your soapy hands before turning to face chris' tired features, "is everything alright, my love?"
instead of an answer, chris simply leaned onto your touch as soon as your hands came to cradle his cheeks—ones freezing from the cold weather he just escaped moments ago, and only then, you realized just how long it has been since you've properly seen your boyfriend.
how come you haven't noticed the dark, looming shadow in his eyes? or the way his skin had lost its usual glow and instead grew dry with the season? how come you didn't see the way the corner of his lips had grown heavier, or the way his curls you oh-so adored had adopted its long forgotten frizz?
how come it took you so long to properly see chris?
"i'm sorry, baby," running the pads of your thumbs across chris' cheeks, you forced yourself to swallow the lump of guilt lodged in your throat, "i just realized i've been too inattentive to you, and i'm sorry. have you been wanting to talk it out with me?"
and only then, you saw the faint glimmer you fell in love with, peeking between the grey clouds in chris' eyes.
"yeah," despite the hoarseness in his voice, you could hear the warmth returning in the words chris uttered as he nodded, "but i just… i didn't know how to bring it up since i knew you've been dealing with your own stuff as well."
chris quietly exhaled, soft breath grazing your lips when he leaned his forehead onto yours and let his eyes fluttered close, allowing his walls of self-protection to finally crumble as he speaks, "i'm sorry, baby. it was never my intention to let this fester for this long or to make you feel bad in any way. i just didn't know how. i promise."
you know you're not perfect, and neither is chris—but you also know chris has always made it his life mission to make sure you're the happiest you've ever been when you're with him. one honest mistake will never erase the efforts and sacrifice chris has ever made for you, and you'll never let that happen.
"i know, baby," you hummed, lightly dragging the tips of your nails against his scalp when your fingers found the dark locks of his hair, "i don't blame you. i shouldn't have assumed about your condition and let it slip too. i won't let it happen again, i promise."
and you can feel the way chris' shoulder relax at the words you utter,
because just like him, he knows you'll do everything in your power to keep every single one of your promises.
"thank you, baby," chris pulled you into his embrace, completely engulfing you in his warmth while he pressed his lips on your forehead. "i promise i'll try to be better at this too, and thank you for being patient with me. i love you."
it didn't matter how many times have you heard chris whisper those three words in your ears, or how many times have he held you like you're everything that ever mattered to him,
chris will always make your soul feel the most alive it has ever been.
"i love you too, baby," you finally allowed yourself to smile as your arms found their way around your boyfriend's waist, holding him close as you listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat—
"…babe?"
"…yeah," chris sheepishly nodded while rubbing his stomach, "i haven't had lunch too, actually…"
a protest involuntarily slip past your lips along with the forming lines of frown between your eyebrows, perfectly portraying your disapproval of chris' course of action.
"go sit down, i'll fix your plate for you," shaking your head, you turned towards the pot of warm curry on the stovetop in faux disappointment before you continued,
"and we'll talk about whatever's been stressing my christopher out, okay?"
oh, you can definitely confirm,
the sound of chris' soft chuckle will never fail to bring a smile to your face.
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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strayingawayy · 12 days ago
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midnight melodies
...where a droopy eyed jisung lulls his crying baby girl to sleep
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it was 3 am, and han jisung was starting to lose his grip on reality. in his arms, their newborn daughter was wailing at the top of her tiny lungs, and he, half-asleep, was desperate for anything to calm her down.
“okay... okay,” he muttered, bouncing her gently. “you’re just... hungry, right? yeah, that’s it.”
she screamed louder in protest.
“alright, alright,” he said, rocking back and forth. “no food. no bottle. what do you want, sweet girl?”
she stared up at him, her tiny fists clenched, as if mocking him.
jisung took a deep breath, glancing around the nursery like it held all the answers. he spotted her han quokka plushie on the shelf and grabbed it. “okay, quokka, let’s try you.”
he held it up to her, but she screamed even louder.
"aish. so you're rejecting daddy and daddy in animal form too huh?," he said with a tired laugh. "huh ...maybe something... softer."
his mind was a blur. but then, it hit him. a song. he could sing her to sleep. he was han jisung, after all. how hard could it be?
taking a deep breath, he started softly, his voice still a little hoarse from lack of sleep.
“you are my sunshine, my only sunshine…” he sang, his tone gentle and shaky and accent prominent but soft.
the baby hiccupped mid-cry and paused for a brief moment, staring up at him with wide eyes.
“you make me happy when skies are grey,” he continued, growing more confident.
her cries had slowed down, and her tiny hand reached up as if to feel the vibrations of his voice.
“you’ll never know dear, how much i love you...” jisung crooned, his voice growing softer as his exhaustion began to catch up to him.
the baby’s eyes fluttered, her little face calming.
jisung grinned, his sleepiness fading as he realized his voice was finally working. "see? told you i was a pro," he whispered to her, though he could barely keep his eyes open.
just then, you walked in, rubbing your eyes and stifling a yawn. "you’re still at it?" you asked, glancing at your daughter, who was now dozing peacefully in jisung’s arms.
jisung, eyes half-closed, smiled triumphantly. “i’m basically a lullaby legend.”
you raised an eyebrow. “uh-huh. you sure it wasn’t just that song?”
jisung blinked, the reality of the situation sinking in. “i mean... yeah. probably.”
you chuckled softly and, feeling the need for a quick snack, went to the kitchen. but when you returned a few minutes later, the sight you saw made you pause in the doorway.
there was jisung, curled up in the crib with their baby girl, both fast asleep. he’d somehow managed to fit himself in the small space, one arm around her, his head resting gently on the edge of the crib. his breathing was slow and peaceful, a contented smile on his face. the baby, snug in his arms, had the faintest of smiles on her face as well.
you stepped closer, careful not to wake them, and stood there for a moment, completely taken by the warmth of the scene. the man you loved, the one who had been so anxious earlier, was now completely at ease, his little girl in his arms as if they’d been doing this forever.
you couldn’t help but smile. "well, i guess you are her sunshine too, sweetheart," you whispered to yourself, a soft laugh escaping your lips.
you carefully adjusted the blanket over them and kissed both jisung and your daughter’s foreheads, your heart full of love. then, you whispered, "sleep tight, you two."
and as you left the room, the soft glow of the night and the gentle hum of peace filled the air, your little family finally at rest.
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0omillo0 · 1 month ago
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Minho x Reader
Calling you clingy
angst/comfort
inspo from @ seungfl0wer!! I love their works!
You had always been the talkative, affectionate type. From the moment you met Minho, your bubbly personality had been a constant in his life, a stream of warmth and light he found himself drawn to. You loved sharing every little detail of your day with him—the funny things your coworkers said, the way the sun hit the park on your way home, or the recipe you wanted to try for dinner.
Minho had always been receptive, listening intently, laughing at your stories, and teasing you when you got overly dramatic. It became a routine, a rhythm you both cherished.
But recently, things had shifted.
Minho had been stressed, you knew that. Between his busy schedule, endless rehearsals, and looming deadlines, the pressure on him was immense. At first, you tried to give him space, being a little quieter when he came home, offering to massage his shoulders or make him his favorite tea. But when he seemed indifferent to your efforts, you couldn’t help but feel… replaced.
One evening, as you were rambling about a funny interaction at the grocery store, you noticed Minho wasn’t responding. He was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, his face blank.
You waited for his usual chuckle or comment. But there was nothing.
“Minho?” you tried again.
“What?!” he replied curtly, not looking up.
You blinked, caught off guard. “I was just saying—”
“Omg can you stop?” he interrupted sharply, finally looking at you, his brows furrowed. “I don’t need to hear every little thing that happens to you, Y/N. I’m tired. Just… give me some peace, okay? You’re so damn clingy.”
The words hit you like a slap. You stared at him, your throat tightening as the weight of his tone settled over you.
“…Oh- Okay.” you whispered, turning away before he could see the tears brimming in your eyes.
“Y/N, wait—” he started, but you were already walking out of the room.
The next few days were a blur.
You didn’t stop caring for him—that wasn’t who you were. Every morning, you dragged yourself out of bed earlier than usual, even though you despised waking up before Minho. You made him breakfast, carefully plating it on the table before leaving for work. You barely ate yourself, your appetite gone, but you didn’t want him to feel neglected.
When you got home in the evenings, you prepared dinner in silence, eating alone and leaving his portion on the table. By the time he came home, you were already in bed, curled up on your side and staring at the wall.
Minho tried to break the silence.
“Y/N,” he said softly one night as you lay beside him. “Can we talk?”
But you didn’t respond. You stayed still, pretending to be asleep, your heart aching at the tremor in his voice.
By the fourth day, Minho felt like he was losing his mind.
He missed your voice, your laughter, your stories. The quiet house felt oppressive, and the sight of you avoiding his gaze cut deeper than any harsh word ever could. He had tried apologizing in small ways—offering to help with chores, brushing your shoulder as he passed—but nothing worked.
That night, as you lay next to him, your back to him as usual, he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Y/N…” His voice was barely a whisper, but you heard the crack in it.
You didn’t move.
“Please,” he said, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch your hip. “Please look at me.”
Still, you stayed still, your breathing steady but your heart racing.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I swear, I didn’t mean it.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, but you bit your lip, unwilling to give in so easily.
“I love the way you talk to me,” Minho continued, his voice shaking. “I love your stories. They… they make me feel like I’m part of your world, like I’m home. And I ruined that. I ruined us. I don’t know why I said those things. I was tired, I was stressed, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry, Y/N. Please… forgive me.”
You felt a tear land on your shoulder, and your resolve crumbled. Slowly, you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his for the first time in days.
His face was a mess of guilt and desperation, his eyes red and glistening.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you whispered, your voice breaking.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I’m not good with words. I just… I lashed out, and I hate myself for it. I love you, Y/N. I love everything about you. Please don’t shut me out.”
Your tears spilled over, and before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him close.
“Minho,” you sobbed into his shoulder. “You hurt me.”
“I know,” he murmured, his hands trembling as they wrapped around your waist. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never do it again. I’ll never take you for granted again.”
For a moment, the only sound was your quiet crying and his whispered apologies. Then, he pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears.
“I love you,” he said again, his voice steady this time.
And then his lips found yours.
The kiss was slow at first, hesitant, as though he was afraid you might pull away. But as you responded, it deepened, filled with a mixture of passion, regret, and unspoken promises.
When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.
“I missed you,” you whispered.
“I missed you too,” he replied, his voice soft but resolute.
That night, Minho held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, and for the first time in days, the silence between you was replaced by the warmth of reconciliation.
@intartaruginha @hannamoon143
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sunboki · 24 days ago
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⎯ the adults are busy. ⟡ featuring lee minho
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in which the mornings with Minho can be silly and suggestive all in one. primarily silly.
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“Oh no, this isn’t good..”
Those words specifically fall from your lips in a muffled manner. Your eyes flicker up to the man you currently lie atop of, and it’s stupendously hard trying not to crack a smile.
It’s so easy to adore Minho, with the happy, barely perceptible crinkle at the corner of his eyes a telltale sign a smile hides beneath the covers.
A morning where neither wanted to rouse, too groggy from both the.. rendezvous of last night and your laziness in general.
A dangerous duo, truly.
So now, with your teeth occasionally nipping at his bottom lip, you exhibit an adamancy only found in the man before you—habits of his you’d picked up throughout the years together.
An adamancy occurring after you’d made a bet you’d never stop kissing him.
Literally.
“Mmph- you’re-“
The words are caught when he tips his head, lips puckering in a nearly comical way you’d have laughed at if it weren’t for the nonstop, sugary sweet pecks he presses to your own lips.
Silly. It’s all so silly.
And you cherish every second.
“Let me kiss you more—“ He whines like a child, the needy side of him peeking through hard to resist. In which results in you mirroring his puckered mouth while he kisses and kisses and kisses till your head is dizzied.
Ah.
Like a sixth sense, Minho’s head whips to your right where, without you even slightly noticing, Soonie stares where he’d hopped onto the mattress, evidently unimpressed.
“The adults are busy,” He mutters, pointing an accusing finger at the kitty, earning a simple flick of the tail and Minho’s narrowed eyes in response.
“Busy?” You begin sarcastically, becoming the new subject of Minho’s feigned glare.
“Mm.”
Another thing you don’t notice? His leg linking with yours until you’re physically flipped over in response to his rolling to the right, eliciting a shriek of surprise.
And in an instant do you come to notice the rather compromising position, with his chest pressing to your back, lithe, veined hands gently lifting your shirt, nosing at your neck.
“We will be, hm?”
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
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finnbbl · 5 months ago
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Bang Chan finds out you fainted
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SKZ Fake Texts
Prompt: You faint while he’s away, and finds out before you tell him
Genre: Angst/Comfort
Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: Mentions of not eating, passing out, swearing
Requests: OPEN
Masterlist
A/N: I was originally going to make a hyung line and maknae line post but I didn’t realize how long I made chan’s😭 so he gets his own. others will be released soon :)
Please read disclaimer in masterlist
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hyuuukais · 2 months ago
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⚝⭒๋࣭ ⭑ SKZ TEXTS ⭑ chan edition
─── chan x gn reader
─── pain comfort for the changing temperatures </3
─── warnings: reader called pet names (baby, babe), reader being in pain
─── masterlist
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notes - just a short thing <33 idk about yall but my joints have been achinggg
taglist - @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @quokkabite
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lixie-phoria · 1 year ago
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ੈ✩‧ ➛ lee know thinks he's subtle as he pines over you
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pairing : lee know x gn reader ; genre : fluff | warnings : none ; word count : 0.7k words
summary : a good way to confess to someone? tell them about it! but does lee know ever do anything conventionally? of course not. so here he was, trying to see you anytime he gets, and what better excuse than saying his cats miss you? you would never find he was the one missing you, right?
chan's ver. | hyunjin's ver. | jeongin's version | felix's ver. | changbin's version | han's ver.
"hey, the cats miss you. you mind if i bring them over?"
lee know's tone is soft as he speaks over the phone with you, but his cold warning gaze settled upon hyunjin and changbin, who were trying their best to hold in their laughter, told a different story.
it does help, however, when he hears you eagerly agree and immediately relaxes, promising to be there soon. but of course he should've been more careful about where he was making the call because he certainly would not have picked a place where any of the other 7 could hear him. they would never let him rest in peace.
"so."
changbin valued his life slightly lesser than hyunjin did, so the first remark came from him.
"the cats miss y/n that much, huh?" hyunjin picked up from where changbin left.
"both of you, drop it."
"no no, do you plan on telling y/n that the cats have been asleep for the past two hours?"
lee know wished there was a box of tissues somewhere close by so he could shove it right down the younger members throats because he could not stand being teased over his crush on you anymore.
"the cats do miss y/n. that's why they were so irritable when they went to sleep."
"so that had nothing to do with you forgetting to give them water because you'd been talking to y/n for an hour?"
lee know was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it. he could deny all he wanted, but even he was aware that he really wasn't subtle about the not-so-small crush he harbored for you. his members knew about it, your members knew about it. heck, even his manager could see his feelings. it was that obvious. lee know could only hope you hadn't caught on because he'd be damned if you realized his way of spending time with you was making excuses that his cats wanted to see you.
lee know, the supposedly cool and nonchalant lee know his fans are so used to seeing on camera, was reduced to a nervous blushing mess whenever you were involved. how on earth was he supposed to confess to you when he could barely ask you to hang out with him?
"wear that green hoodie y/n really likes when you go." hyunjin adds, way too invested in whatever was unfolding.
"why does that matter?"
"because it gives them an excuse to compliment you, obviously."
the older boy huffed, hoping the other two could not see the red creeping up the tips of his years.
"and make sure to not mention that the cats were too busy sleeping to miss them."
"yah! i'm not stupid, i know."
"maybe mention that you were the one missing them."
changbin and hyunjin cackled as lee know's eye twitched in annoyance. they really were testing his patience today.
"just because the air fryer isn't in this room doesn't mean you're both safe."
this line was usually effective under normal circumstances. but not today.
"hyung, do you really thing you can threaten us? when you're the one in the vulnerable position?"
"i am not."
"oh so i can text y/n about all the times you've lied just to meet them?"
"he has an entire list, by the way," changbin manages in between his laughter.
"you're both jobless."
"says the one who's about to make a 30 minutes drive just so he can see his crush."
the two dissolved into another fit of laughter as the older member stormed out of the room and to where his three cats were resting in a peaceful slumber.
he felt guilty shaking them awake, but it would be worth it, right? he would get to meet you and you hopefully wouldn't even realize that they were just an excuse for him to see you, to hear your voice, to make you smile, to stare into your eyes just a little bit longer. hopefully you wouldn't catch on despite him using this very same excuse for what seemed like the thousandth time.
minho couldn't believe himself as he reluctantly put on the green hoodie hyunjin had advised him to wear.
he really wished the two would not see him in it. he would never make it out of the dorms if they found out he had listened to them. it was a pain, really, but for you lee know would do anything.
©lixie-phoria, 2023
tags : @lethallyprotected @dreamingaboutjisung @selcayuri @bangchansbae @aak2 @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba (send an ask to be added/removed!)
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lieslab · 21 days ago
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Call your mom
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꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
Pairing: Felix X gn reader
Summary: Your best friend finds you teetering on the edge of suicide in the middle of the night.
Genre: Comfort/hurt
Word Count: 2.2K
Suicide and depression resources
Trigger warning: Suicide, depression, self-hatred, brief mentions of pills, guns, self-harm, hanging, fear of life after death, and fear of being alone.
A/N: It's the first day of 2025 and if you're struggling with thoughts like these, please stay alive. I had a weird urge to drop this which means, at least, one of you is struggling right now. Please pick up the phone and call someone. Stay alive. I know it seems so hard when you're drowning, but you really have no idea what good things are waiting for you. They will find you, I promise <3
_ _ _
At midnight, Felix’s eyes shot wide open without a reason or why. He had just been asleep and yet, as he laid with his cheek pressed against the warmth of his pillow, there wasn’t the usual sleepy haze. It was almost as if he just opened his eyes and hadn’t been sleeping for the past few hours. 
He laid there trying to figure out the reason for it, but none came. The steady sound of his breathing filled the room and he glanced over. The full moon was out tonight and she was watching over everyone, at least, that’s what he thought. 
He didn’t know why your face appeared in his head. Somewhere deep in the subconscious realm and far from his understanding, something tugged on him. It ushered him to go and it forced him out of bed. In the darkness, almost like a shadow savior, he slipped on his slippers and rushed out of his room. 
It was the one thing he actually liked about your shared apartment building. Your apartment was just down the hall. All he had to do was leave his unit, turn left, walk straight, and turn left again. The path was so familiar that he could do it in his sleep. 
He tugged the wooden door shut behind him and didn’t bother locking it. He jerked on the oversized hoodie and rounded the corner, that’s when he saw you. The look on your face, it was one he’d never seen before. 
The length of the hallway was barren at this time of night. Lights were secured above your head and dimmed down for the evening. The dimness couldn’t hide the tears pouring down your cheeks. 
You couldn’t breathe with your thoughts piling up again. You’d been here before, but this time was different. This time, you were sure if you stepped foot in your apartment building, you wouldn’t come back out alive. 
So you paced over and over and over again. Stuck between the urge in giving it all up and trying to find the strength to continue. Living was hard and it was even worse when your own brain hated you. 
How much longer could you last? Too stuck in your head, you stamped yourself as a burden. You cut holes in your own heart and let yourself drown in your own hurt. Blood stained your hands and it was always all your fault. 
A lump sat in your throat and the tears wouldn’t stop dripping. You wanted to keep going. You wanted to try again. You wanted to bite down on that small sliver of hope and cling to it, but you were also tired. This self-destructive cycle led to nowhere. You were tearing your mental sanity to shreds and your muscles were quivering from trying to keep your head held up one more day. 
Just one more day. Just one more try. Just a little more. Another step. Another meal. Another memory creeping back from the depths of your mind and rerunning. Your brain was on fire and screaming. 
Torn between letting go and staying here, you were breaking down. The oil in your machine ran out months ago. Every step weighed a thousand pounds. Your bones creaked and your soul ached. You longed for inner peace, but it never showed up. 
Your dreams were dead. Your brain stamped them out weeks ago. You deemed yourself the family failure. The unlovable one. The kind of person that people steered themselves clear from because you were just too much. 
The weight of your thoughts was breaking your back. Your brain screamed at you to stay, but you couldn’t find peace in sleep anymore. Where people found joy in the rainbows and sunshine, you couldn’t find that anymore either. You ran out of love to give a long time ago. 
Wouldn’t it just be better to give up? To finally rest. To go to sleep. Swallow pills. Pull a trigger. Slice the vein. Step off the stool and let your windpipe close forever. The hurt was temporary and god, it’d hurt, but the peace afterwards… 
You didn’t know what came after this. Maybe it really was heaven or hell. Maybe the rumors were true and you’d burn for eternity for killing yourself. Maybe you’d wake up in another life and in the arms of a new mother. Shiny eyes of another father would be cast upon you. 
Or maybe it’d just be nothing. An eternal darkness and no matter what happened or where you went, it’d just be black. You’d cease to exist. You’d have all this and then nothing ever again. 
You didn’t hear Felix the first time that he called your name, but you felt him. You smelled the familiar scent of minty toothpaste and eucalyptus. Your teary eyes reached up to find his and his heart shattered. 
He cupped your cheeks and his heart squeezed with terror. “What’s wrong?” He whispered as he wiped away your tears. 
You tried to speak, but your words turned into a whimper that got stuck in the back of your throat. How were you supposed to tell your best friend that you wanted to end everything? How were you supposed to tell them that you were so tired, you wanted to go? It was time for you to go. 
Maybe it was selfish to not think about the hurt you’d cause him, or maybe it was selfish for him not to see the hurt that harbored in your heart. Would he ask you to stay if he knew you were drowning inside yourself? The darkness swallowed you whole and no matter how much you tried to swim to the surface, you never made it. 
Did he know this was the last time he’d see your defeated face? Would he remember the bags smeared beneath your eyes? Would he know that your eyes would close soon and they’d never reopen? The next time he’d see you, if he was lucky, you’d be clutching your own cold corpse in the cramped casket. 
His freckles were like constellations and if you were lucky, maybe you’d land upon the stars. Maybe the weight of everything would cease to exist and the lack of gravity, from wherever you landed, would make you float. The warmth of those brown eyes was home. Wherever you ended up, you wanted to feel that similar warmth. 
“Talk to me,” he pleaded softly. “What’s wrong?” 
Your bottom lip quivered. Why did he have to find you at this time? You tried to keep him out of the convoluted mess of your head and heart and yet, here he was. He stood in front of you like the savior you’d been praying for, but now it was too late. 
The flip in your head was made. It was time for you to go. This world wasn’t meant for someone like you. You opted to roll the dice, spin the wheel, and pull the slots. You’d take your chances in the next life. 
“Nothing,” you hoarsely uttered. “I’m just having one of those nights, you know?” 
You were way too calm about this. He watched how frantic you were when he first rounded the corner. Your eyes looked around desperately, like you were searching for something that wasn’t there. 
“Why are you lying to me?” 
His voice was a sweet honey and you desperately wanted to free fall. You wanted to melt into the floor and never exist again. You couldn’t stay near Felix for too long. He’d give you another reason to stay. 
“I-I should go to bed. You’re in your pajamas, you should go get some sleep.” 
His head shook and his messy blonde hair shook with his head. “No way. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me exactly what’s going on with you.” 
Your mouth opened, but words didn’t come out. How were you to truly explain this weight in your heart? How could you bare the shell of this body? If you admitted it all, would he call you selfish? Would he break off this friendship and leave you alone forever? 
“Felix,” you weakly got out. Fresh tears blurred your vision. You reached out to his stomach and gripped the front of his hoodie. 
“What is it?” 
“I-” 
“You can tell me and I promise, I won’t judge you.” 
You didn’t deserve his goodness or his grace. You didn’t deserve this warmth and this sunshine. This savior should have stayed in bed and let your plans unravel, but here he was. You’d been praying for a miracle, for some reason to stay, and here it was, but it made your heart hurt. You were just so tired. 
“I want to kill myself.” 
His eyes locked onto yours and for a brief moment, silence buzzed between the two of you. You held your breath waiting for a response and he couldn’t breathe. You didn’t have time to react as he jerked you into his arms. 
He pressed your head against his shoulder and you gasped. His arms squeezed around you and created a cage of love. “You’re not leaving my sight.” 
“Felix,” you whispered. 
“You don’t have to speak right now. We’ll go back to my apartment and I think I have your mom’s phone number. I’ll call your mom and I-” 
“You can’t!” You jerked away in a panic. Your eyes were wide as you stared at him. “I don’t want to make this a big deal. She’s sleeping right now and-” 
“I have to.” 
Your head jerked and you tried to shove him away. He caught your hand and squeezed it tight. “Let go of me!” Your voice raised as you pulled away. 
“No!” 
“I’ll never forgive you!” 
“I don’t care!” 
“Felix, let go! I’ll stop being your friend! Don’t call her!” More tears filled your eyes. “Please, don’t call her.” 
“I’ll call your mom. I’ll call your dad. I’ll call your siblings and I’ll call the cops.” 
“You’ll lose me,” you weakly threatened. “I’ll never forgive you and I’ll hate you forever.” 
His own tears fell from his cheeks. “Then lose me. Never talk to me again, I don’t care. As long as it means you’re still alive, I don’t care. I’ll lose you either way, just don’t give up on life.” “I’d rather deal with the weight of losing you that way than the weight of writing your obituary. The world doesn’t need me to describe how good you are when it flows from you naturally. Please. Think this through for me.” 
You hated him so deeply right then and there. You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to swing and shake him. Didn’t he understand what he was doing? He was purposefully making you a burden now. Your internalized hatred of yourself would become everyone’s reality. You truly would be a problem now. 
“I know you’re struggling and it’s true, I don’t know how much you’re struggling. The future must seem fickle now, but I won’t give up on you. You deserve the future that you talked about months ago and I won’t stand by and let you rip that chance from your own hands.” 
“I will call whoever and I will scream at the top of my lungs to grab the attention of our neighbors. Not because I want to embarrass you, but because I love you. I won’t stop loving you, even if I have to stand here holding you and repeat the words for the rest of the night.” 
“Please,” he pleaded, “just give it one more day and trust me. I will find a way to help you. Don’t let whatever demons you’re fighting win.” 
It didn’t matter that your neighbors were sleeping. It didn’t matter that you were out in the open. The sobs you had been hellbent on suppressing finally slipped out. Your knees buckled and he slung you against his body. 
Your head curled into his body and your shoulders shook. His arms squeezed you and he pressed your head against his chest. The heavy thump of his heartbeat made you cry harder. 
Every organ inside of you was alive and every day, they fought to keep you alive. Memories were created from the people around you. Even when things got tough for others, how many times had you dropped your issues and been there when you were needed? 
You hadn’t met all the people you were destined to meet yet. Still so young, you had so much time left. So many seasons to enjoy and so many new hobbies to try. Unreleased songs and new movies that you’d love. 
Things don’t always last forever and neither would this discouragement and hopelessness. One day, you might be teetering on the edge of ending it all, but the future version of yourself sits on a couch at ease. They’re staring outside, drinking their favorite drink, and contentedly watching the bright yellows, blinding oranges, and soft pinks disappear as the sun goes down. 
The night will not unveil the horrors in your head and it will not be feared. It will bring new adventures and the reminder that the sun will shine again. The people you love will be by your side. You’ll find new reasons to fall in love with the world around you. A bad day will just be a bad day and not stain your life worthless forever. 
As Felix gripped you, he uttered a silent prayer. Whatever was out there, whether it was merely his own subconscious or a god, it helped him save you. He’d call your family and he’d find you help. 
For one more day, you’d continue living, but this time, you wouldn’t be carrying the weight of your sadness and hurt alone. 
| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |
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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 4 months ago
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ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕜🧸
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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕟𝕖: Love at first sight
Word count: 3865
Summary: Y/n are oppressed and exploited, her grueling day of endless cleaning is a bleak reminder of her harsh reality. However, when she stumbles into a serene studio and meets Felix, an omega whose scent promises comfort, her world shifts. As Felix reveals Y/n’s true destiny as their last mate, she finds herself torn between fear and hope. With Alpha Chan’s unexpected kindness and the warmth of her newfound pack, Y/n’s journey from a life of servitude to a place of belonging begins, sparking a transformative chapter of love, acceptance, and new beginnings.
Warning: Angst/comfort, abuse, cursing, hate, insecurities.
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“Are you done cleaning the dance studios?” a rough voice asked Y/n, causing her body to go still on the floor. She was on her knees, finishing up the last of the cafeteria cleaning. Her body ached, and her arms screamed in pain from the scrubbing and washing she had been doing all day.
“Yes, Alpha,” she whispered, bowing her head and staring at the floor. She despised this situation; she despised him. Her hands trembled with fear as she awaited his command, waiting for him to use her, to dictate her next move like the slave she felt she was. But she could endure no more; everything hurt. She was on the verge of passing out. Exhausted was an understatement.
“Very well then, once you’re done here, go finish up in the studios. Most of the producers have been up and about all day, and their scents are becoming nauseating,” he snarled at her as he grabbed a plate. “I believe you have nothing else to do, hm, pretty girl?” He knelt down and grasped the omega by her chin. All she could do was look at him with disgust and fear. His fingers clawed at her jaw, making her whimper. She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for him to violate her as he normally did, but he was quickly interrupted by a group of trainees making their way to grab their dinner.
He huffed in frustration as he quickly pushed her away, causing the girl to knock over the bucket of water she had been using to clean the café earlier. She scrambled away from the raging alpha, fully aware of what he was capable of. “Look what you’ve done!” he hissed. “Clean this up and finish with the studios. I’ll see you later.” He licked his lips as his eyes roamed up and down her body. She stiffened and quickly grabbed the cleaning supplies from the ground. She knew better than to make a scene, as it would attract the attention of the trainees who were now chattering and selecting their meals.
“Pfft, pathetic,” she hears him say before he forces a smile and walks over to the kitchen. Once the coast is clear, she lets out a soft whimper as tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She hated every part of this—who wouldn’t? Being an omega was already difficult. They were at the bottom of the hierarchy and treated like objects rather than human beings. They were weaker and smaller, viewed merely as breeding machines, used solely for giving birth to pups for their packs or mates. It was truly horrible to be an omega.
Just like Y/n, many omegas were sold for substantial sums due to their rarity. Omegas began to go extinct when alphas established the largest omega rings, engaging in selling and trading while abusing their power. This exploitation led to the gradual decline of omegas, who suffered from painful subdrops or were outright killed. If an omega was found wandering alone without a pack, it was often the last time they would be seen.
“Breathe, it’ll be okay,” she whispered to herself as she grabbed her bucket and made her way to the studio. She walked through various corridors, ensuring she greeted her fellow omegas who were also working alongside her. Some of them were friendly, while others remained nonverbal due to the abuse they endured underground. The JYP building is enormous, housing a multitude of employees. The omegas knew their routes, focusing solely on cleaning and other duties, working day and night to ensure that all trainees and important idols were satisfied and that no complaints arose. If a complaint was lodged against an omega, they were taken away and never seen again. It is a cruel reality.
The first studio was dimly lit; it resembled the other studios, but this one was designated exclusively for Alphas. The scents surrounding her made her feel uneasy, and her Omega growled in response. However, she knew she had to complete her task or face punishment. She quickly began working to eliminate the overpowering scents of the Alphas, her hands moving swiftly as she hoped no other Alphas would enter. With determination, she successfully finished her work and made her way to the last studio.
She felt weak and exhausted, a fact evident in her trembling knees and chapped lips. She hoped they would be fed tonight, but her mind was spinning, and her inner omega was furious with her. The omega constantly urged her to protect herself or flee, but Y/N had learned to ignore this inner voice, leading to a back-and-forth struggle between them, sometimes resulting in complete silence, which could lead to a subdrop if she wasn't careful.
When she finally reached the last studio, she noticed the sign written on door, straykids, she instantly instantly let out a sigh of relief. This was the only room she could tolerate due to the pleasant They weren't gross or overwhelming like those those in the rooms for the other other groups of idols trainees; instead, instead, aromas aromas comforted At first, first, thought thought was was strange, but she got used used to it, making it one of the rooms rooms she actually actually enjoy. She quickly entered and to clean clean up. No one was inside, which they they all probably probably gone home. she she mistaken mistaken when she heard the door open and close, prompting her to hide behind the couch. Was it an alpha?
“Hello?” a deep voice called, sending shivers down her spine. “Is anyone in here?” he asked again, walking around. His footsteps were light, and his scent was incredibly sweet. Her omega was going feral over it, and she could instantly tell he was a member of the group also an omega, which helped to calm her nerves.
Mate, Mate, Mate, Mate.
What? Her eyes widened as she shrugged off her omega, which did not please her omega, causing her to start going feral.
Mate! mate! mate! Smells so good!
“Stop it,” she whispered harshly to herself, attempting to suppress the cries for this so-called mate. Her heart raced, and her chest felt tight. The room fell silent as she slammed her hands against her mouth, realizing what she had just done.
“Stop what?” The voice startled her, causing her to scream and fall back against the wall. She looked up and saw a blonde man gazing at her with a puzzled expression, almost grinning at the younger omega. “I knew someone was in here,” he said, chuckling. “What are you doing?” He extended his hand to help her up. “There’s no need to hide,” he added, his eyes sparkling as the corners of her eyes crinkled.
She sat up, terrified, wishing the wall could swallow her whole. He was beautiful, with long blonde hair and tiny freckles scattered across his face. His smile was radiant, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened as he let out another giggle.
“I’m so sorry; I was just cleaning. I’ll leave now. Please don’t tell—” she began to panic as she quickly stood up from the corner. If she hadn’t had her patches on, she knew the room would have been filled with her rotting scent.
“Hey, hey, hey, calm down. I won’t hurt you,” the omega said, standing up from the sofa and raising his hands in defense. “I won’t tell anyone, okay? But are you alright?” Felix looked at the trembling omega, attempting to soothe her by releasing pheromones. He had never seen her before, but his omega was howling and urging him to talk to her, hold her, and even protect her.
What’s your name?” He stepped forward slowly, extending his hand for her to take. “Come on, I promise I won’t hurt you.” Y/n felt dazed; his scent was both calming and overwhelming. Her omega instincts craved it, as if it were gradually healing her body from its aches. “Y/n… my name is Y/n,” she replied softly, her hand slowly reaching for his.
Felix let out a sigh of relief as she took his hand. Electricity coursed through his veins at their skin. Her omega was satisfied with the contact, and both of their eyes flashed gold. “Well, Y/n, my name is Felix. You have such a lovely name,” he said with a smile. He understood why she was terrified; after all, he was an omega too, and he knew how cruel people could be. Judging by her reaction, he had a feeling she was one of the less fortunate omegas who were targets in this harsh world.
“Thank you. I apologize for you finding me here,” Felix said, looking at the omega with confusion. Why was she apologizing? “I was almost done cleaning, I promise. I’ll head out now; don’t mind—”
“Wait, why the rush?” His hand tightened around her wrist, causing her eyes to land on their intertwined fingers. “I was waiting for Channie-hyung anyway. I could use some company,” he smiled, hoping the omega would stay a little longer. “Would you like a drink? You look quite unwell,” he remarked while analyzing her facial features. She was beautiful; she really was. However, she appeared quite unhealthy, and Felix instinctively knew she was a cleaner based on her outfit and the cloth in her hand.
“I-I can’t; I will get into trouble…” The sound of a drink was enticing to Y/N, but she couldn’t risk getting into trouble again—not after the incident that occurred last time. If she did, she would face severe consequences, or worse.
“Oh, come on, just one drink! I promise no one will find out. It’ll be our little secret. Plus, I have so much left!” he exclaimed dramatically, causing her to smile. That made Felix’s heart skip a beat. “I made you smile, which means you owe me this,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and eliciting a tiny chuckle from Y/n.
Her eyes quickly glanced at the time, and she sighed, realizing that the omega—well, Felix—wouldn't give up. “O-okay. Just one drink won't hurt,” she finally conceded. She hadn’t felt this happy in a while. Even if it was just a little, she couldn’t help but develop feelings for the boy, her omega purring in response. He barely knew her, yet he was so caring.
"What would you like? We have a variety thanks to Changbin-hyung; he loves collecting different drinks for everyone." He squats in front of the mini freezer, sorting through the variety of beverages. "I geuss you wouldn't like anything alcoholic," he says, looking up at her. She quickly shakes her head in response.
“Can I please have a bottle ofwater?” she asked quietly. Something simple yet satisfying.
“Yes, of course,” he said, grabbing a cold water bottle and a fruit bar before handing them to her and sitting down on the couch with his drink in hand. “Here, sit,” he patted the couch. “I promise I don’t bite,” he teased. She gave him a small smile before sitting at a distance and sipping the water. She couldn’t help but moan, earning a look from Felix.
“Sorry, its been a while, when she noticed the shocked look on his face. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn't help it; the cold water soothed her throat.
“Been a while since you had a drink ofwater?” he asked, glancing at the omega nervously. What the hell was wrong with the JYP staff team.
“Yeah,” she says quietly, her eyes fixed on the table as she appears embarrassed. Felix couldn't help but frown; his omega instincts urged him to take her, to nest with her, and to cuddle her until she felt better and looked healthier. However, he knew that for now—at least until Chan arrived—he would have to maintain his composure. He honestly didn’t know how to manage all the emotions he was feeling, and it was evident when the omega next to him shifted and looked at him nervously.
“U-um, Felix… are you okay? Your scent—” She wrinkled her nose at the smell of burning cake or chocolate brownies; she couldn't quite pinpoint it.
“I’m so sorry,” he said quickly, covering his glands with his hands in an attempt to calm down. “My omega is just going really crazy right now.” She gasped upon hearing this. So, her omega wasn’t the only one acting erratically? Was Felix actually her mate? No, that was impossible. She shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows. His scent sweetened even more at the thought of her being their last mate.
“Cute,” Felix couldn't help but whisper, causing her to turn as red as a tomato. “I mean—” he coughed, feeling his own cheeks flush, “ugh! I’m sorry; I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he grumbled while tugging at his sweatshirt.
“It’s okay, Felix. My—um, my omega really likes your scent,” she says quietly, nervous that he might reject her. “She keeps saying something about…”
“Mate?” he asked, equally shocked by her reaction.
“How did you know?"
“Because my omega is saying the same thing,” Felix says quickly as he sits up with a smile on his face.
“But… it can’t be,” she whispered, looking at the bottle in her hand. “This has to be a mistake.” She shot up from the chair, startling Felix a bit. Was this too much for her to handle? He let out a tiny whimper, afraid she was going to reject the bond. They barely knew each other, and he had already screwed up.
“No, please don’t leave,” he pleads, gently grasping her wrist. “This has to mean something, right? We can’t just ignore it.” She tensed as she sensed another scent in the room quickly looking at the door. An alpha. 
Fuck.
“Felix, I’m sorry I’m late,” a panicked voice entered the room as the door swung open and then shut. Chan looked up from his phone when he sensed the panic in Felix’s scent. He stopped in his tracks upon noticing a girl standing close to Felix. “What’s going on?” he asked slowly while setting down his laptop bag. He growled, disliking the fact that one of his packmates was in distress.
Y/N flinched at his growl, quickly realizing he was the pack alpha. She gulped hard and lowered her head, staring at the floor. “I’m sorry, Alpha. This is a big mistake. I mean no harm; I’ll leave now,” she said, panicking like a deer caught in the headlights. Her body, unlike before, began to tremble as she hurriedly grabbed her supplies.
“No, Y/nnie, wait! Don’t leave. Let’s talk about this," he begged once more desprate for her to stay. "Chan! She’s our last mate,” he exclaimed, looking at the alpha for help. “I know it! My omega has been going crazy, hyung.”
Shoot me now, was all Y/n thought as tears filled her eyes. Felix had potentially put her at great risk with this alpha. She didn’t know him, and to her, all alphas were mean and terrible.
“Okay…” He takes a deep breath calming down before stepping closer. “Let’s all take a deep breath and talk about this,” Chansaid, looking uneasy as he glances back and forth between the two omegas. Felix's hand remained tightly wrapped around her wrist. Chan noticing her work badge. Great she was an employee, he didnt have to worry about Felix's safety for now. “What’s your name, love?” he asks, releasing calming pheromones for both omegas to inhale.
Y/n looked at him nervously, but her body relaxed when his scent reached her. That was when she noticed what he had called her: Since when did alphas refer to omegas as Love? since when were alphas ever nice? Knowing the rules that had been established, she bowed and replied, demonstrating her submission to the pack alpha.
“Y/n, sir…” she says quietly, and Chan frowned at the name she had called him. Sir? Why would she refer to him that way unless… oh, no.
“You’re a ring omega?” Chan gasped, looking at her. He noticed all the signs: skinny, unhealthy, bruised, and dirty.
Y/n’s eyes widen at the mention of the ring, and her omega lets out a whimper, causing Chan's alpha to growl.
Protect, protect, protect.
His alpha chants resonated within him, leading to a profound realization: Mate.
“Yes—yes, sir,” she nodded, ashamed, while looking at the floor. Felix hadn’t even known this; well, he had his suspicions, as mentioned before, but he thought it might just be related to her job. “I truly apologize for intruding on your territory, Alpha. Please don’t hurt me. I will get out of your way,” she slipped her hand from Felix’s grip and bowed to the Alpha.
He smelled different from other Alphas, and the way he was built made her certain that he was a pack alpha, especially with the seven marks on his neck. Her omega instincts were on high alert. She longed to taste him, to beg for him; she wanted to bear his children and care for his pack. Her mind was telling her no, but her heart—and the slick that was growing between her folds—was saying yes. She desired him intensely.
“It’s okay, Y/nie. I won’t hurt you. How about you put everything down while Felix takes you back to the dorms to clean up? Hm? Obviously, judging by the way Felix is acting and how my alpha seems to want to mate and knot you right now in this studio, it means something.” He smiled, pulling Felix into a hug and giving him a deep kiss.
The boy blushes and lets out a whine, “Hyung! Not here.” He lightly smacks the alpha on the chest, causing him to laugh.
“M’ sorry. I just missedyou, pretty. did you have a good day?"
"yeah, we finished up the new dance with minho, he left to go start on dinner," his hands were wrapped around Chan's waist as he softly scents his cheek. "You're coming for dinner, right?" Chan hums in response, looking back up at Y/n and waiting for her to respond.
Y/n gazed at them adoringly, wishing she too had someone to kiss like that. However, she was jolted from her thoughts when she recalled what the alpha had asked earlier. Going back to the dorms? She would be in serious trouble with the head of staff if he found out. Was she truly their last mate? What would others think of her? What would the six other pack members think? This was all overwhelming, and her anxiety was causing her scent to saturate her patches, making them even itchier.
“I’ll take her to get cleaned up, Hyung. I can’t believe this!” he giggled excitedly. “We have another omega! Han is going to be so thrilled; we can create another racha.” He clapped his hands and quickly pecked Chan, making the older alpha grin at his happy omega. The room smelled sweet with all the joy.
“But… but my job, Alpha. I can’t leave. They’ll find me,” she whimpered, looking at Chan. Clear panic is evident in her eyes as he notices a familiar expression that Han would display whenever his panic attacks would strike.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll talk to them, alright? They can’t hurt you when they know you’re mine.”
Her heart fluttered at that; he had just claimed her.
“Yours?” she asks softly, gazing up at him. He smiles and gradually pulls her into a hug. Initially hesitant, he quickly envelops her when he sees her move closer, aching for his touch, he engulfs her quickly.
“Yes, mine. Will you allow us to take you in?” He asked rubbing her back as she slowly melted into his embrace.
“Yes. Yes, Alpha,” she whispered, but Chan whined at the name again. They would need to discuss that later.
"Oh my days! I'm going to explode with happiness! Y/bnie, you're the last packmate!" Felix was literally vibrating with joy.
Her omega was leaping with joy at the thought of finally being free and having a home filled with a pack. She inhaled more of his scent and couldn't help but smile. "I promise not to let you down once I become a part of the pack."
"I believe so. Welcome home, little one. It's been a while," she said with a giggle, covering her face shyly.
“Channie hyung?” Felix calls, pulling Chan out of the hug. He hums in response as he looks at the boy, who is all giddy and happy. “Can I take her shopping first, pretty please?! And to the hair salon and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, Lixie. I know you're excited, and you can do all that after you introduce her to everyone.” Felix frowns but soon nods in agreement. “She needs some rest, plus Han would be furious with you when he finds out you went on an omega day out without him.” His eyes go wide before he nods again.
“You're right, hyung! Oh my gosh, I totally forgot. Come on, Y/nnie, we need to get you home as soon as possible!” He snaps his fingers before grabbing his bag.
“I’ll stay back and handle her paperwork, okay? I need to have a conversation with Sanhoo. I'll text the group and inform them about this. Please make sure Minho attends to her wounds,” Chan said, causing Y/n to tense up. She tugged at her skirt, now feeling a little self-conscious about it. He noticed but decided to talk to her about it later, not wanting her to feel embarrassed or insecure.
“Okay, babe, see you at home.” Felix pecks him on the cheek before grabbing her hand and leading her out the door.
“Felix, shouldn’t I drop off the cleaning supplies?” she asks, glancing back at the bucket and the items left scattered on the floor.
"No, I’ll take it." Chan quickly collected the few wash clothes and buckets.
“But sir-”
“I’ll take it. Y/nnie Don’t worry, I don’t want you running into Sanhoo; I promise it's okay,” Chan reassures her. Sensing she was uneasy about the situation, he couldn't blame her. He knew Sanhoo’s job and how he quite frankly made sure to embed fear into omegas. He didn’t like it at all, but there was little he could do.
"Okay,” she hesitated before making her way behind Felix. She was quiet the whole walk down. Felix entertained her by asking her questions and telling her about the pack and all the stories they lived. She was thankful that he was a yapper because her whole life she was isolated.
“Its 8:30; Minho-Hyung has probably cooked really delicious food. Do you like ramen?" Felix asks as they sit in the car. “Oh hi, Mingi!” He beams at the driver, who waves and bows to the younger boy. “This is our driver, Mingi. His going to be around for a while, so you have to get used to him.” He giggled before looking back at the driver. "Mingi, this is Y/N! We just found out she’s in the pack,” he boasts as he lays his head on her shoulder. “Isn’t she so pretty?” He asks innocently, causing the girl to blush and cover her face.
“She is indeed Yongbok; quite a lucky fella, aren't you?” The driver responds, enjoying the conversation with Felix.
“I am,” he says while yawning.
He glanced at Y/N before looking outside the window, explaining the different places and where the best spots are. Y/N listened to his calming voice, feeling safe and settled. Her eyes slowly shut and she felt a tiny kiss on her forehead as she slowly purrs due to the affection, falling into a deep sleep.
✩🍄🌻°。🧸🍎🧺☘️₊˚🍯
Authors note: Hey! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! please don't forget to reblog and follow. Welcome to my blog <3
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bangchansgirlsblog · 1 year ago
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Push and pull.
Warning:  Angst
Pairing: skz x 9th member
Summary: The constant pressure of being a girl in a group of boys is crazy but crazier when your looked at like a fragile baby.
!not proofread so forgive me for mistakes!
**
“Oppa just tell me what’s wrong pleaseee?” She begged, “I also care about you and you need to calm down. This is scaring me,”
"No I want to only talk to the boys, please Y/n?" He said and It stung. 
Han had been having a mental breakdown and had been crying for an hour straight. They had just arrived from practice when he decided to brush everyone off and leave to go to his room where Y/n had been begging him to come out of.
"Okay," She softly said and left the room. Was she not going enough for him? Did he not like her? The thoughts run through her head as she laid in bed trying not to cry. The pain of feeling neglected was slowly eating her alive.
She had been begging him to tell her what had happened but he refused. He didn't want to tell her what was going on but once the boys walked in back from their schedules, he wanted to speak to them straight away. Leaving Y/n sad and confused. 
She decided to to finish some work as she waited for the boys to finish talking to Han but even then her heart wasn't settled. She wasn't able to concentrate. The guilt was eating her up. It made her feel sick. So she decided to go make herself some tea and that's when she run into Felix in the kitchen making some brownies.
"Hey Felix," she softly smile and greeted him.
"Hey Y/nnie!" He beamed and waved at her then continued to mix the mixture in the bowl. "where you able to get more tape for your knee?"
"yeah i was, Eunwo (their manager) was able to get me some on our way back," she explained while she got a glass of water. "What are you doing?"
"Making brownies for Hannie, he isn't feeling the best," Y/n turned to look at his older brother.
"Can I please know why?" She took the chance to get it out of Felix because she knew Felix wasn't their strongest soldier when it came to keeping secrets from one another.
"No I'm sorry, Han said not to tell you," he looked back at the butter quickly trying to avoid the eye contact.
"But Lix-"
"No I'm not telling you, it's not my secret to tell," he cut her off and continued his work. He felt really bad for leaving her out but he knew himself he couldn't spill anything just yet.
"Okay, fine be a meanie,"  She softly sighed and got her cup of now iced coffee.
"No don't be like that, Han will tell you when his ready," he pouts walking over to her to her. hoping that someway he could fix the situation. 
Everyone knew that Y/n felt left out most of the times because she was the only girl and sometimes the boys had things they couldn’t tell her or share with her but other than that they told her everything and they tried to make her feel apart of the group. 
Since felix was the most sensitive and softest out of everyone he felt the need to protect her because felix did feel left out at a point when he couldn’t speak korean fluently and Y/ was the one who would stay up with him trying to help him study. In this case, Y/n was not feeling this 'brotherly' love. 
She shrugged his hands off and took a step back trying to get out of his reach. "I'm his bestfriend too, I'm part of this team too but I keep being treated like I'm an outsider," She let out a sigh and wiped the rolling tear. Trying to make sure Felix didn't see her cry.
"No don't cry please," he begged but she simply walked past him but ofcourse felix tried to follow but she stopped him and continued into her room where she locked the door and stayed there for the rest of the evening.
When it was time for dinner she went outside to grab the stuff she had ordered since leeknow wasn't cooking tonight and she sat on the empty dining table. Everyone was still sat in Han's room and there were a few empty cups on the table meaning they had all eaten already.
Felix had left her a plate of brownies for desert and a cup of milk so atleast she knew they still acknowledge her. As she sat there she got bored and saw it was 8pm.
So since she had nothing planed for the evening she decided to get up, put everything away and grab her training stuff to head to the jyp building. It was a short walk anyway and korea was a safe place to be wondeirng at night. The builidng looked quite empty but a few people were locking up and packingup to head home.
She scanned the hallways for an empty room and she finally did find one but was soon interrupted but Jae Beom and his crew. His smile was bright and he was so excited to see her.
"Y/nnie!"
"Oppa!" she squealed. Her sad aura was now replaced with happiness at the sight of her favorite older brothers. She quickly run over and age each of them hugs while saying hello.
"What are you doing here so late? Where are your brothers?" He asked dropping his practice bag and walking back over to her. He pulled her in a hug once again. Although they worked in the same company they barely saw each other due to schedules and stuff.
"Han wasn't feeling well so they are taking care of him and I decided to come practice," She explained. The boys were now all paying close attention to her.
"Ahhh I see! Can we join you?" Mark asks. His hands were in his pockets and they all didnt have makeup on so it meant that they were also here just for free practice.
"Yes sure, I need company anyway," She smiled and headed over to the laptop that was by the speakers. "What should we start with?"
"Can you teach us S-class? Its so hard and we've been trying to learn it," Jackson pouts and raffles her hair,
"Yeah the hand movement is impossible!" Jinyoung chirps in.
She giggled at this because they all reminded her so much of her little brothers back at home when S-class had just come out. "Sure, I can its not that hard," the groans in response made her laugh fill the room so she just played the song and they all run through it as she taught them step by step and by the time they were done, it was 1 in the morning. ONE IN THE MORNING? fuck.
She quickly took out her phone from her bag and looked at it to see thousands of missed calls and (as if in cue) that's when Hyunjin and I.N slammed the door open. they were both panicked and Hyunjins phone was ringing alot while I.N was frantic talking to someone of his phone.
"There you are!" Hyunjin exclaimed panting and huffing. "We've been calling, texting and even fucking tracking your phone, why wouldn’t you tell us your here? This is extremely dangerous Y/n! Oh my God!"
"Y/nnie! do you know how worried we were?! Chan hyung and Leeknow hyung are on some road screaming your name looking for you everywhere," I.N yells at her causing her to jump at the sudden loud voices.
"My phone was off, I was just practicing here-" she tried to explain but was interrupted immediately. 
"Okay, it doesn’t matter now, let's go home, we were worried sick, hang on...grab your stuff," he got out his phone and started talking to someone that sounded like Chan. With the way Hyunjin was cringing she knew she was dead meat. 
She quickly grabbed my Bags, her laptop and quickly said bye to everyone who were also as terrified as she was but they totally understood and told her to just be safe and to text them. She quickly made her way behind Hyunjin and I.N who were towering over her. Once hyunjin hang up the phone finally, he slowed down so he was walking by her side.
"Never do that again please,"
"But I was just with my friends,"
"You know we don't trust you in a room full men," he softly says ruffling his hands through her hair.
"Yeah I know, I know. I'm in shit, i've accepted it," she groaned but remembered the only reason she was in this mess, "Is Hannie okay now?"
"Yeah he is and he wants to talk to you," She look up at him confused. Her heart jumping. 
"What about?" she asked on a confused tone. Hyunjin glances over at I.N who gulps. They both look at eachother as if communicating.
"Felix said that you were upset-"
"I wasn't upset really," She quickly explained.
"Oh well now you can explain that to him anyway but right now those are your least of your worries cause Chan is going to kill you in cold blood," I.N takes of his jacket and hands it to her. she was freezing and she was wearing a tank top but luckily I.N had a hoodie and jacket on.
Ugh. She sighed softly when they arrived to the house. She stopped causing the boys to look at her confused. Her worries and sadness came washing over her. With the way she had fun at the studio with her other brothers she had totally forgotten the depression she was facing at home.
She took a deep breath (quite dramatically) earning a chuckle from both boys and she walked up the stairs into the house where Chan and Leeknow were Ofcourse sitting on the dining table with a coffee mug both. She couldn't even sneak past them which was her only hope in avoiding them. She quickly turned around but was met with Hyunjins chest. sigh.
"Stop, turn around and sit," Chan voice was loud meaning he was serious. she quickly followed his instructions and sat on the chair across both of them.
"What time is it?" He squints his eyes and looks at her.
"1:30 Oppa," she sighed and looked down at her fingers. 
"Why would you leave the house without letting us know? What if something had happened and we didn't know-"
"Your always scolding me and not treating me like an adult," she snapped at him. This made Hyunjin stop in his tracks and turned back and I.N  paused whatever he was doing to over at them. Never ever did she snap at the boys especially chan because she loved them and they were older than her so she was so respectful. This was a shock and the gasp that left leeknows lips was evidence.
"That's not true I always treat you like an adult," Chan defended himself. 
"You don't Oppa! You don't get it, just because I'm 19 doesn't mean I'm a kid, I'm only one year younger than I.N and he gets treated like an adult, everything I do you guys have to be there watching and whenever you guys have conversations I'm pushed to the side. Yes I get I'm a girl and I'm young but it doesn't mean I'm not part of the team, I'm allowed to walk out the house right now if I wanted to, if I wanted a babysitter I would have hired you a long time," 
"Y/n dont raise your voice at hyung like that. Its not right," Leeknows eyes were red. he was pissed off and it was clear. 
"Dont talk to me like that Y/n. If you have a problem you tell me, you dont yell. Look at me when im talking to you," She looked up at him. He looked tired, frustrated and mad. He had to first deal with Han...now this?
"fine sorry," she was done. she was done with this conversation, she was done with the boys, she was done with everything. She stood up and stormed out the room. Chan following right behind her 
"We're not done here young lady, You think i want this? you think i want to constantly be checking on you? you think i want to be. You keep acting childish thats why i have to keep tabs on you!" with every second he was getting louder and louder. 
"Chan dont, lets go calm down-" leeknow grabs his arm trying to keep him away.
"Y/n go to your room," Changbin interferes trying to break the two up. 
"See!" she exclaimed and walked into her room shutting it and locking it.
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enluv · 1 year ago
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boyfriend texts – ft. stray kids
pairings: OT8 skz x (mostly) gn&fem!reader
genre(s): fluff/comedy for the most part, some comfort as well, and maybe a bit suggestive in some (minho’s) but not really, established relationships! skz love their partners sm ahhhhhh!
warnings: suggestive in some (nothing crazy), dark humor, curing probably, minho’s mentions cannibalism like once but NOT IN A BAD WAY I PROMISE and I think that’s all (lmk if I missed something!!)
enluv asks that you please do not spam like posts!
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coco’s ♥︎ note: happy new year my tooties!! it’s been a long year for us all, but sincerely hope that the next one will be better or equally as good as this one for you! thank you for all the support you’ve given me this year, it means so much to me! I hope to continue to bring you new skz content this coming new year :) I love you all and hope you enjoyed these!! as always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3
stray kids taglist — @en-fvr @bloom-bloom-pow @enhacolor @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @chaerybae @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @queen-klarissa @bangchansbae @odxrilove @borahae-reads @s00buwu @jiawji @haechansbbg @mxlly143
Want to be tagged? Check out the form here!
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strayingawayy · 9 days ago
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"i blinked and suddenly i had a valentine"
...the one where you're not quite sure how and why hyunjin loves you, but he does, and that's all you really need
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it's the way he just loves you like it's normal. you don't know how to describe the feeling but it makes your eyes well up with tears everytime.
with your limited experience of love, you've never once had someone love you back as strongly as you loved them. that was until you met hyunjin.
the way he kisses your forehead before he puts down your cup of coffee on the table, the way he smiles at you every morning as he grabs you and pulls you over him, the way he silently adjusts your rings and earrings whenever you're rambling on about something that happened at work, the way he sends you random messages throughout the day about how grateful he is to have you in his life, the way he always kisses your face to wake you up in time for work and ensures you still have fifteen minutes to cuddle, the way he silently rests his head on your shoulder as he stands behind you, hands caressing your hips and soft kisses being planted on your neck.
you're not used to it. all your life, you've been the one giving and giving and giving until your glass was empty and the moment you asked for any sense of reassurance or comfort, you were told to be too much.
but with hyunjin, for the first time, it's like you're finally able to get back the love you always wanted. and this time it's not even a small portion, hwang hyunjin loves you like the world was to end tonight and he'd have no regrets when it comes to you.
so it takes him by surprise when he slips his hands into yours one sunday afternoon, the grey clouds outside admirers of your love and leans down to press a kiss against your lips only to see fat tears rolling down your cheeks.
he immediately lets go of your hand to grab the sleeve of his sweatshirt and wipe your tears away, afraid he had done something wrong.
but he's even more confused when you bury your face in his chest and cling to him tightly as you cry your heart out. hyunjin doesn't know what he's done to make you so upset and he's almost afraid to hug you back but seeing the way you hold onto him, he wraps his own arms around you before cautiously kissing the top of your head.
"you-you don't have to-i've never- i love you hyune." you cry out.
and hyunjin can only smile softly as he gathers you in his arms and takes you to the couch to get you comfortable on his lap.
he wishes he could tell you. but he can't. words fail him when he needs them most. but he knows you understand, he knows you can feel how his heart bursts from love for you.
so he'll write about it someday, maybe paint too.
because he just hopes you know that even if the earth burns to ashes, hwang hyunjin will never stop loving you.
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0omillo0 · 1 month ago
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BIKER LEE KNOW
x reader <3 angst —> comfort/happy ending
everyone warned you about him, how he plays with girls and then leaves… you don’t believe them, until…
The clock ticked quietly in your room, the only sound breaking the heavy silence. Rain pattered steadily against your window, mimicking the slow tears that streaked down your face. You clutched your phone tightly in your hands, scrolling through old messages, trying to reconcile the sweet, caring Minho you’d been dating with the cold, distant person he’d become over the past week.
You couldn’t help but smile as you thought of the day he took you to the diner on his motorcycle. The ride had been exhilarating, the city’s lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of color as you held tightly to him, feeling the comforting warmth of his back against your chest.
When you reached the diner, Minho had insisted on ordering three servings of pudding.
“You’re unbelievable,” you teased, watching as he tucked into the first one with childlike enthusiasm.
“Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned closer, spoon in hand, and offered you a bite. “C’mon, taste perfection.”
The way he watched you eat—like you were the most fascinating person in the world—made your heart flutter. Afterward, he’d noticed your hair was windblown from the ride and gently brushed it back into place.
“These moments… they make me feel alive,” he murmured, almost to himself…
But that Minho had vanished. It started with him being quieter during your calls, then came the short, clipped replies to your texts, and eventually, nothing at all.
You (Monday, 7:12 PM): Hey, how are you? Did you make it home safe last night?
My Mimo💕🏍️ (Monday, 9:45 PM): Yeah.
You (Tuesday, 4:30 PM): I was thinking about getting tickets for that movie you mentioned! What do you think?
(Seen, no reply)
You (Wednesday, 10:15 AM): Are you okay? I feel like you’re being distant. Did I do something wrong?
(No reply)
You’d tried giving him space, telling yourself he might be busy or overwhelmed. But by Friday night, the ache in your chest was unbearable. The rumors—about him being a heartbreaker, about him getting bored and leaving without a word—crept into your thoughts like poison.
“Maybe they were right,” you whispered, the tears coming faster now. You curled up in bed, clutching your knees to your chest. “Maybe I was just another distraction for him.”
….
It was a saturday night, the knock on your door was loud, urgent, and startling. You glanced at the clock, 11:47 PM, and hesitated. The rain was heavier now, and the thunder growled low in the distance. You wiped at your eyes, your heart pounding. Who could it be at this hour?
You opened the door cautiously and froze.
Minho stood there, drenched from head to toe. His motorcycle helmet was tucked under one arm, his leather jacket soaked through, and rain dripped from his dark bangs onto his flushed face. He looked… disheveled. Vulnerable.
“Minho?” you managed, your voice shaky.
His eyes softened the moment they met yours. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low and rough, almost drowned out by the rain.
You blinked, torn between anger, confusion, and a flicker of hope. Your teary eyes must have been obvious because his expression shifted to one of guilt.
You stepped aside wordlessly, letting him in.
Inside, Minho stood awkwardly near the couch, his shoulders tense. He looked around your apartment like it was unfamiliar territory, though he’d been here many times before. You crossed your arms, watching him carefully.
“You’re soaking wet,” you said flatly, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a towel. You threw it at him without ceremony.
He caught it, his lips twitching into a faint, almost apologetic smile. “Thanks.”
You stayed standing, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he just dried his hair in silence, avoiding your gaze.
“Why are you here, Minho?” you finally asked, your voice trembling.
He stopped mid-motion, the towel hanging limply in his hands. “I owe you an explanation.”
“You think?” you snapped, the bottled-up pain of the past week bursting out. “Do you have any idea how hurt I’ve been? You disappeared without a word! And after everything people said about you… I didn’t want to believe it, but—”
“Stop,” he said, his voice cracking. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But it’s not what you think.”
“Then explain,” you challenged, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively.
He took a shaky breath and sank onto the couch, running a hand through his damp hair. “I didn’t know how to deal with what I was feeling,” he admitted. “I thought if I put some distance between us, I could figure it out. But all I did was screw everything up.”
“Figure out what?”
He looked up at you, his eyes glassy with emotion. “That I’m in love with you.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and raw.
Your breath caught, and you took a step back, your mind racing. “You… what?”
“I’m in love with you,” he repeated, his voice firmer now. “I’ve never felt this way before, and it scared the hell out of me. I didn’t think I deserved you, and I didn’t want to risk messing things up. But pushing you away was the worst thing I could’ve done.”
You stared at him, your heart pounding in your ears. Tears welled up again, but this time they weren’t from pain. “Minho, you really hurt me,” you said quietly.
“I know,” he said, standing up and taking a tentative step toward you. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you let me.”
You hesitated, your emotions warring inside you. But the look in his eyes—the vulnerability, the sincerity—broke down your walls.
Slowly, you closed the distance between you, reaching out to touch his face. “You’re an idiot,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek.
“I know,” he said with a soft smile, his hand coming up to gently wipe the tear away.
And then you kissed him.
It was slow at first, hesitant, but then the dam broke. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, as if he was afraid you might vanish. The kiss deepened, raw and desperate, a mix of apology and promise.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily. He rested his forehead against yours, his hands cradling your face.
“Does this mean I still have a chance?” he asked softly, his lips quirking into a hopeful smile.
You laughed through your tears. “You’re lucky I love you too, Minho.”
His grin widened, and he kissed you again, this time softer but no less passionate.
That night, as the rain poured outside, the two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, the pain of the past week washed away. And for the first time in days, you felt whole again.
tags: @hannamoon143 @intartaruginha
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sunboki · 7 days ago
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⎯ for eternity longer. (teaser) ⟡ featuring christopher bahng
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🍼 : Christopher Bahng x implied! fem. reader
TROPE. pregnancy! au, dad! channie au, overall so so fluffy, comfort, slighttt angst if you squint
WORD COUNT. estimated to be around 4-6k words
WARNINGS. worry about delivery complications, cursing (??), anxiety
AUG'S NOTES. welcome to… brainrot central, the blog YOU can visit whenever you need a daily dosage of utter brainrot from yours truly. this piece is definitely front cover because ughhh our channie as a dad has lived in my head for years, very happy to finally be bringing my ideas to life :)
PLAYLIST.
SYNOPSIS. Christopher Bahng had intentions upon one day being a father, but when the news of a little one on the way becomes the forefront of a life he’d initially spent with one world, you, he’s quickly introduced to the second world he’ll come to adore, a baby.
or alternatively :
Blossoming beginnings, and the bump.
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“Channie, baby,”
His name is whispered between sleepy breaths, brows knitted where your eyes attempt at focusing amidst a slumbering haze.
The meager vision granted from a candle paves view to your husband, currently resting his cheek against the soft bump of your belly, pressing the occasional kiss there.
“It’s so cute,” He mumbles, tracing shapes along the skin, eyes crinkling into the dimpled-smile you’ve come to adore.
“‘S late.”
Offering the remark, you smooth a thumb along his jaw, dipping down to trace his bottom lip and earning a small peck against the digit in reply, chocolate irises flickering up to your face with so much love you fear you’re melting.
“I know,” Chris whispers where his lips press to your thumb, voice muffled. “I’m sorry just—“
One chaste kiss to your belly later and he cracks a smile.
“Just love it.” 
Another kiss, then another.
“Love you, love this. I’m so happy.” 
You are my world, he professes wordlessly, and you scorn the heaviness of your eyes in shielding him from view, the inability for your vocal cords to utter those same three words as you drift back to sleep.
And this is my second world, Chris thinks to himself, fighting slumber to gaze at you just a moment longer, savor. 
Because he couldn’t explain how lucky he is, and how beautiful you are, and how warm he feels, his head fuzzy and jumbled into mushy bliss.
A baby, and the thought alone makes him want to squeal.
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Chris had yet to ever be hit by a tsunami (thank goodness for that), but he thinks he’s found an equivalent to the feeling.
That equivalent being a particular call while in the studio, an unsettlingly studious Han Jisung seated behind him on the couch while Changbin stands in the recording room, pointing out things in need of fine tuning.
So when you call, he’s led to believe it could be regarding dinner, maybe a date preposition away from his busied schedule.
Yet, upon hearing a sniffle, his eyes round to the size of saucers, index aptly missing where he’d click his mouse, drawing the attention of his fellow producers, their eyes narrowed in mild concern.
“Chris.. baby, I know this is so.. so sudden but,” Between your hiccups and his heart racing, he reruns everything that could’ve gone amiss. He knew you were running late when it came to your period thanks to the cycle-tracking app on his phone, but then again, usually it’d miraculously show up.
Maybe he’d said something? Forgotten something?
Birthday, anniversary, a family member passing?
His head fills with a plethora of possibilities, too many to pinpoint.
“Baby I,” You pause, and Chris rises up to slip to the corner of the room, shushing you gently.
“Hey, hey honey, ‘need you to take deep breaths, okay? It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay. Tell me whenever you’re ready.” He consoles, shifting from foot to foot in a futile attempt at warding the nerves.
A sharp inhale and then-
“We’re having a baby, Chris. I’m pregnant.”
It’s hard for you to even believe, and Chris swears his stomach jumped to his throat for a moment, making hurried eye contact with an evidently confused Han and Changbin from across the studio.
Pregnant.
Immediately abandoning his work, he grants the two a hurried nod they simply wave in response to, fervently racing from the building and somehow managing to avoid a ticket on his 20-mile-over-the-speed-limit drive home, rushing through the doorway to scoop you up into his arms and hold you close, let you cry as much as you need.
Hell, he’s not the one carrying the baby anyway. You’re the one in need of all the fretting.
As if he didn’t fret over you anyway.
Tender fingers ease back the strands of hair from your face, pressing kiss after kiss to your sniffling frame.
If you want to keep the baby, if you need time to think, time to be alone, he’s ready for that. All of it. 
Though contraceptives were always in play when it came to the bedroom, it seemed some things would remain out of control.
“I’m.. hic.. I’m keeping it, okay?”
And he’s okay with that, okay with anything his beloved decides upon, thumbing the tears from your pretty face to place a slow kiss to your lips.
On this presumably routine Thursday of his, Chris finds out he’s going to be a Dad.
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
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finnbbl · 5 months ago
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Skz when you suffer from PTSD - DanceRacha
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Skz Fake Texts
Prompt: You show visible signs of ptsd, skz is there with you through it all the way
Genre: Angst/Comfort
Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: grabbing, mention of hitting/harming physically. Imk if i missed anything
Requests: OPEN
Masterlist
Please read disclaimer in masterlist
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oddinarylani · 1 year ago
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'i wish you'd just care about me' arranged marriage skz.
pt 1: chan, lee know, changbin, and hyunjin.
w: blood, violence in changbin's
pt 2 is ⇀ here
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𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴
it wasn’t the best of circumstances. no. the day you were bathed in white, promised to a man, and walked down the aisle by your father to be given to the hands of your husband was one you spent in mourning, swallowed by grief. “i bet you’re so excited, yeah?” the makeup artist asked, brushing a pearly shade of pinkish red onto your lips. she had a soft genuine smile as she asked, surfacing you into reality from the fogginess in your head. you nod, once, “yes, i am.” you lie in an attempt to make conversation easy. most of the guests that day knew of the arrangement, but other’s hadn’t a clue - which made appearances dire to keep up with. part of you was pleased to move onto a new chapter in your life if it meant moving on from life with your parents. but the other part reminded you that you were going into a new marriage completely blind to the man you’d call your husband. you met him one singular time before changing your last name, the entirety of it was spent with your parents talking to his own - glances you cast in his direction, if only to study the face of the man you hoped to love one day. 
his jaw was set coldly, eyes focused on the conversation shared between your parents. he was handsome but just stone. was anything there? you would wonder. is there a man beneath that face? the bone beneath his skin rippled in tender structure, ears pierced, nose rounded, and a heart-like shape to his mouth. while there was no longer hope to hold out for, you scrounged up a bit more in the depths of your chest in desire to love him one day. truly love him. and to be loved in return. 
two months into your marriage and you still feel the brick wall dividing you from your husband. it wasn’t exhausting all the time, no. you saw him smile; a few times actually. sometimes you think of it when going to sleep. you hadn’t heard him truly laugh, but you still maintained that same hope from the first time you ever saw him that one day you’d be the reason for him to. your new routine as husband and wife took a minute to settle into; with chan slowly rising to ranks of his family’s company and your own growth in the business of your own. your days were spent at home in your office working from home, a lot of calls into business meetings that you kept your mic muted for, and phone calls to overseas clientele for holiday season. 
chan would wake in the morning and rise from your shared bed quick to get ready for work, leaving you to fix coffee and shrug on a robe in the cold of your home (winters weren’t kind in the mornings) when he’d leave, you’d have a cup ready for him, cream and a sugar cube. “thank you, have a good day.” he’d wish, already halfway out the door with a small tired smile on his face. “you’re welcome, you too,” you’d say, scrolling through your phone as the door would shut. 
he’d take little notice to your attempts at growing your relationship, and you hadn’t had the time to bring it up to him yet that you wanted to try to have a wonderful marriage. you’d step into the living room wearing a new dress for a banquet for the company, smile a bit wider and brighter than usual - he’d look up from the couch, phone still in hand and would give you a thin lipped smile. “you look nice.” you’d rent a movie, one he’d said he’d wanted to watch soon, and welcome him home with drinks by the couch and he’d brush it off, “ah, sorry. i have a company thing tonight. tomorrow maybe?” of course, he’d forget the next day anyway so it would all be for nothing. when he’d come home extra late and you’d be in bed, buddled in pjs in the comforter with a book and the lamp on next to you, you’d muster your best smile and set your book down. “hey, how was work?” he’d sigh, pulling the tie from his neck. “nothing new really.”
and then you’d beg yourself, beg yourself, to just answer the question of why were you in love with him? 
maybe it was for all the times you’d get to see him smile, the chuckles as you’d watch a movie, the thank you’s for cooking, and everything in between. maybe you loved him for the way he stumbled into the kitchen almost late for work, his hair a bit messy and his tie disoriented and you stopped him - “wait,” you put a hand up, walking up to him to fix his tie. it was the closest you’d ever been to him besides the day you’d gotten married, you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “sorry, my hands are cold.” your voice still laced with sleep as you straightened his tie and flattened his hair. “i-it’s okay.” he assured, clearing his throat. “eat some on your way to work, coffee’s on the counter. have a good day, okay?” you push a few pieces of toast wrapped in a napkin into his hands, pointing to his coffee before turning back to the stove. “r-right. thank you, have a good day.”
that was pretty cute. you even for a moment thought there’d be hope for you, as his cheeks flushed pink when you started working on his tie. sitting at your desk in your office you’d smile at the thought before catching yourself and smacking your own cheeks. 
but time was catching up with you, and the unbearable ache of loving him was almost too much for your heart to handle. you at least needed to know if he felt the same or if he ever could - but in the following days after your realization, you proved yourself right. there was no way. no way this could work out. a steady stream of emotion was constantly running through you; you couldn’t focus on work, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat - and you wondered if he even noticed. you were growing increasingly frustrated with chan, and every passing day of limited conversation, barely any eye contact, and virtually no response from chan was wearing you down. one second you were smitten, and the other you were pissed. 
and it eventually all came to a halt. 
the front door of your house shut loudly, louder than usual. and you had a sneaking suspicion chan hadn’t the best day at work. well. that was a shame - you were still pissed, and to think he had the audacity to come home angry from work when he could barely prove to be a communicative partner was enough to leave your blood boiling. you’d let him have it if given the chance. 
“how was work.” it wasn’t so much a question as much as a routine statement. you sat on the couch, shuffling through your movies to find the one he’d been wanting to watch, which upon realization, you didn’t know why you did that when you were pissed at him. 
“fine.” he stomps into your shared bedroom, yanking the tie from his throat as he did so. you roll your eyes and keep shuffling with a much heavier hand this time. when he re-emerges from the bedroom, he’s shed his tie but still has on his button-down and suit jacket on, you furrow your brows and sit up from the couch. 
“what’s wrong? what happened?” you ask out of the goodness of your heart. he tosses open the fridge, sighing. “nothing. nothing happened.”
“you wanna watch that movie you said you wanted to see?” he runs his hands over his face, closing the fridge door. he looks for a moment as if he’s thinking, his hands on his hips as he swallows. “no. not tonight.” he finishes, beginning to walk out of the kitchen before you stand.
“i really really wish you just cared for me.”
it was quiet, quiet, when you said it. the words left your lips before you could realize that your vision was getting a bit glossy. he freezes in his tracks, whipping his vision towards you at the sound of your voice. there wasn’t venom to your words like you expected there would be, no. just defeat. chan hears it, he hears it in you and all of his frustration, his anger, his annoyance, just melts away. instead, his chest is swallowed with guilt. 
“i try,, i try so hard to make this work, chris. i really do.” you wipe your face even though tears haven’t fallen yet, and he thinks it’s to stop them from ever doing so, at least in front of him, and his chest aches. he’s turned to face you now, just six feet away or so, and his brow softens at the sight of you. 
“i cook for you and make you coffee every morning and try renting your favorite movie because you said you wanted to watch it and wear pretty things out to work events and when i go out with friends but,, you don’t,,,” you look at him when you speak, he sees that water building in your eyes and takes a step closer to you, almost wanting to reach out but stopping himself before he’s to do so. your head shakes, you sniff one more time. 
“because that’s what married people do.” this time he does walk closer, you don’t move, but you don’t look him in the eye either - it seems much to hard to do when you’re on the brink of crying. 
“i promised myself,,” you lift a clenched fist to his chest, tapping him once with it, your lips screwing together in frustration though your voice is still soft and tearful. “that as your wife i’d love you one day.” your hand drops from his chest, you wipe your eyes when a single tear spills over your waterline, ducking your head to do so out of his line of sight. “is it too much to ask the same from my husband.”
it’s quiet for a minute, in one way he knows everything to say. every sweet word to soothe over your aching heart, because that’s what he’s suppose to do as your husband, and there’s another part of him that has no clue what to say. 
because what kind of husband is he to leave you feeling as empty as this.
“i told myself on our wedding day that,, i never wanted to be the one to make you cry.” his palms come to cup your cheeks, though his large hands end up swallowing some of your jawline and neck as well. your eyes widen a bit at the feeling, “look at me?” he asks, voice quiet. you do so with guidance from his own hands. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.” even he has some water building on his waterline, you notice. you frown, feeling his thumbs dry your under eyes. 
“i never wanted to make you feel uncared for or unheard. i appreciate everything you do for me. and i’m sorry i’ve made you question if i care for you.” he wipes his thumbs under your eyes once more before his hands lower a bit. “you’re my wife. i care about you so much. and i’ll show you that, i promise.” 
you talk for a little longer, but disregard the movie for the night, instead, you settle on curling up beside chris who wraps an arm around you, his cheeks a bit pink as you adjust yourself in his hold. he feels the burn of your own cheeks against his arm. “is this okay?” he asks, his opposite hand settling on your hip. you smile, “of course. i’m your wife, you can touch me. can i touch you?” he hums, scooting closer, giving you the okay to lay your arm across his midsection. you close your eyes for a moment, if only to enjoy the feeling of holding your husband for the first time. the warmth that always seems to naturally radiate off of him, the closeness of his breath, the feeling of being the only woman who gets to see him like this. 
“i didn’t know you were so cuddly, mr. bang.” you smile to yourself, his hand stroking soft over your hip. “only when given the chance, mrs. bang.” he replies. “ooh,, too smooth.” you admire. 
when silence encircles the both of you, and you feel sleepiness begin to creep up on you, he speaks again, “did you mean it when you said you’d learn to love me one day?” his voice is quiet, so tender - it licks at the wounds of your heart and seals them shut. your heart pounds behind your ribcage and you breathe deep to settle the rage of affection steadily brewing in you. “of course.” you reply, your face beginning to bury in his neck. 
“well, that’s a shame.” you furrow your brows, opening your eyes to look up at him. before you can reply he speaks again. “because i love you now.”
 𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀.↴
“the summer berries on the bushels in the forest are getting ripe now, i brought you some.” you lift your basket, both hands wrapped around it’s weak woven handle, showcasing your proud supply of freshly picked goods. you set the basket down a moment later, your husband batting a quick eye to the basket before he looks back to his spread of books a second later. “mm.” is his only reply. 
lee minho was the protector and guide of the largest castle in the northern part of your land. he was a renowned alchemist and practitioner of magic, known for being aid to a handful of people in the village you were raised in, and most notably - a fierce god of night. a vampire. 
it was true the stories of bloodlust and killings that tainted centuries of vampire lore; but lee minho set out to do something different. he hadn’t a care of the human experience, which he shared with that of his ancestors, but he had no need to kill them either. animal blood tasted just as delicious as a human’s. and when befriending a human, their loyalty was like no other. so he didn’t kill them, no, he made pacts and promises, and if anything used them more like pawns but they’d die soon before he did. 
and then there was you. his wife. promised to his hand by your family - a pact of sorts, one of which you both hadn’t necessarily agreed to if it wasn’t for both of your families stepping in to further push along the marriage. in a quiet candlelight scenery you were married to your now husband, and your seal of a kiss was shared. which, honestly, you didn’t regret. he was very handsome - and kissing handsome men was always a joyous occasion (well, mostly anyway) 
he was rageful. not at you, maybe more to existence itself. he was never angry towards you, he never showed it, but you could see deep within the brown wash of his eyes that he was indeed an angry man. he had a hate you’d only seen a few times, and every time you looked a little too hard you felt yourself look away - to anywhere else in the room. afraid of what it meant, afraid of his own distaste. 
“you’re wearing the dress.” he notes. his vision still wondering over the pages in his book. your slightly fallen expression gleams a little at his comment. “yes, of course. you bought it for me.” your hands smooth over your torso, he still doesn’t look up. your lips twist at the sight of your husband’s disinterest, but you turn to wash the berries and leave the room. 
most of your marriage to minho felt like a huge disinterest on his side. he’d lived many years, this much was true. but in your short time to live, you longed for a husband who loved you; and part of you thought minho was largely incapable of this. he never showed it. he never showed anything for that matter; he was always so far away. life not only was nonexistent to him as a man, but in his very eyes. he showed not a shred of emotion, and even in your good memories with him, he showed very little. part of you blamed it on his years of living, but yet the other part of you reminded you it was all the more reason to care. every day felt like a slow drag, you weren’t really living, not really. survival maybe. but being bound to this castle with a man who rarely payed you mind left an ache worse than death. were you not to his standards? maybe that was it. 
you’d shed too many tears over the situation, now every time you cry you try to pull yourself together in the face of your grief. upon talking to your family, a few members reminded you that your voice was powerful, and you should very much share your opinions to him on the matter if your marriage was to work - but that was the thing. a few months in with the man you were to learn to love, and you felt even now it was helpless. it was a sting that brought you to your knees, god how you wanted to just tell him. tell him you loved him - and hear it from his own mouth. 
upon your ravage of feelings and your family’s request, you resorted to writing a letter to your husband. you surely wouldn’t have the guts to face this powerful man in person, not like this. so you took to beginning your note in scribbles in the isolated space of your bedroom. 
your lips twitch in thought as you think over the contents of your letter, your hand stilling still quipped with a quill. you’re swallowed with silence in the stillness of your bedroom, word after word is brought to the front of your brain. there’s a number of things you could say, but not enough words in the world to describe how you felt. 
“lee minho, i’m unhappy.” you speak aloud as you write, taking a moment to look back at your writing, quickly scribbling the line out before starting again. 
“dear husband, i have a few things to bring to your attention.” you nod along as you write, happier with this line. 
“i believe if we’re to work as husband and wife, we should talk more.”
“i try time and time again to gain your attention, to bring you happiness in a way i know how.”
“but,, it seems to never be enough.”
“if you don’t want me,” you pause, your fingers fumble with the quill in your hand as your palms begin to warm against the hardwood. your lips twitch again.
against all things in your brain reminding you a married couple should speak of their issues and this was a must in your relationship if either of you wish to continue - an overwhelming feeling of pure grief washes over you and your hand as you still to keep from writing. 
every bright moment in your relationship flashes before your eyes like matches starting a fire. it’s so overwhelming that your voice dies, and a tight tug at the back of your throat halts you to a shred of reality you hadn’t dwelled on. you sit further back in your chair, eyes glossing over into thought - lost entirely to the contents of your brain. realization has hit you like a truck in the face of your confrontation. 
because what about all of the wonderful times you’ve spent together.
what about the dancing of your wedding day, the golden burn of his watchful gaze, the presents, the meals shared, the wishes of good morning or good night? what about all of the times that kept you so closely tethered to him? what about the times that kept you in love with the man who barely spoke to you. 
you take a breath - and as quiet as it would be, it’s blaringly loud in the silence of your bedroom. 
“i want to love you. i do. and,, i think i do.” clarity has left your quill, and instead, you write from your heart. what you truly feel. 
“i hate that you don’t notice when i try to do kind things for you.”
“i want to work in matrimony of us.”
“i know our marriage is against our wishes, but i want to make it work.”
“i just.. i just wish you cared about me.”
a hand sharply grabs your chin, pulling your gaze to meet that of your husband's golden gaze. 
“not care?” he asks, his face screwed into a sort of confused expression. “not care?” he asks again as his expression contorts again, further - until his hand is tender. 
you’re so sharply pulled from your own head that you’re left with whiplash. he’s heard you? where was he? did you leave the door open? your eyes are blown wide as you face him in the realization he’s heard everything.
your mouth dries as you look at him, his gaze cuts into your very being and you feel utterly frozen. “no-! i didn’t mean it-” “you do though. i’ve made you feel this way.” his gentle grip on your chin leaves you, and he shuffles away, sitting firmly on your bed. his gaze seems lost, as if he couldn’t keep up with the words you’d admitted. 
“minho..” “i do care.” he cuts in. you swallow, your brows melding together as you do so. “i don’t… want you to feel this way. and i’m sorry for doing so.”
in the face of confrontation he seems genuinely distressed, not that any part of you doubted it - but it was comforting to hear the words leaving his mouth. 
“if we’re to be married, i want you happy. comfortable. i don’t want you to feel bad because of me.” he explains. 
“i just,, i want to work this out. i want us to talk more; tell me what makes you happy and what hurts you.” you reassure, holding onto the back of your chair as minho’s head hangs low. “i’m your wife, i want to hear all of that.” a small smile stretches across your mouth; it’s lopsided and a bit sad, but it’s there nonetheless, and the sound of your voice lets minho’s head rise as he meets your gaze once more. 
he sees in you the beauty he sees across the room even as you just sit a few feet away from him. it’s overwhelming, suffocating; and part of him hates it a little bit for suffocating his heart in one swift swallow. you’re all encompassing and human - he’s learned self-control few could achieve, and yet even a few months into a marriage he didn’t agree to and he’s smitten. he wants to reach deep inside his chest and pull his heart out by it’s tethers, and apart of him wants to feel your love to the highest degree he could if just to be surrounded in heaven once more. 
“were you lying then?” he pauses, hands wrung together. “when you said you loved me?” a small quirk in the corner of his mouth leaves your face and chest hot. 
“i wasn’t lying.”
minho’s made home on your bed, lulled to his side as his pretty eyes wash over your face. you aren’t connected, in fact, you’re a little afraid to touch him - regardless of this fact, your wrist lifts to reach nimble fingers to his face, but you pause, your soft fingers retracting into your palm. 
“touch me.” he needs. his hand cupping your own to bring to his face tenderly.
your face is flushed with a dusty pink, the feeling of his face beneath your touch lights the nerve endings in your palm alight. your brow quirks in thought, but not for a moment do you part with his sun-washed eyes. 
“how did you become a vampire?” you ask quietly, your thumb strokes the soft skin beneath his eye, his hand stroking the back of your own. 
“i was born into it. my family comes from a long blood-line of vampires.” you hum in response, taking a moment to study the wash of sun-like gold that overtakes your husband’s eyes. fractals of evening sun beam through the curtains in your bedroom, creating a soft sleepy haze in your room. dust is seen floating in the room in the portions of sun that reach into the room. 
“you’re beautiful.” he beats you to it, realizing he too has been looking at you the entire time. you retract your hand nervously, a smile stretching across your face in sweet embarrassment. “thank you.”
“do you want to be one one day? or do you value your life?” he’s half joking, a floppy smirk on his lips as he sighs a laugh. you hum once more, looking to his mouth to see the slight glimpse of fangs visible to you. 
“maybe. if it meant i got to spend more time with you, than yes.”
minho’s smirk widens, his eyes washing from your face to the curve of your jaw, to the drop of your neck. his mouth parts, his hand coming to the curve of your ribcage over your waist, his warm hand freezes you in place. he lowers his lips to the column of your neck, a lowly drunken gaze filtering over his face. “that could be arranged.” his breath meets the tender flesh of your neck before he presses your waist closer to your body, his soft lips meeting your neck in a single kiss. 
𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷.↴
“be careful on the job today.” you crane your neck out of the doorway of the kitchen to look at your husband as he tightens a holster around his thigh. he looks up for a moment, face momentarily stricken with something similar to surprise at your well wishes. he looks down a moment later, checks the clip of his pistol, and then shoves it into the holster. “i will. i’ll be back tonight.” the door closes sharply behind him and you’re left in the silence of your home yet again. 
there’s a pool of melted ice on top of your coffee, you take a sip anyway, the palm of your hand now wet from the sweat off the glass. in truth, you were trying. very sternly trying to make your marriage work. but with circumstances of said marriage coupled with the dangerous reality of your lifestyles, it felt like your assumed fate was dwindling before your eyes - a thin bow ready to snap under pressure. 
being born into crime wasn’t all good fellas or the godfather all the time - no. it was nasty business, some of which you came to regret but again this was the only life either of you knew, leaving the business would be impossible without a gun to your head. you persevered in the face of guilt anyway, not knowing fully how your husband felt about the situation. the sound of your phone ringing brings you out of your head for a moment, leaving you rolling your eyes at the sight of your mother’s name across the vibrating screen. 
“yes?’’ your coffee tastes bitter now, too much water - you pour the contents into the sink as she begins talking. 
“hey hun, there’s a job tomorrow that’s opened up. one of the boys got canned, we’ll pay his bail through an anonymous source but we have to wait a few days so the cops don’t catch on. you in?” your fingers tug a coffee filter out of it’s wooden box, stuffing it into the machine as you press a button on your grinder. 
“mom,” your hand comes to your eyes, rubbing them tiredly. “i told you i was out of the dirty work. i’m doing that shit anymore. and i’m severely out of practice of doing anything hefty.” you explain, the grinder stops, you pour the grounds into the coffee machine. she sighs on the other end, her voice coming through more heated now - pressure started weighing on your shoulders. she says your name with a deadly tone, it leaves you feeling as though there’s a cold metal rod stiff in your back. 
“why don’t you ever look out for this family? you think you can just leave and do the bare minimum when your father and i have slaved over making a good childhood for you?” and then you’d argue back and forth until you felt like ripping your hair out and you’d finally cave and you mom would end the call sharply and once again leave you in the silence of your home that was beginning to feel more like a prison. 
when you heard the beep that ended the call, you tossed your phone to the couch and let your mind wander yet again - what else was there to do in your seemingly failing marriage and rocky relationship with your parents? you hadn’t many friends unless they were in the business, and that only counted for a few really close ones. you track around your kitchen with your fingers pushed into your hairline, and your mind wanders back to something she’d said on the phone a few weeks ago. 
“we found you your husband, is that not good enough for you?”
you hadn’t even the energy to put up with audacity of that claim. so you ended the call and showered, but it still ate at you greatly - because no. no it wasn’t enough. changbin, as dedicated to the lifestyle as he was, and you respected him for his commitment, was terrible at showing you what he truly felt. most conversations were barely that, mostly exchanges if anything - and the few good times you’ve had together were truly the only thing keeping you around if it wasn’t for the godforsaken hope you managed to hold onto. 
you saw the good in him - the good he was capable of, and every time you’d suffocate yourself in thought about being three months in and still not working together as a married couple should, you reminded yourself of this fact. it’s what kept you in, what drew you closer to him. because what could you both be? it’s already bad enough you have feelings for the guy and he clearly didn’t feel the same way. 
“fuck,, what am i gonna do.” to clear your head you showered again, tying back your wet hair and slumming around the house until changbin arrived back home when you’d be drifting off to sleep. at least you had an opportunity to clean; and when the house was clean, you felt a bit better. you were correct about changbin returning late - you heard a long sigh as he entered your bedroom, the plop of a duffel bag could be heard. when you look at the time on your phone you see it’s just past three in the morning. 
“how’d it go?” you ask tiredly from the bed, the bathroom light flickers on and he raises his head a bit. “oh i’m sorry i didn’t mean to wake you.” 
“it’s okay. you okay?” 
“yeah. yeah, everything went fine. what’d you do today?” you see the rings of exhaustion circling his eyes as he strips off his shirt and hides the smallest of winces.
you sigh heavily, rubbing your eyes as the sink begins to run. “i talked to my mom on the phone. doing a job tomorrow night. cleaned the house though.”
“what kind of job?” he asks as he starts the shower. you talk a bit louder so he can hear you over the sound of the spray. oh he wasn’t going to like the sound of this - these kinds of jobs were everyone’s least favorite in the business. 
“there’s a warehouse on fifth, when you’re leaving the downtown area. apparently some guys are trafficking there. gotta take them out.” 
“shit.. be careful. small time guys have been trying to make names of themselves.” 
“i know, i will be.”
careful you were, but careful was not enough. those guys holed up in that warehouse with every corner covered, not only that, but with automatic weapons with full mags, dressed in black to blend with the shadows. the job was done, the victims released into promised care and with you aid in the following days, be returned to their families or brought to homes, but not without some wounds of your own. the guys dropped you off at the back of your house, granted it was past midnight but you couldn’t be too careful. your home was secluded - but what the law knew was unbeknownst to the organization in regards to this mission in particular. 
you left your weapons in the van with the promise of getting them back the next day. “c-clean the blood off it for me, would you?” you grinned, shuffling from the van with your arm slung over your partner. you lean nearly fully into his weight as he aids you in finding your back door. you bang on the big sliding window before unlocking it, letting changbin know you were home. 
“we gotta get the fuck outta here. you be careful yeah? call me tomorrow morning.” the driver calls before peeling away from your home. you nod, using the wall to stumble inside your house as the living room is suddenly flooded with light, and your husband walks out of your bedroom with his phone in hand and his brows furrowed. 
“changbin,,” you push the door closed, leaving bloody handprints everywhere you touched. 
“fuck- okay, okay, okay- it’s alright. come here.” his outstretched hands come to wrap your arm around his shoulders and stabilize on your waist as he helps you walk to your bathroom. 
hot spots of pain blossom on your waist, ribs, and leg. it’s throbbing, all encompassing, and leaves your eyes watering when changbin’s palm presses a little harshly into your side. throughout the house your gasps and groans of pain are heard, changbin is working as diligently and carefully as he can to help you to the bathroom, only imagining how much you must be hurting. 
“okay, okay- i’m gonna lay you on the floor okay?” he helps you rest along the floor after he’s put some towels down, and kneels by your side before grabbing the extensive first aid kit you kept in your bathroom. you nod, closing your eyes to focus on breathing, but every breath in hurts, and every exhale throbs your wounds. 
“where are you hit?” he asks, you now notice his hands are tainted with your blood in just a few splotches. he rummages through the kit, reaching for the hem of your shirt as he cuts through your gear and clothing. “m-my sides, and,, one in my left leg.” 
“alright. it’s gonna be okay - let’s get you sewn up. what happened?” he asks as a way of distracting you from how bad this was about to hurt. he pours some alcohol in his hands before barring your torso to his eyes, now seeing the festering wounds. 
“t-they-” you laugh because it’s hurting so bad and your eyes are getting glossy as adrenaline leaves your body. “they had automatics… every one of them was geared the fuck up. and not only that but there must’ve been twenty,, twenty five of them and five of us.” 
changbin’s head slowly shakes in disappointment that you were set up that badly for failure, his haw is tight - but he remains focused on the task at hand, cleaning you up. he lifts you up with one arm and helps you shred your arms of your sleeves completely, focusing now on the wound near your ribs. “why’d they send you in with only five people? did they want you to die? fuck.” 
“seems like it.” you chuckle, his hand stabilizes before he reaches into your wound with medical pliers to grab the bullet still embedded in you. your grip tightens on the towels beneath you, eyes now swimming with tears as you groan at the feeling of the tug of the pliers. 
“i know, i know. you’re doing good though, talk about something. tell me about the job or- your favorite music or something.” his hands dip into a bowl of water, returning to your wound to clean you from blood and put some pressure on the wound. 
“the job was shit, but,, the guys are gone. all the victims are safe and i’ll work on paper work to get them home tomorrow.” he hums, nodding. he puts a bit of topical numbing around the wound before grabbing sutures to close the open wound. “as far as music,” you laugh to yourself again, your gaze focused on the ceiling. “you trying to get to know me? didn’t think you cared so much for that.” 
his hands pause. then lower. he looks at you with a kind of genuinity you didn’t expect from the man you called your husband. “of course i care. you’re my wife.” 
“you’re always so focused on the work, on your job. you’re gone a lot. i can tell you care about the organization i just,, i don’t know. i always hoped you’d care for us too.”
he frowns a bit, his gaze is focused back to his hands as he threads the string more diligently through the needle. he’s paused, he has a focused expression and you can tell when you look at him he’s thinking - part of you hopes you haven’t stumped him, or made him uncomfortable - maybe you did hold out too much hope. 
“i do care about us. about you. i always figured since we were arranged to be married that you wouldn’t want much to do with me.” when he returns to working on your wound you wince, eyes closing tight. he apologizes quietly, but it’s over quicker than you expected. 
“i want everything to do with you, silly. you’re my husband. i want this to work between us if we’re going to be married.” your eyes are still watery and the throbbing hasn’t subsided - you wonder if part of this is delusion since your filter has seemingly disappeared in the face of pain. 
he smiles, softly. “i’m sorry that i’ve made you feel that way, and hey-” his hand reaches for yours, the one that bears the ring he gifted you on the day you were married. your eyes meet his as your head lulls to the side, you grasp onto his hand as if he’d stabilize you - and he does. “i do care about you. genuinely.”
you squeeze his hand, the wash of tears that drowned your eyes from pain spill finally. “i care about you too.” 
“don’t cry, silly. i’m almost done, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” 
after changbin coaches you through treating your wounds, he runs you a quick bath and helps you wash the dirt and sweat from your hair. it felt strange to say you felt an overwhelming trust to him - but maybe that was just the energy he exuded. he helps you to bed, and quickly showers off himself before laying next to you. 
his arm wraps around you, and the pain in your side has dulled from the medicine he made you take after closing up your wounds and cleaning them. your head rests on his chest comfortably. “you never answered my question about music.” he says suddenly. 
“i’ll play you all my faves tomorrow morning when you cook me breakfast because i got shot.” you grin cheekily against him. 
“deal.”
𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷.↴
“i am to be his wife.” there was no expression in the gaze you cast your parents, hands folded neatly in front of you, ever obedient in the face of nobility. before your eyes, in the face of your youth your life of freedom ever awaiting your embrace is taken from you and shackled. your life is to be given to a man you didn’t know, and when shoved his own in your hands you feel the pulse of forgotten life in your palms. there was more to say other than you didn’t want this, there was more words you could sputter in anger at your parents, other screams and cries for this to not happen, yet you swallow, let your eyes gloss over, and prepare a wedding in the following year to a man you’d meet only once before promising forever to him. 
across from you at the altar he stood jaw tight, eyes glassy yet lifeless. when the wedding guests settled and your father handed you off to the prince’s hands, you breathed deep in an attempt to conceal the building tears that sparkled in your eyes. officiant you didn’t know, in the sea of people commending your marriage you knew few faces, and he spoke vows because of remembrance not because of promise. when he lifted the veil from your eyes to look at you, he for a moment faltered and his lips flattened. 
you kissed him because you had to. and you slept beside him that night because you had to. 
in marriage, you always imagined that life would blossom with a spark of light. as a seal to two people’s testament of their love it would grow into something truly beautiful - it would drink in the sun, bathe in the rain, paint its colors on pages and tell its story on lips through decades. as a young girl, the idea of one day marrying someone that loved you was thrilling to say the least. it was pure; and good. and every notion, every dream, every promise to your life you’d made, was stripped from you in a single evening. 
you’d rise from bed when the maids would wake you to dress. you’d be dressed beside your husband, wearing the rings that testified your union, and would watch over the kingdom that would be given to your hands one day. 
there was no use in trying, not even from the start. 
but you wanted to love him. oh you terribly wanted to love him. 
beside him you’d sleep - watching the curvature of his heart shaped lips, the breathing his body exuded - existence. how you were his without him even knowing. only in this state could you see him, really see him. the sprawl of his hair on the pillow before it was to be tied back that morning upon your wake. beautiful he was. when his eyes fluttered open, he wet his lips and you heard him speak - for the first time it felt as though it was to you. 
“i’m sorry.” 
for the entire rest of the day you spent in a haze in your own head. 
two months have gone by, and you were achingly in love with him. but you couldn’t say the same for him; his headspace was unknown. you shared a great castle together, a smaller one just outside the village as your parents lived inside the city walls in the palace, but home felt like a restraint on you. nothing was sacred.
when you spoke, it was matters of business and a shred of the time was talk of personal matters. the only truth you spoke to hyunjin was in the hours before he’d wake when sleep would leave you too early. you tuck your folded hands together under your pillow, your eyes washing over his face as he slept. upon your movement, he turned to his side, his broad shoulders creating lines of his body beneath his sleep shirt. part of you wanted to reach out, to wrap your arms around him and tell him you believed in the both of you, but your thoughts still to silence. 
“i wish you cared for me, in the way i care for you.” you mumble quietly. 
“but i cannot say it yet. you’re a shadow; yet you’re sorry. i’m so confused in my love for you.” 
that’s when he turned over, his eyes open. the maids walk in a second later and your wide eyes glance to them. they pause in their steps, looking between the both of you. had he heard you? surely not. you push yourself onto your elbows as he speaks to the maids, his own hands planted firmly in the mattress. 
“i can dress her.” 
they quickly excuse themselves after, mumbling as they leave the room hurriedly. the room stills, you’re left in the wake of his words with confusion bubbling through your head and your face suddenly flushed. he stands without another word as they’ve left the room, moving to the closet to fetch your under clothes, corset, and gown for the day. 
“hyunjin,” you speak softly. 
“i care greatly for you. i do, but-” 
you swallow, still sitting on the bed with your legs curled beneath the covers. “you cannot dress me.” you hold a hand to pause him in his movements as he approaches with your day clothes in hand. he swallows, “you’re my wife. i can dress you. if you’d let me.” 
hwang hyunjin was one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen, and this he knew as well - yet the cool confidence he usually carried on his shoulders, in his handshakes, and in his voice, had dissipated. he looked at you with darting eyes that searched your own for the answers he needed, his hands gripped your dress tight. 
his hand stretches out to you, offerance of aid. you look to his palm, the gentle length of his fingers, and find his exuding energy welcoming - so you take his hand. it’s warm as your skin washes over his own, his hands were smooth and embracing, and you stand before him with a sharp intake of breath. 
“i’ve made you feel this way,” he begins, beginning to untie the laces that hang from the neck of your night dress. there’s a great deal of nerve vibrating through your body at the prospect of him dressing you, but regardless you let him in the wake of his tenderness. and if it meant a moment you could share closer to him - you’d take it. 
“you only speak your feelings to me when you think i’m asleep.” at that your breath stills, panic settles in quietly to your bones. 
“i-i’m sorry i-” “you have no need to apologize, it’s me. i’ve made you feel this way. and i’m sorry.” when your dress is removed, he kneels at your feet to gather it before letting you step into your under dress. you rest your hand on his shoulder for balance to do so. 
“in truth, i can’t tell you why i love you.” he says, his hands working to tie your second layer skirt around your waist, once it’s firm and not uncomfortable, you turn your head to look at him with glossy eyes. “you cannot say such things to me and not mean it. you can’t.” 
“i know i haven’t shown it, but it’s true, that i promise you.” with that, he gently guides your arms through the holes of your corset, and begins lacing it, leaving your eyes drowning in tears as your lips tremble. 
“you-you haven’t shown it. how am i to know you love me or that i love you when we hardly have a relationship. you’re my husband, i want to love you as one.” you gasp as he pulls the strings to tighten it, his palm laying flat on your back as he tugs once more. 
“it’s a promise i make now, to show you i do indeed love you. i want you to tell me when you’re hurting, i want to help, i want to grow with you.” his hands lay along your waist as your corset is tightened. when he rounds you, seeing your eyes fogged over, his heart pangs with guilt. 
“i’m sorry, truly. that i have made you feel this way. but please, know my promise is true.” his hands come to gather yours in his grip. 
you nod, wiping your face for a moment as you lift your gaze to look at him. “then i’ll tell you. i’ll tell you whatever you want to hear. i want to work to make this kingdom a happy place for our people, we must work together in that regard.” 
hyunjin listens, strokes his thumbs across the backs of your hands and you speak for a while longer on your marriage, how you’re both willing to work to make your love make sense, how you wish to be a unit in making the kingdom a place of happiness for your people. he prepares for the day, wearing an outfit the same shade of off-white as your own with his long dark hair tied back into a bun. 
he offers his arm to you before you both leave your bedroom, smiling softly. “thank you for talking to me.” he says, opening the door for you. “thank you for listening and talking as well. it feels nice to have this weight lifted.” 
“i agree.”
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sorry if hyunjin's is written weird i was listening to cornfield chase by hans zimmer and got lost in the sauce.
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