Fuck periods and their cramps honestly, I felt that and I’m about to start my period soon 🫠 You can get your own personal Channie at www.getyourownchannie.com! It’s where I got mine 🙂↕️ 10/10 would recommend 🤭
Sorry it took me a literal eternity to respond to this, Tumblr finally just stopped being mean to me :(
📺 SAFE HAVEN ( stray kids )
❛ Chan takes care of you while on your period.
𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 6 mins
꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was so sweet to write 🥹 I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Reader is on her period, Chan takes care of you, you’re both visiting Chan’s family in Australia, very brief mention of guilt, let me know if I missed anything!
( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )
꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!
The soft murmur of your favorite show played faintly in the background, each line of dialogue blending into a soothing yet distant hum. The television’s glow cast a gentle light across the room, but its usual comfort eluded you today. Instead, you lay in bed, curled into a tight ball, desperately seeking relief from the relentless, gnawing cramps that seemed to seize your body from within. Your limbs wrapped around yourself as if trying to shield against the waves of pain that rippled through your core.
Your face contorted with each sharp pang, your expression a silent testimony to the agony that had besieged you since morning. The familiar script of your monthly torment played out with a cruel consistency, each episode bringing no closer respite. The same story, month after month, had woven itself into the fabric of your existence, a bleak narrative of suffering that refused to grant you reprieve.
No matter the remedy you tried, the painkillers, the herbal teas, the hot water bottles – all seemed powerless against the merciless grip of your cramps. It was as if your body had built an impenetrable fortress against relief, immune to every effort to ease your suffering. This miserable reality hovered at the edges of your thoughts, mocking your attempts to find solace. The knowledge that nothing seemed to help only deepened the sense of helplessness that accompanied these moments, leaving you to endure the pain in a seemingly endless cycle of discomfort and despair.
A groan brushed past your lips as you shifted in bed, trying to find a more comfortable position amid the relentless ache. The door to your boyfriend's childhood bedroom creaked open, revealing Chan's cautious form as he slowly made his way inside. In his hands, he held a paper bag filled with various items from the nearby convenience store. The room filled with the gentle rustling of the bag and the soft creak of the wooden floor beneath his feet.
Opening one eye, you saw Chan's gentle smile, his concern palpable even in the dim light. But the sight of his kindness brought a sudden wave of guilt crashing over you, and you quickly closed your eye again, unable to meet his gaze. Today was supposed to be filled with joy and family, a rare chance for Chan to spend a full day with his loved ones. Yet, your unexpected period had left you bedridden, tethered to the soft confines of his old bed.
Despite your insistence that he go on without you, Chan had refused to leave your side. You should have known better than to think he would actually listen when he knew you were struggling. His unwavering presence, while comforting, only deepened your sense of guilt. You felt like an anchor, keeping him from the family he so seldom got to see. The thought weighed heavily on you, intertwining with the physical discomfort in a cruel dance of emotions.
Chan moved quietly around the room, placing the bag on the nightstand. The contents clinked softly together: a mix of your favorite snacks, a bottle of water, pain relievers, and a few other thoughtful items he hoped might bring you some relief. His every action spoke of his care and love, a gentle reassurance that he was here for you, despite your own feelings of inadequacy.
"I told you I would be okay, Channie," you whined, your voice laced with exasperation. He responded with an adorable chuckle, the sound like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves, as he took his spot beside you on the bed. His strong arms wrapped around your torso, their embrace offering the perfect comfort you couldn’t resist, even as you continued to pout.
"I know you did, baby, but I couldn't leave you behind like this," he replied, his voice filled with the gentle reassurance you had come to love. His words were expected, yet they still carried a warmth that made your heart ache with gratitude. "I went out and got you some goodies instead. We can cuddle and watch your show for a while. I promise my family understands."
Despite his comforting presence, you huffed at him, furrowing your eyebrows in a show of disapproval. Still, you allowed him to turn you around, positioning you so that his warm thigh pressed against your lower abdomen. The combination of pressure and warmth brought a sigh of relief from your lips as the pain subsided a little, eliciting a light giggle from him.
His laughter was a melody that soothed your soul, and though you tried to maintain your disgruntled demeanor, the comfort of his touch and the relief from your cramps were undeniable. His presence was a reminder that you were cherished, that he was willing to sacrifice his day to ensure you felt loved and cared for.
As you nestled closer to him, the room filled with the soft sounds of your favorite show and the quiet hum of shared contentment. The guilt and frustration began to melt away, replaced by a serene gratitude for the man who held you so tenderly. In this moment, wrapped in his embrace, you felt a deep sense of peace, knowing that even in your weakest moments, you were never alone. His love was a steadfast anchor, grounding you amidst the storm of your discomfort, and for that, you were eternally thankful.
"Still, your family barely gets to see you, so I feel bad for taking you away from them when you're finally here," you mumbled shyly, a frown forming on your lips at the mere thought. The weight of your guilt pressed heavily on your heart, clouding the joy of having Chan by your side. His presence was a comfort, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that you were stealing precious moments from his family.
Chan shifted closer, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. His hand found its way to your stomach, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. The gentle motion was a balm to your frayed nerves, easing the tension that had settled in your muscles. "Do you really think my mother would have let me go out with them?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "She would've lectured for an hour about how she raised me to be a gentleman and how it would make me a jerk if I left you here, anyway."
You both chuckled at the vivid truth in his words, the sound a shared moment of lightness in the midst of your discomfort. You could almost see the scene unfold in your mind's eye: Chan, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as his mother delivered her heartfelt lecture. Despite being a grown adult who had lived in another country for a good half of his life, his mother still held a significant sway over him. It was a testament to the deep respect he had for her, a trait you found profoundly admirable.
The thought of his mother’s gentle scolding brought a small smile to your lips. It spoke volumes about the kind of man Chan was – considerate, respectful, and deeply loyal to those he loved. The room seemed to warm with the shared laughter and the soft murmur of your favorite show playing in the background.
As you lay there, cocooned in the soft blankets and Chan's tender embrace, the guilt began to ebb away, replaced by a serene gratitude. His hand continued its comforting motion on your stomach, each circle a silent promise of his unwavering support. In these quiet moments, you felt the depth of his love, a love that transcended the miles between his family and the life you shared together.
The room, filled with the gentle hum of the television and the soft rustle of your shared laughter, became a haven of peace. In Chan's arms, you found a sanctuary from the world, a place where you could let go of your worries and simply be. The guilt that had once plagued you now seemed distant, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you were cherished beyond measure.
Eventually, you came to terms with the fact that the day would have unfolded just the same regardless of your wishes. Accepting this reality, you cuddled up to Chan's warm body with a contented sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed. The weight of the day seemed to lift as you nestled closer, finding solace in the gentle rise and fall of his breathing.
Chan's fingers moved through your hair absentmindedly, each stroke a tender caress that soothed your frayed nerves. His attention was fixed on the show playing softly in the background, a familiar comfort that you had watched so many times you were sure you could act out every scene if asked. The gentle serenity of his presence was a balm to your senses, distracting you from the dull ache of your cramps, which had already begun to subside with the warmth of his thigh pressed against you.
Your arms wrapped around his torso, pulling yourself closer to him, seeking the comfort and security that his embrace always provided. The world outside faded away, leaving only the cocoon of your shared warmth and the soft hum of the television. Chan's steady heartbeat became a lullaby, each beat guiding you closer to the edge of sleep.
As sleep began to drape over you like a warm blanket, you felt a profound sense of peace. The weight of the day, the guilt, and the discomfort all melted away, replaced by the serene tranquility of being held by the one you loved. The soft whispers of the show, the rhythmic motion of his fingers in your hair, and the warmth of his body all conspired to lull you into a restful slumber.
It wasn't long before you drifted off, enveloped in the safety of Chan's arms. In those final moments of wakefulness, you felt a deep gratitude for his unwavering presence, a silent promise that you were never alone. Sleep claimed you gently, and you surrendered to it with a heart full of love and a body finally at ease, cradled in the sanctuary of his embrace.
꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)
🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!
─── ⋆⋅☆ STEADY LOVE ( xdinary heroes )
❛ A collection of heartfelt stories where love finds its strength in gentle understanding, as partners navigate the world together with unwavering support and care for each other's unique needs.
𝐱𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 29 mins
꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was so self-indulgent to write, so a very big thank you to my lovely 🍀 Anon for this request! Reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N has AuDHD in each member's piece, mentions of bees as a special interest, descriptions of being burned out and struggling with change, some very slight ableism mentioned (not from any of the members), descriptions of overstimulation, mentions of stimming, terrible flirting, overall this is very much hurt + comfort, let me know if I missed anything!
( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )
구건일 ── GOO GUNIL.
The day felt like it had conspired against Gunil, stretching itself out into an agonizing eternity, as if determined to sap every last bit of energy from him. Each second dragged on, the clock's hands moving at a snail's pace, mirroring the heaviness in his limbs. Finally, after what seemed like an endless rehearsal, an exhausted sigh escaped his lips, the sound barely noticeable amidst the hum of tired voices from his bandmates. With a practiced, almost mechanical motion, Gunil returned his well-worn drumsticks to their designated holder, a small nook on the wall that had become as familiar to him as his own reflection. The drumsticks settled into place with a soft click, the only sound in the practice room that had served as their second home.
As his bandmates began to shuffle out, their movements sluggish, weighed down by the day’s efforts, Gunil barely registered the chorus of goodbyes. Jungsu’s voice cut through the haze, a final “see you tomorrow” accompanied by a wave before disappearing into the hallway. Gunil mustered a lazy half-smile, lifting his hand in a farewell that felt more like a reflex than a conscious action. The room, once alive with the pulse of their music, now felt eerily quiet, the silence amplifying the fatigue settling deep into his bones. He reached for his backpack, its weight pulling down on his tired shoulders, just as the sharp ring of his phone shattered the stillness.
The sudden sound jolted him, but when he saw your name on the screen, a genuine smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, chasing away the exhaustion, even if just a little. “I’m done rehearsing, love, I’ll be—” Gunil’s greeting was cut short by the unmistakable sound of your excited squeal. He couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart swelling with affection at the image of you practically vibrating with energy on the other end of the line.
“Goo, you have to come home as soon as you can!” Your voice was bright, almost bursting with excitement, and Gunil could easily imagine you doing your little wiggles of joy, the ones that always made his heart melt.
“Yes, baby,” he replied, his tone gentle, hiding the weariness in his bones so as not to dampen your spirits. “I’ll be home in no time. What’s got you so excited?”
As he turned off the lights in the now-quiet practice room, the faint clicking of your keyboard reached his ears. He pictured you perched at your desk, your laptop open before you, eyes wide with curiosity. The image made him smile.
“I found this new video, and Goo, it is so cool! It's a swarm of Japanese honeybees defending their nest by slapping ants with their wings, but this one is honestly so fascinating because apparently, this colony got infected by the Varroa Destructor Mite — but they were still so aggressive against the ants and they won! Isn't that so cool? Oh, Goo, please hurry, you have to watch it!”
Your words tumbled out in a rush, barely pausing for breath, your excitement making the details spill over each other in a joyous cascade. Gunil found himself chuckling softly, warmth blooming in his chest as he listened to your passionate rambling. There was something so endearing about the way you got lost in your own world, especially when it came to bees. He could listen to you talk for hours, your voice animated and full of life, a stark contrast to the weariness that had settled over him.
He thought back to the early days of your relationship, when you had nervously explained your autism to him, worried that it might be too much, too different. But to Gunil, it was simply another beautiful facet of who you were, something that made him love you even more deeply. “That does sound very interesting, my love,” he said, trying to match your energy despite the exhaustion tugging at him. “I really can’t wait to watch it!”
The promise of coming home to you, to your bright, infectious enthusiasm, gave him the strength to push through the final stretch of his journey. “I’ll be home in about ten minutes, so hang tight,” he added, a smile in his voice as he ended the call. As he neared the apartment you shared, the sight of a family-owned flower shop caught his eye.
Even through the fatigue, his gaze lingered on the blooms in the window, your favorite flowers standing out like a beacon. The thought of surprising you with them, especially when you were already so happy, sent a thrill through him. Without hesitation, he ducked into the shop, the sweet scent of fresh flowers wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. He selected a bouquet with care, imagining the way your eyes would light up when he walked through the door with them in hand.
The weight of the day began to lift as he paid for the flowers, the simple act of thinking about you bringing a renewed sense of energy. The thrill of coming home to you, your voice still echoing in his mind, made each step lighter. As he walked out of the shop, the bouquet cradled carefully in his arms, he felt the anticipation build, knowing that soon, he would be by your side, sharing in the simple, beautiful joy of being together.
김정수 ── KIM JUNGSU.
The corners of Jungsu’s lips tightened into a worried frown as he gently rapped on the door of your shared bedroom. Not waiting for an invitation, he nudged the door open just enough to peer inside. The sight that greeted him was one of persistent discomfort. There you were, lying on your side of the bed, your expression etched with visible distress. Your laptop, casting a soft glow in the dim room, played the familiar episodes of your favorite show—one you had practically memorized through countless viewings meant to soothe your troubled emotions.
Jungsu let out a soft sigh, his concern growing with each passing moment. He stepped into the room, the plush carpet muffling his footsteps as he moved towards your side of the bed. Perching himself on the edge, he settled into the space beside you, his presence both reassuring and tender. You kept your gaze fixed on the screen, as though it were the only refuge from the turmoil roiling within.
The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and unshared burdens. After a few moments, you finally turned your head to meet his gaze, a weary sigh escaping your lips. Jungsu’s heart ached at the sight of your frustration and weariness. “I ordered takeout,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as if afraid to shatter the fragile calm. “It’s your favorite.”
He noticed the fleeting flicker of interest in your eyes, a brief spark that was quickly extinguished as you turned back to the screen with a frown. “I don’t want to eat right now,” you murmured, your tone resolute and final, leaving no room for negotiation. The firmness of your refusal stung, and Jungsu could only nod in resignation. He sighed once more, his shoulders slumping slightly as he retreated from the room, leaving you to your solitude.
For nearly a week now, this had been your reality—an ongoing struggle that Jungsu could only partially grasp. Despite the year you had been together, he had never seen you like this before. He understood that adapting to sudden changes was particularly challenging for you, especially when they disrupted the routines that provided a semblance of stability. The day you had called him from work, sobbing uncontrollably while locked in the bathroom, was seared into his memory. You had told him about your old manager’s abrupt departure and the arrival of a new, unfamiliar face. The sudden shift was more than you could handle, especially when your new manager refused to accommodate the adjustments necessary to make your work environment bearable.
As the days went on, the pressure became insurmountable. Each day, you returned home to face the aftermath of panic attacks you had kept at bay and to collapse into bed, seeking solace in the comfort of a show that could no longer ease the heaviness you carried. The joy and relief it once brought you were now overshadowed by a pervasive numbness, a stark reminder of the emotional toll that had become all too familiar.
Jungsu’s heart ached with the weight of your struggle, and though he sympathized deeply with your plight, it did little to quell his worry. He remained steadfast in his resolve to support you through this storm, even as he grappled with the helplessness of seeing you so diminished. Each day, he hoped for a glimmer of recovery, a sign that the storm within you might begin to abate. But for now, he could only offer his silent presence and unwavering support, waiting for the day when you would once again find your way back to the light.
Jungsu was grappling with uncertainty about how to pull you from the depths of your distress, but a sudden spark of inspiration ignited within him as his gaze fell upon the television in the living room. Resolute to offer you a sliver of comfort, he began a frenzied quest to transform your shared space into a sanctuary of solace. For the next half hour, he darted around the apartment, arms laden with an assortment of blankets, comforters, and pillows—each one a small testament to his unwavering determination.
With every trip in and out of the bedroom, his expression was a mixture of earnest concentration and quiet determination. You watched with a blend of curiosity and amusement as he repeatedly entered the room, his movements a flurry of purposeful activity. At one point, he even attempted to gather your collection of stuffed animals, struggling under the weight of their collective softness as he staggered out, his focus unbroken by your gaze.
The sounds of his labor—the shuffling of furniture, the occasional grunt of exertion—filled the space, drawing your attention away from the show you had paused. You listened intently, your curiosity piqued by the rhythmic clamor of activity. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of bustling, Jungsu reappeared in the doorway of your bedroom, his face illuminated with a blend of triumph and excitement. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, catching the soft light of the nightstand lamp as he panted, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
“Baby,” he called out, his voice breathless but laced with an infectious enthusiasm. His hands rested on his hips, a gesture of pride and anticipation. “Can you please come out? I made something for you, and I think you’re really going to like it!”
Despite the storm of emotions swirling within you, the sight of Jungsu’s eager, childlike gleam in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings. Intrigued and touched by his effort, you pushed yourself up from the bed, the pull of his unwavering support more compelling than the urge to remain cocooned in your sanctuary. He extended a hand towards you, which you accepted with a grateful smile, allowing him to guide you toward the living room.
The transformation that greeted your eyes as you entered the living room took your breath away. The coffee table, once a fixture in the center of the room, had been pushed to the far wall. In its place stood a grand fortress, a whimsical creation of mismatched blankets and comforters meticulously draped and layered into a cozy haven. Strings of Christmas lights peeked through the folds, their gentle glow casting a warm, ethereal light that danced across the room. The television, positioned just in front of the fortress’s entrance, was primed to play your favorite show, a comforting familiarity in its soft glow.
As you inhaled deeply, the fragrant aroma of your favorite meal wafted towards you, a final touch to the heartwarming scene. Overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude, tears threatened to spill as you turned to embrace Jungsu. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, your body shaking slightly with the emotion you struggled to contain.
Jungsu chuckled softly, his arms enveloping you in a hug that was both firm and reassuring—just the way you liked it. “Is this okay?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper as you pulled back to look at him. The tears in your eyes glistened with a profound appreciation as you nodded vigorously, your voice wavering with emotion. “This is perfect, Jun,” you managed to say, your voice cracking slightly. “It looks exactly like how my grandmother used to do it when I was upset as a child.”
Jungsu’s smile widened, his satisfaction evident in the warmth that radiated from him. As you turned and practically bounded towards the fortress, a trail of contented giggles followed in your wake, each sound a balm to his worried heart. The sight of your joy, so vividly reflected in your laughter, made his heart flutter with a tender affection that seemed to encompass the entire room.
곽지석 ── KWAK JISEOK.
The outdoor market was a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds, alive with the energy of families and couples weaving through stalls brimming with fresh produce and handcrafted jewelry. The air was thick with the mingling scents of spices, flowers, and street food, a cacophony of sensory delights that usually set your heart racing with excitement. But today, the thrumming pulse of the market felt more like a storm brewing on the horizon.
You had been standing in front of a stall, fingers lightly tracing the delicate patterns of handmade trinkets when a sudden influx of noisy tourists swarmed around you. The once-open space now felt suffocating as their loud voices clashed against one another, creating a wall of sound that made it impossible to think clearly. The proximity of strangers pressed too close, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your heart into a frantic rhythm. You glanced around, searching desperately for Jiseok, who had been right beside you only moments ago, but the crowd swallowed him up, leaving you feeling isolated and vulnerable.
As your anxiety began to claw its way to the surface, your body responded in familiar, desperate ways. Your fingers found their way to your hair, twisting and pulling at the strands as if they might tether you to something solid. Your leg bounced uncontrollably, tapping out an erratic rhythm on the cobblestones beneath you. The sharp sting of your nails digging into your palms became the only thing anchoring you, yet it also edged you closer to a breaking point that felt terrifyingly near.
It felt like an eternity, but finally, Jiseok emerged from the crowd, his eyes immediately locking onto you with a mix of relief and concern. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong—he could see it in the way your body had tensed, in the rapid, shallow breaths you struggled to control. Without a word, he reached out, gently but firmly taking your hands in his, halting the destructive cycle of pulling at your hair and digging into your skin. He interlaced your fingers with his, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.
"Hey, let's get out of here for a bit," Jiseok's voice broke through the chaos, a soothing melody that cut through the overwhelming noise around you. He didn’t wait for a response; instead, he drew you close, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your head against his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat against your ear was a familiar comfort, a lifeline in the middle of the storm.
Guiding you through the press of bodies, Jiseok kept you close, his arms a protective barrier against the world that had become too much to bear. His grip tightened slightly, applying the firm pressure that always seemed to calm your racing thoughts. "Look, we can go there for a little bit," he murmured, nodding towards a small park that sat like a hidden gem amidst the market’s frenzy. The greenery promised a respite, a quiet place to breathe again.
But it wasn’t the park that brought you solace—it was Jiseok himself. The vibration of his voice against your back as he spoke, the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his embrace all worked together to gently pull you out of the whirlpool of anxiety that threatened to drag you under. As he continued to speak, his words becoming a soft, mindless ramble meant only to distract, you could feel the storm inside you begin to subside. Your heartbeat, once wild and erratic, slowly began to sync with his, finding a steadier, calmer pace.
As Jiseok gently guided you through the bustling market, his hand remained a steady presence on your shoulder. Every so often, he would give a gentle squeeze, three soft pulses of reassurance—a silent code you both had established for moments like these, where words seemed to dissolve into the fog of your anxiety. It was his quiet way of asking, "Are you okay?" The simple gesture, familiar and comforting, anchored you amidst the swirling chaos.
In response, you reached up to grasp his forearm, fingers curling around his warmth as you squeezed twice, signaling back, "I'm better." The exchange was small, but it spoke volumes—a tender conversation held in silence, where no words were necessary, just the understanding between two souls who had learned to navigate these storms together.
The noise of the market gradually faded into the background as Jiseok led you to the park. Here, the world softened, with the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant murmur of others who had also sought sanctuary from the market's overwhelming energy. The park felt like a refuge, a place where the intensity of the outside world couldn't quite reach you. Jiseok spotted a secluded bench beneath the shade of a large, ancient tree, its branches stretching out like a protective canopy. The dappled sunlight danced through the leaves, casting a soothing pattern on the ground, and the bench offered a quiet place to rest, away from prying eyes and the relentless pace of the market.
Once seated, Jiseok remained close, his presence a calming force beside you. Your breath, which had been shallow and quick, began to slow as you settled into the quiet of the park. Jiseok's fingers found their way to your hair, gently playing with the strands in a tender contrast to the earlier harsh tugging you had subjected them to. The soft rhythm of his touch was a balm, easing the lingering tension in your body. His other hand rested on your thigh, grounding you with its comforting weight.
He spoke in a low, soothing tone, his words a gentle caress to your frayed nerves. "We can leave whenever you're ready," he suggested, his gaze drifting out to the serene view of the park, "Maybe we can grab some food and cuddle at the dorm. I'm sure the members won’t mind. I’ll kick Seungmin out of our room if I have to; he’ll just have to suck it up."
As the tension within you began to melt away, you found yourself repeating the last few words of his sentence—a familiar and comforting habit, a happy stim that signaled your return to a place of calm. "...have to suck it up," you echoed, your voice lighter now, carrying the trace of a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.
Jiseok chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket of comfort. He squeezed your hand gently, checking to ensure your nails were no longer digging into your palm. "That's my favorite sound," he teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he grinned at you, his love evident in the gentle curve of his smile.
This shared moment of lightness, of humor, further dispelled the remnants of your anxiety. In his presence, you were reminded that you didn’t have to face these moments alone—that even in your most vulnerable states, Jiseok was there, offering his unwavering support and love. The park, with its serene beauty and the quiet strength of your bond, became a haven where you could breathe again, surrounded by the safety of his embrace.
오승민 ── OH SEUNGMIN.
JYP Entertainment hosted an exclusive and lavish party at a luxury hotel, where the atmosphere blended the grandeur of celebration with the intimacy of a private gathering. Unlike the typical public events, this one was strictly by invitation, creating a sanctuary for idols to bring their partners, friends, and families without the constant pressure of cameras. The setting was resplendent, with elegant decor that reflected the significance of the occasion.
The entertainment options catered to a variety of tastes. In one corner, a live band played soft jazz, filling the room with soothing melodies. Nearby, a DJ spun upbeat tracks, enticing those who wanted to dance. For the more playful guests, a karaoke setup allowed for uninhibited fun, and a photobooth adorned with glittering lights stood ready to capture the night’s memories. A gourmet buffet stretched along one side of the room, offering an array of international cuisines, the rich aromas mingling with the laughter and chatter that filled the air.
Despite the festive atmosphere, the constant flashing of lights and the relentless pulse of the music began to overwhelm you. This was your first time attending an event of this magnitude, and though you had agreed to come because of the way Seungmin’s eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of sharing this moment with you, the environment soon proved too much. Even as you admired him, his figure so striking in the finely tailored suit that accentuated his lean, muscular build, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the grand room was closing in on you. Your hands trembled despite your best efforts to maintain composure, and a cold sweat began to form along your hairline.
You stole a glance at Seungmin, who stood a short distance away, his face illuminated with genuine joy as he engaged in animated conversation with his bandmates and senior idols from the company. They were discussing the future direction of their music, reminiscing about their journey since debuting, and Seungmin’s laughter rang out, a clear sign that he was fully immersed in the moment. For a brief second, you hoped that his distraction would allow you to slip away unnoticed, just for a moment, to calm the rising tide of anxiety within you.
The party, though well-intentioned, was far beyond your comfort zone, and the sensory overload was beginning to take its toll. You needed to escape, to find a quiet space where you could breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on you. But as you discreetly made your way to the bathroom, seeking refuge from the overwhelming stimuli, Seungmin caught sight of your retreating figure.
Unbeknownst to you, Seungmin had anticipated the possibility of you feeling overwhelmed in such a busy atmosphere. Understanding how easily you could be overstimulated, he had made sure to pack your well-loved noise-canceling headphones in the expensive messenger bag his stylist had provided. As soon as he saw you slipping away, his concern for you took precedence over the conversation, and he politely excused himself, following you to the bathroom.
Upon entering the lavish bathroom, Seungmin offered a polite bow and murmured apologies to the few occupants before your shallow breathing caught his attention. He quickly moved to stand outside the stall where you had taken refuge.
"Love? It's me," he called softly, his voice gentle and soothing, careful not to startle you in your vulnerable state. Inside the stall, your hands clenched in a futile attempt to stop their violent trembling as you struggled to steady your breathing.
Seungmin reached over the door, his hand holding the familiar headphones — a lifeline in the storm of your frenzied thoughts. "I thought you might need this," he murmured.
You reached up and snatched the headphones, the urgency in your movements reflecting the desperation you felt. As you placed them over your ears, the chaotic world outside was mercifully muted. The overwhelming cacophony faded, replaced by the comforting silence you had so desperately needed. Finally, you could breathe again, the noise-canceling barrier providing a sanctuary where you could begin to reclaim your peace.
You were immensely grateful for Seungmin’s patience, relishing the brief respite as you took a few moments to catch your breath. The bustling noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, creating a cocoon of calm around you. Just as you began to steady yourself, your phone vibrated in your hand — a text from Seungmin, despite him standing right outside the bathroom stall. His name illuminated the screen, and a calming wave of relief washed over you, your erratic heartbeat finding a more measured rhythm.
Seungmin understood that in moments like these, communication through text would be the most comforting method. The message on your screen read, Feeling any better?
Your fingers, still slightly trembling, moved to reply. A lot better, thanks to you. Everything just became a little too much for me.
The reply came almost instantaneously, and you noticed how the tight, claustrophobic feeling had dissipated. I’m glad I thought of bringing the headphones. Why didn’t you tell me though? The words on the screen seemed to convey a trace of concern, as though you could almost see the frown forming on his lips as he awaited your response.
A pang of guilt pierced your heart. You knew Seungmin would have dropped everything to help you if only you had spoken up. But you didn’t want him to worry or to spoil such a significant night. I didn’t want to ruin such a big night. I thought I would be able to handle it...until I couldn’t anymore. You sent the message with a sigh, already anticipating the comforting words that would follow.
Baby, these parties mean nothing compared to your well-being. You didn’t ruin anything, I promise. A warm smile tugged at your lips as you read his soothing words.
Moments later, another text from him appeared. Do you want to stay here for a bit, or would you like me to take you somewhere quieter?
Relief flooded over you as you replied, Can we stay here for now? I don’t want to go back out yet.
Of course. Do you want to let me in? The offer was genuine and well-intentioned, but it made you feel uneasy.
You texted back, No. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can handle being touched or having anyone at close proximity right now...sorry.
Hey, I get it. I’ll just stay here until you’re ready to come out.
Seungmin settled in by the door of your stall, his presence a reassuring anchor in your storm of anxiety. Leaning against the door, he continued to text you intermittently, checking in without overwhelming you. Despite the guilt that gnawed at you for keeping him away from the main event, you found solace in the sight of his polished shoes peeking out from beneath the stall door. His calm and patient demeanor provided a sense of security, a reminder that he was there for you while respecting your need for space.
To lift your spirits, Seungmin sent small jokes and snippets of gossip from the party, aiming to lighten the mood without pushing you too far. His thoughtful gestures made the wait more bearable. When you finally felt ready to emerge, you texted him, signaling that you were prepared to leave the bathroom. Seungmin maintained a respectful distance as he guided you out, his focus on ensuring your comfort. He stood by your side, a steady presence as you stood by the bathroom sinks, allowing you to regain your composure.
As you began to feel more at ease, your heart soared when Seungmin gently pulled you closer, swaying with you to the rhythm of a slow song that was apparently playing at the main party. The music and his embrace melded together in a soothing harmony, offering a sense of peace and connection that made the night’s earlier chaos feel like a distant memory.
한형준 ── HAN HYEONGJUN.
You and Hyeongjun had been together long enough to know that your bond was more than just a fleeting connection—it was a deeply rooted love, a steadfast commitment that had withstood the test of time. The idea of moving in together had always felt like the natural progression of your relationship, a step that would solidify the foundation you had built together. The thought of creating a home, a sanctuary where your love could continue to blossom, was a dream you both held close to your hearts.
After months of searching, of walking through countless doorways in hopes of finding the one that felt right, you finally discovered a small, charming apartment nestled in a quiet neighborhood. It was perfect in its simplicity, a place that felt like it could become your own little haven away from the world. The moment you stepped inside, hand in hand with Hyeongjun, you could almost see the future unfolding before your eyes—a future filled with love, laughter, and the simple joy of being together.
However, as thrilling as this new chapter was, the journey to get there was anything but easy. The excitement that buzzed in your chest was often tempered by the looming dread of packing up your lives and making the transition into this new space. Despite the weeks you had spent mentally preparing, gathering boxes, and organizing your belongings, the reality of the task ahead felt overwhelming once the packing began in earnest. The room that had once been your sanctuary, a place of comfort and familiarity, now looked as though it had been ravaged by a chaotic whirlwind. The bed, once a cozy nest of warmth, was buried beneath a patchwork of clothes—some folded neatly, others discarded haphazardly in the frenzy of sorting. Your once-tidy shelves had succumbed to disorder, with books that had been carefully arranged now lying in disarray, their pages splayed open as if they, too, were crying out for the order that had been lost.
Boxes were strewn across the floor, some half-packed, others overflowing with belongings that seemed to resist categorization. Trinkets and mementos from your relationship and childhood, tokens of memories that had shaped you, were scattered across every available surface. The room had become a chaotic testament to your inability to start a task and see it through to completion, the once-organized process now devolved into a mess that mirrored the storm of emotions brewing within you.
As you stood in the center of the chaos, trying to take it all in, the room seemed to close in on you. The sheer magnitude of the task at hand made your head spin, and the weight of the change—of leaving behind the familiar to step into the unknown—pressed down on you like a heavy blanket, smothering you with a growing sense of panic. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your chest tightening as the reality of what lay ahead threatened to overwhelm you entirely. You felt frozen, trapped between the urge to curl up on the floor and the fear of succumbing to the full-blown panic attack that you could feel building inside you.
In that moment, the dream of a shared home, of a future filled with love and laughter, felt impossibly distant, overshadowed by the immediate reality of the overwhelming chaos that surrounded you.
Hyeongjun had been meticulously packing utensils in the kitchen, each clang and clatter a small, careful note in the symphony of your impending move. The rhythm was comforting in its predictability, a soundscape of progress amidst the chaos. But it was the sudden, uneven hitch in your breathing that cut through his focus like a knife. The familiar, faint tremor in your breath sent his instincts into overdrive. He abandoned the half-filled box without a second thought, his concern drawing him swiftly to the doorway where he paused, eyes immediately searching for you. The room’s disarray only served to heighten his worry, but it was the look on your face—pale, strained, eyes wide with the first signs of panic—that sent him rushing to your side.
His presence was immediate, solid, a tether in the storm of your thoughts. His hands hovered just above your trembling frame, a question in the tension of his fingers, as if even the act of touching needed your permission in this fragile moment. His voice, calm and steady despite the urgency he felt, broke the silence, "Touch or no touch?" It was the question he always asked, a gentle reminder that he was there, ready to offer exactly what you needed.
Your throat tightened, the pressure of unspoken fears constricting your ability to breathe freely. It took a moment, but you managed to force the words past the lump of anxiety, your voice barely above a whisper yet laced with raw desperation. "Touch, please. Hard." The plea was met with immediate action. Hyeongjun closed the distance between you in an instant, his arms wrapping around you with a firm, reassuring pressure that felt like a lifeline. He pulled you close, your face pressed into the warm, solid comfort of his chest, as if he could shield you from the overwhelming chaos that threatened to consume you.
His embrace was everything you needed—strong, grounding, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety. His hands moved over your back, each squeeze purposeful, designed to remind you that you weren’t alone in this moment. The weight of his arms anchored you, offering a physical connection that countered the spinning in your mind. As you struggled to sync your breathing with his, he guided you gently, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, coaxing your frantic gasps to slow. The familiar scent of him—warm, comforting, like home—began to permeate your senses, grounding you further with each breath.
Hyeongjun understood you in a way no one else did. He knew how deeply change unsettled you, how even the most exciting transitions could unearth old anxieties that clung like shadows. This move, this beautiful step into a shared future, was something you had both yearned for, yet the enormity of it was daunting, and he recognized that.
Still holding you close, he gently guided you to the edge of the bed, never loosening his protective grip. His voice, soft and steady, filled the space between your breaths. He began to speak, his words a soothing balm, painting a picture of the memories he hoped to create with you in your new home.
He spoke softly of lazy Saturday mornings, where the two of you would linger in bed, wrapped in each other’s warmth as the world outside moved on without you. He painted a picture of sunlight streaming through the windows, casting golden hues across the room as the smell of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the comforting scent of your shared space. He imagined those moments when you would shuffle into the kitchen, still half-asleep, to find him waiting with a mug in hand and a soft smile on his lips. The day would stretch out before you, unhurried and serene, a canvas for whatever simple joys you decided to indulge in.
He envisioned quiet evenings in the living room, where the two of you would sit side by side, your legs tangled together as you watched movies, your laughter or quiet conversations filling the room. Or perhaps, he mused, there would be nights where no words were needed—where you’d simply sway to the rhythm of music only the two of you could hear, dancing slowly in the dim light of your cozy space. Those were the moments he looked forward to, where nothing else mattered but the gentle pulse of your love, a steady, comforting presence that would fill the apartment with a sense of belonging.
He spoke of the laughter that would echo through the kitchen as you experimented with new recipes, each attempt a delightful adventure, whether it ended in culinary success or a flour-covered mess. The thought of you animatedly talking about bees, your special interest, brought a tender smile to his face. He was excited to hear you ramble on about your latest findings, to listen to your voice light up with passion as you shared the intricacies of something you loved so dearly. For him, the simple joy of coming home to you after a long day, of seeing your face light up when you saw him, was a treasure beyond words. It was in these everyday moments, he believed, that the true beauty of life together would unfold.
Each word he spoke was a delicate thread, weaving a tapestry of the life you would build together—a life rich in love, comfort, and endless moments of shared happiness. As he continued to paint this picture with his words, you felt the tightness in your chest begin to ease, the panic that had gripped you slowly loosening its hold. The overwhelming mess that surrounded you, while still daunting, no longer felt like an insurmountable mountain.
When he offered to help you pack your bedroom, it wasn’t just the task at hand he was addressing—it was the unspoken promise that you wouldn’t have to face any of it alone. With Hyeongjun by your side, you knew that no matter how overwhelming the process might seem, you would get through it together. The future you were moving toward, though filled with uncertainties, was also brimming with the promise of love, and that was more than enough to keep you going.
이주연 ── LEE JOOYEON.
Since childhood, Saturdays had been your sacred ritual, a cherished time when you sought refuge in the comforting embrace of your favorite internet cafe. Nestled on a tranquil street near your home, this digital sanctuary had become your second haven. The space was a dimly lit enclave, bathed in warm amber hues that softly illuminated rows of screens and keyboards. The gentle hum of cooling fans and the rhythmic clatter of keys created a soothing symphony of focused activity. The walls were adorned with neon posters of popular games and vibrant advertisements for energy drinks, their colors shimmering and pulsing with the memories of countless gaming sessions. Each desk bore the marks of countless hours spent in virtual worlds, with personal touches and signs of frequent use that told stories of dedicated gamers. The chairs, worn and comfortable, had molded to fit their occupants perfectly.
The employees, who had long grown accustomed to your weekly visits, had come to appreciate your presence. They reserved a specific PC for you, tucked away in a semi-secluded corner you had claimed as your own years ago. This desk, bathed in the soft, reassuring glow of your screen, was where you felt most at ease, completely immersed in the digital adventures you embarked upon. The ritual of arriving, settling in, and losing yourself in your chosen game was a comforting certainty, a bubble of predictability in a world that often felt overwhelming.
However, recently, this cherished routine had been disrupted by a new and vibrant presence. Jooyeon, as you would eventually learn, was the boy whose frequent visits began to unsettle the calm monotony of your Saturdays. His arrival was like a burst of vivid color and exuberant energy crashing into your serene haven. The air would come alive with his boisterous laughter and animated conversations with friends, his presence a dynamic contrast to the quiet you had grown accustomed to.
Despite this disruption, you found yourself surprisingly receptive to the change. Jooyeon, with his strikingly handsome features, was impossible to overlook. His mischievous grin, ever-present and wide, seemed to illuminate the room as if he were the very essence of playful charm. Dressed in soft, well-worn hoodies paired with relaxed jeans, and with his shoulder-length hair cascading like a dark, flowing waterfall, he exuded an effortlessly cool demeanor. His interactions with friends and his choice of games created a vivid contrast against the backdrop of your reserved routine, adding an unexpected layer of excitement to your once predictable Saturdays.
There were moments when, despite your best efforts to stay focused on your own game, you would catch fleeting glimpses of him from the corner of your eye. You tried to remain unobtrusive, but Jooyeon's unabashed enjoyment of the popular games he was engrossed in was impossible to ignore. The occasional flicker of movement or the burst of his distinctive laughter would effortlessly draw your gaze, breaking through the veil of your concentration.
On one particular Saturday, Jooyeon’s frustration had reached its zenith. After what felt like the hundredth defeat in his solo game, he dramatically slumped back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head in a gesture of surrender. His eyes, alight with a mixture of defiance and amusement, wandered towards your screen, where you were deeply immersed in a particularly demanding quest. As you navigated through the game with meticulous keystrokes, Jooyeon’s gaze lingered on you, an unspoken challenge mingling with curiosity that sent a flutter through your heart.
Despite the distraction of his intense scrutiny, you managed to achieve a hard-fought victory, leveling up with a triumphant flourish on your screen. The soft hum of intrigue that escaped Jooyeon’s lips prompted you to finally look up, your heart racing as you became acutely aware of the flush warming your cheeks. Jooyeon’s grin remained undiminished, his eyes sparkling with an affectionate, teasing light. After a moment of shy silence, his laughter bubbled forth, a soft, infectious sound that seemed to fill the space between you. His amusement wrapped around you like a playful embrace, acknowledging the unspoken connection that had quietly woven itself into the fabric of your Saturday rituals.
When he finally spoke, his voice was a low murmur, meant only for you to hear. “I heard that game is pretty good. Do you mind if I join?” The simple invitation opened the door to a new, intimate connection. From that moment on, Saturdays transformed into a shared adventure, where you and Jooyeon would indulge in games together, swapping playful jabs and cracking jokes. The hours spent with him became the highlight of your week, and the growing affection you felt for him added a layer of significance to each interaction. You found yourself seeking ways to show him how much he meant to you.
Noticing his habit of picking at his skin whenever he was stressed or anxious, you returned the following week with a thoughtful gift: a textured, silicone stress ball from your own collection, designed to help him redirect his nervous energy without damaging his skin. On another occasion, as you patiently waited for him to clear a level in a game you were both playing, you couldn’t help but be charmed by the expression of concentration on his face. Without fully thinking through your words, you blurted out, “You have this cute habit of pouting when you’re really focused. It’s kind of distracting, but in a way that makes me want to keep watching.” The sudden boldness of your words left you both blushing, but Jooyeon’s shy attempt to hide his wide smile made the moment feel worth the slight embarrassment.
When Jooyeon revealed that he was an idol, the bassist for the rock band Xdinary Heroes, you found yourself spending the entire week immersed in his music and learning everything you could about him. By the time Saturday rolled around again, you were eager to confess your newfound knowledge. As he settled into his usual seat beside you, you said with a grin, “I was thinking about you so much that I ended up reading every article, watching every video, and listening to every song from your band. I have so many questions about you guys!” The sight of Jooyeon’s typically casual demeanor giving way to shyness, while his grin widened, was heartwarming. He eagerly entertained each of your questions, his enthusiasm is infectious as ever.
Finally, on one late evening, as the employees of the internet cafe gently nudged you both towards the exit, you lingered outside, a smile playing on your lips. Turning to Jooyeon, you said softly, “I really like spending time with you. You make my brain feel all fizzy, like I’ve had too much caffeine, but in a really good way.”
To your surprise, he chuckled lightly and replied, “Okay, so, I don’t usually say stuff like this, but...whenever I’m with you, it’s like my brain gets all tangled up in butterflies and excitement. I really like spending time with you, too.”
꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! @joosbasschick (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)
🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!
☔️ BLUE LEMONADE ( newjeans )
❛ A chance meeting over a blue lemonade at a coffee shop sparks an awkward crush, culminating in a rainy-day confession that transforms your timid connection into the start of something new as you walk to school together.
𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐦 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 22 mins
꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Say hello to my very first girl group request (made by the lovely @dgybbvrcsacgswtcbkyv)! And honestly my first published girl group piece in general! Hopefully more will be posted soon! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: High School AU, Strangers-to-Crushes, Y/N works at a coffee shop in the mornings before school, Hanni is the school's popular girl, they're both painfully awkward and a little dorky, Y/N gets ghosted for two days, Y/N is implied to be a bit taller than Hanni, let me know if I missed anything!
( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )
The first light of dawn had only just begun to stretch across the city when you found yourself tucked behind the counter of a quaint coffee shop, the scent of freshly ground beans swirling around you. The world outside was still waking, the streets bathed in the soft glow of early morning, with only a few souls braving the chill air. It was a quiet hour, the kind that allowed your thoughts to drift as you worked, hands moving almost on their own as you prepared each steaming cup.
It was in this serene moment that the melodic voice of Hanni Pham cut through the stillness, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. "Aren’t you from my school?" she asked, her tone curious yet soft, as if the question itself carried the weight of familiarity.
Startled, you looked up, your heart skipping a beat as you met her gaze. There she stood, the popular girl everyone knew, her presence commanding the small space. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her face, and her eyes, bright and inquisitive, were fixed on you.
You had always admired Hanni from afar, her warmth and kindness setting her apart from the rest, but in this unexpected encounter, you couldn’t help but brace yourself for the worst. The echoes of cruel laughter from your peers lingered in your mind, and despite knowing that Hanni wasn’t like the others, a part of you feared that she might still find a way to mock you, just as so many others had done before.
Yet, as you stood there, words caught in your throat, you realized that the girl before you seemed genuinely interested, her expression free of malice. There was no hint of the cruelty you had grown accustomed to; only the simple, honest curiosity of someone who recognized you and wished to connect.
You watch her through the veil of your lashes, barely daring to breathe as you hum in response to her question. The gentle sound of your confirmation seems to light up Hanni’s face, and you find yourself captivated by the way her smile widens, a warmth blooming in her eyes that seems to chase away the lingering shadows of the early morning.
“That’s so cool,” she murmurs, her voice soft and almost reverent as she takes in the cozy atmosphere of the café. The sincerity in her words takes you by surprise, and before you can stop it, a faint blush rises to your cheeks, your heart fluttering in a way that’s both unfamiliar and strangely comforting.
Gathering the courage to speak, you mumble, “What can I get you?” The words are barely above a whisper, your anxiety weaving them into a quiet melody that seems to float between you. Yet, despite your hushed tone, Hanni hears you, her gaze shifting to the menu hanging above you as she ponders her choice.
Her cheeks puff out slightly as she thinks, a gesture so endearing that it momentarily distracts you from your own nerves. You can’t help but notice the way her fingers fidget with the straps of her backpack, a subtle sign of her own anxiety. Somehow, seeing this small vulnerability in her makes you feel a little more at ease, as if you’re not the only one grappling with uncertainty in this unexpected moment.
“I’d like a lemon poppy seed muffin,” Hanni finally decides, her voice breaking the quiet. You quickly enter her order into the register, your fingers moving almost automatically as you try to steady your racing thoughts. Just as you’re about to hand her the receipt, she speaks again, her next question catching you off guard.
“What cold drink would be good with the muffin? There are so many options here that I wouldn’t know where to even start,” she admits with a light laugh, her eyes meeting yours once more.
The question hangs in the air, and for a moment, you’re at a loss for words. But then, you realize she’s genuinely seeking your opinion, and the thought fills you with a quiet sense of responsibility, as though this small decision is more important than it seems.
You take a moment to consider her question, the weight of her expectant gaze making your heart flutter. After a brief pause, you finally gather the courage to speak, your voice soft but sincere. “Well, I personally am a fan of the blue lemonades we have here. It’d pair well with the muffin.”
The morning light seems to dance in Hanni’s gentle eyes as she listens, her smile widening with a warmth that feels like the sun’s first embrace. She nods, her decision made with an easy grace that makes your chest tighten in the best possible way. “Well, then please add a blue lemonade to my order,” she says, her tone filled with a sweetness that lingers in the air like the scent of freshly baked pastries.
You nod, feeling a sense of quiet satisfaction as you prepare her drink, the task becoming almost meditative under the soft glow of her attention. The way she watches you, so trusting and kind, makes you want to do everything just right, to ensure that her experience is as lovely as she is.
When you finally hand her the cool, vibrant blue lemonade, the smile that spreads across her face as she takes the first sip is nothing short of enchanting. There’s a delightful hum that escapes her lips, a sound of pure contentment that resonates in the small space between you, and it’s all you can do to keep your composure.
Even as you clock out and begin your walk toward school, the memory of that moment clings to you like a cherished melody. You can still see her, bathed in the soft morning light, savoring the drink you had carefully prepared. The image of her satisfied smile and the gentle hum of approval replay over and over in your mind, a loop of warmth and wonder.
As you walk, you can’t help but marvel at how someone could possess such an infectious gentleness, a quality that seemed to radiate from her in waves, touching everything around her with its light. It leaves you pondering the possibilities of what it would be like to know her better, to be in the presence of someone who carries such precious warmth within them.
Throughout the day, you caught fleeting glimpses of Hanni as she navigated the bustling corridors of the school, her presence commanding attention without effort. She moved with a graceful ease, surrounded by the usual throngs of admirers and friends, her laughter a melodic thread that wove through the cacophony of voices. It was nothing out of the ordinary—just Hanni being the bright, beloved figure she always was.
But then there was that moment. A moment that took you by surprise, slipping into your day like a whispered secret. Seeking refuge from the noise and chaos of school life, you had retreated to your usual hiding spot behind the school building. It was a place technically off-limits, a secluded nook that offered a rare pocket of silence, where you could steal a few precious moments to yourself. Despite the risk to your perfect record, the solace it provided was worth it, and so you continued to visit, cloaked in the comfort of your solitary sanctuary.
Unbeknownst to you, Hanni had spotted you slipping away and, driven by a quiet curiosity, decided to follow. You were completely unaware of her presence until you looked up to find her standing there, her figure framed by the soft light filtering through the trees. She smiled down at you with that same kind, gentle glint in her eyes, the warmth of her expression melting away the edges of your solitude.
Caught off guard, you felt your heart race as you struggled to find something—anything—to say. Your hiding spot, once a bubble of safety and comfort, suddenly felt exposed under her gaze. Yet, there was no judgment in her eyes, only a serene interest that made you feel oddly understood, as if she, too, sought moments of quiet in a world that never seemed to slow down.
As she approached, your thoughts wavered, torn between wanting her to stay and wishing to retreat back into the silence that had been your companion. But before you could resolve the conflict in your heart, the moment was interrupted. Hanni’s name rang out from across the courtyard, one of her friends calling her back to the lively world she inhabited.
For a brief second, Hanni hesitated, her gaze lingering on you. Then, with a timid wave and another one of those radiant smiles that seemed to light up the air around her, she turned and rejoined her friends, leaving you alone once more. But even as she walked away, the flutter in your chest remained, a gentle echo of the unexpected encounter that left you wondering what might have been had she stayed just a little longer.
You had initially assumed that Hanni’s sudden interest in you, sparked by that brief encounter at the coffee shop, would fade into a distant memory by the next day. It seemed impossible that someone like her would remember you, let alone seek you out again. So when the gentle chime of the bell above the door signaled the arrival of a new customer, you had no reason to expect anything out of the ordinary.
But as you turned your attention from the old, well-worn coffee machine to the door, your breath caught in your throat. There she was, Hanni Pham, her presence as radiant as the morning light spilling through the windows. Her bright eyes locked onto yours, and her smile—so warm, so familiar—seemed to light up the entire room. In that instant, you froze, your mind struggling to process the reality of her standing there, just as it had the day before.
For a moment, you could only stare, wide-eyed and motionless, as she patiently waited for you to finish preparing the coffee for the customer before her. Her unwavering gaze held a kindness that made your heart skip a beat, and by the time you moved back behind the cash register, your hands were trembling, betraying the nervous excitement bubbling within you.
“Hi again,” she greeted you with a polite bow, her voice carrying a surprising cheerfulness that contrasted sharply with your own weary state. There was no trace of the exhaustion you felt from the early morning hours, only an infectious energy that made it impossible not to smile in return.
Despite your nerves, a timid smile found its way to your lips as you mirrored her bow, your heart fluttering at the sight of the school’s most popular girl standing before you once more. Hanni’s presence seemed to fill the space around her with a brightness that made everything else fade into the background, and as you met her gaze again, the familiar sensation of your pulse quickening reminded you just how deeply her unexpected attention affected you.
“Hello,” you managed to reply, though your voice was softer than you intended, a reflection of the sudden shyness that had taken hold of you. There was a slight tremor in your words, a delicate vulnerability that felt impossible to hide. “Welcome back. What can I get for you today?”
Hanni’s smile remained unwavering, a warm, gentle curve that seemed to carry the morning’s light within it. You couldn’t help but notice how the early sunrays, filtering through the shop’s windows, wrapped around her figure like an ethereal halo, casting her in a soft, almost angelic glow. It was as if the world conspired to make her appear even more enchanting, and you found yourself momentarily lost in the quiet radiance she brought with her.
“Yesterday’s muffin was delicious,” she began, her voice as sweet as the treats you served. “But my favorite was the blue lemonade you suggested. So I came back to order it again.” Her words were simple, yet the sincerity in her tone made your heart flutter. As she stepped closer to the counter, resting her elbows on the surface and cupping her cheeks with a childlike charm, you felt a warmth spread through your chest.
The proximity between you suddenly felt too close and yet not close enough, creating a dry lump in your throat that you struggled to swallow. Her presence was almost overwhelming, an intoxicating mix of kindness and curiosity that left you feeling exposed. You nodded timidly, your fingers moving to enter her order into the cash register, though your mind was a flurry of emotions that threatened to unravel your calm facade.
The price of her order tumbled out of your mouth in a hurried, tangled mess, your voice betraying the nervousness that had taken root within you. Desperate to escape the intensity of her gaze, you quickly turned your back to her, focusing all your attention on preparing her drink. The simple task became a lifeline, something to anchor you as you navigated the storm of feelings that her presence had stirred up.
Even as you busied yourself with the routine motions of mixing the drink, you couldn’t shake the awareness of Hanni standing just a few feet away. Her energy filled the space between you, a subtle yet undeniable force that pulled at the edges of your composure. You wondered if she could sense the effect she had on you, if she noticed the way your hands trembled slightly as you worked. And as you prepared her blue lemonade, you couldn’t help but feel that this small, shared moment was something more—something significant that neither of you fully understood yet.
Eventually, you mustered the courage to turn and face her, offering a shy smile as you gently placed her order onto the counter. Hanni hadn’t moved from her spot, still resting her elbows on the counter, her face delicately cradled in her hands. There was a peculiar sense of intrigue in her gaze, a quiet curiosity that sent your heart into a sudden, uneven rhythm. The way she watched you, as if you were the most fascinating thing in the room, made it nearly impossible to meet her eyes.
With a polite bow, you expressed your gratitude for her purchase, though your voice felt small under the weight of her attention. But Hanni didn’t move, her fingers tightening slightly around the paper bag that held her breakfast, a subtle sign of nervousness that mirrored your own. You tried to focus on anything else, but the magnetic pull of her presence was inescapable.
As the silence stretched between you, curiosity finally got the better of you, and you hesitantly looked up, wondering if there was something more she wanted. But the sight that greeted you left you breathless—a soft gasp escaping your lips as your eyes fell on the small daisy held delicately in her free hand. The sight of it was unexpected, and yet it felt like a small, precious gift, laden with unspoken meaning.
Hanni’s cheeks were tinged with a delightful shade of crimson, her flustered expression revealing a vulnerability that only endeared her to you more. There was something so sincere, so utterly charming about the way she stood there, clearly uncertain but still daring enough to offer this simple token.
Before you could find the words to respond, Hanni quickly placed the daisy on the counter, her movements rushed and clumsy, as if she were caught in a whirlwind of emotions. And just as swiftly as she’d offered the flower, she turned and hurried out of the store, her departure leaving you standing there in a daze, the tiny daisy resting between you as the only evidence of the moment you’d just shared.
As you stared at the delicate flower, a smile slowly spread across your face, the warmth of the encounter lingering long after Hanni had gone. There was a quiet magic in that brief exchange, something that left your heart fluttering with possibilities you hadn’t dared to imagine before.
The delicate petals of the daisy, left thoughtfully on the counter, held your gaze as you turned it over in your fingers. It seemed to have been plucked from someone's garden, its simplicity making the gesture all the more touching. A warmth spread through your chest, swelling your heart with a mix of surprise and quiet joy. You couldn't help but giggle softly, the sound escaping as you replayed the moment in your mind—the timid way Hanni had offered the flower, her usual composure replaced by an endearing awkwardness.
It felt almost surreal to think of Hanni Pham, the girl admired by so many, standing before you in such a flustered state. At school, she was always the picture of confidence, effortlessly navigating the throngs of students who adored her. Yet here she was, reduced to nervousness by something as simple as a daisy. The contrast was striking, and it made the encounter feel all the more intimate, like you had glimpsed a side of her that few others ever saw.
As your shift came to an end, you reluctantly changed into your school uniform, your thoughts still lingering on the unexpected exchange. Carefully, you slipped the daisy into the front pocket of your shirt, feeling its gentle weight against your heart. The thought of seeing Hanni again at school filled you with a mix of anticipation and hope. Perhaps she would notice the flower in your pocket, and understand just how much you appreciated her sweet, unspoken message.
But as the day wore on and you wandered the familiar hallways, your eyes scanning the crowds, a sense of disappointment began to creep in. No matter where you looked, Hanni was nowhere to be found. The absence of her bright smile and warm presence left you feeling strangely empty, as if a small but significant part of your day was missing. And as the hours passed, you couldn't help but wonder if the moment you'd shared had meant as much to her as it had to you, or if it had simply been a fleeting gesture, lost in the flow of time.
Two days had slipped by since Hanni Pham last stepped into the cozy coffee shop where you worked, and though she had only visited twice before, her absence was keenly felt. A quiet sense of disappointment settled over you, mingled with confusion at the sudden shift between you. What had changed? Had you somehow messed up her lemonade in your nervousness the last time she was there? The thought nagged at you, as did the unsettling possibility that her visits had been part of some cruel joke—a way for her and her friends to laugh at your awkwardness.
Yet, despite these doubts, the daisy she left behind held your skepticism at bay. It was a simple, delicate thing, but it had spoken volumes—a gesture that seemed too genuine to be part of any prank. The memory of that moment, her flustered expression and the way she had hurried out of the shop, kept replaying in your mind, offering a glimmer of hope amidst your uncertainty. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to her visits than met the eye.
Since then, you had crossed paths with Hanni a few times, though each encounter was more awkward than the last. Every time your eyes met across the school grounds, a flush would creep up her cheeks, and she would quickly avert her gaze before hurrying off, leaving you standing there with a mix of bewilderment and curiosity. It was as if the daisy had created an invisible thread between you, a connection that neither of you fully understood yet couldn’t ignore. And as the days passed, you couldn’t help but wonder what had really changed, and whether that fragile thread would ever be strengthened—or if it would simply unravel, leaving you with nothing but the memory of a fleeting smile and a flower wilting in your pocket.
You found yourself staring through the large windows of the coffee shop, eyes narrowed at the relentless downpour outside. The rain fell in heavy sheets, turning the world beyond the glass into a blur of gray and silver. The day had begun with a slight humidity hanging in the air, a remnant of the previous night's showers. You'd assumed that as the hours passed, the weather would warm, and the clouds would part. Yet here you were, watching as the rain refused to let up, silently cursing yourself for not bringing an umbrella—just in case.
Frustration simmered within you as you glanced toward your sleepy boss, who was slowly shuffling through receipts at the counter. Hope flickered briefly as you approached him, thinking perhaps he might have a spare umbrella stashed away somewhere—something to shield you from the impending drenching on your walk to school. But when he looked up at you with a pitiful expression, his lips forming a small, regretful frown, your heart sank. The unspoken words hung between you: there was no umbrella, no shelter from the storm.
The realization settled over you like a damp fog, and your shoulders slumped in resignation. You would be forced to face the harsh rain, its cold fingers reaching for you the moment you stepped outside. The thought of trudging through the downpour, schoolbag clutched protectively to your chest, sent a wave of irritation coursing through you. Yet, beneath that frustration, a quiet resolve began to form. You could handle a little rain, even if it meant arriving at school soaked to the bone. The day, after all, had to go on, and so would you—even if it meant battling the elements on your own.
Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the discomfort awaiting you—a day where your clothes would cling to you like a second skin, soaked through with rainwater. The thought of spending hours in a wet uniform, cold and miserable, while enduring the stares of your classmates made your stomach twist with dread. There was no escaping it now, though, and no one to blame but yourself for not being wise enough to carry an umbrella, despite the unpredictable weather.
As you stepped out onto the slick sidewalk, the rain assaulted you immediately, each droplet stinging like a million tiny needles against your skin. You broke into a brisk jog, your feet splashing through puddles as you hurried toward the school. The dark clouds above loomed ominously, their wrath evident in the relentless downpour that showed no signs of relenting.
Clutching your backpack tightly to your chest, you bowed your head low in a futile attempt to shield your belongings from the soaking rain. The chill of the wet fabric seeped through your uniform, clinging to your body uncomfortably, making every movement a reminder of your unfortunate situation. With each step, the wetness seeped deeper, the cold tightening its grip on you as you pushed forward, determined to reach the relative shelter of the school as quickly as possible.
A torrent of curses swirled in your mind as you hurried through the relentless downpour, your drenched hair constantly slipping into your eyes, obstructing your vision. Each time you swiped it away, the rain would only force it back, a ceaseless battle that left you increasingly frustrated. Your breath came in ragged, exhausted pants, and with each step, a wave of pure misery washed over you as you realized just how much further you still had to go before reaching the safety of your school. The thought alone was enough to make your heart sink even deeper into despair.
Then, as if the universe had decided to offer you a sliver of mercy, you heard a voice—a familiar one—shout your name from behind. Startled, you nearly stumbled, your momentum causing you to skid to a halt as you spun around, searching for the source of the call. You didn't know who it could be, but you certainly hadn't expected to see Hanni Pham, completely dry under the shelter of a bright blue umbrella, sprinting toward you with surprising speed.
Her cheeks were flushed, though you quickly rationalized that it must have been from her running. You stood there, drenched and slightly bewildered, as she closed the distance between you, your heart racing—not just from the physical exertion but from the unexpected sight of her. Hesitantly, you waited, unsure of what to expect, as she caught up to you, her presence like a beacon of unexpected warmth in the cold, miserable rain.
Hanni reached out clumsily, her hand gripping your shoulder as she stumbled, nearly colliding with you in her haste to stop. She barely managed to avoid knocking you over, her breath coming in short, labored gasps as she tried to regain her balance. The umbrella she held hovered above the two of you, offering a small but much-needed refuge from the relentless rain. You couldn’t help but release a relieved sigh, though you had to hunch down slightly to fit under the cover, given her shorter stature. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, you tried your best to ignore the maddening flutter of your heart caused by her unexpected kindness.
While you were grateful for her sudden appearance, a mild irritation simmered beneath the surface. It had been two days since Hanni had seemingly vanished from your life after being so unexpectedly kind toward you. And now, here she was, as if nothing had happened. To you, it didn’t matter that, according to the unspoken rules of your high school’s social hierarchy, someone as beloved and popular as Hanni Pham wasn’t supposed to be seen interacting with someone like you, someone considered so low on that very same ladder. You were well aware of the invisible barriers meant to keep your worlds apart, but in that moment, none of it mattered.
What did matter was the fact that Hanni had, of her own volition, turned your plain and awkward interactions into something else when she plucked a daisy and left it for you at the coffee shop, her cheeks ablaze with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn’t fair for her to initiate such a change and then leave you hanging, avoiding you as if nothing had happened. As Hanni finally straightened her posture, catching her breath and seemingly ready to speak, she was met with your carefully guarded but unmistakably annoyed expression. You regarded her with a mix of curiosity and frustration, waiting for the explanation you felt you deserved.
Despite the chilly edge in your gaze, Hanni made an effort to appear nonchalant. Her laughter, though light, betrayed a tremor of nervousness as she twirled the ends of her slightly damp hair around her finger. Even in your state of irritation, you found yourself inexplicably charmed by the sight of her. Her eyes, despite the oppressive gray clouds and relentless rain, sparkled with a warmth reminiscent of the gentle morning sun that would occasionally filter through the coffee shop's windows, casting a soft, inviting glow.
You maintain your composure, raising a single eyebrow at her as she fumbles to address the situation. “Uh, it’s a good thing I spotted you and had my umbrella,” she murmured, her voice nearly swallowed by the cacophony of rain. The casualness in her tone only served to heighten your irritation. It was clear she wanted to gloss over the fact that she had vanished for two days without a word, and you were determined not to let her do so.
With a hint of measured annoyance, you replied, “It’s good to see you again, Hanni.”
Her reaction was immediate—an almost imperceptible wince at the subtle bite in your voice. For the first time since her transfer to your school, you saw her frown, and the sight of it struck you with a pang of guilt. The weight of knowing you were the cause of that rare expression was almost suffocating. Yet, despite the tug of empathy in your chest, you knew you had to stand firm. You weren’t someone to be manipulated or dismissed, and you refused to be treated as a mere pawn in whatever game she might have been playing.
"I noticed you kept the flower I gave you in your front pocket all day," she began softly, her gaze fixed on the wet pavement as if seeking comfort in its familiarity. "It looked really nice." Her words were barely above a whisper, and you responded with a half-hearted hum, trying to ignore the rapid fluttering of your heart. Hanni let out a quiet, defeated sigh as she finally summoned the courage to meet your unyielding gaze. "Look, I panicked, okay?"
Her sudden confession caught you off guard, your eyes widening in surprise as your lips parted slightly. A deep crimson blush crept up her cheeks, but despite the embarrassment, she held her gaze steady, even as her hands trembled while keeping the umbrella positioned over both of you, shielding you from the relentless downpour. "You’ll probably think I’m some crazy stalker, but here goes: I’ve had this silly little crush on you for the past year, and it all started one Saturday while you were working. I just stood there, watching you do your thing. You have this kind and soft smile that really caught my attention. And I promise, I wasn’t following you or anything, but after that, I just kept seeing you everywhere. You’re so quiet, and I really wanted to get closer to you.
"One day, I decided I’d try sitting with you at lunch, but you kept disappearing somewhere, and I could never find you. So, I kind of gave up for a while. Then, the other day, I forgot to eat breakfast and ended up stopping by your shop, not even knowing you worked there in the mornings. And, well, the next day, I stupidly gave you that flower out of nowhere, and then I just got really embarrassed. I couldn’t look at you after that because I was so sure you thought I was some weirdo or something. And maybe I was because I kept watching you from afar, hiding, and I noticed you were looking for me in all the places I usually hung out. But I still couldn’t bring myself to come out. Until today."
Hanni inhaled deeply as she concluded her startling confession, her chest rising and falling with the weight of words she had kept bottled up for so long. It dawned on you that she hadn’t taken a single breath as she rambled on, pouring out her heart without pause. You stood there, stunned, as her words echoed in your mind, causing a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts to spiral within you.
You struggled to make sense of it all, your mind racing back through the year’s memories, searching for any sign that might have hinted at her feelings. But try as you might, you couldn’t recall a single instance where Hanni had paid you any mind. All this time, you had believed you were invisible to her, just another face in the crowd, irrelevant in the bright, popular world she inhabited. The realization that you had been wrong, that she had noticed you all along, was a revelation you never expected—certainly not now, and certainly not like this.
Of course, you had always found Hanni intriguing. There was something about her that drew your gaze whenever she was near, a quiet magnetism that you could never fully explain. But you had kept your distance, never daring to imagine that your paths would ever truly cross. It was safer that way, you thought—to admire her from afar, to keep her at the edges of your thoughts, a fleeting presence that you could easily dismiss. That was, until she walked into the coffee shop where you worked for the first time, shattering the careful distance you had maintained.
You couldn't help but feel a wave of fondness wash over you as you observed Hanni, her wide eyes filled with anticipation, brows furrowed in a mix of worry and hope. The frown that lingered on her lips tugged at your heartstrings, and despite the frustration you’d felt moments ago, your resolve began to crumble. Slowly, a warm smile spread across your face, softening the tension that had hung between you.
“You’re so silly, you know that?” you teased, letting out a light giggle as you playfully poked her cheek. The irritation you’d held onto melted away, replaced by the warmth of the moment.
Hanni let out a sigh of relief, her own giggle bubbling up to join yours. The sound was contagious, and you found yourself laughing along with her, the earlier awkwardness dissolving into the gentle rhythm of your shared laughter.
“Let’s walk to school together, yeah?” you asked, your voice tender and inviting. You could hardly contain the surge of affection that welled up inside you when Hanni’s entire face lit up in response. Her eyes sparkled with a happiness that was impossible to miss, and she nodded vigorously, her excitement palpable.
Without another word, the two of you turned to walk side by side, the rain now a mere backdrop to the warmth that blossomed between you. For the first time, you found yourselves heading to school together, a quiet sense of joy settling into the space you shared.
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pairing: seungmin x gender neutral reader
content warnings: hurt/comfort, reader has a fear of thunderstorms, reader goes nonverbal
rating: e (for everyone)
summary: seungmin helps you get through a thunderstorm by showering you with tender love and singing to you.
🕯️ volcano — seungmin & han (2 kids’ show)
A myriad of candles lit up the bedroom you’ve shared with your lover for a few years, casting its yellow glow over the sheltered space while the world outside took on the wrath of the thunderous storm that has carried on for the past several hours. Your soft snores were the only sounds heard apart from the violent pattering of the rain against the windows and the occasional boom of thunder, your head rested on Seungmin’s chest as you’d finally slept.
The two of you had just settled on the couch to watch a movie together when it first started raining, a small detail you’d taken note of yet paid no mind to at first. Although as the weather worsened, so did your anxiety. Seungmin was well aware of the person you became whenever the first strike of lightning occurred – almost as though you had been replaced before his very eyes as your muscles tensed and your eyes clouded with fear. He’d tried to comfort you as soon as he knew what would come, though nothing can really prevent you from panicking, and this was a fact that aggrieved him deeply since he would do anything to make you smile once again although this was beyond his power.
When the power went out as a result of the storm, the trembling and whimpering began. Seungmin was not allowed to leave your side for even a second as you gripped the hem of his shirt. And so he gently took your hand and guided you towards the hallway closet where you stored the innumerable amounts of candles you liked buying, and then took you with him towards the kitchen to find a lighter. Throughout the entire process, you could hear him murmuring sweet little nothings as a form of encouragement while moving at the pace you’d set. He sat you on your bed, and immediately began lighting as many candles as he could, creating as much light as he could before he settled beside you. Arms pulling you into his comforting embrace, your back pressed to his chest as he whispered about how brave you were being. You didn’t think so, since you felt a little ridiculous being so afraid of something so silly at your age, but the sincerity in his voice made you feel validated.
“I’m sorry,” you whimpered after jumping at a particularly loud crack of thunder. “This is so stupid, and we were having such a nice time before all of this.”
Seungmin pressed a tender kiss to the back of your head, settling his chin on top of your head as his thumb rubbed gentle circles on your shoulder. “Sorry for what? There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
You couldn’t help but pout slightly, sitting up so you could look at him. He merely chuckled at the sight, hand reaching up to push a strand of hair away from your face and you could see the tiny flames from the candles reflected in his eyes. It took everything in you to not melt into his touch, your heart immediately steadying. Love was engraved in every touch, every word and you adored it. You adored him in a way you couldn’t even begin to describe. “I’m sorry you’re dating someone with childish fears.”
His expression suddenly turned serious as he furrowed his brows and frowned up at you. “It’s not childish at all, what are you talking about? I don’t want to hear any self-pitying from you, I want you to know that you’re being very brave, and I love that about you.”
He looked so stern you couldn’t help but smile a little bit, rolling your eyes playfully. But as you glanced at him again, you could see the expectant expression on his face as he waited for you to say the same words he always forced you to say in moments like these. So you sighed, moving around on the bed so that you could rest your head on his chest. However, right as you opened your mouth another thunder seemed to shake the room, which caused you to scream in surprise instead. His arms immediately wrapped themselves around your trembling body, hands squeezing whatever he could grab as a way to make sure you knew he was there with you.
With your eyes squeezed shut, you mumbled over and over again: “I’m being brave right now. The storm can’t touch me. I’m safe with Seungmin. I’m being brave right now. The storm can’t touch me. I’m safe with Seungmin. I’m being so brave right now, and Seungmin is proud of me.”
Seungmin’s lips pressed against your hair once again as he settled into a more comfortable position from underneath you. “I am so, so proud of my baby right now.”
Although the rain had shown signs of slowing down over the past hour, it seemed to intensify now, and your body began trembling once more. Seungmin was at a loss right now, he couldn’t think of anything else to say or do while the two of you rode out the storm. It wasn’t the first time that he’d had to help you through something like this, and he was always so willing to calm your mind and settle your heart each and every time; though it always seemed as though he would run out of things to do or say as the storms carried on. As you balled up his shirt into your shaking fists, he cleared his throat.
“You know,” he began, voice soft yet loud enough to be heard over the noise. “Hannie and Chan have been working on a song together. It made me think of you.”
This piqued your interest, releasing a shuddering breath as you momentarily looked up to let him know you’ve heard him since your voice seemed to have stopped working. He understood immediately as his eyes remained fixated on the dancing flames of the candles he’d placed in front of your bedroom television.
“You know Hannie’s always been good with words.” Seungmin smiled slightly at the thought, his fingers finding their way to your hair as he played with it. “Would you like to hear it?”
Without hesitation, you reach over his lower torso to squeeze his hip. Another crack of thunder was heard, and you jumped.
“I’ll protect you, it’s okay to hurt,” he began, your eyes shutting as his melodic voice rang through the air. “I’ll embrace the wounds you shed. To me, you’re already a sin…”
A soft smile tugged on your lips, your heart and breathing steadied at last, your muscles relaxing. Seungmin could feel the weight of your body change almost immediately as he continued to sing, and his heart soared at the realization of the effect he had on you. “...You were so warm when you hugged me tight. I guess I teared up for a moment, because it was the first time…”
Anything outside of this embrace seemed to fade away at your lover’s soulful singing, the warmth of his body and his fingertips that traced swirly figures on your skin bringing a sense of peace you didn’t expect. You sighed in content.
“...You can burst into flames, you can wound me next to you if you like, I can be anything…”
As the first of your snores were heard, Seungmin finally relaxed completely. You’ve endured another stormy night, and his own heart warmed at the sight of your sleeping figure. He didn’t stop singing, though, determined to finish the song at this point – the song that had reminded him of you the first time he read the lyrics, the song he’d unintentionally associated with you and he wasn’t the least bit sorry about it.
“...you are my volcano.”
word count: 1.2k 🕯️ posted: 12 • 02 • 2023
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최태양──CHOI TAEYANG. ( theo )
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김종섭──KIM JONGSEOB. ( jongseob )
🫧─────UNDER THE SUNSET GLOW | 1.6K — ONE-SHOT | in which you undergo a profoundly personal transformation with the support of your doting boyfriend, jongseob. (TRANS BOY READER) REQUESTED
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hi hi !! ^-^
so my idea for the game isnt too extensive, but i think you would totally nail it, so: enemies to lovers with fashion designer!reader x model!hyunjin👀 him being cocky and overly confident and the reader being a bit too serious and mature, just imagine the tension between them at every single rehearsal and backstage every show...
anyway, im not sure if this is something you’d write but with your style of writing i think this could come out really cool >.< let me know what you think !!
sending lots of love, take care !!<3
Merin, your mind is so beautiful because !!! the potential this idea has??? I am 100000% adding this to my WIP list and will be posting as soon as I have it done. This would also be so cute too because you mentioned the reader being a little too serious and mature MEANWHILE the last 2 Kids’ Show (Hyunjin & Changbin) they really went into how Hyunjin is anything BUT serious and how he does what he wants when he feels like it, and how he’s easily bored. I can just imagine the reader being SO frustrated with him. It’s lowkey giving enemies to lovers too and I’m so here for it. I’m happy I read this right before setting my stuff on airplane mode for the next 13 hours because now (hopefully) I have the time to really sit down and write as much as I’ve been wanting to. Again, THANK YOU💕
Reblog and let your followers ask!
🗣️Talk about your favourite WIP
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Can you write a fic for Hyein telling her how beautiful she is. I saw someone say she called herself ugly on a live and I feel so bad that she doesn't see how drop dead gorg she is
Hey! Thank you for the request! It’s absolutely ridiculous that she thinks she’s ugly when she’s quite literally anything but. She’s so beautiful and she deserves to feel like so, and I hope this piece portrays that! ── ( 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 )
──── *ੈ♡⸝⸝ THROUGH MY EYES
( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 2.9k
i loved everything about this. each member’s story was so sweet and comforting. i really appreciated you including the different sides to audhd too. most representation of anyone with autism tend to be the monotone, emotionless, expressionless type of characters. it was such a relief and comfort to find the reader be so similar to me.
and thank you so much for junhan’s story. it was exactly what i needed. and i will definitely be rereading it many times during this next week as i try to transition into life back home.
ps. i actually just arrived home not too long ago. thank you for your concerns and support🥰
- 🍀
I’m so happy my ideas translated well! But yes, every time I get excited to have AuDHD representation, it immediately turns into disappointment for those exact reasons. I’m genuinely so tired of this stereotype that people have that we’re some emotionless, selfish brats when that’s usually not the case! Just because our way of expressing ourselves is a little different doesn’t mean that we’re emotionally immature 😤 I have autism and I have ADHD, but I also feel very deeply.
I thought of you the whole time I was writing Junhan’s piece 🫶 Thinking about the future as if it was a romance movie or story is a technique I use a lot when I’m about to face a big change in my life, so I hoped it’d work for you as well. There’s something so beautiful about romanticizing your life as a way to soothe yourself, I think, and it more often than not helps me calm down before having a panic attack.
I’m glad you’ve arrived safely! This means that you’re at the unpacking part of moving, you’re almost done!
‧₊° pairing. han jisung x idol!fem!reader
‧₊° content warnings. han deals with a lot of anxiety and depression. reader has fibromyalgia. constant mention of being in pain. love-making. cussing. lots of angst. more to be added.
‧₊° rating. 18+
‧₊° summary. in which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms.
EDIT: It’s in progress! Click on the title to read!
‧₊° pairing. bisexual!lee felix x male!reader
‧₊° content warnings. abuse, violence, homophobia conversion therapy, angst, mlm relationship, drug use (nothing too heavy, drinking, running away, smut, anal sex, blow job, rimming, fingering, semi-public sex
‧₊° rating. 18+
‧₊° summary. humanity was simply not made to reach the glorious sky without needing to return to the ground, this is a simple fact that both felix and y/n needed to learn one way or another. still, when each glance gets you drunk with a feeling you’d never quite experienced before, you can’t help but risk everything for his affection.
‧₊° pairing. student!seungmin x student!fem!reader
‧₊° content warnings. brutal attack and kidnapping. death is mentioned a lot in different ways. neglectful parent. plot twist.
‧₊° rating: 16+
‧₊° summary. after her mother gets suddenly kidnapped right before her eyes, and her father didn’t seem to care enough, y/n embarks on a mission to save her mother with a strange boy from school to help along the journey.
reblog to spread the word!
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