Tuck Your Innocence Goodnight

hi~ would love to request from the prompt list!!

46 + 49 with bangchan seems interesting :D

hihi, sorry for the delay lol TT producer!chan now joins the fic library alongside producer!jisung. i felt like writing something with most of skz bc i think it makes it more fun :] here you gooooo

electrifying - bang chan

pairing: bang chan x producer!reader

summary: a late night with chan in the studio leads to a little more.

genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort, kind of crack tbh, most of skz is in this fic, hyunlix honourable mention, mutual pining

a/n: producer chan save me. divider by @veonaa

⛓️ prompts: 46. "What if I told you I knew?" / 49. "I have a confession to make."

skz prompt list | skz masterlist

"Try one more time," you suggest quietly. "Just the last two lines then we'll move to the pre-chorus."

Minho nods from the recording booth, slipping one headphone back over his ear. He nails it and you replay back the recording, looking to Chan to verify that it's okay.

He's writing down a couple of notes on his lyric sheet, a thin pencil held between his fingers. Looking up, he nods, before his gaze flits to yours and then back again to Minho, who is waiting quietly in the recording booth. You compliment him and give him a sunny smile as he exits the booth.

The process continues with most of the other members; Jeongin and Changbin have already finished recording their parts since they came in early. Seungmin's part takes a little longer, so you and Chan do him next, trying to work productively.

The night ends up running quite late; most of the boys are beginning to get bored, and Chan had initially suggested a group meeting at the end of the session, but after several antics begin to disrupt the process, he dismisses them with a weary sigh.

Hyunjin practically flies out the door, Felix following him with a smile to the dance studio, and the other boys begin to dissipate, thanking you quietly before heading home for the night.

You try not to laugh as you save Seungmin's recording on a file. "Thank you, Seungminnie. You can go."

He nods and thanks you politely before turning to leave. Now it's just you and Chan, who has yet to record his lines. Unlike most of the other boys, Chan's part takes unusually long. He fixes his voice on one line but messes it up on another, dragging out certain words and furrowing his brow.

"Chan, you okay? We can call it a night if you want."

He looks at you through the glass, seemingly surprised. "Yeah, I'm alright, why?"

You set your headphones down. "It's just that it's quite late, and you might do better tomorrow with some rest? You look exhausted."

Chan sighs and nods. Whatever is on his mind, it's clearly bothering him, and you glance sideways at him as he sits back down next to you at the recording table. All is silent as both of you relapse into editing the recordings at your own individual paces.

But you're not so much focusing on the recordings as focusing on your fellow producer. You fight not to look across at him, knowing it'll be obvious, and turn yourself a little away from him in order to not be distracted. You do it subtly, so that Chan doesn't notice, and it works a trick, because half an hour passes and you've almost finished editing the recordings and checking the backing track.

Neither of you have said a word, a comforting silence descending over the studio. Maybe because it's night time and the usual noises from outside the door are beginning to quiet, or maybe it's because Chan is here, bringing with him a sort of safe serenity that you only really feel when he's around.

You lean back in your chair and make to grab a notebook from behind you on the lower table, sneaking a glance at Chan in the process. All black clothes as per usual, his leather jacket slipping off his shoulder a little as he hunches over the desk. His hair is curly and un-styled, a little fluffy under his black cap. He's murmuring to himself as he scrubs a hand across his eyes, smudging a length of pencil graphite across his cheek in the process.

Without turning, he speaks. “You know, Y/n… I’ve been thinking. What if I told you I knew?"

You frown, snapping out of your daze, looking at him slightly confused. “Knew what?”

Chan turns, and there's a gentle smile, almost a smirk painted across his mouth. The world holds its breath and suddenly you find that nothing else matters. Not right now.

He leans a little closer, resting an elbow on the desk. “Knew that you like me. That you’ve liked me for a while now.”

You freeze for a second, tidal waves of reality crashing down on you at his words. Your cheeks flood with colour. “W-What? How—how could you possibly know that?”

Chan chuckles, but there’s a tenderness in it that makes your heart beat a little faster.

He shrugs. “I’ve noticed the little things. The way you smile at me when you think I’m not looking. The way you get quiet when I tease you. I’m not blind, you know."

The warmth in his voice makes your crush’s face turn bright red (more so than it already is), and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. The air between you feels charged, filled with unspoken feelings. Chan reaches over and gently brushes his thumb against your hand.

The touch is electrifying.

His voice is soft. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Also, while we're on this topic, I’ve got a confession to make.”

You looks up at him, heart pounding, as he speaks again, the weight of his words suddenly heavier than expected.

Chan speaks slowly, looking into your eyes. “I like you too. A lot. And I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you without messing things up. You know, considering all of this.” He waves his hands vaguely in the air, but you know what he means.

The confession hangs in the air, and for a long moment, neither of you say anything. But the silence is comfortable like before, like everything both of you have wanted to say has finally found its way out. Chan’s hand stays gently resting against yours, a comforting yet giddy warmth, and you feel your heart flutter at the sight of his hand swallowing yours.

You smile shyly at him. “You really knew?”

Chan laughs quietly, not unkindly. “Yeah. I think I’ve known for a while now."

There’s a pause, then both of you break into shy smiles, both realizing that the thing you were both too nervous to say has finally been said. It's clear neither of you know how to continue, as you're too shocked to process what has apparently just happened, and it seems Chan hasn't planned this far either, his energy simply concentrated on confessing.

You both sit and gaze at each other, mouths opening a little and then hesitating, wondering if the other will say something. But neither of you do, until the door flies open with a bang.

Hyunjin and Felix are standing in the doorway, sweating and disheveled from a nightly dance practice. Seeing how they flew out of the studio earlier, you see no foreseeable reason why they would have returned, until you see Hyunjin's phone on the low table.

"Sorry," Hyunjin drawls, panting. "Forgot my phone-"

He cuts himself off and his jaw drops, matching Felix's. The looks on their faces are comical and you would laugh if you weren't suddenly so flustered.

Felix quickly stumbles past Hyunjin and grabs his friend's phone off the table, shooting Chan a not-so-subtle smirk as he bows hurriedly.

"Sorry for interrupting!" Hyunjin calls, cackling before turning away, a giggling Felix at his side.

The door slams shut before either of you can process, hands jerked back from each other as they'd entered and frozen in the air.

The situation is suddenly so ridiculous that you burst into unexpected laughter. You can see Hyunjin and Felix through the frosted glass of the studio door, hunched over and whispering to each other through hushed snickering and giggling.

Chan groans and drops his head into his hands.

a/n: i love the purple theme, suits channie so much

Cute cakes appreciation post

omgomg can you please write a 9th member fic (chan x f!reader) where they attend the milan show together (the one chan is at rn) 🥹🫶

hihi sorry this took a while to answer >< it's here now tho . i liked this idea so much, i haven't written much fashion event stuff ! maybe i added a little surprise near the end, but you'll just have to see hehe . here you gooo~

fendi - bangchan x female!9th member reader

pairing: bangchan x female 9th member reader

summary: chan asks you to accompany him to the fendi event in milan.

genre: idol!au, 9th member!au, super duper fluffy and cute, sleepy channie, mentions of eating and drinking, swarming from fans, lots of mentions of camera flashes, chan almost falling over (yes that is a warning)

a/n: yuhh i'm so back guys ! div by @elleisdesigning

skz masterlist

Chan who surprises you with the biggest bouquet of your favourite flowers as he hands you the invitation to the Fendi show in Milan. Who flushes as you look up in shock and shyly explains that he wants you to be his plus-one to the event. He lets out an 'oof' as you fly into his arms, almost knocking him over and nodding over and over again to accompany him to Milan. He grins again in relief as you explain that you don't have anything half as fancy to wear and pokes your cheek, telling you that your outfit isn't something you should be worried about, and that he would handle all of it. You're unconvinced but decide to trust him anyway, and coincidentally, later in the day, he asks what your favourite colour is.

Chan who holds your hand all the way to the airport and refuses to let go, even when you're all swarmed by the photographers and fans. His leader-mode kicks in and he protects you from the swarms as you navigate through the airport. His grip is strong, warm, and steady, and he leads you skillfully through the throngs of people pressing in on both of you until you reach the terminal gate. Makes you go first and presses a warm hand to your back as he guides you down the ramp. Refuses to sit down until you've found your seat and then offers to swap places with you so you can have the window seat. He spends about half an hour gazing out at the ground falling away beneath you and then immediately falls asleep, his mouth open and hair endearingly ruffled as the plane vibrates all around you, rising higher and higher in the air.

Chan who wakes up sleepily when the plane lands and accidentally stands up too soon, almost ending up sprawled in the aisle as the plane bumps against the tarmac. He guides you through the mess of cameras and flashes and falls asleep again in the car on the way to the hotel you'll both be staying in. You wake him up and watch him drain a bottle of water as you step out of the car, heading into the lift and up to your shared hotel room. You watch him bustle around the room, making phone calls and arranging food to be delivered, and then nuzzle into his shoulder as he sits down on the bed next to you, coiling an arm around your shoulders as you both watch the city bustling with life from outside the window.

Chan who offers you his hand as he steps out of the car, letting you take his arm as you both make your way inside the stylist's room that's been temporarily set up for the event, and fights a grin as you look around in curiosity and ask what you're doing here. He leads you to a curtain and pulls it back, nodding thankfully at the designer, and jumps when he hears you gasp and then squeal in delight. Your hands trace the beautiful, flowing fabric of the gown and you throw your arms around the leader, not caring who sees. His face is tinged pink as you run over to the mannequin once more and fawn over the dress he's had custom-made for you for the event. It's sparkly and subtle and just the right colour, and you hold back another squeal as you realise, this is why Chan asked your favourite colour a few days earlier. Not that he didn't already know what it was...

Chan who presses a hand gently onto your knee as the car pulls up to the carpet leading into the Fendi event. His gaze is reassuring and a little of the subtle sparkle on your cheeks come away on the curve of his fingers as he brushes a strand of hair off your face, promising that you'll do great. Not that the sparkle on his hands makes a difference; he looks stunning as always, and whispers the same thing back to you as he offers you his arm. You close your eyes briefly against the camera flash and step out of the car, letting him lead you inside. He stays with you and gracefully walks you around, greeting people, introducing you, and mingling with the crowd. As expected, he is a hit; unexpectedly, so are you. You're entirely comfortable in just an hour, and you even receive some lovely compliments on your appearance at the event.

Chan who secretly strokes your hand with a gentle thumb as both of you stand and pose for the cameras; he keeps your intertwined fingers behind the both of you, his smile warm and genuine as photos are snapped endlessly. The subtle, secret yet possessive gesture makes your heart flutter and you fight a laugh as he whispers jokes and comments to you in an attempt to make you smile harder than you are. He succeeds, and the result is a beautiful photo of the both of you on the cover of several fashion articles and websites, who all sing your shared praises, gushing over your outfits and potential chemistry (the members, who have been keeping updated on the event, cheekily start planning your eventual wedding).

Chan who's glad he brought you along; he's never seen his ninth member and secret crush looking so stunning and effortless. He thanks his stars for the rest of the night as he remembers the courage it took to ask you to accompany him to the event. He's never been prouder of you, and later, when the event ends, he takes you out on a walk, both of you licking at ice creams in the warmly-lit streets and talking about the day. His heart is fluttering as he wipes a little of ice cream off your lips and presses his mouth to yours, sweet treats forgotten as you melt immediately into his embrace, relishing the warmth and steady comfort he always manages to exude.

He couldn't be happier.

a/n: i'm thinking of starting a fic taglist, the post for it will be up soon ><

YALL IM SO FUCKING BACK

minty - bf!han jisung x female reader

pairing: han jisung x female reader

summary: when everything bursts into flames, there will always be someone to put it out.

genre: fluff, idol! au, heavy on the angst, panic attack, sensory overload, anger outburst out of frustration, negative thoughts, inferiority complex, feeling left behind. this one is a little sadder, not my usual writing, so read ahead at your own risk.

a/n: kinda having a bad time rn so i wrote this. also my masterlist just deadass stopped working so i have to remake it TT new masterlist will be up soon don't panic guys

You're laying on the floor face-down when Jisung comes home from the company.

He enters your shared bedroom, humming a new unreleased track, and finds you near to the floor-to-ceiling window, curled up in a ball. Your jacket is tossed somewhere behind you and you're not even aware that Jisung is home until he bends down and taps your shoulder.

"Jagi," he says, smiling in greeting.

You don't turn. Your head feels like it's made of lead and you can't seem to find the energy to even twitch a finger. And you feel bad because you know Jisung is tired too, and here you are, ignoring him because you're selfish and lazy and not good enough for anything-

"Y/n," Jisung says again, a little softer.

You do turn your head then. It's not much of a turn, to be honest; more like a slow, sluggish effort to move your head to the right. Your look over your shoulder and he's sitting there, knees to his chest, smiling down at you.

His headphones are slung around his neck as per usual, the headphone cord wrapped loosely around his wrist. His blue hair is flopping attractively into his eyes and the neckline of his band shirt slips a little to the left, revealing a sliver of collarbone.

Some of the skin there is slightly red, and you know it's because he probably worked out his shoulders and torso before coming back home.

You feel even worse at the thought of him working out; why can't you be the same? Why can't you just get up and be productive and multitask and live a good life and be happy like everyone else? Like him? Was that sort of thing not meant for you? Success and friendships and contentment and normalcy?

Because here is Jisung, so many achievements under his belt, so many talents and aspirations and thoughts and dreams, and there you are behind him, struggling to keep up with even the simplest of tasks in your own life.

And it's not just him; lately it feels like everyone else is sprinting ahead, while you're lagging behind, confused. Winded. Out of breath.

Losing energy.

It feels the same even now. Usually making eye contact and being close to Jisung fills you with strength, but today it seems even he can't wash away your thoughts. You wonder how bad it can be if even Jisung, your number one supporter, can't seem to even slightly unclasp the boulder shackles from around your ankles.

And the yet-again nagging thought of always being left behind culminates the peak of your bottled desperation.

And everything is Wrong.

The floor feels rough and uncomfortable all of a sudden, grating against your skin, scratching at the pores, and your clothes are too tight and restricting, digging into the soft curves and peaks of your figure, tightening around you like a python winds about its prey.

Jisung is still sitting there next to you; he must have realised you didn't feel like talking. He's staring out the window, still singing softly to the track, gaze unfocused but content. He understands; he has days like yours too. But right now it feels different, and suddenly you want nothing more than for him to just leave. To just go.

And that thought makes you feel awful.

You feel all hot and irritated like you've been put into an oven on high heat, and you rake a hand through the limp strands of your hair, the tickling flyaways suddenly causing a sudden surge of boiling hot frustration to pour through your veins.

Everything goes up in flames and before you know it, you're shoving Jisung's hand away and storming into the living room, throwing yourself down on the couch and then violently tossing yourself about because even touching the couch feels Wrong too. The leather sticks to your skin and the shuffling sounds are too noisy and sound more like nails being dragged down a chalkboard.

You let out a half-hearted scream and even that feels pathetic. Like you've tried to blow a whistle and all that came out was a sad little wheeze. The noise floats into the air and absorbs into the stillness. You want to scream again but it won't help; no matter how much noise you make, it will never be enough to quiet the wildfires searing across your nerves and seemingly into the core of your brain.

But the flames begin to sizzle, and like all fires do, it begins to die down.

You're left in the smoldering aftermath; the human form of it, anyway, which consists of sobbing like a child face-down in the couch, your body draped uncomfortably across the lounge.

It's almost an hour before Jisung tiptoes into the living room; he peeks over the back of the couch before cautiously moving to sit in front of you, about a metre away. And it's not that he's afraid of your sudden outburst, no, not at all. He knows not to touch you for now, to keep a distance, so as not to trigger you further.

He's silent for a moment; you miserably raise your head, a picture of defeat, eyes puffy and red with tears. You sniff and scrub at your face, wanting to get rid of the Feeling, the one that makes your jaw feel all sour and your head dizzy, the way it always feels after you cry.

Jisung chides you softly, gently reaching out to smooth a singular finger over the irritation you've caused across the delicate skin of your cheekbones. He's testing the water, so when nothing bursts out to bite his hand off, and the temperature seems reasonably cool, he moves just a little closer and gently pats your shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he says softly, almost inaudibly.

"Everything," you sob, the sound causing a terrible racking pain through Jisung's chest. It sounds so hollow, so lonely and desperate.

And yet so filled with hope, but hope that is slowly dying, losing its intensity, like you know in your heart that utilizing it won't really help anything. At least not anymore.

You don't expect Jisung to understand. How could he ever, when the terrible, tumultuous storm of horrible thoughts and feelings in your head is making it hard to understand yourself in the first place?

And you're right. Jisung doesn't understand. He looks bewildered but also empathetic. He looks the way people look when they sort of expect something to happen but it still shocks them when it does.

So he sits, not understanding but also knowing, and strokes your shoulder, keeping the rhythm of it, smooth and constant and flowing, dousing the flames, ever so slowly.

And you can't even try to explain how you feel, or what's wrong, and you can't even find it in yourself to apologise for so violently bursting out at him, but the look in Jisung's eyes tell you that no words are necessary. Not from you anyway.

"I love you," he says quietly after a while, still soft, still a little bit bewildered. But there is no doubt in his words.

And a weak, watery smile manages to tug at the corners of your mouth. At least you think it does; in reality, your face doesn't move an inch, still drawn tensely in rife and despair. But something in your eyes shifts slightly and Jisung knows you well enough to know what that shift means.

The searing flames die down completely, the ash rising and dissipating into a quiet, still, air, and when Jisung draws his hand back, his fingers are stained in still-warm charcoal.

You look at him, still heaving and exhausted; he smiles a tiny bit, like he's not sure whether it might set you off again or make you feel worse. But he does anyway, and the air begins to feel a lot cooler around you as he speaks.

"I brought you something from the company," he whispers, his fingers dancing along the thick seams of the leather couch.

You blink once, slowly, the movement taking a ridiculous amount of energy, which has dwindled to its last stores.

Jisung smiles, almost uncharacteristically shyly, and draws a little rectangular tin out of his dark, worn jeans. He lifts it to your eye level and holds it out on his palm.

On closer inspection, you see it's a little container, the plastic dyed a cool blue-green. There's a small flap on the top for flicking open and dispensing what looks like little sweets.

"Peppermints," Jisung says softly, a little shyly. "They help me when I feel all shaky and irritable. Chan-hyung keeps a pack in his bag for me too, just in case I start feeling anxious at events or concerts... maybe it'll help you too."

You sniff and let him put one of the mints on your palm. You lift it to your mouth and the sensation is immediately refreshing, a growing, almost cool-burn that seems to ease the aching tension that's set itself into your muscles.

It tastes slightly salty from the sweat on your palms, but it disappears as you roll it over your tongue. You exhale a tense breath you didn't know you'd been holding.

You blink again, even slower, hoping that Jisung knows it means thankyou. And he seems to understand, because he tips the container up a little, taking one of the mints himself with a grin.

a/n: hello yes i would like to order one jisung please

not your doll - (bf!bang chan x reader)

pairing: bf!bang chan x reader

summary: chan comes home upset from the latin american leg of the dominate tour.

genre: reverse comfort, idol!au, angsty, mentions of exhaustion, lots of crying, skz deserve better. reader comforts channie, mentions of delusion, mentions of eating and drinking

a/n: yall who think what happened in brazil is funny, or think it was 'just a joke' or 'fans showing support' get tf off my blog. i don't wanna see or talk to anyone who thinks what happened was okay. leave skz alone, leave chris alone. that man is not your punching bag, he's not responsible for fixing all your fucking problems, keeping everyone happy, or in charge of anyone's but his own happiness. that shit you gotta do yourself. this is so fucking disappointing, i'm ashamed to call myself a stay at the moment. let chris live his damn life and let the kids do the same. fuck yall 'stays'. if you were a real stay you wouldn't be doing this shit.

i stand with skz.

skz masterlist | skz prompt list

"Love?" You call softly, peeking around the bedroom door frame. "Did you wanna come and eat something?"

All you get in response is a muffled 'no' and the sound of shuffling as Chan shifts slightly on the bed. The warm lamplight from the bedside tables spill across his back, highlighting the skin in a rosy, haloed glow.

You sigh and pad over to him softly, sitting on the bed. "I know you might not feel like it, but you need some good food after all that travelling."

Chan shakes his head again, further mussing his unbrushed hair. The curls are squashed and fluffy from him burrowing his head into the pillows, but he doesn't seem to care. Not once has he lifted his head to take a breath of air, and you sigh and push his head gently to the side to do it for him.

He turns his head away, facing the opposite direction; you can hear the shudder from his lungs as he gulps in the fresh coldness of the air; you'd set the thermostat colder, just as he likes it, but he hadn't seemed to take any notice.

You sigh again, running a gentle hand down the soft, albeit slightly dry skin of his back. His duffel bag and suitcase is still in the corner of the room, the zip on his bag half undone as if he'd had the intention of unpacking, but he hasn't.

You'd left him to sort himself out and shower before coming to eat, but it seemed he'd just stripped himself of his outfit and tossed himself on the bed.

Couldn't say you blamed him.

Chan speaks then, low and muffled from the pillow. "I need to go to the company."

"It hasn't even been twenty minutes since you've been home, love," you chide him gently. "Just rest., hmm? All of that can come tomorrow. It doesn't look like you can even move right now..."

Chan groans and burrows his head further into the pillows; you take a soft fistful of his hair and tug it lightly, guiding his head to the side. Your heart lurches.

Chan is crying.

His makeup is smudged; you immediately rest your hands on his shoulders. They're tense as rocks. A black streak of eyeshadow has smeared itself across the white pillowcase, as well as some of his concealer; he doesn't seem to care, and neither do you.

"Channie, my love," you say as gently as you can. You can't hide the worry on your face. "What's wrong?"

That's a useless question. You know exactly what's wrong.

He sits up suddenly, as if to get up, but he collapses on his knees, digging them into the soft sheets. He throws his hands out.

"It's not fair," he cries desperately. "I do everything I can to make things work, and then it all just gets thrown to the side... I can't even open my mouth anymore without my words being twisted..."

You sit there, eyes wide and bewildered, watching this outburst. It's so oddly unlike him to do this, but you know exactly what he's talking about.

"I- The kids, too, they have to deal with all of this, I couldn't wait for us to leave because of what happened at the hotel... They were taking videos of us, videos of one of the kids just standing outside on the balcony, minding his own business, and I couldn't sleep all night because of them chanting, I just-" He hiccups, a tear spilling from each eye like a shattered crystal.

"I just want it all to go right, but it doesn't, and no matter what I do it's not enough," he keels over then, and you pull him into your lap. He lets his lower half kneel over the bed, his face buried in your thighs.

Your vision starts to blur, and a tear drops into his hair, but neither of you take notice. "Channie..."

"I chose this life, Y/n, I chose all of this, I thought I could handle it but I'm not so sure anymore. I want to be happy, and perform without worrying about all of this, I want everyone to just leave me alone..." He's crying freely now, hands gripping your hips as his back shakes, and it's all you can do not to start crying yourself.

That sadness is quickly taken over by a wave of disapproval and anger, anger at the people who dare treat your lover like this, treat his group like performing monkeys at a circus, to be poked and prodded at.

How dare they.

It's not fair. He's right. And you know you can't fix it, make it all better, kiss it healed like you have so many times before. And it's that feeling of helplessness, that overwhelming powerlessness, that makes you lean down and whisper fiercely in Chan's ear.

"Listen to me," you whisper. "It doesn't matter who did it, it doesn't matter if they thought it was right. I can't sit here and tell you I can fix it, because I can't, and neither can you, because it's not your problem, it will never be your problem. You are not their toy. Channie, my love, all you need to do is keep going. That's it, without looking back.

"Forget about those people who pretend to be Stays, who are nothing more than obsessed delusional idiots. I know it's hard. They are so completely and utterly lost in their own worlds, and you can't tie yourself into knots to fix them, because it's impossible.

"I know it hurts, love, and I know it's frustrating, especially for the kids too. None of you deserve to be treated like that, like you have to be filmed and screamed at and all of those other things-"

"But if I don't let them, then they all start hating me," his eyes are teary, utterly exhausted with emotion.

"Chris, you are not a doll," you say firmly, cupping his face. "You are not responsible for everyone's happiness. You are responsible for your own joy. So are the kids. I know you feel like you have to take the weight of the world on your shoulders, but it doesn't mean that you have to take everyone's bullshit alongside it too...

"You are a musician, an artist, not a miracle worker or some sort of magician that can take everyone's troubles away or perform to everyone's unrealistic standards. And as for those idiots who stalked you outside your hotel, JYP is taking measures to deal with it. And he says it's fine if you want to take a break for a while."

"I don't want to," he says quietly, inhaling your scent as you lean down to kiss the crown of his head. "I just wanted to be home with you, and I am."

"Love..."

"Please," he says, quieter. His tears have slowed. "I don't wanna talk about this anymore. It makes me angry, and being angry is exhausting. I'm already exhausted."

You sigh and crack a tiny smile, tapping his cheek lightly. Already you can see his resilience taking effect. Nothing keeps him down for long, your Chan.

"I'll let it go if you promise to come and eat something," you say. "Otherwise, I'm gonna call the kids to spend the night here and they'll eat all of the food I made for you-"

"Okay, okay," he groans, heaving himself upright. "I'm coming. Please don't call them, I've lost enough sleep trying to keep them all in line."

You laugh and kiss him. His lips are slightly chapped, and you tsk softly into the kiss as he stands up, taking you with him.

"Y/n," he murmurs, burning hands slipping to your waist.

"Thought you were too tired," you giggle.

He doesn't respond, instead tugging you closer. You reluctantly pull back and poke his side, making him gasp.

He pulls back too, fighting a sheepish look as you stare pointedly at the bathroom door. "Go shower, then come eat. Now."

He rolls his eyes and steals another kiss to your cheek as he heads towards the bathroom. "Fine."

Chuckling, you make your way to the door, heading to the kitchen. Your feet slow at the door threshold, and you turn to look back at Chan as he busies himself with pulling out a fresh set of clothes from his drawers. Even exhausted and upset, he's still beautiful. Your heart sinks a little as you watch the tear tracks on his face glisten under the lamplight, but you don't bring it up. Instead-

"Channie," you say softly.

He looks up, a black hoodie in one hand.

Your voice is gentle, almost hesitant. "It'll be okay, you know that, right?"

He nods quietly, solemn as you've ever seen him. "I know."

You feel your lips curving into a soft but sad smile. "I love you."

He blinks. "I love you more."

"That's not possible," you say teasingly as you turn and head towards the kitchen.

His laugh echoes through the house.

a/n: none bc i'm fucking pissed.

ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude

send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !

Your Skz 9th member was so good, you really know how to write the members so well, their relationships with each other are perfect 😍 you should definitely write more 9th member

thank you so much anon ! yeah i definitely will once i get time and think up some new plotlines.

keep an eye out for updates !

NONONONONONOOOOOO NO SIRREE YOU CANNOT JS LEAVE US W STUPIDLY PERFECT LIKE THAT NUH UHHHHHH PART 2 PART 2 PLSPLSPLS OR AT LEAST JS TELL ME IF SHE DIED I NEED TO KNOW SO I CAN MOVE ON 😭😭

hahah we'll see lol . . .

might release a part 2 once the first part hits 150 notes. that's how i usually decide whether to write a part 2 ><