Starlost Mochi Fics - Tumblr Posts

♡ . . . starlost-mochi . . . ♡

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~ hi ♡ my name is mochi ( 20, she/her ) ~

this is a space for me to do cool shit. new to tumblr. currently, i write for skz only.

(( requests currently open ))

dividers from pinterest, @cafekitsune, and @anitalenia

please like and reblog to support !! comments appreciated. do not reupload my content

mochi signing out...☆

galaxy - lee felix

pairing: lee felix x reader

summary: your boyfriend comes home to your cooking.

genre: fluff, idol! au, just sweet lixie

a/n: first fic! everyone cheer! *awkward silence*

You curse as you clumsily scatter sprinkles of cheese on the floor for the fifth time. It's taken half an hour just to prepare all the ingredients, and Felix is going to be back from the company any minute. A cheesy, almost spicy aroma floats around your apartment kitchen, mixing with the cold, crisp night air from the half-open window.

It rained earlier this evening. You think about how Felix must have sat at his desk, working away at lyrics and music with the other members. How he must have heard the rain and moved to the window, mouth tilting upwards as he watched the scattered, crystal raindrops thud heavily against the glass pane. You do the same thing now, wistfully staring out into the night, hair ruffling with the slight breeze.

You don't even realise you're smiling at the thought of it.

The earthy smell of petrichor floats into the kitchen as you move back to the stove, gently stirring the pot. It bubbles and sizzles, a fresh wave of the mouthwatering smell hitting you full in the face. Sure, it might look a little strange (maybe it's burnt...) but you know Felix will love it anyway. He always does.

He usually does the cooking most of the time, knowing your haphazard tendencies to drop things and clumsily hurt yourself. He would much rather cook than risk you getting hurt any day. The thought of his tenderness makes you smile again, and you're so lost in thought that you don't hear the faint sound of the door opening with a click. It's accompanied by the sound of Felix's usual sneakers, his favourite pair. He steps in quietly, careful not to trail water inside.

He peeks around the kitchen wall, watching you with a cheeky, loving smile on his face. You're bathed in golden light from the overhead lighting, casting an amber glow over your body and the various pots and pans scattering the stove. To anyone else, it might look like a mess, but to Felix, it's the equivalent of an angel standing in his kitchen, haloed by a wash of honey light.

He clumsily toes off his sneakers and socks, eyes fixed on your frame. You're still lost in thought, the bubbling of the pot causing enough of a distraction that you don't realise Felix creeping up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist, making you drop the spoon. You twist in his grip, surprised and more than delighted to see him.

"Lixie! You're back!" You beam, and Felix's heart melts. His arms subconsciously tighten around your waist. When he speaks, his voice is deep and molten, flowing like water.

"Hey, sunshine. I missed you," he peeks at the pot over your shoulder, crinkling his nose as he smiles. "Whatcha cooking?"

A half-hearted, slightly awkward laugh leaves your lips. You look back at the pot, hand coming up to absentmindedly scratch at his blonde, pinfeather-like hair as you think. Your earlier haze of determination to cook something for your boyfriend had faded about half and hour ago, your rationality returning from its brief holiday.

"I'm not actually sure... um-"

He laughs, the sound swelling and filling the kitchen. It floats out into the night, rich and lilting. You think for a second that his laugh might mingle with the stars, creating unique galaxies and constellations that match the ones in his eyes perfectly. Twisting your head back, you give him a sheepish grin, fingertips lightly touching his freckles, dotted across his cheeks and nose like his very own galaxy. Your galaxy.

Felix kisses your nose. "I appreciate the effort, sunflower. I love you so much, you know that?"

You smile softly. "I love you too, but uh-" You turn back to the pot, which now smells unpleasantly burnt. "Maybe we should just order food instead."

Felix chuckles.

"Definitely."

a/n: how do we feel about this? do you guys want more? if so, go request! it would make my day <3

movie nights - leeknow

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: you and your boyfriend have a friday night tradition

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, little bit of crack, mild suggestiveness

a/n: hopefully this gains me some momentum... also do i call him leeknow or minho? who knows. (ha get it?) divider by @chilumitos

"Minho!" you shriek. "Give it back!"

Said man does not give it back, instead standing even higher on his tippy toes and holding your favourite plushie out of reach. A cheeky grin is stretched across his face. He holds the calico cat plushie just out of your grasp, swaying it back and forth.

You leap up onto the couch, almost slipping on the throw blanket draped haphazardly over its back, and stretch out towards minho. He steps back just as your fingertips brush the soft material and does a little dance, laughing at your reaction. The movie that was playing in the background has been long forgotten.

"Min," you whine. "Just give it back..."

Friday night movies had always been a tradition between you two. You both came up with the idea when you moved into your first place, celebrating the move-in with a movie and your favourite snacks. Every Friday after that, Minho would knock on your door, and you'd answer to a grinning cat, his arms laden with snacks and drinks. Then you two would pick a movie and cuddle as you watched it.

Sometimes you would poke fun at the characters and their actions, other times the atmosphere would be amiable and quiet. Not tonight.

You yelp as you slip off the couch, groaning when you hit the floor on your knees. Collapsing forward into the mountain of cushions, you glare up at Minho, huffing in defeat. He stands above you, still holding the plushie in the air, like he's not sure whether to drop it and ask if you're okay or continue dancing like the absolute madman he is.

You hope he does the first.

Safe to say, he does not.

Minho throws his head back and laughs so loudly it reverberates through the rooms. Then, as if it's an afterthought, he drops to his knees and tosses the plushie aside, scattering snacks and packets and drinks as he sits next to you. He clumsily knocks a few other things off the coffee table, rendered utterly unstable by his mirth.

You groan. "It's not funny."

He snickers, touching your arm gently. "It is a little."

You huff and roll over, facing away from him as you sulk. A haughty smile tugs at your lips as he prods your side, whining. Suddenly collapsing on top of you, he pokes your nose.

"Yeobo, stop ignoring mee...."

You groan and let out an oof as he shifts. He's gotten stronger and more muscly, which also means he's heavier (in the best possible way, of course). You can hardly breathe and a wheeze escapes you at the sudden realisation. Squirming away, you dislodge your legs and make a run for the plushie, scrambling across the floor. Minho yelps, grabbing your ankle. You squeal as he pulls you back, climbing up so you're both face to face. He smirks and grabs the plush with his long, slender arms.

"Minho, just-"

"Ah ah ah," he taps his lips, grinning. "Kiss. Then i'll give it back."

You sigh, and relent. He tastes like strawberry soda and fried chicken. His hand creeps to the back of your neck, stroking the shorter hairs there. You turn your head, breaking the kiss. Glaring at him, you sit up and smack him lightly on the arm.

"Now give it back."

Minho grins mischievously, and throws the plushie across the room. It lands somewhere down the hallway, and you crane your neck to see where it's gone. Your vision spins suddenly as Minho grabs your shoulders, pulling you back down onto the comfy pile of pillows and blankets. He smirks.

"Just one more kiss-"

"Minho!"

a/n: requests are open <3

landscape - hwang hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

summary: while hyunjin is gone on a trip, you decide to surprise him

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, reader described as the artsy type

a/n: thank you all sm for the support so far!! i woke up to 99+ notifications this morning, i'm so glad people enjoy my work 🥹

Your white shirt is streaked with another smear of peachy paint, right down the middle. Several other miscellaneous shades haphazardly decorate your front and back. Your jeans, to say the least, are permanently ruined. Your overall appearance right now gives off the vibes of an abstract painting that was left to dry, but then was accidentally dropped on the floor and forgotten about.

You couldn't care less.

Giggling to yourself, you reach up and swipe another streak of yellow across the wall. The room is a mess right now. A large white sheet is spread across the floor to protect the floorboards, and a load of different paint tins and cans are scattered throughout the room, crowding at your feet. Paintbrushes clutter the desk, and Lana del Rey echoes in the background, reverberating off the walls and swelling to fill the messy space. Almost every surface of the room is covered in paint and markers and pencils and a miscellany of other items that makes it look more like a art-dumping ground than Hyunjin's little art studio.

He's been gone on a work trip for the past few days, and without his presence to entertain you, you endeavored to start a project, something that would keep you busy until you returned. Safe to say, it certainly has.

You're currently painting a massive landscape across the back wall of the art studio, where it will best catch the light from the window opposite. The wet paint glows with the dappled sunlight that filters in through the window, making the rolling hills and fields of the painting look like they're under the summer sun. You asked Hyunjin beforehand about what he might do to decorate the studio, since the walls were bare and blank. He had simply laughed and kissed your nose, saying 'you decide, love.'

You're not really sure what he would think about the current mess on the wall. It's distinguishable, but you know it would have looked much better if he had been here to help. But you've tried your best, and it looks a lot better than you thought it would, so you continue, streaking sage and sky blue across the surface of the wall.

You've never felt so free. You understand why Hyunjin loves his craft so much, spending almost every free minute in this studio, with his paintbrush flicking expertly across the canvas and his slender, pretty hands tinted in reds and blues.

A sudden gasp from the studio door makes you drop the paintbrush. It clatters to the floor and you freeze, turning your head to the doorway.

Hyunjin stands, tall and elegant as always, both hands clasped to his mouth and eyes wide open. He's dressed in a smart, black suit, but his socks are mismatched and his hair is falling out of his hairstyle. One silver earrings clings to the lobe of his ear. He must have lost the other one, or been in the process of taking it off when he found you here in the studio, making an absolute mess on the walls.

But he doesn't look horrified at all. You thought at first he looked the way a parent might, when they walk into a room and find out their toddler has been drawing on the walls with coloured sharpies.

He looks delighted.

Rushing towards you, he sweeps you up in a hug, spinning around and laughing. You wriggle, not because you aren't pleased to see him, but because he's wearing a Versace suit and you're a mess of mismatched paints barely resembling a human being. He only holds you tighter, burying his face in your neck and streaking his cheek and hair with scarlet in the process. The scent of his spicy, woodsy perfume mixes with the smell of paint and turpentine, and you inhale deeply. He's bouncing on the spot, hands gesturing wildly and feet shuffling in a way that reminds you more of an excitable golden retriever puppy than your boyfriend. You're not sure if he's happier to see you or the half-painted wall. You open your mouth to express your surprise and delight at his sudden arrival, but are interrupted.

He squeals, hands flapping. "The WALL! Did you do it all by yourself? Oh, and you raided all my art supplies too- is that a landscape of Jeju Island, where we went last year? Oh, it is! I remember you stood there and i took photos of you- love, you really should have painted yourself into it, i would have loved that-"

You cut him off with a kiss. Pulling back, you whisper.

"Help me finish it? It doesn't feel perfect like i wanted it to..."

He's already stripping off his Versace jacket, throwing it to the paint-smattered floor.

"Hyunjin- why would you throw it on the floor, that's expensive-"

"Don't care."

He's already picked up your fallen brush, handing it to you and selecting one of his own. Crouching down, he delicately dips it into a tin of black paint and adds two little stick figures in the corner- a tall one with a paintbrush and a shorter one holding its hand. He changes brushes and gently dabs yellow and red to its face, similar to your face in its current state. It takes you a moment to realise that it's you and Hyunjin. He grins, setting his brush down.

"Now it's perfect."

a/n: don't forget to request ! likes and comments are so appreciated, and again, thank you for all the love <3

duvet - lee felix

pairing: lee felix x reader

summary: it's raining outside, and felix has an idea...

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, comfort, crack

a/n: second felix fic. here we go...

"Look at the raindrops, Lixie."

He hums, slender fingers tracing the frosted glass and the patterns of said raindrops as they slide down the pane. Both of you are leaning over the back of the couch and watching the rain patter neverendingly through the window. It's cold, even inside the house, and Felix's fluffy-socked feet touch yours as you both sit in amiable, companiable silence.

The storm has been going on for a while. It began this morning, deciding that it was going to pour down all of a sudden while both of you were in the garden, resulting in a heap of wet clothes, a steaming hot shower, multiple cups of hot chocolate, and two pairs of fluffy winter socks. You smile at the remembered chaos of the moment, both of you running like headless, soggy chickens over the lawn, making a break for the patio door, screaming and laughing and blowing away the wet hair plastered to both your foreheads. It was funny, considering you both decided to shower straight after. It was like stepping out of the storm and into another (though much warmer than the first).

You're pulled out of your thoughts by the rustling sound of Felix getting out of couch. You whine as he gets up and he pats your head.

"Calm down. I'll be back in a second."

You huff and turn back to the window, already missing the warmth of his body and presence next to you. He returns a few moments later, dragging the duvet of your shared double bed into the living room.

"Felix!" You laugh. "What are you doing?"

He grumbles with the effort, groaning as he heaves the whole thing onto the couch. It envelops you both in a thick, heavy cocoon of warmth and spills off the sofa, pooling in heavy folds. Panting with the exertion, he flops back into his spot next to you, resting his head on his folded arms. "There."

You giggle. "You didn't have to bring the whole duvet, you know. There's already a few throw blankets that we keep here, remember?"

Felix sighs, scratching his head. "I know, but it wasn't warm enough."

"It was, actually."

He mimics your voice, shaking his head repeatedly and pulling a funny face. Laughing, you push him sideways in retaliation and he falls into the thick folds of the duvet, landing with a soft oof.

"Oh.." He groans, wiggling and burrowing further into the couch. "This feels so nice..."

You chuckle. "You're going to overheat under that thing."

Felix huffs. "I'll cool down then."

"How?"

He's silent for a minute. You gaze at him expectantly. Then, with a wicked grin, he springs up (with some effort) out of the duvet and seizes you around the waist, dragging you off the couch. You yelp and wriggle, but it's no use; Felix has always been far stronger than you. He hauls you to the glass patio door, the storm raging on outside. He opens the door a little and a gush of cold air rushes in, seeping straight through both of your clothes and sinking into your bones. You scream, laughing, and try to struggle away as Felix cackles, keeping a firm grip on you.

Felix huffs into your ear with a grin. "We could always cool off outside-"

"No! Let go, Lixie, please-" He jerks his arms forward a little, your hands pushing against the doorframe as he pretends to try and throw you outside, back into the storm.

You squeal and twist in his grip as he staggers back from the door, shutting it. The cold air is immediately replaced with the diffused scent of your favourite cinnamon candle and the aroma of hot chocolate as Felix relents. You clumsily tear yourself out of his loosening grip and let out a triumphant laugh. Felix does the same as he lunges for you again, and his foot slips out from under him. He topples forward, taking you with him to the floor. You both land on the thick duvet, and the whole thing is dragged off the couch.

Sighing and pushing his hands away from your waist, you grin and burrow into the duvet, giggling. Felix turns on his side to face you, hand coming up to bring a fold of blanket over your bodies, wrapping both of you in a thick, heavy burrito roll. He giggles too.

It's hard not to when you're surrounded by the intoxicating, cosy warmth of each other's presence.

a/n: send in some requests for me ! they'll be published within a day <3

asking skz hyung line - "would you still love me if i was a worm?"

pairing: ot8 hyung line x reader

summary: you ask skz hyung line if they would love you if you were a worm.

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, crack

a/n: lmk if you guys want the maknaes !

bang chan

chuckles when you ask him

then goes quiet

he def thinks for a moment before answering

is mildly confused by the question but his eyes are twinkling as he replies

hes so soft and gentle about it pls

"A worm, huh? Well, i'd probably be super confused at first, because the love of my life suddenly turned into a worm, but i would find a way to keep you safe. Maybe i would make a little worm home for you, with the best soil so you could be happy and live a comfortable life. But honestly, it doesn’t matter what, or who you are. Love isn't about appearances; it’s about the connection we have. So, yeah, even if you were a worm, I'd still love you. I’d probably talk to you all the time, even if you couldn’t talk back to me. And knowing you, you'd still find a way to make me smile, even as a little worm."

lee know

almost instantly jokes about frying you in the airfryer with hyunjin

starts googling 'tasty worm recipes'

but when he notices that you're serious about it he stops and reassures you he's joking

looks at you for a long time, head tilted

when he responds it's very thoughtful

"Well, I'd probably have to find a nice garden for you. Maybe you'd enjoy digging around in the dirt, finding cozy spots to burrow into... But honestly, I’d still care for you. It might be strange, but love isn’t something that disappears just because of a change in appearance. I’d find a way to keep you safe, and who knows? Maybe I'd learn to appreciate worms a lot more. I’d probably keep you in my pocket so we could still go everywhere together. It’d be different, but I’d still love you all the same."

changbin

bursts out laughing at the question

100% caught off guard

smiles wider and wider as he responds

is very animated and keeps gesturing with his hands

starts looking online for pet worms so he can buy one and show you how well he would take care of it as proof

"A worm? You’re really asking me that? I don’t think I’d ever expect to hear you ask me something like that. But okay, let’s see… if you were a worm, I’d make sure you had the best worm life possible. I’d probably take you on all my adventures, keeping you safe in a little jar or something. You being a worm wouldn’t change how I feel. I’d probably talk to you every day, telling you about my day and everything i did. Oh, and i would make you little protein shakes so you can be a strong worm. So, yeah, even if you were, I’d still love you. You’d be my special little worm."

hyunjin

ah, our romantic lover boy...

smiles softly when you first ask him

slowly becomes more thoughtful as he thinks about his reply

when he speaks, it's soft and tinged with affection

he loves you with all his heart but he secretly hopes you don't turn into an actual worm (he doesn't like slimy things)

"A worm? Well, if you were a worm, I’d probably carry you around in a little glass vial, close to my heart. I’d talk to you and make sure you’re safe and comfortable. It’d be a strange situation, but I’d find a way to make it work. Love isn’t just about what someone looks like. It’s about how they make you feel, and you make me feel loved and happy and complete. So even if you were a worm, I’d still love you. I’d probably end up writing cute poems about you on little pieces of paper, my little worm muse."

a/n: should i do the maknaes? comment if you want a second part !

guess you guys really loved the felix fanfic lol 🖤

read it here

masterlist

how skz loves you - maknae line

pairing: ot8 maknae line x reader

summary: how skz maknae line would love you.

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, crack

a/n: comments are appreciated <3

han ♡

Han shows his love through his energy and enthusiasm. He’s always coming up with fun ideas to make you smile, whether that’s a spontaneous karaoke session, a silly dance, or a surprise outing to your favorite place. He’s incredibly supportive, always cheering you on and reminding you of how amazing you are, especially when you’re doubting yourself. Han loves to share his world with you, often sending you funny memes, songs that remind him of you, or little voice notes just to say he’s thinking of you. He’s also very affectionate, constantly giving you hugs, back rubs, or just leaning his head on your shoulder. Han is the type to remember every little detail you share with him, from your favorite snacks to your biggest dreams, and he makes an effort to show you that he’s paying attention. His love is like a burst of sunshine—warm, bright, and full of joy <3

felix ♡

Felix’s love is shown through his warmth and nurturing nature. He’s always checking in on you, asking how your day went and genuinely wanting to hear all the details. Felix loves to bake for you, often surprising you with your favorite cookies or a new recipe he tried out just for you. His hugs are legendary—warm, tight, and comforting, as if he’s wrapping you in all the love he has to offer. Felix also loves to give compliments, always finding ways to make you feel special and appreciated. Whether it’s complimenting your outfit, your smile, or just the way you are, Felix is always reminding you of how much you mean to him. He’s also incredibly thoughtful, often doing small things like bringing you a blanket when you’re cold or making sure you have everything you need before he goes to sleep. His love is gentle and kind, making you feel safe and cherished <3

seungmin ♡

Seungmin shows his love through his reliability and quiet acts of service. He’s always there when you need him, whether it’s helping you with something or just being a listening ear after a tough day. Seungmin might not always be the most outwardly affectionate, but his love is clear in the way he consistently puts you first. He remembers the little things, like how you take your coffee or what kind of music you like, and he’ll make sure those things are ready for you without even being asked. Seungmin also loves to offer practical support—helping you with tasks, offering advice, or just being a steady presence in your life. He’s the type to send you reminders to take care of yourself, or to leave you a cup of tea on your desk when you’re working late. His love is dependable and strong, making you feel cared for in a quiet, meaningful way <3

jeongin ♡

I.N shows his love through his youthful energy and genuine care. He’s always eager to spend time with you, whether that’s playing games, going on adventures, or just hanging out and chatting. I.N loves to make you laugh, often coming up with funny stories or playful jokes to see you smile. He’s also very thoughtful, often surprising you with little gifts or notes just to let you know he’s thinking of you. Despite his playful nature, I.N is incredibly attentive—he notices when you’re feeling down and will do everything he can to cheer you up, from bringing you your favorite snack to planning a fun outing to distract you. He’s also very affectionate, always giving you hugs, holding your hand, or leaning on you when you’re together. His love is pure and sincere, making you feel cherished and adored in a way that’s both sweet and heartwarming <3

a/n: i put a lot of thought into this hahah... hopefully its worth it <3

Low-key can I pls request Chris comforting reader on her period because I'm on my right now and I want him as my personal hot water bottle.

Thank you!!

omg first request!!

hopefully this meets your expectations hahah... i wrote reader having a really bad period... hopefully that's fine for you <3 feel better!

he comforts you on your period - bang chan

pairing: bang chan x reader

summary: you're struggling with your period and chan helps you out

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, comfort, lil bit angsty. mentions of undressing, feeling nauseous & dizzy, cramps and period pain, reader has a period (obviously)

a/n: comments are appreciated... and whoever's reading this, feel better! and eat some dark chocolate <3

You groan for the fourth time as another debilitating cramp whacks you right in the gut, followed straight after by a dizzying wave of nausea. You're helpless to do anything but whine and writhe weakly on the bed, tangling the sheets and causing uncomfortable lumps of the blanket to pool up around you. It's too hot, too cold, too much pain, too sharp, too dull, never-ending.

You can't even call for Chan.

He's working from home today due to the severe weather, shut in his little studio down the apartment hallway. The rain clatters and thunders against the windows and balcony door, speckled with tiny crystal shards of hail ice. He's probably busy working away at some song while on call with the rest of 3RACHA. You can picture him busily writing down song lyrics in his notebook, headphones and black cap askew on his head, and hand messily smudging the dark, scented ink of his words on the page. His pretty, dark eyes shining, wide and focused as he does what he does best.

That pleasing mental image of your boyfriend is quickly chased away by another wave of nausea and you curl in on yourself, fighting the desperate urge to scream with whatever you have left. You didn't bother taking painkillers when the first cramp hit this morning, thinking you could muscle through it. Every time, you think you can handle the pain, and every time, you're proven completely and utterly wrong. And now you're immobilised on the bed, unable to do anything but face the bloody wrath of your monthly cycle.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Groaning, you shift achingly slowly to the side, trying to alleviate the pain. For a moment, you consider calling for Chan, but you doubt you'd be able to shout loud enough, and more so, you don't want to disturb him. The comeback is soon, and he was stressed enough at not being able to go to the company after seeing the state of the weather. He'd woken you up with a kiss, ordered breakfast to be delivered to the door, and disappeared, only pausing to throw on a hoodie and his usual cap. The studio door had shut and you had heard no more. He's been working all morning. He had said to try not to disturb him unless you really needed something, but you understood. He had a lot to do. But...

Biting your lip guiltily, and then wincing at the dull pain pooling in your stomach, you do your best to slide off the bed. It doesn't matter how much it hurts; you need painkillers. And right now, Chan can't afford to be distracted, so you muster up all of your strength to sit upright.

One foot touches the cold floor, and then the other. Both hands fly to your stomach and you double over, hair brushing your knees as you wait for the dizzying nausea to pass. It feels like you're being slammed in the gut with a sledgehammer set on fire. Attempting to regain your bearings, you sit up and wait for a few minutes. The pain dulls for a few moments and so does the headache, so you shakily stand, reaching for the wall in case your knees give out. Walking to the kitchen is a colossal effort, and a slow one at that too. The short walk down the hallway feels like a year.

Finally slumping against the counter, feet numb from the cold tiles, you take a glass from the dishrack and fill it halfway with water, spilling most of it on the counter in your hazy, aching state. Your vision is spotted with stars as you reach up on tiptoes and open the medicine cabinet to reach the painkillers.

You swallow two and move to make your way back to the bedroom. Turning, you're suddenly hit with the most awful, searing, intolerable pain. You jackknife to the floor, knees throbbing from the solid impact as they thud against the tiles. Leaning heavily on the cabinet, you rest your forehead against the cool, slightly chilled surface, and feel a liquid smearing onto the cupboard door. Pulling away slightly, you realise you're covered in a sheen of sweat. Your clothes stick uncomfortably to your body. It's too hot, too cold, too much pain, too sharp, too dull, never-ending but even worse than before.

Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, every heave sapping your energy. Sagging forward, you rest your face against the cool tiles, trying to stay conscious. Your surroundings blur out, replaced with an unpleasant echoing ring and the sound of Chan's footsteps.

Chan's footsteps?

He's holding his drained waterbottle in one hand and his phone in the other, eyebrows furrowing as he reads some lyric notes he typed earlier. Feeling quite pleased with himself, he turns into the kitchen and is immediately met with the sight of you slumped on the floor, coated in sweat and curled up like a dying insect in the summer.

His eyes widen and he drops to his knees, phone clattering to the side and waterbottle clanging loudly. The sound makes you wince.

"Love? Hey-" his warm, calloused hands run over your shoulders, panicked and wide-eyed. "What happened?"

You can't even respond.

Chan swears a few colorful, fluent phrases as he stands and dashes down the hallway, returning with a damp rag. He gently but hurriedly mops the sweat off your forehead and nape before tossing it aside and carefully lifting you into his firm, toned arms. Deadlifting you from the floor, he carries you back to the bedroom and sets you down gently, pulling the rumpled covers back. He rushes out of the room for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes. Hurrying into the bedroom, he sets a few things down on the bedside before gently freeing you from your sweaty clothes.

In another scenario, you would be embarrassed, but right now you can't care less. It feels freeing and the cold air in the apartment seeps into your body, providing a welcome coolness. He lifts a hot water bottle and places it onto your lower stomach, tucking it slightly into the waistband of your underwear to keep it in place. He presses down lightly and you groan weakly, the heat providing almost immediate relief from the aching.

You don't register what happens after that; only the feeling of the damp cloth sweeping over your forehead and neck and Chan's warm, gentle touch keep you connected to consciousness. He begins to sing softly, lulling you into the heavy, dreamless sleep of the sick. HIs voice floats in the air like a wisp, light and airy and lilting, yet deep, accented, and rich. You gather all your remaining strength.

"Channie," you croak.

He looks up, brows knitted together in worry. He stops his ministrations, hand hovering over your shoulder.

Tears well in your eyes. Whether it's from the jumbled mess that the morning has been, the maelstrom of hormones, emotions and guilt in your system, the debilitating pain, or Chan's seemingly endless love, you're not entirely sure. Your voice is an almost inaudible whisper.

"I'm sorry i disturbed you. I went to take painkillers so i wouldn't disturb you because i know you're busy with the comeback-"

He cuts you off, expression gentle yet concerned. "I know i was busy, but you should have called me, love. Look at the state of you."

A hot tear spills down your cheek. "I'm sorry, Channie."

He shushes you, stroking your hair back from your forehead. "Don't apologise, yeah? If you need me, i'll come to you. Please don't ever feel that you're a bother to me or that you're disturbing me. Especially when it comes to things like this," he rubs your hipbone softly with his thumb, in soothing, relieving circles.

"Channie, can you cuddle me?"

He smiles softly. Pressing himself to your back, he bends his knees, spooning and tucking you into his chest. A surge of intoxicating warmth seeps pleasantly into your body and you sigh contentedly. His toned arm snakes around your waist, pressing the hot water bottle to your stomach so you don't have to hold it there yourself. Kissing your neck softly, he nuzzles into your shoulder, telling you to sleep and that he would be there when you wake up. It feels so warm, so cosy, so safe. But the guilt of having tore him away from his work doesn't slip your hazy, fatigued mind.

"Channie, i'm sorry for being a bother."

He exhales a small, sincere chuckle through his nose, tucking his head further into your shoulder.

"You're never a bother to me, love."

a/n: how'd i do? do we like it? likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated <3

asking skz maknae line - "would you still love me if i was a worm?"

pairing: ot8 maknae line x reader

summary: you ask skz maknae line if they would love you if you were a worm.

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, crack

a/n: here's the hyung line version <3

han

bursts out laughing

pokes fun at you "why'd you turn into a worm of all things?"

squints at you and pretends to think

googles pictures of worms to show you what he thinks you would look like

an absolute clown

"A worm? Where did that even come from? Hmm... I guess I’d keep you in a little terrarium and make sure you have the best worm life ever. I’d give you the fanciest dirt and the coolest little rocks to crawl around on. But y'know, if you were a worm, I’d still find a way to love you. I’d probably talk to you all the time, even if you couldn’t respond. And hey, maybe I’d write a song about my worm partner. It’d be weird, but it’d be our weird, and I’d love you all the same. Maybe I could even change the lyrics of my songs to be about worms for you!"

felix

also a soft boi

think about it for three seconds then responds

is trying not to giggle

hes so silly pls

does his best worm impression afterwards to demonstrate his worm-loving capabilities

"A worm? That’s a new one! Well, if you were a worm, I’d make sure you’re the happiest worm ever. I’d keep you in a little jar with the best soil and maybe even decorate it with tiny things to make it cozy for you... maybe even a mini Bbokari so you won't be lonely and you have something to cuddle with! But sunflower, I’d still love you. It doesn’t matter what you are because my love for you goes beyond appearances. I’d probably carry you around everywhere with me, so you wouldn’t be lonely. We’d still have our special moments together, just in a different way. And who knows? Maybe you’d be the cutest worm ever. I’d love you no matter what."

seungmin

deadass stares at you

this man is thinking up the most savage reply but then decides not to

bc he doesn't want to hurt your feelings too much

is soft about it but also threatens to use you as fishing bait if you get worm slime everywhere

also hopes that you don't actually turn into a worm

"A worm? You’ve really outdone yourself with this one. If you were a worm, I’d probably keep you in a little terrarium with all the best dirt and leaves you could ever want. I’d make sure you have a comfortable life. But in all honesty, it wouldn’t change how I feel about you. Love isn’t just about physical appearance or form; it’s about the connection we share. So even if you were a slimy worm, I’d still care for you. I’d find a way to talk to you and spend time with you, even if it’s different from how we are now. You’d still be you, but a disgusting, stinky worm, and that’s who I love."

help

jeongin

is genuinely horrified at first

a worm?? of all things??

does eventually laugh at the idea

finds a picture of a worm and draws your face on it

keeps it in his phone case bc he thinks it's funny and cute (but he's macho so he's not gonna tell you that)

"A worm? That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day! But if you were a worm, I’d make sure you have a nice little home. I’d probably keep you in a small, safe place where I could always see you and make sure you’re okay. I’d still love you, you know. Love isn’t just about what you look like; it’s about who you are inside. So even if you were a worm, I’d still find ways to spend time with you. I’d probably talk to you all the time, telling you about my day and everything. It’d be different, but I’d still care for you just as much. Maybe I could even find you other worm friends to hang out with!"

a/n: i laughed so hard writing seungmin's

the fast lane : part 1 (bangchan x reader x felix)

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

Warnings: not much tbh, skz racer!au, illegal street racing, chan is a cocky little shit, wc 2.5k

series masterlist

part 1 : the deal

The tunnel looked pretty unassuming; a round, gaping entrance that was once a pathway for trains to cross through. A hardly-used staircase leading down into a dirty subway and a copse of half dead trees sandwiched the tunnel of either side. Y/n dragged a finger across the cement wall, a trail of dirt and grime collecting on her fingertip. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she stepped back and surveyed the deserted entrance with a disdainful, skeptical eye.

The mouth of the tunnel was haphazardly littered with graffiti tags, long, sweeping, unintelligible strokes in varying shades of neon blue and green. Y/n's eyes swept across the letters and symbols, following the shapes and curves. Perhaps it was a message, or a warning. Stepping back and then peering into the darkness past the tunnel, Y/n sighed.

it felt more like a warning.

She hopped up and down on the spot and rubbed her arms. The night was cold and the air was frigid; Y/n's breath puffed out in front of her in a frozen mist, like dragon steam. She had no idea why she had decided to come here, and that too in the dead of night. Despite her passion for racing and her love of cars, she'd never raced in any official competitions, simply settling for a few high-speed laps round the city streets at night. But now, here she stood, at the entrance to an underground racing circuit, about to race alongside some of the city's most infamous racers.

Groaning inwardly and pulling out her phone, Y/n swiped to her socials and pulled up the details of the racing grounds. Checking the list of racers and seeing her name near the bottom, she huffed. There was no way she could back out now.

Gathering all her courage, Y/n stepped forward, her black boots meeting the dusty, cracked cement. The ground was scattered with cigarette butts and various other discarded items. She bit her lip and continued into the dark.

The neon, flickering electricity of the city faded away, leaving Y/n to walk through the seemingly endless darkness. Trailing one hand along the wall as she walked, Y/n felt her way to the other end of the tunnel. The details of the race had said to enter the tunnel without using flashlights, torches, or other sources of light. Y/n wondered why, and her jaw clenched as she realised it was probably to keep the police off the tracks of the races. She hadn't noticed any security cameras around the area before she'd gone in; but she couldn't shake the feeling that what she was doing was not really something she wanted to be legally confronted about.

A metallic clattering noise shook her out of her worries. Looking down and realising it was useless trying to see in the dark, Y/n bent down cautiously, hand scrabbling around on the cement, before making contact with a metal energy drink can. Chiding herself for her timidness, she walked on, slow and watchful, eyes straining.

The dark continued seemingly forever; each step she took brought a small haze of light to the end of the tunnel, then faded away. Her eyes ached with the strain of trying to see in pitch black. A small seed of panic took a firm grip on her insides, common sense returning from its brief vacation.

This is it, she thought. I'm going to be lost in the void forever.

Y/n closed her eyes, willing herself to think straight. It didn't matter whether her eyes were open or not; the dark was the same. Choking, suffocating, endless. Her fingertips on her right hand hurt from the roughness of the cement, bumps and cracks sending shockwaves of tittering trepidation through her. Her other hand was clenched tightly into a fist.

The wall beneath Y/n's fingertips suddenly disappeared, the cold air enveloping her slender hand once again. The stuffiness of the tunnel had disappeared, and Y/n tentatively opened her eyes, blinking to adjust them to the light. A surge of cold, crisp air filled her lungs with a low whoosh.

Noise.

Colour.

Light.

Y/n's eyes widened. She was standing at the entrance to a colossal circular arena. Rows of metal-backed bleachers rose in towering, circular rings around the main ground area. A large, winding race track, lined by colour-changing lights wound through the low stadium, disappearing somewhere near the back entrance; a tunnel. Turning back suddenly, Y/n stared through the darkness of the tunnel she'd juts come through. Two streets back, she would never had known any of this was here. Judging by how packed the place was, Y/n would have estimated half the city knew this racing circuit existed. It wasn't underground, per se, but it was a spectacle nonetheless. She'd never seen anything like it.

Several cars flew round the circuit, sending a whoosh of cool, petrol-smelling air into Y/n's face. She began to venture forward, and caught a glimpse of a sleek, red car speeding effortlessly around the racetrack; drifting perfectly around the turns and sending the high-pitched sound of zooming and screeching into the air. Six massive floodlights sent glaring white light flashing and reflecting off he vibrant, decorated surface of the cars and bleacher railings.

Surveying the arena with a look of stupid, dazed, disbelief, Y/n noticed a row of shiny, funky cars on a raised platform lining the right side of the amphitheatre. A throng of people were pushing against the guard rail, cheering loudly. Craning her neck to get a better look, Y/n began pushing her way through the crowd, making her way slowly but surely to the platform. The prominent beats of Japanese hip-hop music, the squeal of tires on asphalt, and the constant, excited chatter of the crowd surrounded Y/n like a fog. The excitement and passion in the air was contagious, though it was tinted with the lingering fumes of danger, risk-taking, spray-paint, and exhaust smoke.

It wasn't just the cars that were colorful; the crowd themselves sported an array of different outfits and appearances. Y/n passed by a man with a bright pink and yellow hairdo, silky waves falling into his face as two girls in neon green clung to his arm. Another had an orange LED light mask on, flashing smiley faces and heart eyes as he sold various items of racing paraphernalia to the tightly packed crowd.

But it wasn't hard to distinguish the racers themselves; they were dressed in sleek leather suits of varying colours, sponsors and supporter logos printed across their breast pockets and backs. Many of them carried helmets under the arms, and Y/n spotted a particular racer, who upon stepping out of a bright purple car, tossed his helmet and jacket to a teenage boy dressed in red. The boy fumbled to catch the items and hurriedly followed after the racer, a bit like a puppy following its owner.

It made sense to her that some of the racecar drivers had their own personal crews. Y/n knew that it was incredibly expensive to hire people for services like engineering, having spent almost half her savings on a three-person maintenance crew for the car she was to race tonight. Custom cars and suits must have been expensive enough as it was without the addition of pit crews and maintenance engineers. The people themselves were expensive, but not in a snobby, regal way. These people had the grime of the streets under their nails and hard work etched into the creases of their eyes. Y/n felt a strange sense of admiration and inspiration settle in her chest.

Finally making her way to the guard rail before the raised platform, Y/n looked past the racers and their cars, ignoring the cheering. She had eyes like a hawk's, and they landed nimbly on a roll-up garage door, which most likely led to the backstage area for the cars, and the private rooms for the racers. Thinking back to the instructions on her phone, Y/n began to move through the crowd to the door. That was where she would find her car to race tonight.

Her crew manager had sent her a photo of it; it was battered and a little rusty, but Y/n had faith in her abilities. She was going to race, and win. And if she wasn't going to win, she was going to place third at the very least. This is what you wanted, she reminded herself determinedly. Don't let anything get in your way. You're going to become a racer, one of the best street racers in this city, and-

Y/n smacked headlong into a wall of something tall and warm. Letting out an unceremonious oof, she stepped back, rubbing her forehead. Her boot caught on a stray crack in the asphalt and she tumbled backwards, landing with a thud on her ass. A low, amused chuckle came from above her.

"Should watch where you're going, sweetheart."

Squinting upwards, and huffing (half in embarrassment, half in pain- her ass really hurt...) Y/n blinked up at the obstruction that she'd run into.

A really hot obstruction.

An obstruction dressed in a racing suit of black and red leather, and with dark hair swept back over his forehead. Several strands hung down, striping his forehead, slick with sweat. He held a large, veiny hand out to her. Y/n noticed a thick, silver chain encircling his wrist.

Suddenly realising that she looked like an idiot, and was probably staring, she reached for the man's hand. It was surprisingly warm, and he was surprisingly strong; he hoisted her onto her feet without much effort. Dusting herself off and trying not to wince at the pain in her tailbone, Y/n looked up at him.

He was a little taller than she was, with sharp, angular features dripping with charming appeal. Dark eyeshadow dusted the edges of his eyes, and a neat slit ran through his left eyebrow. His hair was black as night, sheened in blue and white shades with the glinting cars and the floodlights above. His plump, pink lips curved into a smirk as he let go of her hand. Y/n hadn't even realised he'd been holding it. Her heart leapt in her chest.

"This isn't a place for little girls."

His voice was deep, rich and accented; Australian, maybe? She couldn't tell. Frowning up at him, she fired back.

"I'm not a little girl. I'm a racer."

The man leaned the wall, heavy boots tapping against the asphalt. He grinned wolfishly. "No?"

Y/n pursed her lips. "I came here to race. I'm one of the rookies listed for tonight," her voice faded off slightly at the end, a little unsure. Should she really be telling this super hot guy who she was and what she was doing?

But he only smirked again, exhaling a chuckle through his nose.

"Do you know who I am, sweetheart?"

Y/n bit her lip. She didn't.

"No," she said truthfully. Realigning her moral compass, she straightened her back and glared at him. "And don't call me that."

He sighed and stepped forwards, hands clasped behind his back. He began to advance towards her; Y/n stumbled back. Her foot met a step of some sort and she kept retreating anyway, not wanting to take her eyes off him. His gaze sent a chill of sudden fear through her. He was looking at her as if she were a particularly helpless animal he was about to pounce on.

Y/n gulped. A rush of fear, adrenaline... and something else.

The sudden feeling of cool metal meeting her lower back made Y/n stop in her tracks. Glancing sideways, she realised she'd been backed up against the man's car; though she was afraid, she couldn't help but notice how sleek and beautiful the car was, a shiny black body with wings, and red stripes lining the sides.

Attempting to move sideways, Y/n ran her hand along the low window frame, feeling her way around. The man noticed and placed his forearms on the car either side of her, caging her in. His fingers curled around her wrists, squeezing lightly. He leaned in, smelling of something woodsy and spicy. The boy-smell of gunmetal, leather, and smoke filled her nostrils, an intoxicating yet subtle wave of fumes. She fought the urge to inhale deeply, instead looking the man right in the eyes. Which was difficult.

"Leave me alone," she stuttered, cursing herself inwardly.

He chuckled again, tilting his head. "I've never seen you here before. One of the rookies, huh? They don't tend to fare well in the racing scene. Most quit after the first race. But maybe you're different, sweetheart."

Y/n glared at him, suddenly feeling brazen. Perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through her veins, but she rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Do you usually pin girls to your car without introducing yourself, or is this a one-time thing? Because I'd very much like you to let go of me."

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. A cocky smirk lifted one corner of his mouth.

"I'm Bang Christopher Chan. One of the best racers in the underground circuits, and the best in this city. I know this place like the back of my hand, but I didn't know a sassy princess would be the one standing in my way tonight," he grinned, almost devilishly. "and your name is..?"

"Y/n," she replied, not sure what else to say. She ignored the compliment, feigning an unimpressed expression.

Chan chuckled, a deep, breathy sound. "Well, Y/n, let's see how you race tonight. Shall we make a deal?"

Y/n tilted her head, raising her eyebrows. "Oh?"

Chan's eyes darken competitively. "Let's see if you're made of the real stuff. You beat me in the next race, and I'll get you a car. Whichever model you want."

Y/n's jaw dropped slightly. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's the catch?"

Chan lifted a calloused fingertip and ran it along the side of her jaw unexpectedly, seemingly admiring her features. "No catch. I'd like to see what you're made of. Unless you're scared?"

Y/n scowled before contemplating the offer. If she wanted this, she needed a proper car. And she didn't have the money to buy one yet. Taking Chan's offer, winning the race, and getting a car of her choice would be a massive help. But she still felt skeptical.

"Why are you doing this?"

Chan smirked. "Not sure. I'm not usually this nice. Look, the next race starts in 20 minutes. Is it a yes or no to the deal, princess?"

Silence. Chan let go of her wrists, holding out his right hand to shake. Y/n slowly lifted her hand, placing it in his. The heat from his hand rushed up her arm and into her bloodstream, and the cool metal of his chain link bracelet brushed her fingertips, making her shudder in a haze of delicious heat and ice. Pulling her hand back, she gazed determinedly at Chan, who only smirked, inclining his head.

"You're on."

a/n: whew! likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated. lmk what you guys think of the first chapter!

IM SO EXCITED FOR YHE NEW SERIES EEEEK CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHP

ahahah thank you!! glad you're enjoying it <3

hello! just read your chan helping reader on their period post, it was so good, could you do one for changbin too? would be amazing <3

yayyy second request ! glad you liked the chan version, love 🤍

he comforts you on your period - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

summary: you're struggling with your period and changbin helps you out

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, comfort, cramps and period pain, reader has a period, slight suggestiveness

a/n: comments are appreciated <3

You're curled up on the couch, a thick blanket draped over your body. It cocoons you completely, providing a bubble of intoxicating heat and warmth that seeps pleasantly into your bones. You've been feeling sleepy all day but the drowsiness isn't enough to distract you from the constant, thrumming pain in your abdomen.

Shifting slightly to the left, you turn just enough to look out the living room window. It's clouded with fog, frosting the glass and making the outside world seem far, far away. It rained earlier, a few hours before you and Changbin had gotten up. You'd spent the morning talking in bed, laughing and sharing stories, and adoring each other (in more ways than one).

You'd been perfectly fine through all of that, up until Changbin had kissed your forehead and gotten dressed to go to the gym. You'd protested and whined about it, arguing that there was no reason to go work out this early in the morning, and that skipping one gym session wouldn't hurt. Especially in this weather. It was freezing.

He'd simply laughed and peppered a few more kisses to your face before quickly cooking you breakfast and leaving. You hadn't managed to eat it, though- as soon as you had left the bed, your phone rang. You'd been taking several phone calls from work for about half an hour, casually ignoring the faint, dull warning thuds in your stomach, signalling that your period was about to start. Instead of resting or at least warming up a heat pad, you'd gotten around to doing chores while on the phone with your boss. You figured that there was no harm in doing two things at once. If anything, it meant that stuff got done.

Determination had taken a firm hold of your senses, and you aspired to have finished most of the chores while on the phone. As you worked, you began to realise it was a bad idea; your stomach was beginning to throb, and you couldn't focus on what your boss was saying. The pain in your abdomen spread all the way down to your toes, making it difficult to do anything more than stand stiffly and wash the dishes, your shoulder propping your phone to you ear.

As soon as you had ended the last call, you sat down hastily. The cramps were beginning to set in now and it was too late to take medication. Even if you had taken a few painkillers, it would have taken an hour or so to set in, and you didn't have that kind of time. There was work to be done and you wanted everything to be done before Changbin got back.

Of course, no such luck.

Now you lay on the sofa, having had no more strength to do anything but pull out the biggest, fluffiest blanket you could find, and collapse into the cushions like a ragdoll. It was comfier than expected, despite the throbbing pain in your gut, but it didn't do much to alleviate it. All you could do now was push your way through it. Or you could call Changbin.

But you knew how much he loved his workouts, how much he loved pushing himself to do better. You knew it was unreasonable to be thinking like this, but you couldn't help but feel that he deserved a morning to himself undisturbed.

Yeah, no. If i have to go another minute without painkillers-

Pulling out your phone from under the thick folds of blanket, you clicked on Changbin's contact, waiting for him to pick up. It rung three times before he answered. The sounds of clanking, chatter, and faint workout music sounded from the speaker of your phone. Changbin's voice came through crisp and clear.

"Hey, bunny," he sounded breathless.

"Hi," you whispered, suddenly feeling guilty.

There was a pause.

"Bunny, you okay? What's wrong?"

You shifted to the left again, hip jerking suddenly as a particularly painful cramp shot through your abdomen, needle-sharp.

"Can- can you come home? My period started and-"

There was a heavy clank from the other side of the phone, followed by a hiss and a groan from Changbin. You fought the urge to smile. You'd heard that sound many, many times when he'd been working out at home. It was usually followed by Changbin's characteristic whining as you pressed an icepack to his foot, carefully and gingerly shifting the weight he'd dropped on himself to the side. His dramatic sigh sounded through the speaker.

"Why didn't you call me as soon as you started?"

You whine. "I didn't want to disturb you, I know you like working out uninterrupted-"

"Bunny, that's no excuse. I'm your boyfriend, it's my job to know about this, okay? I'm coming home."

"But-"

"No buts. I'll stop by the store to get snacks. We can have a day in, yeah?"

You bite your lip. "I can always try and get up-"

"Nononononono, don't do that. I'll be there soon, okay? We can eat and cuddle and watch a movie," his enthusiastic tone floated through the living room, making your mouth lift up at the corners.

"Binnie, are you sure?"

He laughs, "Of course I'm sure."

You smile freely then, feeling a fresh surge of affection and love wash over you, momentarily dulling the aching, cramping pains in your abdomen.

"I love you, Binnie."

"I love you too, bunny. Now, what ice cream do you want?"

a/n: requests are open !

the fast lane : masterlist

Pairing: bangchan x reader x felix

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

Warnings: illegal street racing, skz racer!au, chan and felix (yep that's a warning), more warnings will be added as the series progresses !

part one : the bet

part two : the lollipop

part three : porcelain and gold

part four : unexpected contact

the fast lane : part 2 (bangchan x reader x felix)

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

Warnings: skz racer!au, fluff, mentions of blood, injuries, passing out (very light stuff tho, nothing detailed), angsty reader hours, wc 3.3k

series masterlist

part 2 : the lollipop

Y/n stormed into the backstage area, whipping around on her heel and slamming the two-way door shut behind her. The doorframe creaked as she slid down against it. Frustrated, angry tears burned in her eyes.

Retrieving the second-hand helmet tucked under her arm, she tossed it across the dimly lit room. It landed with a quiet clunk onto the floor, rolling a few metres away before coming to rest against the leg of an old, worn-out, leather sofa.

Y/n groaned and slid further down the doorframe, limp hair mussing in tangles against the wood of the door. Her back hurt from the awkward position and her leather suit chafed uncomfortably against her sweat-slicked skin, but she couldn't have cared less.

A few hot tears spilled down her cheeks, adding to the wet saltiness of her face and jawline. Squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as she possibly could, Y/n attempted to forget the memory. Making the deal with Chan, the best street racer in the city. Being so overconfident and sassy to him, positive she'd place a win, only to have spun out in the last few seconds of the race. She kicked herself mentally. How she have gotten so confident? She was a mere rookie, a beginner in the racing scene. And yet she had had the guts to pretend like she was one of THEM, dressed in an expensive, tailored racing suit, with a flashy, colorful car and a personal pit crew at the ready to respond to every whim and command.

On top of all of that, she couldn't believe she had accepted the deal wit Chan. She should have turned it down and made a name for herself. She should have let him know that she could stand on her own two feet, and that she could become one of them. It was likely, she realised, that if she had won and accepted a choice of racecar from Chan, he would have used it against her as leverage in every possible scenario. Y/n was disgusted at her gullibility and eagerness. She'd gotten so hasty that she'd forgotten all the implications and consequences that came with attempting to become a street racer.

As soon as her car had pulled to the side, Y/n had thrown open the rusty car door and fled to the backstage room, shoving through the crowd in her haste. The jeers and whooping from the other racers, coupled with the burning embarrassment and the cheers for the racer who'd actually won accumulated and swirled around her in a thick fog of shame, pathetic self-pity, and hopelessness, seeping into her bones and taking hold of her senses till it seemed that failure was woven into every single fibre of her being.

She couldn't shake the images from her mind. Chan, standing at the winner's podium, surrounded by adoring fans, raising a fist in blazing triumph. The almost sympathetic look he'd given her as she'd fled the arena. The steely glare and the tuts from the maintenance crew she'd paid for the night. The consistent, nagging feeling that she shouldn't have tried, shouldn't have gone further than simply entertaining the thought of being a street racer.

More than that, she felt humiliated.

Curling her knees to her chest, Y/n buried her face between them, inhaling the stale scent of leather and sweat. Everything was a colossal mess. If she was lucky, then maybe the universe would crack open beneath her feet and swallow her up in thick, molten rivers of lava and fiery tongues of flame. It would be better than having to face the entire arena of racers who had watched her lose her first race. Better than having to walk out, head hung in shame. She could already hear the taunts and jeers, though if they were from the racers milling around outside the backstage area or her own brain, she wasn't sure.

Look, it's that overconfident rookie!

She really thought she could win against Chan... what a joke...

If she's smart, she won't come back here.

The two-way door against Y/n's back suddenly swung open, sending her tumbling to the floor. Her head hit the dirty linoleum with an unpleasant thud. The world spun and she groaned, eyes shut. Hands flying to the sides of her head, she slowly opened her eyes, wincing. She could see two legs and the top of a pair of combat boots, all sheathed in dark, shiny leather, and further up-

Oh shit!

Flying bolt upright, Y/n turned and profusely apologized to the man standing in the doorway. Her knees hurt from the speed at which she'd whipped around on them but she ignored it, still blinded by the dazing pain in her head. Her cheeks flushed bright scarlet.

The man raised an eyebrow, pulling out something thin and white from between his lips. Y/n blinked, thinking it was a cigarette, but upon closer inspection, she could see the thin, white stick of a lollipop. He poked it back into his mouth, sucking on it thoughtfully. He didn't seem even mildly put out by the fact that Y/n had been staring up his crotch just a few moments earlier.

He was quite handsome, too. Maybe even a bit more than Chan. Somewhere in the subconscious realm of her thoughts, Y/n realised that the pretty yet staunch man in the doorway must have gotten used to being stared at. Whether it was by Y/n lying between his legs from where she'd fallen or by the other attractive girls out in the arena, he had the air of someone who had such beauty that there was no need to flaunt it.

Damn it, are all the male racers here attractive or what?

Y/n's frantic apologies faded off unsurely into the air as she stared back up at the man. She was on her knees, half-crouched, hands in front of her. She must have been frantically explaining and apologising for at least a minute now, but he hadn't said a word.

If anything, he looked intrigued.

They stared at each other a few minutes; Y/n's miserable, frantic, pleading expression contradicting his steady, sure gaze. Y/n finally collected her thoughts enough to actually look at him. He was very pretty at first sight, but up close Y/n could see faint white scars flecking his forearms, hands, and neck, as if something, or someone had scratched him. His eyes were dark and chocolatey, complementing the silky waves of purplish mahogany falling freely over his forehead, swept into a neat part in the middle. His mouth was a perfect, pink pout, glossy and rosy in the middle where he'd shifted the lollipop between them.

His outfit was a bit like Chan's but more casual, stylish shirtsleeves rolled to his arms and leather pants and boots, all in the same, intimidating shade of black. There was a large, abstract cutout in the shirt to the right side of his chest. A heavy silver chain and a wide- leather belt studded with tiny diamonds looped around his waist elegantly, framing his form.

Crouching before this absolute model of a man, Y/n felt like a common street urchin. Her mind wandered a little, and so did her eyes. But he still hadn't said anything. Y/n was beginning to wonder why he'd come into the room in the first place. Maybe to put her out of her misery. Attempting to speak, she cleared her throat.

"U-uhm..." Her voice came out thick, raw and croaky from crying. She clenched her fists and looked down suddenly, feeling a fresh wave of humiliated tears fill her eyes. He would mock her for sure.

"Hey, kid."

Y/n's head snapped up. His voice was soft and clear. Precise and measured. It wasn't like Chan's voice. Not at all. It was a little accented, but it was lovely. Pretty, almost.

Y/n tried to speak, willing her voice not to wobble. It came out quieter than she'd expected, a barely audible whisper. "Yes?"

"You're absolutely shit at racing, you know that?"

Y/n blinked, her misery temporary halted by the unexpectedly blunt statement. The man continued.

"That last turn was ass. Surely you can do better. You've got the skills, I can tell, but your reflexes need work."

Y/n gaped, dumbfounded. Who was this guy, waltzing into the room and critiquing her so bluntly? He looked like a proper racer, but still, there was no need to be so harsh about it. Y/n sighed and looked down, having come up with no retort to throw back in the man's face. She remained crouching, resigned to her fate.

She heard a small sigh from above here before a hand reached down, wrapping around her right bicep. It was gentle, but enough to lift Y/n to her feet. Firm, but not enough to hurt. His hand was quite large, rippled with veins, the knuckles a bit too big for the fingers. It was a pretty hand nonetheless, the skin smooth and tanned, and Y/n felt a small surge of thankful heat pool in her stomach at the unexpected, almost caring gesture.

Her knees throbbed faintly as she straightened herself. The man's grip on her arm loosened, but remained hovering uncertainly near, as if he was afraid she was going to fall. And in all honesty, Y/n did feel as if her legs were about to give out.

She stuttered a little as she spoke, her consciousness floating about her like a foggy daze. "T-thanks."

He tilted his head at her curiously. "Have you ever raced before? In a proper circuit?"

Unprepared for the direct question, Y/n averted his gaze, cheeks flushing. "No, I- tonight was my first time."

It must have been the adrenaline and the exhaustion surging through her body, but Y/n flushed even darker as she spoke, although her response carried no connotation whatsoever.

If he noticed, he didn't call her out on it, simply settling to fiddle with the lollipop stick still in his mouth. He let his hand fall from her arm back to his side, but it soon came back up to unexpectedly cradle the side of Y/n's head. She flinched at the surprising gesture, anticipating a hit from the racer, but he simply let his hand curve gently around the nape of her neck. He looked suddenly concerned and mildly put out.

"Did you know you've hurt yourself, by the way?"

Y/n blinked. She hadn't been previously aware of any injury on her body, but now that he had mentioned it, the back of her head stung a little, where her hairline met the soft skin of her neck. And she felt dazed, like she was floating...

Her hand came up to shakily press the back of her head, feeling for any sort of injury. When her fingertips met her nape, she felt a searing, white-hot shock of pain.

Her knees gave out and the racer was quick enough to dart forward, taking the brunt of the fall. He awkwardly looped his arm around Y/n's waist, holding her upright, and moved to sit her down on the flaking faux leather of the worn-out couch.

The world spun dizzyingly around her before going black.

~

Y/n woke to something cool and wet being pressed onto her forehead. Groaning weakly, she tensed her shoulders, testing her range of movement. She recognized the ceiling as being the backstage area; she must have remained in the same position on the couch after passing out.

A gentle, lulling hum came from her side. She turned her head to the right and saw the purplish-haired man from earlier, pressing a cool compress to her forehead. She exhaled heavily, eyes feeling baggy and tired. Closing her eyes, Y/n listened to the soft melody of the man's voice floating throughout the room. Her neck still hurt, but felt as if something had been wrapped around it; she figured a bandage of some sort. Weakly lifting her hand, she could faintly see specks of dried blood from where she'd previously touched her neck.

That confirmed her suspicions. She'd passed out because of the injury. Either that, or the exhaustion.

The man beside her poked her cheek, gently and not unkindly. A low chuckle came above her.

"Took you long enough,"

Y/m smiled, a watery, poor affair. Turning her head a little more, and wincing at the pain in her nape, she locked eyes with him.

"What time is it?"

He hummed. "Around two am. You passed out for a couple hours. Looked like your body could do with the rest, so I didn't wake you up," he paused his ministrations, gazing at her again with that deep, intense, yet gentle stare. "Did you have somewhere to be?"

Y/n shook her head minutely, pushing herself upright into a sitting position. She felt weak and boneless.

"I should go home," her voice trailed off, exhausted.

He looked up, mildly confused. "Home? I don't think you'd even make it out the door."

Y/n groaned. "Enough with the sassy comments. I'm going. Thank you for taking care of me-"

He stood suddenly, putting a hand on her shoulder. His gaze was almost fierce, stubborn, protective. Like an older brother.

"You're not going home like this. Let me drive you."

Y/n shook her head wildly, immediately regretting it. The throbbing in her head subsided as she pressed her palms to her temples.

"It's fine," attempting to stand, Y/n moved towards the door, shakily and slowly. Her legs felt like they were made of rubber bands.

The man watched her, unimpressed. Moving towards her, he offered his arm with a sigh.

"Just take it. I'll drive you home."

Exasperated, Y/n glared up at him. "I don't even know you. You could be a murderer."

He scoffed in return, rolling his eyes. "No murderer is this attractive. Look, just take my arm. You walked here, right? So that means you don't live far away-"

Y/n interrupted him, a little panicked at his observational skills. "How did you know I walked here?"

"I saw you earlier, before the race. No motorbike, or skateboard, or car. Looking around the arena like a little kid seeing a plane in the sky. Mouth open and everything."

At this, Y/n smacked him on the shoulder, scoffing at his comparison. He didn't even budge, Y/n's hit doing nothing to move him. He simply took her arm, a little more insistently, and steered her towards the door.

It took about five minutes of back and forth arguing and half-hearted bickering before Y/n finally allowed the racer to drive her home.

I haven't got much left to lose anyway, she thought glumly.

She was led to the back end of the arena, where a little dark hallway opened into the street by a creaky door. A narrow, dark, alleyway gaped at the left side of the street, and the man walked her towards it, making sure not to jostle her.

The night was dark and quiet, everything still and silent. The yellow glow of the streetlights cast abstract patterns of light onto the glistening road, soaked with rain. It must have poured down while she was blacked out. She could still hear the faint pumping of hip-hop music and the occasional rev of a car in the arena behind her.

The man led her into the alleyway, softly pointing out objects for her to move around, and kicking stray cans and rocks out of the way, lest she trip. He was surprisingly nice, considering the blunt comment he'd made about her racing earlier.

He led her to a Kawasaki motorbike, hidden behind a dumpster. It was beautiful, a sleek, dark vehicle with streaks of neon green highlighting the wheels and seat. He offered her a hand onto it and saddled himself onto the bike, revving the engine once. Y/n clung to the sides of the backseat, awkwardly hanging on. The racer took a helmet that had been concealed on top of an old AC unit and slipped it on, the big, dark shield masking his face. He flipped it up and turned to look at her questioningly.

"Well?" he said expectantly.

Y/n blinked.

He sighed. "Hold onto me. Otherwise you'll fall off and die."

Y/n rolled her eyes at his sarcastic comment. "It's fine, just drive."

She was met with a groan and another rev of the engine. He suddenly sped forward half a metre or so, then stopped suddenly. Y/n was thrown forward, crashing into his back. She gasped, arms flying to lock around his waist. She heard an amused chuckle and a click as the man flipped his face shield back down. Cheeks flushing rosy in her embarrassment, Y/n buried her face into his back, fisting the material of his dark shirtsleeves. She could feel the rush of seeping, intoxicating heat radiating into her from his back. Her arms instinctively tightened around him as he sped off.

The wind whooshed in her ears, whipping up her hair and causing a deafening rush of noise to settle around her as the motorbike sped into the night. Y/n tugged on the left side of his shirt, signalling him to go left. He picked up on it without a single hint of doubt or hesitation and Y/n fought a smile, eyes closed as she pressed her cheek into his back, and continued to tug on either the left or right side in order to direct him.

After about ten minutes of gentle tugging, the man pulled up in front of Y/n's apartment complex. The sky was beginning to lighten a little, though the deep glow of twilight still hung over the sky like a blanket.

Y/n awkwardly slipped off the motorbike, stumbling as she dismounted. The racer offered her his hand, but she'd already gotten off the bike. It hovered in the air, unsure, before dropping back to his side, pulling at the fabric of his leather pants, and then travelled back to the handlebars, gripping them tightly. He then turned to her, flipping his shield up, then pausing before taking it off entirely. His hair fell in a mussed mess around his forehead, slightly fluffy. Somehow, Y/n liked it better that way. It looked more raw, more real.

More perfect.

When he spoke, it was quiet. Quiet but gentle, but loud enough to float around the both of them, ringing in the early morning. He cleared his throat hesitantly, as if Y/n was an animal he was trying not to spook.

"I- uh, I wasn't planning to murder you, if that's what you're worried about..."

Y/n laughed unexpectedly at the statement; the sound rung out loud and clear, lighting up the sky. It felt glorious to be defying the silence that hung in the atmosphere, thick as fog on a stormy day. Like sunshine breaking through the clouds.

"Good to know," she giggled. "Um, thanks for the ride."

He simply nodded in acknowledgement, hand fiddling with the edge of the Kawasaki's windshield. The sleek, black helmet was tucked awkwardly under his arm.

Y/n turned to go, before pausing suddenly. Spinning on her heel, she thoughtfully looked at the man. He hadn't moved, simply watching her. Waiting. But it wasn't threatening or ominous in the least. It was protective, reliable. Like he was frozen, his dark, pretty eyes fixed on her own.

Y/n's voice was soft, almost hesitant. "I never got your name..."

The man smiled. Pushed his fringe out of his eyes, readjusted the helmet under his arm. The dawning light behind him illuminated his outline, all sharp, sleek angles and edges. He chuckled lightly, more airy, light exhale than sound.

"Minho."

a/n: likes, comments, reblogs appreciated !

hello 🤗 saw that yours reqs are open and i was thinking about a anxious reader that can't sleep and is tired and changbin calming and lulling them to sleep

hello lovely anon ! ooo this is a good request. i didn't know if you wanted reader to be feeling anxious about something in particular, so i just did general worry and anxiety. enjoy <3

insomnia - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

summary: you're struggling to fall asleep due to anxiety, but changbin is there to help.

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, comfort, reader struggles to fall asleep, mentions of anxiety, slight mentions of a panic attack

a/n: comments are appreciated <3

The night is cold.

Everything is perfect; outside is quiet, immured in the sheath of a late-night sky, there's no traffic outside the apartment, and the lights inside are off. The bedroom is dark, and at the perfect temperature. The hum of the AC sends cooling waves of chilly air over the room, contrasting with the warm duvet.

But you can't sleep.

Tossing onto your side for the fifth time, you huff frustratedly and almost whack Changbin in the process as you shift. He's fast asleep next to you, his face lit only by the dimmed purple and green lights emitting from the gaming setup in the corner. The bedsheets are tangled round his bulky frame, muscly arms splayed over your waist. His jet-black hair fans out messily against the stark white of the pillow. His mouth is slightly open, and he's lost in the deep, dreamless sleep of the utterly exhausted. He'd had a massive day at work, and had come home late at night and gone straight to sleep after quickly eating. He hadn't moved since collapsing onto the bed.

In the dim lights, you can just barely see him, and you pause to gaze at his face, highlighted in muted tones of violet and lime green. He looks so relaxed, so at peace.

You wish you could feel the same way.

Your brain is wide-awake, but you feel absolutely shattered. The anxiety and worry gnawing at the lining of your stomach isn't helping much either. A million thoughts race through your head, swirling and zooming and cluttering your mind. The storm rages and thunders until all you can hear is the deafening rush of your worries drowning you in a tidal wave of uneasiness and apprehension.

Turning to lie on your back, you gently pry Changbin's arm off your waist, laying it carefully by his side. You trace a little pattern on his arm before pulling away and clenching your hand in a fist by your side. The last thing you want to do right now is wake him up.

Blinking to try and clear your mind, you try to think of a logical solution to your worries. But it's like your rationality has ceased to exist, throwing you further into the raging storm. No matter what you do, it doesn't feel like it'd help at all. You think you've run through almost every possible but useless solution to your problem by the time the LED clock on the bedside table hits midnight. Nothing is working, nothing will help.

Exhaling harshly through your nose, you throw off the duvet and shiver as your bare feet hit the cold floor. You tuck the blanket into the crook of Changbin's arm so he doesn't feel your absence in his sleep. You hear him grunt softly in his sleep and tug the blanket closer.

Once you're sure he won't wake up, you creep to the window and sit down on the floor, leaning against the wall. The night is cool and serene, and you close your eyes, envisioning yourself becoming part of the night sky, a symbol of peace and tranquility. You shiver again, more intensely this time, as the cold begins to seep into your bones beneath your thin nightclothes. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you take a shaky breath, trying to keep it together.

Why can't I just fall asleep? Why can't I stop worrying?

The more you question yourself, the more your anxiety increases. It peaks and takes a firm hold of your mind, gripping it and squeezing until all that is left is a mess of uncontrollable chaos and jumbled thoughts. You don't even realise when your breathing begins to speed up and you cover your mouth, desperately trying not to make noise. The storm thunders wildly in your head, pounding and raging, and you feel yourself falling into the deep abyss, perhaps forever. Never to be found again, like a sinking stone at the bottom, of a deep, dark, cold, lonely ocean.

It's too much it's too much it's too much-

You feel a pair of strong, warm arms wrap around your torso. You gasp like you've been lifted out of the ocean you were drowning in. Changbin's arms are a life ring, floating you back upwards, helping you break the surface with a heavy, gasping breath that makes you slump into his chest with a choked sob.

"Binnie," you cry weakly, clinging to him.

He shushes you gently, rocking back and forth with you in his arms. His big, warm hand rubs soothing circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, hushing you and carefully bringing you down from the panic.

He keeps gently rocking like that, and you close your eyes against his chest, relishing his warmth. Your tears stain salty tracks down your face and seep into the material of his shirt, but Changbin doesn't mind. He kisses your forehead lightly and whispers an "i love you" in your ear before picking you up gently and taking you to bed. The warmth of the bedsheets and the heat from Changbin's body as he tucks you into his chest slowly lull you to sleep.

The storm finally settles.

a/n: for anyone who has anxiety or similar conditions, feel better ! i tried to write this as accurately as possible, and i based the panic attack off a personal experience i had. everyone's different but i hope this helped. thank you anon <3

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

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

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

omg how about artist!reader trying to teach changbin how to paint/draw, would be so cute!! idk but when i draw i love to make au of me with my friends, like spidersonas, or tlou yk? do as you wish 💥

hey anon ! i love this, as an artist myself i would be so excited to teach any of skz how to draw/paint (aside from hyunjin ofc, he's so great at it lol) here you go love <3

sunflower - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

summary: you decide to try and teach changbin how to paint

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, crack, reader is the artsy type, changbin tries his best lol

a/n: comments are appreciated <3

"Binnie, that's not how you hold the paintbrush-"

"But I like holding it like this!"

You sigh and fight a smile as you reach across and attempt to adjust Changbin's grip on the paintbrush. He's holding it in his fist, all his fingers curled around it, a bit like the way a murderer would hold a knife.

Hopefully he doesn't end up trying to stab anything with it, you think. That brush was really expensive.

Changbin whines as you take the brush out of his grip and show him how to hold it, swiping a few experimental strokes of red against his canvas.

"Like this," you say, handing it back to him.

He pouts but does as you say, attempting to swipe across the canvas just like you showed him. He manages to get the hang of it, his eyes widening. He laughs, the sound bright and surprised.

You laugh. "It works better like that, doesn't it?"

The bedroom floor is scattered with canvases, watercolour paint palettes, a box full of mismatched acrylic paint tubes, and various other artists' paraphernalia. You had pulled out the box of all your art stuff from the cupboard earlier, intending to paint for the afternoon. Changbin, who was bored, had coaxed you into letting him join you.

Now you both sat in the dappled sunlight filtering into the bedroom from the large window. The light cast a mahogany glow over the floor and the mess of various paints and watercolours seemed to reflect their bright colours onto the far wall in haphazard, colourful strokes and patterns. You and Changbin had a large canvas each, set and propped against the bed. Subconsciously, you realised too late that it might not be a good idea to paint near the bedsheets, but Changbin didn't seem to mind, so you let it go.

Your canvas was covered in varying shades of pastel greens, browns and yellows, a bouquet of sunflowers tied with a red ribbon. You were quite proud of it, having spent about an hour painting each individual petal of the sunflowers. It looked great.

Or better than Changbin's, at any rate.

His canvas was a mess of vibrant blues and pinks, two messy stick figures in the middle painted in thick strokes of black. One was taller than the other, and you smiled at his messy depiction. A drip of blue paint hit the floor, followed by a drop of pink. He'd put so much paint on his canvas it was all beginning to slide off. You hurriedly set your brush down and adjusted his canvas to lie down on the floor to prevent any more mess. Sitting up on your knees, you surveyed his canvas. Tilting your head, you looked at the man sitting beside you.

"What is it?" you asked gently, so as not to upset him.

Changbin grinned, a smear of pink on his cheek curving upwards as he smiled. He kissed your temple, then looked down at his work, obviously very proud. He laughed.

"It's us."

a/n: we love artist changbin ✊

Hellooo!! I say your requests open and wanted to ask a changbin fluff basically remember the interview where he said he only uses body lotion on his face and the others were disguised? I want him to be in a relationship with the reader and for the reader to show him a few skincare products and do it in him xd the girlfriend effect is reall

that interview made me laugh so hard lol. the others' faces were priceless. also, i don't have a particular order for reader's skincare routine so yea. here you go, anon <3

lotion - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

summary: you're doing your skincare, and decide to try it on changbin too

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, crack, skincare stuff, changbin tries to eat hand cream, not proofread please don't come for me

a/n: changbin, if you're reading this, please, for the love of stay, get rid of the body lotion

"Binnie, please don't eat that.."

"But it smells so good!"

You sigh for the fifth time and swipe the bottle of strawberry-scented hand cream out of Changbin's grip. He whines and flops onto the bathroom counter before climbing onto it completely. He plops down and surveys you, your face glowing with different products under the bathroom lights. You pick up your intense moisturizer and begin rubbing it into your skin gently. Changbin watches in fascination and slight irritation.

"Bunny, you do this every night," he whines. "Why can't you just skip it and go straight to bed?'

You sigh before picking up your acne cream and dotting it over your face.

"Because I want my skin to look really good."

Changbin pokes your cheek, smearing some of the cream. He surveys his fingertip with slight wariness before wiping it back onto your face with a grin. He doesn't respond this time, having given up n trying to persuade you to skip your skincare routine for the night.

Come to think of it, you haven't really seen your boyfriend using many skin products. While your side of the counter is scattered with different bottles, serums, and face creams, his side has hardly anything. Just a bottle of moisturizer, his shaving stuff, and his toothbrush. You glance at the bottle of his moisturizer before picking up your antibacterial facial serum. Focusing on your reflection, you lean closer to the mirror and carefully dispense a few drops of the serum onto each cheek. Changbin blinks in confusion.

"What's that for?"

You chuckle before setting the bottle down and using gentle motions to rub the serum into your skin.

"It's to stop breakouts on my skin," you pick up the bottle and show him, grinning devilishly as an idea pops into your head. "Do you want some?"

-

Ten minutes later, you've finally coaxed Changbin off the counter. You're now sitting in his spot, and he's standing between your legs, looking up at your face as you rub multiple different products into his skin (with some difficulty).

"Binnie, stop moving, you're going to spill it everywhere-"

"The body lotion works just fine though-"

You bonk him gently on the head with the tube of scented face cream you're using. A giggle escapes your mouth as you readjust the fluffy pink cosmetics headband on his head. Picking up the serum you were using earlier, you begin dispensing it onto his cheeks, rubbing it into the skin. He sighs and closes his eyes, his previous complaints forgotten. Setting the glass dispenser and bottle onto the counter with a small clink, you reach down to pull open one of the drawers and pull out a tube of chapstick.

Uncapping the tube, you carefully twist the bottom before applying it to Changbin's mouth. He pouts exaggeratedly, making a stupid face, and you laugh, leaning backwards.

Several things happen very fast.

Your head hits the mirror behind you with a small thud, making your hands fly to the back of your head. Changbin's hands go to your head too, concerned, checking you over for injury. You're both still laughing until you lose balance and grip the edge of the counter to steady yourself, knocking over Changbin's singular bottle of body lotion onto the tiled floor. The lid snaps off with a dull crack and the bottle bounces across the tiles, sending reverberating sounds echoing through the bathroom, mixing with your laughter. You stop laughing suddenly, smile fading.

The moisturizer is everywhere.

Changbin throws his head back and cackles. Some specks of the lotion have made its way onto his face, and onto yours too. There's a massive, sticky, vanilla-scented, puddly mess splattered over the tiles. Changbin turns to look at you.

"Oh, well," he says, still laughing. His eyes are crinkled at the corners.

You blink in shock. "I swear, Binnie, I didn't mean to- my hand, it just-"

Changbin cuts you off with another high-pitched laugh, smirking cheekily.

"Guess I'll have to use your lotion instead."

"No!"

a/n: comments, likes, reblogs appreciated <3