seungcheol + turning invisible

warnings: angst (with a happy ending though)

some people would kill for this superpower, you know. interestingly enough 'being invisible' turns up as an answer for the question about desired superpowers often enough for people to count you lucky. it's dumb, you think. everyone wants to be able to be invisible, but you know they'd hate it the second they actually turn invisible. it may sound fun, but in reality it's something you wish you never had especially on days like this one. when your haven't even tuned into your power and yet people seem to not see you anyway.

Neglect

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Minho

Caregiver: Jisung

Prompts:

March whumpness 2025: 4 blood sugar, 26 hiding an injury/unseen injury @marchwhumpness

Whumpril 2025: 5 neglect, 10 bandages, alt 8 silent tears @whumpril

Angstpril 2025: 6 Holding back tears, 13 hiding their pain, 26 accident, 27 giving everything they've got @angstpril

The Anchor in His Storm

Choi Seungcheol (S.Coups) x Reader

Genre: Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Established Relationship

The practice room was unbearably silent.

Not because things were peaceful, but because exhaustion had stolen the members’ voices, their energy drained from the past week of relentless schedules.

Seungcheol stood in the center, fists clenched. His eyes swept over his members, his brothers, who were sitting on the floor, sweat dripping, chests heaving, bodies barely holding themselves up.

And yet, the company had just sent word: More practice. Another hectic week ahead. No breaks.

“Let’s run it again,” Seungcheol forced out, though his voice lacked its usual fire.

No one moved.

Joshua rubbed his face tiredly. “Bro… we can’t.”

Seungcheol exhaled sharply, his frustration simmering. “We have to. We don’t have a choice.”

Jeonghan, lying flat on the floor, opened one eye. “You mean you don’t have a choice. You’re forcing yourself to push through this, and we all know why.”

Silence.

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened. “I'm the leader. If I stop—”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Jeonghan interrupted.

The words struck something deep in Seungcheol’s chest. But before he could respond, a voice suddenly cut through the tension—

“Hyung, I’m calling Y/N.”

Seungcheol’s head snapped up as Seokmin held up his phone, already ringing.

“Don’t—”

Too late.

The call connected, and your sleepy voice filled the room. “Huh? Seokmin? What’s going on?”

Seungcheol swallowed. He hadn’t spoken to you all day, hadn’t even had time to breathe properly and now, now, he was seconds away from breaking.

“Y/N?” Seokmin handed the phone to Seungcheol.

For a moment, he hesitated.

But the second he heard you softly call his name, “Cheol?” the dam inside him cracked.

His fingers curled around the phone, grip tightening. “Baby…” His voice wavered, his exhaustion evident.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, concern lacing your tone.

Seungcheol’s throat burned. He had held everything in for so long, had been strong for everyone, but hearing you, his safe place, shattered every wall he had built.

“They won’t let us rest,” he finally admitted, his voice raw. “We just finished a full week of schedules, and they want us to keep going. The guys are exhausted… and I—” His breath hitched. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

There was silence on the line. Then, you exhaled softly.

“Cheol,” you murmured, your voice a gentle balm to his frayed nerves. “You need to stop carrying this burden alone. Look at your members. They’re already giving their all for you. Now, let them take care of you, too.”

Seungcheol’s gaze flickered to the members, who were all watching him quietly.

Mingyu gave him a small nod. Jeonghan offered a lazy thumbs-up. Even Wonwoo, barely keeping his eyes open, muttered, “She’s right.”

Seungcheol closed his eyes, exhaling shakily.

You continued, “Baby, you’re human. You’re not invincible, and you don’t have to be.”

Something inside him broke. The weight on his shoulders, the exhaustion pressing against his ribs, all of it suddenly felt too much.

And for the first time in forever, Seungcheol let himself fall.

“I’m tired,” he whispered.

“I know,” you soothed. “So stop holding it in. Let them see that their leader is human, too.”

Seungcheol opened his eyes.

The members weren’t waiting for a command. They weren’t expecting him to be strong. They were just there, his family, standing beside him, ready to carry the weight together.

Slowly, Seungcheol exhaled.

“Let’s stop for today,” he finally said.

A collective sigh of relief filled the room. Seungcheol felt his own body relax as he sank onto the floor, resting his head against the wall.

Through the phone, you smiled. “Finish up and come straight to me.”

His breath hitched.

You lowered your voice, soft and warm. “I’ll make you feel better.”

Seungcheol shut his eyes for a moment, letting the comfort of your words settle deep in his bones.

“Yeah?” he murmured, the exhaustion in his voice now mixed with something lighter, something like hope.

“Yeah,” you promised. “Now get your ass here, leader-nim.”

For the first time in days, Seungcheol let out a real, genuine chuckle.

The members all exchanged looks, rolling their eyes. “Wow. That was fast,” Dino mumbled.

Jeonghan smirked. “And that, boys, is the power of love.”

Seungcheol ignored them, already grabbing his bag. “Alright, let’s clean up and leave.”

As the members moved sluggishly to gather their things, Seungcheol kept his phone close to his ear, (after giving back dk's phone, he asked you to call him instead so he can keep hearing your voice) listening to you talk about how you’d prepare his favorite meal, how you’d let him vent as much as he needed, how you’d hold him until he fell asleep.

And suddenly, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could breathe again.

Because no matter how heavy the burden, he had you.

And that was enough.

⚉ characters: theo x reader

⚉ wc: 3,4k

⚉ genre: fluff, established relationship, slight hurt/comfort,

⚉ theme: boyfriend!theo, partner!reader, idol!theo

⚉ warnings: food mentioned, discomfort (reader has a migraine), theo picks reader up in his arms, use of pet names

⚉ a/n: welcome or welcome back! This one was supposed to have different take but it went this way and I need to say, I am kinda glad it did. Also thank you so much for reading, leaving a heart or even reblogging - it means a lot to me! If you see any mistakes, please feel free to kindly correct me ♡

Monday, the start of a new week and also the start of your spring holidays. Normally, you don’t really care about holidays. Yes, it’s nice to sleep for as long as you want and not stress about school for a while, but this time you have some fun plans with your boyfriend that you’re excited about.

You two didn’t plan anything unusual—just some lunch and dinner dates at your home (so you can cook together), watch movies in the living room, and simply enjoy each other’s company. Many people would say that these are just normal things you do with your partner all the time, and they wouldn’t be wrong for saying that, but with you being in school and your boyfriend being an idol, these regular moments become extra special.

Him being an idol means he doesn’t have much free time, and when he does, it’s usually for a day or two, which he uses to rest—and you understand that, of course! But once in a blue moon, there’s an occasion where he has a full week off, and luckily, this time you are also free from your school duties.

That’s why the first thing you did in the morning when you woke up was to take painkillers. You felt a headache creeping up on you and didn’t want it to ruin one of the days you were supposed to spend with your boyfriend; that was a big no.

You took two Paracetamols, washed them down with some water, and finally continued with your morning routine in the bathroom. After you were done with everything, you came back to your room and changed out of your pajamas into some nice but comfy clothes. Then, you made your way out of your room and headed straight to the kitchen.

"Theo?" you stopped in your tracks when you spotted your boyfriend making scrambled eggs with bacon.

You weren’t surprised to see him in your kitchen—he had a key to your house—but you were surprised by the fact that he was already there and cooking. You thought he would arrive around lunchtime because he liked his beauty sleep, and when he knew he didn’t need to wake up for any schedule, he was able to sleep for more than ten hours straight.

Theo turned away from the kitchen counter to face you, and when he realized it was you, his eyes slightly widened. "Oh, you’re awake already?" he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. His voice had a hint of disappointment.

"Yeah?" Raising your eyebrows in confusion, you moved closer to him to check if he was truly cooking or if he was trying to hide a mess he might have made during the process of making breakfast; otherwise, why would he be shocked to see you awake? "Am I not supposed to be?"

"Well... no." He chuckled awkwardly. "I wanted to wake you up myself with breakfast I made for you. You know, like they always do in those romantic movies." He looked at you, his cheeks starting to take on a pink tint due to embarrassment.

Your eyes softened at his words, and you immediately closed the distance between you two so you could embrace him in a tight hug. All of this showing affection thing was still new to him. "I'm sorry I ruined your moment, but thank you so much. It’s very sweet of you." You moved away just enough to look at his face with a smile on your lips.

Theo mirrored your smile and wrapped his hands around your hips, holding you a tad bit closer to his body. "Apology accepted." He leaned down to give you a quick kiss on your lips, which made your smile even wider. "Go sit down. I'll do some touch-ups and bring it to you." He gave you a wink, which only made you giggle.

You moved away from his hold and sat down at the kitchen table as you were told to do. Theo turned back to his creation and quickly finished it so you wouldn’t starve to death within those few seconds.

"Here we go." A plate was placed in front of you with utensils and a piece of bread to go with it. "I know it’s just scrambled eggs with a piece of bread, but I hope you'll still like it." Theo gave you a small, hopeful smile as he sat down at the table with you.

"Theo, I told you many times I don't need anything fancy," you smiled at him while grabbing a fork. You truly meant what you said. You never were into anything fancy—it was too much for you, and even though you thought that an expensive dinner or gift was nice, you appreciate something simple, like scrambled eggs that Theo made just for you. "Oh, wow, this is so good," you said after taking your first bite.

Theo had to laugh at you. "You don’t have to overdo your reaction, Y/N. Just say if it's bad, I can handle it." He straightened his back, preparing for your possible critique of his breakfast. "C'mon, hurry." He nudged you to reveal your true opinion.

Now it was your turn to laugh. "Babe, I am not lying to you." With your free hand, you grabbed the piece of bread to take a bite. "It's genuinely good. I am impressed." Another smile appeared on your lips.

Theo’s brows knitted together as his eyes carefully scanned yours for any hidden lie. "Really?" he asked, still not quite believing your words. "Let me have a taste. I wanna know myself that it's as good as how you are saying."

"Wait, hold on." You moved the plate closer to you. "You want to tell me you didn’t taste it while you were preparing it?" You looked at him with your own suspicions now, and Theo’s sheepish smile told you everything you needed to know. "You just want to eat my breakfast!" You shook your head at him.

"What?" He widened his eyes and dramatically put his hand on his heart at your accusation. "Me? Eat your food? Never."

"Yeah, sure, sure." You chuckled and ate another portion of the eggs. "My fries could tell a whole different story," you reminded him of every time he stole fries you bought for yourself from your favorite fast food chain.

Because he is an idol, he has a strict diet he needs to follow, so he can't just go and buy a hamburger with large fries, a Coke, and maybe six pieces of nuggets. No, he has you for that, and when he thinks you're not looking, he steals a few fries. If he's feeling bold enough, he even dips them in the sauce you got to go with them.

"What fries?" He tilted his head to the side, feigning confusion, but he couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto his lips.

"You're unbelievable." You looked back at your food and continued eating. Of course, you couldn’t fight back a smile of your own at your boyfriend's almost childlike behavior.

"But you still love me." He leaned closer to you and gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek. Though, all of that was just a distraction so he could steal a piece of bacon you hadn’t noticed was there too. "Right?" He pulled back just enough to look at you.

You looked back at him and pretended to think for a second, which brought a small pout to Theo's lips. "Well, I guess I do."

Theo smiled happily at you. "I love you too," he said, suddenly standing up and moving around you to go towards the fridge. His mission of stealing that one piece of bacon had been successful, and now he tried to eat it without you noticing. What better way to hide it than to stand behind the open fridge door? "What would you like for a drink, my dear?" he asked, crouching down to look into the fridge while munching on the baked piece of meat.

"Juice would be nice, please," you answered, happily (and also peacefully, without your boyfriend's interruptions) eating your breakfast. "Thank you," you said when a glass of cold orange juice was placed in front of you. You immediately grabbed it and took a big gulp.

The rest of your breakfast went normally, without any further attempts from Theo to steal your food—and yes, you never noticed that one piece of bacon he had taken for himself. After you were done, Theo, as a true gentleman, cleaned up the dishes, and when they were dry, he placed them in their rightful spots in the cupboards and drawers.

That was your cue to stand up, and together, you two went to the living room, where you both sat down on the couch. Once seated, you reached for the TV remote on the table in front of you and turned on the TV, though it was only for background noise. You set the remote back down and turned your attention to your boyfriend, who was smiling at you. You returned his smile and leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. Theo chuckled to himself and wrapped his arm around you, holding you close.

"Your parents are gone for the whole week?" he asked, drawing circles on your skin with his finger.

You nodded your head. "Yes, they are. Dad is on a business trip, and Mom went to Grandma's house to help her with something," you told him. "So we don't have to worry about them." You smiled softly.

"Ah, what a shame. I wanted to see your dad." Theo moved his hand from drawing circles on your skin to your hair to play with it. "There’s this one game I want to discuss with him. I think he would like it," he nodded, agreeing with himself.

You lifted your head just enough to see his face and raised one eyebrow at him. "Sometimes I think you like my dad more than me."

Theo let out a chuckle. "That is not true. I just want to be on his good side, and what better way than through games we both love?" He smiled and leaned in to give you a small peck on your lips. "And not to mention, you’re like this with my mom too. But instead of games, you talk about horror movies," he reminded you.

"Well, it's because she’s the only one who’s willing to watch them with me," you reasoned. "My mom is more of a romantic movie enthusiast, my dad doesn’t care about movies at all, he’d rather talk with you about games, and your dad likes fishing. Your mom is the only one who shares the same passion as me." You shrugged your shoulders and placed your head back on his shoulder.

You felt your head hurting again, which was weird because you had taken the painkillers not even an hour ago, so they should still be working. But that wasn’t the case here, obviously. You let out a small sigh when you realized it wasn’t just a headache but a migraine, which was a much worse scenario—one you didn’t want to happen.

"Hey, you okay?" You felt Theo’s hand stop stroking your head when he asked the question. "I promise to watch horror movies with you if you're upset about that," he said immediately, and that made you chuckle a bit.

"No, no, it’s not that, really," you assured him and patted his chest lightly. "It’s just..." you paused. You didn’t want to say it out loud—or more specifically, to him—because he would definitely cancel today's plans.

"It's just?" he urged you to continue because you never finished your sentence, and it made him a little scared about what might be happening.

"I woke up with a headache, so I took some painkillers, but the pain is back, and I realized it might be a migraine," you finally told him, sitting up properly on the couch and looking at him once again but this time with a guilty face.

"You were scared to tell me that?" he furrowed his eyebrows. "Y/N, honey, you don’t have to hide that you're in pain from me. I would actually appreciate knowing that you're hurting." A serious expression could be seen on his face. "And what's with that face, hm?" he gently poked your cheek with his finger.

"I didn't want that to ruin our week," you mumbled, still feeling guilty and also because the migraine started to get stronger. But you still tried to push through it before taking another medicine; you didn’t want to overdo it. "It's been so long since we could be with each other for more than a few hours." Your tone was not just guilty now but also sad.

"Baby..." Theo looked at you with sympathy. "Your migraine won't ruin our entire week. It won't ruin even this particular day." He placed his palm against your cheek and moved his thumb over your cheekbone. "Instead of cooking like we planned today, we will order takeout from your favorite fast food when you're ready to eat again, of course, because I know your stomach isn’t the best when the migraine strikes. I’ll make a nice dark fort here in the living room and play some calming sounds, or we can stay in quiet if it feels like too much." He gave you the warmest smile.

You felt so grateful that your boyfriend was such a sweetheart, and you couldn’t imagine your life without him anymore. Yes, it had been hard for the most part (and sometimes still was) with him being an idol, but you managed to work through horrible things, so this stupid migraine was nothing in comparison; at least in his eyes. It still bugged you but you tried to suppress the feeling because he is trying so hard so you wouldn’t feel bad about it.

Even through your rising migraine, a small smile found its way onto your lips again. You turned your face to the side where his hand was still on your cheek and gave him a small kiss on his palm to show him some form of appreciation, as talking started to feel like too much effort in your current state.

"I’m guessing this means you agree with the small change in plans?" he asked to confirm his assumption, to which you simply nodded. "Okay, then," he said as he moved his hand away from your face and reached for the TV remote to turn it off. "I'll prepare the fort for us. You can go and lie in bed until I’m done," he added, turning to you.

"Don’t wanna move," you managed to say while closing your eyes to block out the unnecessary light that was already starting to hurt you more—and that was just the daylight coming through the windows.

You could hear Theo chuckling and then felt him stand up from the couch. You were curious about what he was going to do, but keeping your eyes closed was much more pleasant than facing the light from the outside world, so you didn’t bother opening them. But you soon found out what he was up to.

Theo moved between your legs and leaned down so he could grab your hands and put them around his neck. "Hold tight, can you do that?" he whispered close to your ear. You only nodded in response, not questioning what exactly he wanted to do, and locked your arms securely behind his neck. "I’ll pick you up now, okay?" Even though it was phrased as a question, he treated it more like an announcement, and without waiting for your answer, he got into action. "Let’s go, my big baby," he said as he firmly grabbed you under your thighs and lifted you from the couch.

You instinctively locked your legs behind his back, and he adjusted his hold on you so you wouldn’t fall from his arms—not that he would ever let you fall. This sudden movement didn’t do your head any good, causing a terrible head spin, and you let out a discontented groan, hugging Theo tighter.

"I know, I know." He kissed your temple. "I'm sorry, but it will be better soon, I promise." He was still speaking in a hushed tone to avoid triggering you further, knowing how sensitive you had become due to the migraine that was growing more intense with each passing minute.

Theo carried you to your room and slowly placed you on your bed. Sadly, even though he tried so hard not to make you any more uncomfortable, your head spun again, and you immediately curled into a ball, hoping to stop it. While you were fighting the spinning of your head and the growing urge to empty your stomach, Theo closed the curtains to make the environment a little more bearable for you.

"Rest here for a while," he said while carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I'll be back soon." He gently stroked your hand in a caring manner. He didn’t wait for you to say anything—he stood up once again and went to the door to leave, so he could prepare the fort in the living room, just as he had promised.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled quietly, unsure if Theo could hear you, but you had to apologize. Things had gone downhill with your migraine so quickly that you felt even guiltier than you had while the two of you were talking on the couch in the living room.

You didn’t hear him say anything, so you thought he had probably left already and hadn’t noticed that you had said something to him. But suddenly, you felt the bed dip under his weight once again, and soon his hand found its way into your hair.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he stroked your hair. "I know you feel bad for ruining our plans, which are your words and also wrong, but I don't think you ruined anything, Y/N." He was still speaking softly, which warmed your heart even more because of how considerate he was, making sure not to worsen your migraine; oh, how much you loved him. "This only means you’ll need me to be by your side, and I am more than willing to do that." He smiled, even if you couldn’t see it. "You're the only one I love to take care of."

Those words made you look up at him. It took a lot of strength and effort, but you had to see him. His eyes were nothing but honest and full of love for you, and you felt tears welling up in yours. "I love you," you whispered, afraid that you would actually start crying if you spoke any louder.

Theo wasn’t the type of person eager to take care of something or someone; he had never had a pet for this exact reason. Even his members often joked about it, and they weren’t wrong. But when you became his other half, something in him changed—though he didn’t want to admit it for a long time. When he finally realized there was nothing wrong with caring for someone you love, he started to show it in small ways. Everyone around him noticed the change, but only his members were bold enough to tease him about it. You didn’t want to scare him away at first, but soon, you began making small jokes here and there too.

"I love you too," he smiled even brighter and wiped away a tear that had escaped your eye. "Don’t cry, baby, it will make you feel worse." He stroked your cheek in a calming manner.

"I know." You chuckled dryly and closed your eyes again, burying your head to block out as much remaining light as possible. He was right—the tears made your head feel worse, but it was his fault for making you cry over the sweet words he had just told you.

Theo had to chuckle too. "Rest, okay? I'll be back soon, and then you can tell me what else you want." He leaned down, gave you a kiss in your hair, and stood up once more. He would have kissed your cheek, but your head was buried between the pillow and your hands, so he had to be satisfied with that.

Finally, Theo left your room to prepare the fort in your living room, and who knew what else he would think of. While you were resting and waiting for him to come back to take you downstairs, you actually fell asleep.

Theo returned to your room about thirty minutes later and immediately noticed your sleeping form. A gentle smile appeared on his face as he took a blanket and placed it over your body. "Sleep tight," he murmured lovingly.

◈ raspberry and pistachio cake // jeon wonwoo

Soulmate. 

You’ve never really liked the word. There’s always been something rather—disappointingly predetermined, about it. Like a soulmate is someone that you simply find one day and, suddenly, you realise they’re your other half. The last puzzle piece to your life. Like you were imperfect, incomplete, missing something, before you met. That always felt wrong.

Despite this, Wonwoo is most certainly your soulmate.

Lee Chan and His 12 Useful Hyungs

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Dino (flu)

Caregiver(s): Seventeen

Word Count: 4,315

Notes: Well now... this one absolutely got away from me! I had the idea, meant for each vignette to be short... that clearly did not happen... so hope you enjoy!!!

Chan woke up to a headache. Not a crazy headache, certainly not a migraine or anything. But the kind of discomfort that announced its presence as he sat up, throbbed again when he stood up, and pulsed as he turned on the overhead light. Rubbing at his scalp, Chan pushed on, squinting and wincing his way through his morning routine. But after a few minutes, as he left sleep further behind, the pain subsided to a dull throb Chan could easily forget about. It was an annoyance for sure, yet also nothing that a few painkillers couldn’t fix.

Waking to a headache was common in this line of work, anyway. Didn’t drink enough water yesterday? Headache. Didn’t sleep long enough? Headache. Performed a concert with blaring music and screaming fans the day before? Headache. 

Chan threw back three Ibuprofen capsules and went on his way, grabbing a protein bar for breakfast just as the vans pulled up to shuttle the members to the studio. 

As soon as he stepped outside, Chan winced at the brightness of the sun. An aching pulse shot through his head, and he instinctually clamped his eyes shut. Suddenly, he felt a presence against his head, the brilliance of the sun disappearing from behind his closed eyelids. Chan blinked his eyes open to find the brim of a baseball cap blocking the harsh rays from his eyes. He looked around, noting Jun hanging close to his left side. When their eyes met, the older dancer gave him a soft smile. 

“It’s bright today,” Jun said quietly.

Chan nodded. “It is. But I’m okay. You don’t need to sacrifice your hat for my eyes.”

“Thought it looked cuter with your outfit,” Jun replied. He patted Chan’s shoulder affectionately, winking discreetly. 

The maknae smiled. “Thanks, hyung.” Jun nodded. He was good about noticing the little things like that. 

𝖠𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖧𝖼'𝗌 - ( 𝖲𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖤𝖭 )

pt.1

𓊈 𝖶𝖼 ⋮ 0.3k 𓊉

As soon as he walks away, he gets hit with a massive wave of regret, seeing the way your expression faded while he yelled over you was a site he couldn’t forgot – he wanted to apologize right away but was too ashamed to look you in the eye again so, he spent the next few hours avoiding you and mentally beating himself up for acting so immature over something as miniscule as an argument that neither of you even remember why it started. He eventually apologized with the most gut-wrenching guilty expression and gave you a long, tight hug after. 

It takes him at least a full two days before he apologizes; he has to swallow his pride first, then he realizes how childish he was acting, and immediately feels guilty for all of it. He approaches you very softly and quietly apologizes, his head down the entire time he was talking, too guilty and slightly embarrassed to look at your reaction. He ends it with a very sincere ‘I love you, and I hope you can forgive me’ then a hug, followed by a kiss on your forehead. 

He wants to talk about it as soon as possible, but if you need time to cool off, that’s fine; he’ll give it to you, but the entire time, he’ll be overthinking and stressed, hoping he didn’t upset you too much. Once you’re both ready to talk about it, he’ll sit down with you and try to reason out a compromise, and if he did end up saying anything harsh during the actual argument, he’ll apologize for it straight-up. Since things usually end up being solved after the argument, it ends with him giving you a hug and a kiss, plus making you your favorite meal for dinner that night, just as an extra little ‘sorry’ 

Jiung ✧ Home

✧ P1Harmony Jiung x gn!reader ✧ words: ~600 ✧ genre: fluff, comfort ✧ warnings: (him running his fingers through reader's hair)

You don’t know how much time has passed since you arrived at Jiung’s place and you sat down on the sofa next to him, resting your heavy head on his left shoulder. All you know is that you’ve been watching him do little drawings in a sketchbook for a while now, and you lost count of how many times he’s turned pages because he already filled the last one up with his scribbles. You know that he sometimes sits down to draw for however long he feels like in order to clear his head. As for you, watching him draw almost has a therapeutic effect on you. You love watching the way he lets the tip of whatever pen was closest to him when he decided to start drawing race across the paper at times, or how he moves it very slowly, adding some detail to the drawing. You too can let go of your thoughts as you get lost in the countless lines and shapes he puts down on the paper. Usually, watching him sketch is simply a fun pastime for you, but today you really need the distraction. 

in which a midnight chase leads to a warm embrace

wooyoung masterlist - main masterlist

The library was quiet, the air heavy with the scent of old books and the soft rustle of pages being turned. Y/n had been studying for hours, buried in her textbooks and notes, her mind focused on the upcoming exams. The autumn day had turned chilly, the leaves outside painting the ground in hues of orange and red. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck, trying to keep the cold at bay.

As the afternoon wore on, Y/n felt her eyelids growing heavy. She fought against the drowsiness, but the combination of the quiet library, the warmth of her seat, and the exhaustion from hours of studying proved too much. Before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep, her head resting on the pile of books in front of her.

Love on the Line (Call Now)

Pairing: Vernon x fem!reader

Summary: Vernon calls you late at night despite being exhausted, simply to see you. As you chat, he admires you, refusing to hang up until he falls asleep.

Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Fluff

A/N: this fic is inspired by Love on the Line (Call Now) - Her's

It’s the weekend and your day off. You were supposed to be on a date with your boyfriend, but instead, you’re hanging out with your friends. Why? Because Vernon—your boyfriend—is currently out of the country. It’s not unusual. Seventeen is thriving right now, and his schedule is packed.

Now, it’s Saturday night. You just got back from a fun evening out with your friends and finished taking a shower. Glancing at the clock, you note that it’s already 11 PM. He should be calling soon, you think, walking over to your dressing table to start your skincare routine.

Before you can reach for your toner, your phone’s ringtone blares through the quiet room. It buzzes against the bed, the name 'Vernon' glowing on the screen. Your heart leaps. Without hesitation, you grab your phone and answer.

Just One More (I Swear!)

Pairing: Seungcheol x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Established Relationship

wc: 650 words

Summary: You just want to keep kissing your boyfriend, and Seungcheol pretends to suffer. (he does not!!)

“Babe, seriously—”

“Just one more,” you insist, leaning in before Seungcheol can finish his sentence. Your lips press against his in a quick, warm kiss, and you feel him sigh against your mouth.

“That’s what you said ten kisses ago,” he mumbles as you pull away, his hands already resting on your waist.

You shrug, eyes twinkling. “Yeah, and I meant it every time.”

Seungcheol shakes his head, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “You have a problem.”

“A you problem.”

“Me?” He laughs, tilting his head back. “I’m literally sitting here, minding my own business—”

ও wen junhui as your college boyfriend

heads up: food mentions, migraine mention. they are in luv but not together yet.

the last person you expect to find in your kitchen is jeonghan. he's softly humming to himself as he moves about, making breakfast for the two of you without so much as a second thought as to whether or not he should be doing it. there's paper bags that have been neatly folded down for recycling sitting on one counter, so he's either ordered a grocery delivery or he's left and come back... and all you can do is just stare at him, brows furrowed, the remnants of a migraine still leaving you with this ugly ache in your head and at the back of your eyes.

"good morning." his voice is breezy, warm, as he glances your way. "did you sleep well?"

"why are you here?"

Part Two: Echoes of Exhaustion - The Mend

Part One

The clock ticked past 10 p.m., and Jeonghan couldn’t take it anymore. The silence from you had stretched too long, gnawing at him with every unanswered text and call. He grabbed his jacket, slipped on his shoes, and headed to your apartment, a mix of determination and dread fueling his steps. He knew your routine—home by 8 p.m., usually winding down by now. If he showed up, he could apologize in person, see your face, and fix whatever mess he’d made. That was the plan, at least.

The streets were quiet as he drove, the city lights blurring past him. His mind raced, replaying that awful moment in the practice room, your hurt expression, the way you’d left without looking back. He’d been an idiot, letting exhaustion turn him into someone he wasn’t. He just needed to see you, to make it right.

When he reached your apartment building, he took the stairs two at a time, too impatient for the elevator. He knocked on your door, sharp and insistent, but there was no answer. Frowning, he tried again, louder this time. Nothing. He pressed his ear to the wood, straining to hear any sign of movement—silence. His stomach dropped. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text: “I’m at your place. Where are you?” No reply. He called, and it rang out to voicemail, your tired voice on the recording twisting the knife in his chest.

“She’s probably just asleep,” he muttered to himself, trying to rationalize it. He slid down to sit against the wall beside your door, legs stretched out in the dimly lit hallway. He’d wait. You’d be home soon. You had to be.

Hours crept by. 11 p.m. turned to midnight, then 1 a.m. He kept texting, kept calling, each unanswered attempt chipping away at his hope. “Yn, please, just let me know you’re okay.” “I’m still here. I’ll wait as long as it takes.” The hallway was cold, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead, and his back ached from leaning against the wall, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t. Not until he saw you.

By 2:30 a.m., exhaustion weighed heavy on him, his head dipping as he fought to stay awake. He didn’t know where you were, why you weren’t home, and the uncertainty clawed at him. Had something happened? Were you avoiding him? The guilt from his outburst mixed with worry, leaving him a mess of regret and longing.

It was nearly 3 a.m. when he heard the faint shuffle of footsteps. His head snapped up, and there you were—stumbling down the hallway, a plastic bag dangling from your hand, the faint scent of convenience store ramen wafting toward him. You looked wrecked, your hair a mess, dark circles bruising under your eyes, your shoulders slumped with fatigue. You didn’t see him at first, too focused on dragging yourself to your door. When you reached it, you fumbled with your keys, dropping them with a soft clink. A tired curse slipped from your lips, and instead of picking them up, you just… stopped. You slid down against the door, sitting on the floor, knees pulled to your chest. The bag crinkled as you set it beside you, pulling out a cup of instant noodles and a plastic spoon like it was all you had the energy for.

Jeonghan’s heart lurched. “Yn?”

Your head jerked up, eyes wide and bleary as they landed on him. For a moment, you just stared, like you couldn’t process why he was there. “Jeonghan?” Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “What… what are you doing here?”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, scrambling to his feet. His legs ached from sitting so long, but he ignored it, crouching in front of you. “I got here at 10. You weren’t home. I’ve been texting, calling—where were you?”

You blinked at him, too tired to mask the exhaustion etched into your face. “Work,” you mumbled, looking away. “It ran late. Really late.” You rubbed a hand over your eyes, smudging what little makeup remained. “I didn’t check my phone. Too much going on.”

He studied you, taking in the way you clutched the ramen cup like it was a lifeline, the way your hands trembled slightly from either hunger or fatigue—probably both. “You didn’t tell me you’d be out this late,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with worry. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought. That you were mad, or avoiding me, or—”

“I’m not mad,” you cut in, though your tone was flat, distant. You stabbed the spoon into the noodles, not meeting his gaze. “I’m just tired, Jeonghan. I’ve been working nonstop. I don’t have time to be mad.”

The words stung, but he saw the truth in them—the bone-deep weariness you carried. He reached out, gently taking the ramen from your hands despite your weak protest. “You don’t need this,” he said, setting it aside. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I’ll take care of you.”

You frowned, too drained to argue as he picked up your keys and unlocked the door. He helped you up, his arm steady around your waist as you swayed slightly. The apartment was dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos he knew you’d been through. He guided you to the couch, easing you down before heading to the kitchen.

“I’m not hungry,” you mumbled, but he ignored you, already pulling out ingredients—eggs, rice, a bit of seaweed he found in your pantry. He moved with quiet efficiency, the soft clatter of pans and the sizzle of food filling the silence. You watched him from the couch, too tired to protest, your eyelids drooping.

When he returned, he carried a steaming bowl of simple fried rice, the kind you loved when you were too worn out to think. “Eat,” he said gently, pressing it into your hands. “Just a little. For me.”

You sighed but took a bite, then another, the warmth of the food seeping into you. He sat beside you, watching with a small, relieved smile as color slowly returned to your face. When you finished, he took the bowl and set it aside, then pulled you closer, his fingers brushing through your tangled hair.

“You’re a mess,” he murmured, but there was no judgment in his voice—only fondness. He stood, tugging you up with him. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

In the bathroom, he sat you on the edge of the tub, grabbing a makeup wipe from the counter. With careful, gentle strokes, he wiped away the smudged eyeliner and mascara, his touch soft against your skin. “You don’t need to do this,” you muttered, but he just shushed you, his focus unwavering.

“Yes, I do,” he replied, tossing the wipe and running a warm washcloth over your face next. “I messed up, Yn. I hurt you, and I hate that. Let me take care of you now, okay?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue, and honestly, his care felt good—too good to resist. When he was done, he led you to your bedroom, pulling back the covers and helping you out of your stiff work clothes, replacing them with an oversized shirt he found in your drawer. You climbed into bed, the mattress sinking under you, and he tucked the blanket around you like you were something precious.

“Stay,” you whispered, your hand catching his wrist as he turned to leave.

He paused, then smiled—a real, soft smile that made your chest ache. “Always.” He kicked off his shoes and slid in beside you, pulling you into his arms. His warmth enveloped you, steady and grounding, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, murmuring, “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. Sleep now, I’ve got you.”

You nestled closer, the exhaustion finally overtaking you as his fingers traced soothing patterns on your back. For the first time in days, you felt safe, and cared for, and the tension melted away as you drifted off, wrapped in hirm.