#hazelwritez

SKZ comforting reader during a panic attack

warnings: just fluff, reader having a panic attack, nothing else

💙 Bang Chan

You weren’t sure when the pressure began to squeeze your chest, only that it got harder and harder to breathe. The crowd was roaring, the lights blinding, and the heat of the stage was too much. Mid-verse, your vision blurred and your knees buckled slightly.

Chan noticed right away.

Even in the middle of his rap, he took one step closer to you, hand brushing yours discreetly as he finished his lines. You were trying to power through, but he saw the shake in your fingers.

“(Y/N), you with me?” his voice crackled softly through your in-ear monitor.

You gave a tiny nod, but that was all you could manage.

“Alright, don’t move, baby. I’ve got it.”

When the lights dimmed between songs, he gently wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you offstage, as if it was all part of the plan. The moment you were out of the spotlight, he turned to you fully, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Hey, hey... Look at me. You’re safe, okay? You’re doing so good.”

Your hands were shaking, chest heaving, and tears were starting to prick at your eyes. He leaned his forehead against yours and whispered, “Let’s just sit for a sec, yeah? Forget the concert. Just breathe with me.”

He pulled you into his lap, your back against his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you like a weighted blanket.

“You’re not alone. I’ll stop the whole world for you if I have to.”

💛 Lee Know (Minho)

You were mid-dance when your limbs stopped responding the way they were supposed to. The beat was thumping, but your heart was louder. Your breath hitched, hands trembling around the mic. You missed your cue.

Minho was the first to notice the unusual hesitation. He spun on cue and caught sight of your pale face. His dancer's instincts kicked in — he flowed closer, syncing his steps with yours to hide the change from the audience.

During the quick formation change, he brushed his fingers against your arm.

“Hey... You okay?” he asked softly, his sharp eyes never leaving yours.

You couldn’t respond. You could barely breathe.

He didn’t hesitate. When the lights flickered for the next transition, he took your hand and smoothly pulled you toward the side of the stage, never breaking the flow.

Once backstage, he didn’t say anything at first — he just tugged you into his arms and let you cling.

“I know that look,” he whispered into your hair. “You don’t need to explain.”

He rubbed your back slowly, methodically, grounding you.

“You’re not weak. You’re human,” he said after a beat, voice still calm but laced with something softer. “And you don’t have to face this alone. Not while I’m here.”

Later, he handed you his spare hoodie. “You can wear this while you rest. It smells like me — and you always say that helps.”

💖 Changbin

The second your mic dipped too low and your eyes darted nervously toward the floor, Changbin felt something was wrong. You were never this off-beat. Your steps faltered, and when he passed you during choreo, he saw it — your hands were trembling, your mouth opening like you couldn’t find air.

Without missing his lines, he adjusted the spacing so he ended up right beside you. His hand brushed yours, then grabbed it.

“It’s okay,” he whispered quickly. “You’re okay. Just hold on to me.”

He looped your arm around his, guiding you subtly toward the wing as the group fanned out. The audience didn’t even notice, but once you were offstage, you collapsed onto your knees, breathing raggedly.

He knelt right beside you, throwing his jacket around your shoulders and pulling you into him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here,” he repeated like a mantra, his hand rubbing circles on your back. “You’re not alone.”

You looked at him, eyes wide with panic. “I—I couldn’t breathe.”

“I know,” he said gently. “You don’t have to push through it alone. That’s what I’m here for.”

After a moment, he tried to lighten the mood. “Besides, if you fainted on stage, I would’ve had to carry you like a prince. Not that I’d mind.”

You laughed — a weak, shaky laugh — but it was enough.

💚 Hyunjin

You had practiced the setlist a hundred times, but nothing prepared you for the way the crowd’s screams began to close in around you. The lights felt too hot, too bright, and your heart pounded in your ears like a war drum.

Hyunjin spotted you faltering, your posture stiff and your eyes darting.

In a fluid motion, he abandoned the center spot and danced his way to your side, catching your eye mid-step.

“(Y/N), breathe with me,” he mouthed, exaggerating his own breaths to help ground you.

You nodded weakly, tears brimming.

He slipped an arm behind your waist and guided you to the wing while the others took over center stage. The crowd, oblivious, continued to cheer.

Once you were behind the curtain, he dropped the performer's mask and knelt in front of you.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart. Look at me. You’re okay. Can you feel my hand?”

He placed it over your chest, his palm firm but gentle.

“Match your breath to mine, alright? Like we practiced in vocal training. In... and out.”

Slowly, your breathing synced with his.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you need. I don’t care about the setlist.”

Then, in classic Hyunjin fashion, he added, “But when you feel better, let’s take a dramatic selfie with your blanket and tissues. I’ll title it ‘Stage 9: The Meltdown Era.’”

💙 Han (Jisung)

You were known for your energy, your grin, the way you hyped the crowd with just a wink. But this time, you felt frozen. The voices in your head were louder than the cheers. Your knees locked, your throat closed up, and the panic hit like a tidal wave.

Jisung had just finished his verse when he noticed. You were staring blankly at the crowd, your mic down at your side.

He didn’t even blink — he immediately stepped in front of you and took over your line, making it look like a planned remix.

As the next formation shifted, he ducked behind you and whispered into your ear, “Hey, breathe, okay? I’m here.”

He subtly slid his arm around your back, walking you toward the edge of the stage during a blackout transition.

Once backstage, he sat you down and knelt in front of you, still catching his breath from performing.

“You scared me,” he said, his voice soft but honest. “But it’s okay. We’ll get through it.”

He took your hand and placed it over his own racing heart. “Feel that? It’s beating fast too. You’re not the only one, okay?”

Then, trying to lighten the mood, he grinned, “And hey, maybe this’ll be our next concept. ‘Stray Kids: Panic but Pretty.’”

You snorted through your tears, and he beamed. “There’s that laugh I love.”

💜 Felix

The fans were chanting your name, but you couldn’t hear it. The pounding in your head was too loud. You swayed slightly, and your legs felt like jelly. Your mouth moved, but no words came out.

Felix was on the other side of the stage, but the second he saw your shoulders slump and your eyes glaze, he crossed the distance in seconds.

He didn’t say anything at first — just gently took your hand and interlaced your fingers with his.

“Hey, sunshine,” he whispered, soft and low in your in-ear. “You’re okay. Focus on my voice, yeah?”

You nodded, barely. He gently guided you toward the wing, his presence shielding you as the other members covered the stage.

Once backstage, he wrapped both arms around you, holding you close to his chest.

“You did amazing,” he murmured. “And you don’t have to prove anything, okay?”

You hiccupped a sob. “I—I’m sorry—”

“Nope. None of that. No apologies.” He kissed the top of your head. “You're human. And you’re still the bravest person I know.”

Then, he pulled a small piece of chocolate from his pocket. “Your emergency sweet. I knew I’d need it one day.”

💙 Seungmin

You were halfway through your solo line when your throat tightened and your mind blanked. The world felt far away, and your hands were clammy.

Seungmin was in the middle of the harmonies, but he noticed your voice crack — not in the usual way. He stepped closer under the pretense of choreo and caught your hand, squeezing it once.

“You okay?” he asked into your in-ear.

You shook your head faintly.

“I’m taking you off. Don’t argue.”

With his arm lightly wrapped around your waist, he led you toward the wing during a lighting shift. Once backstage, he placed both hands on your shoulders and crouched to meet your gaze.

“You’re okay. You’re just overwhelmed,” he said calmly. “You don’t need to force anything. Take a break.”

When you broke down in tears, he offered you his oversized hoodie and water bottle.

“You don’t need to be perfect,” he said. “You’re enough. Always have been.”

Later, he sat beside you quietly, offering you silence and space — until he pulled up a meme on his phone and deadpanned, “Okay, but if I passed out on stage, you’d laugh. So I’m owed at least one giggle.”

❤️ I.N (Jeongin)

You were halfway through a high-energy number when your knees buckled. You tried to recover, but your chest was tight, and the edges of your vision were going dark.

Jeongin caught you before you could fall.

“Hey, hey—what’s wrong?” he said, concern instantly replacing his usual bright smile.

He held onto your waist and guided you slowly offstage, murmuring, “Just lean on me. I’ve got you.”

Once backstage, he helped you sit down and knelt beside you, brushing your hair gently out of your face.

“Is it panic? Yeah?” he asked. You nodded, trembling.

He offered his hand, and when you took it, he pressed it against his cheek.

“Just focus on something soft, okay? Like my cheeks. Or the fact that I almost tripped during my verse and no one noticed.”

That earned a soft laugh through your tears.

He gave you his lucky charm — a tiny plushie from his mic stand — and placed it in your lap.

“You’ve always been strong for us. Now it’s my turn.”

authors note: kind of sick rn, hopefully this is good 😭😭 hope you liked it, fr started giggling and kicking my feet when i saw someone acc requested something. anywho, love u sm, thanks for reading 🫶

authors note: this is so ass but i hope yall like it anyway. just a short little thing cause i was bored and had time. i was reading some of @sugardollcurse work and suddenly felt like writing, so props to you. i’m a huge fan hehe

Chan loves you. Intricately, wholy, gently, roughly, today and tomorrow. He loves you when your eyes are puffy and when your hands are cold. When your voice is rough and when your stomach aches. He loved you at your highest, your lowest, whenever and wherever. And he wanted- no, *needed* you to know that every inch of his heart belonged to you.

So no, you weren't surprised when you came home to a mountain of bags filled with everything from skirts and dresses to necklaces and waist bracelets to your favorite scented candles.

You never exactly got to open them until the next morning, because as soon as you whispered his name like a sacred secret, as soon as your face broke into the most gentle smile, Chan took you in his arms. Half proud of himself. Half melting from seeing that beautiful smile grace your lips. Fully disgustingly in love all over again like he was a teenager with a crush.

The night was spent in a tangle of limbs- you embasking in his warm skin and fading cologne from the day, him gently scolding you for being so cold as he left gentle kisses on the top of your head.

You couldn't care if you were frozen cold, or if your skin was literally melting off. All you needed and wanted was him him *him*. And god knows he couldn't possibly love you more even though he promised he does.

You eventually fell asleep in his arms, but he stayed awake about an hour after, feeling like he was the luckiest man in the universe. In the middle of the night, pressed between your tangled limbs and lazily tugged-on clothes, Chan's heart beat in sync with yours, feeling more at home than he could ever be. With you.

Interlude: Static Interference- Chan's POV