#svtleader

SEVENTEEN’s reaction to their partner going through a difficult time and struggling

(Seventeen 0T13 x Reader)

*Contemporary Romance, Relationship Drama, Slice of Life, Angst, Emotional Drama, Comfort, Slow-Burn / Psychological Realism, Romantic Melodrama, Character Study, Therapeutic / Healing Fiction*

SEUNGCHEOL

Seungcheol had been noticing the signs for days the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, how your voice sounded thinner, how you stayed quiet even when he tried to tease you or make you laugh. He didn’t push, but he watched you carefully, worry sitting heavy in his chest.

That night, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. Your shoulders slumped in a way that didn’t look like sadness it looked like defeat. His heart sank immediately.

“Baby?” he called softly, stepping closer.

You didn’t look at him, just whispered, “I’m done.”

His breath hitched. “Done with what?”

There was a long pause before you finally murmured, voice trembling, “With everything. I’m just so tired, Cheol… so tired.”

It wasn’t direct, but it was enough. Too much. His stomach twisted; fear rushed through him so fast he had to sit beside you before his knees gave out. He cupped the back of your head and gently pulled you into his chest, holding you tight.

“Hey… no. Don’t say that,” he breathed against your hair, one hand rubbing slow circles down your back as your body began to shake. “Please don’t scare me like that. You’re exhausted, not done. You’re overwhelmed, not alone.”

You let out a broken sob and clung to him, fingers gripping his hoodie like you were afraid he’d disappear. Seungcheol tightened his arms around you, grounding you with every breath he took.

“I’m right here,” he whispered firmly. “You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to keep everything in. You can lean on me that’s what I’m here for.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own glassy with emotion. “You matter to me. More than you know. I’m not letting you go. We’ll get through this together, okay?”

He kissed your forehead gently, over and over, until your breathing steadied a little. That night, he didn’t leave your side for a single moment, keeping you pressed against his chest like he needed to feel every heartbeat to believe you were still there.

JEONGHAN

Jeonghan had always known you were struggling long before you admitted it. He noticed the way your smile faded quicker, the way your replies became shorter, the way your eyes seemed to look through things instead of at them. But Jeonghan was patient; he never pressed you, never cornered you, never demanded explanations. He simply stayed close sitting beside you during quiet days, teasing you just enough to lighten your mood, checking in with gentle questions disguised as casual conversation.

So when you walked into the practice room one evening, shoulders trembling, face streaked with tears you couldn’t hide, Jeonghan’s heart nearly dropped out of his chest. He approached you without hesitation, hands lifting to cup your cheeks as he whispered, “Oh, sweetheart… what happened?” The moment he touched you, your last shred of composure collapsed. You clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably into his chest. Jeonghan wrapped you in his arms, swaying slightly, his hand sliding up and down your back in soothing strokes.

Muffled against his shirt, you confessed the truth: “I don’t want to live anymore.” His breath stopped. A soft, broken sound escaped him, the kind you make when you’re holding back your own tears. Jeonghan pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, his own glistening. “Y/N… no. No, please don’t think that. Please don’t say that.” His voice was trembling, fragile in a way he never allowed it to be. “You’re not too much. You’re not hard to love. You’re not alone. You’re tired. You’re hurting. And I’m so sorry you felt you had to carry it alone.” He wiped your tears with gentle fingertips, whispering reassurance into your hair. “Lean on me. Break in front of me. Cry, scream, collapse I’ll hold you every time. You’re here, and I need you here. We’ll get help together. You’re not going anywhere.”

JOSHUA

You had always felt safe with Joshua his calm voice, his soft manners, the way he listened like every word you spoke held weight. But tonight, when you texted him “Can you meet me? Please…” he sensed something different. He rushed to the park you told him about, scanning the empty benches until he found you sitting alone, hugging your knees under the dim yellow glow of a streetlamp. The sight of you broke him instantly. He approached slowly, kneeling in front of you so he could meet your eyes, his hands lightly touching your knees. “Hey… I’m here. What happened?” he asked gently, his voice so soft it felt like a blanket.

But the moment you tried to answer, your throat closed up. Tears streamed down your cheeks, your breath stuttering in painful, uneven gasps. Joshua took your hands without hesitation, bringing them to his chest to warm them. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. And then, quieter than a breath, you said it: “I don’t want to live anymore.” Joshua froze. His eyes widened for a second before they softened completely, filling with tears he couldn’t blink away.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you so securely that your shaking body finally found something steady to cling to. “Oh, Y/N…” His voice cracked on your name. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry you’ve been feeling like this.” He stroked your hair with slow, deliberate tenderness. “You’re not weak. You’re not a burden. You’re just hurting. And I want to help you through this not from far away, but right beside you.” You sobbed harder against him, and he tucked his face into your shoulder, letting a quiet tear slip down his cheek. “Please stay. Please stay with me. We’ll get through this together. You don’t have to survive this alone.” And for the rest of the night, Joshua kept you wrapped in his arms, grounding you with every breath he took.

JUN

Jun had always noticed subtle things about you the way your shoulders tensed when you thought no one was looking, the slight tremor in your hands when you held a cup, the quiet sighs that escaped you when the day got too heavy. He didn’t comment because he wanted to earn your trust, not push you away, but he felt it deep in his chest: you were carrying more than anyone should. That night, when he returned from practice and found you huddled on the living room floor, knees pressed to your chest and face buried in your arms, he felt a panic that made his heart thud painfully. He knelt beside you, unsure what to do at first, then slowly lifted one trembling hand to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Hey… it’s okay. I’m right here,” he whispered.

Your gaze flicked to him, wide and unsteady, and your voice cracked when you finally spoke, “I… I don’t want to live anymore…” Those words pierced him like a knife. He immediately scooped you into his arms, letting your small frame collapse against him, holding you as if letting go would mean losing you forever. “No… no, you’re not saying that. Not to me, not to anyone,” he murmured, rocking you gently, his hand rubbing circles into your back. He could feel your trembling against him, hear your uneven breathing, and he hated that you had suffered in silence for so long.

Jun pressed his forehead to yours, voice breaking slightly, “You are tired, I know. You’ve been holding everything inside for so long. But you don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll fight this with you, step by step, breath by breath.” He held you tighter when your sobs shook you violently, whispering reassurance into your hair. “You are loved. You are precious. You are not a burden. And I promise, I will never let you feel alone again.” Hours passed, and Jun remained there, holding you through every tear, every shiver, every small gasp for air, letting you know through every heartbeat, every touch, that you had a lifeline, and he would never let go.

HOSHI

Hoshi had always been the energetic one, the spark that lifted everyone’s mood, but when he saw you like this, all of that energy drained instantly. He found you on the bedroom floor, curled up, knees hugged to your chest, shaking with silent sobs. The sight of you broke him, a knot tightening in his chest, a raw ache he couldn’t ignore. He knelt slowly beside you, careful not to startle you, and placed a hand gently on your back. “Hey… what’s wrong? Please, talk to me,” he said, voice softer than usual, almost trembling under the weight of his worry.

When you finally whispered the words, almost too quiet for him to hear, “I don’t want to live anymore,” he felt the world tilt under him. Panic surged through his veins, but he swallowed it down, focusing all his energy on you. He wrapped you in his arms immediately, pulling you close so tightly that you could feel the pounding of his heart against your own. “No, no, no… that’s not real. That’s not true. You’re not alone. You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured repeatedly, his voice breaking slightly as he fought to stay steady for you.

Hoshi rested his chin on your shoulder, letting you cry as long as you needed, whispering over and over, “I’m here. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He rubbed your back in slow, rhythmic circles, feeling every shiver, every sob, every tremble. “You’re too important, too alive, too loved. I will not let you disappear. We’ll get through this together. One step at a time. Breath by breath. I promise, okay?” His voice was raw with emotion, filled with desperate love, enveloping you like a shield, letting you know without doubt that you were not facing your darkness alone.

WONWOO

Wonwoo had always been calm, composed, the quiet observer who noticed everything, but tonight his usual calm was strained under the weight of fear. He had sensed something wrong in your messages for weeks, felt it in your energy during moments when you didn’t think anyone was watching. Now, seeing you tear-streaked, trembling, sitting on the edge of the bench in the park under the dim glow of a streetlamp, he felt panic rise inside him. He knelt in front of you, taking your hands gently in his own, searching your eyes for answers. “Talk to me… what’s wrong?” His voice was steady, but you could hear the worry lurking beneath, the crack in his calmness that he tried to hide.

Your voice shook as you barely whispered, “I… don’t want to live anymore.” Wonwoo froze, the words echoing inside him like thunder. Then, instinctively, he pulled you close, wrapping you in a seated hug, one arm around your shoulders, the other hand cradling your face. “Shh… no. Don’t say that. You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured, forehead pressed to yours. He stayed like that, letting you cry into him, stroking your hair with deliberate tenderness, whispering, “I’m here. You’re not alone. You don’t have to face this alone anymore.”

Wonwoo’s gaze never left yours, grounding you, keeping you anchored in reality when the darkness felt suffocating. “I don’t care what it takes. We’ll get help. We’ll fight this together. I’m not leaving you. I promise,” he said, voice soft but full of unshakable resolve. He stayed with you until the trembling in your hands slowed, until the tears came less violently, until your breathing returned to a fragile rhythm. And even when you fell asleep against him, Wonwoo stayed, holding you, a silent sentinel ensuring that you finally felt safe.

WOOZI

Woozi’s first reaction was panic, even though he tried to suppress it. He was usually the composed one, the planner, the person who kept control, but seeing you fall apart in front of him shook him to the core. He found you sitting on the couch, trembling, hands covering your face, and his chest ached with a mixture of fear and guilt. Without thinking, he kneeled in front of you, gently lifting your hands to look into your eyes. “What… what’s going on? Talk to me,” he said, voice trembling for the first time in a way you had never heard.

When you whispered the words, “I don’t want to live anymore,” Woozi felt his stomach drop. He wrapped you in his arms immediately, letting you collapse against him, your sobs breaking through his heart. “No… no, that’s not true. You’re not saying that. You’re not going anywhere. Hear me?” His voice cracked, raw and vulnerable, and he hid none of it. He stroked your hair, rocking you gently, whispering reassurance over and over. “You’re not alone anymore. I’m here. You’re safe with me. You don’t have to carry this alone. Ever.”

Woozi’s own eyes glistened with tears, but he stayed strong, steadying you with every motion, every word, every heartbeat. “You’re too important. Too loved. Too strong. I won’t let you face this darkness alone. Not tonight. Not ever.” He held you through every tremor, every sob, every shaky breath, making sure that in his arms, you finally felt something you hadn’t in a long time: safety, warmth, and a connection that reminded you that you were not, and would never be, alone.

DOKYEOM

Dokyeom had always been the bright, cheerful presence, the kind of person whose laughter could fill a room and make heavy days feel lighter. But the moment he saw you that night, curled up on the floor of your room, shoulders shaking and face buried in your arms, his usual warmth faltered. He felt a rush of panic and helplessness, something he rarely allowed himself to feel. He immediately knelt beside you, carefully tilting your chin up with trembling fingers to look into your eyes. “Hey… please talk to me. You’re scaring me,” he whispered, voice thick with worry.

Your voice cracked as you spoke the words you had been holding in for far too long: “I… I don’t want to live anymore…” Those words hit him like a punch to the chest, and for a moment he felt the world shrink around him. Without thinking, he pulled you into his arms, letting your trembling body collapse against his chest. “No… no, that’s not true. You’re not going anywhere, okay? Not now, not ever,” he murmured, rocking you gently. Every sob, every tremor, every uneven breath you released made his heart ache, and he wished more than anything he could take the pain from you.

He held you as if the world itself depended on it, pressing gentle kisses to your hair and forehead, whispering your name over and over like a lifeline. “You’re not a burden. You’re not weak. You’re loved. So loved. I promise, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together. You don’t have to be alone anymore.” Hours passed, and Dokyeom never let go. He let you cry, he let you tremble, he let you exist in your pain while holding you as tightly and safely as he could, making sure that you finally felt seen, valued, and loved.

MINGYU

Mingyu had always noticed things that others didn’t. He noticed how your smiles had grown smaller over time, how your laughter had lost its spark, how your energy slowly dimmed in ways only he seemed to recognize. That night, when he found you sitting on the balcony steps, knees drawn up and tears streaming freely, his chest tightened. He immediately crouched beside you, one hand resting lightly on your shoulder, the other on your knee, unsure how to reach across the weight you were carrying. “Hey… you’re scaring me,” he whispered softly, voice low and trembling with urgency.

When you finally choked out the words, “I don’t want to live anymore…” Mingyu felt the floor fall beneath him. He wrapped you into a tight embrace immediately, cradling your head against his chest as if he could shield you from the pain just by holding you. “No. No. That’s not true. That’s not real. You’re not alone. You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured, over and over, voice breaking slightly. He felt tears prickling his own eyes as he rubbed your back, pressing gentle but firm reassurances into your trembling body.

Mingyu held you there for what felt like hours, rocking you slowly, whispering words that he hoped could anchor you back to the world. “You’re too important, too precious. You are loved beyond measure, and I am not letting you go. You don’t have to carry this pain alone anymore. We’ll face it together, okay?” He stayed there through every sob, every shiver, every small gasp of fear, letting his presence remind you, without doubt, that you were not invisible, not alone, and not unloved.

MINGHAO

Minghao was usually calm, precise, and measured, but when he saw you like this, all of his composure threatened to crumble. He had sensed the subtle cracks in your façade over the past few weeks, the small changes in your posture, the delayed responses, the quiet sighs he almost missed. But seeing you now knees drawn to your chest, shaking, face wet with tears he felt something inside him break. He immediately knelt before you, gently lifting your hands and holding them in his own, searching your eyes for answers. “Talk to me… please. You don’t have to hide anything from me,” he said softly, voice barely above a whisper but heavy with concern.

When you murmured, almost inaudibly, “I don’t want to live anymore,” Minghao felt the world tilt, a strange combination of fear, sorrow, and determination flooding through him. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight embrace, resting his chin on your shoulder and letting you cry against him. “Shh… it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re not going anywhere,” he whispered, voice trembling slightly despite his usual calm. He stroked your hair, rubbed your back, and let the warmth of his body be a shield against the darkness that threatened to engulf you.

He whispered over and over, letting each word anchor you: “You’re not a burden. You’re loved more than you can imagine. I will not let you face this alone. We’ll find a way through it, together. Step by step, breath by breath, I will stay with you.” Minghao stayed like that for hours, letting your tears fall, letting your body tremble, letting your cries release all the weight you’d been holding in. In his arms, you felt a fragile sense of safety, a connection that reminded you that someone would always fight to keep you here, to keep you breathing, to keep you alive.

SEUNGKWAN

Seungkwan had always been sensitive to shifts in people’s energy especially yours. He could read your mood from the way you breathed, the way you blinked, the way your shoulders sat when you thought no one was looking. Lately, he’d noticed the spark in you dimming, little by little: shorter replies, quieter laughs, longer silences. He told himself not to overthink it, but tonight his instincts screamed at him the moment he walked into the room and saw you sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor like the world had stopped moving for you.

He approached slowly, almost afraid of what he might hear. “Hey… you okay? Talk to me,” he said gently, sitting beside you but not touching you until you let him.

You didn’t look up. Your voice was hollow, shaking. “I’m done, Seungkwan… I’m just… done with everything.”

The words weren’t loud, but they hit him like a punch to the gut. His breath hitched just barely but you felt it. He turned instantly, cupping your face with both hands, forcing your gaze to meet his. His eyes were already glistening.

“Done with what? Done how? Talk to me, please,” he pleaded, voice trembling, raw.

When the tears started falling down your cheeks, he didn’t let you look away. He pulled you into his arms, hugging you so tightly it felt like he was trying to hold the pieces of you together with his own body. His hand pressed against the back of your head, steady and grounding.

“I’m not letting you go through this alone,” he whispered into your hair, his own voice cracking. “You hear me? I’m here. I’ll stay as long as it takes. Cry, talk, scream whatever you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

He let you sob into his shirt, let your shaking body melt into his chest. He rubbed your back in slow circles, kissing the top of your head every so often, whispering affirmations through each tremble.

“You’re overwhelmed, not defeated. And you’re not facing any of this without me again. I’m not letting you drown in this by yourself.”

And for the first time in weeks, you felt like someone truly saw you.

VERNON

Vernon had this quiet way of observing you, catching details other people didn’t think mattered. He knew the exact rhythm of your voice, the normal pace of your steps, the usual softness in your eyes. When that rhythm started breaking slower steps, blank eyes, delayed reactions he noticed. He didn’t push you, didn’t interrogate you, but he stayed close, watching, waiting, trying to give you space without truly leaving you alone.

Tonight, you were sitting on the floor beside the coffee table, arms wrapped around your knees, staring into nothing. Vernon approached, sitting on the floor next to you, knees touching but not saying a word. You didn’t speak either not until you exhaled shakily and whispered:

“I just want to end it all. I don’t have anything left.”

He froze. It was subtle, but his whole body tensed. He turned his head slowly, studying your face, looking for any sign of what you truly meant. His heart began to pound in his chest, not with panic but with a deep, aching fear.

He shifted closer, carefully taking your hand in his, his fingers trembling more than yours. “What do you mean?” he asked softly, voice low but steady. “Like… you want a break? Or like you’re giving up?”

The silence that followed terrified him.

He swallowed hard, reaching out to gently pull you into his arms. He tucked your head beneath his chin, hand sliding up to the back of your neck.

“Hey… hey. I’m right here. Please don’t shut me out,” he whispered. “You don’t have to pretend you’re fine. You don’t have to carry everything alone. I’m not judging you. I’m not leaving you. Just talk to me.”

Your breathing broke, your fingers clutching desperately at his hoodie, and he held you tighter tighter than he ever had.

“I know you’re exhausted. I know life feels heavy. But I promise you… you’re not facing this shit alone. I’m with you. Every step. I’m not letting you fall.”

He stayed like that for hours, grounding you with quiet hums, warm hands, and soft, constant presence exactly what you needed.

DINO

Dino had always looked at you like you were someone he could protect, someone he cherished more deeply than he knew how to express. He wasn’t always the best with words, but he felt everything intensely. And lately, he had felt you slipping not away from him, but away from yourself. You were quieter, more distant, lost in thought even when he held your hand.

Tonight, when he found you in the practice room sitting on the floor, head in your hands, trying to hide the fact that you were crying his heart nearly stopped. He walked toward you slowly, kneeling in front of you, his hands hovering as if afraid to touch you without permission.

“Baby? Look at me,” he whispered.

When you finally looked up, eyes red and tired, the sight carved a deep ache into his chest. You inhaled shakily and said:

“I’m just… done with all of this. I can’t do it anymore.”

The words were soft, but they terrified him. He didn’t hear exhaustion — he heard defeat. Something inside him snapped, and he immediately pulled you into his arms, wrapping you tightly against his chest.

You could feel his breath shaking against your shoulder.

“Don’t say it like that,” he murmured, voice barely holding together. “You’re tired. You’re overwhelmed. But don’t say you’re done. Not like that. Not to me.”

He held the back of your head, guiding your face into his neck as you cried. His other arm wrapped around your waist protectively, almost desperately.

“I’m here. I’m right here. You’re not alone. You don’t have to be strong right now. You can cry, fall apart, whatever you need I’ll hold you together until you’re okay again.”

Your body trembled harder, and he hugged you even tighter, whispering repeatedly, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”