JUST STAY🫀
KIM SEUNGMIN x IDOL!READER
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🛸── .✦ slight angst. comfort. fluff. requested!
Things take a sudden turn when you faint during your performance. You wake up to Seungmin glued to your side being protective as ever, while everyone else can’t help but tease him about it.
❛ ━━━━━━･❪🐶❫･━━━━━━ ❜
Kim Seungmin sat poised under the harsh glow of stage lights, dressed in sharp black that made him look every bit the polished idol the industry adored. His posture was straight, hands folded neatly in his lap—but his eyes?
They weren’t on the stage monitors.
They weren’t on the hosts.
They were on you.
Your group had just been announced.
The cheers surged through the venue, deafening, but Seungmin barely reacted. His lips pressed into a thin line, something soft flickering in his gaze as you took your position under the spotlight. You looked unreal—glittering outfit, hair perfectly styled, that confident smile you always wore before a performance.
He knew that smile. He knew what it hid sometimes.
The music started.
And just like that, you were gone—lost in the choreography, the rhythm, the precision that made your group one of the best. Seungmin leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees now, eyes following you like a tether.
You hit every move.
Every turn.
Every note.
But then, something faltered.
It was subtle. So subtle no one else seemed to catch it. A split-second delay. A blink too long. Your hand barely missed its mark before correcting.
Seungmin noticed. Of course he did. His brows furrowed, body tensing.
“Hyung—” he murmured under his breath, not even sure who he was addressing.
Onstage, you pushed through.
You always did.
But your steps grew heavier. Your movements—just a fraction slower. The lights seemed brighter, harsher, swallowing you whole as the chorus built again.
Seungmin’s jaw tightened.
Something’s wrong.
Then it happened.
Mid-spin, your body swayed—too far.
Too much.
And before anyone could process it, you collapsed.
The music kept going for half a second too long. Gasps rippled through the audience. Your members froze, breaking formation as one of them dropped to your side.
Seungmin was already on his feet.
His chair scraped loudly against the floor, drawing attention—but he didn’t care. Didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate.
He was moving before anyone could stop him.
“Seungmin!” someone called after him, maybe one of the members, but it barely registered.
His heart was pounding so loud it drowned everything else out.
Security had already rushed onto the stage, lifting you carefully, quickly. Your head lolled slightly, completely unresponsive, and something inside Seungmin snapped.
“Move—!”
His voice came out sharper than intended as he pushed past staff, past cameras, past anyone in his way.
He didn’t wait for permission.
Didn’t care about protocols or appearances.
All that mattered was you.
By the time he reached backstage, they were already carrying you down the hallway.
“Careful—careful—” a medic was saying, but Seungmin barely heard it.
He rushed forward, slipping past them until he was right there, right beside you.
“Hey,” His voice broke, hands hovering uselessly for a second before gently cradling the side of your face. “I’m here. I’m here.”
No response.
Your skin felt too warm.
“Why is she so warm?” he snapped, panic bleeding through every word as he looked up at the medics. “Did she eat? Did she—what happened?!”
“Sir, please—give us space—”
“No.” It came out immediate. Firm. Unyielding.
He didn’t move.
Couldn’t.
Even as they laid you down on a stretcher, even as they started checking your pulse, your breathing—Seungmin stayed right there, hovering, eyes locked on you like if he looked away, something worse might happen.
“Her pulse is weak—get the oxygen—” One of the medics shouted.
Seungmin’s hands clenched.
“Baby,” he called softly now, voice trembling despite his effort to steady it. His thumb brushed against your cheek, grounding himself more than you. “Hey… this isn’t funny. Open your eyes.”
Nothing.
His chest tightened painfully.
You always answered him.
Always.
“Come on…” he whispered, leaning closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “You said you’d watch the rest of the show with me after this, remember? Don’t—don’t do this.”
The medics moved around him, efficient but urgent, placing an oxygen mask over your face.
“Sir, we need to take her to the medical room—”
“I’m coming.”
It wasn’t a question.
They didn’t argue.
Seungmin stayed by your side as they wheeled you down the hallway, his hand never leaving yours now, gripping tightly like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go.
His mind was racing—every possible scenario crashing into him all at once.
You hadn’t been sleeping enough.
You skipped meals when schedules got tight.
You always said you were fine.
And he should’ve noticed sooner.
His grip tightened.
“Just stay with me,” he murmured, barely audible over the noise. “Just… stay.”
For the first time that night, Kim Seungmin didn’t care about the cameras.
Didn’t care about the show.
Didn’t care about anything except the girl lying in front of him and the terrifying silence where your voice should’ve been.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
The chaos faded away slowly, dragging out in agonizing seconds that felt like hours.
The frantic footsteps turned into hushed murmurs. The blinding stage lights were replaced by the soft, sterile glow of a medical room. The noise of the award show became distant, muffled behind closed doors.
And you finally stabilized.
Seungmin hadn’t moved.
Not when the doctors came in.
Not when they checked your vitals again and again.
Not when they gently tried to usher him aside.
He stayed right beside you.
“The IV’s working well,” the doctor finally said after what felt like hours, glancing at the monitor before looking at him. “She was severely dehydrated. There’s also a mild fever, likely from exhaustion and stress.”
Seungmin swallowed hard, eyes flickering back to your face.
“She’ll be okay?” he asked, voice quieter now—but still tight.
“Yes,” the doctor reassured. “She just needs proper rest. Fluids, sleep, and no strenuous activity for a while. Her body basically forced her to stop.”
That hit harder than anything else.
Forced.
Because she wouldn’t.
Seungmin nodded slowly, jaw clenched. “Thank you.”
When the room finally cleared, silence settled in.
Real silence this time.
Just the faint beeping of the monitor. The soft drip of the IV. The steady rise and fall of your chest.
Seungmin exhaled shakily, finally allowing himself to sit properly beside your bed. His hand found yours again instinctively, fingers wrapping around it like second nature.
You were still warm but not burning anymore.
“Unbelievable…” he muttered under his breath, though there was no real bite to it. Just worry. His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles.
“You really had to scare me like that, huh?”
No answer.
But that didn’t stop him.
“You skipped meals again, didn’t you?” he continued softly, eyes never leaving you. “And let me guess—you said you were fine when you weren’t.”
His grip tightened just a little bit, as if he were trying to pull some of your exhaustion into himself.
“I told you so many times… you don’t always have to push through everything alone.”
The words came out quieter and rougher than he intended, sounding much more vulnerable in the empty room.
Time started to pass—minutes stretched into maybe hours, but he didn’t bother to check his phone or the clock on the wall.
He didn’t care about the time.
At some point, he shifted even closer to you, resting his head lightly against the side of the bed near your arm while still holding onto your hand. His other hand absentmindedly brushed stray strands of hair away from your forehead, his touch careful and gentle, as if he were afraid you might break if he pressed too hard.
“I’m right here,” he murmured, almost unconsciously. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And he meant it.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
When you finally woke up, the process was painfully slow and heavy.
Your body felt… wrong. Weak. Like even breathing took effort.
Your fingers twitched first.
And Seungmin noticed immediately.
His head snapped up, his eyes wide and alert, all traces of his own exhaustion vanishing in an instant.
“Hey—hey—” he leaned forward quickly, grip tightening around your hand. “YN?”
Your lashes fluttered. Vision blurry.
“…Seungmin…?”
The sound of your voice, however weak, made relief hit him so hard it almost physically hurt.
“Yeah, yeah—I’m here,” he said quickly, voice softer now but still laced with urgency. His free hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently under your eye.
“Don’t try to move too much, okay? Just—just stay like this.”
You blinked slowly, trying to process everything.
“…what… happened…?”
“You fainted,” he answered immediately, the words slipping out before he could soften them. Then his expression shifted, concern overtaking everything again. “On stage. You scared everyone—especially me.”
Your brows knitted faintly, guilt creeping in—but before you could even speak, he cut you off.
“Don’t.”
His tone wasn’t harsh. Just firm.
Protective.
“You’re not apologizing,” he said, leaning closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “Not when you pushed yourself to this point.”
You went quiet.
His thumb continued to trace slow, soothing patterns against your skin.
“You’re dehydrated. Fever. Stress,” he listed softly, eyes scanning your face like he needed constant reassurance you were really awake. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself.”
“…I’m okay now,” you whispered weakly, trying to offer him a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.
His expression tightened.
“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing your hair back again. “Because your body literally gave up on you.”
There was no anger.
Just quiet frustration and overwhelming relief.
Then, his hand slid more securely around yours, fingers intertwining.
“Do you have any idea what that felt like?” he asked, voice dropping, barely above a whisper. “Watching you fall and not being able to get to you fast enough?”
Your chest tightened.
“I’m sorry—”
“I said no apologizing.” Softer this time but still firm.
He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a brief second before opening them again—this time gentler.
“You just…” his voice wavered slightly, and he huffed out a quiet breath, almost like he was steadying himself. “You have to stay. Okay?”
Your heart skipped a beat at the desperation in his request. His forehead finally came to rest against yours now, his touch careful not to disturb the IV line.
“Stay with me,” he repeated, softer. “That’s all I’m asking.”
You squeezed his hand weakly in response.
“I will…”
That was enough for him. It was more than enough.
Seungmin let out a long, quiet breath, and you could feel his shoulders finally relaxing for the first time since you'd collapsed. His thumb brushed your cheek again, slower now—tender, affectionate, and grounding.
“Good,” he murmured.
Then, after a beat, his tone shifted just slightly, becoming a bit warmer and more like the Seungmin you knew.
“By the way, you’re officially banned from performing until you’re fully okay.”
You blinked.
“Seungmin—”
“I’m serious.”
But there was no real bite to it.
Just care. Overflowing, unmistakable care.
He adjusted your blanket gently, making sure you were comfortable before settling back into his seat—but still close, still within reach.
Still holding your hand.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
The quiet didn’t last long; it never really did when your groups were involved.
The door burst open with barely a warning, a mix of familiar voices spilling into the room all at once.
“YN—!”
“Are you okay?!”
“Oh my god, you scared us—!”
Your members rushed in first, followed closely by the rest of Stray Kids, all of them crowding toward your bed with wide eyes and relieved smiles. The energy shifted instantly—warm, loud, overwhelming in the best way.
You barely had time to react before the first hug came.
“Hey—careful—”
Seungmin’s hand was already there, gently but firmly catching your member by the arm after a couple of seconds, easing her back.
“She just woke up,” he said, tone calm but unmistakably protective. “Not too tight.”
“I wasn’t even squeezing—!”
“You were about to.”
Another member leaned in, hugging you from the other side.
“Missed you,” she murmured softly.
Seungmin gave it exactly three seconds. Then, he moved again.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
He lightly pulled her back too, positioning himself just slightly closer to you, one hand still holding yours like a constant anchor.
The room erupted in protests.
“Kim Seungmin—!”
“Let her breathe, at least!”
“We’re not going to break her!”
“I know,” he replied simply, unfazed. “But you will tire her out.”
And just like that, he adjusted your blanket again, subtly putting himself between you and the crowd without even realizing it.
He was hovering, guarding you with a quiet, clinging intensity that he didn't even seem to realize he was projecting. You couldn’t help the small, tired smile that tugged at your lips despite the lingering weakness in your limbs.
“I’m okay,” you murmured, voice still soft but clearer now. “Really… I like that they’re here.”
Seungmin’s grip tightened slightly.
“You do?” he asked, glancing at you like he needed confirmation.
You nodded faintly.
“Yeah.”
There was a brief beat of silence. Then the room exploded all over again.
“SEE?” Jisung pointed dramatically. “Even YN wants us here!”
“Blink twice if he’s holding you hostage,” Minho added, crouching slightly to your level with a grin.
You let out a weak laugh, actually blinking twice just to play along.
“Wow,” Changbin snorted. “That’s crazy.”
Seungmin sighed, long-suffering, but his hand didn’t leave yours.
“Very funny,” he muttered. “She’s still on medication. Don’t encourage her.”
“Listen to him,” Hyunjin teased. “He thinks he’s her bodyguard now.”
“I am right now,” he shot back without missing a beat.
That only made it worse.
“Possessive much?”
“Relax Seungmin, we’ll give her back.” One of your members teased.
“Give her—” he frowned, visibly offended now. “She’s not an object.”
“Okay but you’re acting like she’s a limited edition collectible” someone laughed.
Even you couldn’t hold back your smile now.
Through all the teasing, all the noise, Seungmin stayed exactly where he was—right beside you, shoulder brushing the bed, fingers intertwined with yours like he needed that constant reassurance.
Every now and then, he’d gently remind someone,
“Not too loud.”
“Give her space.”
“Don’t lean over her like that.”
It was constant and unwavering. Underneath the banter, everyone in the room could see it that he was just profoundly relieved. They all were. The frantic energy slowly softened after a while, the laughter settling into something quieter and more comfortable.
“You really scared us,” one of your members said softly, brushing your arm.
“Don’t do that again,” another added.
You nodded faintly.
“I’ll try not to.”
“Try harder,” Seungmin muttered under his breath.
That earned him another round of teasing, but it was lighter this time.
Eventually, reality began to creep back in. One by one, they had to start leaving—schedules were calling, and the staff were hovering in the hallway.
“Rest, okay?”
“Message us when you wake up again.”
“We’ll visit tomorrow.”
“Don’t let him stress you out,” someone added with a grin, pointing at Seungmin.
“I’m not the problem here,” he replied flatly.
“You are the problem.”
The door finally closed behind them, leaving a trail of soft laughter echoing in the hallway. And just like that—it was quiet again.
Seungmin exhaled a long, slow breath, the tension in his shoulders finally easing as the room settled back into a peaceful calm. His thumb started brushing over the back of your hand absentmindedly again, a rhythmic motion that seemed to ground him.
Then he looked at you, his eyes soft and searching.
“You’re smiling,” he noted quietly.
“I’m glad they came.”
“I know”
Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping into a whisper that was meant only for you.
His fingers tightened gently around yours.
“But don’t get used to that,” he added under his breath, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Next time, I’m locking the door.”
You huffed out a weak laugh.
“Seungmin…”
“I’m serious,” he murmured, though the corner of his lips twitched just slightly. His forehead rested lightly against yours again, careful, protective.
“You scared me enough already.”
His thumb brushed your knuckles again, slower this time.
“I like you here,” he said simply. “Like this. Awake. Safe. With me.”
Your chest tightened a little at the words.
Seungmin let out a small breath, almost like he was letting go of all the fear he’d been holding in since earlier.
Then, softer—almost teasing, but still warm,
“So don’t faint again, okay? I’m not built for that kind of stress.”
A faint smile tugged at your lips.
“I’ll try.”
“That’s not good enough,” he replied immediately, but there was no real bite to it. His hand squeezed yours gently. “Promise me properly.”
You looked at him for a moment, then gave a small nod.
“I promise.”
That seemed to settle something in him.
Seungmin’s shoulders relaxed just a little more, and he leaned in, pressing the lightest kiss to your forehead—careful, lingering just long enough to mean everything he wasn’t saying out loud.
“Good,” he murmured against your skin. Then, pulling back slightly, his usual tone slipped back in just a bit.
“Now sleep. Before I start writing a complaint to your company.”
You let out a quiet laugh, eyes already heavy again.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I absolutely would,” he said without hesitation, still holding your hand. “And I’d win.”
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
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