Kpop Sickfics & Hurtfics

Breathe Through It (Woobin)

The bright lights of the studio gleamed overhead, casting a warm glow across the set as Cravity gathered for another live broadcast. It wasn't anything they hadn't done before—a casual talk show appearance where they could interact with fans, play some lighthearted games, and discuss their latest comeback. Woobin, as always, sat comfortably in his usual spot, flanked by Serim and Allen. His heart thumped steadily in his chest, and the laughter and excitement from the other members filled the air around him.

The broadcast started smoothly. The host welcomed them with enthusiasm, and the group exchanged playful banter with one another, sharing inside jokes that had the audience laughing along with them. Woobin smiled and nodded at the right moments, contributing when necessary, but beneath his composed exterior, a storm was brewing.

He had been feeling off lately. The pressure from their promotions had been steadily mounting—vocal rehearsals, choreography practice, and sleepless nights preparing for the comeback. Being Cravity's main vocalist, Woobin always felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He wanted to give fans the best version of himself, to hit every note flawlessly, and to never disappoint those who supported them. But lately, that pressure had begun to feel suffocating, like a heavy weight pressing down on his chest.

At first, it was manageable. He'd pushed through, like always. But now, sitting under the intense studio lights, the host's questions swirling around him, Woobin felt the first warning signs of something he couldn't ignore.

His heart began to race, pounding against his ribs like a drum out of sync. His breaths became shallow, and a tightness coiled around his chest, making it harder to inhale fully. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but the words seemed to blur, slipping away as his vision clouded with dizzying static.

Stay calm, Woobin, he told himself, trying to quell the rising panic. You've done this a hundred times. You're fine.

But he wasn't fine. The more he tried to regulate his breathing, the more erratic it became. His hands, resting on his lap, began to tremble subtly, and a wave of nausea rolled through his stomach. Woobin clenched his fists tightly, attempting to ground himself, but his mind was spiraling too fast.

Next to him, Serim glanced over, noticing the slight shift in Woobin's posture. As the leader, Serim had an acute sense of when something was wrong with his members, and Woobin's pale face and stiff shoulders were all the signs he needed. He subtly shifted closer, his eyes flicking to Allen, who sat on Woobin's other side.

Allen, always in tune with the group's energy, had picked up on it too. He glanced at Woobin with quiet concern, his smile faltering as he registered the discomfort radiating from his friend. He quickly decided to take action without drawing attention to Woobin's state. As the camera panned away momentarily to focus on the host, Allen leaned in ever so slightly.

"You okay, Woobin?" Allen whispered, his voice barely audible over the general chatter.

Woobin couldn't muster a full response. His throat felt tight, and the words stuck in his mouth. He gave a weak nod, but it was clear from his trembling hands and shallow breaths that he wasn't okay at all.

Serim, sensing the urgency of the situation, gently placed a hand on Woobin's knee under the table, offering a grounding touch. "Just breathe," Serim murmured softly, his voice low and calm, as if he were discussing something trivial. "Focus on your breathing, Woobin. We've got you."

Woobin tried. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, willing himself to follow Serim's advice, to slow his breathing and steady his racing heart. But the panic had already taken root, and it was growing uncontrollably. His mind screamed at him to get up, to flee, to find a quiet space where he could breathe again. But they were live. The cameras were rolling. He couldn't just leave.