Kpop Sickfics and Hurtfics Part 2

Grounded by You (Seongmin)

Carateume47

Seongmin had always been the one to carry the weight of the world with a soft smile. His quiet resilience was his strength—a foundation that grounded him and his group, always offering steadiness in the whirlwind of schedules, performances, and the public eye. No matter how heavy the burden, he bore it with grace, never letting anyone see the cracks beneath. But lately, that strength had begun to falter.

It wasn’t one catastrophic event or a single breaking point. It was a slow, creeping unraveling, like a thread tugged too far until the entire fabric threatened to fall apart. His body felt foreign, stiff where it should have been fluid, heavy where it should have been light. Movements that once came effortlessly were now labored. His breath, once steady and controlled, had turned shallow and uneven. The world around him felt distant, muffled, as though he were trapped behind a pane of glass, watching himself from the outside.

Practice sessions became battles he couldn’t seem to win. His usually flawless routines now felt rigid and imprecise, every step heavier than the last. Recording sessions, once his safe haven of creativity and expression, became grueling climbs, his voice trembling with effort and lacking the clarity he had always taken pride in. Even fansigns, events that had always filled him with joy and connection, felt suffocating. The lights were too bright, the noise too loud, the smiles too difficult to maintain.

But Seongmin didn’t know how to articulate what was wrong. He didn’t know how to explain the exhaustion that clawed at him or the anxiety that weighed on his chest like a stone. So he didn’t. Instead, he masked it all behind practiced grins and half-hearted jokes, brushing off the growing concern in his members’ eyes.

At first, it worked. The others didn’t notice much beyond his usual quiet demeanor. Seongmin had always been reserved, and they chalked it up to a passing mood or fatigue. But little by little, the cracks in his façade began to show.

Minhee, ever the perfectionist, was the first to notice the tiny mistakes in Seongmin’s routines—the split-second hesitations, the stiffness in his movements. Jungmo, always attentive, caught the way Seongmin lingered after vocal practice, staring at the sheet music as though lost in another world. Wonjin noticed the way Seongmin’s laughter didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore, his voice lacking the warmth it usually carried.

And then there was Taeyoung.

Taeyoung noticed everything. He noticed the tremor in Seongmin’s hands when he thought no one was looking, the way his breathing hitched when conversations grew too loud or schedules became overwhelming. Taeyoung saw the way Seongmin recoiled from touch, flinched at sudden noises, and retreated further into himself with each passing day. And though Taeyoung tried to reach out, Seongmin always deflected, always insisting he was fine.

The breaking point came after a fansign.

From the outside, it had gone off without a hitch. Seongmin greeted fans with his usual soft smile, signing albums and thanking them with gentle sincerity. But backstage, the weight he had been carrying finally became too much.

As soon as they were away from the public eye, Seongmin collapsed into a chair, his chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow gasps. His hands trembled violently as he clutched at his chest, tears spilling down his cheeks in uncontrollable streams. The room felt too small, the walls closing in on him, the air suffocating.

The others noticed immediately.

“Seongmin!” Wonjin was the first to rush forward, his voice tight with panic. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Are you hurt?” Jungmo asked, hovering beside him, his worry evident.

But Seongmin shook his head, his voice coming out in a broken rasp. “Stay back! Please… just—just stay back.” His wide, tear-filled eyes darted around the room, his vision tunneling as the panic consumed him.