If you or someone you know is having suicidal thoughts, reach out. Numbers, friends, strangers. Anyone. It'll feel like the hardest thing you've ever done but please don't let it be the last. People care about you. I do.
Tags: Suicide, 9th member!reader, overdose, lmk if i missed anything!
It was a good day at first.
Your interview had gone well, Chan finished working on a song, everything was truly great.
So why didn't it feel like it? Why did it feel like your throat was sandpaper, your heart weighed a thousand pounds and your soul like it was dead even as your heart kept beating?
You were all around a table, eating dinner, talking, laughing. Except you weren't hungry, your eyes were blurry, and your smile didn't quite reach your eyes. It hadn't in a while.
You didn't really understand what pushed you to do it, not that you wanted to know.
Maybe it was how they laughed at something you coudn't hear when you left to wash your hands, making you wonder if they'd heal eventually without you. Maybe it was all the comments and posts from anti's that stabbed you a little deeper each time. Maybe it was all of it.
But you got up again, and said you felt tired and didn't feel so hungry anymore. They all told you to sleep tight, to get rest, to get better, and when Felix asked if you'd be okay on your own you almost sobbed on the spot.
You assured him everything would be just fine, and you went to your room.
Closed the door.
Opened the drawer that stared back at you, taunting, everytime you were sat wide awake in bed, unable to sleep. Took out the letters you'd written time and time again before, placing them on your desk. One for each member, one for STAY's.
And you knew what they said; if you have letters to write, you have reasons to stay. But the reasons to leave just felt heavier, stronger, overtaking your mind and your body until you every step was so hard it made you want to cry, to throw up, to never move ever again.
So you put a bunch of pills in a cup, took a deep breath, and told yourself it'd be for the best.
That they'd be okay.
That they'd heal.
You went to the bathroom and prepared a bath, undressing and waiting for there to be enough water. You almost turned to look at yourself one last time in the mirror, but you knew it'd be useless. You didn't wanna spend your last moments seeing the thing you hated most, anyway.
When you got in, it was warm, soothing, almost calming as you put the earlier medication in your mouth and swallowed in one big gulp.
Your head filled with a thousand apologies.
Apologies for being too weak to keep going. Apologies for leaving them, mixed with apologies for not doing this sooner. Apologies for not being enough.
You closed your eyes, slowly letting your head sink under the water.
You didn't hear the knocking on the locked bathroom door, or Han's teasing voice calling out to you, saying you weren't in your room and he took your "secret love letters", starting to read the one with his name aloud.
Didn't hear the way his voice froze, before hesitantly, quietly continuing to speak, voice starting to tremble.
Didn't hear when he started hyperventilating, knocking like a madman, shouting at you that this wasn't funny and calling the others.
You didn't even hear when, minutes later, they managed to slam the door open, a sobbing Han and Changbin holding eachother while Seungmin stood frozen, tears silently spilling down his cheeks, wondering if it was his fault, if maybe he made one too many joke earlier.
Minho was calling the ER, Jeongin pacing and trying to muffle his sobs with his palm, thinking about every possible way he was going to lose a noona, his noona, while Chan tried calming everyone, panicking inside, the shiver in his voice giving him away.
Felix, the usually emotional one just stood in the doorway, eyes fixed on you like his brain just couldn't process what his eyes were seeing.
Hyunjin, the man who had always been stuck to your hip, ran inside the second the door opened, falling to his knees in front of the bathtub and ignoring the sharp pain as he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you out of the water, putting a towel over your body with shaking hands while he frantically sobbed out your name and begged variations of please don't leave me.
Didn't feel his hands beating rythmically over your chest, or the way his mouth covered yours to try and force air into your lungs.
Didn't feel the weight of him crumbling on your body, screaming his lungs out and sobbing louder than his voice ever was when you both sang in concerts.
Didn't hear how each of their hearts broke the second yours stopped beating.
!! ANY IDOL NAMES OTHER THAN SKZ ARE NOT REFFERING TO THEM. I JUST CHOOSE NAMES I LIKE, AND THAT'S THAT !!
A/N: Part 2 is finally posted, sorry life's been crazy TT might've been hit by the AO3 curse bc tell me why i almost went to the er 4 times in 3 days for my heart? Anyway, enjoy!
Tags: School AU, written with f!reader on mind, bandkid!han, popularkids!skz, mentions of fighting, tell me if I missed anything ;)
The first time you entered the music room, on a friday afternoon, you had to physically remember how to breathe.
You knew your school was pretty good with funds for their clubs, but that was a whole another level.
Members already chatting, a girl talking with her friend while she sat on a table, dangling her legs. They laughed together like the world wasn't their problem at the moment.
A guy was at a piano, arms crossed on it while he observed the said girl with what could only be described as pure heart eyes.
His own friends were laughing, one sat on a beanbag with a guitar over his lap and the other leaned against the wall.
It all looked like some kind of scene from a movie, the golden glow of the slow sunset coming in through the window.
"Hey, newbie, are you gonna just stand there?" Asked a voice from behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You turned around, face-to-face with Han. His shit-eating grin told you he'd probably make fun of you, but what he actually did was just chuckle and bump your shoulder playfully.
"Pretty cool, right? We managed to get the best room this year, again," he said proudly.
You blinked, surprised by how casual he seemed with you. "Uh... yeah. Pretty cool," you replied. "WaitâWhere's the guy that was behind the desk, for the inscriptions?" You asked, brows furrowing as you looked around the room.
"Oh, he's not in the club! He's just a friend of the girlfriend of a cousin of Junseoâaka, the guy at the piano. He volunteered to do it 'cause we said it'd look good on his report card," he explained. "Which is total bullshit, by the way."
He held back a laugh at the instant, visible relief on your face. "Why? You know him?"
You winced and slowly nodded. "Uh... Yes, you could say that."
One of the girls from earlier glanced up and squealed. "Hannie! There you are!" She said, smiling like she was Colgate's favourite effigy.
She got up and ran to hug his arm. "You're still coming over on saturday, right?" She giggled, probably not noticing how Piano Boy's eyes seemed to sadden like a puppy.
You faintly raised your brows, eyes barely squinting in a what the..? expression. You blinked out of it and walked further into the room.
"So!" Han spoke, clapping his hands. Everyone stopped and looked at him. "We gotta distribute the instruments. I'm still the male singer and on the guitar, obviously, along with Sunghoon over there."
'Sunghoon' nodded from the beanbag, lazily raising a hand.
"Junseo, are you still on the piano?" He asked, glancing at Mister Loverboy.
He nodded. "Yup!"
Han kept calling out to different people with different instruments, then turned to you. "So, newbie, whaddya think?" He asked with a grin.
"Uh... You're all cool?" You said, confused, not having paid any attention at all.
The others burst out in laughter, and he chuckled too, brows raising and his eyes squinting as he slightly bent over.
"Tell us something we don't know. But I meant what do you think about you? What instrument d'you wanna play?" He asked, his words laced with chuckles.
You nodded slowly, lips pursing in pure embarassment. "Uhh...â" you barely started speaking when someone cut you off.
"Wait, what about singing? Jena graduated, so we dont have any girl voice anymoreâexcept me, but I'm more background-chorus style," a brunette girl said, raising her hand.
Han blinked. "Oh, you're right..." His eyes widened like he had the best idea in the whole, wide world.
He turned to you and slowly grinned.
"Han, noâ" You started, raising your hands.
"Han, yes," he replied, grinning wide and grabbing both your hands, shaking them.
"Come on! At least think about it? You told me you didn't know what instrument you wanted to play!" He exclaimed.
You groaned, telling him you'd think about it.
Then, he went with the three guys from earlier, who you'd learned were called Junseoâaka the Piano Loverboy, Sunghoonâaka Guitar Guy, and Jaewonâthe one who leaned against the wall.
Miss Chorus with the Brown hair grabbed your hand. "Girl, you're litteraly so hot. Hang with us," she said.
Not asked.
Said, as she dragged you to the table with her other friend and sat up on it again.
"I'm Nari, by the way," said the brunette. "And this is Mi-hi," she pointed to her pastel-pink haired friend.
You spent an hour with the two girls, learning drama you knew Haneul would eat up like a shortcake. When people started leaving, you stayed behind, glancing at a remaining backpack.
Eyes narrowing, you crouched in front of it and took the small, dangling volleyball keychain from the side of it. "Does our school have a volleyball club now?.." You mumbled to yourself, examining the trinket.
"Nope," said the voice that you heard behind you way too many times for a single week.
You closed your eyes, wondering if the sky not-so-secretly hated you, and turned your head to face Han.
"It's from an anime my friend wants me to watch. It's called Haikyuu," he said. "By the way, what you're doing is pretty much backpack harassment," he said, pointing at his backpack.
You blinked. "Whaâharrassmen..?-No! I was just curious!" You defended yourself.
"She didn't consent to you touching her though," Han retorted.
"She's an inanimate object," you exclaimed. "Waitâ did you give your backpack a gender?"
"Kita is very alive," he replied, pretending to be offended.
You both stayed in silence for a few seconds, before he cracked up and started giggling.
Which was apparently very contaminating, since you found yourself chuckling aswell.
"And... you talked about Haikyuu, right? Did you watch it?" You asked.
He nodded. "Yeah. It was pretty cool! I've still gotta watch a movie, though, i think."
You acted as nonchalantly as you could, tilted your head. "Soooo... who d'you think would win between Nekoma and Seoba Johsai?" You asked, silently praying to whoever was Up There he'd actually been interested in it.
Otherwise, you'd just look like a nerdâwhich, yeah, you were, but you didn't need him to know that.
His eyes widened, sparkling, and he stated grinning, plopping down to sit in front of you on the ground, finally at level with you.
"Oh, come on! It's obviously Nekoma. I mean, with Kenma's genius, if we're talking before-they-lost-to-Katasuno-Aoba Johsai against during-the-nationals-Nekoma... Yeah, it'd maybe be tough, but they'd win."
Your brows jumped up. "Thank you! My friend told me he thinks Seijoh would winâ"
What started as an innocent question turned into a long, long conversation about sport animes, and eventually developped into Han telling you about the shit he and the Hot Guys Club did.
"Y'know, when we learned that this was our nickname, it became a running gag in our group. Like, everytime one of us would do something, the others would act like some of the weird chicks and go all high-pitched voice, real fangirl mode," he told you, laughing.
"Once, Chan loudly fangirled over Seungmin when he was playing base-ball for a matchâ next point he did was sent right to his face. Chan had a bruise on his cheek for three days," he told you. Your eyes widened.
"What? We thought it was some girl that shouted that!" You said, chuckling. "And rumors said that Chan had this bruise because he fought someone for his girlfriend," you said.
Which was seemingly the funniest thing in the universe from how hard Han laughed, throwing his head back and slapping his thigh so much you'd be surprised if he wasn't red later.
"Chan? Fight? For a girlfriend? First off, it'd be more likely to be Minho, me or Felix that'd fight. Second, he's single as shit."
Your brows jumped up. "Hold up, did you say Felix?"
Han blinked. Then, he chuckled, like he just now realized something. "Yeah, that guy fights. Once, he beat up a guy because he made fun of his gay friend."
Your eyes widened.
Felix? Fighting someone? Not even fightingâbeating him up?
"Wait, really? He looks like the sweetest guy!"
"Oh, don't get me wrong, he is! He's just... not afraid to use his skills if needed," he said, barely concealing his grin.
You glanced out the window, just now realizing how late it'd gotten. "Shit," you whispered.
"What?" Han asked, raising a brow.
You shook your head. "Nothing, it's just late."
His brows furrowed. "Oh, want me to walk you home or something? I mean, I don't know how far you live but I'm guessing it can't be that far if you stayed in the room until I came back, like, one hour later or something..." He said.
_________________
He talked your ear off so much when he walked you home that you almost forgot who this was.
You were talking to one of the Hot Guys Club members.
And he was... not a dick, somehow.
He was nice.
He was funny.
He was human.
Gosh, you'd have so much to tell your friends monday...
A/N: After litteraly months, i finally posted part 2 of this short story TT @rosinbutnotforaviola I'm so sorry it's not great, I pinky promise to work soon on pt 3 if you want it!
Tags: Slight angst, drunk!reader, no pronouns used but "missy" is said once, idol!chan, alcohol, ex!reader, ex!chan, one mention of hooking up
You didn't remember how you ended in Sean's--the blondie's--bed. You mind was a blur of alcohol, dancing, and seeing his face absolutely everywhere. The more drunk you got, the more you thought he was here.
First, you saw him in the guy with the same nose and face shape, then it was the guy with brown eyes, then the one with just a similar haircut.
You didn't know what it was that made you miss him this much tonight. Wether it was the long day you'd spent, the song that played on the speakers back in the club. Maybe a mix of everything.
Who knew.
Whatever it was, the guy in your bed, the guy you were kissing just ten seconds ago, pulled away slightly and held your arms.
"Hey, you okay? I mean, like, yeah, I'm drunk, but not drunk enough to miss the way you're..." he motioned to your face awkwardly.
You furrowed your brows. "What? I'm what?"
"You're kissing me like you wanna kiss someone else."
"What..?" you mumbled. "No, no, you're hot, and- and you're fun. I swear."
Your comment made him pause then huff out a laugh. Then snort. Then straight up laugh with his whole chest. "You- bhwahaha! Yeah, no, I know I am, missy. But I also know what it feels like to miss someone when you're drunk."
You blinked. Had you been this obvious all along?
"Let me guess. It's that Chris, or uh... Chad... Well, the name you called me earlier-"
"Chan," you corrected immediately, almost by reflex. Old habits die hard, it seems.
He smiled faintly. "Yeah. That guy."
The nod you gave was so small that Sean thought he imagined it for a second. "Wanna tell me about him? If it makes you feel any better, I'm probably too drunk to remember tomorrow, and you're too drunk to hide how much his name sounds like music to you anyway.
"Well... He was just- ugh. He was cute and nice and we dated for like, years, and he had this dream and i always told him to follow it, and when he finally did it, he had to move to korea and we promisde we'd always love eachother but he broke our promise and-"
"Did he?"
"Now we don't talk an- what?"
"Did he break his promise?" Sean asked, tilting his head, the blonde hair falling in his eyes like a movie star. "I mean, you certainly didn't."
You whined. "Speak normally, I'm too drunk to understand hidden messages."
He chuckled. "You promised to love eachother. And, from what I'm hearing, it's not like you ever stopped. What makes you so sure he did?"
"We... He didn't... He doesn't have the time for love. Or, if he does, it won't be with someone like me. I just know it. He's amazing and the best guy I ever met and... And I'm just me."
You spent the whole night and a part of the morning talking about him.
You cried and you were sad and you were mad... Both at him and at yourself.
"I know we were kids, it feels like I'm missing a stranger, but I just... Is it selfish that I'm so angry he finally lived his dream?"
"You're angry he's living his dream, and you're not a part of that. It's not selfish, sweets. I promise you."
!! ANY IDOL NAMES OTHER THAN SKZ ARE NOT REFFERING TO THEM. I JUST CHOOSE NAMES I LIKE, AND THAT'S THAT !!
A/N: This is pretty much a short prologue to the story. I might make more parts, might make y/n have love interests, etc... Who knows. You, probably. Enjoy!!
Tags: School AU, gn!reader, bandkid!han, nerd!chan, popularkids!skz, choirkid!seungmin, mentions of sex and fuckboy!skz, tell me if I missed anything ;)
You were with your two friends, Haneul and Luka, walking towards the Club Inscription Desks (A/N: English isn't my first language, so I have NO idea what those are called but... yeah...).
You were all planning on joining a club. Haneul, Luka and you had made a promise to actually do something this year, all on your ownâ and it the first step was that you'd all join different clubs.
"Ooh, HGC is here," Haneul told you, smirking and nudging you with her elbow.
The HGCâor Hot Guys Clubâwas a friendgroup of eight boys that went to your school.
They were the popular kids, the fuckboy-reputation kids, the ones everyone knew, the ones that could make some extremely weird girls whimper with just a glance.
The ones who, rumor has it, all fucked the same girl that one week. One each dayâand, since there were only seven days in a week, two of them at the same time once. Poor girl was gifted things for her "recovery" afterwards.
But what made them even more famous? They were all in different clubs. And, as stupid as that might sound, it was more than odd in your school.
To make it simple, there were seven official clubs at your school:
The Art Club: for the artsy, mostly gay and bullied kids. If you wanted to know tea, ask themâthey'd draw you a picture. Litteraly.
The Choir: The daddy and mommy's children that sang so loud they burst your eardrums during math tests every friday afternoon.
The Music Club: a bunch of hot, teenage-dirtbag kids who somehow had free and unsupervised instrument use. If Art Kids were bullied, Music Kids were more likely than not the bullies.
The History Club: or, as students called them, the teacher's pet zoo. Rule-following smartasses who thought their good grades meant unlimited asshole behavior authorization.
The Book Club: To explain it quickly; the nerds, who mostly read comics and scolded couples that came in the Library to hook up (which was about 80% of the reasons anyone entered that room).
The Kindness Club (yes, that was litteraly the club's official name): Some volunteers that, once a week, went to different actions and sometimes put together trips for the school.
and The Robotics Club: Hot. Geeks. Mostly muscular. Make, break or fix gadgets and cars when bored. Need I say more?
The students, though, created a brand new club: The Hot Guys Club. It was composed of eight friendsâno one knew how they'd became friends, or how they even talked to eachother in the first place.
Maybe pretty boys attracted pretty boys? Maybe they were from the same city? Maybe they were childhood friends? Maybe they were secretely hot robots brought in by some freak scientist as an experiment? Who knew.
The first guy was called Chan Bahngâleader of the Book Club, a pretty guy with dimples and a laugh that sounded more expensive than your entire family's networth.
Second, Minho Lee, or Lee Knowâbecause that guy knew everything about everyone, somehow. Quiet, but attentive. He wasn't in any clubâjust hung out with Han in the Music Room every so often, or talking to pretty girls from the Art Club. Other times, he just disappeared and came back from God knows where.
Changbin Seo was in the Robotics club: a buff guy that had lines of girls wishing to be crushed between his arms, legs, or pecs.
Then came The Prince, as everyone called him. Hyunjin Hwang, the tallest one, was in the Art Club. Pretty face with an even prettier bank account.
Jisung Han was in the Music Group, and rumor had it he played with a group in a bar every now and then. Whiny boy, that oneâhe knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it.
Felix Lee, the school sunshine. It was no wonder he was in the Kindness Club, between his soft freckles, his bleached-to-death hair and his deep voice, he was an angel. He helped a girl pick up her stuff and smiled at her, once, asking her if she was okay. She cried.
Seungmin Kim was the sarcastic guy with a voice sent straight from Heavenâhe could hit high notes that'd make a dog weep. No wonder he was in the choir.
And last but not least, Jeongin Yang, the youngest one. Sharp cheekbones, dimples, fox eyes. He skipped a grade, apparently, and teachers loved him. Seriously. Some to the point where it was weird. Maybe that's why he was in the History Club.
You groaned and pushed your friend back playfully.
"Oh, please. You don't get to whine... No matter which club you join, you're gonna be with a probably straight hot guy!" Luka said excitedly. "I hope at least one of them is gay," he whined.
"Hyunjin probably is. Most of the Artsies are, right? Or at least bi." Haneul's eyes sparkled like she'd found out a million dollars-worth information. "Ohh, yeah. I'm getting heavy bi-vibes from him. Didnt he screw that guy, Junghoon, from your class?" She asked you.
You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your small smile, and shook your had. "Neulie, no hate, but that's the kind of things Jennie would say," you joked.
Haneul gagged and looked at you like you just insulted her entire family.
Jennie was a popular girl, the kind you usually only seein trashy american moviesâher and her two stupid friends were the self-proclaimed queen od this school. Truth is, most people didnt even like them, but they pretended because... Well, she was close with Hyunjin Hwang, and she was filthy rich, too.
"Okay, back to the original topic... which club are you guys joining?" Luka asked, glancing around.
"I kinda wanna join the music club," you said. "And Han looks like one of the less-asshole-y ones. Along with Felix, butâand I say this as nicely as possibleâI don't really want to spend my free time looking over old people."
"Oh, I'll take Kindness then!" Luka said excitedly. "Oldies can't be that bad, right? Plus, he probably looks so hot helping others," he said with a dreamy sigh.
"Hm... I don't know which one I could join," Haneul said.
"Seriously? Why don't you join the Artsies?" You suggested. "You're amazing at everything handy."
"And you're bi," Luka added. "And you live for drama. Perfect fit!"
Haneul punched his arm, scolding him about making assumptions about her sexuality, which she claimed was straight. You all went to join your clubs, Luka happily skipping over to where Felix was standing behind the desk.
Haneul walked to the Art Club, awkwardly greeting the extravagantly-dressed woman behind the desk.
And you?
You went over to the Music Club's desk, waving slightly at the guy standing in front of you. Of course, it was the dude you spoke to for a few weeksâthe same one that swore you were meant to be, before having sex with his best friend. "Uh, hi... can I join?" You asked, glancing anywhere but him.
"Whaddya thinkâ" he started, before looking up at you.
The guy looked at you. The papers on the table. You. Raised a brow. "Well, well. You again," He said sarcastically.
"All roads lead to Rome," you mumbled.
You were about to take the form when you heard an excited voice chirp up from behind you. "Not if you walk backwards!"
You turned around at the familiar sound, and you saw him. Han Jisung.
He grinned at you. "Hey, you're in Jeongin's class, right? You're joining the Music Club?" He asked, filling a paper like it was second nature.
He handed the form to the other guy, and shot you a wink. "See you this friday then?" He said, before going back to his friends.
Your eyes stayed stuck to him as he walked awayânot for interest. Just because they were like glued to him, somehow.
You shook yourself out of it, signed the form and quickly pushed it to the boy in front of you, before going outside to wait for your friends.
Well.
Fuck.
Requests are open!!
Remember to eat, drink, and smile, people ! Don't forget to ask if you'd like to be tagged in works I might post in the future.
Also, I'll do polls for which member could be a love interest - so stay tuned ;)
There is something wrong with Seungmin these days, or so that's what the members thought. Some of them, like I.N and Changbin, barely noticed or simply didn't care. Bang Chan and Felix smiled like they knew something the others didn't. Lee Know, Hyunjin and Han, however, were almost giving up their idol careers to become detectives.
They truly didn't know what was going on in the mind of the younger boy, but they for sure were scared. It's not common for Seungmin to smile all of the sudden and for his eyes to soften randomly. And for sure it isn't common for him to giggle.
The first time it happened was when Seungmin was looking at something on his phone. It was a jumpscare - they had never heard him laugh so softly and with no intention to annoy the other boys - but there certainly was a reason. He was talking to someone on the phone. It was weird, but it wasn't unreasonable.
The second time was completely weird, though. That's when the theories started. After seeing Seungmin look at the mirror a bit too long after washing his hands, and then proceed to giggle and lightly shake his hand, Lee Know was the first to make the theory of Seungmin going insane. It was the most logical thing he could've thought, and everyone seemed to agree. But still, they wanted to know the reason as to why he was losing his mind.
In the recording session of their latest comeback, they thought they had found the answer. Seungmin was playing the guitar for a song Han planned out when suddenly he laughed again, lightly and terrifying. Jisung felt like solving the enigma then: he was obviously feeling the impacts of the nearing comeback. The amount of work was making him act insane. Totally reasonable, of course.
The fourth time was just a confirmation, or so that's what Hyunjin thinks. After all, it happened again when he was practicing the choreography of the new song with his friend. They were trying to solve the hand movements of the dance when Seungmin suddenly froze and smiled. They were in the rehearsal room, in the comeback eve and talking about work. Of course that was what made him act like that!
Chan listened to the detective trio - or maybe simply the paboracha - discuss this matter in the living room once, and he couldn't help but smile to himself at their obliviousness. They couldn't be farther from the truth.
It really wasn't that hard to put all the pieces together. Typing on the phone, washing his hands, playing the guitar and practicing a hand-focused part on a choreography... All of that required for Seungmin to look at his hand. The very hand that was now adorned by a ring.
A ring that you also had.
A ring that told everyone that he was now a married man.
What reaction could he have other than giggling every time he got reminded of that? But sure, let paboracha play detective for a little longer.
Masterlist | you'll probably like: Shut me up
Daily click
Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!
A fic about OT8 being the unofficial "Hot Guys Club" of your school, and all of them actually being part of different clubsâhistory, music, robotics, the choir... which would be fine, except the clubs of your school were like teams, never mixing. Never seen together.
Except them.
And, when you found yourself talking to one of them after joining his Club... you realized they might be more than just random fuckboys.
A/N: Just a VERY short draft of what I imagine a trip with Stray Kids would be like! Enjoy ;)
Tags: Fluff, gn!reader, 9th member!reader, SKZ being chaotic
A trip.
That's the genius idea your friendgroup got for the first days off in a while. So now, you were all in a van, Minho driving while Han and Hyunjin sang their hearts out like this was a who can sing the loudest karaoke bet.
Chan was in the backseat, laughing so hard that the video he was taking would too shaky to be understood later at how ridiculous they sounded, Seungmin was muttering how stupid his hyungs were while trying (and failing) to hide a smile.
Felix soon joined the self-titled Karaoke Masters, making wide arm movements and unintentionally forcing a giggling Jeongin and a somehow sleeping Changbin to shift and squeeze awkwardly against the car doors.
And where were you?
Well, you were squeezed between Hyunjin and Chan, laughing so much your abs were working overtime, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes while Hyunjin wrapped an arm around you and swung you side to side, his voice so loud in your ear you'd probably have a headache once arrived at your destination.
Minho's shout at a random driver was followed by Han leaning over from the passenger seat, yelling at him to relax and sing with them, his gummy smile making the cat-dad crack a smirk.
You were a rough bunch. A found family of weird cool kids in adult bodies. But you all loved eachother so much that it was worth every muscle ache from dancing, every surprise-hug attack from Felix, every single minute you spent scribbling with a black sharpie over calories everytime you bought snacks.
It was worth everything you had, and everything you didn't.
Even after all this time, you still wish for him everytime 11:11 comes around. Deep down knowing it won't come true. But what if?
A/N: This is almost the same as the other one !! Except it has a different ending and might get a part 2.
Tags: slight angst/comfort, ex!hyunjin, mentions of being drunk
Song: Eleven Eleven â Conan Gray
Itâs 11:11 again.
The glowing numbers blink on your phone screen, mocking you with their perfect symmetryâwhich was now disturbed by the way the alcohol was toying with your head. You tell yourself not to look. Not to wish. Not this time. But your thumb hesitates over the lock screen anyway, like muscle memoryâlike your body still remembers what your heart is trying so hard to forget.
But it's really just a habit now. Every time you see double digits, you close your eyes to make your wish, and before you can stop yourself, his name comes to mind.
It always does.
You hadnât spoken in monthsânot since that night. The one with the rain, and the words that fell harder than the storm outside. The one that made you realize loving doesnât always mean staying.
The one where Hyunjinâs promise of forever ended much sooner than expected.
And yet, despite swearing to yourself time and time again that you moved on, every night since, youâve found yourself glancing at the clock and waiting for those four numbers to line up like the universe was giving you one last chance to ask for him back.
Tonight, though, something feels different. Maybe itâs the ache thatâs quieter than usual. Maybe itâs the way the city lights blur through your window like theyâre trying to erase his face. Maybe it's the way the alcohol is dancing around your mind and singing his name like an anthem.
But you close your eyes, clasp your hands together, and whisper his name under your breath, with a silent plea of,
âI wish I could love you one more time.â
And then, like a cruel trick of your mind, you see itâ
that memory that refuses to fade.
---
You remember the first time he made you do it.
Youâd laughed at him for it, sitting cross-legged on the floor of his messy room, the smell of paint still clinging to his hoodie.
âYou actually do that? Make a wish at angel numbers on clocks?â
Heâd looked up from his sketchbook, lips curling into that boyish grin that made your chest feel too small for your heart.
âOf course,â he said, pretending to be offended. âYouâre supposed to! Itâs likeâuniversal law.â
Youâd rolled your eyes, and thatâs when he grabbed your hands suddenly, his fingers warm and slightly stained with blue paint.
"Do it with me,â heâd said, grinning so wide it was almost stupid.
Youâd tried to pull away, giggling, but he only held tighter.
âNo, seriously, you have to! C'mon, Jagi. Close your eyes. Thatâs how it works.â
His voice had softened then, a little lower, a little steadier.
âOkay... Just trust me.â
So you did.
His thumbs brushed against your knuckles, slow and gentle. You could feel him smiling even before he spoke.
"Alright,â heâd whispered. âI wish for us to be together, grow old, and love each other. Forever.â
Youâd laughed at how serious he sounded, eyes still closed.
âIsnât the whole thing to not say it aloud, or it wonât come true?â youâd teased, opening one eye.
Heâd chuckled, brushing your hair from your face.
âMaybe it wonât work now,â he said, half joking, half something else. âBut if it doesnât, it just means Iâll have to wish harder next time.â
He grinned dumbly, looking at you. "You know... it's gonna work even better if we both do it. Right?" He said, wiggling his brows.
You chuckled. "Seriously, honey?"
He nodded quickly and extended his pinky finger. "Yeah! Come on. Promise me you'll always wish for me at least at 11:11, and I promise I'll always wish for you. Forever and every," he whispered the last words like a secret.
You smiled fondly, interlocking your pinky finger with his, whispering right back: "Promise. Forever and ever."
"You bet. You promised, and now, I'll make sure you keep it." He smiled like the happiest man on earth while you giggled at how cheesy he sounded.
And he did.
Every night at 11:11, heâd make you do it again.
And again.
And again.
He'd call you, send you text-reminders, pout playfully everytime you didn't say it with him and blamed it on ot not being 11:11 but 12:12, 05:05 and such.
Until one day, he stopped.
---
You open your eyes. The numbers on the screen flicker and fadeâ11:12.
Too late. Wish over.
You take a deep breath, setting your phone aside. The silence of your apartment hums in your ears, louder than it should be. The air feels heavier when you realize how empty the space around you isâhow quiet the walls have been since his voice stopped echoing off them.
Thereâs a photo still on your shelf. One you keep meaning to hide but never do. The one he took of youâlaughing, eyes half closed, hand reaching toward the camera. He said it was his favorite. You almost smile, and it hurts that you still can.
Your chest tightens as you reach for your phone again. As if on instinct. As if youâre still tethered to him somehow.
You open your messages. His name sits near the top, untouched, unread since that last blue bubble:
Hyunjin:
Donât wait for me anymore.
You never replied. You didnât have the words then. Youâre not sure you do now.
Still, your fingers move on their own, slowly, like even they're hesitating.
You:
> I still wish for you.
You stare at the text, the little gray words on the white screen, and your throat burns. The cursor blinks. Your heart does too.
You don't hit send. Not that you really meant to.
You just put your phone face-down on the table, thinking you simply exited the app and kept the message as a draft.
You lean your head against your hands, sighing deeply, hand reaching for your glass of whisky yet again. The world outside keeps moving, unaware that yours stopped months ago.
You close your eyes, just once more, letting the memory of his laughter echo through the silence.
And somewhere deep down, where logic canât reach and pride canât silence, you think maybeâjust maybeâheâs wishing too.
Then, you hear it.
A ding. From your phone.
"Who's texting me right now?" You whine to yourself, reaching for your phone.
You never sobered up faster than when you saw the notification.
You:
I stjll wish for ypu.
Hyunjin:
I do, too.
You think you're imagining it. There's no way. How could he know? You didn't send that text.
Wait.
You didn't... Did you?
It's deleted as soon as you open the message app, leaving you wondering if you read that right or if your drunk mind was playing you. Right as you're about to turn it off with a huff, finger hovering over the button, you see the telltale typing bubble appear. Then disappear. Appear again.
It goes on for a few seconds, like a back-and-forth between Hyunjin's fingers and his thoughts.
Then, the typing stops. As if he's hesitating.
Ding.
Hyunjin:
Where are you?
You bite your tongue, not sure if you should really answer him.
Your mind is at war with your heart, but the hard, quick pounding of the latter is drowning out any hint of rational thinking you'd have left.
You:
Home. Still didnr mive.
His answer comes quick.
Hyunjin:
I'm coming over. Don't do anything stupid. And this is only because You're probably drunk.
You:
Okzy
You stare at the screen after you hit send, still trying to process everything.
You slowly turned of your phone, put it face-down on your table, and take a deep breath.
After so many months, you were gonna see him again.
And you didn't know if the pounding of your heart against your ribcage was happiness, fear, anticipation, or all of the above and more.
(Spoiler alert: probably the last option.)
There you go @dove111111-blog ! :)
Requests are open!
As always, a day without laughing is lost so SMILE !
Even after all this time, you still wish for him every time 11:11 comes around
A/N: Tried to make it make sense, so please tell me if it doesn't and i'll try to rewrite it đđ»
Tags: Slight angst/no comfort, ex!Hyunjin, gn!reader, let me know if I missed anything
Song: Eleven Eleven - Conan Gray
Itâs 11:11 again.
The glowing numbers blink on your phone screen, mocking you with their perfect symmetry. You tell yourself not to look. Not to wish. Not this time. But your thumb hesitates over the lock screen anyway, like muscle memoryâlike your body still remembers what your heart is trying so hard to forget.
But it's almost a habit now. Every time you see double digits, you close your eyes to make your wish, and before you can stop yourself, his name comes to mind.
It always does.
You hadnât spoken in monthsânot since that night. The one with the rain, and the words that fell harder than the storm outside. The one that made you realize loving doesnât always mean staying.
The one where Hyunjinâs promise of forever ended much sooner than expected.
And yet, every night since, youâve found yourself glancing at the clock, waiting for those four numbers to line up like the universe was giving you one last chance to ask for him back.
Tonight, though, something feels different. Maybe itâs the ache thatâs quieter than usual. Maybe itâs the way the city lights blur through your window like theyâre trying to erase his face.
But you close your eyes, clasp your hands together, and whisper his name under your breath, with a quiet plea of,
âI wish I could love you one more time.â
And then, like a cruel trick of your mind, you see itâ
that memory that refuses to fade.
---
You remember the first time he made you do it, and how ridiculous it seemed to you.
Youâd laughed at him for it, sitting cross-legged on the floor of his messy room, the smell of paint still clinging to his hoodie.
âYou actually do that? Make a wish at 11:11?â
Heâd looked up from his sketchbook, lips curling into that boyish grin that made your chest feel too small for your heart.
âOf course,â he said, pretending to be offended. âYouâre supposed to! Itâs likeâuniversal law.â
Youâd rolled your eyes, and thatâs when he grabbed your hands suddenly, his fingers warm and slightly stained with blue paint.
"C'mon, do it with me,â heâd said, grinning so wide it was almost stupid.
Youâd tried to pull away, giggling, but he only held tighter.
âNo, seriously. Close your eyes. Thatâs how it works.â
His voice had softened then, a little lower, a little steadier.
âCome on. Just trust me.â
So you did.
His thumbs brushed against your knuckles, slow and gentle. You could feel him smiling even before he spoke.
"Okay,â heâd whispered. âI wish for us to be together, grow old, and love each other. Forever.â
Youâd laughed at how serious he sounded, eyes still closed.
"Isnât the whole thing to not say it aloud, or it wonât come true?â youâd teased, opening one eye.
Heâd chuckled, brushing your hair from your face.
âMaybe it wonât work now,â he said, half joking, half something else. âBut if it doesnât, it just means Iâll have to wish harder next time.â
And he did.
Every night at 11:11, heâd make you do it again.
And again.
And again.
Until one day, he stopped.
---
You open your eyes. The numbers on the screen flicker and fadeâ11:12.
Too late. Wish over.
You take a deep breath, setting your phone aside. The silence of your apartment hums in your ears, louder than it should be. The air feels heavier when you realize how empty the space around you isâhow quiet the walls have been since his voice stopped echoing off them.
Thereâs a photo still on your shelf. One you keep meaning to hide but never do. The one he took of youâlaughing, eyes half closed, hand reaching toward the camera. He said it was his favorite. You almost smile, and it hurts that you still can.
Your chest tightens as you reach for your phone again. As if on instinct. As if youâre still tethered to him somehow.
You open your messages. His name sits near the top, untouched, unread since that last blue bubble:
Hyunjin:
Donât wait for me anymore.
You never replied. You didnât have the words then. Youâre not sure you do now.
Still, your fingers move on their own.
You:
I still wish for you.|
You stare at the text, the little gray words on the white screen, and your throat burns. The cursor blinks. Your heart does too.
You donât hit send. Not yet. Maybe you never will.
Instead, you turn off your phone and lean back against the window, watching the city lights smear across the glass like constellations out of focus. The world outside keeps moving, unaware that yours stopped months ago.
You close your eyes, just once more, letting the memory of his laughter echo through the silence.
And somewhere deep down, where logic canât reach and pride canât silence, you think maybeâjust maybeâheâs wishing too.
Because even if he stopped saying it, even if he stopped believing in itâeven if he never did, some promises never really leave you.
They just turn into ghosts that visit every night at 11:11.
-------
Requests are open :)
As always, hope you enjoyed, and a day without laughing is lost, so SMILE!
a series of phone calls with increasing time zones, proving that not even distance can break true love
idol!seungmin x reader, 5k words, fluff, long-distance au (seungmin on tour), angst, one argument, explicit themes but not graphic!! (implied masturbation, sexual intercourse) so mdni!
you both knew tour was going to be a challenge. the time zones, the silence between texts, being apart for too long.
but real love sticks. real love dials in the middle of the night with a sleepy voice and a hotel duvet pulled up to his chin. seungmin is in australia. one hour ahead of you.
âhey, babyâ seungmin whispers, the sound barely above the static. âyou still awake?â
you roll onto your back, staring at your ceiling like it might answer for you. âyeah.â
âdid you cry?â he asks gently. not mocking but curious, like heâs asking about the weather.
âa little,â you admit, voice barely holding. âwhy are you so hard to sleep without?â
he exhale. âi donât know,â he says, âmaybe i cursed you.â
âmaybe,â you whisper back.
thereâs silence for a while. not awkward. just full.
then, âhan jisung is asleep like two feet away, and if he hears me say sappy shit heâs gonna roast me into another dimension.â
you smile a little.
âbut,â seungmin adds, quieter now, âi miss you too. like. a lot.â
you close your eyes. âdonât whisper like that. it makes it worse.â
âoh? does it?â he says as his voice dips lower. âwhat, like this?â
âseungmin.â
âi can picture your face right nowâ he says with a light chuckle.
you groan into your pillow. âi hate you.â
âno you donât.â
âno,â you sigh. âi donât.â
âiâll call you again tomorrow night,â he murmurs, yawn crawling into his voice. âmaybe iâll read you the hotel shampoo ingredients like poetry.â
âthatâs so romantic.â
"i know. iâm basically shakespeare,â he whispers, smug and sleepy.
you let out a soft laugh. âthen whatâs your sonnet about tonight, romeo?â
âhm.â there's a pause. you hear the rustle of sheets as he shifts, the soft creak of the bed frame. âode to the cotton bed sheets that smell like lavender.â
you snort. âbeautiful.â
âi try,â he says. âfor you.â
your throat tightens at that. itâs so quiet on the other end, and you can almost picture himâeyes half-lidded, phone pressed to his cheek, hair messy from the long day, the glow of the hallway light slipping through the crack under the hotel door.
âyou should sleep,â you say.
âyou should stop sounding like youâre about to cry again,â he says.
you blink fast. âsorry.â
âdonât be,â he says. âi miss you too. more than i wanna say out loud because jisung has ears like a bat.â
âtell him i said hi.â
âi will. in the morning. right now, iâm all yours.â
you smile into your pillow. âeven if youâre like... thousands of miles away?â
âdistance isnât real,â he says, like itâs obvious. âyouâre in my phone, in my head, and in my heart.â
you murmur, fingers curling in the sheets. "i love you."
you can hear him smile. not the smug kind. the quiet one, the one he saves for you.
"i know," he whispers. "i know, baby. i love you too."
your eyes sting again.
âi wanna hear you say goodnight, before i go,â he says softly. âlike iâm still right there.â
you tuck your face into your pillow, pretending he is.
you whisper, âgoodnight, seungmin.â
he lets out a long exhale. âagain.â
âgoodnight, minnie.â
âone more time,â he murmurs, voice already halfway to sleep.
you smile, heart squeezing. âgoodnight, love.â
âmmm,â he hums, already slipping under. âthat oneâs my favorite.â
the call doesnât end. he never hangs up first. not when heâs on tour. not when youâre the only quiet thing that feels like home.
seungmin was always your plumber. doing it alone felt harder than it shouldâve.
"okay, okayâstop. stop touching it. you're gonna break it."
"i have to touch it, kim seungmin.â you huff in frustration adding a mocking tone to his name.
ânot when youâre doing it like that.â
âhow would you know? youâre in a limousine.â
on the other end of the call, thereâs a soft rustling of leather seats, then a distant snort of laughterâprobably changbin. then hyunjinâs unmistakable voice in the background.
you roll your eyes and crouch down by the sink again. âjust walk me through it.â
you hear him sigh dramatically. âyou're gonna need both of your hands. youâre holding the flashlight with your mouth, right?â
âyeah.â you say, slightly muffled
âcute,â he says.
you smile.
âokay, now reach in with your left hand, gently, and find the little hex socket.â
âthe what?â
âthe six-sided bolt, babe.â
you find it. âgot it.â
âgood. now take the wrench, the L-shaped one. the baby wrench.â
you laugh around the flashlight. âyou mean the allen key?â
âi said what i said.â
you fit it into place, and it clicks. "what now?"
âturn it slowly. coax it back to life.â
âyouâre stupid.â
âyouâre smiling.â
heâs right. you are.
the background laughter comes again, through your phone. you take the flashlight out of your mouth and furrow your eyebrows, now glaring at the phone.
seungmin huffs. âignore them. theyâre just mad no one calls them to fix things with love and precision.â
âwhy love?â
âyou think iâd be guiding you through garbage disposal in a limousine if i wasnât in love with you?â
you pause. heart full. âi love you too, minnie.â
âi know,â he says. ânow finish the job, so you can text me a picture when it works and i can brag to those idiots about how youâre the best mechanic alive.â
âdeal,â you grin.
"and hey?"
"yeah?"
âdonât go getting too good at this independent thing without me, alright? youâll end up not needing me anymore.â
you roll your eyes fondly. âbye, seungmin.â
âbye, love.â
your phone buzzes unexpectedlyâno text, no facetime request, just a straight-up call. that never happens unless somethingâs wrong.
âhello?â
you hear a shaky inhale on the other end of the line. not completely panicked, but definitely not seungminâs usual hello either.
âminnie?â you say, sitting up straighter. âeverything okay?â
he exhales again, this time more controlled, like heâs trying to reset himself mid-breath. âyeah, sorry, i justâsorry, this is gonna sound really dumb.â
âare you okay?â you ask again, softer this time.
âyeah. yeah, i justââ he pauses, like heâs choosing his words carefully. âwe were walking into this venue, right? and i wasnât thinking, just messing around with jeongin, and suddenlyâŠâ
he trails off.
âsuddenly?â you prompt.
âi caught this scent. like perfume. i donât know who it was, just someone walking by, but it,â he lets out a shaky breath. âit smelled so much like you.â
your heart clenches. âme?â
âyeah,â he says, voice low, almost like heâs embarrassed. âand i just, i didn't know i could recognize it so easily, yâknow? i never paid attention to that stuff before. but it hit me so fast. like my brain was like, oh, sheâs here, and i looked around like an idiot.â
youâre quiet, lips curling into something helpless and warm. âyouâre so cute.â
âshut up,â he mutters, and it sounds half-defensive, half-melting. âi was justâi donât know, kind of spiraling.â
âi shouldâve given you the bottle before you left,â you murmur. âyou couldâve sprayed it on your pillow or something. maybe your hoodie. made it easier.â
âokay well, actually,â he says, suddenly brisk. âiâm in a fragrance store right now.â
your eyebrows shoot up. âwhat?â
âi literally walked away from the guys and came in here. i donât even know what iâm doing.â
youâre smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. âso you called me to ask what perfume i use?â
âmaybe,â he says quietly. âmaybe i just wanted to hear your voice while i looked for you in a bottle.â
you bury your face in your hand. âseungmin.â
âdonât make it a thing,â he grumbles, but his voice is soft again. âjust tell me what it is. i wanna spray it on my wrist or my hoodie or something, and maybe then i wonât look around every time i smell it.â
you tell him, and he repeats it back softly, twiceâlike heâs memorizing it.
âokay,â he says, âi found it.â
you smile into the phone. âgo on then, give it a try. you gotta confirm itâs really me.â
thereâs a little silence. the soft pop of the sample nozzle. thenâ
he gets quiet.
too quiet.
you wait, lips parted, holding your breath like the silence might break if you exhale too hard.
âminnie?â you say gently.
on the other end of the line, thereâs a small rustleâlike heâs pulling the test strip closerâand then a faint breath, nearly soundless.
â...yeah,â he says, but itâs barely there. hushed. careful.
âis it the right one?â you ask, smiling even though you canât see him.
another pause.
âit feels like youâre right here.â
you chest tightens.
another rustleâprobably him turning away from the counter, footsteps echoing as he walks deeper into the store.
âi need to hang up.â
you blink. âwait, what? whyââ
âjustâthank you,â he says, quickly, like it hurts. âseriously. thank you.â
âminââ
but the line clicks before you can finish.
your phone rings just as you're brushing your teeth, screen lighting up with minnie calling. itâs earlyâtoo early for your brain to do much thinkingâbut your heart wakes up faster than the rest of you.
you swipe the call and press it to your ear, foam still in your mouth.
âhi, seungmin,â you mumble around your toothbrush, voice muffled and lazy.
he doesn't answer right away. just⊠breathes.
low. slow. deliberate.
you pause mid-brush. â...minnie?â
âbaby,â he says, and something about his voice makes your hand freeze midair. deeper than usual. lower. like heâs under the covers, talking into the pillow.
âwhat time is it over there?â
âpast midnight.â
âshouldnât you be sleeping?â
a quiet chuckle. âcouldnât. been thinking about you.â
your cheeks warm instantly as you flicked the light switch and made your way to your bedroom.
âearlier today, your scent,â he adds, voice dragging a little now, like heâs letting each word settle before moving on. âyou really messed me up with that.â
you sit down on the edge of your bed, heart pounding. âwhat are you doing?â
he inhales, slowâlike heâs giving you a hint without actually saying anything.
âmm⊠i'm in bed,â he says, voice velvety. âlights are off. windowâs open a little.â
you smile, because heâs playing. âand?â
heâs silent for a beat. thenâsoftly, âjisungâs not here.â his designated hotel roommate.
you lean back into your pillow, a little breath catching in your throat. âwhere is he?â
âwent to see chan. theyâre doing a livestream in his room.â a pause. âwonât be back for a while.â
you donât say anythingâcanât, reallyâbut the lineâs quiet in that loaded kind of way. your breath hitches just enough.
he hears it.
âyou gonna keep pretending you donât know what iâm doing?â he says, voice dipping into something firmer, smoother. âor are you gonna be good and ask me what i want you to do?â
your legs press together on instinct, pulse suddenly very loud in your ears.
âwe havenât had a call like this yet,â you whisper, your voice barely holding steady.
âi know, baby. for now just stay with me.â
distance could do terrible things to people who loved each other. it stretched silence into assumptions, turned waiting into resentment, made every little misstep feel like betrayal.
and tonight, it was doing its worst.
âi just donât get why you didnât say anything,â you snap, hands gripping the steering wheel. âyou waited until now to bring this up?â
âbecause i knew youâd react like this,â seungmin fires back, voice tight, like heâs trying not to be overheard.
âlike what? like i have a problem with you being honest?â
âno,â he says, âlike you twist it into something about you. like you always do.â
âwow.â you pause. blink. âdon't have soundcheck right now?â
âyes.â
âthen why the hell did you call me now if you donât even have time to talk about this properly?â
âbecause itâs been eating me alive and i didnât want to go on stage feeling like this, okay?â his voice wavers. not loud. just frayed.
you exhale, eyes stinging. âiâm not your emotional dumping ground.â
you suck in a shaky breath, throat tight.
âand you couldâve talked about this without raising your voice at me,â you say, quieter now.
thereâs silence on the line.
you hear him shift, maybe press his palm over the phone. muffled voices in the backgroundâstaff calling him.
âanyway,â you continue, forcing the tremble out of your voice. âi donât want to bring you down before your show.â
heâs still silent.
âiâm sorry, seungmin. i really am.â your voice softens further. âi love you. are we good?â
a beat. thenâ
âyeah, i'm sorry too. weâre good.â
your heart clenches.
you wait.
just for a second.
just long enough to hope he says it back.
but he doesnât.
the line goes dead.
you sit there, phone still pressed to your ear, staring at nothing.
itâs been hours. half a day, maybe more.
you havenât heard from him since.
youâre at your desk, legs curled under your chair, coffee cold, unread emails glowing in tabs you havenât touched.
your phone buzzes.
seungmin: just got back. wanna call?
you stare at the message, thumb hovering.
you: itâs late over there
a few seconds later:
seungmin: itâs alright. are you busy?
you glance around your officeâempty, quiet, dim with the afternoon light pooling through the blinds. the answerâs obvious.
you: no.
the typing bubble appears. disappears. then your screen lights up.
incoming call. your heart skips.
you hesitate just a moment but you answer anyway.
âhey,â he says softly, voice scratchy, tired.
you donât say anything right away.
he waits.
âyou should be asleep,â you murmur.
he chuckles faintly. âcouldnât. been thinking about you.â
you exhale, shoulders dropping just a little. âme too.â
âyeah?â
âyeah.â
you rest your chin on your hand, eyes tracing the little scratches on your desk, voice still quiet. âhow was the concert?â
he breathes out a small laugh. âwe did well. it was great.â
âwere you tired during the dance sets?â you ask gently, genuinely. âyou didnât sound winded, but i know youâve been pushing your knee too hard.â
thereâs a pause.
he says, voice low with something like awe. âyeah, it was sore. but i iced it after. chan made meâ
you laugh.
then, soft again, he says, âiâm sorry.â
you close your eyes. âme too.â
and itâs not everything, not the whole conversation. but itâs enough for now.
âi love you,â you whisper, trying again.
you can hear him smiling, even through the static.
âi love you too,â he says. âso much.â
you smile back, cheeks warm and aching in the best way.
but thenâsoftly, almost before you mean to say it.
âi donât wanna get used to this.â
thereâs a pause. the kind that makes your throat tighten.
âused to what?â he asks gently.
you swallow. âbeing apart from you.â
he breathes in through his nose. slowly. âyou think thatâs happening?â
you shrug, even though he canât see you. âsome days itâs easier. and i hate that. like⊠am i supposed to be okay with not hearing your voice until midnight? with seeing you through screens more than in person?â
he doesnât answer right away. just listens.
so you go on, voice smaller now. âare we starting to miss each other less?â
and then he says it, soft but sure.
âno.â
âiâm scared iâm gonna,â you admit, a little too quietly.
he exhales. âyou wonât.â
âhow do you know?â
âbecause iâm still here,â he says. âand every time you call, every time you say my name, it still feels like the first time. iâm never gonna be something you forget how to want.â
you blink fast, throat thick.
âeven if it gets easier,â he adds, âit doesnât mean it means less. it just means weâre learning how to carry it better.â
you nod, tears pricklingâbut this time, they feel okay.
safe.
like love you can live inside of.
âyouâre still the first thing i think about,â you whisper.
âgood,â he murmurs. âsame.â
you pick up and immediately the screen is sideways, showing a very blurry jisung laughing so hard heâs bent over the hotel bed.
"hellooooo," jisung yells directly into the phone.
you blink. "uh⊠hi?"
the screen rights itself. seungmin appearsâbarefaced, hair messy, eyes way too shiny to be sober. heâs lying on his stomach, chin squished into a pillow, voice soft and dangerously sweet.
âhi, baby,â he says, all low and slurred and dangerous.
âoh no,â you whisper. âhow drunk are you two?â
ânot drunk,â he insists.
âheâs drunk,â jisung confirms helpfully, popping into frame again and waving.
âshut up,â seungmin mumbles, blindly swatting at him.
you snort. âwhatâs happening over there?â
âhe has something to tell you,â jisung says smugly.
seungmin groans, burying half his face in the blanket. âjisungâŠâ
âtell her what you told me,â jisung insists.
âhan jisung, shut your entire mouth.â
âtoo late. he saidââ jisung gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. ââif she were here right now Iâd let her ruin my life.ââ
a beat of silence.
then seungmin smacks him off camera with a pillow.
seungmin flips back into frame, completely disheveled and pouty. âseriously, come over sweetpea.â
âiâm in a different country.â
âweak excuse,â he grumbles, already rolling over onto his side like the callâs exhausting him.
jisung peeks in again, holding up a half-eaten macaron. âif you were here, weâd give you one of these.â
you laugh, cheeks sore from smiling.
âsave some for me then,â you say, voice soft but playful.
seungmin doesnât hear itâheâs already buried back into the pillow, mumbling something incoherent about what the bed smells like.
but jisung hears it.
he freezes, mid-bite, eyes snapping to the screen.
you meet his gaze.
he widens his eyes, mouthing: really?
you bite back a smile and give the tiniest, most deliberate nod.
his entire face lights up, but then he clamps his mouth shut, physically slaps a hand over it, and glances at Seungmin, whoâs currently face down and humming the mario kart theme into the blanket.
âoh my god,â Jisung mouths again, silently losing it.
you put a finger to your lips, shhh.
he nods rapidly, then mimes zipping his lips and throwing the key.
seungmin groans. âwhy is it so quiet now? whatâare you guys passing notes like itâs high school?â
âno,â jisung says, biting into his macaron and struggling not to beam.
seungmin rolls over again, squinting. âweirdos.â
you just smile.
âsee you soon,â you whisper, quiet enough that only jisung catches it.
and he grins like heâs holding the worldâs best secret. because he is.
the screen lights up with a familiar facetime ring.
you answer, already smiling. âhi.â
seungmin's face appearsâdim lighting, hoodie up, hair messy like heâs been running his hands through it all night. heâs lying on his side in bed, camera slightly tilted. thereâs a stillness to him tonight. the kind that feels heavier than silence.
âhey,â he says, voice low. a little tired. a little distant.
you tuck your legs underneath you on the couch. âhow longâs it been now?â
he doesnât even pause to think. âfive months.â
you nod. âweâre halfway.â
âonly halfway.â
your breath catches at that. you werenât expecting him to say it like thatâlike itâs a sentence.
you sigh, fingers tightening around your phone. âyeah.â
for a moment, neither of you say anything.
âi know youâre tired,â you say gently.
âiâm fine,â he replies, but thereâs no weight behind it. like heâs used to pretending. âit just⊠feels really far tonight.â
you nod slowly, throat tight. âi know. it feels far for me too.â
he looks at you for a second longerâeyes a little glassy, lips parted like heâs about to say something, then thinks better of it.
but he does.
âi miss you, sweetheart.â
your breath catches in your chest.
he rarely calls you that. only when he means it. when heâs feeling something he doesnât know how to explain in full sentences.
you swallow hard. âsoon.â
he nods, slow. âyeah. soon.â
he has no idea just how soon.
no idea that your suitcase is already packed. that your flight lands tomorrow morning. that the hotel front desk already has your name and a keycard.
and as he murmurs, âi wish i could hold your hand right now,â
you smile.
âyou will,â you say softly.
you keep replaying it in your headâseungminâs face when he saw you in the crowd. that second of shock, then the dumbest grin as he stumbled over a lyric and tried to play it off like he meant to do that. youâd almost cried. almost.
and now itâs past midnight, the concert hours behind you, and you know heâs taken his time wiping off the sweat and glitter of it all, probably still tangled in post-show chaos and crew goodbyes.
which is why, when you hear the knock at your hotel room door, your heart does that fluttery thing. you donât even hesitateâyouâre off the bed in seconds, bare feet padding across the floor, and you already know who it is before you check the peephole.
you open the door.
and there he is.
hair slightly damp, hoodie pulled low over his forehead, backpack slung over one shoulder. tired eyesâbut shining. always shining when theyâre on you.
most of his face is hidden in the shadows of the hood, just the curve of his cheekbone catching the hallway light. you canât really see him, not fully. but youâd know that silhouette anywhere.
you donât even get a word out. he drops his bag, wraps his arms around you, and pulls you into him like youâre the only thing holding him up. you let out a small squeal, laughing, your arms looping around his neck just as he lifts you straight off the ground.
âseungmin!â you giggle as he spins you in a circle, your feet kicking in the air.
âi missed you,â he breathes into your shoulder before setting you down slowly. âoh, i missed you so bad.â
once your feet touch the carpet, you're grabbing the front of his hoodie and tugging him inside. the door swings shut behind him with a soft click, and before he can blink, youâre kissing him.
he melts immediately, like heâs been waiting all night for this because he has. his hands slide back around your waist, pulling you in tighter and you giggle into itâcompletely overwhelmed and completely in love.
he stumbles forward a little, still kissing you, until your back hits the wall with a muted thud. you gasp softly into his mouth, grinning now as he presses into you, and he pulls back just enough to look at you, dazed.
âwhatâŠâ he breathes, his lips brushing yours, ââŠwhat are you doing here?â
you blink at him, still catching your breath, still grinning. âi wanted to come surprise you.â
he just stares at you for a beat, like heâs trying to figure out if youâre real. then he exhales sharply, shaking his head. âyouâre a crazy, crazy girl, you know right?â
âyou think iâd let you go out of the country for ten months and not visit you?â you say, voice light. âyou really thought i could go that long without seeing your dumb face?â
he doesnât answer. just lets out this soft, wrecked little soundâhalf-laugh, half-sighâas he wraps his arms around you again, tighter this time. he buries his face into your hoodie, right against your collarbone. you hug him back instantly, arms wrapping under his and holding him close. he clings. like heâs cold and youâre the only source of warmth heâll ever need.
âcome on,â you murmur, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head gently. âlet me see you, now.â
he shakes his head against you, just the tiniest movement. doesnât loosen his grip. doesnât lift his head.
âseungmin,â you whisper again, a little firmer, leaning back slightly so you can reach up and tug his hood down.
the fabric falls away. his hairâs tousled, still a little damp from a shower or maybe the rain outside, and his face is hiddenâtilted down, eyes trained on the floor. he still hasnât looked at you properly.
all he does is lift his hand up to his face. wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. you catch the tremble in his fingers.
a sniffle.
âoh, minnieâŠâ you whisper, your heart cracking wide open.
despite the way he towers over you, he looks smaller, his head bowed low like heâs trying to disappear into himself.
you coo softly, barely a sound.
that does it.
he lets out this weak, shaky sigh like heâs been holding it in since the moment he saw you at the concert, maybe longerâand your chest seizes with it. he turns his face just slightly, burying it into your shoulder again, arms wrapping tight around your waist like he's scared you'll vanish if he lets go.
your hands are already movingâone smoothing over his back, the other stroking his hairâyour body swaying with his as he starts to let out shaky, quiet gasps.
he sniffles again, shoulders still trembling, but when he finally speaks, itâs muffled into your hoodie. âthe members were betting on me. on whether or not iâd cry when i saw you.â
you let out a little laugh and reach up to cup his cheeks, gently swiping away the fresh tears still clinging to his lashes. âand who said you wouldnât cry?â
he hesitates. âme.â
you laugh againâsoft and a little breathlessâas your thumbs brush gently under his eyes. âof course you did,â you murmur, fingers sliding up to smooth through his damp hair.
he lets out a weak chuckle, eyes fluttering closed at your touch. he leans into your hand for a second before straightening up a bit, pulling his shoulders back like heâs trying to regain a sliver of composure.
even now, red-eyed and sniffling, thereâs still something solid about him. the way he holds you, the way he stands just a bit in front of you like heâd protect you from the world if it even looked at you wrong.
seungmin's lips part, like he wants to say something but the words wonât come. instead, he just stares at you, eyes darting across your face like heâs trying to take in every inch of you heâs missed. like heâs scared youâll be gone if he blinks too long.
âyou have no idea how much i needed this,â he whispers.
you step closer, hands finding his again. âthat's why i'm here.â
he shakes his head, fingers tightening around yours. âno, likeââ he exhales hard, eyes shining as he glances down at your joined hands. âyou donât get it. every night, iâd come back and just... lie on the hotel bed and pretend you were next to me. i missed everything. your voice, your stupid little yawns, the way you poke me when i zone out.â
you let out a laugh, watery and soft. âi do not poke you.â
âyou do,â he insists, eyes wide like itâs the most important fact in the world. âyou go like thisââ he imitates a jab to your side, making you laugh and swat his arm. he chuckles, bright and breathless, and then quiets.
your heart flutters and you donât even try to hide how it shows on your face. you tug his hand and backpedal toward the bed, flopping onto it with a gentle bounce. propped up on your elbows, you tilt your head at him. âcâmere.â
seungmin shrugs off his backpack, then tugs his hoodie off by the backâgrabbing it near the collar and pulling it over in one smooth, practiced motion. he holds it in front of him for a second, then slips out of the sleeves with the opposite hand.
his t-shirt clings in places and hangs loose in others, fabric soft and worn and framing the lean lines of his torso. your eyes fall on the way it shifts with every movementâsubtle dips of collarbone, the slight curve of his waist.
your fingers curl slightly in the blanket beneath you as he steps closer, and your breath hitches. you missed him. not just his face or his voice, but all of himâhow he moves, how he fills the space around you like no one else can.
seungmin gets onto the bed. the second he's close enough, your fingertips graze his forearm, his side, like youâre checking if heâs really here.
then he leans in, arms bracketing either side of your body, and your whole world narrows to just the space between you, until finally his lips brush against yours.
itâs soft. barely even a kiss at first, more like the ghost of one, like heâs still afraid heâll break the moment if he moves too fast. but you kiss him back, and then he presses in more fully. it's full of all the things youâve both been trying not to say out loud.
he kisses you again, and again, each one a little deeper than the lastâlike heâs making up for every single day you were apart. one hand comes up to cradle your jaw, his thumb sweeping tender over your cheek.
âi love you so much,â he whispers, like itâs a confession. like it still stuns him just how badly he felt it.
you nod, blinking back the sudden sting behind your eyes. âi love you too.â
he exhales shakily, and then he kisses you once moreâslow, full of longingâand you swear you feel the world right itself a little, just because heâs here.
he pulls away, just slightly, and rests his forehead against yours. your noses bump, and he closes his eyes, smiling so softly it barely lifts the corners of his mouth. âi was scared youâd forget about me.â
you shake your head, hand settling over his heart. âyouâre impossible to forget. trust me, i tried.â
âme too,â he breathes. âit was unbearable sometimes.â
you tilt your chin up and kiss the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, slow and lingering. his skin is warm under your lips, and you feel him exhale shakily, his body softening against yours like your touch is the thing holding him together.
his hands wander a little now, like he canât help itâtracing slow lines along your back, the dip of your waist, smoothing down your arm and back up again. his hand slips beneath the shirt under your hoodie, smoothing over bare skin, and your breath catches.
you let him pull the layers of fabric over your head. let him take his time. he kisses down your neck, your chest, every press of his lips asking, are you sure?
and every answer you give is yes.
you wake up slowly, feeling hazy. the curtains are still drawn, soft light peeking through just enough to glow against the sheets.
and then you feel his hand resting on your waist. his thumb tracing little circles on your skin, like he never stopped touching you even in his sleep.
you blink your eyes open.
heâs already awake, head propped on one arm, looking at you with the calmest expression youâve ever seen on him. the kind that makes your heart ache just a little because you know how much he doesnât show easily.
âyouâre staring,â you murmur, voice rough from sleep.
âyouâre pretty when youâre confused and squinty,â he says, lips curving just barely.
you smile, still half-asleep, but it turns real fast when he leans in and kisses you, his fingers brushing your cheek like heâs still making sure youâre real.
âgood morning,â you whisper.
âtechnically almost noon,â he teases. âbut yeah. itâs good now.â
he pulls back, just enough to give you room as you sit up, blanket tugged up to cover your chest. your fingers instinctively rake through your tangled hair, and he watches you with a little too much amusement.
then he shifts, reaching over the side of the bed to dig through his bag.
âi have something for you,â he says casually.
and then he turns back aroundâwith a box of macarons in his hand.
you gasp, grinning instantly. âyou didnât.â
he takes one out, and holds it to your lips.
âif you were here,â he says, softly now, âyouâd be eating one of these. and you are. so.â
you roll your eyes, but open your mouth anyway, taking a bite.
âsweet enough?â he murmurs.
you swallow, cheeks warm. âalmost.â
he leans in again, brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
ânow?â he asks.
âperfect,â you whisper.
and he smiles like he never wants to be anywhere else ever again.
The man in front of you was stunning. Gorgeous, really. He seemed nice, and made you laugh quite a bit.
With his pretty blue eyes and charming smile, his blonde hair faintly falling into his eyes.
You had went to the bar to keep your mind off things after a long day, one where you'd thought too much for your own head and felt too much for your poor heartâand it helped, between the laughs, stupid dances, flirts and many drinks. For a little while, at least, it did.
So, you didn't really know what it was. Maybe it was the alcohol buzzing in your ears. Or maybe the way he laughed a bit too much like him, head thrown back and shoulders hunched slightly, the corner of his eyes crinkling. Maybe it was just late, and you were getting a bit tired.
Maybe it was a mix of all those things, combined with the song that started playing from the speakers. The song from a group you knew just a little too well. Especially one of the members.
Whatever it was, his eyes started looking a little too brown, his hair a little too black, his cheeks a little too creased with dimples when he laughed.
And you found your smile becoming... more genuine. You laughed at something stupid he said, shaking your head in a way so fond you'd forgotten you could even do that. "Oh my god, shut up, Chan," you chuckled, gently smacking his arm.
He smirked and raised a brow. "Chan? Damn, is that your boyfriend or something? Didn't know I was flirting with someone taken," said the blonde guy with blue eyes and no dimples you were talking to.
"Huh?" You asked, a little hazy, the smile still gracing your lips.
"You called me Chan," chuckled the man, tilting his head. "Don't know who that is, but it's definitely not me, sweets."
You blinked a few times.
Oh.
Right.
Chan had moved away years agoâhow could you even forget that? Yeah, you were drunk, but still. You should know that.
You'd started dating in middle school, all the way to his departure. And when he moved all the way to Korea to become an idol, you kept in touch. Stayed together. Swore that you'd love eachother no matter what.
And it lasted, for about a year. Then, it got... weird. Messages got rarer and rarer, until they simply stopped. You knew it'd happen, in the very back of your mindâbeing an idol meant he'd get busy, but it still hurt.
Even years later, when you'd see him on your screen, singing his life out on stage, making crowds go wild like there was no tomorrow. His dimples, his eyes, his smile, his laugh, his voice, his lipsâ
"Hey! You listening to me?" Asked the stranger, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. "You've been ignoring me for, like, five whole minutes. If not ten. I'm too drunk to know right now," he chuckled.
You shook your head. "Yeah, no. Uh, sorry. Not my boyfriend. I'm single. You, uh, just look alike," you said, chuckling. Liar.
Maybe Chan had forgotten about you by now. He probably did, since his current life was... hard to keep up with, to say the least. There was no use watering a dead flower.
There was no use longing for a name that didn't remember yours.
So instead, you kept laughing. Flirting. Drinking. Hoping maybe, just maybe, enough alcohol would finally fill up that hole in your heart. Hoping that the burning in your throat would maybe warm you up enough to feel good.
A/N; I saw that one tiktok audio and thought "hey, I wanna write that with Han...". So guess what? I wrote that with Han (even though it's short asf)! Enjoy ;)
Tags; Fluff, written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns used, drunk!reader, whipped!han
Masterlist
Today had started just like any other day for both Han and you. He'd been working on a future song with Chan, while you had went to work and decided to stop by a bar and get a drink on your way back.
Now, he was laid on his back in his bed with his very sweet, very pretty and very drunk partner laying on him with your chin rested on his chest.
He played with your hair absentmindedly, listening to you ramble on and on about something he'd stopped paying attention to about twenty minutes ago.
To be fair, how could he when you were just... laying there, your eyes unfocused, your slightly flushed cheek pressed right over his heart?
So now, he was letting out small hums and right's, or some other sort of agreement to whatever you were saying every now and then, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist and a hand running up and down your back.
"Jagi?" you asked, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, propping your chin in your hand, not even glancing up at him as you tilted your head.
He hummed, staring at you, admiring you with a fondness no ammount of acting talent and photoshopping could fake.
"If I'm in my body, and you're in yours, with no way to swap... How can we ever truly be together?" you asked, legs swaying behind you in the air.
"Yeah..." he mumbled, absolutely not paying attention.
"No matter how hard I press my face into yours, a space remains... So am I alone?" you asked, your voice soft as ever.
"Yep..." He said softly, a hand cupping your cheek as he ran his thumb just under your eye. Then, his brain replayed the conversation, and his brows slightly jumped up as he realized what he just said. "Nope," he added after a few seconds of silence, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel as he pursed his lips.
Another pause. "...God, no," he said quietly, almost to himself.
You glanced up at him, blinking, before dipping your head abd nuzzling in the crook of his neck. "...I guess I'm okay being alone if I'm alone with you," you mumbled. "Love you," you slurred slightly, eyes fluttering closed.
He couldn't help the lovesick dmile gracing his lips. "Ilove you too. But you do know you're gonna hate yourself tommorow morning, right?" he teased.
"Mmh... Worth it," you murmured, burrying your head deeper into him
You quickly fell asleep after that, while he kept looking at you for God knpws how long, thinking about how on earth did he get so lucky and how to make it last a lifetime?
How did he, Han Jisung, an anxious mess that was pretty much the living version of "a loser trapped in a hot body", get someone like you to fall for someone like him?
He didn't know the answer. Maybe he didn't want to find it, or maybe he was scared of it. Right now, he simply didn't care. All he cared about was how your weight felt against him, and how absolutely whipped he was for you.
Sooo I take requests! Wether it's headcannons, specifics, small things they'd do etc.
Anyway, here's a list of yes, maybe and no considering what I could/would do!
Yes.
Headcannons
Fluff
Separate members (one by post)
Each member, individually (all in one post)
Fics
Sexual topics (kinks they'd have etc, but not direct smut.)
Social Media Au (smau)
Fake chats
Angst / No comfort
Angst / Comfort
F!reader
MENTIONS of homophobia, transphobia, traumas, family issues, friend issues... (see "no" for explanation)
SOME disorders (see "maybe" for explanation)
Mental health issues
SOME Physical health issues (same as disorders)
Bullying/Disrespect towards others and idols (see "no" for explanation)
Maybe ?
Series (fics with multiple parts)
OT8 (not individually, I'm just not experienced in writing poly but I could probably try??)
Gn!reader and m!reader (same as OT8; since I'm a girl, I dont really feel "comfortable" writing it?? But I COULD try)
Smut, but to warn you it is very likely never gonna happen. It might if, for some reason, some day, I say "yk what hell yeah" But I am a âvirginâ so I do NOT know how to write sex scĂšnes explicitly đ
Disorders. I do feel comfortable with writing it but I'd like to make sure you all know I might write some disorders not exactly how they'd be IRL, because I might not have them. I do not intend to put any disrespect on people with disorders and genuinely wish for them to get as well as they could.
Physical health issues (same as disorders)
No.
Any fics where a member of SKZ or/and reader is homophobic, trans phobic, etc. None of that here. HOWEVER, mentions of such AS LONG AS IT'S NOT GIVEN BY THEM is yes.
^ Same goes for bodyshaming, disrespecting disorders or other idols, bullying etc.
I hope you'll all have a lovely week, take care, and as my favourite childhood youtuber said: "never forget that a day without laughing is a loss, so SMILE!"
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