hey yall! im ella, and im from australia. i made this blog so i could post about my interests, but also anything else that comes to mind.
fun fact time!
➡️ im from victoria (aus)
➡️ i was born in 2004
➡️ some of my hobbies include: dance (mainly ballet), pilates, listening to music, and playing stardew valley (among many other things)
➡️ i have 7 grandparents (long story. im not related to all of them... duh)
➡️ i listen to pretty much any genre of music, but mainly kpop
➡️ i ult skz, and im an ot8
what you can expect to see here
fanfiction is my guilty pleasure, so expect to see some recs eventually! ill also post other stuff, including but not limited to: music recs, random gifs, cat memes... pretty much anything, really 🤷🏼♀️
thats all for now. i might as some more later though.
-> In a world of black and white, you only see colors after a kiss with your soulmate. Too bad your "soulmate" happens to be best friends with your enemy. Just make sure you don't kiss the wrong one.
bad boy!minho x fem!reader
enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, soulmate!au, he fell first and he fell harder
14.8K
warnings: cursing, kissing/making out, alcohol/drunkenness, mentions of toxic parents, overbearing responsibility and burn out, lowkey hurtful teasing
I'm going to be honest, this story has been in the making for a very very long time 😭 I'm so relieved it's here, so hopefully it's actually good and not just me lol
No seriously, if one more person orders spicy vegan ramen with a seasoned egg, you'll physically combust. The irritating part is that people order the dish like they're being super healthy or somehow superior because they're ordering a vegan option.
News flash: if you add an egg, it's not vegan.
Felix places another steaming bowl of noodles on the counter and taps his palm on the bell beside it. He smiles when you approach the bar, his eyes the only things visible when you peer into the kitchen though the small space meant for ramen bowls.
"Please end me," you mumble while balancing the bowl and a freshly prepared plate of dumpling appetizers in your hands.
"At least it's Friday. One more day and then your extended weekend commences." Felix chuckles at your over-exaggerated sigh.
"You have no idea how much I need this."
Working a full time job is hard enough as it is without working a part time gig on top of it. Ever since you moved out of your parents' place and started providing for yourself, it's been work work work all the time. But no matter how crappy you feel after a seemingly never ending work week, it's nothing compared to how crappy you felt living in that house.
Having Saturday, Sunday, and Monday off means a significantly smaller paycheck, but it also means actual sleep for the first time in god knows how long.
You return to Felix's counter with another ticket in hand, and he gets to work preparing another bowl of, you guessed it, spicy vegan ramen with a seasoned egg.
"You'll need this break for when you come back, for sure," he comments nonchalantly, tossing his noodles in the strainer and whistling while he works.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know," Felix says, flicking his cooking chopsticks at you, "how you're taking over for Jaq while he's at that leadership conference."
"Umm, no I'm not.”
"According to the schedule, you are."
"I never said I would cover him. I'm not a manager, so I can't anyway, remember? They said a raise for me wasn't in the budget.”
Felix shrugs, his eyes bouncing to the back wall where your weekly schedules are posted. "Well, you might wanna talk to Jaq about that considering he's got you covering as manager all next week."
"Are you serious?"
"Dead ass.”
Sure enough, when you approach the calendar on the wall, there's your name in the exact spot Jaq's name is supposed to be. Operational Manager. All week. Extra responsibility but no extra pay.
"But--" your opposition is interrupted by chimes, signaling more customers have entered the building.
You make a mental note to contact Jaq before you leave. This isn't the first time your manager has attempted to hand off his responsibilities to you, and unless you say something, it won't be the last. Yeah, you're a good worker and you're willing to go the extra mile, but a line has to be drawn somewhere. If you're gonna make it anywhere in this damn world, you can't afford to be a doormat.
Reaching back to tighten your ponytail, you plaster a smile on your face and go greet your new customers.
"Hi, welcome to--"
"Hey, __."
"Jisung?" You splurt his name through frazzled lips and brush off your apron. "Hey, what are you, uhh, doing here?"
Jisung chuckles, resting his elbows on the hostess stand and leaning over to smile at your unexpected reaction. "I wanted some ramen, and someone told me this place has the best in town."
With an agonizingly girly giggle, you affirm his tip is true, twirling a strand of your ponytail around a finger. "Who told you that?”
“A friend.” He shrugs, his shoulders becoming even broader for a split second, making your knees lock. "So, can we get a table?"
Your brow furrows in confusion. "We?"
At that moment, the familiar chimes of the front door sound again and in walks the mood killer himself.
"I couldn't find a parking space up front, so we're all the way in the back corner, Jisung." The new guy flashes you a smirk, scanning up and down your body with intentionality. "Hey, ___."
All your flirty body language dies as your chest sinks in despair.
"Hi, Minho."
“I totally forgot you work here now.”
“I'm sure you did.” You look back to Jisung. "Is this…?"
"Yeah!" he exclaims, throwing an arm around his friend's shoulder. "He's the one who suggested this place. I didn't realize you worked here either. I thought you were over at that plant house place still.”
“Oh. I am…”
“Wait, so you work both jobs?”
“Uh, yeah. It's not a long term thing. Just until I can save up some money, you know.”
Jisung just smiles at you, completely oblivious to the embarrassment spreading across your cheeks.
Minho flashes you an amused smirk, but you refuse to acknowledge it. Grabbing two menus and sets of chopsticks, you lead the boys to a table by the bathroom and take their drink order.
"Coke!" Jisung says with a grin, one big enough to spark a smile on your lips as well.
Then Minho opens his annoying mouth.
"Do you have Pepsi?"
"No," you say with the most polite tone you can manage, "we have Coke products."
"I'll take a Sierra Mist."
Deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale.
"Is Sprite okay?"
Minho thinks hard for a moment – a long moment – enjoying the impatient way your toe taps on the floor.
"I guess so.” He sits back, hiding his face with his menu, but you can still see the cheeky way his shoulders bounce as he holds back a laugh.
Turning on your heel, you head to the drink station to make their sodas. You're not supposed to feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up unless it's like a fight or flight situation, right? Every single strand has been on high alert since Minho's unrealistically proportioned face came staggering through the door.
No, you don't like him. But that doesn't make you blind. Minho is handsome (not as handsome as Jisung), and that's probably one of the reasons for his ridiculously cocky attitude. His head has been filled with egotistical nonsense since he was born, convinced he doesn't have to work hard to get anything while people like you work their butts off just so they can live in a non-toxic environment.
"___, pssttt!"
You calmly follow Felix's totally inconspicuous gesture for you to come closer to the counter.
"What?"
"Is that him?" Felix asks, whispering as loud as can be.
You try not to make it obvious to the boys that you're talking about them, but in the end it's probably pretty obvious, what with the way both of you repeatedly glance in their direction.
You answer Felix with a shy nod.
"He's so cute!"
"Shhh! Do you want him to hear us?" If you weren't carrying two drinks you'd slap your hand over the doofus' mouth. "Back off, he's mine."
Felix giggles. He gives you a little wink and nod, silently approving of your long term crush he's only just recently earned the right to know about.
Jisung thanks you when you place their drinks down. His voice itself makes you almost blush, but you manage to control the rush of your heartbeat by subjecting your eyes to the other guest at the table.
"Did you have any questions about the menu?"
Minho taps his chin, his finger grazing over the menu options like he's choosing his career path.
Jisung playfully scoffs at his friend. He lifts his chin towards you and asks, "Which one is your favorite?"
"Me? I like the classic chicken ramen. But I usually get it without the chicken. The Tonkotsu is good too...but I usually get it without the pork."
Jisung licks his lips. Obviously your suggestions sound good to him, which makes you feel useful, and you get to watch his tongue slip over his lips, leaving behind a glistening coat which only proves to make them look even more attractive somehow.
He orders the Tonkatsu like you suggested (with the pork but that's okay, he's still adorable), and then it's Minho's turn.
"I'll have the Spicy Vegan ramen.”
“Okay, anything el–”
“Can I get a seasoned egg in it too?”
There's no way Minho could have known about your little pet peeve, but that doesn't stop your brain from being convinced he just did that on purpose.
"Of course," you write down their orders, pen digging into your pad, "anything else?"
"No thanks," Jisung says, handing you the menus.
Your finger brushes over his thumb for only a brief moment, but it's all your stomach needed to start doing flips.
Running back to Felix's counter, you give him their order and continue to serve the other scarce customers in the store. No matter how tempted you are to eavesdrop on their conversation just to hear Jisung's deep, melodic voice, you manage to preoccupy yourself with at least somewhat productive tasks until their orders are ready.
"Here you go, Jisung, one Tonkatsu for you. I really hope you like it." Jisung matches your smile when you place the bowl in front of him, already breaking his chopsticks and getting ready to dig in.
When you turn to the other guest, he's waiting patiently, arms crossed and lips flat.
"Spicy Vegan...with an egg." You drop the bowl on the table in front of him.
"Thanks," Minho responds, copying your deadpan tone.
"Let me know if you need anything else," you tell the table (Jisung). "I'll just be right over there, by the counter."
Jisung can't audibly answer you because he's currently got his face halfway in a bowl of ramen, but he gives you a thumbs up before you walk away.
Felix whistles his soft tune while you begin cleaning the counter, nonchalantly whistling along.
"So," he says after a moment.
"So."
"Not a fan of the friend, huh?"
"It's not that," you sigh, obviously conflicted, "Minho wasn't always a bad guy."
"So there's a history?" Felix sings, tossing a pan in the sink behind him and beginning to scrub while talking over his shoulder. "Do tell."
You carry over a large stack of menus and begin spraying them down one by one.
"I mean, he and Jisung have been brothers for, god, I don't even know how long. And then when I joined their friend group, we all got along really well. And then Minho found--" you lower your voice and lean in closer so Felix can hear you over the running water in the sink, "found out I have a crush on, you know…"
"Yeah?" Felix urges you to continue, grabbing a towel to dry his hands.
"And he just never let me live it down. He teased me about it all the time. It got so bad I stopped going over, stopped hanging out. I didn't even tell them I got this job. Minho must have found out somehow." You glance in the boys' direction, Jisung practically spewing ramen from his nose because Minho said something funny. “Sometimes it feels like he's trying to be mean just to be mean, and sometimes, I don't know, it's like he has to have my attention at all times and never lets me talk with Jisung alone."
"How dramatic."
"I know, right? Oh, hold on."
You notice Jisung's drink is almost empty so you quickly make a second Coke and bring it to the table.
"Here you go," you say, tucking a loose strand of your ponytail behind your ear as you give him the drink.
Jisung instantly lights up. "Thanks, ___! By the way, this ramen is amazing. Your reputation precedes you."
“I'm glad you like it. You always eat so well.”
Jisung is smiling at you, and it's wonderful, until—
“Ow! Dude!” He jerks in his chair, a harsh movement caused by Minho kicking his shin under the table. You stand with raised brows, unsure of how you're supposed to react in this situation.
"Ugh," Jisung blinks, reaching under the table to sooth his leg, "so, we're having a party this Sunday at our place. You should come. It'll be fun, like old times."
Like old times? As if the time when you were all friends is some distant memory from decades ago. You did distance yourself without a detailed explanation, but you also tried to keep up with him as much as possible. Your crush on him never faltered, that's for sure. Things must have looked a little different from his point of view.
Minho's expectant expression is not helping you answer. Of course, if this was any normal weekend you'd just say you have work, but you're gonna be on a break. You could lie, but it'd be too easy to get caught if they happened to visit here again. Besides, you wouldn't mind going to Jisung's apartment for a party if it weren't for one tiny detail who's name starts with M.
"I'm actually driving my little sister to her date this weekend, so…"
"Really? Where is it?'
"The movie theater. They're catching a late showing of that new movie. The one with Dylan O'Brien, I think."
Jisung perks up, almost knocking over his bowl of half eaten ramen with his elbow. "That's perfect! Drop her off and then come hang out with us. You can leave whenever you need to pick her up after the movie."
"What's the party for again?"
"Minho and I have been roommates for a whole year."
"You're celebrating...your roommate anniversary?"
"We did it at 6 months," Jisung informs you casually, because two dudes celebrating the day they moved in together is totally normal and not gay at all.
Minho takes a large slurp of his noodles. "If you don't wanna come, we can invite someone else," he smacks, turning to Jisung with excited eyes. "Remember that cute girl from--"
"I can come," you interrupt, trying to be casual and failing.
Minho swallows, his eyes shifting to you with a knowing smirk. "Really? We don't wanna force you if you're gonna be busy."
You shake your head, tightening your ponytail with a harsh pull. "It's fine. Like Jisung said, I can chill while my sister is in the movie."
"Great."
"Great."
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Jisung doesn't notice, but it's there. The heat rising between you and Minho is so hot it makes you feel sticky underneath your long slacks and work pollo. You'd love to give his cheeky smile a right smack across the face.
For now, all you can do is ask one question.
"Is the check going to be together or separate?"
::
Tossing your bag and keys on the counter, you fall into your kitchen chair and drop your head into your arms. Exhausted from your shift, the ticking of the clock on your wall doesn't let up. You really should buy a silent clock, but that one was so cheap.
You would have felt better if you had the chance to catch Jaq after your shift, but the douchebag ditched before you could. He won't answer your calls or any of your texts asking about the week you're supposedly going to be managing in his place. It's not like being a manager is difficult; you've run a shift by yourself before, but it's the fact that he didn't ask, and it's not like you're getting paid overtime.
If you had the guts, you'd just ditch too and let the store go up in flames without leadership. But unfortunately, your sense of responsibility is too adamant. Jaq knows it too, which is why he's ignoring you right now. People who pull manipulative bullshit like that really make you angry.
You should quit. But there's one reason you won't.
"___!" The sound of your younger sister tumbling down the hallway doesn't faze you. "You're home!"
Ava is, in one word, stunning. Her body is perfectly symmetrical, as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Her hair is long and wavy and never tangled, always soft. Her eyes are large and innocent, and when she speaks it's like a beautiful spring rain after a drought; everyone listens. Even wearing torn or poorly made clothes, she is exquisite. She's kind and humble and optimistic even in the midst of struggles. Everyone wants to be her and everyone wants to love her.
But damn, she's clumsy.
"Whoa!" The familiar sound of Ava falling flat on her face forms a smile on your lips. You rest your chin on the table, peeking up to see her fumbling back to her feet.
She plops down across from you and reaches out to hold your hand. "How was work?"
"We're ordering pizza."
"That good, huh?"
The smile you share is incomparable. Ava may only be fifteen, but she’s been through shit, and it shows in her maturity level and emotional intelligence.
Eventually, you were old enough to stand up to your parents' toxic behavior, but Ava, still being a minor, there wasn't really anything she could do. Saving your younger sibling from that household was your top priority after finally getting your own place and money.
Getting your mom to agree to let Ava live with you was a fight, one you were beyond determined to win. Because you both had to grow up so quickly, living together has actually been fairly smooth. You've been able to healthily demonstrate what a home is supposed to be and feel like for her. Yeah, providing for two people on minimum wage is tough, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
Ava is very responsible and much wiser than most teenagers you would say. Which is nice when you're stressed but don't have the words to explain you want space. She's your rock. Just as much as you saved Ava, she's rescued you from things she doesn't even realize.
After the pizza is ordered and you've successfully changed into comfy pants, Ava pulls you into her room and begins ravaging through her closet while you sit on her bed.
"I'm so nervous," she confides in you, "I think he's gonna ask me to be his girlfriend."
One thing you really appreciate about your sister is the way she trusts people. Not to say she does so easily. On the contrary, Ava’s trust is one of the most difficult things someone will earn in their entire life. But once you've got it, you've got it. She'll never give you a reason to doubt her trust.
"Girlfriend status? Ooooo, what makes you think that?" you ask with a playful shimmy.
Ava throws an outfit onto the bed next to you. "Because...reasons."
"What reasons?"
After fishing out one more outfit, Ava launches onto the bed, facing you and suddenly holding both your hands. "Okay, so you were dealing with a lot last week getting your bosses to agree to a break, and I didn't want to pile onto that but...I have some news."
You wait in anticipation. 'News' could be good or bad, but based on the way her eyes are literally twinkling, you're assuming it's good news.
"Jeongin kissed me."
"He what?!"
Ava buries her face in your hands, squealing and giggling. For a moment, you're reminded she's only fifteen, even though most of the time she acts so much older.
"It was so fucking cute! We were sitting there and he just looked at me and asked 'can I kiss you?' And of course I said 'yes' and then he kissed me and it was just ugh!”
“When was this!?”
“Last week.”
"Ava, that's adorable! Why didn't you tell me?"
She swings your arms and shyly plays with the spaces between your fingers. "You were so stressed and I knew you needed space and sleep, so I decided to wait. But oh my god, I'm so glad I told you because I don't think I could have waited another day," she sighs, legitimately relieved.
You smile. You can tell Ava is legitimately happy to have had her first kiss. You're even happier to know it was with someone she likes and who likes her. You've only met Jeongin in passing a few times, but you trust your sister's judgment, and if this guy can earn Ava's trust, then he's got yours too.
"So now your only issue is…?”
"What do I wear to our movie date? I'm really nervous he's gonna ask me to be his girlfriend, and I wanna look as mature as possible so he doesn't have any second thoughts."
"Ava," you reassure her with a stroke of her hair, "you're plenty mature enough. You should enjoy having a first boyfriend. Enjoy kissing, enjoy going out, enjoy school. You've grown up so much already, so you can slow down for one movie date. I don't want you to worry about anything, alright? Of course, he's not going to have second thoughts. Just promise me you're going to enjoy being fifteen."
The way your sister watches you, so much respect, thankfulness, and love, warms your chest, but also lays one of the heaviest burdens you've ever felt on it. She looks up to you, in a way she never looked up to your parents. Your greatest fear is letting her down.
"I promise."
It takes longer than you were expecting to pick out an outfit. The pizza came a while ago and after three slices, Ava has filtered through over half her closet.
"What was wrong with the last one?" you ask, stuffing the last bite of crust into your mouth.
Your sister is beyond distressed. Her long hair has fallen out of the messy bun she originally tied up in preparation, and her floor is littered with unworthy dresses and jeans.
"It doesn't look right."
"It looks fine--"
"The colors don’t match!" Ava slaps her hand over her lips, eyes wide in shock at what she just said.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."
Ava tries to put away the outfit, but you keep a firm grip and refuse to let her take it.
"What. Did. You. Say?" you ask again, this time firmer.
Your sister doesn't answer. She slowly weakens her hold on the dress until it slips from her grasp. She doesn't have to say anything else. Her guilty expression and inability to look you in the eye says it all.
"You're seeing color," you accuse.
Ava winces.
Taking her by the shoulders, you sit Ava on the bed and cross your legs beneath yourself, scooting closer until she has no choice but to face you. "Since when?"
She's hesitant to say, but eventually she releases her trapped bottom lip and tells you, "Since...we kissed."
"Since you kissed?"
"Yeah…”
That's how you see color. A first kiss with your soulmate. Even if you don't consciously decide this, your subconscious connects the dots and begins planting idea after idea in the back of your mind.
“I'm sorry, ___.”
“Why are you apologizing?” you ask gently. “It's great that you see color after kissing Jeongin. That means he's your soulmate, right?”
“I guess so…I just feel bad.”
“About what?”
She doesn't say it exactly, but she doesn't have to. Both of you are acutely aware of your deep desire to see color, while Ava has never really shown any interest in the matter. Of the two of you, you're the one who's been harboring a crush and praying religiously for the chance of a life-changing kiss. But Ava got it first.
“Listen to me,” you bring her eyes to yours, speaking softly so as not to copy or trigger any past trauma you know you both have when it comes to jealousy in the home, “I'm happy for you, Ava. Really. And I want to hear every detail.”
“You're not mad?”
You shake your head with a safe smile, giving her hand a squeeze. “No, I'm not mad. I could never be mad that you're happy.”
“Thanks, ___.”
Ava looks around the room, obviously scanning over the different colors she can see. Can she see all of them? Are they clear? Was it a sudden click or did they develop over time? How many are there? Are they bright? Within the lines? There are a thousand questions you could ask, but your lips land on one…
"What does it look like?"
"I don't know how to explain it," Ava admits quietly. "It's just...better."
You scoop up a dress off the floor and hold it up. "What color is this?"
“Red.”
“What does red look like?”
Your sister hisses, "I'm not sure how to explain it, but it's close to the same color as the sauce on the pizza."
Pizza sauce? People wear stuff the same color as food? Isn't that weird though?
"How about this one?" you ask, shoving a pair of jeans in her face.
“Blue?” She shrugs. "I mean it's not fully blue, but I really don't know what to call it. There's so many names, and I haven't learned them all yet.”
"Sorry," you mutter in realization. Of course she wouldn't know everything yet. It's been less than a week since Jeongin kissed her, and here you are asking her to name colors left and right.
It's rude to ask someone who can see color what color things are when you can't even possibly understand their answer. This is because usually it's someone younger bugging someone who's older, but Ava is fifteen! Seeing color that young is almost unheard of.
"Does Jeongin see it too?"
Your sister tries not to smile for your own emotional sanity, but it's difficult when you start mentioning her soon-to-be beau. She nods, and your world somehow crashes and becomes electrified at the same time.
Your little sister found her soulmate. She's found her person, her best friend, her partner in crime, her lifetime lover. This is a beautiful thing, but try as you will to shut down the feeling, your chest is sinking into your stomach. You feel sick. Why couldn't it have been you?
"Ava?"
"Yeah?"
"I know this may be kinda rude, but...could I ask you one more question?"
"Of course."
You lift your chin, gaze flicking between your sister’s still colorless eyes. “What color are my eyes?”
Ava smiles. She places a gentle hand on your cheek, brushing upwards to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "The same as mine. Beautiful."
After a decently lengthy crying session, you feel better. Ava cuddles you on the couch while you watch one of your favorite movies and devour the rest of the pizza. She offers you the last piece, but you insist she have it.
What Ava doesn't realize is the way your insides churn at the thought of losing her to some boy, no matter how lovely and colorful he may be, the same way it churns at the thought of you never knowing the color of pizza sauce.
As you sit with Ava, her new-found joy in color and first love is so raw and innocent. You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, a fear you didn’t expect. It's like you're losing her to Jeongin, to someone else who’s going to be the one she turns to, the one she laughs with, the one she confides in.
The one she sees the world with.
She won't need you anymore.
A part of you wants to hold on, but you know it's good that she’s growing up, and this is what’s meant to happen. It just sucks that it hasn't happened to you yet.
But you shouldn't forget, you have the ability to take control over what happens in your story from here on out. And apparently all you need...is a kiss.
Jisung would put an exclamation mark between every word. The hanging sign on the front door doesn't help your nervousness, and neither does the deep bass of pop music coming from inside. Have none of his neighbors said anything? He's so charming, they probably tried, and he just sweet talked his way out of it.
Maybe this isn't such a great idea. It sounds loud in there, and you'll probably just end up sticking to the wall anyway. Maybe you should just go back to the movie theater parking lot and watch YouTube until Ava’s date is over–
You gasp when the door suddenly swings open to reveal a tipsy Jisung, plastic cup in his hand, and a party hat perched cattywampus on his hair. His boba eyes are wide, glassy from the alcohol, and his grin is infectious, radiating warmth.
As soon as he sees you, his smile spreads even wider. "You're here! Thank god!” His voice, though slurred, is full of excitement, his words tumbling out like a little kid.
And all of a sudden, you're drawn in. His cheeks are warm and a little swollen, as if he's been pinching them too much. They carry a subtle, inviting glow, the kind you get from a little too much laughter and a lot of good vibes. His expression is lit up from within, contagious to the point of recklessness that makes him seem more alive than ever.
He looks mesmerizingly beautiful despite the stretched t-shirt and ripped jeans. You can’t help but notice the glistening sheen on his lips and the oddly shaped spot on his neck.
His eyes stay locked on you as if you’re the only thing in the room, the chaos of the party fading into the background. You feel it in your gut – a magnetic pull, something that has you enchanted and undeniably drawn in. It’s just a smile. Just Jisung, drunk and goofy. But why does your heart skip like this?
“Come on,” he grabs your hand, his skin much too hot for comfort, “We need one more person to make it even!”
“Even?” you manage a single word but nothing more before he's dragging you inside.
Your nerves twist up tighter as you step inside, the music pounding through your chest. The apartment is packed. Friends laugh, drink, and mill about, making it hard to focus on anything other than the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.
He pulls you along to join a large circle of people, all equally or more drunk off whatever liquor is in their cups.
“Our final player is finally here!” Jisung announces. “Let the game continue!”
A drink is immediately thrust into your hand. You stare at it, trying to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach. It's probably best you don't drink right now, after all, you still have to drive Ava home later.
"Game?" you ask, confused.
“Yeah, we're playing The Colorblind Test,” he explains casually.
“What!?”
Jisung just laughs and claps you on the back. "Don't worry, it's all in good fun!”
Giggles commence from boys and girls alike all around the circle. From a simple observation you can see which individuals have had more luck of the draw, and which are still waiting for their turn.
You've heard of the game, but never played. It's typically more of a party game, and you don't often find yourself at parties. The rules are fairly simple, so you're not unfamiliar with them.
Everyone's names are put into a hat, and then two names are drawn. Those two people put on blindfolds and are shoved into a closet. Then they kiss. When they come out, the blindfolds are removed, and everyone asks if they can see color or not.
Rinse and repeat.
It may seem progressive, but it's really just for horny singles who want to make out under the guise of finding their soulmate. It's not a classy game in the least, and you don't know of a single couple who's met and lasted because of it.
Hold on – your eyes are immediately glued onto Jisung. His swollen lips, spots along his neck, puffy cheeks, stretched t-shirt. His name has definitely been drawn more than once.
Your stomach sinks.
He's the only person you would even want to kiss. And as your name is written on a piece of paper and dropped into the hat, your heart leaps into your throat at the thought of being stuck with anyone else.
You take a quick search of the room for a head count, doing quick mental math to see what chances you have of your name and Jisung’s name being drawn together.
That's when you see him.
Minho is lounging on the floor, back against the foot of the couch. He's the only one without a drink in his hand or a spill on his clothes. You knew he had to be here (it is partially his party after all), but he doesn't appear too interested in the game when the hat is shaken in preparation for the next draw.
As the chaos of the party continues behind you, his eyes lock on yours. It’s as if all the noise and movement fades into the background. You can feel his focus on you like a tangible thing, incapable of being broken. His expression is unreadable, but there's something sharp, something grounded in his gaze that makes you realize almost instantly…he’s definitely sober.
He’s the only one here with that steady clarity in his eyes, the only one not swaying or grinning like a fool. His posture is relaxed, but there’s a tension in the way he watches you, almost like he’s waiting for something, but what?
Then, amidst the laughter and makeshift drum rolls, you hear it:
“___ and Jisung!”
The announcement barely registers with you at first. But then you notice Minho's reaction. It’s subtle, but it’s there. His expression shifts, and for a moment, you swear you catch the flicker of something close to panic in his eyes.
He blinks, and then it’s gone, masked by his former stoic demeanor, but he heard.
And he's not thrilled.
Several arms are suddenly around you, taking your drink, wrapping a blindfold around your eyes, and playfully shoving you in the direction of an empty bedroom.
You’re too thrown off to argue, and before you know it, you’re standing in a dark room, the air conditioner blowing low and thick from the ceiling vent. Sounds are muffled by the blindfold covering half your ears. All you can do is carefully reach out in front of you, turning left and then right, trying to find some kind of dresser or wall you can brace yourself against.
“Hello?” you try, voice small.
You can feel it before you even hear him move, the subtle shift in the air, the sensation that someone else is right behind you.
His presence is undeniable, like a calm yet steady force that fills the space. It’s not invasive, but it’s undeniable. There’s something about the way he stands that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. Your heart starts to beat a little faster, not out of fear, but because his energy is magnetic and you want him to be closer.
You turn around, senses sharp even though your vision is obscured. Your hand reaches out, tentative, searching for him in the darkened space. It brushes against something solid, warm.
His chest.
Your palm instinctively flattens against him, feeling the growing rise and fall beneath your fingertips. The outline of his body is strong, his muscles shifting subtly beneath his shirt when he breathes, his heartbeat getting faster under your hand.
And then, without warning, his hand closes around your wrist. It’s a firm, gentle grip, and before you can register it fully, he’s pulling you closer, your body pressed against his in an intimate yet careful movement.
You barely have time to process before he leans down, his breath mingling with yours. There’s no rush. His lips hover just close enough for you to feel the warmth, for you to melt into the moment as he gives you a chance to push him away.
But you don't.
You push forward that last inch and close the space with confidence. When your lips finally meet, it’s like the world drops away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in the softness of a kiss that speaks volumes with no sound.
The kiss deepens instantly, the air between you both thickening with desire. His lips are urgent now, pulling you in as his arms wrap around you, strong and secure. Every movement feels instinctive, like you both know exactly what comes next without thinking. It's raw and urgent, with none of the precision but all of the passion.
You feel the overwhelming urge to be closer in whatever way possible. So, you start to silently beg, needy hands finding their way to his shoulders as you try to climb him to bring yourself even nearer, the heat of his body against yours becoming addictive. Your chest presses against his, and his grip on you tightens, his hands on the curve of your back, tempted but respectfully not gripping your ass (unfortunately).
When your tongues finally meet, it’s a slow, deliberate movement, exploring and teasing as you both lose yourselves in the rhythm. He tastes like defiance, like a long forgotten rule just waiting to be broken. He's electric, untamed and unfiltered, the taste of freedom in its purest form. He makes you want to be wild and unrestrained, and do anything and everything you know you shouldn't.
The room spins, but all you can focus on is the feeling of him against you and how much you want his weight on top of you. A low groan escapes his throat, as though he's assuring you that he’s more than willing to provide whatever you want, halfway caught between pathetic submission and claiming ownership.
You can physically feel his desperation growing, his grip tightening on your waist, his lips moving faster, harder, like he’s afraid the moment may end too soon. He’s starting to get a little rough with the way he holds you, jerking you into him and sinking his teeth into your lips like they've always been his.
Each time he successfully draws a small sound from you, his body reacts in a sinfully wonderful way.
Suddenly, your feet stumble underneath you, and before you can regain balance, you fall backwards onto a bed with a grunt. He follows too, but somehow, his body doesn't crush you. There’s an ease in the way he hovers, supporting himself on his arms just enough to keep the weight from overwhelming you, but still close enough to feel overtaken by him in the best way.
You know this is getting dangerous. You can tell by the way your hips shift to make room for him, the way his kisses abandon your lips to trace down your neck, the way his hand asks for permission to slide up the inside of your thigh.
You don't want him to stop, as your fingers grip his hair.
“Jisung…” you mutter breathlessly, barely able to get the name out as your world starts to melt past the point of no return.
He freezes above you, his body stiffening in a way that’s too noticeable. He doesn’t say a word, but you can feel the shift in the air between you two. His kisses halt, his weight slowly lifting.
Before you can ask him what's wrong, the door swings open with a loud bang. A chorus of giggles and applause enters the room, bombarding you in stimulus you were not prepared for.
All of a sudden, he's ripped from you. Your hand attempts to hang onto him by his collar, refusing to let go until his shirt is stretched so far, you hear a small rip in the fabric.
You’re surrounded by people who drag you outside before you can even catch your bearings, voices loud and unforgiving. It’s like the world has suddenly snapped back into reality, and you’re left disoriented, heart racing and mind in a fog.
You're shoved out of the room. Before you're even balanced on your feet, the blindfold is pulled off your face.
Your eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the light.
Standing in front of you is a shocked Jisung, half in disbelief and half in amusement. He doesn't seem at all affected by the brightness of the room, with one arm draped around the shoulder of a friend and the other hand holding his drink, as though the chaos of the moment is nothing but a joke to him.
He’s giggling, light and carefree. And then he looks at you, his eyes practically sparkling.
“Well?” he asks eagerly, as if you were just participating in some innocent, playful game. “See anything?”
You blink again, your heart pounding in your chest, and slowly, the reality sinks in.
It wasn’t Jisung you kissed.
Your gaze shifts to the man beside you. He's adjusting his jeans in the most obvious way, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
The collar of his shirt. Ripped.
Minho.
His eyes dart briefly to yours, and there’s a subtle tension in his posture. His expression mirrors your shock for only a moment, and then he shows a cocky, winning smile.
“You tricked me?”
“Don’t worry.” Minho flashes you a grin, his voice dripping with playful amusement. “You get a five-star review for that kiss, baby.”
He high-fives a friend like it was nothing. Like he didn't just crack your heart. Like he's not the biggest ass you've ever met and will ever meet. Like he doesn't even care about soulmates or love or anything respectful.
Like he's never cared about you even in the slightest.
You stand there, frozen in place, unable to fully process the whirlwind of emotions knocking you down. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, each aching beat reverberating with disbelief. The world seems to tilt on its axis, and the ground beneath you is unsteady, as if you're the one who's drunk.
What just happened? How did that happen? The kiss…so intense, so electric, so real…it felt so right in the moment. The possibility of it being someone other than Jisung didn't even cross your mind. Because how could someone do something that cruel?
Your head is spinning. The air feels thick, suffocating, as if every breath you take is too sharp, too much. You’re utterly humiliated. Your mind is still processing the fact that you just kissed Minho – not Jisung – let alone that everyone’s laughing like it’s just some practical, harmless joke.
You feel your stomach drop, a sinking feeling that claws at you, the knot in your throat growing tighter with every passing second. You blink rapidly, trying to clear the blur of tears in your eyes, but the embarrassment, the shock, the disbelief, all collide together, clouding your vision and reasoning.
It was all a joke at your expense. The entire thing, from the kiss to the moment when he high-fived his friends, was nothing more than a laugh for them. To you, it was your chance to finally make Jisung understand what he means to you.
But to them, it was just some game.
And now all you feel is exposed, stupid, and utterly deflated.
“....color?” Jisung’s voice drags you out of your spiraling thoughts.
“Huh?”
“So? Do you see any color?”
You open your mouth but can’t find the words. You’re speechless, the entire night having caught you so off guard. You shake your head.
In fact, the world is even colder and blander than it's ever been.
Jisung, still clueless to your emotional whirlwind, looks over at Minho, a playful smirk still lingering on his lips. “Minho, do you see anything?”
Minho meets your eyes, and for just a moment, you see a flicker of discomfort. But it’s gone as quickly as it appears. His face sets back into his usual cocky demeanor, and he gives a nonchalant shrug.
“Come on, man,” Jisung presses. “Do you see color or not?”
This time, Minho’s gaze softens just a little. He notices the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, the hurt that’s building up inside, the pain that everyone else is too drunk to notice.
You don't hide any of it. You want him to notice. You want him to feel like shit for what he's done.
“No,” he says, his voice quieter this time, the playful edge gone. “Why would I?”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut, finally bringing you to the point of falling tears.
You can’t stay in the room any longer.
Without waiting, you turn and flee. Your legs move on their own, carrying you away from the clueless laughter, from any eyes that still linger on you – including Minho’s. You don't stop until you're outside, the cool air hitting your face like a splash of cold water.
You don’t care that they didn’t follow you. You don’t care that the night is still young and there's still an hour left of Ava’s date before you can pick her up. All you care about is getting the hell away from Lee Minho.
::
This break was supposed to be a time to unwind. A few days to finally finish that book you’ve been meaning to get into, to lounge around in your pajamas all day, to catch up on a show you’ve missed, or to try a new recipe or restaurant. You had plans. No stress, no chaos, just a chance to breathe.
But instead, you’ve spent the entire time on the verge of tears. The sting of that night keeps replaying in your mind, like a bad movie you can’t escape. No matter how many times you’ve tried to distract yourself, to shake it off, to tell yourself it was just a prank, the hurt still lingers.
Every time you close your eyes, the image of Minho’s smug smile, Jisung’s drunk excitement, and your own humiliation floods back, like an endless loop. You’ve cried so much your abs ache from the tension, your eyes are constantly puffy, and your lashes are perpetually wet from the tears that won’t stop falling.
You’re not okay, as much as you wish you could be. You can’t shake the feeling of being played with and worse – none of your so-called friends seemed to care. It’s like everyone was in on the joke except for you.
Wait a second…did…did Jisung invite you to the party just to play a prank? You're not stupid, Minho definitely kicked him under the table to get him to invite you. Were they both in on it? It certainly seemed that way when you came out of the bedroom, and Jisung was smiling like a drunk idiot.
Oh god…they both played you. They set you up. Which means…Minho probably told Jisung about your crush on him too. That's why he was laughing. Fuck.
There’s a soft knock at the door, so gentle you almost don’t hear it. For a moment, you just stare at the wall, wishing you could be invisible.
“___?” your sister's voice barely above a whisper travels through the wall.
The door creaks open, and your little sister walks in, a small bowl of fruit in her hands. She’s stepping very delicately, like you might shatter if she approaches too fast.
“You should probably eat something,” she says, her voice kind with an edge of concern. “You haven’t really eaten all day.”
“I’m not hungry.”
She places the bowl down on the nightstand, then climbs into bed next to you, her presence warm and comforting. She doesn’t ask any more questions about why you’re still in bed. Ava’s not the type to push when she knows you need space, but you can feel her worry weighing heavily on her.
After a moment of silence, she speaks again. “Are you sure you want to go to work tomorrow?” she asks quietly, her fingers tapping lightly on the blanket between you two. “Why don’t you just take one more day off?”
You sigh deeply, rubbing your eyes in frustration. “I can’t afford that. We have to pay rent, remember?”
The weight of your responsibilities feels even heavier now, especially with the thought of facing work tomorrow. You’re not sure you even have the energy to do it, but the bills won’t stop coming just because you’re exhausted.
Ava doesn’t say anything at first. Then she pulls something from her pocket and unfolds it in front of you.
She hands you a check, a hundred dollars or so. Nothing crazy, but it's clearly earned. You look at her, eyebrows furrowed, a confused frown tugging at your lips.
“What is this?”
“I’ve been working at the pizza parlor for the past month,” Ava says, her voice hesitant but full of pride. “Part-time. I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t want you to feel so burdened to overwork yourself all the time, so…” she trails off, but the meaning is clear.
You stare at the check, stunned. “Ava…”
“I know you’re doing your best, so I should be too. We’re in this together.” She pauses, looking at you with eyes full of sincerity. “You don’t have to do it all alone.”
The weight of it all suddenly hits you. The kindness in her gesture, the fact that she’s thinking about you like this, offering to carry some of the burden. You feel the lump in your throat again, but this time, it’s not from sadness or embarrassment. It’s from an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for your sister.
You blink a few times, and your voice catches in your throat as you look at her. “You don't have to.”
“I know. But I want to. You’ve been carrying so much for so long, and I escaped mom’s house because of you. It’s time I helped, even if it’s just a little.”
You close your eyes for a moment, the tears you’ve been fighting fall again. But this time, they’re different. They’re not just from the pain or frustration. They’re from the relief of knowing that you’re not alone. That you have someone who sees you, who understands, and who wants to ease your load.
It's not a soulmate like you expected. But it is someone who loves you unconditionally. And it's exactly what you needed in this moment to feel like you can get up after being so harshly put down.
“I don’t know what to say,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.
Ava smiles softly and squeezes your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. We’ve got this. Together.”
Ava really is one of a kind. This won't be the last time you're reminded of just how incredible she is. And how immediately you would kill for her.
With Ava’s help, you eat the entire bowl of fruit, make it into a shower, and finally sleep through the night.
Sometimes all you need is your sister.
::
Some might find it strange to know your second job is at a greenhouse, because what's the point? You can't appreciate the colorful flowers (at least, people tell you they're very colorful). But the warm scent of soil and citrus fills the greenhouse air, and you appreciate being able to take care of something living and fragile, like watering the leaves of a fiddle-leaf fig.
Midday sunlight filters through the glass ceiling, casting soft shadows across the aisles of newly potted plants, and for the first time in days, you feel…calm. Not good, but you don't actively feel the need to cry. Progress.
The bell above the entrance chimes.
You glance up, half expecting a regular customer, but your heart drops the second you see him.
Minho.
He’s standing near the entrance, aimless and awkward. He looks completely out of place among the hanging ivies and blooming succulents, his hands shoved into the pockets of his oversized hoodie, eyes darting around like a kid caught stealing.
You pretend you don’t see him, busying yourself with watering the rest of the plants on your aisle. He'll soon leave on his own.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he just…lingers.
Soon enough, one of your coworkers walks over and asks if he needs help with anything.
“I'm looking for ___. Is she here?”
Despite your attempt to telepathically communicate with your coworker, they point Minho in your direction, and he makes his way over to you. As he gets closer, his steps become a bit more hesitant, approaching you without wanting to invade your space or surprise you.
“Hey.”
You don't reply. What could you possibly have to say to him?
“Can we talk?”
Without looking, you spray his shoes with the hose for a few seconds, soaking his feet and the bottom of his jeans.
He looks down and nods. “Yep. Okay. Hear you loud and clear.”
“Really? Cuz if you did, you would have left by now,” you chide, still refusing to look at him directly.
“You're right, but,” he hesitates, chewing on his lower lip. “I need to talk to you.”
“Well, I’m not interested in talking to you. Ever again, actually.”
“Come on, you have to hear me out–”
“I don’t have to do shit,” you scoff, finally turning to face him dead on. “Especially not for you.”
He stutters at your eye contact, but he doesn’t back down. “O-Okay. Fine. But can I at least apologize? You don’t have to forgive me. Just let me say it.”
“And why should I give you the satisfaction of apologizing just to appease the minor tinge of guilt I'm assuming you’re trying to get rid of?”
The words leave your mouth sharper than you intended, but you don’t regret them. Not when your chest still aches every time you replay that night in your head. Not when just looking at him makes the sting of humiliation burn all over again.
Minho flinches slightly, the way someone does when they know they deserve to get hit but are still hoping for a little bit of mercy.
“I’m not trying to get rid of anything,” he says, voice quieter. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I do care. You deserve way more than an apology, but it's the least I can offer. If you’ll let me.”
He just looks at you – really looks at you – trying to figure out if there's still a version of you that might listen.
You exhale through your nose before you turn off the water and drop the hose. “Make it quick.”
Minho steps closer, not too close, but just enough that you can see the regret lining his features, real regret, not whatever cocky smirk he wore at the party.
“I’m sorry for the prank,” he starts. “I know you like Jisung. And when both of your names were pulled, I thought it’d be funny if I switched with him. I figured you’d know it wasn’t him right away, and it’d be this stupid joke that we’d all laugh about later.”
You say nothing, just stare. Just let him sit in it.
He swallows hard. “But when you kissed me, you didn’t stop. You didn’t pull away. I thought – hell, I thought you felt a spark when we touched, like I did. I mean, there's always been this, like, tension between us, you know? I'm not crazy. You've felt it too, right?”
Your silence that follows his question is deafening.
Minho clears his throat and finishes, “But then you said his name, and I realized…you had no idea.” He rubs the back of his neck shamefully. “It was supposed to be a harmless joke. I didn’t expect us to get that…into it. Things just got a little out of control–”
“A little?”
“...a lot. I never should have done that to you. I'm really sorry.”
His apology doesn't do much to make you feel better. Perhaps, there is a small part of you that believes he didn't mean for the kiss to get so intense. But he still intended to embarrass you by switching places with Jisung. He still technically hurt you on purpose.
“Apology not accepted.”
Minho nods, accepting your short words with dignity. “That’s fair. I deserve that.” His voice softens. “But I also need you to know that it wasn’t Jisung’s idea. He was too drunk to even know what was going on. If you’re going to be mad, be mad at me. If you're gonna cut someone out of your life…it should be me. Don’t take it out on Jisung.”
You look away, your throat tightening. “Well, thank you for telling me that. I won't be upset at Jisung.”
And you mean it. Even though his careless question and hurtful humor at the end didn't help, you can accept that he was simply following the crowd and drunkenly playing along. If Jisung had been sober, there's no way he would have let something like that happen.
But Minho was sober. Completely sober.
Another pause. Minho rubs his hands down the side of his jeans nervously. His shoes make a squishy sound when he shifts his weight.
“So…” he says slowly, “can we address the elephant in the room now?”
You glance back at him, frowning. “What are you talking about?”
He looks at you, confused. Then his expression changes into something gentler, quieter. “The color?”
“What color?”
“You don’t…see it?”
“See what?” Your voice drops. “Wait. Do you see color?”
He hesitates. Then nods.
There’s no cocky smile this time, no teasing, no laugh. Just Minho standing in the middle of a jungle of potted plants, looking at you like he’s seeing the sun for the first time. His eyes scan the expanse of your body and the scene around him, blinking softly as if he sees something you don't.
You stare at him, unable to believe what you’re hearing.
Then suddenly, you scoff, sharp and bitter, “Oh my god. Are you serious, right now?”
“What?”
“Really? You’re going to come to my job, give me some fake-ass apology, and then rub it in my face that I can’t see color by pretending you can? Fuck you, man.”
His face falls, the nervousness draining from his expression as it's replaced with panic. “No no no, that's not—”
You grab the hose and turn on your heel to leave. “That’s fucking low, Minho. Even for you.”
He's immediately after you, running past you just to get in front of you and cut you off, forcing you to pause.
“Wait! Wait!” He grabs a flower off the nearby shelf, a daisy. “What color is this?”
You look at it, stunned. “You know what, Minho? I always kind of knew you could be pathetic and cruel. But this is pushing it way too far.”
He blinks, desperation creeping into his voice. “You seriously don’t see it?”
“No! I don't!” you snap, taking heavy steps toward him as he starts to shuffle back. “Because I didn’t kiss my soulmate, remember? That was the whole punchline, right? Let's all laugh at the girl who can't see color! Ha ha ha! Even her younger sister gets a soulmate, but guess what? She doesn't get one because Jisung thinks she's a fucking joke!”
Minho looks down at the flower in his hand, then slowly back at you. “Jisung isn't your soulmate.”
“Let me guess, because you are?”
“Yes.”
Your heart jumps, and not in a good way.
“I’m not seeing everything,” he admits quietly, “but I’m seeing spots. Like little flashes of something. It’s not always there. But sometimes…in certain places…” he glances at your lips, “they get brighter when I’m around you.”
You go still, trying to read his expression for any sign of a joke, a twitch of amusement, a hint of a lie.
But he’s dead serious.
“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. “No, you’re wrong. You’re just seeing things.”
“I’m not,” Minho says, his voice steady, but there's something wounded beneath it. “It’s you. ___, you're my soulmate.”
You step back, refusing to admit he just made your heart skip a beat. “It’s probably just a glitch. The kiss was…a lot. It was intense, I admit. But it didn't mean anything.”
“It meant something to me.”
He steps forward, and the only thing between you being the single daisy he still holds. You look down at it, taking in the blandness of its petals and leaves, then back up at him. And you see it. That glint in his eyes. That almost imperceptible shimmer of hope that you see more than you do.
Something stirs in you too, just beneath your ribs, pulling you toward him. Something undeniable. But you shove it down, hard.
“It’ll go away,” you finally say. “Whatever you’re seeing, it’ll fade. Just give it time.”
Minho doesn’t move. He just watches you, lips parted like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. He lets the silence stretch instead, heavy and thick.
“You really think it’ll just go away?”
You avoid his eyes, crossing your arms instead. “Yeah. Probably. It’s not real. It can’t be. You’re not mine…” you shake your head, “I mean, you’re not my soulmate.”
He looks at you like he wants to argue, but he knows the conversation will only go in circles from here. So, instead he just nods slowly, presses his lips into a line, and places the flower back down on the counter.
“Okay,” he says softly, a step back, and then another. “Sorry for interrupting your work.”
With hands once again deep in his pockets, he heads out the door. If he looks back, you don't see it. You're already speed walking into the back of the greenhouse, hand on your chest as you attempt to withhold a meltdown.
He has some nerve. Showing up here like this, with his stupid little apology and his puppy-dog eyes, acting like he’s some gentleman.
As if his fake remorse is supposed to make everything okay. As if a handful of nice words about being soulmates can erase what he did. And now he’s doubling down on this color nonsense?
Please.
There’s no way he’s seeing color. That’s not how this works. You don’t trick someone, kiss them under false pretenses, humiliate them in front of everyone, and then suddenly get rewarded with color. That’s not just unfair, that’s delusional. Insanity.
And yet…the way he looked at you, the way his voice cracked when he said he wanted to make it right…it hurt a little bit. Maybe because some part of you wanted to believe he was genuine, but still. It felt like ripping open a wound you hadn’t even let close completely.
Just seeing him again brought it all back: the kiss, the heat, the betrayal, the confusion, the embarrassment.
You don't forgive him. Not yet anyway. It's all still too fresh. But you can't deny that you wish he wasn’t lying. You wish it had meant something. Because that would mean all this shit was for something, that you were in pain for an effort. An effort that would eventually reveal color like you've always wanted.
But that’s a dangerous thought to have, especially about someone as inconsiderate and selfish as Minho.
Let him apologize a hundred times. It doesn't change the fact that he took away your chance at a whole new world.
::
Minho slumps onto the couch, tossing his keys onto the coffee table like they burned his hand. His hair is damp from the greenhouse humidity, and he's been thinking way too hard for way too long. He’s surprised smoke hasn't come out of his ears by now.
Jisung peeks up from where he's lying upside down on the other side of the couch, head hanging off the cushion and hair brushing the ground.
“So?” he asks, voice muffled by a lollipop stuck in his cheek. “How’d it go?”
Minho doesn’t answer right away. He sinks lower into the cushions, arms crossed over his chest like armor in front of his heart.
“It was fine.”
“Fine?” Jisung echoes, sitting up on his knees to face his friend. “Like, normal fine? Or, like, ‘I’m actually having an existential crisis’ fine?”
Minho throws him a sideways glare. “She’s still mad at me.”
“Well, yeah,” Jisung says, not unkindly but rather blatantly. “You did trick her into making out with you in front of a whole party. While she was blindfolded. In a soulmate game.”
Minho groans and drags a hand down his face. “Thanks for the recap, bro.”
“I’m just saying, you messed with something really personal, man. Soulmates? That’s not light territory.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, because of how her parents weren't soulmates, but they married anyway, and it totally screwed up her childhood,” he says casually, like this is something everyone knows. “That's why she's always talking about seeing color and finding her soulmate. She's secretly scared of never finding them and repeating her parents’ mistakes. I thought you knew that.”
Minho stiffens. His fingers curl slightly against his thighs as he straightens in his seat. “No,” he says slowly, his voice quieter now. “She said something about her little sister having a soulmate, but I didn’t realize—” he cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair. “Damn.”
Jisung winces. “Oh. That’s gotta sting.”
Minho swallows hard. His thoughts spin with fragments of your voice, your anger, the way your eyes burned when you told him he’s not your soulmate. And he’s not. Not yet, really. Not in the ways that matter.
He knew the prank hurt you, but he thought it was just because it embarrassed you, maybe ruined your crush on Jisung. He didn’t understand that it cut deeper than that. That it reopened an old wound he hadn’t even known existed.
Now, the pieces click into place. Why you were so shaken, why you looked at him like he shattered something irreplaceable. It wasn’t just a prank. It was a betrayal of something you believed in. Something you needed to believe in.
And he was the idiot who turned it into a joke.
Minho leans forward, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands. “I’m such an asshole,” he mutters into his palms.
Jisung pulls his lollipop from his pursed lips and doesn’t argue. He eyes Minho curiously, sensing something heavier under the surface.
There’s a beat of silence between them as his words settle. Minho doesn't take his eyes off the wall, determination and conviction evident in every blink.
Jisung sighs and leans back, thudding his head against the back of the couch. “It's just my luck that I don't remember the night my two best friends found out they're soulmates.”
Minho looks at him. “You really don’t remember anything, huh?”
“Nope. Last thing I remember is handing someone a cup and then waking up with a pack of Twizzlers stuck to my face.” Jisung grins faintly. “I really was blackout drunk. The pictures on my phone from that night are chaotic. Feels like I missed out,” he adds with a light chuckle.
Minho’s gaze drops to his lap. “Don't feel too left out. ___ doesn't think I'm her soulmate because she doesn't see color.”
“But you do.” Jisung says with a wave of his sucker through the air. “How does that make sense?”
Minho shrugs.
“Maybe you didn't kiss her hard enough?”
“Trust me, I kissed her hard enough.”
“Maybe the kiss just wasn't right.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she thought you were me, right? Maybe the kiss didn't work because she didn't realize she was kissing you.”
That thought hadn't crossed his mind yet, but when Jisung says it, it kind of makes sense. Minho sits up a bit, his mind suddenly ready to start thinking of ways to get closer to you again.
“You really think that could be the problem?”
“Possibly.” Jisung shrugs. “Maybe if you kiss her again, and this time she knows it's you, then she'll see color.”
Minho pauses, the air caught somewhere between his lungs and throat. Jisung’s words echo in his head, absurd but not entirely unthinkable.
The memory of the kiss rushes back. Your waist, your breath, your hands, the way your body melted into his like it was instinct. Like it was meant to. Like you were actually going to be his. He can't help but wonder what might have happened if you hadn't said the wrong name, if you knew it was him and still wanted him that badly.
He wants you to want him like that again. He wants you to climb his body with urgency and desperation, and run your fingers through his hair while he kisses down your neck.
“I don’t know,” Minho mutters, gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t think she wants to kiss me ever again, let alone on purpose.”
Jisung snorts. “Yeah, you definitely have your work cut out for that one.”
Minho throws him a flat look. “Thanks, bro. Your support means so much to me.”
“Hey, I’m just saying.” Jisung lifts his hands in mock defense, but his expression softens. “If it really is her and you guys are really soulmates, you owe it to both of you to try again. But, like, not through a prank this time.”
Minho sinks back into the couch, a chuckle deep in his chest. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not,” Jisung says, biting his lollipop and proceeding to chew obnoxiously loudly. “But it might be worth it.”
Minho’s shoulders sag a little. The whole thing is draining him when he thought color was supposed to make his life better. He can't even fully enjoy all the wonderful new things he can see, because you can't see them with him. And that sucks the joy out of it all.
He needs to kiss you again. This time truthfully.
::
You slide your apron over your head and clock in, trying to ignore the lingering ache behind your eyes from another night of restless sleep. The familiar scent of garlic oil, soy broth, and fresh green onions swirls around you like a comfort blanket – but unfortunately, it’s not enough to keep your stomach from tightening every time you serve spicy vegan ramen. With an egg.
Any energy or effort you had planned to put into your shift today is long gone. You're so tired. All you have left is a fake smile, montoned scripted service, and aching feet. The emotional drainage that you've experienced over the last week has only proved to drain you physically and mentally as well. Every step is heavy, and every minute feels like a year off your life.
You glance toward the entrance when the chimes indicate a new customer is here. And suddenly, your stomach is churning for a different reason.
He strolls in like he owns the place, wearing that same ripped t-shirt and smug expression you remember from the worst night of your life. Immediately, his eyes land on you, because where else would they go?
Someone remind you how this guy suddenly magically knows your work schedule?
You walk to the hostess stand, pop your hip, and narrow your eyes at him. “What are you doing here, Minho?”
“Just came for some ramen,” he replies casually.
“Well, there’s another ramen bar down the street. Go to that one.”
Before he can respond, Jaq pokes his head out from the kitchen and hisses your name. He gives you a threatening snare and waves for you to hurry up and seat the new customer. The one time this douchebag decides to actually do his job as manager. Inconvenient and unbelievable.
You force your lips into a thin, tight smile and grab a menu. “Right this way.”
He follows you to a corner booth, sliding into the seat like this was his plan all along. You plop the menu down in front of him, a little harder than necessary.
“Sprite?”
“You got Sierra Mist?” he asks in a humorous tone.
But then he notices something.
The heavy sag of your shoulders, the tightness in your eyes, the way you rub the back of your neck like it's carrying the weight of too many things no one else can see. There's a weariness in your expression that wasn’t there before. Like you’ve been running on empty for a while, but still keep moving because no one’s gonna offer to pick things up if you drop them.
His playful smile falters. He was prepared for a witty comeback, a sarcastic jab, maybe even an argument—but not this. Not the quiet exhaustion in your face. It hits him in a place he can’t quite name.
“No, we have Coke products.”
He doesn’t reply right away. Just watches you for a moment too long.
And then, something shifts in him.
A quiet sense of responsibility settles over his chest. Not heavy like guilt, but something persistent, like gravity. He doesn’t know what to say or do, not really. He’s not good with comfort. Not the soft kind. Not the real kind. But he knows that he wants to help. That maybe, somehow, it’s his job to make you feel a little less heavy. Even if just for a moment.
He straightens in his seat, abandoning whatever dumb remark he had ready.
“You look tired,” he says softly, not as an observation, but as a quiet acknowledgement.
“Long day.” Your reply is short, uninterested and unentertained. “So, Sprite?”
“Yeah, thank you,” he smiles kindly.
His politeness is infuriating. Hot flames of fury ignite in your chest, burning upward into your throat and head, behind your eyes, morphing into an immediate headache. It appears he's trying to make up for the last time he was here and treated you like shit. Perhaps another attempt at an apology, but you're anything but impressed.
You walk away without a word, collect his Sprite from the soda fountain, and return with your notepad to take his order.
“What can I get you?”
He leans back, resting one arm on the booth. “What about today made it long?”
“I’m working a double today,” you answer flatly. “What can I get you?”
“Oh man, that's gotta be a hard day for sure. Did someone call out so you're covering?”
“No.” You arch an eyebrow. “I'm working a double to help make up for the time off I took last weekend. Now, what can I get you?”
“Did you not have any paid time off you could have used? Do you have to work a double tomorrow too?”
You close your notepad with a snap, place both hands firmly on the table, and lean in close. Your eyes narrow, scanning his face with the precision of someone trying to spot a lie before it's spoken. “Alright. What’s your angle, Minho?”
He blinks up at you, all innocence. “My angle?”
“Don’t play dumb. What are you really doing here?”
“Eating ramen…” he says slowly, as if the words taste foreign on his tongue, eyes wide and doe-like.
You scoff. “Don’t insult me. I may be hurt, but I’m not stupid.”
His expression softens just enough for sincerity to show through. “I wanna talk to you,” he admits, voice low. “About the kiss.”
Your breath catches in your chest. Without a word, you turn on your heel, ready to disappear into the kitchen and pretend he never showed up, but his hand catches yours. A grip that's not rough, but there’s a firmness in his fingers. A quiet insistence.
“I was thinking about it and—”
You cut him off with a pointed look. “Do you need me to spell it out with ramen noodles? I don’t want to talk about it. Now, let me go.”
He loosens his grip slowly, until you can snatch your hand away, quickly speaking up before you try to walk away again. “We have to talk about it eventually, don't you think?”
“Why?”
“Because we’re soulmates.”
After you mentally shove away whatever heart fluttering feelings that little declaration evoked from within your chest, you roll your eyes. “You can’t possibly know that—”
“You have light hair.”
“…What?”
“And dark eyes. And I think your favorite color would be blue.”
“Why blue?” you ask, despite yourself.
A small smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. “Because I look good in blue.”
“Oh my god,” you mutter, a disbelieving laugh punching out of you. “You cheeky little—”
“Five minutes.” His voice is calm, but it cuts through the noise of the restaurant. “Please. I know I'm asking for way more than I deserve. But just give me five minutes.”
“I don’t get off for another four hours.”
Minho leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest with all the determination of someone who just settled in for the long haul.
You squint at him. “You’re seriously going to wait four hours for five minutes of my time?”
He lifts a shoulder in a shrug, lips turning down as if four hours is nothing in the grand scheme of talking to you. “If that’s what it takes.”
“If you’re not eating, you have to leave so I can use the table for someone else.”
Minho obediently picks up the laminated menu from the tabletop and flips to the page with house favorite ramen, picking out a choice within a few seconds. You roll your eyes and walk away, heading back toward the kitchen to put in his first order – classic chicken ramen.
There’s no way he’s actually staying. Four hours? No one has that kind of endurance. Or appetite.
But as your shift ticks on, hour by hour, your disbelief begins to waver.
You steal a glance toward the back corner of the dining room where Minho is camped out. He’s hunched over his fourth bowl, wiping his mouth with a napkin and reaching for his water with a look of grim determination. You check the time. Two hours left. Four bowls down.
You retreat to the kitchen counter, where Felix is leaning against the sink, idly polishing a glass.
“I can’t believe he’s actually still here,” you mutter, crossing your arms as you watch Minho sit up straighter and stretch his shoulders out like a man training for a marathon.
Felix follows your gaze and hums thoughtfully. “Can’t say he’s not determined.”
“He’s ridiculous.”
Right on cue, Minho looks up and catches you staring. His face brightens instantly like a kid caught doing something he’s proud of. He perks up, sits up straighter, and gestures to his bowl like he’s won a prize. Then, as if to further prove a point, he drags his spoon along the inside rim to scrape out the very last drop of broth. Then he puts his fist to his mouth and burps so loud you hear it across the room.
You squint, equal parts impressed and concerned. How is he not totally sick by now?
“He can’t last much longer,” you mumble to yourself.
Felix glances at you, brow raised. “I know that face. What are you thinking?”
“Felix, make me a bowl of spicy vegan ramen. Extra spicy.”
He pauses, cautious. “Uh…how spicy?”
“Extra extra spicy. Chili oil. Jalapeños. Ghost pepper paste if we’ve got it.”
Felix winces. “You’re evil. I like it.”
Ten minutes later, the kitchen window buzzes, and Felix slides out a bowl so intense it practically radiates heat. The broth gleams with a slick shine, puddles of oil shimmering on the surface. Stray chili flakes drift like warning signs, and a mountain of jalapeños piled on top releases a sharp, tangy sting into the air. Just standing near it makes your throat itch and your eyes water. It doesn’t just look spicy, it looks dangerous..
You grab the bowl with a sweet smile and walk it over to Minho’s table.
He blinks up at you in surprise. “I didn’t order this one.”
“It’s on the house,” you say, setting it in front of him with a grin that doesn’t reach your eyes. “A thank you for your loyalty… and your love for our ramen.”
He hesitates, a little thrown. “Oh, um… thank you. But I was gonna go light next. Maybe just some rice balls or—”
“I put an egg in it,” you interrupt, folding your arms in pre-celebrated victory. “Just for you.”
He leans forward, inhales—and jerks back immediately, coughing into his elbow as the spice hits his nose like a punch.
You stand your ground. You’re not leaving. Not until he takes a bite and runs away.
Minho looks at you. Then at the bowl. Then back at you. With a quiet sigh, he picks up his chopsticks and swirls a first bite around the ends before bringing it to his lips with a loud slurp.
The reaction is immediate. His eyes water, his lips parting to pant as he chews. His nose begins to run. Sweat dots his forehead. You watch him grimace, but he doesn’t stop. Not even when he needs a napkin. Not even when he’s clearly dying.
“Good?” you ask with a thumbs up.
Minho manages to match your gesture before he's clawing at his water glass and tossing it back like there's no tomorrow.
Although you would love to stick around and watch the moment when he ultimately quits, you get pulled away when the front door opens, a new wave of customers arriving.
Throughout the next half hour, you keep glancing at Minho between tables, expecting to see him slumped over or crawling to the door or just already gone.
Instead, you return just in time to see him wipe his mouth, push the empty bowl away, and lean back with the tired posture of a man who’s been through war.
A few minutes later, he quietly disappears into the bathroom.
One of your coworkers approaches his table with a tray, ready to clear it. “Is this guy finally done? He’s been here forever.”
Before you can think twice, your hand slams onto the table, loud, sudden, and startling enough to make both of you jump. You plant your arm across the tray’s path, blocking her from touching a single dish.
“He’s not done,” you say, breath catching like even you’re surprised by how fast you moved. “He’s just in the bathroom.”
She blinks. “Still? How much more can he possibly eat?”
“I don’t know. Just leave it.” You pull your arm back slowly, trying to act like it was no big deal. But it is. “I'll clear it when he's done.”
“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes and walks away.
You’re not ready for him to leave. Not yet. Some stupid part of you wants to see if he’ll make it to the end of your shift. If he really meant it when he said he would wait for you.
Minho reemerges a while later, moving slower than usual. His face is pale, his steps tentative, but when he sees you, he tries to straighten up and look presentable. Like he’s not completely wrecked from the past four hours of food torture.
You meet him at his table.
“The shop’s closing soon,” you say quietly. “There’s a bench outside to the right. Wait there for me?”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Yeah. Of course!”
You watch him through the window as he exits, finds the bench, and sits down. It almost seems as though he might fall asleep. But still, he waits.
When your shift ends, you lock the door behind you and step outside into the night air. Minho sits up the second he sees you, brushing invisible lint from his pants like he’s trying to clean up for you.
You stop in front of him and cross your arms, both annoyed and begrudgingly impressed.
“Five minutes?” he asks, hopeful and breathless.
“You earned them.”
You sit down beside him on the bench, the night air cool against your skin, the streetlamp overhead humming quietly as it spills light around you both. There's a stretch of silence, just long enough to make your heart race a little before he finally speaks.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says, eyes fixed on the sidewalk ahead. “And maybe the reason you can’t see color is because you thought you were kissing someone else.”
You don’t flinch at the accusation. Actually, the more you think about it the more it makes sense. Yeah, you can see how somebody who found themselves stuck in their own head could come to that kind of conclusion. Perhaps Minho has been giving this a bit more thought than you anticipated.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it too,” you reply, not unaware of the way he eagerly shifts to be just an inch closer. “And maybe the reason I can’t see color…is because I don’t have a soulmate.”
That hits something deeper than he was expected. He turns his head just slightly, but you still catch it. The way his expression flickers, like your words hurt to hear. But even so, he doesn’t back down.
“That’s not true,” he says quietly. “I’m your soulmate.”
“Minho,” you murmur, turning to face him fully now. “Look at me. I’m honored that you ate five massive bowls of ramen and waited four hours just to have a five minute conversation with me. I’ll admit, that was…pretty romantic. Gross, but romantic.”
His mouth twitches, eye brows bouncing almost humorously.
“But we’re not soulmates,” you continue. “We don’t even like each other.”
“I do like you,” he corrects, a bit too eager to be lying. “I've liked you for a long time actually.”
You shake your head. “No, you don’t. You liked kissing me for whatever reason. But you don’t like me. You don’t even know me that well.”
He opens his mouth like he’s ready to argue, but the words die in his throat. You see it in his eyes, that flicker of realization. He didn’t know about your parents. He never asked. Never even tried.
A breath passes between you.
“Then let me get to know you,” he says finally, voice low and careful.
“Minho…”
“I’m serious,” he presses, leaning forward to earn your eye contact back. His voice dips into something softer, more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard from him. “Let me take you out. Learn about you. Talk to you. Listen to you. I want to.”
But the hurt from before still lingers in your chest. It keeps you from falling too far into his eyes, from giving into that hopeless romantic part of you that wants to be swept off her feet.
You should say no. It’d be smarter, safer. But for some reason, here under the quietness of night, in the dim light of a street lamp, with Minho absolutely lost in your eyes as if hypnotized, you remember how it felt to be kissed like you mattered. What it felt like to be held by his hands, to be under him.
Your defenses waiver.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say, but even to your own ears, it lacks conviction.
“Why not?” he asks gently. “Are you scared to let someone get to know you?”
Your lips part, then close again. And finally, you nod once. “Yeah. I am.”
“Three dates,” he suggests, holding up three fingers. “That’s all I’m asking. Just three. And if by the end, you’re still not convinced we’re soulmates, I’ll drop it. I won’t bug you anymore. I swear.”
You study him carefully. The boy who once tormented you for fun now looks at you like you’re the only thing in focus. Like you're the only thing in the world that could possibly matter. And suddenly, you realize…
You don't recognize him. At least, you don't recognize this Minho. There's something different, something has changed about him. His eyes aren't the same, his body language doesn't say the same things, even the timbre of his voice sounds so much softer and deeper. It reaches farther inside your chest than you were ready for.
“Fine,” you say at last, crossing your arms. “If it’ll shut you up. Three dates.”
His grin is immediate, like you just handed him the universe.
“And one more kiss,” he adds.
“Excuse me?”
“To be sure,” he says with exaggerated innocence, eyes twinkling as they flicker to your lips. “For science.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes to mask any shyness you feel. “Alright. Three dates and one kiss. And then you leave me alone.”
He extends his hand to seal the deal.
You shake it, fully convinced you’ll be unaffected by the end of it. That this is just an experiment. A distraction. Something to get him off your case.
But as soon as your hand leaves his, and your fingers drift back to your side, your stomach flips – traitorous and fluttery – and you’re not totally sure you're gonna be okay by the end of this.
Warnings(?) : Mischaracterization of skz, reader's birthday is forgotten ☹️, reader is shy/nervous, stress, tension, reader tries brushing off her feelings, reader is turned down a lot, feelings of loneliness, not a warning but STAY is actually rlly sweet in this one 🥹, nicknames such as "dummy" (in a joking manner obvi), fluffy interactions between reader and her parents <3
A/N (Author's Note) : idc if ppl call it main character syndrome i love writing y/n as a shy and sensitive person. y/n is me i am y/n. this is the first part since idrk what else to write rn and i wanna post smth 🥹 never done parts to a fic before but yayayay ig this is the first time! y'all PLEASE tell me what you want to see in the next part!!! in the comments, in asks, idc!! let me know!!!!! i wanna know what you guys wanna read! :)
Thank you so much for your request, anon! I hope this fulfills it! 🫶🏻
Based on this request!!!
Part 1 (you're here! ♡) | Part 2 (wip)
The fic begins below the squiggly line! Enjoy! <3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As soon as your alarm went off, you knew it would be a good day.
You had been waiting for this day all year. Seeing and being there for the boys' birthday lives had really gotten you worked up. You never made their birthday lives about yourself, obviously. It was their day, not yours.
But who doesn't get excited for their birthday? It's the one day that's all about them! It's the day that they receive gifts and are acknowledged and appreciated and posted all over social media. It's the one time that no one is allowed to ruin your moment and shift the attention to themselves.
Yeah. Long story short, you were excited. More than excited. You were ecstatic.
You had even planned out a trip to your favorite local bakery to celebrate with the boys. You picked out a comfy outfit for the day, as well as a color theme for your birthday live.
It was a cute beige theme with some silver and gold to represent your skzoo, the gazelle. You had earned it due to your agility and speed, both athletically and in terms of choreography and overall stage performance. Everyone, including you, decided it was perfect.
The main thing you were looking forward to wasn't presents or cake, though.
You were really looking forward to the recognition and affection you'd receive from the boys. That was one of your only concerns with any holidays. Your birthday was always a bit special, though. You wanted to spend time with the ones you loved most, which was your family.
Although you still had a good relationship with your parents, you were an only child. You had considered the boys your family for years now. You saw them as your older brothers, and they saw you as their younger sister. You all were really close, after all. Family isn't always by blood.
But there was one problem.
Lately, everyone had been super busy. Staff had tried opening up more opportunities for performances, and it flooded you and the boys with so much practice and planning that you all could barely remember to take care of yourselves. Chan didn't really try to fight it, either. He was all about work. He had probably one of the best work ethics you had seen, but it made you worry a lot of the time, too. Even when he was resting, he'd talk about how he could be working instead.
But in the past, your birthday had landed on some busy weeks, and no one forgot. Everyone's birthdays were always busy. You nine were literally K-pop stars; of course, you'd all be busy year-round.
You told yourself that it was irrational to think that the boys would forget, though. Even on the busiest weeks, nobody's birthday had been forgotten yet.
You reassured yourself with positive affirmations as you got out of bed, heading to the bathroom attached to your bedroom. You took a shower, using your favorite scented body washes. Usually, you'd be quicker and use common or unscented products. Today was special, though! If you wanted to smell like coconut and summer or strawberry cheesecake, you had every right!
You got out and dried off, putting on that comfy and movable outfit for practice.
You were officially 23! You made it another year!
You excitedly checked your phone for any new notifications. Maybe one of the boys, or all of them, had texted you.
But when you checked your phone, there were no new notifications from any of them. You had a lot from Twitter, which you checked. A lot of STAYs were wishing you a happy birthday, and it made you smile warmly.
You were about to reply to one of the posts, but Jeongin texted you and asked where you were, so you quickly closed the app and put your phone in your pocket, hurrying to the company building.
You had forgotten that you still had practice today. You honestly would've thought that since it was your birthday, everyone could get a little time off before and after practice. It was still fairly early, so maybe everyone had just forgotten. No big deal! Practice would only take a few hours, as usual. You'd still be able to go to your favorite bakery and get some treats to share with them!
But when you stepped into the practice room, you noticed that everyone already looked annoyed with today.
Maybe something had happened just now that you had barely missed?
You weren't scared or intimidated by any of them, but you were still able to read the room. So, you kept your mouth shut. Maybe right now wasn't the best time to ask.
"You were almost late, Y/Nnie. Thought we'd have to start without you," Chan greeted you with a soft smile, yawning.
Everyone still wanted to be asleep, but a career is a career. Sacrifices had to be made, and sometimes, extra sleep was one of them. Everything had been piling on more and more lately.
"Don't worry. I know you all just missed me because I'm so awesome. I get it," you joked, which made Han, who was originally staring off into space, laugh softly and mock you playfully.
You thought it would just be a normal day. Practice for a few hours, and then be done by around 2 P.M., or 3 at the latest. You'd all still have time to spend together. It'd be a good day, even if you wished you just didn't have to practice at all. A comeback was soon, though, and a lot of the songs still needed some experimenting before they were fully decided.
Practice started off light. The choreography was pretty simple. It felt kind of like a warm-up, honestly.
The first hour passed quicker than you realized. Despite everyone making a few small mistakes on each take, it was pretty smooth. You all were just getting the hang of it.
Chan made a few corrections, telling each member what they needed to work on, and you all nodded.
You all did take after take. Eventually, during the second hour, you all were allowed a short 5-minute break. You all were getting a bit more adjusted, as this dance was more fast-paced than usual. It wasn't exactly difficult, but it would definitely take a little bit to get it down, especially since it had more synchronized moves as well.
Hyunjin sat down, head leaned back against the wall as he groaned dramatically, claiming Chan was trying to kill him.
"Actually, no. Not just me. You're trying to kill all of us," he added on before taking a swig from his water bottle.
"Drama queen," you muttered, flicking him in the forehead while taking a swig from your own bottle.
"Hey! I'm actually a king, thank you very much," he immediately piped up.
"Calm down, princess," you replied, giggling when you saw his expression.
"This is bullying. I'm reporting you to staff," he whined before standing up.
You followed after, quickly getting up and going back over beside Seungmin for the choreography again.
It was currently 9:30, and you knew that although it would be a long practice full of nothing but dancing and maybe some vocalization training as well, it would still be a good day. You guys didn't have any meetings or interviews or anything else of the sorts scheduled today, so you all could get a little bit of rest once practice was over.
The business practically stripped everyone of any other thought, though. Everyone was focused on one thing: get the music done. Music wasn't just words, either. Music was art. You had to look and feel alive for it, and most of the time, that came through the form of dancing.
It was worth it, though. STAY deserved it. After all of the years of both rough and soft moments, STAY had grown with you guys. They deserved new songs published on a regular basis, even if it meant more work for you guys. You guys would rest... eventually.
You were used to comebacks. They were chaotic, they were busy, they were tiring, and they were a lot of work. But it was worth it. When you went online and saw the way STAY blew up for a week straight over a new album, it reminded you why you did this for a living.
The hours passed by, and everyone got more and more tired. You all were used to performing, but dancing for hours on end with few breaks would tire anyone out.
Nothing too interesting happened during practice. Sure, there was some playful bickering the entire time, but that was normal. You guys had to do something to pass the time.
But for some reason, you noticed that even when it fell quiet, no one said anything to you. It wasn't that they were ignoring you or being rude, but it was 12 now, and you hadn't received a "happy birthday" from any of them.
You tried to brush it off, though. They were just focused. There were still 3 hours of practice, after all. Everyone was trying to just get it over with.
Those 3 hours went by quickly enough, and you tried to think of something to do. Seems dumb to want to do more stuff right after dancing for hours on end, but you just wanted to hang out with the boys in some sort of way.
So, you asked if they wanted to grab a coffee. You even offered to pay. You just wanted to spend time any way you could. Everyone had been extremely busy lately, and you guys hadn't really even had a moment to breathe, let alone be together except for practice. You knew that once the comeback progressed, practice would go from 6 hours to 12, easily.
Felix was about to reply, but Chan had that look on his face. He had the look that screamed that he was up to something. So, Felix stopped and listened, as did everyone else.
"You're all gonna hate me, but we have to finish some lines, too," he mumbled.
Everyone let out a collective groan. No one was really annoyed, though. You all just wanted some free time. Practice had been going on for hours now.
But you still had to get a playful jab in when you could, so you did.
"Just say you hate me," you complained, to which he apologized while laughing to try and break some of the tension and exhaustion in the room.
Okay, well... this wasn't looking so good. It was already 3 in the afternoon, and going over lines and practicing vocals and certain pitches and notes could take anywhere from 1 hour to another 3. It all depended on how much effort and editing had to be done to everyone's voices. Sometimes yours took 30 minutes. Sometimes, they took 2 hours.
But you couldn't just leave, even if that was all you wanted to do at the moment. You had a few lines, and you already knew Chan was always serious about everything being perfect. You didn't blame him, but it did usually take more time.
You still pushed through, though. You had to keep redoing your lines. One second, you were doing perfect, and the next, your voice cracked. Then, your voice pitched, and it wasn't the admirable, high note reaching type. You almost facepalmed when you replayed it and heard the way you practically squeaked as your voice betrayed you.
By the time practice was over, it was roughly 4:45. Not too bad, honestly, especially with how much you all had covered.
Most of the day was already spent, and everyone was tired and sweaty by now, but you still wanted to spend time with them. There was a café only a few streets away, and you all could walk there.
You found it weird that no one had said anything to you, though. You didn't want to pressure them or anything, but if you were being honest, it was starting to hurt a bit. Every time it was their birthday, you always made sure to say it to them as soon as you saw them. Now, when it was your turn, it seemed like everyone had forgotten.
So, you tried to remind them. Maybe if you kept hinting that you wanted to hang out, they would remember.
You approached Hyunjin and Han, knowing that they were usually down to go get coffee.
Han looked over as he was finishing his water bottle.
"Hi, Y/Nnie," he said with a smile.
"Hey," you began, smiling softly back at him. "Do you and Hyunjin wanna go get some coffee with me? Maybe we can invite the others too?"
Han looked at Hyunjin for just a second, his cheery expression faltered.
"Ah... Y/Nnie, we're sorry, but, uhm..." Han began, trailing off.
"We planned on going to the gym after practice with Changbin. I think Innie wanted to come along, too. We can make some room for you if you want," Hyunjin finished Han's words for him.
At least he offered you the opportunity to go out.
You weren't trying to be picky. You really weren't. But it was just that you were already used to going to the gym with all of them. It wasn't their fault for wanting to go work out, but today was special. You wanted something a little more than just the gym.
"Ohhh, okay. I gotcha," you started off. "Uhm, no thanks. Don't worry about it. Sorry, I'm not trying to be difficult. I just-"
"It's okay, Y/Nnie. We go a lot. You don't have to explain yourself. Sometimes you just don't wanna go," Hyunjin interrupted, knowing that you often tried to make up excuses for not wanting to do something.
It was a bad habit of yours before you even met them. You had always been a people pleaser, which often meant that if you didn't want to do something, you tried to come up with an excuse. You knew it was bad to lie, but you always felt guilty simply for turning something or someone down.
You nodded, an awkward smile paired with it.
Well, you were gonna actually explain why, but... nevermind. It's fine. Even though half of the group was busy, the other half may not have anything to do.
Felix always hung out with you! Maybe you could ask him instead!
He was already gone, though. So was Seungmin. They had probably both headed to their dorm to freshen up.
Alright... no big deal! Chan was still here, and Minho was-
Well... not here. He had literally just walked out as you were walking over to Chan. He probably wanted to take a shower after sweating all day. You didn't blame him.
But Chan was still here! Why not ask him?
Chan was always really gentle and caring towards you. He was towards everyone, but he was always just a little softer on you since you were the youngest. Maybe you could use that to your advantage this time..? He usually lets you get away with just a bit more anyway!
So, you walked over to him, your practice bag still swaying by your side.
You tapped him as he was just about to leave, and he turned around, letting out a soft hum in response.
"Hi Channie," you said, slightly dragging out his name at the end.
He smiled warmly. You used to do that a lot when you were younger. You'd drag his name out when you wanted something, such as a schedule request or more information that you weren't really supposed to have. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn't.
"What do you want?" he asked, smile never changing as he set his bag down.
You paused for a second as he stared at you, waiting for your response.
You began wondering if he was busy. What if he was? You knew he was already stressed enough with how much he worked.
But you weren't about to just waste his time. It was better to ask instead of assuming. Maybe he had a bit of spare time today.
"Do you wanna go get a coffee with me? Or go on a walk or something? It's pretty nice outside, and there's a café a few blocks away from here and the dorms. We can just walk there," you offered.
That was when his smile changed just a bit.
"Oh, uhm- ahah, so-" he began, stammering slightly.
You knew he was about to turn you down. He was just trying to find the words to make it seem like he wasn't. You knew how he was. He was just like you. It was why you two got along so well. He never wanted to hurt anyone's feelings unless it was in a playful way, which even then, he was careful about.
"If you're busy, it's fine. Just thought I'd ask," you said with a shrug, trying to seem unbothered.
"I am, but it's just- I don't know. I feel bad saying no. We've been so busy lately, and we haven't been able to really spend any time together except for practice, you know? I don't want you thinking I'm just trying to ignore you," he explained.
He began rambling, though. Gosh, you two really did have a lot in common.
So, you stopped him before he began blaming himself, which he seemed like he was already jumping into.
"Chan, it's fine, seriously. That's why I asked. You're allowed to say no. It's okay," you said with a soft chuckle.
"I know, but I just feel bad doing that. I have some things to work on on my laptop. You know, files, editing... all that fun stuff," he continued, sarcasm in his tone during the last few words.
You just smiled.
"Yeah, I get it. I'm just gonna go back to my dorm. Bye, Channie," you mumbled.
He said goodbye to you as well before you turned and walked out, your bag thrown over your shoulder.
Okay... well, that didn't go as planned.
You decided that when you got back to your dorm, you'd just take a shower and then see if you still had some time.
It was a bit late already, though. It was 4:50 now, only 10 minutes until 5:00.
The walk to your dorm was quiet as you checked your phone for any new notifications.
You had a few texts from your parents. You opened your messages and smiled as you read them. They were full of sweet words and wishes. They even offered to take you out to dinner if you had any free time tonight since you didn't have a curfew.
You texted back, telling them that you would love to go to dinner, but wanted to wait and see if the guys wanted to hang out first. If they were all busy, then you'd go with them instead. You'd always had a good relationship with your parents. They were always there for you and tried to make you feel better. You never really felt alone because of them. Any time you did, you would just text them. They'd always comfort you.
You quickly got inside your dorm, put your hair up, and took another long, hot shower, using your favorite products yet again.
When you got out and dried off, you changed into that cute outfit you had picked earlier. You wanted to do the birthday live later tonight, but you thought it wouldn't hurt to look cute for a couple extra hours.
You waited for another 10 minutes, scrolling on social media and smiling as you saw all of the birthday wishes from STAY. You even replied to a few of them with heart emojis and smiles, thanking them for all the support they gave you and the boys constantly.
Then, you decided to see if the boys were busy that way you could text your parents back.
You texted Minho first.
'heyyy'
'Minho :) 🐇 : Hii'
'do you wanna go get some coffee with me or smth? like hang out idk'
'Minho :) 🐇 : Sorry Y/N but I'm cleaning right now. I haven't really had time to do anything lately, and Han's not here right now so I kinda wanna just get it done while I have some alone time.'
'Minho :) 🐇 : Maybe another time?'
'oh yeah sure!!'
'Minho :) 🐇 : Again, sorry'
'don't apologize :) it's okay! cleaning calms you down. you need to relax anyways. have fun! love you!!'
'Minho :) 🐇 : I love you too Y/Nnie. Thank you'
You only had two more people to ask.
Why was everyone suddenly so busy?
You understood, but... at the same time, why? Why couldn't anyone spare at least a little time?
Had they actually forgotten?
There was no way. They had never forgotten your birthday before, ever! Why would they now?
You decided to wait a bit. Maybe if you asked to do something other than go out, they would accept it? Maybe they just didn't want to go out in public right now. You understood that.
So, you changed your plans. Maybe you could get something and invite Felix and Seungmin over for some and save some for the others.
That sounded like a better plan, honestly. Maybe going out just wasn't the move today.
You began wondering if you should have just waited for a bit before asking Felix and Seungmin.
They had only been in their dorms for 30 to 40 minutes.
Were you being too pushy? You weren't trying to take all of the attention, but it was your day. You weren't trying to be selfish or overly sensitive, but you felt forgotten. No one had even said anything to you today. Sure, you all joked around during practice today, but no birthday wishes or anything.
Your thoughts began overwhelming you, so you decided to just put your phone down and follow after Lee Know's habit: stress cleaning. Maybe if you tidied up for 30 minutes, you would feel like you had waited long enough to ask someone else to hang out.
You didn't want to push them too far. They were probably still tired.
But daylight was running out. The sun was still up, but it was 5:30. It was beginning to turn into evening.
Still, you pushed that thought down and began tidying up anything that looked out of place. You even rearranged your room a little.
When around 30 minutes passed, you decided to ask. At least they had had some time to relax by now.
You decided to text Seungmin first.
'minnie'
'hey minnie'
You gave him a minute to answer. Usually, when you double texted, he'd answer pretty quickly.
That minute passed. No answer. So, you texted again.
'minnieeee'
Another minute went by. No response.
So, you tried one last text. Maybe it would catch his attention.
'don't ignore me on my birthday ☹️'
Still, after 30 seconds, no answer.
Maybe you could text Felix instead.
'felixxx'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : hi y/nnie :)'
'oh my gosh you actually answered lol. i tried texting seungmin but he wasn't answering for like 3 minutes'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : 3 minutes was all it took?'
'you know i'm impatient :('
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : he's cleaning right now lol. he has his notifications silenced so he can listen to music'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : you're not the only one he's blocking out trust me'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : 😞'
'oh wow you guys are cleaning too? i texted minho earlier and he was also cleaning lol. what a coincidence'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : yeah we've been neglecting our dorm... and our laundry...... so guess what i'm doing rn :D'
'awww poor lix :( at least you'll have clean clothes tho yayayay!!'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : yesyes a very sad day indeed'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : anyways what did you need us for? since yk you were trying to get ahold of seungmin earlier too'
'oh right lol oops'
'well i wanted to know if you wanted to come over to my dorm and hang out'
'maybe share some cake or something? perchance??? 🥹'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : sigh i would love to but i'm stuck doing laundry right now and i kinda wanna get it done tonight'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : sorry y/nnie. do you want me to come over tomorrow after practice instead?'
'oh'
'no it's fine haha'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : are you sure?'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : you're typing a little weird now. is something going on?'
'nothing i just feel alone. i miss you guys'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : aww just as clingy as always'
'be quiet'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : we saw each other at practice today did we not? lol'
'yeah but i just wanted to spend some extra time with all of you today'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : why? because we've all been busy lately?'
'well yeah but also because today's special'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : oh yeah?'
'do you actually not know?'
He didn't answer for a few long seconds. You knew that he was probably staring at his screen in confusion while thinking about what he could be missing.
And honestly, picturing that made your heart break just a little bit. Not for him, but for yourself.
'wait did you actually forget? did everyone else forget too?'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : forget what y/nnie? i'm not trying to be mean but i'm not grasping the concept here'
'oh'
'alr'
'nvm then'
'go back to your laundry then felix it's fine if you don't remember, honestly'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : wait nonono pls im sorry what did i say? i didn't mean to be rude'
'Lixie 🫂🤞 <3 : y/nnie please im sorry i didn't mean to do anything to hurt you'
'it's alright. i'm just being overdramatic'
And as soon as he began typing, you dropped the bomb.
'just thought you guys would remember my birthday. everyone's suddenly so busy today lol. i kinda just wanted someone to at least remember'
His text bubble disappeared, and then appeared again. Then, it disappeared again.
He didn't answer after that.
As much as that hurt, at least you had an answer for your parents now. It was still light enough outside to enjoy dinner with them. At least you had them.
You called your parents and told them you were free, so they made arrangements for the restaurant. It was only around 20 minutes away.
5 minutes went by, and you decided to leave early to go meet up with your parents. They didn't live that far outside of Seoul.
It was only a 20 minute walk, so you decided to just take it. It was nice outside anyway. The sun was warm and comforting, and there weren't as many people out as usual.
You had only walked 2 minutes before you received a text.
It was from... Chan?
You still paid attention to your surroundings, but you opened your messages, clicking on the new text he had sent you.
'Channie 🫶🏻 : Y/N, I'm so so sorry. We're all so sorry'
But before you could reply, he sent more. He was typing pretty quickly, as if he were panicked in a way.
'Channie 🫶🏻 : I don't know how we just let it slip our minds like that. I should have known something was up when you kept asking everyone if they wanted to hang out after practice'
'Channie 🫶🏻 : I should have known from the moment you offered to go out for coffee. You even offered to pay. You never do that'
'Channie 🫶🏻 : I'm so sorry Y/Nnie. I'm such an idiot'
'Channie 🫶🏻 : Can I come over? Do you still wanna go grab that coffee? Do you just want to hang out?'
You texted back, heart racing a bit.
'you're busy channie it's okay. i understand, really. and thank you for the offer, but i'm okay. i'm gonna meet up with my parents for some dinner'
'they offered it if none of you guys were up to hanging out, and everyone seemed busy, so'
And just like Felix, his text bubble stuttered as well.
You shut your phone off, putting it back in your pocket. It was only 5:50, 10 minutes until 6. You'd get to the restaurant at around 6:05 or a little later.
Well, at least your parents would be there.
At least they would say something to you.
At least they would make you think...
Happy birthday to me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
lowkey felt kinda lonely so i decided to write this lol. got bored and sad at 12 A.M. and saw the perfect request so 🥹🤞 yayay
this isn't proofread so i'm sorry if this is booty guys forgive me pls
pls let me know what you guys want to see in the next part!!! i can try to publish it within the next few days :) been feeling much more motivated to write lately <3
thank you soso much for reading, and i hope you enjoyed this first part!!!
STRAY KIDS HYBRIDS AU : OT8 STRAYKIDS X HYBRID RAGDOLL CAT FEM READER
Summary : Hybrids is well known to public, and in the entertainment industry, idols owning hybrids wasn’t unusual. Stray Kids have one, a pure ragdoll cat hybrid. Not as a pet, but more like a family, A Pack for her.
Pairing : Stray Kids OT8 x F!Reader
Tags : Angst ( I love angst), and fluff
A/N : This is my first time writing, so advice, tips and critics are helpful :). English isn't my first language so I used tools to help me write.
Morning sunlight spilled through the wide windows of the staycation house, painting golden streaks across the wooden floor. The sound of waves crashing gently against the shore mixed with sleepy laughter, footsteps echoing through the hallway, cabinet doors opening and closing, and someone complaining that another person had stolen their towel. The entire house buzzed with an excitement that seemed contagious.
Today was beach day.
Not sightseeing.
Not shopping.
Not schedules.
Just a whole day of doing absolutely nothing except enjoying each other's company.
"...Who's making coffee?"
"I am!"
"...Who burned the toast?"
"Not me!"
"Han.."
"...Okay, maybe me."
Laughter erupted from the kitchen.
You couldn't help giggling as you tied your apron behind your back before returning to cutting fresh fruit. Bowls of strawberries, grapes, melon, and sliced oranges were neatly arranged on the counter while Chan carefully packed sandwiches into containers.
Minho stood beside you seasoning fried chicken that had cooled overnight.
"It'll taste better cold," he explained when you tilted your head curiously.
"I trust you."
"You should."
He smirked.
"I've never let you down with food."
You nodded very seriously.
"That's true."
Hyunjin was in charge of drinks.
Well...
He volunteered.
Although "in charge" was generous considering he had already been distracted twice taking too so much time arranging the fruit inside the cooler.
Chan looked over his shoulder.
"...Hyunjin."
"Hm?"
"We're going to eat them."
"I know."
"You don't have to make them look like an art exhibition."
"...But they deserve to."
You burst into laughter.
Minho pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Leave him."
Chan sighed dramatically.
"I've accepted my fate."
The kitchen felt alive and comfortable. The kind of chaos only people who truly knew one another could create. Every now and then someone wandered in asking if they could steal a piece of fruit.
Or a snack.
Or simply bother whoever happened to be cooking.
Felix wandered in three separate times.
Each time he claimed he was "checking on the progress."
Each time he somehow left eating something.
"You know..."
Chan crossed his arms.
"You've stolen more food than you've packed."
Felix looked offended.
"I was quality testing."
"You ate five strawberries."
"They passed."
Everyone laughed.
Meanwhile, the living room looked like a sporting goods store had exploded.
"Who packed the volleyball?"
"I did."
"Where are the towels?"
"By the entrance."
"Who's bringing sunscreen?"
"..."
Silence.
Everyone froze. Then eight heads slowly turned toward you. You blinked.
"...I packed it yesterday."
The collective sigh of relief made you laugh.
Jeongin dramatically clutched his chest.
"See?"
"I told you."
"What would we do without Y/N-ah?"
Han nodded seriously.
"We'd probably die."
"You guys are dramatic."
"We're honest."
Soon enough, everything was packed neatly into large beach bags.
Portable speakers.
Beach towels.
Umbrellas.
Paint supplies.
Shell containers.
A volleyball.
Cards.
Books.
Picnic blankets.
Snacks.
Cold drinks.
It looked less like a beach trip and more like everyone planned to move there permanently.
One by one everyone disappeared upstairs to change. You carried your own beach bag into your room before closing the door softly.
Standing in front of the mirror again...
Your eyes drifted toward the black halter swimsuit folded neatly on the bed. The one everyone had chosen. You picked it up carefully.
"...Okay."
You whispered to encourage yourself.
"It would look good obviously."
Slowly you changed into it. The fabric hugged your figure comfortably without feeling restrictive.
You turned once.
Then twice.
Tilting your head.
It...
Actually looked nice. Really nice.
The black contrasted beautifully against your skin. Your fluffy ears looked even softer somehow.
You smiled. A proud but a little shy one.
Before putting an oversized white linen shirt, unbuttoning it, as an outer. Loose enough to flutter in the breeze. Then wrapped a short black beach skirt around your waist to pair it. You looked at yourself one final time. "wow.. dang.. I look good."
When you stepped downstairs...
Felix happened to be walking past you. He stopped immediately. His mouth opened slightly. Then closed. Heat rising up to his cheeks. "...Whoa."
You looked down instinctively. "What?"
"You..." He smiled so softly your heart melted. "...You look beautiful." Now heat climbed into your cheeks.
"Really?"
"So beautiful."
He nodded without hesitation.
“Thank you, Lixie.” You twirled around showing off to him with a giggle. Then his eyes wandered toward your hair. "Wait." He suddenly snapped his fingers.
"Sit."
You blinked.
"Huh?"
"Come here."
Still confused, you followed him into the living room.
Felix sat comfortably on the sofa before patting the carpet between his legs.
"Sit."
Obediently, you lowered yourself onto the floor.
Cross-legged.
Your back resting lightly against the sofa between his legs. He reached for the brush lying nearby.
"I'll do your hair."
You smiled.
"Yes, please!"
Gentle fingers combed through your hair. The brush glided smoothly while the sea breeze drifting through the open windows danced around both of you. Neither of you spoke for a while.
The quiet felt nice.
Felix carefully gathered the top half of your hair.
Separating strands delicately around your fluffy ears.
"So pretty..."
He murmured almost to himself.
"Hm?"
"Nothing."
He smiled.
"I just like doing this."
You relaxed further.
Eyes slowly drifting closed.
His fingers were incredibly gentle.
Almost therapeutic.
"There."
He tied the half ponytail neatly before smoothing down a few loose strands framing your face.
"Done."
You reached for your phone to check the camera.
"...Lix."
"Hm?"
"It looks really nice!"
"I know."
He grinned proudly. His hands gently cupped your cheeks from behind. Tilting your head a little. Warm palms resting against your face. You looked upward, meeting his eyes. They looked impossibly soft. Filled with so much fondness that it almost embarrassed you. Felix smiled so bright that morning like the sunshine himself.
"So beautiful..."
You felt your ears twitch.
He leaned forward.
Placing the lightest kiss between your fluffy ears.
"So, so beautiful."
Another gentle kiss rested against your temple.
Then your forehead.
"I love seeing you smile."
His voice had dropped into that quiet tone only those sitting close enough could hear. "It makes everything brighter."
Your cheeks became impossibly warm.
"Lix..."
He chuckled softly. "I mean it."
His forehead rested briefly against the top of your head. "My sunshine."
Another kiss to your forehead.
"So pretty."
Another to your nose. Tilting your head a little more
"So precious."
Another to both of your cheeks. You couldn’t help but squealing happily.
"I'm glad you're here with us." He kissed your lips now. Lingering longer, lips moving so softly. You kissed him back with equal tenderness. Your tail wrapped around one of his ankles unconsciously. He pulled back first searching for your eyes.
"...Thank you." Your voice barely rose above a whisper.
Felix simply smiled. "I should be thanking you."
The private beach was almost empty.
Only a handful of families wandered near the shoreline. Several children chased one another while laughing.
Otherwise...
Peace.
Morning waves rolled lazily toward the shore.
The sea glittered beneath the bright sky.
A cool breeze carried the scent of salt and summer.
The moment everyone stepped onto the sand—
Chaos erupted.
"I'm first!"
Han sprinted toward the water.
Jeongin chased immediately after him.
Felix wasn't far behind.
The moment the cold waves splashed their feet—
All three screamed dramatically.
"IT'S COLD!"
"I TOLD YOU!"
"WHY IS IT SO COLD?!"
You laughed so hard your stomach hurt.
"They're unbelievable..."
Chan shook his head beside you.
"You'd think they've never seen the ocean before."
You lifted your phone.
Immediately recording them.
Han slipped.
Recovered.
Then intentionally splashed Jeongin.
Felix retaliated.
Soon everyone near the shoreline had started a miniature water fight. Your laughter echoed across the beach.
You snapped photos. Recorded videos.
Captured every ridiculous moment.
Because these were the memories worth keeping.
Eventually everyone calmed down enough to begin their morning walk. The nine of you strolled side by side along the shoreline. Bare feet sinking into wet sand. Waves occasionally brushing your ankles. Conversation drifted naturally.
"What animal would you want to be?"
"A tiger."
"A puppy."
"A capybara."
"You already act like one."
"Excuse me?"
Hyunjin suddenly pointed toward you.
"What about Y/N?"
Everyone looked.
You thought for a moment. "...Still a cat."
Han laughed.
"Even if you weren't already one?"
"I think so."
"That's fair."
Another topic emerged.
Favorite foods.
Favorite seasons.
Dream travel destinations.
Someone mentioned comeback ideas.
Hyunjin stretched dramatically.
"I want something really artistic."
Changbin nodded.
"Powerful."
Han immediately added,
"Or something completely insane."
Jeongin looked toward Chan.
"Hyung."
"What?"
"We should put Y/N in the next music video!"
You blinked.
"What?"
Everyone looked toward you.
"Ooh I wouldn't mind."
The words slipped out before you could overthink them.
You scratched your cheeks shyly. "You really think so?"
"Absolutely."
Chan simply watched everyone. His smile growing wider with every passing second. A thoughtful look settled behind his eyes. Almost like...
He was already imagining it.
After returning to the picnic area, everyone naturally scattered into smaller groups. Changbin and Jeongin started a volleyball match with Han and Felix. Minho claimed one of the hammocks. Book already in hand.
Chan layed stretched on the long beach chair comfortably beneath the umbrella taking a nap apparently, with Seungmin watching the other four playing sitting cross leg on the other chair.
Watching everyone with quiet contentment. You looked around.
Then remembered something.
"Hyunjin!"
He turned immediately.
"Hm?"
"Our shells!"
His entire face brightened.
"The shells!"
He nearly jogged over.
"I almost forgot!"
You laughed.
"I didn't."
He held his hand out instinctively.
Without thinking—
You slipped your hand into his. Warm fingers intertwined naturally. Neither of you commented on it. Together, the two of you wandered farther down the shoreline.
Heads lowered. Searching patiently. Looking for the prettiest shells the ocean had decided to gift you that morning.
Behind you—
The laughter of the other members blended effortlessly with the sound of waves.
Ahead of you—
The endless shoreline stretched beneath the brilliant summer sky. For a little while... The whole world felt peaceful.
The shoreline had grown warmer beneath the late-morning sun.
The tide rolled in and out lazily, leaving behind glistening patches of wet sand littered with tiny treasures the sea had decided to return. Every wave seemed to reveal another shell, another smooth stone, another piece of driftwood polished by years of saltwater.
You and Hyunjin wandered slowly, fingers loosely intertwined.
Unlike you, Hyunjin barely looked down anymore.
At first, he'd genuinely searched alongside you, bending down whenever something caught your eye. But after a while...
He found himself searching for something else.
Or rather...
Someone.
Every few seconds his gaze drifted back to you.
The way your loose unbuttoned white shirt danced in the breeze. Showing your body fitted so perfectly in your two-piece bathing suit. The sway of your fluffy cream-colored tail brushing lightly against your calves. How your ears twitched whenever you heard the waves crash louder than before.
How your eyes sparkled with childlike curiosity every time you spotted something half-buried beneath the sand.
He smiled to himself.
How can someone find this much happiness in something so small...?
Then—
"Oh!"
Your delighted gasp pulled him out of his thoughts.
"There!"
Your hand slipped from his as you hurried forward.
You crouched down immediately, carefully brushing damp sand away with your fingertips.
"Aha!"
Your face lit up.
"So pretty..."
Hyunjin stopped beside you.
Looking down.
You lifted your hand triumphantly.
"Look!"
Nestled in your palm was a perfectly preserved scallop shell.
Its ridges fanned out beautifully, pale cream fading into soft peach around the edges.
"This one's perfect!" you beamed. "Look at the shape! It isn't chipped at all!"
You turned your head toward him, your smile impossibly bright.
Hyunjin...
Never looked at the shell. His eyes stayed on your face.
The sunlight caught the strands of your hair. Your cheeks had turned slightly pink from the warmth. Tiny grains of sand clung to your knees where you'd knelt.
Your smile...
It reminded him so much of the feeling standing on stage.
Of looking out across thousands of glowing light sticks.
The same overwhelming warmth.
The same feeling that made his chest ache in the gentlest way.
He couldn't help smiling back. Looking at you with that longing eyes. Oh, what a yearner type of lover Hyunjin is. Have you guys ever looked at how this man always has that kind of looks at his eyes when he looked at something he love the most. STAYS... The members… Y/n…
"...It's beautiful."
You grinned even wider.
"I know!"
Completely misunderstanding what he meant. Hyunjin let out a quiet laugh under his breath.
Yeah...
It really is.
He crouched beside you this time, finally looking at the shell.
"It'll look nice painted."
"I think so too!"
You carefully tucked it into the small woven basket hanging from your arm.
Then immediately stood again.
"Let's find more!"
"You really aren't getting tired?"
"No!"
Your ears perked happily.
"We need different shapes!"
Hyunjin laughed.
"Then let's keep searching."
The next half hour passed peacefully.
Every few steps one of you discovered something new.
A spiral shell.
Tiny white clam shells.
Pieces of smooth sea glass washed ashore.
One shell shaped almost like a tiny heart.
You squealed every single time.
Without fail.
Each discovery earned the exact same excitement.
Hyunjin eventually stopped counting.
Instead...
He started collecting the ones he thought you would like.
Whenever he spotted something pretty before you did, he'd quietly pick it up.
Then walk over.
Holding it out proudly.
"What about this one?"
Your eyes always widened.
"Oh!"
"You found another one!"
He nodded proudly.
"Pretty?"
"So pretty!"
Without realizing it, you praised him every single time.
"Good job, Hyunnie! You're getting really good! This one's my favorite!"
He chuckled.
"...Really?"
"Mhm!"
Your approval somehow made him absurdly happy.
By the time both of you returned to the wooden picnic table...
The little basket was nearly overflowing.
You carefully poured everything onto the tabletop.
Shells clinked softly against one another.
Large.
Small.
Round.
Flat.
Spiral.
Scalloped.
Even tiny pieces of coral.
"We got so many!"
You clapped happily.
Hyunjin sat beside you. Much closer than necessary. His body angled toward yours naturally. One elbow rested on the tabletop while the other hand absentmindedly settled against the small of your back. "We really did."
He smiled.
"I didn't think we'd find this many."
You were already sorting them into little groups.
"This pile is for painting."
"This one's for decorating."
"And these little ones..."
You picked up three tiny shells.
"...Can go on the mini canvases!"
Hyunjin tilted his head.
"Mini canvases?"
Your eyes sparkled again.
"Oh!"
"I packed them!"
"You packed canvases?"
"Mhm!"
You nodded enthusiastically.
"I saw videos online."
"People paint tiny beaches on little canvases."
"And then glue shells around the edges!"
"And sometimes dried flowers!"
"I thought it'd be really fun if we made one together."
You rummaged through the beach bag before pulling out several postcard-sized canvases.
Acrylic paints.
Tiny brushes.
A palette.
Even little bottles of glue.
Hyunjin blinked.
Then laughed.
"...Love."
"Hm?"
"You really planned this huh ?"
You smiled sheepishly. "I just..."
Your fingers brushed over one of the blank canvases.
"...Thought it'd be nice."
"We're always busy."
"And I wanted us to make something."
"Something we could keep."
His expression softened almost instantly.
Without thinking—
You leaned lightly against his shoulder.
"I wanted us to have memories that aren't just pictures."
He slowly wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
Pulling you just a little closer.
His thumb rubbed absentminded circles over your upper arm.
"...You're incredible."
"Hm?"
"The amount of thought you put into everyone."
You looked up.
Confused.
"I just wanted everyone to have fun."
"I know."
He smiled gently.
"That's exactly what I mean."
He leaned down.
Pressing a lingering kiss against your temple.
"So thoughtful."
"So kind."
"So... you."
Heat rushed into your cheeks immediately. “Thank you!” you learned to received compliments more with genuine heart.
"You compliment too much."
"Not enough."
He answered without missing a beat.
You laughed, hiding your face against his shoulder.
He chuckled too.
"...I really would love to paint with you."
"I knew you would!" You start preparing the art supplies infront of you both.
A loud cheer suddenly echoed across the beach.
Both of you looked up.
The volleyball game had somehow become even noisier.
Changbin jumped high enough to spike the ball dramatically.
Han dove onto the sand trying to save it.
Only to completely miss.
Felix collapsed laughing before he'd even managed to stand again.
Jeongin pointed dramatically.
"Han-hyung!"
"You're terrible!"
"I slipped!"
"You weren't even moving!"
"I mentally slipped!"
The four burst into another fit of laughter.
Then—
Two tiny boys wandered shyly toward them.
They couldn't have been older than seven or eight.
One held a tiny plastic shovel.
The other hugged a beach ball almost as big as himself.
They stood several feet away.
Watching.
Waiting.
Curious.
Felix noticed them first.
He crouched immediately.
"Hi!"
The younger boy smiled nervously.
"...Can..."
He glanced toward his brother.
"...Can we play too?"
Han gasped dramatically.
"OF COURSE!"
Changbin immediately tossed the volleyball toward them.
"Come here!"
The older child caught it awkwardly before grinning.
Within seconds...
The game transformed completely.
Changbin purposely exaggerated every movement.
Pretending to lose dramatically whenever the boys hit the ball.
Han fell onto the sand after every point like he'd suffered a devastating defeat.
Felix celebrated every successful hit as though they'd just won an international championship.
Jeongin became the self-appointed referee.
"No!"
"That point counts!"
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
Everyone laughed.
Even the little boys.
Their laughter carried across the shoreline.
Bright.
Carefree.
Infectious.
A few minutes later, two adults hurried over.
Judging by the resemblance...
Their parents.
"We're so sorry!"
The mother bowed politely.
"They kept saying they wanted to play with you..."
"We hope they weren't bothering—"
"Not at all."
Felix smiled immediately.
"They're adorable."
Changbin nodded.
"We're having fun too."
Han crouched beside one of the boys.
"He beat me three times."
"I absolutely didn't."
"You did."
The child giggled proudly.
"I won!"
"You destroyed me."
Han sighed dramatically.
"I'm retiring."
The parents laughed in relief.
"Thank you."
"It really made their morning."
As they walked away, the younger boy turned back.
Waving enthusiastically.
"Bye!"
All four members waved back just as enthusiastically.
"Bye!"
"See you!"
"Practice your spikes!"
The little boy saluted seriously before running after his family.
You watched the entire interaction quietly.
Your heart swelling with warmth.
"...They're really good with children."
Hyunjin followed your gaze.
A soft smile tugged at his lips.
"They've always been like that."
Your eyes lingered on the four of them still laughing together in the sand.
"They're going to make really wonderful fathers someday lol."
The words slipped out as a joke and compliment so naturally that you barely thought about them.
Hyunjin looked at you.
Then toward the members again.
His smile softened. Hyunjin pulled you up to his lap with ease, hugging you close on the waist "...Yeah."
"They will." Kissing your covered shoulder lovingly, enjoying his moments with you close to him.
For just a moment...
Everything felt beautifully ordinary.
The sea breeze.
The laughter.
The warmth of the sun.
The people you loved gathered beneath an endless blue sky. It felt like one of those memories that would stay with you forever—
The kind you never realize is precious until much later, when all you want is to return to it.
STRAY KIDS HYBRIDS AU : OT8 STRAYKIDS X HYBRID RAGDOLL CAT FEM READER
Summary : Hybrids is well known to public, and in the entertainment industry, idols owning hybrids wasn’t unusual. Stray Kids have one, a pure ragdoll cat hybrid. Not as a pet, but more like a family, A Pack for her.
Pairing : Stray Kids OT8 x F!Reader
Tags : Angst ( I love angst), and fluff
A/N : This is my first time writing, so advice, tips and critics are helpful :). English isn't my first language so I used tools to help me write.
You guys ended up on a food bazaar happening near that beach. The summer bazaar near the beach felt alive in a way that made your heart pounding in excitement pleasantly. Summer truly felt alive here. Like the entire coastline had gathered together to celebrate something beautiful.
Music echoed faintly from somewhere deeper within the festival grounds, mixing together with laughter, conversations, sizzling grills, and crashing waves nearby. Colorful string lights hung overhead between stalls, glowing warmly against the darkening sky while signs blinked brightly advertising food, games, and summer events.
The smell alone made your senses dizzy— grilled seafood, sweet pastries, sugar, spices, smoky skewers, fresh fruits, perfume lingering from people brushing past, even traces of different hybrids’ scents blending into the crowd.
It smelled…
Happy.
That was the only way to describe it.
Happy.
Your ears twitched constantly trying to process everything at once while your eyes widened more and more with every step. Your eyes sparkled immediately while looking around at everything.
“Woah…”
Your voice came out breathless.
“There’s so many people here.”
Families wandered laughing together, children ran around carrying glowing toys, couples shared drinks beneath hanging lights, and groups of friends crowded around food stalls loudly debating what to buy.
Summer buzzed beautifully around all of you.
It genuinely felt like the season itself had come alive.
Chan looked around carefully, leader instincts immediately activating seeing the growing crowd.
“Okay listen,” Chan spoke firmly enough to gather everyone’s attention. “Nobody wanders off alone.”
Everyone looked toward him.
“Buddy system.”
Groans immediately erupted.
“Seriously?”
“Yes seriously,” Chan answered firmly. “No wandering off alone, and that’s final.”
“You sound like a kindergarten teacher,” Hyunjin muttered.
Chan ignored him completely.
“At least in pairs. Got it?”
Eventually smaller groups naturally formed while everyone wandered through the bazaar together. You stayed close beside the members while strolling deeper into the bazaar, your attention darting everywhere at once.
Street food vendors shouted excitedly trying to attract customers while steam rose beautifully into the evening air. Everywhere you looked felt exciting. And almost instantly A warm hand slipped into yours. You looked sideways. Felix grinned brightly at you before intertwining your fingers together naturally
Warm.
Comfortable.
Natural.
“Come on, Sunny!”
You blinked at him. Your heart melted instantly.
Because Felix calling you “Sunny” always sounded impossibly affectionate coming from him. Even though he himself was the brightest sunshine in your life.
“Sunny? You’re literally the sunshine here.”
Felix grinned brightly.
“But you are my sunshine, Y/n-ah !.”
Before you could argue further, he immediately tugged you forward through the crowd excitedly.
You squealed loudly while nearly stumbling after him.
“Lix— wait!”
Your laughter rang through the busy walkway while your tail bounced happily behind you. Even the members behind you both could hear your excitement spilling out uncontrollably.
And honestly—
Behind you, the other members watched with fond amusement.
“She’s literally skipping,” Minho observed. And you were.
It had been a long time since they’d seen you this carefree. You practically skipped between stalls while pointing at different foods and decorations excitedly. Your tail swished wildly behind you while you practically hopped beside Felix, excitement overflowing so obviously you couldn’t hide it even if you tried.
Felix only laughed harder hearing your happy squeals. He watched you more than the bazaar itself.
Completely soft.
Because moments like this when you forgot to overthink.
Forgot to shrink yourself.
Forgot to worry—
Were precious.
“You’re cute.”
“You’re dragging me!”
“You love it.”
…You did.
Because Felix always knew how to make the world feel lighter.
Safer.
Fun.
After wandering around for a while scouting almost every stall possible, Felix finally asked, “So?” He squeezed your hand lightly.
“What do you wanna eat?” You looked around immediately.
“The sweet stalls look really good…”
Felix narrowed his eyes playfully.
“Absolutely not. Real food first.”
You pouted dramatically, making Felix pinched your cheek lightly.
Then your ears perked suddenly.
“Oh!”
You pointed excitedly toward a nearby stall.
“That gukbap place smells amazing.”
“You smelled it?”
You nodded proudly.
The rich savory aroma drifted strongly through the air even from several stalls away.
“And mandu too! It smelled rich,” you explained excitedly. “Like beef broth and garlic and green onion and—”
Felix laughed softly.
“Okay then. Lead the way then”
Still holding your hand tightly, he followed wherever you led him.
The two of you somehow completely lost control afterward.
Eventually you stopped excitedly near a cozy food stall where steaming broth filled the air deliciously.
“There!”
Felix looked up toward the sign.
Sure enough—
Gukbap.
And fresh mandu being folded nearby.
The warm savory smell immediately wrapped around both of you.
“Oh wow…”
“See?!” you chirped proudly.
Felix laughed softly.
“You win.”
The older woman running the stall greeted both of you warmly while leading you toward a small outdoor table nearby.
The lights overhead glowed softly above the two of you while distant festival sounds buzzed around the night air.
Felix pulled your chair out for you automatically before sitting across from you.
“You’re very gentleman today,” you teased.
“I’m always gentleman.”
You burst into laughter immediately. And Felix found himself staring again. Because your laugh tonight sounded so free. So genuine. It made something emotional settle warmly inside him.
The food arrived quickly afterward.
Steaming hot gukbap filled with rich broth and tender meat.
Fresh mandu with crispy bottoms and juicy filling.
The smell alone nearly made you melt.
“Oh my god…”
Felix laughed watching your expression.
“You’re reacting like you found heaven.”
“Maybe I did.”
Your ears twitched happily while your tail swayed beneath the table.
Felix physically softened seeing it.
And honestly—
Watching you enjoy simple things like this always made the members feel strangely emotional.
Because you never asked for much.
Just warmth.
Attention.
Love.
Time together.
Things they hadn’t realized you’d slowly been starving for before.
What started as gukbap and mandu turned into far too many plastic bags filled with food.
Gimbap.
Chicken skewers.
Hotteok dripping with syrup.
Bungeoppang stuffed with sweet red bean.
Cream-filled donuts.
Drinks.
Desserts.
Snacks.
Felix stared at the growing pile.
“…I think we got too much.”
You looked at the bags.
Then immediately burst into laughter. “A little bit.”
Eventually Felix got a text saying the others had found a table nearby. So, both of you hurried back carrying enough food to feed an army. The second Han saw the amounts of bags his jaw dropped.
“WHAT happened?!”
You laughed sheepishly.
“We wanted to share with everyone…”
“Did you buy the entire market?”
“Maybe.”
The long outdoor table quickly filled with food afterward.
Steam rising warmly into the cool evening air.
On one side stretched the glowing bazaar. On the other the beach glittered beneath lights and moonlit waves. And surrounded by laughter, warmth, food, and the people you loved most—
This vacation truly felt healing.
Everyone ate noisily while talking over each other. Felix stayed pressed close beside you the entire time while happily feeding you bites from different desserts he wanted you to try.
“You need to taste this.”
“Lix, I’m still chewing—”
“Open.”
Your cheeks were puffed up with food. Before you could react, Felix immediately pointed dramatically.
“Hey Jisung-ah.”
Han looked up.
“Hm?”
“You guys look exactly the same.”
Silence.
You and Han slowly turned toward each other.
Both with puffed cheeks full of food.
Both blinking innocently.
Then suddenly—
You both nearly choked laughing.
Han bent forward coughing dramatically while you grabbed Felix’s shoulder wheezing. The entire table erupted immediately.
“Oh my god.”
“They actually do.”
“Copy paste.”
“You’re both squirrels.”
“I hate you guys,” Han laughed breathlessly.
Eventually the eating slowed down. You rubbed your stomach lightly with a small laugh. “I’m gonna regret gaining all this weight…”
The comment came too casually.
Thoughtlessly.
But Felix immediately frowned beside you.
“What do you mean?”
You blinked at his tone.
“It’s okay to enjoy good food like this.” His voice softened slightly afterward. “You should enjoy it.”
You smiled weakly. “Yeah… you’re right.”
Still your fingers unconsciously fiddled with your dress a little.
“I just…” you hesitated quietly, “I can’t help worrying a little lately.”
The others slowly looked toward you.
Jeongin tilted his head slightly.
“Why? You look really good though, Doll.”
Then softer, “Did you actually gain weight?”
You shook your head quickly.
“Not really…”
Your voice trailed off uncertainly.
“It’s just…”
The moment Jina’s name nearly left your mouth, your chest tightened strangely. But eventually you sighed quietly. “…Jina mentioned my tummy during the photoshoot.”
Silence immediately settled over the table.
The atmosphere shifted subtly.
Not heavily.
But enough.
Jeongin blinked.
“…Noona did?”
You nodded slowly.
“…Yeah.”
Nobody spoke for a second. Doesn’t really know how to respond to that. But Han quickly tried smoothing things over.
“Maybe she didn’t mean it badly.” His voice sounded careful. Like he desperately wanted to prevent the mood from sinking more.
“You know how people sometimes point things out without thinking.” He smiled awkwardly. “We seriously don’t mind though. Right guys?”
Everyone nodded almost immediately.
Han hurriedly continued before the silence could deepen again.
“Anyway! What should we do after this?”
He clapped once dramatically.
“More walking? Or call it a night?”
The others slowly followed his lead, conversation beginning again little by little.
But still—
You could only manage a small tight smile. Your fingers curled lightly against your lap.
Felix’s hand found yours beneath the table. Holding it gently. Squeezing softly.
You looked sideways.
He was already looking at you lovingly, with his famous sparkly bobba eyes.
His expression quiet.
Tender.
Understanding.
No teasing.
No joking.
Just reassurance.
Like he knew your thoughts were spiraling again.
Your chest fluttered at the kindness.
Slowly, you mouthed toward him—
“Thank you.”
Felix smiled softly in return.
And without letting go of your hand—
He intertwined your fingers together tighter.
The walk back to the staycation house felt slower than the rest of the day. Not because anyone was tired. But because nobody wanted the day to end yet.
The night air was cool against your skin, carrying the scent of salt and summer. Waves crashed softly somewhere beyond the darkness while the lights of the nearby town twinkled behind you. Every now and then, laughter broke out among the members as they retold moments from the day.
Han dramatically reenacted himself nearly choking from laughing at dinner. Felix insisted the story became funnier every time. Hyunjin somehow got distracted by the moon reflecting on the ocean and spent several minutes trying to photograph it. And you?
You simply walked in the middle of them.
Listening.
Smiling.
Feeling strangely warm even with the cool wind blowing from the shore.
By the time everyone returned to the house, the atmosphere had settled into something cozy.
Home-like.
Shoes were kicked off near the entrance.
Bags got tossed onto chairs.
Someone immediately claimed the largest section of the couch.
Someone else stole the softest blanket.
The living room quickly filled with life again.
Felix sprawled across one end of the sofa.
Han occupied an entire beanbag like a starfish.
Changbin sat cross-legged on the floor.
Minho somehow looked elegant even while half-slouching into a chair.
The fireplace wasn't lit, but the room still felt warm from the lingering energy everyone carried back with them. You ended up curled on the arm of the sofa while everyone continued talking.
The conversation naturally shifted toward tomorrow.
"Beach day." Felix immediately sat upright. His eyes sparkled. "A full beach day."
The others laughed.
Of course Felix had already planned the entire thing. He pointed around the room dramatically.
"Morning walk first."
Everyone nodded.
"Then beach games."
More nods. Perfect because the staycation site has its own private beach. A sharing private beach with the other occupants of the other houses. There're also some hut bars for several kinds of drinks, foods, and even snacks build by the site owner. And of course, delicious signature cocktails and mocktails. Still need to pay for the beverages and foods tho, but still perfect for a small get away like this.
"We stop around lunch."
"Picnic?" Han suggested.
"Picnic under the shades and trees outside!" Felix agreed immediately.
"Then after resting we go back around three or four."
"To avoid the sunburn," Seungmin added.
"Exactly."
The planning continued for almost twenty minutes.
Ideas bounced around constantly.
Volleyball.
Swimming.
Building sandcastles.
Taking photos.
Watching sunset.
Eventually you raised your hand slightly.
"I wanna collect seashells."
The room immediately paused.
You smiled sheepishly.
"And maybe paint them."
Hyunjin's head snapped toward you.
"WAIT."
His eyes widened.
"You brought art supplies?"
You nodded enthusiastically.
His entire face lit up.
"Oh my god."
He looked genuinely excited.
"We are absolutely doing that."
You laughed.
"I thought you would like it."
"I love it."
Meanwhile Jeongin pointed at you from across the room.
"You really prepared for everything."
You puffed your chest slightly.
"I try."
"No seriously."
He laughed.
"What would we do without you, Y/N-ah?"
The words were casual.
Probably not meant to linger.
But they did.
Because there was a time recently when you genuinely wondered if they still needed you at all.
The warmth in your chest felt bittersweet.
Before you could dwell on it, however—
Seungmin suddenly spoke.
"I can't wait to see the swimsuits."
Silence.
Then immediate realization crossed your face. "Oh."
Everyone looked toward you.
"Oh!"
You nearly jumped up.
"I forgot about those!"
The members looked confused as you suddenly scrambled off the couch and bolted upstairs.
"Where are you going?!"
Nobody got an answer.
Five minutes later—
You returned carrying a pile of swimsuits.
The room erupted immediately.
"What is that?"
"Wait."
"Are those all swimsuits?"
You dumped the pile dramatically onto the center rug.
The members stared.
Then stared harder.
Then looked at each other.
You crossed your arms.
"Help me choose!"
Immediately their attention sharpened. Like you had just announced a national emergency. "I only brought four options."
You pointed dramatically.
"Before anyone complains."
Several members immediately closed their mouths, refraining themselves from complaining. You narrowed your eyes. "Some of the swimsuits you guys bought..."
You paused.
"...are ridiculous."
Hyunjin coughed.
Chan suddenly found the ceiling fascinating.
Han refused eye contact.
You pointed accusingly to each member.
"Way too revealing."
The guilty members avoided your gaze.
"I am not confident enough for those."
Pouting immediately spread across multiple faces, which you concluded are the ones who bought the most revealing ones.
You ignored them.
"Anyway."
You gestured toward the remaining choices.
There's a simple dark blue long sleeve one piece with a hot pink flower on the bottom parts, a black halter with a crisscross design two piece, a soft pink swim dress with a flowy short skirt, and lastly a lighter blue halter swimsuit but with a boy short, a triangle shaped hole on the stomach area and white vertical stripes with a little bow in the middle for the top part.
The room immediately descended into chaos. Everyone gathered around the swimsuits and picking it up to look at it better.
Studying them.
Discussing them.
Arguing over them.
Like professional judges at some international competition.
You sat comfortably on the single sofa nearby. All of them looked too focused and thinking too hard like it's a non-negotiable life and death situation. They huddled around to discussed it together while you adjusted your position leaning on the arm rest staring amused at their dedication. You stifle a giggle with seeing how cute they are and their non-stop argue about which swim wear you should wear and why. You let out your phone to take picture of that very moment.
Watching.
Amused.
Because they were taking this so seriously.
"You don't understand."
Hyunjin pointed dramatically.
"The blue one matches her eyes."
"No it doesn't."
"It matches her vibe."
"That's not a thing."
"It absolutely is."
Meanwhile Han held up the pink swimdress.
"This one is cute."
"But the blue one is prettier."
"The black one is elegant."
"The black one is dangerous."
"What does that even mean?"
"You know exactly what it means."
You nearly choked holding back laughter. Because the sight was honestly adorable. Eight grown men huddled together debating your swimwear like their lives depended on it. Their brows furrowed.
Hands gesturing dramatically.
Voices overlapping.
The entire thing felt ridiculous.
And strangely precious.
Eventually a final verdict emerged. The black halter swimsuit and the blue sailor-inspired swimsuit. The members stood together proudly like they had completed a group project. Minho stepped forward first.
"We have decided."
You laughed.
"Okay?"
"The second one."
"And the fourth one."
You blinked.
"Really?"
Everyone nodded.
You looked down uncertainly.
"Are you sure it won't look weird on me?"
Immediately multiple voices answered.
"No."
"Absolutely not."
"Not even close."
"You'll look amazing."
Chan waved away your concerns entirely.
"You'll look beautiful."
The certainty in his voice made your ears warm.
Slowly you smiled.
"Okay."
A small pause.
Then—
"Okay, I trust you guys."
Immediately quiet celebrations broke out.
"YES."
"I told you."
"Victory."
The room dissolved into laughter once more.
For a little while, everything felt light.
A phone rang.
Felix glanced down.
His expression brightened.
"Oh."
The screen showed a video call. From Jina.
The atmosphere shifted almost imperceptibly.
Not enough for most people to notice. But your ears twitched immediately.
Felix answered and put up the phone so it can capture everyone. Her face appeared instantly.
Bright smile.
Perfect makeup.
Cheerful voice.
"Hey guys!"
Everyone greeted her warmly.
The members naturally gathered closer around Felix's phone.
"Hey Jina."
"How are you?"
"Miss us already?"
The members bombarded her with questions. She laughed.
"I was looking for you guys!" Her eyes widened dramatically. "I texted Chan this morning." She pointed accusingly. "No response all day."
Chan winced. "Oh. I’m so sorry, Jina-ah"
"You ignored me!"
"I forgot."
"You forgot me?"
Everyone laughed.
Then Jeongin casually answered.
"We're in Busan, noona. We’re having a little vacation!"
Jina blinked. Then pouted immediately. "What?" Her voice became playfully dramatic. "You guys didn't invite me?"
She pressed a hand against her chest.
"Wow. Damn. I thought I was special." The members laughed awkwardly.
And immediately—
Something unpleasant twisted inside your stomach. Irritation.
Because you could predict what will come. You answered before anyone else could. "It's Stray Kids members only." Your voice came calmly. "Sorry, not sorry."
The room went quiet.
Jina's eyes found you through the screen. Then narrowed almost invisibly. "Oh?" The smile stayed. But something colder flashed underneath. "And they brought ‘you’ along?"
The emphasis landed immediately. Like she’s mocking you.
You felt it.
Everyone did. The tension growing.
You leaned back slightly, scoffing softly.
"Of course."
Your smile mirrored hers. "Why wouldn't they?" you mocked her back.
A brief silence followed.
Then Jina looked back toward the members.
"Seriously though." She laughed lightly.
"Why bring her but not me?"
The atmosphere immediately became awkward with this growing competing like tension.
Your nose picked it up before anyone spoke.
Nervousness.
Discomfort.
Awkwardness.
The members exchanged glances.
Changbin spoke first. Trying to smooth things over. "We're sorry, Jina-ah." He smiled apologetically. "It was really a last minute."
You rolled your eyes unconsciously, before you could stop yourself. "It's not a big deal."
The room quieted again.
You looked directly at the phone.
"She's just a staff." Pointing at her. The words came bluntly. "We agreed no staff. And it was final, end of discussion."
You continued.
"We didn't invite managers either." You shrugged.
"Though they know we're here, they are not upset or anything. It's not a big deal, really !"
The silence afterward felt heavier.
Jina's smile faded slightly.
Then quietly—
"You really hate me that much, huh?"
The question wasn't loud.
But it landed.
Immediately.
You blinked. "wha-?"
Because suddenly everyone was looking at you.
Chan frowned.
"Y/N-ah..."
His voice was gentle.
"You shouldn't say it like that."
Your stomach tightened.
You sighed.
Trying again.
"I'm not saying I hate her."
You rubbed your temple.
"I'm just saying..."
You searched for the words.
"If you're not invited somewhere..."
You hesitated.
"...sometimes it just means the event isn't meant for you."
You shrugged.
"That's normal. It’s common sense."
Still.
The atmosphere remained uncomfortable. Minho could see how you grew frustrated at that moment, he finally spoke. His voice soft. Kind. The same voice that always made your defenses crumble. "I understand what you mean, Jagi."
You immediately looked toward him. His expression stayed warm. "But I think it sounded a little harsh." The disappointment wasn't even there. Yet somehow—
That made it worse. Instant guilt flooded through you. Your ears lowered flatten back. "...Yeah."
You looked away. "I guess you're right."
Minho smiled softly.
Not angry.
Never angry.
Just understanding.
And somehow that made your chest ache. “I’m sorry about that…”
You sighed and stood slowly.
Dusting invisible lint from your clothes. Stretching slightly to avoid looking so awkward. "I'm gonna head in first." You didn't wait for their responds, you went on.
Nobody stopped you from going.
Maybe because they thought you wanted rest.
Maybe because nobody knew what to say.
Quietly climbing the stairs. Leaving the conversation behind. Your room felt colder somehow.
Quieter.
You sat on the edge of the bed.
Listening.
The walls weren't thick. You could still hear voices from downstairs faintly.
Laughter.
Conversation.
Jina's voice through the phone.
The members reassuring her. Comforting her. Explaining things. Telling her stories from today.
You knew they were only being kind. That was who they were.
Kind.
Patient.
Thoughtful.
The very things you loved most about them.
So why did it bother you so much?
Why did your chest feel tight?
Why did irritation still linger?
You stared at the floor.
Trying to untangle the feeling.
Trying to decide whether it was jealousy.
Frustration.
Resentment.
Or something else entirely.
Because maybe—
Just maybe—
You were tired of always being asked to understand.
Tired of always making room.
Tired of watching someone who constantly made you uncomfortable receive endless patience anyway.
The thought immediately made guilt follow afterward.
Because wasn't that unfair?
Wasn't that petty?
You sighed heavily.
Rubbing your face.
No matter how much you thought about it—
The feeling wouldn't disappear.
Maybe because feelings weren't always logical.
Sometimes they simply existed.
Whether they were justified or not.
Outside your bedroom window, the ocean continued singing softly beneath the night sky.
And downstairs—
The laughter continued.
While you sat alone trying to figure out why your heart suddenly felt heavy again.
Eventually you stood. Gathering your pajamas and toiletries.
The familiar routine helped.
Something simple.
Something predictable.
Something quiet.
The guest bathroom upstairs you occupied was quiet.
Too quiet.
The soft yellow light above the mirror illuminated the room warmly while the distant sound of laughter from downstairs echoed faintly through the house as you stood there brushing your teeth.
For a moment, you simply stared at your reflection.
The girl staring back looked normal.
Maybe a little tired.
Hair slightly messy.
Fluffy ears drooping relax and comfortably.
Nothing seemed wrong.
Yet ten minutes ago your thoughts had been spiraling. Too full.
About Jina.
The conversation downstairs.
The uncomfortable feeling in your chest.
The way Chan frowned.
The way Minho gently corrected you.
The way everyone immediately rushed to make sure Jina didn't feel left out.
Your mind had been loud.
Crowded.
Heavy.
But now...
Nothing.
Just emptiness.
You blinked slowly at yourself. The toothbrush moving absentmindedly.
Maybe you were tired.
Maybe you genuinely didn't want to waste this vacation being upset over someone who wasn't worth it.
The realization settled softly inside your chest.
You spat into the sink before rinsing your mouth.
A long breath escaped you.
Cold water splashed against your face.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The chill immediately shocked your senses awake.
You lifted your head.
Water dripped from your chin.
And somehow...
You felt lighter.
Not perfect.
Not completely okay.
But lighter.
“Enough.”
Enough to enjoy tomorrow.
Enough to enjoy tonight.
Enough to stop thinking.
For now. “Not tonight.” You mumbled to yourself. So you dried your face, gathered your things, and headed back toward your room.
Your room welcomed you with comfortable silence.
You changed into your pajamas.
A loose oversized shirt and soft shorts.
The bed practically called your name. Then you practically face-planted onto the bed.
"Ahhh..."
A long sigh escaped you.
Your tail lazily swished against the blanket.
Yet instead of immediately sleeping, reaching over, you grabbed your phone. Soft music filled the room. The kind of songs that made your chest feel warm.
You grabbed your notebook from your bag and your favorite pen.
Then climbed onto the bed.
Cross-legged.
A recent habit.
A habit you had picked up from Seungmin months ago.
At first he'd suggested journaling after noticing how often you bottled things up.
You remembered the conversation clearly.
"Just try it."
"What's the point?"
"You learn things about yourself."
"That sounds scary."
"Exactly."
You had rolled your eyes back then.
But eventually tried it.
And now?
You loved it.
Writing things down somehow made everything easier to understand. Your feelings became less tangled. Your worries less overwhelming. Your gratitude easier to notice.
The notebook opened naturally to a fresh page.
You smiled softly.
Just you.
Your thoughts.
And honesty.
The pages slowly filled.
Things you were grateful for.
The brunch.
The ocean.
Felix feeding you desserts.
Hyunjin getting excited over painting shells.
Chan carrying you last night.
The shopping trip.
Jeongin helping you pose for pictures.
Changbin complimenting you at sunset.
Even the silly swimsuit debate.
As you wrote, the memories replayed.
One by one.
And despite everything...
You smiled.
Because today had been good.
Really good.
You didn't want one uncomfortable conversation to erase all of that.
The song playing through your speaker reached its chorus.
You hummed along absentmindedly. Tail lazily swaying behind you. The room felt peaceful.
Then—
Click.
Your door opened.
You looked up.
Seungmin stood there already dressed for bed. One shoulder leaning against the frame. Arms crossed.
Smirk displaying on his face.
"Still journaling?"
His voice carried amusement.
You closed the notebook.
"I'm done."
His smirk widened.
"Good."
Something immediately felt suspicious.
Your eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
Instead of answering—
He looked behind him.
"Hyung." He called to his behind, his grin became downright evil. "She's done."
Then a shadow appeared behind him.
Changbin.
The moment he stepped into view—
You sat up straighter and immediately every instinct in your body screamed danger.
Because for some reason—
He looked calm.
Too calm.
His expression was completely serious.
Dangerously focused.
He entered your room calmly.
Slowly.
The floor creaked beneath his weight.
You instinctively scooted backward on the bed.
"What?"
No answer.
Changbin continued approaching.
"What?"
Still nothing.
"Changbin."
His expression never changed.
You looked toward Seungmin.
The younger man was visibly holding back laughter.
"Why are you smiling like that?"
No answer.
Your survival instincts activated immediately.
"You two are planning something."
Seungmin finally cracked.
A laugh escaped him.
And somehow that felt worse.
"Guys?"
Changbin stopped directly in front of the bed.
Towering.
Massive.
You gulped. Because why was Seo Changbin suddenly so enormous?
"...Guys."
Without warning—
Two strong arms wrapped around your waist. A startled squeak escaped you. Then suddenly the world flipped upside down.
"AH—"
Before you could react—
You were thrown over Changbin's shoulder. Slung you over like a sack of potato. Like absolutely nothing. Like you weighed less than a pillow. "CHANGBIN!"
Your voice echoed through the room and outside.
Seungmin doubled over laughing.
"Oh my god."
You kicked your legs.
"This is kidnapping!"
"Nope."
Seungmin followed behind happily.
"It's more like a catnapping."
You gasped dramatically.
"SEUNGMIN."
The betrayal.
The absolute betrayal.
Changbin simply continued walking.
Unaffected.
Calm.
As if carrying an outraged cat hybrid over his shoulder happened every day.
Which honestly...
It kind of did.
By now they had reached the bottom of the stairs.
Your protests echoed throughout the house.
Immediately attracting attentions from the living room.
You squirmed a little trying to escape. Only for Changbin's large hand to lightly smack the back of your thigh.
"Behave."
"NO."
"You asked for this."
"I DIDN'T."
"You did."
"I LITERALLY DIDN'T."
The remaining members looked up from their card game.
Han blinked.
Felix blinked.
Hyunjin blinked.
Jeongin blinked.
Minho looked up from his cards.
Then casually looked back down.
Nobody appeared concerned.
Not a single person.
Only Chan laughing from the scene.
"HELP ME."
You reached dramatically toward them.
"PLEASE."
Han pointed at you.
"You look comfortable."
"I AM NOT."
"You kinda do."
"I'M BEING KIDNAPPED."
Minho placed a card down. "No." He answered calmly. "You're being collected."
The room erupted into laughter.
You gasped.
"Collected?!"
"Like a stray cat."
Felix nodded seriously.
"Exactly."
You felt betrayed by every single one of them. You crossed your arms and glared at them. Meanwhile Seungmin laughed so hard he nearly missed a step.
The three of you finally reached the bedroom.
Changbin and Seungmin's room.
The door opened.
Then closed behind you.
The room immediately felt warmer.
Changbin finally set you down onto the bed. More like tossed you to the bed. Making you bounced on it.
Seungmin plopped next to you on the edge of the bed. Changbin sat on his side of bed, leaning back on the headboard. You layed on the middle of them, your elbows supporting your upper body.
Seungmin smiled.
"You looked upset earlier." He poked your forehead.
Your expression softened slightly.
"...Oh."
Changbin crossed his arms.
"You disappeared."
"I was getting ready for bed."
"You were hiding."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
You opened your mouth.
Then closed it.
Because unfortunately—
He wasn't entirely wrong. You lay there flat looking at the ceiling.
Silence settled.
Gentle.
Comfortable.
The teasing faded.
Leaving behind something softer.
Seungmin hover on top of you, lightly flicking one of your ears.
"You know."
He spoke quietly.
"You don't always have to handle things by yourself."
You looked at his kind eyes.
Changbin's voice came next.
Lower.
Steadier.
"We notice more than you think."
The words settled deep inside your chest. So instead of answering you laughed sheepishly.
Weakly.
Trying to hide it.
Seungmin pressed his body on top of you, trapping you and nuzzling his head on the crook of your neck. You groaned from the sudden weight. His arm circling you. Changbin chuckled from seeing the scene in front of him. It’s so rare for Puppy Seungmin to emerge in front of others like this.
“Puppy!” you giggled, hand immediately interlocked with his hair. Massaging his nape, while the other hand pulled him closer. Legs locking his waist.
That night you were trapped between both of them.
Outside, the ocean continued singing beyond the windows.
Inside, the house remained alive with distant voices and laughter from the members downstairs.
And somewhere between those moments— Curled up safely between two people who refused to let you isolate yourself. Ending in Changbin spooning both you and Seungmin, who were hugging each other. It was so warm that night, making you purred. Healing both boys in their sleep with those low vibrations.
────── y/n has been playing genshin with “Chris” whom she met one day on the game. They’ve been voice chatting and playing together everyday. She’s an open book but chris.. she doesnt actually know anything about him.
sc: 14 !! from suvvra tysm for all the love on my other two posts it’s so sweet and I’ll try to make it more interesting and longer in the next part but my imagination needs some work 😔
────── y/n has been playing genshin with “Chris” whom she met one day on the game. They’ve been voice chatting and playing together everyday. She’s an open book but chris.. she doesnt actually know anything about him.
Warnings(?) : Mischaracterization of skz, reader has trouble expressing herself & being vulnerable, disorganized attachment, reader usually uses anger to express herself (monkey see, monkey do), family issues, silent treatment, reader goes no contact with her parents, Chan scolds reader (lovingly) after she snaps at Han, reader feels unlovable, a lot of physical affection, flinching, mentions of physical abuse (shoving, slapping, etc.), argument between Chan and reader during pre-debut, Felix and reader have some issues pre-debut, jealousy, insecurity, bottled up emotions, depression, crying, reader isn't kind to herself :(
A/N (Author's Note) : reader's theme song in this one is literally i bet on losing dogs by mitski. also guys im gonna be completely honest idk how Chan chose all of the members or like how he met them, so we're just gonna say he met reader within the company and saw her potential 🤞 btw, this isn't proofread so uhm.. yeah... sorry!! 🥹
Thank you so much for your request, anon! I hope this fulfills it! 🫶🏻
Based on this request!!!
The fic begins below the squiggly line! Enjoy! <3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You never really felt like you were worth much to begin with.
I mean, who would love something like you? Who could?
You weren't even somebody. You were something.
You weren't used to effort. If anything, you were afraid of it. If it was unfamiliar, you hated it. You hated nearly everything.
You were always so angry, yet you never knew why. You never meant to be this way. You had just been guided wrong by your parents, and instead of questioning them, you followed them blindly.
You were taught that love is difficult. Only the most worthy people deserve it, and in order to deserve it, they have to earn it. It isn't just given out. Nothing in life is free.
It didn't start at a specific age. You were born like this. You were born into this life. You were raised by angry parents.
When you were younger, they argued a lot. You never liked it, but you never really spoke up, either. Why would you? You didn't want to get yelled at again.
They'd always team up on you, too.
Anytime you asked either of them about your grandparents, they always froze. It wasn't loud and dramatic. It was silent, and you hated it. They wouldn't yell at you then. They'd just stare with an expression you couldn't really make out.
You hated silence. It always got you hurt.
Or maybe you always got yourself hurt. You weren't sure. Either way, you didn't like it.
Silence usually meant anger, just less dramatic.
Silence meant that they were planning something, and that "something" was always them taking their anger out on you.
You learned to hate silence by the time you were five.
And you learned to hate loudness by the time you were six.
You never exactly liked it to begin with. Nobody likes when things are too loud. It's overwhelming and flashy and... just too much.
Loudness usually equaled insults and name-calling. Sometimes, it also meant getting hurt physically. You were used to your parents slapping you in the mouth for having an attitude or talking back.
Well, that's what they claimed it was, at least. You knew it was just an excuse that they liked to use so they could try and justify hitting their kid.
Your mother was usually more physically violent than your dad since she claimed she had the right to be. She was a woman, and she would much rather hit you herself than allow your father to do so.
It didn't matter who hit you, though. It would hurt regardless. They were both rough, after all.
It hurt each time, but you eventually got used to it... a little bit.
Young children don't forget, though. They hold onto things. They remember everything. They remember those hurtful words you spat in the heat of the moment, making them wonder if it was really just your anger speaking or if it was you. They remember the look in your eyes. They remember your body language. They remember what to avoid. They remember what to listen for.
They remember the way you made them feel. Useless, scared, desperate... they remember it all.
Your parents never paid attention to that, though. I mean, it wasn't like they were the ones getting hurt, so why would they care, right?
It took you a few years to find something that you didn't hate. You enjoyed music a lot. Music never left you alone to fend for yourself.
You weren't sure how you got into the entertainment industry in the first place. You were a freshman in high school. Everything happened so quickly that you didn't even remember how you were chosen to become a trainee.
One thing was for sure, though. Your parents were there to keep you on your toes at all times.
They wanted to make sure you wouldn't embarrass them or bring shame to their name. They always wanted to make sure you were the best behaved there.
But that was the problem. You didn't know how to behave. They never really taught you. The only thing they taught you was fear of disobeying them.
So, you decided to remain quiet instead. If you didn't start any arguments, then you couldn't get in trouble. Simple.
Months passed, and you advanced further and further. Despite being young, you were already admired by a few other trainees, some of which were even older than you.
But even as the months passed and you were considered and recommended by different groups, you didn't exactly feel like you were worth anything. You had always struggled with self-worth thanks to your parents, but seeing all of the other girls that were much better than you made you even more insecure.
You managed to balance out your school life with your training, as your school was pretty graceful with their attendance policies.
It took another month for you to gain some sort of attention from other trainees. It was around the end of the year 2016.
And they weren't exactly what you expected.
They were all young men. You thought that you would have been picked out by a girl group or something along the lines of it.
Instead, you were noticed by other trainees who were also under JYP.
The one whose eye you caught was supposedly the leader of the small group of five that he had already formed.
Although you didn't exactly match the other boys' energy, you were still talented. You were shy, but your love for singing and constantly trying to improve yourself intrigued the young man who asked if you wanted to be one of his members.
You soon learned that the leader's name was Bangchan, or Chris, or Chan-
You didn't know. He apparently went by a lot of names, but he told you to just call him Chan to keep things simple.
So, you did.
As the months went by, you continued advancing in both school and your training.
Chan was kind and caring, but he could also be a bit strict at times. He was a bit harsher on the others than he was on you, probably because you were constantly improving anyway. You never really needed much scolding. You already got enough of it when you were younger.
Time went on, and more members joined.
They were all different in their own way, but you all had something in common: you were all chosen by Chan. He saw something in all of you, whether it be personality, talent, passion, potential, or all four. He never really treated anyone differently.
But the thing that bothered your other members was how painfully shy you were. You almost refused to speak unless you had to.
It wasn't that you didn't know how to talk. You obviously knew how to speak. You just... chose not to most of the time.
No matter how much they tried to talk to you, you just couldn't get yourself to open up. Sure, you would smile and respond to small talk to avoid silence and awkwardness, but other than that, you never really tried to connect with them.
They didn't exactly dislike you for it, but it did create some sort of tension that you couldn't explain.
You just didn't want to mess up. You didn't want to accidentally get on a touchy topic with one of them and then get into an argument. You didn't want to blow up at them like your parents constantly did at you.
You didn't spend all of your time with them, though, which you were grateful for. Since you were fairly close to Seoul, the company allowed you and a few other members to live with your parents during training.
You soon had to switch to online school, but you hated every second of it. School and training were your only escape from your parents, so now you only had one way to get away from them.
You especially hated not being able to go to school in person anymore since the physical abuse became more severe.
You had been on your best behavior while training, but when the company expressed their concern of your intense shyness to your parents... yeah, that night wasn't pretty.
It resulted in another argument, and when you tried to call them out for the way they were acting, which you claimed was immature, they called you a hypocrite. Each time you tried to stand up for yourself, they grabbed and scolded you all over again.
Your mother tried to slap some sense into you, and eventually, you had to raise your hand and cower to get her to stop. She claimed you were being "disrespectful" and had a "bad attitude." She said she was just trying to fix you.
You didn't feel like it was intense enough to call the police, especially since it would be a whole big deal. It still hurt, though. Your skin was irritated and red for the rest of the night, but you never spoke up about it to anyone. You were too afraid to anyway.
Maybe that was how the anger built up so quickly. Your fear turned into anger.
You were never angry at anyone in particular. You weren't even angry at your parents, the ones who caused you to feel like this in the first place.
No. You were angry at yourself. You were angry at yourself for being so weak and unable to defend yourself. You wanted to be tough. You wanted to have a voice.
But every time you were slapped in the mouth for it, you were reminded just how scared you really were.
You weren't brave. You never would be.
You would always be angry and unsure and afraid, and you couldn't do anything about it.
Soon, you learned that it was better to be around your new group than your parents. You probably should've known it from the start, but you were just confused at first.
As time went on, the group was a bit more strict on each other. You remained quiet, as always, but you did try to comfort your other members when Chan scolded them. Even though you knew they were intimidated by him, you could tell he was only doing it out of love. He just wanted everyone to succeed, and if that meant being a bit harsher to get his point across, then so be it.
You did notice that you had an attitude sometimes, though, even when you didn't mean to.
Your attitude became especially bad when Felix, a boy from Australia, joined the group in early 2017, just a few months after you.
You weren't trying to be rude, but the way he constantly tried talking to you threw you off. He was so patient, too. You always had your guard up, and when he made it falter, you felt... odd. You felt weak. You felt like you were gonna be ripped apart the second you tried trusting him.
So, instead, you shielded yourself by coming off as more hostile. You weren't outright rude to him, but you did try to send the message that you didn't want him around you.
You had pushed others away since you were a kid. Hell, your parents were the ones who taught you to do it in the first place. They were the first ones you pushed away emotionally, and it honestly prevented some of the major heartbreak you would have experienced later on. Their insults stung less. Their words meant nothing as time went on.
So, you tried to do the same with Felix. He was just too nice. You weren't just trying to protect yourself. You were trying to protect him as well. You didn't want to say something that you would regret later on.
But you still did. You said so much more than you ever meant to, and it was mean.
Felix tried talking to you around a month after he had joined, and despite knowing how timid and rough you could be, he still tried to approach you. It was kinda like a kind stranger with a scared stray animal on the streets.
You tried brushing him off, focusing extra hard on whatever task you had at hand just so you didn't have to speak to him.
But you could tell he wouldn't back off. He just kept trying to speak to you, his voice soft.
Despite how soft his voice was, it felt like a constant nagging jab. Why wouldn't he just leave you the hell alone? You were trying to be nice about it.
So, you took the next opportunity you could.
You knew it was wrong as soon as you even thought about it, but you were so defensive that you didn't even see past your own rude thought process.
When he fumbled a third time with his Korean while trying to speak to you, you took the chance.
"If you can't even speak properly, why are you trying to talk to me?"
And although he couldn't speak fluently, he understood. He understood that sentence fully, especially since it wasn't a bunch of complex words. It was simple Korean.
The question sounded almost innocent and joke-like. Almost.
But the way you said it was the main giveaway, plus your body language. The way you looked him up and down, the expression on your face... it was all a sign that you didn't want him near you. You didn't want him trying to communicate with you whatsoever.
The problem wasn't his Korean. You truly didn't care. It was just something you could jab at so he would get the hint.
And it worked a little too well.
The way his face dropped made you swallow nervously as your chest tightened. Your heart pounded, and gosh, you felt so guilty in that moment.
But you didn't know English, and he wasn't fluent in Korean, so you didn't know how to explain to him that what you just said wasn't true. You meant to say it as a joke.
You knew you didn't, though. It was better to be cruel and honest than cruel and a liar.
For the next week or so, Felix avoided you almost entirely. Guilt clawed at you, but you were too scared to say anything, so you stayed back.
It brought you a sort of relief, though.
Well, until Chan confronted you.
Chan had noticed the distance and tension between you two, but he knew you probably wouldn't try to explain, or you wouldn't give the full details, so he asked Felix instead.
And when he heard what you said to Felix, he was already angry. He knew you were shy, but that was no excuse to act out the way you did. You'd be turning 15 in April, and it was March. You were old enough to know better than to say something so rude and dismissive.
So, he approached you that day after practice. You were just about ready to go home.
As soon as he said your name in that certain tone, your stomach dropped. It wasn't friendly or to catch your attention like it usually was. You knew that he was angry about something, and the worst part was that you knew exactly what it was about. You knew someone would tell him soon, and you knew that it was probably Felix.
So, you just tried to suck it up and prepare for what was next.
"Y/N, I need to talk to you for a few minutes before you leave, please. It's important," he explained.
So, you set your bag back down and let out a shaky breath before turning to him and nodding.
You two stepped off to the side, and he let out a sigh before beginning.
"Y/N, what is your problem? Why would you talk like that to Felix?"
Yup. There it was. The accountability.
"I - I just wanted- I just wanted him to leave me alone. He wouldn't stop trying to talk to me, so I thought it would be better to just try and get my point across-" you stammered, beginning to ramble nervously.
Chan sighed, and it was the heavy, annoyed type. You suddenly felt too ashamed to even be in his presence anymore.
"Y/N, you do understand that he's in an entirely different country, right? He's not used to this yet. He doesn't understand everything we say to him, but he understands enough to know what you said to him, which was very wrong of you, first of all," the older member continued, fiercely defending the younger boy.
"Secondly, your attitude has seriously become a problem. I don't know what kind of issues you have going on at home, but you need to keep them there. Don't bring them here. You'll just hurt more people."
Oh, wow. Ouch. Big, big ouch.
'I don't know what kind of issues you have going on at home, but you need to keep them there.'
Yeah. That one stung a little more than you liked to admit.
Was that how bad it stung to Felix when you spoke to him like that last week?
You bit your lip, shifting it between your teeth nervously as Chan thought about what to say next.
"If I hear you doing this again, especially to Felix, I swear, Y/N- you can't keep doing this. It's really immature of you. I get that you're the youngest, but you're old enough to know what to say and when to say it. Seriously, you need to-"
You cut him off without even realizing it.
"Of course you take his side."
Oh, shit. Wrong timing and words, Y/N. Great job.
The way his face dropped made you sick to your stomach.
"Oh, really? So you think I'm picking favorites by defending someone who can't do it themselves because they don't know how to fully speak your language yet? Really, Y/N? You're so fucking immature. Grow up," he spat.
"Like, actually, what is your issue? Why are you being such an asshole lately? Is it something going on at home? If it is, then please enlighten me," he continued, his voice almost having a bite to it.
The cursing and name-calling didn't hurt. In fact, it barely even fazed you. It only hurt because of how much he kept mentioning home.
You remained silent, but you nodded ever so slightly. It was something going on at home.
But how could you explain that?
Exactly. You couldn't.
So, you didn't.
"Yeah, it is, but I - I don't want to talk about it if you're just gonna keep weaponizing it," you stammered, voice cracking slightly as you walked over and picked your bag up.
You saw the way he froze and tried to process what you had just said, but you didn't want to stay and hear the apology he had, so you left before he could conjure one up.
You knew it would hurt him, but at this point, you didn't care. Why try to sit back and explain something to somebody who didn't understand?
Your night only got worse from there.
Apparently, since you had been having behavioral issues, the company spoke with your parents by sending them an email. JYP told them to keep it under control. This was your first warning, and they would only give you one more before disregarding you entirely.
And your parents... yeah, they weren't happy, to say the least.
The night ended in you icing your cheek and eye. Your lip was busted, too.
They weren't beating you for no reason, exactly. It was for a reason, technically.
But it didn't excuse the abuse. You knew that, yet you still tried to excuse it. You were being a brat, after all.
You deserved it, didn't you?
You deserved this after treating others so cruelly. You told yourself it was just karma.
You didn't deserve karma when you were younger, though, yet you still received it any time you acted up.
So was it discipline, karma, or abuse?
You fell asleep while thinking about what to call it. The next day, you were relieved to see that the bruising wasn't too obvious. Well, on your cheek, at least.
You had to cover up your eye with some cheap foundation that you had in your nightstand. It was just from the nearby convenience store, but it worked just fine.
Your lip was a different story, though. You would definitely have to hide that one a bit better.
You were a bit tense during practice, but you tried not to show it. Even as you remained distant from everyone else, they thought it was normal.
But you caught the way Felix glanced over at you with that certain look in his eyes. It looked like guilt.
He felt guilty for getting you scolded by Chan. You could tell. He always put others above himself.
This time, you embarrassed yourself. If it was embarrassing to Felix to say something in Korean, it was only right for you to say something back to him in English.
"Sorry. I'm sorry for- uhm- rude - rude words," you mumbled to him at the end of practice, accent thick.
You didn't look at him while you said it. Your eyes met the floor instead, too ashamed to look him in the eyes after being so rude to him last week.
He just smiled softly and nodded.
He forgave you, but you were still tense. It wasn't about Felix. It was about your parents. You weren't scared of Chan because of him scolding you. You were scared of who you were becoming.
You didn't want to be angry like your parents. You wanted to be different.
The way Chan kept mentioning home the other day really set something off in you, and you hated that you were like this. Something so simple, such a simple question, was enough to make you angry.
Your words apparently stuck to him, too, though.
After practice, when you were quietly packing your things up and preparing to leave again, he stopped you.
He felt the way your shoulder tensed when he gently grabbed it to get your attention. He thought that was odd, but then again, maybe he had just startled you.
You moved a bit quicker than usual, your hand not exactly rough but not soft either as you removed his from your shoulder.
"Don't touch me," you muttered in a nervous tone. It wasn't defensive like most people usually said it. You seemed scared to speak up.
He nodded and apologized, giving you some space before swallowing and making eye contact.
He noticed the darker color beneath your eye, but he didn't want to say it straight up, so he took a different approach. A more honest and gentle approach would probably make him seem less demanding or observational.
"Hey, uhm... about yesterday, I-I'm sorry about the way I acted. I was just trying to defend Felix, but I took it a bit too far. I shouldn't have called you all those names and cursed at you," he began.
You swore you could see the shame running through him.
"And I shouldn't have kept mentioning your home life either. That was immature on my part, and I'm sorry. But, Y/N, please - please just know that I'm here if you need someone to talk to, okay? If things really are bad at home, I promise I'll listen to you. You can trust me."
Trust him? You didn't even trust yourself most of the time. You couldn't name one person that you truly trusted besides yourself, and that was only sometimes.
So, you just nodded and thanked him softly.
"Seriously, Y/N. I mean it. I know I was rude the other day. We got off on the wrong foot. Please, if you need anything, I'm right here. Always," he continued.
You really let his words sink in that time. He could probably see the way your face shifted slightly as you really comprehended what he was saying.
He was there if you needed someone because he knew how rough it could be. He never meant to come off as rude. He was just trying to defend Felix. He would have defended you the same way if somebody treated you like that.
You let yourself trust him, but only a little bit. He was the leader, after all. It was pretty much your job to trust him anyway.
But as the months passed by, you found yourself trusting other people as well.
And honestly, you hated all of it. You didn't want to risk being vulnerable by letting them in or speaking too much and too openly.
By the time all eight of you debuted after some intense emotional moments and second chances, you were almost done with your sophomore year. You'd be turning 16 in the next few weeks.
Even after debuting, though, even after nearly a year and a half with these young men that you were familiar with, you found it difficult to trust any of them.
Sure, you apologized and stuck up for Felix when others mocked him just like you did.
Sure, you were soft and gentle when they needed it.
But you still had your guard up, especially since you now had to live with all of them. The company claimed that it would be too much of a hassle if anyone still lived with their parents, local or not.
You broke the news to your parents, and the way they reacted hurt more than anything they had ever said to you.
"Okay? Bye."
They didn't even care.
You weren't surprised, though.
You just went through your things, picking out only your most valued and important items to bring along. Anything that you hadn't interacted with or thought about for at least two months went to charity and thrift shops for free. You weren't too worried about the money.
By the time you were done, you could fit everything into a large suitcase. Most of it was just clothes since you only had two pairs of shoes, and you only had one stuffed animal that you actually valued since your old friend from school got you it during a field trip. Your hygiene materials didn't take up much space, plus you needed to go shopping again soon anyway.
You thought you would become more aggressive living with all eight boys at once. You thought they would get on your nerves so badly that you'd shut yourself out even more.
But, surprisingly, you didn't. If anything, you felt calmer.
And as your tough girl act melted away slightly, they noticed. All of them.
You helped around a lot, but you had always done that. You did it in odd ways, though. You showed your care through acts instead of words or physical affection.
For example, one time when Han got sick, you prepared him some ginger lemon tea and some light, healthy snacks for him, putting it all on a larger dish and then knocking on his door. When he opened it, no one was there, but the dish was.
He heard a door close, and he knew it was probably yours. Everyone else was already asleep.
When he brought it up in the morning, none of the guys owned up to it. You remained quiet, but he saw the way your cheeks heated up in embarrassment. He called you out without even having to say your name.
Another time, Chan was having a hard time. You knew how hard he was on himself all the time, and sometimes, he fell into these sort of depression episodes. He would tell himself he wasn't worthy and needed to work harder to prove something to himself.
So when you got home from practice and saw that no one else was there (well, except for Hyunjin, who was taking a nap), you decided to clean up his room.
It wasn't bad, but it was pretty disorganized, and some things needed sanitizing.
You didn't really move anything, but you did fold some of his clothes for him and made his bed all fluffy and perfect. You took the empty plastic bottles out of his room and dusted the small nightstand beside his bed.
Neither of you were clean freaks, but it was always nice to have a tidy space to come back to after working all day.
He came into your room that night and thanked you. You gave him a soft smile, and before you could say anything, he sat on your bed and stayed there for an extra five minutes. You two got to talking, but as soon as the topic began getting sensitive, you went blank.
He was talking about how homesick he got sometimes, but when he asked how you felt about home, you stopped talking and paused for a second before trying to change the subject. It was obvious that home wasn't always your safe space, if it ever was to begin with.
He decided to back off and leave your room, but not without giving you a hug. He saw the way you scooted away beneath your blankets awkwardly, but he told you that he knew you needed some affection. You never really got any, not because they never tried to give it to you, but because you always denied it.
But despite the way you became less tense around everyone, they still noticed your habits.
A big one of yours was flinching, especially when someone raised their voice or moved too suddenly. The way your entire mood would shift was really a big sign that something wasn't right with you. Chan began wondering if that was the reason you hated talking about home, even before debuting.
You didn't mind living with them, but you did constantly have your guard up. When you couldn't fall asleep at night, you'd just sit in your room and listen. You'd never leave, but you'd always just make sure everyone was safe before finally drifting off after 30 minutes or so.
That was another one of yours. Despite being the youngest, you were always super alert. You hated when any of them argued.
One time, you even mistook Seungmin and Felix's playing as a real argument, so you stayed in the next room and listened, unsure if you were supposed to leave or not. You knew that they would never hurt each other, but you were just used to keeping an eye out in case anything got too bad.
But when Han asked you about it the next day, you went quiet. You tried to explain that you were just trying to make sure neither of them took it too far, but the way he looked at you told you that he knew something was up with you. There was a reason you acted like this.
You tried to trust them. You really did.
It was just so difficult. It wasn't like you could just trust them after everything you had been taught as a kid. It wasn't that they were bad people. You knew they were kind and warm and gentle. You knew they were funny and loving and caring. You knew they were loyal. You knew that they would protect you and each other no matter what.
You knew it wasn't their fault. You blamed yourself, if anything. You thought it was dumb to feel this way after being away from your parents for a few months now. You thought you were just overreacting.
You tried not to think about it too hard, but jealousy flooded through you each day.
You envied the way they could connect with each other so easily. They were so gentle with each other, too. They never had to doubt or worry that they would be taken advantage of for their gentleness like you were as a child.
You weren't mad at them. You were mad at yourself. So, you blamed yourself again.
Then, insecurity began. You always compared yourself to the boys. Not exactly their appearances or bodies, but their skills and personalities. You wanted to be as radiant as Felix. You wanted to rap like Changbin and have vocals as good as Seungmin. You wanted to be good with words like Chan was when he wrote his lyrics.
But it never came to you. No matter how much you tried to change yourself, it never worked. No matter how much you blamed yourself and blamed yourself and blamed yourself... nothing ever happened. All it did was build more anger up inside of you.
You really tried to control your anger. You tried more than you used to, at least.
Everything just kept building, though. It was rapid, and you couldn't do anything to slow it.
The boys all saw how stressed you were. Your body language, your sudden silence and tension, the way you would try to avoid them, the way your fists clenched slightly anytime somebody talked to you a little more than you wanted... they were all signs. You weren't just angry. You were exhausted. And most of all, you were afraid.
You began arguing more. Any time you felt threatened, you'd turn to arguing. It wasn't because you were emotional, though. It wasn't because you wanted to be right, either. It was because arguing was what you were used to. Arguing was always the only thing that would get your point across. Being soft and gentle always resulted in name-calling, and your parents always told you to toughen up as soon as you showed any reaction.
You had kind of a shield, and if anybody broke past it, you would shove them right back out.
You were good at pushing people away. You were good at avoiding people. You were good at getting angry. You were good at holding onto things. You were good at remembering things. You were especially good at protecting yourself the way you knew how to.
You weren't good at communicating. You weren't good at being gentle. You weren't good at staying calm and trying to explain yourself. You weren't good at expressing yourself. You weren't good at accepting kindness. You weren't good at loving.
You weren't good at a lot of things, especially positive things. Maybe it was why you held so much resentment towards yourself for something that was engraved into you since you were young. You were set up, and you fell for it. Now, here you were at freshly 17, trying to fix yourself.
But you couldn't do it alone.
You tried to rush it. You tried way too hard to be gentle with yourself, and in the end, it only made you angrier with how weak you felt.
Why were you so soft? What the hell were you doing?
Why were you acting like this? Why couldn't you just be like your other members?
Why couldn't you just be normal?
The questions rang in your head. You didn't know how to silence them, so you let them eat away at you instead. Oh, well. You'd get used to it. You always did.
But the next day, when Han kept trying to interact with you after seeing how tense you were all week, his voice added to your own.
The questions began all over again, and then your own mind chimed in.
Just act normal.
Don't lash out.
Why can't you just be normal?
He's just trying to be nice. Don't be a bitch.
Quit being so rude, Y/N.
"Y/Nnie, come onnn! Speak to meee!" Han whined playfully, gently shaking you by the arm.
"Stop, Han," you mumbled, trying to sound playful as well. It didn't come out as that, though.
He paused and went quiet for a few seconds. He had been trying to get a reaction out of you for a couple of days now. It was usually at practice. Now, he was sitting in your bed, in your room, in your personal space.
Your heart raced. You felt like you wanted to throw up. You hated that he was this close to you. You hated that you weren't doing anything about it.
You weren't mad that he was trying to connect with you. You understood that part. You were just so fed up with everything, plus the physical exhaustion and tension you held on to felt like it was ripping you apart.
The question came back again.
Why couldn't you just be normal?
When Han kept touching you, you said in a more serious tone for him to stop. He listened that time, but not without a small frown. He wanted to have fun with you and try to give you some sort of affection.
You knew how clingy Han was. You didn't find it weird, just... new. Unusual. You weren't used to it.
You felt like your mind went blank as he kept speaking to you.
"Y/Nnie, please don't shut me out. Please? Let's just talk. I barely even know anything about you," he continued, taking a gentle approach.
"Good," you mumbled.
It wasn't much, but it was enough.
He stopped in his tracks. You swore you could see the anticipation in his face melt away just like that.
"Jisung, please. I - I don't want to do this right now. Just give me some time, and then I'll be ready. I swear," you mumbled.
You put your head in your hands as they began to shake slightly. You weren't angry. You were nervous. Your heart was already racing.
"You said that last week, Y/N. Please just let me in. Let one of us in. Let someone in. We're a group. We know it's hard to be away from your parents, but-"
"Stop talking about them! I don't- no! I don't miss them! I don't miss home!" you snapped.
You thought that would be the end of it, but the way you got up and walked toward the door made him try one more time.
"Why do you always do this? You act like I'm trying to be an rude when all I'm doing is trying to make you feel more welcomed, Y/N. You've been so stressed lately. Anytime someone tries to help you, it's like you shut down. Why can't we just-" Han defended himself, his own heart racing now.
"Stop fucking talking, Han! What do you not understand about the word 'no'?! Is it that hard for you to comprehend?! Seriously, is it?! I've said over and over for you to give me space, and you never listen. I get that you're all buddy-buddy with everyone else, but- just- fuck, man! Give me some time!" you immediately fired back, raising your voice slightly.
"I don't understand why you can't just-" you continued before you heard your door open.
You stopped and looked back to see who it was, and when you did, your stomach dropped.
It was Chan. He caught you losing your temper with someone... again. First, it was Felix. Now, it was Han. You had snapped at both of the boys who were practically the sunshines of the group.
You saw the disappointment in his eyes, and it made you sick. Why couldn't you just not break one simple rule?
You didn't even try to defend yourself this time. You just looked away from him in shame, hands wrapped around your sides. Your fingers squeezed into your skin, prodding at your ribs.
Han tried to stick up for you despite how badly you had just snapped at him. He knew that something was going on with you. Sure, he didn't like the fact that you got angry at him, but he tried to reason with you. He saw the signs that something wasn't right with you. He tried to understand you at least a little bit.
"Hyung, really, it's not- she didn't mean to," Han stammered, "I was just-"
"It's fine. Just step out for a second and let me talk to her, okay?" Chan replied, voice calm.
Han hesitated, but he knew that he couldn't argue, so he spared a glance at you before stepping out of your room, shutting the door softly behind him.
Chan waited until he heard Han walk away. He didn't want him listening in on the conversation between you two.
"Look at me."
Your heart hammered against your ribs.
"Y/N, look at me."
Your guts twisted in nervous anticipation.
When he stepped forward, you flinched back, mumbling a quick apology before obliging.
Your eyes were wide. Your hands moved from your sides to your forearms, squeezing the skin there to have something to hold.
He let out a sigh before speaking.
"What's going on?"
The question was simple, but it weighed down on you so heavily that it felt like it was crushing you. You stayed silent.
"You've been so tense lately. Have you been taking care of yourself? Is it us? Do you really need space?" he continued, trying to figure out what was going on with you.
He wanted to help, and you wanted to let him in. Really, you did. But something kept nagging at you. You felt like you couldn't trust anyone. They would use your vulnerability against you.
There were too many questions at once.
"I - I don't know," you mumbled, voice already breaking as your chest tightened.
You knew that wasn't really an answer, but what could you even say? You didn't want to expose yourself, but at the same time, it was the main reason you acted the way you did.
But you just had to open up. You were so tired of holding it all in.
"I just- my parents-" you stammered, sounding almost choked.
He didn't get angry or scoff. He didn't act annoyed or claimed you were being dramatic.
Instead, he was gentle.
"Here, come here. Let's sit on your bed, yeah? Let's talk. Come on," he said in a soft voice, gently grabbing your arm and leading you over to your bed, sitting down beside you.
"What about your parents? What happened?" he continued, keeping his hand slightly beside you so that you could grab it if you wanted to.
"They hate me, Chan," you sobbed, voice breaking as your eyes watered.
"Ever since I was a kid, I've just- it's never enough for them. Nobody's ever loved me," you finally exposed yourself.
His entire mood seemed to shift, but not in the angry way like your father's. Instead, he listened.
"I don't know how to just be normal. I'm always so angry, and I don't wanna say it's their fault, but- all the hitting and the yelling and the names, I just don't-" you continued, pausing to catch your breath.
You thought you were just catching your breath. In reality, you were hyperventilating. You weren't aware of it, but you were so terrified of speaking about and acting like your parents that it set you off entirely.
It took you a couple of minutes to calm down slightly, and you were eventually able to finish speaking.
"I guess I just never had the support I needed, and I always lash out at people for it. I - I don't mean to, but growing up, my parents never listened. They always argued, and if I didn't argue, they would just..." you paused, not wanting to say too much.
But Chan caught on. Of course he did. He always did. He wasn't the leader for no reason.
"Y/N, look at me. Please," he asked softly.
You did despite your embarrassment.
"I'm here to help you. I'm not telling anyone about this unless you want me to, or you do it yourself. Do you understand? I'm not here to judge you. I'm here so you don't have to go through everything alone like you have been," he reassured you, grabbing your attention again as soon as you broke eye contact.
"Are we clear? Can you trust me?"
The pit in your stomach remained.
He didn't rush your answer. He was patient.
After a few long seconds, you nodded, biting your lip to prevent a sob from escaping.
"I trust you," you mumbled, the words heavy on your tongue.
You felt like you were handing a stranger a loaded gun, which was strange. You had known him for so long now. You were so familiar with him, but you weren't. You weren't close with any of your other members.
He smiled and nodded.
"Can we talk about your parents then?" he asked, knowing it was the main thing you kept mentioning.
You nodded, letting out a small, shaky breath before taking in another one.
"Yeah. Yeah, we can do that, I guess," you replied.
Ten minutes went by.
You were tense at first, but each time you wanted to shut down, Chan reminded you that he was there, not to judge you, but to help. He wanted to see, hear, and most of all, understand.
Another ten minutes passed.
You had cried a couple of times by now. You were telling him all about the abuse your parents put you through ever since you were young. You told him how unlovable it made you feel. You told him how worthless you felt all the time, and you even asked him why he chose you in the first place. What did he even see in somebody like you?
And by the end of it, you were tired.
"But, uhm... I don't know. I just honestly wish I was able to... I guess... express myself better. I hate being angry, but nobody ever listens unless I yell and argue. That's the only thing I've ever grown up with. It's kinda hard to change once it's been so long," you finished off with a small shrug.
Chan looked upset now, too. Not because of you, but because of the realization that you weren't aggressive. You weren't angry all the time. You were just following what you were used to. You were trying to protect yourself.
You were so used to violence that it was basically the only thing you knew now.
So, he'd have to try a little harder. He'd have to be a little more patient.
He'd have to show you that love doesn't have to be scary, and it doesn't have to be earned either.
It was slow at first.
You tried to get used to affection, and it wasn't just physically. You tried to accept compliments without finding a problem with what they said. You tried arguing less and instead expressing yourself in a calmer manner. You tried to be kind to yourself.
It took a few weeks, but eventually, you got used to the hugs and compliments. They became more frequent as you adjusted.
You still had trouble with your temper and expressing yourself, though.
You even snapped at Chan one time, and you felt so guilty that you avoided him for the rest of the day. Instead of connecting with him like you usually did at night, you laid in your bed on your side, the blanket lazily thrown over you as you stared at the wall, promising you'd be better tomorrow.
But the isolation became more and more common.
Every time you felt yourself getting closer, you would rip yourself away. It wasn't because anyone was doing anything wrong. It was because you were terrified of them understanding you more. You didn't want them seeing you for who you really were. You needed to guard yourself.
As the months passed, though, the boys' patience never wavered.
Even Felix, Chan, and Han were gentle with you despite your past interactions with them.
Chan stayed by your side and gave you space when you needed it, but he never gave you enough to make you feel alone. He always reminded you that he was right there.
You didn't interact with Minho much, but he was one of the oldest, so he took it as his responsibility to give you a sense of security. He never discouraged any sort of affection. He never walked away when you tried to speak to him.
Changbin took every opportunity as a way to connect. He found what you both liked and tried to grow on those topics so you'd become more comfortable with talking to him and the group as a whole.
Hyunjin allowed you to be quiet, but not by yourself. He was always quiet with you. He'd always sit down right next to you after a long day, allowing you to lean your head on his shoulder as you watched what he sketched. Words weren't usually shared, but your trust was.
Han was extra patient with you. When you got into an episode of depression, isolation, anger, or anxiety, he wouldn't get angry and try to dismiss it. Even if you lost your temper, he never viewed you as angry. He didn't make you into an example. He didn't mock you. Instead, he loved you. He would even take you away from the other members to calm down for a bit if you needed it, but it was never to embarrass you or single you out. If anything, it was to help you feel more seen and, more importantly, heard.
Felix was the sweetest. Whenever you'd apologize repeatedly for the way you two used to interact with each other in your pre-debut years, he'd always tell you not to beat yourself up over it and that you were both kids. He always reassured you in the most gentle ways. He was the one who was constantly trying to initiate physical affection with you, and 9 times out of ten, it worked.
Seungmin teased you, but he went easier on you than the other members, not because you were soft or too sensitive, but because he wanted to give you a chance to strike back each time. He never wanted to make you feel trapped. He wanted you to feel free to express yourself no matter what.
Jeongin let you be vulnerable. You probably made the most mistakes around him because you felt safe enough. You never felt judged around him, and that was his goal. His biggest thing was that he wanted you to trust him. He wanted to be somebody that you could come to without having to second guess yourself.
And by the time you were 18, officially an adult, you had more freedom. You finally felt like you were worth something.
You still had a problem, though, and it ate at you more than you liked to admit.
You had trouble saying "I love you" to the boys.
Sounds silly, but it was something that dug deep into your heart.
Love was just such a big word, though. Love meant that you were deeply connected to somebody. You were meant to be. You trusted them with everything in you.
And you just... didn't. Not yet, at least.
But, again, the boys fixed that, too. They never left you hanging.
They would say it every day. All of them.
They'd give you space, obviously, but they'd also make sure you heard them say it. They'd make sure you knew that they meant it, too.
After a couple of months, the word love became lighter and lighter. When you thought of love, you weren't afraid. You were... warm. You were safe.
You were loved.
It took a while to truly accept it both personally and with the boys, but eventually, you believed it. Each time Han said that he loved you in that high voice of his, whining when you didn't hear him or say it back, you knew it was real. Every time Minho repeated it to annoy you until you said it back with a smile, you knew it was for a reason: because he loved you.
And as you kept growing, it was easier and easier to accept yourself. It became especially easy when you decided to block your parents' numbers at 19. If they didn't want you around, then they didn't deserve to contact you, either.
Because as the years went by, you realized something.
You had changed.
You had everything you needed right here.
You were loved.
But don't let that fool you. No matter what, you were still here. You were still real. You'd always get to thinking before bed, and it would hit you.
That girl is still deep down inside of me.
I bite.
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WHEWWWWW THIS TOOK FOREVAAAA BUT TBH I'M PRETTY HAPPY WITH HOW IT TURNED OUT!!!
WASSUP GUYSSS IT'S UR FAV GIRL WHO DOESN'T POST FOR MONTHS AND THEN SUDDENLY PULLS UP WITH AN ANGST FIC 😝
I RLLY RLLY HOPE U GUYS ENJOYED THISSS I KNOW I DEFINITELY DID WHILE WRITING IT <3
IM SOSOSOOOO SORRY FOR BEING GONE SO LONG OHMGOSH. LIFE GOT IN THE WAY SO BAD 😞‼️
BUT IM BACKCKCKCKCK JUST IN TIME FOR SUMMER AND HORRIBLE SLEEPING SCHEDULES 😛😛
THANK U ALL FOR UR SUPPORT, LOVE, LOYALTY, AND PATIENCE 🥹 IT TRULY MEANS SOSO MUCH TO ME LIKE U GUYS DON'T UNDERSTAND 🫶🏻🫶🏻
