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“ITS COLD” “what”

summary:A random text from an unknown number turns into weeks of late-night talks, dumb jokes, and way-too-honest confessions. What starts as a mistake slowly becomes routine — until meeting up in real life makes it obvious this was never “just” a wrong number.

changbin x reader

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a/n:HIII i’m so sorry for not posting for a few days i’ve been busy with exam stuff 😔 PLZ request something for me to write and also comment if u wanna be the first people on my taglist!

[Day 1]

Unknown:

Hyung, I’m outside. You better hurry before I freeze.

You:

Wrong number.

I don’t think I left you waiting anywhere.

Unknown:

…oh crap. My bad. Sorry.

You were about to put your phone down, when another buzz came.

Unknown:

Okay but in my defense… you replied. Which means you’re not too mad, right?

You:

Or I’m just polite.

Unknown:

Polite stranger. Nice.

That’s better than my actual friends.

You chuckled to yourself, already shaking your head at his audacity.

⸻

[Day 2]

Changbin:

So, stranger…

what’s your name?

You:

…you first.

Changbin:

Fair.

I’m Changbin. Not a creep.

Just someone with poor texting aim.

You:

Convincing introduction. I’m y/n

Changbin:

y/n…

okay, nice to meet you, accidental friend.

You:

I didn’t agree to friendship yet.

Changbin:

Too late.

You replied twice. That’s a binding contract.

You laughed out loud. Why was this actually fun?

⸻

[Day 3]

It was close to midnight when he messaged again.

Changbin:

You ever stay up even though you know you’ll regret it?

You:

Every single night.

Changbin:

Same. It’s like my brain refuses to shut up.

You:

What’s on your mind?

Changbin:

…honestly? That I’m texting a stranger at midnight like it’s normal

You:

you started it

Don’t blame me.

Changbin:

Okay, but you’re still here. So maybe you’re just as weird as me.

You:

Maybe

There was a pause. Then he sent a voice note—low and teasing.

“Just so you know, you’re not imagining me. I’m real.”

You replayed it twice before replying.

You:

…you sound more normal than I expected.

Changbin:

I’ll take that as a compliment.

⸻

[Day 5]

Your phone buzzed before your alarm.

Changbin:

Morning. Do you hit snooze a lot?

You:

…why are you like this at 7 AM?

Changbin:

Gotta make sure you don’t oversleep.

It’s my civic duty as your wrong-number buddy.

You:

I didn’t ask for a wake-up service.

Changbin:

“Too bad. It’s non-refundable.”

You:

Refund what? I didn’t pay for this.

Changbin:

Your attention. Priceless.

You groaned, but you were grinning into your pillow.

⸻

[Day 8]

Changbin:

Tell me something random about you

You:

Like what?

Changbin:

Anything.

Like… I bite straws without realizing it. That’s my random fact.

You:

…I read the last page of books first. Just to know how it ends.

Changbin:

WHAT. That’s chaos. That’s villain behavior.

You:

don’t judge me.

At least I don’t destroy straws.

Changbin:

…okay, fair. We’re both villains then.

Later, he added:

Changbin:

“Not gonna lie, talking to you is starting to feel less like a wrong number and more like…

I don’t know.

Something I needed.

You stared at the message longer than usual before replying.

You:

“Careful. That sounds like encouragement.

Changbin:

…good.

Because I want to keep talking to you.

⸻

[Day 10]

Changbin:

You ever wonder what someone’s voice sounds like before you hear it?

You:

…are you fishing for a compliment?

Changbin:

No, I’m saying you should call me. Just once. Curiosity sake.

You:

What if you sound disappointing?

Changbin:

Impossible. I sound like a Disney villain but hotter.

You laughed, covering your mouth even though no one was around.

You:

Fine.

One minute

You hit accept. His voice filled the line—deeper than expected, playful, warm.

“See? Not disappointing, right?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, smiling into the darkness of your room. “We’ll see.”

That “one minute” turned into an hour.

⸻

[Day 16]

Changbin:

You ever suddenly remember something embarrassing you did years ago and want to vanish?

You:

Literally all the time. What triggered you tonight?

Changbin:

…I once rapped at my middle school talent show. Forgot half the words and improvised something about cafeteria pizza. My mom recorded it.

You:

Please tell me you still have the video.

Changbin:

No way. It’s buried. Destroyed. Don’t ask.

You:

That means yes.

Changbin:

…maybe. But you’ll have to earn it.

You:

Oh? So you plan on sticking around long enough for me to earn it?

Changbin:

Yeah. I do.

⸻

[Day 18]

Changbin:

Be honest.

Are you the kind of person who leaves 27 tabs open on their browser?

You:

62, actually.

Changbin:

62?! What’s wrong with you??

You:

organization is for cowards.

Chaos makes life interesting

Changbin:

…I can’t believe I’m texting a criminal.

You:

And yet, you haven’t blocked me.

Changbin:

Because you’re entertaining. And… kind of addictive to talk to.

Your fingers hovered before you typed back:

You:

…addictive?

Changbin:

Yeah. Like if you stop replying, my day feels… emptier.

You swallowed hard, staring at the screen.

⸻

[Day 20]

Changbin:

Wake up. Don’t make me call and sing to you.

You:

…I’m awake.

Barely.

Changbin:

Lies. You sound half-dead.

You:

How do you know what I sound like right now?

Changbin:

Because I already know your patterns. You text slower when you’re still in bed.

You blinked, realizing he wasn’t wrong.

You:

Stalker

Changbin:

not stalker.

Observant.

You:

Sounds like the same thing.

Changbin:

fine. Observant stalker.

But only for you.

⸻

[Day 23]

It was past 1 a.m. when your phone buzzed.

Changbin:

You awake?

You:

Yeah. Can’t sleep.

Changbin:

same.

Mind if I…

vent a little?

You:

Go ahead

What followed was longer than any of his usual texts. He told you about pressure. Expectations. The fear of not being enough, even when he was working harder than anyone around him. He admitted he didn’t usually tell people these things—didn’t want to sound weak.

You read every word twice before replying.

You:

You don’t sound weak. You sound human. And for what it’s worth… you don’t have to carry it alone. Even if I’m just a stranger behind a screen, I’ll listen.

There was a long pause before his reply came.

Changbin:

…you’re not ‘just a stranger’ anymore.

⸻

[Day 26]

Changbin:

Okay, question.

If you had to describe yourself in three emojis, what would they be?

You:

🫠📚☕

Changbin:

…melting book coffee.

Makes sense.

You:

Your turn

Changbin:

💪🎶😏

You:

Muscles, music, and cockiness.

Checks out.

Changbin:

Cockiness?? No, that’s confidence.

You:

Sure

Changbin:

…you’re lucky I like your sarcasm.

You:

And you’re lucky I tolerate your ego

Changbin:

So we’re… lucky together, then?

⸻

[Day 30]

Changbin:

Not gonna lie… I think about meeting you more than I probably should.

You:

…what do you imagine?

Changbin:

You’ll laugh, but—just us sitting somewhere, talking like we already do. Except I get to see your face when you’re sarcastic. And maybe hear you laugh for real instead of just picturing it.

You stared at the message, heart thudding.

You:

…what if we don’t click in person?

Changbin:

Then we go back to texting. No pressure. But… I think we will. I feel like I already know you.

Silence stretched before you finally answered:

You:

…okay. Let’s meet.

Changbin:

Seriously?

You:

Yeah

Seriously.

Changbin:

…don’t blame me if I can’t stop smiling when I see you.

⸻

It had been almost a month of nonstop texting. Morning check-ins. Midnight confessions. Ridiculous debates about straws, browser tabs, and villain behavior.

And now, somehow, you were standing outside the café you’d both picked for your first meeting.

Your hands were clammy. Your brain kept whispering what if it’s awkward? What if it doesn’t feel the same?

Then a voice broke through your thoughts.

“y/n?”

You turned.

Changbin was there. Real. Not just a name lighting up your phone, not just a deep laugh in your ear at midnight. A little shorter than you’d imagined, broad-shouldered under a black hoodie, cap pulled low. But the grin—wide, slightly nervous—was exactly him.

“Hi,” you said, softer than you expected.

“Hi,” he echoed, shifting his weight before adding with a chuckle, “So… you’re the one who’s been terrorizing me with 62 browser tabs.”

That broke the tension instantly. You laughed, covering your face. “You remembered that?”

“Of course,” he said. “It’s one of your crimes. I keep a list.”

Inside the café, the air smelled of roasted beans and vanilla. You found a table in the corner, both of you pretending not to be overly aware of how surreal this felt.

“So…” you started, stirring your drink. “Am I what you imagined?”

He tilted his head, eyes flicking over your face, warm and direct. “You’re better. Which is kind of annoying.”

You snorted. “Why annoying?”

“Because now I have to try harder to impress you,” he said without missing a beat.

The boldness startled you—but it was softened by the way he fiddled with his sleeve right after, like he wasn’t sure if he’d gone too far.

You leaned your chin on your hand. “You don’t need to try. You already did.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—if anything, it felt like that pause between texts when you both knew what you wanted to say but weren’t sure if you should.

Finally, he leaned back, exhaling. “This is so weird. Not in a bad way. Just… I spent weeks imagining this exact moment, and now it’s real. And it’s better.”

You smiled. “I was nervous too. Thought maybe we’d lose what we had over text.”

“Are you kidding?” His laugh was low, genuine. “This feels the same. Just… now I get to hear you laugh for real. And see your face when you’re sarcastic.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “You sound way too sentimental for someone who calls themselves cocky.”

He grinned, leaning forward. “Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

Time slipped away. You talked the way you always did—bantering, teasing, slipping into deeper things without meaning to. Only now, there were glances that lingered a beat too long, smiles that curved softer at the edges.

When you finally stepped outside, the evening had deepened into cool twilight. You walked side by side, close enough for your sleeves to brush.

At the corner, where you’d have to part, Changbin hesitated. “Hey… can I admit something?”

You turned to him. “Sure.”

“I almost didn’t send that first text,” he said. “Thought you’d ignore me. Or block me. But now… I can’t imagine not knowing you.”

Your chest tightened. “Good thing you hit send then.”

His grin returned, shy but radiant. “Yeah. Best wrong number I ever dialed.”

For a moment, you thought he might hug you—but instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Text me when you get home?”

You smiled, stepping back toward your bus stop. “You’d text me first anyway.”

“True,” he admitted, and the sound of his laugh followed you down the street.

⸻

That night, your phone buzzed.

Changbin:

Made it home.

You:

told you you’d text first.

Changbin:

Yeah, but you didn’t see me grinning like an idiot on the way back.

You:

…same.

Changbin:

So… round two sometime?

⸻

[Day 33]

Changbin:

What’s your opinion on walks at night? Dangerous or magical?

You:

Both. Depends on the company.

Changbin:

…what if the company is a charming stranger who raps about cafeteria pizza?

You:

Then magical. Barely.

Changbin:

Cool. Because I’m picking you up tomorrow.

⸻

It was cold but not unbearable. The streets glowed with soft orange lamps as you and Changbin strolled side by side, hands stuffed in pockets.

He kicked a pebble along the pavement, glancing at you. “You know, I used to do this with friends all the time. Just… wander. No plan. Feels nice.”

You smiled. “Feels familiar. Comfortable.”

He nodded, lips quirking. “Yeah. That’s the word. Comfortable.”

At one point, you passed a small bakery, its windows fogged up. Changbin stopped to peek in. “Next time, we’re getting pastries here. No argument.”

You laughed. “Who says there’ll be a next time?”

He shot you a look, playful but soft. “I do.”

⸻

[Day 36]

Changbin:

I think my dog misses you.

You:

Your dog has never met me.

Changbin:

Exactly. He told me he feels left out.

You:

…you’re insane.

Changbin:

But admit it—you kinda want to meet him now.

You:

…maybe.

Changbin:

Perfect. He approves of you already.

⸻

A few days later, he suggested the park you’d once mentioned.

When you arrived, Changbin was already there, sitting on a bench with a bag of snacks. He waved you over, grinning

“You came prepared,” you said, sitting beside him.

“I did my research,” he replied. “You’re a snacker. I can’t show up empty-handed.”

The conversation started silly—debating which snack was superior—but somewhere between laughter and quiet pauses, it shifted.

“Sometimes,” he said suddenly, eyes on the trees, “I wonder if I would’ve met you anyway. Like… if the wrong number hadn’t happened, would the universe have found another way?”

You turned, caught off guard by the softness in his voice.

“That’s oddly deep for someone eating chips,” you teased gently.

He laughed, then grew serious again. “I’m glad it happened. Whatever it was. Because now I get to sit here with you.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just smiled, and that seemed enough for him.

⸻

[Day 40]

Changbin:

Confession: I wrote something about you today.

You:

…like what?

Changbin:

Lyrics. Don’t freak out. Just—sometimes you inspire stuff.

You:

…now I’m curious.

Changbin:

Curiosity granted. Next meetup, I’ll show you.

⸻

When he invited you to his music space, you weren’t sure what to expect. The room was cluttered, full of cables, notebooks, and half-empty coffee cups.

“Don’t judge,” he said sheepishly. “Creative chaos.”

He played you a track—heavy beats layered under words that were sharp but also strangely vulnerable. Some of the lines were about feeling lost, about finding someone who steadied him.

When the song ended, silence filled the room.

“That’s… beautiful,” you said softly. “And you’re telling me I inspired that?”

He shrugged, but his ears were pink. “Yeah. You did.”

For once, Changbin didn’t hide behind jokes or cockiness. His voice was low, certain:

“I like you. More than just a wrong number. More than just texting.”

Your chest ached, in the best way. “Good. Because I like you too.”

His grin split wide, disbelief and joy mixed in one. “Guess it wasn’t such a wrong number after all.”

@hannieworld101 est 2025