in a world of soulmates, how will you find all 8 of yours? will they accept you despite your flaws?
playlist
status: completed
pairing: poly ot8 skz x disabled!reader
genre: romance, angst, comedy, fluff, slice of life, college au, sns/social media au, soulmate au
warnings: mentions of drunk driving, mentions of police, explicit language, mentions of medical settings, depictions of trauma/trauma responses, blood/gore, implications of a suicide attempt (dw everyone is fine its a misunderstanding)
It wasn't fun, or great or any of the things I said. I was lying through my teeth because you were so happy. I may be miserable, but I can't ruin this for you. Go dance. I'll laugh on the sidelines like a good friend should. Please believe me. I'm having fun. I'll be fine.
in a world of soulmates, how will you find all 8 of yours? will they accept you despite your flaws?
you hate hospitals. the white walls drive you insane, the scent of disinfectant burns your sinuses, and you especially hate how everyone tries to hide the depressing atmosphere with fake smiles and sympathy.
your eyes blink open to those stale walls you despise so much, fingers twitching under the weight of a hand. you shift your gaze to a head of blonde hair snoring softly beside you, watching chan’s chest rise and fall with each sleepy breath. you find yourself wondering what it would be like to feel his chest beneath you in an afternoon nap before its knocked out of your head by the throbbing pain thats there.
“oh, your awake,” a voice quietly says from the doorway. a nurse moves to your bedside, their hands busying themselves with checking your chart and vitals. “do you remember what happened?” they inquire, voice soft in that fake comfort you hate.
a hand comes up to your forehead and you rack your scrambled brain for a moment before nodding, “i was getting myself into my wheelchair after a bath and i slipped and fell.”
they nod in understanding before they explain, “you cracked your skull on your bathroom counter. we were able to fix it and stitch you back up, but you do have a concussion, so no screens for a few days. do you have a nurse’s aid to help you at home?”
“i do,” you confirm, “but it’s hit or miss if she shows up.”
your nurse’s lips twitch downwards for a brief moment before they continue, “we should be able to discharge you here in an hour or two, okay, hun?”
you nod in understanding, a pang of guilt hitting your heart for a moment. a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding exits your lungs once your nurse leaves the room, eyes flicking over to chan again. maybe it’s the concussion, maybe it’s the guilt, but you free your hand from chan’s grip on it and place it in his hair. your fingers rub circles absentmindedly into his scalp as you stare blankly ahead of you, deep in thought even with a scrambled brain. your bottom lip is quickly worried between your teeth with mixed emotions.
you feel guilty at ignoring your Stray Kids for the past few weeks. you’ve put them through the ringer emotionally, would they even want you now? wait, what changed your mind? maybe the concussion is what changed your feelings towards them. maybe it’s the obvious care they’ve shown you despite your recent actions. you should talk to chan first. but, what would you do if he didn’t want to talk to you? oh, god, could you handle that right now?
‘you think too much,’ seungmin’s thoughts suddenly cut through yours, but you find a bit of comfort in his words. then you realize those words were said aloud as well when you feel chan’s eyes on you.
you release your now swollen lip from your teeth, licking the area nervously, “i… i guess.”
chan takes a moment to stretch out his limbs - likely cramped from being hunched over your hospital bed - before looking at you properly. he can see the guilt on your face as you stare at your hands.
“yn,” the pain in chan’s voice only hurts your heart more, “i know this is hard for you and maybe…” he takes a shakey breath. “maybe this isn’t what you want, but not offering us any answers as to why you don’t want to be around us, to whats going through your head, that’s not fair to us. i can’t hear your thoughts the way seungmin can, so i need to know where your head is at.”
the silence between the two of you stretches out for what feels like hours before you lift your head to look at him. really look at him. his bleached hair is messy in a way that makes it clear he’s been running his hands through it, his eyes are deep with wisdom you didn’t think someone his age could carry. you could get lost in those pools of chocolate irises and you do. you feel like you could say every anxiety you’ve ever had and his long lashes would bat them away with unspoken words of advice.
yeah, you’re definitely concussed.
“i just don’t want you to reject me because i’m broken,” you manage out, tears threatening to appear in your eyes, “i don’t want to be useless to everyone because i can’t walk anymore. i don’t want to be tossed aside and pitied because someone else made a bad decision and i got their consequences. i just want to be loved and seen for who i am and not my accident.”
chan softens at your confession, a soft hand moving to wipe away the tears starting to streak down your cheeks. “yn, you’re not broken,” he comforts, “just because you’re in a wheelchair doesn’t mean you can’t be loved.”
your heart skips a beat at the australlian’s words, a choked sob leaving your lips. maybe this is why you’re soulmates. he seems to know the words you need to hear like its second nature to him.
chan is quick to sit up on your hospital bed with you and place your head against his chest. he’s careful not to place the stitching on your temple against the soft sweater he wore while you sob into it.
“i’m sorry,” you sob, “i’m sorry for going radio silent on you. i’m sorry for running away… i just don’t want to be a burden.”
“you’re not a burden,” chan whispers in your ear, eyes now wet as well, “we see you. we see you and we want to give you the love you deserve. you just have to let us, yeah?”
“okay,” you sniff, drying your eyes on the back of your hands, “okay… i’ll try.”
chan pats your head with a nod, using his other hand to wipe his own tears, “now, i’m gonna go find junhan and jooyeon. minho is in another room since they had to sedate him while you were in surgery. we’re gonna get you discharged and then i’m going to take you home, okay?“
you bark out a laugh, “what? you don’t trust jooyeon to get me home?”
“if i’m being honest, yn, his whole diy set up with your wheelchair makes me nervous,” chan admits.
