This Is Sooo Bad I Was Writing Fluff Fic About Binnie Then I'll See This??????? TT

this is sooo bad i was writing fluff fic about binnie then i'll see this??????? TT

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I dont know if im still doing it right but it kinda hurt me making alternative endings🤧. Maybe ill write a chapter where she chooses no one or she choose all??? Is that possible

Blue Sticky Note

straykids fic wherein a mysterious note confession appears in your binder. Unsure of who left it, you embark on an investigation among your eight close friends, each with their own quirks and possibilities.

genre: Fluff. and fluff

ot8 x reader! stray kids x reader!! word count: 3.3k

AN: i want to make a fic with multiple members in it but i might make more of it after i finished all individual members. btw can you teach me how tumblr works? i might pin a masterlist soon hehe

You just got back to your apartment after a long day of classes. Exhausted from wrestling with numbers and equations, you flopped down on your bed and closed your eyes.

But your moment of peace was interrupted by the sudden ringing of your phone.

“Hey,” your friend Seungmin’s voice greeted you through the speaker.

Used to how he always greeted you, you sighed and listened as he continued, your tiredness making it hard to focus.

“You didn’t turn in your literature assignment. I’m on my way to your building,” he said, causing you to bolt upright in surprise.

You had forgotten to give it to him during class earlier. Glad he reminded you. And you were glad to be friends with him because he was the class representative. You enjoyed a lot of benefits from being his friend.

“Okay, thanks for the reminder. No need to come up—I’ll meet you downstairs,” you replied before ending the call.

Grateful for Seungmin’s help, you quickly gathered your things and checked your binder for the assignment. You sighed in relief when you found it. “I thought I lost you.”

As you were about to close your binder, a flash of blue caught your eye. A blue sticky note on the front page—one that you definitely didn’t own.

You pulled it out and read the message, which made your heart skip a beat: “I like you. But i you only see me as a friend.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d received a confession, but this note felt different. There was a mystery to it that intrigued you.

Confusion swirled in your mind as you tried to piece together who might have left this note. The message was neatly written in capital letters, offering no clues about the writer's identity.

Who could it be?

You had a lot of friends, but who might have done this?

You had male friends, all of whom felt like brothers to you. Could it be one of them? But they were like family.

The note was a sweet but outdated way to confess—charming in its own way but not something you’d expect from anyone in particular. You read it again and again, hoping to find a hint about who it might be from. But aside from the neat handwriting on a blue sticky note, you found nothing.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. You immediately sprang out of bed, remembering Seungmin.

“I’m sorry,” you said, peeking through the door.

“It’s okay,” he smiled reassuringly. “I know you were tired, so I decided to come up.”

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, quickly picking up some clothes that were strewn on the floor. You grabbed your assignment and saw the sticky note again, hastily hiding it by placing a book on top.

As you handed over your paper, you decided to test the waters, curious about who the note could be from. “Do you own any sticky notes?” you asked casually.

Seungmin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“I was taking notes and thought I might need some,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You have plenty already,” he said, gesturing to the stack of colorful sticky notes on your study table. “And no, I don’t have any. I keep running out of them. I should buy more.”

He glanced at his watch and then looked back at you, his eyes full of concern. “I should go now. You should continue resting, and don’t forget to eat.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. President,” you said, a playful tone in your voice.

“No problem. Take care and always lock your doors. Bye, see you tomorrow.”

Before he left, Seungmin ruffled your hair affectionately.

As the door closed behind him, you found yourself staring at the sticky note again, your mind racing. If it was Seungmin who left the note, did he feel that way about you? His caring nature and playful attitude seemed to match the tone of the note, but could he really be the one?

Then again, what if it wasn’t him? You couldn’t jump to conclusions based solely on a sticky note.

You took a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts aside. Until you had more evidence, you couldn’t be certain. You needed to consider all possibilities before drawing any conclusions.

Sticky notes and neat penmanship alone weren’t enough to figure out who left the note. Everyone in your class had decent handwriting, and blue sticky notes were too common to offer any real clue. They were practically identical—anyone could have bought them. It wasn't unique, not even close.

So who could it be?

"What are you thinking about?"

You were lost in thought when a voice pulled you back to reality. You looked up to see who it was.

"Uh, nothing," you replied, somewhat startled.

It was Changbin.

He was a friend of yours, though vastly different from Seungmin. If Seungmin was a green flag, then Changbin was the complete opposite—a walking red flag who had a reputation for playing with people’s hearts.

"Let me copy your physics assignment," he demanded more than asked, flashing you a grin that was both charming and mischievous.

Changbin had that bad-boy aura, and you sometimes wondered how you two even became friends. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t be the one who left that sticky note in your binder. When Changbin liked someone, he didn’t shy away from telling them directly. He would flirt openly, not leave anonymous notes.

So no, it wasn’t him.

"Why should I?" you replied nonchalantly. You were used to his antics, which might be one of the reasons why you were friends.

"Because I’m cute, and after class, I’ll buy you your favorite toothpaste-flavored ice cream," he teased.

"It’s not toothpaste! It’s mint chocolate!" you corrected, rolling your eyes.

"My bad," he smirked, unfazed. "Now, let me copy."

Too tired to argue further, you handed him your assignment. Changbin eagerly started copying, his focus entirely on the task at hand.

As you watched him scribble down your answers, you noticed his messy handwriting. There was no way it could have been him—the note’s handwriting was neat and careful, the opposite of his chaotic scrawl.

"You really have terrible handwriting. What are you, a kid? It looks like a storm blew through it," you teased, watching him.

"If I had more time, I could make it look like it was printed with a font," he shot back, not looking up. "But since the prof will be here in a few minutes, I don’t care what you say. Now, shush."

You let him finish copying, trying not to overthink the situation again, when suddenly he pulled out a blue sticky note from his bag.

"I almost forgot to give this to you," he said, handing it to you slowly. "It’s the address for the party this weekend. You should come. If I don’t see even a glimpse of you, I won’t enjoy it."

Surprised, you stared at the sticky note in his hand. It was the same color and size as the one you found in your binder. Why would he have this?

Seeing that you weren’t taking it, he grinned mischievously and stuck it to your forehead, laughing at your shocked expression.

Could it be him?

But…

You glanced at the two sticky notes in your hand, comparing them as you strolled through the expansive university yard.

Confessing like this wasn’t his style.

So it couldn’t be, right?

But the sticky notes were identical—the same length, the same height. Plain as they were, they were unmistakably the same.

Yet, you remembered how he would laugh if he knew someone confessed like this. He’d call it plain, boring, and probably mock the person as weak.

You shook off the thought, placing the sticky notes back in your binder and hugging it to your chest, forcing your mind to focus on your lessons.

"Hey, monkey!" You halted mid-step, rolling your eyes at the familiar voice and nickname.

"What?" you snapped, turning to face him.

"So you really accept now that you’re a monkey?" he teased, laughing. It was Minho.

Your friend (well, sort of?). In your group, you were like a cat and dog—he was the cat, and according to him, you were the dog because your face reminded him of one.

Despite the constant teasing, you appreciated how he looked out for you and was always there when you needed him.

But what did he just say?

"I'm not in the mood to fight with you," you muttered. On a normal day, you would have started bickering with him, refusing to back down until he surrendered (yes, like kids). "What are you, a chicken?"

"Oh, you noticed my hair. Do you like it?" he winked.

"You look like a rooster." His hair was dyed orange, and although he didn’t look like a rooster, you wanted to get back at him.

"That's better than being a monkey," he grinned.

"Crazy."

The two of you walked together, talking about random things with the usual bickering sprinkled in. Then, you remembered the sticky note. You knew it wasn’t from him because, well, why would it be?

Still, you decided to show it to him.

"Who do you think did this?" you asked, handing him the note.

He read it aloud, the words dripping with sarcasm, "That’s the cringiest thing I’ve ever read in my whole life."

Just as you expected.

"You shouldn’t say that! He must’ve gathered a lot of courage to do this."

"Why wouldn’t he just tell you in person? Is he weak?" Minho scoffed, lowering his voice when he saw you weren’t amused.

"Maybe he didn’t want to ruin our friendship."

"Then he shouldn’t have liked you in the first place."

"Can we control our feelings? It’s hard, you know!" You rolled your eyes. "Why am I even telling you this? You don’t understand anything," you mumbled, though loud enough for him to hear. "Anyway, I should go. I have something to do at the library."

"I like you."

You froze in your tracks at his words.

"That’s what he should do! It’s really easy, you know," he said, smirking before suddenly sprinting off in the opposite direction.

What was that?

Confused by Minho's words, you made your way to the library, replaying the conversation in your mind.

"What was that? Does he like me, or was he just using it as an example?"

You tried to shrug off the thought as you arrived at the library. The familiar scent of books enveloped you, a comforting distraction.

At the librarian's desk, you spotted Han, your friend who worked there as a student assistant.

"Oh, what brings you here?" he greeted you with a smile, lowering his voice in contrast to Minho’s usual volume.

"Hello. I’m returning this book." You handed him the physics book you had been hugging to your chest.

"Already? Are you sure you’re done with it? It’s okay if you missed the deadline. You know I can always talk to the senior librarian for you," Han offered, his tone warm and reassuring.

If you were to consider another suspect in your mystery investigation, Han would be a possibility. You’d never questioned how he took care of you before, but now, as you tried to solve this puzzle, you began to wonder.

Could he like you?

Or were you just overthinking things?

No, you shouldn’t read too much into Han’s actions. Like Seungmin, he was someone who genuinely cared for the people he loved.

"No, it’s okay. I’m done with it. Thank you, Han. And thanks for the offer—I might take you up on that one day and maybe never return the book," you joked, earning a laugh from him.

"Now I should go. I need to meet Hyunjin—he asked me for a favor."

"Sure! Take care!"

"Thanks. You too."

As you left the library, you felt a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. Turning around, you saw Han, slightly out of breath.

"Hey, was this yours? You forgot it," he said, handing you the sticky note.

You didn’t know how it ended up with him, but you quickly took it and placed it in your binder.

"Oh, thanks."

"No worries. That was a cute confession," he said, still catching his breath, then laughed. "I should get back—lots of work to do."

You nodded, watching as he returned to the library.

A question formed in your mind: Was it Han?

Why didn’t he ask who wrote it?

Why wasn’t he curious?

But then, he did ask if it was yours, as if he didn’t know.

So maybe… it wasn’t him.

"You literally owe me for this one," you whined, though you knew you didn’t have much of a choice as you glanced at your friend Hyunjin, a med student with an ever-present smile.

"Yes, I promise I'll buy you whatever you want," he said, clasping his hands together in gratitude, his eyes gleaming with a sincerity that made it hard to stay annoyed. You sighed, relenting, and extended your arm.

He needed a blood sample for one of his "you-don’t-know-the-details" assignments, and apparently, you were exactly what he needed.

Like a seasoned pro, he pricked the needle into your skin and attached a small hose to collect your blood. It wasn’t the first time you’d been his willing guinea pig, but you couldn’t say no to Hyunjin.

"Thank you," he said earnestly after he was done.

"Right. You should be thankful," you retorted with a mock glare, though you couldn’t help but smile when he laughed.

Hyunjin had the most stereotypical 'doctor-y' penmanship you’d ever seen—impossible to decipher, even as you watched him scribble something in his records.

"By the way, I left a note before in your binder," he said casually.

His words rang in your ears. "What note?"

He smirked, clearly enjoying the suspense. "A note about how you should remember to take the vitamins I gave you."

Oh.

Seeing you internalize his words, he added, "And I noticed another note in there." He adjusted his white coat, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "And I know who put it there."

You looked up at him, curiosity written all over your face as he towered over you.

"And you should find that out on your own," he teased, winking before walking away, leaving you with more questions than answers.

"Why’d you call me here?" Jeongin asked as he walked into the coffee shop, a guitar slung over his back.

"Because I promised to buy you coffee," you replied with a smile.

Jeongin was a year younger than you, a music major who could play practically any instrument, though piano was his favorite.

"Really? But I’m not craving coffee right now. You should buy me a meal. I’m hungry," he said, not even trying to be cute but somehow managing to be utterly adorable.

As per his request, the two of you headed to a nearby restaurant. You let him order whatever he wanted and watched as he dug into his food.

"You must’ve been really hungry," you remarked.

"I didn’t have lunch or dinner yet," he admitted between bites.

"You shouldn’t skip meals like that! Our bodies are our main investment. We need to take care of them," you scolded, playing the role of the older sibling.

"I know, Mom," he teased.

"Good son," you laughed.

"Are you going to Changbin’s party?" he asked after stuffing more food into his mouth. You took a sip of your strawberry latte, considering your answer.

"I don’t know. I’m kinda busy."

He got back to eating, and you hesitated, feeling a question bubbling up inside you. It felt awkward, but you knew you wouldn’t be at peace until you asked.

"Uh, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"You're already doing it," he said, his mouth still half-full.

"Let me finish!," you squinted at him. "This question is kinda weird, but…"

"Faster! I’m curious!" He leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Uh, do you know if anyone who’s close to us… erm…" You coughed, trying to find the right words. "…likes me? I mean, like, likes me?"

Jeongin looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "I don’t know who, but I know everyone loves you."

Well, that much was true—friendship came naturally with your group.

"And me too. I love you," he added casually.

"Aw, thank you. I love you too."

He didn’t reply, just smiled at you for a moment before turning back to his meal, leaving you with a warm feeling that was hard to shake.

"I'm so tired of that neighbor of mine!" Felix, a friend who lived three floors above you, burst into your apartment wearing pajamas and hugging his pillow.

"You can’t sleep again?" you asked, watching as he plopped down onto your sofa bed with a dramatic sigh.

"I don’t know what the hell he’s doing in the middle of the night! Was he doing construction or something?" he whined, making himself comfortable. "Oh, this is so comfortable. Let me crash here."

It wasn’t the first time he’d crashed at your place, so you were used to it. You didn’t mind at all.

"Did I bother you?" he asked, his head still buried in the pillow.

"Never."

"I should really move to this floor. It’s so peaceful."

"You could always move into my apartment and be my roommate," you suggested, a plan you’d considered before.

"No way. Someone might get angry."

"Who would that be?"

Felix didn’t answer, his silence leaving the question hanging in the air. You thought he might be teasing, but his continued silence suggested otherwise.

"And I don’t think I could handle living with you," he added.

"Why’s that?"

Once again, he didn’t respond.

"You should get some sleep. It’s past midnight," you said, heading toward your room.

As you were about to close the door, Felix called out, "I know about the blue sticky note in your binder."

You stopped in your tracks.

"Keep it, okay?" he said with a knowing smile before burying himself back into the pillow.

You wanted to ask more, but Felix seemed to be done with the conversation. With a curious mind, you went to bed, pondering over his cryptic words.

“Chan, did you really make this?” you asked, your voice brimming with excitement as you listened intently.

He nodded, a broad grin spreading across his face as he observed your reaction.

“This is the best music I’ve ever heard!” you exclaimed, pressing the earphones deeper into your ears.

“Oh, of course you’d say that because I’m your friend,” Chan said with a chuckle.

“No, I’m serious!” you replied, though you could only read his lips. The music’s high volume made it difficult to hear clearly. “This is amazing!”

“Yeah, that’s Han in the background and Changbin rapping.”

You bobbed your head along with the beats, completely immersed in the music Chan had created.

“Was Jeongin in it?” you asked, recognizing a familiar voice.

“Yes, and Hyunjin, Felix, Minho, and Seungmi—”

“This part is definitely Seungmin!” you shouted, and Chan laughed at your enthusiasm.

You continued listening, enjoying every note until the very last one, which was a soft piano melody.

“Wow, that was beautiful! I still can’t believe my friend created this. It’s a masterpiece.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s a great compliment from the person the song was inspired by,” Chan said with a knowing smile.

You didn’t catch that last part, too absorbed in the music to fully register his words.

“What’s the title of the song?” you asked, still in awe.

“Blue Sticky Note.”

The title made you stop dead in your tracks. Chan’s gaze lingered on you with an unreadable expression, as if he knew something you didn’t.

The realization hit you—the lyrics, the melody, everything about the song—

We’ve been friends for so long, shared laughter and tears, But there’s something more inside, I’ve held back for years. So I turned our feelings into a song, hoping you’d see, How much you mean to me, how much you mean to me.

Oh, blue sticky note, you’re my secret, my confession, Wrapped in notes and beats, my heart’s true expression. In every verse, in every line, it’s you I adore, From a simple blue sticky note to a melody I’m pouring out.

it was all connected to the note you had hidden in your binder.

part 2 here!

Hiiii!! I just wanted to say how much i LOVE the blue sticky note series!!! I only read the two parts thoooo, haven't read the endings yett!" BUT AHH IM SO EXCITED TO READ THEM I JUST HAD TO SEND THIS FIRST AHHH!! THANKYOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING IT!! I KNOW IM GOING TO ENJOY IT SO MUCHHH!! (Anyways thats all take caree!! And thankyou for the amazing fics!!!)

omg thankyou soo much i really love comments like this it keeps me going forward!! */sobs TT iloveyouu hope you will have a great day/night!!

I hate to admit

(bsn ending #3)

changbin x reader!! changbin x fem.reader!! word count: 2.5k

bsn alternative ending #3 wherein; changbin who can't believe that he falls in love with you, and do the dumbest thing he thought he would never do.

an: i love this.

an: i have alot of upcoming exam so maybe i would post some parts at the same time.

part 1! part 2!

At first, Changbin just wanted to tease you. It was like a game to him, a way to pass the time and keep things light. You had this way of reacting that was just too entertaining—your exaggerated eye rolls, the way you'd huff in mock annoyance, and then the inevitable laugh that would bubble up despite yourself. Changbin thrived on that; it made him feel like he had the upper hand, that he could easily get under your skin in the most harmless way.

It started innocently enough. You were just friends, and that’s all it was supposed to be. He loved the banter, the ease with which you two could go back and forth, trading playful insults and teasing each other about the smallest things. He loved how you’d get flustered when he pushed your buttons, and how you’d always try to get him back but never quite succeeded. It was fun, nothing more.

Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

But then, things started to change, even if he didn’t want to admit it. It wasn’t just about the teasing anymore. He started noticing little things about you—how your smile could light up a room, how you’d chew on your lip when you were thinking, how your laughter was the one sound he always wanted to hear, no matter how bad his day was going. He found himself looking forward to seeing you, to hearing what you’d say next, to feeling the warmth of your presence.

It didn’t hit him all at once. It was gradual, like a slow burn that he didn’t even realize was happening until it was too late. He started to notice how his heart would skip a beat when you were around, how he’d feel a strange sense of protectiveness whenever someone else got too close to you. He hated it. It didn’t make sense. You weren’t his type—at least, that’s what he kept telling himself. You were just his friend, nothing more. But no matter how much he tried to push those feelings away, they kept coming back, stronger and more persistent each time.

He told himself it was just a phase, that he’d get over it. But then there was that day, the day you cried in his arms. It was unexpected, and it shook him to his core. You weren’t the type to cry easily; you were strong, independent, always ready with a comeback. But seeing you like that, so vulnerable and in need of comfort, it did something to him. He held you close, whispering soothing words, and in that moment, he realized just how much he cared about you. Not just as a friend, but as something more.

That’s when it hit him—he wasn’t just having fun anymore. This was serious. He had feelings for you, feelings he had been trying to deny for so long. And he hated it. He hated how you were starting to become beautiful in his eyes, how you were becoming more important to him than anyone else. The girls he used to date, the ones he thought were perfect, suddenly seemed so superficial in comparison. You were different. You were real, and that scared him more than anything.

But there was no denying it now. The more time he spent with you, the deeper he fell. And that terrified him.

“I think I like her,” he finally admitted to Hyunjin one day, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared at the ground, unable to meet his friend’s eyes.

Hyunjin paused, blinking at Changbin like he'd just grown a second head. It was the first time Hyunjin had ever seen him look so vulnerable. Changbin, the tough guy who always had a snarky comeback, was bowing his head, almost as if he was ashamed.

Hyunjin snorted, trying to stifle his laughter. "Why do you look like you just admitted to committing a crime?" he teased, twirling a pen in his hand as he eyed Changbin with amusement.

"You don't understand," Changbin grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "She’s seen me with all those other girls. She probably thinks I'm a jerk."

"Well… you kind of are," Hyunjin said with a smirk, earning a glare from Changbin. "And besides, she’s your friend. Doesn’t that make it even more complicated?"

Changbin sighed, leaning back against the couch. "She deserves someone better. Someone who doesn’t have a track record like mine."

Hyunjin nodded thoughtfully before breaking into a mischievous grin. "You know who that is, right?"

Changbin frowned, not catching on to the joke. "Who?"

"Me," Hyunjin said with a cocky smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Changbin’s eyes widened in shock, and without thinking, he gave Hyunjin a playful shove. "Don’t tell me…"

Hyunjin just laughed, the kind of laugh that echoed with a challenge. "What? Scared of a little competition?"

Changbin rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. And just like that, the two of them were in a playful competition—both too stubborn to confess, both too proud to back down.

Changbin had never been one to second-guess himself, especially when it came to girls. But this time was different. For days, he had wrestled with the idea of confessing to you, feeling torn between his usual confident self and the unfamiliar vulnerability that came with liking someone genuinely.

It was a feeling that gnawed at him, a mix of excitement and fear that kept him up at night. He’d planned it out in his head a thousand times—how he’d approach you, what he’d say, and how he’d try to keep his cool. But every time he thought about it, his heart would race, and his words would get jumbled up in his mind.

Finally, one day, Changbin decided he couldn’t wait any longer. It was now or never. He’d confess to you, and he’d do it in a way that was both personal and meaningful—something that showed how much you meant to him.

But when the moment came, Changbin found himself sitting at his desk, staring down at a small blue sticky note. His heart pounded as he held the pen in his hand, trying to figure out the right words. He couldn’t believe he was doing this—writing a confession on a sticky note like some lovesick kid. It felt so unlike him, yet at the same time, it felt like the only way he could express what he was feeling.

“Love really does change you,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “It makes you a fool.”

The playboy who used to flirt with girls without a second thought was now reduced to sneaking around, trying to leave a secret note in your binder. It was almost laughable, but Changbin couldn’t deny the fluttering in his chest as he wrote down his confession.

He stared at the words for a long moment, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and anxiety. This was it—his feelings laid bare on a tiny piece of paper. He quickly folded the note and looked around the classroom, making sure no one was watching.

When you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, Changbin seized the opportunity. His heart raced as he sneaked over to your desk, his hands shaking slightly as he slipped the note into your binder. He quickly pulled back, almost as if the binder had burned him.

“It’s done,” he thought, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, though the nervousness still lingered in the pit of his stomach.

But just as he was about to head back to his seat, Seungmin walked in, his sharp eyes immediately noticing Changbin’s unusual behavior.

“What was that?” Seungmin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Changbin shot him a nonchalant look, trying to play it cool. “Mind your own business, puppy,” he replied with a smirk, using the nickname that always seemed to get under Seungmin’s skin.

But Seungmin wasn’t so easily fooled. He had known Changbin long enough to recognize when something was up, and the way Changbin was acting only made him more curious. His eyes narrowed as he watched Changbin walk back to his desk, the usually confident boy now looking slightly rattled.

Seungmin frowned, glancing towards your desk. Something about the whole situation didn’t sit right with him, and despite Changbin’s dismissive attitude, Seungmin couldn’t help but feel like there was more to this than met the eye.

Once Changbin’s back was turned, Seungmin casually strolled over to your desk, his curiosity getting the better of him. He knew he shouldn’t pry, but something was urging him to take a look. Slowly, he reached out and opened your binder, his heart pounding as he found the blue sticky note tucked inside.

As he unfolded it, Seungmin’s eyes widened in surprise. There, in Changbin’s unmistakable handwriting, was the confession. The words were simple but sincere, and Seungmin felt a strange mix of emotions swirling inside him. He knew Changbin cared about you, but seeing it written out like this made it all too real.

He took a deep breath, trying to process what he had just discovered. Changbin, the notorious playboy, was confessing to you. Seungmin couldn’t believe it, and yet, at the same time, it made perfect sense.

But as he was about to close the binder, something else caught his eye. There, in the back of your notebook, was a small drawing—a sketch of Changbin, with a heart drawn beside it. Seungmin’s heart sank as he stared at the drawing, the reality of the situation hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“They’re so childish,” he muttered under his breath, trying to brush off the pain he felt creeping into his chest. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, the truth was there, staring him in the face. He liked you too, and seeing this only made it harder to deny.

Seungmin quickly closed the binder, hiding the note and the drawing from sight. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He didn’t want to acknowledge the pang of jealousy that gnawed at him, or the fact that he might be losing you to Changbin.

As he walked back to his seat, Seungmin forced a smile, trying to act like nothing was wrong. But deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to change, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for it.

--

"Here is the toothpaste-flavored ice cream I promised you," Changbin said, shoving it into your hands with a playful grin.

You glared at him, giving him the most deadly look ever. "Why do you like this stuff? It’s like eating bubbles while you’re brushing your teeth," he teased, his face twisted in mock disgust, though you could see the laughter in his eyes.

Ignoring his teasing, you took a bite, savoring the cool minty flavor. "Why do you care? You even like pizzas with pineapples on top! Pineapples are pineapples!" you retorted, raising an eyebrow at him.

Changbin burst out laughing, "Pineapple on pizza is the best!"

"No, it’s not," you shot back, rolling your eyes.

"And mint chocolate chip ice cream is never," he countered, sticking his tongue out in disgust.

You pouted, shielding your ice cream protectively as if it had feelings. "Don’t talk like that right in front of my ice cream."

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he continued to tease you. The two of you were sitting on a bench, overlooking the vast field at your school. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over everything.

"There are indeed things that shouldn’t be put together," he said, his tone more serious now, "but others love it."

You nodded silently, sensing the shift in his mood.

"Everyone thought it was wrong, but for some, it was perfect," he continued, his voice softer, almost reflective.

You listened quietly, understanding what he was trying to say. "No matter what other people say, you don’t want to care. Because their opinions don’t matter," you added, your voice filled with quiet determination.

Changbin looked at you, and you looked back at him. A small smile tugged at his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile back. In that moment, everything felt simple and clear.

He hated to admit it, but he was really in love with you, deeper than he had ever expected.

-

When his birthday came around, you carefully packed the watch you had bought for him. It was special, not because it was expensive, but because it held a little secret—something only you knew about. Inside the box, you slipped in a small drawing you had made, along with a letter.

You arrived at the party, trying to feel happy, but the tension in the air made it hard. There were too many emotions swirling inside you—happiness, confusion, and a nagging sense of guilt. You didn’t know what to feel.

Before you could walk out, you handed Changbin his birthday gift, your heart pounding in your chest. He had planned to confess to you on his special day, but now, seeing the look in your eyes, he wasn’t sure what to do. So, he decided to give you some space.

After the party, when everyone had gone home, Changbin sat down and opened your gift. Inside, he found a watch. He already had many watches, but this one immediately became his favorite.

He thought that was all you had given him, but then he noticed a small piece of paper tucked inside the box. Curious, he unfolded it and found a drawing of himself, accompanied by a letter.

As he read the letter, his heart began to race.

"I wish you a happy birthday. I hope you have the best day…" the letter began.

Changbin suddenly sprang from his seat, grabbing his keys and jacket in a rush. He had to see you, and he had to see you now.

He hurried to his car.

"I hate to admit but this is a very lame way to confess…"

His eyes welled up with tears as he sped down the road, the overwhelming emotions threatening to spill over.

"…I like you… but I know you also see me as a friend."

You stood by the window of your apartment, feeling the cool evening breeze on your face. Your heart was heavy with all the emotions you had been holding back.

"and… I know you were the one who put the note,"

Just as you were about to turn away from the window, a knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat, and you knew who it was before you even opened the door.

It was Changbin.

You both hated to admit it, but you were both childish, caught up in your own fears and insecurities. But now, standing there in the doorway, all that mattered was the truth that had finally come to light.

--

em: i love this changbin. i cri. why no one chooses him btw TT

masterlist

How can i move on?

minho x reader x jisung!! han jisung x fem.reader x minho!! fluff and angst! word count: 3.5k

summary: How do you move on from your ex who hurt you? Jisung knows, but it seems you have another way.

an: this just enters my imaginary senses that i have to write it. enjoy btw. this is oneshot guys

“How are you?

Are you getting what you deserve?

You deserve love…

Love that will break you

Like how you broke mine!

You piece of—"

Your hands shook as you stared at the angry words on the screen of your computer, your heart pounding in your chest. The unfinished message to your ex-boyfriend, Minho, burned into your eyes. It felt good to type it, to imagine how he would react if he read it. But deep down, you knew you wouldn’t send it. You couldn’t.

Because even after all that he did… you still loved him.

“Ugh! You’re such an idiot!” you groaned, slamming your head down on your desk. How could you still have feelings for him, after everything he put you through?

But you had to get over it. You were determined to move on.

That is… until you found out Minho was now working in the same office as you.

Of all the places, why here? Why in your carefully built world, the one you’d managed to keep free from the wreckage of your relationship?

You clenched your fists, staring across the room as Minho moved effortlessly through the office, chatting with a couple of coworkers. His smile—that damn smile—was still the same, as if nothing had changed. As if your heart hadn’t shattered.

How could he look so unaffected? Did he not feel anything?

You quickly averted your gaze when his eyes met yours, the familiar smirk spreading across his face. It made your blood boil. You hated him, hated the way he made you feel so small and foolish. And the worst part? You hated how much you still cared.

You were done. Done with his games, his charm, his casual disregard for the pain he caused.

Done.

“Ready to leave already?” a voice interrupted your spiraling thoughts. You blinked and turned, realizing your coworker Jisung was standing beside your desk, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

You hadn’t even noticed that you had started packing your things.

“No,” you lied, dropping your bag and sitting back down. “Just… organizing.”

“Uh-huh,” Jisung said, his tone playful but knowing. He had been working next to you for a year, long enough to recognize when you were hiding something. “So, what’s the deal with you and the new guy?”

You stiffened, your eyes instinctively darting back to Minho, who was now stirring his coffee at the pantry. His eyes flickered toward you again, and that damn smirk appeared, as if he could sense the tension building inside you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you muttered, returning your attention to your computer screen.

“Sure.” Jisung laughed softly, but it wasn’t a mocking laugh. He could see right through you. “You always glare at people like that, right?”

Your cheeks heated as you turned to face him. “What do you mean by that?”

Jisung chuckled again, but his tone softened. “I’m just saying… If looks could kill, Minho would be in the hospital by now.”

Your lips twitched, but you fought back the smile. Jisung had always known how to defuse your temper, but you didn’t want to admit that he was right.

“You’re imagining things,” you muttered.

“Mhm,” he said, clearly unconvinced but too kind to press further. “Well, whatever it is… you should probably be careful. The last thing you need is for him to know he’s getting to you.”

You glanced at Jisung, surprised at his perceptiveness. He was right, of course. But it was easier said than done.

Minho had been your boyfriend for three years. Three long years where you thought you’d spend the rest of your life together. You had plans. You’d graduate, find your dream jobs, buy a place together, maybe get married one day… have kids, one girl who looks like you and one boy who looks also like you because that's what he wanted. It was everything you wanted and promised.

And then… he broke your heart. One stupid mistake, and everything you’d built came crumbling down. You couldn’t forgive him. Not after the betrayal.

Yet, here you were, still trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside you as you watched him now—calm, collected, and completely unfazed.

As if on cue, Minho approached your desk, holding a piece of paper. You felt a jolt of something deep inside—anger, hurt, and maybe a twinge of something more—something you hated yourself for feeling.

“Ms. Kim wanted you to do this,” Minho said casually, placing the paper on your desk. His voice was smooth, professional, but there was something in the way he looked at you. Like he was testing the waters, seeing how much he could push you.

You didn’t bother looking at him, simply nodding as you picked up the paper. “Okay.”

You kept your eyes on your computer, focusing on the task in front of you. But you could feel him still standing there, lingering. Waiting for… what? A reaction? An acknowledgment?

You refused to give him that satisfaction.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked suddenly, his voice softer now.

Your stomach twisted. He had asked you that so many times before, back when things were… different. When he cared.

Or when you thought he cared.

You didn’t answer, hoping he’d just walk away. But he stayed, his presence hovering over you like a storm cloud.

“Hey, you should eat this,” Jisung’s voice broke through the tension like a ray of sunshine. He appeared out of nowhere, placing a lunch box in front of you with a proud smile. “I know you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Thanks,” you said, forcing a smile. Relief washed over you as you took the box from him, grateful for the distraction.

Jisung turned to Minho, his smile widening. “Oh, hey! I didn’t realize you were here.” He extended his hand toward him. “I’m Jisung, by the way.”

Minho hesitated for a split second before shaking his hand. His expression was unreadable as he nodded but offered no introduction in return.

Jisung didn’t seem to mind. He flashed Minho a friendly smile before turning his attention back to you. “Enjoy your lunch.”

Minho stood there for another moment, his eyes flicking between you and Jisung before he finally turned and walked away.

The second he was gone, you let out a long breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Jisung shook his head and sat down next to you. “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing,” you muttered, still feeling the weight of Minho’s presence lingering in the air. “He just asked if I’d eaten.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t answer?”

“Of course not,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good.” Jisung patted your head affectionately. “You need to stay strong. Don’t let him get to you. If you ever need help moving on, you know I’ve got your back.”

You stared at Jisung for a moment, his offer unexpectedly lifting your spirits. “How?”

Jisung smirked, leaning in closer. “Oh, I’ve got my ways.”

-

It was another day for lunch break, and you were sitting in the cafeteria with Jisung, absentmindedly picking at your food. Your mind was elsewhere, swirling with thoughts of Minho. Ever since the news that he’d be attending tonight's team celebration, you hadn’t been able to focus.

“You look like you’re about to throw up,” Jisung commented, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth as he watched your expression closely. “You sure you’re okay?”

You sighed heavily, dropping your fork onto your plate. “It’s just… Minho,” you admitted, voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t know if I can handle seeing him tonight.”

Jisung’s brow furrowed, his chopsticks pausing mid-air. “You knew he’d be there. This isn’t new information."

“I know, I know,” you said quickly, “but every time I think about facing him, I just—” Your voice cracked, betraying your emotions. You hated how easily the mere thought of Minho affected you.

Jisung rolled his eyes, putting his chopsticks down with a soft clink. “Listen to me,” he said, leaning forward, his voice serious. “You need to show him that you’ve moved on. No more pining, no more sad looks. You need to act like you’re perfectly fine, like he doesn’t even exist in your world anymore.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Easier said than done.”

“I’m serious, " Jisung insisted, his gaze unwavering. “If you let him see that he still has an effect on you, you’ll never be able to move forward. You’ve got to play it cool. Laugh, smile, act normal. Show him you’re better off now.”

You bit your lip, the knot in your stomach tightening. Jisung made it sound so simple, but the thought of pretending like everything was fine when you were still hurting seemed impossible.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” you admitted, your voice small.

Jisung sighed, but his expression softened. “I know it’s hard, but trust me. If you show him that you’ve moved on, it’ll hurt him more than any words you could say.”

You glanced up at him, doubt lingering in your eyes. “And what if I haven’t moved on?”

There was a pause, the weight of your words settling between you both.

Jisung looked away for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. When he looked back at you, there was a flicker of pain in his eyes, but he covered it quickly with a reassuring smile. “Then fake it till you make it. Eventually, you’ll get there.”

You let out a heavy sigh, staring down at your untouched food. Jisung’s words rang true, but pretending to be unaffected by Minho felt like lying to yourself. Still, he was right. You couldn’t keep letting Minho control your emotions.

“Fine,” you muttered, pushing your plate away. “I’ll act normal. But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

Jisung grinned, his playful side coming through as he nudged your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”

-

Tonight was a team celebration.

The department head insisted on treating everyone to drinks. Normally, you would have declined, but when Jisung nudged you with a reassuring smile, saying he’d take care of you, it was impossible to say no. Your friends chimed in, encouraging you to join. You didn’t really have a choice.

As the night wore on, you found yourself getting drunk—drunker than you anticipated. The alcohol wasn’t strong enough to numb the ache you felt after seeing Minho again, though. Each glance in his direction reminded you of the past.

Jisung, who sat beside you, silently observed the way your expression shifted whenever Minho laughed or cracked a joke with your other female co-workers. You told yourself not to care, but it stung anyway, the memories too fresh. You couldn’t let him see that he still affected you, that you were still tethered to him by emotions you wished you could bury.

But as the alcohol coursed through your veins, your emotions began building up, dangerously close to overflowing. You fought the tears stinging your eyes.

Before a tear could slip, Jisung was on his feet. “I think it’s time for us to head out,” he announced to the group, his hand resting protectively on your shoulder.

You wanted to protest, but the words didn’t come. Jisung’s arm wrapped around you firmly as he led you outside, and once you were away from the loud chatter and clinking glasses, he finally let go.

The silence between you both was heavy. Without a word, he let you cry.

“I still love him,” you confessed, your voice trembling.

Jisung inhaled deeply, his gaze soft but filled with pain as he let you spill your heart out.

“Even after everything he’s done… I still love him,” you cried louder, your knees threatening to buckle under the weight of it all.

Jisung guided you to his car, gently supporting you while you vented, calling Minho a jerk, but then confessing how you still remembered the way he loved you—the way you loved each other.

“You know…” you said between sobs, “there was this one time, he rented out my favorite park for our anniversary. There were flowers everywhere, and in the center… there was this table. It was one of the most memorable moments of my life…”

Your voice trailed off, the memory twisting the knife deeper into your heart.

“I thought… I thought he was the one. I thought we’d get married, that we’d be together forever,” you said, and the fresh wave of tears spilled over as Jisung opened the passenger door for you. He guided you into the seat, gently fastening your seatbelt.

Before he could move away, you reached up, cupping his cheeks, holding him in place. His eyes widened in shock, unsure of what you were about to do.

“I wish… I wish I had fallen in love with you,” you whispered, voice raw with regret.

For a moment, you both just stared at each other. The world around you seemed to slow down, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

Jisung whispers your name, his voice cracking slightly.

Before he could finish, you closed the distance between you and kissed him. It was soft, hesitant at first, but the pain in your heart surged forward, and you kissed him harder, trying to drown out the lingering feelings for Minho.

Jisung froze for a split second, caught off guard by your actions. Then, he closed his eyes, kissing you back, but there was a hesitation in the way his lips moved against yours. His hands hovered near your shoulders, unsure whether to hold you or push you away.

It had become a pattern—getting drunk, crying over Minho, and kissing Jisung in the process, that end up you making out in his car. Jisung knew about Minho -- from the start, he

knew how much he still haunted you, and now, after seeing Minho in person, a deep fear settled within him.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. His eyes, still wide, searched yours for an explanation, for something to hold onto.

“Every time…” Jisung whispered, his voice trembling. “Every time you kiss me… I know it’s not really me you’re thinking about.”

The honesty in his words stung.

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes again. “I wish it was you…”

“I know,” he replied softly, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheek. “But it’s not. And it never will be, will it?”

You didn’t have the heart to answer him, so you simply leaned your head against the car seat, eyes closing in exhaustion. The drive back was silent, the tension between you and Jisung suffocating.

-

The next morning came, and you were running late to work. The events of the previous night flooded your mind—crying over Minho, kissing Jisung. Shame twisted in your chest, but you tried to brush it off. Being late once wouldn’t hurt.

You hurried towards the elevator when suddenly, a hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you back.

“Let’s talk,” Minho’s deep voice commanded, sending chills down your spine.

“Let me go,” you protested, trying to pull away, but he was too strong. He dragged you to the emergency exit, closing the door behind you. The sudden isolation made your heart race.

Now you were alone with him—again.

“We don’t need to talk,” you snapped, trying to walk towards the door, but Minho’s arm slammed against the wall beside you, blocking your path.

“We. Need. To.” His voice was calm but forceful, his eyes dark as they bore into yours.

“Minho…” Your voice wavered, all the anger you wanted to hurl at him caught in your throat. You weren’t ready for this.

But Minho wasn’t going to let you escape.

“Do you still love me?” he asked bluntly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You stared at him, your lips trembling. You wanted to say no. You wanted to lie, to tell him he meant nothing to you anymore. But the truth was lodged in your throat, refusing to let you speak.

Minho’s gaze softened, a hint of sadness slipping through his cold exterior. “I know you still love me,” he whispered. “I can feel it. I still have an impact on you.”

His words snapped you out of your trance, anger bubbling up. The audacity.

You laughed bitterly. “How can you say that after everything you’ve done to me? After leaving me in the dark, after breaking me?”

Minho flinched but didn’t move. “Because I know you. And I know you can’t forget me.”

Your laugh turned hollow. “And if it’s true? What then, Minho?” you spat. “What does it matter?”

“If it’s true,” Minho stepped closer, his breath fanning your face, “then we should get back together.”

You stared at him in disbelief, laughter spilling out as tears blurred your vision. “Just like that? After everything?”

“I…” Minho faltered, his confidence wavering. “I didn’t cheat on you.”

“Liar!” You pushed him back, fury spilling out. “I saw you with her. You kissed my best friend.”

“I was drunk,” he muttered, his voice low with shame.

“Being drunk doesn’t excuse it!” you screamed, your voice cracking. “You still knew what you were doing.”

“I didn’t know… I didn’t realize it,” Minho insisted, his hands gripping your shoulders, eyes pleading. “I didn't know it would happen.”

“You’re lying, Minho. If it wasn’t true, you should’ve explained it then. But you didn’t. You just left.”

Minho’s eyes dropped, unable to meet your gaze anymore. “I…” His words failed him. Minho has a lot to tell but then he was now the one who can't talk.

“I wish I never saw you again,” you whispered, tears falling freely now. With that, you pushed past him and left the stairwell, slamming the door behind you.

Instead of going to your office, you headed straight for the exit. You couldn’t stay here. Not anymore. Not after this.

As you stepped outside, a familiar figure approached you—Jisung. He didn’t need to ask what happened. One look at your face told him everything.

Wordlessly, he guided you to his car, letting you cry in the passenger seat. The only sound in the car was your quiet sobs.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jisung,” you whispered after a long stretch of silence. “I can’t stay here. I need to leave. I need peace.”

Jisung’s heart clenched at your words, but he simply nodded, his voice soft. “I’ll come with you.”

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. “No. I can’t drag you into this. I can’t keep hurting you.”

“You’re not a burden to me,” Jisung said, his voice raw with emotion. “I love you. I would do anything for you.”

You already knew he loved you, but hearing it still took you by surprise.

“If my heart was ready… I would choose you,” you whispered. “But right now… it’s too tired. It’s too hurt. I can’t just forget Minho and love you. I wish I could, but…”

Jisung nodded, understanding the weight of your words. “I’ll wait,” he whispered. “For as long as you need.”

-

You stood in the middle of the bustling airport, your suitcase by your side and your heart heavy with the weight of everything you were leaving behind. The noise of travelers passing by, announcements over the intercom, and the occasional laughter from nearby families faded into the background as your thoughts consumed you.

The sunglasses you wore hid the emotions you were trying so hard to suppress. You glanced around the busy terminal, trying to remind yourself why you were here, why you made this decision. You needed peace. You needed to be far away from Minho, from the memories, from everything that hurt. This was your chance to start over, somewhere no one knew your name or your past.

You took a deep breath, your hands tightening around the handle of your suitcase. You could do this. You had to. For your own sanity, for your heart. It was the best way to move on.

-

an: sdjahdj

Kayewrite's Masterlist!

warning: full of fluff

ask me anything and suggestions here!

Series:

Blue Sticky Note (stray kids ot8 x reader) - fluff a mysterious note confession appears in your binder. Unsure of who left it, you embark on an investigation among your eight close friends, each with their own quirks and possibilities.

Blue Sticky Note part 2 (stray kids ot8 x reader) - fluff, angst you know the answer of the mystery of the blue sticky note you found in your binder, but then keep denying it.

Stack of books (bsn ending #1) - han x reader x skz

falling in the wrong way (bsn ending #2) - minho x reader x skz

I hate to admit (bsn ending #3) - changbin x reader x skz

You were beautiful (bsn ending #4) - seungmin x reader x skz

this is going to hurt (bsn ending #5) - hyunjin x reader x skz

swear it again (bsn ending #6) - chan x reader x skz

the way you say hello (bsn ending #7) - felix x reader x skz

paper rings (bsn ending #8) - jeongin x reader x skz

Time and again (chan x reader x hyunjin) - fluff You thought acting was just another gig, until a simple favor spiraled into something more complicated. As you step into a world of wealth and deception, you meet Chan and Hyunjin—two men whose lives you’ve unintentionally entangled with your own.

One shot:

Like I do ( skz jeongin x reader) -fluff you tried to stop you feelings for your best friend especially he has a girl.

How to love? (skz seungmin x reader) - fluff, angst  You are just curious what love is, and you asked for tips from your friend, who just willingly helped you.

Want so bad (skz Lee know x reader) - fluff Minho is everything you never wanted in life. But he wants you….so bad.

Maybe This time ( skz jisung x reader) - fluff, angst Two old friends reunite and reminisce about their shared past.

Unseen Barriers (skz felix x reader) - fluff You have feelings for Felix. But Felix, despite being aware, remains determined not to reciprocate for a reason.

note: this will update timely note2: also please bear with me im an uni student and dont have always time to update but ill update if i have lots of time (and yes no nsfw in this blog)