This Is Going To Hurt

This is going to hurt

(bsn ending #5)

hyunjin x reader!! hyunjin x fem.reader"|!! word count: 2.2k

bsn alternative ending #5 wherein; you question hyunjin's feelings but then he answers

an: i love this. please love it also.

part 1! part 2!

The first time Hyunjin asked you for a blood sample, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. It was a strange request, but when he explained that you were unique, that he needed your sample for his research, you felt a flutter of pride. Hyunjin was always so serious about his studies, his future as a doctor looming ahead of him like a bright star. If there was something special about you that could help him, you wanted to be a part of it.

The first sentence he said to you after you agreed was, "This is going to hurt."

You, who prided yourself on being fearless, who never backed down from a challenge, simply nodded. But when he pricked the needle into your skin, you barely felt a thing. Maybe it was because Hyunjin was always gentle with you, or maybe it was because you were too focused on the way his brow furrowed in concentration. He didn’t want to hurt you—he never did—and for that, you were always grateful.

Hyunjin wasn’t just your friend; he was someone who took care of you in ways you never asked for but always appreciated. He checked on your health like a doctor would, reminding you to take your vitamins, giving you tips on how to stay healthy. It became a routine, his little reminders and your teasing responses.

"If you still won’t find a boyfriend by the time you’re old, you can always hire me as your personal doctor," he joked one day, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "But you’ll have to pay me double."

"Why would you do that? We’re friends," you replied with a laugh, shaking your head at his absurd suggestion.

"When it comes to work and money, there’s no such thing as friendship," he teased back, leaning a little closer as if to emphasize his point.

"Then we need to stop our friendship as fast as possible," you retorted playfully, nudging him with your elbow. The banter between you two was something you cherished, a light-hearted escape from the complexities of life.

But despite the teasing, despite the easy smiles and laughter, there was always a part of you that wondered how much of it was real. You had overheard a conversation between Hyunjin and Changbin one day, where Hyunjin mentioned liking you. But he had laughed afterward, and you didn’t know whether to believe him or not. How could you, when he seemed to be joking about something so serious?

That’s what hurt the most. The uncertainty, the not knowing whether his words held any truth or if they were just part of the game he seemed to be playing with your heart. It was as if he enjoyed watching you squirm, watching you try to figure out where you stood with him. And that hurt more than anything else.

At the party, you found yourself watching Hyunjin, waiting for him to react to the situation unfolding around you. You weren’t sure what you were hoping to see—a flicker of jealousy, perhaps, or a moment of vulnerability that would give you some clue as to how he really felt. But all you got was his usual nonchalant look, a smile playing on his lips as if he was enjoying every second of this or not.. you don't know what to name it.

And maybe he was. Maybe Hyunjin was only playing with your feelings, leading you on just enough to keep you interested but never giving you enough to truly know where you stood. The realization that he might be toying with you like this, even if unintentionally, made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. It wasn’t supposed to hurt like this, not when it came to someone you considered a friend.

The next day, you planned to skip school entirely, burying yourself under your blankets in an attempt to shut out the world. But then your phone rang, and Hyunjin’s name flashed on the screen. For a moment, you hesitated, debating whether to answer or not. You weren’t ready to face him, not after what happened last night.

But he didn’t give up easily. A few minutes later, a text came through: I need your blood again. It was so casual, so normal, as if nothing had happened between you. As if last night’s events hadn’t changed anything.

Are you a vampire? you replied tiredly, half hoping he wouldn’t respond. But of course, he did.

Come see me, please.

There were more messages, missed calls from other friends asking if you were okay, if you had gotten home safely. Apologies for things they might have said or done. But you couldn’t bring yourself to answer any of them. Except for Hyunjin. Against your better judgment, you typed out a reply: Where?

He told you to meet him at the school clinic, and you found yourself walking there before you could talk yourself out of it. The clinic wasn’t even his duty shift, but there he was, waiting for you as if everything was perfectly normal.

When you walked in, he smiled at you like he always did, that same gentle smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. "What do you need my blood for this time?" you asked, trying to keep your tone light, even though your heart was pounding in your chest.

Hyunjin glanced at you, his eyes softening as he saw the tiredness in yours. "It’s for another research project," he explained, already preparing the needle and the cotton balls. But his usual playful tone was missing, replaced by something more serious, more hesitant.

As he wiped your wrist with the cold cotton, he glanced up at you, his gaze lingering longer than usual. "How are you?" he asked quietly, his voice gentle, almost hesitant. The way he asked made it clear that he wasn’t just asking about your physical state.

You forced a smile, even though your heart felt heavy. "I’m fine," you lied, watching him closely as he worked. His fingers were steady, but there was something different in the air between you two. A tension that hadn’t been there before, something unspoken yet palpable.

Hyunjin took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he looked away. "You didn’t answer my calls," he said softly, his voice tinged with a hint of concern. "I was worried."

You looked down at your hands, unsure of how to respond. "I just… needed some time," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "Last night… it was a lot."

Hyunjin nodded slowly, as if he understood. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice just as quiet. "It was."

There was a moment of silence, the only sound being the soft rustle of the cotton ball against your skin. You could feel your heart beating faster, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. But before you could say anything else, Hyunjin spoke again.

"Can we talk about it?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. "About what happened?"

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. "I don’t know, Hyunjin," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it yet."

Hyunjin’s hand stilled, the needle poised just above your skin. He looked up at you, his expression a mix of worry and something else—something you couldn’t quite place. "I don’t want things to be weird between us," he admitted, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. "I just… I don’t want to lose you."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them, the vulnerability he rarely showed. "You’re not going to lose me," you said, your voice firm despite the uncertainty gnawing at you.

There was a pause, the air between you thick with unspoken words. And then, without warning, Hyunjin leaned in and kissed you.

Your mind went blank, and you didn’t know what was happening, but you didn’t push him away. His lips were warm against yours, his touch so gentle it almost made you want to cry. This wasn’t the Hyunjin you were used to—the one who teased and joked and kept his feelings hidden behind a wall of laughter. This was different,

and it hurts more.

-

Later it was night, Hyunjin finished his work and gathered his things, ready to head to class. But before he could leave, the door to the clinic slammed open with a loud bang, and in stormed Chan, eyes blazing with fury. Hyunjin barely had time to register what was happening before Chan’s hand was on his collar, yanking him forward and slamming him against the cold metal lockers.

The force of the impact rattled the lockers, and for a moment, Hyunjin’s breath was knocked out of him. But instead of fear or regret, what flickered in his eyes was something entirely different—a dangerous glint of amusement. A twisted sense of satisfaction curled in his chest as he met Chan’s gaze, unflinching.

"I saw what you did, Hyunjin," Chan growled, his voice low and dripping with barely restrained rage. The words were like venom, seething with a bitterness that had been festering for too long.

Hyunjin’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a mix of arrogance and defiance. He chuckled, a sound that was anything but lighthearted. It was the kind of laugh that dared Chan to do something about it, that mocked the very anger that had driven Chan to this point.

"Oh, that?" Hyunjin drawled, his voice laced with a dark, teasing edge. "Well, I’m glad you saw it."

Chan’s fist tightened on Hyunjin’s collar, the fabric bunching in his hand as he pulled Hyunjin closer, their faces mere inches apart. The tension between them crackled like a live wire, ready to snap at any moment.

"You think this is funny?" Chan spat, his voice trembling with anger. "Do you have any idea what you’re doing?"

Hyunjin’s smirk only deepened, his eyes never leaving Chan’s. "I think I know exactly what I’m doing," he said, his voice calm and collected. "The real question is, do you?"

Chan’s other hand balled into a fist, the muscles in his arm tensing as if he was on the brink of losing control. For a split second, it looked like he was going to punch Hyunjin, to wipe that infuriating smirk off his face. But just as the tension reached its peak, Hyunjin’s voice cut through the air again, sharp and taunting.

"Why are you angry?" Hyunjin asked, his tone dripping with mockery. "Is she even yours in the first place?"

The words were like a slap to Chan’s face, and for a moment, his fist wavered in mid-air, the rage in his eyes giving way to something more conflicted. Hyunjin’s question hung in the air, echoing in the small space of the clinic. It was a question that neither of them had wanted to face, a truth that both of them had been avoiding.

Deep down, Chan knew the answer. None of them had any claim over you.

"This is why she hates what’s happening to us," Hyunjin continued, his voice losing its playful edge, becoming more serious, more pointed. His eyes narrowed as he pushed Chan’s hand away from his collar, the smirk fading from his lips. "She didn’t want to destroy the friendship we had."

Chan’s hand fell to his side, the anger in his eyes dimming, replaced by a mixture of frustration and regret. He knew Hyunjin was right—this whole situation was a mess, a tangled web of emotions that none of them knew how to navigate. And it was tearing apart the friendship that had once meant everything to them.

"But you didn’t care, did you?" Chan asked, his voice quieter now, laced with a bitterness that cut deep.

Hyunjin tilted his head slightly, studying Chan’s expression as if he was searching for something. "Do you really think I didn’t care?" he asked, his voice softening, though the edge was still there. "Or are you just upset because I acted while you hesitated?"

Chan flinched, the words hitting closer to home than he would have liked. "That’s not the point, Hyunjin."

"Isn’t it?" Hyunjin pressed, his gaze unrelenting. "You’ve had just as many chances as I did, Chan. But you didn’t take them. Now you’re angry because I did."

Chan clenched his jaw, the frustration boiling over again. "You’re twisting things," he muttered, but there was no real conviction in his voice.

Hyunjin sighed, a rare moment of genuine emotion breaking through his facade. "Maybe I am," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But for the record, she chose me."

Those four words landed like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of Chan more effectively than any physical blow could have. He stared at Hyunjin, his expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Chan couldn’t bring himself to respond, couldn’t find the words to express the turmoil raging inside him. He just stood there, frozen in place, his hand still clenched into a fist at his side, as Hyunjin turned and walked away.

Hyunjin’s footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as he made his way down, a slow, deliberate pace that matched the rhythm of his thoughts. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, remembering the way your lips had felt against his, the way your voice had trembled when you said those words.

"I like you."

But the smile quickly faded, replaced by a deep sense of unease as he recalled the rest of what you had said: "But I won’t risk this friendship."

And that hurt. More than he wanted to admit.

----

an: please give thumbs up if you still reading this '?cri in chkchk boom.

masterlist

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)

why jisung wrecking my bias list these days? TT

1cm tall

..maybe that's why

(bsn ending #8)

jeongin x reader! i.n x fem reader!! wordcount: 2.2k

bsn alternative ending wherein jeongin doesnt want to call you 'noona' but you dont know why.

(an: last alternative ending. next to this will be the special chapter where a lot of yoou requested.)an: help! im dying! college is too hard.

an: i love jeongin!

part 1 and part 2 first

“Can you give me that spoon, please?”

Jeongin’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, and a teasing grin spreads across your face as you quickly hide the spoon behind your back. “Okay, if you call me ‘noona,’” you tease, already knowing the answer but still hoping.

He sighs, not even bothering to look up from his phone. “I won’t,” he replies, standing up to head towards the kitchen to grab a new spoon.

You shake your head with a small chuckle and place the spoon back on his plate. Was it really that hard to do?

Jeongin was just one year younger than you—a small gap, really. When you were nine, he was eight. That never felt like much of a difference. But then again, he had that same gap with Seungmin, and Seungmin got the honor of being called "hyung." So why didn’t Jeongin ever call you "noona"? The thought lingered in your mind often, and you teased him about it constantly.

But no matter how much you tried, he always brushed it off, never giving in.

You couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t treat you like he did the others.

Everyone doted on him, hugged him, and treated him like their adorable little brother. He would roll his eyes and push them away half-heartedly, but it was clear they all adored him. And who wouldn’t? Jeongin was cute. The kind of cute that made you want to squish his cheeks and ruffle his hair.

But he never seemed to mind when you hugged him. Like now, for example.

Your arms wrapped around his waist while he sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone as if you weren't even there. He didn’t push you away, didn’t squirm or protest like he did with the others. He just let you hold him, completely at ease, even as your head rested against his shoulder.

You don't know why, but you are willing to know the answer.

You never had a younger sibling, and the thought of taking care of Jeongin stirred something in you. He was just so easy to dote on—so talented, smart, and capable. Yet, there was this small part of you that still saw him as someone you wanted to spoil.

If he were your little brother, he’d probably be the most spoiled kid in the world.

But no matter how much you treated him like a little brother, there was always that lingering question: why didn’t he call you “noona”?

“Can you tie this for me?”

His voice breaks your thoughts again, and you look up to see Jeongin standing in front of you, holding the ends of his necktie. He’s dressed for his presentation, and you don’t hesitate to set your notebook aside and move to him.

You start tying his tie carefully, focusing on the task as his eyes linger on your hands.

Maybe it’s because he’s taller than you now?

That thought crosses your mind as you glance up at him, only to meet his steady gaze. The teasing thought bubbles up again, and a mischievous grin tugs at your lips.

“You should say, ‘Please, noona,’ if you want me to finish,” you say, your hands pausing mid-tie as you look up at him playfully.

Jeongin sighs, his patience visibly wearing thin. “Just finish it, please. I’ll be late,” he says,

“Not until you call me noona,” you insist, stepping back with your hands on your waist, fully embracing the playful banter. You expect him to groan or roll his eyes, but instead, his gaze sharpens, and the room feels suddenly smaller.

His next move catches you off guard.

Without warning, Jeongin steps forward and pins you against the wall, his hands braced on either side of you. His face is close—too close—and your breath catches in your throat. For a split second, all the teasing falls away, replaced by a tension you can’t quite place.

“I. Won’t,” he says, each word slow and deliberate, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that leaves you speechless.

You blink up at him, your brain trying to catch up to what just happened. But before you can say anything, he pulls back, adjusting his tie on his own with a swift motion. “You can stay as long as you want. Just lock the door when you leave,” he says coolly, grabbing his bag without a glance back and heading out the door.

You stand there, heart racing, still pressed against the wall, wondering what on earth just happened.

Did you push him too far? Was he mad? Or… was it something else?

Days pass, but teasing Jeongin about calling you "noona" doesn’t feel the same anymore. There’s something different now, something unspoken lingering between the two of you. You can’t quite place it, but it makes your chest feel tight, and the teasing doesn’t come as naturally as it used to.

Even now, as the others gather at your friend's hideout.. which was Jeongin’s apartment, you find yourself watching him a little too closely.

“My favorite baby is here!” Chan announces dramatically as he bursts into the room, immediately engulfing Jeongin in a hug. Jeongin struggles against him, whining, “Hyung! I’m not a baby!” but Chan only tightens his grip.

Minho, who’s busy in the kitchen, glances over with a smirk. “He’ll always be our baby,” he teases, and you can’t help but laugh, even though a small part of you feels envious. They always get to smother him in affection.

“He’s my baby,” you chime in proudly, earning a playful glare from Jeongin as he squirms under Chan’s grip.

“I’m not your baby,” Jeongin mutters, his voice slightly muffled as he tries to push Chan away.

“If he doesn’t want to be your baby, I can be,” Minho jokes, causing everyone to laugh.

“Shut up, Minho, you’re old,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

or maybe that’s why Jeongin doesn’t call you "noona"—because sometimes, you act like the younger one.

“I want ice cream,” you announce, pouting dramatically.

Jeongin, ever the responsible one, shoots you a disapproving look. “You haven’t even had dinner yet. You should eat something proper before you have ice cream,” he scolds, sounding more like an older brother than anything.

You sigh dramatically. “But I’m not hungry for dinner. I want ice cream,” you insist.

“Are you a baby?” he asks, laughing at your pout. But when you straighten up and fix your posture, you say, with as much dignity as you can muster, “I’m your noona.”

He smirks, clearly amused, and after a moment, he gets up to leave. “I’ll be back,” he says.

A few minutes later, he returns with a gallon of your favorite ice cream, and you light up, but before you can grab it, he holds it just out of reach.

“Eat this first,” he says, handing you a bag of fast food.

You sigh but comply, because, well, he’s Jeongin.

…maybe he doesn't want to call you noona 'cause he hates you?

"Do you hate me?" you asked one time

"Why would I?" he asked back. As far as he can remember he told you he loved you in that restaurant where you treat him.

"'Cause.. I don't know," you don't know how to explain

He ruffles your hair affectionately. “Stop overthinking. I don’t hate you.”

Or maybe he doesn’t wanna call you noona ’cause… he loves you?

That one sentence played over and over in your mind. It was the answer you’d been searching for, though you weren’t ready to admit it at the time.

After the sticky note incident and that night at Changbin’s birthday, things started to make sense. All the little moments clicked into place.

He didn’t want to call you noona because he didn't want to.

A week after Changbin’s party, you found yourself wanting to talk to someone, and Jeongin came to mind. He’d always been the one checking on you, sending you messages even when you didn’t reply. In one of them, he’d said, “If you ever need someone to talk to, just call me.”

But you hadn’t called.

Instead, you went to his apartment. You knew the passcode, as did most of the group. Still, you knocked. When no one answered, you entered, your steps careful, almost hesitant.

The silence was comforting, in a way. You sank into the soft cushions of his couch and waited, hoping the familiar space would calm the chaos in your mind.

It was getting dark when Jeongin finally came home, guitar strapped to his back. He hadn’t expected to find you here, yet there you were—curled up on his couch, looking so peaceful despite the turmoil you had been feeling.

For a moment, he just stood there, his eyes softening as he took you in. All his worries, the small frustrations, the confusion—it all faded away when he saw you like this. His heart ached in ways he couldn’t explain.

Quietly, as if afraid even the sound of his breath might wake you, he moved closer, kneeling beside the couch. His fingers hesitated before gently brushing the strands of hair away from your face, lingering in that tiny gesture, his thumb grazing your cheek.

His smile was bittersweet.

You had no idea how hard it was for him to stay in the role of the younger brother. How much he despised the label, how much he longed to break free from it. You didn’t know how many nights he lay awake, wishing he could grow up faster, become someone you’d look at differently—someone you might want to be with.

When you stirred slightly, he jerked back, standing in an instant. His heart raced as he quickly slipped into his usual facade, moving to sit on the smaller couch across from you. By the time you opened your eyes, he had an upside-down book in his hands, pretending to read.

"Oh, you’re awake?" he asked casually, as if nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just been admiring you moments ago.

You stretched, sitting up, blinking away the last remnants of sleep. "When did you get home?" you asked, your voice still soft from sleep, your lips curling into a smile.

"Not long ago." He shrugged, placing the book down carefully, his voice neutral, though his heart was anything but calm. "You should’ve called me."

"And disturb your class?" You laughed softly, shaking your head. "No way."

He wanted to tell you that it didn’t matter. That no class, no distance, nothing could stop him from coming to you if you needed him. But instead, he just smiled.

"How are you?" he asked, his gaze searching your face, seeing through the mask you always wore.

"I’m fine." The lie rolled off your tongue with practiced ease, but even you could feel how hollow it sounded.

Jeongin’s eyes lingered on you a little too long. He wanted to push, to ask why you were really here, but he didn’t want to scare you away. He knew you wouldn’t open up until you were ready.

Then, out of nowhere, you asked, "Can you call me noona?"

Jeongin blinked, caught off guard. The request was so unexpected, it almost felt like a joke. He scoffed lightly, unsure if you were teasing him or testing him.

You bit your lip, looking down as if you were afraid of his answer. "I just… I want to confirm something."

His heart sank. He didn’t want to call you that. Not now, not ever. He had spent so long trying to distance himself from that word, from the idea that you’d always see him as just your younger friend.

"Just once…" Your voice was softer this time, and it broke something inside him.

He swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at you. "Noona," he said quietly, barely able to force the word out, his voice thick with emotions he tried so hard to hide.

The silence that followed felt heavier than anything he had ever felt before. You didn’t say anything, and it scared him. He finally dared to glance at you, only to see you staring at him, your expression unreadable.

"Now I know the answer to my question," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

Jeongin’s chest tightened. He didn’t ask what you meant, but every fiber of him was screaming for an explanation.

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes glistening as you finally looked back at him. "Noona doesn’t feel right coming from you."

He froze, the weight of your words sinking in. He knew what you meant—he could feel it in the way your voice trembled, in the way you were struggling to keep your feelings contained.

"I don’t want to be your noona."

It wasn’t just a statement. It was a confession. A quiet, undeniable truth.

You, who had once been so unsure, so careful with your feelings, were now looking at him with a clarity that left no room for doubt. You didn’t want to hide from it anymore.

And neither did he.

--

an; i saw vids of jeongin bowing on stays and it made my heart warm. jeongin was indeed raised right by his hyungs. so precious.

omg. how can i post chan's fluff ending for bsn when he's like this TT

240824 DominATE in Seoul ©️Shuyichnyia

Falling in a wrong way

(blue sticky note ending #2)

skz lee minho x reader x ot8!! lee know x reader!!! word count: 3k

Blue note alternative ending 2 wherein; you choose minho and it felt wrong

an: i dont know if im still doing it right! i dont wanna hurt other memebers . chz TT an2: im having class starting tom and idk if i can update everyday. but ill do what i can

part 1 and part 2 first

As you walked out of that party, tears blurred your vision. The taxi ride home felt like an eternity, each second filled with the weight of the choice you knew you had to make. Choosing to follow your heart felt like a betrayal—either to yourself or to the friendships you held dear. The tears flowed freely, a silent acknowledgment of the impossible situation you found yourself in.

When the taxi finally pulled up to your apartment building, you stumbled out, barely holding yourself together. You made your way to the elevator, desperate to escape into the solitude of your room. But just as you were about to step inside, a voice called your name, stopping you in your tracks.

You turned around slowly, your heart pounding. There, standing a few feet away, was Minho, his motorcycle helmet in hand. His breaths were labored, as if he had sprinted to catch up to you. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with worry, regret, and something else—something deeper that made your heart ache even more.

Seeing him there, so close yet so far, brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You couldn't hold them back as he took a hesitant step toward you. The concern etched on his face, the way he looked at you like he was seeing through all your pain, made you crumble.

Without another word, Minho closed the distance between you. He grabbed your wrist gently and pulled you into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around you as if he could shield you from all the hurt in the world. "I'm sorry," he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

You clung to him, your face buried in his shoulder, your tears soaking into his shirt. "I'm sorry too," you choked out, the words barely audible. "Sorry because I loved you." The confession hung in the air between you, raw and unfiltered.

Minho pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours. "Why are you sorry for that?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"Because… because I'm afraid," you admitted, your voice breaking. The pain of those words was almost unbearable, and you could see it reflected in his eyes.

For a moment, Minho said nothing. He just stared at you, his expression a mix of sorrow and determination. Then, without warning, he took your hand in his, his grip firm but reassuring. "Then let's run away," he said, his voice steady now.

Before you could respond, he was already pulling you towards his motorcycle. He put a helmet to you, still reeling from everything that had happened. You didn't protest, didn't question where you were going or what you were doing. You just followed his lead, trusting him implicitly.

As you climbed onto the back of his bike and wrapped your arms around his waist, the world around you seemed to fade away. The roar of the engine filled the silence between you, and you pressed your face against his back, feeling the warmth of his body through the leather jacket. The wind whipped past you as Minho drove, and for the first time that night, you felt a sense of peace.

You didn't know where he was taking you, and it didn't matter. As long as you were with him, you felt safe. You let go of everything—the party, the confusion, the fear—and allowed yourself to simply be in the moment, with Minho.

You loved Minho. From the playful banter that always made you smile, to the way he showed his care in subtle, thoughtful ways. You appreciated everything about him, even the teasing that others might have mistaken for indifference. It was in those moments that you saw the depth of his feelings. The teasing was just his way of showing love, and you understood that. He loved you in his own way, just as you loved him. But the friendship you both valued so much had always held you back.

Tonight, though, all those barriers seemed to dissolve. It was just the two of you, riding through the night with the moonlight as your only witness. You held onto him tightly, savoring the feeling of his presence, knowing that this moment was yours and his alone. For once, you let yourself not care about anything else—just you and Minho, under the stars, running away from the world together.

Minho brings you somewhere—a place only the two of you know. It's a small, cozy house nestled right in front of the beach, a secret hideaway that has always been your sanctuary. The moment you step inside, you’re overwhelmed by the familiarity of it all. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the faint scent of the ocean air.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. You hold him as if letting go would mean losing everything. He hugs you back just as fiercely, his hand gently caressing your hair. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers into your ear, his voice soft and reassuring.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “We’re here now,” he says, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “Together.” You nod, feeling a warmth spread through your chest, the fear and doubt momentarily forgotten.

Minho then leads you to the couch, where you both sink into its plush cushions. For a moment, the world outside disappears, and it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to seal a promise. You close your eyes, savoring the feeling of his love, pure and unspoken, but deeply understood.

-

The next morning, you wake up to the soft light filtering through the curtains. You stretch lazily, realizing that you're wearing one of Minho’s oversized shirts, the fabric smelling faintly of him. It’s a comforting scent, one that makes you smile as you sit up and take in the surroundings.

The sound of clattering pots and pans draws your attention, and you find Minho in the kitchen, cooking something with his usual focused expression. The sight makes your heart swell with affection. Unable to resist, you quietly tiptoe over to him and wrap your arms around his waist from behind.

He glances back at you with a smile, his eyes warm and tender. “Good morning,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Sit down, I’m almost done.”

You do as he says, settling at the small table. Just as you’re about to get comfortable, a familiar white cat leaps onto your lap, purring contentedly. It’s the cat you both adopted from the animal shelter—a sweet, fluffy companion he named after yourself. You smile, petting the cat, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

A moment later, Minho places a dish in front of you, and the aroma makes your mouth water. He’s always been an excellent cook, and today is no exception. He hands you a glass of milk, the small, thoughtful gesture making you grin.

You take a bite, the flavors rich and comforting, and you can’t help but smile up at him. He’s watching you intently, waiting for your reaction. “It’s delicious,” you say, your words filled with genuine appreciation.

Minho chuckles, clearly pleased. You scoop up another spoonful of food and, on a whim, offer it to him. He raises an eyebrow but leans in to take the bite, and you both end up laughing at the simple, playful gesture. The laughter fills the room, light and carefree, making the moment feel almost surreal. For the first time, you allow yourself to be completely true to your feelings, to enjoy this fleeting happiness without worrying about the future.

Later, you both find yourselves outside, lounging in a big hammock that sways gently in the breeze. The ocean stretches out before you, a vast expanse of blue that seems to go on forever. You’re sitting between Minho’s legs, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours, the sound of the waves, the scent of the salty air—it all feels so right.

Minho tightens his hold on you, his chin resting on your shoulder and he whispered ,“I’m willing to risk everything for you,” he says quietly, the sincerity in his voice making your heart ache.

You shake your head, turning slightly to look at him. Eyes started to well up.

“Minho ---That’s not what I want,” you called him. "It’s okay if I’ll step away, as long as you stay the same. You’ve been with them for so long—you’re like family. I don’t want to be the reason to end it.”

Minho’s eyes darken with determination. “Whatever happens, I’ll choose you,” he says firmly.

His words are like a knife to your heart, and you can’t stop the tears from welling up. “But you’ve spent eight years with them,” you say, your voice cracking. “You have dreams together, and I’m just going to break it?”

You feel like you’ve fallen in love in the wrong way, at the wrong time. The guilt and fear threaten to overwhelm you, and the tears spill over, streaming down your cheeks. Minho gently wipes them away, his touch soothing.

“Everything will be okay,” he whispers, his voice full of conviction. “I’ll take care of it, I promise.”

You want to believe him, to trust in the strength of your love. So you close your eyes, leaning into him, and for now, you let yourself be comforted by his presence, holding onto the hope that somehow, everything will be okay.

-

The weekend with Minho flies by too quickly. You wish you could stop time, hold on to these moments a little longer, but you know that’s not possible.

With a heavy heart, you make your way to Chan’s studio. He’s always been the one you could talk to about anything, a steady presence who feels like a big brother because of how mature and understanding he is. As you approach the door, you manage a small smile and gently knock.

“Can I come in?” you ask, your voice soft.

Chan looks up from his work, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Of course,” he says, nodding towards the chair beside him. You hand him a cup of his favorite coffee as you sit down, and he takes it gratefully. “Thanks,” he murmurs, taking a sip.

He studies you for a moment, concern flickering in his eyes. “How are you?” he asks, his tone gentle.

You take a deep breath, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chan’s expression softens even more. “It’s okay,” he says reassuringly. “Everything will fall back into place, eventually.”

His words are meant to comfort, but the uncertainty in your heart remains, and Chan knows it.

Chan always know you. He knows what words you need.

“As your friend, and as someone who cares about you a lot, seeing you happy, following your dreams and wants, that’s what would make me happiest too.” The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. "So choose what's your heart saying." He’s always been honest with you, but this feels different—more personal.

He tries to lighten the mood with a joke, his smile returning. “Besides, feelings fade eventually. Who knows? Maybe feelings will just disappear in a day.”

You chuckle softly at his attempt to make you laugh, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple. You know it all too well. After the laughter fades, you look at him, your expression turning serious.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, the weight of your decision pressing down on you.

Chan’s smiles, understanding shining in his eyes. “You don't need to be sorry of the things that wasn't your fault,” he replies softly. “And no matter what happens just know that I’m here for you, no matter what.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence, the unspoken words hanging in the air. Chan’s presence, steady and reliable, gives you comfort. You smiled at him and he smiled then ruffled your hair.

-

You helped Felix move out of his old apartment, a task made necessary by the noisy neighbor who had been causing him endless frustration.

You were relieved that Felix never brought up the awkwardness between you two, which meant you could focus on the task at hand without dwelling on the unspoken tension.

As you both worked, Felix’s usual teasing and jokes brought some normalcy back into the day. You laughed at his comments, the sound of your laughter mingling with the clatter of packing boxes.

Suddenly, a knock at the door broke the rhythm of your work. You both paused, and Felix’s neighbor appeared, his face a mix of annoyance and frustration.

“Hey, can you keep it down?” the neighbor said sharply. “You’re disturbing other people.”

The words struck a nerve. You could feel your anger rising, and before you could think twice, you shot back, “Look at what you’ve done to my friend! He’s moving out because of you. Maybe you should be more considerate yourself!”

Felix’s hand landed gently on your shoulder, a subtle reminder to keep calm. He stepped in front of you, his tone even but firm. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll handle this. Thanks for letting us know.”

The neighbor’s expression shifted to one of guilt. He muttered a half-hearted apology and quickly retreated. As soon as he was out of sight, Felix couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Well, that was interesting,” he said, still chuckling. “I talked to him about this before, but I can’t believe he’d actually come here to complain.”

You joined in the laughter, the tension of the moment easing away. “I’m just glad he’s gone,” you said. “Moving day is stressful enough without dealing with that.”

You continue your work and when the packing was done, you were ready to bring it downstairs to the unit beside you. When he stopped you with his words,

“I’ll be moving a bit farther away." he flashed a soft sad smile, "Hyunjin’s roommate moved out, so I’m going to crash at his place.”

Your heart sank a little and got surprised at the news that was different from what you had expected. But before you could express your disappointment, Felix patted your head affectionately. “Don’t worry, it’s not because of you,” he said reassuringly. “It’s just a better fit for now. Everything’s going to be fine.”

You weren’t entirely convinced, but Felix’s warm smile and reassuring words helped to ease your worries.

Felix’s grin widened. “Everything’s fine,” he repeated, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “Thanks for helping me today. It means a lot.”

You smiled back, feeling a mix of relief and lingering sadness. As you watched him finish packing up the last of his things, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of finality, but also an appreciation for the way Felix had managed to make the best of a difficult situation.

-

The sun was setting, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over everything. You were sitting alone, and the serene moment was interrupted by a familiar voice calling your name. 

You turned to see Minho standing a few feet away, a playful glint in his eyes. He walked over and sat down beside you, his arm slipping around your shoulders, then patted the cat that was purring and resting comfortably in your lap.

Minho's eyes twinkled, and then he laughed, "I was actually calling our cat." 

You rolled your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at your lips. "Why did you name it after me?" you asked, feigning exasperation.

Minho chuckled, his laughter warm and infectious. He pulled you closer, his touch reassuring and tender.

You leaned into him, enjoying the comfort of his presence. The cat, sensing the affection, rubbed against your legs, purring contentedly. You looked at Minho, seeing the joy in his eyes, and then shifted your gaze back to the horizon.

The sky was now a canvas of vibrant colors, the sun dipping lower and lower until it was just a sliver above the water. The scene was breathtakingly beautiful, and it felt like the perfect backdrop to your moment together. You both fell into a comfortable silence, simply savoring the tranquility of the evening.

Minho's fingers lightly traced patterns on your arm, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The earlier worries and complications seemed distant now, replaced by the simplicity of this shared moment.

You turned your head slightly to look up at Minho, who was gazing at the sunset with a soft smile. There was a sense of peace in his expression, and you felt a similar calm settle within you. The world seemed to slow down as you both took in the beauty around you.

The sun continued its descent, casting long shadows and bathing the beach in a golden glow. It was a perfect ending to a challenging day, a reminder that amidst the chaos and confusion, there were moments of pure, simple happiness to be cherished.

You took a deep breath, feeling grateful for this serene moment with Minho, and the two of you shared a contented smile, knowing that no matter what lay ahead, this was a moment you would always remember.

----

an: might continue the next one if this will get 80 likes TT