Han Jisung Comfort - Tumblr Posts

fwb han jisung x reader

a/n: Han wants to stop being fwb and you think you are going to loose him, but it’s all a misunderstanding.

warnings: panic attack, angst but fluffy end

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You were sprawled on your bed, phone resting loosely in your hand as you stared up at the ceiling. The past few months had been a whirlwind—countless late-night meetings, shared moments, and heated exchanges between you and Han Jisung.

Friends with benefits. That’s all it was supposed to be. It had started innocently enough—two friends, both single, both needing some kind of distraction. But somewhere along the way, it got complicated. You had your suspicions, but you kept brushing them aside. You didn’t want to think too much about the way your heart skipped a beat when he texted you, or the warmth that bloomed in your chest when he smiled at you during quiet moments.

You checked your phone again, expecting a message from him. He usually texted by now, either asking to come over or just making small talk, but today it was radio silence. Maybe he was busy with work, you reasoned, trying not to let your mind wander to darker places.

As you scrolled mindlessly through your notifications, the familiar chime of a new message broke the silence.

Your heart stuttered at those four words. Nothing good ever came from a conversation that started like that. Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard before you replied.

The dots indicating he was typing appeared, then disappeared. A minute passed, then two. Your stomach churned with unease, fingers tightening around your phone.

You stared at the words, the meaning sinking in like a weight dragging you down. You blinked, trying to process it, even as your mind went numb. Stop?

Your throat tightened, a wave of panic swelling in your chest. Did he mean he wanted to stop seeing you altogether? Did he regret everything? The nights spent laughing, the way he’d pull you closer, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin like you were something precious?

“Oh.” That was all you could manage, your fingers trembling too much to type more.

The dots appeared again, but the message took longer this time. He was thinking carefully, that much was clear, but all it did was fuel the anxiety now rising in your chest like a tidal wave.

You read that sentence again. And again. Your heart pounded in your ears. Different things? You thought you were on the same page. You thought the nights spent talking and laughing until the early hours of the morning meant something to him too. But apparently, you’d been wrong.

A bitter taste settled on your tongue as tears stung your eyes. You had been careful to guard your feelings, to not let yourself fall too hard, but somewhere along the way, you had. And now it was crashing down on you with all the force of rejection, suffocating and inescapable.

You sent the message quickly, afraid if you waited any longer, the tears would blur your vision too much to respond. You didn’t want him to see how much this hurt. You didn’t want him to know he’d broken you, even if it felt like he had.

Another message came through.

A humorless laugh escaped your lips as you stared at his words. Too late for that. You were already hurting more than you thought possible.

You pressed send before you could overthink it. You needed to get out of this conversation. Your head was spinning, chest tightening with the weight of everything unsaid. You wanted to cry, to scream, to curl up in a ball and pretend this wasn’t happening.

The dots appeared again, and you felt your heart clench. Please don’t say more, you thought. I can’t take more.

“it’s not your fault”

Your vision blurred, and you dropped your phone onto the bed, curling your knees up to your chest as the panic set in. He didn’t want you anymore. He was done. Maybe you were a distraction, maybe it had never meant as much to him as it did to you, but the end result was the same. You were losing him, and it hurt more than you’d ever imagined.

Your breathing quickened, each inhale sharp and ragged. The walls of your room seemed to close in, your chest tightening as if the very air around you was suffocating. You tried to take a deep breath, but it was shallow and shaky, your vision tunneling as the panic attack took hold.

You clutched at your chest, trying to ground yourself, but it was no use. Your head was spinning, thoughts racing too fast to catch. This can’t be happening. He’s gone. He doesn’t want you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, your phone buzzed with another message, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look. Not now. Not when everything was falling apart.

---

Jisung paced back and forth in his apartment, his phone clenched tightly in his hand. He hadn’t expected things to go this way. This wasn’t what he wanted. He had thought—no, hoped—that she would understand, that she would let him explain. But he had fumbled it. The words had come out wrong, and now, it felt like he was losing her.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up inside him. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but the truth was, he couldn’t keep going like this. He’d fallen for her. Hard. What had started as something casual had turned into something so much more for him, but he was terrified of scaring her away. He thought ending things might be easier for both of them before his feelings complicated everything.

But her messages had been so cold. So distant.

He cursed under his breath, opening their chat again. His last message sat unread, and he frowned, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

He sent the message quickly, hoping she would reply, but the minutes ticked by with no response. His stomach twisted with unease. Something wasn’t right.

Without thinking, he grabbed his keys and jacket, heading for the door. He had to see her. He had to fix this, before it was too late.

---

The knock at your door was distant, a faint sound that barely registered through the fog of your panic. Your breathing was still shallow, chest tight as if the weight of the world was pressing down on you. You were trembling, lost in your own head, when the knock came again—louder this time, more insistent.

“Y/N?”

That voice. Even through the haze, you recognized it. Jisung.

You wanted to ignore it, to stay curled up in your bed where you could pretend none of this was happening. But a small part of you, the part still aching for him, wanted to open that door.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there. Please.”

His voice was softer now, pleading. You could hear the worry in it, and something inside you cracked. You stood shakily, legs weak beneath you as you made your way to the door. With trembling hands, you unlocked it and pulled it open.

Jisung stood there, his eyes wide with concern the moment he saw you. He stepped inside without hesitation, gently taking your arm to guide you to the couch.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, sitting beside you. “You’re okay. Breathe, okay? Just breathe with me.”

You shook your head, trying to catch your breath, but it felt impossible. Your chest was still too tight, each inhale sharp and shallow. He sat closer, his hands gently resting on your arms as he spoke softly.

“I’m here. Just focus on me, alright? Look at me.”

You forced your eyes up to meet his, and his expression was soft, full of worry and something else—something that made your heart ache even more.

“That’s it,” he said gently, guiding you through deep breaths. “You’re doing great. Just keep breathing.”

It took a while, but eventually, your breathing evened out, the panic slowly ebbing away. Your chest still felt heavy, but at least you weren’t suffocating anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

Jisung frowned, shaking his head. “Don’t be. I should be the one apologizing.”

You looked away, your throat tight. “You don’t have to. I get it. You don’t want this anymore.”

He was silent for a moment, and you braced yourself for the inevitable confirmation, the final blow to your already broken heart.

But then he spoke.

“No,” he said softly. “That’s not it at all.”

You blinked, confused, and turned to look at him. His expression was serious, but there was a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“I never meant that I didn’t want you,” he continued. “It’s the opposite, actually.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest as his words sank in. He kept talking, his voice low and careful.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for a while, but I didn’t want to scare you off. I thought if I kept things casual, it would be easier for both of us. But the truth is, I fell for you, Y/N.”

You stared at him, speechless.

“I didn’t want to keep going like this, pretending I didn’t care, because I do,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I care about you so much.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from panic or pain. They were from the overwhelming relief and hope that blossomed in your chest at his words.

“You… you love me?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.

Jisung nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah, I do.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of his confession settling between you. Then, before you could stop yourself, you surged forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He held you just as tightly, his face buried in your neck as you both breathed each other in.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice shaky but sure.

Jisung pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was soft and full of all the things you hadn’t said before now.

It wasn’t rushed, or desperate like so many of your past encounters had been. This was different. This was love.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily but content.

“We’ll figure this out,” he whispered. “Together.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. For the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him.

Together.

Han Jisung x insecure reader

warnings: weight insecurity

this is another vent post

Angst/Comfort

Word count: ~2,000

---

You stared at the mirror, unable to look away from the reflection that greeted you. The person staring back was foreign, distorted, and unrecognizable. Your fingers grazed over your stomach, your sides, and your arms, disgust welling up inside you as the self-criticism rang loud in your head.

How could anyone think you were beautiful? Especially him.

Your thoughts wandered to Jisung—his gentle smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the affection that always shone through when he looked at you. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve him. His love was so pure, and all you could do was dwell on how unworthy you were.

You thought you could fix it. If you could just lose some weight, maybe you’d feel better about yourself. Maybe the suffocating self-hatred would quiet down, and you could finally feel deserving of him. So you began skipping meals here and there. At first, it was harmless, an experiment of control. Then, it spiraled into something you couldn’t stop.

For the last few days, you barely ate anything. Even the smell of food made you feel nauseous. And when Jisung, sweet as always, brought over your favorite takeout as a surprise, you found yourself shrinking away, making excuses, hiding behind fake smiles.

He was starting to notice. His eyes would linger on you longer, concern etched in his features. You hated that look. It only made the guilt worse, the anxiety tighter in your chest.

Today, your brother Seungmin had invited you out to spend time with him. You agreed, hoping it would distract you from the gnawing pain in your stomach. But as the hours passed, you felt weaker and weaker. The world started to blur, your steps became shaky, and your vision dimmed. You heard Seungmin call your name, but everything went black before you could respond.

---

You slowly regained consciousness, the world fuzzy around the edges. Your body felt heavy, like lead, and your throat ached. Blinking a few times, you realized you were lying on your bed. You could hear soft murmurs in the distance, and as you turned your head, you saw Seungmin standing by the door, phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, she fainted… I don’t know, she’s been acting strange lately. Can you come over?”

You closed your eyes, tears gathering at the corners. You knew who he was talking to—Jisung. A wave of dread washed over you. You didn’t want him to see you like this. Not now, not when you were at your weakest.

Seungmin hung up and noticed you were awake. He walked over, kneeling beside the bed. “You okay?” he asked softly, though his tone was strained with worry.

You swallowed, your throat dry and scratchy. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Y/N,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been different lately. Jisung’s noticed too, and now… fainting? You need to take care of yourself.”

“I’m fine,” you repeated, your voice cracking as you fought back tears. “I’m fine, Seungmin. Please, just leave it alone.”

Seungmin stared at you for a long moment before shaking his head. “Jisung’s coming over. I’ll leave you two to talk.” With that, he stood up, giving you one last concerned glance before quietly exiting the room.

Your heart pounded in your chest, dread filling every fiber of your being. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to face Jisung. What if he hated you for being this weak? What if he saw how disgusting you felt and decided you weren’t worth his love?

A few minutes later, you heard the front door open, followed by soft footsteps. The door to your room creaked as Jisung stepped in, his eyes immediately locking onto you. You could see the fear, the confusion, the sadness in his gaze.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely above a whisper as he rushed to your side, kneeling by the bed. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, turning your head away, not able to bear looking at him.

“You’re not fine,” he said, his voice shaking with a mix of frustration and worry. “You fainted, Y/N. Seungmin told me everything. What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, tears blurring your vision. How could you even begin to explain? How could you tell him that the image you saw in the mirror disgusted you so much that you stopped eating? How could you tell him that you felt unworthy of his love?

“I—” Your voice cracked, and the tears you’d been holding back finally broke free. “I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jisung’s hand reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. “Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he whispered, his own voice thick with emotion. “You can tell me, Y/N. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

The sincerity in his words shattered the walls you’d been holding up, and the sobs wracked your body. “I-I’m so sorry, Jisung. I just… I just feel so disgusting all the time. I look in the mirror, and I hate what I see. I feel so fat and ugly, and I just thought… if I stopped eating, maybe I’d feel better. But I don’t. I feel worse.”

Jisung’s face crumpled, and tears began to spill from his own eyes. His hand found yours, squeezing tightly as if he was afraid to let go. “Y/N… why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to burden you,” you whispered. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Burden me?” he repeated, his voice cracking. “You could never be a burden to me. You’re everything to me, Y/N. I don’t care what you look like or how you feel about yourself—I love you for who you are. Not for some ideal you think you need to be.”

You closed your eyes, his words washing over you like a balm on your wounded soul. “But I don’t feel beautiful, Jisung. I feel… worthless.”

Jisung let out a soft sob, his hand trembling as he cupped your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out. I don’t want you to hurt yourself like this. Please, Y/N, you don’t have to do this. You don’t need to starve yourself or change anything about yourself. You’re perfect just as you are.”

You shook your head, the tears flowing freely now. “I don’t feel perfect. I feel broken.”

Jisung climbed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms, holding you so close that you could hear the steady beat of his heart. He kissed the top of your head, his tears mingling with yours. “You’re not broken, baby. You’re not. You’re just struggling, and that’s okay. But you don’t have to go through this alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’ll get through this together.”

You buried your face in his chest, your sobs slowly subsiding as his warmth and presence enveloped you. For the first time in days, you didn’t feel completely alone.

After a long moment of silence, Jisung pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “I’m going to help you, okay? We’re going to take it one day at a time. I’ll cook for you, or we can go out and get whatever you want to eat. No pressure, no expectations. Just… when you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express how much his promise meant to you.

“And if you ever feel like this again,” Jisung continued, his voice soft but firm, “if you ever feel like you’re not enough, I want you to come to me. Don’t hide it. Don’t try to handle it on your own. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice shaky but sincere.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt that. You don’t have to change for me, or for anyone. I love you just the way you are.”

You curled into his embrace, the weight on your chest feeling a little lighter. It would take time, you knew that. But with Jisung by your side, maybe—just maybe—you could start to see yourself the way he saw you.

And that was a start.

---

As the days passed, Jisung stayed true to his promise. He was patient, never pushing you too hard, but always there with a kind word or a plate of your favorite food. He would sit with you, sometimes in silence, sometimes with quiet reassurances, but always with a love so deep and unconditional that it slowly began to chip away at the walls you’d built around yourself.

And with each passing day, you began to believe, just a little bit, that maybe—just maybe—you were enough.

GHOSTFACE! HAN X READER

SFW!! just a little suggestive

fluff 🎃

The air buzzed with excitement as you stepped into Minho’s house, transformed for the night into a haunted mansion. Everywhere you looked, people were in costume, identities concealed behind elaborate masks. The dim lighting cast shadows that danced across the walls, making the whole place feel both thrilling and mysterious.

You were dressed for the occasion too, wearing a dark, lace-covered mask that obscured most of your face. The thrill of anonymity was intoxicating, as you wandered through the crowd, trying to pick out familiar faces. You weren’t particularly close to Minho, but you’d met him a few times through mutual friends. He had that mischievous, contagious energy that made everyone feel like they belonged.

After some time mingling, you found yourself pulled into a circle of people gathered in Minho’s living room. He was at the center of it all, orchestrating a game of truth or dare with a gleam in his eye that spoke of trouble.

“Alright,” he declared, looking around the circle, his gaze landing on you. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

You hesitated, but the anticipation in the room was infectious. “Dare,” you finally replied, feeling bold.

Minho’s grin widened, and he looked around the room before settling his eyes on a figure across from you, dressed in black with a familiar Scream mask. You’d noticed him earlier, his tall frame and silent demeanor giving him a mysterious air.

“I dare you to hook up with Ghostface,” Minho said, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

The crowd burst into laughter and cheers, egging you on. The figure in the Scream mask tilted his head, seemingly surprised, but he didn’t back away. Instead, he held out a hand, a silent invitation for you to join him.

Your heart raced as you took his hand, and he led you down a hallway and into a small, dark closet. Once inside, he removed his mask, but the room was so dim you couldn’t make out his face. You heard him exhale, as if trying to steady himself, and then he spoke, his voice a soft, warm murmur.

“Jisung,” he introduced himself, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Well, this is one way to meet someone.”

You laughed too, the nervous tension breaking, and replied with your own name. The closet was small, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him as he stepped closer. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, as if testing the waters, and when you didn’t pull away, he leaned in, pressing his lips softly against yours.

In the darkness, Jisung’s presence was all-consuming. His fingers traced lightly along your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, the space between you shrinking until his lips met yours. It started out soft, tentative, but as the seconds ticked by, it deepened, an unspoken intensity passing between you. There was a gentle confidence in the way he kissed you, as if he’d known you far longer than a few stolen minutes in the shadows.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his costume. He was steady, grounding you even as your heart raced, beating wildly in your chest. In that moment, you were acutely aware of every sensation—the brush of his hand as it settled at the small of your back, the way his lips moved with yours, the slight tilt of his head as he drew you in closer.

And then, as quickly as it began, it ended. You pulled back, breathless and a little dazed, the reality of the dare sinking in. Jisung chuckled softly, the sound a gentle, comforting vibration in the small space. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before he reached for the door handle, slipping his mask back on as he did.

“I guess that’s our cue,” he said with a playful lilt, and together you stepped out into the hallway.

The sudden brightness of the party was a stark contrast to the intimacy of the closet. Your eyes adjusted, and then you saw him fully for the first time. He was removing the Scream mask entirely, revealing a boyish face framed by dark, tousled hair. His eyes were warm and expressive, and his lips quirked into a smile when he caught you staring.

“Like what you see?” he teased, and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks.

You nodded, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. He was beautiful, more than you had imagined, and something about his open expression made you feel at ease.

“Come on,” he said, motioning for you to follow him back to the living room where Minho and the others were waiting.

The rest of the game went by in a blur, your mind still replaying the moments in the closet. Every now and then, you’d catch Jisung looking your way, a knowing grin flashing across his face. There was an undeniable spark between you, and it left you curious and excited. When the game ended, you mingled with friends, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that the night had changed in some significant way.

As the party began to wind down, you found yourself alone, leaning against a wall and reflecting on the night. You felt a slight tug in your pocket and reached inside, pulling out a small piece of paper. In neat handwriting, it bore Jisung’s number and his Instagram handle, along with a quick message: Call me sometime? - J.

You looked around, searching for him, but he was already gone, the ghost of a smile still lingering on your lips as you held the note in your hand.

The Next Day

You woke up with a smile, Jisung’s note still sitting on your nightstand. Unable to resist, you typed his number into your phone and saved his contact. Your fingers hovered over the screen, hesitating before you finally decided to send him a message.

You: Hey, it’s me from the party last night. :)

The response was almost immediate.

Jisung: Took you long enough! I was worried you’d forgotten about me.

You chuckled, the easy banter making you feel more comfortable.

You: Forget about you? Not a chance. Last night was…interesting.

Jisung: Interesting? I was aiming for unforgettable.

You: Bold words for a guy in a ghostface mask.

You spent the next few hours texting back and forth, the conversation flowing as if you’d known each other for ages. He was funny, quick-witted, and the more you talked, the more you found yourself drawn to him. You learned that he was a musician, passionate about songwriting, and that he shared a close friendship with Minho, the host of last night’s party.

Days turned into weeks, and your connection only grew stronger. You’d meet up for coffee, go on late-night walks, and he’d often bring his guitar, playing you bits of songs he was working on. There was a spark in him that was infectious, and you found yourself looking forward to every moment you spent together.

One evening, as you sat on a park bench under a canopy of stars, he looked over at you, his gaze intense and a little nervous.

“I know this might sound crazy,” he began, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “But I think I’ve been falling for you since that night at the party.”

Your heart raced at his words, a smile spreading across your face as you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Me too,” you admitted, feeling a warmth settle over you.

Jisung let out a breath of relief, pulling you close and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. In that moment, everything felt right, as if that fateful Halloween night had set you both on a path you were always meant to follow.

And so, a dare at a party led to something far deeper than either of you could have anticipated. That night had been the beginning of an unforgettable connection, one that would carry you both into a love story worth remembering.

Time passed effortlessly with Jisung. From coffee dates that stretched long into the afternoons, to spontaneous late-night drives, every moment felt like a new layer unfolding between you two. Each meeting, each conversation, revealed more of who he was, and you found yourself growing more attached than you had ever anticipated.

One evening, about a month after that Halloween party, you found yourself back at Minho’s place. He’d invited a small group over for a casual get-together, and you and Jisung had both agreed to go. There was something magical about returning to the place where it all began, now as a couple, sharing knowing glances as you remembered that fateful night in the closet.

As the night wore on, Minho cornered you both, a sly smile on his face as he watched the two of you laughing and sharing quiet words.

“So,” he began, arms crossed, leaning against the wall with a look of pure satisfaction. “I see my dare wasn’t a complete disaster after all?”

Jisung laughed, squeezing your hand as he looked at Minho. “I’d say it was a pretty good call,” he replied. “Thanks for playing matchmaker.”

You nodded in agreement, leaning against Jisung’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’d say it worked out. Best dare I’ve ever taken.”

Minho chuckled, giving you both a proud nod before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you alone once again. You caught Jisung’s eye, a sparkle of mischief there as he leaned down, brushing a soft kiss across your forehead.

“Do you ever think about that night?” he asked, his voice a gentle murmur.

“All the time,” you replied, smiling up at him. “It was the perfect start to this. A little chaotic, a little mysterious—just like you.”

He grinned, pulling you close as the two of you slipped away to a quieter corner of the room. It was there, in the gentle glow of the party lights, that he told you about his first impressions of you, how he’d noticed you even before the game had started. He confessed that he’d been too shy to approach, afraid that you might not feel the same spark he did.

“But then Minho pulled that stunt, and I thought, ‘Well, this is my chance,’” he explained with a sheepish grin. “And here we are.”

You took his hand, squeezing it lightly. “Here we are,” you echoed, warmth spreading through you as you looked into his eyes. The love that had started as a playful dare had grown into something beautiful, something that felt like it was meant to be all along.

As the evening drew to a close, the two of you stepped outside, hand in hand, breathing in the cool night air. Under the glow of the streetlights, Jisung turned to you, his face serious yet soft.

“I don’t want this to ever end,” he said, his voice a little shaky but full of conviction.

You smiled, pulling him close and resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Neither do I,” you replied, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you.

He tilted your chin up, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, one that felt like a promise—a promise of all the days to come, of countless nights like this one, and of a love that felt as endless as the night sky above you.

And so, that Halloween night had turned into so much more than just a dare. It was the start of a story, one written with every stolen glance, every whispered word, and every touch. As you walked home together, fingers intertwined, you knew that this was only the beginning of a journey you were excited to share, one day at a time.

HAN JISUNG X READER

synopsis: You, Han and Seungmin are friends and roomates. One night you wake up from a bad panic attack but Seungmin is there to rescue you. How is Han going to feel?

The room was pitch dark, and silence pressed heavily on you, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen. But inside your head, a storm raged. You were wide awake, heart pounding erratically, breath coming in short, panicked bursts. Your fingers clutched the edge of your blanket tightly as you struggled to ground yourself.

This was how it always started. It felt as if the walls were closing in, suffocating you with invisible pressure, the fear bubbling up out of nowhere and consuming you whole. You needed air. You needed space. You needed out.

Without thinking, you pushed back the covers and slipped out of bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stumbled down the hall toward the kitchen. The soft glow of light from under the door caught you off guard. The apartment was supposed to be asleep, but someone else was awake.

You hesitated at the door, then opened it quietly. Inside, Seungmin was standing by the counter, a glass of water in hand. He turned when he heard you, his brows furrowing as soon as he saw your face.

“Hey…” he said softly, setting his glass down and stepping closer. “Are you okay?”

You forced a weak smile, but even that was shaky. He didn’t need you to answer. Within seconds, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. The warmth of his embrace was a balm against the chaos inside your chest, and you clung to him, letting his steady heartbeat ground you.

“You don’t have to talk,” he whispered, one hand gently rubbing your back. “Just breathe. I’m right here.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the wave of panic start to recede as you focused on the comforting rhythm of Seungmin’s breathing. You had known him for a long time, and he always seemed to know exactly what to do, even when you didn’t know how to ask for help.

“Do you want to sit down?” he asked, his voice barely more than a murmur.

You nodded, and he led you over to the couch, his arm still around your shoulders. You sat down together, and he pulled you close, wrapping the blanket you’d brought around both of you. The world felt smaller here, quieter, as if the darkness was something that could protect you instead of trap you.

You let yourself sink into the comfort of his hold, leaning your head against his chest. Your breathing slowed, the panic slowly dissolving into the warmth of his embrace.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Seungmin just hummed softly, his hand still rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You don’t have to thank me,” he replied. “I’m here for you, always.”

Somehow, in that moment, everything felt okay. The weight of your panic attack had lifted, and you felt safe enough to close your eyes, exhaustion finally overtaking you. In the cocoon of his arms, you drifted into sleep.

You woke up to the faint glow of morning light streaming in through the blinds. For a moment, you were disoriented, the unfamiliar warmth beside you pulling you out of your drowsy haze. Blinking, you realized that you were still on the couch, curled up against Seungmin. He was awake, scrolling through his phone with his other arm still draped around you, holding you close.

“Good morning,” he said with a soft smile as he noticed you stir.

“Morning,” you replied, feeling a bit shy as you pulled away and stretched. “Did you stay here all night?”

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t want to leave you alone.”

You felt a warmth in your chest at his words, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you. I really mean it.”

Seungmin gave you a gentle, reassuring look before standing up. “Anytime,” he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

As Seungmin headed to his room, you stood and stretched, making your way toward the kitchen to make some coffee. But as you turned the corner, you froze.

Han was there, standing by the counter with his back to you. He didn’t turn around when you entered, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he gripped his coffee mug tightly.

“Morning,” you greeted, trying to keep your voice light, but he barely responded, giving only a faint nod before brushing past you to leave the room.

You watched him go, confusion settling in the pit of your stomach. Han wasn’t acting like himself at all. Usually, he was the first to greet you in the morning, full of energy and silly jokes. Today, he had barely even looked at you.

The day dragged on with Han avoiding you and Seungmin, answering in short, clipped sentences when either of you tried to talk to him. His usual warmth was replaced with a cold distance, and you couldn’t understand why.

By the time the sun was setting, you felt as though the weight of his silence was crushing you. After dinner, you found him in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage, and approached him.

“Han,” you called softly, watching as he turned to look at you, his expression guarded. “Can we talk?”

He looked away, a muscle in his jaw tightening. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.”

“Yes, there is,” you insisted, stepping closer. “You’ve been avoiding me all day, and I don’t know why. Please, just tell me what’s wrong.”

He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before he looked away again, his shoulders sagging. “I saw you and Seungmin this morning,” he said quietly.

The realization hit you like a wave. “Oh… Han, I—”

“I didn’t know you two were… like that,” he interrupted, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “I thought maybe I had a chance, you know?”

You took a step closer, reaching for his hand, but he didn’t move. “It’s not like that. Han, last night, I had a panic attack. Seungmin was just helping me calm down. He stayed with me because I was scared. That’s all.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of dishonesty. You could see the uncertainty and vulnerability in his gaze, and it made your heart ache. “You don’t have to explain—”

“Yes, I do,” you cut him off, your voice firm. “Because I like you, Han. I’ve liked you for a long time, and I didn’t know how to tell you. Last night wasn’t what you think, but I want it to be you who’s there for me.”

His face softened, a glimmer of hope sparking in his eyes. “You mean that?”

You nodded, your heart racing as you squeezed his hand. “Yes. I didn’t realize how much I wanted this until I saw how hurt you were. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you didn’t have a chance. I was just… scared to say anything.”

Han took a step closer, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “But I didn’t want to ruin what we had. Seeing you with him… it made me realize that I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth blossom in your chest as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently along your skin. “You don’t have to keep it to yourself anymore,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

In that moment, Han closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender, gentle kiss. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as if he never wanted to let go. The hurt and confusion from the day melted away, replaced by the quiet certainty of finally being where you were meant to be.

When you pulled back, Han rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Next time, come to me,” he murmured, his voice filled with a gentle warmth. “I want to be the one you lean on.”

You nodded, your heart full as you wrapped your arms around him. “I promise.”

Together, you made your way back into the living room, where Seungmin was sprawled on the couch, his phone in hand. He looked up, raising an eyebrow as he took in the sight of you and Han holding hands.

“So, did you two finally work things out?” he asked with a smirk.

You felt your cheeks warm as Han let out a sheepish laugh. “Yeah, I think we did,” he replied, squeezing your hand.

Seungmin just grinned, shaking his head. “Took you long enough.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your closest friends, you felt a deep sense of peace settle over you. You had finally found your place, right where you belonged.

Hai Riri ^^

So I've had this idea of Skz female 9th member reader and Hannie being in a secret relationship the other members don't know about yet, or at least they're kinda more than friends. And after a particularly long night of recording, the two of them are cuddled up on the studio couch and found in the morning. Let me know what you think <3

HAN X READER — our ‘not so secret’ secret

a/n: tysm for the request I loved it <3

synopsis : You are the newest member of Stray Kids, having joined the group as the ninth member. As the only female member, it’s been a whirlwind of emotions—navigating the dynamics, finding your place in the team, and balancing the ever-growing feelings you have for one of the members: Han Jisung. Despite your best efforts to keep things professional, you’ve developed a close bond with Han, and somewhere along the way, it crossed the line between friendship and something more. Late-night studio sessions have become your escape, where you both share whispered secrets, stolen glances, and the warmth of being next to each other.

Tonight was another one of those nights. After hours of recording, everyone else left to rest, but you and Han stayed behind, determined to perfect your parts. One thing led to another, and now, here you are, curled up on the studio couch together. His arm is wrapped protectively around you, his gentle breathing soft against your hair.

You drift into a peaceful sleep, unaware that morning will bring its own surprises.

˚୨୧⋆｡♡˚⋆

It was nearly dawn, and you and Han were still in the recording studio, the rest of the team having called it a night hours ago. After endless retakes and some playful banter, you both found yourselves sprawled on the studio couch, exhausted.

As your eyelids grew heavier, you felt Han’s arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close. You snuggled into him, finding comfort in his warmth as you both drifted off to sleep.

the next morning..

The quiet murmur of voices stirred you awake. Blinking your eyes open, you realized you were still nestled against Han, his arm securely around you. For a moment, you forgot where you were—until you heard someone clearing their throat.

“Uh… am I interrupting something?”

You looked up to see Chan standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised and an amused smile tugging at his lips. Han was still half-asleep beside you, oblivious to the world.

“Um, Chan!” you stammered, scrambling to sit up. “We were just—”

But before you could finish, Hyunjin poked his head into the room, immediately taking in the scene. His eyes went wide, and a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Oh. My. God,” he gasped dramatically. “Changbin, get in here! You’ve gotta see this!”

Changbin appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes as if he were still waking up. He took one look at you and Han, then let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “Are you two… cuddling?”

Han finally opened his eyes, looking around in confusion. “What? What’s happening?” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his face.

Hyunjin smirked, leaning into the doorway. “You two are looking pretty cozy there. Anything you wanna share with the class?”

Your face flushed, and you glanced at Han, who was now fully awake and sporting a sheepish grin. “Uh… well, you see…” he started, but Changbin cut him off with a mock scream.

“EVERYONE! COME QUICK! YOU WON’T BELIEVE THIS!” Changbin bellowed down the hallway, clearly enjoying every second of the chaos he was causing.

“Oh no, don’t—” you pleaded, but it was too late. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway as the rest of the members rushed toward the studio.

Minho was the first to arrive, followed closely by Seungmin and Jeongin, each of them looking more confused than the last. “What’s going on?” Minho asked, folding his arms as he eyed you and Han.

Hyunjin grinned, clearly relishing the attention. “Our two lovebirds here were all cuddled up together. Isn’t that right?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, smirking as he exchanged a glance with Jeongin. “Didn’t take you guys for the PDA type,” he teased.

Han shrugged, pulling you closer and giving the group an unapologetic grin. “We just… got comfortable.”

Jeongin covered his mouth, failing to suppress a laugh. “Comfortable? Dude, you’re practically glued together! You almost had YOUR lips on HER lips!!!”

You buried your face in your hands, laughing despite yourself. “Alright, alright, you caught us. No need to make a whole production out of it.”

Minho chuckled, giving you both an approving nod. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You two have been giving each other heart eyes for months.”

“Heart eyes?” you echoed, looking over at Han with a grin. “I thought we were being subtle!”

“Not subtle enough!” Hyunjin teased. “You two were about as subtle as a train wreck.”

Han laughed, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “Well, I guess we’re busted.”

Chan stepped forward, clapping a hand on Han’s shoulder. “Hey, no worries. We’re happy for you guys—just keep it chill around the fans, alright?”

Changbin nodded, feigning seriousness. “Yeah, because if they find out, I don’t want to deal with the chaos. I’m too young to be trampled by a mob of angry fans!”

Everyone burst into laughter, the tension melting away as you all settled into the lighthearted moment. You looked around at your teammates, relieved by how accepting they were and grateful for their teasing support.

Jeongin pointed to the couch and smirked. “But, for real, can we keep the couch for napping and not… whatever this was?”

You and Han exchanged a glance, grinning as you scooted apart. “Deal,” Han said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But no promises about late-night studio sessions.”

Minho rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile on his face. “Just remember, we’re watching you two.”

Han chuckled, pulling you in for one last side hug before everyone started to leave. “I guess we’ll just have to get better at sneaking around.”

As the group dispersed, Chan gave you both a knowing wink. “Looks like we’ve got another couple in the Stray Kids family. Dude you gotta stop cheating on your wife ‘Hyunjin’”

You laughed, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you as you realized how lucky you were to have found not only Han but also a family who supported you both—quirks, secrets, and all.