Stack Of Books

Stack of Books

(blue sticky note ending #1)

han jisung x reader x ot8!! han x reader!!! word count: 3.2k

Blue note alternative ending 1 wherein; you choose han jisung. the friend you hide your feelings for a long time.

an: i made han first because aside from i love his character here, a lot dm'd me to do him first. and i hope you liked it because i put my emotions doing this.

an2: im tagging random people im sorry. if you want to be tagged, don't be afraid to tell me

part 1 and part 2 first

Han Jisung is a friend.

That's what you always told yourself whenever you looked at him and felt the butterflies rumbling in your stomach. But when did those feelings start?

It began the day he sang a song just for you.

You always thought of Han as studious, always with his nose in his stack of books, glasses perched on his nose. Whenever exams loomed, you'd choose him as your study partner, knowing his dedication would motivate you to work harder too. He was the perfect study buddy—focused, reliable, always encouraging you when you felt overwhelmed.

You knew he loved to sing; he often harmonized with Chan, his voice effortlessly slipping into the role of a vocalist whenever they worked on a track together. But seeing him holding a guitar, carefully tuning it, that was something new. Something that stirred a different feeling in you.

When he started singing, that’s when it happened—the spark that set everything else in motion. You were in middle school then, and though you were too young to fully understand it, you knew something had shifted inside you.

From that moment on, you hid your feelings. You were terrified that the bond you'd built would change, that Han would notice the way you lingered a little too long when your eyes met. Besides, it didn’t seem like he was ready for anything more than friendship.

When you first met him, he was crying, heartbroken. That image stuck with you, the way his eyes were red and puffy, the way his voice cracked as he tried to explain what had happened. It made you think, Han must have trauma with love. So you buried your feelings even deeper, where he wouldn’t find them.

As the years passed, you both entered college. Han was as hardworking as ever, never sticking to just one job, always pushing himself to do more. He was always busy, always moving. And that, too, kept your feelings locked away.

But then, when you found out he liked you, it felt surreal. How could this be happening? And when you realized it wasn’t just him… that others had feelings for you too, the weight of it all came crashing down. You felt miserable, confused. How did it all come to this?

You cried in your room, your mind swirling with questions and doubts. You didn’t want to choose anyone because you were terrified it would break the friendships you’d worked so hard to build. But deep down, you knew the real reason—there was someone already in your heart, and the thought of choosing him terrified you.

Love is hard, Han had once said to you, and now, more than ever, you understood what he meant.

You’d always been in love with your friend, Han Jisung. And when you received that blue note, a part of you desperately wanted to believe it was from him. But when the truth came out—that everyone had feelings for you—your instinct was to bury your love even deeper, where it couldn’t hurt anyone.

A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts. You opened it, and there he was—Han, standing in the dim light of the hallway.

Without a word, you collapsed into his arms, letting the tears you’d held back for so long finally flow. All the emotions you’d kept bottled up spilled out as you clung to him, needing the comfort of his presence.

“I’m so sorry,” Han whispered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. We didn’t mean to make you feel this way. Chan talked to us… he told us everything.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him. His eyes, even in the dark, were shining with a sadness that mirrored your own.

“It’s not your fault,” you said softly, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “I just… I never expected things to turn out like this.”

Han’s gaze dropped to the floor, his expression pained. “I should have kept it to myself. None of this would have happened if I had just—”

“Don’t say that,” you interrupted, your voice firmer now. “It’s not your fault.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air. Then, as the silence grew heavier, you spoke, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“I liked you, Han. I’ve always liked you.”

The confession slipped out, and you immediately regretted it, your heart pounding in your chest. Han’s eyes widened, surprise and something else—something unreadable—flickering across his face.

“You… you liked me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, looking away, your cheeks burning. “I'm sorry. I can't help but…to say it."

But instead of pulling away, Han took a step closer, his hand gently tilting your chin up so you were forced to meet his gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And then, when I found out about everyone else… I thought it would be better to just keep it to myself.”

Han’s grip on your chin softened, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “I wish you’d told me,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “I wish I’d known.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the air thick with everything left unsaid. Then, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, Han leaned in closer, his face inches from yours.

But just before your lips could touch, you turned your head away, breaking the moment. “I can’t, Han,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He froze, his breath hitching as he realized what you meant. “I… I understand,” he said, pulling back slightly, though the hurt in his eyes was clear. “But why? Why are you so scared? Is it because you’re afraid of hurting others?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to lose anyone. I don’t want to break the friendships we’ve built.”

Han was silent for a moment, then he gently took your hand in his. “Why don’t you just choose yourself?” he asked quietly. “Choose what you want. Listen to your heart, not what you think others want.”

His words hit you like a wave, the simplicity and truth of them sinking in. Slowly, you turned back to him, and as your eyes met, you saw something in his gaze that gave you the courage to lean in this time.

--

Monday arrived with a heaviness in your chest that you couldn't quite shake. You walked into school, trying to appear normal, but the weight of everything that had happened over the weekend lingered in your mind. As you entered the classroom and took your seat, you could feel the eyes of Changbin and Seungmin on you, their concern palpable even without words.

You glanced up and forced a small smile, hoping it would be enough to ease their worries. Changbin returned the smile, though you could see the tension in his expression soften slightly.

The day dragged on, with every minute feeling like an hour. Your thoughts kept drifting back to the events that had turned your world upside down.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you began to pack your things, your movements slow and deliberate. You were lost in thought when Changbin suddenly appeared beside you, his presence breaking through your reverie. Without a word, he reached out and gently took hold of your wrist.

“Let’s talk,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Before you could respond, he was already guiding you out of the classroom, his grip on your wrist both comforting and insistent. You glanced back at Seungmin, who was watching the two of you with an unreadable expression. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a slight nod, as if to give his silent approval for whatever conversation was about to unfold.

Changbin led you to an empty room, far from the prying eyes of your classmates. The door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing the two of you in a bubble of tense silence. He let go of your wrist slowly, his fingers lingering for just a moment before he stepped back, giving you space.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet between you was thick with unspoken words and emotions that neither of you knew how to express. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the anxiety twisting in your stomach as you waited for him to speak.

Finally, Changbin broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and filled with regret.

You blinked, not expecting those words to be the first thing out of his mouth. “Why would you be sorry?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at the floor, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Because… I know this has been hard on you. I didn’t want to make things complicated. I didn’t want to scare you.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt a pang of guilt twist in your chest. You understood what he was trying to say. Love wasn’t something anyone could control, and feelings, once they took root, were difficult to stop. You knew that all too well.

“I understand,” you said softly, trying to find the right words. “But you don’t have to apologize for how you feel. None of this is your fault.”

Changbin looked up at you then, his eyes filled with a sadness that took your breath away. “I didn’t want anything to change between us,” he admitted, his voice wavering. “That’s why I was a coward. I couldn’t bring myself to say it, so I… I put that note in your binder instead. Like Minho said… it was a coward’s move.”

You hesitated for a moment, the truth sitting heavily on your tongue. But you knew you couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer. “Changbin… I need to tell you something,” you began, your heart racing. “I like Han.”

The words fell from your lips, and you watched as they hit Changbin like a physical blow. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like he’d been punched in the gut. But then he quickly composed himself, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said, though his voice was strained. “I kind of figured… I mean, I always noticed how you looked at him. It’s okay. We can still be friends, right?”

You nodded, though you could see the hurt in his eyes, the way he was trying so hard to pretend it didn’t matter. “Of course, we can,” you assured him, even though you both knew things wouldn’t be the same.

Changbin’s smile faltered, and he looked away, swallowing hard. “This is my punishment,” he said, more to himself than to you. “For playing around with hearts… for being careless.”

“Changbin…” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take it. I’ll take the punishment,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “But I just want you to be happy, okay? Even if it’s not with me.”

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving you standing there with the weight of his words pressing down on you.

-

Jeongin, who always had a knack for making sure you were okay, suddenly sent you a text.

Jeongin: "Hey, how are you?"

You stared at the screen for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The events of the day weighed heavily on your heart, and for once, you decided not to hide it.

You: "I'm not okay."

His reply came almost instantly.

Jeongin: "Where are you? Let me treat you to your favorite toothpaste-flavored ice cream."

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile at his offer. Jeongin knew you too well. The thought of him wanting to keep things normal, to not let anything change between you, filled you with a warmth that eased some of the tension in your chest.

You agreed to meet him at the usual ice cream shop, the one that always smelled of fresh waffle cones and sugary sweetness. When you arrived, Jeongin was already there, waiting for you with a familiar smile. He handed you your favorite mint chocolate ice cream without a word, as if it were a remedy for all your troubles.

You sat down across from him, and he watched you eat, his eyes filled with a quiet concern. He always had this way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when it wasn’t.

After a few minutes, Jeongin finally spoke up. “So, did you talk to Han?”

His question caught you off guard, and your hand froze mid-bite. The truth was, Jeongin knew more than you’d ever admitted out loud. He’d seen it long before you were willing to accept it yourself—the way your eyes lingered on Han, the way your heart seemed to beat a little faster whenever he was near.

Jeongin had always known.

You looked down at your ice cream, unable to meet his eyes. “Yes,” you murmured.

Jeongin nodded, as if he expected that answer. “You know,” he began, his voice gentle, “I’ve known for a while that you liked Han. I saw it from the beginning.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, and tears welled up in your eyes. Before you could wipe them away, Jeongin slid a tissue across the table, his lips curving into a soft smile.

“You look like a kid right now,” he teased lightly. “You’re a year older than me, but sometimes it feels like you’re years younger.”

His playful tone made you laugh, even as you took the tissue and dabbed at your eyes. Jeongin always had a way of lightening the mood, of making everything seem a little less heavy, a little less painful.

“What’s your plan?” he asked, his tone turning more serious.

You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Jeongin. I really don’t know.”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Well, if you don’t know the answer, I’m always here, you know. Just in case.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his playful tone, and Jeongin joined in, his laughter warm and genuine. The sound of it eased some of the burden you’d been carrying, and for a moment, you could almost forget the chaos that had become your life.

Then Jeongin’s expression softened, and he reached across the table to take your hand in his. “Whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “As a friend.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the unwavering support and care that had always been there. Jeongin wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better; he truly meant it. No matter what happened, no matter how complicated things became, you knew you could always count on him.

And that realization brought you a comfort that you desperately needed.

--

You watched Han from your seat, your gaze fixated on him as he stood behind the counter of the library. His attention was focused on the task at hand, scanning the barcodes of borrowed books with a meticulous precision. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow on his features, highlighting the way his glasses framed his eyes. Every now and then, he would adjust them, a small habit you found oddly endearing.

He was always so serious when he worked, so dedicated and focused. It was one of the many things you admired about him. There was something about the way he moved, the quiet efficiency in his actions, that never failed to draw you in.

As you continued to watch him, lost in your thoughts, he suddenly looked up. Your eyes met, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. Han’s expression softened, and he offered you a small, warm smile. It was a smile that reached his eyes, causing them to crinkle at the corners in that familiar way that always made your heart flutter.

You smiled back, your lips curving into a soft grin, the connection between you lingering in the air.

Now, the two of you were seated across from each other at one of the small wooden tables nestled in a quiet corner of the library. Han had finished his shift and joined you without a word, simply taking a seat opposite you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was filled with an understanding that had developed over years of friendship.

You found yourself just looking at him, really looking at him, and suddenly, the weight of everything you’d kept hidden felt overwhelming. The feelings you had tried so hard to suppress, to deny, surged to the surface with a force that left you breathless. You realized, with startling clarity, just how much you liked him—how much you had always liked him.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out, your hand trembling slightly as it found his. His skin was warm against yours, and the simple act of holding his hand felt like a bridge you were finally crossing after standing on the edge for so long.

Your thoughts raced back to all the times you had convinced yourself to stay silent, to keep your feelings hidden for the sake of your friendship. You had tried so hard, told yourself that it was better this way, safer. But now, sitting here with him, with his hand in yours, it all felt so futile, so unnecessary.

A small, bittersweet smile played on your lips as you finally allowed the truth to escape. “I like you, Han.”

The words felt both wrong and right at the same time. Wrong because you had been so determined to never let them slip, and right because, at this moment, it felt like a release, a weight lifted off your shoulders. The vulnerability in your voice made your heart race, but it also brought a sense of relief you hadn’t expected.

Han’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but only for a moment. Then, his expression softened, and he squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t know how much I like you.”

A quiet, shared laugh bubbled up between you, both of you mindful of the library’s hushed atmosphere. It was a laugh filled with nervousness and relief, a shared understanding that you had finally crossed a line that had been looming between you for so long.

As you sat there, your hands still intertwined, you realized something important. No matter how hard you had tried to control your feelings, to dictate what your heart should or shouldn’t do, it was impossible. The heart had a mind of its own, leading you to places you hadn’t expected, to emotions you hadn’t planned.

You couldn’t force yourself to stop liking him, just as you couldn’t force your heart to stay silent any longer. And now, sitting here with Han, his hand in yours, you were glad you hadn’t tried to.

----

blue sticky note part 1. part 2.

an: ill do minho next

@rose-strk @spearbinnie0327 @ihrtlix @dontaskmemybias @kay-bear200 @hpnsfwaddict @hug4helios @furioussheepluminary @stay-tiny-things @velvetmoonlght @thejentheredhead @wolfiescosplay @eatjin97 @sleepytemper @tajannah-price1 @butterflydemons @just-a-mindless-reader

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!

welcome to kaye's garden!

warning: full of fluff

ask me anything here!

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.

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.

note: this will update timely note2: also please bear with me im a 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)

Want so Bad

genre:; fluff and (..) word count: 3.9K

Minho x reader! Minho x fem. reader!!

wherein: Minho is everything you never wanted in life. But he wants you….so bad.

(an: this is my favorite and i had fun writing while listening to Minho and Jisung's "Want so Bad" again and again and again. so i hope you enjoy reading it!! a comment, like, and reblog is very much appreciated)

"Why are you here?"

You roll your eyes, barely glancing up at the person standing in front of you, your voice dripping with boredom.

"I'm here because I miss you," he replies, winking at you in that infuriating way that always makes you cringe.

You’re in your living room, buried in your textbooks, when this boy suddenly appears in front of you, as if someone summoned him from nowhere.

Minho.

He’s your brother Jisung’s best friend in the entire world—or so they claim. There’s a three-year gap between you and them. They’re in their final year of college, while you’re just a freshman.

You would give him a proper introduction, but the truth is, you can't stand him. You’ve hated him ever since you were 15. He and Jisung have always loved teasing you, making your life miserable whenever they could.

"Jisung! Your favorite family member is here!" you shout, unable to handle Minho’s relentless teasing any longer. Sure, you’re in college now and supposed to be more mature (or so you tell yourself), but after years of dealing with them, you’ve become accustomed to hating their antics.

"I wasn’t even part of the family… but I guess I will be after I marry one of the family members," Minho smirks, his voice dripping with mischief.

"Then go marry my brother," you retort, your expression as nonchalant as ever.

He laughs and casually snatches the book you were studying. You’re so used to his flirty teasing by now that it barely fazes you.

It all started back in high school when Jisung teased you relentlessly, convinced you had a crush on Minho. He found it on your pink diary and read it out loud, complete with the cheesy music that played whenever you opened it. (Well, you did have a crush on Minho back then, but it faded over time.)

Jisung teased you so much that you cried your eyes out, and then he told Minho all about it, sparking years of torment.

"Oh no, my sister might actually ace her exams now that she’s seen her only inspiration," Jisung chimes in as he walks down the stairs, pulling on a t-shirt. You roll your eyes at him too.

"I think I should come over more often. I might just make your sister the top student," Minho adds with a grin.

There goes your peaceful day.

But thankfully, they don’t bother you too much, as they soon move to the kitchen to eat. You try to refocus on your studies, but chemistry is giving you a hard time, so you pop in your earbuds and pull up a tutorial on YouTube. Just as you’re getting into it, a glass of orange juice and a muffin appear on your table (or rather, on top of your notebook).

"Eat, little devil. Food helps you focus more," Jisung says, placing the snacks down.

You mumble a quick thanks, thinking he’ll leave, but instead, he plops down on the couch behind you. You’re sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, your books and notes spread out on the coffee table in front of you. Then, without a care in the world, Jisung props his legs up on the table, acting as if your things are invisible.

You were almost touched by your brother’s gesture… but never mind.

"Yah!" You glare at him, but he just shrugs and turns on the TV, putting on a movie. A minute later, Minho joins him.

"What are you studying, kid?" Minho asks, even though he’s already glanced at your book.

"None of your business."

"Oh, is that a new subject? I’ve never heard of it before."

Argh.

"You should help her, Minho. I heard from her professor that she scored low on a quiz," Jisung says, his tone annoyingly casual.

How does he know that?

"Really?" Minho leans forward, peering at what you’re writing. "Well, chemistry is indeed tough."

"Help her out. You always got high scores in that subject back in the day."

You’re listening to them while half-heartedly writing, your earbuds now turned down low. You’re trying to pretend they’re just ghosts, but hearing them talk about your struggles in chemistry makes you want to join the conversation.

"Sure, if you give me that game console," Minho quips.

"On second thought, I think my sister will manage just fine."

Arghhh.

You can’t take it anymore. You gather up your things, smack your brother’s leg, and stomp upstairs.

Later, you’re back in your study area, trying to focus again when there’s a knock on your door. It can only be one of them since the three of you are the only ones at home. Your parents are working, even on a Sunday.

"What?!" you yell, your irritation clear.

You’re about to open the door when it swings open on its own, revealing Minho.

"You shouldn’t talk like that to your tutor," he says, flicking your forehead.

"Ow!"

Tutor? Jisung must’ve given him the console.

You don’t bother complaining because, aside from being tired… well, yeah, you’re just too tired.

"You should listen well, okay? If you don’t, we won’t get married," Minho teases, treating you like a child as always. You hate it, but you’re too drained to argue.

"Okay." You roll your eyes for the ninth time and settle in to listen as he starts to explain.

The tutorial is full of bickering and Minho’s relentless teasing, but unexpectedly, you finally understand the material. Your questions are answered, and for the first time in a while, you feel a bit of relief.

"Thank you," you say as you bid him goodbye.

"Goodbye. Let me know when you get home. And say hi to your baby cats for me," your brother says, waving Minho off.

"How did your chemistry exam go?"

You’re happy with your results and you share them with Minho.

"I got an almost perfect score!"

"Really?" He messes up your hair. "Then you should thank me. You owe me."

"I’ll get Jisung’s console for you," you joke

Minho is at your house again. He says they have a group study session, but Jisung isn’t home yet. You both settled into the living room, the hum of the TV in the background as Minho lounged on the couch, his legs stretched out comfortably. You took a seat on the floor, leaning against the couch, your study materials spread out on the coffee table.

“So, what else do you need help with, little genius?” Minho teased, nudging your shoulder with his foot.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I don’t need your help again, Mr. Top Student. I can manage just fine on my own.”

Minho chuckled, the sound light and teasing. “Sure, you can. But remember, you owe me for that almost perfect score. I think I might start charging for my tutoring services.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you, his expression softening slightly. “You know, you’re pretty impressive. Balancing all this studying and still managing to have a sense of humor.”

You felt a small flutter in your stomach at his words, a sensation that caught you off guard. You quickly masked it with a smirk. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Minho.”

He grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Who says I’m flattering you? I’m just stating facts.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words got caught in your throat when you met his gaze. There was something different in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. The usual playful glint was still there, but beneath it was a warmth that made you feel… special.

You quickly looked away, focusing on the notes in front of you, trying to shake off the unexpected feeling. “Anyway, where’s this group of yours? I thought you were supposed to be studying.”

Minho shrugged, casually twirling a pen between his fingers. “They’re running late. I guess they’re not as eager to study as I am.”

“Right, because you’re so eager,” you muttered, the sarcasm clear in your voice.

He chuckled again, the sound warm and familiar. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you. You’re much more fun than Jisung.”

Your heart fluttered again, and you bit your lip, trying to keep your cool. “You’re just saying that because I actually study, unlike my brother.”

“True,” he agreed, his tone light. “But also because you’re interesting. I never know what you’re going to say next.”

You were about to respond when you heard the front door open and Jisung’s voice echo through the house. “I’m back! Did I miss anything?”

You quickly straightened up, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment that your brother had arrived. Minho, however, just smiled, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “We’ll continue this later.”

Your breath hitched at the closeness, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. As Minho pulled back with a wink, you felt the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

Jisung entered the living room, oblivious to the tension that had suddenly filled the air. “Hey, what are you two up to?”

“Just studying,” Minho replied casually, as if nothing had happened, though the smirk on his face told a different story.

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. “Yeah, just studying.”

But as you glanced at Minho, who was now chatting with your brother like everything was normal, you couldn’t help but wonder if things between you had just shifted in a way you hadn’t expected. And as much as you tried to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the fact that, for the first time, Minho’s teasing had made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite understand.

You were walking through the university courtyard, your thoughts scattered as you mentally planned your study schedule for the rest of the day. It had been a busy week, and you were looking forward to some peace and quiet when you suddenly spotted Minho across the way. He was chatting animatedly with a girl, her laughter ringing out as he carried a stack of books for her.

You instinctively slowed your pace, your eyes lingering on them for a moment longer than you intended. The girl was pretty, with a bright smile and an easygoing vibe that made her seem instantly likable. She playfully nudged Minho with her shoulder, and he grinned back at her, that familiar teasing spark in his eyes.

For a second, you considered changing your route, avoiding the interaction altogether. But then you stopped yourself. Why would you do that? It’s not like it mattered. It wasn’t like you cared who Minho was talking to, or how close they seemed. Right?

So you took a deep breath and kept walking, your expression carefully neutral as you approached them. As you got closer, Minho caught sight of you, and his grin widened.

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” he called out, his voice full of mock surprise. “You just couldn’t resist, could you? Saw my handsome face and had to come over.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Oh please, I just happened to be walking by. Don’t flatter yourself.”

The girl next to him laughed at your banter, and you noticed the way she lightly slapped his arm, a gesture that spoke of familiarity. It was clear they were close. Your eyes flickered to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of something—what was it? Jealousy? Annoyance? Whatever it was, you quickly pushed it down.

Minho noticed your glance and, as if reading your mind, raised an eyebrow. “Ah, sorry. Where are my manners? This is Seoyun, a friend from my class. Seoyun, this is my little genius here,” he added with a teasing smirk.

You gave her a polite nod, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at the word “friend.” “Nice to meet you, Seoyun.”

“Nice to meet you too!” she replied cheerfully. “Minho’s told me a lot about you. He says you’re quite the brainiac.”

You shot Minho a look, and he just grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to keep him in line,” you said, your tone light but with a hint of sarcasm.

Seoyun laughed again, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable they seemed together. It was… unsettling in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint. But you weren’t about to dwell on it.

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” you said, glancing at your watch. “Places to be, things to study.”

“Always so busy,” Minho said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “But you know, all work and no play…”

“…keeps you out of trouble,” you finished for him with a smirk. “But don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.”

Seoyun smiled at you again, giving a little wave. “It was nice meeting you. Hopefully, we’ll see each other around.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you replied, waving back before turning to continue on your way.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, just once, to see Minho and Seoyun laughing together as they continued their conversation. You tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that settled in your chest, brushing it off as nothing.

‘She must be his girlfriend,’ you thought to yourself, trying to sound nonchalant even in your own mind. And then you shrugged, forcing yourself to focus on your day ahead. ‘Why would I care?’

But even as you walked away, you couldn’t quite shake the image of them together, the way they seemed to fit so naturally. And for the first time, Minho’s teasing didn’t just annoy you—it made you feel something deeper, something you weren’t ready to face just yet.

“Hey.”

You looked up at the voice calling your name. It was Jeongin, your classmate.

“We got paired for the presentation,” he reminded you. Oh! You remembered now, probably too occupied with other subjects to focus on this. “If you don’t mind, can we start after class? That way we’ll finish early and can focus on other things.”

“Sure,” you agreed, appreciating his practical suggestion.

“Great. We should head to a coffee shop after this.”

After class, you walked together, discussing the presentation details. Jeongin had some good ideas, and you found yourself easily slipping into a productive conversation. The atmosphere between you two was relaxed, and soon you arrived at the coffee shop.

“What do you want?” Jeongin asked as you both approached the counter.

“Latte, please,” you replied, smiling. “Thanks.”

As Jeongin went to order, you scanned the room, your eyes landing on a familiar figure. Minho. He was with a group of friends, casually chatting. When he looked up, his gaze met yours. He smirked at you, and you were about to wave, but then he broke the eye contact and turned his attention back to the person next to him. You scanned the group quickly, noticing your brother wasn’t there.

You tried to focus on your work, but you kept catching Minho glancing at you from the corner of your eye. For the first time, you wondered what he thought of seeing you with another guy. The idea made you smirk a little, enjoying the small twist of the situation. Minho, always so sure of himself, might just be a little thrown off by this.

Jeongin returned with your latte and his own drink, setting them down on the table.

“Ready to get started?” he asked, pulling out his notes.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” you replied, pushing the thoughts of Minho to the back of your mind—for now, at least.

You were studying in the living room, the soft murmur of a video tutorial explaining organic chemistry filling the space. You were too focused to notice Minho entering your house until his voice broke through your concentration.

“Hey, my favorite person,” he greeted with a playful smile.

You glanced around, looking behind you and to the sides. “My brother’s not here,” you stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Of course you are the one I meant. My favorite person.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “If Soonie, Doongie, and Dori were people, they’d be your favorites.”

“Of course,” he agreed, his tone light.

You returned to your studies, but Minho didn’t leave. Instead, he plopped down on the couch, stretching out as if he had all the time in the world. You tried to ignore him, but it wasn’t long before he broke the silence again.

“So, who was that guy you were with at the café earlier?” His tone was casual, but you could feel the underlying curiosity.

You hesitated, not sure how to respond. You didn’t have to be honest, but something made you want to see how he would react. “He’s a suitor,” you said nonchalantly, not looking up from your notebook.

Minho’s expression shifted slightly, but he quickly masked it, leaning back with a smirk. “A suitor, huh? I should tell your brother. Maybe he’ll confiscate your phone so you can focus on studying.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a spark of irritation. “I’m not a kid, Minho. I can decide who I want to spend time with.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, really? You’re still just a freshman. You should focus on your studies instead of getting distracted by things like relationships.”

Your irritation grew. “What about you? You’re in a relationship with that girl you were walking with, but I can’t be in one?”

Minho’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before he quickly composed himself. He knew you were jealous, and he had to hide the smile threatening to break through. “So, you were jealous?” he teased, leaning forward.

You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks, and you stood up abruptly, gathering your things. “I’m not jealous,” you snapped, turning on your heel to head back to your room.

As you walked away, Minho couldn’t help but smile. He knew you were, even if you wouldn’t admit it, and that only made him like you more.

Life continues as usual, with your brother Jisung and Minho still finding every opportunity to tease you. Tomorrow is their graduation day, and as you walk into your brother's room to borrow a math book, you decide to ask him a question that's been on your mind.

"Jisung, what’s your plan after graduation?"

You’re genuinely curious, even if you’d never admit it to his face. Despite all the sibling rivalry, you’re proud of him for making it this far.

"Probably end up unemployed," he replies with a shrug.

You give him a deadpan look. What answer did you expect, anyway?

"Obviously, I’ll take the board exam first, then start job hunting," he says while folding his clothes. Then he glances at you, squinting. "You’re not asking because you’re curious about Minho, are you?"

Yeah…no!

You quickly throw a pillow at him, trying to hide your flustered expression. "Do you really think my world revolves around him?" Jisung catches the pillow and smirks, clearly not convinced.

"Even if you don't ask about Minho, I'll tell you anyway. Remember when I told you to spend more time with him? You should’ve listened, because after graduation, he’s going abroad. There’s a job offer waiting for him."

Oh…

You manage a nonchalant nod, but as you leave his room, the news weighs heavily on your mind.

That night, as you lie in bed, you can’t help but replay Jisung’s words over and over. Minho is leaving. The thought sends a strange ache through your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s not a big deal, that his absence won’t matter—but deep down, you know it will.

Graduation day arrives in a whirlwind of excitement. Your parents are there, beaming with pride, and you stand among the crowd, clutching a bouquet of flowers. You watch as your brother and his friends, including Minho, happily pose for group pictures, congratulating each other and hugging in celebration of finally finishing their studies. The joy is infectious, but there's a tinge of sadness in your heart.

Minho is leaving.

The thought lingers, even as you force yourself to focus on the present moment.

"Hey, little devil, take a picture of us," your brother calls out to you. You roll your eyes at the nickname but comply, grabbing the Polaroid camera hanging around your neck. It is his day, after all.

You snap the picture, capturing their bright smiles and laughter. The moment is perfect, but it tugs at your heartstrings.

Minho is leaving.

No matter how much you’ve pretended to hate him, the truth is, you’re going to miss him more than you’d like to admit.

"Are these my flowers?" your brother asks, reaching for the bouquet in your hands. You quickly hide it behind your back.

"They’re not yours! Mom has your flowers," you retort, giving him a playful glare.

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief, probably know what you are planning. "Okay, okay, I get it."

Just then, Minho approaches you, his usual teasing grin in place. "Can you take a picture of me? So you’ll have a souvenir picture of me," he said with a wink.

Pushing aside the urge to roll your eyes. Today, you’re happy for him, even if it’s bittersweet.

"Ha ha ha, I’m honored," you reply with mock sarcasm, but you can’t help laughing with him. You snap the picture, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

"We should take a picture together too," he says suddenly, taking the camera from your hands. He hands it to one of his classmates and stands beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder. You try to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, secretly pleased to have a picture with him. You’re going to miss him.

After the picture is taken, you slowly extend the bouquet toward him. "These are for you. Congratulations."

Minho’s eyes light up with surprise and genuine happiness as he takes the flowers. "It’s my first time receiving flowers. I’m blushing," he says with a laugh. Then, with a mischievous grin, he adds, "Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? Wait, I need to think about it."

He presses a finger to his temple, pretending to be deep in thought.

You slap his arm lightly, laughing. "It’s a farewell gift, you idiot."

"Wait, you should give me more time to think," he says, closing his eyes dramatically. After a few seconds, he opens them with a playful glint. "Yes. I will be your boyfriend."

You freeze, caught off guard. What?

"So from now on, you’re my girlfriend," he declares, and before you can react, he leans in and plants a quick kiss on your lips.

Your mind spins as his words sink in. "I promised myself I’d wait until you graduate, but I can’t help it—especially since I’m going far away, someone might take you from me." he says softly and laughs, messing with your hair. "So wait for me, okay? I promise I’ll come back to you."

It takes a moment, but you finally manage a small nod, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho smiles back, his eyes filled with warmth.

You realize then,

more than ever,

that you want him

just as much as he wants you.

Maybe this time

genre: exes to lovers (?)! angst with happy ending!! word count: 2.6k

Han Jisung x reader!! han x fem reader

wherein; Two old friends reunite and reminisce about their shared past. As they reconnect, they wonder if time can bridge the gap they left behind. Will their bond pick up where it left off, or will this meeting pave the way for a new chapter? maybe this time…

(i really want to write this before and glad i finally made it i hope you like it!!)

ps: im sorry i dont really make another part in my works because i want to leave it as open ending and let my readers continue the story on their own. but if i have time and decide to make, ill promise ill make one (especially 'want so bad')

but i hope you enjoy reading because i love making this fic. thank youu. love lots :) please love this as much i love it

Life… is beautiful.

Even if it is full of pain, sadness, and hurt.

Even if it is full of tears, there are also moments of happiness, smiles, and gladness.

Life is a roller coaster. It lifts you up, then plunges you down, only to rise again. When you step into the cart for the first time, you know it will bring a whirlwind of emotions—fear, joy, anxiety. You know from the start what to expect, yet you still take the ride because deep down, you believe it will be worth it in the end.

You smile as you finish writing the last sentence in your book, the final period punctuating months of dedication and passion. It's done. After all the hard work, the late nights, and the self-doubt, it's finally finished.

You stand up, stretching your back with a satisfied sigh, and decide that a reward is in order. You change into your exercise outfit, slip on your earphones, and set the timer on your watch.

30 minutes.

You head out, jogging through the park outside your apartment. The weather is perfect—a gentle breeze, the sun filtering through the trees, a few people scattered around, minding their own business. You focus on your breathing, your feet hitting the pavement in a steady rhythm, the world around you fading into the background.

As you reach a shaded path, you feel the need to pause and catch your breath. You slow down, resting your hands on your knees. Suddenly, a hand lands on your shoulder, startling you.

You jump slightly, turning to see who it is. The surprise on your face deepens when you see him.

He’s breathless, his chest heaving as he holds up an index finger, gesturing for a moment of silence. “I’m… sorry,” he says between gasps. “Give me… one second… to catch my breath.”

You stand there, stunned. The face in front of you is one you haven't seen in years.

It’s Han—your first love.

“Nice to see you again,” he finally says, a grin spreading across his face.

You’re speechless for a moment, your mind racing to catch up. “Han… I can’t believe it’s you!” The shock wears off, replaced by a wave of warmth and nostalgia. You reach out and hug him, the familiar scent and feel of him bringing back a flood of memories.

He laughs, hugging you back and patting your shoulder. “I saw you while I was driving and I had to stop. I called out to you, but then I realized you had earphones on.” He chuckles, still slightly out of breath.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, pulling back to look at him properly. “I’m so surprised to see you! How have you been?”

“I’m fine, doing well. It’s so good to see you again.”

“Me too!”

The moment feels surreal as if you’re in a dream. You find yourselves sitting in a cozy café, sipping your favorite strawberry latte while he enjoys a slice of red velvet cake. The scene feels like a perfect snapshot of your reunion, a peaceful moment in the midst of life’s chaos.

Han was your first love, the boy who held your hand when you were just 13. Back then, you both thought you understood love—childish dreams of the future, talking about getting married, and planning a life together as if you knew what it all meant.

You smile, lost in the memories of those innocent days.

-

“Let’s get married,” he had said one time, both of you sitting on a bench, holding hands.

You stopped munching on your favorite snack, looking at him. His eyes, filled with affection, sparkled like they held tiny beating hearts. If this were an animated movie, there would be hearts popping out of them.

“Yes, when we’re adults,” you replied with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“That’s a promise, okay?”

“Yeah, a promise.” And with that, you linked pinky fingers, sealing the promise with the innocent trust only kids have.

-

“How are you?” you ask now, your eyes locking with his. The happiness in his face is contagious.

“I’m doing well, healthy and living life to the fullest.” He smiles, and it’s the same smile you remember—genuine, warm, unchanging.

“I’m glad to hear that. Really,” you say, feeling the warmth of his presence spreading through you.

“I’m really glad to see you too. How about you?”

“I’m doing fine, healthy as well. Life hasn’t always been easy, but I’m at a point where I’m happy and living my best life.”

“Thank God for that,” he says, his voice full of sincerity.

Hearing those words from him makes you both sigh, a shared sense of relief washing over you.

“I saw you on TV. You’re a famous writer now. You don’t know how proud I am of you,” he says, his voice full of admiration. “I’m glad you achieved your dream.”

His words hit you deep, emotions welling up. “Thank you.”

Being a writer had always been your dream.

-

“When I grow up, I want to be a famous writer. I’ll write books that inspire people,” you had said, lying on the grass, looking up at the stars with Han beside you. You held your pen up like a magic wand, closing one eye as you imagined the future.

“And I hope you achieve that dream,” he had said, taking your hand and holding it tight.

You had smiled at his words, feeling the warmth of his support.

“What about you? What do you want to do when we grow up?” you asked, turning to look at him.

“Me?” He had looked at you, then back at the stars. “Aside from being with you, which is my ultimate dream, I want to become an engineer.”

“An engineer?”

“Yeah… I want to build a big house for us. A really big house.”

You had felt a pang of emotion then, knowing how much he longed for a family and a place to call home.

-

“And you, Han?” you ask now, watching as his smile grows even wider.

“I’m now a licensed engineer.”

“Oh my God, really?!” You can’t contain your excitement, jumping up from your seat to hug him again. “I’m so proud of you, Han! You finally achieved your dream.”

He laughs, happiness radiating from both of you as you hold each other.

“I’m proud of us,” he says, hugging you back tightly.

You pull away, a little embarrassed by your outburst. “I’m so sorry, I just got so happy to hear that, Han.” You sit back down, smiling shyly.

“It’s okay, I’m really happy for us too.”

Han goes on to tell you about his work. He’s the engineer responsible for a new apartment complex in the city. That’s why you crossed paths again. As he talks, you listen intently, your heart swelling with pride for the man he has become.

You nearly tear up as he shares his journey—the hardships, the trials, the long years of studying. He worked hard, from kindergarten all the way to college, never losing sight of his dream. And now, he’s living it.

“I’m finished talking about me. Now, let’s talk about you,” he says, turning the focus back to you.

You fall silent, memories flooding back. You remember the times when you almost gave up on your dream, when no one bought your books, and your work gathered dust on the shelves. You remember walking through bookstores, seeing your book in the corner, covers nearly torn from being ignored.

You remember the despair, the feeling that maybe your dream was just that—a dream. But then, something changed. A light entered your life, lifting you up, guiding you to where you are now. It was hard—so hard—but you persevered, and now you’re here, a successful author with stories that touch people’s hearts.

Tears fill your eyes as you tell him this, the emotions too strong to hold back.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away,” you laugh through the tears, wiping them with a tissue he hands you.

He’s still a gentleman, just like he always was.

“I’m glad for you,” he says softly.

“I’m glad for us,” you reply, feeling a profound connection to him, even after all these years.

-

“What will happen after we achieve our dreams?” you had asked him once, walking together along a tree-lined path. It was fall, and you kicked at the leaves, watching them swirl in the breeze.

“We’ll get married. I’ll buy you the shiniest ring in the world,” he had said, his voice full of determination.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it’s not the shiniest ring in the world… I’ll still marry you.”

“For real?”

“Yes. You’re the only one I want to spend my life with. You’ll build our big house, and I’ll be the most famous writer in the world. We’ll be happy together, forever.”

“And you’ll still wear the shiniest ring in the world because that’s what you deserve,” he had said, holding your hand and kissing it gently.

“I love you,” you had mumbled, your heart full of emotion.

“I love you too.”

And under the falling leaves, you had kissed him for the first time.

-

The conversation between you both gradually trails off, leaving an unspoken tension hanging in the air. The café's ambient sounds—the quiet clinks of cups, the murmur of distant conversations—fade into the background. It feels as though the world outside has paused, allowing you both to be suspended in this fragile moment. You’re unsure if he remembers the past as vividly as you do, but meeting him again has stirred memories you had long buried. The memories of the happy moments you shared, the laughter, the dreams—it all comes rushing back with a bittersweet intensity.

There’s a question burning in your heart, one that you’ve held onto for years. But as you open your mouth to speak, the words falter on your lips. You hesitate, the weight of the past pressing down on you. You’re not sure if you should ask—if you even have the right to.

-

"Let’s break up," you had said, your voice trembling as you turned your back on him, trying to hold yourself together. The words tasted bitter, foreign, as they left your mouth.

"Why?" His voice had cracked, laced with confusion and desperation, forcing you to turn and face him. The sight of his pleading eyes, full of pain, made your resolve waver.

"I don’t know. I don’t deserve you. I don’t love you anymore…" The lie felt like a knife twisting in your chest, each word cutting deeper. You couldn’t look him in the eye, knowing that the truth would betray the facade you were trying to maintain. "And… we’re leaving. We won’t be coming back."

You forced the tears to stay at bay, but when you heard the way his voice cracked, the dam you had built burst. The tears you had tried so hard to hold back streamed down your face, unstoppable.

"Why would you do that to me?" he had asked, his voice barely above a whisper, full of hurt.

"I don’t know. You should find someone else to achieve your dreams with. I have things I need to focus on in my life too. I don’t want to spend my life tied to you," you had said, forcing yourself to face him as you delivered those final, hurtful words. The look in his eyes as he bowed his head, defeated, had nearly broken you.

He was only a boy then, but he had known what love was, what it meant to make someone a part of your life. You had been his life, his future, his everything. How could he continue when the one person he wanted to build that life with had just walked away?

And so, you had left him, without looking back, disappearing from his life as if you had never been a part of it.

-

But now, years later, here he is, sitting in front of you, smiling as if nothing had changed. He’s happy to see you, proud of the person you’ve become, despite the hurtful words you once threw at him. And that, more than anything, tears at your heart.

A single tear escapes your eye before you can stop it, and you quickly wipe it away, hoping he didn’t notice.

"So, do you have a family now?" The question slips out, carrying with it the years of wondering, of what-ifs.

"I…" he begins, but before he can finish, the door of the café chimes, and a beautiful woman walks in, her presence commanding attention. She makes her way to your table, and you watch as Han stands up to greet her, the fondness in his eyes unmistakable.

"Honey…" he says, and your heart skips a beat. The word echoes in your mind, heavy with implications.

Honey?

Confused, you watch as they hug each other warmly, the scene playing out before you like a slow-motion reel. It feels surreal, like you’re watching from a distance, even though you’re right there.

"Honey, this is my friend I told you about," Han says, introducing you with a smile. He then turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. "This is my fiancée."

Fiancée.

The word hits you like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of you. You force a smile, accepting her hand for a handshake, even as you feel a pang of pain in your heart

She sits down, joining your conversation with an easy grace, and you can’t help but notice how happy they are together. The way they look at each other, the subtle touches, the smiles—it’s clear that they’re deeply in love, a love that’s mutual and uncomplicated.

you look at the shiniest ring they were wearing.

You’re glad for Han. He deserves this happiness, this life he’s built. He’s finally living his dream, the dream that you once shared but were never meant to fulfill together. He’s found someone to continue that dream with, someone who will stand by his side as he builds the future you both once imagined.

The hurt lingers, but it’s softened by a genuine happiness for him. You’re happy that he’s happy, because that's what he deserve: happiness

Your thoughts are interrupted as the café owner sets your additional drinks down on the table. “Here’s your order,” he says. You murmur a soft thank you, still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions.

“No need to pay for your drinks,” the owner adds with a warm smile. “It’s on me.”

"No, I insist on paying for us," you replied, trying to cover up the flutter of in your chest.

"It's fine, babe," he said, chuckling as he gently pressed the matter.

"Really, it's okay," you laughed, looking between him and Han, who were both clearly confused by the exchange.

"Ah, by the way, I forgot to introduce you," you said, standing up with a smile. You gestured to the man beside you. "This is Hyunjin, the owner of the café."

"Hello, I'm Hyunjin," he said, extending his hand for a handshake. "I'm her boyfriend."

Han's eyes widened in surprise, his confusion evident as he looked between you and Hyunjin.

You laughed at Han's bewildered expression, and soon the table was filled with lighthearted laughter once again.

Life, you thought, was indeed full of surprises and plot twists. Just when you thought you knew how things would turn out, the unexpected happens.

But despite the twists and turns, one thing remains true: life is beautiful.

Want so Bad

genre:; fluff and (..) word count: 3.9K

Minho x reader! Minho x fem. reader!!

wherein: Minho is everything you never wanted in life. But he wants you….so bad.

(an: this is my favorite and i had fun writing while listening to Minho and Jisung's "Want so Bad" again and again and again. so i hope you enjoy reading it!! a comment, like, and reblog is very much appreciated)

"Why are you here?"

You roll your eyes, barely glancing up at the person standing in front of you, your voice dripping with boredom.

"I'm here because I miss you," he replies, winking at you in that infuriating way that always makes you cringe.

You’re in your living room, buried in your textbooks, when this boy suddenly appears in front of you, as if someone summoned him from nowhere.

Minho.

He’s your brother Jisung’s best friend in the entire world—or so they claim. There’s a three-year gap between you and them. They’re in their final year of college, while you’re just a freshman.

You would give him a proper introduction, but the truth is, you can't stand him. You’ve hated him ever since you were 15. He and Jisung have always loved teasing you, making your life miserable whenever they could.

"Jisung! Your favorite family member is here!" you shout, unable to handle Minho’s relentless teasing any longer. Sure, you’re in college now and supposed to be more mature (or so you tell yourself), but after years of dealing with them, you’ve become accustomed to hating their antics.

"I wasn’t even part of the family… but I guess I will be after I marry one of the family members," Minho smirks, his voice dripping with mischief.

"Then go marry my brother," you retort, your expression as nonchalant as ever.

He laughs and casually snatches the book you were studying. You’re so used to his flirty teasing by now that it barely fazes you.

It all started back in high school when Jisung teased you relentlessly, convinced you had a crush on Minho. He found it on your pink diary and read it out loud, complete with the cheesy music that played whenever you opened it. (Well, you did have a crush on Minho back then, but it faded over time.)

Jisung teased you so much that you cried your eyes out, and then he told Minho all about it, sparking years of torment.

"Oh no, my sister might actually ace her exams now that she’s seen her only inspiration," Jisung chimes in as he walks down the stairs, pulling on a t-shirt. You roll your eyes at him too.

"I think I should come over more often. I might just make your sister the top student," Minho adds with a grin.

There goes your peaceful day.

But thankfully, they don’t bother you too much, as they soon move to the kitchen to eat. You try to refocus on your studies, but chemistry is giving you a hard time, so you pop in your earbuds and pull up a tutorial on YouTube. Just as you’re getting into it, a glass of orange juice and a muffin appear on your table (or rather, on top of your notebook).

"Eat, little devil. Food helps you focus more," Jisung says, placing the snacks down.

You mumble a quick thanks, thinking he’ll leave, but instead, he plops down on the couch behind you. You’re sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, your books and notes spread out on the coffee table in front of you. Then, without a care in the world, Jisung props his legs up on the table, acting as if your things are invisible.

You were almost touched by your brother’s gesture… but never mind.

"Yah!" You glare at him, but he just shrugs and turns on the TV, putting on a movie. A minute later, Minho joins him.

"What are you studying, kid?" Minho asks, even though he’s already glanced at your book.

"None of your business."

"Oh, is that a new subject? I’ve never heard of it before."

Argh.

"You should help her, Minho. I heard from her professor that she scored low on a quiz," Jisung says, his tone annoyingly casual.

How does he know that?

"Really?" Minho leans forward, peering at what you’re writing. "Well, chemistry is indeed tough."

"Help her out. You always got high scores in that subject back in the day."

You’re listening to them while half-heartedly writing, your earbuds now turned down low. You’re trying to pretend they’re just ghosts, but hearing them talk about your struggles in chemistry makes you want to join the conversation.

"Sure, if you give me that game console," Minho quips.

"On second thought, I think my sister will manage just fine."

Arghhh.

You can’t take it anymore. You gather up your things, smack your brother’s leg, and stomp upstairs.

Later, you’re back in your study area, trying to focus again when there’s a knock on your door. It can only be one of them since the three of you are the only ones at home. Your parents are working, even on a Sunday.

"What?!" you yell, your irritation clear.

You’re about to open the door when it swings open on its own, revealing Minho.

"You shouldn’t talk like that to your tutor," he says, flicking your forehead.

"Ow!"

Tutor? Jisung must’ve given him the console.

You don’t bother complaining because, aside from being tired… well, yeah, you’re just too tired.

"You should listen well, okay? If you don’t, we won’t get married," Minho teases, treating you like a child as always. You hate it, but you’re too drained to argue.

"Okay." You roll your eyes for the ninth time and settle in to listen as he starts to explain.

The tutorial is full of bickering and Minho’s relentless teasing, but unexpectedly, you finally understand the material. Your questions are answered, and for the first time in a while, you feel a bit of relief.

"Thank you," you say as you bid him goodbye.

"Goodbye. Let me know when you get home. And say hi to your baby cats for me," your brother says, waving Minho off.

"How did your chemistry exam go?"

You’re happy with your results and you share them with Minho.

"I got an almost perfect score!"

"Really?" He messes up your hair. "Then you should thank me. You owe me."

"I’ll get Jisung’s console for you," you joke

Minho is at your house again. He says they have a group study session, but Jisung isn’t home yet. You both settled into the living room, the hum of the TV in the background as Minho lounged on the couch, his legs stretched out comfortably. You took a seat on the floor, leaning against the couch, your study materials spread out on the coffee table.

“So, what else do you need help with, little genius?” Minho teased, nudging your shoulder with his foot.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I don’t need your help again, Mr. Top Student. I can manage just fine on my own.”

Minho chuckled, the sound light and teasing. “Sure, you can. But remember, you owe me for that almost perfect score. I think I might start charging for my tutoring services.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you, his expression softening slightly. “You know, you’re pretty impressive. Balancing all this studying and still managing to have a sense of humor.”

You felt a small flutter in your stomach at his words, a sensation that caught you off guard. You quickly masked it with a smirk. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Minho.”

He grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Who says I’m flattering you? I’m just stating facts.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words got caught in your throat when you met his gaze. There was something different in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. The usual playful glint was still there, but beneath it was a warmth that made you feel… special.

You quickly looked away, focusing on the notes in front of you, trying to shake off the unexpected feeling. “Anyway, where’s this group of yours? I thought you were supposed to be studying.”

Minho shrugged, casually twirling a pen between his fingers. “They’re running late. I guess they’re not as eager to study as I am.”

“Right, because you’re so eager,” you muttered, the sarcasm clear in your voice.

He chuckled again, the sound warm and familiar. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you. You’re much more fun than Jisung.”

Your heart fluttered again, and you bit your lip, trying to keep your cool. “You’re just saying that because I actually study, unlike my brother.”

“True,” he agreed, his tone light. “But also because you’re interesting. I never know what you’re going to say next.”

You were about to respond when you heard the front door open and Jisung’s voice echo through the house. “I’m back! Did I miss anything?”

You quickly straightened up, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment that your brother had arrived. Minho, however, just smiled, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “We’ll continue this later.”

Your breath hitched at the closeness, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. As Minho pulled back with a wink, you felt the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

Jisung entered the living room, oblivious to the tension that had suddenly filled the air. “Hey, what are you two up to?”

“Just studying,” Minho replied casually, as if nothing had happened, though the smirk on his face told a different story.

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. “Yeah, just studying.”

But as you glanced at Minho, who was now chatting with your brother like everything was normal, you couldn’t help but wonder if things between you had just shifted in a way you hadn’t expected. And as much as you tried to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the fact that, for the first time, Minho’s teasing had made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite understand.

You were walking through the university courtyard, your thoughts scattered as you mentally planned your study schedule for the rest of the day. It had been a busy week, and you were looking forward to some peace and quiet when you suddenly spotted Minho across the way. He was chatting animatedly with a girl, her laughter ringing out as he carried a stack of books for her.

You instinctively slowed your pace, your eyes lingering on them for a moment longer than you intended. The girl was pretty, with a bright smile and an easygoing vibe that made her seem instantly likable. She playfully nudged Minho with her shoulder, and he grinned back at her, that familiar teasing spark in his eyes.

For a second, you considered changing your route, avoiding the interaction altogether. But then you stopped yourself. Why would you do that? It’s not like it mattered. It wasn’t like you cared who Minho was talking to, or how close they seemed. Right?

So you took a deep breath and kept walking, your expression carefully neutral as you approached them. As you got closer, Minho caught sight of you, and his grin widened.

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” he called out, his voice full of mock surprise. “You just couldn’t resist, could you? Saw my handsome face and had to come over.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Oh please, I just happened to be walking by. Don’t flatter yourself.”

The girl next to him laughed at your banter, and you noticed the way she lightly slapped his arm, a gesture that spoke of familiarity. It was clear they were close. Your eyes flickered to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of something—what was it? Jealousy? Annoyance? Whatever it was, you quickly pushed it down.

Minho noticed your glance and, as if reading your mind, raised an eyebrow. “Ah, sorry. Where are my manners? This is Seoyun, a friend from my class. Seoyun, this is my little genius here,” he added with a teasing smirk.

You gave her a polite nod, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at the word “friend.” “Nice to meet you, Seoyun.”

“Nice to meet you too!” she replied cheerfully. “Minho’s told me a lot about you. He says you’re quite the brainiac.”

You shot Minho a look, and he just grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to keep him in line,” you said, your tone light but with a hint of sarcasm.

Seoyun laughed again, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable they seemed together. It was… unsettling in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint. But you weren’t about to dwell on it.

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” you said, glancing at your watch. “Places to be, things to study.”

“Always so busy,” Minho said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “But you know, all work and no play…”

“…keeps you out of trouble,” you finished for him with a smirk. “But don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.”

Seoyun smiled at you again, giving a little wave. “It was nice meeting you. Hopefully, we’ll see each other around.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you replied, waving back before turning to continue on your way.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, just once, to see Minho and Seoyun laughing together as they continued their conversation. You tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that settled in your chest, brushing it off as nothing.

‘She must be his girlfriend,’ you thought to yourself, trying to sound nonchalant even in your own mind. And then you shrugged, forcing yourself to focus on your day ahead. ‘Why would I care?’

But even as you walked away, you couldn’t quite shake the image of them together, the way they seemed to fit so naturally. And for the first time, Minho’s teasing didn’t just annoy you—it made you feel something deeper, something you weren’t ready to face just yet.

“Hey.”

You looked up at the voice calling your name. It was Jeongin, your classmate.

“We got paired for the presentation,” he reminded you. Oh! You remembered now, probably too occupied with other subjects to focus on this. “If you don’t mind, can we start after class? That way we’ll finish early and can focus on other things.”

“Sure,” you agreed, appreciating his practical suggestion.

“Great. We should head to a coffee shop after this.”

After class, you walked together, discussing the presentation details. Jeongin had some good ideas, and you found yourself easily slipping into a productive conversation. The atmosphere between you two was relaxed, and soon you arrived at the coffee shop.

“What do you want?” Jeongin asked as you both approached the counter.

“Latte, please,” you replied, smiling. “Thanks.”

As Jeongin went to order, you scanned the room, your eyes landing on a familiar figure. Minho. He was with a group of friends, casually chatting. When he looked up, his gaze met yours. He smirked at you, and you were about to wave, but then he broke the eye contact and turned his attention back to the person next to him. You scanned the group quickly, noticing your brother wasn’t there.

You tried to focus on your work, but you kept catching Minho glancing at you from the corner of your eye. For the first time, you wondered what he thought of seeing you with another guy. The idea made you smirk a little, enjoying the small twist of the situation. Minho, always so sure of himself, might just be a little thrown off by this.

Jeongin returned with your latte and his own drink, setting them down on the table.

“Ready to get started?” he asked, pulling out his notes.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” you replied, pushing the thoughts of Minho to the back of your mind—for now, at least.

You were studying in the living room, the soft murmur of a video tutorial explaining organic chemistry filling the space. You were too focused to notice Minho entering your house until his voice broke through your concentration.

“Hey, my favorite person,” he greeted with a playful smile.

You glanced around, looking behind you and to the sides. “My brother’s not here,” you stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Of course you are the one I meant. My favorite person.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “If Soonie, Doongie, and Dori were people, they’d be your favorites.”

“Of course,” he agreed, his tone light.

You returned to your studies, but Minho didn’t leave. Instead, he plopped down on the couch, stretching out as if he had all the time in the world. You tried to ignore him, but it wasn’t long before he broke the silence again.

“So, who was that guy you were with at the café earlier?” His tone was casual, but you could feel the underlying curiosity.

You hesitated, not sure how to respond. You didn’t have to be honest, but something made you want to see how he would react. “He’s a suitor,” you said nonchalantly, not looking up from your notebook.

Minho’s expression shifted slightly, but he quickly masked it, leaning back with a smirk. “A suitor, huh? I should tell your brother. Maybe he’ll confiscate your phone so you can focus on studying.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a spark of irritation. “I’m not a kid, Minho. I can decide who I want to spend time with.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, really? You’re still just a freshman. You should focus on your studies instead of getting distracted by things like relationships.”

Your irritation grew. “What about you? You’re in a relationship with that girl you were walking with, but I can’t be in one?”

Minho’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before he quickly composed himself. He knew you were jealous, and he had to hide the smile threatening to break through. “So, you were jealous?” he teased, leaning forward.

You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks, and you stood up abruptly, gathering your things. “I’m not jealous,” you snapped, turning on your heel to head back to your room.

As you walked away, Minho couldn’t help but smile. He knew you were, even if you wouldn’t admit it, and that only made him like you more.

Life continues as usual, with your brother Jisung and Minho still finding every opportunity to tease you. Tomorrow is their graduation day, and as you walk into your brother's room to borrow a math book, you decide to ask him a question that's been on your mind.

"Jisung, what’s your plan after graduation?"

You’re genuinely curious, even if you’d never admit it to his face. Despite all the sibling rivalry, you’re proud of him for making it this far.

"Probably end up unemployed," he replies with a shrug.

You give him a deadpan look. What answer did you expect, anyway?

"Obviously, I’ll take the board exam first, then start job hunting," he says while folding his clothes. Then he glances at you, squinting. "You’re not asking because you’re curious about Minho, are you?"

Yeah…no!

You quickly throw a pillow at him, trying to hide your flustered expression. "Do you really think my world revolves around him?" Jisung catches the pillow and smirks, clearly not convinced.

"Even if you don't ask about Minho, I'll tell you anyway. Remember when I told you to spend more time with him? You should’ve listened, because after graduation, he’s going abroad. There’s a job offer waiting for him."

Oh…

You manage a nonchalant nod, but as you leave his room, the news weighs heavily on your mind.

That night, as you lie in bed, you can’t help but replay Jisung’s words over and over. Minho is leaving. The thought sends a strange ache through your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s not a big deal, that his absence won’t matter—but deep down, you know it will.

Graduation day arrives in a whirlwind of excitement. Your parents are there, beaming with pride, and you stand among the crowd, clutching a bouquet of flowers. You watch as your brother and his friends, including Minho, happily pose for group pictures, congratulating each other and hugging in celebration of finally finishing their studies. The joy is infectious, but there's a tinge of sadness in your heart.

Minho is leaving.

The thought lingers, even as you force yourself to focus on the present moment.

"Hey, little devil, take a picture of us," your brother calls out to you. You roll your eyes at the nickname but comply, grabbing the Polaroid camera hanging around your neck. It is his day, after all.

You snap the picture, capturing their bright smiles and laughter. The moment is perfect, but it tugs at your heartstrings.

Minho is leaving.

No matter how much you’ve pretended to hate him, the truth is, you’re going to miss him more than you’d like to admit.

"Are these my flowers?" your brother asks, reaching for the bouquet in your hands. You quickly hide it behind your back.

"They’re not yours! Mom has your flowers," you retort, giving him a playful glare.

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief, probably know what you are planning. "Okay, okay, I get it."

Just then, Minho approaches you, his usual teasing grin in place. "Can you take a picture of me? So you’ll have a souvenir picture of me," he said with a wink.

Pushing aside the urge to roll your eyes. Today, you’re happy for him, even if it’s bittersweet.

"Ha ha ha, I’m honored," you reply with mock sarcasm, but you can’t help laughing with him. You snap the picture, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

"We should take a picture together too," he says suddenly, taking the camera from your hands. He hands it to one of his classmates and stands beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder. You try to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, secretly pleased to have a picture with him. You’re going to miss him.

After the picture is taken, you slowly extend the bouquet toward him. "These are for you. Congratulations."

Minho’s eyes light up with surprise and genuine happiness as he takes the flowers. "It’s my first time receiving flowers. I’m blushing," he says with a laugh. Then, with a mischievous grin, he adds, "Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? Wait, I need to think about it."

He presses a finger to his temple, pretending to be deep in thought.

You slap his arm lightly, laughing. "It’s a farewell gift, you idiot."

"Wait, you should give me more time to think," he says, closing his eyes dramatically. After a few seconds, he opens them with a playful glint. "Yes. I will be your boyfriend."

You freeze, caught off guard. What?

"So from now on, you’re my girlfriend," he declares, and before you can react, he leans in and plants a quick kiss on your lips.

Your mind spins as his words sink in. "I promised myself I’d wait until you graduate, but I can’t help it—especially since I’m going far away, someone might take you from me." he says softly and laughs, messing with your hair. "So wait for me, okay? I promise I’ll come back to you."

It takes a moment, but you finally manage a small nod, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho smiles back, his eyes filled with warmth.

You realize then,

more than ever,

that you want him

just as much as he wants you.