Please Checkout This New Fic Of Mine!! 'how Can I Move On?' Minho X Jisung X Reader!! You'll Love It
please checkout this new fic of mine!! 'how can i move on?' minho x jisung x reader!! you'll love it i promisee
Kayewrite's Masterlist!
warning: full of fluff
ask me anything and suggestions here!

Series:
Blue Sticky Note (stray kids ot8 x reader) - fluff a mysterious note confession appears in your binder. Unsure of who left it, you embark on an investigation among your eight close friends, each with their own quirks and possibilities.
Blue Sticky Note part 2 (stray kids ot8 x reader) - fluff, angst you know the answer of the mystery of the blue sticky note you found in your binder, but then keep denying it.
Stack of books (bsn ending #1) - han x reader x skz
falling in the wrong way (bsn ending #2) - minho x reader x skz
I hate to admit (bsn ending #3) - changbin x reader x skz
You were beautiful (bsn ending #4) - seungmin x reader x skz
this is going to hurt (bsn ending #5) - hyunjin x reader x skz
swear it again (bsn ending #6) - chan x reader x skz
knock on your door (bsn ending #7) - felix x reader x skz
... maybe that's why (bsn ending #8) - jeongin x reader x skz
Time and again (chan x reader x hyunjin) - fluff You thought acting was just another gig, until a simple favor spiraled into something more complicated. As you step into a world of wealth and deception, you meet Chan and Hyunjin—two men whose lives you’ve unintentionally entangled with your own.
One shot:
Like I do ( skz jeongin x reader) -fluff you tried to stop you feelings for your best friend especially he has a girl.
How to love? (skz seungmin x reader) - fluff, angst You are just curious what love is, and you asked for tips from your friend, who just willingly helped you.
Want so bad (skz Lee know x reader) - fluff Minho is everything you never wanted in life. But he wants you….so bad.
Maybe This time ( skz jisung x reader) - fluff, angst Two old friends reunite and reminisce about their shared past.
Unseen Barriers (skz felix x reader) - fluff You have feelings for Felix. But Felix, despite being aware, remains determined not to reciprocate for a reason.
note: this will update timely note2: also please bear with me im an uni student and dont have always time to update but ill do it as i can (and yes no nsfw in this blog)
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More Posts from Kayewrite
Falling in a wrong way
(blue sticky note ending #2)
skz lee minho x reader x ot8!! lee know x reader!!! word count: 3k
Blue note alternative ending 2 wherein; you choose minho and it felt wrong
an: i dont know if im still doing it right! i dont wanna hurt other memebers . chz TT an2: im having class starting tom and idk if i can update everyday. but ill do what i can


part 1 and part 2 first
As you walked out of that party, tears blurred your vision. The taxi ride home felt like an eternity, each second filled with the weight of the choice you knew you had to make. Choosing to follow your heart felt like a betrayal—either to yourself or to the friendships you held dear. The tears flowed freely, a silent acknowledgment of the impossible situation you found yourself in.
When the taxi finally pulled up to your apartment building, you stumbled out, barely holding yourself together. You made your way to the elevator, desperate to escape into the solitude of your room. But just as you were about to step inside, a voice called your name, stopping you in your tracks.
You turned around slowly, your heart pounding. There, standing a few feet away, was Minho, his motorcycle helmet in hand. His breaths were labored, as if he had sprinted to catch up to you. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with worry, regret, and something else—something deeper that made your heart ache even more.
Seeing him there, so close yet so far, brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You couldn't hold them back as he took a hesitant step toward you. The concern etched on his face, the way he looked at you like he was seeing through all your pain, made you crumble.
Without another word, Minho closed the distance between you. He grabbed your wrist gently and pulled you into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around you as if he could shield you from all the hurt in the world. "I'm sorry," he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.
You clung to him, your face buried in his shoulder, your tears soaking into his shirt. "I'm sorry too," you choked out, the words barely audible. "Sorry because I loved you." The confession hung in the air between you, raw and unfiltered.
Minho pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours. "Why are you sorry for that?" he asked, his voice trembling.
"Because… because I'm afraid," you admitted, your voice breaking. The pain of those words was almost unbearable, and you could see it reflected in his eyes.
For a moment, Minho said nothing. He just stared at you, his expression a mix of sorrow and determination. Then, without warning, he took your hand in his, his grip firm but reassuring. "Then let's run away," he said, his voice steady now.
Before you could respond, he was already pulling you towards his motorcycle. He put a helmet to you, still reeling from everything that had happened. You didn't protest, didn't question where you were going or what you were doing. You just followed his lead, trusting him implicitly.
As you climbed onto the back of his bike and wrapped your arms around his waist, the world around you seemed to fade away. The roar of the engine filled the silence between you, and you pressed your face against his back, feeling the warmth of his body through the leather jacket. The wind whipped past you as Minho drove, and for the first time that night, you felt a sense of peace.
You didn't know where he was taking you, and it didn't matter. As long as you were with him, you felt safe. You let go of everything—the party, the confusion, the fear—and allowed yourself to simply be in the moment, with Minho.
You loved Minho. From the playful banter that always made you smile, to the way he showed his care in subtle, thoughtful ways. You appreciated everything about him, even the teasing that others might have mistaken for indifference. It was in those moments that you saw the depth of his feelings. The teasing was just his way of showing love, and you understood that. He loved you in his own way, just as you loved him. But the friendship you both valued so much had always held you back.
Tonight, though, all those barriers seemed to dissolve. It was just the two of you, riding through the night with the moonlight as your only witness. You held onto him tightly, savoring the feeling of his presence, knowing that this moment was yours and his alone. For once, you let yourself not care about anything else—just you and Minho, under the stars, running away from the world together.
Minho brings you somewhere—a place only the two of you know. It's a small, cozy house nestled right in front of the beach, a secret hideaway that has always been your sanctuary. The moment you step inside, you’re overwhelmed by the familiarity of it all. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the faint scent of the ocean air.
Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. You hold him as if letting go would mean losing everything. He hugs you back just as fiercely, his hand gently caressing your hair. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers into your ear, his voice soft and reassuring.
He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “We’re here now,” he says, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “Together.” You nod, feeling a warmth spread through your chest, the fear and doubt momentarily forgotten.
Minho then leads you to the couch, where you both sink into its plush cushions. For a moment, the world outside disappears, and it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to seal a promise. You close your eyes, savoring the feeling of his love, pure and unspoken, but deeply understood.
-
The next morning, you wake up to the soft light filtering through the curtains. You stretch lazily, realizing that you're wearing one of Minho’s oversized shirts, the fabric smelling faintly of him. It’s a comforting scent, one that makes you smile as you sit up and take in the surroundings.
The sound of clattering pots and pans draws your attention, and you find Minho in the kitchen, cooking something with his usual focused expression. The sight makes your heart swell with affection. Unable to resist, you quietly tiptoe over to him and wrap your arms around his waist from behind.
He glances back at you with a smile, his eyes warm and tender. “Good morning,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Sit down, I’m almost done.”
You do as he says, settling at the small table. Just as you’re about to get comfortable, a familiar white cat leaps onto your lap, purring contentedly. It’s the cat you both adopted from the animal shelter—a sweet, fluffy companion he named after yourself. You smile, petting the cat, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.
A moment later, Minho places a dish in front of you, and the aroma makes your mouth water. He’s always been an excellent cook, and today is no exception. He hands you a glass of milk, the small, thoughtful gesture making you grin.
You take a bite, the flavors rich and comforting, and you can’t help but smile up at him. He’s watching you intently, waiting for your reaction. “It’s delicious,” you say, your words filled with genuine appreciation.
Minho chuckles, clearly pleased. You scoop up another spoonful of food and, on a whim, offer it to him. He raises an eyebrow but leans in to take the bite, and you both end up laughing at the simple, playful gesture. The laughter fills the room, light and carefree, making the moment feel almost surreal. For the first time, you allow yourself to be completely true to your feelings, to enjoy this fleeting happiness without worrying about the future.
Later, you both find yourselves outside, lounging in a big hammock that sways gently in the breeze. The ocean stretches out before you, a vast expanse of blue that seems to go on forever. You’re sitting between Minho’s legs, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours, the sound of the waves, the scent of the salty air—it all feels so right.
Minho tightens his hold on you, his chin resting on your shoulder and he whispered ,“I’m willing to risk everything for you,” he says quietly, the sincerity in his voice making your heart ache.
You shake your head, turning slightly to look at him. Eyes started to well up.
“Minho ---That’s not what I want,” you called him. "It’s okay if I’ll step away, as long as you stay the same. You’ve been with them for so long—you’re like family. I don’t want to be the reason to end it.”
Minho’s eyes darken with determination. “Whatever happens, I’ll choose you,” he says firmly.
His words are like a knife to your heart, and you can’t stop the tears from welling up. “But you’ve spent eight years with them,” you say, your voice cracking. “You have dreams together, and I’m just going to break it?”
You feel like you’ve fallen in love in the wrong way, at the wrong time. The guilt and fear threaten to overwhelm you, and the tears spill over, streaming down your cheeks. Minho gently wipes them away, his touch soothing.
“Everything will be okay,” he whispers, his voice full of conviction. “I’ll take care of it, I promise.”
You want to believe him, to trust in the strength of your love. So you close your eyes, leaning into him, and for now, you let yourself be comforted by his presence, holding onto the hope that somehow, everything will be okay.
-
The weekend with Minho flies by too quickly. You wish you could stop time, hold on to these moments a little longer, but you know that’s not possible.
With a heavy heart, you make your way to Chan’s studio. He’s always been the one you could talk to about anything, a steady presence who feels like a big brother because of how mature and understanding he is. As you approach the door, you manage a small smile and gently knock.
“Can I come in?” you ask, your voice soft.
Chan looks up from his work, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Of course,” he says, nodding towards the chair beside him. You hand him a cup of his favorite coffee as you sit down, and he takes it gratefully. “Thanks,” he murmurs, taking a sip.
He studies you for a moment, concern flickering in his eyes. “How are you?” he asks, his tone gentle.
You take a deep breath, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Chan’s expression softens even more. “It’s okay,” he says reassuringly. “Everything will fall back into place, eventually.”
His words are meant to comfort, but the uncertainty in your heart remains, and Chan knows it.
Chan always know you. He knows what words you need.
“As your friend, and as someone who cares about you a lot, seeing you happy, following your dreams and wants, that’s what would make me happiest too.” The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. "So choose what's your heart saying." He’s always been honest with you, but this feels different—more personal.
He tries to lighten the mood with a joke, his smile returning. “Besides, feelings fade eventually. Who knows? Maybe feelings will just disappear in a day.”
You chuckle softly at his attempt to make you laugh, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple. You know it all too well. After the laughter fades, you look at him, your expression turning serious.
“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, the weight of your decision pressing down on you.
Chan’s smiles, understanding shining in his eyes. “You don't need to be sorry of the things that wasn't your fault,” he replies softly. “And no matter what happens just know that I’m here for you, no matter what.”
The room falls into a comfortable silence, the unspoken words hanging in the air. Chan’s presence, steady and reliable, gives you comfort. You smiled at him and he smiled then ruffled your hair.
-
You helped Felix move out of his old apartment, a task made necessary by the noisy neighbor who had been causing him endless frustration.
You were relieved that Felix never brought up the awkwardness between you two, which meant you could focus on the task at hand without dwelling on the unspoken tension.
As you both worked, Felix’s usual teasing and jokes brought some normalcy back into the day. You laughed at his comments, the sound of your laughter mingling with the clatter of packing boxes.
Suddenly, a knock at the door broke the rhythm of your work. You both paused, and Felix’s neighbor appeared, his face a mix of annoyance and frustration.
“Hey, can you keep it down?” the neighbor said sharply. “You’re disturbing other people.”
The words struck a nerve. You could feel your anger rising, and before you could think twice, you shot back, “Look at what you’ve done to my friend! He’s moving out because of you. Maybe you should be more considerate yourself!”
Felix’s hand landed gently on your shoulder, a subtle reminder to keep calm. He stepped in front of you, his tone even but firm. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll handle this. Thanks for letting us know.”
The neighbor’s expression shifted to one of guilt. He muttered a half-hearted apology and quickly retreated. As soon as he was out of sight, Felix couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Well, that was interesting,” he said, still chuckling. “I talked to him about this before, but I can’t believe he’d actually come here to complain.”
You joined in the laughter, the tension of the moment easing away. “I’m just glad he’s gone,” you said. “Moving day is stressful enough without dealing with that.”
You continue your work and when the packing was done, you were ready to bring it downstairs to the unit beside you. When he stopped you with his words,
“I’ll be moving a bit farther away." he flashed a soft sad smile, "Hyunjin’s roommate moved out, so I’m going to crash at his place.”
Your heart sank a little and got surprised at the news that was different from what you had expected. But before you could express your disappointment, Felix patted your head affectionately. “Don’t worry, it’s not because of you,” he said reassuringly. “It’s just a better fit for now. Everything’s going to be fine.”
You weren’t entirely convinced, but Felix’s warm smile and reassuring words helped to ease your worries.
Felix’s grin widened. “Everything’s fine,” he repeated, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “Thanks for helping me today. It means a lot.”
You smiled back, feeling a mix of relief and lingering sadness. As you watched him finish packing up the last of his things, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of finality, but also an appreciation for the way Felix had managed to make the best of a difficult situation.
-
The sun was setting, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over everything. You were sitting alone, and the serene moment was interrupted by a familiar voice calling your name.
You turned to see Minho standing a few feet away, a playful glint in his eyes. He walked over and sat down beside you, his arm slipping around your shoulders, then patted the cat that was purring and resting comfortably in your lap.
Minho's eyes twinkled, and then he laughed, "I was actually calling our cat."
You rolled your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at your lips. "Why did you name it after me?" you asked, feigning exasperation.
Minho chuckled, his laughter warm and infectious. He pulled you closer, his touch reassuring and tender.
You leaned into him, enjoying the comfort of his presence. The cat, sensing the affection, rubbed against your legs, purring contentedly. You looked at Minho, seeing the joy in his eyes, and then shifted your gaze back to the horizon.
The sky was now a canvas of vibrant colors, the sun dipping lower and lower until it was just a sliver above the water. The scene was breathtakingly beautiful, and it felt like the perfect backdrop to your moment together. You both fell into a comfortable silence, simply savoring the tranquility of the evening.
Minho's fingers lightly traced patterns on your arm, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The earlier worries and complications seemed distant now, replaced by the simplicity of this shared moment.
You turned your head slightly to look up at Minho, who was gazing at the sunset with a soft smile. There was a sense of peace in his expression, and you felt a similar calm settle within you. The world seemed to slow down as you both took in the beauty around you.
The sun continued its descent, casting long shadows and bathing the beach in a golden glow. It was a perfect ending to a challenging day, a reminder that amidst the chaos and confusion, there were moments of pure, simple happiness to be cherished.
You took a deep breath, feeling grateful for this serene moment with Minho, and the two of you shared a contented smile, knowing that no matter what lay ahead, this was a moment you would always remember.
----
an: might continue the next one if this will get 80 likes TT
I dont know if im still doing it right but it kinda hurt me making alternative endings🤧. Maybe ill write a chapter where she chooses no one or she choose all??? Is that possible
Blue Sticky Note
straykids fic wherein a mysterious note confession appears in your binder. Unsure of who left it, you embark on an investigation among your eight close friends, each with their own quirks and possibilities.
genre: Fluff. and fluff
ot8 x reader! stray kids x reader!! word count: 3.3k
AN: i want to make a fic with multiple members in it but i might make more of it after i finished all individual members. btw can you teach me how tumblr works? i might pin a masterlist soon hehe


You just got back to your apartment after a long day of classes. Exhausted from wrestling with numbers and equations, you flopped down on your bed and closed your eyes.
But your moment of peace was interrupted by the sudden ringing of your phone.
“Hey,” your friend Seungmin’s voice greeted you through the speaker.
Used to how he always greeted you, you sighed and listened as he continued, your tiredness making it hard to focus.
“You didn’t turn in your literature assignment. I’m on my way to your building,” he said, causing you to bolt upright in surprise.
You had forgotten to give it to him during class earlier. Glad he reminded you. And you were glad to be friends with him because he was the class representative. You enjoyed a lot of benefits from being his friend.
“Okay, thanks for the reminder. No need to come up—I’ll meet you downstairs,” you replied before ending the call.
Grateful for Seungmin’s help, you quickly gathered your things and checked your binder for the assignment. You sighed in relief when you found it. “I thought I lost you.”
As you were about to close your binder, a flash of blue caught your eye. A blue sticky note on the front page—one that you definitely didn’t own.
You pulled it out and read the message, which made your heart skip a beat: “I like you. But i you only see me as a friend.”
It wasn’t the first time you’d received a confession, but this note felt different. There was a mystery to it that intrigued you.
Confusion swirled in your mind as you tried to piece together who might have left this note. The message was neatly written in capital letters, offering no clues about the writer's identity.
Who could it be?
You had a lot of friends, but who might have done this?
You had male friends, all of whom felt like brothers to you. Could it be one of them? But they were like family.
The note was a sweet but outdated way to confess—charming in its own way but not something you’d expect from anyone in particular. You read it again and again, hoping to find a hint about who it might be from. But aside from the neat handwriting on a blue sticky note, you found nothing.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. You immediately sprang out of bed, remembering Seungmin.
“I’m sorry,” you said, peeking through the door.
“It’s okay,” he smiled reassuringly. “I know you were tired, so I decided to come up.”
“Oh, thanks,” you replied, quickly picking up some clothes that were strewn on the floor. You grabbed your assignment and saw the sticky note again, hastily hiding it by placing a book on top.
As you handed over your paper, you decided to test the waters, curious about who the note could be from. “Do you own any sticky notes?” you asked casually.
Seungmin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”
“I was taking notes and thought I might need some,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“You have plenty already,” he said, gesturing to the stack of colorful sticky notes on your study table. “And no, I don’t have any. I keep running out of them. I should buy more.”
He glanced at his watch and then looked back at you, his eyes full of concern. “I should go now. You should continue resting, and don’t forget to eat.”
“Thank you so much, Mr. President,” you said, a playful tone in your voice.
“No problem. Take care and always lock your doors. Bye, see you tomorrow.”
Before he left, Seungmin ruffled your hair affectionately.
As the door closed behind him, you found yourself staring at the sticky note again, your mind racing. If it was Seungmin who left the note, did he feel that way about you? His caring nature and playful attitude seemed to match the tone of the note, but could he really be the one?
Then again, what if it wasn’t him? You couldn’t jump to conclusions based solely on a sticky note.
You took a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts aside. Until you had more evidence, you couldn’t be certain. You needed to consider all possibilities before drawing any conclusions.
Sticky notes and neat penmanship alone weren’t enough to figure out who left the note. Everyone in your class had decent handwriting, and blue sticky notes were too common to offer any real clue. They were practically identical—anyone could have bought them. It wasn't unique, not even close.
So who could it be?
"What are you thinking about?"
You were lost in thought when a voice pulled you back to reality. You looked up to see who it was.
"Uh, nothing," you replied, somewhat startled.
It was Changbin.
He was a friend of yours, though vastly different from Seungmin. If Seungmin was a green flag, then Changbin was the complete opposite—a walking red flag who had a reputation for playing with people’s hearts.
"Let me copy your physics assignment," he demanded more than asked, flashing you a grin that was both charming and mischievous.
Changbin had that bad-boy aura, and you sometimes wondered how you two even became friends. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t be the one who left that sticky note in your binder. When Changbin liked someone, he didn’t shy away from telling them directly. He would flirt openly, not leave anonymous notes.
So no, it wasn’t him.
"Why should I?" you replied nonchalantly. You were used to his antics, which might be one of the reasons why you were friends.
"Because I’m cute, and after class, I’ll buy you your favorite toothpaste-flavored ice cream," he teased.
"It’s not toothpaste! It’s mint chocolate!" you corrected, rolling your eyes.
"My bad," he smirked, unfazed. "Now, let me copy."
Too tired to argue further, you handed him your assignment. Changbin eagerly started copying, his focus entirely on the task at hand.
As you watched him scribble down your answers, you noticed his messy handwriting. There was no way it could have been him—the note’s handwriting was neat and careful, the opposite of his chaotic scrawl.
"You really have terrible handwriting. What are you, a kid? It looks like a storm blew through it," you teased, watching him.
"If I had more time, I could make it look like it was printed with a font," he shot back, not looking up. "But since the prof will be here in a few minutes, I don’t care what you say. Now, shush."
You let him finish copying, trying not to overthink the situation again, when suddenly he pulled out a blue sticky note from his bag.
"I almost forgot to give this to you," he said, handing it to you slowly. "It’s the address for the party this weekend. You should come. If I don’t see even a glimpse of you, I won’t enjoy it."
Surprised, you stared at the sticky note in his hand. It was the same color and size as the one you found in your binder. Why would he have this?
Seeing that you weren’t taking it, he grinned mischievously and stuck it to your forehead, laughing at your shocked expression.
Could it be him?
But…
You glanced at the two sticky notes in your hand, comparing them as you strolled through the expansive university yard.
Confessing like this wasn’t his style.
So it couldn’t be, right?
But the sticky notes were identical—the same length, the same height. Plain as they were, they were unmistakably the same.
Yet, you remembered how he would laugh if he knew someone confessed like this. He’d call it plain, boring, and probably mock the person as weak.
You shook off the thought, placing the sticky notes back in your binder and hugging it to your chest, forcing your mind to focus on your lessons.
"Hey, monkey!" You halted mid-step, rolling your eyes at the familiar voice and nickname.
"What?" you snapped, turning to face him.
"So you really accept now that you’re a monkey?" he teased, laughing. It was Minho.
Your friend (well, sort of?). In your group, you were like a cat and dog—he was the cat, and according to him, you were the dog because your face reminded him of one.
Despite the constant teasing, you appreciated how he looked out for you and was always there when you needed him.
But what did he just say?
"I'm not in the mood to fight with you," you muttered. On a normal day, you would have started bickering with him, refusing to back down until he surrendered (yes, like kids). "What are you, a chicken?"
"Oh, you noticed my hair. Do you like it?" he winked.
"You look like a rooster." His hair was dyed orange, and although he didn’t look like a rooster, you wanted to get back at him.
"That's better than being a monkey," he grinned.
"Crazy."
The two of you walked together, talking about random things with the usual bickering sprinkled in. Then, you remembered the sticky note. You knew it wasn’t from him because, well, why would it be?
Still, you decided to show it to him.
"Who do you think did this?" you asked, handing him the note.
He read it aloud, the words dripping with sarcasm, "That’s the cringiest thing I’ve ever read in my whole life."
Just as you expected.
"You shouldn’t say that! He must’ve gathered a lot of courage to do this."
"Why wouldn’t he just tell you in person? Is he weak?" Minho scoffed, lowering his voice when he saw you weren’t amused.
"Maybe he didn’t want to ruin our friendship."
"Then he shouldn’t have liked you in the first place."
"Can we control our feelings? It’s hard, you know!" You rolled your eyes. "Why am I even telling you this? You don’t understand anything," you mumbled, though loud enough for him to hear. "Anyway, I should go. I have something to do at the library."
"I like you."
You froze in your tracks at his words.
"That’s what he should do! It’s really easy, you know," he said, smirking before suddenly sprinting off in the opposite direction.
What was that?
Confused by Minho's words, you made your way to the library, replaying the conversation in your mind.
"What was that? Does he like me, or was he just using it as an example?"
You tried to shrug off the thought as you arrived at the library. The familiar scent of books enveloped you, a comforting distraction.
At the librarian's desk, you spotted Han, your friend who worked there as a student assistant.
"Oh, what brings you here?" he greeted you with a smile, lowering his voice in contrast to Minho’s usual volume.
"Hello. I’m returning this book." You handed him the physics book you had been hugging to your chest.
"Already? Are you sure you’re done with it? It’s okay if you missed the deadline. You know I can always talk to the senior librarian for you," Han offered, his tone warm and reassuring.
If you were to consider another suspect in your mystery investigation, Han would be a possibility. You’d never questioned how he took care of you before, but now, as you tried to solve this puzzle, you began to wonder.
Could he like you?
Or were you just overthinking things?
No, you shouldn’t read too much into Han’s actions. Like Seungmin, he was someone who genuinely cared for the people he loved.
"No, it’s okay. I’m done with it. Thank you, Han. And thanks for the offer—I might take you up on that one day and maybe never return the book," you joked, earning a laugh from him.
"Now I should go. I need to meet Hyunjin—he asked me for a favor."
"Sure! Take care!"
"Thanks. You too."
As you left the library, you felt a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. Turning around, you saw Han, slightly out of breath.
"Hey, was this yours? You forgot it," he said, handing you the sticky note.
You didn’t know how it ended up with him, but you quickly took it and placed it in your binder.
"Oh, thanks."
"No worries. That was a cute confession," he said, still catching his breath, then laughed. "I should get back—lots of work to do."
You nodded, watching as he returned to the library.
A question formed in your mind: Was it Han?
Why didn’t he ask who wrote it?
Why wasn’t he curious?
But then, he did ask if it was yours, as if he didn’t know.
So maybe… it wasn’t him.
"You literally owe me for this one," you whined, though you knew you didn’t have much of a choice as you glanced at your friend Hyunjin, a med student with an ever-present smile.
"Yes, I promise I'll buy you whatever you want," he said, clasping his hands together in gratitude, his eyes gleaming with a sincerity that made it hard to stay annoyed. You sighed, relenting, and extended your arm.
He needed a blood sample for one of his "you-don’t-know-the-details" assignments, and apparently, you were exactly what he needed.
Like a seasoned pro, he pricked the needle into your skin and attached a small hose to collect your blood. It wasn’t the first time you’d been his willing guinea pig, but you couldn’t say no to Hyunjin.
"Thank you," he said earnestly after he was done.
"Right. You should be thankful," you retorted with a mock glare, though you couldn’t help but smile when he laughed.
Hyunjin had the most stereotypical 'doctor-y' penmanship you’d ever seen—impossible to decipher, even as you watched him scribble something in his records.
"By the way, I left a note before in your binder," he said casually.
His words rang in your ears. "What note?"
He smirked, clearly enjoying the suspense. "A note about how you should remember to take the vitamins I gave you."
Oh.
Seeing you internalize his words, he added, "And I noticed another note in there." He adjusted his white coat, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "And I know who put it there."
You looked up at him, curiosity written all over your face as he towered over you.
"And you should find that out on your own," he teased, winking before walking away, leaving you with more questions than answers.
"Why’d you call me here?" Jeongin asked as he walked into the coffee shop, a guitar slung over his back.
"Because I promised to buy you coffee," you replied with a smile.
Jeongin was a year younger than you, a music major who could play practically any instrument, though piano was his favorite.
"Really? But I’m not craving coffee right now. You should buy me a meal. I’m hungry," he said, not even trying to be cute but somehow managing to be utterly adorable.
As per his request, the two of you headed to a nearby restaurant. You let him order whatever he wanted and watched as he dug into his food.
"You must’ve been really hungry," you remarked.
"I didn’t have lunch or dinner yet," he admitted between bites.
"You shouldn’t skip meals like that! Our bodies are our main investment. We need to take care of them," you scolded, playing the role of the older sibling.
"I know, Mom," he teased.
"Good son," you laughed.
"Are you going to Changbin’s party?" he asked after stuffing more food into his mouth. You took a sip of your strawberry latte, considering your answer.
"I don’t know. I’m kinda busy."
He got back to eating, and you hesitated, feeling a question bubbling up inside you. It felt awkward, but you knew you wouldn’t be at peace until you asked.
"Uh, do you mind if I ask you a question?"
"You're already doing it," he said, his mouth still half-full.
"Let me finish!," you squinted at him. "This question is kinda weird, but…"
"Faster! I’m curious!" He leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Uh, do you know if anyone who’s close to us… erm…" You coughed, trying to find the right words. "…likes me? I mean, like, likes me?"
Jeongin looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "I don’t know who, but I know everyone loves you."
Well, that much was true—friendship came naturally with your group.
"And me too. I love you," he added casually.
"Aw, thank you. I love you too."
He didn’t reply, just smiled at you for a moment before turning back to his meal, leaving you with a warm feeling that was hard to shake.
"I'm so tired of that neighbor of mine!" Felix, a friend who lived three floors above you, burst into your apartment wearing pajamas and hugging his pillow.
"You can’t sleep again?" you asked, watching as he plopped down onto your sofa bed with a dramatic sigh.
"I don’t know what the hell he’s doing in the middle of the night! Was he doing construction or something?" he whined, making himself comfortable. "Oh, this is so comfortable. Let me crash here."
It wasn’t the first time he’d crashed at your place, so you were used to it. You didn’t mind at all.
"Did I bother you?" he asked, his head still buried in the pillow.
"Never."
"I should really move to this floor. It’s so peaceful."
"You could always move into my apartment and be my roommate," you suggested, a plan you’d considered before.
"No way. Someone might get angry."
"Who would that be?"
Felix didn’t answer, his silence leaving the question hanging in the air. You thought he might be teasing, but his continued silence suggested otherwise.
"And I don’t think I could handle living with you," he added.
"Why’s that?"
Once again, he didn’t respond.
"You should get some sleep. It’s past midnight," you said, heading toward your room.
As you were about to close the door, Felix called out, "I know about the blue sticky note in your binder."
You stopped in your tracks.
"Keep it, okay?" he said with a knowing smile before burying himself back into the pillow.
You wanted to ask more, but Felix seemed to be done with the conversation. With a curious mind, you went to bed, pondering over his cryptic words.
“Chan, did you really make this?” you asked, your voice brimming with excitement as you listened intently.
He nodded, a broad grin spreading across his face as he observed your reaction.
“This is the best music I’ve ever heard!” you exclaimed, pressing the earphones deeper into your ears.
“Oh, of course you’d say that because I’m your friend,” Chan said with a chuckle.
“No, I’m serious!” you replied, though you could only read his lips. The music’s high volume made it difficult to hear clearly. “This is amazing!”
“Yeah, that’s Han in the background and Changbin rapping.”
You bobbed your head along with the beats, completely immersed in the music Chan had created.
“Was Jeongin in it?” you asked, recognizing a familiar voice.
“Yes, and Hyunjin, Felix, Minho, and Seungmi—”
“This part is definitely Seungmin!” you shouted, and Chan laughed at your enthusiasm.
You continued listening, enjoying every note until the very last one, which was a soft piano melody.
“Wow, that was beautiful! I still can’t believe my friend created this. It’s a masterpiece.”
“Oh, thanks. That’s a great compliment from the person the song was inspired by,” Chan said with a knowing smile.
You didn’t catch that last part, too absorbed in the music to fully register his words.
“What’s the title of the song?” you asked, still in awe.
“Blue Sticky Note.”
The title made you stop dead in your tracks. Chan’s gaze lingered on you with an unreadable expression, as if he knew something you didn’t.
The realization hit you—the lyrics, the melody, everything about the song—
We’ve been friends for so long, shared laughter and tears, But there’s something more inside, I’ve held back for years. So I turned our feelings into a song, hoping you’d see, How much you mean to me, how much you mean to me.
Oh, blue sticky note, you’re my secret, my confession, Wrapped in notes and beats, my heart’s true expression. In every verse, in every line, it’s you I adore, From a simple blue sticky note to a melody I’m pouring out.
it was all connected to the note you had hidden in your binder.
part 2 here!
How can i move on?
minho x reader x jisung!! han jisung x fem.reader x minho!! fluff and angst! word count: 3.5k
summary: How do you move on from your ex who hurt you? Jisung knows, but it seems you have another way.
an: this just enters my imaginary senses that i have to write it. enjoy btw. this is oneshot guys


“How are you?
Are you getting what you deserve?
You deserve love…
Love that will break you
Like how you broke mine!
You piece of—"
Your hands shook as you stared at the angry words on the screen of your computer, your heart pounding in your chest. The unfinished message to your ex-boyfriend, Minho, burned into your eyes. It felt good to type it, to imagine how he would react if he read it. But deep down, you knew you wouldn’t send it. You couldn’t.
Because even after all that he did… you still loved him.
“Ugh! You’re such an idiot!” you groaned, slamming your head down on your desk. How could you still have feelings for him, after everything he put you through?
But you had to get over it. You were determined to move on.
That is… until you found out Minho was now working in the same office as you.
Of all the places, why here? Why in your carefully built world, the one you’d managed to keep free from the wreckage of your relationship?
You clenched your fists, staring across the room as Minho moved effortlessly through the office, chatting with a couple of coworkers. His smile—that damn smile—was still the same, as if nothing had changed. As if your heart hadn’t shattered.
How could he look so unaffected? Did he not feel anything?
You quickly averted your gaze when his eyes met yours, the familiar smirk spreading across his face. It made your blood boil. You hated him, hated the way he made you feel so small and foolish. And the worst part? You hated how much you still cared.
You were done. Done with his games, his charm, his casual disregard for the pain he caused.
Done.
“Ready to leave already?” a voice interrupted your spiraling thoughts. You blinked and turned, realizing your coworker Jisung was standing beside your desk, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
You hadn’t even noticed that you had started packing your things.
“No,” you lied, dropping your bag and sitting back down. “Just… organizing.”
“Uh-huh,” Jisung said, his tone playful but knowing. He had been working next to you for a year, long enough to recognize when you were hiding something. “So, what’s the deal with you and the new guy?”
You stiffened, your eyes instinctively darting back to Minho, who was now stirring his coffee at the pantry. His eyes flickered toward you again, and that damn smirk appeared, as if he could sense the tension building inside you.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you muttered, returning your attention to your computer screen.
“Sure.” Jisung laughed softly, but it wasn’t a mocking laugh. He could see right through you. “You always glare at people like that, right?”
Your cheeks heated as you turned to face him. “What do you mean by that?”
Jisung chuckled again, but his tone softened. “I’m just saying… If looks could kill, Minho would be in the hospital by now.”
Your lips twitched, but you fought back the smile. Jisung had always known how to defuse your temper, but you didn’t want to admit that he was right.
“You’re imagining things,” you muttered.
“Mhm,” he said, clearly unconvinced but too kind to press further. “Well, whatever it is… you should probably be careful. The last thing you need is for him to know he’s getting to you.”
You glanced at Jisung, surprised at his perceptiveness. He was right, of course. But it was easier said than done.
Minho had been your boyfriend for three years. Three long years where you thought you’d spend the rest of your life together. You had plans. You’d graduate, find your dream jobs, buy a place together, maybe get married one day… have kids, one girl who looks like you and one boy who looks also like you because that's what he wanted. It was everything you wanted and promised.
And then… he broke your heart. One stupid mistake, and everything you’d built came crumbling down. You couldn’t forgive him. Not after the betrayal.
Yet, here you were, still trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside you as you watched him now—calm, collected, and completely unfazed.
As if on cue, Minho approached your desk, holding a piece of paper. You felt a jolt of something deep inside—anger, hurt, and maybe a twinge of something more—something you hated yourself for feeling.
“Ms. Kim wanted you to do this,” Minho said casually, placing the paper on your desk. His voice was smooth, professional, but there was something in the way he looked at you. Like he was testing the waters, seeing how much he could push you.
You didn’t bother looking at him, simply nodding as you picked up the paper. “Okay.”
You kept your eyes on your computer, focusing on the task in front of you. But you could feel him still standing there, lingering. Waiting for… what? A reaction? An acknowledgment?
You refused to give him that satisfaction.
“Have you eaten yet?” he asked suddenly, his voice softer now.
Your stomach twisted. He had asked you that so many times before, back when things were… different. When he cared.
Or when you thought he cared.
You didn’t answer, hoping he’d just walk away. But he stayed, his presence hovering over you like a storm cloud.
“Hey, you should eat this,” Jisung’s voice broke through the tension like a ray of sunshine. He appeared out of nowhere, placing a lunch box in front of you with a proud smile. “I know you haven’t eaten yet.”
“Thanks,” you said, forcing a smile. Relief washed over you as you took the box from him, grateful for the distraction.
Jisung turned to Minho, his smile widening. “Oh, hey! I didn’t realize you were here.” He extended his hand toward him. “I’m Jisung, by the way.”
Minho hesitated for a split second before shaking his hand. His expression was unreadable as he nodded but offered no introduction in return.
Jisung didn’t seem to mind. He flashed Minho a friendly smile before turning his attention back to you. “Enjoy your lunch.”
Minho stood there for another moment, his eyes flicking between you and Jisung before he finally turned and walked away.
The second he was gone, you let out a long breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
Jisung shook his head and sat down next to you. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing,” you muttered, still feeling the weight of Minho’s presence lingering in the air. “He just asked if I’d eaten.”
Jisung raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t answer?”
“Of course not,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Good.” Jisung patted your head affectionately. “You need to stay strong. Don’t let him get to you. If you ever need help moving on, you know I’ve got your back.”
You stared at Jisung for a moment, his offer unexpectedly lifting your spirits. “How?”
Jisung smirked, leaning in closer. “Oh, I’ve got my ways.”
-
It was another day for lunch break, and you were sitting in the cafeteria with Jisung, absentmindedly picking at your food. Your mind was elsewhere, swirling with thoughts of Minho. Ever since the news that he’d be attending tonight's team celebration, you hadn’t been able to focus.
“You look like you’re about to throw up,” Jisung commented, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth as he watched your expression closely. “You sure you’re okay?”
You sighed heavily, dropping your fork onto your plate. “It’s just… Minho,” you admitted, voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t know if I can handle seeing him tonight.”
Jisung’s brow furrowed, his chopsticks pausing mid-air. “You knew he’d be there. This isn’t new information."
“I know, I know,” you said quickly, “but every time I think about facing him, I just—” Your voice cracked, betraying your emotions. You hated how easily the mere thought of Minho affected you.
Jisung rolled his eyes, putting his chopsticks down with a soft clink. “Listen to me,” he said, leaning forward, his voice serious. “You need to show him that you’ve moved on. No more pining, no more sad looks. You need to act like you’re perfectly fine, like he doesn’t even exist in your world anymore.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Easier said than done.”
“I’m serious, " Jisung insisted, his gaze unwavering. “If you let him see that he still has an effect on you, you’ll never be able to move forward. You’ve got to play it cool. Laugh, smile, act normal. Show him you’re better off now.”
You bit your lip, the knot in your stomach tightening. Jisung made it sound so simple, but the thought of pretending like everything was fine when you were still hurting seemed impossible.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” you admitted, your voice small.
Jisung sighed, but his expression softened. “I know it’s hard, but trust me. If you show him that you’ve moved on, it’ll hurt him more than any words you could say.”
You glanced up at him, doubt lingering in your eyes. “And what if I haven’t moved on?”
There was a pause, the weight of your words settling between you both.
Jisung looked away for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. When he looked back at you, there was a flicker of pain in his eyes, but he covered it quickly with a reassuring smile. “Then fake it till you make it. Eventually, you’ll get there.”
You let out a heavy sigh, staring down at your untouched food. Jisung’s words rang true, but pretending to be unaffected by Minho felt like lying to yourself. Still, he was right. You couldn’t keep letting Minho control your emotions.
“Fine,” you muttered, pushing your plate away. “I’ll act normal. But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”
Jisung grinned, his playful side coming through as he nudged your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”
-
Tonight was a team celebration.
The department head insisted on treating everyone to drinks. Normally, you would have declined, but when Jisung nudged you with a reassuring smile, saying he’d take care of you, it was impossible to say no. Your friends chimed in, encouraging you to join. You didn’t really have a choice.
As the night wore on, you found yourself getting drunk—drunker than you anticipated. The alcohol wasn’t strong enough to numb the ache you felt after seeing Minho again, though. Each glance in his direction reminded you of the past.
Jisung, who sat beside you, silently observed the way your expression shifted whenever Minho laughed or cracked a joke with your other female co-workers. You told yourself not to care, but it stung anyway, the memories too fresh. You couldn’t let him see that he still affected you, that you were still tethered to him by emotions you wished you could bury.
But as the alcohol coursed through your veins, your emotions began building up, dangerously close to overflowing. You fought the tears stinging your eyes.
Before a tear could slip, Jisung was on his feet. “I think it’s time for us to head out,” he announced to the group, his hand resting protectively on your shoulder.
You wanted to protest, but the words didn’t come. Jisung’s arm wrapped around you firmly as he led you outside, and once you were away from the loud chatter and clinking glasses, he finally let go.
The silence between you both was heavy. Without a word, he let you cry.
“I still love him,” you confessed, your voice trembling.
Jisung inhaled deeply, his gaze soft but filled with pain as he let you spill your heart out.
“Even after everything he’s done… I still love him,” you cried louder, your knees threatening to buckle under the weight of it all.
Jisung guided you to his car, gently supporting you while you vented, calling Minho a jerk, but then confessing how you still remembered the way he loved you—the way you loved each other.
“You know…” you said between sobs, “there was this one time, he rented out my favorite park for our anniversary. There were flowers everywhere, and in the center… there was this table. It was one of the most memorable moments of my life…”
Your voice trailed off, the memory twisting the knife deeper into your heart.
“I thought… I thought he was the one. I thought we’d get married, that we’d be together forever,” you said, and the fresh wave of tears spilled over as Jisung opened the passenger door for you. He guided you into the seat, gently fastening your seatbelt.
Before he could move away, you reached up, cupping his cheeks, holding him in place. His eyes widened in shock, unsure of what you were about to do.
“I wish… I wish I had fallen in love with you,” you whispered, voice raw with regret.
For a moment, you both just stared at each other. The world around you seemed to slow down, the weight of your words hanging in the air.
Jisung whispers your name, his voice cracking slightly.
Before he could finish, you closed the distance between you and kissed him. It was soft, hesitant at first, but the pain in your heart surged forward, and you kissed him harder, trying to drown out the lingering feelings for Minho.
Jisung froze for a split second, caught off guard by your actions. Then, he closed his eyes, kissing you back, but there was a hesitation in the way his lips moved against yours. His hands hovered near your shoulders, unsure whether to hold you or push you away.
It had become a pattern—getting drunk, crying over Minho, and kissing Jisung in the process, that end up you making out in his car. Jisung knew about Minho -- from the start, he
knew how much he still haunted you, and now, after seeing Minho in person, a deep fear settled within him.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. His eyes, still wide, searched yours for an explanation, for something to hold onto.
“Every time…” Jisung whispered, his voice trembling. “Every time you kiss me… I know it’s not really me you’re thinking about.”
The honesty in his words stung.
“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes again. “I wish it was you…”
“I know,” he replied softly, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheek. “But it’s not. And it never will be, will it?”
You didn’t have the heart to answer him, so you simply leaned your head against the car seat, eyes closing in exhaustion. The drive back was silent, the tension between you and Jisung suffocating.
-
The next morning came, and you were running late to work. The events of the previous night flooded your mind—crying over Minho, kissing Jisung. Shame twisted in your chest, but you tried to brush it off. Being late once wouldn’t hurt.
You hurried towards the elevator when suddenly, a hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you back.
“Let’s talk,” Minho’s deep voice commanded, sending chills down your spine.
“Let me go,” you protested, trying to pull away, but he was too strong. He dragged you to the emergency exit, closing the door behind you. The sudden isolation made your heart race.
Now you were alone with him—again.
“We don’t need to talk,” you snapped, trying to walk towards the door, but Minho’s arm slammed against the wall beside you, blocking your path.
“We. Need. To.” His voice was calm but forceful, his eyes dark as they bore into yours.
“Minho…” Your voice wavered, all the anger you wanted to hurl at him caught in your throat. You weren’t ready for this.
But Minho wasn’t going to let you escape.
“Do you still love me?” he asked bluntly, his eyes never leaving yours.
You stared at him, your lips trembling. You wanted to say no. You wanted to lie, to tell him he meant nothing to you anymore. But the truth was lodged in your throat, refusing to let you speak.
Minho’s gaze softened, a hint of sadness slipping through his cold exterior. “I know you still love me,” he whispered. “I can feel it. I still have an impact on you.”
His words snapped you out of your trance, anger bubbling up. The audacity.
You laughed bitterly. “How can you say that after everything you’ve done to me? After leaving me in the dark, after breaking me?”
Minho flinched but didn’t move. “Because I know you. And I know you can’t forget me.”
Your laugh turned hollow. “And if it’s true? What then, Minho?” you spat. “What does it matter?”
“If it’s true,” Minho stepped closer, his breath fanning your face, “then we should get back together.”
You stared at him in disbelief, laughter spilling out as tears blurred your vision. “Just like that? After everything?”
“I…” Minho faltered, his confidence wavering. “I didn’t cheat on you.”
“Liar!” You pushed him back, fury spilling out. “I saw you with her. You kissed my best friend.”
“I was drunk,” he muttered, his voice low with shame.
“Being drunk doesn’t excuse it!” you screamed, your voice cracking. “You still knew what you were doing.”
“I didn’t know… I didn’t realize it,” Minho insisted, his hands gripping your shoulders, eyes pleading. “I didn't know it would happen.”
“You’re lying, Minho. If it wasn’t true, you should’ve explained it then. But you didn’t. You just left.”
Minho’s eyes dropped, unable to meet your gaze anymore. “I…” His words failed him. Minho has a lot to tell but then he was now the one who can't talk.
“I wish I never saw you again,” you whispered, tears falling freely now. With that, you pushed past him and left the stairwell, slamming the door behind you.
Instead of going to your office, you headed straight for the exit. You couldn’t stay here. Not anymore. Not after this.
As you stepped outside, a familiar figure approached you—Jisung. He didn’t need to ask what happened. One look at your face told him everything.
Wordlessly, he guided you to his car, letting you cry in the passenger seat. The only sound in the car was your quiet sobs.
“I can’t do this anymore, Jisung,” you whispered after a long stretch of silence. “I can’t stay here. I need to leave. I need peace.”
Jisung’s heart clenched at your words, but he simply nodded, his voice soft. “I’ll come with you.”
You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. “No. I can’t drag you into this. I can’t keep hurting you.”
“You’re not a burden to me,” Jisung said, his voice raw with emotion. “I love you. I would do anything for you.”
You already knew he loved you, but hearing it still took you by surprise.
“If my heart was ready… I would choose you,” you whispered. “But right now… it’s too tired. It’s too hurt. I can’t just forget Minho and love you. I wish I could, but…”
Jisung nodded, understanding the weight of your words. “I’ll wait,” he whispered. “For as long as you need.”
-
You stood in the middle of the bustling airport, your suitcase by your side and your heart heavy with the weight of everything you were leaving behind. The noise of travelers passing by, announcements over the intercom, and the occasional laughter from nearby families faded into the background as your thoughts consumed you.
The sunglasses you wore hid the emotions you were trying so hard to suppress. You glanced around the busy terminal, trying to remind yourself why you were here, why you made this decision. You needed peace. You needed to be far away from Minho, from the memories, from everything that hurt. This was your chance to start over, somewhere no one knew your name or your past.
You took a deep breath, your hands tightening around the handle of your suitcase. You could do this. You had to. For your own sanity, for your heart. It was the best way to move on.
-
an: sdjahdj
omg. how can i post chan's fluff ending for bsn when he's like this TT


240824 DominATE in Seoul ©️Shuyichnyia
You were beautiful
(bsn ending ending #4)
seungmin x reader!! seungmin x fem reader. word count: 2.5k
bsn alternative ending #4 wherein; seungmin likes you more than you liked him
an: ill post 2 so that ill finish this as soon as i can coz being an uni stud is giving me headaches an: i love this. listen to seungmin's cover of day6 'you were beautiful' for better experience


part 1! part 2!
Seungmin always loved you.
You were just the oblivious one who never saw it. A genius in academics, but when it came to matters of the heart, you were completely clueless.
He always showed you how much he cared, but you never noticed.
He took care of you in ways that seemed ordinary to you because Seungmin was always caring for the people he loved. But what you didn't realize was that Seungmin only acted that way toward you. He wasn't as attentive to everyone else; his gentle ruffling of your hair, his sincere compliments like, "You're pretty," and the warm hugs he would give you—all of it was just for you.
And yet, you convinced yourself it was nothing special. You believed he treated everyone that way, so you hid your feelings as best you could. You ignored the flutter in your chest when he touched your hair, the tingling in your stomach when he complimented you, and the rapid beat of your heart whenever he hugged you. You thought these were all just friendly gestures.
when you saw Seungmin smiling sweetly at a classmate one day, offering to carry her bag. That was the moment you decided you would never, ever tell him how you felt. What if he laughed at you for being a delusional friend?
Little did you know, Seungmin had only helped your classmate because she was sick. There was nothing more to it, but you didn’t realize that at the time.
Seungmin was the reason you met everyone else. He was your friend since childhood, and when you both entered middle school, he introduced you to his seven friends. You were forever grateful to him for bringing these amazing people into your life.
When college came around and everyone chose different paths, Seungmin stayed by your side, taking the same course as you. Changbin joined as well, drawn by his love for solving problems.
Through it all, Seungmin remained close, and you were always thankful for his presence. But after that party, everything changed.
"You know, I realized I should have kept you to myself," Seungmin had said, his voice slightly slurred from the alcohol, but his words clear and deliberate.
He might have been drunk, but you knew he meant what he said. And that was when you finally realized Seungmin liked you.
You didn’t know how to react, especially knowing the feelings of your other friends. So instead of feeling joy that the person you liked also liked you, you were terrified.
When you walked into class one day, you felt two pairs of eyes on you—Changbin's and Seungmin's. You quickly looked down as you took your seat.
"My girl, you look stressed again," your friend Yuji remarked loudly, her usual energetic tone cutting through the quiet classroom.
"I'm okay," you replied, forcing a smile even though your heart was still heavy from the events of the party.
But Yuji wasn’t easily convinced. She narrowed her eyes, studying you carefully. "Well… you don't look okay to me," she said, her voice laced with concern. She was about to ask more, but thankfully, the professor walked in, diverting her attention.
You sighed in relief, though your mind was far from at ease. As the lecture began, you tried to focus, but your thoughts kept wandering back to the party, and the confusing mess of emotions swirling inside you. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t even hear the professor calling your name.
It wasn’t until the entire class turned to look at you that you snapped back to reality, heat rushing to your face as you stammered an apology. You sunk lower in your seat, trying to hide from the dozens of curious eyes still watching you.
After class, you hurriedly packed your things, eager to escape before Yuji could start questioning you again. But as you zipped up your bag, she approached you, her usual bright smile replaced with something more thoughtful.
Without a word, she placed two concert tickets on your desk, the ones you both had been excited about for weeks. You stared at them, then at her, confusion clear in your eyes.
“Go to the concert with Seungmin,” she said, her tone light, but her eyes watched you closely, waiting for your reaction.
Your heart stopped.
“What?” you whispered, disbelief creeping into your voice. You couldn’t have heard her right.
Yuji nodded toward the tickets. “You should go with him.”
You felt your pulse quicken, shock mixing with a twinge of panic. Yuji had always been vocal about her feelings for Seungmin—so much so that you had convinced yourself to bury your own feelings for him. And now, here she was, offering you the two tickets you knew she valued so much.
“You—what are you talking about?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might break the fragile reality around you.
She smiled gently, but there was a knowing look in her eyes. “Of course, I was just teasing about me and Seungmin. But I’ve always known he liked you.”
The room seemed to spin for a moment as you tried to process what she was saying. How could she just… give up like that? And for you?
“Yuji, I… I can’t take these,” you stammered, pushing the tickets back toward her. “You’ve been looking forward to this concert for weeks. And… you like Seungmin.”
Yuji laughed softly, shaking her head. “It’s not about that. I know what’s really important.”
She pushed the tickets back to you with a firm yet understanding look. “Take him to the concert. I can always get another ticket.”
You stared at her, still in shock, trying to comprehend the magnitude of her gesture. It was almost too much to believe, and your mind raced with a thousand thoughts. You had been so sure that Yuji was deeply in love with Seungmin, and now she was practically pushing you into his arms.
But you couldn’t do it. Not like this.
“Yuji… I’m really grateful. But… I think going with him would be a bad idea,” you replied, your voice heavy with the sadness of everything left unsaid.
Yuji’s smile faltered, a flicker of concern passing over her features. She knew there was more to this story, and as much as you wanted to avoid it, you knew that conversation was inevitable.
Later that evening, you invited Yuji to your apartment, unable to hold in the turmoil any longer. The cozy warmth of your space offered a safe haven as you both settled on the couch, surrounded by the familiarity of your shared memories. It was here, in this comforting atmosphere, that you finally let the floodgates open.
"I don’t even know where to start," you admitted, your voice trembling as you stared at your hands, twisting them nervously.
Yuji reached out, her touch gentle and reassuring as she held your hands in hers. "Start from the beginning," she urged softly, her eyes full of understanding.
Taking a deep breath, you began to recount everything—the mysterious blue sticky note you found tucked into your binder, the tension at the party, and the whirlwind of emotions that followed. Yuji listened intently, her expression growing more serious with each word you spoke.
When you finally finished, you felt a heavy weight lift off your chest, but it was quickly replaced by a new kind of uncertainty. Yuji squeezed your hands, her gaze searching your face.
"You can’t choose, can you?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of empathy and disbelief.
You shook your head slowly, the words catching in your throat. "It feels wrong to choose… like no matter what I do, someone will get hurt."
Yuji’s eyes softened, but there was a hint of concern there too. "But you have someone in mind, don’t you? Someone you feel more for?"
The question hung in the air between you, and you felt your heart constrict painfully. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, so instead, you bowed your head, your silence speaking louder than any words could.
Yuji sighed, her disbelief evident as she tried to process the situation. "It’s better not to choose than to hurt anybody," you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if saying it out loud would make it more real.
"And what about you?" Yuji’s question was gentle, but it hit you like a ton of bricks. Her concern for you was evident, and it only made the situation more complicated.
"I’m okay," you lied, offering her a weak smile that didn’t reach your eyes. You knew it wasn’t convincing, but it was all you could manage.
Yuji wasn’t fooled. "Okay with hurting yourself?" she asked, her tone laced with worry. She could see right through your facade, and it broke her heart to see you like this.
You didn’t respond, and the silence between you two was heavy with unspoken truths. Yuji squeezed your hands once more, a silent promise that she was there for you, no matter what.
The day of the concert arrived, and as you stood at the entrance, you couldn’t shake the nervousness that gnawed at you. You checked your watch anxiously, your heart racing. 'Why isn’t Yuji here yet? The concert’s about to start,' you thought, worry creeping into your mind as you dialed her number.
Just as you were about to press call, you spotted a familiar figure approaching from afar. Your breath caught in your throat as Seungmin came into view, his new cut hairstyle catching the light. It was the very style you had talked about last time, and the sight of it sent a pang of emotion through you.
He smiled as he approached, closing the distance between you two with a calm, easy confidence that only made your heart race faster. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his jacket as he stopped a few feet away, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Have you seen Yuji?" you asked, trying to keep the unease out of your voice, but the sinking feeling in your gut told you something wasn’t right.
Seungmin hesitated for a brief moment, but then he spoke, his tone light, almost playful. "I think she won’t be coming," he said, feigning cluelessness, but there was something in his eyes that gave him away.
"Why?" you pouted, the disbelief evident in your tone. You couldn’t understand why Yuji would bail on such an important event, especially after everything that had happened.
In reality, Seungmin had asked Yuji to let him take her place, promising to do her assignments for a month in return. He didn’t want to miss this opportunity, not after everything you had been through together.
"You’ve been avoiding me," Seungmin said, his gaze fixed on you, his voice soft but firm. It wasn’t an accusation, just a simple truth.
You couldn’t meet his eyes, so you looked away, the weight of everything pressing down on you once more. The silence between you grew, filled with everything that had been left unsaid.
Without another word, Seungmin reached out and gently took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "Let’s go. The concert is starting," he said, his voice calm, as if this was just another day.
With no other choice, you followed him into the venue, your heart pounding in your chest.
The concert began, and the energy in the air was electric. Seungmin, stood out in the crowd, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he fit into this scene. The band started playing, and though it was your favorite, you couldn’t bring yourself to sing along. The awkwardness between you two hung heavily in the air, a reminder of all the unresolved emotions between you.
Seungmin, determined to break the tension, began making jokes, his voice rising above the music. "You know, I can sing better than that," he teased, his tone playful as he impersonated the voices on stage. His antics were so ridiculous that you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound breaking through the heavy atmosphere. Slowly but surely, everything started to feel normal again, like it always did when Seungmin was around.
When the band played your favorite song, You Were Beautiful by Day6, you couldn’t help but sing along, your voice soft at first, then growing stronger as the song went on. Seungmin stood beside you, singing with you, his voice blending with yours in perfect harmony.
Without thinking, you wrapped one arm around his waist, waving your lightstick with the other, and he did the same, holding you close as the music filled the air. It was a moment of pure, unspoken connection, one that neither of you wanted to end.
As the lyrics washed over you, you glanced up at him, your heart aching with all the words you couldn’t say. If it were just about you, you would have chosen him. But love was never that simple, and the complexities of your situation weighed heavily on your heart.
You buried your feelings deep, trying to hide the pain that threatened to overwhelm you.
"I’m always in love with you," Seungmin whispered suddenly, his words cutting through the music, breaking the silence between you. His voice was steady, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes that you had never seen before.
You knew it, after everything that happened, but hearing it still surprised you, sending a shockwave through your system. After a long pause, you finally replied, "Me too." Your voice was barely above a whisper, and the words felt like a confession you weren’t ready to make. You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. "But we shouldn’t."
Seungmin, always understanding, simply nodded. He didn’t push, didn’t try to convince you otherwise. He knew how complicated everything was, and he wasn’t about to make it harder for you.
You smiled back, grateful that he now knew how you felt. And even though it wasn’t the beautiful, happy ending you had once dreamed of, it was enough. He understood you, and that was all you could ask for.
It wasn’t the most beautiful moment of your life, but in that instant, you felt content, knowing that Seungmin would always be there for you, even if things didn’t turn out the way either of you had hoped. And that, in its own way, was a kind of beautiful.
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an: is anyone still waiting for this update? cri masterlist