rmview - Tumblr blog

rmview · 1 month ago

Text

how they’d apologize, ENHYPEN.

featuring — enhypen members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — how the enhypen boys apologize after saying they want to break up with you in the middle of an argument! ( can be read as part 2 of this )

contents — hurt & comfort, regret.

hee ▪ seung

heeseung isn’t the type to explode in fights, but when the frustration piles up and he blurts out, “i want to break up,” the second it leaves his lips, regret punches him square in the chest. heeseung would spend hours spiraling — replaying your face when you heard those words, the way your eyes dropped, how your voice went small. he wouldn’t waste time. he’d show up at your door, no text, no call, because a message wasn’t enough. the moment you cracked the door open, his eyes would already be glossed over.

“i didn’t mean it. i swear to god, i didn’t mean it.” he’d be breathless, words tumbling over each other. “i was scared. i was hurting and i— i lashed out like a coward.” he’d tug nervously at his sleeves, voice trembling as he apologized over and over. “i love you. i need you. please don’t let me be the idiot who loses the best thing in his life because of a stupid fight.”

heeseung’s apologies would be raw, desperate, and honest — every inch of him willing to earn you back, no matter how long it took.

jay ▪

jay’s pride makes it hard for him to back down in the moment, but the guilt eats at him quickly. after saying those words, he wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t eat properly. he’d pace around his apartment rehearsing a thousand apologies in the mirror, only to stumble when he saw your photo on his phone.

his apology would come in person — and it wouldn’t be polished. “i was a fucking idiot.” he’d curse at himself more than you ever could. “i hurt the person i love most ‘cause i was too stubborn to admit i was scared. scared of losing you, scared of not being enough.” jay’s voice would be low, eyes on the ground, until he worked up the nerve to meet yours. “i don’t deserve forgiveness right now. but if you’ll let me, i want to prove i can be better for you.”

he’d leave it in your hands, no pressure — but his heart would be in every word.

jake ▪

jake’s heart would shatter the moment he saw your expression after his words. he’d probably chase after you immediately, already on the verge of tears. later, when the dust settled, he’d come to you with his tail between his legs, carrying something small he knew you liked — maybe a snack, maybe a bracelet you mentioned wanting once. but it wouldn’t be about gifts.

“y/n, i don’t even know how to say sorry right. i was so mad, and i said the worst thing i could possibly say to the person i love most.” his voice would crack, and he’d look like he hadn’t slept in days. “i didn’t mean it. not for a second. you’re everything to me, and losing you… it scares the shit out of me.”

jake would be the type to softly cry while apologizing, unable to hide his emotions, clutching your hand if you let him, begging silently for one more chance.

sung ▪ hoon

sunghoon’s the type to shut down in a fight — his words sharper than he intends, and when he blurts out “i want to break up,” it’s not because he means it, it’s because he panics. the regret would hit him instantly. he’d avoid you at first, not because he didn’t care, but because he wouldn’t know how to face the damage he caused. a day or two later, he’d show up at your place, hoodie pulled over his head, eyes bloodshot. his voice would be quiet, but steady.

“i messed up. bad.” he’d take a deep breath, fidgeting with his sleeves. “i was scared of how much you mean to me. it makes me… reckless sometimes. i thought pushing you away would protect me from getting hurt first. stupid, right?” he’d pause, searching your face. “i don’t want to break up. i don’t want a world without you in it. please… just tell me what i need to do to fix this.”

sunghoon would mean every word — his vulnerability plain in his teary eyes and trembling voice.

su ▪ noo

sunoo would feel instant, suffocating guilt. the moment those words left his lips, his heart would drop, and he’d barely let you walk away before chasing after you, calling your name, his voice cracking. he wouldn’t sleep a wink. the next morning, you’d find him standing outside your place, dark circles under his eyes, holding your favorite drink.

“i didn’t mean it. i swear i didn’t mean it.” he’d be breathless, eyes glossed over, desperate to explain. “i was hurt… and angry, and i said something unforgivable. but y/n — you mean too much to me. i love you more than my pride, more than my mistakes. i’m not okay without you.” he’d tear up mid-apology, reaching for your hand with a trembling one. “i’ll spend forever making this up to you if you’ll let me.”

sunoo wouldn’t hold back his emotions, his sincerity written in every inch of him.

jung ▪ won

jungwon is calm and collected most days — but when emotions build up, he can blurt out things he instantly regrets. after saying it, his world would stop. he wouldn’t even try to hide how wrecked he was by his own words. he’d message you non-stop that night — apologizing, begging you to meet him, leaving voice notes where his voice cracked.

when you finally opened the door, he’d look utterly wrecked. “i didn’t mean it. i… god, y/n, i was angry, and i lashed out. i’ve never hated myself more than i do right now.” he’d step closer, cautious, his usual confidence gone. “i’m so sorry. i let my pride speak instead of my heart. but my heart — it only wants you.”

his voice would break near the end, eyes pleading for even a sliver of hope. he’d do anything to fix this.

ni ▪ ki

ni-ki’s young, and sometimes impulsive with his words when hurt. saying “i want to break up” would have been a split-second decision driven by anger, and the crushing regret would settle in immediately after. he wouldn’t know what to do at first — pacing his room, debating if he should text, call, show up. finally, he’d come to your place late at night, looking small, nervous, and on the verge of tears.

“i… i messed up, didn’t i?” his voice would be barely audible. “i don’t want to lose you. i don’t even know why i said it. i was scared and mad and… stupid.” he’d look at you like you hung the moon. “i’m sorry, y/n. you don’t have to forgive me now, or ever. but i need you to know — i love you. more than anything.”

the words would be raw, his heart on his sleeve, willing to do anything to earn back your trust.

notes: thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed <3

1K notes · View notes

rmview · 1 month ago

Text

nikki - [en-core] ‘romance : untold -daydream-

#rb: muses

540 notes · View notes

rmview · 2 months ago

Text

cold shoulders, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — how the stray kids boys react when you give them the cold shoulder after an argument and don’t forgive easily!

contents — angst, hurt, ignoring.

bang ˠ chan

chan wasn’t used to you giving him the cold shoulder. not like this. sure — you’d gotten mad at him before, bickered over small things, had moments where you huffed and turned away when he got too bossy or distant. but this? this silence was heavier. this was you not replying to his texts. not looking at him when he spoke. moving past him in the apartment like he was invisible. it killed him.

the fight had been over something stupid. some late night at the studio when you’d begged him to come home, just one evening, just one dinner together after weeks of him being locked up in those four walls with nothing but music and stress weighing on his shoulders. and instead of agreeing, instead of apologizing, he’d snapped. told you you were being clingy. that he didn’t have time to babysit feelings when deadlines were crushing him.

the moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. but his pride, tired and overworked and frustrated, wouldn’t let him back down.

now here he was — two days later — watching you move around the kitchen, headphones in, ignoring the way his gaze followed your every step. he left your favorite drink by your side of the bed. it stayed untouched. ordered takeout from that place you loved. you barely touched the food. every attempt he made to bridge the space between you, you quietly shut down.

but chan wasn’t the type to give up. not when it came to you. he hovered in the doorway that night, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, hair a mess from restless fingers. “y/n,” he called softly, voice rough with the apology he couldn’t quite force out yet.

you didn’t turn around.

“i know you’re mad… and you should be,” he sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “i was a dick. i let stress get to my head and said shit i didn’t mean. you didn’t deserve that.”

nothing.

chan bit his lip, stepping closer. “i hate this, you know. us… not talking. it’s driving me insane.” when you didn’t respond, still scrolling through your phone, he sighed and sank onto the couch across from you, resting his head in his hands. “i miss you,” he mumbled into his palms.

that made you pause. just for a second. but you didn’t say anything, didn’t soften. and honestly? he understood. because this wasn’t about a quick sorry and moving on. this was about trust. about how you’d begged for a little time, a little space in his life that wasn’t buried under pressure, and he’d brushed you aside like you didn’t matter.

so, for the first time in a long time, bang chan decided to wait. no grand speech. no half-assed jokes to make you smile. just him, sitting quietly, hoping you’d let him earn your forgiveness the hard way. and if it took days, weeks — hell, months — he wasn’t going anywhere. because losing you, even for a second, was worse than any deadline.

felix ˠ

felix had never seen you like this.

you’d always been soft with him. even when you were frustrated, even when you rolled your eyes at his teasing or swatted his arm when he clung to you like an overgrown puppy, you never… iced him out. but after the fight last night — if you could even call it a fight — you’d shut down. completely.

he stood outside your room for what felt like forever, his hand hovering near the door, chewing on his lip as he debated knocking for the hundredth time. the light from under the door flickered with your tv, shadows moving. he knew you were awake. knew you’d heard him when he came in earlier, when he called your name softly, voice heavy with regret. but you hadn’t answered. felix wasn’t used to this kind of distance.

it had started over something small — it always did. he’d made a joke. some careless, teasing remark about how you were “too sensitive,” when you opened up about something that had been bothering you. he hadn’t meant it to sting, but the moment your expression fell, the guilt had hit him like a brick wall. and instead of apologizing properly, he’d awkwardly laughed it off, hoping you’d do the same.

but you didn’t. you went quiet. and now, hours later, you still hadn’t said a word.

felix paced the hallway, glancing at the door every few seconds. his chest hurt in that tight, awful way it did when things felt wrong. when people he cared about pulled away. he hated conflict. hated when the air between him and someone he loved felt heavy.

so he grabbed his phone, sent a message.

i’m sorry, angel. i messed up. can we talk?

read. no reply.

he sighed, leaning his forehead against the cool wood of your door. “y/n,” he whispered, voice cracking. “please don’t hate me.”

still nothing.

felix sank to the floor, back against the wall, fingers picking at the sleeve of his hoodie. he scrolled through your shared photos, stupid videos you’d taken of him half-asleep on the couch, goofy selfies he’d demanded after a coffee run, little snapshots of a relationship that had been his safe place. and now it felt like the walls were crumbling.

he stayed there for what felt like hours, the house eerily silent except for the faint hum of your tv. he didn’t try to force his way in. didn’t flood you with texts or beg you to come out. felix wasn’t that type. he knew sometimes people needed space. but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell.

before heading back to his room, he slid a note under your door — his handwriting messy and rushed.

i know i hurt you. i’ll wait. however long it takes. i just… i need you to know you mean everything to me. i’ll do better, i promise.

and then he left the hallway in silence, hoping you’d read it. hoping one day you’d believe it. because losing you over one stupid, thoughtless moment? that was the kind of thing felix knew he’d never forgive himself for.

lee ˠ know

lee know wasn’t used to being ignored. especially not by you.

you’d always been the person who called him out, pushed past his walls when no one else dared to. the one who teased him right back when he got sarcastic, who softened him with a smile when his words were sharp. but now… now you wouldn’t even look at him, and it was all his fault.

the fight had started ugly. tension building all week, small frustrations piling up until he said something he shouldn’t have. something cruel. defensive. his voice had been cold when he’d spat, “maybe if you weren’t always acting like you know everything, we wouldn’t be fighting all the damn time.”

and the second he saw the way your face fell — the way you’d swallowed hard, biting your lip like you were forcing yourself not to break — his heart had dropped straight to his stomach. especially since you didn’t yell back. didn’t cry. you went silent. and that silence hurt worse than any words you could’ve thrown at him.

now, hours later, you’d locked yourself in your room, your phone untouched on the counter. every time he passed by your door, the knot in his stomach tightened. the part of him that always needed to win, to have the last word, crumbled under the weight of how badly he’d messed up.

lee know paced the living room, restless. he thought about leaving — giving you space, like maybe that would help — but he couldn’t do it. not with the way your silence haunted the house. not with the memory of your eyes flickering, just for a second, like he was someone you didn’t recognize anymore.

“y/n,” he called softly, standing outside your door, voice rough with regret. “i didn’t mean it.”

nothing.

he let out a heavy breath, raking a hand through his hair. “i’m… i’m bad at this, okay? at saying how i feel. and when i get scared, or—” he cut himself off, scowling at how pathetic he sounded. “i push people away. but i don’t wanna push you away.”

silence. the kind that made his chest ache in a way he didn’t know how to fix.

lee know leaned his forehead against the door. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his pride cracking wide open. “for being a dick. for not knowing how to handle someone who actually… cares about me.”

he stayed there, listening to the quiet hum of your music inside. he could picture you lying on the bed, headphones in, pretending you didn’t hear him. and honestly, maybe he deserved it. deserved to stew in it a little. but that didn’t stop the urge to fix it.

“look,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “i don’t expect you to forgive me right now. hell, i don’t know if you ever will. but i’m not gonna pretend like it doesn’t matter to me. because it does.”

his fingers brushed against the doorknob before he pulled away. “i’ll wait,” he said, softer now. “and when you’re ready to yell at me or cuss me out or whatever… i’ll be here.”

and then he left, the hollow ache in his chest heavier than it had been in years. because losing you? that wasn’t something lee know could stomach.

hyun ˠ jin

hyunjin wasn’t good at waiting. you hadn’t said a word to him since the fight. not a glance, not a muttered complaint, not a teasing shove. the silence was brutal — worse than any shouting match you’d ever had, worse than when you used to push each other’s buttons just to see who’d crack first. but this time, it was different, because he’d gone too far.

the words still echoed in his head, laced with heat and spite. he’d been tired. stressed. the comeback preparations were gnawing at his nerves, and the last thing he wanted was to drag you into it. but you’d called him out — like you always did when he started spiraling — and instead of leaning on you, he shoved you away.

“maybe it’s easier if you just stay out of my life,” he’d snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

the moment the words left his mouth, he felt it. that gut-wrenching regret, the instant knowledge that he didn’t mean it — not for a second. but it was too late. he watched the light drain from your face, watched your jaw clench like you were holding back tears. and then you left, the soft click of the door behind you feeling louder than any slammed one.

now, hours later, the apartment was too quiet. the lack of your presence gnawed at him. hyunjin sat on the couch, a sketchbook in his lap, though his pencil hadn’t moved in ages. he kept glancing at his phone, willing it to light up with your name. an angry text. a scathing message. anything. but nothing came.

“y/n,” he muttered to himself, scrubbing a hand down his face. “god, i’m such an idiot.”

he finally got up, heart pounding, and padded toward your room. the door was cracked open, but you weren’t inside. the bed still made, the window slightly ajar. he bit his lip, guilt settling heavier in his chest. “can we… can we talk?” he asked softly, though the room stayed empty.

hyunjin sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “i don’t know why i always do this. push people away when i’m hurting. you didn’t deserve that. you didn’t deserve any of it.”

he blinked hard, his throat tight. the sketchbook in his hands felt heavier than ever. he flipped it open, revealing the latest page — a half-finished sketch of you. quietly beautiful, eyes crinkled in laughter like the way you used to look at him.

“i keep trying to pretend i’m okay on my own,” he continued, voice breaking a little. “but the truth is… i’m not. not without you.”

the silence felt suffocating. he left the sketchbook on your bed, open to that page, and stepped back. he didn’t expect you to forgive him right away. honestly, he wasn’t even sure if you’d come back tonight. yet he still hoped.

“whenever you’re ready,” hyunjin whispered, backing out of the room. “i’ll be here, waiting.” and for once, he meant to wait.

jeong ˠ in

jeongin knew the second the words left his mouth that he’d regret them.

but in the heat of the moment — heart pounding, frustration thick in his chest — he hadn’t cared. he just wanted to win the argument. he wanted you to stop looking at him with that wounded expression, to stop making him feel like the bad guy.

“i don’t even know why i bother with you sometimes,” he’d muttered bitterly, storming out before he could see the way your face crumpled. and now, he wished he hadn’t. because it had been two days. two entire days.

you’d ignored his texts, left his calls unanswered, even avoided the group chat the two of you usually spammed with memes and inside jokes. at the dorm, he caught himself glancing at your contact every few minutes, wondering if maybe you’d just decide to yell at him and get it over with. anything would’ve been better than this complete, aching silence.

jeongin hated this. hated not hearing your laugh. hated knowing he was the reason you weren’t smiling. he sat alone on the rooftop that night, hoodie pulled up, fiddling with his phone while his stomach churned. the city lights blurred below him, and every notification made his heart stutter — hoping, praying it was you. but it never was.

“damn it,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. he remembered the way you always brought him snacks after a long practice. the way you’d mock him for being dramatic but still hug him when he was down. the little things he took for granted until now. and now? he might’ve lost you for good because of his stupid temper.

he scrolled through your old messages, fingers trembling a little when he reached a picture you’d sent a week ago — you and him at the arcade, grinning like idiots with matching plushies on your heads. his throat burned.

“i didn’t mean it, y/n,” he whispered into the night. “i was angry. and scared. and stupid.” he bit his lip, hesitating before typing out yet another message.

i miss you. i’m sorry.

he stared at the words, thumb hovering over the send button, before eventually locking his phone without sending it. because he knew sorry wouldn’t be enough this time. not right away. but jeongin wasn’t giving up.

tomorrow, he’d wait outside your place with your favorite pastries. he’d sit in front of your door if he had to, leave notes, beg your forgiveness with every cheesy rom-com move he could think of. because losing you wasn’t an option. not to him.

“i’ll fix this,” he promised quietly to the empty sky. “no matter what it takes.”

han ˠ

han wasn’t used to you ignoring him. you were the one person who never made him feel like he was “too much.” the one who laughed at his dumb jokes, let him ramble at three a.m., and knew how to calm his overthinking when it spun out of control. but now… the silence was unbearable.

he could still hear his own voice from that night, sharp and reckless in the heat of the argument. “you always do this! acting like you’re perfect when you’re just as messed up as the rest of us. maybe i need someone who isn’t always breathing down my neck.”

the minute it came out, he regretted it. your face had fallen — not angry, just quietly devastated. and that hurt worse than if you’d screamed. yet instead of apologizing, han did what he always did when he didn’t know how to handle emotions: he ran. left before you could reply, thinking he’d cool off, come back, and fix it later.

except later never came, because now you weren’t replying. not to his spam messages. not to the voice notes he left you at midnight. not to the random memes or his half-baked apologies typed and deleted a hundred times.

even when he tried casually showing up outside your building with bubble tea like it was just another day, your roommate told him you didn’t want to see him. and han… han was spiraling.

“idiot,” he cursed himself, pacing his room for the tenth time that night. his phone buzzed with group chat nonsense, and he barely glanced at it. his world felt a little too quiet without you in it.

he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of everything sank in. you made him better. you kept him grounded when his brain turned against him. you were the only one who understood that when han cracked a joke, it sometimes meant he was falling apart underneath. and now? he might’ve ruined that.

“i miss you,” he whispered into the emptiness of his room. his chest ached when he scrolled to your contact, thumb trembling as he typed.

i get it if you don’t wanna talk. but please… can you just tell me if you’re okay? that’s all i need.

he sent it this time. didn’t care if it made him look desperate, because han jisung would rather be a fool in love than lose you forever.

tomorrow, if you didn’t reply, he’d show up anyway. bring your favorite snacks, stand outside your door like a lovesick puppy, and refuse to leave until you opened it. he didn’t know how to be okay without you. and maybe he didn’t deserve you, but he wasn’t going to give up. not this time.

seung ˠ min

seungmin never expected you to forgive him easily. he knew you. you didn’t play games. if something hurt, you wouldn’t pretend it didn’t. but this… this silence hurt more than he was prepared for. he could still hear the words he’d thrown that night, laced with frustration and pride. “if you can’t handle being with someone like me, maybe you shouldn’t be with me at all.”

he didn’t mean it. god, he didn’t mean it. it was the kind of thing you said in a moment where your pride bruised before your heart could catch up. you’d been calling him out for shutting down when he was stressed, for acting like he didn’t care. and instead of explaining that he cared too much, seungmin pushed back.

it wasn’t his style to beg for forgiveness. he thought time and space would cool things down, that maybe in a day or two you’d send a dry text like, ‘you’re still an asshole.’

but nothing came. no good morning text. no sarcastic comeback in the group chat. no midnight video call asking if he ate. seungmin felt the emptiness in ways he didn’t know how to name. the apartment was too quiet without your teasing remarks. the coffee he made tasted wrong without your constant complaint that it was “too bitter, like your personality.” even the ridiculous variety shows you forced him to watch alone felt dull.

he found himself checking his phone every few minutes, not even pretending it was for anything else. days passed like this. and though his pride tried to convince him it was fine, his heart knew better. you weren’t ignoring him to win a fight. you were hurt and he was the one who did it.

seungmin sat on his couch one evening, your favorite snack in a bag beside him — he’d instinctively grabbed it on his grocery run. without thinking, he opened his messages.

i’m not good at this. but i’m sorry. i said something i didn’t mean because i was scared you’d leave first. i get it if you don’t want to talk to me now, but… i miss you. and i’ll wait.

he sent it before his overthinking could stop him. then he stared at the screen. waited. hoped. even if you didn’t forgive him soon, seungmin promised himself he’d show up. in his own quiet, stubborn, seungmin way — one snack, one dry text, one poorly hidden soft moment at a time. because you mattered more than his pride ever could.

chang ˠ bin

changbin could deal with shouting. hell, he preferred it. if you screamed at him, told him he was an idiot, threw a pillow in his face and called him names — at least it meant you still cared enough to be mad. but this? this silence? it was killing him.

it had started after that stupid fight. something small and dumb at first — he came home late from practice without texting, you were already upset from a bad day, words escalated, tempers flared. and in the heat of it, he’d let frustration speak for him.

“if being with me’s such a burden, maybe you shouldn’t be.” the second it left his mouth, changbin wanted to snatch the words out of the air and swallow them whole.

but your face… the way it fell, the way your eyes glossed over, like you physically felt those words hit you — he knew he fucked up. and now, three days later, you hadn’t answered his texts. you didn’t pick up his calls. he even sent you a voice note because you always teased him about how he sounded in them — but even that, left on read.

when you crossed paths at the company building by accident, you didn’t spare him a glance. didn’t even acknowledge his presence. that crushed him more than he thought possible.

in public, changbin still smiled, still cracked jokes with the boys, but they could see something was off. he was quieter. distracted. constantly checking his phone like a man waiting on a miracle.

back home, your absence was everywhere. the sweatshirt you left on his chair. the playlist you made still queued on his speaker. your favorite mug untouched on the shelf. he missed you so bad it made his chest ache.

one night, unable to take it anymore, changbin grabbed his keys and headed to your apartment. his hand shook when he knocked, heart pounding like it was trying to break out of his ribcage.

you opened the door, expression guarded, arms crossed like a barrier between you and the storm he brought.

“i know you don’t wanna hear from me,” changbin started, voice rough. “and you don’t owe me anything. but… i had no right to say what i did. i was pissed, and i took it out on you, and that’s not okay.”

you stayed silent, but your eyes glistened.

“i miss you. everything about you. even your nagging, even your bad taste in tv shows. i miss you so much it hurts.” he took a breath, chest tight. “i’m not here to beg. i’m here to tell you i’m sorry. and… that no matter how long it takes, i’ll be waiting for you to forgive me. ‘cause you’re it for me.”

your gaze faltered for a second, and in that tiny crack, changbin let hope slip in. he didn’t know when — or if — you’d let him back in. but he’d wait. because some people are worth it, and for changbin, you always would be.

notes: aww poor guys xp but anon wanted them to suffer so that’s all they’ll do this fic xD no part 2!

2K notes · View notes

rmview · 2 months ago

Text

SOOBIN: love language | music bank

#rb: muses

1K notes · View notes

rmview · 2 months ago

Note

about the links in the mastelist, i second anons ask. some links aren't working mostly for enha links and some for skz.

really?? i triple checked the links and they’re all working fine to me 😭😭😭 anyone know how to fix this??

#notes from visitors

3 notes · View notes

rmview · 2 months ago

Note

how would Enhypen apologise after saying “I want to break up with” (I just read your fic on Enhypen saying I want to break up with you in an argument)

scheduled to post: 7th may, 2025 at 5pm gmt

thank you for requesting <3

#notes from visitors #inbox: requests

6 notes · View notes

rmview · 2 months ago

Text

WOOYOUNG :: PARIS FASHION WEEK

#rb: muses

2K notes · View notes

rmview · 2 months ago

Text

i’m thinking of refreshing this blog with a new concept/theme sometime by the end of the month. what do you guys think would suit this blog more? (extra ideas can be dropped in the comments of this post or my inbox)

#letters from the curator #might not even do any of these :’) they’re just rough ideas

2 notes · View notes

rmview · 2 months ago

Text

you disappear after a fight, mafia!SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — an imagine of how the mafia stray kids boys react when they tell you to leave during an argument and you disappear!

contents — angst, hurtful words, disappearing, possible kidnapping, regret.

bang ♙ chan

the argument wasn’t supposed to spiral like this. it started over something small — a careless comment from one of his men, a territorial glance, your frustration over always being kept in the dark. you’d snapped, and for once, you didn’t back down when chan raised his voice.

“i’m not your possession, chan! i’m a person, not one of your men you can order around!”

he was tense, jaw clenched, pacing the floor of his private office while his fingers ran anxiously through his hair. the stress of rival families breathing down his neck, shady deals, and betrayals had worn him thin. but none of that was an excuse. he knew it the second the words left his mouth.

“then get lost. go. if you can’t handle this life, if you can’t handle me, then get the fuck out.”

the silence that followed was suffocating.

you stared at him, stunned — not because you’d never fought before, but because you never thought he would throw you away like that. not when you’d stayed, despite the danger. despite everything.

“fine,” you whispered. no tears. no pleading. just cold resignation.

you turned and walked out before he could stop you. but hours passed. then a day. then two. and you didn’t come back.

at first, chan was stubborn, convincing himself you needed space. he kept the others from looking for you, burying himself in work, pretending it was what he wanted.

but then your phone went dead. your apartment was untouched. no signs of you at your usual spots. none of the safe houses you both used. his men couldn’t find a single trace. and suddenly, the crushing weight of those words came back to him like a tidal wave.

“i didn’t mean it,” he whispered to no one in particular, sitting alone in his office with his head in his hands.

felix was the first to call him out.

“hyung, something’s wrong. she wouldn’t just disappear.”

the guilt festered in chan’s chest, sharp and suffocating. what if someone got to you? his enemies weren’t the type to show mercy. and if they found out how much you meant to him — how much you still meant, even if he was too much of a coward to say it —

“find her,” chan snapped, standing so quickly his chair toppled back. “turn over every street, every contact. i don’t care what it takes. bring her home.”

but deep down, what terrified him more wasn’t the idea of you being kidnapped. it was the possibility you left because you finally realized you deserved better.

he stared at the bracelet you’d left behind on his nightstand — a cheap little trinket you once said brought you luck. he hated how empty the apartment felt. how cold his bed was without you in it.

if you were out there, alive and avoiding him, chan swore to himself he’d tear the world apart to find you and make things right. and if someone else had taken you? well — the city would burn.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he whispered into the dark, clutching your bracelet. “i’ll fix this… i swear i will.”

but the silence was unforgiving. and you were nowhere to be found.

felix ♙

the warehouse was thick with tension, lit only by the flickering overhead lights. felix’s voice, usually calm and grounding, came sharp this time — edged with something unfamiliar, something bitter.

“i told you to stay the hell out of it, y/n!”

you flinched at the volume, heart hammering in your chest. you hadn’t meant to get involved. one of the lower-ranked men had made a mistake, and you stepped in to help, thinking it would ease the situation. but instead, it spiraled into this. another fight. another harsh accusation thrown your way.

“i was just trying to help, lix,” you muttered, your throat tight.

“help?” he scoffed, running a hand through his hair, his usually soft gaze hardened. “do you have any idea what could’ve happened if they found out how close you are to me? you think this is a game?”

your stomach twisted. you’d heard this speech before. about how dangerous it was. how being involved with him painted a target on your back. and yet, you stayed. you always stayed.

but today, something inside him cracked. maybe it was the stress. the way rival syndicates had started closing in. the threats. the backstabbing. and for a moment — he let the wrong words slip.

“maybe it was a mistake letting you stay this long.”

the world stopped.

you stared at him, your breath caught, disbelief spreading like ice in your veins. felix froze too, the weight of his own words immediately crashing down. the expression on your face — one of betrayal, of heartbreak — made his stomach turn.

“wait —”

“no,” you whispered, holding up a hand. “i get it.”

and before he could take it back, you walked away.

felix stood frozen, heart pounding. his mouth opened to call you back, but his throat was dry. his pride, his fear, kept him silent.

you didn’t show up that night. or the next. your apartment was empty. your phone went straight to voicemail. even his contacts couldn’t trace you.

at first, felix tried to tell himself you needed time. that you’d cool off. come home. you always did. but days turned into a week. and with each passing hour, the knot in his chest tightened.

his nights became restless. he’d sit in his room, clutching the small silver chain you’d once given him, the one with a tiny charm he never took off. he’d stare at it, running his thumb over the smooth surface, remembering how you laughed when you clasped it around his neck.

“i’m your good luck charm now,” you had said. it felt like a lifetime ago.

felix barely spoke to the others. his usual warmth dulled into something cold and distant. even bang chan noticed.

“you’re spiraling, lix,” chan said quietly one evening.

“i let her go,” felix admitted, his voice breaking for the first time. “i said something i didn’t mean and now — now she’s just… gone.”

chan’s jaw tightened. “have you considered maybe someone took her?”

that thought had haunted him every day since. if anyone knew what you meant to him — and in this world, secrets didn’t stay hidden for long — they’d use you against him. and he wouldn’t survive it.

he clenched the chain tighter. “i’ll find her,” he swore under his breath. “even if it’s the last thing i do.”

but in the quiet of his room, with nothing but shadows for company, felix was left with a single, unbearable question. what if she left because of me?

and no amount of bloodshed would fix that.

lee ♙ know

the room was thick with cigarette smoke, the sharp scent of gun oil hanging in the air. minho paced the length of his office, jaw clenched, eyes dark and stormy. you stood your ground, though your heart pounded beneath your ribs. this wasn’t the first time tempers flared between you. but this was different. there was something in the air tonight. a pressure neither of you could escape.

“i told you to stay out of this,” minho growled, slamming a hand down on the desk. papers fluttered, a glass tipped over.

“and i told you i wasn’t going to stand by while you get yourself killed!” you shot back, voice trembling more with emotion than fear. “i love you, you stubborn bastard. do you even get that?”

he froze for a fraction of a second, something soft flickering in his gaze before it hardened again. the world had taught lee know to keep his heart buried, to use sharp words as armor. and right now, his instincts screamed to push you away before you got hurt.

“love me?” he scoffed bitterly. “if you really loved me, you’d know your place.”

the words hung in the air like a slap. you felt them like a punch to the gut. minho saw it too — the way your expression crumbled, your eyes dimming, shoulders dropping.

“i didn’t…” he swallowed hard, but pride — damn his pride — kept him from saying what he should have.

“no, it’s fine,” you whispered, the fight draining out of you like water from a cracked glass. “i get it.”

you turned, walking toward the door, your figure framed in the dim light. every step you took was another crack in his armor, but minho didn’t move. couldn’t. when the door closed behind you, the room felt suffocating.

for the first hour, he told himself good riddance. that this was for the best. you’d be safer, far from this bloody world. you didn’t belong in the shadows anyway.

by nightfall, regret began to gnaw at him. by morning, when you didn’t come home, it had twisted into raw panic. he called your phone. no answer. sent one of his men to your apartment. empty. no note. no sign. no explanation.

minho wasn’t one to show weakness, but by the third day, even his men noticed the cracks. the way his temper flared, his orders sharp and reckless, how he didn’t sleep, barely ate, eyes flicking to the door every time someone entered as if half-expecting you to appear.

when felix cautiously approached him with your bracelet — the one you never took off — found near the docks, something inside minho shattered.

“you think…?” felix started carefully.

minho snatched the bracelet, fingers curling tight around the delicate chain.

“i’ll find her,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “whoever has her… or if she left on her own… i’ll find her.”

but alone, with only the silence for company, minho replayed those final words over and over. if you really loved me, you’d know your place.

he didn’t mean them. god, he didn’t mean them. it was meant to protect you, to scare you away from this life before it ate you alive. but now — he wasn’t sure if he’d destroyed the one thing worth protecting. and in the suffocating quiet of his office, lee know swore on his life: he’d find you.

even if it killed him.

hyun ♙ jin

the city skyline glittered beyond the penthouse windows, a thousand pinpricks of light against the dark. but hyunjin wasn’t looking at any of it. he was staring you down, eyes wild, hair a tousled mess from running his hand through it a thousand times since this fight began. the tension between you crackled like an open wire, sharp enough to sting.

“why can’t you just stay out of it?” he barked, voice frayed at the edges.

you stood your ground, though your heart felt bruised. “because you keep bleeding for people who wouldn’t blink if it was your body lying cold in the street, jinnie. i won’t sit by while you get yourself killed.”

hyunjin’s face twisted, a storm of fear and fury and frustration swirling behind those beautiful, dangerous eyes. god, you had no idea how much you meant to him. how terrified he was every second you were tangled up in his world. but like a fool, the only way he knew how to protect what he loved was to push it away.

“you think you matter to me more than this family?” he spat, the words ugly, the venom in them making him flinch even as they left his mouth. “you’re a goddamn liability. if i knew you’d be like this… i wouldn’t have bothered.”

you recoiled as though struck.

hyunjin’s chest heaved. silence filled the space between you, broken only by the pounding of his heart against his ribs. your lips parted, as if to say something, but you just nodded.

“okay,” you said softly. “okay, hyunjin.”

and then you turned and walked out. he didn’t follow. he couldn’t.

the door clicked shut with a finality that left the air thick, suffocating. hyunjin dropped into the leather chair behind his desk, head in his hands. what the fuck had he just done?

for hours, he stared at the dark, empty doorway. told himself it was for your own good. that if you hated him, you’d leave and be safe. but the echo of your last words haunted him.

okay, hyunjin.

it was the absence of your scent in the apartment, the stillness of your side of the bed that night that broke him. and by morning, when seungmin showed up with a grim face and a message:

“she’s gone.”

“what do you mean, gone?”

“no one’s seen her since last night. she’s not at her place, not at work. phone’s off.”

a creeping dread crawled down hyunjin’s spine. at first, he convinced himself you were cooling off. needed space. a day, maybe two. but then a call came in from a contact at the docks — an earring, one of yours, found near an abandoned warehouse. hyunjin’s blood ran cold.

a million scenarios tore through his mind — kidnappers, a rival gang making a move, or worse. he felt his heart rip open at the thought that you’d left because of what he said. and now you were gone, and he might never get the chance to say he didn’t mean it. that he was a coward. that he loved you so fucking much it terrified him.

by the third day, hyunjin stopped going to meetings. stopped answering calls. he was a ghost in his own world, drinking too much, eyes bloodshot, replaying your last conversation on a loop.

and every time he passed by the bedroom, he’d catch himself reaching for you.

okay, hyunjin.

the sound of it would echo in his skull. and now, with no leads, no trace, and a hollow ache eating him alive, hyunjin vowed to burn the city down to find you. because losing you wasn’t an option.

not when he’d barely started to admit he needed you to breathe.

jeong ♙ in

the rain hammered down against the warehouse roof, slicking the world in silver. jeongin’s hand gripped the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles blanched white, jaw clenched like a trap about to snap shut. you stood across from him, chest heaving, drenched from chasing him down, refusing to let this fight end the way it always did — with you being the one to back down.

but this time, you were too late. something in jeongin’s expression had shifted — a volatile mix of fear, anger, and helplessness all masquerading as cruelty.

“you don’t get it, do you?” his voice came out sharp, biting, desperate. “this isn’t your world, y/n. it never was. you’re a weakness i can’t afford to carry.”

the words stung, but you stood your ground. “i didn’t ask to be protected, jeongin. i asked you to stop shutting me out like i don’t matter. like i haven’t been standing by you through everything.”

he scoffed, but the way his throat bobbed betrayed him. “and you think that makes you safe?” he snapped. “it makes you a target. and if i knew you’d be so stubborn, so reckless — i wouldn’t have fucking let you in.”

you flinched like he’d slapped you. the moment the words left his lips, regret hit him like a freight train. but it was too late. he saw your face crumble in real time, your eyes gloss over, the ache in your chest so visible it nearly shattered him on the spot.

“i get it,” you whispered, voice cracking. “you win, jeongin.”

and then you turned and walked out into the rain.

jeongin didn’t move. couldn’t. he told himself not to — that it was better this way. that if you hated him, you’d stay away, and you’d live. but when the hours ticked by and your phone went to voicemail, when the safehouse you sometimes hid at was cold and empty, and no one in his crew had seen you, unease settled in his gut like a storm cloud ready to burst.

the first night, he stared at his ceiling until dawn, fighting the urge to call, to apologize, to beg. the second day, felix showed up at the door, his expression tight. “she’s gone, hyung.”

“what the fuck do you mean gone?”

“no one’s seen her. she’s not answering anyone. and —” felix hesitated, swallowing. “there’s talk. a car was found by the docks. her phone was inside.”

jeongin felt his knees nearly buckle. a cold sweat broke out across his skin. “who took her?” his voice dropped to something lethal, barely human.

“we don’t know yet.”

and just like that, the storm inside him broke.

jeongin tore through the city like a man possessed. every contact, every rival crew, every informant — he interrogated them all. threatened, bribed, broke bones. no one got away untouched. every second without you felt like his chest was being hollowed out. because as cruel as he’d been, as sharp as his tongue could cut, he loved you in a way that terrified him. and now, you were gone.

each night he went back to his apartment, it felt emptier, the silence so loud it drowned out his thoughts. the blood on his hands didn’t matter. the empire he’d built felt worthless. because you weren’t there to scold him for getting hurt, to steal his hoodies, to tease him about his dimples.

and every time it rained, the sound would bring him back to that night — the look on your face, the pain in your voice.

you win, jeongin.

but he hadn’t won a damn thing. and now he swore, if it took tearing the city apart brick by brick, he’d find you. and when he did, god help anyone who’d laid a hand on you. because there was no fury like mafia jeongin scorned — and no force on earth would keep you from him again.

han ♙

the argument had started like so many others between you and han — sharp words, too much emotion, both of you too stubborn to back down. the stakes in his world were high, and it made him reckless with his temper and cruel with his words when he felt cornered. and that night… he went too far.

“you should’ve stayed the hell out of my life,” han spat, his voice louder than he intended, raw and frayed at the edges. “i warned you what being with me meant — you think this is some fairytale? that i’m some good guy under all this?”

you’d tried to stay calm, biting back tears, knowing how he got when he was afraid. because that’s what this was — fear dressed up as fury. but it didn’t make the words cut any less.

“i stayed because i love you, jisung. but you — you’re so busy pushing everyone away, you don’t realize you’re breaking the people who give a damn about you.”

he laughed, bitter and humorless, shoving a hand through his hair. “good. then maybe you’ll finally get the hint and leave before someone uses you to hurt me.”

you stared at him. “that what you want? for me to leave?”

his eyes met yours for a heartbeat. too long. too much. and then the mask went back up.

“yeah,” he forced out, voice cracking just enough for you to catch it before he turned away. “get lost. i don’t need you.”

you left. you slammed the door so hard it rattled the frame, and he just stood there in the echo of the empty room, his chest heaving, hands trembling. the silence was deafening.

he told himself it was better this way. that this was the only way to keep you safe in a world where people like him had blood on their hands and targets on their backs. he drank himself numb that night, hoping to forget the look in your eyes when you’d left.

but forgetting you was impossible. and when he woke the next morning and found your phone still on the table, and your location not showing up, an eerie, gnawing dread settled in his gut.

it got worse when you didn’t show up at your friend’s place. when no one had seen you at work. when your emergency contact hadn’t heard a thing. felix showed up mid-afternoon, pale and grim.

“jisung… there’s a problem.”

the words sent a chill down han’s spine. “what kind of problem?” he rasped, voice thick with hangover and panic.

“there was a tip… someone matching y/n’s description was seen near the docks last night. with a couple of guys — from mingi’s old rival crew.”

everything in him snapped. his heart felt like it stopped, then kickstarted into overdrive. the world blurred around him as rage and terror clawed through his chest. all his instincts, all his guilt, surged at once. “no,” he breathed. “no, no, no —”

he was on his feet, barking orders before felix could even finish explaining. “i want every goddamn rat in this city hunted down. if someone took her — if they touched her—” his voice cracked, but his expression was pure murder. “they’re dead.”

the thought of you out there, scared, alone, maybe hurt because of him… it wrecked him. because the truth was, han jisung loved you so much it terrified him. and in trying to protect you by pushing you away, he’d only made it worse. now you were gone, and he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to say what he should’ve said that night.

that he didn’t want you to leave. that he needed you. that he was scared. and he swore to himself — if he found you, if you were still alive — he’d make it right, even if it took the rest of his life.

because losing you was the one thing he wasn’t built to survive.

seung ♙ min

the fight that night wasn’t like the others. it didn’t start with sharp sarcasm or low jabs meant to irritate. it started quiet — a look, a question you didn’t mean to land like a blow.

“do you even care anymore, seungmin?”

he stiffened where he stood, jaw clenching, dark eyes flicking to you across the room. the tension between you two had been unbearable for weeks. the danger he tried to keep at bay was closing in. rival families making moves, his men getting hurt, deals falling through. you were the only softness in his life… and he hated himself for needing it so badly.

but seungmin wasn’t good at letting people close. he loved hard, quietly, and when the world turned volatile, his instinct was to cut ties before anyone else could rip them away.

you knew that. you just didn’t expect to be the one he’d cut.

“i asked you a question,” you said, voice tight, arms crossed though your hands trembled.

he swallowed, tried to look away — couldn’t. and because fear felt like anger in his chest, because losing you felt too much like weakness, the words slipped out cold and lethal. “if you were smarter, you would’ve left a long time ago.”

the silence after felt suffocating. your lips parted, like you’d say something, but no sound came. his own chest hurt, like the words he’d just thrown at you ricocheted back, sharper than he intended.

you nodded slowly, eyes shining. “okay.”

you didn’t scream, didn’t beg. you just turned, grabbed your bag, and walked out. not bothering to slam the door, not glancing back. seungmin stood there, a ghost of a man, staring at the door like he couldn’t comprehend what he’d done.

the hours after blurred. he kept expecting his phone to buzz, a message to appear, a familiar knock at his office door. but the silence stretched on. his men came and went, reporting about shipments, skirmishes, meetings — none of it registered.

when changbin finally showed up, looking grim, a bad feeling coiled in his gut.

“what?” seungmin asked, voice hoarse.

“she’s… gone.”

his stomach dropped. “gone where?”

“that’s the problem. no one knows. she’s not at her place. didn’t show at her job. her phone’s off.”

a cold sweat broke out across his skin. his head pounded. “did someone take her?”

changbin hesitated, and that pause said more than words ever could. “there’s a chance,” changbin admitted. “we’re trying to track down any leads.”

seungmin’s heart, normally so guarded and steady even in the face of death threats and shootouts, lurched painfully in his chest.

and all he could think about was your face the night before. how he’d thrown you away with words designed to keep you safe but only ended up leaving you vulnerable. he felt sick.

“i want every contact on the streets. i don’t care if it’s some street rat or one of minho’s spies — find her,” seungmin ordered, voice steel and acid beneath the panic. “anyone touches her… they’re dead.”

his men scattered. seungmin stayed behind, sinking into his chair, head in his hands. because the truth was, you were the only person who saw him as more than the cold strategist, the mafia boss with ice in his veins. you saw the boy who loved indie songs and late-night drives. the man who worried more than he’d admit.

he’d told you to leave. told you he didn’t care. he didn’t deserve forgiveness. but that didn’t stop him from praying you’d survive long enough for him to try. and if someone else had taken you? god help them. because seungmin would burn the whole city to ash to bring you back.

chang ♙ bin

the fight started in a flash. it always did with changbin. he wasn’t the kind to simmer — he burned hot, sharp words and loud voices, his way of coping with the fear that one day you might leave him before he lost you to his world.

but tonight… tonight hit different.

“i’m sick of you keeping me in the dark!” you shouted, eyes wet, standing in the middle of his office while his phone buzzed with missed calls, his men waiting outside the door.

you knew what he did — the deals, the bloodshed, the debts paid in bullets and silence. but you loved him anyway. and you were done pretending it didn’t eat you alive when he came home bruised and distant, when bodies dropped and he shut you out like you were some fragile thing he had to protect by destroying.

“i don’t need your permission to handle my business,” changbin snapped, pacing the room, fists clenched.

“i’m not asking for permission, bin. i’m asking for honesty. or am i just some convenient distraction you fuck when you need to feel like a person?”

the words landed harder than you meant. changbin froze, a muscle twitching in his jaw. his face twisted — part hurt, part fury.

“maybe you are.”

the silence was instant. a shattering, deafening kind. the kind where you realize you crossed a line you can’t uncross — and so did he. you blinked at him, breath catching. “say that again.”

his voice cracked, just barely. “if you’re gonna be this goddamn difficult, then get out. go. i don’t care.”

it was a lie. but you heard it like gospel. and this time… you left.

bag over your shoulder, keys in hand, you stormed out past his men who turned away, pretending not to notice the storm that had just rolled through. changbin didn’t chase you. didn’t call after you. his pride was too loud in his ears, drowning out the sound of his own heart breaking. the door slammed.

he threw a glass against the wall. shattered it. then another. swearing under his breath, chest heaving, tears he’d never admit to stinging the back of his throat.

“fuck.”

time passed in a blur. an hour. then two. then three.

at first, he thought you were cooling off. letting him stew in his guilt, like you always did when his temper got ahead of his heart. but when jisung showed up, pale and serious, changbin’s stomach dropped.

“she’s gone,” jisung said softly.

“what do you mean gone?”

“no one’s seen her. her apartment’s empty. phone’s off. her car’s still there. no sign of where she went.”

changbin’s blood went ice cold. he felt his chest cave in, a sharp ache he’d never felt even after getting shot or losing men in alleyway deals. nothing compared to this. his voice came low, deadly. “who did this?”

“we don’t know,” jisung admitted. “could be one of bangchan’s enemies. or maybe… maybe she left for good.”

that was worse. that was so much worse.

changbin clenched his jaw, hands shaking as he grabbed his gun and jacket. “put the word out. i want eyes everywhere. if anyone so much as breathed near her, i want their head.”

and in the quiet that followed, as his men scrambled, changbin sat back in his chair and let the weight of what he’d said crush him. he could handle betrayals. blood debts. rival families. he could even stomach the thought of dying in a back alley one night. but losing you? losing you because of his own reckless words?

he’d burn down the world if it meant bringing you home. even if you never wanted to see him again.

notes: that was a rollercoaster xD i got carried away writing after so long and ended up giving the anon’s request a mafia twist since i’ve been wanting to start my mafia series for months now but never got a chance :’) there’s not going to be a part 2 for this since anon wanted an angsty ending sooo i hope you guys enjoy this as it is xp thank you for reading ~

1K notes · View notes