a (incomplete) collection of voicemails on a phone that hasn’t been charged for over a year. // if i could have this entire thing in italics i would but i won’t. anyways, something a bit different imo. idk how i feel about it tho yikes warnings: implied reader death; please do not read if that will potentially put you in a bad mindset. ; alcohol wc:1.3k
[ 11:23am ]
“hey, y/n. it’s me. i know you probably won’t hear these-”
an exhaled breath of laughter.
“‘probably’? i know you won’t. you never used to check your voicemails, anyway, but- but now you really never will.”
+ pairing: hwang hyunjin x female reader + genre: angst, enemies to lovers, apocalypse!au + warnings: mentions of weapons, wounds, implied poor hygiene conditions, seungmin is sick, let me know if i am missing something + word count: 0.7k + requested as part of my Drabble Event #2 + summary: There is always a time when a tough choice has to be made. However, you didn’t expect to get help from the one who always disagreed with everything you said or did. + lia’s note: Hello, how are you? This piece is something I’d like to explore in the future somehow. It reminds me of ya dystopian which is the genre that made me fall in love with reading and only increased my love for writing. Please, like/reblog this if you enjoy reading it and let me know your thoughts through an ask if you feel like it! As always, happy reading!
The light that prickled through the windows wasn’t enough to light up the small space. The air smelled of gunpowder, sweat, and the last meal you all shared. No one dared to speak about the obvious, but the thought was in the air and hidden in the way you glanced at one another.
“We should talk about it,” you said, sitting on one of the wood boxes nearby, scratching the back of your neck. Everyone turned to look at you, wary of what you were about to say. “We need more supplies and food too. What we have won’t last us more than a few days. Besides,” you glanced at the opposite side of the room where someone laid on the cold floor, their breathing frail, “we need to find something to help him with the fever. There’s a couple of old pharmacies nearby, I’m sure we can…”
“You’re not possibly suggesting we go overground, are you?” You took a deep breath and glanced at him. He crossed his arms and shook his head. “It’s still not safe out there.”
“It will never be safe out there anymore, Hyunjin. Don’t you get that?” You stood up and wiped your hands on your dirty trousers. “The food we have might last us two more days, even if we eat only the essentials. Without any medication, Seungmin won’t survive much longer. And I know this place very well. It used to be my home.” You turned to face everyone else and gulped, your heartbeat increasing in your chest. “I… I’ll go.”
Murmurs erupted in the small crowd, but you knew none of them would volunteer to go instead of you. Still, even if you voted on who would go, you would probably be one of their choices.
“You won’t survive out there,” Hyunjin said. “You can’t aim a gun, you’re weak… how do you expect to carry food and supplies here on your own?”
Whether Hyunjin was mocking you, you couldn’t be entirely sure. The truth was, the two of you never got along very well, and often your values and opinions collided with one another. You didn’t understand how he could only think about himself. Even here, despite everything that was happening, he didn’t see the grand scheme of things. Still, you weren’t going to spend your energy arguing with him. It was no use.
“I’m not asking you to come with me. And if I don’t survive, there’s one less person to eat, right? That should make the food last a little longer for all of you…”
You moved past him and started to prepare your weapons to go to the surface. It wasn’t a task you were pleased about, but it had to be done. You picked up a few guns, feeling their weight on your hand before checking whether they had enough ammunition for you to carry.
After a while, Hyunjin joined you and, after glancing at the table in front of you, he extended a gun your way, not looking you in the eyes.
“This one’s better for you. It has less kickback and it works best with how you usually shoot and aim.” You glanced between the gun and his expression, biting your lower lip. When you didn’t accept the weapon, Hyunjin grabbed your arm and turned your palm upwards, placing the handle on your hand. “I don’t want you to die, Y/N.”
“I’m glad to know you still have consciousness,” you said sarcastically as you saved the gun in its pouch on your waist. You lifted your ways to look at him, serious and determined. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll go with you.” He bit his lower lip and ruffled his hair, fixing it right after. It was too long now, he needed a bandana to keep it away from his eyes. “You may know how to move around on the surface, but you still need someone to help you out. Besides, I can help you carry stuff and… keep you out of trouble. I’m sure Felix can keep order while we’re away.”
You weren’t sure if Hyunjin was worried about you, but you weren’t going to be stupid and deny his help. He was right, you needed someone’s help. And from everyone around, he was the one better qualified to go with you.
“Fine,” you said, looking him in the eyes. “But when it comes to locations, you follow my lead. When it comes to cover and safety, I’ll follow your lead. We have to trust each other if we want to survive.” You gulped, knowing that your next statement would be too honest for you to pretend you weren’t saying it out loud. “I want to survive, Hyunjin. With you.”
genre:angst au: noir au warnings: alcohol, implied drugs wordcount:1k pairing: f!reader x hwang hyunjin
Your long fur coat settles around you like a puddle of luxury as you take a seat at the counter. It’s slow tonight, with only a smattering of gentlemen flocking around the stage of the woman who sings in a voice made of honey. Cigar smoke wafts throughout the bar, intermingling with the distinct perfume of booze.
Your eyes wander to the expansive shelves behind the bar and take note of the expensive collection of bottles on the top shelf. The golden scotch interests you, but perhaps another time. Before you can call the dark-haired bartender over, he comes to you instead. With a silky smooth smile, he slides a shot of whiskey across to you. “On the house.”
Rule #1 of The Apothecary: Do not drink anything you did not ask for.
You push it back with your index finger. “I’m more of a gin person myself. Clover Club with a shot of oxy, please.”
“Coming right up.”
While he busies himself with your order, you do your best to keep an impassive expression on your face. However, the cleverly hidden door in the far back of the buildings distracts you. Forget the drinks, people only come to The Apothecary for one reason. You keep one hand on the inside pocket of your coat, feeling for the carefully folded bills inside. They are all accounted for; you know that even through the lining.
You listen to the jazz singer croon into the microphone for another minute, watching the men as they talk amongst themselves, raise glasses of bourbon to their lips, wolf whistle when they spot you lounging in the dark. The lipsticked smile you flash sends them into howls.
The bartender sets down your cocktail in front of you. In a low voice, he says, “He’s ready for you.”
The door is now ajar, weak light filtering through the crack, beckoning you to come in. Taking your drink, you make your way inside. A young man with blond hair sits behind a mahogany desk in a chair made of crimson velvet. Just the sight of him makes your heart pound. Saint Valentine in all of his glory.
“Hey there, dollface,” he says. Then he taps the wooden tray on the desk.
Rule #2 of The Apothecary: Always bring an offering.
You place down your pink cocktail, taking special care to not disturb the line of white foam on top. Then you take out the money and set that on the other end of the tray. “Clover Club,” you inform him as you sit opposite of him, “and the usual.”
He sips on the drink, making a sour face when he tastes the sweetness. “Gin rickeys are much better than this. Dark or light this time? Or both?”
“Both.”
He procures two glass vials from a desk drawer, and you accept them. One vial is filled with a clear, almost iridescent, liquid, and the other is a deep amber tone.
Rule #3 of The Apothecary: Ensure what you are being served is what you requested.
You uncap the light vial and allow yourself a mere drop of the potion. A warmth spreads through you, and an enchanted serenity falls over you. You feel the ghost of your mother’s arms around your shoulders, the dizzying laugh of your best friend, the rhythm of Saint Valentine’s lilting words. For a moment, you are euphoric, dancing atop of heaven’s clouds with Aphrodite smiling upon you.
Then it all disappears.
Without thinking, you clasp your hand over your heart, almost gasping when you find yourself back in the bar. Everything is dull in comparison to what you just experienced. Disappointment and anguish coat you like tar, and your mouth waters for another drop. However, you tamp your desires down and grab your sleeve for an earthly anchor. Saint Valentine sinks into his chair when he notes that you have come down from your high. He nods to the dark vial, and you roll it into your palm.
You pop off the cap before holding it out to him. “Will there ever be a day where you try it instead of me?”
“You know I don’t dabble in my own goods. It’s bad for business.”
“Of course.”
You take a tiny sip. Saint Valentine clouds your thoughts—his midnight eyes, his marble cheeks, his Cupid’s bow. The droll voice he uses when he speaks to you. That perfectly delectable, plump lower lip of his. He is so close. If you stand up and lean across, he would be yours, and you would be his. You want—no, need—to kiss him.
“I…” you breathe, gripping the edge of the desk for support, “I… love—”
You snap out of the spell, a hot blush creeping up your face as you realize how near you are to him. Even after the effects of the drink have worn off, your passion for him still lingers. One accidental move could mean that you would be touching him. However, you fall back into your seat, trying to appear less flustered. He stares back with a faint smirk playing on his lips. You watch them when he asks, “All to your liking?”
In a desperate attempt to regain composure, you give him a cold look that melts as soon as you notice the bob of his throat when he tries the cocktail again. “They’re perfect. As always.” You stand up and smooth your coat. “I’ll see you next week.”
Saint Valentine slowly blinks at you and devilishly smiles, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. “Send my regards to the gentleman you seduce next. God only knows how hurt he’ll be when he discovers what your true intentions are. It might even kill him.”
“See you next week,” you repeat.
You stalk out of the room and then out of the bar. The bartender says something to you as you stroll past, but you cannot hear him over the applause from the stage and the rush of wind as you push open the door. You make it down one block before fumbling for the light vial and consuming all of its contents.
This time you only feel Saint Valentine, only him.
psst if you want a fluffy, valentine’s day story with hyunjin:candy hearts
Street Racer!Hyunjin pulled you into a hot, steamy kiss when he saw your ex, Street Racer!Jeno, staring at you. He bit your lip and you gasped. He took this as an opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, both your tongues fighting for dominance.
He grabbed onto your hips and lifted you onto the hood of his black classic 1964 mustang. He opened his eyes and smirked when he saw Jeno walking away with his head down. He pulled away but not before placing a few last kisses on your lips.
“What was that for?” You asked. Your lips swollen, leaving you kinda flustered.
Hyunjin smirked, combing his finger through your hair. “Nothing,” he said before pulling you into another kiss. “I just love you a lot.”
y'all remember when my writing used to be chef kiss?
Genre: fluff, neighbors au, enemies to lovers (kind of)
Summary: Your mom doesn’t know how to stop playing matchmaker, but all you really want is to find something that feels like home.
Word Count: 7.5k
Warnings: Reader has anxiety, mentions of past abuse, mention of drinking (reader is of age), reader’s mom is too involved in reader’s love life
A/N: A little birthday gift for Hyunjin. It’s not my best work, but I really enjoy it and hopefully you all will too
This fanfiction and header are property of @/hobi-is-golden. reposting on any platform without explicit permission is prohibited
Summer break; A solace like none other. As much as you loved your major, and all of the friends you’d made while away at college, you always yearned to return home. You were close with your family, and you always loved seeing your friends again. You were a sentimental person, finding things that touched you deeply and holding onto them like they were treasures to be collected and admired.
There was something about being in your own city, the safety within those four walls of your childhood home. Nothing compared. That feeling in the pit of your stomach and the deepest depths of your chest when you were home was something that you sought out everywhere you went, in every person you met. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find it. So at the end of the day, it felt good returning home.
You were giddy when you pulled up to your house, turning off your car and deciding to gather as many of your bags as possible in one trip. Not fumbling and dropping your keys was going to be difficult, managing to unlock the door would probably be even more difficult. Your parents knew you were coming home, but your mom had a habit of forgetting to unlock the door, and of losing track of time, so you’d be more surprised if the door had already been unlocked for you.
You cursed under your breath as one of your bags slipped from your fingers, followed by your keys clattering to the pavement. You heaved a sigh, crouching down to pick them up again. After a moment of digging through the bag, you found that you were less frustrated with your clumsiness and more grateful that nothing fragile had been in the bag you’d dropped.
This was, you reluctantly admitted out loud and to nobody in particular, your own fault. You’d packed all your things to bring in one go instead of shipping some of it ahead. Not to mention your stubborn personality that was insisting you only make one trip.
“Hey, need a hand?” A voice asked from behind you. It sounded far enough away to reassure you that you weren’t about to be kidnapped before you could look your captor in the eye. You spun around to confront the owner of the voice, miraculously managing to keep a hold of everything that you’d precariously balanced in your arms.
“I’m fine. Um, thanks though.” You let out a nervous laugh. The guy that stood at the end of your drive was disarmingly handsome; dark hair framing his face – a very pretty face at that – and his lips were curled into a wide smile. His lips looked soft, and smooth, and plump enough that you almost considered being jealous.
“Are you sure? I can unlock the door or something.” He moved closer, and as he walked you noticed his lithe figure. He carried himself with grace and power, a strange mix that simply screamed ‘look at me’. So you did.
Yeah, definitely handsome.
“No, it’s okay. I got it all into the car. Getting it out is just…” You put the bags you were holding on the ground, pulling out another from the trunk. “Not as easy as expected.”
He laughed, a musical giggle that coaxed a smile onto your face. He picked up the bags off the ground and took your keys from your hand. You protested, but he was already walking away from you towards the front door.
“I’m Hyunjin, by the way.” He told you as you hurried to grab the rest of your things and slammed the trunk shut. You caught up with a bit of effort as he was unlocking the door and opening it for you. “Your parents said you were coming home this week.”
“You know my parents?” You asked, stepping inside and putting your bags down. You flexed your wrists afterwards. Damn, what did you even pack that was that heavy?
“Yeah,” He put the last couple of bags down with the others, then closed the door behind the two of you. For a moment you were struck by the fact that you had just allowed a strange man into your house. But he’d been nothing but kind, if a little overzealous. “I moved in next door with my friend. Your parents sort of took us in. They’re really great.”
It was dark. The night sky spread above the roofs of the city, which was only illuminated by a few torches. The Milky Way spread out above you, split into thousands of small lights. The firmament always had a calming effect on you, so standing on your balcony and gazing up at the sky had become an evening ritual of yours. A slight smile graced your lips as you pulled the blanket around your shoulders a little tighter to get away from the cool wind.
He was almost silent as he climbed the balcony behind you, his fabric slippers touching the stone floor. It was only a slight rustling and scratching sound, which made you pay attention but did not make you turn around. You knew exactly who had joined you there and it only took a few seconds before you felt his presence next to you and he settled down on the cool ground as well.
pairing: guitarist hyunjin x fem reader cw: mentions of food, alcohol, reader wears makeup and a skirt, suggestive, allusions to sex, explicit language wc: 7.2k summary: you and your best friend go see your favorite band. what you didn’t expect, was to get to meet some of the band members, let alone spend time with them. (skz being a band is hardly relevant in this sadly, but let’s go with it lol). a/n: this was inspired by maniac tour hyunjin, specifically 220430. it was also inspired by maniac era styling in general + their performances from this tour (watching them perform lonely st. in particular gives me rockstar vibes). the tour starting back up again inspired me to finally finish it. however, stray kids do not exist here; they are all in a different band where they play the instruments (though only hyunjin & jisung are mentioned). i also offer you this clip of hyunjin from yesterday / last night bc he looked so good.
