warnings: fluff , photo made by me! , not proofread , lowercase intended , please lmk if i missed anything
a/n: this is a really short one but iâve been wanting to make one of these for aaages lmao. as always, likes & reblogs are always appreciated and feel free to lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist! enjoy :)
bf!riki who, although he acts all mysterious and nonchalant, behind closed doors heâs the softest soul youâve ever met. heâll get back from a long day of practice immediately melt into your touch; whether thatâs hugging you from behind while you make dinner for the two of you, resting his hand on your lower back or shoulder while you fold laundry, or even just lay you down on the couch with him and bury his face into the crook of your neck. he loves the affection, he really does , however itâs just not something he usually initiates.
bf!riki whoâs always texting you while youâre out. itâs not in a controlling way though, he genuinely just wants to make sure youâre okay. he knows the dangers of letting you go out with you friends wearing a short dress and heels, but although heâd love it he canât just lock you up and keep you all to himself forever. heâll text you every twenty minutes to make sure youâre still conscious, and heâll call you if you donât respond. when you answer his call and he hears you slurring over your words, he grabs his keys and drives straight to come get you. âjust wait there, baby, iâll be there soon okay? donât leave without me.â
bf!riki who gets jealous way too easily. you remember once you went to a party with him a couple weeks before prom in 12th grade. you were stood with your friends, Jess and Gabby, when some guy approached you and asked if you had a date to prom. you told him yes and laughed nervously as he reached out to grab your waist. after realising he was drunk, your eyes hurriedly scanned the crowded room in desperate search for Riki. before you found him, he found you. he grabbed the guy by his collar and sent him flying backwards into the wall. âhey!â he growled through gritted teeth. âsheâs got a boyfriend, asshole.â the guy he was holding up against the wall was visibly shaking and you almost felt bad. however, you knew Riki wasnât going to let this slide.
bf!riki who always knows when thereâs something wrong even if you donât say a word. you could just be sitting on the couch, your knees pulled up to your chest, while watching a movie and heâd know like he has a sixth sense. he wouldnât say anything though; heâd just sit next to you and pull you into his lap, one hand cradling the back of your head and one resting on your hip.
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I think I'm writing part 2 tomorrow (dont hold it against me), so keep an eye out. I'm not sure if it'll be posted the same day or not!
I am currently going through a delayed ao3 authors curse rn, so I'm not sure if my schedule is consistent, but I have the next 5 chapters (somewhat) planned out!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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sorry to bother, but maaaaybe you might wanna proofread pt.1 of the story with hyunjin's sketchbook?đđ»đđ» cause lovely plot, but in the very beginning it jumps from "you" to "me" pronouns to smth else? otherwise, hooked me up, waiting for pt.2!!
tysmmmm it's my first foc i did have someone read over it but I'm lowk like chopped at consistency but TYYYY â€ïžâ€ïž
thinking about idol!jeongin interested in idol!reader who's his junior. . .
this was supposed to be a normal interaction between coworkers.
just a senior idolâgod, it feels weird calling himself that, but it is factualâmeeting his company's newly debuted junior from a girl group.
he'd heard a few whispers and muffled talks from the handful of cycling makeup artists and stylists that she was definitely talented, a shining diamond finally escaping the clutches of being a trainee.
but with you, nervous and starry-eyed, bowing deeply as he shook your hand and reciprocated, he couldn't help but think about how pretty you were.
you were merely supposed to be shooting a few tiktok's with him, promoting his group's new comeback while simultaneously promoting your debut album.
just a few silly dances and videos of you both lip-syncing song lyrics.
but o-ho-ho, it was not just a few silly dances.
there was more. in between the videos, if anyone was observant enough, they'd notice jeongin looking at her in the first few seconds of the video before the dance had started. they'd notice how he didn't mind getting touched by her, when she hesitantly patted his shoulder at the end of the tiktok dance, his hand covering yours enthusiastically.
and every time you messed up, or when he did, he'd laugh it off, make a silly joke to lighten the mood, smiling as he tried to observe how lively you were when you smiled.
he wanted to see more of it.
by the end of it all, you thanked him again once more, your faux confidence shown in the videos dropping, revealing your more reserved self, a little more self aware of everything, of him.
he noticed it. you didn't have the strength to hold eye contact with him for more than a few seconds, looking down immediately at anything else but his gaze.
"i- uhm, thank you, jeongin-sunbaenim." you bow once more, "it was great meeting you."
"it was a great experience meeting you as well," your name feels like honey on his tongue as he says it. you try and suppress the smile that comes from it.
he notices.
jeongin liked it. seeing you nervous. squirming.
he wanted to see more of it.
"can i get your number?" he asked, his reason for asking was to check up on you, flashing his fox-like grin, faux sincerity.
and you, who didn't know any betterâand was still an extremely closeted fangirlâhad practically smiled ear to ear, handing him your number with wide-eyed joy.
the events after that were smooth. with your days becoming a little bit sweeter when jeongin had randomly decided to pop up in your notifications, giving you positive messages, even as far as sending a picture of himself smiling with cheery text.
not wanting to leave your seniorâand your crushâhigh and dry from a simple heart react at his message, you send back a photo.
unbeknownst to you, every time you reply, he can't help but smirk.
whenever he sent a vague message, one that would teeter the line of merely being a concerned senior idol to something more dangerous, how would you react?
he could imagine the sharp intake of your breath, suddenly flustered as you blink away the sudden inappropriate thoughts and reply back after he saw you typing for 3 minutes, merely saying 'thank you, sunbae!'.
it wasn't enough for him.
he needed you. to see you. to touch you. to watch you get nervous.
and somehow? all of those things happened. not suddenlyâthey were subtle, all through the span of both your promotion events. things you couldn't ever calculate as having ulterior motive.
a sudden handshake he gives at an awards show that you don't notice lingers for a moment longer than the ones he gives your members.
his foxlike gaze purposefully looking at your group members first before looking at you, then staring wistfully at you, yourself blissfully unaware.
walking past each other as he suddenly whispers something teasing in your ear, low and hushed. okay, wellâthat last one made you a little suspicious, more so flustered than anything. your red ears were enough proof.
at fashion events where both your groups had been personally invited to attend, he'd somehow find a way to detach himself from his group, finding you as he sidled up next to you.
he would always talk slow and relaxed, like he had all the time in the world when he conversed with you. in return, you replied in stark contrast, your answers shy and rushed.
maybe it was because of his gaze was the reason you couldn't help but be shy. he'd always, always look down at you with those eyes.
you didn't even notice how close he had shuffled next to you until you felt the fabric of his suit brush against your bare shoulder, the sudden contact making you involuntarily shiver.
"you okay?" he'd ask, his face and tone unreadable as he gave you a small cheshire-like smirk. you couldn't say anything that wouldn't seem silly, so you simply nodded and tiny smile, trying your best to compose yourself.
it felt weird. maybe you were overthinking things.
the texts of his having an odd undertone you couldn't quite place your finger on, his sudden aversion to touchingâthis one really threw you in for a loop, being a retired fan and allâdissipating whenever he socialized with you, and only you.
but that was just him being comfortable with you? right? right?
social media made your suspicions worse.
user1: don't mean to sound parasocial but is jeongin getting real touchy with y/n? i ain't never seen him act like this be4 đ„
user2: i.n is literally known for not liking skinship and physical touch unless its his members (occasionally), but all of a sudden, he's getting all close and personal with y/n at the FENDI fashion event?
âȘ user3: he wants that cookie BADDD
user4: he defo is interested in y/n, it's my first time seeing him interact w a female idol this actively AND enthusiasticallyđ
user5: cannot deny the jeongy/n shippers bc wdym jeongin whispers something to her when their groups passed by each other and y/n was all blushy???
you decided taking a break from social mediaâand socializing with your seniorsâin general was the healthiest option. just a small one-week break. a detox, if you will.
you didn't tell anyone but your fans on weverse.
unfortunately, that left jeongin unceremoniously in the darkâmessages and photos left on delivered.
you suppose that's why the events that happened had led up to what was happening now.
the adrenaline of performing was still in your veins as you and your members walked off stage, cheering each other on as you nod and greet the next performers as you guys finally get back to your groups' room.
wanting some time alone with yourself to calm down, you excuse yourself to your group's leader, lying about needing to go to the bathroom.
strolling through the long hallways, you found yourself alone as you try to find a quiet place to rest your mind.
but you suppose life decided there was betterâor worse, depending on how you think of itâthings for you to experience.
because as you were innocently walking, your arm gets grabbed, pulling you into an unfamiliar room.
assessing the location and random merch they had laying strewn about the room; you quickly piece together that it was Stray Kids' designated room.
looking at the culprit who had pulled you by your arm, you look up wide-eyed.
"oh- jeongin sunbae. . .?"
"did i do something wrong?"
you blinked in confusion.
what is happening?
jeongin's hands hesitantly drag its way to your forearm, "if i did, please tell me."
"i- what? sunbae, what are you talking about? you did nothing wrong." your heart catches in your throat when his hands slide up your arm, slow and steady.
"you ghosted me."
"oh! that? no, sunbae. . . i was on a social media break."
"is that so?" you hum out a 'yes' to his question. "mmm, good."
before you could process it, your head was laying on his chest, his arms caging you in as he rested his head on your shoulder.
"thank god. . ." he muffled into your hair, your body tensing as you suddenly felt him slightly nuzzle in the expanse of your neck.
"jeongin sunbae?"
"i thought you were mad at me."
"mad? at you? i could never be mad at you, sunbae." you blurt out.
pulling away from the comfort of your neck, you look up to face jeongin's gaze.
he still hasn't let go of you, his arms still encasing you close to him.
"really?" he repeated, before you see his eyes dot down below your eyes, then back at you. "never?"
you were unsure of what to say, so nonverbally, you nod.
"don't say i didn't ask you first, y/n."
his hand traveled up to your cheek, before cradling it as he leaned in. he didn't go fully into you, nudging your nose. sensing no negative reactionâand seeing you instinctively lean in slightly as wellâhe then went in for the kill.
you tasted sweet. tangy. like your makeup artist had applied a flavored lip product on you. it didn't matter though; you'd have to ask them to reapply it again after he was done with you.
jeongin went slow, unhurried as he gauged your reaction, before deepening the kiss as he turned your head. you gasped at the sudden change, the boy using it to slip his tongue into your mouth a little.
both of your hands had started wandering. no heavy petting or groping, just hands fisting clothes tightly and hair grabbing.
your hand stayed tangled on the nape of his hair as he kissed your jaw, making a broken line of wet kisses all the way to your collarbone, before giving it a sudden suck.
"you really are fascinating to me." he mumbled out as he pulled away, looking at the beautiful mess he had created of you.
"jeongin sunbae-"
"just jeongin, please." he merely asked, before tucking a stray hair away from your face.
you nodded, your grin wide and joyous. he grinned back, the intimate moment now turned neutral and wholesome.
all of a sudden, your phone rang.
picking it up, nodding a little as apology to jeongin, he merely smiles back at you.
"y/n-ah, where the HELL are you?" your manager yells through the call, your panic instincts kicking in as you forgot you were only supposed to be gone for a moment.
motioning that you needed to go, the dark-haired boy let you go, only waving goodbye at you, before motioning for you to call.
closing the door and walking through the hallway as you mutter apologies and excuses to your manager, you turn sharply through a corridor and nearly bump into someone.
it was hyunjin. quickly recognizing him, you apologize quickly, the long-haired man merely waving you off as he observed your current frazzled state.
messy hair, scrunched up clothes, no more gloss on your lips.
he chalked it up to you being rushed after performance, so giving you one last goodbye, he walks back to his groups' designated room.
then he sees jeongin. in exactly the same state you were in. except he had lip gloss all over the expanse of his lips, a little smeared.
"oh, hyung. you're here?" the maknae nonchalantly called out, scrolling on his phone.
hyunjin smirked, before sitting next to him on the couch, "yeah, the others are still getting their food. you were alone this whole time?"
"yeah." was jeongin's only answer, his hyung observing every bit of microexpression.
"m'kay. whatever you say." hyunjin smiled.
either way if it was a mere coincidence or something he caught, he was definitely going to tell the others.
ack i miss writing for jeongin so bad. . . gotta get back into the groove ykyk
ââââââ y/n has been playing genshin with âChrisâ whom she met one day on the game. Theyâve been voice chatting and playing together everyday. Sheâs an open book but chris.. she doesnt actually know anything about him.
sc: 12 + written part !! from suvvra guys tysm for the love on this series, ur all so sweet. Sorry this part took so long I've been really busy and the next part might take longer too cause of that. And sorry for any mistakes in the written part, English isn't my first language!
Youâre sitting with Jen, at her apartment infront of the mirror. Both in your outfits and finishing up your makeup and hair.
âYouâre really texting your mystery man before a stray kids concert?â She asks you while finishing her curls
âHeâs not my mystery manâ you mumble
While putting the curling iron down she glances at you- serious. âBaby, whatâs his last name?â
âItâs not important-â she cuts you off
âWhere does he live?â You groan âJen-â you get cut off again
âYou donât even know what he doesâ
You point a makeup brush at her
âHe works.â
She scoffs and goes back to looking in the mirror âmhm that narrows it downâ
At the venue - in line
Your phone vibrates in your pocket. A text from Chris. Heâs been checking up on you a lot, itâs weird. Not like his usual self.
Jen peeks over at your phone and rolls her eyes âoh my god not Chris again, just have fun!â
âHe keeps texting me, itâs weirdâ you tell her.
She shrugs her shoulders âheâs always been weird, I told you from the start.â
You sigh, putting your phone back in your pocket and move forward with the line. You canât get it out of your head. His texts are so unusual for him.. âlong line?â, âdonât use all ur money hahaâ, âI hope you get the best viewâ.
You frown, looking at Jen âmaybe heâs just being sweet?â
âOr a stalkerâ she crosses her arms. Stopping the conversation about him.
â
After long hours of waiting, youâve both finally made it to your places right at barricade.
âUgh, whatâs with him? He hasnât texted me back for so long nowâ you check you and Chrisâ chats.
Jen groans dramatically, snatching your phone and shoving it into her pocket âforget him! Just have fun. I told you! Heâs busyâ
â
The concert starts, and of course youâre having the time of your lives.
When it ends youâre both squealing with excitement, exiting the venue. Jumping excitedly, you hold her hand as you both head out
âIt was so fun! I swear they looked over multiple times they got so close to us!â
Jen chuckles, holding your hand as you vibrate with excitement âthey definitly looked over a lot. Guess they just know pretty girls when they see themâ she pokes ur arm and you squeak and chuckle.
â
Back at Jenâs apartment, which was only a forty minute drive from the venue. The second you step inside you both collapse onto the bed, exhausted but buzzing with excitement.
âI swear chan kept looking at us during maniac!â You laugh
âYeah, at your pretty face. I would tooâ she says back and you nudge her shoulder, rolling your eyes.
Your phone chimes. A message from Chris.
Chris: âHope you enjoyed your concert. Just got off work. It was a long day, but worth it :)â
Attached is a blurry photo
You frown, zooming in to see it properly. It isnât a desk, or an office.. it looks like a hallway. Black curtains, cables running across the floor and multiple water bottles.
âWhat is this?â You mumble. Jen leans over immediately to look. âLet me see.â
You hand her the phone and she stares at it for a few seconds before her expression slowly changes.
âY/N..â
âWhat?â
âThis isnât just any ordinary workplaceâ
âIt could beâ
She zooms in
âNo no cmon look.. this is definitly backstage at a concert! Iâve seen a ton of videoes of idols backstage this is exactly it!!â She sits up excitedly
You sigh âBut that would be weird.. who could he even be..?â
âIsnât Chans name also Chris..? Maybe this is why he never said anything about himself!!â
âJen thatâs a stupid idea it couldnât beâŠâ you take your phone back, doubting your own words.
You look back at the photo. The time he sent it.. what he said.. when he stopped texting⊠it all does add up.. but no it couldnât be, could it?
Summary: After picking up the wrong notebook you find Hyunjin's been sketching you. The problem? You and him have never even spoken to each other.
warnings: erm nothing much i think if future parts are posted there may be smut?
đđđđ 2
a/n: this is my first fic in a hot while please be nice!!!!!
The art studio was unusually quiet.
Only the scratching of pencils on the (quite frankly) worn paper and the occasional shuffle of paper filled the room as everyone worked on their respective assignments. Sunlight streaming through the tall windows, painting everything in gold.
You sat in your usual seat.
And unfortunately, so did hyunjin.
Not that he was unpleasant but he hadnât made the effort to talk to you or even interact with you.
For nearly 3 months, youâd been seatmates in professor Kimâs art class. Three months of sharing supplies when someone forgot theirs, silently passing reference sheets down the row, and occasionally muttering âsorryâ when you accidentally brushed each other.
That was pretty much the extent of how much you interacted.
He kept to himself.
And to be honest, so did you.
You weren't even sure if he had ever even said your name throughout the time you had known each other , nevertheless knew your name at all.
âAlright everyoneâ Professor Kim announced to the room âWeâll continue critiques next class. Leave your work out to dry, you can pick it up during your free period later.â
The room erupted in movement.
Students packed their bags, books, sheets, supplies and rushed for the door. Urgent to get to their next lecture.
You gathered your things quickly. You too had another lecture in 5 minutes and it would be a miracle if you even had time to use the bathroom.
Without paying attention, you grabbed your sketchbook from the corner of the table and shoved it in your bag.
Or at least what you thought was your sketchbook.
It wasn't until later that evening that you had noticed.
Sprawled across your dorm bed, ready to finish my project, something just felt off.
The cover was identical, same pristine sheen- managing to avoid the hells of ink staining.
Same worn corners.
Same spiral binding.
But when you opened it?
The first page wasn't yours.
Your stomach dropped.
âOh my god.â
It was hyunjins.
You immediately sat up. You should probably text someone. And it's not as if hyunjin isn't a popular guy- heâs well known for his good looks, confidence and his outgoing nature, when it comes to you?
It's like talking to a brick wall.
Returning it tomorrow would be your best bet. You should just close it and not look. Absolutely do not look at all.
That lasted about all of three seconds as the next page flips open, from the gentle breeze from the open window. Look it may seem ironic and cliche but dorms are humid and muggy and if the windows are not open? It's the reincarnation of hell.
And what you see makes your hair rise and your breath freeze.
A portrait.
It couldn't even be counted as a sketch considering it was detailed enough to be considered a photograph- had hyunjin been taking up photography too? How much did I not know about him?
Yet as you stare in disbelief it clicks to you.Â
The picture was of a girl in the studio framed by the huge window, looking out into the scenery, her hair covering her face making her unknown. But to me?
You know that girl, it's your bag. And your hoodie. It was you sitting with my head resting on your palm.
Slowly, you turned the page.Â
Another sketch. You. standing outside the arts building, coffee cup still steaming and in your hand.
Another of you laughing at something the classmate who sits in front of you said- hiding your smile in the hem of your hoodie.
Another.
Another.
Another.
Every single image was you.
Some were rough and unrefined but still detailed enough to know it was you.
Some were partially complete, with areas smudged, as if had, someone looked over he would've been caught red handed.
Some were so detailed you could see every stray hair and the freckles that lightly dusted your ears? Who looks at ears anyways?
The dates in the corner went back weeks, months. Specifically 3 months ago.
There must have been more than 30 sketches.
These weren't the sketches of someone quickly finding a muse but intentionally like each stroke of the pencil was to memorise the subjects face in terrifying detail.
Flipping to the last page your heart drops, and coincidentally so does the sketchbook.Â
And what stares back at you is an image dated for today.
You are sitting beside him in class, headband over your assignment .
Completely unaware.Â
At the bottom corner, in the smallest handwriting ever seen was a note.
Cant stop drawing her
A knock sounded against your dorm door.
You jumped.
Then, your phone buzzed as if sensing your crisis.
0788*******-- hyunjin:
I think you accidentally took my sketchbook.
Another message appeared almost instantly.
0788*******-- hyunjin:
And I have yours.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared. They reappeared again.
Then-Â
0788*******-- hyunjin:
Please don't open it.
You stared at the message then the sketchbook then the message again.Â
It was already too late
A minute later another message pops up.
0788*******-- hyunjin:
Thinking about how long it has been, I think you already have.
ââââââ y/n has been playing genshin with âChrisâ whom she met one day on the game. Theyâve been voice chatting and playing together everyday. Sheâs an open book but chris.. she doesnt actually know anything about him.
sc: 14 !! from suvvra tysm for all the love on my other two posts itâs so sweet and Iâll try to make it more interesting and longer in the next part but my imagination needs some work đ
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Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
âż Summary: your reaction to the comeback announcement
âż Pairing: hyung line x reader (individual)
âż ss count: 15
âż Tags/Warnings: suggestive! MDNI, playful threats, mainly just a LOT of thirsting over your bf <333
âż Authorâs note: once again, thank yâall sm for 500 followers (â: today was a busy day, but I still wanted to post something before it ended. Iâve got some full written fics in my drafts coming soon tho!!!
summary: youâre in a fake relationship with Hyunjin, but no one else knows itâs all a show
a/n: hiya! How are yall doing? I kinda had this random idea sitting in my head and needed to get it out lol. Itâs just a little something in between before weâre getting to a probably long awaited project, some of yall asked for it..
The flashlights of the paparazzis cameras were almost making you blind. You should get used to it, you always were drawing in their attention the most when you were out with the others. Hyunjins hand on your lower back always felt extra heavy in moments like these.
âYou think now is the time?â, he whispered, hunched over so he could be close to your ear.
You nodded, management had told you to do it.
Deep breath.
A grin on your lips.
And you held your left hand up, big and shining ring glistening brightly in the sun. There was a roar in the audience, you saw Stays swooning in the corner of your eyes.
âWe got themâ, Hyunjin grinned.
To the outside, it just looked like he was holding you, whispering something sweet. Just like you wanted. He took your other hand in his, lacing your fingers and the camera lights flashed up again.
Chris was the last of the group, standing behind the two of you, hurrying you inside the building to get rid of all the people.
âAlright lovebirds, come onâ.
When the door closed behind you, you felt a lot more at ease. Paparazzi and fans somehow were not as easy to fool than the other band members. You didnât know why the management wouldnât let you tell them that the relationship Hyunjin and you had was fake - all of it - but they seemed to not notice it in the slightest anyway. This was going on for so long now, the two of you were in your fake relationship for years.
The others loved you dearly, welcomed you in their group as part of their little family and you really adored them as well.
It wasnât like Hyunjin and you hadnât feelings for each other. You cared about him and you knew that was mutual. But it was more like a very deep friendship, not love.
Still, you were both very good at faking it.
âLet me see, I havenât had a look at it yetâ, Felix said, taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his face to see the ring properly.
It was a big stone in the middle, little diamonds circling it to make it look like a flower.
âDamn, Hyung itâs really prettyâ, he nodded in approval, âBet he got down to one knee and all, huh?â.
âOh, I can imagine Jinnie being so romantic, taking her out on a date-â, Changbin chimed in, earning an elbow to his side.
âDonât be so nosyâ, Hyunjin groaned, scrunching up his face when he saw your grin, âDonât tell them anything, my love, they donât deserve to hear itâ.
You shook your head while your grin spreaded, pulling your hand away to wrap it around Hyunjins arm.
âDonât be mad, baby, theyâre all just happy for usâ.
Your gaze fell on Jisung, who was the only one who didnât seem as content about your âengagementâ as the others. It wasnât obvious, he still was smiling, but the desperate way he looked at you said enough.
He was smitten, you knew Jisung liked you. And you liked him too, very much so. The situation was very complicated though.
You knew it was wrong to keep the fact that all of it was fake a secret, but you didnât have the courage to tell him after everything that already had happened - plus, you werenât allowed to.
Hyunjin knew of your so called affair, you told him everything. And well, he encouraged it. He was bold enough to make Jisung jealous from time to time, because it would make him even more needy for you.
It was normal for him to give you nicknames even when youâre alone or only you could hear it. You didnât mind, you gave him pet names in private too - made everything feel more casual in public.
âA mess, pleaseâ.
He chuckled, lips slowly grazing your jaw.
âLet me handle it, thank me laterâ, he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
Then, he let his hand sneak around you, splaying out on your stomach. You knew what he was going for and you decided to play along with it, covering his hand with yours.
âCanât wait to try for a baby nextâ, he said, a bit louder this time, shit eating from on his lips.
âYouâre planning to have one?â, Jeongin asked.
âWouldnât a baby Jinnie be cute?â, you joked, watching how Jisung crumbled in his spot, âGonna be the new maknae, itâs coming for your jobâ.
âGonna be the most dramatic baby everâ, Felix grinned, teasing his hyung with it.
You couldnât pry your eyes off Jisung anymore, his gaze flickered in between your stomach and your face, a pout formed on his mouth - probably without him even noticing.
âJi, can you drive me home? Youâre not doing practice today, right?â, you asked, very well aware of all of their schedules.
âUhmm, no, I mean- Yeah, if you want to. Just gotta head to the studio laterâ, he answered, standing up too fast to be nonchalant about your question.
Hyunjin grinned, but you were the only person who understood the reason.
âSee you in the eveningâ, he cooed while coming closer, leaning down to you, âMiss you alreadyâ.
His hand cupped your jaw gently as he captured your lips in a deep but quick kiss.
It was just right - intense enough for a young lovey dovey couple, quick enough for a goodbye kiss - and it made Jisung almost lose it.
You knew watching you two kiss made him wish he was the one doing it - that he would be the one kissing you as a good morning and good night, doing it whenever your ways parted.
âDonât be lateâ, you said with a smile, stretching your body up to give him another chaste kiss.
Jisung and you left through the back door, he had his hat pulled down deep into his face, you did the same with the hood of your sweater.
Your heart was fluttering when his fingers searched for yours in the intimacy of the shadows, but giving in and grabbing your whole hand right in front of the car.
He sighed, words resting heavily on his tongue, but he didnât dare to say something.
âWhatâs wrong, Ji?â, you asked, a slight smirk on your lips.
âI didnât know you wanted to marry him-â, he whispered, eyes lowered.
Jisung didnât dare to look at your pink hue of embarrassment spreading across his face.
âIt doesnât change anything between usâ, you said calmly, âI still want youâ.
That was the moment when he looked at you again, big round eyes lighting up at your words, he leaned against the car as if he lost the ability to stand on his own.
âYou do? But- I-â.
âOf course I doâ, your hand came up to caress his face.
He immediately melted into your touch, his other hand pulling you closer by your waist. Another sigh came out of his mouth.
âI want you too, but Hyunjin- this is wrong, youâre engaged and heâs my friendâ.
Jisung sometimes had these thoughts, some doubts. And honestly, you could understand him. You sometimes felt bad about the way you were treating him, but it got easier over time to ignore the voice of reason.
âWhat if I tell you that I want you to take me in that car? What if I tell you that you can fuck me better than he does?â, you leaned in, your lips grazing the outline of his jaw.
âHoly shit- donât-â, he had to clear his throat, âDonât say thatâ.
You pressed yourself against him, angling your leg to move it along his crotch.
âI can feel you getting hardâ, you chuckled.
âYouâre so unfairâ, he whined, hands scrambling to open the door beside him, âGet insideâ.
You both got into the backseat - luckily the parking lot behind the entertainment building was dark and only accessible for staff members. Plus, you couldnât peek into the cars windows from the outside. Jisung locked it with his key, trapping your form underneath his body.
He pulled his cap off, lowering himself on top of you gently.
âYou still like it when Iâm unfair, donât you?â, you grinned, holding his face in your hands.
âUnfortunately-â, he sighed, leaning in to kiss your jaw, âBegging me to fuck you in the car- as if I could deny thatâ.
His lips wandered down to your throat, leaving open mouthed kisses on his way down, temporarily sucking on the skin in the crook of your neck. He knew he wasnât allowed to leave marks, but he liked to tease you with it.
âI wasnât beggingâ, you gasped, arching into him when he bit you there for a second.
âDo you want me to make you beg?â, Jisung huffed, you felt his grin against your skin.
His hands came up to unbutton your blouse while you pushed his oversized shirt up to signal him to take it off.
âYou can give it a tryâ, you taunted him, âBefore Iâll make you do it insteadâ.
Jisung ended the banter by kissing you, claiming your mouth with an urgent desperation, relief washing over him as soon as he could have you like this - pinned underneath him with his lips on yours.
You hummed in satisfaction, your hands finding his hair and pulling on some strands. Your skirt was pushed up, his hurried hands grabbing your thighs to wrap your legs around his hips.
The friction of your heat against his bulge made him moan into your mouth, even if you still were wearing clothes.
You rolled your hips in tandem with him, both of you moved against each other. It was hot, you felt everything clinging to you so nastily - your clothes, your hair, the leather of the car seats. But still, you couldnât stop, you didnât want to push him away so you could breathe.
âJisung-â, you gasped, his mouth leaving yours to travel downwards again, in between your tits.
âYeah, fuck- I knowâ, he pressed a kiss to your skin, tongue darting out and tasting you, still rocking into you.
The space was so cramped, but that only led to him pressing against you some more, kneeling on the seats for more leverage and because he couldnât properly stretch out his legs either way - one arm around your lower body holding you close.
Your nails dug into his shoulders, scraping up his skin and he hissed as the pain mixed with pure want and desire.
âWanna be inside you-â, he choked out a breathy moan, needing to be pulled away from your chest by his hair before he could bite marks into your skin, âHate to be the one begging, but please- I really need to-â.
A hand came up to his jaw, angling his head up, so you could nip at his skin there.
âThatâs no real beggingâ, you laughed hoarsely, âI guess Hyunjin wants me more than you doâ.
Your words made his hips snap forward, granting more friction against your aching clit before he retracted enough to let a hand fall between your legs.
Middle and ring finger stroked your folds, Jisung was moaning when he felt how soaked the fabric of your panties was.
âFuck- I bet he doesnâtâ, he closed his eyes as your hand wrapped around his throat, âI want you so bad- please, jagi. Let me have youâ.
His needy voice made your pussy throb, his little gasps probably could be enough to make you fall apart untouched.
âBegging for an engaged woman?â, you whispered, âHow filthy, Sungieâ.
His fingers pushed your panties aside, gathering your slick to insert both of them at the same time. Your body reacted heavily, you werenât able to stop the relentless grinding against his hand. His palm rubbed against your clit like this and you rewarded him with an open mouthed kiss.
âCall me filthy as much as you like- I want you- I want to fuck you raw, youâd let me do it, right?â, he grinned, such a dumb and silly look while his eyes were only half lidded, âI need to fuck you- pleaseâ.
Jisung curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot and making you moan. He tried to bribe you, dragging his fingers out with a nasty wet sound, pushing them back in so slowly.
âTell me again that you want meâ, he demanded, it sounded so desperate, so full of hope and although it was crushing your heart how devoted he looked at you while saying that, you wanted to hear it over and over again.
His fingers stayed inside, he scissored them - feeling you and stroking your most sensitive spot with careful precision.
âI want you, Sungieâ, you told him, delighted in the way his pupils dilated, âRaw. Right here, right nowâ.
Your voice was barely a whisper, driven by your lust and suffocated in groans.
âFuckâ.
Jisung pulled his fingers out immediately and first you whined at the loss of stimulation before the same sound escaped again, when you saw him sticking his digits into his mouth. He pushed them past his lips to suck them clean, eyes closing in bliss.
Hurried hands moved to open his pants and pull them down as much as needed to free his cock, coating it with his precum in a few hasty strokes.
He got close again, quickly lining himself up to your entrance before he pushed in. The first inch had him grunt in desperation, the second made him whine.
âMore, Sungie. Give me moreâ, you gasped.
He trembled heavily, twitching inside of you as if he was about to cum already.
âStop squeezing me-â, he breathed, pushing in steadily but torturously slowly until he bottomed out.
Both of you moaned, your hands clawed at him to urge him to finally move, but he took his sweet time with it. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, his breath was hot against your skin there.
âI canât believe- fuck- you feel so so goodâ, he choked out, grinding into you without properly pulling out between thrusts.
You smoothed out the hair in his neck, stroking him there to soothe his restless shivering on top of you.
It took him a few minutes, he was so caught up in the intense feeling of your walls gripping him, that he had to snap back into reality.
âI bet- I bet Hyunjin-ah doesnât fuck you this goodâ, he said, the cocky grin on his lips was so unfamiliar, it was only for you to witness.
But his ego was incredibly pushed like this, with you writhing underneath him although you were someone elseâs - although you shouldnât moan his name out loud.
âI donât want you to try for a babyâ, he got up on his knees again as much as it was possible, his hand splaying out where Hyunjins had touched you just moments ago, âI bet I could get you pregnant like this-â.
He was drunk on you, there wasnât a single coherent thought in his head in that moment. Dark eyes were empty, but so full of you, just you and nothing else.
âIâm gonna fill you up- please let me, yeah? You can pretend itâs his, but-â, his hand pressed down on the bulge his cock left there and you arched your back off the leather seats.
You were lost for words, couldnât even answer his delusional statements, because the dopamine mixed in with adrenaline rushing through your body was making you dumb as well.
âPlease let me fill you up-â, his voice was so whiny, so desperate for you, âNo one has to know it is mine, we can keep it a secretâ.
You were so close already, but you didnât care. Usually, your sessions with Jisung were pretty quick, because they had to be. Just like now, you heard voices coming closer and you felt your blood boil and freeze at the same time.
âJisung-â, you hissed, but you couldnât keep quiet.
The thrill of people being outside, the possibility of getting caught seemed to spur him on and he picked up his pace.
âJisung, wait-â, you tried again, pulling him down to your chest again to stop him from moving.
âCanât- feels so-â, he slurred, mouth latching on your tit, hand pulling your bra down to have better access.
His lips found your right nipple, sucking it into his mouth and between his teeth.
âHahh- fuckâ, you moaned, tears forming in your eyes.
The fear of someone from the management finding you here was persistent, but Jisung was very eager to help you and find arousal in this kind of anxiety. The voices got quieter again, but none of you seemed to care now either way.
Jisungs tongue rolled against your nipple while fucking you into the seats with a sloppy pace, you were so wet it echoed in the car.
âGonna fill you up, gonna make sure it takes-â, he gasped, âFuck-â.
He pushed you over the edge, his words heightening the sensation of the cool in your stomach finally snapping as you clenched down on his length.
âJi- hahhâ, you whimpered, pulling on his hair to push his face closer to yours so you could kiss him.
He moaned into your mouth, opening his lips to let you taste him as you liked. He fucked you through your orgasm, hips snapping sharply into you until he finished deep inside you.
Jisungs breath was as heavy and quick as yours, pushing his cum in deeper.
âPlease-â, he whispered, âPlease, let me do that again. I- Iâll drive you home later, I need-â.
You grinned, pushing his hair out of his face. Hyunjins plan had worked, he was a mess.
warnings: super famous hyunjin, confident reader, suggestive
đ he's mine · MoKenStef
THE APARTMENT was quiet in a comfortable way, filled only by the low sound of the television and the clinking of the glass in your hand.
on your phone screen, another edit. and another, and another.
and another one.
Hwang Hyunjin in slow motion leaving a fashion show in Paris like it had been engineered in a lab specifically to destroy the female publicâs sanity.
black coat slipping off his shoulders, tired gaze, rings shining on his fingers while he fixed his hair.
in the comments, a collective apocalypse:
âHE KNOWS THE EFFECT HE HASâ
âthis man ruined my lifeâ
âI would let him step on meâ
you let out a small laugh through your nose, resting your chin on your hand, the worst part was that you understood them, you really did.
Hyunjin was handsome in an irritating way.
almost unfair.
the kind of man that seemed to always exist under cinematic lighting, even in shaky airport videos.
the annoying part was that he was a handsome man, and he knew it.
the pop-up notification appeared on the screen, making you leave TikTok and open WhatsApp:
babe đ§Ą
iâm here, princess!
you took another sip of wine while waiting, less than two minutes later, the door code was typed from outside, and then he walked in.
the suitcase bumped lightly against the wall as it was dropped near the entrance.
Hyunjin looked exhausted.loose black hoodie. mask pulled down to his chin. messy travel hair. heavy sleepy eyes.
and still⊠beautiful, absurdly beautiful.
his eyes found you in the kitchen almost instantly, as if automatically searching.
â you didnât even come to greet me? â â his voice came out low, hoarse from the trip.you slowly lifted your phone.
â i was busy watching this mess â
he narrowed his eyes immediately.
â oh no â you laughed.
â Hyunjin, this girl said you two are spiritually married â â you started reading the comments out loud, getting closer to him.
â good for her â
â this one called you daddy! â
Hyunjin let out a tired sigh, walking slowly toward you.
â babe â â he squeezed your waist.
â hm? â
â put that phone down â
his calm tone didnât fool anyone, you knew him too well.Hyunjin stopped in front of you, sliding his hands slowly over your waist while you were still holding your unlocked phone showing his edits.his fingers gently pressed the fabric of your shirt.
â i spent the whole day hearing people scream my name â â he murmured, leaning his face closer to yours. â â and then i get home and youâre ignoring me because of me. â
you bit back a smile, sooo dramatic.
â poor k-pop sex symbol, it must be so hard being pretty. â â you pouted dramatically. he finally let out a short nasal laugh.
â you think itâs funny until someone tries to steal your boyfriend. â â he started drawing small invisible circles on your waist
.â no oneâs gonna steal you. â â you didnât even really look at him, you knew exactly what you meant, you were sure.
â i know â â he answered softly.
since you started dating, even with his wish, you never wanted to appear publicly with him, because you didnât want to lose your peace.
even though close friends said it would work as âprotectionâ for your relationship, you didnât care.
the whole world could want him to the point of madness, but at the end of the night, it was you wearing his shirt with nothing but underwear underneath.
it was you holding a glass of wine while he buried his face in your neck, tired from the trip.
Hyunjin snatched the phone from your hand without warning.
â hey! â â you pouted, watching the smile grow on his face.
â enough of my edits for today. â
â jealous of your own fandom? â â you raised an eyebrow.
â i miss you. â the answer came out so simple it made your chest tighten a little, he dropped the phone on the sofa without even looking where it landed, going back to holding your waist right after.
â come here â â he murmured, pulling you toward the bedroom.
damn, maybe the girls in the comments were right about one thing: it was impossible to say ânoâ to him.
synopsis: bf!skz found out you write... about them... content: smau, cussing, suggestive, suicide jokes, grammar mistakes // typos, petnames (baby, pretty girl, love, doll, hot babe next door LOL) ss: 19
â룚ì: don't mind the times, can't make them work D: also in the bonus, there is one person less, and i am sorry about that, i won't pay </3
also fics i mentioned in the texts: this and that
Summary: Everything was going great with Han... Until management gets involved.
Warnings: a lotta angst but happy ending (for real this time)
Word count: 13.2k.
a/n: AYO THANK YOU ALL FOR THE LOVE ON GAMEBOY WHAT THE HECK I LOVE YOU GUYS?? As I warned, this is heckin angsty but it's got a happy ending xo
[Part One]
âHan, stop!â you squealed as he dug his fingers into your sides under the duvet.
âNever!â he proclaimed, rolling on top of you to get a better angle. âNot until you say it!â
âOkay, okay! Youâre way better at producing than Changbin!â
You gasped for breath as his fingers stopped, a smile plastered to your face as you gazed up at him, his messy hair framing his face. You still had to pinch yourself sometimes to believe that this was real. That the past few months had really happened.
He raised an eyebrow at you, smirking, and you flushed as he trailed off, knowing what he wanted.
âYouâre way better at producing than Changbin⊠baby.â
Your flush deepened even further as his smirk softened and he leaned down to place a tender kiss on your lips, mumbling a soft âthought soâ.
You huffed out a breath as he let his body weight drop on you, wrapping his arms around your waist as your own came up to wrap around his shoulders, one sneaking up to play with the hair at the base of his neck. You loved starting your days like this, in the quiet of your room with Hanâs warmth warming you through, because you knew you wouldnât be able to get this close to him again until you could be sure that no one would see.
Even though youâd been dating for a few months, neither of you had brought up the possibility of becoming official publicly. You knew that Han had a tour coming up with the rest of Stray Kids, and he knew that you were busy focusing on building your own career as a solo artist. Heâd carried on helping you produce your songs, and both of you had written a song about your previous relationship with Wooyoung called Toxic Til The End. You both agreed that it was a song that didnât necessarily need to be shared; it was just a form of therapy for you to get your feelings out in a song.
Youâre brought out of your thoughts by Han shuffling around, burying his nose into your neck. You smiled softly and soothed your fingers up and down his spine, feeling him shiver slightly from your light touch. You knew you had to get up soon â management had called a last-minute meeting â but you wanted to soak up as much of the morning as you could.
You allowed yourself five more minutes before you tapped him lightly on the back, mumbling, âJisung, I have to get ready now. I need to meet with management in an hour.â
You felt as much as heard the groan against your neck. âNo,â he whined. ââm comfy here.â
You chuckled and kissed the side of his face. âI know, but I canât miss this meeting. I canât annoy management this early in my career.â
Han sighed and pushed up onto his elbows, showing you his pout. âLogic isnât fair this early in the morning.â
âMaybe not, but itâs the only way Iâll leave this bed.â
You flushed again as he smiled at you suggestively, leaning in to leave a lingering kiss on your mouth. You pulled away as he tried to deepen it and giggled as you heard him groan, again. You pushed back the covers, stretching, before you swung your legs over the side of the bed. Han was still lying in your bed, but you could feel his eyes on you.
You nearly trip over your own feet walking to the bathroom, still hazy from the peace and warmth of Jisungâs body tangled with yours moments before. The apartment is quiet except for the distant hum of traffic outside and the rustle of sheets behind you as Han shifts in the bed.
You push your way into the bathroom, yawning as you flick the light on, but your eyes widen when you catch sight of your neck.
âOh my God.â
Dark marks bloom across your neck and collarbone, impossible to miss against your skin. One particularly obvious love bite sits right beneath your jaw, and you clap a hand over it in horror.
âNo, no, noââ
You spin around and rush back into the bedroom, one hand still pressed to your neck while you dig frantically through discarded clothes for a hoodie, a scarf, anything. From the bed, Han watches you with sleepy amusement, propped up on one elbow, hair messy and lips still swollen from his inability to stop kissing you.
âWhat are you doing?â he asks, voice still rough from lack of sleep.
âYou attacked me,â you accuse, horrified. âI canât go outside looking like this!â
He blinks at you slowly before snorting out a laugh. âAttacked you?â
âYes, attacked me! People are going to ask questions!â
You finally find a jumper and clutch it to your chest like salvation. Hanâs smile softens as he watches your panic spiral.
âAnd what,â he says carefully, âwould be so bad about people asking questions?â
You freeze, and the room suddenly feels very still. Han sits up properly now, the blanket slipping down his waist to reveal his tattoos as he rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking far more nervous than amused.
âI meanâŠâ He glances away for half a second before meeting your eyes again. âWeâve been hiding for so long.â His voice is quieter now. âIâm tired of pretending youâre not mine.â
Your heart stutters painfully in your chest. âJiâŠâ
âI want people to know,â he admits. âNot in some huge dramatic way. But⊠officially.â He smiles shyly. âIf you want that too.â
The panic draining through your system is replaced by something warm and dizzying. You stare at him for a moment, trying to process the fact that the thing youâd secretly wanted for months is sitting right in front of you.
âYou mean it?â you whisper.
âOf course I mean it.â
He reaches for your hand, thumb brushing across your knuckles. âI hate having to act normal around you in public,â he murmurs. âI hate not being able to hold your hand when I want to. And honestly? I kinda like everyone knowing Iâm the one who did that to your neck.â
You let out a startled laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. âYouâre unbelievable.â
âBut you like me.â
Unfortunately, he says it with that smug little grin that makes your stomach flip every time.
Your expression softens. âI do,â you admit quietly, head cocked to the side as you take everything in.
Hanâs face changes instantly at that â all fondness and relief and affection so overwhelming you can barely stand looking at him.
âSoâŠâ he says carefully, squeezing your hand, âshould we tell management?â
You bite your lip, unable to stop smiling now.
âI have my meeting this morning,â you say. âI can mention it then.â
His eyes light up so brightly that it steals the breath from your lungs. âSeriously?â
You nod once, and before you can say anything else, heâs pulling you back onto the bed with a laugh, wrapping both arms around you tightly as he buries his face back into your neck â thankfully, the unmarked side.
âYou have no idea how happy you just made me,â he mumbles against your skin.
You melt into him, fingers threading through his hair. For the first time ever, hiding doesnât feel necessary anymore.
The excitement you carried from your conversation with Han dies the second you walk out of the meeting room.
The words still echo in your head so loudly you can barely hear anything else.
âTo be desirable, you have to be available.â
You walk down the hallway numbly, fingers curled tightly around your phone. The fluorescent lights overhead feel too bright, and the building suddenly feels cold and unfamiliar, despite the fact that youâve spent years here.
Your contract clearly states that there will be no relationships for the next 3 years.
Three years.
You knew the clause existed when you signed. Everyone did. But back then, relationships felt hypothetical â something distant and avoidable. Not this. Not Han. Not someone who had somehow slipped into every quiet space in your life until loving him felt as natural as breathing.
Youâd tried to argue. Youâd pointed out that fans werenât stupid, that idols dated all the time, that your private life shouldnât matter more than your music, but management hadnât budged. Theyâd surprised you with a tour announcement that was apparently too important to jeopardise. The company was investing too much into your debut, and they were sending you as a support act for Stray Kidsâ world tour. They wanted attention on the music, on the performances, on the image they were selling.
Not on a relationship.
You stop outside the studio door and take a steadying breath before pushing it open. Music spills out instantly, along with laughter, and Han looks up immediately. The second he sees you, his entire face lights up.
âThere you are!â Han practically bounces out of his chair, abandoning the headphones around his neck. âDid they tell you?â
You try to smile.
âAbout the tour?â
âYes!â He grabs your hands immediately, excitement radiating off him. âWeâre together for the whole thing. A whole year.â His eyes shine. âCan you believe that?â
Despite everything, your chest aches fondly at how happy he looks.
âA whole year,â you echo softly.
Han notices it then â the strain in your voice, the way your smile doesnât quite reach your eyes.
His expression falters, releasing your hands in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist. âWhat happened?â
The room quiets around you. The others pick up on the mood quickly enough to awkwardly busy themselves elsewhere, giving you space without saying a word.
You swallow hard, staring over his shoulder. âThey said no.â
Han stills. âWhat?â
âThey donât want us going public.â Your voice comes out smaller than you intended, wobbly. âThey said itâll distract from the tour. From the music.â You laugh bitterly under your breath. âAnd apparently I need to seem âavailable.ââ
The excitement drains from his face so fast it hurts to watch. âThey canât seriouslyââ
âThey reminded me about the contract.â
Han goes silent at that, and his jaw tightens. For a moment, he looks genuinely angry, the kind of anger he rarely lets himself show. His fingers squeeze yours instinctively before he looks away, exhaling sharply through his nose.
âThree years,â he mutters.
You nod once.
The reality of it settles heavily between you. More sneaking around, careful touches when nobodyâs looking. Pretending. Again.
Your throat tightens as you force yourself to say the words you know he needs to hear. âItâs okay.â
Han immediately looks back at you. âItâs not okay.â
âBut it can be.â You step closer, further into his embrace, and you feel his arms tighten around you reflexively. âWe still get the tour. We still get each other.â
His expression crumples slightly at that.
âI wanted to hold your hand in public,â he admits quietly. âI wanted to stop pretending.â
The honesty in his voice nearly breaks you. You reach up and smooth his hair back gently, tucking it behind his ear. It was getting long now⊠I need to hide the scissors, you thought distractedly.
âWe will one day.â
Han leans into your touch instinctively, eyes closing for half a second.
âWhen?â he asks softly.
You donât have an answer, so instead, you wrap your own arms around him tightly, trying to pour all of your frustration and care into the hug. You feel him doing the same, and the studio around you fades away completely.
âA year together,â you murmur against his shoulder, trying desperately to sound hopeful. âThatâs still good, right?â
Han lets out a quiet laugh that sounds dangerously close to sad.
âYeah,â he whispers. âYeah. Itâs good.â
He pulls back just enough to look at you properly again, determination slowly replacing the disappointment in his eyes. âWeâll make it work.â
You nod immediately. âWe will.â
Because even if the world isnât allowed to know yet, the truth remains the same.
Heâs yours, and youâre his.
And you would wait however long you needed to.
Getting ready for the event should have been fun and, honestly, part of it is.
This is your first major industry event as a solo artist. Your stylists fuss around you excitedly, management keeps reminding you how important networking is, and every few minutes, someone says something about how proud they are of how far youâve come. But every time you look at the empty space beside you, your chest aches a little.
Because you should be arriving with Han.
Instead, youâre travelling separately, pretending thereâs nothing between you except professional respect for the producer who has been working with you for months. Your phone buzzes just as your car pulls up outside the venue.
Ji đżïž: where are you?
You: just got here, coming in now
Ji đżïž: iâll find you
Ji đżïž: donât look too pretty before i get there jagi
You canât help smiling at the screen.
Then the car door opens, and reality crashes back in.
The event hall is enormous. Lights flash constantly from every direction as reporters crowd the entrance, shouting names over one another. Idols stand clustered beneath company banners while managers hover nearby like anxious shadows. Everywhere you look, thereâs movement, designer clothes, cameras, and recognisable faces. Itâs overwhelming, and youâve never felt more out of place.
You bow politely through introductions you barely process before escaping deeper into the hall with a drink in hand, hoping to gather yourself and maybe spot Han. You linger near the edge of the room, trying not to look as lost as you feel while your eyes scan the crowd. No Han. No Stray Kids, either. You exhale slowly and take a sip of your drink as your eyes continue to wander, then you make eye contact with someone across the room and freeze, dread pooling in your stomach.
Oh no.
Wooyoung.
You havenât seen him since the breakup. Months of carefully avoiding interviews, schedules, mutual industry events â and now here he is, walking directly toward you with that familiar confident smile that used to charm you once upon a time.
Now it just irritates you.
âWell,â Wooyoung says smoothly as he stops beside you, âthereâs the superstar.â
You force a polite smile, conscious of the people around you. âHi.â
âYou look good.â
âThanks.â
The conversation should end there, but instead, he lingers - too close. Too familiar.
âHowâve you been?â he asks, voice softening slightly. âHavenât heard from you in a while.â
You almost laugh at the understatement. âIâve been busy.â
âI noticed.â His eyes flick over you knowingly. âSolo career suits you.â
Something about the way he says it makes you uncomfortable immediately. You shift slightly away from him and glance around the room again, looking for a way out of the conversation. You finally find Han across the hall, and your heart drops as you notice that his eyes are already locked onto you. Or, more specifically, onto Wooyoung standing far too close to you.
Even from this distance, you can see the fury written across his face.
Beside him, Lee Know has a hand wrapped firmly around his arm, clearly muttering something meant to stop him from storming across the room. Your heart lurches, and you subtly widen your eyes at Han, trying desperately to communicate: Donât. Not here. Not now. Not in front of cameras.
Hanâs jaw tightens visibly. You turn your back slightly toward him, hoping Wooyoung wonât notice the exchange. Unfortunately for you, heâd decided that now is the time to finally pay attention to everything again.
âYouâre nervous,â Wooyoung says quietly.
âIâm not.â
âMhm.â
You frown harder. âWhat do you want?â
His expression shifts then â less charming, more smug.
âI heard rumours,â he says casually. âAbout you and Han.â
Your blood runs cold. âTheyâre rumours.â
Wooyoung hums like he doesnât believe you for a second.
âFunny,â he says, stepping closer again. âYou never looked at me the way you look at him.â
Before you can answer, another voice cuts in sharply.
âMaybe because she actually likes me.â
Your stomach flips, and your eyes dart sideways. Han. Heâs standing beside you now, expression controlled but visibly strained underneath it. Up close, you can tell heâs trying very hard not to lose his temper.
Wooyoung straightens immediately, then smirks. âWell, if it isnât the problem.â
Han laughs once without humour. âPretty sure youâre the one bothering her.â
You step between them slightly before this becomes a headline. âCan we not do this here?â
Wooyoung ignores you completely.
âYou know,â he says to Han, âshe used to talk about me constantly.â
Hanâs expression darkens.
âAnd now she doesnât,â he replies flatly.
Wooyoung scoffs softly. âYou really think this is permanent? Idols break up all the time.â
Your patience snaps.
âWooyoung.â Both men look at you, and you carry on regardless, struggling to keep your composure. âI am never getting back together with you,â you say firmly. âEver.â
The arrogance on Wooyoungâs face falters slightly, but you continue before he can interrupt.
âIâm happy now. Happier than Iâve been in a long time.â Your voice softens instinctively as you glance toward Han. âAnd I love being with him.â
You smile softly at your boyfriend, and Han looks at you like youâve hung the stars in the sky. The anger melts from his face completely, replaced by something so unbearably soft your chest aches. Youâre snapped from your moment by an unknown voice.
âCan we get a picture?â
All three of you turn to see a reporter hurrying over excitedly.
âJust one photo! The fans would love it.â
Absolutely not. You open your mouth to refuse, but somehow you end up shuffled between Wooyoung and Han before you can escape. Cameras flash instantly. You try not to look horrified. Han remains perfectly composed beside you, though you can feel tension radiating off him. Wooyoung, annoyingly, smiles like this is entertaining.
The picture is taken quickly, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
âThank you!â the reporter chirps before disappearing again.
Wooyoung steps away first, but before leaving, he glances at you one last time.
âI donât give up easily,â he says lightly, before walking off into the crowd.
You stare after him in disbelief, and Han immediately turns toward you.
âAre you okay?â
The concern in his voice instantly softens your irritation.
âIâm fine,â you assure him quietly. âAre you?â
He exhales slowly. âAsk me again tomorrow.â
You laugh despite yourself. Han smiles faintly before glancing around the room cautiously. Cameras still flash everywhere.
âI should probably go before someone notices Iâve been standing here too long.â
Your heart sinks a little, but you nod. Before leaving, his fingers brush subtly against yours â hidden by the folds of your outfit where nobody can see. A secret touch, a reassurance, just for the two of you.
Then heâs gone.
But for the rest of the evening, you notice little things. Chan appears nearby whenever reporters crowd you too aggressively. Changbin casually intercepts people trying to pull you into uncomfortable conversations. Minho is watching the room like a security guard.
And Han is always somewhere in your line of sight, hovering close enough to protect you, even if nobody else notices why.
And honestly? You love him a little more for it.
Youâre getting really sick and tired of last-minute meetings, especially when the meeting feels less like damage control and more like punishment.
You sit silently at the long conference table while management talks at you rather than to you, every word tightening the knot in your stomach further.
âYou were too obvious.â
âHan almost caused a scene.â
âYou need to be more careful.â
You grip your hands together beneath the table hard enough for your nails to hurt. âI didnât do anything wrong.â
One of the executives sighs impatiently. âThe issue isnât whether you did something wrong. The issue is perception.â
Perception. Image. Marketability. Words that, at one point, felt incredibly important to you now leave a bitter taste in your mouth.
âThe media response to the event has been overwhelming,â another manager continues. âToo many people are speculating about you and Han.â
You almost laugh. âWell, maybe if you let us just confirm the relationshipââ
âNo.â
The answer comes immediately, their tone firm, final. Your jaw clenches as you try to resist the urge to argue with them.
âWe need attention redirected,â they continue. âAnd conveniently, the event already created another angle.â
Your stomach drops before they even say his name. âNo.â
âYou havenât heard the plan yet.â
âI donât need to.â
But they continue anyway. âWooyoung is willing to cooperate.â
Cooperate.
Like this is business. Like youâre his business.
âYouâll be seen together casually over the next few weeks,â management explains. âCoffee shops. Restaurants. Shared exits after schedules. Nothing confirmed, nothing denied.â
You stare at them in horror as you realise what theyâre implying.
âYou⊠want me to fake-date my ex-boyfriend?â
âNo,â one corrects smoothly. âWe want people talking about possibilities besides Han.â
You push your chair back slightly in disbelief, wanting to create space between their words and yourself. âThis is insane.â
âItâs strategic.â
âItâs cruel.â
The room goes quiet for a moment before the head executive says, âItâs necessary.â
You hate how powerless you feel.
âYou donât understand,â you say quietly. âHan already hates this.â
âThen heâll need to learn professionalism.â
The anger that flashes through you is immediate and sharp.
âHe is professional.â
âThen this shouldnât be a problem.â
You want to scream. Instead, you sit there in silence because you already know how this ends. You already know that the decision is made, and you have no choice but to accept for the sake of your contract and your career. For your future.
They all feel like they are balanced carefully above your head, like something fragile enough to shatter at the slightest mistake.
And for Han and your future together⊠youâd survive anything. Even this.
Later that night, your apartment feels unbearably quiet. Half-packed suitcases sit open across your bedroom floor while clothes spill from drawers and skincare products clutter every available surface.
The tour starts tomorrow, and normally, youâd be excited. Instead, dread curls heavily in your stomach. Behind you, Han lies across your bed, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone, one leg dangling off the edge.
âYouâre overpacking,â he says lightly without looking up.
âI am not.â
âYou packed three hoodies yesterday.â
âTheyâre different hoodies.â
Han snorts softly, and the sound makes your chest ache because for a few minutes, everything feels normal. Safe. And youâre about to ruin it.
You stop folding your clothes, take a deep breath and call to him, âJisung.â
He glances up immediately. Something in your face makes him sit up slightly, eyebrows drawing together in concern. âWhatâs wrong?â
You suddenly canât look at him. Managementâs words replay in your head over and over until you feel sick.
âThey want me to do damage control.â
Han frowns. âWhat does that mean?â
Your throat tightens. âThey think people are talking too much about us after the event.â
His expression hardens instantly. âSo?â
You force yourself to continue. âThey want me to be seen with someone else.â
He stares at you as he tries to figure out what you mean. You can see the moment the penny drops and understanding dawns slowly across his face.
âNo.â
You nod once miserably, shoulders hunching in on yourself.
âNo,â he repeats, sharper now.
âThey think itâll distract people.â
âWith who?â
You hesitate too long, and Han knows immediately who youâve been set up with. You can see the anger on his face as he stares at you.
âYouâre joking.â
âI tried to argueââ
âWooyoung?â He actually laughs, but thereâs nothing amused about it. âThey want you photographed with your ex-boyfriend?â
âIt wonât be officialââ
âThatâs even worse.â
You watch hurt replace anger in real time, and you find yourself struggling to make eye contact. You hated hurting him, couldnât stand the guilt that was beginning to take over.
You panic as Jisung stands abruptly from the bed.
âSo what? Iâm just supposed to watch headlines about you and another guy for months?â
âItâs fake.â
âI know itâs fake!â he snaps.
The room falls silent instantly afterwards, and Han closes his eyes briefly, visibly trying to calm himself down. Youâve rarely seen him this upset. Even when you hurt him months ago, he hadnât looked this angry.
âI canât do this tonight,â he mutters finally.
Your chest tightens painfully as he grabs his hoodie from the chair. You try to stop him.
âJiââ
âI just need air.â
He heads for the front door before you can stop him, and fear surges through you immediately. You rush after him barefoot, catching his wrist just as he reaches for the handle.
âPlease donât leave angry.â
He stills, and you can see the conflict written all over his face.
âI hate this too,â you whisper desperately. âI hate every part of it.â
He finally turns toward you, and he looks so hurt. Your eyes are already burning, but the pain on his face brings very real tears to your eyes.
âYou think I want this?â Your voice cracks slightly. âYou think I want to stand beside him pretending everythingâs fine when all I want is to be with you?â
Hanâs expression softens instantly at that, and you grip his hand tighter, begging him with your eyes to change his mind, to stay.
âIâm trying,â you say quietly. âIâm trying to protect everything.â
His shoulders sag slightly, and he looks down at your joined hands. For a long moment, neither of you speaks, but then Han steps closer again, and you feel a rush of hope.
âI know,â he murmurs.
You exhale shakily. âIâm sorry.â
âDonât apologise for something theyâre forcing you into.â
âBut youâre hurt.â
âYeah.â He gives a small, humourless laugh. âI am.â
Honesty always sounds gentler coming from him; it was something youâd always loved about him. He lifts a hand to your face, thumb brushing beneath your eye carefully.
âIâll learn to deal with it,â he says quietly. âI have to, right?â
The words break your heart a little, but you have no choice but to nod weakly. He smiles softly, but itâs full of sadness. He leans down and kisses you softly, and your breath stutters. The kiss isnât desperate or heated. Itâs sad.
His forehead rests against yours afterwards. âIâll see you in the morning,â he whispers, forcing himself to step away before either of you can change your minds.
The door closes softly behind him, and suddenly the apartment feels enormous. Itâs too quiet, too empty without Jisungâs laughter filling the space. You slide slowly down against the wall until youâre sitting on the floor beside your front door, staring at the door he just walked through.
The tour hasnât even started yet, and youâre already terrified of what all this might do to the two of you.
The dorm is quiet when Han gets back.
Most of the lights are off except for the kitchen, where Minho sits eating ice cream straight from the tub while scrolling through his phone like itâs two in the afternoon instead of nearly midnight.
He glances up as Han walks in, then pauses when he sees the look on his face.
âYou look terrible.â
Han drops onto the chair opposite him with a groan, dragging both hands down his face. âThanks.â
âYouâre welcome.â
Normally, the bluntness would earn a laugh. Tonight, Han just sits there staring blankly at the table.
Minho watches him quietly for a moment before setting the ice cream down. âWhat happened?â
Han exhales sharply through his nose. âThey want her to do photo ops with Wooyoung.â
Minhoâs eyebrows lift slightly. âAh.â
âAh?â Han repeats incredulously. âThatâs your reaction?â
âIâm trying not to overreact before you finish explaining.â
Han slumps further into the chair before he tells him everything - the management meeting, the fake rumours, the âdamage control.â How upset you looked while explaining it.
And, eventually, the thing that was actually eating him alive underneath all the anger.
âWhat if this changes things?â Han asks quietly.
Minho stays silent as he looks at him. Han stares down at the table, jaw tight, avoiding his probing gaze as he continues.
âWhat if people start shipping them again? What if management pushes it further? What if she gets tired of hiding and decides this is too difficult?â
The words spill out faster now, all the insecurities heâd tried so hard to swallow clawing their way free.
âI know she says she loves being with me, but this industry ruins things. You know it does.â
Minho studies him carefully for a long moment before he sighs softly and leans back in his chair. âHan-ah.â
Han looks up tiredly as Minho continues. âYou know what this industry is like.â
âItâs not easy,â Minho says plainly. âItâs awful.â He takes another bite of ice cream. âBut sheâs no doubt miserable about it, too.â
Han goes quiet, and Minho waits a second before continuing, but more gently this time.
âEveryone can see how much she likes you.â
Hanâs eyes flicker slightly at that, hallway light catching the sheen in his eyes.
âShe looks at you like you hung the moon,â Minho says casually. âHonestly, itâs embarrassing sometimes.â
That finally earns the smallest snort of laughter from Han, and Minho points his spoon at him immediately, latching on to his better mood.
âIâm serious. She barely looked at Wooyoung last night unless she absolutely had to. But you?â He shakes his head. âYou walk into a room, and suddenly she forgets how to act normally.â
Warmth stirs painfully in Hanâs chest because underneath all his doubt, he knows itâs true. You do look at him differently⊠Like loving him is instinctive.
Minho softens slightly, seeing the tension ease from his face. âShe told you thereâs nothing to worry about, didnât she?â
Han nods slowly.
âThen believe her.â
Silence settles between them for a moment.
Han leans back in the chair and stares at the ceiling, rubbing his face. âI hate that she has to go through this.â
âI know.â
âI hate that I canât fix it.â
Minho hums quietly. âThat part never really changes.â
Han closes his eyes briefly, thinking about what was coming. Tomorrow the tour starts. It would be months of hiding, of rumours, of pretending. But underneath it all is still you. You were still the girl who chased him to the door because she couldnât stand the thought of him leaving upset. You were still the girl who said she was happy with him without hesitation.
You were still his.
Minho nudges the tub of ice cream toward him, holding his spoon out. âYouâll survive.â
Han looks at him flatly. âYour comforting skills are incredible, hyung.â
âI know.â
Despite himself, Han smiles faintly.
On the other side of town, you barely sleep. Every time your eyes close, your mind replays the look on Hanâs face when he left your apartment. He was hurt but trying not to show it, trying to be understanding anyway.
By four in the morning, you give up on sleep entirely.
Your phone sits beside you on the bed the entire night, painfully silent. You donât message him. Part of you wants to desperately â wants reassurance, wants him to tell you everythingâs okay, wants to hear him call you baby in that sleepy voice that always melts the tension right out of you. But fear wins. Because what if he doesnât answer? Or worse⊠ What if he does, and itâs different?
By the time youâre in the car heading toward the airport, your stomach is twisted into knots so tight you feel nauseous. Tour is supposed to be exciting. Instead, all you can think is heâs going to break up with me. You hate yourself a little for thinking it, but anxiety doesnât care about logic.
The airport is already chaotic when you arrive. Staff rush around organising luggage while security attempts to control the crowds gathered outside. Reporters swarm the main entrance, waiting for Stray Kids to arrive.
Your manager quickly ushers you toward the quieter back entrance.
âThe boys are handling press out front,â they explain. âYouâll board separately.â
You nod numbly. Honestly, youâre relieved. Youâre not sure you could survive pretending everythingâs normal in front of Han right now.
You turn the corner and stop dead in your tracks. Wooyoung is leaning casually against the wall, waiting for you. Your heart sinks as soon as you make eye contact.
âMorning,â he says easily, a grin on his face.
Right. The photo ops. Just what you need.
Your manager brightens immediately at the sight of him. You, on the other hand, want to disappear. Instead, you force a tight smile and stand beside Wooyoung while cameras magically appear from seemingly nowhere. Questions get thrown at both of you while flashes explode in your face. You barely hear any of it. You just smile politely, nod occasionally. Pretend. Wooyoung plays the role naturally, leaning slightly closer once or twice for the cameras. You feel worse than you did in the car.
By the time you finally reach security, your chest feels tight with anxiety. It just gets worse when you look up and see Jisung. Heâs standing further ahead with the rest of the members, cap pulled low over his eyes, hands shoved into his hoodie pocket, watching.
Your breath catches, and for one horrible second, you think he looks angry again. But when your eyes meet, he smiles. Itâs small but soft. Reassuring.
He turns away as if nothing happened, but relief hits you so suddenly that your knees nearly give out.
He doesnât hate you. Heâs still here.
You spend the next ten minutes trying to steady your breathing as you follow the staff through the private boarding area. Exhaustion finally crashes over you all at once now that the panic is easing. You just want your seat, your headphones, and to catch up on some much-needed sleep.
Youâre halfway down the corridor toward the plane when suddenly a hand grabs your wrist. You gasp in alarm as youâre quickly tugged sideways into the disabled bathroom nearby. The door clicks shut, and you spin around in panic before immediately sagging in relief.
âJisungââ
Before you can say anything else, he pulls you tightly into his arms.
âIâm sorry,â he says immediately into your hair. âIâm so sorry.â
Your entire body melts against him in relief. âYou scared me,â you whisper shakily. You both know youâre not just talking about now.
âI know.â His arms tighten around you. âI know, baby, Iâm sorry.â
The endearment nearly makes you cry from sheer relief. He pulls back just enough to look at you properly and immediately frowns.
âYou look exhausted.â
You laugh weakly. âCouldnât sleep.â
Guilt flashes across his face instantly. âBecause of me?â
You donât answer fast enough, and he closes his eyes briefly, as if the confirmation physically pains him.
âI never wanted to be the reason you lost sleep,â he says quietly.
Your chest aches. âYou werenât,â you lie softly.
Jisung gives you a look that says he knows better.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. The airport noise outside feels distant compared to the tiny space youâre crammed into together.
He exhales slowly. âI was angry,â he admits. âNot at you. I swear.â His fingers tighten slightly against your waist. âI just hated seeing you dragged into all this because of me.â
âItâs not because of you.â
âIt feels like it.â
You shake your head immediately. âI understand why you were upset.â
Han looks uncertain, and you smile sadly.
âIf the situation were reversed and they wanted you photographed with an ex-girlfriend?â You huff softly. âIâd lose my mind.â
That finally pulls a small laugh from him. âReally?â
âAbsolutely.â
His forehead drops gently against yours.
âI trust you,â he murmurs. âI just⊠need time to stop wanting to fight everyone.â
You laugh quietly despite yourself. âI noticed.â
Han groans softly. âMinho told me I was being dramatic.â
âHe was right.â
âWow. Betrayed by my own girlfriend.â
Girlfriend. The word settles warmly between you.
Your eyes soften immediately.
âI missed you,â you whisper suddenly, feeling embarrassed that it hadnât even been 24 hours since you last saw him. You didnât know how to explain that you missed the possible future without Jisung that your brain had fooled you into believing wouldnât have been in your life.
Hanâs expression melts completely. The exhaustion leaves his face all at once, replaced by something unbearably tender.
âI missed you, too.â
Then he kisses you.
Quick at first.
Gentle.
Like reassurance more than anything else.
But when your fingers clutch the front of his hoodie desperately, he kisses you again properly, warm and lingering and full of everything neither of you can say publicly.
When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless.
âWe should go before people notice,â you whisper reluctantly.
Han sighs dramatically.
âYouâre always ruining my plans.â
âYou dragged me into an airport bathroom.â
âAnd it worked, didnât it?â
You laugh for real this time.
God, you missed him.
Han brushes one last thumb beneath your eye gently before opening the door carefully.
âCome on,â he murmurs softly. âLetâs go start our tour.â
Tour becomes the strangest contradiction of your life.
Youâve never been happier⊠And youâve never been more exhausted by pretending.
Still, the moment you step onto the stage for your first performance as a soloist, everything else disappears. The crowd is deafening. Lights blind you the second the music starts, adrenaline surging so hard through your veins you almost forget to breathe. Thousands of people sing your lyrics back at you, your name echoing through the arena in a way that makes your chest ache with emotion. Â For those few minutes, you arenât somebodyâs girlfriend. You arenât a scandal risk or a contract. Youâre just you. And when you finish the final song to roaring applause, you nearly cry backstage from the overwhelming relief and joy of it all.
The first person you look for is Jisung. He catches you before you even properly make it behind the curtain, grabbing your face with both hands.
âYou were incredible.â
His eyes are shining so brightly that you almost melt on the spot.
âI messed up the second verse.â
âYou absolutely did not.â
âI did!â
âNobody noticed because they were too busy falling in love with you.â
You snort out a laugh, cheeks burning, and he beams at you like he personally put the stars in the sky.
Later that night, after schedules finally finish and staff disappear to their own rooms, you unlock your hotel door expecting nothing more than a shower and sleep. Instead, your room is covered with candles. Thereâs soft music playing from a portable speaker set up in the corner, and rose petals are scattered across the white duvet.
You freeze in the doorway, confused, until you see him. Jisung stands near the table, looking suddenly nervous despite all the effort clearly put into this.
âSurprise?â
Your mouth falls open. âJiâŠâ
The look on your face makes him smile instantly.
A full dinner is laid out across the small hotel table â room service desserts, expensive wine neither of you particularly likes but thought looked romantic, and a tiny handwritten note propped beside your plate.
You stare at it all in disbelief and ask, âYou did all this?â
âWell, I couldnât exactly take you out publicly,â he says sheepishly. âSo I improvised.â
Your chest hurts from how much you love him. You cross the room quickly and throw your arms around his neck without another thought. Han laughs softly as he catches you, holding you close.
âWas it too much?â he asks into your hair.
âNo,â you whisper immediately. âItâs perfect.â
And honestly? It is, because even hidden away in a hotel room halfway through tour preparations, he still finds ways to love you loudly.
The next few weeks settle into something dangerously domestic.
You wake up tangled together almost every morning, warm hotel sheets twisted around your legs while sunlight creeps through the curtains. Han always tries to leave before the others wake up⊠Heâs terrible at it.
One morning, youâre still half asleep when you watch him stumble around the room trying to find his hoodie with his hair sticking up in every direction.
âYou look ridiculous,â you mumble into the pillow.
âI look stealthy.â
âYou walked into the wardrobe five seconds ago.â
Han glares at you weakly before leaning down to kiss your forehead anyway. âGo back to sleep.â
You giggle quietly as he sneaks out into the hallway, looking thoroughly dishevelled and deeply suspicious. Somehow, nobody catches him. Or maybe the others just choose not to say anything. Unfortunately, though, outside those hotel rooms, reality still waits.
The âsightingsâ with Wooyoung continue exactly as management planned.
The park is first.
You wear your hair down specifically to hide the wireless earphones tucked carefully beneath it, one AirPod playing music quietly so you donât actually have to talk to him. Paparazzi conveniently âspotâ the two of you walking side by side beneath the trees near the hotel.
From the pictures, it probably looks peaceful. Romantic, even. In reality, you spend most of it staring ahead, pretending not to notice the cameras, while Wooyoung occasionally attempts conversation, which you barely respond to.
The second sighting at the coffee shop is worse.
By then, articles are already circulating online. Could there be something between them? Fans are constantly speculating after recent appearances. You want to scream every time you see them.
âYou really hate this, huh?â Wooyoung asks eventually, stirring his drink lazily.
You donât even bother denying it.
âI told you already,â you say quietly. âIâm happily with someone.â
His expression dims slightly, though not enough. âStill him?â
You look up immediately. âYes,â you answer firmly. âStill him.â
And despite everything â the cameras outside, the rumours online, the constant pressure weighing on your shoulders â your heart feels lighter saying it because every night still ends the same way.
Back in secret hotel rooms, in Hanâs arms, with sleepy kisses in the dark and whispered words that nobody else gets to hear.
And for now, thatâs enough.
The sighting that ruins it all is the one you least expected.
You were a month into tour, and exhaustion started creeping into everything.
The performances were the easy part. You loved being on stage. You loved the crowds, the adrenaline, and the feeling of slowly becoming more confident every single night. Supporting Stray Kids has become strangely natural too â backstage chaos, rehearsals, shared meals at ridiculous hours of the night.
Itâs the pretending thatâs exhausting. All the hiding, the constant calculations, the carefully timed entrances and exits from hotel rooms. The way your hand instinctively reaches for Hanâs, only for you to stop yourself at the last second if someoneâs nearby. And most of all⊠Wooyoung.
The fake sightings just keep happening. Management becomes relentless once the initial rumours start gaining traction online. Every few days, thereâs another âaccidentalâ encounter planned at a restaurant or on a walk. Sometimes itâs a shared ride or a conveniently photographed conversation outside venues.
You cancel as many as you can. You genuinely do. You use rehearsals as excuses. Vocal strain. Fittings. Meetings. Jet lag. Anything you can think of. But sometimes management refuses to budge, and apparently tonight is one of those nights.
âIâm just saying,â Jisung says from where heâs pacing your hotel room, frustration bleeding into every word, âit feels like you could push back harder.â
You stare at him in disbelief. âI have been pushing back harder.â
âThen why does it keep happening?â
âBecause they donât care what I want!â
The room falls silent for half a second, and he stops pacing. You instantly regret snapping, but the exhaustion sitting heavy in your chest makes it hard to soften yourself quickly enough.
âI know,â he says, quieter now. âI know they donât.â
But he still looks upset. Still tense. Hurt.
Part of you understands. Every time another article comes out pairing your name with Wooyoungâs, you feel sick too. But another part of you is just tired - so unbelievably tired.
âIâm doing everything I can,â you say finally, rubbing at your face. âIâm trying to keep management happy enough not to ruin my career, Iâm trying to survive my first tour, and Iâm trying to keep our relationship together while nobodyâs allowed to know it exists.â
His expression shifts immediately, and guilt flickers across his face.
âThatâs not what I meantââ
âNo, but thatâs what it sounds like.â Your voice cracks slightly despite yourself. âLike Iâm failing some test because I canât magically make them stop.â
âYouâre not failing.â
âThen stop acting like Iâm choosing this!â
Jisung goes quiet, and the hurt on his face makes your anger falter instantly, but before either of you can fix it, thereâs a knock on the door. Â Both of you freeze, and your stomach sinks immediately. The staff member assigned to ensure you make it on time is right on time. Another knock follows when you donât answer, and a voice carries through the door.
âWe need to leave in five minutes,â a staff member calls through the door.
The atmosphere in the room changes instantly. Itâs back to reality, and back to pretending. Jisung looks devastated by it.
âSeriously?â he mutters bitterly.
You close your eyes briefly, feeling the faint pain of a headache building from your stress.
âI have to go.â
âI know, butââ He steps toward you immediately. âCan we not leave it like this?â
The frustration in his voice hurts more now because you know it isnât anger anymore. Itâs worry. You grab your bag silently, avoiding his eyes because if you look at him for too long, you might cry.
Thereâs another impatient knock, and you feel your patience fraying as the staff member speaks up again.
âMiss? The carâs waiting.â
Han runs a hand through his hair roughly. âJust tell them to wait two minutes.â
âThey wonât.â
âI donât care.â
âBut I do!â The words come out sharper than intended, patience finally wrung out. You inhale shakily before softening slightly. âI canât keep giving them reasons to watch me more closely.â
Han falls silent, and you finally force yourself to look at him properly. His eyes are full of concern now instead of frustration.
âBabyâŠâ
The worry in his voice nearly undoes you.
âIâll see you later,â you whisper quietly.
Jisung still looks unsettled. Like he hates the idea of you walking out that door while things feel unresolved between you.
âI donât want you leaving upset,â he admits softly.
Your chest aches painfully. âIâm not upset at you.â
Thatâs the truth. Youâre upset at the situation and at management. At the constant pressure squeezing tighter and tighter around both of you.
He steps closer like he wants to kiss you goodbye properly, but another sharp knock interrupts again. âWe really need to go now.â
You both flinch apart instinctively.
The momentâs gone.
You sling your bag over your shoulder and head toward the door reluctantly. Jisung catches your wrist just before you open it.
âIâll be waiting for you,â he says quietly.
Your eyes burn unexpectedly before you open the door. Staff immediately begin ushering you down the hallway before either of you can say anything else. You glance back once, and Hanâs still standing in the middle of your hotel room, watching you leave, looking like there are a hundred things he still wants to say.
And somehow that image stays with you all the way to the car, waiting to take you to another fake date with someone you stopped loving a long time ago.
By the time you arrive at the restaurant, your head is pounding, and you barely remember the drive there. All you can think about is Jisung standing in the middle of your hotel room, looking worried, while you walk away from him.
You hate leaving things unresolved, especially with him.
The restaurant is loud and packed with people, with warm, low-hanging golden lights, overcrowded tables, and conversations blurring into an overwhelming din. Itâs easily the busiest place management has arranged for you and Wooyoung to be seen together so far, but it doesnât surprise you. More people means more cameras, which means more opportunities for rumours.
You spot Wooyoung already seated near the windows â strategically visible, naturally. He smiles when he sees you approaching, but it fades slightly once you sit down.
âYou look miserable.â
You give a dry scoff in response instead of answering.
Wooyoung studies you for a second. âYouâre quieter than usual tonight.â
You stare blankly at the menu despite already knowing you wonât be hungry enough to eat much. âMaybe because I donât want to be here.â
âThatâs never stopped you before.â
You look up sharply, and Wooyoung leans back in his chair slightly. âYou used to talk a lot, you know.â
You roll your eyes immediately. âAnd?â
âIâm serious.â
âWooyoung, please.â
He goes quiet for a moment before sighing softly. âYou look stressed lately.â
Something in you finally snaps. Youâre not sure why exactly. Maybe because youâre exhausted, or because you already miss Jisung. Maybe because youâre tired of everyone expecting things from you constantly.
You put the menu down harder than intended.
âBecause I am stressed,â you say sharply. âIâm exhausted all the time, I barely sleep, management controls every second of my life, my relationship has to stay hidden while they parade me around with my ex-boyfriend, and if I breathe wrong, thereâll probably be an article about it tomorrow.â
Wooyoung blinks in surprise, but you arenât finished yet.
âAnd Iâm trying so hard to keep everything together while everyone around me acts like Iâm some kind of product instead of a person.â
The words spill out faster now.
âIâm tired of cameras. Iâm tired of fake smiling. Iâm tired of pretending Iâm okay with any of this.â
A camera flashes outside the window suddenly, and Wooyoung reacts instantly, reaching across the table to grab your hand.
âThere,â he murmurs quietly. âThatâs why.â
Your stomach twists unpleasantly, but you immediately force a smile toward the window before smoothly pulling your hand back from his. The second the cameras lower, your expression drops flat again.
Wooyoung watches you carefully before he surprises you.
âIâm sorry.â
You blink at him. âFor what?â
âFor⊠everything, I guess.â He looks strangely sincere for once. âI wasnât good to you when we were together.â
You stare at him for a second before rolling your eyes again. âOkay.â
His mouth opens slightly. âThatâs it?â
âWhat do you want me to say?â
âI donât know. Maybe that you forgive me?â
You almost laugh. âWooyoung, I genuinely do not care anymore.â
And surprisingly, itâs true. Whatever heartbreak once existed there feels distant now. Faded. Unimportant compared to what you have with Jisung.
You just feel tired.
âI just want to finish this dinner,â you say quietly.
After that, the conversation dies almost completely. You eat mechanically while Wooyoung occasionally attempts small talk, which you barely engage with. Outside the windows, photographers continue lurking like vultures.
By the end of the meal, exhaustion weighs so heavily on you that you feel hollow. You just want Jisung. You want his arms around you, and you want to crawl into bed beside him and apologise properly and pretend none of this exists for a few hours. The thought alone keeps you moving as the dinner finally ends.
Outside the restaurant, cameras immediately begin flashing again.
You force yourself through one final polite goodbye. âGoodnight, Wooyoung.â
You turn to leave, but his hand suddenly catches your arm. Before you can react properly, Wooyoung pulls you toward him and kisses the corner of your mouth.
Flashes explode around you instantly, and your entire body freezes in shock. But not for long. You shove him away hard enough that he stumbles slightly.
âWhat the hell are you doing?!â
Wooyoung looks entirely too calm.
âRelax,â he says lightly, glancing toward the cameras. âIâm sticking to the plan.â
Your stomach turns violently. âThat was not the plan.â
He shrugs. âPeople will eat it up.â
You stare at him in complete disbelief. For one horrible second, all you can think about is Jisung seeing the pictures. Seeing that.
Your chest tightens painfully.
âYou donât get to touch me like that,â you snap quietly.
Something flickers across Wooyoungâs face then â annoyance, maybe guilt â but you donât stay long enough to figure it out. You turn immediately and walk away as fast as you can, ignoring the shouting reporters behind you.
Your skin feels wrong.
Your mouth feels wrong.
And all you want is to get back to Han before the internet does.
The entire drive back to the hotel feels like drowning in anxiety.
Your phone wonât stop vibrating from constant notifications, messages, articles, and tags. The second that photo hit the internet, it spread everywhere. Fans caught it from different angles. Paparazzi posted blurry close-ups within minutes. Headlines were already appearing before youâd even left the restaurant district.
IDOLS CONFIRM ROMANCE RUMOURS AFTER SHARING INTIMATE MOMENT.
You feel sick every time you glimpse the image under the headline. It looks real. The different camera angles create an illusion of attachment, of love. Your nausea increases as you scan the article and see your own worst nightmare brought to life â people believe thereâs something very real between you and Wooyoung.
By the time the car pulls up outside the hotel, panic has fully settled into your chest.
Han.
You need to explain to Han before he spirals, before he believes it.
You practically run through the lobby and into the elevator, heart hammering painfully the entire way up. Your hands shake so badly, fumbling for your room card, that you nearly drop it twice.
The door swings open, and your stomach drops when you notice that your room is empty. Han said heâd wait for you and promised that heâd be here.
âJisung?â
Nothing. The room is silent except for the hum of the air conditioning. Your panic surges harder as you realise you might not have got here in time, and youâre already rushing back into the hallway before the door fully closes behind you.
You pound on Hanâs hotel door desperately, dying to find him.
âJisung?â
Thereâs no answer, and you knock again harder.
âHan, pleaseââ
You place your ear to the door when you hear muffled voices, but you realise that itâs not coming from his room, but the room next door. Lee Knowâs room.
You hurry over immediately and knock hard enough that your knuckles hurt. The voices inside stop, and you call through the door.
âMinho,â you call shakily. âPleaseâ can I talk to Han?â
Thereâs a long pause, and youâre about to knock again when the door opens slightly. Minho stands there looking tired and hesitant. Your heart sinks further.
âPlease,â you whisper immediately. âI need to explain.â
Minho glances back over his shoulder, deciding on how to answer, when another figure appears behind him.
Han.
Your breath catches painfully at the lack of emotion on his face. You expected anger and sadness, but his eyes looked empty, his expression defeated.
âJisungââ
âI always worried youâd go back to him.â
The words hit you like a physical blow. âWhat? Noââ
âItâs not even just tonight.â His voice is quiet, exhausted. âI tried not to think about it every time management sent you out together.â
Youâre already shaking your head before he finishes his sentence. âHan, it wasnât my choiceââ
âI know.â
But he says it in a way that sounds like it doesnât matter anymore.
You stare at him desperately, begging him to believe you. âItâs not what it looked like.â
Han gives a tiny, sad smile that nearly breaks you in half.
âThatâs the problem,â he says softly. âIt looked exactly like what I was scared of.â
Your eyes fill instantly. âNo, listen to meâ he kissed me, I pushed him away immediatelyââ
âBut he still kissed you.â
The hurt in his voice cracks straight through your chest. He looks exhausted â not physically, but completely emotionally exhausted.
âI kept trying to ignore it,â he admits quietly. âThe photos. The articles. How natural you looked together.â
âNatural?â you repeat incredulously. âHan, I barely spoke to him!â
âBut nobody else knows that.â
You step closer desperately. âIt was staged.â
âI know it was staged,â he says again.
Somehow, hearing that hurts worse, because he does know. He knows you⊠And heâs still giving up.
Hanâs eyes finally meet yours fully, and your stomach twists violently at the emptiness there.
âI just thinkâŠâ He swallows hard. âMaybe this was always going to be too difficult.â
âNo.â The answer leaves you instantly. You know you must look terrified, and you can't help but plead with him. âNo, donât say that.â
Hanâs expression crumples slightly at the panic in your voice, but he keeps going anyway.
âWe canât even argue properly without being dragged apart for publicity schedules.â His laugh is hollow and quiet. âWe hide constantly. We barely get to be real together outside hotel rooms.â
âWe can fix it.â
âI donât think we can.â
Tears spill down your face immediately. âJisung, please.â
He looks at you for one long, awful second, and you can see it. You can see how much he loves you. You think it must be that which makes this unbearable.
âThank you,â he says quietly, voice cracking slightly, âfor the last few months.â
Your heart stops.
âNo.â
âBut I think itâs better if we stop now before this hurts worse.â
You actually stare at him in disbelief. You feel like your brain physically cannot process the words. You canât believe that this morning you were waking up, wrapped in his arms, and hours later he was breaking up with you.
Han takes one slow step backwards, then another.
âJisung, please ââ
He turns away and walks back into Minhoâs room. You immediately try to follow, panicked beyond reason now, but Minho steps into the doorway and blocks your path gently but firmly.
âMinho, move.â
âYou need to give him space.â
âNo, I need to talk to him!â
Your voice breaks completely.
Inside the room, you can hear movement, but Jisung doesnât come back, doesnât say another word. The silence is devastating.
âPlease,â you beg Minho desperately. âPlease let me in. I love him, Minho! I promise.â
Minhoâs face softens slightly as you gasp for breath, the pain in your chest unbearable.
âI know.â
âThen tell him!â
âHeâs hurt.â
âSo am I!â
âI know,â Minho says quietly. âBut right now he needs space to think.â
You shake your head immediately, tears falling harder now. âThereâs nothing to think about. Heâs what I want.â
The conviction in your voice makes Minhoâs expression flicker sadly. But he still doesnât move aside.
âYou both need time,â he says gently. âYouâre exhausted. Emotional. Everythingâs been building for weeks.â
You wipe angrily at your tears. âI donât want time. I want to fix this.â
Minho sighs softly.
âIâm tired,â he admits. âAnd right now my priority is looking after him.â
The words hurt more than they should because suddenly youâre outside the room. Alone.
Minhoâs hand tightens slightly on the door. âWeâll see you tomorrow for soundcheck.â
You stare at him helplessly as the door closes quietly in front of you.
That night, you donât sleep. Not even for a minute.
You lie in your hotel bed, staring at the ceiling, as the world outside slowly shifts from darkness to pale morning light. Every time you close your eyes, you see Han walking away from you again.
Thank you for the last few months.
The words replay so relentlessly in your head, you think you might actually lose your mind.
At some point, your phone buzzes repeatedly on the bedside table. First, itâs your tour staff, then itâs management. Eventually, you even get one message from Chan asking if youâre okay after missing breakfast. You donât answer anyone, you just silence your phone and roll over to stare at the wall.
By the time soundcheck rolls around, you still havenât moved from the bed. You physically canât make yourself. The idea of seeing Han and pretending to function normally feels impossible. So, you stay there curled beneath the duvet in yesterdayâs clothes while the hotel room remains dark around you.
Eventually, management starts panicking â there are more calls. More knocks. Messages begging for you to answer because you have the concert later. You finally drag yourself up barely an hour before it starts because you know you canât miss the performance entirely.
Your reflection in the mirror startles you. You look awful. Your eyes are swollen from spending all day and night crying, and your skin is pale. You look like somebody hollowed you out from the inside.
The arena backstage feels painfully familiar when you arrive. Usually, you love the energy before a show â the rush of staff running around, the sound checks, the excited nerves humming through everyone. Tonight it just feels cold.
You see Stray Kids almost immediately, and your chest caves in.
Han is standing with the others while a stylist fixes his in-ear monitors. For one horrible second, instinct makes your body lean towards him automatically. Towards your comfort and your home. Then you remember that you canât do that anymore.
Han looks up, and your eyes meet briefly. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he looks away first. The motion is small, but it devastates you anyway. There was no smile, no secret glance, no mouthed good luck like always. Nothing.
You have never felt lonelier in your life.
The rest of the members notice you, too, but the atmosphere is now painfully awkward. Changbin gives you a hesitant nod, and Felix looks openly concerned. Minhoâs expression softens slightly when he sees how exhausted you look, but he doesnât approach either. None of them know what to do, and you can't blame them because, honestly, neither do you.
You decide to keep your distance, burying your face in your phone and avoiding everyone, because you know this is hard for them, too. Theyâre his family before theyâre your friends.
Your performance that night is⊠fine. Technically. You hit the notes, and you remember the choreography. The crowd still cheers and sings along to your songs, but you feel disconnected from your own body the entire time, like youâre watching somebody else perform through thick glass.
And afterwards, backstage is worse. Because Han always found you afterwards, even if only briefly. Youâd gotten used to hearing his voice in your ear the second you stepped offstage.
You were amazing.
Iâm so proud of you.
Tonight thereâs nothing. Han walks past you once while talking quietly with Chan and doesnât even glance your way. You almost stop breathing.
Thatâs when it truly sinks in.
This is really happening. Youâve really broken up.
The next two weeks become survival rather than living.
You stop laughing, you stop eating properly. Sleep becomes something distant and unreliable. Some nights you cry silently into hotel pillows until sunrise. Other nights, you just lie awake, numb and empty, while tour buses and aeroplanes blur together endlessly.
You and Han become strangers in public spaces. Heâs professional and polite when needed. Distant like none of those nights tangled together in hotel sheets ever happened.
The members try in their own ways. Felix starts lingering nearby more often, and Chan checks in quietly a few times. Minho watches you with increasing concern every time you show up looking thinner and more exhausted than before.
But nobody mentions Han.
And Han never approaches you.
By the time the final Korea show approaches, youâre barely holding yourself together. Standing on stage feels harder every night. Breathing feels harder every night. Being near Han and not being able to talk to him, to touch him, feels like torture.
You make a decision, realising you canât possibly carry on this way and still keep your sanity. So, you request a meeting with management the day of the final concert.
âI canât continue the international leg of the tour.â
The room goes silent immediately. âWhat?â
You keep your expression blank because if you let yourself feel anything right now, youâll fall apart.
âIâm exhausted,â you say quietly. âIâm not coping well physically.â
âThatâs not an option.â
âIâm telling you now because I physically cannot do this for months more.â
They argue immediately. They mention contracts, schedules, money, and commitments. You sit through all of it feeling strangely detached. Eventually, you lower your gaze and say the one thing you know theyâll take seriously.
âIf I collapse publicly, thatâll be worse for everyone, wonât it?â
Management exchange tense looks, the tension palpable.
You continue softly. âI need to rest. I need to go home.â
In truth, you need to escape from the tour and the heartbreak. From seeing Han every day while pretending you arenât falling apart.
Eventually, begrudgingly, they agree to frame it as illness and exhaustion after the Korea leg finishes. They label it a temporary hiatus. A recovery period.
You nod numbly through the rest of the meeting, then leave before anyone can change their minds. You donât tell the boys, and you donât plan to, partly because you donât think theyâd care anymore. And partly because if Han asked you to stay without the relationship, you know you would.
You just might not survive it.
Later that day, backstage is loud. Staff rush past, carrying headsets and equipment, while stage managers shout out timings amid the arena's chaos. Usually, the noise helps settle your nerves before performances. Tonight, it barely registers.
Your final performance.
The thought feels strangely hollow, much unlike the heavy suitcases loaded into the taxi waiting to take you to the airport. Youâd decided it would be best to have a clean break. There was no point hanging around for anything anymore.
You sit silently in the makeup chair with your mic resting loosely in your hands, staring blankly at nothing while stylists do last-minute touch-ups around you. You donât even know if Han is avoiding looking at you anymore or if youâve simply stopped trying to catch his eye.
âHey.â
You blink slowly and look up. Chan stands nearby, expression careful.
âYou okay?â
The question almost makes you laugh, but you just nod weakly instead. Chan doesnât buy it for a second, and he glances around before pulling up a chair beside you quietly.
âI wanted to ask you something.â
Your stomach twists immediately. Chan rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, eyeing the floor.
âThe photos,â he says carefully. âWith Wooyoung.â
There it is. You lower your eyes to your microphone, thumb soothing the cool metal.
âIâm confused,â Chan admits softly. âBecause I remember how badly he treated you.â
Your throat tightens painfully. Chan had seen some of it firsthand when you and Wooyoung dated. Not all of it, but enough to understand what a horrible place you were in with him.
You swallow hard. âIt wasnât real.â
Chan goes very still. You still donât look at him as you continue quietly, voice numb from repeating this truth over and over in your own head.
âManagement wanted publicity away from Han. They arranged the sightings.â Your fingers tighten around the mic. âThe kiss wasnât planned. He just did it.â
You canât see his face, but you can hear his tone darken. âAnd Han knows that?â
âI tried telling him.â
The words come out hollow.
You turn slightly, and you can see Chan watching you carefully from the corner of your eye. Really watching. You know that he can see the exhaustion and the weight loss. The emptiness sitting behind your eyes.
Realisation slowly dawns across his face.
âOh,â he says softly.
You laugh once weakly. âYeah.â
A staff member suddenly calls your name from across backstage. âFive minutes!â
You slowly stand, smoothing your outfit. Chan rises too, but before he can speak again, you finally look at him and give him a small, tired smile.
âThank you,â you say quietly.
He frowns slightly. âFor what?â
âFor letting me join the Korean leg of the tour.â Your voice softens further. âYouâve all been really kind to me.â
Confusion flashes across Chanâs face immediately. âWhat do you mean Korean leg?â
You just smile again. Itâs small, sad. âThank you for everything, Chris.â
You walk away before he can stop you, and behind you, Chan stands frozen in place.
The crowd screams the second you step onto the stage. Thousands of lights shimmer across the arena like stars while music pounds through the speakers loud enough to shake the floor beneath your feet. Normally the sound energises you, but tonight you feel strangely detached from your own body.
You move through the choreography automatically, smiling when youâre supposed to smile, singing when youâre supposed to sing. A performance built from muscle memory. Then midway through the setâ
You see him.
Wooyoung.
Near the barricade.
Watching you.
And suddenly, all the hurt and exhaustion curdling inside you twists sharply into anger. Youâre not angry at Han or yourself. Youâre angry at him - at the person who kissed you without permission, knowing exactly what it would do.
Your heartbeat pounds loudly in your ears as you make a split-second decision. Before you can second-guess yourself, you turn sharply toward the live band stationed near the side of the stage.
âToxic Till The End,â you say suddenly into your mic. The band members blink in surprise, but you need to do this. You need to tell him, to tell the world.
âNow.â
Your manager looks horrified from the side stage, but you ignore them completely. The crowd erupts excitedly as the musicians scramble to adjust. You step toward the front of the stage slowly, breathing hard.
âThis songâŠâ Your voice echoes through the arena. âWasnât originally meant to be performed yet.â
The crowd quiets slightly, listening. You donât know if itâs the look on your face or the anger in your voice, but you carry on regardless, glancing once toward Wooyoung. You feel a thrill when his expression shifts uncertainly.
âItâs about a recent relationship,â you continue softly. âA toxic one.â
The arena falls completely silent now, and you can practically feel management panicking backstage. You donât care anymore.
âI wrote it with somebody who means the world to me,â you admit quietly. âAnd despite everything⊠Iâm thankful for every second I got to spend with them.â
Your chest aches violently from the truth behind your words, and you close your eyes briefly, composing yourself before continuing.
âTonight feels like the right time to finally share it.â
The music starts, and the first notes ring out low and haunting through the arena.
When you begin singing, every lyric is aimed directly at Wooyoung. Every word is about manipulation and heartbreak and exhaustion sharpened by months of buried anger. You hold eye contact with him relentlessly, and you watch the confidence slowly leave his face.
Good.
For the first time in weeks, you feel honest on stage again. Real.
The emotion cracks through your voice painfully during the second chorus, and youâre confused when the crowd starts screaming. Â You glance sideways and freeze, mic falling from your lips. Han is walking onto the stage, mic in hand. He approaches slowly, eyes locked entirely on you as he sings the words youâve lost.
The arena absolutely loses its mind.
You forget where you are, forget everything except him. For the first time in weeks, Han is looking at you, and you donât know what to do. He reaches you just before your next line and gently lifts your microphone back toward your mouth with one hand. The gesture is so soft it nearly breaks you.
âSing,â he murmurs quietly.
Your eyes immediately fill with tears, but you do. The tears finally fall when Han starts singing with you, standing close, focused just on you. Itâs not officially part of the performance, not rehearsed. Heâs just there beside you, voice blending perfectly with yours while the crowd screams around you. You stare at him in complete shock the entire time. Han doesnât look away once, not during the bridge or the final chorus. Not even when your voice shakes.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, the rest of the world disappears completely. You donât notice Wooyoung storming out of the arena, and you donât notice the managers panicking backstage. You barely even hear the crowd anymore.
Because Han is looking at you like heâs finally seeing you again. Not the version of you from that picture, not the version of you that broke his heart.
For the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe.
When the final note fades into deafening screams, you barely hear any of it. Your chest is heaving from the emotion of the performance, tears still clinging to your lashes as you stare at Han in complete disbelief.
Heâs here.
He came onto the stage for you.
For one suspended moment, neither of you moves. The crowd is losing their minds around you, thousands of phones raised into the air, capturing every second, but suddenly, none of it matters. Because Han is looking at you the same way he used to in hotel rooms at three in the morning.
Like youâre his everything.
And the second you realise that, the words come pouring out before you can stop them.
âI tried to tell you,â you say breathlessly.
Han blinks slightly, startled by the sudden rush of words.
âThe sightings werenât real, I swear to God they werenât real,â you continue desperately. âI hated every single one and I tried so hard to stop them but management kept pushing and I thought if I just got through tour it would calm down andââ
âHeyââ
âAnd the kiss wasnât planned,â you say quickly over him, tears slipping free now. âI pushed him away immediately, Ji, I would never- could never- do that to you.â
The arena has gone strangely quiet. Fans are desperately trying to hear you, and staff are panicking. You donât care anymore.
âI love you,â you whisper brokenly. âI have always loved you.â
âI couldnât stand you looking at me like that anymore,â you admit shakily. âLike I broke something between us.â
Han takes a small step closer instinctively, but his expression changes suddenly.
âWait.â
You sniff weakly. âWhat?â
His eyebrows pull together. âWhat did Chan mean when he said this was your last show?â
Your stomach drops instantly.
Oh.
Chan told him.
You look away immediately, and Hanâs voice softens. âWhat do you mean by the last show?â
Your eyes burn harder. âI canât do it anymore.â
The honesty spills out painfully now that itâs started.
âI canât stand being around you every day and pretending like Iâm okay.â Your voice shakes violently. âI canât keep hiding and watching everything fall apart and acting like Iâm fine with it.â
Han looks horrified. âYou were leaving?â
You nod weakly. âAfter tonight. My bags are already in the taxi.â
âWithout telling me?â
âI thought you hated me.â
The words hit him like a slap, and his face twists instantly. âI never hated you.â
âBut you left me.â
âI was hurt!â he says desperately. âI thought I lost you.â
âYou didnât.â Your voice cracks completely. âYou never did.â
You stare at each other as youâre encompassed by a raw, painful silence. The crowd barely exists anymore. You wipe at your tears roughly and force yourself to keep going before you lose the courage.
âIâll leave you alone after this,â you whisper shakily. âI know thatâs probably what you want now, and I shouldnât have even done thisââ
Han kisses you â hard, suddenly - one hand grabbing your waist while the other cups your face as he pulls you into him like he physically cannot get close enough fast enough.
The arena explodes. Screaming erupts so loudly you feel the stage vibrate beneath your feet, but you canât even process it.
Because Han is kissing you in front of everyone. In front of cameras, managers, and fans.
The entire world.
And he kisses you like heâs been dying to do it for weeks.
When he finally pulls back, youâre both breathless, and your eyes are impossibly wide.
âJisung!â you whisper in panic. âWhat are you doing?â
Immediately, your head snaps toward the backstage area, where managers look seconds away from cardiac arrest. âYouâre going to get in so much trouble.â
Han just looks at you for a second before smiling. Itâs soft and fond and completely unbothered.
âBaby,â he says gently, brushing his thumb beneath your tear-stained cheek, âIâm Han Jisung.â
You blink at him in confusion, and he grins slightly wider.
âWhat are they gonna do?â His eyes flick briefly toward the horrified staff backstage before returning to you. âFire me?â
A laugh escapes you before you can stop it, half hysterical and half disbelieving. Han immediately melts at the sound, leaning down to rest his forehead against your own.
âThere she is,â he murmurs softly.
Your chest aches so violently with love for him that you think it might kill you.
The crowd is still screaming around you as Han continues to rest his forehead against yours, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, right there in the middle of the stage.
Thereâs no more hiding. No more pretending.
Just him.
There would be consequences after tonight â furious managers, broken contracts, headlines, backlash, endless meetings, perhaps even penalties neither of you could fully predict yet. By morning, the entire industry would know. The secret you had both protected so desperately was gone now, laid bare beneath arena lights and thousands of screaming voices.
But as Han held you in his arms in your hotel room later that night, thumb brushing reassuringly across your knuckles while the world erupted online, none of it felt frightening anymore.
For months, you had lived in fear of losing your career, opportunities, and reputation. Yet lying beside him now, finally loved out loud, you realised there was something far worse than consequences: living without him. And as Han looked at you with that same soft, unwavering love that had found you on building rooftops and airport bathrooms and across crowded arenas, you knew with absolute certainty that whatever came next, you would survive it together.
As long as you had him, you felt like you could face anything.
a/n: ARE WE HAPPY? WHAT DO WE THINK? AS GOOD AS PART ONE OR PURE SHIT? lmk in the comments xo
I appreciate any and all interactions with my work xo
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in which⊠twice and stray kids take part in the JYP game caterers. chaos of course ensues due to the competitiveness of you both.
warnings: fluff, teasing from other members/producer, nothing else really
authors note: based on the new jyp x game caters collab! itâs free to watch on youtube!! gonna make this a series, and do a part for each episode!!
you had practically grown up with chan. being the maknae of twice, born 2000, you were similar in age to chan.
as twice debuted, your unnieâs practically adopting the younger boy, as he moved through his trainee days.
youâll always remember him as the shy young boy, who was waiting for his moment, while he watched his older sisters debut and break records.
but you never forgot him. if anything, when he debuted, the pair of you grew even closer.
it was always a taboo subject. one that you never really spoke about. the thought of dating each other. it had always been clear to everyone in the company about the feelings between the pair of you. but it was something youâd not dare to speak about.
but as you guys slowly grew older, the feeling stayed and also grew with you.
it had always been speculated by fans about the relationship between the two of you. you always showed up at stray kids events, you would speak about them if there was a chance to. the same going for chan. it was pretty obvious, but everyone seemed to like it.
but still to this day, youâd never put a label on what you were. youâd have moments. many moments where it crossed that line but you still were nervous for what that actually meant.
but here you were today. a jyp company game show, pretty much. and you were buzzing.
you, nayeon, jihyo and jeongyeon had been put forward for the event, knowing how competitive you all were.
you arrived at the filming location, collecting your little apron with âTWICEâ written across the front, pulling it over your outfit, which was matching with the girls.
as you walked out into the main area, you were met with all the other groups you see on a day to day basis in the company.
the producer explained things briefly to you all, as you stood and listened, waiting for the games to officially begin. which is when he directed all of the older groups and bands back inside to wait for their entrance, starting with the juniors first.
you and the girls sat on a row of chairs, watching the screen as each group moved out into the grass to one of their songs.
youâd been making eye contact with chan, from where you were sat the whole time. trying to steal a glance at the boy whenever you could, sometimes being caught by him, or worse his members; which was embarrassing for you as they loved teasing the pair of you.
they were called to leave the room, being the next group on the veterans line. the tv broadcasting as they came out, jeongin sat on changbin and chans shoulders as hyunjin walked in front of them.
you laughed, looking at the chaotic group formation, as they moved forward to âCEREMONYâ. eventually, the two dropped jeongin and continued making their way forward.
it sounded so cringe, but you were practically cheesing at chan. the way he moved about as he made his way to their line.
âwe get it, you love him,â nayeon teased, hitting your leg lightly.
âyah! can we not?â you laughed, trying to hide the embarrassment on your face.
the other girls joined in teasing you as you guys stood up, ready to move outside.
âletâs welcome twice!â the producer announce, as the younger groups cheered, âmusic please!â
you had chosen to walk out to âTWICE SONGâ in honour of your other girls who couldnât make it.
the four of you skipped out, jeongyeon holding the flag, as you all posed on the beat. a much more put together entrance than the other groups if you say so yourself. you continued to skip forward, lip syncing to the song with the girls.
chan watched as you moved forward, having fun with a wide smile of your face. he couldnât take his eyes off you. you were just you in this moment. fun and free, his favourite version of you. he watched as you guided nayeon the right way, as she began to stray.
you arrived infront of the boys, giving a grin to chan, who was now stood directly behind you.
âwait! DAY6 debuted before TWICE?â the producer asked in shock looking over at the four of you.
âby a month!â you, jihyo and nayeon immediately responded.
he laughed it off and continued introducing the remaining groups and jyp himself.
which then swiftly led you into the âwarm upâ as he called it. he called up the trainees who have gone âabove and beyondâ, in this context being called the scouts. jihyo being one of them, who you cheered for supportively.
âyoungK why do you think you were called up here?â
âweâre not doing the basic dance moves, are we?â he asked in response.
to which the producer immediately answered, with a yes. the crowd laughed, but mixed with a few gasps from the veteran groups who hadnât done the dance in years.
hyunjin turned to your group, âdid you do it like this?â he asked you all, moving his arms.
âwe did it like this,â you responded, showing him a similar move. the other members of his group now getting involved.
âitâs a little different,â chan said, âitâs changed over time,â he added.
âi just remember a move like this,â you then demonstrated it, chan smiling and laughing at your little movement.
âyeah, there was,â
the producer sat down and watched the groups discuss. when nayeon spoke up and pointed at chan. âheâs good at this!â
chan immediately shook his head no, and waved his hand back and fourth. âbangchan remembers everything!â changbin yelled from behind him.
which stirred everyoneâs voices, all coming together to agree. jihyo called him up, as chan reluctantly gave into his noona, moving forward.
chan stood on the stage, as the producer asked whether he was a cadet. after their conversation died down, changbin called out from the crowd. âyah! if chan is up there, y/n needs to be too! they do everything together!â
you laughed and shook your head, knowing you have no clue what the dance was at all.
your girls behind you immediately started cheering and pushing you up, and being their younger, you of course had to listen.
you moved up onto the stage, hands on your face, knowing you were about to embarrass yourself. you stood next to chan, grinning from ear to ear, as well as him. chan knew you had no clue what the dance was.
after all of the so called cadets were called up to the stage. the dance slowly began.
the whole time you looked to the side, eyeing the movements of chan, but clearly failing miserably, as you just laughed, continuing to mess the arms and legs up.
it was very clear you were copying chan, eyes not leaving him, but maybe that wasnât the only reason.
eventually, chan began leading the whole group. speaking out loud with counts, as the crowd began praising him for his memory.
the crowd applauded as it came to an end, the embarrassment of messing it up so bad still wearing you in, as you laughed behind your hands.
âbut seeing this now, i saw a few others breaking the tradition,â the producer spoke out, as jyp looked at all of his idols. âiâll call the ones who need retraining. dowoon, changbin, i.n and y/n! please come forward!â
chan looked between you and his members. but you just continued laughing knowing the producer wasnât wrong. you looked a mess doing the dance.
your girls also just laughed at the embarrassment on your face. jihyo stepping aside on the stage.
âsorry, but doesnât stray kids dance?â the producer asked. âthatâs not the stray kids, i know!â everyone laughed, the two boys laughing.
âthey should be able to handle double or even quadruple speed, right?â
your eyes widened in shock, knowing you definitely could not. everyone however cheered yes.
âplay it at double speed, please!â
the music turned on and you burst out laughing at the speed. changbin trying his best to find a suitable tempo.
you continued to do the dance moves, still eyeing chan who was marking it slightly in the corner for you, as he knew you were clueless.
as the song ended you were congratulated and clapped off stage, making better progress than the last run through.
ânext is song relay!â the game was announced, where each group would be called up to the stage randomly to perform one of their performances.
twice was eventually called up. âwhat is love?â being the song that played. you ran up to the stage with the others following behind you, moving into position.
as it moved around to the chorus, the crowd joined in, chanting along with the words.
the groups performance was clean. surprisingly no messing up from any of you, especially you, who tends to forget choreography. you bowed and moved off stage, as the audience cheered, chan chanting your name slightly.
after a few more rounds stray kids were called up with âMANIACâ. and it didnât take long for the group to slightly mess up, hyunjin walking around cluelessly, chan then messing up as he looked around at the others.
you grabbed onto nayeon as you pointed and laughed at the boys, who were clearly embarrassed.
chan moved off of the stage and made his way over, slightly pushing you sarcastically in response, but you just pushed him back, giving him a toothy grin as you laughed at him once more.
he rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face said more than anything.
â SUMMARY. In which Y/N didnât expect to hook-up with her bias, and Hyunjin didnât expect to fall in love with her.
â PAIRING. hwang hyunjin x fem!reader
â GENRE. idol!hyunjin x fem!reader
â WC. 6.7k+
â WARNINGS/OTHER. cursing ; angst ; hyunjinâs lowkey an idiot (& also a stalker) ; lots of mutual pinning ; mentions of sex
NOTE. yâall are either going to hate me or love me for this one. either way, looking forward to hearing your thoughts <33
á° SIX | SERIES M.LIST
KyĆka suigetsu (Japanese) â an idiom with the literal translation of âflower in the mirror and a moon in the water.â It references something which is visible and cannot be touched as well as the profound beauty of poems that cannot be described in words
Florence feels much softer in the rain. Hyunjin notices that almost immediately during his first day in the city.
The crowd outside had diminished significantly once the first downpour hit, right as Hyunjin stepped foot into the third art museum of the day. Heâd like to say that the rain is the reason heâd been pushed into yet another gallery tucked along a narrow side street near the river, but thatâs far from the truth. Especially when he finds himself in a particular exhibit that centers around emotional realism and reinterpretations of Renaissance intimacy. Very pretentious, very dramaticâexactly the kind of thing Hyunjin likes.
Art just feels easier right nowâsafer. And the weather outside further proves that point.
He moves slowly through the rooms, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants while soft instrumental music plays overhead. There arenât many people here, surprisingly, despite a few tourists and a few groups of what appears to be university students sketching sculptures in their notebooks. Hyunjin figured that once the rain hit people would be pouring in here to escape it, but he was thankfully proven wrong. He prefers it this way.
He walks further down, his shoes lightly tapping against the floor, pausing at a massive oil painting. Itâs depicting a man kneeling waist-deep in dark water beneath a giant golden sky. His eyes study it for a moment before drifting down to read the plaque, mouthing out the words salvation through suffering to himself. His eyes flicker back up to the painting, head tilting slightly as he traces every single detail before deciding that it seems just a tad bit dramatic. In his professional opinion, (which should be taken with a grain of salt), people tend to romanticize suffering too much. If someone is drowning, maybe they should be helped instead of allowing it to happen and calling it beautiful.
But thatâs just his opinion.
He snaps a quick picture of it, sending it to the group chat before slowly walking into another room. More oil paintings line the walls in massive frames, all revolving around grief, isolation, longingâhuman suffering presented beautifully enough that has something pulling deep in his chest. He stays where he is for a second longer, studying each piece thoughtfully until his eyes drift down to focus on the reflection staring back at him through the glass protecting the painting. And although the reflection staring back at him appears familiar, thereâs something distant there.
Hyunjin barely recognizes himself at times. Heâs not the same guy he once was when they first debuted, full of passion and determination and life. As the years went on, the weight of everything got heavier on his shoulders, and he was stuck in a constant loop of exhaustion. Itâs not that he hates his jobâhe loves his fans, the members, and performing more than anything. But he just hates that he has to feel so miserable sometimes when heâs supposed to be doing something he loves.
Even now, thereâs some moments where he catches himself feeling strangely disconnected from the version of him everyone knows. Heâs heard it allâthe idol, the visual, the beautiful dramatic one. People think they know him because they constantly consume bits and pieces of him on a screen, but thatâs exactly thatâthey think.
He doesnât even remember the last time heâs went live. He used to be more active, going on random Instagram lives and sending numerous texts and pictures off Bubble. But lately, he hasnât had the energy too. It feels performative, in a way, but everything is performative in his world.
He just wishes he could stop being what people want him to be and not care what people say about it.
Most days, he feels like a collection of carefully selected fragments pretending to be an actual person. Therapy helps. Medicine helps. Having a good support system helps. But sometimes, itâs not enough, and he needs to do things for himself to help clear his head, like take a however month long hiatus and do a solo trip to Italy.
Maybe thatâs why he likes Italy so much. Maybe thatâs why he likes art galleries so much. Nobody here expects anything from him.
Hyunjin tears his gaze away from his reflection, stuffing his hands back into his pants pocket before heading towards the next room. This one focuses on fractured intimacy. Thereâs paintings of lovers facing opposite directions, hands nearly touching but never quite reaching, bodies close physically but emotionally miles apart. He feels it instantly because, unfortunately, he understood this kind of distance too well.
He moves on before the feeling settles too deeply.
Hyunjin drifts through the next room half-focused, his thoughts scattered all over the place. One second heâs thinking about sketching, another second heâs thinking about finding another small restaurant near the river tonight. Heâs thinking about anything, desperately trying to distract himself from the heavy feeling in his chest. Heâs thinking about anything, until he can no longer think at all.
His entire body comes to an abrupt stop, like something inside him physically locks. The room suddenly feels colder, the weight on his shoulders grows heavier, and he feels like he might pass out on this sleek marble flooring.
At the far end of the gallery stands a woman beneath soft overhead lighting. Sheâs wearing a yellow dress with a cream-colored raincoat, dark curls falling over one shoulder, hands gripping onto the strap of her purse as she studies a painting in front of her.
For one second, Hyunjinâs brain refuses to process what heâs seeing, not because he doesnât recognize her, but because he does instantly. In fact, every nerve ending in his entire body recognizes her before logic can even catch up with him.
No. Thereâs absolutely no way that she is standing a few steps away from him right now, at an art gallery in Italy. There is absolutely no way.
His brain scrambles for even more explanations, as he mentally talks himself out of a panic attack that may or may not be brewing. Lots of people have curly hair and a round face. Lots of people give off the exact same aura. He just drank too much wine at lunch, and thatâs why heâs currently hallucinating her standing in front of him. Yeah, that must be it.
Only it isnât. Because before he could even blink, she had shifted just slightly, now giving him a perfect view of her face, confirming what he already knew was true.
Y/N.
Somehow, she looks exactly the same, yet completely different all at the same time. Her hair is shorter than he remembers, darker than he remembers, falling down to her shoulders. Sheâs wearing minimal makeup, yet sheâs still naturally so pretty, staring at the painting in awe. Gold rings line her fingers, catching the light in the room. She looks more mature, more settled into herself, and Hyunjin is suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that heâs currently ogling at a very much real Y/N in the middle of a very much real art gallery full of very much real people.
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit.
His heartbeat slams violently against his ribcage, and he has to remind himself to breathe so he doesnât actually pass out. He closes his eyes briefly, shaking his head back and forth before opening them again, his eyes widening once he realizes that heâs not hallucinating and sheâs still painfully real, standing in front of him again after four fucking years.
And god, sheâs still beautiful. The kind of beautiful that sneaks up on him before he can even emotionally defend himself.
He feels rooted to his spot, gawking, staring, still trying not to pass out. She doesnât move for a second, and Hyunjin thinks he has to be hallucinating her, only for her to shift a little closer towards where heâs standing, and then reality comes back.
A quiet shriek escapes his mouth as he instantly steps behind one of the marble columns near him, shielding his view from her. He stands there for a second, breathing heavy, his stomach flipping so hard that it actually makes him dizzy.
This is insane. Actually insane. Itâs been four yearsâfour years of zero contact, of living lives in two completely different worlds, and somehow, seeing her for less than twenty seconds already feels catastrophic to his nervous system.
He pushes his back against the column, shifting himself so heâs more hidden. He feels calmer now that he canât see her anymore, but that only lasts for five seconds before heâs peaking around the column again just to see that sheâs still there. Sheâs still there, still looking at paintings, still completely unaware sheâs currently ruining his emotional stability from thirty feet away.
Hyunjin knows he should leave. He should just turn around, pretend he didnât even see her, and leave. That would be the normal thing to do, the healthy thing to do. But instead, he stays frozen exactly where he is, watching her, noticing every single movement and detail about her, just like he did when he saw her for the first time four years ago.
He notices the way she shifts her weight while sheâs thinking. He notices the tiny line appearing between her brows while reading the plaque beside the painting. He notices the absentminded way she tucks her curls behind her ear. He notices everythingâand it feels so unfair.
How can four years disappear instantly like that? How can his body remember someone this much after so much time apart?
He remembers her so vividly that itâs actually insane. He remembers her voice, her scent, her smile. He remembers how calm he felt around her, how right it felt being near her. He remembers how she sounded calling out his name as he made her cum on his cock.
His chest aches suddenly. Heâs torn between a constant battle of leaving or following her until he may or may not develop the confidence to actually approach her. His mind screams at him to leave, the red flags going off in his head. But Hyunjin had never listened to himself in the first place, so why would he do that now?
He leans his head over to catch another glimpse of her, his eyes widening as he sees her walking into the next room. Panic shoots through him instantly, and before he could even blink, heâs already following her, hiding behind another large column.
He peaks over, noticing that she stops before another enormous painting. He doesnât even bother to look at which one, his interest in all the art surrounding him diminishing instantly. Heâs way too distracted by the fact that Y/N is real, standing ten feet away, breathing the same air as him for the first time in years.
His heart pounds harder the longer he keeps watching her. He should walk up to her and say something, and not keep hiding behind European architecture like a fucking stalker. He should, but he canât.
What if she feels nothing for him now? What if she doesnât want anything to do with him? What if she rejects him?
He canât do it. He just canât.
A large group of tourists suddenly moves in front of him, blocking his view from her completely. Hyunjin shifts immediately, trying to keep her in sight, feeling a surge of panic flow through his body as he searches the room. It feels like forever when everything finally clears, his shoulders relaxing instantly. Yet that didnât last long, as he desperately tried to find her, only to realize that sheâs gone.
âNo, no, no,â He mumbles to himself like an insane person, moving quickly into the adjoining room, his eyes scanning faces in panicked desperation, hoping one of them was hers.
He moves into another hallway. Nothing. He begins circling rooms twice. Nothing.
He runs his fingers through his hair, feeling his stomach drop. Somehow, losing sight of her after finding her again feels devastating already, and it makes him feel insane. Maybe if he would stop being a fucking coward all the time and actually went up to talk to her whenever he first saw her, he wouldnât be here searching the gallery pretending he isnât searching the gallery.
He had to have hallucinated her. There was no way that she disappeared that quickly, like she just disappeared into the walls like a fucking ghost. He definitely would have seen her from how quick he rushed into the nearby rooms looking like a mad-man. Heâs surprised they didnât kick him out.
Hyunjinâs face suddenly heats up in embarrassment. Why did he allow himself to act like that in public? At an art museum, of all places? Over a girl he fucked four years ago?
Except she wasnât just an insufficient fuck, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Sure, the sex was amazing, but that was also part of the problem. It was so amazing that itâs quite literally ruined everyone else for him, and part of him is bitter for that. Thereâs no denying how compatible they were sexually, but it was also emotionally. And thatâs whatâs been fucking with him the most.
Hyunjin runs his fingers through his hair again, taking a deep breath before pulling his phone out to text his driver heâs ready to leave. Normally, he would spend all day at an art museum, but right now he thinks he just needs to go back to his hotel and contemplate his entire life.
The rain falls steadily outside by the time he steps out of the museum. He didnât bring a coat today, didnât really think he would need one. But just like his emotions are all over the place, so is the weather here, apparently.
He spots his driver waiting for him, leaning against the car with an umbrella over his head. Hyunjin hurries over towards him, jogging through the rain, not even phased at how wet he seems to be getting. Honestly, itâs kind of nice, somewhat cooling his skin and helping his body calm down.
He gets into the back seat quietly. His clothes are sticking to his skin now, his hair falling in front of his forehead in damp waves. He combs it back once before slouching back in the seat, turning his head to watch the rain drops slowly falling down the window.
He tries not to think about her, he really tries. But his mind ends up going there anyway, replaying the scene over and over in his head like a broken record that just wonât stop playing.
She looked so beautiful. Her skin looked perfectly sun-kissed, eyes still so blue and hypnotizing, hair so pretty and soft. He couldnât see her body well from the raincoat she had on, but he just knew the pale yellow dress would be hugging her so perfectly and have him falling to his knees immediately.
Itâs wild how deeply she still affects him even after all this time apart. They spent one night together, yet it felt like he had known her his entire life. Maybe thatâs why it hurt so much when he had to let her go.
Hyunjin was always a private person, introverted at best. He always kept to himself, never opening up to anyone first unless he trusted them, which was why when he found himself opening up to Y/N, it terrified him.
It still terrifies him, because he knows if he could see her again, heâd fall in even deeper.
He tries to focus on the rain again. He distracts his mind by counting the raindrops on the window, making mental bets on which raindrop would fall firstâanything to prevent his mind from spiraling.
That doesnât last long, though. Because as soon as he steps into his hotel room and strips off his wet clothes, heâs already plopping down onto his bed with a dramatic groan before grabbing his phone.
Chan answers the call after two rings.
âWell, well. Florence finally bored you?â
âI think I hallucinated Y/N in an art gallery.â
The words came out so fast and so frantic that Hyunjin wonders for a second if Chan actually understood what he said in the first place. He bites his bottom lip softly, nervously tapping his fingers against his chest. The silence is so loud he pulls his phone away just to make sure he didnât accidentally hang up.
âWell, good evening to you, too.â
Hyunjin rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling, âIâm serious. Iâm starting to go insane because I keep thinking about it.â
âLike, you actually saw her?â
âI mean, I think so,â Hyunjin replies quickly, another groan falling from his lips as he pinches his temple with his fingers, âI donât know if I actually did or not. Thatâs whatâs frustrating me.â
Chan immediately starts laughing, and Hyunjin narrows his eyes even though he canât see him, âStop laughing at me! Iâm literally spiraling right now and youâre making fun of me!â
âIâm not making fun of you, Hyun,â Chan replies through another fit of laughter, much quieter this time, âIt just sounds a little crazy, is all. Like what do you mean you think you saw her? Walk me through it.â
Hyunjin drags a hand down his face. This is giving him a headache already. âI was looking at paintings.â
âMhm.â
âAnd then I saw this girl.â
âIncredible start.â
âShe turned around, and I swear to fuck it was her,â He breathes out, feeling his heart race a little just thinking about it again, âNow that I think about it more, Iâm certain it was her. And holy fuck, she was beautiful. I feel like Iâm losing my mind right now.â
Chan exhales slowly through the phone, and Hyunjin feels a little embarrassed at what he just said, but whatever. He canât take it back now. âThatâs⊠strange.â He replies after a few more seconds of Hyunjin mentally freaking out, only adding on to that feeling.
âStrange?â He laughs incredulously, âChan, I literally forgot how to breathe for a second. Iâm still trying to catch my breath.â
âOkay, so you saw Y/N,â Chan spoke, voice softer, âThen what? You went and talked to her?â
âWell⊠not exactly,â He replies, already dreading this conversation because he knows Chan wonât be able to live this part down, âI kind of hid behind the giant columns and watched her from afar. And then I kind of followed her around the gallery. Kind of.â
Chan bursts out into laughter again, the sound so loud that it had him wincing as he pulled the phone away from his ear. âHyunjin⊠you fucking idiot! Please tell me you did not just stalk this poor girl in a contemporary art gallery.â
âI panicked!â He defends himself, poorly, might he add, as the laughter on the other end only seems to be getting much worse, âIâm not good at this shit, okay?! She was looking at art so prettily! Thatâs intimidating!â
âThatâs the most pretentious thing youâve ever said.â
Hyunjin falls back onto the pillows behind his head with a loud groan, âI think something is deeply wrong with me.â
âYeah,â Chan agrees quickly through another chuckle, causing him to glare at the screen, because why is he agreeing with him? âWe established that years ago, unfortunately.â
Despite himself, Hyunjin laughs weakly, his eyes trailing over towards the rain-streaked windows. Part of him had always secretly wondered whether she carried their ending around the same way he did. Maybe she didnâtâmaybe she healed properly while he kept romanizing unfinished things.
I guess heâd never know that because he couldnât bring himself to go talk to her.
âShe looked really good,â He admits quietly, watching the rain patter softly against the window, âShe looked⊠so pretty. Just like I always remembered.â
Chan hums knowingly, âYouâre an idiot. And youâre screwed.â
âI know.â
He listens to the rain for another second before a thought suddenly comes to mind. He sits up immediately, âWait.â
Chan sounds suspicious already, âWhat?â
âYou still talk to Kat.â
Heâs quiet on the line, and Hyunjin hates how he can feel his heart beating even louder against his chest. âI do,â He drawls the word out, already seeming to know where this is going.
âAsk her if Y/Nâs in Italy.â
More silence. And thenâ
âOh my god.â
Heâs laughing again, and Hyunjin grunts into the phone in annoyance, running another hand through his hair, âChan, Iâm serious! Text her right now and ask her if sheâs in Italy.â
âHyun, you do realize how insane youâre acting right now, right?â Chan chuckles in disbelief, âYou havenât seen this girl in four years and now youâre spiraling in an Italian luxury hotel because you think you saw her admiring paintings. You sound lovesick.â
Hyunjin presses both hands over his eyes, âHyung, please. When do I ever ask you for favors?â
âAll the fucking time, actually.â
âPlease!â
Chan sighs dramatically over the line, âFine. This is humiliating for you, you know that?â
âI know.â
âYou couldâve just spoken to her and not stalked her like a fucking creep.â
âI know,â He swallows thickly, âYou donât understand.â
âNo, I understand perfectly, actually. Youâre terrified.â
That shuts Hyunjin up instantly. Because unfortunately, itâs true.
Heâs terrified of rejection. Heâs terrified of indifference. Heâs terrified of discovering heâs carried this thing around for years only to realize she let it go completely.
And where would that lead him?
Chan sighs again after a few moments, âIâm texting her right now, okay?â
Relief floods through him embarrassingly fast, âYouâre the best, Channie baby.â
âEw, donât call me that.â
Hyunjin laughs quietly, a giddy feeling rising in his body once he hears Chan typing on his phone over the line. Heâs 99.9% sure she was Y/N, but having a verbal confirmation from her best friend would just be the icing on top of the fucking cake. If he gets confirmation that sheâs actually in Italy, maybe he wonât feel so insane about it.
Another idea hits him all of a sudden, and heâs putting Chan on speaker before swiping out of the call, his fingers working fast to click on the Instagram app. Heâs clicking on the search bar before he can think any better of it, typing in a username that he remembers from years ago when he first found her account, only hoping she didnât change it.
His eyes light up instantly once he realizes she didnât. And then heâs clicking on her profile.
âWhat are you doing?â Chanâs voice startles him for a second.
âNothing.â He replies quickly, guiltily. His eyes widen once he sees her first post, and he wastes no time in clicking on the picture so he can see it better.
He heart falls into his ass once he sees it.
âOh shit,â He breaths out, gawking at her most recent photo from a day ago. Itâs a thread, a collection of ten pictures, the first picture being of her smiling in front of Brunelleschiâs Duomo.
âOh, shit,â He says again, because what else can he say?
âOh my god,â Chan says knowingly, âAre you stalking her right now? Seriously?â
âItâs public information,â He defends himself weakly, swiping through the rest of the post. Pasta, wine, a picture of a stray cat resting on a bench, another selfie. He stares at that one a little longer, unable to stop himself.
God, sheâs so fucking beautiful. His heart hurts.
âThatâs exactly what stalkers say.â Chanâs voice interrupts his thoughts, and he ignores him, quickly exiting out of that post to glance at the rest of her profile.
Coffee shops, books, Kat, (lots of Kat), the gym, weddings, yet thereâs no engagement posts or anything that hints that she has a significant other. He hates how relieved he is from that.
Something about seeing pieces of her life condensed quietly into photographs makes his chest ache. She kept existing this entire time, but somehow, he never let himself imagine it clearly.
Heâs clicking on one of her highlight reels she posted titled âItaly đźđčâ before he can stop himself. And his heart is falling into his ass once again.
The first one is of a window from a coffee shop while the rain pours outside. The second is of a piece of artwork from a different gallery he didnât recognize. And the third⊠the third is a mirror picture she took of herself, wearing the exact same outfit he just saw her in. Her coat wasnât on, showing off her curves so perfectly, the dress hugging her just right. It looked so pretty against her skin, her smile sending shivers down his entire body.
Holy fuck.
âHoly shit,â He covers his mouth with his hand, the raining pouring down harder now.
âWhat now?â
âSheâs here,â He strains out, his heartbeat climbing, âShe is literally here. In Florence.â
âYep, she is.â He replies, but before Hyunjin can ask what he means by that tone, his phone is binging with a text from Chan. Itâs a screenshot of a string of texts. He opens it quickly.
Chan: Random question
Chan: Is Y/N in Italy rn?
Kat: why
Chan: Hyunjin thinks he saw her and now heâs acting mentally unstable
Kat: OH MY GOD
Kat: WAIT, ACTUALLY????
Chan: Yep. He hid behind a column, apparently. Embarrassing đł
Hyunjin groans immediately, âSeriously?! Why would you tell her that?!â
âBecause it was funny.â
âIt was not! Youâre evil!â
âIâm correct.â
Another screenshot comes through, and Hyunjin mentally prepares himself before he opens it.
Kat: sheâs in florence, rn
Kat: sheâs been going to art galleries all week too, lol
Chan: That is horrifyingly romantic
Kat: donât encourage him
Hyunjinâs stomach flips again. He really could run into her again. The possibility alone sends nervous energy rushing through him immediately, but things are different now. Now, heâs older, more established, with more freedom to do what he pleases. For the first time in his career, choosing someone wouldnât automatically be impossible. And somehow, the universe drops Y/N directly into Florence while heâs finally at a point in his life where he maybe can choose her properly.
The timing feels cruel. Or maybe hopeful. He genuinely canât tell.
âYouâre being quiet.â
Hyunjin stares at her profile again, âIâm just⊠processing. I canât believe sheâs actually here.â
âYeah,â Chan hums in response, âKat said sheâs there for another week.â
Hyunjin blinks, âAnother week?â
He hears Chan curse silently over the line, and his eyes narrow, âIt seems you know entirely too much information.â
âI do not.â His response is quick.
âYou literally know her travel itinerary.â
âOkay, now thatâs a little dramatic. Letâs simmer down.â
Hyunjin lets out a quiet scoff, pointing at the phone accusingly, âYou and Kat are scheming, arenât you?â
âWe are absolutely not.â Again, another quick reply.
âI think youâre full of shit. Shitty shit shit.â
Chan sighs dramatically, and Hyunjin can just see his eyes rolling, âOoookay. Maybe Kat mentioned she was doing a solo trip to Italy months ago.â
âMonths ago,â He repeats the words, nodding his head slowly, âAnd then, somehow, I end up in Italy at the same exact time?â
âWell, when you put it that wayâŠâ
Hyunjin flops backward onto the bed, groaning dramatically, âI hate all of you. Especially you.â
âNo you donât.â
Unfortunately, thatâs true.
His phone pings again with yet another screenshot. He sighs, knowing heâs about to be embarrassed again, but opening it anyway.
Kat: wait, does he like her???
Chan: Catastrophically so
Kat: omg I KNEW IT
Chan: Heâs currently staring at her Instagram profile in silence like a widow in a period drama
Kat: donât let him scare her, omg
Chan: Too late, he already hid behind a column
âYou are unbelievable!â Hyunjin chokes out, completely mortified.
This is ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. And yet, underneath all the teasing and embarrassment and panic, hope starts blooming somewhere dangerous inside him. For the first time in years, Y/N doesnât feel unreachable anymore, and he wants nothing more than to finally grab ahold of her.
His thumb hovers over the message button on her profile. He hesitates for a second, biting the inside of his cheek. The rain falls even harder outside, and heâs distracted by the sound for a split second before his thumb inches closer.
âChan?â
âYeah?â His reply is instant. He hesitates again, but only for a second.
âIf I message her right now⊠is that insane?â
âMaybe,â He replies after a few seconds, and Hyunjin swallows thickly, âDo you want my actual opinion?â
Hyunjin doesnât answer. The silence is answer enough.
âYouâre in Italy to take a break from everything. Youâre there to do things you enjoy, escape reality for a bit, clear your head, rest. Youâre there to take care of yourself,â He speaks slowly, softly. The room grows very still around him, save for the relaxing sound of the rain thatâs doing very little in quieting down his head right now.
Hyunjin swallows thickly, his eyes focused on Y/Nâs smiling face illuminating quietly on his phone screen, his thumb still hovering.
âBut, I think if you leave Italy without trying to talk to her, youâre going to regret it for the rest of your life. You wanted to choose her years ago,â Chan exhales softly through the speaker, his fingers twitching in front of him, âAnd now, nobodyâs stopping you except for yourself.â
The bathwater has gone lukewarm, but Y/N still doesnât move.
Florence at night still feels like itâs holding its breath outside her hotel window. The rain is still tapping lightly against the glass, pulling her more into a euphoric calm that sheâs been longing to experience for a while now. Itâs quieter than New York in a way that almost feels wrong, like the world forgot to keep moving.
Three days ago, she arrived in Italy alone. Normally traveling alone in a foreign country would terrify her, but Italy has always been on her bucket list and she was in desperate need of a long break. And by long break, she means an entire summer off she barely knew how to use in the first placeâan entire summer off from fluorescent ceilings, trauma alerts, and the constant low hum of the ER.
She had told herself this trip was about rest, but rest is a loose concept when your entire nervous system has been wired to anticipate chaos. Even now, immersed in bath water with a shit ton of lavender scented bubbles, her body still feels half-alert, like sheâs just waiting on someone to call another code. Yet, instead, the only thing calling her right now is her memory.
And Hyunjin. Of course.
Y/N lets out a sigh, leaning her head back against the porcelain behind her. She hadnât meant to think about him this much in Florence, but museums do that to her. Thereâs just too much beauty in one place, and it all leads back to him.
Earlier today, she stood in front of a Renaissance painting for an uncomfortably long time. Not because she was trying to understand the meaning behind the painting, but because it made her think of him. She could picture him standing there, his hands tucked into the pocket of his pants, his head tilted to the side as he studied every single detail. She knew he loved art, and he loved to create his own. And every time he would post one of his works on social media, it had her heart warming instantly.
He was so talented, in every way, shape, and form.
At first, she used to look forward to his posts, even having her notifications on so it would alert her whenever he posted. Seems excessive and a little stalker ish, she knows, but she was holding on to every little thing about him, desperate to connect with him, in some way. Even if that was through his artwork he posted on social media for millions of people to see.
She admits she did that for a few months before convincing herself that it was unhealthy behavior. Constantly pinning after an idol who was completely unattainable was unhealthy behavior. And she had to stop it before she buried herself deep into a flunk sheâd never get out of.
She stopped listening to Stray Kids. She stopped outwardly supporting them. She stopped following them on all social media, and even canceled her Bubble subscription. It was all just a constant reminder of what she had with him, which was one, insignificant night where she came around his cock twice and then laid in bed with him afterwards like it meant everything.
And it did mean everything. It still means everything, no matter how hard she tries to convince herself otherwise. That was the problem with Hyunjin. He made everything feel like it mattered more than it shouldâeven silence, even absence.
Y/N shifts slightly in the bath, staring at the condensation slowly sliding down the glass. Itâs been four years since that night she spent with him, four years since Hyunjin became real and not a fantasy version of a man she projected meaning ontoâjust him.
She still remembers thinking this canât actually be happening. Even now, she canât believe it had actually happened. Because even then, she had been a fan, a Stayâthe kind that knew too many music video details and had once argued online about dance formations like it mattered personally.
Hyunjin had been her ult bias. The word feels childish now, but it was true then. She had known his face before she knew his voice, known his stage presence before she knew how softly he spoke when he wasnât performing. And then somehow, he had ended up in her world, in her bed, fucking her like he owned her just to tell her he couldnât choose her.
She didnât expect him to. But that doesnât mean she didnât want him to.
Y/N closes her eyes in the bath, sighing softly. It had messed with her for a while, but she eventually moved on, where she learned to separate emotion from action so effectively that sometimes she worries she might never fully turn it off.
It worked, mostly, but the human brain is not a system that respects change. Hyunjin didnât stay in the past like she expected him to. He stayed in the quiet moments between shifts, on nights when she got home too late and the apartment felt too big, on subway rides when she had nothing else to think about, and stupidly enough, when someone in passing mentioned k-pop.
Thatâs when it came back. And even now, lying in a bubble bath in Italy, she finds herself thinking about him again.
Her phone buzzing on the toilet seat beside her makes her jump, knocking her out of her thoughts. She wipes her hands off with the towel hanging up beside her before leaning over, seeing that Kat was currently calling her. She smiles, answering the call and putting it on speakerphone before slouching back into the bathtub.
âHey.â
âThere she is!â Katâs voice booms through the phone, always so bright and cheery, âMy Italian girl. Professional eater of pastries.â
âI had one pastry today,â She rolls her eyes, shifting a little in the bath, the water sloshing around her lightly.
âYeah, key word, today. Tomorrow youâll probably have about five more.â
âI think youâre just jealous that youâre not getting any.â
âVery true,â She sighs. Y/N laughs softly, sinking deeper into the bath, the back of her head getting wet. âHow are you doing, my girl?â
âHm, kind of tired right now,â She admits softly, running her hands against her thighs, moving the bubbles around, âI walked like 20k steps today. My feet hurt so fucking bad.â
âIâm so glad Iâm not there to massage them for you. Canât bribe me with Taco Bell tonight.â
âI could fuck up ten cheesy roll-ups right now.â
Kat laughs, and Y/N lets herself relax into the sound, twirling the bubbles around with her fingers. Itâs quiet for a second after that, but the silence is comfortable. Itâs always comfortable with her. Kat is one of the few people who still makes her feel like her life isnât split into before and after versionsâeven if sheâs always known too much, even if sheâs always been suspiciously good at reading between lines Y/N never explicitly drew.
âSooo,â She drawls out suddenly, her tone shifting just slightly. Y/Nâs body reacts before her brain does, and she narrows her eyes at the phone still sitting on the toilet seat. That tone is never good.
âNo.â Y/N says immediately.
âI didnât even say anything yet!â She quickly defends herself.
âYou didnât have to.â
Kat laughs in disbelief, âYou always do that thing where you act like you can predict my thoughts.â
âBecause I can.â
Kat sighs on the phone, and Y/N knows thatâs whatever is about to come out of her mouth isnât going to be good. âIâve been texting Chan today,â She finally admits, and Y/N stills slightly.
âOoookay,â She replies, a little confused as to why sheâs telling her that, âYou talk to him most days. Why are you telling me that?â
Itâs quiet again, uncomfortable, this time. Too uncomfortable. Sheâs about to ask the same question again when Katâs voice stops her.
âHe mentioned something interesting.â
She tenses up even more, goosebumps forming on the back of her neck despite the warm water surrounding her, âOkay. Thatâs super vague and I donât like it.â She hates it, actually.
âHeâs in Europe.â She blurts out suddenly.
âWho?â Y/N asks, still confused and slightly on edge, because why is she making this so dramatic? âChan? Why are you telling me this, Kat?â
âNo, not Chan. Hyunjin.â
She blinks, wondering where this conversation is headed, âOkay. Thatâs nice for him. Europeâs big, you know?â
âI know geography, thank you very much,â Kat scoffs in fake annoyance, âHeâs in Italy. Hyunjin is in Italy.â
Y/N sits up completely in the bath now, the bubbles falling down her chest. Her heart felt like it was about shoot right out of her chest. Hyunjin is in Italy? At the same time that she is?
Kat has known everything without technically knowing anything for four straight years, which is honestly terrifying. Y/N had never explicitly said that her and Hyunjin had hooked up, partly because of the NDA, but mostly because whatever existed between them had always felt strangely sacred, like exposing too much would ruin it completely. But Kat had figured it out anyway, probably because Y/N had cried over one man exactly once in her entire life.
And unfortunately, it was very obvious which man that was.
âAnd?â She squeaks out, trying to appear unaffected when sheâs anything but.
âAnd nothing,â Kat replies lightly, but thereâs something underneath it now, âItâs just⊠very interesting timing, is all.â
âThis is ridiculous,â Y/N laughs out lightly, shaking her head as she forced herself to relax back into the bath.
âSure.â
âIâm not going to run into him, if thatâs what youâre getting at.â
âSure.â
âKat.â She calls her name, an edge to her voice. Her phone suddenly goes off again, and she sighs, leaning over to glance at the screen, fully expecting Kat to be screenshotting her a thread of texts or an article about it or something.
Her entire body goes rigid once her eyes land on the notification displayed across her lock screen.
Instagram. DM request. From hynjinnnn.
For a second, Y/N genuinely thinks sheâs imagining it. That exhaustion just finally caught up to her in Italy and her brain decided to hallucinate the one person capable of psychologically ruining her from a whole other continent.
Katâs still talking through the speaker on her phone, but Y/N isnât comprehending anything sheâs saying, hurriedly clicking on the notification and going straight to his profile, just to confirm itâs actually him.
It is. Of course it is. And somehow, it makes this ten times worse.
Her thumb hovers over the request, then she presses accept before she can overthink it too much. The first message loads instantly.
hyunjin: Hi.
It was simple, too simple. Y/N blinks at the message, once, twice, and then thereâs more popping up almost immediately.
hyunjin: This is either a terrible idea or fate, and I genuinely canât tell
hyunjin: I think I saw you at the Uffizi earlier today. And if it was really you⊠I donât think I can pretend this never happened anymore
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