Erase Me From Your Memory.

𑁍ࠬܓ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( stray kids )

❛ In which the members of Stray Kids navigate the world of fatherhood without you.

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 4.4k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This request was absolutely devastating to write, thank you! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N has passed away, each member is a single father still in love with you, mentions of grief, some of the kids fall under the LGBTQ+ community.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

방찬 ── BANG CHAN.

Chan's office was bathed in the soft, amber glow of the desk lamps, casting a warm yet somber light across the room. The gentle hum of the night time silence was broken only by the rhythmic, soothing breaths of his three-year-old daughter, who lay peacefully on the worn leather couch. Her tiny face, so serene in slumber, was a haunting mirror of your beautiful features, stirring a profound ache in Chan's heart.

As he watched her, tears began to silently trace their way down his cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of his sorrow and longing. He could still hear your final, trembling words: "Love her twice as much in my absence." The memory was a dagger, twisting with the relentless guilt and grief that had become his constant companions. The sight of his daughter's innocent face, so reminiscent of you, only deepened his anguish.

Today had been especially trying. Chan had promised his little girl a joyous outing to the park, a precious respite from his hectic work schedule. But the day took an unexpected turn when Changbin called in a panic, frantically searching for the nearly completed recording of their latest song. What Chan had hoped would be a swift resolution morphed into hours of desperate searching, only to end in the devastating realization that they would have to begin the recording anew.

All the while, his daughter’s patience wore thin. She had no toys, no distractions, just the suffocating boredom of waiting. Her disappointment was palpable, a silent reproach that cut deeper than any words could. Chan felt like he was failing her, failing in the promise he had made to you. Driven by the need to make amends, he gently woke his daughter. Her initial crankiness gave way to curiosity as he apologized for breaking his promise and proposed a sleepover at home. Movies, games, a fort, and endless cuddles — her eyes sparkled at the thought, and her frown dissolved into giggles.

At home, they transformed the living room into a magical fortress of pillows and blankets, a sanctuary just for them. They watched animated tales, played games, and reveled in the simple joy of being together. Wrapped in the cozy embrace of their fort, she eventually succumbed to sleep once more, nestled against him. Her hair, a tousled mess, and a small trail of drool on his shirt were endearing reminders of her tender age and boundless trust in him.

Chan held her close, his heart swelling with love and a bittersweet yearning. She was the living embodiment of his heart, and as he gazed at her, he whispered a vow into the stillness of the night. He promised to love her with all his might, carrying the weight of both his love and the part of you that would forever reside in their lives. In that quiet moment, amidst the echoes of his promises, he felt a fragile sense of peace, knowing that as long as he held her, he was keeping your memory alive.

이민호 ── LEE MINHO.

Minho lay in the dim, soft glow of his bedroom, shadows whispering across the walls as the twins slept peacefully beside him. Their tiny forms had claimed your side of the bed, filling the void where your presence once brought warmth and comfort. The night he returned home with the babies, he had attempted to sleep alone, but the emptiness was unbearable. He tossed and turned, haunted by the silence, until one of the babies began to cry, inevitably waking the other. In his desperation to soothe them, he gathered every pillow he could find, crafting a makeshift crib in his bed. Their delicate features softened in the calm of his presence, and they finally drifted off to sleep.

As Minho gazed at their angelic faces, hands entwined even in slumber, his heart ached with the weight of your absence. How could he begin to process this loss? You had spent almost ten months nurturing these little miracles, only to be taken away before you could revel in the beauty of their existence. Ten months of creating life, and you would never witness the serene way they held hands in their sleep. Ten months of dreams and hopes, and you would miss their first birthdays, graduations, weddings. It was unbearably cruel, and Minho’s soul was tormented by the thought.

You wouldn’t even be here to laugh about the pregnancy mix-up that had both of you convinced it would be a boy and a girl, only to welcome two beautiful baby girls into the world. His friends had offered to stay and help, but he had declined, needing the solitude to grapple with his grief. Now, in the stillness of the night, he questioned if he had made the right choice.

Tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks as the full weight of his new reality settled over him. He was to raise these precious little princesses on his own, and the responsibility felt crushing. Yet, as he watched their peaceful slumber, he knew he had to summon every ounce of strength for them. They were his world now, the living, breathing remnants of your love. He vowed to cherish them, to love them fiercely, and to guide them through life with unwavering dedication, for they were all he had left of you, and he was all they had.

In the hushed silence, he whispered promises into the night, pledging to be the best father he could be. He would ensure they knew how deeply you loved them, even if you couldn’t be there to tell them yourself. And as he held them close, feeling the rise and fall of their tiny chests, a fragile peace washed over him. He knew that in every laugh, every tear, and every milestone, you would be there in spirit, guiding him, loving them, always.

서창빈 ── SEO CHANGBIN.

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the park as Changbin and his 13-year-old son sat on a weathered wooden bench, savoring their ice cream. The park buzzed with the laughter of children, their joy mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves in the summer breeze. Parents lounged on the grass, basking in the last light of day, while Changbin watched his son’s face light up with a blush as he received a message.

Changbin couldn’t resist teasing him. "Who’s got you smiling like that?" he asked, his voice laced with playful curiosity.

His son’s cheeks reddened further, and he looked away, trying to hide his smile. "Just a girl from school," he mumbled, glancing at his phone. "She texted to congratulate me on today’s soccer game."

Changbin’s interest was piqued. "A girl, huh? Do you like her?" he inquired gently, but his son just rolled his eyes, keeping his thoughts to himself.

After a while, his son broke the comfortable silence with a question that took Changbin by surprise. "Dad, how did you know Mom was the one for you?"

Changbin's heart swelled with a bittersweet mix of love and nostalgia. He took a deep breath, the memory washing over him like a tender wave. "Well," he began softly, "it was before you were born. Your mom and I had only been dating for a few months. One evening, we decided to take a ride on my motorcycle to grab some food. On the way back, she spotted a bookstore and got all excited. She tapped my shoulder and pointed it out, her eyes sparkling like a child's. I couldn't say no to that."

He smiled, lost in the memory. "We stopped, and I handed her my card, telling her to get whatever she wanted. She promised she’d come out empty-handed, but I knew better." He chuckled, remembering your sheepish yet triumphant expression as you emerged with a bag hidden behind your back. "She ended up buying two books and couldn’t stop talking about them, her excitement contagious. When I told her I was glad she found something, she did this little dance of joy before climbing back onto the bike. She had to hold the bag since her backpack was already stuffed with our food, but she was too happy to care."

Changbin’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. "That’s when I knew she was the one. It wasn’t some grand gesture; it was her pure joy in the little things, her passion for life. I wish you could have known her. She loved you so much, even before you were born."

His son’s eyes mirrored his own longing and admiration. "I wish I’d known her too," he said softly. "My goal in life is to find my soulmate, like you found Mom. I want to love someone as much as you loved her."

Changbin’s heart ached with pride and sorrow. "You deserve to have someone by your side for a long time," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added, "Who knows, maybe this girl from school is your one."

His son groaned, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he nudged Changbin, causing his ice cream to topple onto the ground. Changbin laughed, a deep, hearty sound that echoed through the park. His own ice cream slipped from his grasp, joining his son’s on the pavement, and they both burst into laughter, the joy of the moment a soothing balm to their hearts.

In that golden hour, surrounded by the simple pleasures of ice cream and shared memories, Changbin felt a profound sense of peace. Despite the heartache and loss, he and his son would continue to find love and joy in the little things, just as you had taught him. And in those moments of laughter and connection, he felt your presence with them, a silent guardian watching over their journey, smiling at their shared happiness.

황현진 ── HWANG HYUNJIN.

Hyunjin sat alone in the dimly lit room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden hue over the familiar surroundings. The air was thick with memories, each piece of furniture and every stroke of paint a testament to the love and labor he had shared with you. His heart ached with a bittersweet nostalgia as he looked around, his mind filled with the echoes of laughter and the whispers of cherished moments.

He remembered the countless hours spent building the furniture, the frustration and triumph mingling as he struggled with stubborn screws, while you sat nearby, reading the instructions with a patience that never failed to calm him. The nursery walls, painted in a tapestry of happy themes, bore the marks of your combined artistic talents, creating a sanctuary for the new life you both awaited with eager anticipation.

The night he returned home with the baby, your absence a gaping void beside him, was etched into his soul. He had sat in the rocking chair, the one he had bought especially for you, cradling the fragile bundle in his arms, paralyzed by the fear of being alone. Many nights, he had dozed off in that chair, too afraid to leave its comforting embrace, haunted by the silence that your departure had left behind.

A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the day he found your child drawing on the walls, their tiny hands busy creating a colorful mural over your delicate paintings. It had pained him to see your work altered, but the sight of their concentrated little face, so much like yours, had softened his heart. He had chosen to let them be creative, to express themselves freely, even if it meant sacrificing a piece of you.

He thought of the time his six-year-old had cried in his arms, their tiny body trembling with confusion and hurt because they didn't fit in with the boys or the girls. Hyunjin had held them close, whispering reassurances, his heart breaking at the familiar pain. It had been a long journey, but he had worked tirelessly to make their home a sanctuary of love and acceptance.

The memories came in a flood, each one a cherished gem: the summer in middle school when they returned home with bags of new clothes and put on a fashion show, proudly displaying their androgynous style; the pride parade, where he meticulously placed sticky rainbow gems on their face, their giddy excitement lighting up the day; and finally, the day they graduated and moved out, leaving behind an empty room filled with the ghosts of the past.

Tears rolled down Hyunjin’s face as he sat in the rocking chair, now old and creaky, thinking of all the moments he had cherished yet wished he could have shared with you. The weight of the memories pressed down on him, a heavy, inescapable burden.

Suddenly, his phone rang, startling him from his reverie. He hastily wiped his tears and saw it was a FaceTime call from his child. He answered, and their beaming face filled the screen, the excitement in their eyes mirrored by the twinkling fairy lights in their new apartment's bedroom.

“Hey, Dad! Look at my new room!” they exclaimed, panning the camera around to show off their new space, their voice bubbling with pride and joy.

Hyunjin’s heart swelled with pride and love. “It looks amazing, sweetheart,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I miss you,” they confessed, their eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can we spend the first night together, through the phone?”

Hyunjin chuckled softly, trying to mask his lingering sadness. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of moving out?”

They laughed, a sound that was pure and unfiltered joy. “Maybe, but I know you’re in my old room crying already.”

He laughed too, the heaviness lifting just a bit. “You got me there.”

They didn’t hang up, staying connected through the screen as the night deepened. Hyunjin lay back in the rocking chair, his child propped up in their new bed, both finding solace in the familiar presence of each other. As they talked and laughed, Hyunjin realized that though you weren’t physically there, your spirit lived on in these moments, in the love that continued to bind them together. And for now, that was enough.

한지성 ── HAN JISUNG.

Jisung found his seven-year-old child hidden within the treehouse that the three of you had built together. This small wooden sanctuary, once filled with laughter and joy, now bore the heavy weight of sorrow. They were still in their funeral attire, the black clothes contrasting sharply against the soft glow of the setting sun. The murmurs of the guests lingering in the backyard became a distant, indistinct hum as Jisung climbed into the treehouse, his heart burdened with grief and a simmering anger at the universe for taking you away so cruelly.

His son's youthful face was etched with a grief that seemed too profound for such a young soul. Jisung felt a surge of helplessness as he reached out, pulling his child close, wrapping him in an embrace meant to shield him from the cruel world outside. “I miss Mom,” came the soft, heart-wrenching whisper, each word a dagger to Jisung’s already shattered heart.

“I miss Mom too,” Jisung murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears. They sat together in silence, the weight of your absence pressing down on them like an insurmountable force.

It had been nearly a year since you had fallen ill, the sickness so severe that the doctors had given you only a few months at most. Yet, you had defied their grim prognosis, your spirit burning brightly despite the frailty of your body. Jisung remembered the countless nights spent by your side, swallowing his fears and anger as you spoke of your impending death with a calm acceptance that had always made him furious. To him, it felt as though you had given up, but he knew deep down that wasn’t the case. You hadn’t wanted to waste what little time you had left fighting an unwinnable battle. Perhaps if he had truly listened, if he had embraced those fleeting moments instead of railing against them, he might have cherished your final days more deeply.

His son, too young to fully grasp the concept of death, struggled with the finality of it all. He understood that you would never return, yet accepting it was a different matter entirely. Jisung’s heart broke anew each time he saw the confusion and sorrow in his child’s eyes, a mirror of his own torment.

Holding his son tighter, Jisung wished he could find the right words to ease the pain, to make sense of a world that had suddenly lost its light. But words failed him, crumbled under the weight of their shared grief. Instead, he let the silence speak, hoping the strength of his embrace could convey the love and comfort his words could not.

The treehouse, once a symbol of their shared joy, now held their sorrow. The walls, which had echoed with laughter and dreams, now seemed to absorb their pain, standing as silent witnesses to their loss. But within this small, sacred space, surrounded by the memories of happier times, Jisung hoped they could begin to heal. He would be there for his son, a steadfast presence in the storm of their grief, guiding him through the darkness with a love that, while tested, remained unbroken.

As the last light of day faded, Jisung held his son close, both finding a semblance of solace in each other’s presence. In the quiet, grief-stricken aftermath, they began to forge a new bond, one tempered by loss but strengthened by their enduring love. And in that silent communion, Jisung found a glimmer of hope that they would eventually find their way through the darkness together.

이용복 ── LEE YONGBOK.

In a home where the relentless energy of three young girls and their single father painted every day with hues of joyous chaos, peace was a fleeting visitor. The air thrummed with the symphony of exuberant laughter, the vibrant discord of simultaneous chatter, and the relentless rhythm of youthful exuberance. Yongbok would never trade this tempestuous world for anything, yet a hollow ache lingered for the presence of the one who had been the steady heartbeat of their lives.

Your sudden departure had cast a profound shadow over their once lively abode, transforming it into a quieter realm where your laughter’s echoes were replaced by an oppressive silence. As time wove its delicate fabric over the jagged edges of grief, the house gradually adjusted to a new cadence, yet the weight of your absence hung heavy in every corner.

Despite this, Yongbok discovered fragments of you embedded within the fabric of their daily lives. He saw your essence in the selfless nurturing of his eldest daughter, who had seamlessly stepped into the role of co-caregiver. Her quiet acts of love and responsibility were a poignant echo of the devotion you had always shown, a continuation of your spirit in her every gesture.

In the middle child’s vibrant monologues about obscure topics, Yongbok glimpsed your enduring influence. Her unquenchable thirst for knowledge mirrored the intellectual curiosity you had nurtured, each passionate explanation a living testament to your legacy.

The youngest, with her mischievous gleam and boundless spirit, kept Yongbok perpetually on his toes. Her playful antics and joyful mischief were a vivid reminder of the vivacity you had infused into their home, a living echo of the light you had brought into their lives.

In the quiet moments, Yongbok could still feel your presence. The post-it notes left in his lunch bag by his eldest daughter, each inscribed with a simple message of love, were imbued with your warmth. The tender strokes of his middle daughter’s fingers through his hair during their movie nights were a silent connection to you. And in the gentle inquiries of his youngest, her head peeking around the door to ensure he was alright, he felt the deep compassion you had instilled in her.

Though you were absent from the milestones and daily rhythms, your essence lived on through them. In the small, tender acts of affection and love, you continued to be a cherished part of their lives, an enduring presence in their hearts.

김승민 ── KIM SEUNGMIN.

Seungmin had been absent through the vast expanse of your pregnancy, the relentless demands of touring keeping him away. He returned just in time to witness the birth, only to be swallowed by the crushing weight of your absence. The pain of missing those precious moments with you, of not being there to share in the miracle of your last days, was a wound that never healed. This haunting regret followed him, a constant reminder of a future lost.

The day you passed, Seungmin left Stray Kids, unable to bear the weight of the stage without you by his side. He couldn’t find solace in the bright lights or the rhythms of his music. Instead, he focused on his two sons—an older one, now sixteen, and a younger one, now twelve. The older boy, once a vibrant spirit, had retreated into the shadows of his room, his once lively demeanor replaced by a sullen silence. The baseball games that had once bound them together now lay abandoned, and Seungmin, despite the storm within, knew he had to reach out.

Determined to bridge the chasm that had grown between them, Seungmin planned a day just for the two of them. He left the youngest with his closest friend, Jeongin, and took his older son out. The car ride was a quiet procession of unspoken thoughts, the weight of their shared grief hanging heavily between them. When they finally arrived at their destination, Seungmin braced himself, ready to face the tender fracture of their relationship.

It took patience, but eventually, the silence broke. The older boy revealed his feelings for a boy at school, emotions that he struggled to understand. Seungmin was taken aback, but he remained calm, his heart aching with a blend of surprise and concern. As his son’s tears fell freely, Seungmin pulled him into a tender embrace, his own heart aching with a mixture of empathy and love. He whispered reassurances into his son’s hair, promising acceptance and protection, vowing to stand by him no matter what.

The boy, still tearful but comforted, then showed Seungmin a small journal. Inside was a song he had penned, a poignant melody woven with the threads of his conflicted feelings for the boy at school. The song was hauntingly beautiful, a reflection of his son’s delicate soul and burgeoning talent. Seungmin’s heart swelled with pride and love as he listened, recognizing the echoes of his own musical spirit in his child’s creation.

As the day drew to a close, Seungmin received a snapshot from Jeongin—his youngest child, covered in dirt and beaming with the joy of a day spent playing baseball. The image was a burst of pure happiness, a vivid reminder that even amidst the sorrow, moments of light and joy persisted.

As the sun set, Seungmin felt a renewed connection with his older son, a fragile yet precious bond rekindled through their shared experiences and heartfelt conversation. Though the regret of not being there for you lingered, he found solace in the fact that he was striving to be the father you would have been proud of. In the quiet moments of the evening, he hoped, with all his heart, that wherever you were, you watched over them and felt a deep pride in the man he was becoming—a father striving to honor your memory through the love and strength he gave to your family.

양정인 ── YANG JEONGIN.

Jeongin’s youngest daughter was a restless spirit, her stubborn yet carefree nature a constant reminder of the love she once shared with you. Each burst of laughter, every defiant flicker of joy, was a living echo of your vibrant presence. In contrast, his oldest son was a mirror of Jeongin’s own meticulous nature, his life meticulously ordered, each ambition carefully planned.

Lately, Jeongin’s heart had been heavy with worry. His daughter, brimming with reckless exuberance, frequently dashed off to meet a boy Jeongin knew was unworthy. The thought of her entangled with someone without a future gnawed at him, leaving him adrift in a sea of concern. As he lay awake at night, the silence seemed to taunt him, and he often found himself wondering how you would have navigated these troubled waters if you had still been there to guide them.

One night, as the moonlight spilled softly through the window, Jeongin was wrenched from sleep by the unmistakable sound of muffled sobs. His heart raced as he followed the cries to his daughter’s room. He paused at the door, the murmur of his son’s voice cutting through the silence. The room, once a sanctuary of dreams, was now a cocoon of whispered regrets and stifled tears. His daughter’s voice wavered with the weight of her shame, confessing her feelings of foolishness for having trusted the boy. His son, with a soothing calmness that mirrored your gentle strength, reassured her that she wasn’t foolish, merely swept up in the exhilarating tide of young love. He told her she deserved better than a boy with no future, his words a soft balm to her wounded spirit.

Jeongin’s heart ached with a mixture of pride and sorrow as he heard his son’s comforting tones, the echoes of your nurturing spirit resonating in his voice. After a few moments, he gathered the courage to step into the room. His eyes were tender with understanding as he took in the scene: his daughter’s tear-streaked face, her hands buried in her lap. Her cries grew louder as she saw him, her embarrassment palpable as she shielded her face with her hands.

Jeongin knelt before her, his expression a blend of love and compassion. Gently, he reached for her hands, drawing them away from her face to hold them in his own. His touch was a lifeline, a silent promise of unwavering support.

“You told me so, I know,” she choked out, her voice a trembling whisper.

“I would never say that, my love,” Jeongin murmured, his voice rich with tenderness. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close against his chest. His gaze met his son’s, a shared understanding passing between them.

“I know it hurts,” Jeongin whispered into her hair, his voice a soothing melody against her ear, “but this isn’t the end.” His embrace was a warm cocoon, a sanctuary of love amidst the storm of her emotions. The night unfolded in a delicate tapestry of comfort and hope, a testament to the enduring love that bound them together, even in the quiet absence of your guiding presence.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Post taglist: @bowsnbang @nothinginterestingtoshowhere

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

( 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 ): Release Date: Posted!

──── * ˚ ✦ ECHOES OF US ( stray kids )

❛ After a painful breakup, you and Jeongin struggle to maintain a civil front for your mutual friends, but when he accidentally calls you by your old pet name, unresolved emotions resurface, forcing you both to confront the lingering feelings between you.

𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )

𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.5k~

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This is sort of still a work in progress, but really it just means that I have to finish writing the ending of the final draft before finally moving on to proofreading. Since this is my first official long-fic (a story for a single member that's over 10K), I thought it might be fun to announce it now and see who's interested! This was anonymously requested! (Anon, I'm sorry it took me a hot minute to finally finish this, but I hope I made up for it with how long it ended up being 🫠) Reblogs for this teaser are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of sibling death and grief, very brief mention of a dysfunctional home, brief explanation of sibling death, Y/N's sibling has their own name, mentions of being abandoned, heartbreak, awkward re-encounter after almost a year, discussions on mental health, a whole lot of angst, comforting ending.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

Want to be alerted when I post this? Let me know in the comments so I can tag you!

hi! can i req enha (ot7) reaction to falling in love with idol!reader at first sight?

Hi! Thank you so much for being my very first Enhypen request! I had so much fun while working on this, and it turned out a lot longer than I originally intended it to be but I hope you enjoy it!

──★ 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔

choose what you want to read!

ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🦇 ‘till forever falls apart 𓂅 ໋⋅

‧₊° pairing. han jisung x idol!fem!reader

‧₊° content warnings. han deals with a lot of anxiety and depression. reader has fibromyalgia. constant mention of being in pain. love-making. cussing. lots of angst. more to be added.

‧₊° rating. 18+

‧₊° summary. in which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms.

EDIT: It’s in progress! Click on the title to read!

ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🌅 i can’t change 𓂅 ໋⋅

‧₊° pairing. bisexual!lee felix x male!reader

‧₊° content warnings. abuse, violence, homophobia conversion therapy, angst, mlm relationship, drug use (nothing too heavy, drinking, running away, smut, anal sex, blow job, rimming, fingering, semi-public sex

‧₊° rating. 18+

‧₊° summary. humanity was simply not made to reach the glorious sky without needing to return to the ground, this is a simple fact that both felix and y/n needed to learn one way or another. still, when each glance gets you drunk with a feeling you’d never quite experienced before, you can’t help but risk everything for his affection.

ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🏫 the only exception 𓂅 ໋⋅

‧₊° pairing. student!seungmin x student!fem!reader

‧₊° content warnings. brutal attack and kidnapping. death is mentioned a lot in different ways. neglectful parent. plot twist.

‧₊° rating: 16+

‧₊° summary. after her mother gets suddenly kidnapped right before her eyes, and her father didn’t seem to care enough, y/n embarks on a mission to save her mother with a strange boy from school to help along the journey.

reblog to spread the word!

Gosh 🥹🥹 you’re so kind thank you so much for reading 💕

💻 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( enhypen )

❛ In which you’re the idol and they’re your fanboys.

𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 12.8k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ You guys should know that I am a firm believer that these boys would be so dorky if they weren't idols — well, dorkier than they already are, honestly. This piece was requested by a lovely Anon! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! Please enjoy! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N is an idol, the members of Enhypen are your fanboys finally getting you to acknowledge their existence one way or another, it's all just very cute honestly, Jungwon and Riki don't meet you in person but they still lose their minds over it, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

All of the members are found below the cut!

이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG.

Heeseung sat at the edge of his bed, the dim light casting a gentle glow upon his contemplative figure. His fingers, delicate yet reverent, traced the edges of the well-worn scrapbook that lay open before him. This cherished volume, a tapestry of memories meticulously compiled over the years, held within its pages a mosaic of his unwavering admiration. It brimmed with a kaleidoscope of photographs, clippings, and handwritten notes, each piece meticulously documenting the journey of his favorite idol—none other than you.

He recalled the precise moment when his world had been irrevocably altered. It was on the eve of your debut, and there, amid the swirling anticipation and the haze of his youthful excitement, your voice had first reached his ears. It was a sound both ethereal and powerful, a melody that wove itself into the very fabric of his being. From that instant, Heeseung was ensnared by the magnetism of your presence. He had watched, spellbound, as you evolved from a burgeoning talent into a celebrated artist, each phase of your journey captured and immortalized within the pages of his scrapbook.

Tonight was imbued with a sense of magic and anticipation that seemed almost palpable. Heeseung, a dreamer in the truest sense, had finally managed to secure a coveted ticket to your fan meeting—a wish he had harbored fervently since the inception of his admiration for you. The moment was the culmination of countless hopes and whispered promises to himself.

As he navigated his way through the bustling streets toward the venue, his heart danced with a symphony of excitement and nervous energy. Each step felt like a step toward a long-awaited destiny, a convergence of past dreams and present reality. The evening air was crisp, carrying with it the faint murmur of fellow fans, their voices mingling in a harmonious chorus of shared anticipation.

Clutching his treasured scrapbook tightly, as though it were a talisman of his devotion, Heeseung took a steadying breath. The pages within were a testament to his journey alongside yours, a journey now culminating in this singular, momentous occasion. He joined the serpentine line of eager fans, each person a reflection of his own fervent longing, all awaiting the cherished moment when they would come face-to-face with you.

The room vibrated with a palpable energy, a living, breathing entity fueled by the collective enthusiasm of the gathered fans. Conversations swirled like a vibrant tapestry of shared experiences and heartfelt recollections, each voice contributing to the rich symphony of admiration that filled the air.

In this dynamic atmosphere, Heeseung, a seasoned devotee whose affection for you had long been unwavering, naturally assumed the role of storyteller. His presence was a comforting beacon for the newer fans, a guide through the labyrinth of your artistic journey. With an air of gentle authority, he began weaving tales of your early days, his voice imbued with a warmth that spoke of deep, personal connection.

He unfolded his beloved scrapbook with reverent care, revealing its pages one by one. Each page was a canvas of nostalgia, adorned with a mosaic of photos capturing the essence of your first performance, the raw, unguarded moments during concerts, and the newspaper clippings that chronicled your ascent to stardom. The images told a story of transformation and triumph, each snapshot a frozen moment of time that illustrated your remarkable rise. As Heeseung shared these treasures, his eyes sparkled with the joy of reminiscing, his words painting a vivid portrait of your evolution that captivated the newer fans, drawing them into the rich tapestry of your shared history.

When the moment arrived for Heeseung to finally meet you, his heart pounded with a fervent rhythm, echoing the excitement that surged through his veins. As he stepped forward, the world seemed to narrow down to the singular focus of your radiant presence.

You looked up from behind the table, your eyes brightening with a warm, welcoming smile that seemed to illuminate the room. The recognition in your gaze was immediate and profound, as your eyes fell upon the familiar scrapbook cradled in his hands. The tender acknowledgment in your expression conveyed an unspoken connection, bridging the gap between your storied past and this intimate, cherished encounter.

"Hello," Heeseung began, his voice carrying a steady confidence that belied the fluttering butterflies in his stomach. The words emerged with a sincere warmth, as if each syllable was carefully crafted to convey the depth of his feelings.

"I’m Heeseung," he continued, offering a small, genuine smile. "I’ve been a devoted fan since your very debut." His gaze lingered on you, revealing in his eyes the unwavering admiration and respect that had grown with each passing year.

Your eyes traveled over the scrapbook, a look of genuine awe and recognition crossing your face. The corners of your mouth lifted in an appreciative smile as you took the cherished book from Heeseung’s hands.

"Wow, Heeseung, this is truly incredible," you remarked, your voice infused with admiration. You began to gently turn the pages, each delicate motion revealing the meticulously curated moments of your journey. "You've captured every detail with such care," you continued, your fingers brushing over the images and notes. The sincerity in your tone spoke volumes, reflecting not only your gratitude but also the profound impact of his devotion.

Heeseung nodded, a proud and heartfelt smile unfolding across his face. The expression was a testament to his deep appreciation and respect for you, his admiration evident in every line of his features.

"You’ve been an immense source of inspiration to me," he began, his voice rich with emotion. "Witnessing your growth and the way you've triumphed over challenges has been a beacon of hope during my own difficult times. I wanted to ensure that other fans could share in that journey as well." His words carried the weight of genuine gratitude, reflecting the profound impact your perseverance and success had on his life.

You lifted your gaze from the scrapbook, your eyes meeting his with a depth of sincerity that spoke volumes. The warmth in your expression was a gentle reflection of the gratitude swelling within you.

"Thank you, Heeseung," you said softly, your voice imbued with heartfelt emotion. "Your support means more to me than words can express. It's dedicated fans like you who make all the effort and hard work truly worthwhile." The weight of your words hung in the air, a testament to the profound connection between an artist and the cherished individuals who help sustain their passion.

As you delicately signed your name on the scrapbook, Heeseung felt a surge of gratitude and profound fulfillment wash over him. The ink of your signature seemed to crystallize the moment, transforming his dreams into a tangible reality.

Meeting you and hearing those heartfelt words had surpassed even his most cherished aspirations. The realization that his steadfast support had made a meaningful impact on your journey was a treasure he would hold close to his heart. It was a moment of deep resonance, one that would linger with him as a cherished memory, a testament to the power of unwavering devotion and connection.

As Heeseung exited the venue, a radiant smile stretched across his face, one that seemed to capture the essence of his joy. The thrill of the evening lingered like a warm embrace, and he found himself buoyed by a sense of deep contentment.

He knew that his commitment to supporting you would remain steadfast, unwavering through every trial and triumph. The thought of sharing your story with new fans and enriching his cherished scrapbook with fresh memories filled him with a profound sense of purpose. The acknowledgment of his dedication had bestowed upon him a moment of rare significance—one that he would hold dear, a luminous beacon of inspiration to treasure for a lifetime.

박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG.

Jay fidgeted with his earbuds, delicately positioning them as he allowed your music to wash over him, a soothing cascade of sound that enveloped his senses. The anticipation in the cool night air was palpable, a faint electric hum that seemed to dance through the crowd gathered outside the concert venue. Each note, each lyric was a comforting balm as he stood in line, his excitement palpable and nearly tangible.

He had waited for this night with bated breath, the days leading up to it marked with eager anticipation and a fervent excitement that had grown since he first secured his ticket. The prospect of witnessing your live performance was a thrill that had consumed him for months. Jay was not the kind of fan to lose himself in fervent adoration; rather, he embraced a more laid-back dedication. His passion manifested in the quiet diligence of streaming your songs and videos, ensuring that your place atop the charts remained steadfast.

His dedication went beyond mere listening; it extended to the art of maximizing streaming efforts. Jay found a certain joy in sharing his knowledge, guiding fellow fans on how to elevate their own streaming practices. For him, each play and each view was a small, yet significant tribute to your artistry, a testament to the role he played in the symphony of your success.

The anticipation in the crowd was almost electric, a current that seemed to weave through the throngs of eager fans, sparking whispers and hushed conversations. Jay, however, exuded an aura of tranquility, his outward calm a stark contrast to the vibrant energy that rippled around him. Beneath his serene exterior, his excitement simmered, a deep well of anticipation that kept him composed.

As the doors to the concert venue finally swung open, it was as if a collective breath was held, only to be released in a surge of movement. Jay stepped forward with purposeful strides, navigating the sea of enthusiastic fans until he reached his seat. It was perfectly positioned, offering an unobstructed view of the stage where the night’s magic would soon unfold.

The atmosphere inside was a palpable buzz of exhilaration, a harmonious blend of voices and laughter that filled the space with a symphony of excitement. Fans exchanged gleeful glances and shared snippets of their own anticipation, their voices blending into a crescendo of collective joy. The air was thick with the promise of the performance to come, and Jay, nestled in his prime spot, allowed himself to bask in the electric ambiance, savoring the moment before the music began.

As the lights in the arena dimmed, a hushed reverence fell over the crowd, a moment suspended in breathless anticipation. The first ethereal notes of your opening song began to ripple through the space, a delicate wave of sound that immediately swept Jay into its embrace. The thrill of excitement surged through him like a living pulse, a vibrant crescendo that was both exhilarating and profound.

Experiencing you live was a revelation, an intoxicating contrast to the solitary pleasure of streaming your videos at home. The raw energy of the performance, the sheer magnetism of your presence on stage, transformed the music into a living, breathing entity that resonated deep within him. Jay was no longer just a spectator; he was an integral part of the spectacle.

He became fully immersed in the experience, his voice blending seamlessly with the chorus of fellow fans, each note of the song drawing him further into the enchanting world you created. His lightstick, a beacon of glowing color, moved rhythmically in tandem with the sea of lights around him, a pulsating testament to the collective euphoria that enveloped the arena. The moment was a symphony of sight and sound, a vivid tapestry of emotions that made every second of the performance a cherished memory in the making.

Halfway through the concert, the rhythm of the performance paused, giving way to a moment of intimate connection between you and your audience. As you took a breath and glanced out across the sea of faces, your eyes shimmered with a depth of gratitude that seemed to light up the entire arena. The energy of the crowd seemed to pulse in response, a living, breathing testament to the bond you had forged with your fans.

You spoke to them with heartfelt sincerity, your voice imbued with warmth as you thanked everyone for their unwavering support. Each word you uttered was like a gentle caress, weaving through the crowd and touching each individual. Jay, standing amidst the throng, felt a profound swell of pride well up within him. It was a quiet but powerful emotion, knowing that his contributions, however modest, had played a role in this vibrant celebration of your success.

The moment was a delicate dance of appreciation and connection, a fleeting yet timeless exchange that made Jay's heart swell with a deep sense of fulfillment. In that instant, amidst the shared joy and collective euphoria, he felt an unspoken bond with you and the thousands of other fans who had gathered to share in the magic of the night.

As the concert approached its final moments, the air thickened with anticipation. You began to perform Jay’s favorite song, the one that had become the soundtrack to his own personal journey. As the first notes floated into the air, Jay closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the music. Each melody and lyric seemed to envelop him like a familiar embrace, resonating with the countless hours he had dedicated to streaming this very track.

The music wove through him, a rich tapestry of sound that stirred deep within his soul. It was as though every chord and rhythm had been crafted specifically for him, echoing the joy and dedication he had invested in following your career. The experience was transcendent, a moment of perfect harmony where time seemed to stand still.

When the song reached its crescendo and the final notes gently faded into silence, the crowd erupted in a fervent burst of applause, a collective roar of appreciation that reverberated through the arena. Jay's hands instinctively joined the chorus of clapping, his heart swelling with a profound sense of fulfillment and connection. In that shared moment of jubilation, surrounded by the vibrant energy of fellow fans, Jay felt an overwhelming surge of happiness, a bittersweet reminder of the magical night he had been fortunate to experience.

As the final encore drew to a close and the last notes of the evening faded into the night, the concert hall began to empty, a gradual exodus of reluctant fans leaving behind the echoes of an unforgettable performance. Jay, however, chose to linger, his steps slow and deliberate as he remained in his seat, unwilling to let the magic of the night slip away just yet. The atmosphere, still tinged with the residual glow of stage lights and the faint scent of excitement, seemed to pulse with a gentle reverence.

He took a deep breath, allowing the serenity of the moment to wash over him. For Jay, the night had been more than just an event; it was the culmination of countless hours of support, a testament to his unwavering dedication from afar. Seeing you live had transformed his abstract admiration into a vivid, tangible experience, a realization of the dreams he had quietly nurtured.

The concert had been a symphony of emotions, each moment a brushstroke on the canvas of his devotion. As he looked around at the now-emptying hall, the memories of the evening replayed in his mind like a cherished melody. Jay savored the lingering warmth of the night, a profound satisfaction settling in his heart as he reflected on the incredible journey that had brought him to this perfect, fleeting moment of connection.

As Jay made his way toward the exit, he cast a casual glance toward the stage door, where he noticed a small cluster of fans gathered with hopeful anticipation. Their presence was a quiet testament to the lingering magic of the night. Intrigued, he decided to join them, even though he held no grand expectations. The concert had already fulfilled him in ways he hadn’t imagined, and he was content to leave with the memories of the evening still fresh in his heart.

To his astonishment, the quiet buzz of conversation among the remaining fans was soon interrupted by a burst of excitement. You emerged from behind the stage door, a vision of warmth and grace amidst the dimly lit backdrop. Your face was illuminated by a radiant smile that seemed to capture the essence of the night’s enchantment. You waved at the gathered fans, your gesture a gentle acknowledgment of their unwavering support.

The scene was bathed in a soft, lingering light as you made your way towards the crowd, and Jay's heart skipped a beat. Seeing you in person, so close and so genuine, added a new layer of magic to the evening. The brief encounter, filled with your sincere appreciation and the shared joy of the fans, became a cherished epilogue to the night’s spectacular performance.

Jay's heart fluttered with a sudden surge of excitement as you made your way toward the group, each step drawing you closer in a cascade of anticipation. Your approach was deliberate and gracious, as you took the time to engage with each fan, your presence a radiant blend of warmth and genuine appreciation.

When you finally reached him, the moment seemed to stretch into a beautiful eternity. Jay fought to maintain his composure, though his nerves danced with barely contained enthusiasm. He managed a calm, albeit slightly tremulous, smile as he introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Jay,” he said, his voice steady but infused with an unmistakable hint of awe. “I’m—uh, I’m always streaming your songs and videos. Tonight was incredible.”

His words, though simple, were a heartfelt tribute to the night’s splendor. The sincerity in his tone mirrored the admiration he had carried for so long, and in that fleeting exchange, the distance between fan and artist dissolved into a shared moment of connection and reverence.

You beamed with a radiant smile that seemed to illuminate the space around you, your eyes sparkling with genuine warmth and gratitude. “Thank you, Jay,” you said, your voice soft yet filled with heartfelt sincerity. The words flowed effortlessly, each syllable a testament to the deep appreciation you felt.

Your gaze held a tender, almost ethereal quality as you continued, “I’m truly grateful for all the support. It means so much to know that you enjoy the music and that you’re willing to contribute in such a meaningful way.” The sincerity in your tone and the genuine light in your eyes conveyed a deep, personal connection, making Jay feel as though his dedication had not only been acknowledged but cherished. In that moment, the bond between artist and fan was beautifully reaffirmed, a shared appreciation that transcended words.

Jay felt a profound surge of warmth at your words, a gentle rush of emotion that enveloped him in a cocoon of happiness. The sincerity of your appreciation struck a deep chord within him, igniting a sense of fulfillment that radiated from his core.

“I’ll keep doing it,” he said, his voice imbued with a quiet but resolute determination. “Your music is honestly the best thing to ever happen.” Each word was carefully chosen, a heartfelt declaration of the impact your artistry had made on his life. His statement was not merely a tribute but a promise, a reflection of the deep connection he felt with your work and the unwavering commitment to continue supporting it with all his heart.

You nodded with a graceful, appreciative smile, the gesture accompanied by a soft, melodic giggle that seemed to carry the warmth of the evening. The sound was a delicate, playful note that danced in the air, a reflection of the genuine gratitude you felt.

“Thank you for everything, Jay,” you said, your voice imbued with a tender sincerity. The words flowed with a natural ease, each syllable a heartfelt acknowledgment of his unwavering support. In that moment, the exchange between you was a beautiful blend of appreciation and connection, a shared understanding that transcended the boundaries of the stage and reached into the heart of the evening’s magic.

As you gracefully moved on to greet the other fans, Jay was enveloped by a deep and resonant sense of fulfillment. The concert had been a spectacular crescendo, and the brief, heartfelt interaction with you had imbued the evening with an added dimension of personal significance. It was a reaffirmation of his unwavering commitment to supporting your music, a promise of loyalty and admiration that had been solidified in the warmth of your gratitude.

As he began his journey home, a contented smile lingered on his lips. He slipped his earbuds back in, the familiar comfort of the soft cushion against his ears a prelude to the solace he sought. With a gentle tap, he played your latest song, letting the melodies cascade through him. The music, already a cherished part of his life, now carried an even deeper resonance, enriched by the vivid memories of the night. Each note seemed to echo with the joy and connection he had experienced, weaving the evening’s magic into the very fabric of the music he held so dear.

심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN.

Jake's phone erupted with a relentless flurry of notifications, its screen a tapestry of flashing icons and vibrating alerts. Each buzz was a herald of the burgeoning frenzy surrounding your latest release, a wildfire of excitement that spread across the digital expanse. His fan account, a veritable beacon of devotion, crackled with activity as the news of your new work ignited the fervor of your admirers.

In the realm of social media, Jake was a maestro, orchestrating a symphony of online enthusiasm with meticulous precision. His virtual domain was a haven of vibrant promotion, where he crafted elaborate posts to celebrate your artistry and engaged in fervent discussions to elevate your presence. He was a tireless guardian of your reputation, deftly defending you against any shadow of criticism that dared to cast itself upon your name.

Hours blurred into days as Jake immersed himself in the art of digital advocacy. He meticulously arranged streaming parties that thrummed with collective excitement and mobilized legions of supporters to cast their votes in your favor. Each moment spent was a testament to his unwavering commitment, as he channeled his energy into ensuring that your achievements resonated far and wide.

One serene afternoon, as Jake meandered through his social media feed with a sense of routine calm, a new notification flickered to life on his screen. It was an announcement for an exclusive contest, offering a coveted prize: a chance for fans to meet you in person and partake in a thrilling game during an upcoming interview. The message was a sparkling beacon amidst the digital noise, and Jake's heart leapt in his chest, racing with an exhilarating burst of anticipation.

With a sense of urgency and determination, Jake plunged into action. His fingers danced across the screen as he entered the contest, his movements fueled by a fervent hope and a deep-seated desire. The stakes were high, and he could almost envision the opportunity as if it were a tangible, glittering prize just within reach.

Not content to keep this golden chance to himself, Jake set about rallying his fellow fans with a fervent zeal. He shared the contest announcement across his fan accounts, crafting messages that bristled with enthusiasm and encouragement. His call to action was a clarion cry for participation, urging others to join in and seize the chance to connect with you, as he had. The air was electric with shared excitement, each notification a testament to the collective dream of meeting you in person.

A week later, Jake's phone rang with an unfamiliar number, its jarring ring cutting through the quietude of his day. With a flutter of nervous anticipation, he answered, his hand trembling slightly as he lifted the phone to his ear. On the other end, a voice, vibrant with uncontainable enthusiasm, greeted him with words that sent a shiver of disbelief and elation down his spine: he had won the contest.

The news was a cascade of joy that surged through Jake's veins, electrifying every fiber of his being. His heart pounded in a rhythm of pure exhilaration, and he struggled to hold back the flood of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. As he expressed his heartfelt gratitude to the caller, his mind raced with the thrilling possibilities that lay ahead.

Without a moment's hesitation, Jake rushed to share the incredible news with his online friends. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he crafted messages that crackled with infectious excitement, eager to spread the joy and invite them to revel in his triumph. The virtual space was soon abuzz with celebratory fervor, each message a ripple in the sea of shared elation, as Jake's news became a beacon of collective joy among his fellow fans.

On the day of the interview, Jake approached the studio with a heart that danced between nerves and exhilaration. Each step felt like a journey through a landscape of anticipation, the gravity of the moment settling over him like a shroud of shimmering possibility. Years of dedicated promotion and fervent support had led him to this threshold, and the weight of it all made his pulse quicken with a heady mix of excitement and trepidation.

As he entered the studio, the bustling environment greeted him with a warmth that was both soothing and energizing. The staff, their smiles genuine and eyes twinkling with camaraderie, enveloped him in a welcoming embrace. They guided him through the labyrinth of the studio, their voices imbued with the promise of an unforgettable experience.

Jake listened intently as they outlined the details of the segment, each word painting a vivid picture of what was to come. The centerpiece of the evening was a live game, an interactive moment where he would finally connect with you face-to-face. The thought of sharing this experience with you, after so many years of virtual connection, ignited a thrill within him, and he found himself eagerly anticipating the chance to step into this shared moment of excitement and connection.

As the interview commenced, Jake lingered on the sidelines, his heart thudding with the rhythmic urgency of a drum. Each beat seemed to echo the anticipation that hung palpably in the air. The studio's vibrant energy enveloped him, a whirlwind of lights and sounds that intensified his sense of expectation.

When the moment arrived and the host’s voice rang out, introducing him with a flourish, Jake drew a deep, steadying breath. With a resolve that masked his inner tumult, he stepped onto the set. The audience’s applause greeted him like a warm embrace, their clapping a chorus of encouragement that surged around him, amplifying the thrill of the moment. As he walked forward, the atmosphere crackled with an electric blend of excitement and nervous anticipation, each step bringing him closer to the realization of a long-held dream.

You turned towards him, your face illuminated by a radiant smile that seemed to light up the entire studio. The warmth and sincerity in your eyes made the moment feel suspended in time.

"Hi, Jake!" you greeted him with a cheerful exuberance, your voice carrying a melodic lilt that wrapped around him like a comforting embrace. "It's great to meet you," you continued, your words flowing effortlessly and imbued with genuine delight. The connection in that instant was electric, as if the years of virtual admiration had culminated in this shared, unforgettable moment.

Jake's smile, though brimming with excitement, was tempered with a careful composure. He met your gaze with a mixture of awe and admiration. "Hi," he said, his voice steady despite the flutter of nerves. "I’m a huge fan."

Your response was immediate and heartfelt, a genuine delight shining in your eyes. "Thank you so much for your support," you replied, your voice warm and sincere. "It means a lot." The simplicity of your words was underscored by the depth of emotion conveyed, and Jake felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and joy. In that exchange, the connection between fan and idol transcended the boundaries of screen and stage, becoming a shared moment of authentic appreciation.

The host's voice rang out, rich with enthusiasm as they outlined the rules of the game. It was a lively trivia challenge centered around your illustrious career, a test of knowledge designed to celebrate your achievements. Jake felt a surge of confidence, his pulse quickening with the thrill of the impending challenge. He had immersed himself in every detail of your journey, his knowledge deep and comprehensive.

As the game commenced, Jake's well-honed expertise began to shine through. Each answer he provided was delivered with the assurance of someone who had followed your career with unwavering devotion. Your laughter, bright and infectious, filled the air as you cheered him on. The joy and admiration in your eyes were unmistakable, and it was clear that his dedication and passion had left a lasting impression on you.

As the game drew to a close, Jake emerged victorious by a commanding margin, his triumph a testament to his fervent admiration and meticulous knowledge. The host’s voice rang out with genuine congratulations, the applause from the audience swelling like a wave of collective appreciation.

You stepped forward with a smile that radiated warmth and gratitude. In your hands, you held a signed album, its cover gleaming under the studio lights. As you presented it to Jake, your words flowed with heartfelt sincerity. "You're amazing, Jake," you said, your tone infused with genuine admiration. "Thank you for everything you do." The album, a tangible symbol of your appreciation, was a fitting end to a moment that celebrated both his dedication and your mutual connection.

Jake was overcome by a swell of emotion, his voice trembling slightly with sincerity. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his words imbued with a heartfelt promise. "I'll keep supporting you no matter what." The depth of his commitment was clear, a testament to his unwavering admiration.

As the interview concluded, a brief window of private time opened up between you. The studio, now quieter and more intimate, felt like a cocoon of shared experience. You turned to him with a radiant smile, your eyes sparkling with genuine delight. "I had a lot of fun playing with you, Jake," you said, your voice warm and infused with a touch of playful admiration. "I’m so impressed you beat me." Your words, spoken with genuine appreciation, underscored the camaraderie and connection that had blossomed between you during the game.

Jake’s laughter bubbled up with a sense of deep satisfaction, his heart swelling with fulfillment. "I may or may not run an account or two dedicated to you," he confessed, his voice tinged with playful secrecy. "You’re just such an inspiration for me." His cheeks flushed with a warm blush, a vivid testament to the joy and pride he felt in that moment.

Your smile broadened, radiating a glow of genuine warmth and appreciation. “I really appreciate you, Jake. So much,” you replied, your words like a soothing balm to his eager heart. The sincerity in your voice resonated deeply, making the moment even more memorable.

As Jake exited the studio, his heart brimmed with a sense of completeness. Meeting you had surpassed even his loftiest dreams, and the encounter had only fueled his devotion. With a renewed fervor, he prepared to champion your cause with even greater zeal. On his journey home, he crafted a heartfelt message for his fan accounts, pouring out his gratitude and enthusiasm. He shared the transformative experience with his fellow fans, encouraging them to support you with the same passion and dedication that had driven him all along.

박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON.

Sunghoon adjusted his jacket one last time, meticulously smoothing the fabric as he scrutinized his reflection in the mirror. The jacket, a masterpiece of sleek black with intricate embroidery, was a testament to your signature style from a recent performance that had left a lasting impression on him. Each stitch seemed to echo the haunting melodies of your music, weaving a connection between fashion and art that he found mesmerizing.

He had spent weeks scouring boutiques and online shops, determined to find a jacket that mirrored yours with precise accuracy. The search had been relentless, driven by a deep admiration for both your music and your fashion sense. To Sunghoon, this jacket was more than just an article of clothing; it was a symbol of his dedication and a tribute to the artistry he so deeply respected.

As he fastened the buttons, memories of countless nights spent streaming your songs and watching your performances flooded his mind. The rhythms and lyrics had become a part of him, ingrained in his soul after hours of listening on repeat. Each beat, each note, resonated within him until he could replay them perfectly in his head, as if your voice had become his own inner soundtrack.

The mirror reflected not just his image, but also the transformation he had undergone. In that moment, he wasn’t just Sunghoon; he was a reflection of the music and style that had inspired him, a living homage to the artist he revered. With a final, confident glance, he stepped out of his apartment, ready to carry the essence of your art into the world.

Today was a day unlike any other, a day that held the promise of a dream coming true. Sunghoon clutched the precious ticket to your fan meeting, the golden key to an encounter he had longed for. This rare opportunity to meet you in person set his heart racing with a thrilling blend of excitement and nervous anticipation.

As he made his way to the venue, each step felt charged with electricity. The cityscape blurred around him, the usual hum of life fading into the background as his mind focused solely on the upcoming moment. The fan meeting was more than an event; it was a chance to connect with the artist who had profoundly influenced his world.

In preparation for this special occasion, Sunghoon had meticulously crafted his appearance, choosing an outfit that echoed your style while reflecting his own dedication. Every detail, from the crisp lines of his tailored jacket to the subtle accessories, was selected with the hope of catching your eye. He had spent countless hours perfecting his look, ensuring that it embodied the essence of your artistic vision.

As he approached the venue, the reality of the moment began to sink in. The crowd of fans gathered outside shared his enthusiasm, their voices a chorus of shared admiration. But for Sunghoon, this experience was intensely personal. He felt a connection to you through your music and fashion, and today, he hoped to express that bond in person.

With each passing moment, the anticipation built, his heart pounding in rhythm with the excitement that filled the air. Sunghoon took a deep breath, ready to step into a world where his dreams and reality would collide, where the admiration he held in his heart would finally find its voice.

The venue buzzed with anticipation, a symphony of eager murmurs and shared excitement filling the air. Fans poured into the room, their faces alight with anticipation and joy. Sunghoon navigated through the sea of people, finally finding his seat amidst the throng. He glanced around, recognizing a few familiar faces from social media, their expressions mirroring his own eager anticipation. Yet, despite the familiar faces, his focus remained unwaveringly on the stage, where you would soon make your grand entrance.

The room seemed to pulse with collective energy, the excitement almost tangible as fans shared stories, laughter, and their mutual admiration for you. Sunghoon's heart beat in time with the buzz of the crowd, a rhythm that underscored his own fervent anticipation. He adjusted his jacket, a symbol of his dedication, feeling the fabric against his skin as a reminder of the momentous occasion.

As the lights dimmed and a hush fell over the crowd, the atmosphere thickened with anticipation. Every eye was trained on the stage, every breath held in unison. Then, the curtains parted, and you walked out, a vision of grace and warmth. The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound rising like a tidal wave, enveloping the room in a cascade of adoration.

Sunghoon felt his heart race, the thrill of the moment washing over him. He watched intently as you greeted the audience, your smile radiant and welcoming. The way you moved, the way you carried yourself, it was as if the essence of your music and persona had materialized before his eyes. Every gesture, every word, seemed to resonate deeply with the audience, binding them together in a shared moment of pure connection.

In that instant, as you stood on the stage, Sunghoon felt a profound sense of awe. This was the culmination of his admiration and dedication, a fleeting yet unforgettable moment where the distance between fan and artist dissolved, leaving only the magic of shared experience.

The fan meeting commenced with a lively Q&A session, the air brimming with curiosity and excitement as fans eagerly posed their questions. The room buzzed with the hum of conversation, punctuated by bursts of laughter and applause. Following the Q&A, the atmosphere shifted into a more playful tone with interactive games, drawing the crowd even closer together in their shared joy.

As the event unfolded, Sunghoon's anticipation grew with each passing moment. The rhythm of activities seemed to accelerate, and before he knew it, his turn to meet you arrived, catching him off guard with its swiftness. Rising from his seat, he felt a wave of nervous energy course through him, his hands growing slightly clammy as he approached the stage.

With each step closer, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a mix of excitement and nerves intertwining. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, determined to make the most of this fleeting, yet precious moment. As he ascended the steps to the stage, the world around him seemed to blur, his focus narrowing solely on you.

When he finally stood before you, a breathless anticipation hung in the air. Your eyes lifted to meet his, and a spark of recognition danced within them. The moment your gaze settled on his jacket, your eyes lit up, a warm and genuine smile spreading across your face. The intricate embroidery and sleek design had not gone unnoticed, and the recognition in your eyes sent a thrill through Sunghoon.

The connection was instantaneous, a silent acknowledgment of his dedication and admiration. For Sunghoon, that single moment of recognition felt like a dream realized, a testament to the countless hours spent immersing himself in your music and style. The clammy hands and racing heart were now a backdrop to the profound sense of fulfillment and joy that filled him as he stood before you, basking in the shared glow of a moment that transcended the ordinary.

"Hi, I'm Sunghoon," he introduced himself, his voice carrying a blend of shyness and sincerity. A gentle smile played on his lips as he spoke, the culmination of his admiration and anticipation distilled into this single moment. "I've been a fan for a long time."

Your smile widened, radiating warmth and genuine delight as you leaned in, your eyes twinkling with interest. The closeness allowed you to take in the details of his meticulously chosen jacket. "Wow, Sunghoon," you exclaimed, admiration evident in your tone. "You look so handsome in that jacket! It looks exactly like the one I wore."

Your words were a balm to his nerves, each syllable like a note in a melody he had longed to hear. The recognition and praise in your eyes made his heart swell with a mixture of pride and elation. The jacket, which had become a symbol of his dedication, now served as a bridge between you, connecting his admiration to your artistry in a tangible way.

In that moment, the bustling room seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in a shared bubble of recognition and mutual appreciation. Sunghoon felt a surge of confidence, his earlier nervousness dissipating in the face of your kind words and warm demeanor. The shy smile on his lips grew, reflecting the joy that now filled his heart.

The exchange, though brief, was imbued with a depth of meaning that words alone could scarcely convey. It was a moment of connection, where fan and artist transcended their roles and met as individuals, each acknowledging the other's presence in a world where art and admiration intertwined.

Sunghoon felt a surge of pride swell within him, his earlier nervousness now replaced by a deep sense of connection. “Thank you. Your style is such an inspiration to me. And your music… I listen to it all the time,” he confessed, his voice brimming with genuine admiration.

You chuckled softly, a sound that resonated with warmth and sincerity. “I’m glad you enjoy it. Just make sure to take breaks so you don’t get sick of it, okay?” The gentle teasing in your tone was both comforting and endearing, bridging the gap between artist and admirer.

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions. In that moment, he felt truly seen and understood. “I’ll try. It’s just that your music and style mean so much to me,” he said, his words carrying the weight of countless hours spent immersed in your art.

Reaching out, you patted his shoulder, a gesture of both kindness and acknowledgment. “I appreciate your dedication, Sunghoon. It really means a lot,” you said, your voice imbued with sincerity. The touch was light yet grounding, a tangible connection that left a lasting impression on his heart.

The exchange lingered in the air, a delicate interplay of words and emotions that transcended the ordinary. Sunghoon felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and fulfillment, knowing that his admiration had not only been recognized but also reciprocated. In this brief, beautifully profound moment, the lines between fan and artist blurred, leaving only the pure, unspoken understanding that art, in all its forms, had the power to connect souls.

As you took the photograph and began signing it, Sunghoon felt his nerves gradually settle, the initial flutter of anxiety giving way to a profound sense of calm. The interaction was unfolding in a way that felt far more personal and genuine than he had ever dared to imagine. Each stroke of your pen seemed to bridge the gap between your world and his, transforming a simple autograph into a cherished memory.

When you handed the photo back to him, your smile was radiant and reassuring. “Keep being awesome, Sunghoon,” you said warmly, your voice a soothing balm that enveloped him in a sense of belonging. “And keep sharing your outfits. I love seeing how fans interpret my style.”

The words resonated deeply within him, each syllable a testament to the bond that art and admiration had woven between you. Sunghoon’s heart swelled with a mix of pride and joy, knowing that his dedication and efforts had not only been acknowledged but celebrated. The photograph in his hands was now a symbol of this extraordinary moment, a tangible reminder of the connection that had blossomed between artist and fan.

In that fleeting yet profound exchange, Sunghoon felt seen, appreciated, and understood. Your encouragement was more than just a compliment; it was an affirmation of his own creative expression and a beacon of inspiration that would continue to guide him. As he looked into your eyes, he saw not just an idol, but a kindred spirit who valued and nurtured the shared love of art and fashion.

The room around them seemed to blur, the noise of the crowd fading into the background as the significance of the moment crystallized in his heart. Sunghoon knew that this encounter would remain etched in his memory, a beacon of light and inspiration that he would carry with him always. The photo, now imbued with your words and warmth, became a cherished memento of an experience that transcended the ordinary, leaving an indelible mark on his soul.

Sunghoon’s heart soared as he expressed his gratitude to you, his voice carrying the heartfelt sincerity of the moment. With a lingering glance back at the stage, he made his way down, feeling as though he were floating on a cloud. The rest of the fan meeting passed in a blur, a whirlwind of activities and emotions, yet the memory of your kind words and warm smile remained vivid and bright, etched into his mind like a cherished painting.

Leaving the venue, the night air felt crisp and refreshing, a perfect counterpoint to the warmth that still radiated within him. Sunghoon knew that his dedication had paid off in ways he had never imagined. The acknowledgment and connection he had felt were more profound than any fan could hope for, a true testament to the bond between artist and admirer.

That evening, with his heart still brimming with excitement, Sunghoon carefully composed a post for his social media. He shared a picture of his meticulously crafted outfit, capturing the essence of the jacket that had sparked your recognition. In his post, he recounted the experience, describing the magic of the fan meeting and encouraging other fans to keep supporting you with the same passion and dedication.

As he scrolled through the responses, he felt a renewed sense of connection, not only to your music and style but to you as a person. The fan meeting had given him a deeper appreciation for everything you did, a glimpse into the heart and soul behind the art he so admired. The comments from fellow fans created a tapestry of shared love and admiration, weaving a community bound by a mutual appreciation for your artistry.

Later, as he prepared for bed, Sunghoon queued up your latest song, a soft smile spreading across his face as the familiar melody filled the room. Each note seemed to shimmer with new meaning, each lyric resonating with the experiences of the day. Meeting you had infused everything with a fresh sense of wonder and excitement, rekindling his enthusiasm and deepening his connection to your work.

With the music playing softly in the background, he closed his eyes, feeling a profound sense of contentment. He knew he would never truly tire of your songs; each listen was a journey, a renewal of his unwavering dedication. As he drifted off to sleep, his dreams were filled with anticipation and curiosity, eager to see what you would create next. The fan meeting had not only been a moment of personal fulfillment but also a promise of continued inspiration and support, a testament to the enduring power of art and connection.

김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO.

Seonwoo sat at his desk, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest as he fixated on the countdown timer ticking away on his computer screen. Each passing second brought him closer to a moment he had long fantasized about: a fan call with you, his cherished idol. The anticipation was almost palpable, making the air in his room feel electric with excitement and nervous energy.

His room was a vivid testament to his unwavering devotion. The walls were adorned with an array of your posters, each one capturing a different facet of your career and beauty. Shelves brimming with signed and limited edition merchandise showcased his dedication; every item was a precious relic, carefully preserved and displayed. Even his computer bore evidence of his admiration, filled with meticulously organized folders of your photos, videos, and achievements. Each file represented countless hours spent curating a digital shrine to the person who inspired him most.

As the seconds dwindled, Seonwoo took a deep breath, his eyes wandering over the familiar, comforting chaos of his sanctuary. The posters seemed to smile down at him, offering silent encouragement. The room, once a mere collection of his interests, now felt like a sacred space where his dreams were about to intertwine with reality. His hands trembled slightly, the excitement almost too much to contain, but his spirit soared with the thought that in just a few moments, he would finally get to speak to you, the idol who had unknowingly shaped so much of his world.

When the timer finally struck zero, the screen shimmered to life, and there you were, as if emerging from a dream. Seonwoo's breath hitched in his throat, an almost palpable sensation of wonder coursing through him. Your face, illuminated by a soft, ethereal glow, appeared on the screen, your features radiating warmth and charm.

The sight of you—so vividly present in his world—was almost too incredible to fathom. Your smile, a gentle curve of happiness, seemed to bridge the gap between reality and his wildest fantasies. For a moment, Seonwoo was lost in the magic of it all, struggling to grasp that the person who had inspired his dreams was now smiling directly at him from the other side of the screen.

"Hi, Seonwoo!" you greeted him, your voice ringing with a vibrant cheerfulness that seemed to brighten the room. Your words, imbued with genuine warmth, carried a melodic lilt that made Seonwoo’s heart skip a beat. "It’s wonderful to finally meet you," you continued, your smile expanding to showcase a glimmer of sincerity that made the moment feel all the more magical.

Your presence, though mediated by the screen, was imbued with an inviting aura. The way you spoke, with a natural grace and enthusiasm, created an intimate connection that transcended the digital divide. For Seonwoo, it was as if the space between them had vanished, leaving only the heartfelt exchange and the thrill of meeting the person who had been a beacon of inspiration in his life.

Seonwoo took a deep breath, the weight of his nerves pressing heavily on his chest. He forced a smile, trying to steady the fluttering excitement within him. "Hi!" he managed, his voice a mix of awe and nervousness. "I can hardly believe this is actually happening."

His words tumbled out, tinged with a sincerity that matched the intensity of his feelings. "I'm such a huge fan," he continued, his gaze locked on you, as if trying to memorize every detail of the moment. The sheer enormity of the experience overwhelmed him, but the thrill of finally speaking with you, the person he had admired from afar, was an unforgettable rush that made every anxious flutter worth it.

Your smile broadened, becoming a radiant expression of genuine gratitude. "Thank you!" you said, your voice rich with warmth and sincerity. "I truly appreciate your support."

Your eyes sparkled with a sincere interest as you continued, "How are you doing?" The question was delivered with a gentle kindness that made Seonwoo feel as if your concern extended beyond the confines of the screen. The ease in your tone and the genuine curiosity in your gaze created an atmosphere of intimacy, making the moment feel remarkably personal and heartfelt.

"I'm great now," Seonwoo replied, his voice growing steadier as he began to relax. The initial tremor in his tone gave way to a more composed delivery, his excitement still palpable but softened by a newfound calm. 

"I've immersed myself in every detail of your career and your achievements," he continued, a trace of awe lingering in his words. "I’ve followed you since your debut, watching your journey unfold with a sense of wonder." The depth of his admiration was evident in his gaze, as if each memory of your milestones had woven itself into the fabric of his own life.

"Wow, that's truly amazing!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with heartfelt surprise. A look of genuine emotion softened your features, revealing just how deeply your fan’s dedication resonated with you. Your eyes shone with appreciation, as if the weight of Seonwoo’s unwavering support had touched something profoundly personal within you.

"Your dedication means so much to me," you continued, your tone brimming with warmth and gratitude. With a bright, curious glint in your eye, you leaned slightly forward, eager to engage. "So, what's your favorite song from my newest album?" The question was posed with an earnest interest, inviting Seonwoo to share in the joy of your latest work, and further deepening the bond between you.

Seonwoo's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, his expression lighting up as he spoke. "That's a tough choice," he admitted, his voice reflecting the depth of his admiration. "But if I had to choose, I think my favorite would have to be 'Eternal Echoes.'"

He paused for a moment, choosing his words with care, as if savoring the memories the song evoked. "The lyrics are so profoundly meaningful, each line woven with a resonance that touches the soul," he continued, his tone filled with reverence. "And the melody—it’s simply beautiful. It captivated me completely and struck a chord deep within, making it a song that I find myself returning to time and again."

You nodded with a radiant smile, your eyes alight with genuine pleasure. "I’m so glad to hear that you like 'Eternal Echoes,'" you said, your voice softening with a touch of nostalgia. "It’s actually one of my favorites as well."

A hint of emotion colored your tone as you continued, "I poured a lot of my heart into that song." Your words carried a sense of deep personal connection, as if sharing a piece of your soul through the melody and lyrics. The sincerity in your voice conveyed the dedication and passion you had invested, making the moment feel all the more intimate and special.

Seonwoo cast a thoughtful glance around his room, the vibrant tapestry of his admiration for you spread out before him. Each corner of the space held a cherished piece of memorabilia, a testament to his devotion. He carefully selected a signed album from a neatly organized shelf, its cover shimmering softly in the ambient light.

With a mixture of reverence and excitement, he held it up, his eyes gleaming with pride. "This," he said, his voice tinged with affection, "is one of my most prized possessions." He paused, his gaze lingering on the autograph, a tangible connection to the moment of joy when he had received it. "I was absolutely over the moon when I got your autograph. It felt like a dream come true."

You smiled warmly, a soft glow of genuine affection illuminating your features. "I’m truly glad that it means so much to you," you said, your voice imbued with heartfelt sincerity. The warmth of your smile seemed to envelop the space between you, bridging the gap with an emotional connection.

"It’s fans like you," you continued, your eyes reflecting deep appreciation, "who make everything worthwhile." Your words were a tender acknowledgment, as if you were sharing a secret about the profound impact that loyal supporters have on your journey. The sincerity in your tone and the genuine sparkle in your gaze conveyed just how much you valued the support, making the moment feel exceptionally personal and meaningful.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, like a gentle stream weaving through a lush, verdant landscape. Seonwoo, his initial nervousness now a distant memory, eagerly asked about your creative process, the spark of inspiration behind your work, and the favorite moments that had defined your career.

You listened with genuine interest, your eyes reflecting the depth of your engagement. Each question was met with thoughtful consideration, your answers weaving a tapestry of insights and stories. You spoke of the quiet moments when inspiration struck, the late nights spent perfecting lyrics, and the joyous occasions that had marked your journey. Your voice carried a melodic rhythm, drawing Seonwoo further into the enchanting world of your artistry.

As Seonwoo hung on to every word, his admiration grew even deeper. The exchange was more than just a conversation; it was a heartfelt connection. You expressed your gratitude for his unwavering support, acknowledging how fans like him fueled your passion and drive. The sincerity in your tone made each expression of thanks feel like a precious gift, further cementing the bond between artist and admirer.

As the call neared its end, Seonwoo felt a bittersweet blend of happiness and sadness wash over him. The joy of having spoken to you, his idol, was tempered by the wistful realization that this cherished moment was drawing to a close. His heart swelled with gratitude for the precious opportunity, yet he couldn't help but wish for just a bit more time.

"Thank you so much for this," Seonwoo said, his voice carrying a depth of emotion. "It means the world to me."

Your smile softened, imbued with a gentle warmth that seemed to reach through the screen. "Thank you, Seonwoo," you replied, your words sincere and heartfelt. "Your support and dedication are truly inspiring. Keep being awesome, and I'll keep doing my best for fans like you."

The sentiment lingered in the air, wrapping Seonwoo in a comforting embrace. As the screen dimmed and the call ended, he was left with a lasting impression of your kindness and authenticity, a memory he would treasure forever.

The screen slowly faded to black, and Seonwoo leaned back in his chair, a profound sense of fulfillment washing over him. The virtual meeting with you, even through a screen, had surpassed all his hopes and dreams. He felt a warm glow of contentment, knowing that his dedication had been recognized and appreciated. This acknowledgment fueled his passion, igniting a desire to continue supporting you in every way possible.

With his heart still brimming with emotion, Seonwoo turned to his fan accounts, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. He composed a heartfelt message, pouring out his gratitude and excitement. He shared the experience in vivid detail, recounting the precious moments and expressing his appreciation for the opportunity. The response from fellow fans was immediate and enthusiastic, their shared joy amplifying his own.

양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON.

Jungwon sat anxiously in his living room, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm against the arm of the couch. The soft glow of the television cast flickering shadows on the walls, heightening the anticipation that pulsed through him. Tonight was the night. His heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nerves as he kept his eyes fixed on the screen, waiting for the moment that could change everything.

The variety show, known for its lively and unpredictable content, was airing tonight's episode, and you were the guest star. For weeks, Jungwon had poured his heart and soul into creating the perfect video, meticulously crafting a fun and unique challenge for you to perform. He had spent countless hours brainstorming, filming, and editing, ensuring every detail was flawless. This wasn't just any video; it was a labor of love, a tribute to his admiration for you.

As one of your biggest fans, Jungwon knew every nuance of your career, every highlight and milestone. He admired your talent, your charisma, and the way you brought joy to your audience. This was his chance to connect with you in a way that went beyond the screen, to share a piece of himself and maybe, just maybe, catch your attention.

The minutes felt like hours as he waited, each passing second intensifying the knot of anticipation in his stomach. He imagined your reaction, the possibility of seeing you smile or laugh because of something he had created. The thought filled him with a warmth that chased away some of the nerves, replacing them with a hopeful excitement.

Finally, the moment arrived. The host announced the next segment, and Jungwon's video began to play. His breath caught in his throat as he watched, his heart racing with a blend of fear and exhilaration. This was it—the culmination of his efforts, his passion, and his dreams.

The show began with a burst of vibrant colors and lively music, the kind that set hearts racing with excitement. Jungwon's pulse quickened, each beat echoing the rhythm of the show's energetic theme. As the charismatic host took the stage, Jungwon's grip on the remote tightened, his knuckles turning white.

The host's voice, warm and enthusiastic, filled the room as he introduced the much-anticipated segment where fans could send in challenges for their favorite idols. This was the moment Jungwon had been waiting for, the culmination of weeks of effort and countless hours of perfecting his video. The possibility of his challenge being featured on the show was a dream he had nurtured with care and dedication.

Jungwon's eyes were glued to the screen, his breath coming in shallow, anxious bursts. The room seemed to shrink around him, narrowing his focus to the television as the first fan-submitted video played. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a palpable tension that thrummed through his veins. He could feel the weight of the moment, the delicate balance between hope and uncertainty.

As each video played, Jungwon's heart raced faster, a tumultuous mix of excitement and nervousness swirling within him. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, drowning out everything but the sound of his own rapid heartbeat. The seconds stretched into what felt like hours, each one a step closer to the possibility of seeing his creation on the screen.

Finally, the host announced the next submission, and the screen flickered to life with a familiar scene. Jungwon's heart leaped into his throat as he recognized his own video, the one he had crafted with such care and passion. A wave of emotions crashed over him—relief, joy, and a renewed sense of anticipation. This was his moment, a chance to connect with his idol in a way he had always dreamed of.

"And now, we have a special challenge sent in by a dedicated fan named Jungwon," the host announced with a flourish, his voice resonating with enthusiasm. Jungwon's heart leaped at the sound of his name, a jolt of exhilaration electrifying his entire being. The moment he had been dreaming of was finally unfolding before his eyes.

The screen transitioned smoothly to his video, the familiar sight filling the room with a vibrant energy. Jungwon watched as his own face appeared on the screen, a mixture of excitement and nervousness visible in his eyes. He began to explain the challenge he had painstakingly crafted: a fun and quirky dance routine, a fusion of creativity and admiration. 

In the video, Jungwon's passion was palpable. His voice, steady yet brimming with enthusiasm, described the dance he had choreographed himself. He had meticulously blended some of your signature moves, the ones that had always captivated him, with innovative new steps he hoped you would enjoy. Each move was chosen with care, designed to showcase your unique style while adding a fresh twist that was distinctly his own.

The camera captured his fluid movements as he demonstrated the routine, each step a testament to his dedication and love for your art. He twirled and leaped with a grace that belied the hours of practice and refinement that had gone into perfecting the choreography. The music pulsed through the speakers, its rhythm aligning with the beat of his heart as he danced with abandon.

Jungwon's hope was that this dance, a heartfelt tribute to you, would not only bring a smile to your face but also forge a connection that transcended the screen. He had poured his soul into every movement, every transition, infusing the routine with his admiration and respect for your talent. As the video played on, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and anticipation, knowing that his creation was now in your hands.

As the video began to play, Jungwon's gaze was locked on your reaction. Every subtle change in your expression was a new chapter in the unfolding narrative of his dreams. You leaned forward, eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and amusement that sent a thrill down his spine. "This looks interesting," you said, your smile radiant and infectious. The warmth in your voice was like a melody, and Jungwon's heart swelled with joy.

The camera captured your every move as you rose gracefully from your seat, your demeanor radiating excitement. You positioned yourself with an air of readiness, your body poised to dance. Jungwon could hardly contain his breath, his excitement mounting with each passing second. The anticipation was palpable, a living, breathing entity that filled the room.

As the music began, you mirrored the moves from his video, your movements a blend of elegance and playful energy. Laughter bubbled from your lips as you navigated the steps, your joy evident in every misstep and triumph. The way you tried to get the steps right, each attempt imbued with determination and delight, made the moment even more enchanting.

The audience erupted into cheers, their enthusiasm a resounding chorus that filled the studio. The host, ever supportive, joined in the encouragement, his voice adding to the lively atmosphere. Jungwon felt a surge of pride swell within him, a tidal wave of emotions that washed over him with an almost overwhelming force. 

He watched as you immersed yourself in the dance, your laughter and smiles a testament to the connection he had hoped to forge. Each move you made, every joyous exclamation, was a validation of his efforts and dreams. In that moment, Jungwon's world seemed to align perfectly, his passion and dedication shining through in the shared experience of his carefully crafted dance routine.

"This is really fun! Jungwon, you did a fantastic job with this choreography," you exclaimed, your voice slightly breathless but filled with genuine admiration. A rosy flush colored your cheeks, and a radiant smile spread across your face as you caught your breath. "I absolutely love it!"

Your words echoed in Jungwon's mind, each syllable a note in a symphony of validation and joy. He could feel his heart swell with pride, the sheer ecstasy of hearing you praise his work enveloping him like a warm embrace. The admiration in your eyes was a shimmering reflection of the effort and passion he had poured into creating the dance routine.

The host, beaming with delight, turned to address the audience. "Looks like Jungwon has a promising future in choreography!" he declared, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Thank you for sending in such a creative and entertaining challenge."

The applause that followed was thunderous, a wave of appreciation that seemed to lift Jungwon's spirits even higher. He could hardly believe that his creation had not only reached you but had also brought you joy and laughter. The host's words, echoing the sentiment of the moment, felt like a prophecy, a glimpse into a future where his passion for dance could lead to something extraordinary.

Jungwon's mind raced with possibilities, his imagination painting vivid pictures of what could come next. The dream he had nurtured in the quiet moments of practice and creation was now blossoming into reality, each cheer and clap a testament to his talent and hard work. The connection he felt in that instant, not just with you but with everyone who had witnessed the dance, was a beautiful tapestry woven from threads of admiration, creativity, and shared joy.

Jungwon couldn't contain his joy. The sight of you enjoying his challenge and hearing your praise felt like a dream come true. His heart swelled with an indescribable elation, and he quickly grabbed his phone, his fingers trembling with excitement. He posted a clip of the segment on his fan accounts, eager to share this incredible moment with his fellow fans. The response was immediate and overwhelming, a cascade of congratulatory messages and expressions of delight flooding his notifications.

The comments were a chorus of shared joy and admiration. Friends and fans alike marveled at the creativity of his challenge and celebrated the fact that it had been featured on the show. Jungwon felt a profound sense of connection, a bond strengthened by the collective excitement of the fandom. Each notification was a reminder that he was not alone in his admiration for you; he was part of a vibrant community that shared his passion.

As the show continued, his phone buzzed incessantly with messages from friends and fellow fans. The outpouring of support and shared enthusiasm was heartwarming, filling him with a deep sense of pride. Not only had his challenge been showcased, but it had also brought joy to you, making the moment all the more special. The realization that his creation had made an impact on you was a source of immense satisfaction and fulfillment.

Later that night, Jungwon found himself replaying the segment over and over. Each viewing brought a fresh wave of happiness, the smile on his face growing wider with every replay. The experience had exceeded his wildest hopes, igniting a newfound sense of inspiration within him. He felt a burning desire to continue creating, to keep pushing the boundaries of his passion and supporting you in any way he could.

The memory of watching you perform his challenge was a highlight of his journey as a fan, a luminous moment that he knew he would treasure forever. It was a testament to the power of dedication, creativity, and the unbreakable bond between an artist and their admirers. As he drifted off to sleep that night, the smile never left his face, and his heart was full of dreams for what the future might hold.

西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI.

Riki sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, the soft glow of his phone illuminating his eager face. His fingers trembled slightly as he clutched the device, heart pounding with a mix of disbelief and excitement. Just moments ago, a notification had appeared on the screen: you had reacted to the dance cover he had posted on TikTok. The realization felt almost surreal.

For weeks, Riki had dedicated countless hours to perfecting the choreography to one of your latest songs. Each movement had been carefully honed, every step imbued with his boundless energy and unwavering passion. The process had been a labor of love, a testament to his admiration for you and your artistry. 

Now, in the quiet sanctity of his room, he found himself confronted with the astonishing truth: his idol had seen his work. The walls around him seemed to pulse with the same rhythm that had driven his practice, as if sharing in his triumph. The air was thick with the echoes of his dedication, a tangible reminder of the countless nights spent rehearsing, perfecting, and dreaming.

As he sat there, the magnitude of the moment washed over him. It was as if the universe had conspired to align his efforts with a dream come true, a beacon of recognition shining brightly in his life. The world outside might have remained unchanged, but within the confines of his room, everything felt different—charged with possibility and the promise of what could be.

With a swift, almost reverent motion, he opened the app, his fingers dancing with a blend of urgency and anticipation. He navigated to your profile, each tap of the screen a deliberate step towards the moment he had been waiting for. There it was—a duet video that had emerged from the digital ether, a striking juxtaposition of his dance cover alongside your reaction.

As he tapped on the video, his heart quickened, a rhythmic drumbeat echoing his mounting excitement. The screen came alive with the vivid, familiar tableau of his own room, now transformed into a stage of personal significance. The opening notes of the song filled the space, the melody unfurling like a delicate ribbon, weaving through the air as he began the intricate routine he had labored over.

The choreography that had once been a solitary endeavor now pulsated with new life, accompanied by the visual testament of your response. Each movement he had practiced with meticulous care unfolded in harmony with your reactions, creating a seamless blend of artistry and acknowledgment. The scene was a breathtaking testament to his dedication, captured in the intimate setting of his room yet resonating with the grand significance of a dream realized.

As the video unfolded, you emerged on the split screen, your gaze fixed with a blend of concentration and admiration. The moment your eyes fell upon the opening moves, they widened in astonishment, and a radiant smile blossomed across your face. "Wow, Riki, you’re really good!" you exclaimed, your voice bubbling with genuine enthusiasm as you clapped your hands in appreciation.

Riki's heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of pride and joy. He watched, spellbound, as you attempted to mirror his moves, your own energetic efforts weaving through the choreography. The sincerity of your reaction was palpable, your infectious energy casting a warm glow over the video. As you struggled to keep pace with some of the more intricate steps, your laughter rang out, a melodious testament to your enjoyment.

"This is amazing!" you declared, your voice tinged with exhilaration. Your attempts to keep up with the more complicated segments were endearing, each misstep only adding to the charm of the moment. "You’ve got some serious skills," you added, the admiration in your tone leaving no doubt about the impact Riki’s performance had made.

As the video continued to play, your voice wove a tapestry of praise and encouragement, each word resonating with warmth and sincerity. Your genuine enthusiasm was evident in every comment you made, and the way you cheered him on with heartfelt fervor only heightened Riki's sense of disbelief. 

To see his idol reacting so positively, to hear you express admiration for his dance cover, was a dream realized beyond anything he had ever imagined. Each of your encouraging words was like a golden thread, stitching together the fabric of his hopes and aspirations. 

Riki felt a euphoric surge of joy and excitement, a bubbling elation that seemed to illuminate every corner of his being. It was as if every ounce of effort, every painstaking moment of practice had been acknowledged and celebrated by the very person he admired. The sense of validation that enveloped him was profound, a poignant reminder that his relentless dedication had truly borne fruit.

As the final frames of the video faded, Riki remained seated in a state of stunned reverence, his mind still reeling from the extraordinary moment. The room seemed to hold its breath as he absorbed the magnitude of what had just unfolded. It felt as though time itself had paused, allowing him to savor the profound significance of your reaction.

With a rush of excitement, he swiftly shared the duet on his own TikTok account. His fingers moved with a blend of urgency and care as he crafted a caption imbued with heartfelt gratitude, a testament to the overwhelming joy and appreciation he felt. 

Almost instantly, his phone began to buzz with a flurry of activity. Notifications erupted like a cascade of shooting stars, each one a glowing testament to the support and admiration pouring in from friends and fellow fans. Likes, comments, and messages flooded his screen, each one a vibrant expression of shared excitement and encouragement. The once-quiet room was now alive with the digital applause of those who celebrated his achievement alongside him.

Riki dedicated the remainder of the evening to a whirlwind of joy and celebration, his fingers dancing across the keyboard as he replied to the influx of comments and messages. Each notification was a burst of radiant support from the community, a testament to the genuine connection he felt with those who shared his excitement. His friends joined in the festivities, their enthusiasm mirroring his own, creating an atmosphere brimming with shared triumph.

The acknowledgment from you, his idol, filled him with an exhilarating sense of accomplishment. It was as though he had reached the pinnacle of a long-cherished dream, and the warmth of your appreciation deepened his admiration. He had always marveled at your talent and dedication from afar, but now, that admiration had evolved into something profoundly personal. The recognition you offered was a bridge between his passion and your artistry, and it made him feel as if he was floating on a cloud of euphoria.

Before retiring for the night, Riki watched the duet one final time. He immersed himself in the vivid moments of your reaction, savoring the way your eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and how your laughter seemed to dance along with the music. Each replay was a precious moment, a reminder of the incredible connection they had forged. This experience, etched into his memory like a cherished photograph, would be a beacon guiding his journey forward. The encounter with his idol had been a dream manifested into reality, and he eagerly anticipated the next chapter of his path, driven by the renewed vigor and passion it had ignited within him.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @d-dilemma (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Post taglist: @levi-09 @itjengirl @engentiny @clampclover @neos127 @jwonistic @mimisxs

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

Wow, the Hyein fic went beyond my expectations.

I enjoyed reading every sentence! I wish Hyein could read it so she sees herself the way we do.

Thank you so much! 🥹 I wish Hyein could see herself the way we do, too! She’s just too cute! But I’m hoping she’ll eventually become more comfortable and confident in her own skin 🙂‍↕️

Knowing that you enjoyed writing my requests honestly makes me so happy!

I know you haven’t forgotten my Hyunjin request, I’m literally so so excited about it!

But, GREEN! I can’t believe you’ve added my ult group, NewJeans!! This makes me SO excited! I want to come up with some requests, give me a few days and I’ll be back!

All the love,

🩷 Anon

Of course! I honestly enjoy all of my requests since they all challenge me and force me to be a little more creative each time, which I really love. But queer requests will always hold a very special place in my heart (especially if they're soft and comforting like yours tend to be).

AHH I'm honestly so excited to be done with it and post it >.< But I won't lie, I am lowkey struggling with the pacing and flow of it, so it's taking me forever to finish :( I'll get it done, I swear! I'm really determined to finish it for my own sanity LMAO

Hello? You're also a Bunny? I only just started getting into their fandom maybe a week or two ago, so I'm still very much learning about them, but I just love them so much already that I couldn't wait to write about them! They're all so adorable and funny 😩 And also, I was so pleasantly surprised to find so many queer Bunnies on here that also write amazing 'x Female Reader' pieces! Like, the second I realized it, I immediately made a post asking them to make requests so I could get started on writing for them and I almost immediately got asked to write for Hanni (Blue Lemonade), and it got so much love!

So, please do send me some requests for them! I'm genuinely so excited to make some friends who are also Bunnies 🥹

I hope that life is treating you well, 🩷! Please make sure that you stay hydrated, that you eat well, and overall please just take care of yourself! 🥰🫶

─── ⋆⋅☆ STEADY LOVE ( xdinary heroes )

❛ A collection of heartfelt stories where love finds its strength in gentle understanding, as partners navigate the world together with unwavering support and care for each other's unique needs.

𝐱𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 29 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was so self-indulgent to write, so a very big thank you to my lovely 🍀 Anon for this request! Reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N has AuDHD in each member's piece, mentions of bees as a special interest, descriptions of being burned out and struggling with change, some very slight ableism mentioned (not from any of the members), descriptions of overstimulation, mentions of stimming, terrible flirting, overall this is very much hurt + comfort, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

구건일 ── GOO GUNIL.

The day felt like it had conspired against Gunil, stretching itself out into an agonizing eternity, as if determined to sap every last bit of energy from him. Each second dragged on, the clock's hands moving at a snail's pace, mirroring the heaviness in his limbs. Finally, after what seemed like an endless rehearsal, an exhausted sigh escaped his lips, the sound barely noticeable amidst the hum of tired voices from his bandmates. With a practiced, almost mechanical motion, Gunil returned his well-worn drumsticks to their designated holder, a small nook on the wall that had become as familiar to him as his own reflection. The drumsticks settled into place with a soft click, the only sound in the practice room that had served as their second home. 

As his bandmates began to shuffle out, their movements sluggish, weighed down by the day’s efforts, Gunil barely registered the chorus of goodbyes. Jungsu’s voice cut through the haze, a final “see you tomorrow” accompanied by a wave before disappearing into the hallway. Gunil mustered a lazy half-smile, lifting his hand in a farewell that felt more like a reflex than a conscious action. The room, once alive with the pulse of their music, now felt eerily quiet, the silence amplifying the fatigue settling deep into his bones. He reached for his backpack, its weight pulling down on his tired shoulders, just as the sharp ring of his phone shattered the stillness.

The sudden sound jolted him, but when he saw your name on the screen, a genuine smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, chasing away the exhaustion, even if just a little. “I’m done rehearsing, love, I’ll be—” Gunil’s greeting was cut short by the unmistakable sound of your excited squeal. He couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart swelling with affection at the image of you practically vibrating with energy on the other end of the line.

“Goo, you have to come home as soon as you can!” Your voice was bright, almost bursting with excitement, and Gunil could easily imagine you doing your little wiggles of joy, the ones that always made his heart melt. 

“Yes, baby,” he replied, his tone gentle, hiding the weariness in his bones so as not to dampen your spirits. “I’ll be home in no time. What’s got you so excited?” 

As he turned off the lights in the now-quiet practice room, the faint clicking of your keyboard reached his ears. He pictured you perched at your desk, your laptop open before you, eyes wide with curiosity. The image made him smile. 

“I found this new video, and Goo, it is so cool! It's a swarm of Japanese honeybees defending their nest by slapping ants with their wings, but this one is honestly so fascinating because apparently, this colony got infected by the Varroa Destructor Mite — but they were still so aggressive against the ants and they won! Isn't that so cool? Oh, Goo, please hurry, you have to watch it!” 

Your words tumbled out in a rush, barely pausing for breath, your excitement making the details spill over each other in a joyous cascade. Gunil found himself chuckling softly, warmth blooming in his chest as he listened to your passionate rambling. There was something so endearing about the way you got lost in your own world, especially when it came to bees. He could listen to you talk for hours, your voice animated and full of life, a stark contrast to the weariness that had settled over him.

He thought back to the early days of your relationship, when you had nervously explained your autism to him, worried that it might be too much, too different. But to Gunil, it was simply another beautiful facet of who you were, something that made him love you even more deeply. “That does sound very interesting, my love,” he said, trying to match your energy despite the exhaustion tugging at him. “I really can’t wait to watch it!”

The promise of coming home to you, to your bright, infectious enthusiasm, gave him the strength to push through the final stretch of his journey. “I’ll be home in about ten minutes, so hang tight,” he added, a smile in his voice as he ended the call. As he neared the apartment you shared, the sight of a family-owned flower shop caught his eye. 

Even through the fatigue, his gaze lingered on the blooms in the window, your favorite flowers standing out like a beacon. The thought of surprising you with them, especially when you were already so happy, sent a thrill through him. Without hesitation, he ducked into the shop, the sweet scent of fresh flowers wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. He selected a bouquet with care, imagining the way your eyes would light up when he walked through the door with them in hand.

The weight of the day began to lift as he paid for the flowers, the simple act of thinking about you bringing a renewed sense of energy. The thrill of coming home to you, your voice still echoing in his mind, made each step lighter. As he walked out of the shop, the bouquet cradled carefully in his arms, he felt the anticipation build, knowing that soon, he would be by your side, sharing in the simple, beautiful joy of being together.

김정수 ── KIM JUNGSU.

The corners of Jungsu’s lips tightened into a worried frown as he gently rapped on the door of your shared bedroom. Not waiting for an invitation, he nudged the door open just enough to peer inside. The sight that greeted him was one of persistent discomfort. There you were, lying on your side of the bed, your expression etched with visible distress. Your laptop, casting a soft glow in the dim room, played the familiar episodes of your favorite show—one you had practically memorized through countless viewings meant to soothe your troubled emotions.

Jungsu let out a soft sigh, his concern growing with each passing moment. He stepped into the room, the plush carpet muffling his footsteps as he moved towards your side of the bed. Perching himself on the edge, he settled into the space beside you, his presence both reassuring and tender. You kept your gaze fixed on the screen, as though it were the only refuge from the turmoil roiling within.

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and unshared burdens. After a few moments, you finally turned your head to meet his gaze, a weary sigh escaping your lips. Jungsu’s heart ached at the sight of your frustration and weariness. “I ordered takeout,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as if afraid to shatter the fragile calm. “It’s your favorite.”

He noticed the fleeting flicker of interest in your eyes, a brief spark that was quickly extinguished as you turned back to the screen with a frown. “I don’t want to eat right now,” you murmured, your tone resolute and final, leaving no room for negotiation. The firmness of your refusal stung, and Jungsu could only nod in resignation. He sighed once more, his shoulders slumping slightly as he retreated from the room, leaving you to your solitude.

For nearly a week now, this had been your reality—an ongoing struggle that Jungsu could only partially grasp. Despite the year you had been together, he had never seen you like this before. He understood that adapting to sudden changes was particularly challenging for you, especially when they disrupted the routines that provided a semblance of stability. The day you had called him from work, sobbing uncontrollably while locked in the bathroom, was seared into his memory. You had told him about your old manager’s abrupt departure and the arrival of a new, unfamiliar face. The sudden shift was more than you could handle, especially when your new manager refused to accommodate the adjustments necessary to make your work environment bearable.

As the days went on, the pressure became insurmountable. Each day, you returned home to face the aftermath of panic attacks you had kept at bay and to collapse into bed, seeking solace in the comfort of a show that could no longer ease the heaviness you carried. The joy and relief it once brought you were now overshadowed by a pervasive numbness, a stark reminder of the emotional toll that had become all too familiar.

Jungsu’s heart ached with the weight of your struggle, and though he sympathized deeply with your plight, it did little to quell his worry. He remained steadfast in his resolve to support you through this storm, even as he grappled with the helplessness of seeing you so diminished. Each day, he hoped for a glimmer of recovery, a sign that the storm within you might begin to abate. But for now, he could only offer his silent presence and unwavering support, waiting for the day when you would once again find your way back to the light.

Jungsu was grappling with uncertainty about how to pull you from the depths of your distress, but a sudden spark of inspiration ignited within him as his gaze fell upon the television in the living room. Resolute to offer you a sliver of comfort, he began a frenzied quest to transform your shared space into a sanctuary of solace. For the next half hour, he darted around the apartment, arms laden with an assortment of blankets, comforters, and pillows—each one a small testament to his unwavering determination.

With every trip in and out of the bedroom, his expression was a mixture of earnest concentration and quiet determination. You watched with a blend of curiosity and amusement as he repeatedly entered the room, his movements a flurry of purposeful activity. At one point, he even attempted to gather your collection of stuffed animals, struggling under the weight of their collective softness as he staggered out, his focus unbroken by your gaze.

The sounds of his labor—the shuffling of furniture, the occasional grunt of exertion—filled the space, drawing your attention away from the show you had paused. You listened intently, your curiosity piqued by the rhythmic clamor of activity. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of bustling, Jungsu reappeared in the doorway of your bedroom, his face illuminated with a blend of triumph and excitement. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, catching the soft light of the nightstand lamp as he panted, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Baby,” he called out, his voice breathless but laced with an infectious enthusiasm. His hands rested on his hips, a gesture of pride and anticipation. “Can you please come out? I made something for you, and I think you’re really going to like it!”

Despite the storm of emotions swirling within you, the sight of Jungsu’s eager, childlike gleam in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings. Intrigued and touched by his effort, you pushed yourself up from the bed, the pull of his unwavering support more compelling than the urge to remain cocooned in your sanctuary. He extended a hand towards you, which you accepted with a grateful smile, allowing him to guide you toward the living room.

The transformation that greeted your eyes as you entered the living room took your breath away. The coffee table, once a fixture in the center of the room, had been pushed to the far wall. In its place stood a grand fortress, a whimsical creation of mismatched blankets and comforters meticulously draped and layered into a cozy haven. Strings of Christmas lights peeked through the folds, their gentle glow casting a warm, ethereal light that danced across the room. The television, positioned just in front of the fortress’s entrance, was primed to play your favorite show, a comforting familiarity in its soft glow.

As you inhaled deeply, the fragrant aroma of your favorite meal wafted towards you, a final touch to the heartwarming scene. Overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude, tears threatened to spill as you turned to embrace Jungsu. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, your body shaking slightly with the emotion you struggled to contain.

Jungsu chuckled softly, his arms enveloping you in a hug that was both firm and reassuring—just the way you liked it. “Is this okay?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper as you pulled back to look at him. The tears in your eyes glistened with a profound appreciation as you nodded vigorously, your voice wavering with emotion. “This is perfect, Jun,” you managed to say, your voice cracking slightly. “It looks exactly like how my grandmother used to do it when I was upset as a child.”

Jungsu’s smile widened, his satisfaction evident in the warmth that radiated from him. As you turned and practically bounded towards the fortress, a trail of contented giggles followed in your wake, each sound a balm to his worried heart. The sight of your joy, so vividly reflected in your laughter, made his heart flutter with a tender affection that seemed to encompass the entire room.

곽지석 ── KWAK JISEOK.

The outdoor market was a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds, alive with the energy of families and couples weaving through stalls brimming with fresh produce and handcrafted jewelry. The air was thick with the mingling scents of spices, flowers, and street food, a cacophony of sensory delights that usually set your heart racing with excitement. But today, the thrumming pulse of the market felt more like a storm brewing on the horizon. 

You had been standing in front of a stall, fingers lightly tracing the delicate patterns of handmade trinkets when a sudden influx of noisy tourists swarmed around you. The once-open space now felt suffocating as their loud voices clashed against one another, creating a wall of sound that made it impossible to think clearly. The proximity of strangers pressed too close, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your heart into a frantic rhythm. You glanced around, searching desperately for Jiseok, who had been right beside you only moments ago, but the crowd swallowed him up, leaving you feeling isolated and vulnerable.

As your anxiety began to claw its way to the surface, your body responded in familiar, desperate ways. Your fingers found their way to your hair, twisting and pulling at the strands as if they might tether you to something solid. Your leg bounced uncontrollably, tapping out an erratic rhythm on the cobblestones beneath you. The sharp sting of your nails digging into your palms became the only thing anchoring you, yet it also edged you closer to a breaking point that felt terrifyingly near.

It felt like an eternity, but finally, Jiseok emerged from the crowd, his eyes immediately locking onto you with a mix of relief and concern. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong—he could see it in the way your body had tensed, in the rapid, shallow breaths you struggled to control. Without a word, he reached out, gently but firmly taking your hands in his, halting the destructive cycle of pulling at your hair and digging into your skin. He interlaced your fingers with his, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, let's get out of here for a bit," Jiseok's voice broke through the chaos, a soothing melody that cut through the overwhelming noise around you. He didn’t wait for a response; instead, he drew you close, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your head against his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat against your ear was a familiar comfort, a lifeline in the middle of the storm.

Guiding you through the press of bodies, Jiseok kept you close, his arms a protective barrier against the world that had become too much to bear. His grip tightened slightly, applying the firm pressure that always seemed to calm your racing thoughts. "Look, we can go there for a little bit," he murmured, nodding towards a small park that sat like a hidden gem amidst the market’s frenzy. The greenery promised a respite, a quiet place to breathe again.

But it wasn’t the park that brought you solace—it was Jiseok himself. The vibration of his voice against your back as he spoke, the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his embrace all worked together to gently pull you out of the whirlpool of anxiety that threatened to drag you under. As he continued to speak, his words becoming a soft, mindless ramble meant only to distract, you could feel the storm inside you begin to subside. Your heartbeat, once wild and erratic, slowly began to sync with his, finding a steadier, calmer pace.

As Jiseok gently guided you through the bustling market, his hand remained a steady presence on your shoulder. Every so often, he would give a gentle squeeze, three soft pulses of reassurance—a silent code you both had established for moments like these, where words seemed to dissolve into the fog of your anxiety. It was his quiet way of asking, "Are you okay?" The simple gesture, familiar and comforting, anchored you amidst the swirling chaos. 

In response, you reached up to grasp his forearm, fingers curling around his warmth as you squeezed twice, signaling back, "I'm better." The exchange was small, but it spoke volumes—a tender conversation held in silence, where no words were necessary, just the understanding between two souls who had learned to navigate these storms together.

The noise of the market gradually faded into the background as Jiseok led you to the park. Here, the world softened, with the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant murmur of others who had also sought sanctuary from the market's overwhelming energy. The park felt like a refuge, a place where the intensity of the outside world couldn't quite reach you. Jiseok spotted a secluded bench beneath the shade of a large, ancient tree, its branches stretching out like a protective canopy. The dappled sunlight danced through the leaves, casting a soothing pattern on the ground, and the bench offered a quiet place to rest, away from prying eyes and the relentless pace of the market.

Once seated, Jiseok remained close, his presence a calming force beside you. Your breath, which had been shallow and quick, began to slow as you settled into the quiet of the park. Jiseok's fingers found their way to your hair, gently playing with the strands in a tender contrast to the earlier harsh tugging you had subjected them to. The soft rhythm of his touch was a balm, easing the lingering tension in your body. His other hand rested on your thigh, grounding you with its comforting weight.

He spoke in a low, soothing tone, his words a gentle caress to your frayed nerves. "We can leave whenever you're ready," he suggested, his gaze drifting out to the serene view of the park, "Maybe we can grab some food and cuddle at the dorm. I'm sure the members won’t mind. I’ll kick Seungmin out of our room if I have to; he’ll just have to suck it up."

As the tension within you began to melt away, you found yourself repeating the last few words of his sentence—a familiar and comforting habit, a happy stim that signaled your return to a place of calm. "...have to suck it up," you echoed, your voice lighter now, carrying the trace of a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

Jiseok chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket of comfort. He squeezed your hand gently, checking to ensure your nails were no longer digging into your palm. "That's my favorite sound," he teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he grinned at you, his love evident in the gentle curve of his smile.

This shared moment of lightness, of humor, further dispelled the remnants of your anxiety. In his presence, you were reminded that you didn’t have to face these moments alone—that even in your most vulnerable states, Jiseok was there, offering his unwavering support and love. The park, with its serene beauty and the quiet strength of your bond, became a haven where you could breathe again, surrounded by the safety of his embrace.

오승민 ── OH SEUNGMIN.

JYP Entertainment hosted an exclusive and lavish party at a luxury hotel, where the atmosphere blended the grandeur of celebration with the intimacy of a private gathering. Unlike the typical public events, this one was strictly by invitation, creating a sanctuary for idols to bring their partners, friends, and families without the constant pressure of cameras. The setting was resplendent, with elegant decor that reflected the significance of the occasion.

The entertainment options catered to a variety of tastes. In one corner, a live band played soft jazz, filling the room with soothing melodies. Nearby, a DJ spun upbeat tracks, enticing those who wanted to dance. For the more playful guests, a karaoke setup allowed for uninhibited fun, and a photobooth adorned with glittering lights stood ready to capture the night’s memories. A gourmet buffet stretched along one side of the room, offering an array of international cuisines, the rich aromas mingling with the laughter and chatter that filled the air.

Despite the festive atmosphere, the constant flashing of lights and the relentless pulse of the music began to overwhelm you. This was your first time attending an event of this magnitude, and though you had agreed to come because of the way Seungmin’s eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of sharing this moment with you, the environment soon proved too much. Even as you admired him, his figure so striking in the finely tailored suit that accentuated his lean, muscular build, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the grand room was closing in on you. Your hands trembled despite your best efforts to maintain composure, and a cold sweat began to form along your hairline.

You stole a glance at Seungmin, who stood a short distance away, his face illuminated with genuine joy as he engaged in animated conversation with his bandmates and senior idols from the company. They were discussing the future direction of their music, reminiscing about their journey since debuting, and Seungmin’s laughter rang out, a clear sign that he was fully immersed in the moment. For a brief second, you hoped that his distraction would allow you to slip away unnoticed, just for a moment, to calm the rising tide of anxiety within you.

The party, though well-intentioned, was far beyond your comfort zone, and the sensory overload was beginning to take its toll. You needed to escape, to find a quiet space where you could breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on you. But as you discreetly made your way to the bathroom, seeking refuge from the overwhelming stimuli, Seungmin caught sight of your retreating figure. 

Unbeknownst to you, Seungmin had anticipated the possibility of you feeling overwhelmed in such a busy atmosphere. Understanding how easily you could be overstimulated, he had made sure to pack your well-loved noise-canceling headphones in the expensive messenger bag his stylist had provided. As soon as he saw you slipping away, his concern for you took precedence over the conversation, and he politely excused himself, following you to the bathroom.

Upon entering the lavish bathroom, Seungmin offered a polite bow and murmured apologies to the few occupants before your shallow breathing caught his attention. He quickly moved to stand outside the stall where you had taken refuge. 

"Love? It's me," he called softly, his voice gentle and soothing, careful not to startle you in your vulnerable state. Inside the stall, your hands clenched in a futile attempt to stop their violent trembling as you struggled to steady your breathing. 

Seungmin reached over the door, his hand holding the familiar headphones — a lifeline in the storm of your frenzied thoughts. "I thought you might need this," he murmured. 

You reached up and snatched the headphones, the urgency in your movements reflecting the desperation you felt. As you placed them over your ears, the chaotic world outside was mercifully muted. The overwhelming cacophony faded, replaced by the comforting silence you had so desperately needed. Finally, you could breathe again, the noise-canceling barrier providing a sanctuary where you could begin to reclaim your peace.

You were immensely grateful for Seungmin’s patience, relishing the brief respite as you took a few moments to catch your breath. The bustling noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, creating a cocoon of calm around you. Just as you began to steady yourself, your phone vibrated in your hand — a text from Seungmin, despite him standing right outside the bathroom stall. His name illuminated the screen, and a calming wave of relief washed over you, your erratic heartbeat finding a more measured rhythm.

Seungmin understood that in moments like these, communication through text would be the most comforting method. The message on your screen read, Feeling any better? 

Your fingers, still slightly trembling, moved to reply. A lot better, thanks to you. Everything just became a little too much for me. 

The reply came almost instantaneously, and you noticed how the tight, claustrophobic feeling had dissipated. I’m glad I thought of bringing the headphones. Why didn’t you tell me though? The words on the screen seemed to convey a trace of concern, as though you could almost see the frown forming on his lips as he awaited your response.

A pang of guilt pierced your heart. You knew Seungmin would have dropped everything to help you if only you had spoken up. But you didn’t want him to worry or to spoil such a significant night. I didn’t want to ruin such a big night. I thought I would be able to handle it...until I couldn’t anymore. You sent the message with a sigh, already anticipating the comforting words that would follow. 

Baby, these parties mean nothing compared to your well-being. You didn’t ruin anything, I promise. A warm smile tugged at your lips as you read his soothing words. 

Moments later, another text from him appeared. Do you want to stay here for a bit, or would you like me to take you somewhere quieter? 

Relief flooded over you as you replied, Can we stay here for now? I don’t want to go back out yet. 

Of course. Do you want to let me in? The offer was genuine and well-intentioned, but it made you feel uneasy. 

You texted back, No. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can handle being touched or having anyone at close proximity right now...sorry. 

Hey, I get it. I’ll just stay here until you’re ready to come out.

Seungmin settled in by the door of your stall, his presence a reassuring anchor in your storm of anxiety. Leaning against the door, he continued to text you intermittently, checking in without overwhelming you. Despite the guilt that gnawed at you for keeping him away from the main event, you found solace in the sight of his polished shoes peeking out from beneath the stall door. His calm and patient demeanor provided a sense of security, a reminder that he was there for you while respecting your need for space.

To lift your spirits, Seungmin sent small jokes and snippets of gossip from the party, aiming to lighten the mood without pushing you too far. His thoughtful gestures made the wait more bearable. When you finally felt ready to emerge, you texted him, signaling that you were prepared to leave the bathroom. Seungmin maintained a respectful distance as he guided you out, his focus on ensuring your comfort. He stood by your side, a steady presence as you stood by the bathroom sinks, allowing you to regain your composure.

As you began to feel more at ease, your heart soared when Seungmin gently pulled you closer, swaying with you to the rhythm of a slow song that was apparently playing at the main party. The music and his embrace melded together in a soothing harmony, offering a sense of peace and connection that made the night’s earlier chaos feel like a distant memory.

한형준 ── HAN HYEONGJUN.

You and Hyeongjun had been together long enough to know that your bond was more than just a fleeting connection—it was a deeply rooted love, a steadfast commitment that had withstood the test of time. The idea of moving in together had always felt like the natural progression of your relationship, a step that would solidify the foundation you had built together. The thought of creating a home, a sanctuary where your love could continue to blossom, was a dream you both held close to your hearts. 

After months of searching, of walking through countless doorways in hopes of finding the one that felt right, you finally discovered a small, charming apartment nestled in a quiet neighborhood. It was perfect in its simplicity, a place that felt like it could become your own little haven away from the world. The moment you stepped inside, hand in hand with Hyeongjun, you could almost see the future unfolding before your eyes—a future filled with love, laughter, and the simple joy of being together.

However, as thrilling as this new chapter was, the journey to get there was anything but easy. The excitement that buzzed in your chest was often tempered by the looming dread of packing up your lives and making the transition into this new space. Despite the weeks you had spent mentally preparing, gathering boxes, and organizing your belongings, the reality of the task ahead felt overwhelming once the packing began in earnest. The room that had once been your sanctuary, a place of comfort and familiarity, now looked as though it had been ravaged by a chaotic whirlwind. The bed, once a cozy nest of warmth, was buried beneath a patchwork of clothes—some folded neatly, others discarded haphazardly in the frenzy of sorting. Your once-tidy shelves had succumbed to disorder, with books that had been carefully arranged now lying in disarray, their pages splayed open as if they, too, were crying out for the order that had been lost.

Boxes were strewn across the floor, some half-packed, others overflowing with belongings that seemed to resist categorization. Trinkets and mementos from your relationship and childhood, tokens of memories that had shaped you, were scattered across every available surface. The room had become a chaotic testament to your inability to start a task and see it through to completion, the once-organized process now devolved into a mess that mirrored the storm of emotions brewing within you.

As you stood in the center of the chaos, trying to take it all in, the room seemed to close in on you. The sheer magnitude of the task at hand made your head spin, and the weight of the change—of leaving behind the familiar to step into the unknown—pressed down on you like a heavy blanket, smothering you with a growing sense of panic. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your chest tightening as the reality of what lay ahead threatened to overwhelm you entirely. You felt frozen, trapped between the urge to curl up on the floor and the fear of succumbing to the full-blown panic attack that you could feel building inside you.

In that moment, the dream of a shared home, of a future filled with love and laughter, felt impossibly distant, overshadowed by the immediate reality of the overwhelming chaos that surrounded you.

Hyeongjun had been meticulously packing utensils in the kitchen, each clang and clatter a small, careful note in the symphony of your impending move. The rhythm was comforting in its predictability, a soundscape of progress amidst the chaos. But it was the sudden, uneven hitch in your breathing that cut through his focus like a knife. The familiar, faint tremor in your breath sent his instincts into overdrive. He abandoned the half-filled box without a second thought, his concern drawing him swiftly to the doorway where he paused, eyes immediately searching for you. The room’s disarray only served to heighten his worry, but it was the look on your face—pale, strained, eyes wide with the first signs of panic—that sent him rushing to your side.

His presence was immediate, solid, a tether in the storm of your thoughts. His hands hovered just above your trembling frame, a question in the tension of his fingers, as if even the act of touching needed your permission in this fragile moment. His voice, calm and steady despite the urgency he felt, broke the silence, "Touch or no touch?" It was the question he always asked, a gentle reminder that he was there, ready to offer exactly what you needed.

Your throat tightened, the pressure of unspoken fears constricting your ability to breathe freely. It took a moment, but you managed to force the words past the lump of anxiety, your voice barely above a whisper yet laced with raw desperation. "Touch, please. Hard." The plea was met with immediate action. Hyeongjun closed the distance between you in an instant, his arms wrapping around you with a firm, reassuring pressure that felt like a lifeline. He pulled you close, your face pressed into the warm, solid comfort of his chest, as if he could shield you from the overwhelming chaos that threatened to consume you.

His embrace was everything you needed—strong, grounding, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety. His hands moved over your back, each squeeze purposeful, designed to remind you that you weren’t alone in this moment. The weight of his arms anchored you, offering a physical connection that countered the spinning in your mind. As you struggled to sync your breathing with his, he guided you gently, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, coaxing your frantic gasps to slow. The familiar scent of him—warm, comforting, like home—began to permeate your senses, grounding you further with each breath.

Hyeongjun understood you in a way no one else did. He knew how deeply change unsettled you, how even the most exciting transitions could unearth old anxieties that clung like shadows. This move, this beautiful step into a shared future, was something you had both yearned for, yet the enormity of it was daunting, and he recognized that. 

Still holding you close, he gently guided you to the edge of the bed, never loosening his protective grip. His voice, soft and steady, filled the space between your breaths. He began to speak, his words a soothing balm, painting a picture of the memories he hoped to create with you in your new home. 

He spoke softly of lazy Saturday mornings, where the two of you would linger in bed, wrapped in each other’s warmth as the world outside moved on without you. He painted a picture of sunlight streaming through the windows, casting golden hues across the room as the smell of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the comforting scent of your shared space. He imagined those moments when you would shuffle into the kitchen, still half-asleep, to find him waiting with a mug in hand and a soft smile on his lips. The day would stretch out before you, unhurried and serene, a canvas for whatever simple joys you decided to indulge in. 

He envisioned quiet evenings in the living room, where the two of you would sit side by side, your legs tangled together as you watched movies, your laughter or quiet conversations filling the room. Or perhaps, he mused, there would be nights where no words were needed—where you’d simply sway to the rhythm of music only the two of you could hear, dancing slowly in the dim light of your cozy space. Those were the moments he looked forward to, where nothing else mattered but the gentle pulse of your love, a steady, comforting presence that would fill the apartment with a sense of belonging.

He spoke of the laughter that would echo through the kitchen as you experimented with new recipes, each attempt a delightful adventure, whether it ended in culinary success or a flour-covered mess. The thought of you animatedly talking about bees, your special interest, brought a tender smile to his face. He was excited to hear you ramble on about your latest findings, to listen to your voice light up with passion as you shared the intricacies of something you loved so dearly. For him, the simple joy of coming home to you after a long day, of seeing your face light up when you saw him, was a treasure beyond words. It was in these everyday moments, he believed, that the true beauty of life together would unfold.

Each word he spoke was a delicate thread, weaving a tapestry of the life you would build together—a life rich in love, comfort, and endless moments of shared happiness. As he continued to paint this picture with his words, you felt the tightness in your chest begin to ease, the panic that had gripped you slowly loosening its hold. The overwhelming mess that surrounded you, while still daunting, no longer felt like an insurmountable mountain. 

When he offered to help you pack your bedroom, it wasn’t just the task at hand he was addressing—it was the unspoken promise that you wouldn’t have to face any of it alone. With Hyeongjun by your side, you knew that no matter how overwhelming the process might seem, you would get through it together. The future you were moving toward, though filled with uncertainties, was also brimming with the promise of love, and that was more than enough to keep you going.

이주연 ── LEE JOOYEON.

Since childhood, Saturdays had been your sacred ritual, a cherished time when you sought refuge in the comforting embrace of your favorite internet cafe. Nestled on a tranquil street near your home, this digital sanctuary had become your second haven. The space was a dimly lit enclave, bathed in warm amber hues that softly illuminated rows of screens and keyboards. The gentle hum of cooling fans and the rhythmic clatter of keys created a soothing symphony of focused activity. The walls were adorned with neon posters of popular games and vibrant advertisements for energy drinks, their colors shimmering and pulsing with the memories of countless gaming sessions. Each desk bore the marks of countless hours spent in virtual worlds, with personal touches and signs of frequent use that told stories of dedicated gamers. The chairs, worn and comfortable, had molded to fit their occupants perfectly.

The employees, who had long grown accustomed to your weekly visits, had come to appreciate your presence. They reserved a specific PC for you, tucked away in a semi-secluded corner you had claimed as your own years ago. This desk, bathed in the soft, reassuring glow of your screen, was where you felt most at ease, completely immersed in the digital adventures you embarked upon. The ritual of arriving, settling in, and losing yourself in your chosen game was a comforting certainty, a bubble of predictability in a world that often felt overwhelming.

However, recently, this cherished routine had been disrupted by a new and vibrant presence. Jooyeon, as you would eventually learn, was the boy whose frequent visits began to unsettle the calm monotony of your Saturdays. His arrival was like a burst of vivid color and exuberant energy crashing into your serene haven. The air would come alive with his boisterous laughter and animated conversations with friends, his presence a dynamic contrast to the quiet you had grown accustomed to.

Despite this disruption, you found yourself surprisingly receptive to the change. Jooyeon, with his strikingly handsome features, was impossible to overlook. His mischievous grin, ever-present and wide, seemed to illuminate the room as if he were the very essence of playful charm. Dressed in soft, well-worn hoodies paired with relaxed jeans, and with his shoulder-length hair cascading like a dark, flowing waterfall, he exuded an effortlessly cool demeanor. His interactions with friends and his choice of games created a vivid contrast against the backdrop of your reserved routine, adding an unexpected layer of excitement to your once predictable Saturdays.

There were moments when, despite your best efforts to stay focused on your own game, you would catch fleeting glimpses of him from the corner of your eye. You tried to remain unobtrusive, but Jooyeon's unabashed enjoyment of the popular games he was engrossed in was impossible to ignore. The occasional flicker of movement or the burst of his distinctive laughter would effortlessly draw your gaze, breaking through the veil of your concentration.

On one particular Saturday, Jooyeon’s frustration had reached its zenith. After what felt like the hundredth defeat in his solo game, he dramatically slumped back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head in a gesture of surrender. His eyes, alight with a mixture of defiance and amusement, wandered towards your screen, where you were deeply immersed in a particularly demanding quest. As you navigated through the game with meticulous keystrokes, Jooyeon’s gaze lingered on you, an unspoken challenge mingling with curiosity that sent a flutter through your heart.

Despite the distraction of his intense scrutiny, you managed to achieve a hard-fought victory, leveling up with a triumphant flourish on your screen. The soft hum of intrigue that escaped Jooyeon’s lips prompted you to finally look up, your heart racing as you became acutely aware of the flush warming your cheeks. Jooyeon’s grin remained undiminished, his eyes sparkling with an affectionate, teasing light. After a moment of shy silence, his laughter bubbled forth, a soft, infectious sound that seemed to fill the space between you. His amusement wrapped around you like a playful embrace, acknowledging the unspoken connection that had quietly woven itself into the fabric of your Saturday rituals.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a low murmur, meant only for you to hear. “I heard that game is pretty good. Do you mind if I join?” The simple invitation opened the door to a new, intimate connection. From that moment on, Saturdays transformed into a shared adventure, where you and Jooyeon would indulge in games together, swapping playful jabs and cracking jokes. The hours spent with him became the highlight of your week, and the growing affection you felt for him added a layer of significance to each interaction. You found yourself seeking ways to show him how much he meant to you.

Noticing his habit of picking at his skin whenever he was stressed or anxious, you returned the following week with a thoughtful gift: a textured, silicone stress ball from your own collection, designed to help him redirect his nervous energy without damaging his skin. On another occasion, as you patiently waited for him to clear a level in a game you were both playing, you couldn’t help but be charmed by the expression of concentration on his face. Without fully thinking through your words, you blurted out, “You have this cute habit of pouting when you’re really focused. It’s kind of distracting, but in a way that makes me want to keep watching.” The sudden boldness of your words left you both blushing, but Jooyeon’s shy attempt to hide his wide smile made the moment feel worth the slight embarrassment.

When Jooyeon revealed that he was an idol, the bassist for the rock band Xdinary Heroes, you found yourself spending the entire week immersed in his music and learning everything you could about him. By the time Saturday rolled around again, you were eager to confess your newfound knowledge. As he settled into his usual seat beside you, you said with a grin, “I was thinking about you so much that I ended up reading every article, watching every video, and listening to every song from your band. I have so many questions about you guys!” The sight of Jooyeon’s typically casual demeanor giving way to shyness, while his grin widened, was heartwarming. He eagerly entertained each of your questions, his enthusiasm is infectious as ever.

Finally, on one late evening, as the employees of the internet cafe gently nudged you both towards the exit, you lingered outside, a smile playing on your lips. Turning to Jooyeon, you said softly, “I really like spending time with you. You make my brain feel all fizzy, like I’ve had too much caffeine, but in a really good way.” 

To your surprise, he chuckled lightly and replied, “Okay, so, I don’t usually say stuff like this, but...whenever I’m with you, it’s like my brain gets all tangled up in butterflies and excitement. I really like spending time with you, too.”

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! @joosbasschick (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

ᥫ᭡ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. ( xdinary heroes )

❛ It’s the first time you use the strap on him.

𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐮𝐧 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ) 1.3k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Pegging is honestly one of my favorite things, so I absolutely adored this request! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, Junhan gets pegged for the first time, smut, Reader uses strap, handjob, strap rubs your clit.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

The room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of the bedside lamp, casting warm shadows that danced across the walls. You and Hyeongjun stood at the edge of the bed, the air thick with unspoken tension. You could feel the electricity between you, a palpable current that seemed to draw you closer.

With a gentle yet firm touch, you reached for Hyeongjun’s hand, guiding him to sit on the bed. His eyes widened slightly, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness evident in his gaze. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice trembling with a hint of vulnerability.

You smiled softly, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a fleeting kiss. “I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice carrying a quiet confidence. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pushing him gently back onto the bed. Hyeongjun’s breath hitched, his body responding to your assertiveness with a shiver of excitement.

You climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips, and he looked up at you with a blend of awe and desire. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw, trailing down his neck to the collar of his shirt. “I want to take care of you tonight,” you murmured, your eyes locking onto his as you began to unbutton his shirt with deliberate slowness.

Hyeongjun’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you exposed more of his skin. His hands rested on your thighs, his touch hesitant, as if seeking permission. “You’re so beautiful,” you said softly, leaning down to place a tender kiss on his chest. Your words seemed to break the last of his resistance, and he sighed, his body relaxing under your ministrations.

With his shirt discarded, you took a moment to admire the sight before you. Hyeongjun’s skin was warm and inviting, his muscles taut with anticipation. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

He shook his head, his voice barely more than a breathless plea. “Don’t stop. Please.”

Your lips curved into a satisfied smile as you continued your exploration, your hands mapping every inch of his body with a mix of tenderness and control. You took your time, savoring each reaction, each gasp and moan that escaped his lips. The power you held over him was intoxicating, but it was tempered by the deep affection you felt for him.

When you finally leaned back, your eyes meeting his once more, you saw the trust and adoration in his gaze. It made your heart swell with emotion. “I want you,” he said, his voice a low, sultry promise. “But only if you’re ready.”

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. “I’m ready,” you replied, your voice steady, a contrast to the trembling of his hands as they moved to help you undress before you removed yourself entirely off the bed.

The room’s ambient light cast a warm glow on your skin, accentuating the intimacy of the moment. You stood by the edge of the bed, your eyes never leaving Hyeongjun’s as you reached for the strap. His breath seemed to catch in his throat, eyes widening with a mix of awe and anticipation as he watched your every move.

With deliberate slowness, you fastened the harness around your hips, the leather straps snug against your skin. Each motion was intentional, your hands moving with a practiced ease that spoke of confidence and control. Hyeongjun’s gaze followed your every action, his eyes darkening with desire. You could see his chest rising and falling rapidly, the anticipation making his breath come in shallow gasps.

You took a moment to adjust the fit, your fingers brushing over the straps with a languid sensuality before grabbing the bottle of lube and squirting a generous amount of it onto your hand. “Do you like what you see?” you asked softly, your voice carrying a teasing lilt as your lubricated fingers wrapped themselves around the plastic length now attached to you, stroking it slowly. Hyeongjun swallowed hard, his eyes locking onto yours as he nodded, unable to tear his gaze away.

“You’re… incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His words sent a thrill down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile, the power you held over him intoxicating.

You approached the bed with a slow, purposeful stride, your eyes never leaving his. Hyeongjun’s gaze traveled down your body, lingering on the strap, and you could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he bit his lip in anticipation. You climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself between his legs, and leaned in to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

“Are you ready for me?” you whispered against his mouth, your voice a sultry promise. Hyeongjun’s hands trembled as they came to rest on your hips, his touch both tentative and eager.

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes wide with trust and longing. “I want you.”

With a tender smile, you positioned yourself, your hand guiding the strap as you moved closer. Hyeongjun’s eyes fluttered shut, a soft moan escaping his lips as you began to enter him. The connection between you was electric, a dance of give and take, of trust and desire.

Once you managed to fill him up completely, you stilled. His face was scrunched up at the slight pain he’d expected, though it gradually relaxed as you pulled back slowly. In that moment, you were both lost in the sensation, the world outside fading away until there was only the two of you, intertwined in a symphony of passion and intimacy. The strap rubbed your core deliciously, adding to your own pleasure.

The room seemed to pulse with an almost tangible energy, the dim light casting your intertwined shadows onto the walls. You could feel the intensity building between you, a crescendo of emotions and sensations that left you both breathless.

As you moved against Hyeongjun, his moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that spurred you on. His hands clutched at the sheets, his knuckles white with the effort of holding on. “That’s it,” you murmured, your voice low and husky. “You’re doing so well, Hyeongjun. So perfect for me.”

His eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and desire that took your breath away. Each thrust elicited another moan from his lips, his body arching beneath you in response to your movements. “You feel so good,” you continued, your words punctuated by the rhythm of your hips. “So beautiful, so perfect.”

Hyeongjun’s face was flushed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Please,” he managed to whisper, his voice cracking with need. “Don’t stop.”

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “I won’t stop. I want to hear you, Hyeongjun. I want to hear how much you need this.” Your hand slipped between his legs, your fingers finding his own leaking length and adding another layer of sensation as you stroked him at a speed that matched your hips. The effect was immediate, his body trembling as he cried out your name.

“Beautiful,” you praised, your voice filled with a mix of affection and command. “You’re so good for me. So perfect. I love the way you respond to me.” Each word seemed to drive him higher, his moans growing louder, more desperate. The sight of him, lost in the pleasure you were giving him, was almost too much to bear.

You could feel the tension coiling in your own body, the shared intensity of the moment pushing you both closer to the edge. “You’re amazing,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I love watching you like this. You’re everything to me.”

Hyeongjun’s hands reached up, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you down for a kiss. It was a kiss filled with passion and desperation, a meeting of mouths that conveyed all the words you couldn’t say. “I love you,” he gasped against your lips, his voice breaking with the intensity of his feelings.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your heart swelling with the depth of your emotion. “So much.” And with those words, you both let go, the world around you dissolving into a haze of shared ecstasy.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open!

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

so…i made a ko-fi account if anybody is interested in supporting me :) obviously it’s not mandatory or anything like that, but it would really be appreciated! thank you for all the love i’ve received on here!