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──────── ୨ৎ 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴𝚄𝙼 of fictional feelings

⋆ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴍᴇ

Even the stars are jealous of you

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୨ৎ 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼𝓽: secondhand ♡ han jisung ❜ ⌗ . . . . . . . . . ⌗ ❜ advanced calculus ♡ han jisung

[skzficdump]

Secondhand XV

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 3 K

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets, kissing

part VIII / part IX / part X / part XI / part XII / part XIII / part XIV / part XV / part XVI

The morning after kissing Han Jisung felt deeply unreal. You woke up already knowing something had changed. Not dramatically, the world didn’t stop spinning, nothing exploded, but somehow everything felt softer now, because now every time you thought about Han, your brain immediately replayed:

his hands on your waist

the sound he made when you touched his hair

the way he kissed you back like he’d been starving for it

Your face immediately burned against your pillow.

“Oh my God.”

Dori meowed judgmentally from beside your bed like he agreed. You physically covered your face with a blanket. How were you supposed to see him normally again after that?

The answer, unfortunately, was: you weren’t.

Meanwhile across the city, Han sat at his kitchen table staring blankly at cereal while internally losing his mind.

His mother looked at him once.

“…Why are you smiling at milk.”

Han immediately looked away.

“I’m not.”

“You literally are.”

Because unfortunately, Han couldn’t stop replaying last night either.

Your hands grabbing his hoodie. The way you kissed him back immediately. The fact that you liked him too.

God.

Every time he remembered that part specifically, his chest physically hurt. You liked him back, actually. Han dropped his forehead dramatically against the kitchen table. His younger sibling walked by and looked concerned.

“…Are you dying.”

“Possibly.”

By the time school started, both of you had already emotionally combusted at least six times separately.

And then—

you saw each other.

The hallway suddenly felt microscopic. Students moved loudly around you while winter morning light spilled through classroom windows, but none of it mattered because Han stood near the door already looking at you too.

And instantly—

everything came rushing back.

The streetlights. The confession. The kiss.

Your heartbeat became violent immediately. Han looked equally destroyed. For one second neither of you moved. Then Felix appeared beside Han mid-sentence and immediately stopped talking, because apparently the tension between you both was visible from space.

“…Whoa.”

Changbin looked between both of you suspiciously.

“What.”

Felix narrowed his eyes slowly.

“…Something happened.”

Your entire nervous system shut down, Han immediately looked away aggressively.

“Nothing happened.”

“That was the fastest response I’ve ever heard.”

Hyunjin arrived last carrying coffee. Took one look at both of you.

Then calmly:

“Oh my God.”

You nearly choked.

“What?!”

“You both look insane.”

Han rubbed a hand over his face immediately.

“We’re literally standing here.”

“Exactly,” Felix answered dramatically. “Like divorced lovers reconnecting after war.”

“That analogy is getting concerning,” Changbin muttered.

Meanwhile you still hadn’t properly looked at Han again. Because every time your eyes almost met, your stomach flipped violently, and apparently Han was suffering from the same problem.

Because he kept glancing at you—

then immediately looking away like eye contact physically hurt him now.

Which honestly? Same.

The worst part came during class, because Han sat beside you. And now suddenly every tiny thing felt overwhelming. His knee brushing yours beneath the desk. His hoodie sleeve touching your arm. The way he leaned close while whispering sarcastic comments during lectures. You genuinely thought you might die.

Then midway through class, your pencil rolled off the desk. You bent down to grab it at the exact same time Han did, your hands touched and immediately both of you froze.

Oh.

The contact felt tiny, barely anything.

Still—

your breath caught instantly.

Han looked at your hand touching his like he’d never experienced human interaction before.

Then slowly—

very slowly—

his fingers shifted slightly against yours. Not fully holding your hand, not accidentally either, something in between. Your heartbeat completely lost control.

The classroom blurred around you.

Then suddenly:

“Oh my GOD.”

Both of you jumped apart immediately.

Felix sat two rows behind staring at you like a detective solving murder.

“You guys are WEIRD today.”

Han looked murderous instantly.

“Focus on your own life.”

“I AM. Your life is entertaining.”

You covered your face with your hands aggressively.

“This is humiliating.”

Hyunjin looked up from his sketchbook calmly.

“The sexual tension became worse somehow.”

Changbin pointed dramatically.

“I knew something happened.”

“Nothing happened,” you and Han answered immediately.

Too fast, way too fast. Felix gasped.

“You even synchronize now.”

The rest of the day became torture.

Because now that you’d kissed—

both of you seemed incapable of acting normal around each other anymore. Han kept unconsciously moving closer to you, you kept staring at his mouth accidentally.

And worst of all—

both of you smiled too much now.

At one point during lunch, you laughed at something stupid Han said and instinctively grabbed his sleeve. The second you realized what you did, you froze. Han looked down at your hand, then up at you, and suddenly the air shifted again, too soft, too close. Your fingers still held lightly onto his hoodie. Neither of you moved away immediately. Then Changbin physically slammed his tray onto the table.

“OKAY.”

Both of you jumped.

“This is getting creepy.”

Felix pointed aggressively between both of you.

“You’re looking at each other like fanfiction.”

You nearly inhaled water. Han started coughing violently beside you. Hyunjin looked exhausted.

“Please just date already so the rest of us can heal.”

Silence. Your heart stopped instantly.

Because technically—

what were you now?

You and Han both looked at each other briefly. Then immediately away again.

Oh no.

OH NO.

Felix’s eyes widened slowly.

“WAIT.”

Han stood up immediately.

“We’re leaving.”

“You’re literally proving my point.”

Han grabbed your wrist without thinking.

And instantly everything got quiet again.

Because now:

his hand wrapped around your wrist

your eyes locked automatically

and neither of you reacted like this was weird anymore

The realization hit everyone simultaneously. Felix looked emotionally devastated.

“Oh my God.”

Changbin covered his face.

“They’re in love.”

Hyunjin sipped his coffee calmly.

“We’ve known that for months.”

Meanwhile you stared at Han’s hand around your wrist while your heartbeat melted completely.

And honestly?

You didn’t even want him to let go anymore.

The rest of the school day became a complete disaster, not externally. Internally. Because after Han grabbed your wrist in front of everyone and neither of you reacted normally about it—

something shifted again.

Now both of you were hyperaware of everything. The way his hand lingered too long when passing you things. The way you instinctively stood closer to him now. How naturally your bodies kept finding each other in crowded hallways.

And worst of all—

your friends absolutely would not shut up about it.

By last period, Felix had physically started a list titled:

reasons han and soojin are obviously dating

Which currently included:

emotional eye contact

synchronized lying

“violent yearning”

Han carrying your bag without realizing it

“This is harassment,” Han muttered.

“You’re welcome,” Felix answered proudly.

Meanwhile you sat beside Han pretending to focus on class while internally spiraling, because Felix accidentally brought up a terrifyingly good point earlier.

What were you and Han now?

You kissed.

More than once technically.

Han confessed. Kind of. Messily.

And you admitted your feelings too.

But nobody actually said: we’re together.

The realization sat uncomfortably in your chest the rest of the afternoon. Apparently Han was suffering the same crisis, because every few minutes he’d glance toward you like he wanted to say something. Then stop himself. Coward. Unfortunately, you were also a coward. So neither of you brought it up.

Which was how you somehow ended up walking home together afterward in painfully awkward almost-couple silence. The city glowed softly beneath evening lights while cold air moved through the streets around you.

Han walked beside you with his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets. You held your camera against your chest mostly because it gave your nervous hands something to do.

Neither of you spoke for almost an entire block.

Then finally—

“…So.”

You looked over immediately.

Han looked equally nervous.

“…So.”

Silence again, terrible, absolutely terrible. Han laughed weakly under his breath.

“This is weird now.”

Your stomach flipped instantly.

“…In a bad way?”

Han looked horrified immediately.

“No— no, obviously not.”

Relief softened through your chest so quickly it almost embarrassed you. Han noticed immediately and somehow that seemed to calm him slightly too.

Then quieter:

“I just mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “What are we doing?”

There it was.

Oh God.

Your heartbeat became violent instantly.

Cars passed softly nearby while both of you slowed to a stop beneath glowing convenience store lights.

You looked down briefly.

Then admitted quietly:

“I was kinda hoping you knew.”

Han laughed softly. Completely overwhelmed sounding.

“Yeah, no. I’ve been losing my mind since this morning.”

That made you smile helplessly. Because honestly?

Same.

Han looked at you carefully then, really carefully, like he was trying to gather courage for something. And suddenly his expression softened into something gentler, more certain.

“…I don’t wanna do this halfway.”

Your breath caught slightly. Han stepped a little closer, not enough to touch, just enough that the space between you felt warm despite the cold.

“I know everything’s been messy,” he said quietly. “But I like you too much to pretend we’re just… whatever this is.”

Your chest physically hurt.

God.

The way he said things.

You looked up at him slowly.

“…So what are we?”

Han’s ears turned slightly pink. Which honestly almost killed you.

Then softly—

“…I kinda wanna be your boyfriend.”

Silence.

Your heart melted instantly, not because it was smooth, because it wasn’t.

Han looked nervous. Hopeful. Like the answer genuinely mattered too much.

And somehow that made it feel even more real.

A helpless smile spread across your face before you could stop it.

“…Yeah?”

Han looked at you carefully, like he still couldn’t fully believe this was happening.

Then quieter:

“Yeah.”

You laughed softly.

And God—

Han thought he’d spend the rest of his life addicted to that sound.

“So,” you teased gently, “this is your official boyfriend proposal?”

“I had a better speech originally.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I DID.”

You stepped slightly closer then, close enough now that Han’s breathing caught softly.

“And if I say yes?”

Han looked completely gone already.

“…I’d probably never shut up about it.”

Your chest warmed painfully.

Then softly—

“Okay.”

Han blinked once.

“…Okay?”

You smiled.

“Okay, boyfriend.”

The word visibly destroyed him instantly. Han physically covered his face with one hand.

“Oh my God.”

You burst into laughter immediately.

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You called me boyfriend.”

“Well technically you asked.”

Han looked at you again after that, and suddenly the teasing faded completely, because now it was real.

Actually real, uou were his. Not in a possessive way, in a terrifying precious way.

Then quieter—

almost disbelieving—

“…Can I kiss you again?”

Your heartbeat stumbled immediately. The difference this time nearly killed you.

Last night’s kiss had been desperate. Chaotic. Months of tension exploding at once.

This?

This felt softer, careful. Like both of you finally had time to understand what was happening.

You nodded slightly, hHan stepped closer immediately.

One hand moved gently against your jaw while the other stayed tucked nervously in his hoodie pocket like he still couldn’t fully believe he was allowed to touch you like this now.

And when he kissed you—

God.

It felt completely different.

Slow.

Warm.

No desperation this time.

Just Han.

The softness of his lips against yours beneath cold city lights while evening traffic hummed softly around both of you.

Your hands instinctively grabbed lightly at the front of his hoodie and Han smiled against your mouth immediately. Tiny smile, happy smile. The kind you felt more than saw.

And somehow that made your chest ache worse than the desperate kiss yesterday. Because this one felt real.

Not tension. Not almost.

Real.

Han kissed you gently once more before pulling back slightly, forehead resting against yours. Both of you breathed softly into the cold night air.

Then quietly—

almost laughing at himself—

“…This is insane.”

You smiled helplessly.

“What is.”

“You’re actually my girlfriend.”

Your stomach flipped violently. And honestly? Hearing Han Jisung say that might’ve become your new favorite sound in the world.

The relationship lasted exactly twelve hours before everyone figured it out, which honestly was impressive. You and Han genuinely tried hiding it, not because you were ashamed, because suddenly everything felt fragile, new, important in a way that terrified both of you a little.

This was your first real relationship.

Not school flirting. Not awkward almost-dates arranged by rich parents.

Real.

And for Han—

this was the first relationship that actually mattered. The first one where he looked at someone and thought: oh. this could ruin me completely.

So naturally both of you handled it terribly.

The first problem started the next morning, because apparently becoming your boyfriend erased Han’s ability to act normal around you entirely.

You spotted him near the school gate talking to Felix and immediately your stomach flipped. Han looked up at the exact same moment and instantly smiled. Not his usual teasing grin, something softer, automatic. Like seeing you genuinely made his entire face light up before he could stop it. Felix noticed immediately.

His eyes widened.

“Oh my God.”

Han’s smile disappeared instantly. Too late, way too late. You walked closer trying to act normal despite your heartbeat being violent already.

“Morning,” you said softly.

Han shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets immediately like he physically didn’t trust himself.

“…Morning.”

Too soft, again. Felix looked between both of you slowly like a detective solving a murder.

Then dramatically:

“Absolutely not.”

Both of you froze.

“What,” Han answered too quickly.

“You guys are glowing.”

Changbin arrived seconds later carrying coffee.

“…Why does Han look like he won the lottery.”

“HE DOES,” Felix yelled immediately.

You immediately looked down to hide your smile, mistake, big mistake. Because now Changbin noticed too.

His eyes widened slowly.

“…WAIT.”

“No,” Han said instantly.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Meanwhile Hyunjin approached calmly, looked at all four of you once, then directly at Han.

“…You finally kissed, didn’t you.”

Silence, complete silence. Han physically malfunctioned. You nearly choked on air. Felix screamed.

“I KNEW IT.”

Changbin looked emotionally devastated.

“YOU DIDN’T TELL US?”

Han covered his face aggressively.

“Oh my God.”

The problem was—

neither of you could even deny it convincingly.

Not when:

Han kept unconsciously standing too close to you

you kept smiling every time he talked

and both of you looked seconds away from combusting whenever your hands touched

Which happened constantly now, like suddenly your bodies forgot personal space existed.

At one point during class, Han absentmindedly tucked your scarf higher around your face because you looked cold. Then immediately froze after realizing what he did, because boyfriend behavior, in public.

Your heart melted instantly anyway. Felix saw the entire thing happen from across the room, he physically slammed his desk.

“THAT’S INSANE.”

The teacher yelled at him immediately. Worth it.

By lunch, everyone already knew, not officially, but enough. The atmosphere around you and Han had changed too much to hide it anymore.

Now every interaction carried this unbearable softness underneath it, Han carrying your bag automatically, you stealing his hoodies without asking, the way he always checked if you ate lunch now, the way your eyes searched for him first in every room.

Disgusting behavior honestly.

You sat together on the rooftop during lunch beneath shared blankets while Felix stared at both of you like a disappointed father.

“You guys are actually revolting now.”

Han looked offended.

“How.”

“You keep doing the eye thing.”

You blinked.

“…The eye thing?”

“Yes.” Felix pointed aggressively. “THIS.”

Han looked at you automatically after hearing that and immediately both of you smiled slightly. Felix physically collapsed onto Changbin.

“OH MY GOD.”

Changbin looked exhausted.

“They’re gone.”

Hyunjin sipped coffee calmly.

“It’s been over for months.”

Meanwhile your entire face burned. Because honestly? You couldn’t help it.

Everything Han did affected you now, the way he laughed, the way he looked at you like you were something precious. Even stupid things like him pushing his hair back made your heartbeat weird lately. Which was deeply embarrassing.

Then suddenly Han reached over quietly and brushed crumbs off your sleeve without even thinking. The entire group screamed.

“STOP TOUCHING EACH OTHER LIKE MARRIED PEOPLE.”

Han jumped slightly.

“We literally aren’t doing anything!”

“You’re emotionally holding hands,” Felix answered.

“That means NOTHING.”

“It means you’re obsessed with her.”

Han opened his mouth immediately, then stopped.

Because unfortunately—

that was true.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even feel embarrassed about it anymore, not really.

Later that afternoon, after the others finally disappeared toward cram school and buses, you and Han walked slowly through the city together.

The winter air felt softer today somehow or maybe you were just happier now.

Han walked beside you quietly for a while before suddenly speaking.

“…This still feels unreal.”

You looked over.

“What does?”

Han glanced at you briefly.

“…You.”

Your heartbeat stumbled immediately. He continued before you could recover.

“The fact that you’re actually my girlfriend now.”

The word still affected you embarrassingly hard.

Girlfriend.

God.

You smiled shyly down at the sidewalk.

“You keep saying it like you’re shocked.”

“I am shocked.”

“Why?”

Han looked at you like the answer was obvious.

“Soojin, have you seen yourself.”

You laughed helplessly.

“That made no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense.”

Then quieter—

more honest now—

“I just mean…” Han rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I really like this.”

Your chest physically ached, because same, so much.

You’d expected relationships to feel dramatic maybe, complicated.

But this?

This felt strangely natural, like Han had already been part of your life long before either of you admitted what this was.

You reached for his hand carefully then, still nervous, still new enough that your stomach flipped doing something so simple. Han looked down immediately, then back at you. And the softness in his expression nearly destroyed you, because suddenly he smiled again. That same helpless happy smile he only seemed to have around you now.

Then quietly—

“…You know everyone’s gonna keep bullying us, right?”

You laughed softly.

“Definitely.”

“Felix is gonna become unbearable.”

“He already is.”

Han squeezed your hand gently, warm, careful, like he still couldn’t fully believe this was allowed now.

Then softly—

almost to himself—

“…Worth it.”

[skzficdump]

Secondhand XIV

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 2.1 K

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

part VII /part VIII / part IX / part X / part XI / part XII / part XIII / part XIV / part XV

The song changed everything, not officially. Neither of you confessed, nobody said the words directly.

But after that day—

the air between you and Han felt permanently altered, too honest now. Because once you hear someone love you out loud—even through lyrics—there’s no going back to pretending you imagined it.

Now every glance lingered longer, every touch felt intentional.

And worst of all—

both of you knew.

Not fully. Not verbally. But enough. Enough to make your heartbeat unbearable every time he looked at you, which was exactly why being alone together had become dangerous. And unfortunately for both of you, the universe apparently found this hilarious.

Friday night found you and Han alone again on the rooftop, not the abandoned building this time. Your apartment rooftop, smaller and quieter.

Snow had melted days ago, leaving cold wet concrete and winter air sharp enough to sting your lungs, the city glowed softly beneath the dark sky while distant traffic hummed somewhere below. You sat beside Han wrapped in blankets with your camera resting in your lap. Neither of you spoke for a while, ot awkward silence, worse. Comfortable silence. The kind that already felt intimate.

Han leaned back against the wall behind both of you while sipping cheap convenience store coffee. You glanced sideways at him carefully, and immediately regretted existing. Because lately looking at Han felt impossible.

Knowing he wrote those lyrics about you ruined your emotional stability completely, especially because now every tiny thing made sense.

The way he remembered everything you liked, the way he looked at you when you laughed, the way his voice softened around you instinctively.

Then suddenly:

“…Why are you staring.”

You nearly dropped your coffee immediately.

“I wasn’t.”

Han looked deeply unconvinced.

“You literally were.”

“I was thinking.”

“That’s even scarier.”

You rolled your eyes softly, but smiled anyway, and Han noticed that too, of course he did. Because lately he noticed everything about you, especially now.

Now that he knew you read the song, now that he knew you called it beautiful.

God.

That alone still replayed in his head constantly.

The cold wind picked up slightly around both of you, you shivered automatically. Immediately Han moved. Without thinking, he tugged part of the blanket higher around your shoulders carefully.

Your breath caught softly. There it was again, that unbearable tenderness. Like caring for you had become instinctive for him.

“…Thanks,” you murmured.

Han shrugged slightly.

“You’re always cold.”

“You smoke in winter jackets and somehow I’M the weak one?”

“I’m built different.”

“You’re built stupid.”

Han laughed softly beside you, and the sound made your chest ache.

God.

You loved him so much, the thought no longer scared you now, not really, now it just felt inevitable, like gravity.

For a while, both of you sat quietly watching the city lights.

Then eventually, softly—

“…Did you mean it?”

Han blinked beside you.

“What.”

You looked down at your coffee nervously.

“The song.”

Silence.

The wind moved softly through the rooftop. Han’s heartbeat became violent instantly.

Oh.

Oh no.

Slowly, carefully, he looked toward you. Your face stayed turned slightly away, but he could still see your nervousness. Your fingers tightening around the cup. The way you avoided his eyes. And suddenly Han realized something terrifying, you were nervous too, not uncomfortable nervous, hopeful nervous. His throat tightened immediately.

“…Yeah,” he answered quietly.

Honest. No jokes this time, no hiding, just truth. You looked up slowly.

And God—

the softness in your expression nearly destroyed him. The city noise faded strangely around both of you. Everything felt smaller suddenly, closer. Han could hear his own heartbeat, could see the reflection of rooftop lights in your eyes, and suddenly neither of you looked away. Your breathing slowed.

Han’s eyes dropped briefly—

to your lips.

Then immediately back to your eyes again, but you noticed, of course you noticed. Your heartbeat stumbled so hard it almost hurt.

Oh my God.

The space between you suddenly felt microscopic.

One movement, that was all it would take. Han shifted slightly closer without realizing. You didn’t move away, neither of you spoke, because now the tension felt almost unbearable. Not friendship tension anymore, not maybe, not almost. This was something else entirely.

Real.

Your lips parted slightly like you wanted to say something. Han’s hand tightened unconsciously around the blanket beside you.

And slowly—

carefully—

he leaned closer. Your breath caught instantly. He was close enough now that you could feel his warmth even through the freezing air, close enough to smell smoke and coffee and Han. Your eyes fluttered slightly.

And God—

Han wanted to kiss you so badly it physically hurt.

Then suddenly—

your apartment window slammed open below. Both of you jumped apart instantly like the universe personally attacked you.

Your mother’s voice echoed upward:

“SOOJIN? DID YOU LEAVE THE RICE COOKER ON?”

Silence, complete silence. Han stared blankly ahead like he’d just survived psychological warfare. You covered your face immediately.

“Oh my God.”

Han laughed once, completely broken sounding. The moment shattered instantly, gone, destroyed. And somehow that almost made it worse, because now both of you knew exactly what almost happened.

Your mother yelled again from downstairs.

“SOOJIN?”

“I’M COMING,” you yelled back weakly.

Neither of you moved for another second.

Then slowly—

Han looked toward you again, and the expression on his face nearly stopped your heart, like he wanted to kiss you still, like interrupting the moment hadn’t changed that at all. Your chest tightened painfully.

Then quietly, almost laughing at himself:

“…We were definitely about to do something stupid.”

You looked at him helplessly.

And softly—

“…Yeah.”

But neither of you sounded like you regretted it.

The almost-confession ruined both of you, not because anything bad happened, because now neither of you could pretend anymore.

The tension had become unbearable, actually unbearable. Every interaction felt too charged now, too close, too soft.

And worst of all—

both of you kept almost saying things. Then stopping, like cowards.

Three days after the rooftop incident, you and Han walked home alone after leaving Felix’s apartment late at night. Cold air bit at your cheeks while the streets of Seoul glowed softly beneath neon signs and convenience store lights. It had snowed earlier, leaving sidewalks wet and shining beneath streetlamps. Han walked beside you with his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets while you held your camera close against your chest.

And neither of you could act normal anymore.

At one point your hands brushed accidentally, both of you immediately reacted like you’d been electrocuted.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Han muttered.

You looked over immediately.

“What is?”

“You.”

Your heartbeat stumbled.

“…Me?”

Han groaned softly and rubbed his face.

“See? That.”

“That explained literally nothing.”

“You make everything weird now.”

You stopped walking immediately.

“I make things weird?”

Han turned toward you, equally offended.

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, you’re unbelievable.”

“I’m serious!”

“How am I making things weird?”

Han opened his mouth, then closed it immediately.

Because unfortunately the real answer was: because I want to kiss you every five seconds now.

Instead he looked away aggressively.

“You just do.”

You stared at him for a second, then suddenly laughed softly. And honestly? That made everything worse, because Han loved your laugh. Loved it so much it physically pissed him off sometimes.

“You’re laughing at my suffering.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“You did this to me.”

You blinked.

“…Did what.”

Han stopped walking.

The city noise blurred softly around both of you while cold wind moved through his blond hair, and suddenly the look on his face changed. Not teasing anymore. Not joking. Something more dangerous. Your heartbeat became violent immediately.

“…Han?”

He looked exhausted suddenly, like he was tired of fighting himself.

“Told you,” he muttered quietly.

“Told me what?”

“That you make things weird.”

Your chest tightened.

Because the way he looked at you right now—

God.

You couldn’t breathe normally around him anymore. Han laughed weakly under his breath and looked away toward the street.

“This is not how I wanted this to happen.”

Your stomach flipped instantly. What did that mean.

What did that mean??

Then quietly, almost to himself:

“I was gonna do this properly.”

Your breath caught.

Oh.

OH.

Han immediately realized he said that out loud.

“…Fuck.”

You stared at him helplessly. The air suddenly felt too cold.

“Do what properly?” you asked softly.

Han physically looked like he wanted to die, because this wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t romantic.

There were cars passing. Some guy smoking outside a restaurant. Felix had literally texted him three minutes ago asking if he stole his charger.

This was supposed to happen differently.

Still—

he looked at you. And completely lost the ability to lie.

“…Confess.”

Silence. Your heartbeat slammed violently against your ribs.

Han laughed once.

Nervous. Broken sounding.

Then suddenly the words started spilling out before he could stop them.

“Because this is insane now, Soojin.”

Your chest tightened painfully.

“You’re everywhere.” Han ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. “At school, in my songs, in my head— I literally found myself smiling at strawberry milk yesterday like a psychopath.”

A startled laugh escaped you through your panic. Han pointed at you immediately.

“See? That.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“It literally is.”

His voice softened suddenly after that. And somehow that was worse.

“God, I’m so…” He stopped and looked away briefly. “I’m so gone for you.”

The words hit like a punch directly to your chest, the street suddenly felt unreal. Your fingers tightened around your camera shakily. Han looked terrified now, actually terrified. Like saying this out loud physically exposed him.

“I know this probably makes everything complicated and I swear I wasn’t trying to pressure you or ruin what we have or—”

“Han.”

He stopped immediately. Your throat hurt suddenly, because how were you supposed to survive hearing him say things like that. You stared at him helplessly beneath cold city lights while your heart completely unraveled.

And softly—

“…You didn’t ruin anything.”

Han’s breathing stopped for half a second. You looked down briefly, nervous suddenly.

Then admitted quietly:

“I think I’m just as gone for you.”

Han stared at you, actually stared. Like his brain physically stopped processing information.

“…What.”

You laughed nervously.

“Oh my God.”

“No wait,” Han stepped closer immediately. “Say that again.”

Your heartbeat became violent.

“You heard me.”

“I think I hallucinated it.”

“You didn’t.”

Han looked genuinely overwhelmed now, like months of tension suddenly hit him all at once.

“You like me back?”

You stared at him flatly.

“Han, I literally have 700 pictures of you.”

“That could mean anything.”

“It absolutely does not.”

He laughed breathlessly then.

Relieved. Disbelieving. Happy.

And suddenly the tension between both of you snapped completely, because now there was nothing left hiding underneath it anymore.

Just truth. Your eyes met again.

And this time—

neither of you looked away.

The city noise faded softly into the background. Han stepped closer slowly, close enough now that your breath caught instantly. Your chest rose shakily while his eyes dropped briefly to your lips.

Then back to your eyes again.

And God—

the look on his face nearly killed you, like he wanted this too much, like he’d been holding himself back for months.

“Soojin,” he whispered softly.

You didn’t even realize you moved first.

One second there was space between you—

the next your hands grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him toward you desperately.

Han kissed you immediately.

Hard.

Messy.

Like he’d wanted this for way too long.

The force of it almost made you stumble backward against the wall beside the sidewalk while Han grabbed your waist instinctively to steady you without breaking the kiss once.

And God—

it felt desperate.

Not polished. Not careful.

Needy.

Like months of almost-touching and almost-confessions finally exploded all at once.

Your fingers slid shakily into his hair and Han made this wrecked sound against your mouth that nearly destroyed you instantly. He kissed you deeper immediately after that, hands tightening against your waist almost painfully like he couldn’t get close enough. Your heart felt completely out of control.

The cold night air. City lights. Cars passing somewhere nearby.

None of it mattered.

Only Han.

Only the way he kissed you like he was terrified you’d disappear if he stopped.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you breathed hard while staying impossibly close. Foreheads almost touching. Han looked completely ruined.

Lips swollen slightly. Hair messy now from your hands.

And somehow—

still staring at you like this couldn’t possibly be real.

Then suddenly he laughed softly against your mouth again, completely overwhelmed.

“…That was way better than my original plan.”

You burst into breathless laughter instantly.

“You HAD a plan?”

“I had a whole speech!”

“You literally confessed by accident.”

“Technically,” Han said weakly, “you emotionally cornered me.”

You laughed again.

And God—

Han thought he could spend the rest of his life chasing that sound.

taglist:@velvetmoonlght @jiaaabbahng @rrhwang

[skzficdump]

Secondhand XIII

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 3.7 K

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

part VI / part VII /part VIII / part IX / part X / part XI / part XII / part XIII / part XIV

It started because Felix canceled. Which honestly should’ve warned you the universe was planning something terrible.

By Friday afternoon, the original plan had been:

Felix invading your apartment dramatically

Changbin stealing all your food

Hyunjin pretending not to care while secretly staying until midnight

and Han existing somewhere in the middle of all that chaos

Group settings meant you didn’t have to think too hard about the way your heart acted around Han lately.

Unfortunately, around four in the afternoon Felix texted the group chat:

emergency my cousin is crying don’t ask questions

Followed immediately by Changbin:

my mom said no

Then Hyunjin:

honestly i never agreed to go anyway

Traitors, absolute traitors. Which left only one problem.

Han.

Because Han was already outside your apartment building holding snacks when the texts arrived. You stared at your phone dramatically while standing near the doorway.

“This feels targeted.”

Han leaned against the wall beside you looking equally betrayed.

“We got abandoned.”

“By all our friends.”

“They were never our friends.”

You laughed softly despite yourself, because being alone with Han lately felt different. Not uncomfortable, worse. Too comfortable. Like both of you had slowly started slipping into something neither of you fully knew how to name yet.

Still—

neither of you wanted to cancel. Which was probably the first mistake.

“Do you still wanna hang out?” you asked carefully.

Han looked at you like the answer was obvious.

“…Yeah?”

Your stomach flipped immediately.

So ten minutes later, Han sat cross-legged on your living room floor while Dori attacked his shoelaces violently.

And somehow—

everything already felt weirdly domestic. You hated it, a little.

Your apartment smelled like instant noodles and laundry detergent while winter light spilled softly through the windows. Your mom wouldn’t be home until late, meaning the entire place felt quiet in a way it usually didn’t when the group came over.

Just you, Han and Dori emotionally destroying society. Han looked around the apartment while opening snacks.

“…It’s weirdly clean in here.”

You narrowed your eyes immediately.

“That sounded insulting.”

“It sounded surprised.”

“You’re rude.”

“You have three cups on your desk growing ecosystems.”

“That’s called science.”

Han snorted softly.

God.

You loved that sound. Terrible realization.

Dori suddenly climbed into Han’s lap dramatically, immediately demanding attention. Han looked down.

“…Your son is needy.”

You nearly choked.

“Do NOT start with that again.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You implied.”

Han grinned slightly while scratching beneath Dori’s chin.

And unfairly—

he looked stupidly pretty right now. Oversized hoodie, messy blond hair, comfortable in your apartment like he belonged there. Your chest felt dangerous suddenly. You immediately stood up.

“I’m making ramen.”

Han looked up suspiciously.

“Running away?”

“What?”

“You do that.”

“I literally don’t.”

“Mhm.”

You ignored him aggressively while moving into the kitchen. Unfortunately, your apartment was tiny, meaning Han could still see you perfectly from the floor and apparently he intended to make your life harder.

“You know,” he called casually, “you’re weirdly bad at hiding things.”

You froze slightly near the stove.

“…What things.”

“Your emotions.”

Your heartbeat stumbled immediately, absolutely not. You refused to turn around.

“Well maybe you’re just nosy.”

“I am.”

The honesty caught you off guard enough to accidentally drop chopsticks. Han burst into laughter immediately.

“Oh my God.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re flustered.”

“I’m holding noodles.”

“That’s not a denial.”

You hated him, a little, maybe a lot. Mostly because he was right. Lately you’d become embarrassingly obvious around him. Especially after realizing you loved him, which still felt insane.

Sometimes you looked at Han and genuinely wondered when exactly this happened. When he became the first person you wanted to tell things to. When your apartment started feeling emptier without him in it. When his happiness started mattering so much to you.

Meanwhile behind you, Han watched quietly from the living room. And honestly? He was suffering too, because being alone with you like this felt unfair. Too intimate. The tiny apartment, your socks sliding against the kitchen floor. the way you absentmindedly hummed softly while cooking. It felt less like hanging out and more like accidentally playing house. Which was ruining him emotionally.

Then suddenly you yelped. Han immediately sat up straighter.

“What happened?”

“…Oil.”

“What.”

“It attacked me.”

Han stared at you blankly.

“You got injured by ramen?”

“You don’t understand the violence happening over here.”

He walked into the kitchen before you could protest, grabbing your wrist gently to inspect the tiny red mark near your finger.

And immediately—

everything stopped. Your breath caught slightly. because now he was close. Again. Always too close lately.

Han’s fingers stayed wrapped lightly around your hand while he frowned dramatically at the injury.

“…You’re surviving?”

“Barely.”

“You’re so brave.”

His thumb brushed lightly against your skin without thinking.The entire kitchen suddenly felt too small. You looked up, Han was already looking at you, too soft, too focused. Your heartbeat became violent.

Then Dori screamed somewhere in the apartment, both of you jumped apart instantly. Han cleared his throat aggressively.

“…Your child interrupted the moment.”

“There was no moment.”

“There was definitely a moment.”

You turned back toward the stove immediately before your face combusted. Han smiled helplessly to himself behind you. God. He was so in love with you it was becoming medically concerning.

Dinner ended up with both of you sitting on the floor beside the couch eating ramen from the pot directly because apparently neither of you respected social norms anymore.

Dori sat between you both like a tiny furry dictator.

“This is probably unhealthy,” you muttered.

Han pointed his chopsticks toward you.

“Rich people always say stuff like that before doing fun things.”

“You say ‘rich people’ like I personally invented capitalism.”

“You kinda did.”

You laughed again, and again Han felt that stupid warm ache in his chest.

Because lately your laughter sounded different, freer, lke pieces of you were slowly healing.

The movie started afterward mostly by accident, neither of you even paid attention to choosing it. Something random played softly in the background while snow started falling outside your windows again.

At some point, Han ended up stretched across the couch while you sat beside him beneath blankets. Too close, definitely too close.

Especially because your apartment heating sucked. Which meant both of you kept naturally moving closer for warmth without acknowledging it.

Then halfway through the movie:

“…Are you crying?”

Your head snapped toward Han immediately.

“I am NOT.”

“You literally are.”

“It’s emotional manipulation.”

Han looked deeply offended.

“This movie is about a dog.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

You wiped your eyes aggressively.

“Shut up.”

Han laughed softly beside you.

Then after a second, quieter—

“…You’re cute when you cry.”

Your entire nervous system stopped functioning.

“What.”

Han froze too, again. Apparently his mouth had become dangerously honest lately.

He recovered badly.

“I mean—”

“You have GOT to stop saying things like that.”

“Like what?”

“THAT.”

Han looked suspiciously amused now.

“Why.”

Because I’m in love with you. The answer nearly escaped accidentally.

You immediately grabbed a pillow and hit him with it instead. Han nearly fell off the couch laughing.

“You’re violent.”

“You deserve it.”

Dori looked deeply judgmental from the floor.

Hours passed like that. Movies, snacks, mini-arguments.

At one point Han tried teaching you how to play a game and immediately regretted it because you became aggressively competitive.

“You cheated.”

“I literally explained the rules.”

“Manipulated.”

“That’s not what manipulation means.”

Eventually, sometime after midnight, the apartment grew quieter, softer. The movie ended unnoticed in the background while snow covered the windows outside.

And somehow—

without either of you realizing when it happened—

you ended up curled slightly against Han’s side beneath blankets, not fully cuddling, not intentionally.

Just… there.

Natural.

Han looked down slowly when he noticed. Your head rested lightly against his shoulder while Dori slept curled against your legs, and suddenly his chest hurt so badly with affection he almost couldn’t breathe.

Because this— this right here—

felt terrifyingly close to happiness. You shifted slightly sleepily against him.

Then mumbled softly:

“…You smell like cigarettes.”

Han looked offended immediately.

“You say that like it’s bad.”

“It’s very bad.”

“You still keep stealing my hoodies.”

“That’s unrelated.”

Han laughed quietly. Then before he could stop himself—

he rested his head lightly against yours.

The silence afterward felt impossibly intimate. Your breathing, the heater humming softly, snow falling outside, neither of you moved away, neither of you wanted to.

And honestly? That was the scariest part. Because somewhere between ramen, bus rides, rooftops, grief, Dori, and winter nights—

you and Han had accidentally built something that already felt dangerously close to love.

At some point during the movie, you fell asleep. Han noticed immediately. One second you were mumbling something half-coherent about the plot making no sense, curled beneath blankets beside him—

and the next your voice faded softly into silence.

Han looked down. Your head rested fully against his shoulder now, breathing slow and even while Dori slept curled near your legs like a tiny guardian.

And for a second—

Han forgot how to breathe normally.

Because God, you looked peaceful. Not the tired kind of peaceful you usually looked lately, not pretending-to-be-okay peaceful. Actually calm.

Your lashes rested softly against your cheeks while strands of hair fell messily across your face, and Han physically felt his chest ache with affection so intense it almost scared him.

He was so gone, hopelessly, completely.

Han carefully reached for the blanket draped across the couch and pulled it higher around your shoulders gently. You shifted slightly in your sleep, then instinctively leaned closer toward him again. Han froze immediately.

“…You’re killing me,” he whispered softly to absolutely nobody.

Dori opened one eye briefly like he agreed. The apartment stayed quiet around him. Movie credits rolled silently in the background while snow tapped softly against the windows.

And honestly?

Han could’ve stayed like this all night, but eventually he glanced toward the clock and sighed quietly.

You’d wake up tomorrow with neck pain and complain dramatically for at least three business days, so reluctantly, Han carefully shifted away from you. Immediately the cold rushed back into the empty space beside him. You frowned slightly in your sleep like you noticed the warmth disappearing.

Han’s heart nearly stopped functioning, absolutely terrible. He stood up quietly and stretched slightly before glancing toward your bedroom door.

Okay.

Plan:

move you to bed

leave quietly

survive emotionally

Simple, probably.

Han walked softly into your room first to fix the blankets before carrying you there.

And the second he stepped inside—

something shifted.

Your room felt…

you.

Not in the obvious way, bot because of decorations or clothes or perfume lingering softly in the air. It was deeper than that. The kind of space someone slowly builds around themselves without realizing it. Your camera sat near the desk beside scattered photo prints and notebooks, sweaters draped over your chair carelessly, tiny fairy lights glowed faintly along one wall and suddenly Han had the terrifying realization that he could picture himself here too easily, like this room already felt familiar to him somehow.

Han walked toward the bed quietly while fixing the blankets absentmindedly. Then paused, something caught his eye near your nightstand. A photograph, half-hidden beneath a book like it had been shoved there quickly.

Han frowned slightly and picked it up carefully, then immediately froze.

It was him.

A printed photo of him.

And the worst part? It was a old foto. One of the first times they went out, hugging a skateboard, one that you took with your old camera, before you had to sell it. Han’s heartbeat stumbled instantly, because this wasn’t just another random picture. This one was printed, kept beside your bed.

His chest already hurt before he even turned it over, then he saw the writing on the back, small messy handwriting, your handwriting.

maybe he´s really cute, i was lucky to find him.

Silence, complete silence. Han stared at the words helplessly while something inside his chest completely unraveled.

Oh.

Oh my God.

His throat tightened painfully.

Because suddenly every fear he’d had lately— every uncertainty, every moment wondering if he imagined this—

disappeared instantly.

You loved him, maybe not out loud yet, maybe not intentionally, but nobody wrote things like that about someone they didn’t love. Han sat down slowly at the edge of your bed, still staring at the photo like it might disappear.

And honestly?

He had never felt this loved in his entire life, not loudly, not dramatically, quietly. In hidden pictures and saved chocolates and cameras full of his face, your love existed in details and somehow that made it hurt even worse.

Han pressed the photo carefully against his chest for one second before placing it exactly back where he found it, then quietly laughed to himself, completely gone, absolutely destroyed.

A few minutes later, he finally carried you into your room, you stirred slightly the second he lifted you, instinctively grabbing weakly at his hoodie in your sleep. Han almost died instantly.

“Yeah,” he whispered softly while adjusting his grip carefully. “Okay.”

You buried your face sleepily against his neck without waking up properly, and suddenly Han genuinely understood why people wrote love songs. He laid you down carefully beneath your blankets afterward while Dori immediately jumped onto the bed beside you.

Traitor.

You shifted slightly in your sleep before mumbling something incoherent into your pillow. Han smiled helplessly, then instinctively brushed hair gently away from your face, like touching something precious.

And God—

he loved you so much it physically scared him sometimes. Han finally stepped back afterward and quietly moved toward the bedroom door, only to nearly jump out of his skin when he found your mother standing there.

Watching.

Oh no.

Han froze immediately.

Your mother looked equally surprised for half a second.

Then instead of shock—

her expression softened.

Because honestly? The scene in front of her was painfully obvious.

Her daughter asleep peacefully for once. Han standing beside the bed looking at her like she hung the stars. It wasn’t subtle, not even a little. Han immediately bowed awkwardly.

“I was just— she fell asleep and I didn’t wanna leave her on the couch and—”

Your mother smiled slightly.

“It’s okay.”

Han still looked horrified anyway.

“I should probably go.”

But instead of moving, your mother quietly glanced toward you sleeping. Then toward the photo near your nightstand, then finally back at Han and something clicked immediately.

Oh.

This boy was hopelessly in love with her daughter.

The realization felt strangely comforting, your mother leaned softly against the doorway.

“She smiles more now.”

Han blinked once.

“…What?”

“Since meeting you.”

His chest tightened painfully. Your mother looked toward you again.

“She was hurting so much before.”

Han followed her gaze quietly, you looked peaceful now, safe, warm beneath blankets while Dori purred beside you and suddenly Han realized something terrifying again. He would do absolutely anything to protect that peace.

Your mother noticed the look on his face immediately, and honestly? That alone told her everything she needed to know.

So softly, almost teasing:

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Han froze completely, silence filled the hallway.

Because suddenly saying it out loud— even like this— felt huge.

Terrifying.

Real.

Han looked toward you one more time.

Then quietly—

“…Yeah.”

The answer came so naturally it almost surprised him. Your mother smiled softly after that, not shocked, not upset, just gentle.

Like she had known long before either of you did. Then quietly she opened the apartment door for him.

“Go home before your mother thinks you disappeared again.”

Han laughed softly under his breath, right, that.

But before leaving, he looked back toward your room one last time. And honestly? He had never wanted anything more than to stay.

Han wrote the song at 3:47 a.m, because apparently loving you had destroyed his ability to sleep properly, again.

Rain tapped softly against his bedroom window while the rest of the apartment stayed silent, but Han sat awake at his desk with headphones around his neck and his notebook open in front of him.

Your photograph sat beside it, not physically, it wasn’t insane. But mentally? Constantly.

Everything reminded him of you now, strawberry milk, bus rides, snow, cats, certain songs, the color of winter sunsets. It was getting embarrassing.

Han rubbed tiredly at his face before looking back down at the page in front of him, at first he tried writing about something else, anything else, but every line kept circling back to you somehow.

So eventually—

he stopped fighting it.

And wrote you instead, not your name, never your name. That felt too dangerous. Still, every lyric carried you inside it anyway, the camera around your neck, the loneliness in your eyes when you first transferred schools, the way you slowly learned how to laugh again, the apartment, the rooftop, the ocean, home.

By the time sunlight started bleeding faintly into the sky outside, Han finally leaned back in his chair and stared at the finished page. Then immediately felt sick, because this wasn’t subtle, not even slightly. This was a confession disguised as music.

And somehow—

that made it worse.

Han looked down at one particular part again.

you found me somewhere between bus stops and winter skies you held broken things like they were still worth saving and somehow you looked at me the same way your camera knows my face better than i do every blurry photograph still feels like home if you asked me to stay, i think i would for every lifetime after this one too

Han physically covered his face with his hands.

“Oh my God.”

This was bad, really bad, because now he had proof, physical proof. Evidence of how completely in love with you he actually was.

And unfortunately—

he couldn’t stop writing more.

Over the next week, the song became his obsession. He worked on it everywhere, in class, on buses, at lunch, while Felix screamed about unrelated problems nearby.

You noticed immediately, obviously, because Han had become suspiciously attached to his notebook lately. Anytime someone got near it, he reacted like it contained government secrets, which honestly wasn’t entirely wrong. Right now it basically contained his heart.

Friday afternoon found all of you at your apartment again while snow fell softly outside. Changbin and Felix argued loudly over games on the floor while Hyunjin sketched near the window. Meanwhile Han sat at your kitchen counter with headphones on, completely lost in his notebook again, you watched him quietly from the couch.

And honestly?

He looked beautiful like this, focused, hair falling slightly into his eyes while his fingers tapped softly against the pen, your chest hurt gently.

God, you were so in love with him.

Then suddenly Felix yelled dramatically:

“I’M STARVING.”

Han flinched so hard he nearly dropped the notebook, everyone looked at him immediately. Changbin narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“…Okay what’s in that thing.”

“Nothing.”

“That was guilty.”

Hyunjin didn’t even look up.

“It’s obviously lyrics.”

Your heart skipped slightly. Han always wrote songs.

But lately—

they felt different somehow, and something about the way he guarded this specific notebook made curiosity bloom painfully inside you.

Felix immediately lunged across the floor dramatically.

“SHOW US.”

Han physically recoiled.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh my GOD it’s about someone.”

“It’s literally not.”

“That sounded even guiltier.”

Han looked seconds away from spontaneous death. And honestly? Watching him panic this hard made you suspicious too now.

Then suddenly Dori betrayed society, the kitten launched himself directly onto the kitchen counter, knocking a pencil sideways. Han reacted instantly, the notebook slipped from his hands and landed directly at your feet.

Silence, everyone froze. Han’s soul visibly left his body. You looked down automatically.

Then before your brain could stop you—

your eyes caught a lyric.

she still says sorry before crying

Your breath caught immediately.

Oh.

Your fingers moved before thinking, lifting the notebook slightly. Han stood up so fast the chair nearly fell backward.

“Soojin wait—”

But now you were already reading.

you sleep better wearing my hoodies you laugh with your whole heart when you forget to be sad i think i fell in love somewhere between your apartment lights and winter

The room disappeared. Your heartbeat became violent.

No.

No way.

Slowly—

very slowly—

you looked up.

Han stood completely frozen across the kitchen.

Horrified.

Terrified.

Exposed.

And suddenly everything clicked together all at once.

The rooftop.

The way he looked at you.

The jealousy.

The care.

The softness in his voice whenever he said your name.

Oh my God.

This song was about you.

Felix looked between both of you slowly.

Then immediately grabbed Changbin.

“WE NEED TO GO.”

Changbin blinked.

“We do?”

“Yes.”

Hyunjin already stood up calmly.

“Finally.”

Within seconds all three of them disappeared into the hallway with Dori like trained professionals fleeing a crime scene, leaving just you and Han. Silence filled the apartment instantly, Han looked like he wanted to evaporate. You still held the notebook carefully in your hands while your chest felt impossibly tight.

“…Han.”

“I can explain.”

The answer came too fast.

Panic.

You looked back down at the page again. At the words, at the way every line quietly loved you and suddenly your eyes burned slightly. Because nobody had ever looked at you like this before, not really. Not enough to write songs about your sadness and your laughter and the way you held cameras. Han rubbed a hand over his face aggressively.

“This is so embarrassing.”

You looked up immediately.

“Embarrassing?”

“Yes!”

“It’s beautiful.”

Han froze again, completely.

Your own heartbeat became dangerous now too because oh my God did you just say that out loud. But it was true, the song felt warm, like being understood too deeply. Han stared at you helplessly.

“…You really think so?”

Your chest physically hurt at how nervous he sounded.

So softly—

“Han… nobody has ever written about me like this before.”

Because nobody had ever loved you like this before, the realization hung silently between both of you.

Han’s eyes searched your face carefully like he was trying to survive this moment without combusting. And honestly? You weren’t doing much better. Because now you knew, not suspected, not hoped. Knew. Han Jisung loved you enough to turn you into music.

taglist:@velvetmoonlght @jiaaabbahng @rrhwang

[skzficdump]

Secondhand XII

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 3.8 k

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

part V / part VI / part VII /part VIII / part IX / part X / part XI / part XII / part XIII

Han realized he was in love with you on a Tuesday night at 2:14 a.m, not dramatically, not all at once. It happened quietly. The way most terrifying things do.

He sat alone at his desk, headphones resting around his neck while dim city light spilled through his bedroom window. Everyone in his apartment had already gone to sleep hours ago, but Han couldn’t.

Lately he almost never could, because every time things got quiet, his thoughts drifted toward you automatically. Your laugh, your hands around your camera, the way you looked wearing his hoodies like you belonged in them, the sound of your voice saying his name. It was getting bad, like really bad.

Han sighed quietly and flipped open his notebook again. At first he tried writing lyrics. Then random thoughts. Then doodles in the corners of pages like always.

And without realizing it—

he started drawing you, again. This wasn’t even the first time anymore.

Your eyes first, then your hair, the tiny shape of your smile. He knew your face too well now, enough to recreate it from memory without trying. Which honestly should’ve concerned him earlier.

Han stared down at the sketch silently once it was finished.

You.

Smiling softly the way you did whenever Dori climbed into your lap.

His chest hurt immediately. Because suddenly the realization hit him all at once.

Oh.

Oh no.

This wasn’t a crush anymore.

This wasn’t: you’re pretty or I like spending time with you.

This was worse, way worse.

Han loved you. Actually loved you. The kind that settled into your bones quietly until suddenly you couldn’t imagine your life without someone in it anymore. The kind that made him remember tiny details about you without trying. The kind that made seeing you cry physically painful. The kind that made him want impossible things.

A future, home. You.

Han stared at the notebook helplessly before grabbing his pen again.

Then slowly, beneath your sketch, he wrote:

cause all i want is you not your tears, until there’s no more i wanna make you the happiest one no fear so, baby, hold my hand now

Silence filled the room afterward. Han read the lyrics once, then again.

And suddenly his chest felt unbearably full, because it was true. Every word.

He wanted your happiness more than his own now.

And honestly?

That terrified him.

The next morning, Han made a decision. He was going to tell you, and immediately his life became significantly worse, because once Han decided something, he spiraled about it aggressively.

All day he couldn’t focus. Felix noticed first.

“You look haunted.”

“I am.”

“That’s concerning.”

Han ignored him completely while internally rehearsing confessions like he was preparing for war.

Maybe: I think I like you.

No. Too weak.

Maybe: You’ve become really important to me.

Too divorced father.

Maybe: I’m in love with you.

Absolutely not. He would rather die instantly.

Meanwhile across the classroom, you sat completely unaware while taking pictures of snow outside the window, and Han physically had to look away because his feelings were becoming medically dangerous. Changbin slowly narrowed his eyes from beside him.

“…Oh my God.”

“What.”

“You’re finally gonna confess.”

Han looked horrified immediately.

“WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT SO LOUD.”

Felix gasped dramatically.

“YOU ARE?”

“NO.”

“You just reacted like someone who is.”

Hyunjin looked up calmly from his sketchbook.

“You’ve been staring at her for ten minutes.”

Han immediately dropped his head against the desk.

“I hate all of you.”

But despite the suffering—

he really was going to do it.

For the first time in weeks, Han actually planned something, not well, but emotionally.

He bought your favorite strawberry milk from the convenience store after school, carried extra gloves because you always forgot yours. Even cleaned up the abandoned rooftop slightly earlier that afternoon because he knew you liked how the city looked at sunset from there.

It was pathetic, deeply pathetic.

And somehow—

that made it more real.

By evening, snow drifted softly across Seoul while Han waited upstairs near the rooftop windows with his hands shoved nervously into his hoodie pockets.

Your favorite drink sat beside him. His heartbeat hadn’t calmed down once in the past hour. Then footsteps echoed softly upstairs.

You appeared moments later, slightly out of breath from climbing.

“There you are,” you said softly. “Felix said you were being weird.”

Han snorted nervously.

“Accurate.”

You smiled slightly while walking closer, and immediately Han’s thoughts got worse, because you looked beautiful tonight.

Oversized coat. Scarf covering half your face. Snowflakes caught in your hair.

His chest physically ached.

You noticed the drinks first.

“…You bought strawberry milk.”

“Maybe.”

Your smile softened instantly.

For a while, things felt normal. You sat beside him near the broken window while the city glowed beneath snowfall.

Talking quietly, laughing softly, your shoulder brushing his every now and then.

And honestly?

That almost made confessing harder.

Because right now he still had you.

If he spoke—

that could change.

Still, eventually Han forced himself to look at you properly.

Your cheeks pink from cold. Your camera resting in your lap. Comfortable beside him in a way that felt terrifyingly natural now.

And suddenly he knew.

This was the moment.

Perfect moment.

Just say it.

Han’s heartbeat pounded violently.

“Soojin.”

You looked up immediately.

“Hm?”

His throat tightened.

Say it.

“I…” Han stopped.

Your expression softened slightly.

“What?”

The words sat right there. Three words away from changing everything.

But then suddenly—

fear hit him all at once.

What if this ruined everything?

What if you pulled away afterward?

What if he lost this— the buses, the rooftop, your apartment, Dori, your laughter, all of it—

because he got selfish?

Han stared at you, at the warmth in your eyes when you looked at him. And completely lost his nerve.

“…I think Felix stole my lighter again.”

Silence.

You blinked once.

“…What.”

Han wanted to throw himself off the building immediately.

Coward.

Absolute coward.

But then unexpectedly—

you laughed.

Soft.

Completely unaware you had just survived his confession by accident.

“I knew this was about something stupid.”

Han smiled weakly.

“Yeah.”

But afterward, while you kept talking beside him about something Dori destroyed earlier—

Han quietly looked away toward the city lights, and realized something even scarier. He wasn’t afraid of confessing because you might reject him. He was afraid because loving you had already become the most important thing in his life.

And if he lost you after saying it out loud—

he genuinely didn’t know who he’d be anymore.

You realized you were in love with Han Jisung because of a cigarette, which honestly felt unfair.

It happened two weeks after the almost-confession you never knew almost happened.

Two weeks of existing in that unbearable space where everything between you and Han felt too soft to be friendship anymore but too unspoken to become anything else.

And lately—

it was getting harder to ignore.

The way your day automatically felt better when you saw him first thing in the morning. The way you searched for him in crowded rooms without thinking. The way your body reacted before your brain every time he touched you.

Still, you kept pretending none of it meant anything, because admitting it out loud felt terrifying. So naturally, the universe decided to humble you violently.

It started after school.

The five of you were walking through the city while snow melted slowly into wet sidewalks beneath gray skies. Felix and Changbin argued loudly ahead about music while Hyunjin smoked quietly beside them.

You walked slightly behind with Han, like always.

At some point Han suddenly stopped.

“…Wait.”

You blinked.

“What.”

“My cigarettes.”

You frowned immediately.

“You smoke too much.”

“Wrong. I smoke exactly enough.”

“That sentence sounded concerning.”

Han grinned slightly before checking his hoodie pockets again.

Then sighed dramatically.

“I left them somewhere.”

“Good.”

“You sound like a disappointed wife.”

Your heartbeat stumbled instantly.

Annoying.

Very annoying.

Before you could answer, Hyunjin looked back toward both of you.

“I have one left.”

Han immediately reached toward him dramatically.

“Hyunjin, I owe you my life.”

“I know.”

Hyunjin handed him the cigarette casually before walking ahead again with the others.

And then—

something small happened, something stupid. Han looked down at the cigarette in his hand for a second, then toward you.

And quietly—

“…Do you mind?”

You blinked.

“What?”

“If I smoke.”

The world paused strangely for half a second, because Han always smoked. Not heavily. Not constantly. But enough that you were used to seeing him with cigarettes during late nights or stressful days.

And yet—

he was asking you, like your opinion mattered,like he cared whether it bothered you. Something warm twisted painfully inside your chest.

You looked at him quietly.

“…You’re asking me?”

Han shrugged slightly.

“Well yeah.”

The answer came naturally, like it was obvious, like of course your comfort mattered to him.

And suddenly—

everything clicked into place all at once. Not dramatically, but quietly. Like a thousand tiny moments finally connecting together.

Han waiting outside your apartment in the cold. Han carrying your money because he worried someone would steal it. Han remembering your favorite chocolates. Han holding you outside the prison while you cried into his hoodie. Han bringing home Dori because he couldn’t stand the thought of you hurting more. Han making room for you in every part of his life without hesitation.

Your chest tightened painfully.

Oh.

Oh no.

You loved him, actually loved him.

Not in the vague confusing way you’d been pretending for weeks.

Not: maybe I like him.

Not: he makes me nervous.

This was worse.

Way worse.

You loved him in the terrifying irreversible way where someone quietly becomes home before you even realize it happened, and suddenly every moment between you made sense.

The jealousy. The tension. The way your entire body softened around him instinctively. The reason waking up in his arms felt safer than anywhere else. The reason his happiness mattered to you so much it physically hurt sometimes.

You stared at him too long.

Han noticed immediately.

“…What.”

Your throat tightened.

Because now that you knew—

really knew—

looking at him suddenly felt unbearable.

His messy blond hair, the tiny mole in his cheek, the way he looked at you with constant quiet care like loving you was already instinctive for him too. Your heartbeat became violent.

You looked away quickly.

“…Nothing.”

Han narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“That sounded fake.”

“I’m serious.”

“You’re acting weird.”

Because I’m in love with you.

The thought hit so hard it almost scared you.

You loved Han Jisung.

God.

You were so screwed.

Meanwhile Han still stood there holding the unlit cigarette while staring at you in growing confusion.

“…Soojin.”

“What.”

“…Do you want me to smoke or not?”

Right.

The cigarette.

You blinked rapidly.

“…Oh.”

Han snorted softly.

“You good?”

Absolutely not.

You nodded anyway.

“Yeah. I don’t mind.”

Han studied your face carefully for another second, like he knew something shifted, like he could feel it somehow.

Then finally he lit the cigarette quietly. The smoke curled softly into the cold evening air while the city moved around both of you.

And suddenly your chest hurt in the gentlest way possible, because now you understood something terrifying.

Every version of your future suddenly had Han in it and you didn’t know when that started happening.

You had been popular at your old school, that much wasn’t new. Pretty rich girls with famous last names usually were.

What surprised you was that apparently transferring to public school hadn’t changed that as much as you expected.

Because somehow—

boys still stared. Constantly. Not in the polished, calculated way they used to at your old school either. This was worse, messier, more obvious.

And unfortunately—

Han noticed every single time, not that he admitted it. At least not out loud. But lately it had started bothering him in ways he genuinely didn’t know how to control. Especially because you were completely unaware of your own effect on people.

Which Han found deeply irritating. You’d just exist casually looking pretty without realizing what that did to everyone around you.

Walking through hallways with your oversized sweaters and camera around your neck like you weren’t emotionally destabilizing half the male population.

Terrible behavior honestly.

The problem started on Thursday.

Han arrived late to class and immediately regretted existing because the first thing he heard was:

“Bro, she’s actually insane pretty.”

Han looked up slowly.

A group of guys near the windows were talking loudly while scrolling through something on a phone.

And unfortunately—

your name immediately caught his attention.

“Soojin?”

“Yeah.”

One of them whistled dramatically.

“She’s literally movie-level pretty.”

Han hated how possessive his chest felt instantly.

Not possessive.

Protective.

Probably.

Maybe.

Whatever.

Then another guy spoke up.

“I’m confessing tomorrow.”

Silence.

Han’s head snapped toward him immediately.

Oh absolutely not.

The guy grinned proudly while the others immediately started yelling over each other.

“You’re gonna get rejected.”

“No she won’t.”

“She definitely will.”

“I already planned it.”

Han narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

That sentence sounded dangerous.

And then—

the guy explained his idea. Flowers, public confession, a stupid banner, possibly singing.

Han physically felt rage enter his bloodstream.

Because:

you would hate public attention like that

singing should honestly be illegal

absolutely not.

And suddenly Han realized something horrifying.

He cared.

Like— really cared.

Enough that hearing another guy talk about confessing to you made him irrationally angry, enough that he immediately spent the rest of class planning emotional sabotage.

Which honestly felt unhealthy, but whatever.

You entered the classroom twenty minutes later carrying coffee and looking half-asleep.

Han immediately stood up.

“Come here.”

You blinked.

“…Good morning to you too?”

“Sit here.”

You frowned suspiciously.

“That’s your seat.”

“Not anymore.”

You stared at him slowly.

“…Are you okay.”

“No.”

“Honest king.”

Han ignored that completely while aggressively pulling your chair beside his instead. And for the next hour, he refused to let you leave his general vicinity. At first you thought he was just being weird again.

Then it kept happening.

Between classes: “Soojin come with me.”

Lunch: “No don’t sit there.”

Hallway: “Wrong direction.”

You finally stopped walking and stared at him suspiciously.

“…Han.”

“What.”

“…Are you hiding me from the government.”

Han looked offended.

“What kind of sentence is that.”

“You’ve been dragging me around all day.”

“I’m protecting you.”

You blinked.

“…From what.”

Han froze for half a second.

Because unfortunately: other men was apparently not an acceptable answer.

So instead he shrugged aggressively.

“Bad vibes.”

“That means nothing.”

“It means trust me.”

And annoyingly—

you did. Which honestly only made Han’s feelings worse, because every time you followed him without questioning it too much, his chest did this stupid warm painful thing that made him want to scream into traffic.

Unfortunately—

his emotional protection plan eventually failed. Because during lunch break, while Han left briefly to buy drinks with Changbin, the guy finally approached you.

Of course.

You stood near the vending machines scrolling through photos on your camera when suddenly:

“Uh… hey.”

You looked up politely.

A guy from another class, cute, objectively, nervous too.

“Oh,” you said softly. “Hi.”

Across the courtyard, Han returned just in time to witness the interaction and immediately felt homicidal. Changbin looked beside him.

Then slowly:

“…Oh no.”

Han already looked furious.

Not visibly furious, somehow worse. Quiet furious, the dangerous kind.

Meanwhile you smiled politely at the guy while he awkwardly introduced himself.

And because you were nice—

because you always listened carefully when people talked to you—

you gave him your full attention.

Han hated that instantly. The guy laughed nervously at something you said. You laughed back softly. Han’s eye twitched. Changbin physically grabbed his arm immediately.

“DO NOT make this weird.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You look one inconvenience away from violence.”

Meanwhile the guy kept talking.

And the worst part?

You looked pretty, really pretty. Snowflakes catching in your hair while your cheeks turned pink from the cold. Han wanted to fight God.

Eventually the guy finally left after awkwardly asking for your number. Which you very politely avoided answering directly because honestly?

You panicked.

Then immediately afterward:

“…What was that.”

You turned.

Han stood there holding drinks while looking deeply emotionally disturbed. Changbin looked exhausted already.

You blinked.

“…A conversation?”

Han narrowed his eyes.

“He was flirting with you.”

“Oh.”

OH?

Han stared at you like you personally offended him.

“That’s your reaction?”

“What was I supposed to say?”

“No idea but not OH.”

You laughed slightly at his expression.

And unfortunately—

that made things worse, because now Han noticed something else.

You looked happy, not romantically happy, just amused. And suddenly jealousy twisted painfully in his chest, because some random guy got to make you smile. Which was ridiculous, Han knew that.

So instead of taking it out on you—

he became aggressively annoyed at everything else instead.

Changbin walking too slow? Annoying.

The vending machine eating his coins? Infuriating.

Felix breathing too loudly later? Unacceptable.

By the end of the day, everyone noticed.

Felix narrowed his eyes dramatically.

“…He’s jealous.”

Han nearly choked.

“I am NOT.”

Hyunjin looked up calmly from his sketchbook.

“You glared at that guy like a divorced father.”

“That sentence means nothing.”

“It means you’re in love with her,” Felix answered.

Han froze immediately. Then aggressively shoved Felix’s shoulder.

“Shut up.”

But unfortunately—

while the others laughed and teased him mercilessly—

Han quietly looked toward you across the room. You sat near the windows reviewing photos on your camera completely unaware of the emotional warfare happening because of you.

And honestly?

That was the worst part.

Because Han knew he had absolutely no right feeling this jealous.

You weren’t his.

At least—

not yet.

The jealousy should’ve passed after lunch, spoiler, it didn’t.

Han still felt irrationally irritated hours latern not at you, never at you. At the random guy, at himself, at the fact that apparently seeing someone flirt with you made him emotionally unstable now.

Which was deeply embarrassing. So by sixth period, Han had decided two things:

he was pathetic.

he needed to calm down immediately.

Unfortunately, that became impossible the second you accidentally left your camera behind.

The classroom had mostly emptied between classes, students flooding into hallways while teachers yelled vaguely about homework. Han stayed behind leaning against his desk while Changbin complained loudly nearby about math.

Then suddenly—

he noticed your camera sitting alone on the desk beside the window. Han frowned slightly.

“…Soojin forgot her camera.”

Changbin looked over once.

“Oh. Grab it before someone steals it.”

Right, exactly. That was the only reason Han picked it up, protection and safety. Definitely not because he was obsessed with everything connected to you, obviously. Han turned it carefully in his hands while waiting for you to come back.

And honestly?

Your camera felt weirdly personal somehow, like holding a tiny piece of your brain. The strap still smelled faintly like your perfume and cold winter air.

Then unfortunately—

his thumb accidentally brushed the power button.

The screen lit up immediately. Han froze, he should not look. Absolutely not, privacy existed for a reason.

And yet…

Just one picture wouldn’t hurt.

Right?

Five minutes later, Han sat fully invested in your camera roll like a man discovering religion.

Because your photos—

God.

Your photos looked exactly like you. Full of tiny details nobody else would notice.

At first it was mostly Dori, an absurd amount of Dori. Dori sleeping, Dori attacking hoodie strings, Dori standing dramatically in sunlight like he paid rent. Han snorted softly to himself.

“Insane cat mother behavior.”

Then came pictures of random everyday things. Steam rising from ramyeon, bus windows covered in snow, convenience stores at night, Changbin asleep in impossible positions, Felix making dramatic expressions mid-sentence, Hyunjin smoking beneath streetlights.

Normal things.

But somehow through your camera—

they looked beautiful, like you genuinely loved the world despite everything it had done to you.

Han’s chest hurt softly.

Then he kept scrolling.

And suddenly—

he paused.

Oh.

A picture of him, not posed, not intentional. Just Han laughing at something blurry outside the frame while sitting on a bus.

Then another.

Han asleep against the apartment couch with Dori on his chest.

Another.

Han holding instant noodles while arguing dramatically.

Another.

Han standing near the ocean in Incheon, blond hair moving in the wind while he looked toward the water completely unaware you were watching him.

Han blinked slowly, then kept scrolling.

More pictures, way more pictures, an alarming amount of pictures. Some blurry, some beautiful, some clearly taken secretly when he wasn’t paying attention.

And suddenly—

Felix’s words from weeks ago came back:

“There’s like fifty pictures of him.”

Oh my God.

He wasn’t joking. Han stared at the screen helplessly, because this wasn’t accidental anymore.

You saw him constantly, the same way he saw you.

And somehow—

that realization erased every ounce of jealousy immediately.

Because no random guy would ever look at him the way you did through your camera. Han looked at one particular photo for a little too long.

It was simple. Just him sitting on the rooftop near sunset while writing in his notebook.

But the picture felt… intimate somehow.

Soft light catching against his blond hair while his expression looked peaceful in a way he never noticed himself. You made him look beautiful. Han’s chest tightened painfully.

Then suddenly he noticed something else. Most people in your photos looked like subjects.

But his pictures?

They looked cared for.

Like every image quietly said: I love looking at you.

And honestly?

That almost killed him. A soft laugh escaped him before he could stop it.

“Okay,” he muttered quietly to himself.

“Maybe I’m not completely doomed.”

The classroom door suddenly opened.

Han immediately panicked and locked the camera faster than humanly possible before placing it carefully back on your desk exactly where it had been.

Then he sat down casually like nothing happened, absolutely nothing. Seconds later you walked back inside carrying drinks.

“…Oh thank God.”

You immediately grabbed your camera protectively.

“I thought I lost it.”

Han leaned back in his chair trying very hard to act normal.

“You’d survive.”

“No I wouldn’t.”

You checked the camera quickly to make sure it still worked before relaxing slightly. Then finally you looked toward Han and paused.

“…Why are you smiling like that.”

Han blinked.

Oh no.

Apparently he was smiling, like an idiot, probably. He quickly grabbed a drink to hide it.

“I’m not.”

“You literally are.”

Changbin looked between both of you suspiciously. Then toward Ha, then slowly narrowed his eyes.

“…What did you do.”

Han nearly choked.

“Nothing!”

“That sounded guilty.”

You laughed softly while sitting beside him again.

And God—

now that Han knew—

really knew—

he couldn’t stop looking at you differently, because suddenly every tiny thing felt hopeful, the hidden photos, the way you always looked for him first in crowded rooms, the way your eyes softened whenever he smiled.

Maybe he wasn’t imagining this after all.

Maybe—

just maybe—

you loved him too.

taglist:@velvetmoonlght @jiaaabbahng @rrhwang

[skzficdump]

Secondhand XI

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 2.8 k

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

part IV / part V / part VI / part VII /part VIII / part IX / part X / part XI / part XII

New Year’s Eve used to mean luxury, designer dresses, hotels with rooftop parties, champagne your parents let you pretend to sip when you were younger. Cities glowing beneath expensive fireworks while adults talked about business and money and things you never cared about.

Everything polished, perfect and distant.

This year—

you spent New Year’s Eve sitting on the floor of Felix’s apartment eating convenience store snacks while Changbin argued with Hyunjin over which hoodie belonged to who.

And honestly?

You liked this version better.

“WE HAVE TO LEAVE NOW,” Felix announced dramatically.

“It’s literally nine,” Hyunjin muttered.

“Exactly.”

Han looked up from your cat curled in his lap.

“…Why are you yelling.”

“Because if we don’t leave now, we won’t get the good spot.”

Changbin blinked slowly.

“There’s nobody there ever.”

“That’s why it’s OUR spot.”

Felix had insisted all week on spending New Year’s at the abandoned building.

According to him:

the fireworks would look perfect from there

there would be no people

and “the vibes would be emotionally devastating.”

Which honestly sounded exactly like something Felix would say.

So now all five of you climbed the familiar stairs toward the rooftop carrying bags full of snacks, cheap alcohol, blankets, and absolutely no adult supervision.

The cold air hit immediately once you reached the top floor. The city stretched endlessly beneath dark skies while distant lights glittered across Seoul.

And somehow—

it already felt magical.

Felix immediately spread blankets everywhere dramatically.

“This,” he announced proudly, “is culture.”

“This is asbestos,” Han answered.

You laughed softly while setting drinks near the wall.

And for a while—

everything felt perfect. Music played softly from Felix’s speaker. Changbin attempted making instant noodles with questionable success. Hyunjin somehow became emotional over fireworks before midnight even started.

And Han—

Han stayed beside you almost the entire night without either of you really acknowledging it.

At some point while everyone argued over music, you sat beside the broken window taking pictures of the city lights. Your camera clicked softly in the darkness.

Then:

“Lemme see.”

You looked up.

Han had appeared beside you quietly, hands shoved into his hoodie while cold wind moved through his blond hair. Your heartbeat betrayed you instantly.

“You always say that.”

“Because you never let me.”

You held the camera protectively against your chest.

“Privacy.”

“You photograph me constantly.”

“That’s fake news.”

Han snorted softly.

Then before you could react, he leaned slightly closer toward the screen anyway. Your breath caught immediately. Too close, again. Always too close lately.

The picture on the camera showed blurry city lights and Felix in the background accidentally spilling noodles everywhere.

Han laughed softly.

“Art.”

“You don’t understand my vision.”

“No one does.”

The warmth of his shoulder lightly brushed yours while both of you looked through photos together.

And honestly?

Moments like this scared you the most.

Not dramatic moments, not tension. This. The quiet comfort and how natural he felt beside you now. Like somewhere along the way, Han Jisung stopped becoming someone you spent time with and became part of your life instead.

A couple hours later—

everyone got drunk. Not horribly drunk.

Just enough that everything became louder and softer at the same time. Felix started aggressively complimenting everyone emotionally. Changbin attempted dancing and nearly injured himself. Hyunjin became bizarrely extroverted again. At one point he stood dramatically near the broken window holding a cigarette and announced:

“I think humanity fears vulnerability.”

Han stared at him.

“You literally cried because Dori fell asleep on your shoe.”

“He trusted me.”

Meanwhile you sat wrapped in blankets laughing so hard your stomach hurt.

And honestly?

This was the happiest you’d felt in a very long time.

Then suddenly Felix gasped dramatically and pointed toward the city.

“LOOK.”

Fireworks. Tiny at first, then more. Colors exploded across the Seoul skyline while distant cheers echoed faintly through the city below.

The clock on Felix’s phone read 11:58.

Immediately chaos started.

“OH MY GOD.”

“GET THE DRINKS.”

“WHO STOLE MY LIGHTER.”

“FELIX STOP CLIMBING THINGS.”

You laughed helplessly while everyone crowded near the opening overlooking the city. Han ended up beside you naturally, of course he did. Your shoulders pressed together beneath shared blankets while fireworks reflected across the skyline ahead.

The countdown started somewhere far below in the city.

Ten.

Everyone immediately screamed along.

Nine.

Felix grabbed Changbin violently.

Eight.

Hyunjin was already laughing too hard to count properly.

Seven.

You looked sideways briefly.

Han was smiling.

Softly.

Six.

Your chest tightened unexpectedly.

Five.

Changbin suddenly looked between both of you.

Then grinned.

Oh no.

Four.

“KISS!”

You nearly choked immediately.

Three.

Felix screamed instantly.

“KISS KISS KISS.”

“OH MY GOD SHUT UP,” you yelled.

Two.

Han looked equally horrified beside you.

“These people are diseased.”

One.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Fireworks exploded across the sky, everyone screamed. Felix physically tackled Changbin into the blankets.

And somehow in the middle of all the noise and lights and alcohol and warmth—

you looked at Han. At his messy blond hair. His flushed cheeks from cold and drinking. The way he was already looking at you too. And maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the fireworks, maybe the fact that your heart had belonged to him for longer than you wanted to admit.

But before your brain could stop you—

you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Soft, quick, warm. Then immediately pulled back.

“Happy New Year,” you mumbled.

Silence.

Han froze completely.

Actually completely.

Like his entire body physically stopped functioning. His eyes widened slightly while the fireworks exploded endlessly behind both of you.

And for one horrifying second—

you realized what you just did.

Oh my God.

OH MY GOD.

Meanwhile behind you:

Felix screamed louder than the fireworks themselves.

“OH MY GOD.”

Changbin physically collapsed.

“HE’S NOT MOVING.”

Hyunjin looked genuinely delighted.

Han still hadn’t recovered. He stared at you like you personally short-circuited his nervous system.

Which honestly—

you probably had.

Because his cheek still burned where your lips touched it.

And suddenly Han realized something terrifying.

If a kiss on the cheek affected him this badly—

an actual kiss would probably kill him instantly.

One week after New Year’s, you still couldn’t think normally around Han. Which was entirely his fault, obviously. Because ever since you kissed his cheek on the rooftop, something had shifted between you again.

Not enough to change anything officially, but enough to make every interaction feel dangerous. Now every glance lasted too long. Every touch felt intentional.

And worst of all—

Han had started looking at you differently.

Softer, like he was constantly thinking about something he wasn’t saying out loud. It was ruining your emotional stability.

Unfortunately, winter break ended anyway, which meant Monday morning arrived like a personal attack. You stared blankly at yourself in the mirror while trying to mentally prepare for school again.

Uniforms.

Homework.

People.

Tragic.

Dori meowed dramatically from your bed like he agreed.

“I know,” you sighed.

Your mother laughed softly from the kitchen.

“You’ve complained for thirty minutes already.”

“Because suffering deserves acknowledgment.”

“You sound like Han.”

Your stomach flipped instantly at hearing his name.

The walk to school felt colder than usual. Snow covered the sidewalks lightly while students flooded the streets complaining dramatically about classes returning.

And unfortunately—

the second you spotted Han near the school gate, your heartbeat betrayed you immediately. He stood with Felix and Changbin, blond hair messy beneath a beanie while his hands stayed shoved into his hoodie pockets against the cold.

Then he looked up, saw you, and immediately smiled slightly. There it was again. That soft look, like he forgot other people existed for half a second whenever he noticed you.

Your stomach became unsafe instantly. Felix noticed first. Of course he did.

“Oh my God,” he whispered dramatically to Changbin.

“They’re doing the thing again.”

“The staring thing?”

“The yearning thing.”

Meanwhile Han walked toward you casuall, too casually. Like he wasn’t internally reliving the feeling of your lips against his cheek every single day since New Year’s.

“Morning,” he said softly.

You nodded quickly.

“…Morning.”

Silence, too much silence. Because now both of you were thinking about it, the kiss, obviously.

Han rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“…So.”

Your heartbeat sped up.

“So?”

“…Dori scratched me.”

You blinked.

“What.”

Han pulled up his sleeve dramatically.

“He attacked me emotionally.”

A tiny red scratch crossed his wrist. You stared for half a second, then burst into laughter immediately. Han looked deeply offended.

“You think violence is funny?”

“You probably deserved it.”

“That cat hates men.”

“That cat literally loves you.”

“Exactly.”

The tension eased slightly after that, thank God. Because for a second there it felt like both of you might spontaneously combust from awkwardness.

Then suddenly Felix appeared between you both dramatically.

“Good morning future lovers.”

You physically recoiled.

“Oh my God.”

Han looked murderous immediately.

“I’m gonna push you into traffic.”

Felix looked delighted instead.

“You can’t silence the truth.”

Changbin joined instantly.

“Did you guys kiss after midnight?”

“No,” both of you answered immediately.

Too fast, way too fast. Hyunjin finally appeared beside everyone carrying coffee.

Then calmly:

“That sounded suspicious.”

You covered your face aggressively with your scarf.

“I hate this friend group.”

“No you don’t,” Han said automatically.

The answer came too naturally, too softly. And suddenly the air shifted again. Your eyes met briefly, then both of you looked away immediately.

The day itself passed painfully slowly afterward, mostly because Han wouldn’t stop accidentally touching you. Not intentionally, probably.

But suddenly:

his knee brushed yours beneath desks

his hand touched your back guiding you through crowded hallways

he leaned too close looking at your notes

your shoulders kept bumping

And every single time—

both of you reacted internally like disasters.

At lunch things somehow became worse, because Felix forced everyone onto the rooftop despite freezing temperatures “for atmosphere.”

You sat beside Han beneath shared blankets again because apparently personal boundaries no longer existed in this friend group. Changbin talked loudly about failing math. Hyunjin sketched silently. Felix kept trying to feed everyone fries dramatically.

And meanwhile—

you became painfully aware of Han beside you, too aware. His shoulder pressed lightly against yours, the warmth of him beneath the blanket, the faint smell of smoke and laundry detergent clinging to his hoodie. You hated your life. Then suddenly Han leaned slightly closer.

“…You’re cold.”

Your breath caught immediately.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re literally shaking.”

Before you could argue further, Han reached over and tugged your scarf higher around your face carefully. Your entire body froze, because his fingers brushed your jaw lightly. Completely casual, and somehow that made it worse.

The world around you blurred slightly. Han seemed to realize what he’d done a second too late. His hand paused, your eyes met, too close, again. Always too close. Neither of you moved for one dangerous second.

Then:

“OH MY GOD,” Felix whispered loudly.

Both of you jumped apart instantly. Changbin stared dramatically.

“You guys are insane.”

“We literally did nothing,” Han argued immediately.

“You looked at each other like divorced lovers reconnecting in the rain.”

“That sentence means NOTHING.”

Hyunjin sipped his coffee calmly.

“The sexual tension is becoming hostile.”

You nearly choked on air. Meanwhile Han looked ready to throw himself off the roof.

And honestly?

You understood completely, because the worst part wasn’t your friends noticing. The worst part was realizing they weren’t wrong anymore.

At some point, your apartment became the default hangout spot. Nobody officially decided it. It just… happened.

After school, the five of you naturally ended up there almost every day now. Maybe because your mom worked late, maybe because the apartment was warm, maybe because Dori screamed dramatically whenever someone visited and Felix treated him like a celebrity.

Or maybe—

because Han loved being there more than he admitted. Honestly, he probably spent more time at your apartment than his own lately, not that anyone missed how suspicious that was.

Wednesday afternoon found all of you sprawled across the living room floor surrounded by snacks, homework nobody planned on finishing, and Dori causing emotional destruction.

The kitten had grown slightly over the past weeks, still tiny, still dramatic.

And unfortunately—

completely obsessed with Han. Which was becoming a problem.

“Traitor,” you muttered while watching Dori ignore you completely to climb directly into Han’s lap.

Han looked smug immediately.

“He recognizes greatness.”

“He recognizes manipulation.”

Dori purred loudly against Han’s hoodie while Han scratched behind his ears absentmindedly without even looking away from the game Changbin forced him into.

And honestly?

The sight did something weird to your chest. Again. Because Han looked… domestic, like he belonged there.

Felix noticed your staring immediately, of course he did.

“Oh my God.”

You snapped out of it instantly.

“What.”

Felix slowly pointed toward Han and Dori.

“…That is literally his son.”

Silence.

Han blinked once.

“What.”

Changbin immediately sat up straighter.

“WAIT.”

“No,” Han said immediately.

“Yes,” Felix continued aggressively. “Dori likes him more than anyone.”

“That’s because Han smells like alleyways,” Hyunjin muttered.

“Rude.”

Felix ignored everyone completely. Then dramatically pointed at you.

“And Soojin is obviously the mom.”

Your entire body froze instantly.

Absolutely not.

Absolutely NOT.

Han nearly choked beside you.

“What kind of logic is that?!”

“It’s family vibes,” Felix answered confidently.

Changbin gasped dramatically.

“Oh my God.”

“No,” you said immediately.

“Yes,” Changbin continued. “This apartment literally feels like visiting weird young parents.”

“I’m going home,” Han muttered.

But unfortunately—

his ears had already turned pink, which only made everything worse. Hyunjin looked up from his sketchbook calmly.

“To be fair, Han basically lives here.”

Han looked personally attacked.

“I do NOT.”

Felix stared at him flatly.

“You have a toothbrush here.”

Silence.

Your head snapped toward Han instantly.

“…You WHAT?”

Han looked horrified.

“Oh my God wait—”

Changbin physically collapsed laughing.

“YOU HAVE A TOOTHBRUSH HERE?”

“It’s practical!”

Felix looked emotional.

“That’s marriage.”

“THAT IS NOT MARRIAGE.”

Meanwhile you sat completely frozen on the floor trying very hard not to think about the fact that Han apparently kept things at your apartment now.

Your apartment, like it was normal, like he expected to stay. Your heart felt dangerously soft suddenly.

Han pointed aggressively at Felix.

“This is your fault.”

“How.”

“You keep emotionally exaggerating everything.”

“You bought cat food here yesterday.”

You blinked immediately.

“…You did?”

Han looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“He was hungry!”

“He has food already,” you said weakly.

“He looked emotionally starving.”

“That cat manipulates you,” Hyunjin muttered.

Dori chose that exact moment to climb higher into Han’s hoodie and fall asleep directly against his chest.

The room exploded.

“OH MY GOD.”

“He chose his father.”

“Stop saying that!”

Changbin wiped fake tears dramatically.

“He loves his family.”

Han looked seconds away from death.

And honestly?

You weren’t doing much better, because the teasing should’ve felt ridiculous.

Instead—

it felt a little too natural. A little too easy to imagine, which was horrifying. Felix suddenly narrowed his eyes suspiciously at both of you.

“…Wait.”

“No,” you and Han answered instantly.

“You guys always answer too fast.”

Han groaned loudly and dropped backward against the couch dramatically while Dori stayed asleep on his chest completely unbothered.

“This friend group is ruining my life.”

Changbin grinned.

“Says the man currently holding his son.”

Han threw a pillow directly at his face. You laughed helplessly beside them, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest while watching Han carefully protect the sleeping kitten from the chaos around him.

And maybe that was the real problem lately, not the teasing, not the tension, not even the almost-confessions hiding inside every conversation.

It was this. How easy it felt to picture Han here, in your apartment, with your cat, with you. Like he’d slowly become part of your everyday life without either of you noticing when it happened.

At some point later, Felix and Changbin started fighting over instant noodles in the kitchen while Hyunjin disappeared onto your balcony to smoke.

Leaving you alone on the floor beside Han. Dori still asleep between both of you. The apartment suddenly felt quieter. You glanced sideways slightly, Han looked tired today, comfortable too.

His blond hair messy, sleeves pushed up while one hand absentmindedly scratched beneath Dori’s chin.

Then suddenly he looked at you too and there it was again. That pause. That dangerous softness in his eyes now whenever he looked at you too long, your heartbeat stumbled slightly.

Then quietly—

“…You really like being here, huh?”

The question slipped out before you could stop it. Han blinked once, then looked around your apartment slowly.

At the blankets everywhere, the tiny kitchen, Dori asleep between both of you. And finally back at you.

“…Yeah.”

Soft answer, honest answer. Your chest tightened immediately. Han looked away first this time.

Then quieter—

“It feels nice here.”

The simplicity of it nearly destroyed you.

Because somehow—

without realizing it—

both of you had accidentally started building a home inside each other’s lives.

taglist:@velvetmoonlght @jiaaabbahng @rrhwang

[skzficdump]

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[skzficdump]

Secondhand X

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 1.4 k

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

part II / part III / part IV / part V / part VI / part VII /part VIII / part IX / part X / part XI

By the time Christmas Eve arrived, Han still wasn’t entirely sure this was a good idea.

But every time he imagined leaving that kitten behind in the cold—

he couldn’t do it.

So now he stood outside your apartment building holding a tiny box while snow fell softly around him, he was very nervous, which was ridiculous. It was just a kitten, not a confession. Still, his heartbeat wouldn’t calm down.

A few minutes later, the apartment door opened and you stepped outside bundled in one of your oversized coats and a scarf almost covering half your face.

The second you saw him, you smiled slightly.

And immediately Han remembered: oh right. You’re pretty. That’s another problem.

“You’ve been standing out here?” you asked softly.

“You take forever.”

“I was literally upstairs.”

“Exactly.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately before noticing the box in his hands.

Your eyebrows lifted slightly.

“…What’s that.”

Han suddenly forgot how language worked.

“A thing.”

“That explained nothing.”

He stared at the box, then at you. Then awkwardly shoved it toward you before he could overthink himself to death.

“Merry Christmas.”

You blinked in confusion before carefully taking it.

“…Han.”

“Just open it.”

Your fingers slowly lifted the lid.

Then instantly—

your entire expression changed.

Inside the box sat the tiny gray kitten curled up inside a blanket, blinking sleepily up at you.

For a second you just stared. Completely frozen.

Then softly:

“Oh my God.”

Han watched your face nervously.

“You said once you always wanted a cat,” he mumbled awkwardly. “And I found him outside and he looked kinda miserable and— yeah.”

You looked back down at the kitten with wide eyes. He immediately stumbled clumsily toward your hand and pressed his tiny face against your fingers, and something inside your chest melted instantly.

“He’s so small,” you whispered.

Han relaxed slightly at the sound of your voice, because there it was. That softness again. That warmth.

You carefully lifted the kitten against your chest while he immediately curled into your coat for warmth.

Your eyes watered slightly. Not sad tears this time, something gentler.

“You really got me a cat.”

Han shrugged quickly.

“I mean technically he was free.”

You laughed softly through your tears.

And God—

Han almost collapsed from relief hearing that sound again, a real laugh. You looked down at the kitten again.

Then quietly:

“…You saved him.”

Han’s expression softened slightly.

“Guess so.”

But honestly?

That wasn’t what he had been trying to do.

Because standing there watching you hold that tiny kitten carefully against your chest while smiling for real again—

Han realized the truth.

He hadn’t brought the kitten home to save it.

He brought it home because he was desperately trying to save you from hurting alone.

You couldn’t stop staring at the kitten, even after five full minutes.

He stayed curled against your chest inside your coat, tiny paws pressing softly into the fabric while he blinked up at you sleepily like he had already decided you belonged to him now.

“He’s so cute,” you whispered.

Han smiled slightly despite himself.

“Yeah. He screamed at me for twenty minutes on the bus.”

You laughed softly again.

God.

That sound alone made the entire freezing walk and emotional panic worth it. Snow drifted quietly around both of you outside your apartment building while the kitten purred faintly against your chest.

Then before you could overthink it—

“…Do you wanna come inside?”

Han blinked.

“…Right now?”

“Mhm.”

He hesitated for maybe half a second.

Then immediately:

“Okay.”

And somehow that caught you off guard.

You stared at him.

“…That was fast.”

Han shrugged casually, but his ears turned slightly pink from the cold.

“I’m freezing.”

Which was probably true, but still. The second you both entered the apartment building, reality suddenly hit you.

Oh no.

It was Christmas Eve, meaning Han probably had family waiting for him. Meanwhile you had just impulsively invited him upstairs because your brain stopped functioning the second you saw a kitten.

You looked at him nervously while unlocking the apartment door.

“…Wait.”

Han looked up.

“What.”

“…Shouldn’t you be with your family?”

Something flickered briefly across his face, gone too quickly to fully understand. Then he shrugged.

“They’ll survive.”

Before you could ask further, the apartment door opened.

Warmth hit immediately, along with the smell of soup and your mother’s voice from the kitchen.

“Soojin?”

“We’re home,” you called softly.

Then your mother appeared in the hallway—

and immediately froze.

Because:

you were smiling.

there was a blond boy in her hallway.

you were holding a tiny kitten like it was a newborn child.

For one second she just stared.

Then slowly:

“…Is that a cat?”

Your face lit up instantly.

“Han found him outside.”

Your mother’s entire expression softened immediately.

“Oh sweetheart…”

She walked closer carefully while the kitten blinked up at her sleepily.

And for the first time in months—

you saw your mother genuinely smile without sadness hiding underneath it. Han noticed too, which made his chest feel strangely warm.

“This is Han,” you said softly.

Your mother looked up quickly.

“Oh— right.” She immediately bowed slightly. “Thank you for bringing her home safely all the time.”

Han looked caught off guard instantly.

“…Ah. It’s nothing.”

“It isn’t nothing.”

You noticed the way Han suddenly became awkward under your mother’s kindness, like he wasn’t used to being looked at like he mattered by adults.

Then your mother looked at him more carefully.

“…Wait. Aren’t you supposed to be with your family tonight?”

There it was again, that flicker across Han’s face, quick again almost invisible.

Then casually:

“They’re probably eating already.”

Probably.

Something about the wording made your chest tighten slightly.

Your mother seemed to notice too, because after a second she smiled softly.

“Well. You should stay for dinner.”

Han blinked immediately.

“Oh no, it’s okay—”

“We have enough food.”

“No really, I don’t wanna intrude.”

“You aren’t.”

Han opened his mouth again. Then paused, because honestly? The apartment smelled warm and comfortable. And the thought of leaving suddenly felt strangely disappointing.

Still, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“…You sure?”

Your mother nodded immediately.

“Of course.”

And just like that—

Han stayed.

The dinner itself was simple, nothing luxurious, just soup, kimchi, rice, side dishes, and instant ramyeon because apparently your household now survived emotionally through noodles.

But somehow—

it became one of the nicest Christmas Eves of your life.

The kitten curled asleep in your lap halfway through dinner while your mother quietly laughed watching Felix’s ridiculous messages flood your phone.

Han helped wash dishes despite your mother insisting he didn’t have to.

You caught him smiling softly when she started arguing with him over whether he was too skinny.

And for a second—

the apartment felt full again. Warm again.

At one point during dinner, your mother looked between both of you quietly. Then smiled slightly into her tea, you immediately got nervous, because mothers always noticed things.

Dangerous things.

Thankfully, she only asked:

“What are you naming him?”

You looked down at the tiny kitten asleep against your sweater.

Then at Han.

“…You should pick.”

Han looked genuinely alarmed.

“What? No.”

“You found him.”

“Yeah but you’re keeping him.”

You smiled softly.

“Still.”

Han stared at the kitten for a second.

Then quietly:

“…Dori.”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly.

“Dori?”

Han shrugged.

“He looks like he’d forget his own thoughts.”

You burst into laughter immediately.

And somehow—

that became his name.

Hours later, when Han finally stood near the apartment door getting ready to leave, snow had already started falling heavily outside again.

Your mother handed him leftover food despite his protests.

“You’re too thin.”

“I ate like three bowls.”

“Exactly.”

You tried not to laugh while Han accepted defeat immediately.

Then finally he looked at you, at the kitten asleep in your arms. At the apartment that somehow no longer felt cold and broken tonight.

And softly—

“Merry Christmas, Soojin.”

Your chest tightened painfully.

“Merry Christmas, Han.”

For one dangerous second, neither of you moved. The air felt warm despite winter pressing against the windows, then Han left before his feelings got worse.

The second he stepped into his own apartment an hour later, his mother appeared immediately.

“Where were you?!”

Han blinked.

“…Outside?”

“We waited for you.”

Right.

Dinner.

His family.

Guilt immediately twisted in his stomach.

“Oh. Felix had an emergency.”

His mother narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“What emergency.”

Han hesitated briefly.

Then lied terribly:

“…Emotional.”

“That’s not an emergency.”

“It was for him.”

She sighed dramatically and smacked his arm lightly before disappearing back toward the kitchen muttering about irresponsible teenagers.

Han stood there quietly afterward, still cold from outside. Still smelling faintly like your apartment.

And despite the guilt—

despite technically ditching Christmas dinner—

he couldn’t stop smiling slightly to himself.

Because tonight, for the first time in weeks—

he saw you truly happy again.

And honestly?

That felt a little like Christmas too.

taglist:@velvetmoonlght @jiaaabbahng @rrhwang

[skzficdump]

Secondhand IX

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 1.8 k

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

part I / part II / part III / part IV / part V / part VI / part VII /part VIII / part IX / part X

The idea stayed in your head for three days before you finally said it out loud. Not because you didn’t want to go, because you were terrified to. Visiting your father made everything real in a way you still weren’t prepared for.

As long as you didn’t see him there— behind bars, inside prison walls, wearing prison clothes—

some irrational part of you could still pretend this was temporary.That eventually your old life would somehow return, but deep down, you already knew it wouldn’t.

Which was exactly why your hands shook slightly while walking beside Han at the park. The winter air bit at your cheeks while buses passed noisily beside the sidewalk. Han was talking about something dramatic Felix did earlier when you interrupted quietly:

“…Do you know how to get to the prison?”

Han blinked.

Then completely serious:

“Probably by committing a crime.”

You stared at him flatly.

“…Han.”

“What?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You stopped walking and looked at him properly.

“I mean to visit someone.”

The joke disappeared from his face immediately.

Oh.

Han’s expression softened slightly as realization settled in.

“…Your dad?”

You hated how quickly your eyes dropped toward the ground after that.

“…Yeah.”

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Then Han shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets and nodded once.

“I’ll take you.”

You looked up immediately.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

The simplicity of the answer hurt a little, because lately Han kept doing that. Showing up for you like it was obvious, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

The prison sat on the outskirts of the city. Gray and cold. Intimidating in a way that made your stomach twist harder the closer you got.

The entire bus ride there felt surreal, you barely spoke. Mostly because you felt like if you opened your mouth, you might start crying before even arriving.

Han noticed.

Of course he did.

But for once—

he didn’t try making jokes. Didn’t tease you.

He just sat beside you quietly while your knee bounced nervously the entire ride. At one point, without saying anything, Han gently pushed your shaking hand down with his own, not dramatic, not even really holding it. Just grounding you. Your breathing steadied slightly afterward.

When you finally reached the prison, your chest felt unbearably tight. The building looked exactly how prisons looked in movies. Tall fences, gray walls, cold fluorescent lights.

Han glanced at you carefully.

“You okay?”

No. Not even a little, but you nodded anyway.

“…Mhm.”

He clearly didn’t believe you.

Still, he didn’t push.

You turned toward him awkwardly near the entrance.

“You don’t have to wait.”

Han looked genuinely confused.

“…Where else would I go?”

Your chest hurt again.

God.

You hated how much that affected you now.

So instead of answering, you just nodded quickly and walked inside before you embarrassed yourself emotionally.

The visit destroyed you immediately.

The second you saw your father—

actually saw him—

something inside you cracked apart.

He looked older, not physically old exactly. Just… tired. Smaller somehow. Like prison had already started hollowing pieces out of him.

And the worst part?

The second he saw you, he smiled. Like he was relieved. Like seeing you was the best thing that happened to him all week. That almost hurt more than anything else.

“Soojin-ah.”

Your throat closed instantly.

You sat down across from him slowly, hands trembling so badly you had to hide them beneath the table.

For a second neither of you spoke. Then suddenly your father’s face crumpled slightly.

“…You’ve lost weight.”

And that did it, the tears came instantly, violently. You covered your face immediately while sobs escaped your chest before you could stop them. Your father looked devastated immediately.

“Oh sweetheart—”

“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

The words barely made sense through your crying.

You missed him. God, you missed him, not the rich life, not the money. Him.

Your father had always been your favorite person growing up. The one who brought you tiny souvenirs from work trips, who taught you how to drive, who carried you asleep to bed after parties when you were little, and now he sat across from you wearing prison clothes.

Your father’s eyes watered too.

“Soojin, none of this is your fault.”

“But I should’ve known something was wrong.”

“You were a child.”

“I’m eighteen.”

“You’re still my child.”

That sentence shattered you completely.

You cried so hard your chest physically hurt while your father tried comforting you from across a prison table he couldn’t even cross to hug you properly.

And somehow—

that was the cruelest part.

You couldn’t even hug him goodbye when visiting hours ended.

The entire walk back outside felt numb. Cold air hit your face immediately the second the prison doors closed behind you.

And there—

exactly where he said he’d be—

stood Han.

Waiting. The second he saw your face, his entire expression changed, concern instantly.

You tried speaking. but failed immediately. Then suddenly you were crying again. Han crossed the distance between you in seconds.

“Hey,” he said softly, panicked now. “Hey, hey—”

You covered your face again, shoulders shaking violently.

And honestly?

Han had never hated anything more than seeing you cry like this. Not because it was ugly, because it wasn’t. It was heartbreaking, the kind of crying that came from somewhere deep, somewhere helpless. Without even thinking, Han pulled you against him immediately. One arm around your shoulders while you cried into his hoodie outside a prison building beneath gray winter skies.

And for once—

he had no joke. No teasing. Nothing clever to say.

Just: “I know.” “It’s okay.” “I’ve got you.”

Over and over again.

Eventually, once your breathing steadied slightly, Han quietly looked down at you.

“…Come on.”

You wiped your face weakly.

“Where.”

“You need food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Too bad.”

Normally you would’ve argued, today you didn’t have energy.

So you let Han lead you onto a bus and eventually into a tiny restaurant near the station, the smell of noodles and broth filling the air.

You sat across from him silently while your tea cooled untouched beside your hands. Han watched you carefully the entire time, like he was scared if he looked away for too long, you’d disappear.

Eventually he spoke softly.

“…You wanna talk about it?”

At first, you shook your head automatically.

Then suddenly—

the words started spilling out anyway.

“He used to take me everywhere with him.”

Han stayed quiet, listening, not interrupting.

“When I was little, my mom always got mad because he spoiled me too much.” You laughed weakly through tears. “He bought me my first camera.”

Han’s chest tightened slightly at that.

You stared down at your hands.

“He never missed anything. Dance recitals, school events… even stupid things.” Your voice cracked. “And now he’s in prison.”

The last word broke apart in your mouth.

You covered your face again immediately.

“I hate this,” you whispered. “I hate that I can’t fix it.”

Han moved before thinking. One second he sat across from you, yhe next he was beside you instead.

And then suddenly—

his arms wrapped around you again, warm and secure.

You broke instantly. Your hands grabbed the back of his hoodie while sobs shook through your chest again, and Han just held you tighter.

One hand gently pressed against the back of your head while he rested his cheek lightly against your hair.

“It’s okay,” he whispered softly.

You shook your head against him immediately.

“No it’s not.”

Han’s chest hurt hearing how broken your voice sounded, so he held you closer and stayed.

Even after your crying quieted, even after the food got cold, even after the restaurant owner stopped pretending not to watch. Because right now, the only thing Han cared about was making sure you didn’t feel alone in this.

And somewhere between your tears and his arms around you—

you realized something terrifying.

When your world hurt the most, the person you wanted beside you was always Han Jisung.

A week passed after the prison visit. Then another.

And technically—

you were better now. At least on the outside, you laughed again, went back to the park to hang out, took pictures of random things around the city, argued with Changbin over snacks and bullied Felix for his music taste and rolled your eyes every time Han said something stupid.

Everything looked normal again, but Han still couldn’t get that image out of his head.

You crying outside the prison.

The sound of your voice when you said: “I hate that I can’t fix it.”

It haunted him in quiet moments.

On buses.

Lying awake at night.

Writing in his notebook.

Because Han had seen you sad before.

He’d seen you exhausted, overwhelmed, lonely.

But that day?

That was different, that was grief. Raw and ugly and helpless. And somehow it made Han feel helpless too. Which he hated.

Because more than anything lately—

Han just wanted to make you smile again. Not polite smiles, not the small tired ones you used when people worried too much. Real ones. The kind that reached your eyes and made you laugh loudly enough to embarrass yourself. The kind you used to have before everything went wrong.

Unfortunately, Han had no idea how to fix sadness that deep.

Still—

he tried anyway.

Which was exactly why he was currently walking home in freezing weather carrying convenience store ramen and emotionally overthinking your existence.

Again.

Snow covered the sidewalks lightly beneath yellow streetlights while music played quietly through one of his earbuds.

Han kicked absentmindedly at a pile of snow near the curb.

Then paused.

A sound.

Faint.

Tiny.

He frowned slightly.

“…Huh?”

There it was again. A soft pathetic little meow.

Han looked around slowly before spotting a cardboard box tucked near an alley wall.

And immediately—

his stomach dropped.

Inside sat the tiniest kitten he’d ever seen. Small gray fur puffed up against the cold, huge frightened eyes staring up at him while it cried weakly again. Way too small to be alone. Han crouched immediately.

“Oh no.”

The kitten tried moving closer instantly, tiny paws stumbling awkwardly against the bottom of the box. Han’s chest physically hurt.

Because suddenly all he could think about was you; the way you curled into yourself when sad, the loneliness in your voice after visiting your father.

And then—

another memory.

Weeks ago near the river, when Felix pointed at a stray cat and you smiled softly.

“I always wanted one.”

Han stared down at the kitten again. It looked fragile and very cold. Like it needed somebody.

Immediately his brain screamed: absolutely not.

Kittens cost money.

Food. Vet visits. Litter.

And honestly?

You were barely adjusting to your own life right now.

Would taking care of something else become overwhelming?

Han hesitated.

Then the kitten meowed again.

Tiny.

Lonely.

And that was it.

“…Damn it.”

Twenty minutes later, Han sat on a bus with the kitten hidden inside his hoodie while internally panicking.

“This is insane,” he whispered to himself.

The kitten meowed angrily.

“I know.”

taglist:@velvetmoonlght @jiaaabbahng @rrhwang

[skzficdump]

Secondhand VIII

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 3.6 k

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

part I / part II / part III / part IV / part V / part VI / part VII /part VIII / part IX

By the time the sun disappeared completely, the beach had become theirs again, empty and quiet. Private in the way only winter beaches could be.

The ocean stretched endlessly beneath the dark sky while freezing wind carried the smell of salt through the air. Far away, city lights flickered faintly across the coast, but out here it felt like the rest of the world barely existed.

And somehow—

that made everything feel softer.

“Okay,” Changbin announced dramatically while rubbing his hands together. “We need fire before I die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Hyunjin muttered.

“You don’t know my body.”

Felix pointed toward the tents.

“We have blankets.”

“Blankets don’t create atmosphere.”

“That sentence sounded weirdly philosophical.”

Meanwhile, Han had already started walking backward toward the rocky area near the beach.

“Come on,” he called toward Hyunjin. “Help me find wood.”

Hyunjin looked deeply offended immediately.

“Why me.”

“Because Felix would somehow set himself on fire.”

“That’s fair.”

Felix gasped dramatically.

“I contribute emotionally.”

“You contribute noise,” Han answered.

You laughed softly while watching them disappear farther down the beach. And honestly?

Something about this whole trip still felt surreal to you.

A month ago, your life had been school, grief, tiny apartments, and pretending not to fall apart. Now you sat on a winter beach with four idiots arguing over firewood.

And somehow—

you felt happ, like really happy. Felix dropped dramatically beside you in the sand.

“Soojin.”

“Hm?”

“Do rich people not camp?”

You blinked.

“…Not usually.”

Changbin looked horrified.

“So what did you do on vacations.”

You thought for a second.

“Well… hotels mostly.”

“How expensive.”

“…Depends.”

“Soojin.”

You hesitated slightly.

Then quietly:

“One time in Italy my parents rented an entire villa.”

Silence.

Felix stared blankly.

“…Entire.”

“Mhm.”

Changbin looked emotionally wounded.

“My family once shared one hotel room with six people.”

You burst into laughter.

“What?”

“I’m serious!”

Meanwhile Felix looked genuinely fascinated.

“Did you have servants.”

You immediately looked offended.

“That sounds evil.”

“So yes?”

“…Technically.”

Changbin physically grabbed his chest.

“She lived like royalty.”

You smiled awkwardly while pulling your coat tighter around yourself.

The weird thing was—

talking about your old life didn’t hurt the same anymore. Not around them, because they never looked at you with envy exactly. Mostly confusion, and occasionally horror.

But never judgment.

A little while later, Han and Hyunjin finally returned carrying uneven piles of wood.

Well.

Han carried wood, Hyunjin carried one branch and emotional complaints.

“I suffered,” Hyunjin announced immediately.

“You picked up three sticks,” Han answered.

“It was spiritually exhausting.”

Han dropped the wood beside the growing firepit while Felix immediately started helping excitedly.

And for a second—

you just watched them.

Changbin loudly trying to light the fire wrong. Felix aggressively coaching him despite knowing nothing. Hyunjin laughing quietly into his scarf. Han shoving everyone away dramatically because apparently he was the only competent person there.

It felt warm, not physically. Emotionally. Like somehow you had accidentally stumbled into a family.

Eventually, after several failed attempts and one near-disaster involving lighter fluid, the fire finally sparked alive.

Felix screamed like they had invented civilization.

“WE HAVE FIRE.”

“We are literally cavemen,” Han muttered.

The five of you settled around the fire afterward beneath blankets and hoodies while waves crashed softly nearby.

Snacks covered the sand between everyone.

Chips.

Instant noodles.

Convenience store candy.

And unfortunately—

alcohol.

Changbin held up a bottle proudly.

“Tonight,” he announced dramatically, “we experience character development.”

Han narrowed his eyes immediately.

“That sentence never ends well.”

It did not end well.

At first, everything stayed relatively calm. Music played softly from Felix’s speaker, the fire crackled warmly. Conversations drifted lazily between everyone while cold wind whipped through the beach.

You sat beside Han beneath one shared blanket because apparently your group had no concept of personal space anymore.

Not that you minded, which was the problem.

Felix took the first shot and immediately gagged violently.

“That tastes like betrayal.”

“That’s because it’s cheap,” Hyunjin answered calmly.

Ten minutes later—

everyone became significantly louder.

Especially Hyunjin, which honestly shocked you the most.

Because sober Hyunjin was quiet. Elegant almost. The kind of person who looked emotionally above chaos.

Drunk Hyunjin?

Entirely different human being. At one point he stood up dramatically beside the fire and pointed at the ocean.

“Nobody understands me artistically.”

Han looked up slowly.

“You drew pigeons for three hours yesterday.”

“They represented society.”

“That sentence means nothing.”

Felix nearly fell sideways laughing.

Meanwhile Changbin had somehow started aggressively explaining conspiracy theories involving convenience store sandwiches.

And somehow—

even Han got drunk.

Not messy drunk, just softer. Looser around the edges. His laughter came easier now. His smiles lasted longer.

And unfortunately—

he kept looking at you, like constantly. You noticed every single time.

At one point Felix suddenly leaned across the fire dramatically.

“Okay.”

Everyone looked at him cautiously.

“We need truth or dare.”

Han groaned immediately.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“SCARED?”

Han immediately sat up straighter.

“Never.”

“That sounded very scared,” you said softly.

Han pointed at you.

“Traitor.”

Ten minutes later, the game became a disaster.

Changbin refused every dare unless it involved violence. Felix kept lying during truths. Hyunjin dramatically overshared about his middle school heartbreak.

And Han—

Han kept choosing truth suspiciously often.

Which everyone noticed immediately.

Felix narrowed his eyes.

“…Interesting.”

“What.”

“You usually pick dare.”

Han shrugged casually.

“Growth.”

“That’s not growth. That’s fear.”

Han looked offended.

“Fear of what.”

Felix grinned slowly.

“Oh, you know.”

Han immediately knew, and immediately panicked.

“Absolutely not.”

You looked between them in confusion.

“…What’s happening.”

“Nothing,” Han answered way too fast.

Changbin looked delighted suddenly.

“Oh my God wait.”

“No,” Han warned immediately.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Felix pointed dramatically across the fire.

“Han.”

Han already looked spiritually exhausted.

“What.”

“…Who was your last serious crush?”

Silence.

Your heartbeat immediately betrayed you, not visibly. Hopefully.

Han leaned back against the log behind him slowly.

“You people are evil.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Hyunjin smirked slightly into his drink. Han looked toward the fire for a second.

Then shrugged.

“…Nobody recently.”

You hated the weird disappointment that immediately bloomed inside your chest. Which was ridiculous, obviously ridiculous. Because why should that matter?

Then Han glanced sideways toward you briefly, very briefly. But everyone noticed.

Felix physically stopped drinking. Changbin’s eyes widened slowly. Hyunjin looked seconds away from laughing himself unconscious.

And suddenly you realized—

oh my God.

They know.

Or at least they suspect something.

Your face warmed immediately. Han looked equally horrified because apparently he realized the exact same thing.

So naturally—

Changbin made it worse.

“Oh my GOD.”

“SHUT UP,” Han yelled instantly.

Felix screamed laughing.

“You looked RIGHT at her.”

“I literally didn’t!”

“You absolutely did.”

Hyunjin buried his face into his scarf because he was laughing too hard now. Meanwhile your entire body felt hot despite the freezing weather.

Han looked at you desperately.

“I wasn’t—”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted way too quickly.

“That sounded emotionally devastating,” Felix whispered dramatically.

You threw a chip at him immediately.

Eventually the conversation moved on somehow. Mostly because Han threatened violence repeatedly. But the atmosphere changed slightly afterward.

Softer.

More aware.

At some point later into the night, Changbin and Felix started drunkenly singing terribly near the fire while Hyunjin attempted harmonies that somehow made it worse.

And for a while—

you just sat there quietly beside Han watching them. Your shoulder pressed lightly against his beneath the blanket. The fire reflected softly in his blond hair, and somehow the moment felt painfully beautiful.

Han glanced at you suddenly.

“What.”

You blinked.

“…Nothing.”

“You’re doing the weird staring thing again.”

You smiled slightly.

“Maybe you’re just interesting.”

Han looked at you for a second too long.

Then quietly—

“You look happier.”

The words caught you off guard. You stared toward the ocean for a moment. At the waves. The fire. Your friends screaming lyrics horribly nearby.

And honestly?

He was right.

So much had gone wrong in your life.

You lost your home.

Your future.

Your father.

Everything familiar.

But somehow—

sitting here freezing on a winter beach with people who cared about you felt more real than any luxury vacation ever had.

You looked back at Han softly.

“…I think I forgot life could feel like this.”

His expression changed slightly at that, gentler now. Like the words affected him more than they should have.

Then softly:

“I’m glad you stayed.”

Your breath caught slightly.

The fire crackled quietly between everyone while the ocean roared softly nearby. And suddenly the space between you and Han felt dangerously small again.

Not friendship-small.

Something else.

Something warmer.

More fragile.

Before either of you could say anything else, Felix suddenly collapsed directly onto both of you dramatically.

“I LOVE YOU GUYS.”

The moment shattered instantly.

Han groaned loudly.

“You’re actually the worst.”

Felix looked emotional.

“No but seriously.”

His voice softened slightly.

“I’m really happy lately.”

The honesty surprised everyone quiet for a second.

Changbin smiled faintly into the fire.

“…Yeah.”

Even Hyunjin nodded softly.

And suddenly you realized something important. These boys loved each other deeply.

Not in dramatic ways.

Not perfectly.

But genuinely.

In shared food.

In insults that meant affection.

In waiting for each other after school.

In blankets and bus rides and making room for one more person without hesitation.

And somehow—

they had made room for you too. Not because you were rich once. Not because they pitied you.

Just because they wanted you there. Your chest tightened painfully at the realization. Then Han nudged your shoulder lightly beside you.

“You thinking too hard again?”

You looked at him.

At his soft drunken smile and messy blond hair and warm eyes reflecting firelight.

And quietly—

without thinking—

you leaned your head against his shoulder. Han froze immediately, just slightly. Then slowly relaxed beside you. Neither of you said anything.

But across the fire—

Felix silently looked at Changbin.

Changbin looked at Hyunjin.

And Hyunjin just sighed into his drink like:

finally.

You woke up warm, which immediately felt wrong. Because the beach had been freezing all night.

The fire had died hours ago, the ocean wind brutal enough to sneak through every layer of blankets and hoodies, and yet somehow—

you felt completely warm.

Still half-asleep, you frowned slightly and tried shifting.

Then froze.

Oh.

Oh my God.

Han’s arm was wrapped around your waist, not barely touching you, not accidentally brushing against you. Actually wrapped around you.

And worse—

your face was pressed against his chest. Your legs tangled together beneath the blankets, his hoodie bunched slightly in your hands like sometime during the night you unconsciously decided holding onto him was a good idea.

Your heartbeat immediately became violent.

What the hell.

Slowly, very slowly, you lifted your head slightly.

Han was still asleep. Messy blond hair falling over his eyes, breathing soft and steady while cold morning light filtered faintly through the tent around both of you.

And unfairly—

he looked really pretty like this, dangerously pretty.

You should move. Immediately. Right now. Instead, you stayed completely still, because this felt nice. Way too nice.

Warm in a way that had nothing to do with blankets. For one horrible selfish moment, you let yourself enjoy it. The steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. The warmth of his body against yours. The way his hand rested naturally at your waist like holding you there felt instinctive.

Nobody had ever held you like this before. Not gently. Not absentmindedly. Not like they wanted to keep you close even while asleep.

Your chest ached softly. Then Han moved slightly, you stopped breathing instantly.

His arm tightened around you automatically for half a second before his eyes slowly blinked open.

Silence.

Han stared at you. You stared back. Neither of you moved.

Then simultaneously—

both your brains caught up.

His eyes widened immediately.

“Oh my God.”

You sat up so fast you nearly hit your head against the top of the tent.

“I can explain.”

Han blinked sleepily, still trying to process reality.

“…Can you?”

“No.”

“That’s fair.”

The silence afterward felt unbearable, not bad unbearable.

Worse. Cute unbearable.

The kind where suddenly both of you became hyperaware of every tiny thing. The fact that your face had been against his chest. His hand on your waist. The warmth still lingering between both of you.

Han rubbed a hand down his face aggressively.

“…Okay wow.”

You immediately grabbed your scarf like emotional protection.

“This was because of the cold.”

“Mhm.”

“And the tiny tent.”

“Definitely.”

“And survival instincts.”

Han nodded too quickly.

“Right. Survival.”

Neither of you believed that even a little. Silence again. Then suddenly Han looked at you carefully.

“…You drool a little when you sleep.”

Your jaw dropped instantly.

“I do NOT.”

“You absolutely do.”

“You’re lying.”

Han grinned sleepily now, clearly recovering faster than you.

“You looked cute though.”

Your entire nervous system shut down immediately.

“…What.”

Han froze, again. Like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, then he panicked instantly.

“I mean—not cute cute.”

“That’s literally exactly what you said.”

“I meant like…” He visibly struggled. “…tiny sleepy creature cute.”

You stared at him flatly.

“That somehow made it worse.”

Han groaned dramatically and dropped backward onto the blankets.

“I need everyone else to wake up immediately.”

Unfortunately for both of you—

the universe listened.

Because seconds later Felix’s voice screamed from outside the tent:

“WHY IS IT SO COLD.”

Then Changbin:

“STOP STEALING THE BLANKETS.”

Then Hyunjin:

“If one more person touches me, I’m walking into the ocean.”

Normalcy returned instantly.

Thankfully.

Probably.

A little while later, everyone stumbled sleepily onto the beach beneath gray winter skies while you packed things in exhausted silence.

Mostly because you were trying very hard not to think about the fact that you woke up wrapped around Han Jisung and secretly didn’t want to move away.

Meanwhile Han wasn’t doing much better.

Every time your hands brushed while folding blankets, both of you reacted like static electricity personally attacked you.

At one point Felix narrowed his eyes suspiciously while watching both of you avoid eye contact.

“…You guys are weird this morning.”

“Shut up,” both of you answered immediately.

Changbin slowly looked between the two of you. Then grinned.

“Oh my God.”

Han pointed aggressively.

“Don’t start.”

“I didn’t even SAY anything.”

“You were about to.”

“Because you’re acting suspicious.”

Hyunjin looked up from stuffing snacks into a bag.

“You both look like divorced parents after a custody battle.”

You nearly choked.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means the tension is upsetting.”

Han physically covered his face with his hands.

“This trip was a mistake.”

But despite all the embarrassment—

despite the awkwardness and the way your heart kept acting stupid every time Han looked at you—

something had changed.

Because now you knew what it felt like to wake up in his arms.

And honestly?

That knowledge was ruining your life a little.

The drive back to Seoul started quietly.

Mostly because everyone was exhausted.

Felix was asleep against the window within ten minutes, mouth slightly open in a way that made him look deeply unintelligent. Changbin kept nodding off mid-sentence. Hyunjin had his headphones on while sketching absentmindedly in a tiny notebook balanced on his knee.

And Han—

Han sat beside you in the passenger seat suspiciously quiet, which honestly made things worse. Because after waking up tangled together in that tent, everything felt different now. Not dramatically different, subtly different.

Like suddenly every tiny thing became painfully noticeable. His knee brushing yours every time the car turned slightly. The way his voice sounded rougher after waking up. How warm his hand looked resting near the gear shift.

You hated your own brain lately.

Somewhere behind you, Felix suddenly sat up dramatically.

“I HAVE AN IDEA.”

Everyone groaned immediately.

“No,” Hyunjin answered before Felix even spoke.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Changbin looked half-asleep.

“…What.”

Felix leaned between the seats excitedly.

“We should do Christmas gifts.”

You blinked briefly.

“…For each other?”

“Yeah!”

Changbin immediately frowned.

“We literally have no money.”

“Exactly,” Felix said proudly. “That makes it meaningful.”

“That made no sense.”

Han looked toward the rearview mirror suspiciously.

“You just want presents.”

“I want friendship.”

“You want snacks.”

Felix gasped dramatically.

“How dare you.”

Still—

somehow the idea stuck. Probably because none of you really wanted the trip to end yet.

So thirty minutes later, all five of you sat inside the parked car outside a convenience store trying to organize a “secret” gift exchange while Changbin aggressively used torn receipt paper as lottery tickets.

“This is incredibly unofficial,” Hyunjin muttered.

“That’s part of the magic,” Felix answered.

You laughed softly while watching Changbin shove tiny folded papers into an empty coffee cup.

“Okay,” he announced dramatically. “Everyone pick.”

Han immediately pointed at Felix.

“If I get you, I’m buying gum.”

“That’s emotional abuse.”

One by one, everyone picked their names. You unfolded yours carefully.

Hyunjin.

You smiled slightly.

Okay.

That was manageable.

Then instinctively—

you looked sideways toward Han.

He was already staring down at his own paper andnd for some reason your chest tightened nervously. Please don’t let me be him.

Not because you didn’t want Han. Honestly? That was exactly the problem. You were already overthinking every interaction with him. Buying him a gift would probably emotionally destroy you.

A second later Han looked up.

And immediately looked away suspiciously fast.

Oh no.

Your heartbeat stumbled slightly, there was no way. Right?

Meanwhile Felix slammed his hands dramatically against the seat.

“SHOPPING TIME.”

The convenience store became immediate chaos.

Changbin kept trying to buy joke gifts. Felix wanted wrapping paper despite nobody being able to afford wrapping paper. Hyunjin disappeared entirely.

And you wandered slowly through the aisles trying to figure out what exactly Hyunjin would even like.

Eventually you settled on:

black pens and weirdly expensive coffee candies he always bought but never admitted liking.

Not perfect, but personal. Which apparently mattered more now.

Meanwhile—

Han was suffering.

Because unfortunately, Han Jisung had pulled your name. And suddenly buying a cheap Christmas gift felt like a life-or-death situation. He wandered the convenience store for almost twenty minutes carrying absolutely nothing while internally panicking.

What do you buy for a girl who used to own Chanel?

A girl who used to vacation in Italy and somehow still gets excited over convenience store ramyeon now.

A girl who deserved better gifts than anything inside this tiny store.

Han sighed quietly and shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets.

Then suddenly—

he saw them.

Your favorite chocolates. The expensive imported ones you once pointed out weeks ago while walking through a grocery store. You hadn’t even asked for them. Just looked at them for half a second longer than normal before saying:

“My mom used to buy these all the time.”

That was it. One tiny sentence, but Han remembered.

Unfortunately for his wallet, they were ridiculously expensive.

Han stared at the price, then at the chocolates, then back at the price.

“…You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Buying them would leave him almost completely broke.Which honestly should’ve stopped him.

nstead, he grabbed them immediately.

Because somewhere over the past few months, making you smile had become dangerously important to him, and that was apparently everyone else’s problem now.

An hour later, the five of you stopped near a small hill overlooking the ocean before continuing back to Seoul. The sun had already started setting again, turning the water gold and pale blue beneath the winter sky. Cold wind moved softly through the grass while everyone sat in a messy circle bundled in hoodies and blankets.

Felix clapped excitedly.

“Okay! Gifts!”

Changbin immediately pointed at him.

“If you got me something ugly, I’m leaving you here.”

“You can’t survive alone.”

“That’s fair.”

One by one, gifts started exchanging hands.

Hyunjin looked genuinely shocked when he opened your gift.

“You remembered the coffee candies.”

You smiled shyly.

“You buy them every day.”

He stared at you for a second.

Then softer:

“…Nobody notices that.”

Your chest warmed slightly.

Meanwhile Felix nearly cried over the tiny plush keychain Changbin bought him.

And somehow, despite the cheap gifts and freezing weather—

everything felt painfully sincere.

Then finally—

Han looked toward you.

Your stomach flipped immediately. He held out a small paper bag awkwardly without fully meeting your eyes.

“…Merry Christmas.”

The air suddenly felt too cold, too quiet. You took the bag carefully.

And the second you looked inside—

your breath caught.

The chocolates.

Those chocolates.

Your chest tightened instantly.

“…Han.”

He shrugged quickly like it wasn’t important, but you immediately noticed something. The price sticker still partially attached to the back.

Your eyes widened slightly, those weren’t cheap. Not even close.

And suddenly you realized:

he probably spent most of his remaining money on these.

You looked up slowly.

“Han, these are expensive.”

He shrugged again.

“So?”

“So—you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.”

The simplicity of the answer hit harder than expected. Around you, the others had gone suspiciously quiet. Watching, observing.

Because the look on Han’s face right now was devastatingly obvious. Soft. Nervous. Like your reaction genuinely mattered to him.

And the worst part?

It did matter.

Too much.

You stared down at the chocolates again. Something so small. So simple. And somehow it meant more than almost every expensive gift from your old life combined. Because nobody had ever paid attention to you like this before, not enough to remember tiny things you barely said out loud.

Your eyes burned slightly from the cold, or maybe not from the cold at all.

So before you could overthink it, you smiled softly at him. A real one. Warm enough to completely ruin Han emotionally.

“…Thank you.”

And suddenly—

every won he spent felt worth it immediately.

Even if he was now financially devastated.

Because sitting there on a hill above the ocean watching you hold those chocolates carefully like they actually mattered—

Han realized something terrifying.

He would probably spend the rest of his life trying to make you smile like that again.

taglist:@velvetmoonlght @jiaaabbahng @rrhwang

[skzficdump]

Secondhand VII

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 4.8 k (they cut my wings so stay tuned for part two of the beach trip)

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

part I / part II / part III / part IV / part V / part VI / part VII / part VIII

Winter break felt wrong this year. Not bad exactly.

Just—

empty.

In your old life, vacations never meant staying home.

By December, your mother would already be planning flights while your father complained dramatically about luggage space despite owning enough money to buy extra seats if necessary. Winter usually meant New York decorated in Christmas lights, or skiing in Canada, or Italy during colder months because your mother loved “European winters.” Sometimes beaches in Mexico when your parents got tired of snow entirely.

Your life used to move constantly.

Airports.

Hotels.

Luxury stores.

Different countries like changing outfits.

Now?

You spent most mornings curled beneath blankets in your apartment listening to the radiator make concerning noises. Which honestly felt deeply offensive considering how your life used to look. You were thinking exactly that while sitting near the river with the boys one freezing afternoon.

Felix dramatically threw himself backward onto the bench.

“I’m bored.”

“You’re always bored,” Hyunjin muttered.

“I need enrichment.”

“You sound like a zoo animal.”

Felix ignored him completely.

“We should go somewhere.”

Changbin immediately nodded.

“Yes.”

Han looked suspicious.

“That answer came too fast.”

Changbin pointed aggressively toward Felix.

“He’s starting to pace emotionally.”

“That’s fair.”

You laughed softly while adjusting your scarf higher against the cold.

“Where would we even go?”

Felix gasped dramatically.

“The beach.”

Everyone stared at him.

“…In winter?” Han asked.

“Yes.”

“That sounds medically dangerous.”

Felix crossed his arms stubbornly.

“I miss summer.”

Hyunjin looked up from his sketchbook.

“We can’t afford a beach trip.”

“True,” Changbin sighed.

You tilted your head slightly.

“There are cheap beaches nearby though.”

Four heads turned toward you immediately.

You blinked.

“…What?”

“How do YOU know cheap beaches,” Han asked suspiciously.

You shrugged casually.

“I’ve been to a lot of beaches.”

Changbin narrowed his eyes.

“…How many is ‘a lot.’”

You thought about it honestly.

“…Mexico had really nice ones.”

The silence afterward felt heavy. Felix blinked once.

“…Mexico?”

“Mhm.”

“Like. The country.”

“Yes?”

Han stared at you.

“You’ve been to Mexico.”

You frowned slightly.

“…Why are you saying it like it’s illegal.”

“Soojin,” Changbin interrupted slowly, “how many countries have you been to?”

You paused. Then started counting casually on your fingers.

“Japan, China, the United States, Mexico, Canada for skiing once, Italy, France…”

The more you listed, the quieter they got.

“…Thailand too,” you continued. “And Singapore but I barely remember that one.”

Absolute silence.

Then Felix whispered dramatically:

“What the hell.”

You blinked.

“What?”

Hyunjin looked genuinely stunned for once.

“I’ve literally never left Korea.”

“Same,” Changbin muttered.

Han stared at you like you personally knew world leaders.

“You’ve just casually BEEN everywhere?”

You laughed awkwardly.

“When you say it like that it sounds weird.”

“Because it IS weird.”

Felix looked emotionally devastated.

“I thought Busan was exotic.”

You burst into laughter.

Meanwhile Changbin suddenly sat up straighter.

“Wait.”

Everyone looked at him.

“My sister.”

Han immediately looked concerned.

“That sentence never ends well.”

“She has a car.”

Silence.

Then Felix gasped so loudly nearby people turned around.

“No way.”

Changbin looked increasingly proud of himself.

“I can ask to borrow it.”

Han stared.

“…You can drive?”

“Terribly.”

“That’s terrifying.”

Changbin pointed dramatically toward you.

“But SHE can.”

Everyone looked at you immediately.

You blinked.

“…Me?”

“You’re eighteen,” Felix said hopefully.

“And rich people know how to drive expensive cars.”

“That’s not how driving works.”

Han narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“…Can you actually drive?”

You hesitated slightly.

“…I learned when I was fifteen.”

Felix nearly screamed.

“Oh my God.”

“In my defense,” you added quickly, “my father was very intense about it.”

“Of course he was,” Hyunjin muttered.

Suddenly all four boys looked way too excited. And honestly? It was contagious.

A road trip. You hadn’t done something spontaneous like that in years. Your old trips had always been planned down to the minute.

Luxury hotels booked months in advance.

Private drivers.

Schedules.

This felt different.

Messy.

Fun.

Real.

Han looked at you carefully.

“…Would your mom be okay with it?”

You smiled slightly.

“She’d probably be happy I’m going outside voluntarily.”

“That’s concerning.”

“She’s not wrong.”

Changbin suddenly stood up dramatically.

“ROAD TRIP.”

“WE HAVE NO MONEY,” Hyunjin yelled immediately.

That became the next problem.

The planning session moved directly into your apartment later that evening, snd quickly devolved into chaos.

Felix spread snacks across the floor like military supplies. Changbin attempted budgeting and somehow made things worse.

Han kept crossing out unnecessary expenses aggressively.

“Why are you writing ‘emergency gummy bears.’”

“Because emergencies happen.”

“That is NOT an emergency.”

“It could be emotionally.”

Meanwhile you sat on the floor beside Han trying not to notice how your shoulders kept brushing accidentally.

Or how warm he felt beside you.

Very normal things to notice.

Definitely.

“We should split gas money equally,” Hyunjin said.

Felix immediately looked horrified.

“Using WHAT money.”

Changbin sighed dramatically.

“We’re actually poor.”

You smiled softly.

“…I can pay more if needed.”

All four heads snapped toward you immediately. Han frowned.

“No.”

“It’s okay.”

“No.”

“You guys literally helped me survive the past few months.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Your chest warmed slightly at how firm he sounded. Like taking care of you mattered to him personally.

Which—

dangerous thought.

Very dangerous.

Eventually the planning became more ridiculous than practical. Arguments over playlists. Felix insisting everyone needed matching snacks “for emotional unity.” Changbin trying to convince everyone sleeping in the car was “character building.” Hyunjin threatening violence if someone snored.

And through all of it—

you couldn’t stop smiling.

Because sitting there on the floor of your tiny apartment surrounded by loud stupid people arguing over beach snacks somehow felt more exciting than half the luxury vacations from your old life.

Not because the trip itself would be better.

But because this time—

you actually cared about the people you were traveling with.

The road trip started at six in the morning.

Which immediately became everyone’s first problem.

“I hate all of you,” Hyunjin muttered the second Changbin’s sister drove away and left the car with you. Felix sat half-asleep in the backseat wearing a hoodie over his entire face like a depressed ghost.

Meanwhile Han leaned against the passenger door looking personally betrayed by the existence of mornings.

Only you looked awake. Mostly because anxiety physically refused to let you sleep. You stared at the car keys in your hands nervously. It had been a long time since you drove.

Back then it had always been luxury cars your father insisted you learn on. Smooth engines. Huge interiors. Expensive leather seats that smelled new.

This car—

this tiny slightly dented car with stickers on the dashboard and suspicious crumbs in the cupholders—

felt completely different.

And somehow that made you even more nervous.

Changbin noticed immediately.

“You okay?”

You nodded too fast.

“Yep.”

Han narrowed his eyes.

“That sounded fake.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re gripping the keys like they owe you money.”

You looked down.

Oh.

Your knuckles were white.

Embarrassing.

Before you could say anything, Han gently took the keys from your hands.

Your eyes widened slightly.

“Hey—”

Then he placed them back slowly, more carefully this time. His fingers brushed yours for half a second.

“You’ll do fine,” he said softly.

And stupidly—

that helped.

Way more than it should have.

An hour later, all five of you were officially on the road, and immediately, everything became chaotic.

Felix controlled the music for exactly seven minutes before everyone threatened him violently. Changbin kept trying to open snacks while the car moved and nearly killed himself twice. Hyunjin fell asleep against the window almost instantly.

And Han—

Han somehow became your permanent passenger princess.

“You missed the turn.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

“Trust the process.”

“There IS no process.”

You laughed softly while adjusting your grip on the wheel.

Outside, Seoul slowly disappeared behind highways and snowy mountains while morning sunlight spilled across the road.

The farther you drove, the lighter your chest started feeling.

No school.

No apartment.

No whispers about your family.

Just road noise, bad music, and your friends screaming over each other in the backseat. It felt strangely freeing. At some point Felix sat up dramatically.

“PHOTO BREAK.”

“No,” Hyunjin answered immediately without opening his eyes.

“Yes.”

“We are literally moving.”

Felix ignored him completely and leaned forward between the seats toward you.

“Soojin.”

“Hm?”

“Pull over somewhere pretty.”

Han snorted beside you.

“He says that like she controls geography.”

Still—

twenty minutes later, you stopped near a snowy overlook beside the ocean.

And suddenly everyone became emotional.

“Oh my God,” Felix whispered dramatically.

The beach stretched endlessly below the cliffs, waves crashing softly against dark rocks while winter wind whipped through the air.

It looked cold, lonely, beautiful.

You stepped out of the car slowly with your camera hanging around your neck. The air smelled like salt and snow. Han watched you quietly while you immediately started taking pictures.

Of the ocean.

Of the sky.

Of Felix pretending to dramatically Titanic-pose near the railing.

And for a second—

Han stopped listening to everyone else entirely.

Because you looked happy.

Not polite happy.

Not trying-to-be-okay happy.

Actually happy.

Your cheeks pink from cold, oversized coat moving in the wind while you smiled behind your camera.

Dangerous.

Very dangerous.

Changbin noticed him staring immediately. He slowly looked toward Hyunjin, then subtly nodded toward Han. Hyunjin glanced over once. Saw the expression on Han’s face. And nearly laughed.

Gone.

Absolutely gone.

Meanwhile you turned suddenly.

“HAN.”

He blinked immediately.

“What.”

“Stand there.”

“…Why.”

“I wanna take your picture.”

Han physically recoiled.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“You literally dyed your hair blond. Let me document your bad decisions.”

Felix screamed laughing somewhere behind you. Han groaned dramatically but eventually walked toward the railing anyway.

“Make me look cool.”

“That’s impossible.”

“You’re evil.”

You laughed softly before lifting the camera.

And again—

the second you looked at him through the lens, your chest tightened strangely. Han stood with snowy ocean waves behind him, blond hair messy in the wind while he squinted slightly against the cold.

Beautiful.

Actually beautiful.

The realization hit so suddenly it almost startled you. You quickly took the photo before your thoughts got worse. Han immediately walked over afterward.

“Lemme see.”

“No.”

“That’s literally my face!”

“Exactly.”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“You take a weird amount of pictures of me.”

Your stomach flipped instantly.

“…I do not.”

“You absolutely do.”

Felix suddenly appeared beside both of you dramatically.

“She does.”

Your head snapped toward him.

“Felix!”

“I’ve seen the camera roll!”

Han blinked slowly.

“…What.”

“Oh my God shut up.”

Felix looked delighted by your panic.

“There’s like fifty pictures of him.”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE.”

Han stared at you now with an expression that made your heartbeat deeply unsafe.

“…Fifty?”

“You people are horrible.”

Changbin looked thoughtful.

“That’s kinda romantic.”

“It’s NOT romantic.”

But unfortunately—

your face had gone completely red, and Han noticed immediately. Which meant now HE was blushing too. Hyunjin watched the entire interaction while drinking coffee quietly.

Disaster, he thought.

Absolute disaster.

Eventually everyone piled back into the car freezing and loud and covered in snow.

You drove farther down the coast afterward while music played softly now, exhaustion finally calming everyone down slightly.

At some point, Changbin and Felix both fell asleep in the backseat.

Hyunjin had headphones on beside them sketching quietly.

And suddenly it was just you and Han awake.

The ocean stretched beside the road endlessly beneath pale winter sunlight.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then softly—

“You look happier lately.”

You glanced at Han briefly.

“…Do I?”

“Mhm.”

You looked back at the road quietly.

Maybe you did.

Not because your life had magically fixed itself.

Your father was still in prison.

Your family was still broken.

Money was still terrifying.

But somewhere between buses, flea markets, bad ramyeon, and abandoned buildings—

you had started living again.

And honestly?

A lot of that was because of him.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel slightly.

Then smiled softly.

“…I think I am.”

Han looked at you for a second too long after that. Then quietly smiled too.

And neither of you noticed Changbin opening one eye from the backseat. Watching both of you silently. Before immediately texting Felix:

they’re disgusting omg

By the time you finally reached Incheon, everyone was exhausted. Two hours trapped in a car together had apparently driven all of you slightly insane. Felix had sung the same chorus incorrectly for almost thirty minutes straight. Changbin and Hyunjin nearly fought over chips. Han kept stealing your coffee every time you stopped at red lights.

And somehow—

despite all of it—

you hadn’t stopped smiling once.

The beach looked almost empty when you parked nearby.

Winter waves crashed softly against the shore while cold wind carried the smell of salt through the air. The sky had already started turning darker shades of blue and orange as evening settled slowly over the ocean.

For a moment, all five of you just stood there quietly looking at the water.

Then Felix immediately screamed:

“OH MY GOD WE MADE IT.”

And sprinted directly toward the beach.

Hyunjin looked deeply exhausted already.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Meanwhile Changbin stretched dramatically beside the car.

“So.”

Silence.

Everyone looked at each other. Then Han frowned slightly.

“…Wait.”

You blinked.

“What?”

“Where exactly are we sleeping.”

Silence again. A much more concerning silence this time. Your eyes widened slightly.

Oh.

Right.

Sleeping.

Thankfully, unlike the rest of them, you actually planned ahead.

“…I brought tents.”

Four heads snapped toward you instantly. Felix looked ready to cry.

“You’re the smartest person alive.”

“I know,” Han muttered. “It’s terrifying.”

You opened the trunk proudly and pulled out two folded camping tents.

And for one beautiful second—

everyone relaxed.

Then Changbin looked closer.

“…Wait.”

You paused.

“What.”

“There’s only two.”

“…Yes?”

Another silence.

Then slowly—

all five of you did the math simultaneously. Your stomach dropped immediately.

Oh no.

One tent was big enough for three people comfortably. The other maybe two.

Which meant—

someone had to sleep with you.

And unfortunately, every single person there immediately reached the exact same conclusion. Felix pointed dramatically.

“Han.”

You nearly choked. Han looked equally alarmed.

“What.”

“You’re obviously sleeping with Soojin.”

“WHY OBVIOUSLY?” both of you yelled at the same time.

Changbin looked genuinely confused.

“Because none of us are.”

“That’s not reasoning!”

“Yes it is.”

Hyunjin nodded calmly.

“You two are the least likely to kill each other.”

“That’s debatable,” Han muttered.

Meanwhile your heart had already started beating way too fast. Sleeping beside Han. Again. Absolutely not. Not because it made you uncomfortable.

Honestly?

That was the problem. You were far too comfortable with him now. Which somehow felt even more dangerous. You crossed your arms quickly.

“No.”

Four faces turned toward you.

Han blinked.

“…No?”

You avoided eye contact immediately.

“I can sleep alone.”

Changbin pointed toward the tiny tent.

“No you cannot.”

Felix looked deeply offended.

“That’s physically impossible.”

You looked anywhere except Han.

“It’ll be fine.”

Then unfortunately—

Han opened his mouth. And destroyed your life instantly.

“Soojin,” he said casually, “we’ve literally slept together before.”

Absolute silence. The ocean waves crashed dramatically behind all of you. Felix froze. Changbin’s jaw dropped. Even Hyunjin looked mildly shocked for once. Your soul physically left your body.

“HAN JISUNG.”

His eyes widened immediately.

“Oh my God WAIT—”

“You phrased that HORRIBLY.”

“I MEANT THE BUILDING.”

Changbin screamed.

“THE WHAT?”

Felix looked seconds away from passing out laughing.

“You slept together in a BUILDING?”

“THAT SOUNDS WORSE,” you cried.

Han covered his face aggressively with both hands.

“This is not going well.”

Hyunjin finally spoke.

“…Did you mean when you both accidentally slept overnight at the abandoned building after the party.”

You pointed at him emotionally.

“YES.”

Felix looked disappointed immediately.

“Oh.”

Changbin crossed his arms.

“That’s significantly less scandalous.”

Your face still burned violently. Meanwhile Han looked equally destroyed beside you. Because now EVERYONE was staring at both of you weirdly. Felix narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“…Wait.”

“No,” both of you answered instantly.

“You answered too fast.”

“Felix,” Han said flatly, “I will drown you in the ocean.”

Unfortunately, Felix only looked more excited now. Meanwhile your embarrassment kept getting worse because the truth was:

sleeping beside Han again absolutely WOULD affect you.

You already knew that. One night leaning against his shoulder had permanently altered your emotional stability.

Actually sharing a tiny tent with him?

Terrible idea.

Awful.

Dangerous.

Which meant naturally—

that was exactly what ended up happening.

About thirty minutes later, both tents were finally set up near the beach while the temperature dropped rapidly.

Felix and Changbin immediately disappeared into their tent arguing over blankets. Hyunjin simply looked at you both with exhausted judgment before following them.

Leaving you alone beside Han awkwardly. The cold wind suddenly felt much stronger. Han rubbed the back of his neck slightly.

“So…”

You stared very intensely at the ocean.

“…Mhm.”

“…You know I didn’t mean it like that earlier, right.”

“I know.”

Silence.

Then quieter—

“…You’re still red though.”

Your head snapped toward him immediately.

“I hate you.”

Han laughed softly.

And annoyingly—

that made everything feel less awkward instantly.

He looked toward the tent beside you both. Then back at you carefully.

“You okay?”

You hesitated. Because the honest answer sounded humiliating.

No Han, I’m nervous because I think I like you too much now.

Instead, you shrugged lightly.

“…Just don’t snore.”

Han looked offended immediately.

“I do NOT snore.”

From the other tent, Changbin yelled:

“HE DOES.”

Han looked murderous instantly.

“TRAITOR.”

By midnight, the beach had gone almost completely silent.

The waves still crashed softly against the shore, steady and endless beneath the dark winter sky, but everything else had calmed.

Felix and Changbin had finally stopped arguing from inside their tent about whether chips counted as a proper dinner. Hyunjin had threatened murder twice.

Then eventually—

silence.

Everyone asleep, except you.

You stared at the ceiling of the tent for what felt like hours, listening painfully to every tiny sound around you. The wind outside. The ocean.

Han shifting slightly beside you every now and then. That part especially was ruining your life. Because the tent was small. Way too small. Which meant you were hyperaware of everything. How close he was. The warmth coming from him beneath the blankets. The faint smell of laundry detergent mixed with cold air lingering in his hoodie.

You squeezed your eyes shut aggressively.

Sleep.

Please.

Unfortunately, your brain had apparently decided suffering was more entertaining.

After another ten minutes, you finally gave up quietly. Careful not to wake Han, you slowly unzipped the tent and slipped outside into the freezing air.

The cold hit immediately.

But honestly?

It felt good after the unbearable warmth inside the tent. You wrapped your arms around yourself and walked toward the shoreline slowly.

The ocean looked different at night.

Darker.

Lonelier somehow.

You stood there quietly for a while, staring at the waves beneath moonlight while cold wind pushed strands of hair across your face.

And for a second—

you felt peaceful.

Then behind you:

“…Can’t sleep either?”

You turned immediately.

Han stood a few feet away looking half-awake, blond hair messy from sleep while his hands stayed shoved into his hoodie pockets.

And then his eyes narrowed slightly.

“…Wait.”

Your stomach dropped.

Because you realized something horrible.

In your sleepy attempt to leave quietly—

you accidentally grabbed his hoodie instead of yours.

Han stared at the oversized dark hoodie hanging off your frame. Then slowly looked back up at you.

“…You put on my sweatshirt.”

Your entire face burned instantly.

“Oh my God.”

You immediately grabbed the sleeves awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, I thought it was mine—”

Han laughed softly.

“No, don’t take it off.”

You blinked.

“…What?”

“It’s fine.”

His voice sounded strangely quiet now. Softer than usual.

And unfortunately—

Han was currently trying VERY hard not to admit something to himself.

Because the sight of you standing there in his hoodie beneath moonlight was doing emotionally catastrophic things to him.

You looked small inside it.

Warm.

Sleepy.

Safe.

Cute in a way that physically hurt his chest a little. Han decided immediately he would rather die than confess any of that out loud.

So instead he shrugged casually.

“Keep it.”

You stared at him.

“…Really?”

“Mhm.”

Then quickly, before his brain betrayed him further:

“You look cold.”

Not: you look beautiful in my clothes.

Definitely not that.

You smiled softly anyway, pulling the sleeves over your hands slightly.

“…Thank you.”

The silence afterward felt warm despite the freezing weather. Then your eyes drifted toward the large rocks farther down the shore. Dark shapes near the water where waves crashed softly against the edges.

And immediately, a terrible idea formed.

You pointed dramatically.

“I wanna climb those.”

Han blinked slowly.

“…Those are rocks.”

“Yes.”

“In the dark.”

“Yes.”

“In winter.”

You crossed your arms.

“You’re ruining the vibe.”

Han stared at you for another second, then sighed dramatically.

“Fine.”

Your face lit up immediately.

And unfortunately—

that reaction alone made agreeing worth it.

The walk across the sand was harder than expected, especially with wind nearly freezing your bones off. At one point you slipped slightly near the rocks and immediately grabbed Han’s arm instinctively.

Both of you froze for half a second. Your hand around his sleeve. His heartbeat suddenly way too loud.

Then Han recovered first.

“…Careful.”

You nodded quickly and let go.

Which somehow made the cold feel stronger immediately.

Eventually you reached the rocks near the edge of the water. They looked bigger up close, more dangerous too. Han climbed first easily before turning back toward you.

“Okay.”

You looked up suspiciously.

“Okay what.”

“Give me your hand.”

Your heartbeat stumbled immediately.

Oh.

You hesitated for exactly one second too long. Han noticed instantly.

“…Soojin.”

“What.”

“You’re literally shaking.”

“It’s cold!”

“Mhm.”

He absolutely did not believe you.

Still—

Han reached his hand down patiently anyway. And after a second, you placed yours in his.

Warm.

That was the first thing you noticed. Even in freezing weather, his hands always felt warm.

Han carefully helped pull you upward while you tried VERY hard not to think about how close he suddenly was.

Unfortunately, that became impossible when your foot slipped slightly against the rock.

You gasped quietly.

Han caught you immediately. One hand gripping yours. The other suddenly at your waist. Your breath caught instantly.

And for one terrifying second—

your faces were way too close.

Close enough for you to see the tiny mole beneath his eye. Close enough to feel his breathing. Han froze too. His hand tightened slightly at your waist instinctively. Neither of you moved. The ocean crashed loudly behind you. Your heart pounded so hard it almost hurt.

Then suddenly—

Changbin’s voice screamed faintly from the tents somewhere behind you:

“IF YOU TWO FALL INTO THE OCEAN I’M NOT SAVING YOU.”

Both of you jumped apart immediately. Han cleared his throat aggressively.

“…Okay wow. He ruined the cinematic moment.”

Your face still burned violently.

“What cinematic moment?”

Han looked at you for half a second, then smiled slightly.

“…Exactly.”

And somehow—

that answer made your stomach flip even worse.

Morning in Incheon arrived painfully early.

Mostly because Felix woke everyone up by accidentally kicking the tent wall. You sat up slowly inside the tent, still half-asleep beneath blankets while winter sunlight filtered softly through the fabric overhead.

And immediately—

you became aware of Han beside you.

Again.

Too close again.

At some point during the night, both of you had apparently shifted closer together for warmth without realizing it. Your shoulder rested lightly against his arm beneath the blankets. Han looked equally frozen after waking up and noticing.

Silence.

Then:

“…We’re ignoring this,” he mumbled sleepily.

You nodded immediately.

“Absolutely.”

From outside the tent, Changbin yelled:

“IF YOU TWO ARE SECRETLY DATING I NEED YOU TO KNOW IT’S AFFECTING ME EMOTIONALLY.”

Han grabbed a pillow immediately.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

An hour later, all five of you wandered through the streets of Incheon half-awake and freezing.

The city looked beautiful in winter.

Cold ocean air drifted between narrow streets lined with tiny shops, old signs, convenience stores, and restaurants squeezed together tightly beneath faded awnings.

Nothing looked luxurious.

Nothing looked polished.

But everything felt alive.

Felix walked backward dramatically in front of everyone while eating fish-shaped bread.

“I love civilization.”

“You said you hated mornings twenty minutes ago,” Hyunjin muttered.

“I contain multitudes.”

Meanwhile, you stayed beside Han quietly while your camera hung around your neck.

And honestly?

Everything fascinated you, not because Incheon itself was unfamiliar. You’d technically been there before as a child.

But back then your experience of cities had always been filtered through luxury hotels and private cars.

You never walked places, never wandered randomly, never entered tiny restaurants unless magazines called them “hidden gems.”

Now?

You were seeing everything differently, a tiny shop selling handmade dumplings, old couples carrying groceries together, students squeezed into tiny cafés laughing loudly.

Normal life.

Real life.

At some point, you stopped walking in front of a tiny restaurant with fogged-up windows.

The smell drifting outside immediately made Felix emotional.

“Oh my God.”

Changbin looked equally serious.

“This place.”

Han glanced toward you.

“You hungry?”

You hesitated slightly while looking at the restaurant. It looked tiny, old. The menu hanging outside was handwritten.

Months ago, the old version of you probably would’ve walked past without a second glance.

Now—

you found yourself curious instead. So you nodded softly.

And five minutes later, all of you sat squeezed together inside one tiny booth while steam filled the warm little restaurant.

An older woman brought over bowls of ramyeon and fried dumplings almost immediately. The entire place smelled incredible. You looked around quietly while Felix nearly cried over the food already.

“This is what happiness tastes like.”

“You say that about every meal,” Hyunjin said.

“Because food is beautiful.”

Meanwhile, Han watched you carefully from across the table. Because every time you experienced something new lately, your expression changed slightly.

Softer.

Like part of you still couldn’t believe this life belonged to you now. You picked up your chopsticks slowly.

“…This place is really cute.”

Changbin looked scandalized.

“Cute?”

“This place is held together by emotional support.”

You laughed softly. Then took your first bite, snd immediately paused.

Han noticed instantly.

“…Bad?”

You looked up slowly.

“…This might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Felix slammed his hands dramatically onto the table.

“SHE UNDERSTANDS.”

Han grinned slightly into his drink.

“You’re easy to impress now.”

You frowned at him immediately.

“That sounded rude.”

“You used to eat food decorated with flowers.”

“That happened ONE time, maybe more”

“Rich people scare me.”

You smiled despite yourself while warmth slowly spread through your chest. And honestly?

You couldn’t tell anymore if the food actually tasted incredible—

or if everything simply felt better around these people.

Especially him.

After breakfast, the five of you explored the city aimlessly for hours. Changbin forced everyone into an arcade. Felix bought matching keychains for “friendship symbolism.” Hyunjin disappeared into a tiny bookstore and emerged twenty minutes later with three sketchbooks and coffee. Meanwhile you took photos of everything.

The ocean.

Street signs.

Steam rising from food stalls.

Han when he wasn’t paying attention.

That last part had become a problem recently.

Because your camera roll now consisted of:

sunsets

ramen

blurry buses

and an alarming amount of Han Jisung

At one point, while everyone else argued over snacks near a convenience store, you lifted your camera toward Han again instinctively. He looked up immediately.

Caught you, snd narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“…Were you taking another picture of me?”

You lowered the camera way too fast.

“No.”

“That was the most guilty ‘no’ I’ve ever heard.”

Felix immediately looked over.

“She absolutely was.”

“Oh my God,” you muttered.

Han walked closer slowly. Dangerously closer. Until he stood directly in front of you with snowflakes melting slightly into his blond hair.

“…How many pictures of me do you actually have.”

You looked away immediately.

“Not that many.”

“Soojin.”

“…Enough.”

Han laughed softly.

And unfortunately—

the sound still affected you way too much. Then suddenly he leaned down slightly toward the camera hanging around your neck.

“Lemme see.”

Your heartbeat instantly became unsafe. Because now he was close enough for you to smell his hoodie again. Close enough that your shoulders almost touched.

You held the camera protectively against yourself.

“No.”

“Why.”

“Privacy.”

“You literally photograph me like wildlife.”

“That’s because you act like wildlife.”

Han looked deeply offended. Meanwhile behind you, Changbin whispered dramatically to Felix:

“They’re gonna kiss accidentally one day.”

“Absolutely.”

Hyunjin didn’t even look up from his coffee.

“It’s inevitable at this point.”

Neither of you heard them.

Because both of you were too busy staring at each other slightly too long again while cold ocean wind moved softly through the streets around you.

And once more—

neither of you realized how obvious this had become to everyone else.

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Secondhand VI

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 2.9 k

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

part I / part II / part III / part IV / part V / part VI / part VII

The jealousy incident should’ve passed.

Should’ve.

Instead, it sat inside your chest all week like something unresolved and embarrassing. Especially because Han had started acting different afterward.

Not dramatically.

Subtly.

Like he was suddenly very aware of you.

More teasing. More attention. Sitting closer than usual. Looking suspiciously pleased every time you reacted to him.

Which was annoying.

Very annoying.

So by Thursday afternoon, when you remembered the girl from earlier mentioning Friday, curiosity got the better of you.

You sat beside Han on the bus after school, camera hanging around your neck while snow blurred softly outside the windows.

“…What’s on Friday?”

Han looked up from his notebook.

“Hm?”

“That girl asked if you were going somewhere.”

“Oh.” He shrugged casually. “Party.”

You blinked.

“…You go to parties?”

Han looked offended.

“What’s THAT supposed to mean?”

“You look like you’d get kicked out immediately.”

“That’s actually happened before.”

You laughed softly.

Then after a second—

“…Can I go?”

Han immediately stopped smiling.

“…No.”

Your eyebrows lifted.

“What?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve never been to a party like this.”

“How do you know?”

Han stared at you flatly.

“Soojin. Your old parties probably had string quartets.”

“That is not true.”

“You definitely had rich people jazz somewhere.”

“…Maybe once.”

Han pointed dramatically.

“Exactly.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I wanna go.”

“No.”

“Han.”

“You’ll hate it.”

“You don’t know that.”

Actually—

he kind of did.

But before he could argue further, Felix suddenly leaned over the seat behind you dramatically.

“TAKE HER.”

Han looked horrified.

“Absolutely not.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“She’s gonna get overwhelmed in thirty minutes.”

Changbin appeared beside Felix immediately.

“She survived us. She can survive drunk teenagers.”

“That is NOT reassuring.”

Even Hyunjin looked up from his phone.

“She should go.”

Han stared at all three of them in betrayal.

“You people are evil.”

Eventually—

mostly because you kept looking at him hopefully—

Han gave in.

But very reluctantly.

Friday night arrived freezing cold.

And standing outside your apartment while waiting for Han suddenly felt weirdly nerve-wracking. Not because of the party.

Because of him.

You spent way too long choosing clothes before finally settling on black jeans, boots, and one of the oversized sweaters from the flea market.

Simple.

Warm.

You stared at yourself nervously before leaving. This wasn’t your old life anymore.

No designer dresses.

No luxury penthouses.

No curated rich-kid parties.

This was Han’s world.

And for some reason, you wanted to fit into it.

When you stepped outside, Han immediately looked up from his phone.

And froze slightly.

Your sweater slipped off one shoulder slightly beneath your coat, hair messy from the wind, camera hanging lazily around your wrist.

Cute.

Dangerously cute.

Han physically looked away for a second to recover.

Meanwhile you frowned.

“…Why are you making that face?”

“No reason.”

“You’re being weird again.”

“You started it.”

“That sentence made no sense.”

Han shoved his hands deeper into his pockets aggressively while walking beside you.

The party was in a cramped apartment near Hongdae.

And the second you stepped inside—

you realized Han had been completely right.

Music blasted so loudly the walls vibrated. The apartment smelled like alcohol, cigarettes, cheap perfume, and something vaguely illegal. People crowded everywhere. Laughing. Yelling. Dancing badly.

Someone was literally sitting on the kitchen counter.

You froze instantly.

Han noticed immediately.

“…You okay?”

“Why are there this many people.”

“That’s kinda how parties work.”

“This feels unsafe.”

Han snorted softly.

“You sound like somebody’s disappointed mother.”

You glared at him weakly.

But honestly?

You already wanted to leave.

People shoved past constantly. Strangers talked too loudly. Someone spilled alcohol near your shoes within the first ten minutes.

This was nothing like the polished luxury parties you grew up attending.

Those had rules.

Elegance.

Distance.

This felt chaotic.

Messy.

Real.

Unfortunately—

after about thirty minutes, Felix handed you a drink.

And things started becoming significantly easier. Then another drink appeared. Then another.

And somewhere between Changbin screaming song lyrics dramatically and Hyunjin arguing with strangers about music, you accidentally got very drunk.

Very drunk.

Han realized it too late.

“Soojin,” he said slowly while staring at you. “How much did you drink.”

You blinked at him happily.

“…The pink ones.”

“That explains NOTHING.”

You burst into laughter immediately.

Oh no.

Your cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy, movements softer and slower now while you clung slightly to Han’s sleeve to stay balanced.

Felix looked delighted.

“She’s adorable drunk.”

“She’s terrifying drunk,” Han corrected.

Mostly because drunk Soojin suddenly lost all sense of personal space.

“You’re really pretty blond,” you informed Han very seriously while poking his cheek. Han nearly choked. Changbin collapsed laughing onto the couch.

“Oh my GOD.”

Han grabbed your wrist gently before you could poke him again.

“Soojin.”

“Hm?”

“You need water.”

“You need emotional healing.”

Felix screamed. Hyunjin physically covered his face trying not to laugh. Han looked completely destroyed.

“Okay,” he said immediately. “We’re leaving.”

Eventually, after several failed attempts at getting you into a coat correctly, Han managed to drag you outside into the freezing night air.

Snow fell softly around the empty streets while you stumbled beside him sleepily.

“…I think the ground is moving.”

“That’s because you’re drunk.”

“No I’m not.”

“You tried to fight a lamp post ten minutes ago.”

“It looked judgmental.”

Han laughed despite himself.

Then glanced down when you suddenly grabbed his hand, not dramatically, not romantically even. Just instinctively. Like your drunk brain decided he was safe.

And unfortunately—

that almost killed him.

The walk to your apartment felt impossible in your condition, and Han already knew your mother worked early mornings now.

So instead—

he brought you somewhere else.

His place.

Well.

Technically not really his place.

More like his place.

The abandoned building.

You blinked sleepily while he helped you upstairs carefully.

“…Our haunted building.”

Han smiled softly despite himself.

“Yeah.”

The top floor looked different at night.

Quieter.

Softer beneath snowfall and distant city lights.

Han laid his hoodie down against the wall for you before sitting beside you carefully.

“You okay?”

You nodded slowly while leaning your head against the concrete behind you.

Then after a second—

“…Thank you for taking care of me.”

The sincerity in your drunk voice hit harder than expected. Han looked away quickly.

“You say that like you almost died.”

“I think I spiritually did.”

“You threw up beside a convenience store.”

“Exactly.”

You laughed softly at your own joke. Then your expression shifted slightly. Softer now. Sleepier.

“…You always take care of me.”

Han’s chest tightened painfully. Snow drifted quietly through the broken windows around both of you. And suddenly the space between you felt very small.

Too small.

You looked at him slowly, and Han realized with horror how pretty you were right now. Your eyes heavy with exhaustion, cheeks pink from cold and alcohol, hair messy beneath the city lights.

Dangerous.

Very dangerous.

So naturally—

he panicked and handed you water aggressively.

“Drink.”

You stared at him.

“…You ruined the moment.”

“There was no moment.”

“There was definitely a moment.”

Han ignored the violent beating of his own heart.

Eventually exhaustion won. Your head slowly slipped sideways until it rested against his shoulder. Han immediately froze. You sighed softly in your sleep, curling slightly closer for warmth.

And Han—

Han stopped breathing normally, because this felt way too intimate.

Too soft.

Too important.

But despite every warning sign in his brain—

he didn’t move away, not even a little, not even at all.

Instead, after a long moment, Han carefully rested his head lightly against yours. Snow continued falling outside.

And somewhere between city lights, shared warmth, and sleepy breathing—

both of you accidentally fell asleep together.

Han woke up first.

Which immediately felt like a mistake.

For a few disoriented seconds, he just stared at the gray winter sky visible through the broken wall of the abandoned building, brain moving painfully slow from lack of sleep.

Then he realized two things simultaneously.

One:

His neck hurt horribly.

And two:

Soojin was asleep on him.

Like—

fully asleep on him.

Her head rested against his shoulder, one hand loosely curled into the sleeve of his hoodie like sometime during the night she’d unconsciously decided letting go wasn’t an option.

Han froze completely.

His heartbeat immediately started acting stupid.

Cold morning light spilled softly across the room, illuminating the mess of your hair and the way your lashes rested against your cheeks while you slept.

And unfairly—

you looked cute even while mildly hungover.

Han stared for way too long.

This was bad.

Very bad.

Because somewhere over the past few months, things had shifted so gradually he hadn’t noticed until now.

But this?

This wasn’t just a crush anymore.

Crushes didn’t make your chest ache softly at eight in the morning because a girl trusted you enough to fall asleep against you.

Crushes didn’t make you memorize the sound of someone breathing.

Han looked away quickly before his brain got worse.

Unfortunately—

that’s exactly when you started waking up.

He felt it immediately.

The tiny movement against his shoulder. The way your fingers tightened slightly in his sleeve before your eyes slowly opened.

For a second, you just blinked sleepily.

Disoriented.

Then you realized where you were.

And more importantly—

who you were leaning on.

Your entire body went still.

Han immediately panicked.

“Before you say anything,” he blurted out, “this was your fault.”

You stared at him slowly, still half asleep.

“…What.”

“You got drunk and emotionally attached.”

You frowned slightly.

“…Did we sleep here all night?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

Neither of you moved, which honestly made everything worse.

Because now you were both painfully aware of:

your head on his shoulder

his arm loosely resting near you

your hand still holding his sleeve

the fact that you were way too close

Your heartbeat started speeding up embarrassingly fast.

You quickly pulled away, too quickly.

The cold immediately rushed into the space between you.

“…Sorry,” you mumbled awkwardly.

Han blinked.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s concerning.”

You covered part of your face with your sleeve immediately, because this was humiliating. Your memories from last night slowly started returning too.

The party.

The drinks.

Telling Han he looked pretty.

Oh my God.

Your soul physically attempted to leave your body. You groaned softly and dropped your head into your hands.

“I need to die.”

Han looked alarmed.

“Why.”

You stared at him through your fingers.

“…Did I say weird things yesterday?”

Han immediately looked away.

Suspiciously fast.

Your eyes narrowed.

“…Han.”

“You were drunk.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You tried arguing with a vending machine.”

“That sounds fake.”

“You lost.”

You groaned louder. Han laughed softly beside you.

And unfortunately—

the sound made your stomach flip again.

The two of you sat there awkwardly for another minute while snow drifted softly outside.

Then suddenly Han looked at you carefully.

“…How’s your head?”

You blinked.

“…Hurts.”

“Told you.”

“You let me drink too much.”

“You threatened me emotionally.”

“That sounds fake too.”

Han grinned slightly.

Then after a second, softer—

“You were cute though.”

Your brain stopped functioning immediately.

“…What.”

Han froze too, like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Silence exploded between you instantly.

Oh.

OH NO.

Han recovered first by panicking aggressively.

“I mean—not cute cute. Like. Tiny drunk angry bird cute.”

You stared at him.

“That made it worse.”

“I know.”

Your face felt warm despite the freezing weather.

Han looked equally destroyed now, blond hair messy from sleep while he aggressively avoided eye contact with you.

Neither of you knew what to do with whatever this was becoming, because it was changing. Obviously changing.

Even the air between you felt different now. Softer, closer, dangerous.

Eventually you looked down and noticed something.

Han’s hoodie was pulled over your shoulders.

Again.

You looked at him quietly.

“…Were you cold all night?”

Han shrugged casually.

“You get cold easy.”

Your chest hurt a little, not painfully. Just enough to scare you.

Because no one had ever cared for you this gently before.

Not even in your old life.

Back then people took care of you because they were supposed to, because it was their job, because your family paid them to.

Han did it because he wanted to. And maybe that was the scariest thing of all.

A soft vibration suddenly interrupted the moment.

Your phone.

You checked it quickly.

Three missed calls from your mother.

Your eyes widened.

“Oh my God.”

Han immediately sat up straighter.

“What?”

“It’s ten thirty.”

“…Oh.”

“We slept WAY too long.”

Panic finally replaced awkward tension as both of you scrambled to gather your things. Han nearly slipped on melted snow. You accidentally put your scarf on wrong twice. And somehow the chaos made everything feel normal again.

Almost.

But while walking downstairs beside him afterward, your shoulder brushed his lightly. And neither of you moved away this time.

A few days after the party, things between you and Han became unbearably strange, not bad strange.

Worse.

Soft strange.

The kind where every accidental touch suddenly lasted half a second too long. Where silence didn’t feel awkward anymore. Where both of you kept almost saying something and then immediately ruining the moment with a joke.

It was terrifying.

Especially because neither of you acknowledged it.

Which meant Han coped the only way he knew how:

By emotionally suffering into his notebook.

Tuesday afternoon found him sprawled across the floor of Hyunjin’s room while music played softly from an old speaker nearby.

Felix sat upside down on the bed scrolling through his phone while Changbin aggressively lost a game on Hyunjin’s console.

And Han—

Han stared at his notebook like it personally betrayed him.

Because every single thing he wrote lately somehow became about you. Not intentionally, it just happened.

A line about winter somehow turned into: your hands always shake in the cold.

A lyric about loneliness became: aliens finding home in strange places.

Even buses reminded him of you now. Which was honestly ridiculous.

He sighed loudly and scribbled another line down anyway.

Across the room, Hyunjin glanced over casually.

Then paused.

“…Oh no.”

Han looked up immediately.

“What.”

Hyunjin slowly sat up straighter.

“Jisung.”

“What.”

“…That song is about Soojin.”

Felix looked up instantly.

“WHAT.”

Han nearly dropped the notebook.

“It is NOT.”

Changbin leaned over dramatically from the floor.

“Lemme see.”

Han immediately held the notebook against his chest protectively.

“No.”

“That means yes,” Felix gasped.

“It means privacy!”

Hyunjin stood up and walked over anyway, completely ignoring Han’s protests. Then he looked down at the page, and immediately started laughing.

“Oh my God.”

Han looked horrified.

“Stop reacting like that.”

Felix jumped off the bed dramatically.

“READ IT.”

“No!”

Unfortunately, Hyunjin already had.

He cleared his throat theatrically.

“Snow keeps falling on the bus windows—”

Han lunged for the notebook immediately.

“GIVE IT BACK.”

Felix was already screaming.

“THAT’S LITERALLY THEM.”

“It is NOT.”

“YOU MET HER ON A BUS.”

“That proves nothing!”

Changbin snatched the notebook next. Han looked seconds away from dying.

“Guys seriously.”

Changbin read another line out loud dramatically.

“Aliens only stop feeling lonely once they find another one.”

Silence.

Then Felix slowly looked up.

“…Bro.”

Han covered his face with both hands immediately.

“I hate all of you.”

“That is the most in-love sentence I’ve ever heard.”

“I AM NOT IN LOVE.”

“You wrote about her camera.”

“That could be metaphorical!”

“You wrote about the flea market.”

Han froze.

“…Did I?”

Changbin flipped the notebook around.

“You look happier in secondhand sweaters than designer things.”

The room exploded. Felix physically collapsed onto the floor laughing.

“OH MY GOD.”

Hyunjin looked genuinely delighted for once.

“This is actually embarrassing.”

Han grabbed a pillow and threw it directly at his face.

“SHUT UP.”

But unfortunately—

they kept reading.

The lyrics were unfinished chaos scattered across multiple pages.

Little pieces of you everywhere.

Snow.

Bus rides.

Tiny details no one else would notice.

One lyric simply said:

“Some people lose homes. Some people become them.”

Felix went quiet for a second after reading that. Because okay.

Joking aside—

that one hurt.

Han immediately snatched the notebook back.

“Nobody was supposed to read that.”

Changbin stared at him.

“You’re cooked.”

“Emotionally cooked,” Felix added.

Hyunjin sat back down beside Han calmly.

“So when exactly were you planning on telling her?”

Han looked genuinely alarmed.

“Telling her WHAT.”

“That you’re writing soulmate poetry about her.”

“It’s not soulmate poetry!”

Hyunjin looked at the notebook. Then at him. Then back at the notebook.

“…You compared her to finding home.”

Han opened his mouth.

Then closed it again.

Because unfortunately—

that sounded bad out loud.

The room went quieter afterward. Not teasing anymore. Just observant. because all of them had watched this happen in real time.

Han, who usually ran from emotional vulnerability like it was a burning building, now carried around pages full of lyrics about one girl.

One girl who used to wear Chanel and now took blurry pictures of ramen shops with a secondhand camera.

One girl who looked at him like he mattered.

Felix smiled softly after a while.

“You really like her.”

Han stared down at the notebook in his lap.

At all the messy lyrics and unfinished thoughts spilling across pages.

Then quietly—

“…Yeah.”

The confession sat softly in the room.

Small.

Honest.

Terrifying.

Changbin immediately ruined the moment.

“BRO ADMITTED IT.”

Felix started screaming again, Hyunjin laughed into his sleeve, Han groaned loudly and dropped backward onto the floor.

“Worst mistake of my life.”

But despite his complaining—

he couldn’t stop smiling a little into the sleeve of his hoodie.

[skzficdump]

🖼️gallery recommendations

mdni

☕︎ gallery recommendation 001

↳ identifying who is fucking you

↳ archived by: @ddyskz

↳ exhibit: ot8

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: just the 8 fucking you — honestly what else could i ask for?

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 002

↳ i want it

↳ archived by: @dollracha

↳ exhibit: han jisung

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: very delusional of me but this fic had me staring at the ceiling afterwards

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 003

↳ special chocolate

↳ archived by: @seungfl0wer

↳ exhibit: han jisung

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: anything involving my bias immediately has my full attention

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 004

↳ always watching

↳ archived by: @seungfl0wer

↳ exhibit: lee know

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: lee know being degrading in fics might actually be my weakness

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 005

↳ focus

↳ archived by: @ivyyisbored22

↳ exhibit: bang chan

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: bang chan in this fic permanently altered my brain chemistry

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 006

↳ our toy

↳ archived by: @seungfl0wer

↳ exhibit: ot8

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: the lee know scenes in this one changed me permanently

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 007

↳ shameless

↳ archived by: @elllisaaa

↳ exhibit: jeongin

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: something about the whole “teaching” dynamic makes this ridiculously addictive

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 008

↳ we gotta stay quiet

↳ archived by: @mountquokka

↳ exhibit: han jisung

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: the tension in this fic is actually insane in the best way possible

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 009

↳ is that a bet?

↳ archived by: @krosiefics

↳ exhibit: ot8

↳ themes: mature

♡,curator’s note: at this point my obsession with all 8 members is becoming painfully obvious

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 010

↳ not so pure

↳ archived by: @secretneverland

↳ exhibit: felix

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: the title alone already tells you everything you need to know

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 011

↳ brother’s best friend jeongin

↳ archived by: @luvyeni

↳ exhibit: jeongin

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: clearly i have an unhealthy obsession with jeongin and forbidden dynamics

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 012

↳ girls night

↳ archived by: @kpop---scenarios

↳ exhibit: lee know

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: dominant lee know will always win against me

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 013

↳ maknae on top

↳ archived by: @secretneverland

↳ exhibit: jeongin

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: i warned everyone already — jeongin fics are my downfall

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 014

↳ inexperienced jeongin

↳ archived by: @seungisms

↳ exhibit: jeongin

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: somehow innocent and dangerous at the exact same time

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 015

↳ love you better

↳ archived by: @hyunjincanraptoo

↳ exhibit: han jisung

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: the emotional tension in this fic genuinely hurts in the best way

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 016

↳ changbin sister

↳ archived by: @luvyeni

↳ exhibit: jeongin

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: yes the obsession with members’ sisters continues unapologetically

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 017

↳ accidental pregnancy

↳ archived by: @tangerineastronaut

↳ exhibit: ot8

↳ themes: fake texts, fluff

♡ curator’s note: seungmin’s part felt painfully accurate and that’s exactly why i loved it

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 018

↳ friends with benefits

↳ archived by: @hanjisung-enjoyer

↳ exhibit: seungmin

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: dom!seungmin might actually be one of my favorite fictional genres

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 019

↳ corruption

↳ archived by: @kittysarchive

↳ exhibit: seungmin

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: the corruption trope will always own a part of my soul 𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 020

↳ (happy?) anniversary

↳ archived by: @sunshinesfreckless

↳ exhibit: felix

↳ themes: angst, fluff

♡ curator’s note: beautiful in the most heartbreaking way possible

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 021

↳ apartment #203

↳ archived by: @skzfflovers

↳ exhibit: seungmin

↳ themes: enemies to lovers, mature

♡ curator’s note: enemies to lovers is genuinely one of my biggest weaknesses and this fic proves why

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 022

↳ anything for you

↳ archived by: @secretneverland

↳ exhibit: felix

↳ themes: fluff, mature

♡ curator’s note: i already adore this writer and adding felix into the equation made it even better

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 023

↳ bias wrecker

↳ archived by: @sunshinesfreckless

↳ exhibit: felix

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: felix was dangerously attractive in this fic and i never recovered

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 024

↳ the revenge game

↳ archived by: @sithskz

↳ exhibit: bang chan

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: the slow build of tension in this fic is genuinely insane in the best way

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 025

↳ roommate chronicles

↳ archived by: @helenazbmrskai

↳ exhibit: han jisung x lee know

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: i’m genuinely obsessed with this fic and i don’t think that will ever change

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 026

↳ filthy little secret

↳ archived by: @sunshinesfreckless

↳ exhibit: felix

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: the way felix is written here is so filthy and wrong that i ended up loving every second of it

𓈒 ⠀𓂃 ⠀☕︎ ⠀𓂃 ⠀𓈒

☕︎ gallery recommendation 027

↳ ruined myself for you

↳ archived by: @sourtae

↳ exhibit: hyunjin

↳ themes: mature

♡ curator’s note: the overall atmosphere and tension of this fic completely consumed me

[skzficdump]

Secondhand V

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 2.0. k

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

part I / part II / part III / part IV / part V / part VI

Monday morning, Han knew something was wrong immediately. Not because you said anything. You actually said less than usual. But the second you walked into class, he noticed.

Your movements looked slower. Your face paler. The oversized sweater you wore nearly swallowed you whole while you quietly sat down at your desk without your usual sleepy complaint about Mondays.

Han frowned from across the room.

“Soojin.”

You looked up weakly.

“Hm?”

“…You look dead.”

You blinked at him tiredly.

“Good morning to you too.”

“Seriously.”

“I’m fine.”

Han narrowed his eyes immediately. There it was.

The lie.

You rested your head against your desk afterward, eyes half-closed while the classroom slowly filled with noise around you.

And for some reason—

something about that made Han uneasy.

At lunch, things got worse. You barely touched your food, which honestly scared everyone.

“Soojin refusing food?” Changbin said dramatically. “This is medically concerning.”

You smiled faintly.

“I’m just tired.”

Felix leaned closer immediately.

“Wait no, your face is REALLY warm.”

Before you could react, Felix pressed the back of his hand against your forehead.

His eyes widened.

“Oh my God.”

Han stood up instantly.

“What?”

“She’s burning up.”

You sighed weakly.

“It’s literally just a cold.”

“No,” Han said immediately. “You’re sick sick.”

You rolled your eyes tiredly.

“I’m not dying.”

“You look like you saw heaven for a second.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“Soojin,” Hyunjin interrupted quietly, “your hands are shaking.”

You looked down. And realized they actually were.

Oh.

Maybe you did feel worse than you thought.

But the problem was—

you genuinely didn’t know what to do about it.

In your old life, being sick meant staying in bed while staff brought medicine, soup, tea, humidifiers—anything you needed before you even asked.

Now?

You didn’t even know what medicine to buy.

So naturally, your solution had been pretending nothing was wrong.

Han looked at you for another second, then grabbed his bag.

“We’re leaving.”

You blinked.

“…What?”

“You’re going home.”

“I can survive school.”

“You look seconds away from collapsing.”

“I’m literally sitting.”

“You’re sitting wrong.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

Han ignored you completely.

Ten minutes later, you found yourself being dragged onto a bus while weakly protesting.

“This is kidnapping.”

“This is healthcare.”

“I can walk alone.”

“No you can’t.”

Unfortunately—

he was right.

The world felt weirdly dizzy today.

The bus ride blurred together in warmth and exhaustion, your head resting tiredly against the cold window while Han sat beside you suspiciously watching your condition like an anxious parent.

At one point, your eyes slipped shut briefly.

The next thing you felt was something soft falling over your shoulders.

You opened your eyes slowly.

Han’s hoodie.

You looked at him.

“…Aren’t you cold now?”

He shrugged without looking directly at you.

“You’re shivering.”

Your chest warmed painfully.

The apartment was empty when you arrived, your mother had already left for work.

Han frowned slightly after looking around.

“You gonna be okay alone?”

You nodded automatically.

“Mhm.”

He stared.

Then immediately took his shoes off.

Your eyebrows lifted.

“…What are you doing?”

“Staying.”

“What?”

“You’re sick.”

“You don’t have to—”

“You literally look like Victorian literature right now.”

You laughed weakly despite yourself.

Han moved around your kitchen awkwardly afterward like a confused raccoon.

He opened cabinets dramatically.

“Why do you own nothing.”

“We’re poor now.”

“You have salt and emotional damage in here.”

“That’s enough to survive.”

“No it’s not.”

You sat at the tiny kitchen table wrapped in his hoodie while watching him aggressively attempt to make ramyeon.

And honestly?

It was kind of adorable. Not that you’d ever tell him that. Han squinted suspiciously at the stove.

“Why is it bubbling like that.”

“…Because it’s boiling?”

“That feels aggressive.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“You’re dying.”

“I have a fever.”

“Same thing.”

Eventually he placed the ramyeon in front of you proudly.

It looked—

questionable.

You stared at it carefully.

“…Did you burn noodles?”

Han looked offended.

“Just eat.”

You took one bite.

Paused.

Then looked up slowly.

“This is terrible.”

“I KNOW.”

You burst into tired laughter while Han collapsed dramatically into the chair across from you.

“I tried so hard.”

“You somehow made instant noodles stressful.”

“That takes skill.”

The apartment felt strangely warm with him there. Not physically, emotionally. Like his presence filled all the empty spaces grief had left behind.

Later, after medicine and tea and several arguments about whether or not you needed another blanket, Han forced you into bed.

“Soojin.”

“I’m not five.”

“You’re acting five.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

Unfortunately—

again—

he sounded very confident about that.

You rolled over weakly while Han sat on the floor beside your bed scrolling through music on his phone quietly.

“You don’t have to stay,” you mumbled sleepily.

Han glanced up.

“I know.”

“…Then why are you.”

For a second, he looked strangely caught off guard by the question.

Then softer—

“Because I want to.”

Your heartbeat stumbled weakly against your ribs.

Even through fever, you felt it. The silence afterward felt too warm somehow. Too intimate.

So naturally Han ruined it.

“You also look pathetic right now.”

You groaned into your pillow.

“Get out.”

“No.”

Eventually exhaustion pulled you under completely.

The last thing you remembered was hearing quiet music from Han’s phone and pages turning softly from his notebook.

Hours later, you woke up briefly to darkness outside your window.

Your fever had broken slightly.

The apartment was quiet.

And for one confused second, you thought you’d imagined him. Until you heard soft singing from the living room. You slowly sat up.

Han’s voice drifted quietly through the apartment while he absentmindedly sang to himself, probably thinking you were asleep.

Soft.

Pretty.

Lonely somehow.

You carefully walked toward the living room wrapped in blankets.

And stopped.

Han sat on the couch beneath dim yellow light, your camera in his hands while he flipped through blurry photos from the flea market.

Photos of you laughing.

Looking away shyly.

Holding oversized coats against yourself.

His expression softened at every single one.

Your chest tightened painfully.

Then suddenly he noticed you standing there.

His eyes widened immediately.

“Why are you awake?”

You stared at him sleepily.

“…You stayed.”

Han looked confused.

“Yeah?”

Like it was obvious.

Like there was nowhere else he would’ve gone.

And suddenly, standing there half-asleep in his oversized hoodie—

you realized something terrifying.

Home didn’t feel like a place anymore.

Not the mansion.

Not the apartment.

Not even your old life.

Lately—

home had started feeling a little too much like Han Jisung.

Three days after getting sick, you finally returned to school.

And unfortunately—

you felt different now. Not physically, that part was better.

But something about waking up half-delirious and seeing Han asleep on your couch with your blanket half falling off his shoulders had permanently altered your brain chemistry a little.

Not that you were admitting that to anyone.

Especially not yourself.

Because Han was Han.

Your friend.

Annoying. Loud. Weirdly caring.

And definitely not someone you liked like that.

Probably.

Maybe.

Whatever.

The problem was that now every little thing he did affected you more than it should.

Like the way he automatically grabbed your bag when he thought you looked tired, or how he walked on the outside of the sidewalk near traffic without thinking, or how he always looked for you first when he entered a room.

You tried not to notice these things.

You failed constantly.

That morning, snow covered the school courtyard lightly while students crowded into warm hallways complaining about the cold.

Han arrived late to class with messy blond hair and his hoodie half-zipped as usual.

And unfortunately—

he looked really good today.

Again.

You hated that.

You quickly looked away before he noticed you staring, too late. Han immediately grinned.

“You missed me.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You looked emotionally devastated without me.”

“I was sick.”

“Exactly.”

Before you could argue further, another voice suddenly interrupted.

“Jisung-ah!”

You looked up automatically.

A girl stood near the classroom door smiling brightly.

Pretty.

Very pretty.

Long dark hair, perfect eyeliner, grunge style.

Definitely the kind of girl who looked like she belonged beside someone like Han.

Your stomach twisted strangely. Han blinked in surprise.

“Oh. Hey.”

The girl walked over naturally.

“I texted you yesterday.”

“Oh.” Han scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I forgot to answer.”

“You always forget.”

She laughed while lightly hitting his arm.

And for some reason—

that annoyed you immediately. Which made no sense. Because girls were allowed to touch Han.

Obviously.

He wasn’t yours.

Your brain felt weirdly hostile about that information anyway.

Changbin noticed first. Unfortunately. His eyes flicked toward you briefly. Then toward Han. Then slowly widened with realization.

Oh no.

Meanwhile, the girl kept talking.

“You’re still coming Friday right?”

Han shrugged.

“Probably.”

“You said that last time and then disappeared halfway through.”

“That was one time.”

“It was THREE.”

She laughed again, Han smiled back casually. And suddenly your chest felt tight in a deeply unpleasant way.

You looked down at your notebook immediately.

Why did this bother you?

Seriously.

Han had other friends. Other girls existed. This was normal.

So why did it suddenly feel like someone poured cold water directly into your stomach?

Eventually the girl finally left after ruffling Han’s hair lightly before walking away.

You stared at your desk so hard it almost became personal. Han sat beside you a second later.

“You alive?”

“Mhm.”

He frowned slightly.

“…Why do you sound weird.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I’m literally talking normally.”

Han narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then suddenly leaned closer.

“…Are you mad at me?”

Your head snapped toward him immediately.

“What? No.”

“Then why are you acting like I killed your family.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“Okay but accurate.”

You looked away quickly, because the real answer sounded insane.

Sorry Han, I got irrationally upset because another pretty girl knows you exist.

Absolutely not.

Meanwhile across the classroom—

Felix whispered aggressively toward Changbin.

“Oh my God.”

“I KNOW.”

“She’s jealous.”

“She’s SO jealous.”

Hyunjin glanced up from his sketchbook calmly.

“Took her long enough.”

Back at your desk, Han still looked confused.

“Soojin.”

“What.”

“…Did I do something?”

The genuine concern in his voice made the guilt even worse Because he really had no idea. You sighed softly.

“No. I’m just tired.”

Han studied your face carefully for another second. Like he knew that wasn’t the full truth. But before he could ask further, the teacher entered the classroom.

You spent the rest of the lesson pretending to focus while your thoughts spiraled embarrassingly. This was ridiculous.

You didn’t like Han.

Right?

Sure, he made your heart beat weirdly sometimes. And yes, you thought about him constantly now. And okay maybe seeing him with another girl felt emotionally violent for reasons you didn’t understand.

But that didn’t mean anything.

Probably.

At lunch things somehow became worse.

Because the same girl appeared again, this time outside the cafeteria.

And she hugged Han.

Actually hugged him.

Your entire body froze for half a second.

Han looked surprised but hugged her back casually, like it was normal, like this happened all the time.

You suddenly lost your appetite completely.

“Soojin?” Felix blinked. “You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“You just stabbed your rice really aggressively.”

You looked down.

Oh.

You had been attacking your food like it personally betrayed you.

Across the table, Changbin looked seconds away from laughing himself unconscious. Hyunjin kicked him under the table immediately.

Meanwhile Han returned a minute later looking completely unaware of the emotional destruction happening around him.

He sat beside you automatically.

And smiled slightly.

“She says hi by the way.”

Your eye twitched.

“…Who.”

“Minseo.”

You shrugged casually.

“Oh.”

Han blinked.

“…That sounded rude.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It kinda was.”

You stabbed your rice again. Han stared at you in growing confusion.

Then slowly—

very slowly—

understanding started spreading across his face.

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

Oh.

OH.

A smile started tugging at the corner of his mouth before he quickly hid it. Because surely not.

Right?

Soojin couldn’t possibly be—

No.

Impossible.

Still—

Han suddenly sat a little straighter beside you.

And looked suspiciously happier for the rest of lunch.

[skzficdump]

Secondhand IV

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 2.2 k

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

part I / part II / part III / part IV /part V

By the end of the week—

everything sold.

Every coat.

Every bag.

Every pair of heels.

One by one, pieces of your old life disappeared into the hands of strangers.

And somehow—

you survived it.

Actually, that wasn’t entirely true, some of it hurt. Watching a woman smile excitedly while buying your favorite Chanel coat felt strangely painful. You remembered wearing it in Paris once while your mother took pictures of you outside a café near the Seine.

Now it belonged to someone else.

But at the same time—

every sale meant relief. Money, breathing room, a future.

So by Friday afternoon, you walked into school carrying an envelope full of cash in your bag with a strange mixture of emotions sitting inside your chest.

You found Han near the back staircase half-asleep against the wall with earbuds in. You immediately crouched beside him dramatically.

“I did it.”

Han opened one eye slowly.

“…Did what?”

Without answering, you opened your bag slightly and showed him the thick stack of bills inside. Han stared. Then immediately sat up.

“What the hell?”

You grinned slightly despite yourself.

“I sold almost everything.”

Han looked genuinely horrified.

“Soojin, why are you carrying that around?!”

“…Because it’s mine?”

Before you could react, Han grabbed the envelope and shoved it inside his hoodie immediately.

Your eyes widened.

“Han!”

He looked around suspiciously like you were holding government secrets.

“I don’t know how things worked at your old fancy school,” he whispered aggressively, “but here people rob each other.”

You blinked.

“…Seriously?”

“Yes seriously!”

“That sounds illegal.”

“Because it IS illegal.”

You stared at him while he zipped his hoodie up protectively over your money like a raccoon guarding trash.

And somehow—

you trusted him immediately.

Not even a second of hesitation.

Which honestly should’ve terrified you more than it did.

“You’re weirdly calm about giving me your entire life savings,” Han muttered.

You shrugged softly.

“I trust you.”

Han froze slightly, just for a second. Then immediately looked away.

“…That’s concerning judgment on your part.”

But his voice sounded quieter than usual.

Later that afternoon, while walking home together through freezing streets, Han suddenly looked at you.

“So.”

“So?”

“You sold all your clothes.”

“…Mostly.”

“You realize that’s a problem, right?”

You looked down at your coat.

“…I still have clothes.”

“Soojin, you own like three sweaters now.”

“That’s enough for survival.”

Han looked disgusted.

“No it’s not.”

You laughed softly. Then Han suddenly pointed at you dramatically.

“Tomorrow. Be outside your apartment at noon.”

You blinked.

“…Why?”

“Secret mission.”

“That phrase never ends well with you.”

“You’ll love this one.”

And then he refused to explain further.

Which meant the next morning, you spent almost an hour wondering where exactly Han Jisung was planning to drag you.

You finally stepped outside around noon bundled in the thickest coat you owned now, a knitted beanie pulled over your ears while snow covered the sidewalks lightly.

Han was already waiting outside your building.

And the second he saw you—

he froze.

Your oversized coat made you look smaller somehow, softer. Your cheeks were pink from the cold, scarf half-covering your face while snowflakes clung to your beanie.

Han physically felt something in his chest malfunction.

Oh my God.

Why did you look so cute?

It actually annoyed him.

He immediately looked away before you noticed the complete emotional collapse happening internally.

Meanwhile you frowned slightly.

“…Why are you staring at me?”

Han panicked instantly.

“I’m not.”

“You literally were.”

“No evidence.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. Han shoved his hands deeper into his pockets aggressively. Cute aggression physically coursed through him.

Like he wanted to shake you slightly.

Or bite you.

Or wrap you in seven blankets.

He had no idea what emotion that actually was.

So naturally—

he decided to bully you instead.

“You look like a tiny marshmallow.”

You gasped.

“That was rude!”

“It was accurate.”

You shoved his shoulder lightly while he grinned. Then finally, Han dragged you through crowded streets until you stopped in front of a giant outdoor flea market.

You blinked slowly.

“…What is this.”

Han looked offended.

“This,” he announced dramatically, “is culture.”

You stared at the endless rows of secondhand clothes, vintage booths, random accessories, old records, jewelry, and crowded tables overflowing with things.

People everywhere.

Noise everywhere.

It felt chaotic.

Messy.

And honestly?

A little terrifying.

“…Han.”

“Hm?”

“I think this place violates several safety regulations.”

Han snorted.

“You said you needed clothes.”

“I did.”

“Well.” He spread his arms dramatically toward the market. “Here you can buy a whole new personality for twenty dollars.”

You hesitated slightly. Han noticed immediately.

The discomfort.

The uncertainty.

So his expression softened slightly.

“I know,” he said quieter. “You used to have assistants from… Dolce and Banana or whatever.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“…Dolce & Gabbana.”

“That’s what I said.”

“That is absolutely not what you said.”

Han shrugged.

“Rich people words.”

Despite yourself, you laughed. Then Han pointed proudly at himself.

“Don’t worry. Today I’m your assistant.”

You snorted.

“You?”

“Yes. I have excellent taste.”

“You’re wearing a hoodie with bleach stains.”

“Artistic choice.”

And somehow—

that was enough to relax you.

The two of you wandered through the market for hours afterward.

And slowly—

you started having fun.

Real fun.

Han held up the ugliest sweater imaginable at one point.

“Soojin. This screams your aesthetic.”

“That literally looks possessed.”

“Vintage.”

“That sweater has seen war.”

Han looked offended on behalf of the sweater.

Meanwhile you discovered racks filled with oversized jackets, skirts, sweaters, scarves.

Some pieces were old.

Some weird.

Some surprisingly beautiful.

And for the first time in your life—

you picked clothes because you liked them.

Not because they were expensive, not because your mother approved, not because they matched your family image.

Just because they felt like you.

At one point, you stepped out wearing an oversized brown coat from a tiny changing booth. Han looked up. And immediately forgot how to breathe again. It swallowed you slightly, sleeves covering part of your hands.

You looked warm, soft, comfortable, beautiful.

Han recovered by being annoying.

“You look like an indie film protagonist.”

You smiled shyly despite yourself.

“…Good or bad?”

“Unfortunately good.”

Your chest warmed stupidly at that.

Hours later, you sat on the sidewalk counting your remaining money in shock.

“…I still have more than half left.”

Han looked smug.

“Told you.”

And somehow—

you realized something strange.

You genuinely loved your new clothes.

Maybe even more than your old closet.

Because these felt chosen.

By you.

Not by wealth.

Not by status.

Just you.

As evening settled over the city, Han dragged you into a tiny ramen restaurant tucked between two old buildings.

The place was tiny.

Warm.

Fogged-up windows from the heat inside.

You sat squeezed together in a booth while cheap ramyeon arrived almost immediately.

Months ago, the old version of you probably would’ve thought this place was disgusting.

Now—

it smelled incredible.

Steam curled upward from the broth while warmth slowly returned to your freezing hands. Han immediately started eating like he hadn’t seen food in years.

You laughed softly.

“Slow down.”

“No.”

“You’re gonna choke.”

“That’s future Han’s problem.”

You shook your head while taking your first bite.

And immediately paused.

“…Oh.”

Han looked smug instantly.

“Right?”

“It’s actually really good.”

“I never lie about noodles.”

You smiled softly into your bowl.

Outside, snow continued falling over Seoul. Inside, the tiny restaurant glowed warm around you. Han kept talking between bites, saying ridiculous things that made you laugh harder than they should.

And sitting there across from him—

watching his stupid blond hair fall into his eyes while he smiled at you over cheap ramyeon—

you realized something terrifying.

You couldn’t tell anymore if the world had become more beautiful after losing everything.

Or if it was just Han.

By Sunday afternoon, Han Jisung had made a horrible mistake.

A catastrophic one, actually.

Because apparently spending almost every single day with a pretty girl who laughed at his jokes and looked at him like he mattered had consequences.

And unfortunately—

his friends noticed everything.

“Okay,” Changbin said suddenly.

Han looked up from his notebook suspiciously.

The four boys sat near the river again, cold air drifting around them while Felix attempted—and failed—to skateboard nearby.

“What.”

Changbin narrowed his eyes.

“You like Soojin.”

Han blinked once, then scoffed dramatically.

“What? No.”

Hyunjin looked unimpressed.

“You literally dyed your hair for her.”

“I did not dye my hair for her.”

Felix rolled over dramatically on his skateboard toward them.

“You bought her a birthday present.”

“She was sad!”

“You took her thrifting.”

“She needed clothes!”

“You looked at her yesterday like she invented happiness,” Hyunjin added calmly.

Han stared at him in betrayal.

“What does that even mean?!”

“It means you looked stupid.”

Changbin nodded immediately.

“Very stupid.”

Han looked horrified.

“I do NOT look at her weird.”

All three of them just stared, silently.

Then Felix slowly pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing,” Han asked nervously.

Felix flipped the screen around.

It was a photo from Friday in your apartment.

You sat on the floor laughing while holding up one of the oversized coats from the flea market. Slightly blurry lighting. Snow visible outside your bedroom window.

And in the corner—

Han.

Looking directly at you, not casually, not normally. Like you personally hung the moon.

“Oh,” Felix said.

“Oh my God,” Changbin whispered dramatically.

Hyunjin looked disgustingly entertained.

Han snatched the phone immediately.

“That is NOT what I look like.”

“That is EXACTLY what you look like.”

Han stared at the picture again.

And unfortunately—

they were right.

His expression looked soft in a way he hated, too open, too obvious. Like every thought in his brain was written across his forehead.

He threw the phone back at Felix aggressively.

“You guys are insane.”

Changbin leaned back against the bench with a grin.

“Jisung.”

“What.”

“You’re down horrendous.”

Han looked physically offended.

“No I’m not.”

“You carried her money around in your hoodie like a divorced mother.”

“That was for safety!”

“You literally glare at people who stand too close to her,” Felix added.

Han opened his mouth immediately.

Then paused.

“…That’s normal.”

“It’s not.”

Hyunjin took a drag from his cigarette lazily.

“You know what the funniest part is?”

Han narrowed his eyes.

“What.”

“She has no idea.”

The boys burst into laughter instantly.

Han groaned and covered his face with his hoodie sleeve.

“Shut up.”

Felix looked genuinely emotional.

“She trusts you so much.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It kinda is.”

Han dropped his head back against the bench dramatically.

Because yeah.

That was the problem.

You trusted him, completely. Like it was natural. Like he was safe.

And Han didn’t know what to do with that feeling sitting inside his chest every time you looked at him softly or laughed at something stupid he said.

It wasn’t just attraction anymore.

That part was obvious.

Anyone with functioning eyes could tell he thought you were beautiful.

But it was more than that now.

He liked listening to you talk. Liked when you got passionate about random things. Liked the way you pretended to hate public transportation but secretly stared out bus windows like the city was fascinating. Liked how hard you tried now. How brave you were trying to become despite losing everything.

And maybe the scariest part?

You made him want to be better too.

“Bro is GONE,” Changbin announced dramatically.

Han kicked his shoe lightly.

“Leave me alone.”

Felix suddenly sat up straighter.

“Wait wait wait.”

Han immediately looked suspicious.

“What.”

“When did you realize it?”

“Realize what?”

“That you like her.”

“I DON’T.”

Three unimpressed faces stared back at him.

Han sighed loudly.

“…I don’t know.”

“Liar,” Hyunjin said immediately.

Han frowned.

Then looked down at the notebook in his lap quietly. The pages were filled with unfinished lyrics again. Tiny doodles in the corners. Thoughts he never said out loud.

And annoyingly—

your name kept appearing everywhere recently.

Not intentionally, just accidentally.

Like his brain gravitated toward you without permission.

Eventually, he spoke softer.

“Maybe the bus thing.”

Felix blinked.

“When she thought buses were free?”

Han groaned immediately.

“Okay when you say it out loud it sounds ridiculous.”

Changbin looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“That’s because it IS ridiculous.”

Han ignored him.

“She looked so embarrassed,” he muttered quietly. “Like she thought we were gonna make fun of her or something.”

“You did make fun of her.”

“Affectionately.”

“That’s worse.”

Han smiled faintly despite himself.

Then softer—

“She trusted me really fast.”

The boys went quieter after that, because they understood.

Han didn’t trust people easily either.

Not really.

But somehow you had both slowly handed each other the ugliest parts of yourselves without even noticing.

Your grief.

His loneliness.

Your fear.

His overthinking.

And now the lines between friendship and something else were getting blurrier every day.

Felix suddenly grinned again.

“So when are you gonna kiss her?”

Han nearly choked.

“WHAT?”

Changbin burst into laughter.

Hyunjin actually smiled slightly into his cigarette.

“You’re all disgusting,” Han muttered.

But his face had gone completely red.

And unfortunately—

that answered the question for everyone.

[skzficdump]

Secondhand III

paring: non!idol!han x fem!reade

gender: just a long ass story with some confort and maybe fluff.

You're a teenager (Soojin) from one of the richest families in Korea, but what happens when you lose all your money and a lower-middle-class boy meets you?

word count: 4.8 k

warnings: highschool!au, alcohol, cigarrets

authors note: by far mi favorite chapter. i got some feedback about that felix doesnt look like a lower-middle-class boy who drinks and that stuff, and yeah, you are correct thinking about felix of today, but pls think about all the caracters in his teens, like debut/2019 eras

part I / part II / part III / part IV

Winter arrived earlier than expected that year.

The cold settled into Seoul so suddenly it almost felt personal. One week the trees still carried traces of orange leaves, and the next, the streets looked pale and empty beneath gray skies. The air burned your lungs every morning on the walk to school, and the Han River looked darker now, quieter somehow.

And with winter—

came your birthday.

Eighteen.

The age that used to feel so important.

Back then, birthdays in your family weren’t small events. They were productions. Luxury hotel reservations made months in advance, custom cakes taller than children, expensive dresses imported from Paris “just in case,” photographers following you around all night while your mother smiled proudly beside politicians’ wives and CEOs.

You remembered your sixteenth birthday gift being a Cartier bracelet so expensive you were scared to wear it outside.

For eighteen?

Honestly, your parents probably would’ve bought you an apartment, or a car, or both.

That was your life before.

A life so absurdly luxurious that sometimes it didn’t even feel real when you thought about it now.

But this year—

you woke up to silence, no decorations outside your bedroom door, no bouquet of flowers waiting on the kitchen counter, no flood of birthday texts from friends at midnight. Most of those people didn’t speak to you anymore anyway.

You stared at the cracked ceiling of your tiny room for a long time before finally forcing yourself out of bed.

Eighteen.

It didn’t feel exciting.

It just felt heavy.

The apartment was cold when you stepped into the hallway. You expected the usual silence—your mother asleep in bed after another sleepless night, the television murmuring quietly to itself in the living room.

But instead—

you stopped in the kitchen doorway.

Your mother was awake.

She stood near the counter wearing one of your father’s old sweaters, her hair messy and eyes tired in a way that made your chest ache immediately.

And in her hands—

was a tiny cupcake.

Small, uneven frosting and one crooked candle pushed into the center.

Your throat tightened instantly.

Your mother smiled softly when she noticed you standing there.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

You stared at the cupcake, then at her trembling fingers.

“I know it’s not much,” she said quickly, almost apologetically. “I just… I didn’t want you to wake up with nothing.”

The guilt hit you so hard it almost hurt physically, because months ago, the old version of you probably would’ve thought a cupcake like this was embarrassing. Now it felt like love trying desperately to survive.

You crossed the kitchen in seconds and hugged her tightly before she could apologize again. Your mother held onto you like she was scared you might disappear too.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against your shoulder. “You deserved so much more than this.”

“No,” you whispered back immediately, voice breaking slightly. “This is enough.”

And somehow—

for the first time in a long while—

you meant it.

By the time you got to school, snow had started falling lightly.

Tiny white flakes drifted through the freezing air while students hurried through the gates bundled in scarves and oversized jackets. Nobody knew it was your birthday. Which honestly felt easier, you didn’t want pity, didn’t want awkward sympathy from classmates who already knew your family was ruined.

So you sat through classes quietly, pretending it was just another Thursday.

Meanwhile, somewhere near the teacher’s office, Han Jisung accidentally found out.

“Jisung, can you bring these attendance papers to Mr. Choi?” a staff member asked while handing him a stack of documents.

Han sighed dramatically.

“This school works me like a single father.”

“You’re seventeen.”

“Exactly. Child labor.”

The teacher rolled her eyes while Han grabbed the papers anyway. He dropped them carelessly onto Mr. Choi’s desk before something caught his attention near the top of the pile.

A student information sheet.

Your name.

Soojin.

Han frowned slightly without meaning to. Then his eyes moved lower.

Date of birth.

Today.

His eyebrows lifted immediately.

“…No way.”

For a second, he just stared at the paper quietly, then carefully set it back exactly where it had been.

An hour later, Han disappeared during lunch. Felix looked around the cafeteria with confusion.

“Where’d Jisung go?”

Changbin shrugged while stealing fries off Felix’s tray.

“Probably doing something illegal.”

Honestly?

That sounded accurate.

Because at that exact moment, Han was halfway across town sprinting through a secondhand market near the bus station. Cold air hit his face while he shoved past tiny crowded stalls selling old electronics, records, random jewelry, vintage clothes.

He almost gave up. Then he saw it.

A silver digital camera sitting inside a glass display case.

Older model. A few scratches near the edges.

But still pretty.

Still working.

And immediately, Han remembered your voice from weeks ago near the river.

“I love photography,” you had admitted quietly while watching city lights reflect against the water. “I used to take pictures of everything.”

So before he could overthink it—

he bought it.

By the end of the school day, snow covered the sidewalks lightly.

You were stuffing books into your bag when Han suddenly appeared beside your desk.

“Come with me.”

You blinked up at him.

“Where?”

“Secret.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“It should be.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously but followed him anyway. At this point, going random places with Han had become weirdly normal. The two of you walked through unfamiliar streets while snowflakes melted slowly into his dark hair.

Eventually, he stopped in front of an abandoned building near the edge of the city.

You stared.

“…You brought me to a crime scene.”

“It’s not a crime scene.”

“It literally looks haunted.”

“That’s the aesthetic.”

You followed him upstairs carefully anyway, trying not to slip on broken concrete.

But when you reached the top floor—

your breath caught.

One side of the building had partially collapsed, revealing the entire city below. Seoul glowed beneath the snowy evening sky, lights stretching endlessly into the distance like stars scattered across the ground.

It was beautiful.

Painfully beautiful.

Han watched your expression quietly.

“This is where I come when things get too loud,” he admitted softly.

You looked at him.

The fact that he brought you there made something warm bloom inside your chest.

Snow drifted through the broken walls while silence settled comfortably between you.

It didn’t feel awkward, it felt intimate. Like this moment mattered.

Then Han cleared his throat suddenly, and reached into his backpack.

“I got you something.”

Your eyebrows lifted immediately.

“What?”

He handed you a small paper bag awkwardly without fully meeting your eyes. You opened it slowly.

And froze.

Inside sat the silver digital camera.

Your chest tightened instantly.

“You said once that you liked photography,” Han muttered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “And I saw this today and it reminded me of you.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Nobody had listened to you like that in a very long time, not enough to remember little things.

Your fingers traced the camera carefully like it might disappear if you held it too hard.

“It’s used,” Han added quickly. “But it works. I checked.”

You looked up slowly.

“…You bought this for me?”

Han shrugged.

“It’s your birthday.”

Then finally, softly—

“Happy birthday, Soojin.”

And suddenly—

you felt like crying again.

Because somehow this tiny secondhand camera meant more to you than every luxury gift from your old life combined.

Those gifts had always felt expected, this felt personal, real.

Before you could stop yourself, you stepped forward and hugged him tightly.

Han froze instantly.

Completely.

You could literally feel the shock in the way his body stiffened beneath your arms. Cold air drifted around both of you while your heartbeat pounded painfully against your ribs.

Then slowly—

carefully—

Han hugged you back.

And something shifted.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just quietly enough to terrify both of you a little.

When you finally pulled away, Han looked slightly stunned. His cheeks were pink beneath the cold.

Or maybe not because of the cold at all.

“You’re kinda emotional,” he muttered awkwardly.

You laughed softly despite yourself.

Then lifted the camera carefully.

“Can I take your picture?”

Han blinked.

“…Absolutely not.”

You laughed softly, still holding the little silver camera carefully in your hands.

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll look ugly.”

“You always look like that and somehow survive.”

Han gasped dramatically.

“That was actually evil.”

“It was honest.”

He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously while snow drifted through the broken windows behind him. For a second, neither of you moved. Then you lifted the camera slightly again.

“Please?”

Han groaned loudly.

“You’re using birthday privilege against me.”

“It’s my legal right.”

“That feels fake.”

Still—

he eventually sighed and leaned against the graffiti-covered wall dramatically.

“There. Take your stupid picture.”

You stared at him.

“…That’s your pose?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“You look like a divorced indie musician.”

Han looked offended.

“That’s literally the vibe I was going for.”

You laughed again, a real laugh this time. And Han noticed immediately, his expression softened for just a second before he hid it behind another complaint.

“Can you hurry up? My face is getting tired.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Says the girl who almost cried over public transportation.”

“Han.”

“I’m just saying.”

You rolled your eyes but lifted the camera anyway, the second you looked at him through the tiny screen, something strange happened.

Maybe it was the snow falling softly into his dark hair, or the city lights glowing behind him, or the way he looked at you instead of the camera.

But suddenly—

he looked beautiful.

Not in the polished way boys from your old school used to look, not perfect, not calculated.

Just real.

Warm.

Alive.

Your chest tightened unexpectedly.vHan shifted awkwardly under your silence.

“…Why are you staring at me like that?”

You blinked quickly and pressed the button before you could think too hard about it. The camera flashed softly. Han immediately walked over.

“Lemme see.”

You held the camera protectively against your chest.

“No.”

“Excuse me? That’s literally my face.”

“Exactly.”

Han scoffed dramatically and tried grabbing the camera while you laughed and pulled away from him.

For a few seconds, the two of you stumbled around the abandoned room arguing over the photo like children.

“You probably made me look ugly!”

“You did that yourself!”

“That’s crazy because I’m naturally gorgeous.”

“You’re literally shivering.”

“It’s called suffering artistically.”

You laughed so hard your stomach hurt.

And Han—

Han just stared at you for a second, like he’d never heard that sound before, like maybe he wanted to hear it again. The moment stretched slightly too long.

So naturally, Han ruined it.

“You sound kinda like a dying seal when you laugh.”

You immediately shoved his shoulder.

“Oh my God.”

“WHAT? It’s cute!”

Your heartbeat stumbled weirdly at the word cute. Thankfully, Han looked equally confused after saying it, so both of you pretended it never happened.

Eventually, you sat near the broken windows overlooking the city.

There were two empty window frames without glass, side by side, the cold winter air drifting softly through them.

Han sat on one.

You sat on the other.

Below you, Seoul glittered endlessly beneath the snow.

For a while, neither of you spoke. It wasn’t awkward.

You were starting to realize silence with Han rarely felt awkward.

Then suddenly, you noticed him pulling something from his hoodie pocket.

A lighter.

And a rolled joint.

You blinked in surprise.

“…Wait.”

Han glanced at you.

“What?”

“I thought you didn’t smoke.”

He paused briefly before shrugging.

“This is different.”

“How?”

“I dunno.” He leaned back slightly against the concrete wall. “I only do it when I’m stressed.”

Something about the way he said it made you want to ask questions.

What stresses you out?

Are you okay?

Why do you always joke when things get serious?

But something told you Han wasn’t the type of person who answered those questions honestly, not yet.

So instead you just watched quietly while he lit it. The lighter flickered softly in the cold air.

Then smoke curled slowly upward into the night. Han took one drag before glancing sideways at you.

“You judging me right now?”

“A little.”

“That’s fair.”

You smiled softly.

Then, after a second—

“…Can I try?”

Han looked genuinely shocked.

“You?”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“You look like your body would reject substances on principle.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“That’s rude.”

“It’s accurate.”

Still, after hesitating briefly, he handed it to you carefully.

Your fingers brushed his for half a second, and for some reason, both of you noticed. You tried ignoring the warmth spreading across your face while bringing it to your lips awkwardly.

Han immediately watched you with concern.

“You know how to do it, right?”

“…Obviously.”

You did not.

Two seconds later you started coughing violently. Han burst into laughter so hard he almost dropped the lighter.

“Oh my God.”

You glared at him through watery eyes.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

Unfortunately—

he sounded very confident about that.

Eventually, after recovering, you tried again, this time slower.

Han nodded approvingly.

“Look at you. Corrupting beautifully.”

“That sentence sounded illegal.”

The two of you passed the joint back and forth while snow fell quietly outside.

The city lights blurred softer over time.

Warmer.

At some point your knees started touching lightly where the window frames sat close together. Neither of you moved away.

Conversation drifted naturally after that.

Questions.

Stories.

Little pieces of yourselves exchanged carefully in the dark.

“What did you wanna be when you were little?” Han asked suddenly.

You stared out at the city.

“A photographer.”

He blinked.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“What happened?”

You laughed quietly.

“My parents already planned my whole life before I could.”

Han went quiet at that.

Then softer—

“I think your pictures would’ve been good.”

Something about the sincerity in his voice made your chest ache.

“What about you?” you asked quietly.

Han smiled faintly while looking down at his hands.

“I wanted people to hear me.”

The answer caught you off guard.

Not singer.

Not rapper.

Not famous.

Just—

heard.

You looked at him carefully. And suddenly remembered the lyrics in his notebook again.

Alien.

I don't belong anywhere, I look lonely No matter how much I smile, I feel so lonely

Han glanced at you suddenly and caught you staring.

“What?”

“…Nothing.”

“You’re doing the weird intense eye contact thing again.”

You smiled slightly.

“Maybe you’re just interesting.”

Han stared at you for a second too lon, then quickly looked away first.

And neither of you realized it yet—

but somewhere between shared smoke, city lights, and quiet conversations in abandoned buildings—

this had stopped feeling like just friendship.

Friday morning felt strangely lighter.

Maybe it was the snow.

Or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in months, your birthday hadn’t ended with you crying alone in your room.

You kept thinking about the abandoned building. About Han’s arms around you, about the way he had looked at you when you laughed.

It made your chest feel warm in a way you didn’t entirely understand.

You were still thinking about it when you walked into class and immediately noticed all four boys staring at you.

Suspiciously.

You slowed.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Changbin pointed dramatically.

“HIM.”

Han, who was half-asleep on his desk, looked up immediately.

“What.”

Felix gasped loudly.

“You told us AFTER.”

Han looked offended.

“I found out late!”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“…What’s happening?”

Hyunjin crossed his arms.

“Apparently someone had a birthday yesterday.”

Your face warmed instantly.

“Oh.”

“You didn’t tell us?” Felix looked genuinely betrayed.

“I didn’t think it mattered that much.”

All four of them stared at you like you had said something insane.

“Soojin,” Changbin said slowly. “You’re legally an adult now. That’s kinda important.”

“She can go to prison easier now,” Han added.

You blinked.

“That’s your contribution?”

“I’m educating.”

“You’re not.”

Felix suddenly slammed his hands dramatically onto the desk.

“We need to celebrate.”

“We celebrated yesterday,” you said quickly.

“No,” Felix corrected seriously. “YOU celebrated yesterday. We were not included.”

“That sounds weirdly threatening.”

“It is.”

Before you could argue further, Changbin leaned back in his chair.

“Let’s ditch.”

You blinked.

“…What?”

“School,” Hyunjin clarified lazily.

“I know what ditching means.”

“Then congratulations,” Han said. “You’re learning public school culture.”

You stared at them in disbelief.

“You guys skip school this casually?”

All four looked confused.

“…Yeah?”

Your old school treated absences like corporate scandals. Meanwhile these idiots looked ready to disappear into society permanently for fun.

And somehow—

you found yourself going with them anyway.

An hour later, the five of you wandered through downtown Seoul while snow melted against sidewalks and music played softly from Felix’s phone speaker.

None of you had a plan.

Which seemed normal for them.

At one point Changbin bought bread from a convenience store and called it “group nutrition.” Hyunjin stole half immediately. Han complained dramatically the entire time despite eating most of it himself.

You laughed more than you had in weeks.

Maybe months.

Then suddenly Felix stopped walking.

“Oh my God.”

Everyone looked at him.

“What?” Han asked.

Felix turned toward you dramatically.

“Soojin should dye my hair orange.”

You blinked.

“…Why?”

“Because I think I’d look iconic.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“It’s enough reason.”

You frowned slightly.

“Why don’t you just go to a salon?”

The second the words left your mouth, everyone looked at you.

Not meanly.

Just—

poorly.

You immediately realized your mistake, right, nobody here casually spent money at salons.

Felix looked genuinely horrified.

“Soojin, I have like six dollars.”

Han pointed at Felix’s shoes.

“He literally taped those together last week.”

“They still work!”

You stared at them quietly.

It was still surreal sometimes, realizing how different your lives had always been.

Then Han suddenly grinned.

“Wait.”

You narrowed your eyes immediately.

“That smile means danger.”

“I wanna go blond.”

“…Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because your hair is black.”

“Racist.”

“That’s not— Han, to go blond you’d need bleach.”

“So?”

“So your hair could literally fall out.”

Han gasped dramatically.

“What a quitter mentality.”

“I’m serious!” You laughed despite yourself. “Your scalp could burn.”

Han stared at you for a second, then shrugged carelessly.

“I trust you.”

The words hit strangely hard, not because of what he said.

Because of the way he said it.

Soft.

Automatic.

Like trusting you was the easiest thing in the world. And suddenly the air felt weirdly quiet.

Even Felix noticed.

Han seemed to realize it too because his eyes widened slightly.

Then he immediately pointed at his hair.

“I mean with THIS. The hair. Specifically the hair.”

Changbin snorted loudly.

“Sure.”

“Shut up.”

An hour later, the five of you stood inside your apartment.

It still felt surreal bringing people there, but things had changed recently.

Your mother had started getting better.

Not fully.

Not magically.

But better.

She got out of bed now.

Cleaned the apartment.

Found a small office job nearby.

Sometimes she even smiled again.

The grief still existed.

But now it lived beside survival instead of replacing it completely.

The apartment smelled like detergent and instant coffee when you walked in. Felix immediately dropped onto the couch dramatically.

“This place feels emotionally healthier now.”

“That’s such a weird thing to say,” Hyunjin muttered.

Meanwhile, Han stood in your bathroom staring suspiciously at the bleach kit.

“This feels illegal.”

“It kinda is.”

“You’re comforting me badly.”

You tied an old towel around his shoulders while Felix bounced excitedly beside him.

“I wanna look like a tangerine.”

“You already act like one,” Changbin said.

Felix looked delighted by that.

You mixed the bleach carefully while Han watched you through the mirror.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“No.”

Han stared.

You smiled sweetly.

“I’m kidding.”

“…That wasn’t funny.”

A little while later, the bathroom smelled aggressively chemical while Felix laughed at Han’s horrified expression.

“My scalp feels warm.”

“That’s normal.”

“It feels like death.”

“That’s also normal.”

Han narrowed his eyes at you through the mirror.

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“A little.”

You carefully brushed bleach through his dark hair while everyone argued loudly in the background.

And annoyingly—

your heart kept doing strange things every time Han looked at you.

At one point, your fingers accidentally brushed the back of his neck while adjusting his hair. Han went unusually still for a second. So did you.

Neither of you acknowledged it.

Eventually, while waiting for the bleach to process, everyone migrated into your bedroom.

Hyunjin wandered around absentmindedly while Felix took blurry selfies in the mirror with orange dye processing in his hair.

Then suddenly—

Hyunjin stopped in front of your closet.

“…Wait.”

You looked up from the floor.

“What?”

He slid the door open further, and froze.

Inside, hanging carefully in the back, were pieces of your old life.

Designer coats.

Luxury dresses.

Shoes that cost more than rent.

Not much remained anymore.

Most had been sold already. But enough survived to make the contrast shocking.

Felix blinked slowly.

“…Holy shit.”

Changbin stared openly.

Han looked between the clothes and you quietly. Hyunjin carefully touched the sleeve of one coat.

“This probably costs more than my mom makes in a month.”

Your chest tightened slightly. The room suddenly felt awkward.

You shrugged casually instead.

“I don’t really wear that stuff anymore.”

Hyunjin looked at you.

“Why not?”

You hesitated briefly.

Then softer—

“…It doesn’t feel like me anymore.”

Silence settled for a moment. Not uncomfortable. Just thoughtful.

Then Han suddenly spoke.

“You should sell it.”

You blinked.

“What?”

“That stuff’s expensive, right?”

Felix immediately nodded.

“That coat alone could fund my entire existence.”

Changbin pointed dramatically.

“We could make money.”

“You mean I could make money,” you corrected.

“Communism,” Changbin answered confidently.

You laughed softly despite yourself. Then looked back at the clothes. At the remnants of the girl you used to be.

And for the first time—

they didn’t feel precious anymore.

Just heavy.

An hour later, your bathroom looked like a chemical disaster.

Felix sat cross-legged on the floor with orange hair dye staining one of your old towels while Changbin dramatically complained about the smell.

“It feels like my lungs are melting.”

“You’re not even in the bathroom anymore,” Hyunjin pointed out from your bed.

“That’s how strong it is.”

Meanwhile, Han sat in front of the mirror while you carefully rinsed the last traces of toner from his hair.

“Don’t move,” you warned.

“I literally can’t feel my scalp anymore.”

“That means it worked.”

“That sounds medically incorrect.”

You laughed softly while reaching for another towel.

Then finally—

you stepped back.

“…Okay.”

Han frowned slightly at your expression.

“What?”

You stared at him. And completely forgot how to speak for a second.

Oh.

Oh, that was—

unfair.

The blond hair somehow made everything sharper. His eyes looked darker now, brighter somehow against pale messy strands falling into his face. He looked like every bad decision a girl could possibly make.

And the worst part?

He looked at you immediately for your reaction. Like it mattered.

Your chest tightened annoyingly.

“Well?” Han asked suspiciously.

You blinked quickly.

“…It looks good.”

Good?

That was the best you had?

Meanwhile, behind you—

the others noticed immediately. Felix slowly lowered his phone, Changbin blinked once, then looked between you and Han, then at Hyunjin. Hyunjin looked back at him silently. The entire conversation happened wordlessly.

Oh.

Han and the ex-rich girl.

Interesting.

Neither of you noticed. Because Han was too busy turning toward the mirror. And immediately gasping.

“Oh my God.”

Felix burst into the bathroom dramatically.

“WAIT LET ME SEE.”

The second he saw Han, his jaw dropped.

“Dude.”

Han pointed proudly at himself in the mirror.

“I look emotionally unavailable.”

“You looked emotionally unavailable before,” Changbin said.

“Now I look expensive emotionally unavailable.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. Han looked at you through the mirror and grinned immediately at the sound.

Your stomach flipped again.

Annoying.

Very annoying.

Eventually, after fixing Felix’s bright orange hair too—which somehow suited him disturbingly well—the apartment turned chaotic.

Music played from someone’s phone speaker. Felix insisted on taking photos every three seconds. Changbin kept making fake model poses using your bedroom wall. And Hyunjin had somehow stolen your camera already.

“Wait,” you complained. “That’s mine.”

“Correction,” Hyunjin answered calmly while taking another blurry picture of Han. “It’s art now.”

Han immediately covered his face.

“Delete that.”

“Never.”

The room filled with laughter again.

And for a second—

you forgot your apartment used to feel suffocating.

Forgot your father was in prison.

Forgot everything, really.

Then eventually, the conversation drifted back toward your closet.

Toward the clothes.

The remains of your old life hanging silently behind those doors. Felix opened it dramatically again.

“Okay,” he announced. “Let’s see what rich people wear.”

“Don’t touch anything with your orange hands,” you warned immediately.

“Wow. Classism.”

Still, everyone slowly started pulling things out carefully.

A black Chanel coat.

A white Dior dress still inside its garment bag.

A pair of Versace heels.

A leather Givenchy bag.

Felix looked genuinely overwhelmed.

“You owned this many expensive things?”

You shrugged slightly while sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“This isn’t even that much.”

Four heads snapped toward you immediately.

“Soojin,” Changbin said slowly. “This coat probably costs my entire bloodline.”

You laughed softly. Then Hyunjin searched one of the items online.

And immediately went silent.

“…What the hell?”

Felix leaned over dramatically.

“How much?”

Hyunjin turned the screen toward everyone.

“This Chanel coat retailed for almost eight thousand dollars.”

The room exploded.

“EIGHT THOUSAND?”

“FOR FABRIC?”

“Soojin, are you insane?”

You blinked.

“…That’s normal for Chanel.”

Changbin looked physically distressed.

“That sentence just gave me chest pain.”

Felix grabbed another bag immediately.

“What about this one?”

You glanced at it casually.

“Oh. That’s Dior.”

Hyunjin searched again.

Then slowly looked up.

“…Three thousand five hundred dollars.”

Felix dropped the bag onto the bed like it burned him.

“NO.”

You started laughing harder. Han watched you quietly from the floor beside your bed.

Not the clothes.

You.

Like seeing you laugh like this fascinated him.

Meanwhile Changbin continued spiraling.

“You used to spend people’s rent money on purses.”

“It wasn’t my money technically.”

“That somehow made it worse.”

You smiled faintly.

Then softer—

“And this isn’t even the expensive stuff.”

Everyone paused. You looked down at your hands briefly.

“The first things we had to sell were the jewelry pieces. Watches too.” You shrugged lightly like it didn’t matter anymore. “Some of my mom’s necklaces were worth more than cars.”

Silence settled briefly, not judgmental, just stunned.

Because your old life sounded unreal to them, like something from television.

Then Han leaned back against your bed casually.

“You miss it?”

The question surprised you.

You thought about it honestly.

The clothes.

The brands.

The luxury.

The version of yourself attached to those things.

Then you looked around your tiny room.

At Felix taking blurry selfies.

At Changbin dramatically googling “how much is rich people shampoo.”

At Hyunjin quietly folding expensive coats with unexpected care.

At Han sitting beside you with messy blond hair you accidentally kept staring at too much.

And somehow—

you realized the answer wasn’t simple anymore.

“…Sometimes,” you admitted quietly.

Then softer—

“But not as much as I thought I would.”

Han looked at you for a second too long after that. Then quickly looked away first.

Eventually, the five of you turned your bedroom into a makeshift online store.

Photos everywhere.

Price research.

Arguments over captions.

Felix insisted on modeling half the clothes despite none of them fitting him correctly.

“This is fashion,” he defended while wearing an oversized Chanel coat dramatically.

“That is theft,” Hyunjin answered.

You sat beside Han on the floor uploading listings online.

One by one, pieces of your old life disappeared onto the screen.

Chanel wool coat — $6,200 Dior handbag — $3,400 Givenchy boots — $1,800 Versace heels — $2,100

Felix stared at the totals in horror.

“I could survive three years on one coat.”

“That’s dramatic,” you muttered.

“SHE SAYS THAT LIKE IT’S NORMAL.”

Han laughed softly beside you. Then suddenly leaned closer to look at your laptop screen. Close enough that your shoulders touched lightly.

Neither of you moved away.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

You looked at the listings again.

At the designer logos.

At the girl you used to be slowly disappearing piece by piece.

And strangely—

it didn’t hurt as much anymore.

Not when you were surrounded by people who made your tiny apartment feel warm again.

So you looked at Han.

At his stupidly pretty blond hair.

And smiled softly.

“…Yeah.”

And this time—

you actually meant it.