𝓐 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝓢𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓜𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓪 𝓐𝓤 ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀʟʏ ɪɴꜱᴛᴀɢʀᴀᴍ, ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇ ᴛᴇxᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴡɪᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ʟʟ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ʙᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴄʜᴀᴘꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ Bangchan was the leader of a Kpop and producing group under the name 3RACHA. The group was known for its originality and how hard they worked, producing not only their own songs but also songs for other artists. Minho, however, was a well known choreographer. He was respected and known by many for his fantastic dancing skills and the energy and thought he put into his choreographies. Minho choreographed songs for many kpop- and also worldwide groups. But there was something no one knew about Minho. He was secretly an enormous simp for none other than Bang Christopher Chan. He even had a fan account with tens- nearly hundreds of thousands followers. So yes, maybe Minho was whipped. But who said Chan wasn't also? #8 in Minchan 11/11/2025 Started: 20/09/2025 Ended: - 11/07/2026

Korea's Youngest CEO-sharp suit, sharper gaze. The University's Doll-too pretty, too elegant to be real. --- "Look at me," Minho murmured. Jisung didn't. "Jisung..." Still nothing. "Doll, look at me... please." And that was it-the nickname slipped past his defenses, pulling his gaze upward until their eyes finally met. Every pout, every glance, every whispered word-Minho was already undone. Every smile, every touch, every unspoken promise-Jisung found himself falling deeper

Minho on the outside was a charismatic idol who captured the hearts of thousands of fans all over the world but on the inside hid dark secrets. Jisung was a sweet boy who had just graduated college and was desperately trying to find a job to support himself and his sister. When he found out JYP was hiring, he decided to sign up and miraculously got the job of a manager--for none other than the superstar Minho himself. Minho is extremely reluctant to have Jisung as his manager and Jisung has no idea why. Maybe Minho just didn't want someone watching him all the time. Maybe Minho was scared Jisung would uncover his secrets. Or maybe it was because Minho was afraid he might get too close to Jisung--close enough to put his entire career at risk.

Han Jisung seems like the perfect student-quiet, intelligent, and always on time. But behind his calm exterior, he's struggling with anxiety that no one notices. Lee Minho is loud, confident, and sharp-tongued, masking his own struggles with sarcasm and distance. They share the same space but never really see each other-Minho doesn't understand Jisung, and Jisung keeps his pain hidden. Yet, sometimes the people who seem the most different are the ones who see you the clearest. What happens when walls start to crumble, and masks begin to fall?

Jisung: I was taught to love without limits. Minho: I was taught to love to the limits. They were just supposed to dance. But between late-night practices, quiet laughter, and the kind of trust that feels like gravity-something changed. He wasn't supposed to fall. He did anyway.

Han Jisung had always lived in the quiet. With music as his only refuge, he drowns in melodies to escape the loneliness that clings onto him like a second skin. Despite having some friends, something is missing. Someone is missing. A presence he's only ever imagined. Then a message changes everything. A stranger named Minho bursts into Han's life with relentless energy and a strange request: "Give me a month." Minho is everything Han isn't-loud, fearless, impossible to ignore. What starts as an unexpected arrangement turns into late-night talks, quiet mornings, and a connection that feels like it was always meant to be. But a month has an expiration date. And when the clock runs out, Han is left with the question he's too afraid to ask: Was Minho ever his to keep?

Love at first sight was a myth to Lee Minho. Attraction, maybe. Curiosity, sure. But love? Never. Then Han Jisung walked through the university gates-small, shy, eyes lowered -and Minho found himself falling head over heels without meaning to. Minho's world softened in ways he never expected. Jisung doesn't try to be noticed. He prefers empty seats, quiet corners, and staying invisible. Minho notices anyway. Jisung prefers silence and solitude. Minho prefers walking beside him. A gentle university love story filled with rainy days, shared umbrellas, and feelings too tender to be spoken aloud. 🏆 #5 In #Stay

Han Jisung has always been told he looks unreal-too perfect, too fragile, too much like a doll. He never thought those words would become dangerous. One harmless dare at a museum changes everything. Mistaken for something he isn't, Jisung crosses paths with Lee Minho-a man whose world is built on power, control, and shadows. One glance is enough. One moment is all it takes. From that day on, Jisung's life is no longer his own. Watched. Followed. Remembered. What started as a misunderstanding turns into something far more intense, far more terrifying-and far more complicated. Because when obsession meets innocence, there is no such thing as coincidence. And some eyes... never forget what they've seen.

Han Jisung loves pink, oversized shirts, and everything soft and sparkly. He loves BL manhwa. He loves being spoiled. But there's one thing he will never, ever do: be someone's housewife. Enter Lee Minho. Calm. Handsome. Rich enough to buy the world. And apparently... convinced that Jisung should welcome him home like the perfect little spouse. Jisung refuses. He rebels. He hides, he sleeps early, he eats cheesecake while ignoring instructions... Basically, he does everything to drive Minho insane. Minho? Calm as ever. Gentle. Patient. Unshakable. And for some reason, every gift, every flower, every quiet apology makes Jisung want to scream-and maybe, just maybe... feel something he didn't expect. He's not Minho's housewife. Not even close. ...but being married to a CEO might be messier-and sweeter-than he ever imagined.

*A HYUNLIX FANFICTION* Everyone sees sunshine boy Felix. Only the underground sees fire Felix. Hyunjin? He gets both - and he doesn't know what to do with it. Warning ⚠️: Mention of Almost Rape and Intimate Scenes.