#Signage for Hotel

[rn-deliabusby]

flickr

[damn-these-eyes]

hotel

[hotelsociety]

Dinah the Pink Dinosaur once held the sign for the Dine-A-Ville Motel in Vernal, Utah.

She's still there, but the motel didn't make it. The 4,200 pound fiberglass statue was moved to a park where it now holds a sign welcoming visitor's to "Vernal—Utah's Dinosaur Land."

[archiveofaffinities]

The Moulin Rouge, Las Vegas, Nevada, 1955

[droodlebug]

dragoncon fumbled their expectations to how big bg3 and people in america wanting to meet the uk actors reallllly bad so the room for dnd is tiny. but my sibling and i got here like 3 hours early and got up front (and surprisingly i got to pick first bc of my wheelchair lmao). (im the glasses guy w wyll themed bracelets i made myself)

it starts in an hour. they loaded us in the room two hours early bc of the line already up which Never Happens Ever

[eldritchmochi]

i have been in boston for five days and ive absolutely Nothing nice to say about it. west coast continues to be best coast if only because you dont need 200 years of lore to navigate the transit system

[engagisau]

How Digital Signage is Transforming the Hospitality Experience in 2025

In 2025, digital signage is common in hotels, cafes, and restaurants to enhance the customer experience beyond their wildest dreams. Hospitality digital signage is re-defining how businesses communicate with their guests—with digital menus, with screens that greet guests, and so on—and how guests feel when they walk in. Here is an example of one area in which smart technology is making a great difference in hospitality.

What Is Digital Signage?

Digital signage includes digital screens like TVs, LED screens for displaying artworks, promotions, announcements. They can be located in hotel lobbies, cafes, and restaurants.

Instead of getting their hands on new posters or menu cards, they allow the business to go online with any announcements about offerings, greetings for a special guest, or important information about events. 

Ways Digital Signage is Improving Hospitality 

1. A Friendlier Welcome for Guests

First impressions matter! Nowadays, most hotels welcome their guests with an introductory message with weather information, local news, or even a friendly greeting that includes the guest's name down on digital signage. This little bit of something goes a long way in making guests feel appreciated and comfortable. 

2. Ordering Made Easy by Digital Menus

In restaurants and cafés, digital menu boards are progressively replacing printed menus and keeping things simple. They show menu items, prices, photos, and even videos of the food. Should there be a new dish, a special of the day, or less an extra charge for a bit, the staff will be able to update the screen in an instant—ie. no need to reprint menus.

This speeds up customer decisions about what to order, and allows businesses to advertise for those items they wish to sell more of, or are seasonal.

3. Real-Time Information for Guests

In hotels, digital signage is used to share real-time information such as:

Event schedules

Check-in or check-out instructions

Spa or restaurant hours

Emergency alerts

This keeps guests informed without having to ask at the front desk. It also helps staff save time and focus on providing better service.

4. Promoting Offers and Events

Digital signage in hospitality is also great for marketing. A hotel can show promotions for their In the realm of marketing, digital hospitality signage is pretty useful. A hotel might want to promote their restaurant, a hotel spa, or nearby tours. A café will promote happy hour or their loyalty card scheme. 

Since the content can be updated at any moment, the businesses might try out different types of promotion to see which works best—no need to actually print anything. 

5. Entertain While Guests Queue Up

Nobody seems to like waiting, particularly in a large lobby of a hotel or a restaurant queue. Digital signage, on the other hand, can make a quick change to entertain them!

Screens can show:

Travel tips

Local weather or news

Fun facts about the area

Images With Pleasant Ambient Music or Videos

This helps reduce boredom and improves the overall guest experience.

In the realm of marketing, digital hospitality signage is pretty useful. A hotel might want to promote their restaurant, a hotel spa, or nearby tours. A café will promote happy hour or their loyalty card scheme. 

Since the content can be updated at any moment, the businesses might try out different types of promotion to see which works best—no need to actually print anything. 

6. Saves Time, Money & Effort

Another great aspect of digital signage is that they are easy to update. It could be the prices that need to be changed. Or maybe there is a weekend special to be promoted, or a guest speaker at an event needs to be highlighted. All can be done in just a few clicks.

This money would have gone to printing and perhaps the human hours that could have been better spent by the team, for example, on guest services. 

Conclusion

Digital signage in a hospitality setting involves more than just screens; it's a way to outsmart and capture targeted customers. There are more excellent services in store for digital signage, implying that the service must be delivered faster, clearly, and with warmth toward guests-auto, a hotel, restaurant, or cafe. 

Therefore, if you are in the hospitality business and wish to enhance the customer experience, the time for going digital might be at hand. Ready To Transform Your Venue with Digital Signage?Engagis strives to enhance the quality and atmosphere of any hotel, cafe, or restaurant. As a leading supplier of digital signage for the hospitality industry, Engagis implements smart and reliable solutions designed for your needs-from digital menu boards to fully integrated guest communications systems.

[thistimeischittychitty]

St. Charles Hotel turned Fox Brewery in downtown Carson City, NV

[recognitionexpress]

[stochastique-blog]

Tell me what you want ! What you really really want

Signs (No. 39)

South Beach Plaza Villas, Miami Beach

The Shepley Hotel,

The Webster,

Fairwind Hotel,

Hotel Shelley,

Whitelaw Hotel,

Empire Condo Suites,

Century South Beach LLC,

Majestic Hotel South Beach,

Beacon South Beach,

[damn-these-eyes]

home of the first Oscars

[scalaindia]

How Digital Signage Software is Revolutionizing Singapore’s Hospitality Industry

The hospitality industry thrives on delivering exceptional guest experiences. In Singapore, where the hospitality sector is both vibrant and competitive, digital signage software is becoming an essential tool for enhancing these experiences.

Digital Signage Software in Hospitality

Here’s how digital signage software is revolutionizing the hospitality industry:

Personalized Guest Experiences: Offer personalized greetings and tailored recommendations.

Interactive Wayfinding: Help guests navigate large hotels or resorts with ease.

Event Management: Display event schedules, directions, and updates in real-time.

Key Benefits:

Enhanced Guest Satisfaction: Keep guests informed and entertained.

Operational Efficiency: Streamline communication and reduce staff workload.

Brand Reinforcement: Use digital signage to showcase your brand’s story and values.

Conclusion

Digital signage software is playing a crucial role in elevating guest experiences in Singapore’s hospitality industry. To learn more about how this technology is transforming businesses, check out this blog: What is Digital Signage Software? How is it Transforming Businesses in Singapore?.

[crowntv]

Digital Signage for Hotel

CrownTV offers cutting-edge digital signage solutions for the hotel industry. Elevate guest experiences with dynamic displays, customized content, and seamless management. Enhance communication, brand visibility, and engagement through CrownTV's innovative technology. Visit us.

[bettelaboure]

⊹You want to watch, then watch⊹ Choi Seung-Hyun

Another draft, but this time it's about our dear T.O.P., but the catch is that he is not so dear in this one. To be warned: IT IS SMUTTY. Good luck, have fun 🤍

The Tokyo skyline pulsed outside the glass walls of the hotel, smeared in neon pinks and electric whites. It had just rained. The concrete below still glittered with reflections of signage, headlights, and a million quiet stories. Yours, unfortunately, wasn’t one of the quiet ones.

The show had ended only two hours ago. You'd performed like a flame — fierce, controlled, devastating. The crowd roared for you as much as they did for the headliners. And you knew, because he watched from the wings, sunglasses low on his nose despite being indoors.

Choi Seung-Hyun.

Even his name made your teeth grind. His cologne hit you like a slap every time he walked by in a hallway. It was absurd how expensive he smelled. Leather and oud and something darker underneath — like secrets and broken promises. Like that night in 2014.

That goddamn night.

You hadn't meant to drink that much. Neither had he. The MAMA afterparty had been a blur of flashing cameras and too-loud basslines. But his smile—when he leaned in close, whispering promises

about Paris and puppies and how he'd always had a thing for you—had felt dangerously real. His hands had been warm on your thighs. His lips had pressed against your collarbone like he was praying.

And then morning came. And he didn’t.

You opened your eyes to cold sheets and silence. No note. No call. Just that same cologne lingering on your skin like mockery.

Since then, every encounter was war.

"Don’t forget to button your shirt all the way up this time, Seung-Hyun," you had hissed on the set of his latest MV. "Wouldn’t want the stylists to catch another case of whatever you’re spreading."

He had only grinned, adjusting his cufflinks with infuriating calm. "Still watching, huh? Can’t take your eyes off me. It’s sweet, really."

But tonight, something had cracked.

You pushed through the hotel lobby, makeup barely cleaned off, your oversized hoodie swallowing your frame. Your boots clicked with determined rhythm. You just needed sleep. No run-ins. No battles.

"Going somewhere, kitten?"

His voice. That low, unhurried drawl. You froze.

Choi Seung-Hyun leaned against the marble pillar like he belonged there, arms crossed, sharp in black slacks and a thin, almost indecently tight sweater. Rain misted in his hair, making him look too cinematic for someone so thoroughly detestable.

You turned. "Don’t you have someone else to fuck with? Or did your latest toy get tired of malfunctioning?"

He pushed off the wall with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "Maybe. But none of them hate me quite the way you do. It’s special."

You scoffed and kept walking. The elevator ride up was torture. You felt him behind you. Not too close. Not far enough. The tension coiled thick in the silence. When you stepped out on your floor, he followed.

"You're pathetic."

"You're impossible."

Your room clicked open, and you swung the door wide. "Leave."

He didn’t move.

You exhaled sharply and stepped inside, shedding your hoodie, letting it drop to the floor. Beneath it, just a thin tank and cotton shorts. No bra. You could feel his gaze heat your back.

"Leave." You gave him a warning, but he didn't move. "Fine."

"I had a horrible day, Seung-Hyun. If you want to watch, then watch."

He said nothing. Just leaned against the doorframe, shadows pooling around him.

You walked to the bed, slow, deliberate. There was a drawer on your bedside table. You opened it, fingers brushing familiar shapes, cool against your skin.

You didn’t look at him. Not yet. Just laid back against the pillows, the soft click of plastic breaking the silence. Your legs parted slowly. One hand on your chest, the other sliding south.

Finally, your eyes found his.

His jaw was clenched. Hands curled into fists. But he didn’t look away.

Not once.

And you smiled.

Because this time, you left him wanting.

The room was dim, lit only by the city lights bleeding in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Shadows spilled over your body as you sprawled on the bed, legs loose and bent at the knees. Your fingers ghosted under the waistband of your panties, just enough to tease, just enough to test him.

Seung-Hyun didn’t speak. He leaned back against the wall, one shoulder pressed against it, arms folded. His eyes tracked every movement. Like a predator calculating. Like a man trying very hard not to step into fire.

You slid your fingers lower, beneath the cotton, gasping just a little when they met slick heat. You arched your back, hips rolling lazily, provocatively. Every nerve sang with tension — not just from touch, but from the way he watched. As if he couldn’t decide whether to devour you or beg.

"I bet you thought I’d cry over you," you murmured, not looking at him this time. Your voice was low, breathy. A taunt. A truth. "Thought I’d pine."

He didn’t answer. His silence was a scream.

Your free hand slipped your tank top up, exposing the curve of one breast. You didn’t stop. Two fingers circled your nipple, lazily, a show of indifference you didn’t feel. You were burning. But so was he.

You slid the toy against yourself now, dragging it slow, unforgiving, letting your breath stutter. The sound was obscene in the quiet: wet and aching. You spread wider, letting the cool air kiss your thighs, knowing it would drive him insane.

"You could’ve had this," you whispered. Your voice cracked on the edge of a moan. "You had it, remember?"

Still nothing from him. But you saw the way his chest moved, how tightly he was gripping his own arms, how his jaw was twitching.

"You begged for it. Said stupid shit about Paris. Said you liked me."

His hands dropped.

One slow step forward. Then another.

You didn’t stop. You let the toy sink in deeper, your back arching hard against the bed as pleasure bloomed sharp and fast. You whimpered, let your thighs tremble, your breath ragged.

"Keep watching, Seung-Hyun," you gasped. "Since that’s all you’re good at."

He stood over you now. Looming. Silent.

Then, voice low and broken, he said, "You're cruel."

Your eyes flicked up. There it was.

The edge.

"And you're a coward."

His hands moved at last. Slow. He reached for your wrist, stopping the toy. You didn’t flinch. Didn’t resist.

His fingers closed around yours, steady but firm, guiding your hand away. You let him take it. Watched as he knelt at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on yours. For a second, he just stared at the toy in his hand, jaw tense, lips parted like he was tasting the moment.

Then he pressed it against you.

You gasped, hips jerking up instinctively. The sensation was different now — sharper, somehow deeper. Not just from the pressure, but from him. From knowing he was the one holding it. The air shifted between you, heavy with something raw and dark and aching.

He watched your face, not your body. Eyes locked to yours like he was reading every flicker, every twitch of want and pain and power.

"You wanted control," he murmured, voice gravel-rough. "But this... this isn't control. This is surrender."

You opened your mouth to fire back, to deny it, to insult him again — but your words dissolved into a moan as he tilted the toy just right.

"Still gonna talk?" he whispered, his lips brushing your knee as he trailed slow kisses up your thigh. "Or are you finally out of smart little things to say?"

You tried to glare, but the pleasure ripped through you again, stealing your focus. His mouth was everywhere — kissing, biting softly, nipping at the inside of your thighs with maddening precision. When he finally reached the edge of your panties, he paused, teasing you with his breath.

"So wet," he muttered, eyes dark, pupils blown. "You act like you hate me, but your body... she remembers."

He traced the toy in slow, taunting circles. You bit your lip to hold in a cry, but he saw it. He smirked.

"Don't hold back now," he said, voice thick with heat. "I want to hear you. Every. Damn. Sound."

The toy moved again — firmer, deeper — and then his fingers joined it, circling on your clit alongside in perfect rhythm. You shattered, hips lifting off the bed, breath caught in your throat as his name tore out of your mouth like a curse and a prayer all at once.

He didn’t stop.

"That's it," he breathed against your skin. "That's mine. You can pretend all you want. But right now, here, you belong to me."

And for a moment — a long, trembling, dangerous moment — you did.

Your breathing hadn’t even steadied when he rose from between your thighs, slow and deliberate, his gaze hooded and wild. His hand dragged the toy across your inner thigh before tossing it aside carelessly, as though it had served its purpose and now he was ready for something far more personal.

You barely had time to react before his mouth was on yours — not soft, not tentative, but consuming. All tongue and teeth and resentment. You tasted the edge of something savage, something restrained for too long.

“I’m not done,” he growled against your lips.

You could only nod, the sound catching in your throat as he yanked the tank top over your head, exposing you fully to his gaze. His hands palmed your breasts roughly, thumbs brushing across your nipples with maddening friction.

“You think you’re in control?” he hissed, trailing kisses along your jaw, nipping just hard enough to leave a mark. “You’ve been playing games for months. You wanted to break me?”

His teeth scraped your neck. You gasped.

“Well, sweetheart… I’m already broken.”

His words hit something deep inside you, but you didn’t have time to process it. He pushed your thighs apart again, crawling over you with a predator’s grace. The way he looked at you — like he hated how much he wanted you — sent heat rushing down your spine.

You tried to pull him down, to kiss him again, but he gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head.

“Not yet,” he said. “You don’t get to pretend this doesn’t mean anything.”

“I don’t pretend,” you snapped.

“You do. Every time you look at me like you’d rather slit my throat than kiss me.” He kissed you hard then, punishing. “But you keep coming back to the fire.”

His free hand slid between your legs again, two fingers sinking inside you with maddening ease. Your head tipped back, a cry escaping your lips. He kept the rhythm slow, deliberate, like he was claiming you again — inch by inch.

“You hate me,” he whispered against your neck. “But this? This doesn’t lie.”

His fingers curled just right and your body betrayed you, clenching around him, heat surging like a second wave.

“And you,” you gasped, teeth bared, “you think you’re not still a coward hiding behind your smirk?”

He froze.

Then laughed — low, bitter, wrecked.

“Maybe I am. But I still make you fall apart. Don’t I?”

He kissed you again, softer this time, almost reverent. His fingers didn’t stop moving, but the rage dulled, turning molten, tender in its own brutal way.

“I should’ve stayed,” he admitted into your mouth.

You went still. The rhythm stuttered.

“I know,” you whispered. And for the first time all night, your voice wasn’t laced with venom. Just honesty. Raw and aching.

He released your wrists. You curled your fingers around his jaw, pulled him down. Kissed him like you wanted to erase the years in between.

And this time, when he moved against you, skin to skin, chest to chest — there was no toy, no teasing. Just him. All of him.

No pretending.

Only fire.

Only need.

He was rough — not out of cruelty, but desperation. He grabbed your hips hard, dragging you to the edge of the bed. His belt hit the floor with a dull thud, jeans shoved down just far enough. You didn’t look away. Didn’t blink. Dared him.

And he delivered.

He filled you in one stroke, deep and jarring, making your breath hitch and your nails dig into his back. He didn’t give you time to adjust — didn’t want to. You didn’t want him to. This wasn’t about slow.

It was about punishment.

It was about payback.

He moved with sharp, angry thrusts, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the hotel room. You met every one with equal force, dragging your teeth along his shoulder, biting down just enough to make him groan.

“Harder,” you spat, voice hoarse. “Don’t hold back.”

“Not planning to.” He grabbed your leg, threw it over his shoulder, angling deeper, rougher, until your back arched off the bed.

Your moans were ragged, breathless — each one a curse and a confession.

“You still think you’re in charge?” he growled.

“Still think you matter?” you hissed.

He slammed into you in response.

It was chaos — beautiful, filthy chaos. Hands tangled in sheets, mouths biting, nails scraping across skin. At one point he flipped you onto your stomach, hand pressing your back down, thrusts merciless and relentless. Your cheek pressed into the pillow as you cried out, equal parts pain and ecstasy.

When he pulled you back up, chest against your back, lips at your ear, he whispered, "Say it."

You shook your head, defiant even now.

“Say you missed me.”

You turned your head just enough to sneer, “I missed hating you.”

His hand closed around your throat — not choking, just holding — reminding you how utterly he had you.

“Liar,” he whispered.

And you shattered for him, again.

You collapsed together after, bodies sticky, breaths ragged, his weight warm and heavy on top of you. Neither of you spoke for a long time.

But even in the silence, it lingered.

The truth.

The heat.

And the beginning of something that neither of you would dare name.

[writeonwhiskey]

summer in seoul: ch 12

a/n: sorry this took a little while! enjoy! word count: 3.8k

After a quick breakfast, Felix, Han, Lee Know and Jeongin are leading you out of the building. You all quickly duck inside the waiting car, and it takes off without them mentioning the destination at all.

You glance around at them, trying not to feel out of place, and take in how they’re dressed—caps pulled low, sunglasses, face masks. It reminds you of how Chris always dresses when you’re out in public together.

You now know the reason behind it. But they don’t know you’re in on the secret yet, which only makes the whole group cosplay even funnier.

“You all feeling under the weather or something?” you ask innocently.

They exchange a quick look.

“Just…sensitive to sunlight,” Felix mutters, tugging his bucket hat lower.

“Seasonal allergies,” Han adds with a sniff for emphasis.

“I have pimple,” Jeongin says.

Lee Know just shrugs.

You bite back a smile. “Right.”

You let them off easy, leaning back into the seat. Throughout the ride, Felix talks to you the most—he seems to take you under his wing, knowing it’s easier for you to communicate with him—but the others do their best to make you feel included, too.

“You guys going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

“It’s a secret,” Han says.

“You’ll like it,” Felix assures you.

You eye him suspiciously. “Why does everyone here seem to like secrets so much?”

“It’s not bad,” Jeongin replies.

“Chan said to keep you entertained,” Han adds with a shrug. “So that’s what we’re doing.”

There’s a brief pause before you respond. “So I’m basically being babysat by the local welcome committee?”

“Exactly that,” Felix nods, “and we offer snacks.”

You laugh quietly. “Do you guys always hang out like this? You don’t have to go to work or anything?”

Another shared look—slightly awkward. They let Felix take the lead.

“We’ve got pretty similar schedules,” he says. “But, yeah, we do spend a lot of our free time together.”

“Well, thanks for letting me tag along. I appreciate it. I probably would’ve just stayed in the hotel room all day.”

“We couldn’t let that happen,” Han says.

“Yeah,” Felix grins, glancing out the window. “You’re in Seoul. You’re obligated to at least try a claw machine.”

“Claw machine?” you repeat. “Are we going to an arcade?”

The car begins to slow, pulling into a narrow side street lined with colorful signage and a glowing neon arrow pointing toward an underground arcade.

Han shoots you a grin. “Ready to lose?”

You huff. They have no idea how competitive you are.

“Let’s do this.”

You follow them down the stairs into the dimly lit space. It’s packed full of flashing lights and whirring machines, and smells faintly of popcorn and cotton candy. But there’s hardly anyone inside, and when the boys take off their face masks you can only assume they either come here enough to know it’s dead on a Sunday or they’ve rented out the entire place. You hope for the former.

“Do you want a card or tokens?” Felix asks, already making a beeline for the machine at the entrance.

“I’ll win with either,” you reply.

Felix laughs, swiping a game card and handing it to you. “Confidence. I like it.”

Jeongin is already gone, halfway across the room in front of a basketball hoop game. He waves Lee Know over.

“Time to crush this kids ego.” Lee Know cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders.

You watch as the two of them start a head-to-head round, the machine lighting up with a countdown. Felix pulls you toward a claw machine nearby with rows of pastel plushies and keychains stacked inside.

“You have to call which one you’re going for,” Felix says.

“The bunny,” you tell him.

“I’m getting this bear,” he points to it.

“We’ll see.”

You and Felix choose separate machines and swipe your cards. As the claw dangles and jerks around inside, you go quiet to focus. You nudge it to the left, hold your breath, and press the drop button. The claw lowers, catches onto the pale blue bunny, lifts—and just before it hits the edge of the chute, it drops.

“Nooo,” you groan.

“That’s how they get you,” Han suddenly reappears at your side with a bucket of popcorn.

Felix’s first attempt isn’t any better. His claw completely misses its target.

“Okay, okay that was just a warm-up round,” Felix announces as you both slide your cards again.

Two attempts later, you manage to finally snag the bunny. It drops into the prize chute and you jump up and down, hands raised in the air.

“Damn, bro,” Han says, shaking his head at Felix. “Can you beat anyone in any game?”

Felix looks mildly betrayed. “It’s all luck sometimes.”

You smile sweetly, holding the bunny to him. “For your efforts.”

“A souvenir of my shame, you mean,” he mutters, but he grins as he takes it.

By the time you’ve all made the rounds—air hockey, racing simulators, shooting games—your competitive streak has flared and your card balance is dangerously low. Lee Know crushed Jeongin in four basketball games in a row. Han’s surprisingly good at Dance Dance revolution and Felix set a high score on the punching machine with a spinning back kick that had your jaw on the floor.

Somewhere between rounds, Lee Know disappears and returns with bottled water and kimbap for everyone.

“You guys are seriously good hosts,” you tell him as he hands you one.

“Chan would want us to keep you alive,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, he would definitely hurt us if we didn’t make sure you were adequately fed and hydrated,” Felix agrees.

“Is he your leader or something?”

They freeze for half a second—just long enough to notice.

Han recovers first. “He’s more like…our very stressed out parent.”

You narrow your eyes at them, but they’re already pretending to be very interested in their food. It’s obvious they’re deflecting, but there’s something kind of endearing about the way they do it. They obviously want to make sure you have a good time, but they’re under the impression they are protecting Chris’s secret.

“Well your dad-friend raised some very chaotic sons.”

“Thank you,” Felix says brightly. “We try.”

The rest of the afternoon is spent stopping by a few shops, the guys convincing you to try on things you never would’ve picked for yourself. Somewhere between a pair of oversized sunglasses and a bright patterned jacket, you stop resisting and lean into the mayhem with them. They’re relentless, but also surprisingly good at picking things that actually suit you.

By the time you all pile back into the car, you’re carrying a modest haul—though nothing compared to the bags Felix has. Back at the apartment building, Lee Know and Jeongin head off to their own place, each juggling a few bags.

Felix passes them his own, “You know where my closet is, thanks.”

Lee Know rolls his eyes, but Jeongin does his best to take all the bags in his hands.

Inside the apartment, you see Seungmin and Changbin seated at the dining table, casually flipping through their phones—and across from them sits someone you haven’t seen before. At least, not in person.

There’s something about him that immediately commands attention. His hair is pulled half-up, half-down, with loose strands framing his face. This must be the member that was in Milan for a fashion show. That phrase still doesn’t feel normal to even think.

He’s dressed in what could technically be called casual wear, but it’s fucking Versace. He makes it look both laid-back and runway ready at the same time. He glances up from his phone and when his eyes land on you, he smiles.

“You’re back already,” Felix says. “y/n, this is Hyunjin. Hyunjin, y/n—Chan’s friend.”

Hyunjin gives a small, polite nod and a casual wave. “Hey.”

You return the gesture.

“Didn’t expect you back so early today,” Han says.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin shrugs. “I slept like five hours in two different airports. I’m running on caffeine and vibes, right now.”

“You’re thriving, sweetie,” Changbin reassures him.

When Lee Know and Jeongin return, everyone decides to play charades. The next hour passes in a blur of ridiculous guesses, reenactments and accusations of cheating. You’re in the middle of trying to guess Han’s elaborate pantomime of…a chicken…a rocket ship…you have no idea, when Felix turns to look at you with a frown.

“Chan’s not gonna make it back tonight.”

“Oh.” You try not to let the disappointment show. “Everything okay?”

“Just work stuff,” he says. “But he said to make sure you get back to your hotel safely.”

The news puts a slight damper on the mood, but you finish out the game with them anyway. When they invite you to stay for dinner, you politely decline.

Felix insists on riding with you back to the hotel, chatting casually during the drive—nothing important, just easy conversation that keeps your mind from wandering too far.

Even without Chris, the day didn’t feel like a waste. If anything, it gave you a clearer understanding that they’re so much more than just a group. They’re connected in a way that’s hard to describe—a closeness that seems deeply earned. A kind of found-family bond.

When the car pulls up to your hotel, you turn to Felix with a smile.

“Thanks for today. Really.”

He nods. “Anytime.”

You pause with your hand on the door, then glance at him again. “You’re definitely, like, the second coolest member of Stray Kids.”

His mouth drops open—realizing you’d been fucking with them the entire day with your questioning. Before he can respond, you stick your tongue out and hop out of the car, shutting the door with a grin.

The window rolls down a second later.

“Not cool, y/n.”

The following day, after your author’s meeting, you still haven’t heard from Chris. As you go over your notes from the meeting, you can’t keep your mind from drifting to thoughts of him.

You wonder why he texted Felix about not being able to come back yesterday and not you, if everything’s really fine, what exactly pulled him away—what’s kept him away all this time. And then you remind yourself, as gently as possible, that it’s not your place to worry like this.

You try to reduce it to simple human compassion. The same empathy you’d feel for any friend going through a rough time.

Still, that doesn’t dull the ache of how far away he suddenly feels. Before you think too deeply about it, you pull out your laptop and type their group name into YouTube. You tell yourself it’s only to understand more about the world Chris calls reality. But it’s just blatant curiosity at this point.

To your surprise there’s an endless supply of content: music videos, live stages, interviews, behind-the-scenes clips, and even game shows. Each one feels more surreal than the last. You fall into a two-hour rabbit hole, slack-jawed as you watch the very same boys you spent yesterday with (and Chris, whom you’ve fucked), send their fans into a frenzy merely by existing.

It's jarring, trying to mesh the different versions of them all together.

Just as you pull up a live stream of a 4th of July firework show back home, your phone buzzes. You can’t stop the wave of relief that washes over you, seeing his name.

Hwarang [8:27pm] Hey

You don’t hesitate to reply. 

You [8:28pm] Hey. You okay?

Hwarang [8:30pm] I’ll be fine You busy?

You glance up at the fireworks bursting on your screen. You’re the exact opposite of busy. 

You [8:31pm] Not at all.

As soon as the two checkmarks next to your message turn blue, your phone starts to ring. You nearly drop it out of shock—he’s never called you before. You clear your throat, press the answer button and place the phone against your ear. 

“I’m sorry,” he says as soon as the line connects, his voice soft and low.

“For what?” 

“Goin’ MIA again.”

You remain silent for a moment. Given the parameters of your ‘relationship’, this is supposed to be something you both find fun. He’s not supposed to feel bad for being preoccupied. However, you do appreciate his acknowledgement. 

“Work comes first, you don’t need to apologize.”

“I know,” he sighs, “I wanted to text you but I was in such a shitty mood I didn’t want any of it to rub you the wrong way.”

“You’ve only ever rubbed me the right way, Chris,” you tease.

He chuckles. “Can I come see you?”

“Now?”

A knock at your door startles you once again. You immediately know it can’t be a coincidence.

“Chris…” you trail off, walking towards the door. 

“Hmmm?”

You pull the door open to reveal Chris, masked up and leaning against the wall next to the doorframe. 

“I was in the neighborhood,” he smiles, looking at you as he continues speaking into his phone.

“Uh-huh,” you say, stepping aside and allowing him to enter. 

He takes his shoes off and continues into the room, finally hanging up the phone and sliding it onto the table. He takes off his backpack, then removes his mask and tosses his hat next to his phone. He then brings you in for a hug, squeezing you tightly for longer than necessary, but you don’t mind. 

“You hungry? Thirsty?” you ask when he releases you. 

“I’m good,” he sits down at the small table. He glances at the video playing on your laptop and you promptly shut it. 

“Feeling a little homesick today,” you mumble with a shrug. 

“What would you have been doing today if you were home?” He inquires, pushing the other chair out at the table for you to sit. 

“I would have helped my mom host her annual barbecue and gorged myself on hamburgers and hot dogs, set off fireworks—the typical celebrations,” you reply, taking a seat. 

“Sounds fun…sorry you have to miss it,” he replies earnestly. 

“There’s always next year.”

A silence falls over you as he leans back in the chair, stroking his chin with his pointer finger. He seems to slip away for a moment. 

“What were your worst-case scenario picks?” you ask.

“Huh?” He arches an eyebrow, then it clicks. “Oh…well, the first one was that all of our fans would riot and hate me for breaking a promise.”

You nod, encouraging him to keep going, happy he actually partook in the exercise.

“The second was that another groups image would be irreparably damaged by some careless things I said.”

“Do you mind sharing what actually happened?” 

You don’t want him to feel like you’re prying, but his worst-case scenarios leave much to be considered.

He falls quiet again, and for a moment you worry you’ve overstepped, but then he continues.

“I have this weekly live stream I do with our fans—Chan’s Room…”

You nod, showing him you’re listening. But you hope your face doesn’t give away the fact that you watched clips of it before he arrived.

“It was going strong for a couple of years, too. I mentioned another group in a backhanded sort of way and a few groups they assumed I was talking about, were bombarded with unwarranted hate.”

You have no clue how deep their fandom goes, but it sounds like they’re ready to fight for him at the drop of a dime. 

“And the future of the weekly stream has been up in the air right now. I’ve apologized, tried to make things right, but…it doesn’t look like I’ll be able to keep doing it.”

“And you enjoyed them?” you ask, curiously. 

“I loved it,” he replies with a sullen smile. “I got to connect with our fans every Sunday and talk with them, catch up with them, joke with them…it made us closer, I think.”

“So it’s canceled? The decision is final?”

“It’s not official, but after yesterday’s meeting I know it will be eventually.”

“That’s awful. I’m sorry, Chris.” You reach out, squeezing his knee gently.

He gives a half-assed shrug, but you can see right through him. The tension in his jaw. The flicker of pain in his eyes. “Life goes on.”

“C’est la vie.” 

His lip quirks up. “English, Korean, and French, eh?”

“I’m just full of surprises,” you smirk.

“Speaking of…” he leans back slightly. “Do you know the exact date you leave?”

You narrow your eyes at the shift. “Yes…but I’m not sure I should tell you now.”

“I’m not planning anything crazy,” he says, though his grin is suspicious. “When do you leave?”

“Says the man who arranged a full itinerary and sunset dinner cruise?”

His grin only grows. “When?”

You sigh. “The 18th.”

“And what meetings do you have lined up?”

You cross your arms. “You are up to something.”

“Come on…” he pleads. “I just want to know when I’ll have you to myself again. I’m out of town for a couple days, then I’m back for a bit. After that…”

“I’m gone,” you attempt to complete his sentence. 

“Well, I was gonna say I’ll be performing at Lollapalooza,” he smirks, “but yeah, that too. Of course. Absolutely.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m busy on the 10th and 17th.”

“Noted,” he says, tapping his temple. 

He suddenly reaches out, grabbing the arm of your chair and dragging it toward him.

“I leave tomorrow morning,” he announces, resting his hands on your thighs. 

“You should probably head home and get some sleep, then.” 

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “I’d rather be right here. Besides, we were interrupted last time.”

You place your hands over his and lean in. “Did you come to my room to cash in on a promised blowjob?”

He doesn’t flinch—just grips your thighs and pulls you forward until you’re straddling him.

“That’s one idea.”

He stands with you still wrapped around him, lips brushing yours as he walks the two of you to the bed. He lays you down, crawling over you.

“I need to keep my mind busy, right now, though.”

His mouth crashes to yours hungrily. The fire between you reignites instantly, your legs lock around his waist, your hands slipping beneath his shirt, nails raking across his back.

He pulls away and yanks your shorts down in one swift motion, then drops to his knees on the floor. His fingers dig into your hips as he drags you to the edge of the bed.

“You gonna miss me?” He asks, lips ghosting kisses along your thigh.

“Do you want me to?” you ask, looking down at him. 

He pauses. “Yes.”

“Alright…let’s see if you can make me miss you.” You challenge him. 

He lowers his head between your thighs without another word. His tongue parts your folds, then he purses his lips together as if he’s going to whistle to blow cool air onto your pussy, causing your hips to jolt upwards.

You grip his hair, tugging him forward. He groans as he devours you, mouth sealed to your pussy, tongue moving in tight circles. His hand pushes against your stomach, encouraging you to lie back. You obey, shuddering as he explores you. When he slips two fingers inside, your body arches in response.

“Chris—fuck—”

His rhythm is relentless. His lips, his fingers, his moans all drive you toward the edge, your eyes flutter shut. You cup your breasts, whining and moaning as he alternates between giving you what you desire and teasing you. 

You grab his hand on your stomach and try to force him up.

“You want me to stop?”

“I want you to fuck me,” you reply.

In a blur, he’s above you again, stripping off his clothes. You fumble with his jeans, the urgency between you palpable. His gaze is fixed on yours as he positions himself at your opening. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him down to kiss you, thrusting your hips forward to take him inside. You moan and bite on his bottom lip as he pulls away.

His gaze locks on yours as he pushes his hips forward at an achingly slow rate. You gasp at the stretch, at the feel of him.

“You gonna miss me?” He asks again, eyes teasing you just as much as his cock. 

You press your lips firmly together. Partially just to be defiant, but you also don’t want to lie to yourself or him. You can’t miss him. 

He thrusts deeper, lips brushing yours. He starts off slow and sensual at first, then faster, harder. His thumb finds your clit, circling as he fucks you.

Your moans grow louder, your hips raising to meet his each time. He presses his forehead against yours. Having him inside you right now is no different than any of the other times, but a feeling is brewing that you cannot shake.

“Come for me, y/n,” he whispers. “I want to feel it.”

He straightens and you watch, entranced, as he continues thrusting his hips back and forth, still teasing your clit. But the way he’s staring at you is unnerving. You feel like you’re on a runaway train heading straight for trouble.

But if you’re being honest, you’ve known this since the fucking dinner cruise and haven’t really done a single thing to stop it. 

You sense your release approaching and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you again, wanting him as close as possible. You bury your face against his chest as you cry out his name. He groans as he comes, too, his body trembling with the force of it.

He stays there, slumped against you, catching his breath. He presses kisses to your face, your jaw, your forehead. The air is thick with sweat, sex, and a raw need that neither of you want to acknowledge.

“What time is your flight?” you whisper. 

“7:00am.” 

“Are you sleeping here?”

“I shouldn’t…I still need to pack.”

You nod. He kisses you once more before rolling out of bed. You watch him dress, your body still humming with pleasure.

True to character, he disappears into the bathroom and returns with a warm towel to clean you up with gentle care. 

“I’ll text—”

“Don’t.” You cut him off. “When you say it, I expect it. Just…keep in touch if you have time. If you want.”

He nods with a small smile. “Deal.”

He finishes cleaning up his mess on you and you take the towel from him.

You walk him to the door, waiting as he puts on his backpack, then his hat, then his mask. When his shoes are on, too, he pulls you in for another kiss. 

“Have a safe flight,” you murmur against his lips.

“Mmm,” he hums, nuzzling your nose before finally pulling away. He releases you and opens the door, stepping into the hall. “So you gonna miss me or what?”

“Bye, Christopher,” you deadpan and shut the door in his face. 

a/n: when i was editing this, i realized i used the "runaway train" line back in 2023 when i originally wrote this and i was like hmmm should i take this line out? is to too on the nose with the release of railway?? but it made the cut hehe. [ read chapter thirteen here ]

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