Enhypen Fanfic - Blog Posts

kinktober — day 10 | squirting

church • [sim jaeyun]

you’re wearing nothing but my t-shirt

pairing: sim jaeyun x fem!reader genre: ons between best friends!au, college!au, sub!idol, dom!reader synopsis: in which jake and you are something between best friends and lovers with no actual relationship status, so when you meet him with other people at a party he said he wouldn’t attend shit gets real between you . . . word count: 2571 warnings: curse words ig, unprotected sex (don’t be a spunky, cover your monkey), fingering, a lil orgasm denial and thigh riding, jake kinda gets tortured a bit, squirting

yeah, jake is giving me fuckboy vibes asf and i ain’t even sorry for putting that out there like this lol (ly jake <;3)

oh and, this got so damn long because i kinda had 3 daydreams about jake and they all merged in my head to create this, so i hope you like it hehe

Taking a sip of your cocktail, you let your eyes wander through the room, avoiding eye contact as best as you could since it was uncommon for girls your age to show up to parties alone. Only when you heard chatter and a strangely familiar voice coming closer, you risked a look upwards, resulting in meeting the eyes of a known but unexpected face.

»Jake?«

He was standing almost directly in front of you, surrounded by three other guys you recognised as Jay, Sunghoon and Heeseung, who had his arm wrapped around a girl‘s waist. Incredulously looking from face to face, you bit the inside of your cheek, a small wave of anger making you clench your hand around the glass you just drank out of.

»What a surprise to see you here.«

His voice almost dripped with sarcasm, the raised eyebrow and the cocky smile only underlining how much of a fuckboy he had become. You remembered the beginning of the school year, when he noticed how lost you were during Physics and he kindly offered to help you study for the exams.

You took his offer with great appreciation, maybe also because his eyes glistened in excitement and the sweet smile that curled on his lips woke up the butterflies in your stomach. Back then, even his outer appearance was a lot different.

His smile was honest and his eyes warm, the oversized sweaters and plaid shirts he wore making him look like the absolute boyfriend. You could feel the effect all that had on you throughout your tutoring sessions, when you had gotten a lot closer and flirty-sounding jokes became more common.

He loved to make you giggle when he pretended not to know an answer, just to make you explain the whole exercise again, which often resulted in you understanding your mistakes and doing better on the tests. Still, you felt like there could have been more between you if both of you had allowed it to be.

Gazing up and down his slim body, you tried to uncover the nice young boy he was while letting his current appearance have his influence on you. The leather jackets and dark colours he seemed to have gotten into really matched his cold gaze and the false smile he carried on his face now.

You didn’t know what happened to him during winter break after you hugged him goodbye when lessons ended on the last day of school and couldn’t stop blushing on your way home because of the way he booped your nose with his after his gaze kept jumping from your eyes to your lips and back over while he chewed on his bottom lip as if he was pondering whether or not to kiss you.

On the first day after vacation, you couldn’t even recognise him by the way he talked and acted, unable to say hello out of surprise when you saw him again. He had the same arrogant grin plastered on his lips when he came up to you and pulled you into a half-hearted hug, all the warmth you connected to his body replaced by ice as you looked at his face, too astonished to process his behaviour.

Now you felt the bass of the roaring music in your stomach, Jake’s bitter eyes piercing yours as he clenched his jaw while straightening up his posture.

»It’s unusual for you to go to parties without me.«

The reference to the first and last party you went to in his company felt like a punch in the face as it brought up memories you thought you had digested since then. Your tummy felt uneasy at the wave of emotions that crashed over you as you pressed your lips together at the phantom kiss ghosting over them.

You could still feel his tongue in your mouth, his lips moving against yours in a feverish tempo as the liquid courage rushed through your veins. His hands rested on your hips as you moved onto his lap, clinging to him impossibly closer while you clasped your hands in his hair.

When you arrived at your place, Jake’s hands were restless roaming your body as he carried you to the bedroom and let you down on the bed. He was gentle with you, the icy facade he created crumbling under the soft touches you exchanged when his lips ghosted over you and he carefully helped you fall over the edge with the tender movements of his hips.

The next morning you woke up, still smelling his perfume on your pillow and feeling his touches and kisses but Jake was nowhere to be found. Looking down your body you noticed yourself wearing one of his oversized shirts, the one you secretly always liked and still kept in the back of your closet because there was no way you could just go up to him and give it back.

Snapping out of your trance, you realised Jake still stood in front of you with his stupidly attractive face; his doe eyes still stuck on yours, his tongue still poking the inside of his cheek and his lips ever looking so soft.

You pushed yourself off the armchair, standing face to face on eye-level with him now as you eyed him up and down.

»You’re such an arrogant asshole, Sim Jaeyun«.

With a flick of your wrist, your cocktail ended up on his white shirt, seeping through the fabric and leaving a bright pink spot on his chest. You turned around on your heels, clutching the glass tightly as you felt the eyes of everyone close enough to have witnessed the situation turning to you.

Yet, you didn’t care as you stormed out of the room, Jake’s shouts of your name mere whispers in the mass of noises that filled the whole apartment when he ran after you.

»Fucking hell, stop already!«

His voice was loud in the hallway, echoing off the walls as he stood behind you, heavily breathing when he reached out to grab your wrist and spin you around to have you face him again.

»Leave me alone«, you hissed, pulling your arm out of his hold. »Wasn’t that hard after you woke up at my place either, remember?«

»Fuck that was a mistake, okay?«

»The whole thing or just you leaving me all alone with your shirt?«

»Wait, you still have it, don’t you?«

»That was not my question, Jaeyun.«

His silence was loud as his eyes focused on the floor, remorse painting his face as he struggled to find words to explain his situation. You shook your head, scoffing at how quiet he got once he was confronted with a situation he couldn’t escape with jokes, money or his dumb smile.

You turned your back on him, reaching for the door knob as he grabbed hold of your shoulders, putting an arm around you as he pulled you into a room next to the apartment door.

»What the fuck is in here? A dungeon in which y’all keep girls as slaves or something?«, you hissed into the darkness.

Jake chuckled, turning around the key and switching on the light before he leaned his back against the door and crossed his arms in front of his body.

»We’re all weird but trust me, none of us is that sick.«

»Then what are we doing here?«

»Were gonna talk this out now.«

A loud laugh escaped your throat as you arched an eyebrow at him, not being able to comprehend his intention.

»Shut up, Jake. I don’t want to talk about anything with you.«

You aimed for the door, only to find yourself pinned against it in the break of a second, Jake’s body pressing you against it as he bit the inside of his cheek again.

»You’re younger than me, show some respect and stop running away when I’m speaking to you.«

His voice sounded strict, unlike the teasing tone his voice carried in the living room when he reminded you of your last night together.

You rolled your eyes, not in the mood for a discussion as you tried getting him off of you.

»Yeah, I’m younger than you, but trust me when I say my dick is bigger than yours.«

You imitated his earlier facial expression, the greasy smile and the eyebrow move he did when he came talking to you. Fighting him with his own weapons seemed like a good idea to you, so you leaned your forehead against his, one of your hands tangling in his hair.

»What is that supposed to mean?«

He pulled away in confusion, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to decipher your actions, your lips dangerously close to touching.

»You, Jake Sim, are a cockthinker, which makes me the smarter one.«

A satisfied grin crept on your lips as you stuck out your tongue to him and mocked the way his confusion grew with each passing second.

»I am a what?«

»A cockthinker. You thought I wouldn’t spread my legs for you anymore because we both know I can’t do this whole „no strings attached“ crap, so you came here with the hope of finding someone else to shove your dick inside.«

»And that is why your dick is bigger than mine?«

You shrugged, the answer to his question more than obvious in your opinion.

»Yup.«

Jake stepped back, running a hand through his hair as he gazed at your legs and back at your face, a concentrated smirk on his lips.

»Pants down and prove it.«

»What?«

»Proof or it’s not true.«

»You’re so pathetic«, you scoffed, unbuttoning your pants and pulling the zipper down. You pulled the belt out of the hoops and kicked the pants off your legs as you stepped closer to him, one of your hands on his chest as you pulled him to you by his collar. »I’m not scared of you.«

»Oh baby, you should be«, he purred. His jacket and shirt ended up on the floor next to your pants, your top following suit as his typical smirk crept back onto his lips.

»Why? Scared I’m better than you?«

He took off his pants, stripping his underwear off with them as you dropped your panties and bra right next to you and guided him towards what seemed to be the guest bed.

»No, just convinced you’re gonna cum first.«

You clicked your tongue, pushing him on the bed as you slipped onto his lap, clutching the belt you still had in your other hand tighter as you forced him to lie down on his back.

»You can’t always win, Jaeyun«

Using your free hand, you pumped his throbbing cock before aligning him with your entrance and sinking down on him as you pinned his hands above his head. Fixating them on the bedframe with your belt, you sighed at how deliciously he stretched out your walls.

»You look amazing like this, Jakey«, you purred, placing a kiss on his lips as you rocked your hips against his. Breaking off the kiss, you threw your head back with a moan, setting a pace with your movements while Jake just watched his dick disappearing inside of you.

You rested your hands on his chest to support yourself as you repeatedly lifted yourself and sank back down on him, burying his dick between your folds accompanied by sighs and moans of his name.

His eyes were screwed shut as you felt him tensing up underneath you, groans and whimpers occasionally leaving his lips as you sensed his approaching orgasm by the way his dick twitched inside of you.

A dirty grin flitted across your lips as you raised your body once more, this time without sinking back down. Jake’s eyes snapped open and he furrowed his eyebrows, caught by surprise at the sudden loss of friction.

»What the fuck?«

»You’re so desperate, how sweet«, you cooed, slipping off his lap and kneeling on the bed next to him with spread legs, your wet cunt on full display for him to marvel at.

»Fuck you.«

He tried freeing his hands from the belt as you stuck out your tongue, licking two of your fingers before gently pushing them inside you to replace the missing feeling of his dick between your folds. You smiled in satisfaction at his frustrated sigh, his eyes glued to your digits moving in and out of you.

»Can’t you at least sit on my face or something?«

You moaned out his name, followed by a string of curse words as you enhanced the speed between your thighs, lewd noises filling the room along with your heavy breathing and Jake’s sounds of annoyance.

»Oh, come on«, he whined, tugging at the belt again but failing miserably.

You shrugged, bottom lip held hostage between your teeth as you sighed his name again.

»You should try begging for it.«

»I’m not gonna fucking beg you.«

You pulled your fingers out of your cunt, licking them clean as you moved back onto his lap, sitting down on his thigh and rubbing your soaking wet pussy against his skin once.

His thigh tensed underneath you as he took a deep breath, whispering »Okay, okay. Please just . . . do something«, with a brittle voice as you drew small circles on his abs and chest.

»You should hear yourself, baby boy«, you chuckled at his fucked out state, pearls of sweat forming on his forehead as he tried to keep up his facade even with you torturing him like that. »So desperate to cum but too shy to work for it.«

»Just fucking let me, okay?«

Raising an eyebrow at him, you signalled he knew what he had to do for you to allow him to cum, before you went back to riding his thigh with the same unbothered pace you had set when you first sank onto his dick.

Another sigh of Jake‘s name rolled off your tongue, finally breaking his facade and pushing him all the way into submission.

»Babe, please let me finish«, he whined, his voice cracking and tears pooling in his eyes.

»What a good boy you are«, you purred and locked lips with him as you let him push his dick back into your throbbing cunt.

A few thrusts upwards helped Jake reach his orgasm as you untied his hands and let him place them on your hips to guide you towards oblivion. His sloppy thrusts along with his lips all over your upper body soon made you catch your high as you squirted onto his hips and thighs with a loud moan.

He carefully thrusted up a few more times, riding out both your orgasms as he felt your juice running over his skin. His chest moved quickly, heavy breaths filling the room as you got off his lap, hissing at how empty your core felt all of a sudden.

»You should take the lead more often«, Jake sighed, rubbing his sore wrists as a low chuckle echoed in his throat.

»Sure thing, baby boy.« You kissed his lips again, stroking the sweaty hair out of his face and placing a kiss on his forehead too. »But we still have a discussion ahead of us first.«

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ik i suck at properly timing stuff ,,, and this os got so long geeeeeeeez ,,,, anyways, ik i’m almost a week late and i promise i‘ll try catching up with the other stories asap

taglist:

@faeriecobie, @scuzmunkie, @multistan30

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

kinktober setlist

kinktober — day 4 | spit kink

swim • [park sunghoon]

i’ve been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: smut, established relationship, dom!idol, sub!reader synopsis: in which watching tv with your boyfriend sunghoon doesn‘t last long word count: 435 warnings: fingering, spitting

park sunghoon with a spit kink <\\\\\3

Sitting down next to you on the sofa of your shared apartment, Sunghoon trailed his hand up your thigh and under your skirt, playing with the rim of your panties. He gently stroked your sex through the fabric, two fingers massaging it while he kept his eyes on the TV screen on the wall across from where you were seated.

You bit back a moan, shifting on your place as he removed his hand with a mischievous grin on his lips and leaned closer to you. You could feel his breath on your neck; it chased goosebumps down your spine and you bit the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from giving in.

»Baby~«, he asked in his baby voice, trying to gain your attention. »Mind laying down for me, so I can make your pretty pussy feel good?«

Swallowing hard, you turned to look at him, instantly getting tackled by his lips on your own and turned off the TV, your full attention now going into the way he made you lie down on the sofa and slid the panties off your legs without removing your skirt first.

He licked his lips, when you spread your legs for him, eyes hungrily fixed on your cunt as he leaned closer and spat on it, using his own saliva as lube to push two fingers inside of you.

Moaning out his name, you arched your back off the sofa to roll your hips against his hand, desperately trying to get some more friction. He chuckled at your already fucked out state, eyes closed from the pleasure he gave you and lips twitching as you tried to suppress more moans.

»You’re so pretty like this«, he purred, peppering your face with kisses before reaching your lips and lingering there for a short moment. You broke the kiss with a moan, wrapping your legs around his body in the need of catching your release.

»Open your mouth again«, he breathed, enhancing the speed of his fingers and drawing circles on your clit with his thumb.

You did as he told him, parting your lips and allowing him to spit into your mouth as well, the pool between your legs now close to overflowing as he demanded you to swallow his saliva while pressing his lips back onto yours.

Once again, you obeyed and swallowed, a high pitched moan of his name escaping your lips as you screwed your eyes shut, the orgasm that rippled through your body making your clench around his fingers.

»Good girl«, Sunghoon whispered and pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean before unbuttoning your blouse. »Now get up and help me, because we’re far from being done.«

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you like it, sunghoon anon :3

taglist:

@faeriecobie, @scuzmunkie, @multistan30

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

kinktober setlist

kinktober — day 3 | orgasm denial/crying

into it • [park jongseong]

she don’t really like it but she needs me

pairing: park jongseong x fem!reader genre: smut, established relationship, hard dom!idol, sub!reader synopsis: in which you‘re supposed to learn your lesson after acting up (let’s be real, you don‘t) word count: 597 warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it, before u tap it, kiddos), crying, orgasm dental

this feels so weird idk, it’s kinda rushed and bad, i sincerely apologize, jay anon :(

Draping your leg over his shoulder, Jay harshly snapped his hips against yours as his dick caressed your sweet spot.

»How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to act up like that in front of the others?«, he hissed, rough thrust accompanying his words to fuck the attitude out of you. »Yet you either don’t listen or don’t fucking care.«

Tears pooled in your eyes at his words, you knew he didn’t meant it as rude as it sounded and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on but the friction on your pussy started to get unbearable and you were well aware you weren’t allowed to cum until you learned your lesson.

»But let me tell you, baby girl, that whatever the fuck it is that makes you not listen to me«, he halted for a moment, dark eyes fixing yours before he roughly picked up his pace again, »I don’t mind fucking that attitude out of you over and over again, you got me?«

You nodded, too breathless to reply and even if you tried it wouldn’t be more than a whisper.

»Use your words to reply to me, got it?«

»I’m . . . I’m sorry.«

»Oh, are you?«

A small tear drop rolled down your check because of his rough pace and movements and you tried pressing your legs together to make him stop but his muscular arms held them in place, his cold stare piercing your eyes as he clenched his jaw.

»Jay, please slow down«, you whined. More tears ran over your face while he continued to pound into you with the same pace as before. »I‘m getting sensitive . . . «

He chuckled, breathless but still going, and leaned forward to gently kiss your lips, his hair sticking to his forehead and pearls of sweat coating his neck

»Is someone close?«

His whisper tickled your senses and you clenched around him, too scared to cum but barely able to suppress it much longer. You nodded, a high moan escaping your lips as you turned your head sideways to escape his gaze.

»Eyes on me, baby girl«, he scolded, turning your head to meet your eyes with his again. »Do you want to cum?«

You were unable to reply, sniffles taking over as you started crying in pleasure, your pussy hurting too good for you to concentrate and a hushed whimper accompanied your nod when you dug your nails into the bedsheets.

»Then beg for it.«

You sobbed at his command, tears flowing like there was no tomorrow, and your legs began to tremble while he kept his animalistic pace with his thrusts.

You screamed his name in a moan, the knot in your stomach tightening as you pleaded for him to let you finish.

He chuckled at your pathetic whimpers, mocking the way your voice trembled with every word you spoke as he stroked your hair out of your face.

»Jay, please let me finish«, you snuffled and bit your lip to suppress another sob, your back arching off the bed and your silent crying filling the room. »I promise I will be good.«

Jay scoffed, pulling out of you and clicked his tongue before kissing your lips and wiping away your tears.

»Let this be a lesson, clean yourself up and meet me in the living room«, he whispered and got up from the bed, collecting his clothes on the way to the bathroom. »We still have a lot to talk about.«

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

after re-reading it, i honestly don’t hate it as much as before, so i hope you like it jay anon :3

taglist:

@faeriecobie, @ahgasearmyfan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

kinktober setlist

[06:30 AM] 심재윤

Carefully, you tried to wiggle out of Jake's warm embrace. He had his face buried in your shoulder and his arms held you tight against his body. How was he able to continue sleeping so peacefully while the alarm was literally screaming in the background?

You attempted rolling over and out from underneath the covers, but when you sat up instead you heard Jake's voice silently mumbling while he stretched out his arm to grab your wrist.

»Don't leave me«, he whispered half-asleep, a ghost of fear in his voice while he tried to pull you back into bed.

»I'm not going anywhere, Jake. Please let me turn off the alarm, hm?«

»Promise you will come right back?«

He was always scared of losing you after having to deal with his father's job-indebted absence a lot during his childhood, but after his nightmare of not being able to save you during an accident, he was even more worried, although he knew you would always stay with him.

»I promise.«

With that, he let go of your wrist, and you got up to turn off the alarm before slipping back underneath the blanket.

»Just five more minutes, alright?«

Jake gently kissed your forehead and contently smiled to himself. You were his, and he was yours, and neither of you would ever leave the other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist:

@ahgasearmyfan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

full masterlist

## enhypen masterlist

S — smut F — fluff A — angst C — crack

OS

› devilish kinktober '21 day 16 [S]

OS

› into it kinktober '21 day 3 [S]

OS

› church kinktober ‘21 day 10 [F,A,S]

TIMESTAMPS

› [06:30 AM] [F & A]

OS

› swim kinktober ‘21 day 4 [S]

nothing to see here ... yet

nothing to see here ... yet

nothing to see here ... yet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

full masterlist

The amount of love the teaser has received is insane! Thank you all so much! I’m so excited for this to be posted this Thursday, so stay tuned! The taglist for this post is still open by the way!

( 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 ): Release Date: August 8th

💻 LOOK UP TO YOU ( enhypen )

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

𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 12.8k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was anonymously requested! Reblogs for this teaser are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N is an idol, the members of Enhypen are not idols but they are your adorably dorky fanboys.

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

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

You guys are insane (affectionate)! Thank you so much for all the love you’ve given this piece 🫶

──★ 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( enhypen )

❛ In which you’re the idol who somehow snatched the members of Enhypen’s heart at first sight.

𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 8.8k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! All of the members are found below the cut! Enjoy! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Love at first sight trope, Idol Y/N AU, inconsistent POV, whether Y/N is a solo artist or a member of a group varies from member to member, lots of mentions of being stressed with work, Y/N in Jake’s piece has some negative opinions on the HYBE company (which doesn’t reflect my own personal opinions), Y/N and Sunghoon are drunk together but it’s all pretty mild, meet-cutes for all members except for Jake — his is more of a one-sided enemies-to-lovers trope, let me know if I missed anything!

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

이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG.

An exhausted sigh brushed past Heeseung's lips as he trudged into the empty elevator of his company building. With his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, he leaned heavily against the cold, metallic railing at the back of the enclosed space. The hum of the elevator's ascent seemed to echo his own weary thoughts, a turbulent mix of pride and anxiety swirling in his mind. Images of the countless posters featuring his face, alongside those of his members, plastered all over town flashed before his eyes. Despite the pride he felt in the fanbase Enhypen had garnered since their debut, a gnawing fear tugged at his heart — a fear that after all the sacrifices made for this new comeback, it might still fall short of expectations.

Lost in his own tumultuous sea of thoughts, Heeseung was jolted back to reality by the sudden chime of the elevator, signaling its stop. The sound snapped him from his reverie, and as the doors opened, he stumbled out onto the wrong floor, colliding gently with someone exiting the opposite way. His face flushed with embarrassment as he muttered a hasty apology, realizing he had disembarked prematurely. Flustered, he shoved his arm between the closing doors to force them open again, avoiding eye contact with the stranger who had witnessed his blunder. The mortification deepened as he heard the soft, amused chuckle from the person he’d bumped into.

In the brief moment of awkward silence that followed, your melodic voice broke through, catching Heeseung’s attention. “Aren’t you one of the members of Enhypen? Heeseung, right?”

His gaze, which had been fixed on the floor in embarrassment, hesitantly lifted to meet your bright eyes. The connection felt electric, as if a spotlight had suddenly focused on you, illuminating the exquisite details of your face. Heeseung was struck by an overwhelming sense of awe, his heart racing as he tried to gather his thoughts. Unfortunately, his voice seemed to have abandoned him completely, leaving him with no words other than a timid nod.

The smile that graced your lips was like a burst of sunshine, sending Heeseung’s heart into a whirl. Your eyes sparkled with genuine excitement, and he could almost feel the warmth of your enthusiasm radiating towards him. It was a small yet endearing display of your excitement that tugged at his heartstrings.

“I honestly can’t believe I’m meeting you,” you said, your voice bubbling with unfiltered joy. “I’ve already listened to every song on your new album, Romance: Untold, and it’s truly amazing. My favorite is definitely ‘Moonstruck’ — I’ve had it on repeat so much that it might be considered a bit of an obsession.”

Heeseung managed to curl the corners of his lips into a shy grin, chuckling softly at the sight of your unrestrained praise. Though his mind was still blank and his ability to articulate a response seemed impaired, the sight of you raving about his work was heartening. You didn’t seem to mind, as you turned your attention back to the slowly descending elevator, which gave Heeseung a clear view of your slightly flushed cheeks.

Suddenly, a realization seemed to hit you, causing your eyes to widen in a mixture of panic and embarrassment. “Oh no, I hope you don’t think I’m just a weird fan who snuck in here! I’m actually one of the members of a new group that debuted a few months ago. I’m the eldest member, actually. Um, I’m Y/N.” Your once bold and outgoing demeanor gave way to a nervous, stammering apology as you quickly rattled off your introduction. Heeseung couldn’t help but chuckle softly, the sight of your flustered state easing his own tension.

As if sensing your discomfort, the elevator doors slid open with a familiar chime, allowing you to bow hurriedly before slipping out of the confined space. Heeseung, feeling a sudden surge of determination, followed you into the lobby. His hand reached out, gently grabbing your wrist and bringing you to a stop. The startled look on your face, accompanied by your crimson cheeks, made Heeseung’s heart race. The way your eyes gleamed with curiosity and surprise left him breathless, and he felt a rush of courage to keep you from walking away.

“I – I really appreciate you enjoying our album,” he blurted out, his voice trembling slightly. His eyes darted around, searching for the right words to extend the fleeting moment. “I’ll admit that I haven’t heard your music yet, but... um, if you’re free now, maybe we could grab a coffee? I’d love to hear more about your group and listen to your stuff.”

The transformation in your expression was instantaneous. The soft gasp that escaped your lips, combined with your shy nod of agreement, filled Heeseung with an exhilarating sense of relief and excitement. If the thread of his life had been cut at that moment, he would have died the happiest man on earth. Your smile, so bright and genuine, breathed new life into his day, turning a simple encounter into something extraordinary.

박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG.

As the award show neared its conclusion, the atmosphere of genuine enjoyment gradually gave way to a palpable restlessness. Idols, exhausted from hours of watching performances and listening to repetitive acceptance speeches, were eager to leave.

Jay, seated among the sea of idols, found himself particularly conscious of the numerous cameras stationed around the venue. Each lens seemed to capture his every movement, broadcasting it to the fans watching from the comfort of their homes. Normally, he was accustomed to this constant scrutiny, but tonight felt different. The hours seemed to stretch interminably, and he watched as a parade of performers and winners he barely recognized took the stage.

His body ached from the relentless dance and vocal rehearsals leading up to their next comeback, the dull pain in his muscles a constant reminder of his exhaustion. Despite his best efforts to maintain a stoic expression for the sake of Engenes, Jay felt the strain, his neck twinging painfully with every attempt to relieve it.

The host, a familiar figure in a sharp suit, made his way to the center of the stage for the final time. Adjusting his tie with a practiced charm, he flashed a bright grin that could be seen even from the back rows. Jay barely registered the words as the emcee began his closing speech, his mind focused on the discomfort in his neck.

“What a night, what a night,” the host began, his voice tinged with rehearsed sentiment. “I can comfortably say that this will be an unforgettable evening for many — myself included.”

He paused, glancing around the audience with a knowing smile. “I know I’m supposed to end the night with a heartfelt speech, but we have one final surprise that I’m sure you’ll all enjoy — a special performance.”

Confusion rippled through the audience as murmurs filled the room. Jay furrowed his brows, intrigued yet weary.

“As you all know, there is a nationally beloved solo artist who has been on hiatus for seven months.” The anticipation in the room grew palpable. “Yes, you know exactly who I’m talking about! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back our one and only — Y/N!”

The moment you stepped onto the stage, the audience erupted in applause and cheers. Your emotional grin barely concealed the tears threatening to spill from the overwhelming support. For Jay, the world seemed to collapse in on itself, leaving only the ethereal vision of you. The simple act of walking and smiling was enough to leave him breathless.

As you took your place at the center of the stage, the music began, and the cheers gradually quieted. Every discomfort Jay had felt moments ago vanished as he watched you raise the microphone to your lips, your eyes turning into crescent moons with your unwavering smile.

Your voice was enchanting, filling every corner of the stadium and striking the hearts of everyone present with its raw emotion. Jay was no exception. He was captivated by the intensity and beauty of your performance, feeling every note resonate deeply within him. As the final gentle notes faded, tears you had held back began to roll down your cheeks, ruining your makeup but enhancing your vulnerability.

The audience's applause was deafening, a testament to their love and admiration. Despite the chaos, your heart swelled with gratitude at the sight of so many people celebrating your return.

The award show faded into a distant memory as you found yourself surrounded by people offering heartfelt praise and excitement. Your cheeks ached from smiling, but the bliss of the moment was worth every second. Faces blurred together as you moved from one conversation to the next, each interaction a reminder of how much you were loved and missed.

Throughout it all, Jay watched you from a distance, his group members having long since left. He desperately wanted to approach you but felt intimidated by the constant stream of admirers. Eventually, he resigned himself to the idea that he might not get the chance to express how profoundly your performance had affected him. With a heavy heart, he signaled to his bodyguard that he was ready to leave.

Outside the stadium, the noise of the city offered a reprieve from the weight of his celebrity persona. Jay enjoyed the simple act of watching cars pass by, lost in thought. He didn’t notice you until you sighed contentedly and took the empty spot beside him.

“Pretty night,” you said softly, your voice tender and soothing. Jay turned to you, stunned into silence by your presence. The fluttering in his stomach intensified.

In an effort to compose himself, he looked back at the road. “You must be tired,” he said, trying to sound casual. “After so long away from the spotlight, I mean.”

You giggled, a sound that squeezed his heart. “Blissfully drained.”

Jay chuckled, stealing a quick glance at you before returning his gaze forward. The comfortable silence between you was enough, each moment charged with unspoken emotions.

“You know,” you began, “I watched your performance from the dressing room. I really enjoyed it.”

The blush that crept up Jay’s ears was immediate, followed by a shy smile. Your compliment left him feeling both flustered and elated. You turned away slightly, your own cheeks flushed.

Before Jay could respond, a black Cadillac pulled up in front of him, signaling it was time to leave. Panic set in as he realized he hadn’t said everything he wanted to. You, however, seemed unfazed, your confident smirk never wavering.

“May our paths cross once more,” you said with a warm smile, taking a step back and waving.

Jay watched you disappear into the night, your words echoing in his mind. He hoped fervently that this wouldn't be the last time he saw you.

심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN.

Amidst the cacophony of angry voices clashing like a storm, your blood boiled at the pure entitlement of the people standing before you. You'd barely managed to set your bag down on the leather couch of the recording studio you had waited weeks to finally use when the door burst open, revealing the breathless mess of a manager responsible for some boy group you couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge. He claimed that there had been an error in the schedule for the room, that it was supposedly meant to be occupied by his group—never mind the fact that your name had been very clearly stated in the timesheet for weeks.

The sour taste on your tongue intensified as soon as you noticed a group of six boys hesitantly approaching the tense situation, led by a younger-looking boy with almost cartoonishly big doe eyes. His brows furrowed as he tried to decipher the not-so-clean words being exchanged between both teams. Letting your own manager handle the mess, you remained seated on the couch with your arms folded over your chest, hoping you'd be compensated for the reserved time you'd lost to this fiasco, though you were almost certain you wouldn't be.

Somehow maneuvering themselves around the strife, the newcomers entered the recording room, only to awkwardly stand before you as if expecting you to explain the situation. Despite your clear distaste, you let your hands fall limply onto your lap with a frustrated sigh.

"I reserved this room for today weeks ago," you said, the acidity in your tone unmistakable. None of the boys seemed too bothered by it as they continued to watch you intently. "Your manager, however, decided it would be a good idea to waste everyone's time by claiming there must have been some kind of oversight since apparently he also reserved this exact time for you guys."

"Uh, I think there might have really been a misunderstanding since we were also set to record here," Doe-Eyes responded quickly, glancing back towards his manager anxiously as if unsure of his own words. You couldn't help but scoff and roll your eyes.

Pulling your phone out of your back pocket, you didn't try to hide the incredulous shake of your head. Once you found the confirmation email you’d received upon booking the studio, you turned your screen so that all six boys could read. “Unless you also have an email similar to this— which, by the way, your manager has failed to show us instead of calling his boss—then I don’t think there’s really any room to call this a ‘misunderstanding’.”

Almost immediately, Doe-Eyes pulled his own phone out of the pocket of his hoodie, hurriedly scrolling through it while taking a seat a little further down the same couch you'd been glued to for the past twenty minutes. The rest of the members didn’t seem to have anything else to say as they either pursed their lips awkwardly or whispered amongst themselves, their furrowed brows signaling their own concerns about what it would mean for them if you were to keep the studio. And although you were confident that you and your team had done everything right, you were barely able to suppress your own fear of being left high and dry. It wasn’t uncommon for solo artists such as yourself to have no other alternative than to fight tooth and nail for fair treatment in an industry with a clear preference for boy groups like the ones present at the moment—and the company you were currently working for was really no different, as evidenced by the infuriating stories shared by the painfully sparse number of solo artists you’d met in this very building.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Doe-Eyes whipped his head around as though looking for someone. “Where’s Jake?”

The other members uselessly copied their friend’s action, shrugging silently. “I think he was talking with his mom on the phone when we left, but he said he wouldn’t be too long.”

Almost as if the act of voicing his name could summon him, a very disheveled seventh boy skidded to a halt behind the ongoing commotion taking place right outside the studio. His eyes widened in bewilderment as he processed the admittedly rare scene unfolding before him. His attention quickly shifted to the group of idols crowding the already confined space as one of the members waved at him to join them, a silent command that didn’t need to be repeated as he squeezed his way inside. Once he made it past the door, he hunched over breathlessly, a string of gibberish pouring out of his mouth as he tried to explain his tardiness—not a single word of it being even remotely comprehensible to you.

Ultimately, the boy’s excuses didn’t matter as everyone’s attention was drawn to the familiar authoritative figure who finally made his appearance (as requested by the boys’ manager) to solve the ridiculous dilemma, the typical severe expression etched onto his face. You tried to brush aside your rising anxiety to no avail, your leg subconsciously bouncing up and down.

While your mind raced with worst-case scenarios, Jake—the boy who’d just arrived—found himself stilled by the mere sight of you. Encircled by a heavenly bubble that seemed to drown out his surroundings, he found himself captivated by the worry tainting what he was positive would otherwise be the most heart-mangling pair of eyes he’d ever seen. Even with your entire essence emanating a mixture of irritation and anxiety, Jake was sure his eyes would never find anything or anyone that could compare to the profoundness of your beauty. He almost questioned if you were real, or if he had lost his sanity to a sweet hallucination, though he quickly pushed the idea out of his mind for fear of losing sight of you.

“Hi.” It was all that Jake could muster, hoping his heart wouldn’t suddenly stop when your weary eyes landed on him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

Several conflicting emotions passed through your face as you tried to make sense of the unexpected contrast between the serious situation and his dazed expression. In the end, all you could do was scoff nastily at his lack of ability to read the room, a reaction that still made Jake feel as though he could levitate since your simple acknowledgment of his existence was enough for him to obsess over for the rest of his lifetime.

The sight of the newcomer was almost ridiculous as you shifted in your seat almost uncomfortably, unable to understand what could possibly be going through his mind.

“Okay, let’s do this.” The authoritarian voice of your superior was enough to drag your attention away from the oddity of this boy. “Since Enhypen’s comeback is set at a sooner date, I suggest Y/N allow them to use the room first. I’ll be sure to postpone the reservations of the people meant to come here today or tomorrow. That is my final say on the matter.”

He raised his hand in a stern manner the moment he noticed you quickly jumping to your feet to argue, immediately shutting you up as your lips curled into a disgruntled snarl. Even though a part of you had predicted this outcome, you still couldn’t believe it as your eyes found the familiar pair belonging to your exhausted manager.

Since it was clear that you and your team had no other option but to pack up what little had been set up before this whole fiasco began, you begrudgingly snatched your bag to sling over your shoulder—though not before scowling in the boys’ direction, causing them to wince back. Except for Jake, who annoyingly remained in his spot, smiling stupidly at you.

Hours after being kicked out of your own appointment, you found yourself sitting alone under the shade of a large tree at a nearby park. Bitterness still possessed your heart despite coming here to calm yourself in the comforting alternative universe that only seemed to exist in this very spot, usually waiting for your return whenever life took a rough turn. Every other time, the gentle kisses of the wind against your skin, the delicious warmth that dwelled just under the surface of the ground, or the simple serenity that washed over your troubled mind as you listened to the natural melody of small animals and children playing would immediately comfort you. However, your little piece of paradise did not spare any mercy for you today. The chilly wind nipped at your reddened cheeks and nose, the ground beneath you was still moist from the light rain of the previous day, and all you could hear were the exhaustive sounds of distant traffic and the robotic voices of business people on their phones. Your little piece of paradise, your alternative universe hidden in plain sight, had become distressingly bleak.

You were just about to abandon your spot, the disappointment becoming overwhelming to the point of blurring your vision with unshed tears, when the sound of cautious footsteps from behind alerted you. Breath catching in your throat at the thought of what could possibly happen, you hoped whoever was approaching would just walk past and prove you to be foolishly paranoid.

“You hide well, Y/N.”

The sinister words unmistakably belonging to a man hung in the air, making you consider breaking into a run—or perhaps attempting to kick him in the knees to temporarily incapacitate him and give you more time to escape. A million thoughts stormed through your head as your heartbeat picked up.

“I’m sorry about what happened with the studio.” The specificity of the man’s apology made you pause. You noted that he had stopped moving, evidently standing just a foot or two away from you. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. “After you and your team left, I was finally told what went down, and I felt guilty. Obviously, you have every right to be upset considering your name was the only one that appeared to be scheduled.”

Only a moment passed before the owner of the mysterious voice stood before you, sporting a shy smile while holding a brown paper bag close to his chest. It was the boy who had arrived late to the recording session, the one with the dazed look in his eyes — the same one still present as he looked down at your sitting figure. His presence reignited the smoldering anger you’d managed to suppress over the past few hours. You didn't bother holding back the immediate glare directed at him, a glare that would have made anyone else shrink back. But he seemed unfazed, his smile only growing into a full, boyish grin that vaguely reminded you of a Golden Retriever, with an infectious warmth that was hard to ignore.

He stood there, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the bag crinkling slightly in his grip. His tousled hair caught the last rays of the setting sun, creating a halo effect around his head that softened his features. Despite your irritation, you couldn't help but notice the genuine innocence in his eyes, as if he truly had no intention of causing any harm — deep down, you were well aware that your anger was misdirected, though your pride didn’t let you back down.

“Anyway, I'm really sorry about earlier," he repeated, his voice gentle and sincere. "I know things got messed up, and it wasn’t fair to you."

The softness of his tone momentarily disarmed you, but you quickly remembered the frustration of being pushed aside. You folded your arms across your chest, maintaining your steely gaze. "It's not your fault, but that doesn't make it any less infuriating," you replied curtly, though a part of you felt a pang of guilt for being so harsh.

He nodded, understanding. "I get that. I really do. That's why I wanted to apologize properly." He held out the bag towards you, his eyes pleading for you to accept his peace offering.

You hesitated, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. Slowly, you reached for the bag, feeling the crinkle of the paper beneath your fingers. Peeking inside, you were met with a colorful assortment of convenience store sweets and chips. The sight was so unexpected that it momentarily broke through your anger, leaving you both surprised and amused.

“Hold on, what is this?” you asked, incredulous, pulling out a pack of sour candies and a bag of your favorite potato chips.

He lifted a shoulder into a half shrug, the motion causing his tousled hair to fall slightly over his forehead. A dark blush tinted the tips of his ears, standing out starkly against his pale skin. “I wasn’t really sure what you might like, so I got everything.”

You couldn't help but let out a disbelieving chuckle. The gesture was absurdly extravagant, almost comical, but undeniably thoughtful. Your gaze shifted from the bag to his face, taking in the earnestness in his eyes. The softness of his brown eyes, filled with a mix of anxiety and hope, caught you off guard. Despite the frustration and anger still simmering within you, the sincerity of his actions tugged at your heartstrings.

The gesture was ridiculous, you decided. But as your eyes finally locked with the softness of his brown ones, you couldn’t seem to ignore the swelling in your chest. The warmth of his gaze, combined with the blush that refused to leave his ears, chipped away at your resolve. A smile forced its way onto your lips despite your desire to maintain the angry mask.

“Well, I guess it’s a start,” you conceded, the corners of your mouth curling up despite your best efforts to remain stern.

He exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized he was holding, relief washing over his features. “I’m really sorry about today. It wasn’t fair to you, and I wanted to make it right, even if just a little.”

You sighed, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders. “It’s not your fault. It’s just... this industry, you know?”

He nodded, understanding evident in his eyes. “Yeah, I get it. It can be tough. But hey, at least you’ve got some snacks now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound lightening the oppressive atmosphere that had settled around you. “True. Thanks for that.”

He grinned, the boyish smile returning and making him look even more endearing as he took a seat in front of you. “Anytime.”

As the two of you continued to talk, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the park. The earlier tension seemed to dissipate, replaced by a tentative camaraderie that hinted at the possibility of something more. For the first time that day, you felt a glimmer of hope that things might just turn out okay.

박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON.

Under the soft glow of city lights and the gentle hum of midnight traffic, Sunghoon stood apprehensively at the entrance of a seemingly lavish apartment complex. The crumpled invitation from Jake was like a heavy weight in his pocket. An internal turmoil raged within him — whether to keep his promise to his friend and attend the gathering or to retreat to the comforting solitude of his bedroom. The flurry of potential outcomes made his head spin, leaving him frozen in place. He couldn’t help but notice the curious glances from the woman behind the front desk, her occasional head tilt suggesting she was trying to figure out what he was doing there, even as she returned her focus to her laptop.

Social gatherings had stopped being Sunghoon’s forte somewhere along the transition from his teenage years to his recent adulthood. Normally, he would have turned down Jake’s invitation without a second thought. But his mother’s worried voice echoed in his mind from their recent phone call, her concern palpable. “You used to have me worried sick every single night when you would go out to all these parties, and now you have me worried sick every night you tell me you’d rather isolate yourself in your room, love.”

Taking a deep breath, Sunghoon willed himself to move forward. The memory of his mother’s concern pushed him to break free from his self-imposed isolation. He finally pressed the buzzer, his heart racing. When the door clicked open, he stepped inside, feeling the unexpected warmth of the building wrap around him in a soothing manner. He sent Jake a quick text, letting him know he would be up in a minute or two.

The elevator ride to the top floor felt interminable, each second stretching out with mounting anxiety. When the doors slid open, he was met with Jake’s bright smile and slightly unfocused eyes. “You made it!” Jake exclaimed, pulling him into a quick hug. Sunghoon managed a smile, the familiar comfort of his currently tipsy friend easing some of his nerves.

As they walked down the corridor towards your apartment, Jake’s enthusiastic chatter filled the air. He rattled on about everyone who’d made it, the music, the food, and all the games he’d missed. Sunghoon tried to absorb some of his friend’s excitement, though part of him still longed to retreat to the safety of his room. The door to your apartment was slightly ajar, and lively music and intoxicated laughter spilled out into the hallway.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, with a soft, ambient glow from various lamps and candles. Sunghoon scanned the room, taking in the mix of vaguely familiar and unfamiliar faces. He was pleased to find only a small group present, just as Jake had promised. His eyes finally landed on you, who effortlessly commanded the room’s attention with a level of self-assurance Sunghoon could only yearn to achieve. As if sensing his eyes, you glanced in his direction, finally taking notice of their arrival before making your way over, a welcoming smile on your face that had Sunghoon’s stomach performing pirouettes.

“Jake, you’re back!” You cheered tipsily before focusing on the visibly anxious new guest, bowing as a polite greeting — an action immediately returned. “Is this the friend you told me about? Park Sunghoon?”

The way Sunghoon’s name rolled off your tongue with such sweetness had him reeling. Jake responded for him with an animated nod, slinging his arm around his friend’s shoulder despite being shorter.

“I’m very happy you were able to make it, Sunghoon!” You giggled lightly — a heavenly melody that tugged at Sunghoon’s erratic heart. “Please make yourself at home. There’s food and drinks over there,” you added, gesturing to a table laden with various treats.

As the evening progressed, Sunghoon found himself slowly relaxing, the initial tension easing away. Although he’d made the conscious decision not to consume any alcohol so that he would still be able to bring Jake and himself back home safely, he joined in the laughter, engaged in conversations with other idols, and sampled some of the food. Despite his initial reluctance, Sunghoon was beginning to enjoy himself.

During a lull in the conversations, Sunghoon found himself standing alone on the balcony, looking out over the city lights. The cool night air was a welcome respite from the warmth inside, and he took a moment to breathe deeply, savoring the tranquility. However, his head was tormented by thoughts of you as he almost obsessively replayed a mental film he’d recorded of you throughout the night, capturing candid scenes of you leaning against the wall while talking to one of your guests, sipping your drink between bursts of laughter, engaging in an impromptu dance competition with Jake, and the times he’d catch you watching him from the opposite side of the room with an unreadable expression before looking away timidly. These were memories he hoped to hold close to his heart even if the two of you never crossed paths again after this night. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear you approach until you stood beside him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You spoke softly, eyes fixed on the glittering skyline. Sunghoon nodded, feeling an electrifying jolt rush through his veins at the unexpectedness of your company, followed by a strange sense of calm that soothed the fresh spike of his anxiety. The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while — you simply enjoying the view, and him almost hearing the soft whirring of his mental camera as it recorded the moment for him to save.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” you eventually said, turning to face Sunghoon. There was something in your twinkling gaze that made Sunghoon’s heart skip a beat, an unspoken connection passing between you both.

“Me too,” Sunghoon replied, surprised to realize he meant it. As the two of you continued to talk, an unexpected warmth blossomed in his chest, sensing the creation of an unbreakable red thread that linked you to him. It was both thrilling and terrifying. For the first time in a long while, Sunghoon felt as though he was exactly where he was meant to be.

As the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves drifting away from the main party, your conversation deepening with each passing minute. You discovered shared interests and experiences, revealing parts of yourselves neither were usually eager to share with others. Sunghoon was captivated by the stories of your early days in the industry, the struggles and triumphs that mirrored his own journey.

There was a moment when the laughter died down, and the air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken words that neither of you was brave enough to voice out loud but both seemed to understand. Sunghoon looked into your eyes and felt a magnetic pull, an undeniable connection that made his heart race. He wondered if you felt it too, this strange and exhilarating sensation that was both new and familiar.

You broke the silence, voice soft and sincere. “You know, I’ve been where you are now. The isolation, the doubt…it can be overwhelming. But sometimes reaching out, even if it’s just for a night, can make all the difference. So I’m really glad you’re here tonight.”

Sunghoon nodded, a lump forming in his throat. “I didn’t expect to feel this way tonight,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, a warm and understanding expression that made Sunghoon’s heart flutter. “Neither did I,” you replied. “But I’m glad we both took the chance.”

The city lights continued to sparkle below you both, a silent witness to the beginning of something new. As the night drew to a close, Sunghoon knew that this had been more than just an ordinary gathering. It was the start of a bond that held the promise of something deeper, something that could change both of your lives forever.

김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO.

As the limousine pulled up to the grand entrance of the high-fashion show, Sunoo took a deep breath, steeling himself for the evening ahead. Being a part of a rapidly rising KPOP group, he was accustomed to the spotlight, but attending this event alone felt different. The opulent venue buzzed with the energy of the fashion elite, cameras flashing and voices blending into a hum of anticipation. 

Stepping out onto the red carpet, Sunoo was immediately enveloped by the dazzling lights and the flurry of activity. He straightened his impeccably tailored suit, aware of every eye on him. Yet, despite the familiar pressure, there was a unique thrill in the air tonight. As he prepared himself to move forward, his eyes were immediately drawn to a striking figure across from him — another idol, unknown to him, yet governing everyone’s attention with an effortless grace.

You strolled down the velvet red carpet, pausing every few steps to allow the photographers to capture the stunning design adorning your figure, which had been made especially for you. Your movements were fluid, each step exuding confidence and natural charm. As the ambassador for a rival brand, an impeccable aura of sophistication rolled off your skin with an ease that captivated Sunoo in an instant. The way the rays of the setting sun seemed to favor you, casting a perfect golden glow on your flawless features, made it impossible to look away.

Sunoo’s trance was disrupted by the heavy hand of the security guard who had kindly opened the limousine door a moment prior, silently urging him to make haste before the next celebrity arrived. He quickly gathered himself, offering a polite nod to the guard before making his way down the carpet. By the time Sunoo returned his gaze to where your mysterious essence had stood, he was surprised to find you already inside, leaving behind an air of secrecy that lingered in Sunoo’s mind.

Entering the grand hall, Sunoo was greeted by a sea of fashion icons, designers, and celebrities from all around the world mingling under the shimmering chandeliers. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the buzz of conversations and the clinking of champagne glasses. Yet, amidst the glamorous chaos, Sunoo’s thoughts kept drifting back to the enigmatic memory of you.

He navigated through the crowd, exchanging polite greetings and smiles, but his mind was elsewhere. The brief glimpse he had caught of you had sparked a curiosity he couldn’t shake as he found himself subconsciously searching for you. Who are you? What is your story? The questions swirled in Sunoo’s mind, adding a layer of intrigue to the already dazzling event.

As Sunoo settled into his seat, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show. The runway came to life with models showcasing the latest collections, each piece more stunning than the last. But even as the fashion show unfolded before him, Sunoo found his eyes wandering to the rows opposite him, searching for that familiar face.

And then, there you were. You were seated just a few rows away, attention fixed on the runway. Sunoo took the opportunity to observe you more closely, noting the confident way you carried yourself, the subtle elegance in your every movement. There was something magnetic about you, a presence that drew Sunoo in and refused to let go.

The fashion show progressed, each segment more captivating than the last, but for Sunoo, the true highlight was the possibility of a single minute with you. As the final model strutted down the runway and the audience erupted into applause, Sunoo knew he had to find a way to introduce himself. This night, under the dazzling lights of the fashion elite, gave him the unmistakable sensation that it might mark the beginning of something extraordinary — such a thing being yourself.

Following the fashion show, Sunoo took a moment to collect himself. The applause gradually subsided, and the room buzzed with excited chatter as attendees began to mingle and move toward the reception area. Sunoo’s heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nerves as he scanned the crowd, seeking another glimpse of you.

The hall was now a swirl of elegant gowns, tailored suits, and sparkling jewelry, with everyone engaged in animated conversations regarding the slew of unique designs they’d just witnessed. Sunoo made his way through the throng, offering polite smiles and hasty bows while his thoughts remained fixated on you. He couldn’t shake the sense of urgency, the need to introduce himself and learn about you who had so effortlessly stolen his sanity.

As he approached the bar, Sunoo finally spotted you standing near a cluster of fashion executives and designers. You were engrossed in conversation, your laughter echoing like a melody above the hum of the crowd. Sunoo hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage before making his way toward you.

Just as he was about to reach you, a voice called out his name. He turned to see his brand’s creative director, a smile on her face as she beckoned him over. Sunoo’s heart sank slightly, but he knew that ignoring her was not an option. With a polite bow, he approached her, engaging in a brief yet lively discussion about the evening’s show and their brand’s latest collection.

As soon as the conversation reached its natural end, Sunoo didn’t waste a second to glance back to where you had been, only to find you had moved on. Panic set in, though he took a deep breath, determined not to let the opportunity slip away. He began to weave through the crowd once more, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

Finally, he spotted you near the entrance to a quieter lounge area, a serene space with plush seating and soft lighting. Sunoo made his way over, his steps quickening as he neared you. He paused just a few feet away, taking yet another deep breath to steady his nerves.

“Excuse me,” Sunoo said, his voice somehow calm yet tinged with an anticipation you didn’t miss. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his with a curious, welcoming gaze that weakened his knees. “I couldn’t help but notice you during the show. I’m Sunoo, from Enhypen. It is a true honor to meet you.”

A smile spread across your face, genuine and warm. “Hello, Sunoo. I am Y/N from SM Entertainment. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

The conversation flowed easily from there, a mix of introductions, shared experiences, and mutual admiration for the evening’s fashion showcase. As the night wore on, the initial spark of intense curiosity between you grew into a deeper attachment. The surrounding chatter and movement seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of conversation and laughter.

By the time the evening came to an end, Sunoo knew that the unignorable sense of tonight marking a thrilling new beginning had been correct. As you exchanged contact information and made plans to meet again, there was an unspoken understanding that this thread that linked the two of you, born under the dazzling lights of the fashion elite, held the promise of something truly special.

양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON.

It had been an excruciatingly long time since Jungwon had danced purely for the joy of it, even if he kept this yearning to himself. He was well-aware of the sacrifices demanded by his career when he first started as a trainee, and he would make that commitment again without hesitation. Yet, the craving for dance, like a dormant ember, flared up intermittently, refusing to be extinguished by the relentless demands of his life.

At the moment, Jungwon felt an urgent need to escape, a desperate desire to retreat into solitude where he could breathe without the relentless pressure of work bearing down on him. The large headphones that had pressed into his ears for the duration of the recording session now hung around his neck, heavy with the weight of his mounting frustration. As he watched the producing team, whom he had come to know through each Enhypen album, huddled in private discussion, he felt increasingly isolated. The mics were off, their muted voices blending into an unwelcoming silence that amplified his sense of failure. He had repeated the same lines over and over since he first entered, unable to capture the performance they sought. It was baffling why something that should be simple had become so exasperatingly complex.

After what felt like an eternity, the producers nodded curtly at each other, signaling their agreement. They turned to Jungwon through the subtly tinted glass, their faces betraying a hint of resignation.

“Jungwon,” one of them sighed into the microphone, the voice slightly distorted as it came through the speakers. “I think we should try again next Monday. Please take this time to rest.”

Disappointment pierced through him like a cold, sharp blade. He slumped his shoulders, his gaze dropping to the floor as he gave a solemn nod. Swiftly, he removed his headphones and gathered his belongings. The room was filled with pitiful smiles from the team, but Jungwon was too eager to escape to notice. The confined space was stifling, and he was desperate for freedom. As he trudged down the nearly vacant corridors of the company building, his frustration simmered, bubbling up like molten lava, searing through him with each step.

He searched his mind for a place where he could be alone. Going home was not an option with half his members there, their typical boisterousness far from the sanctuary he craved. Restaurants and coffee shops were possibilities, but he lacked the appetite for anything. And then, as if the universe had taken pity on him, memories of hours spent dancing alone in the company’s dance rooms flooded his mind. It was enough to redirect his aimless wanderings. He made a beeline for the elevator, his steps quickening as excitement surged through him, a welcome escape from the stifling environment. He reveled in the knowledge that no one would question his whereabouts, believing him to still be at the recording booth.

With his heart pounding a rhythm of genuine elation, everything around him blurred into insignificance as he focused solely on his destination. The seconds stretched painfully as he awaited the elevator doors to open. The tip of his tongue seemed to taste the sweet promise of freedom as he finally reached the end of the hall, where the rarely used dance room stood, its door a familiar friend in his moment of need.

Had Jungwon not been so absorbed in his whirlwind of emotions, he might have noticed the soft strains of music emanating from within. Instead, he burst into the room, breathless, only to find himself frozen by the sight before him. There, bathed in the warm, gentle light, was you—dancing with a grace that seemed to defy the ordinary.

You were lost in your world, every movement flowing effortlessly with the tender rhythm of the music. There were no goals to reach, no steps to follow—just a pure expression of emotion that dripped from your every move. You danced as if the weight of the world had melted away, a blissful freedom that Jungwon hadn’t felt in ages. Your dance was a vivid reminder of what it was meant to be before fame had ever touched his life.

To Jungwon, who stood silently by the door, watching in awe, you were completely absorbed in your own realm. The peaceful, contented look on your face made it clear that you were in a moment of serene solitude. He tried to retreat quietly, but stumbled over his own feet, causing you to stop abruptly and turn toward him with wide, startled eyes.

In that instant, the world seemed to collapse around you both, leaving only the connection between your eyes and his. The silence stretched, laden with awkwardness, and you were the first to look away. Jungwon’s heart sank, wishing he could lose himself in your eyes forever.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice tentative. “I was just finishing up. I’ll get my stuff and leave.”

The last thing Jungwon wanted was for you to leave in such a rush. He was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions—entranced, confused, dazed, distressed—but the most powerful feeling was the undeniable pull toward you. You, who had suddenly appeared in his world, who moved with effortless grace like a bird in flight, and who had given him the briefest of smiles that seemed to halt his heartbeat. You were an enigma he felt destined to connect with, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Before you could slip past him, Jungwon found himself instinctively reaching out, his hand landing gently on your shoulder. The contact elicited soft gasps of surprise from both of you. His eyes locked onto yours, desperately trying to savor every detail of your features. He realized there might never be enough time to fully appreciate your beauty, but all he wanted was a single minute to bask in your presence. He was acutely aware of his own vulnerability as the desire to remain near you replaced his previous yearning for solitude.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen someone dance the way you just did,” he said, his voice barely audible. The blush that colored your cheeks was all the confirmation he needed that you heard him.

“Oh,” you blinked, caught off guard. “Thank you.”

“If you’re not busy,” Jungwon continued, though he was unsure of where his words would lead, “please stay.”

You studied his face, searching for sincerity and intent. Perhaps it was the raw desperation in his brown eyes or the electric tingle of his touch that convinced you. Whatever it was, you decided to stay, offering him a shy but genuine smile. Your heart raced as you noticed the dimples that appeared on his cheeks, a sign of his radiant smile.

And so you stayed. What began as a moment stretched into hours, then weeks, and eventually a lifetime. In that dance room, amidst the echoing melodies and fleeting moments, something truly extraordinary was born.

西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI.

In the bustling expanse of the airport lounge, the soft hum of conversations mingled with the distant announcements of flight departures provided a backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts in Ni-ki’s mind. Seated amongst  his fellow members, sought a fleeting moment of tranquility before their flight to Tokyo, the next stop on their concert tour. From such a young age, normalcy had been a distant concept, eclipsed by the relentless rush of performances and public appearances that left little room for peaceful introspection. The early morning departure had left them all groggy, their energy sapped by the unforgiving schedule that defined their lives.

Ni-ki leaned back in his seat, his eyes closing as he sought to capture a fleeting sense of peace amidst the chaos. The lounge, a hive of activity, was populated with travelers—some dozing off in their seats, others engrossed in their devices, and a few engaged in low murmurs of conversation. The atmosphere was a curious blend of anticipation and exhaustion, a microcosm of the frenetic life Ni-ki had come to know so well.

When Ni-ki opened his eyes, his gaze drifted across the room, taking in the varied faces of fellow travelers. His eyes settled on a vaguely recognizable group of young idols seated across the lounge, their presence unmistakable even amid the sea of people. Your group, though from a different agency, radiated a camaraderie and vibrant energy that felt oddly familiar. Among them, you stood out—a figure of serene poise amidst the lively chatter of your companions.

Ni-ki’s attention was drawn to you, his curiosity piqued by the quiet aura you exuded. There was a subtle grace in your demeanor that captivated him. You sat with large headphones covering your ears, occasionally glancing around the lounge as if seeking a moment of solitude amidst the bustling environment. Your hair fell gently over your eyes as you absentmindedly adjusted your oversized hoodie, a small, seemingly insignificant action that made you appear both approachable and endearingly shy.

Minutes stretched into an hour as you and Ni-ki waited for your respective flights. While his group members were absorbed in their own activities—some napping, others lost in games or music—Ni-ki found himself increasingly drawn to you. There was something magnetic about your presence, an unspoken allure that made his heart race each time your eyes briefly met. The pull he felt was inexplicable yet undeniable.

You possessed an effortless charm, a quiet confidence that set you apart from the crowd. Ni-ki found himself imagining what your voice might sound like, wondering what thoughts occupied your mind, and what music you might be listening to—all while grappling with his own doubts and shyness that held him back from approaching you. The mystery surrounding you only deepened Ni-ki’s fascination, turning mere curiosity into a profound longing to know more.

Across the lounge, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. At first, you thought it was a trick of your imagination, but the sensation persisted. Your sensitivity to the energy around you made Ni-ki’s gaze feel like a gentle but persistent tug. Despite your attempts to focus on your group’s animated conversation, your thoughts kept drifting back to the boy who seemed so captivated by you. You wondered what had caught his attention—was it your appearance? Clad in an oversized hoodie and leggings, with minimal makeup, you certainly didn't stand out in the traditional sense. Or was it your demeanor? You had done little more than sit quietly, attempting to conserve your energy and maintain a reserved presence. Though outwardly calm, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, adding to the enigma Ni-ki seemed drawn to.

Finally, a boarding announcement for a flight to Osaka broke Ni-ki’s reverie. He watched as your group began to gather their belongings, preparing to leave. A pang of disappointment struck him, realizing that his chance to approach you and strike up a conversation was slipping away. Just as he was about to redirect his attention back to his own group in a silent acceptance of defeat, he noticed you had lingered behind, your eyes meeting his for a brief, charged moment.

In that fleeting exchange, there was an unspoken connection, a shared understanding that transcended the chaos surrounding you both. You offered a small, almost shy smile before rejoining your group, leaving Ni-ki with a lingering sense of anticipation and curiosity. The way your eyes had held his, as if conveying a silent message, made his heart flutter with a strange, exhilarating hope.

As you followed your group to the boarding gate, you couldn't shake the feeling of Ni-ki’s eyes lingering on you. It was both thrilling and unnerving, sparking a curiosity of your own. In the subtlest way possible, you stole one last glance over your shoulder, finding Ni-ki still watching with an intensity that made your heart race. You smiled to yourself, wondering if fate might bring the two of you together again in the near future.

As you and your group disappeared through the boarding gate, Ni-ki was left contemplating the possibility of your paths crossing again—perhaps amidst the vibrant streets of Tokyo or in the backstage corridors of a concert venue. The brief interaction had left an indelible mark on him, a spark that refused to be extinguished by the routine of his life. Settling back into his seat, Ni-ki’s thoughts drifted back to you, imagining potential conversations, shared laughter, and the possibility of a burgeoning friendship—or hopefully something more—that could blossom in the most unexpected of places.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open!

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Post taglist: @llvrhee @d-dilemma

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

──★ 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( enhypen )

❛ In which you’re the idol who somehow snatched the members of Enhypen’s heart at first sight.

𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 8.8k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! All of the members are found below the cut! Enjoy! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Love at first sight trope, Idol Y/N AU, inconsistent POV, whether Y/N is a solo artist or a member of a group varies from member to member, lots of mentions of being stressed with work, Y/N in Jake’s piece has some negative opinions on the HYBE company (which doesn’t reflect my own personal opinions), Y/N and Sunghoon are drunk together but it’s all pretty mild, meet-cutes for all members except for Jake — his is more of a one-sided enemies-to-lovers trope, let me know if I missed anything!

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

이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG.

An exhausted sigh brushed past Heeseung's lips as he trudged into the empty elevator of his company building. With his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, he leaned heavily against the cold, metallic railing at the back of the enclosed space. The hum of the elevator's ascent seemed to echo his own weary thoughts, a turbulent mix of pride and anxiety swirling in his mind. Images of the countless posters featuring his face, alongside those of his members, plastered all over town flashed before his eyes. Despite the pride he felt in the fanbase Enhypen had garnered since their debut, a gnawing fear tugged at his heart — a fear that after all the sacrifices made for this new comeback, it might still fall short of expectations.

Lost in his own tumultuous sea of thoughts, Heeseung was jolted back to reality by the sudden chime of the elevator, signaling its stop. The sound snapped him from his reverie, and as the doors opened, he stumbled out onto the wrong floor, colliding gently with someone exiting the opposite way. His face flushed with embarrassment as he muttered a hasty apology, realizing he had disembarked prematurely. Flustered, he shoved his arm between the closing doors to force them open again, avoiding eye contact with the stranger who had witnessed his blunder. The mortification deepened as he heard the soft, amused chuckle from the person he’d bumped into.

In the brief moment of awkward silence that followed, your melodic voice broke through, catching Heeseung’s attention. “Aren’t you one of the members of Enhypen? Heeseung, right?”

His gaze, which had been fixed on the floor in embarrassment, hesitantly lifted to meet your bright eyes. The connection felt electric, as if a spotlight had suddenly focused on you, illuminating the exquisite details of your face. Heeseung was struck by an overwhelming sense of awe, his heart racing as he tried to gather his thoughts. Unfortunately, his voice seemed to have abandoned him completely, leaving him with no words other than a timid nod.

The smile that graced your lips was like a burst of sunshine, sending Heeseung’s heart into a whirl. Your eyes sparkled with genuine excitement, and he could almost feel the warmth of your enthusiasm radiating towards him. It was a small yet endearing display of your excitement that tugged at his heartstrings.

“I honestly can’t believe I’m meeting you,” you said, your voice bubbling with unfiltered joy. “I’ve already listened to every song on your new album, Romance: Untold, and it’s truly amazing. My favorite is definitely ‘Moonstruck’ — I’ve had it on repeat so much that it might be considered a bit of an obsession.”

Heeseung managed to curl the corners of his lips into a shy grin, chuckling softly at the sight of your unrestrained praise. Though his mind was still blank and his ability to articulate a response seemed impaired, the sight of you raving about his work was heartening. You didn’t seem to mind, as you turned your attention back to the slowly descending elevator, which gave Heeseung a clear view of your slightly flushed cheeks.

Suddenly, a realization seemed to hit you, causing your eyes to widen in a mixture of panic and embarrassment. “Oh no, I hope you don’t think I’m just a weird fan who snuck in here! I’m actually one of the members of a new group that debuted a few months ago. I’m the eldest member, actually. Um, I’m Y/N.” Your once bold and outgoing demeanor gave way to a nervous, stammering apology as you quickly rattled off your introduction. Heeseung couldn’t help but chuckle softly, the sight of your flustered state easing his own tension.

As if sensing your discomfort, the elevator doors slid open with a familiar chime, allowing you to bow hurriedly before slipping out of the confined space. Heeseung, feeling a sudden surge of determination, followed you into the lobby. His hand reached out, gently grabbing your wrist and bringing you to a stop. The startled look on your face, accompanied by your crimson cheeks, made Heeseung’s heart race. The way your eyes gleamed with curiosity and surprise left him breathless, and he felt a rush of courage to keep you from walking away.

“I – I really appreciate you enjoying our album,” he blurted out, his voice trembling slightly. His eyes darted around, searching for the right words to extend the fleeting moment. “I’ll admit that I haven’t heard your music yet, but... um, if you’re free now, maybe we could grab a coffee? I’d love to hear more about your group and listen to your stuff.”

The transformation in your expression was instantaneous. The soft gasp that escaped your lips, combined with your shy nod of agreement, filled Heeseung with an exhilarating sense of relief and excitement. If the thread of his life had been cut at that moment, he would have died the happiest man on earth. Your smile, so bright and genuine, breathed new life into his day, turning a simple encounter into something extraordinary.

박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG.

As the award show neared its conclusion, the atmosphere of genuine enjoyment gradually gave way to a palpable restlessness. Idols, exhausted from hours of watching performances and listening to repetitive acceptance speeches, were eager to leave.

Jay, seated among the sea of idols, found himself particularly conscious of the numerous cameras stationed around the venue. Each lens seemed to capture his every movement, broadcasting it to the fans watching from the comfort of their homes. Normally, he was accustomed to this constant scrutiny, but tonight felt different. The hours seemed to stretch interminably, and he watched as a parade of performers and winners he barely recognized took the stage.

His body ached from the relentless dance and vocal rehearsals leading up to their next comeback, the dull pain in his muscles a constant reminder of his exhaustion. Despite his best efforts to maintain a stoic expression for the sake of Engenes, Jay felt the strain, his neck twinging painfully with every attempt to relieve it.

The host, a familiar figure in a sharp suit, made his way to the center of the stage for the final time. Adjusting his tie with a practiced charm, he flashed a bright grin that could be seen even from the back rows. Jay barely registered the words as the emcee began his closing speech, his mind focused on the discomfort in his neck.

“What a night, what a night,” the host began, his voice tinged with rehearsed sentiment. “I can comfortably say that this will be an unforgettable evening for many — myself included.”

He paused, glancing around the audience with a knowing smile. “I know I’m supposed to end the night with a heartfelt speech, but we have one final surprise that I’m sure you’ll all enjoy — a special performance.”

Confusion rippled through the audience as murmurs filled the room. Jay furrowed his brows, intrigued yet weary.

“As you all know, there is a nationally beloved solo artist who has been on hiatus for seven months.” The anticipation in the room grew palpable. “Yes, you know exactly who I’m talking about! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back our one and only — Y/N!”

The moment you stepped onto the stage, the audience erupted in applause and cheers. Your emotional grin barely concealed the tears threatening to spill from the overwhelming support. For Jay, the world seemed to collapse in on itself, leaving only the ethereal vision of you. The simple act of walking and smiling was enough to leave him breathless.

As you took your place at the center of the stage, the music began, and the cheers gradually quieted. Every discomfort Jay had felt moments ago vanished as he watched you raise the microphone to your lips, your eyes turning into crescent moons with your unwavering smile.

Your voice was enchanting, filling every corner of the stadium and striking the hearts of everyone present with its raw emotion. Jay was no exception. He was captivated by the intensity and beauty of your performance, feeling every note resonate deeply within him. As the final gentle notes faded, tears you had held back began to roll down your cheeks, ruining your makeup but enhancing your vulnerability.

The audience's applause was deafening, a testament to their love and admiration. Despite the chaos, your heart swelled with gratitude at the sight of so many people celebrating your return.

The award show faded into a distant memory as you found yourself surrounded by people offering heartfelt praise and excitement. Your cheeks ached from smiling, but the bliss of the moment was worth every second. Faces blurred together as you moved from one conversation to the next, each interaction a reminder of how much you were loved and missed.

Throughout it all, Jay watched you from a distance, his group members having long since left. He desperately wanted to approach you but felt intimidated by the constant stream of admirers. Eventually, he resigned himself to the idea that he might not get the chance to express how profoundly your performance had affected him. With a heavy heart, he signaled to his bodyguard that he was ready to leave.

Outside the stadium, the noise of the city offered a reprieve from the weight of his celebrity persona. Jay enjoyed the simple act of watching cars pass by, lost in thought. He didn’t notice you until you sighed contentedly and took the empty spot beside him.

“Pretty night,” you said softly, your voice tender and soothing. Jay turned to you, stunned into silence by your presence. The fluttering in his stomach intensified.

In an effort to compose himself, he looked back at the road. “You must be tired,” he said, trying to sound casual. “After so long away from the spotlight, I mean.”

You giggled, a sound that squeezed his heart. “Blissfully drained.”

Jay chuckled, stealing a quick glance at you before returning his gaze forward. The comfortable silence between you was enough, each moment charged with unspoken emotions.

“You know,” you began, “I watched your performance from the dressing room. I really enjoyed it.”

The blush that crept up Jay’s ears was immediate, followed by a shy smile. Your compliment left him feeling both flustered and elated. You turned away slightly, your own cheeks flushed.

Before Jay could respond, a black Cadillac pulled up in front of him, signaling it was time to leave. Panic set in as he realized he hadn’t said everything he wanted to. You, however, seemed unfazed, your confident smirk never wavering.

“May our paths cross once more,” you said with a warm smile, taking a step back and waving.

Jay watched you disappear into the night, your words echoing in his mind. He hoped fervently that this wouldn't be the last time he saw you.

심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN.

Amidst the cacophony of angry voices clashing like a storm, your blood boiled at the pure entitlement of the people standing before you. You'd barely managed to set your bag down on the leather couch of the recording studio you had waited weeks to finally use when the door burst open, revealing the breathless mess of a manager responsible for some boy group you couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge. He claimed that there had been an error in the schedule for the room, that it was supposedly meant to be occupied by his group—never mind the fact that your name had been very clearly stated in the timesheet for weeks.

The sour taste on your tongue intensified as soon as you noticed a group of six boys hesitantly approaching the tense situation, led by a younger-looking boy with almost cartoonishly big doe eyes. His brows furrowed as he tried to decipher the not-so-clean words being exchanged between both teams. Letting your own manager handle the mess, you remained seated on the couch with your arms folded over your chest, hoping you'd be compensated for the reserved time you'd lost to this fiasco, though you were almost certain you wouldn't be.

Somehow maneuvering themselves around the strife, the newcomers entered the recording room, only to awkwardly stand before you as if expecting you to explain the situation. Despite your clear distaste, you let your hands fall limply onto your lap with a frustrated sigh.

"I reserved this room for today weeks ago," you said, the acidity in your tone unmistakable. None of the boys seemed too bothered by it as they continued to watch you intently. "Your manager, however, decided it would be a good idea to waste everyone's time by claiming there must have been some kind of oversight since apparently he also reserved this exact time for you guys."

"Uh, I think there might have really been a misunderstanding since we were also set to record here," Doe-Eyes responded quickly, glancing back towards his manager anxiously as if unsure of his own words. You couldn't help but scoff and roll your eyes.

Pulling your phone out of your back pocket, you didn't try to hide the incredulous shake of your head. Once you found the confirmation email you’d received upon booking the studio, you turned your screen so that all six boys could read. “Unless you also have an email similar to this— which, by the way, your manager has failed to show us instead of calling his boss—then I don’t think there’s really any room to call this a ‘misunderstanding’.”

Almost immediately, Doe-Eyes pulled his own phone out of the pocket of his hoodie, hurriedly scrolling through it while taking a seat a little further down the same couch you'd been glued to for the past twenty minutes. The rest of the members didn’t seem to have anything else to say as they either pursed their lips awkwardly or whispered amongst themselves, their furrowed brows signaling their own concerns about what it would mean for them if you were to keep the studio. And although you were confident that you and your team had done everything right, you were barely able to suppress your own fear of being left high and dry. It wasn’t uncommon for solo artists such as yourself to have no other alternative than to fight tooth and nail for fair treatment in an industry with a clear preference for boy groups like the ones present at the moment—and the company you were currently working for was really no different, as evidenced by the infuriating stories shared by the painfully sparse number of solo artists you’d met in this very building.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Doe-Eyes whipped his head around as though looking for someone. “Where’s Jake?”

The other members uselessly copied their friend’s action, shrugging silently. “I think he was talking with his mom on the phone when we left, but he said he wouldn’t be too long.”

Almost as if the act of voicing his name could summon him, a very disheveled seventh boy skidded to a halt behind the ongoing commotion taking place right outside the studio. His eyes widened in bewilderment as he processed the admittedly rare scene unfolding before him. His attention quickly shifted to the group of idols crowding the already confined space as one of the members waved at him to join them, a silent command that didn’t need to be repeated as he squeezed his way inside. Once he made it past the door, he hunched over breathlessly, a string of gibberish pouring out of his mouth as he tried to explain his tardiness—not a single word of it being even remotely comprehensible to you.

Ultimately, the boy’s excuses didn’t matter as everyone’s attention was drawn to the familiar authoritative figure who finally made his appearance (as requested by the boys’ manager) to solve the ridiculous dilemma, the typical severe expression etched onto his face. You tried to brush aside your rising anxiety to no avail, your leg subconsciously bouncing up and down.

While your mind raced with worst-case scenarios, Jake—the boy who’d just arrived—found himself stilled by the mere sight of you. Encircled by a heavenly bubble that seemed to drown out his surroundings, he found himself captivated by the worry tainting what he was positive would otherwise be the most heart-mangling pair of eyes he’d ever seen. Even with your entire essence emanating a mixture of irritation and anxiety, Jake was sure his eyes would never find anything or anyone that could compare to the profoundness of your beauty. He almost questioned if you were real, or if he had lost his sanity to a sweet hallucination, though he quickly pushed the idea out of his mind for fear of losing sight of you.

“Hi.” It was all that Jake could muster, hoping his heart wouldn’t suddenly stop when your weary eyes landed on him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

Several conflicting emotions passed through your face as you tried to make sense of the unexpected contrast between the serious situation and his dazed expression. In the end, all you could do was scoff nastily at his lack of ability to read the room, a reaction that still made Jake feel as though he could levitate since your simple acknowledgment of his existence was enough for him to obsess over for the rest of his lifetime.

The sight of the newcomer was almost ridiculous as you shifted in your seat almost uncomfortably, unable to understand what could possibly be going through his mind.

“Okay, let’s do this.” The authoritarian voice of your superior was enough to drag your attention away from the oddity of this boy. “Since Enhypen’s comeback is set at a sooner date, I suggest Y/N allow them to use the room first. I’ll be sure to postpone the reservations of the people meant to come here today or tomorrow. That is my final say on the matter.”

He raised his hand in a stern manner the moment he noticed you quickly jumping to your feet to argue, immediately shutting you up as your lips curled into a disgruntled snarl. Even though a part of you had predicted this outcome, you still couldn’t believe it as your eyes found the familiar pair belonging to your exhausted manager.

Since it was clear that you and your team had no other option but to pack up what little had been set up before this whole fiasco began, you begrudgingly snatched your bag to sling over your shoulder—though not before scowling in the boys’ direction, causing them to wince back. Except for Jake, who annoyingly remained in his spot, smiling stupidly at you.

Hours after being kicked out of your own appointment, you found yourself sitting alone under the shade of a large tree at a nearby park. Bitterness still possessed your heart despite coming here to calm yourself in the comforting alternative universe that only seemed to exist in this very spot, usually waiting for your return whenever life took a rough turn. Every other time, the gentle kisses of the wind against your skin, the delicious warmth that dwelled just under the surface of the ground, or the simple serenity that washed over your troubled mind as you listened to the natural melody of small animals and children playing would immediately comfort you. However, your little piece of paradise did not spare any mercy for you today. The chilly wind nipped at your reddened cheeks and nose, the ground beneath you was still moist from the light rain of the previous day, and all you could hear were the exhaustive sounds of distant traffic and the robotic voices of business people on their phones. Your little piece of paradise, your alternative universe hidden in plain sight, had become distressingly bleak.

You were just about to abandon your spot, the disappointment becoming overwhelming to the point of blurring your vision with unshed tears, when the sound of cautious footsteps from behind alerted you. Breath catching in your throat at the thought of what could possibly happen, you hoped whoever was approaching would just walk past and prove you to be foolishly paranoid.

“You hide well, Y/N.”

The sinister words unmistakably belonging to a man hung in the air, making you consider breaking into a run—or perhaps attempting to kick him in the knees to temporarily incapacitate him and give you more time to escape. A million thoughts stormed through your head as your heartbeat picked up.

“I’m sorry about what happened with the studio.” The specificity of the man’s apology made you pause. You noted that he had stopped moving, evidently standing just a foot or two away from you. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. “After you and your team left, I was finally told what went down, and I felt guilty. Obviously, you have every right to be upset considering your name was the only one that appeared to be scheduled.”

Only a moment passed before the owner of the mysterious voice stood before you, sporting a shy smile while holding a brown paper bag close to his chest. It was the boy who had arrived late to the recording session, the one with the dazed look in his eyes — the same one still present as he looked down at your sitting figure. His presence reignited the smoldering anger you’d managed to suppress over the past few hours. You didn't bother holding back the immediate glare directed at him, a glare that would have made anyone else shrink back. But he seemed unfazed, his smile only growing into a full, boyish grin that vaguely reminded you of a Golden Retriever, with an infectious warmth that was hard to ignore.

He stood there, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the bag crinkling slightly in his grip. His tousled hair caught the last rays of the setting sun, creating a halo effect around his head that softened his features. Despite your irritation, you couldn't help but notice the genuine innocence in his eyes, as if he truly had no intention of causing any harm — deep down, you were well aware that your anger was misdirected, though your pride didn’t let you back down.

“Anyway, I'm really sorry about earlier," he repeated, his voice gentle and sincere. "I know things got messed up, and it wasn’t fair to you."

The softness of his tone momentarily disarmed you, but you quickly remembered the frustration of being pushed aside. You folded your arms across your chest, maintaining your steely gaze. "It's not your fault, but that doesn't make it any less infuriating," you replied curtly, though a part of you felt a pang of guilt for being so harsh.

He nodded, understanding. "I get that. I really do. That's why I wanted to apologize properly." He held out the bag towards you, his eyes pleading for you to accept his peace offering.

You hesitated, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. Slowly, you reached for the bag, feeling the crinkle of the paper beneath your fingers. Peeking inside, you were met with a colorful assortment of convenience store sweets and chips. The sight was so unexpected that it momentarily broke through your anger, leaving you both surprised and amused.

“Hold on, what is this?” you asked, incredulous, pulling out a pack of sour candies and a bag of your favorite potato chips.

He lifted a shoulder into a half shrug, the motion causing his tousled hair to fall slightly over his forehead. A dark blush tinted the tips of his ears, standing out starkly against his pale skin. “I wasn’t really sure what you might like, so I got everything.”

You couldn't help but let out a disbelieving chuckle. The gesture was absurdly extravagant, almost comical, but undeniably thoughtful. Your gaze shifted from the bag to his face, taking in the earnestness in his eyes. The softness of his brown eyes, filled with a mix of anxiety and hope, caught you off guard. Despite the frustration and anger still simmering within you, the sincerity of his actions tugged at your heartstrings.

The gesture was ridiculous, you decided. But as your eyes finally locked with the softness of his brown ones, you couldn’t seem to ignore the swelling in your chest. The warmth of his gaze, combined with the blush that refused to leave his ears, chipped away at your resolve. A smile forced its way onto your lips despite your desire to maintain the angry mask.

“Well, I guess it’s a start,” you conceded, the corners of your mouth curling up despite your best efforts to remain stern.

He exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized he was holding, relief washing over his features. “I’m really sorry about today. It wasn’t fair to you, and I wanted to make it right, even if just a little.”

You sighed, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders. “It’s not your fault. It’s just... this industry, you know?”

He nodded, understanding evident in his eyes. “Yeah, I get it. It can be tough. But hey, at least you’ve got some snacks now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound lightening the oppressive atmosphere that had settled around you. “True. Thanks for that.”

He grinned, the boyish smile returning and making him look even more endearing as he took a seat in front of you. “Anytime.”

As the two of you continued to talk, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the park. The earlier tension seemed to dissipate, replaced by a tentative camaraderie that hinted at the possibility of something more. For the first time that day, you felt a glimmer of hope that things might just turn out okay.

박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON.

Under the soft glow of city lights and the gentle hum of midnight traffic, Sunghoon stood apprehensively at the entrance of a seemingly lavish apartment complex. The crumpled invitation from Jake was like a heavy weight in his pocket. An internal turmoil raged within him — whether to keep his promise to his friend and attend the gathering or to retreat to the comforting solitude of his bedroom. The flurry of potential outcomes made his head spin, leaving him frozen in place. He couldn’t help but notice the curious glances from the woman behind the front desk, her occasional head tilt suggesting she was trying to figure out what he was doing there, even as she returned her focus to her laptop.

Social gatherings had stopped being Sunghoon’s forte somewhere along the transition from his teenage years to his recent adulthood. Normally, he would have turned down Jake’s invitation without a second thought. But his mother’s worried voice echoed in his mind from their recent phone call, her concern palpable. “You used to have me worried sick every single night when you would go out to all these parties, and now you have me worried sick every night you tell me you’d rather isolate yourself in your room, love.”

Taking a deep breath, Sunghoon willed himself to move forward. The memory of his mother’s concern pushed him to break free from his self-imposed isolation. He finally pressed the buzzer, his heart racing. When the door clicked open, he stepped inside, feeling the unexpected warmth of the building wrap around him in a soothing manner. He sent Jake a quick text, letting him know he would be up in a minute or two.

The elevator ride to the top floor felt interminable, each second stretching out with mounting anxiety. When the doors slid open, he was met with Jake’s bright smile and slightly unfocused eyes. “You made it!” Jake exclaimed, pulling him into a quick hug. Sunghoon managed a smile, the familiar comfort of his currently tipsy friend easing some of his nerves.

As they walked down the corridor towards your apartment, Jake’s enthusiastic chatter filled the air. He rattled on about everyone who’d made it, the music, the food, and all the games he’d missed. Sunghoon tried to absorb some of his friend’s excitement, though part of him still longed to retreat to the safety of his room. The door to your apartment was slightly ajar, and lively music and intoxicated laughter spilled out into the hallway.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, with a soft, ambient glow from various lamps and candles. Sunghoon scanned the room, taking in the mix of vaguely familiar and unfamiliar faces. He was pleased to find only a small group present, just as Jake had promised. His eyes finally landed on you, who effortlessly commanded the room’s attention with a level of self-assurance Sunghoon could only yearn to achieve. As if sensing his eyes, you glanced in his direction, finally taking notice of their arrival before making your way over, a welcoming smile on your face that had Sunghoon’s stomach performing pirouettes.

“Jake, you’re back!” You cheered tipsily before focusing on the visibly anxious new guest, bowing as a polite greeting — an action immediately returned. “Is this the friend you told me about? Park Sunghoon?”

The way Sunghoon’s name rolled off your tongue with such sweetness had him reeling. Jake responded for him with an animated nod, slinging his arm around his friend’s shoulder despite being shorter.

“I’m very happy you were able to make it, Sunghoon!” You giggled lightly — a heavenly melody that tugged at Sunghoon’s erratic heart. “Please make yourself at home. There’s food and drinks over there,” you added, gesturing to a table laden with various treats.

As the evening progressed, Sunghoon found himself slowly relaxing, the initial tension easing away. Although he’d made the conscious decision not to consume any alcohol so that he would still be able to bring Jake and himself back home safely, he joined in the laughter, engaged in conversations with other idols, and sampled some of the food. Despite his initial reluctance, Sunghoon was beginning to enjoy himself.

During a lull in the conversations, Sunghoon found himself standing alone on the balcony, looking out over the city lights. The cool night air was a welcome respite from the warmth inside, and he took a moment to breathe deeply, savoring the tranquility. However, his head was tormented by thoughts of you as he almost obsessively replayed a mental film he’d recorded of you throughout the night, capturing candid scenes of you leaning against the wall while talking to one of your guests, sipping your drink between bursts of laughter, engaging in an impromptu dance competition with Jake, and the times he’d catch you watching him from the opposite side of the room with an unreadable expression before looking away timidly. These were memories he hoped to hold close to his heart even if the two of you never crossed paths again after this night. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear you approach until you stood beside him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You spoke softly, eyes fixed on the glittering skyline. Sunghoon nodded, feeling an electrifying jolt rush through his veins at the unexpectedness of your company, followed by a strange sense of calm that soothed the fresh spike of his anxiety. The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while — you simply enjoying the view, and him almost hearing the soft whirring of his mental camera as it recorded the moment for him to save.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” you eventually said, turning to face Sunghoon. There was something in your twinkling gaze that made Sunghoon’s heart skip a beat, an unspoken connection passing between you both.

“Me too,” Sunghoon replied, surprised to realize he meant it. As the two of you continued to talk, an unexpected warmth blossomed in his chest, sensing the creation of an unbreakable red thread that linked you to him. It was both thrilling and terrifying. For the first time in a long while, Sunghoon felt as though he was exactly where he was meant to be.

As the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves drifting away from the main party, your conversation deepening with each passing minute. You discovered shared interests and experiences, revealing parts of yourselves neither were usually eager to share with others. Sunghoon was captivated by the stories of your early days in the industry, the struggles and triumphs that mirrored his own journey.

There was a moment when the laughter died down, and the air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken words that neither of you was brave enough to voice out loud but both seemed to understand. Sunghoon looked into your eyes and felt a magnetic pull, an undeniable connection that made his heart race. He wondered if you felt it too, this strange and exhilarating sensation that was both new and familiar.

You broke the silence, voice soft and sincere. “You know, I’ve been where you are now. The isolation, the doubt…it can be overwhelming. But sometimes reaching out, even if it’s just for a night, can make all the difference. So I’m really glad you’re here tonight.”

Sunghoon nodded, a lump forming in his throat. “I didn’t expect to feel this way tonight,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, a warm and understanding expression that made Sunghoon’s heart flutter. “Neither did I,” you replied. “But I’m glad we both took the chance.”

The city lights continued to sparkle below you both, a silent witness to the beginning of something new. As the night drew to a close, Sunghoon knew that this had been more than just an ordinary gathering. It was the start of a bond that held the promise of something deeper, something that could change both of your lives forever.

김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO.

As the limousine pulled up to the grand entrance of the high-fashion show, Sunoo took a deep breath, steeling himself for the evening ahead. Being a part of a rapidly rising KPOP group, he was accustomed to the spotlight, but attending this event alone felt different. The opulent venue buzzed with the energy of the fashion elite, cameras flashing and voices blending into a hum of anticipation. 

Stepping out onto the red carpet, Sunoo was immediately enveloped by the dazzling lights and the flurry of activity. He straightened his impeccably tailored suit, aware of every eye on him. Yet, despite the familiar pressure, there was a unique thrill in the air tonight. As he prepared himself to move forward, his eyes were immediately drawn to a striking figure across from him — another idol, unknown to him, yet governing everyone’s attention with an effortless grace.

You strolled down the velvet red carpet, pausing every few steps to allow the photographers to capture the stunning design adorning your figure, which had been made especially for you. Your movements were fluid, each step exuding confidence and natural charm. As the ambassador for a rival brand, an impeccable aura of sophistication rolled off your skin with an ease that captivated Sunoo in an instant. The way the rays of the setting sun seemed to favor you, casting a perfect golden glow on your flawless features, made it impossible to look away.

Sunoo’s trance was disrupted by the heavy hand of the security guard who had kindly opened the limousine door a moment prior, silently urging him to make haste before the next celebrity arrived. He quickly gathered himself, offering a polite nod to the guard before making his way down the carpet. By the time Sunoo returned his gaze to where your mysterious essence had stood, he was surprised to find you already inside, leaving behind an air of secrecy that lingered in Sunoo’s mind.

Entering the grand hall, Sunoo was greeted by a sea of fashion icons, designers, and celebrities from all around the world mingling under the shimmering chandeliers. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the buzz of conversations and the clinking of champagne glasses. Yet, amidst the glamorous chaos, Sunoo’s thoughts kept drifting back to the enigmatic memory of you.

He navigated through the crowd, exchanging polite greetings and smiles, but his mind was elsewhere. The brief glimpse he had caught of you had sparked a curiosity he couldn’t shake as he found himself subconsciously searching for you. Who are you? What is your story? The questions swirled in Sunoo’s mind, adding a layer of intrigue to the already dazzling event.

As Sunoo settled into his seat, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show. The runway came to life with models showcasing the latest collections, each piece more stunning than the last. But even as the fashion show unfolded before him, Sunoo found his eyes wandering to the rows opposite him, searching for that familiar face.

And then, there you were. You were seated just a few rows away, attention fixed on the runway. Sunoo took the opportunity to observe you more closely, noting the confident way you carried yourself, the subtle elegance in your every movement. There was something magnetic about you, a presence that drew Sunoo in and refused to let go.

The fashion show progressed, each segment more captivating than the last, but for Sunoo, the true highlight was the possibility of a single minute with you. As the final model strutted down the runway and the audience erupted into applause, Sunoo knew he had to find a way to introduce himself. This night, under the dazzling lights of the fashion elite, gave him the unmistakable sensation that it might mark the beginning of something extraordinary — such a thing being yourself.

Following the fashion show, Sunoo took a moment to collect himself. The applause gradually subsided, and the room buzzed with excited chatter as attendees began to mingle and move toward the reception area. Sunoo’s heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nerves as he scanned the crowd, seeking another glimpse of you.

The hall was now a swirl of elegant gowns, tailored suits, and sparkling jewelry, with everyone engaged in animated conversations regarding the slew of unique designs they’d just witnessed. Sunoo made his way through the throng, offering polite smiles and hasty bows while his thoughts remained fixated on you. He couldn’t shake the sense of urgency, the need to introduce himself and learn about you who had so effortlessly stolen his sanity.

As he approached the bar, Sunoo finally spotted you standing near a cluster of fashion executives and designers. You were engrossed in conversation, your laughter echoing like a melody above the hum of the crowd. Sunoo hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage before making his way toward you.

Just as he was about to reach you, a voice called out his name. He turned to see his brand’s creative director, a smile on her face as she beckoned him over. Sunoo’s heart sank slightly, but he knew that ignoring her was not an option. With a polite bow, he approached her, engaging in a brief yet lively discussion about the evening’s show and their brand’s latest collection.

As soon as the conversation reached its natural end, Sunoo didn’t waste a second to glance back to where you had been, only to find you had moved on. Panic set in, though he took a deep breath, determined not to let the opportunity slip away. He began to weave through the crowd once more, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

Finally, he spotted you near the entrance to a quieter lounge area, a serene space with plush seating and soft lighting. Sunoo made his way over, his steps quickening as he neared you. He paused just a few feet away, taking yet another deep breath to steady his nerves.

“Excuse me,” Sunoo said, his voice somehow calm yet tinged with an anticipation you didn’t miss. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his with a curious, welcoming gaze that weakened his knees. “I couldn’t help but notice you during the show. I’m Sunoo, from Enhypen. It is a true honor to meet you.”

A smile spread across your face, genuine and warm. “Hello, Sunoo. I am Y/N from SM Entertainment. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

The conversation flowed easily from there, a mix of introductions, shared experiences, and mutual admiration for the evening’s fashion showcase. As the night wore on, the initial spark of intense curiosity between you grew into a deeper attachment. The surrounding chatter and movement seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of conversation and laughter.

By the time the evening came to an end, Sunoo knew that the unignorable sense of tonight marking a thrilling new beginning had been correct. As you exchanged contact information and made plans to meet again, there was an unspoken understanding that this thread that linked the two of you, born under the dazzling lights of the fashion elite, held the promise of something truly special.

양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON.

It had been an excruciatingly long time since Jungwon had danced purely for the joy of it, even if he kept this yearning to himself. He was well-aware of the sacrifices demanded by his career when he first started as a trainee, and he would make that commitment again without hesitation. Yet, the craving for dance, like a dormant ember, flared up intermittently, refusing to be extinguished by the relentless demands of his life.

At the moment, Jungwon felt an urgent need to escape, a desperate desire to retreat into solitude where he could breathe without the relentless pressure of work bearing down on him. The large headphones that had pressed into his ears for the duration of the recording session now hung around his neck, heavy with the weight of his mounting frustration. As he watched the producing team, whom he had come to know through each Enhypen album, huddled in private discussion, he felt increasingly isolated. The mics were off, their muted voices blending into an unwelcoming silence that amplified his sense of failure. He had repeated the same lines over and over since he first entered, unable to capture the performance they sought. It was baffling why something that should be simple had become so exasperatingly complex.

After what felt like an eternity, the producers nodded curtly at each other, signaling their agreement. They turned to Jungwon through the subtly tinted glass, their faces betraying a hint of resignation.

“Jungwon,” one of them sighed into the microphone, the voice slightly distorted as it came through the speakers. “I think we should try again next Monday. Please take this time to rest.”

Disappointment pierced through him like a cold, sharp blade. He slumped his shoulders, his gaze dropping to the floor as he gave a solemn nod. Swiftly, he removed his headphones and gathered his belongings. The room was filled with pitiful smiles from the team, but Jungwon was too eager to escape to notice. The confined space was stifling, and he was desperate for freedom. As he trudged down the nearly vacant corridors of the company building, his frustration simmered, bubbling up like molten lava, searing through him with each step.

He searched his mind for a place where he could be alone. Going home was not an option with half his members there, their typical boisterousness far from the sanctuary he craved. Restaurants and coffee shops were possibilities, but he lacked the appetite for anything. And then, as if the universe had taken pity on him, memories of hours spent dancing alone in the company’s dance rooms flooded his mind. It was enough to redirect his aimless wanderings. He made a beeline for the elevator, his steps quickening as excitement surged through him, a welcome escape from the stifling environment. He reveled in the knowledge that no one would question his whereabouts, believing him to still be at the recording booth.

With his heart pounding a rhythm of genuine elation, everything around him blurred into insignificance as he focused solely on his destination. The seconds stretched painfully as he awaited the elevator doors to open. The tip of his tongue seemed to taste the sweet promise of freedom as he finally reached the end of the hall, where the rarely used dance room stood, its door a familiar friend in his moment of need.

Had Jungwon not been so absorbed in his whirlwind of emotions, he might have noticed the soft strains of music emanating from within. Instead, he burst into the room, breathless, only to find himself frozen by the sight before him. There, bathed in the warm, gentle light, was you—dancing with a grace that seemed to defy the ordinary.

You were lost in your world, every movement flowing effortlessly with the tender rhythm of the music. There were no goals to reach, no steps to follow—just a pure expression of emotion that dripped from your every move. You danced as if the weight of the world had melted away, a blissful freedom that Jungwon hadn’t felt in ages. Your dance was a vivid reminder of what it was meant to be before fame had ever touched his life.

To Jungwon, who stood silently by the door, watching in awe, you were completely absorbed in your own realm. The peaceful, contented look on your face made it clear that you were in a moment of serene solitude. He tried to retreat quietly, but stumbled over his own feet, causing you to stop abruptly and turn toward him with wide, startled eyes.

In that instant, the world seemed to collapse around you both, leaving only the connection between your eyes and his. The silence stretched, laden with awkwardness, and you were the first to look away. Jungwon’s heart sank, wishing he could lose himself in your eyes forever.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice tentative. “I was just finishing up. I’ll get my stuff and leave.”

The last thing Jungwon wanted was for you to leave in such a rush. He was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions—entranced, confused, dazed, distressed—but the most powerful feeling was the undeniable pull toward you. You, who had suddenly appeared in his world, who moved with effortless grace like a bird in flight, and who had given him the briefest of smiles that seemed to halt his heartbeat. You were an enigma he felt destined to connect with, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Before you could slip past him, Jungwon found himself instinctively reaching out, his hand landing gently on your shoulder. The contact elicited soft gasps of surprise from both of you. His eyes locked onto yours, desperately trying to savor every detail of your features. He realized there might never be enough time to fully appreciate your beauty, but all he wanted was a single minute to bask in your presence. He was acutely aware of his own vulnerability as the desire to remain near you replaced his previous yearning for solitude.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen someone dance the way you just did,” he said, his voice barely audible. The blush that colored your cheeks was all the confirmation he needed that you heard him.

“Oh,” you blinked, caught off guard. “Thank you.”

“If you’re not busy,” Jungwon continued, though he was unsure of where his words would lead, “please stay.”

You studied his face, searching for sincerity and intent. Perhaps it was the raw desperation in his brown eyes or the electric tingle of his touch that convinced you. Whatever it was, you decided to stay, offering him a shy but genuine smile. Your heart raced as you noticed the dimples that appeared on his cheeks, a sign of his radiant smile.

And so you stayed. What began as a moment stretched into hours, then weeks, and eventually a lifetime. In that dance room, amidst the echoing melodies and fleeting moments, something truly extraordinary was born.

西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI.

In the bustling expanse of the airport lounge, the soft hum of conversations mingled with the distant announcements of flight departures provided a backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts in Ni-ki’s mind. Seated amongst  his fellow members, sought a fleeting moment of tranquility before their flight to Tokyo, the next stop on their concert tour. From such a young age, normalcy had been a distant concept, eclipsed by the relentless rush of performances and public appearances that left little room for peaceful introspection. The early morning departure had left them all groggy, their energy sapped by the unforgiving schedule that defined their lives.

Ni-ki leaned back in his seat, his eyes closing as he sought to capture a fleeting sense of peace amidst the chaos. The lounge, a hive of activity, was populated with travelers—some dozing off in their seats, others engrossed in their devices, and a few engaged in low murmurs of conversation. The atmosphere was a curious blend of anticipation and exhaustion, a microcosm of the frenetic life Ni-ki had come to know so well.

When Ni-ki opened his eyes, his gaze drifted across the room, taking in the varied faces of fellow travelers. His eyes settled on a vaguely recognizable group of young idols seated across the lounge, their presence unmistakable even amid the sea of people. Your group, though from a different agency, radiated a camaraderie and vibrant energy that felt oddly familiar. Among them, you stood out—a figure of serene poise amidst the lively chatter of your companions.

Ni-ki’s attention was drawn to you, his curiosity piqued by the quiet aura you exuded. There was a subtle grace in your demeanor that captivated him. You sat with large headphones covering your ears, occasionally glancing around the lounge as if seeking a moment of solitude amidst the bustling environment. Your hair fell gently over your eyes as you absentmindedly adjusted your oversized hoodie, a small, seemingly insignificant action that made you appear both approachable and endearingly shy.

Minutes stretched into an hour as you and Ni-ki waited for your respective flights. While his group members were absorbed in their own activities—some napping, others lost in games or music—Ni-ki found himself increasingly drawn to you. There was something magnetic about your presence, an unspoken allure that made his heart race each time your eyes briefly met. The pull he felt was inexplicable yet undeniable.

You possessed an effortless charm, a quiet confidence that set you apart from the crowd. Ni-ki found himself imagining what your voice might sound like, wondering what thoughts occupied your mind, and what music you might be listening to—all while grappling with his own doubts and shyness that held him back from approaching you. The mystery surrounding you only deepened Ni-ki’s fascination, turning mere curiosity into a profound longing to know more.

Across the lounge, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. At first, you thought it was a trick of your imagination, but the sensation persisted. Your sensitivity to the energy around you made Ni-ki’s gaze feel like a gentle but persistent tug. Despite your attempts to focus on your group’s animated conversation, your thoughts kept drifting back to the boy who seemed so captivated by you. You wondered what had caught his attention—was it your appearance? Clad in an oversized hoodie and leggings, with minimal makeup, you certainly didn't stand out in the traditional sense. Or was it your demeanor? You had done little more than sit quietly, attempting to conserve your energy and maintain a reserved presence. Though outwardly calm, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, adding to the enigma Ni-ki seemed drawn to.

Finally, a boarding announcement for a flight to Osaka broke Ni-ki’s reverie. He watched as your group began to gather their belongings, preparing to leave. A pang of disappointment struck him, realizing that his chance to approach you and strike up a conversation was slipping away. Just as he was about to redirect his attention back to his own group in a silent acceptance of defeat, he noticed you had lingered behind, your eyes meeting his for a brief, charged moment.

In that fleeting exchange, there was an unspoken connection, a shared understanding that transcended the chaos surrounding you both. You offered a small, almost shy smile before rejoining your group, leaving Ni-ki with a lingering sense of anticipation and curiosity. The way your eyes had held his, as if conveying a silent message, made his heart flutter with a strange, exhilarating hope.

As you followed your group to the boarding gate, you couldn't shake the feeling of Ni-ki’s eyes lingering on you. It was both thrilling and unnerving, sparking a curiosity of your own. In the subtlest way possible, you stole one last glance over your shoulder, finding Ni-ki still watching with an intensity that made your heart race. You smiled to yourself, wondering if fate might bring the two of you together again in the near future.

As you and your group disappeared through the boarding gate, Ni-ki was left contemplating the possibility of your paths crossing again—perhaps amidst the vibrant streets of Tokyo or in the backstage corridors of a concert venue. The brief interaction had left an indelible mark on him, a spark that refused to be extinguished by the routine of his life. Settling back into his seat, Ni-ki’s thoughts drifted back to you, imagining potential conversations, shared laughter, and the possibility of a burgeoning friendship—or hopefully something more—that could blossom in the most unexpected of places.

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O11. Minho x Male Reader SFW STATUS: posted!

O12. Hyunjin x Male Reader NSFW STATUS: posted!

O13. OT8 x No Reader NSFW STATUS: posted!

O14. Chan x Female Reader SFW STATUS: posted!

O15. OT8 x Gender Neutral Reader SFW STATUS: accepted plotted in progress queued

O16. OT8 x Gender Neutral Reader SFW STATUS: posted!

O17. Chan x No Reader (Father-Daughter) SFW STATUS: accepted plotted in progress queued

O18. Seungmin x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: accepted plotted in progress queued

O19. Minho x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: posted!

O2O. Jeongin x Gender Neutral Reader SFW STATUS: posted!

O21. Felix x Gender Neutral Reader SFW STATUS: posted!

O22. Chan x Gender Neutral Reader NSFW STATUS: accepted plotted in progress queued

O23. Hyunjin x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: accepted plotted in progress queued

엑스디너리 히어로즈 ── XDINARY HEROES. OO8/O13

OO1. Junhan x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: posted!

OO2. Gaon x Trans Boy Reader SFW STATUS: posted!

OO3. Junhan x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: posted!

OO4. Gaon x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: posted!

OO5. Gaon x Jooyeon x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: posted!

OO6. Gunil x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: posted!

OO7. Junhan x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: accepted plotted in progress queued

OO8. Jungsu x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: accepted plotted in progress queued

OO9. O.de x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: posted!

O1O. Jungsu x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: accepted plotted in progress queued

O11. O.de x Junhan x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: accepted plotted in progress queued

O12. OT6 x Gender Neutral Reader SFW STATUS: posted!

O13. Jooyeon x Female Reader NSFW STATUS: accepted plotted in progress queued

O14.

💬 Minors are not allowed to interact with my NSFW/18+ content! If you’re a minor or an ageless blog interacting with these types of contents, you will be blocked.

💬 Please allow at least a week or so for your request to be posted before asking me about it since I am a full-time student and I also work. I want everyone to have the best quality work I can provide, so please hang on!

💬 While requests are open, I still reserve the right to reject any of the requests regardless of whether they follow the guidelines or not. That said, it very rarely happens since I almost always appreciate a writing challenge!

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

© MINHOSBITTERRIVER | do not plagiarize, repost or translate my works on this platform or any others.

【 WWW.MINHOSBITTERRIVER.COM/ENHYPEN 】

💭 GUIDELINES ‣ LIBRARY ‣ TAGLIST & ANONS ‣ REQUEST LIST ‣ PINNED ‣ TIP JAR

📨 REQUESTS ARE CLOSED 📨 WORK COUNT: OO4 📨

NO SMUT FOR: Ni-ki & Jungwon SUGGESTIVE OKAY FOR: Jungwon

엔하이픈 ── OT7. ( enhypen )

⭐️─────MADE FOR LOVING YOU | 8.8K — HEADCANONS | in which you’re the idol who somehow snatched the members of enhypen’s heart at first sight. (GENDER NEUTRAL READER) REQUESTED

🍷─────LOOK UP TO YOU | 12.8K — HEADCANONS | in which you’re the idol and they’re your fanboys. (GENDER NEUTRAL READER) REQUESTED

🍷─────JEALOUS TIDES | 4.8K — HEADCANONS | these stories explore the subtle interplay of love, jealousy, and intimacy, capturing moments of tender connection and emotional depth between partners. (GENDER NEUTRAL READER) REQUESTED

이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG. ( heeseung )

nothing yet, come back later!

박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG. ( jay )

nothing yet, come back later!

심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN. ( jake )

nothing yet, come back later!

박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON. ( sunghoon )

🍷─────I FOUND A LOVE FOR ME | 1.4K — ONE-SHOT | in which sunghoon plans a little birthday celebration for you, whom he adores with his entire being. (FEMALE READER)

김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO. ( sunoo )

nothing yet, come back later!

양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON. ( jungwon )

nothing yet, come back later!

西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI. ( ni-ki )

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

© MINHOSBITTERRIVER | do not plagiarize, repost or translate my works on this platform or any others.

doctors orders! - sim jake

synopsis. jake was a little concerned by how often you were sat in his waiting room, but he couldn't deny how he searched his appointment list each morning hoping to see your name

pairing. jake x female reader

genre. social media au, fluff, comedy, angst in later chapters, smut for sure

characters. enhypen, chaeryeong and yeji of itzy, wonwoo and mingyu of seventeen

warnings. lots of swearing (it's me so...), very suggestive themes involving jake, smut in later chapters, mentions of character family death

start date. tba

end date. tba

taglist. send an ask to join the taglist! blog must show you are 18+ perma taglist will already be tagged!

profiles.

appointment one:

more than this - p.js 18+

49 - go big or go home

more than this masterlist

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more than this - p.js 18+

46 - jungwon I'm in your walls

more than this masterlist

send an ask to be in the taglist! 18+ accounts only

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more than this - p.js 18+

45 - you're so easily bought you whore

more than this masterlist

send an ask to be in the taglist! 18+ accounts only

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more than this - p.js 18+

43 - the departments baby

more than this masterlist

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more than this - p.js 18+

42 - niki don't fucking swear

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ughh i love ur writing 😭😭🫶🫶

thing you do he adores ♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ heeseung ;; when you focus on something

he could stare at you forever while you’re focused on certain task. the way your brows slightly furrow, your eyes are glowing with determination and even sometimes you stick the tip of your tongue out… he doesn’t know why he feels that way when he sees you in such state. whether it’s doing something or listening to someone - as long as you’re paying attention - his eyes are on you. and when you hold eye contact with him, even for a second… a horde of butterflies is invading his stomach

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jake ;; humming

whether it's a hum of approval; sound that you're listetning to him or just humming a song. he just loves your voice so much. holding eye contact while talking to him, he asks you a question and you just hum? he's got his lips stretched into an contagious smile right away. and if you're humming (especially his favourite songs or theirs) while cooking or studing be ready to have jake's chin on your shoulder as he relaxes to the sound of your soft voice. sometimes he can't help himself and joins you!!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jay ;; stretching

either it’s before/after training or just you need a random stretch – his eyes are on you right away. he doesn’t know why but he just loves when you do that. especially those long stretches after a good nap on his lap, accompanied by a yawn. you remind him of a lazy, adorable cat and he can’t help but just smirk at this sight. and when you're stretching your arms while sitting on a couch - he approaches you from behind and grabs your wrists, placing kisses all over your hands.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jungwon ;; giving him your clothes

his heart is doing somersaults when you do that. mostly because he’s taking care of others and sometimes forgets about himself: forgetting his gloves, scarf or jacket. but here you are, his wonderful girlfriend. when you coo at him while wrapping your scarf gently around his neck, his knees are weak. even weaker when you tug the scarf softly to pull him closer and place a caring kiss on his lips.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ niki ;; doodling

especially when you draw random shapes on his skin. he doesn’t mind if it’s a pen either - decorate his hand with doodles and he’ll stare at it for most of the day. he won’t say this to anyone ever but he keeps all the drawings you’ve made: is it on paper, sticky note, bill or his hand (he takes a picture every time) - you call it. he stores them in a box and once in a while goes through them, smiling underneath his breath.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ sunghoon ;; putting lipgloss/lipstick on your lips

he’s gone the moment he notices you are grabbing the lipstick and his eyes lit up instantly. especially lipgloss though. the way it smoothly coats your lips… and makes them so shiny, sparkly… so kissable!! so get ready to apply it once again since sunghoon is waltzing his way towards you to steal a kiss or two from you and your glossy lips (sometimes he just does it to see you apply it again<3)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ sunoo ;; cooking/baking

sunoo just can't help it. when he sees you in kitchen, preparing a meal with love for him... he's a goner. and if you wear an apron? someone save his poor heart. he loves to bake with you mostly just to tease you and smear icing on your cheek because - quoting - "you're just as sweet as the delicious snack you're making". but sunoo also finds your small actions adorable like standing on tippy toes to reach something, humming a song while adding ingredients, how swiftly you mix them or when you let him try the food by feeding him (and placing your hand underneath the spoon in case something falls)

[ masterlist <3 ]

⋆｡°✩ in his warmth ✦ sim jaeyun

there's just something in the air when jake comes home all sweaty and tired –  honey-glazed skin and messy hair – there was definitely a storm brewing up inside…

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing — sim jaeyun x male!reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — fluff, then suddenly suggestive, and then ACTUALLY seggs soooo there's that, m!reader really wanna get that because who DOESNT, fun, y'all wanted this okay PART 2 !!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — I AM SIM JAEYUN DEPRIVED … I NEED HIM … minors or people who dont like male reader stuff LOOK AWAY DNI BYEEEE

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ word count — 1.8k

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ looking for my main masterlist? — here's the legacy one!

The door clicks open with a tired sigh, hinges groaning as Jake shuffles inside.

You see it before he even speaks—the exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin. His shoulders are slumped, the proud line of his spine bowed under the weight of a long practice, his movements slow, deliberate, like every step is an effort. Sweat glistens on his temple, his golden skin flushed, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead in messy strands.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just drops his bag with a dull thud, toes off his shoes, and stands there for a moment, swaying slightly, as if he’s too tired to decide what to do next.

Your chest tightens.

You know this version of him—the quiet, drained Jake who gives everything until there’s nothing left. The one who pushes too hard, runs too long, forgets to stop. The one who needs to be reminded that he doesn’t always have to be strong.

So you don’t speak. Just open your arms.

And he comes to you like a man collapsing into an oasis.

His weight settles against you, warm and heavy, his forehead pressing into the crook of your neck. His breath gusts against your skin, uneven at first, then deepening as he finally lets himself relax.

You can feel the tremble in his muscles, the faint shiver running through him as your hands glide up his back, soothing, possessive.

“Tired,” he murmurs, voice thick, muffled against you.

You hum in response, fingers tracing the notches of his spine, the damp fabric of his shirt sticking to his skin. He smells like salt and exertion, like the sharp tang of effort and the faint sweetness of his cologne, worn thin by hours of movement.

You press your lips to his temple—just a quiet reassurance. I’ve got you.

He sighs, melting further into you.

Then, after a long moment, his fingers tighten in your shirt.

“Jake?” you murmur.

He doesn’t answer at first. Just shifts slightly, his breath hitching, like he’s wrestling with something. Then, softer than you’ve ever heard him, almost hesitant—

“Wanna feel you.”

Your pulse stutters.

“F-feel? Like what—?” You asked, not with hesitation, but just surprise. After all, he was tired.

“Like … you know,” Jake mumbled. “Inside …”

It’s not the words themselves—it’s the way he says them. Not demanding, not teasing, just… raw. Needy in a way that isn’t about lust, but about connection. Like he needs to be close, to be filled, to be yours in the most intimate way possible.

For a second, you just hold him, letting the request settle between you.

"Okay just…" You glanced around, the urgency in the air thickening between you both—hungry, impatient. The bedroom was too far, and the floor was too hard. "Let’s at least get to the couch."

Jake exhaled through his nose, lips pressing together in a fleeting pout—so close, he was so close to having you, and the delay was torture. But he nodded, fingers tightening in the fabric of your shirt as you guided him backward.

His steps were unsteady, his body already thrumming with anticipation, his mind dizzy with these selfish thoughts of you.

The couch welcomed you both, soft and familiar, but Jake barely registered it—all he could think about was you, you beneath him, your hands on him, your heat pressed against his.

The moment you sat, he was moving, shifting, his body surging forward before he could think better of it. He launched himself onto your lap, his weight crashing into you with a needy urgency, his thighs bracketing yours, his chest pressed flush against yours.

You chuckled, low and warm, and his stomach twisted. God, he loved that sound. Loved knowing he could pull it from you.

Your hands slid down, gripping his hips—steady, grounding—and Jake’s breath hitched. His fingers fumbled at your waistband, clumsy with desperation, trembling with the sheer want curling hot and insistent in his gut. He needed you now, needed to feel you, needed you inside him so badly his skin prickled with it.

"Fuck—" His fingers slipped, betraying him, and he let out a frustrated whine.

"Here," you murmured, voice rough and indulgent, and your fingers covered his, helping, guiding, freeing yourself for him.

The first brush of skin against skin sent a shiver racing down his spine. Yours. He was yours, and the thought alone made his pulse stutter.

He licked his lips, fingers flexing against your shoulders as he lifted himself just enough—just enough to press the head of your cock against his entrance, just enough to make his breath come in shallow, uneven bursts.

Then he sank.

Slow. Agonizingly slow.

Because he wanted to feel it. Wanted to savor the stretch, the burn, the way you filled him so perfectly, so completely. He bit his lip, lashes fluttering, throat working around a silent moan as he took you in inch by inch, his body adjusting, his muscles clenching around you as if to keep you there forever.

And then—then—when you were buried deep inside him, when he could feel you in his bones, he stilled.

His breath left him in a shaky exhale, his fingers digging into your shoulders like you were the only thing tethering him to this world. His lips parted, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and his eyes—glazed, half-lidded—locked onto yours.

Yours.

All yours.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Not moving, not rushing—just feeling.

His breath steadies. His weight settles. His forehead drops back to your shoulder.

“There,” he whispers, voice rough. “Just like that.”

And for a long, quiet moment, that’s all there is—the two of you, tangled together, breathing in sync.

No words. No demands.

Just this.

There’s no rush. No frantic rocking, no desperate chase for friction—just the two of you locked together, his body snug around yours, so warm and so right. His arms loop around your shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he doesn’t hold on.

His forehead rests against your collarbone, lips brushing your skin in lazy, open-mouthed kisses—not quite intentional, just the slow drag of his mouth as he nuzzles closer, drunk on your warmth.

“M-missed you,” he stutters, voice thick and sleep-soft, like the words are spilling out without his permission.

His hips shift in tiny, unconscious circles, barely enough to be called movement, just the faintest roll of his pelvis as his body seeks more of you. His rim flutters around your cock in quiet, involuntary pulses, each little clench pulling a low groan from your throat.

Jake whimpers in response, pressing even closer, chest to chest, like he wants to crawl inside your chest and stay there.

You tighten your grip on him, one hand splayed between his shoulder blades, the other cupping the nape of his neck. His skin is fever-hot under your palms, damp with sweat and trembling faintly with the effort of holding himself up. But he doesn’t pull away—just sinks deeper, his breath hitching as he adjusts to the stretch, the fullness of you.

“S’good,” he mumbles, words slurring together, voice wrecked already. “Just… just needed to feel all of you.”

It’s not about the sex. Never really was. It’s the way he breathes when you’re inside him—like his lungs finally remember how to work. Like he can only relax when there’s no space left between you, when he can feel your heartbeat against his own.

You stroke his back, tracing the damp lines of his spine, the ridges of muscle gone soft with exhaustion.

He melts further, boneless and pliant, his weight a perfect, grounding pressure in your lap. Time blurs—minutes or hours, it doesn’t matter. Not when Jake is like this, soft and sweet and yours, his body a living prayer against yours.

He shifts again, just slightly, and you feel the way his thighs tremble, the way his hole tightens around you as he chases the sensation—not for release, just for the feeling, the proof that you’re here, that he’s not alone.

“Don’t stop,” he breathes, voice cracking. “Don’t—don’t pull out. Not yet.”

As if you could.

You press a kiss to his temple, his cheek, the corner of his mouth—gentle, reverent. He sighs, blissed-out and hazy, lips parting under yours without demand, letting you take what you need. His fingers thread into your hair, not guiding, just holding, like he’s memorizing the shape of you.

You could stay like this forever: sticky with sweat, slow and heavy, senses full of him in every way that matters. And from the way he clings to you—like you’re the only thing keeping him anchored—you think maybe he could too.

You keep him close, your hands moving in slow, soothing strokes down his relaxed back, feeling the way his body gradually loosens in your hold—like a knot unraveling, like tension bleeding out of him with every exhale. His breathing evens out, warm puffs against your neck, his fingers still tangled loosely in your shirt, still holding on, even now, even when he’s too exhausted to do anything but melt into you.

He’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

The thought lodges in your chest, sharp and tender.

“You’re okay,” you murmur, lips brushing his temple, your voice so low it’s almost a rumble against his skin. “Just relax.”

Jake makes another soft, drowsy noise—half-sigh, half-whimper—his hips rolling in the faintest, laziest grind. It’s not deliberate, not really; just instinct, that part of him that needs you, that craves the proof of your presence deep inside him. His rim flutters weakly around your cock, and you bite back a groan, your fingers flexing against his back.

You could move. You could snap your hips up and chase your own pleasure, could fuck into that tight heat until he’s sobbing your name.

But this isn’t about that.

This is about the way Jake clings to you like you’re the only solid thing in his world. About the way his body opens for you so easily, so trustingly, like he was made to take you, like there’s no version of him that exists without your hands on him.

This is about love, slow and syrupy and aching in its sweetness.

“Love you,” he mumbles, barely audible, his voice thick with sleep, with you.

Your chest tightens. You press another kiss to his skin—his temple, the slope of his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth—your hands sliding down to cup the curve of his rear, holding him steady against you.

“Love you more.”

Jake huffs a tired laugh, nuzzling into your shoulder. “Nuh-uh.”

You smile, but don’t argue—just let your fingers drift between his legs, brushing feather-light over where you’re joined. The barest touch sends a jolt through Jake, his rim fluttering around your cock, achingly sensitive.

Oh fuck.

He shudders, a quiet whine escaping him, his hips twitching forward like he can’t help it. The friction is electric, overwhelming—your cock still buried deep inside him, your fingers teasing the stretched, tender rim around it. His body pulses with it, every nerve alight.

"S’too much," he slurs, voice thick, wrecked.

But he doesn’t pull away. Couldn’t if he tried.

Instead, he presses closer, his body yielding, opening up even more, like he’s made for this, made for you. His cock twitches where it’s trapped between your stomachs, already leaking, already so fucking desperate for more.

He’s always been like this—so responsive, so easy, falling apart under the barest touch.

And you know it.

Your fingers trace his rim again, slow, deliberate, and Jake whimpers, his thighs trembling. He can feel everything—the way his body grips you, the way your cock twitches inside him, the way your fingers tease just enough to make his breath hitch.

"Want me to fill you up?"

The question is low, rough, and Jake’s stomach tightens.

Yes. Yes. Fuck, yes.

He nods, barely lifting his head, his lashes fluttering as he meets your gaze. His eyes are half-lidded, dazed, his lips parted around shaky breaths.

"Please."

The word is wrecked, raw with want.

You don’t make him wait.

But you don’t rush, either.

You roll your hips up, just once, slow and deep, and Jake gasps, his fingers digging into your shoulders. The drag of your cock inside him is maddening, the pressure building, building—

And then you do it again.

Fuck.

Jake’s mouth falls open, a silent moan caught in his throat. He can feel it—the way your cock pulses inside him, the way your grip on his hip tightens, possessive, needy.

He’s so full.

So yours.

And when you finally spill inside him, hot and thick, he shudders, his body clenching around you, milking every last drop like he can’t bear to let you go. A weak little moan slips past his lips, his cock twitching between you, untouched but so fucking close—

"Fuck," he breathes, forehead dropping against your shoulder.

Because this?

This is everything.

“There you go,” you murmur, rubbing his back as he slumps against you, completely spent. “All yours.”

He hums, already halfway to sleep, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks. “M’yours,” he agrees, voice slurred.

And God, the way that settles in your ribs—like sunlight, like something too big to even name.

You kiss his forehead, holding him close as his breathing evens out, as his body goes slack and heavy in your arms. He’s out within seconds—warm, sated, and utterly content, still full of you in the best way.

And you? You don’t move. Not yet.

You’ll let him sleep just like this—sticky and sweet, your cum dripping lazily from his well-used hole, your cock still buried inside him, because Jake has always been clingy in the best way, and you wouldn’t have him any other way.

Because this?

This is home.

EN—D

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — okay … bottom jake agenda .. ESPECIALLY THAT FUCKING DELICIOUS EDIT OF HIM BITING AND SITTING AND BEING ALL CUTIE PATOOTIE FUCKKKKKKKK okay sorry guys i … im unhinged … asjfgiaa

my masterlist! | made by writhyv 💘

i really want to write something about enha x harry potter but im afraid i dont know enough terminologies and i might just make up my own timeline 😮‍💨🖐️

⋆｡°✩ [jay, jake, ni-ki, sunghoon] your bf comforts you from 'haters'

unsorted | park jongseong x male!reader + sim jaeyun x male!reader + nishimura riki x male!reader + park sunghoon x male!reader

pairing: jay x male reader + jake x male reader + niki x male reader + sunghoon x male reader genre: sad angst vibes at the start but def fluff or comfort fgjkasjf notes: there's always going to be people who will hate you and your relationship. and yes, it's normal to be affected. however, it's also normal to accept some comfort by your side. everything's just better with someone you can rely on :)

Of course, you weren’t Korean. Of course, you weren’t used to their culture. But… did they really have to throw that in your face? Did they have to make you feel left out? Or was it just a game to them?

Jay could only look at your face, which seemed so troubled and gloomy. You were going through a lot of emotions right now, and he hated seeing you like this.

He held your hand tightly, warming it with his grip before speaking softly, like a gentle thread of silk. “I’ll talk to them.”

You held onto his hand, never wanting to let go. Jay wasn’t surprised, waiting patiently for you to unclasp his arm.

“Jagi…”

He knew he shouldn’t do that. It felt embarrassing. It felt stupid. It was—

“I won’t make a scene,” Jay reassured you, placing his hand on your shoulders.

You continued to grip his hand firmly. Jay sighed and lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles as you turned to face him.

“I’m just going to tell them how hardworking you’ve been.” He flashed his signature smirk, managing to relax your nerves for just a moment.

“And how grateful I am to see you every single day.”

You both exchanged thoughtful looks, gazing into each other’s eyes. In that moment, you felt your eyes begin to dampen. He wiped away the tears slowly falling from your cheeks. “And how I’m so in love with you that no one could possibly understand.”

Jay looked at you with such a loving gaze that you couldn’t help but wonder—what kind of life had you led before to deserve this kind of blessing?

“But Jay…”

“No buts.” Jay placed his hand gently over your glossy lips, his finger softly trailing down your bottom lip. “Just let me handle it.”

You tightened your grip on his hand one last time. You didn’t want him to get involved in something that seemed so silly, yet somehow, you felt relieved.

Relieved that someone cares for you. Someone who looks out for you.

Someone who sees your worth and values you.

Jay understood the silence that filled your head. So what’s the best thing he could do right now? A kiss. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, a soft sway in the wind as he landed his lips on the top of your head.

“I’ll be right back,” Jay said with a warm smile.

You let his hands go, knowing Jay’s intentions were pure and nothing more. You smiled back, trusting your lover to defend you.

It was comforting—to be defended and cared for, just as you would do for him.

“Babe?” Jake knocks on the door, clearly waiting for you on the other side.

“This is nothing, I swear!” you call out, sniffing as you huddle in the corner of the restroom.

Yes, the place is damp, messy, and definitely not nice… but nothing could be worse than the hurtful things you’ve heard from other people.

And Jake can’t bear not knowing what happened.

“I... I’m sorry,” Jake whispers, his sadness evident in his voice. Even the tone reveals his regret.

You turn your gaze toward him. “Oh, don’t be!” you say, trying to wipe your face and smile as if everything is fine. “C’mon now.”

“But they said bad things, right?” Jake asks, trying to express his feelings. He cares deeply about what he missed. He swears that if he hadn’t taken his time at the counter, he wouldn’t have hesitated to teach those mean people a lesson.

Yet he needs to know how you feel first. When he saw you run to the restroom, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He was scared, worried, and he wasn’t going to let this slide.

He was determined to be your protector.

“It’s not that bad…” you try to defend yourself, almost reflexively.

Were they really NOT that bad? Is that how you would describe being labeled as someone your boyfriend doesn’t deserve? Not bad?

Words sting. Words hurt. Is it really not bad if they call you an opportunist just because you love your boyfriend?

“I don’t think you’d lock yourself in a public restroom if it wasn’t, babe,” Jake sighs, hoping you’ll open the door quickly.

“They…” you suddenly burst into tears, remembering every single hurtful word you’ve heard.

Why must it be you who feels this way? Why must it be you experiencing something that shouldn’t happen to anyone?

“I’m gonna bust the door open—”

“Wha—”

“HAH!!!” He successfully breaks through the distance between you and him. With a bright smile, he wants to comfort you right then and there.

“Ow…”

Wherever ‘there’ is…

“B-baby!” Jake jumps in surprise, his heart racing as he sees you on the floor, all tumbled up.

“It’s fine…” you say in a gasping tone. You don’t mind it at all, though Jake’s strength is definitely nothing to be messed with.

“Sorry! I thought you were in one of those!” Jake points at the two restroom divisions, thinking you were hiding somewhere.

“So cute…” you coo, making Jake blush a little. “You’re trying to save me like a hero?”

Jake rushes to your side and helps you get up. “Ugh, look at your clothes! It’s your favorite, right?”

“Pssh. Like it matters.” You deny it, clearly relying on this mechanism to cope.

Jake looks at you with serious eyes. “C’mon. Don’t do that now.”

“Huh?”

“You were hurt. Two times.” Jake raises his fingers. “In one day. It HAS to hurt.”

You look at him, realizing how much you’ve been denying your own feelings. Of course, you hate it. You hate feeling what you’ve felt today. Although Jake’s little push wasn’t much, that earlier situation scraped at your heart.

Just then, you notice your eyes are wet. They aren’t just damp; they’re soaking. You can only cry right then and there.

Jake sees your tears fall and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Shh…” he says softly, trying to comfort you, patting your back as you sob against him. “I’m here.”

You continue to cry, letting it all out. Maybe on this day, or in this life, you feel like you don’t matter to anyone. You’re willing to accept that.

But you matter to Jake. Just as he matters to you.

Maybe that’s all you really need.

“Something wrong?” Ni-ki asks, his voice low and filled with concern as he leans closer to you, sensing the tension rising in your body before you even fully process the words.

His gaze, sharp and hyper-observant from years of reading rooms as a performer, flickers to the source of the whispers around you and then back to your face.

At first, he thinks you’re just your usual unfazed self, but as he studies your expression, he realizes the truth—you are affected.

This awareness shifts something in him, prompting him to step closer. His shoulder brushes against yours casually, yet it feels fiercely deliberate—a shield disguised as coincidence.

“Hey,” he murmurs again, tilting his head down so only you can hear. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding, guiding you toward a quieter corner away from prying eyes and judgmental voices.

Ni-ki isn’t one for dramatic confrontations; he prioritizes your peace over their noise, ready to remove you from the chaos that surrounds you.

Once you find a moment alone, he faces you fully. His usual playful smirk is replaced by a quiet seriousness that catches you off guard.

“You know they’re wrong,” he states simply, his tone leaving no room for debate.

You recognize this side of him—the one that surfaces during tough rehearsals, when he’s pushing himself to perfect a move. He is stubborn in his convictions.

“I... I know. It’s just—” you begin, but the words catch in your throat.

“It’s nothing but smack.” Ni-ki tries to push away that trembling fear of yours, the snake that keeps crawling up your leg, the creeping anxiety that always seems to burn you down whenever something like this happens. He weighs his words carefully, wanting to make you feel better, or at least let you know you’re not alone in times like these.

“You’re... stronger than they think. And I know what’s real.” His thumb grazes your wrist, a fleeting touch that carries the weight of his loyalty, reminding you that you’re not alone. "I just-" A sudden kiss then touches your lips, warmth bathing your own. "Wah-" Another kiss graces you again. Ni-ki smirked as he prompted to wait another moment for you to speak. "He-" One last kiss to shut you up. That will do it, Ni-ki thought.

“Hehe.” You felt suddenly lighter than before. Maybe three kisses worked their magic already. As for Ni-ki? He looked proud as one definitely would, like winning a raffle prize. Bumping his head close to yours, he lightens the air with a half-smirk.

“Next time, I’ll ‘accidentally’ spill my drink on them. My clumsy era.”

“What the..." You looked at him, a familiar glance he knew well you'd do when he teased you.

"Riki.”

“What?” Ni-ki smiles, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Is that a game plan or what?”

You giggle, knowing how he always tries to cheer you up has been a success in the past. Even amidst the buzz of the world, just having Ni-ki right with you feels like enough. With him, you feel stronger and much better.

And Ni-ki? He loves you even more. Nothing compares to that.

The next day, he shows up at work wearing the hoodie you once teased him for borrowing, unbothered by the stares of others around you. Yes, it was pink. Yes, it was a Donald Duck comic panel hoodie and yes, it wasn't his taste at all. But with all of this, his presence is a silent rebellion against any negativity. For Ni-ki, comfort isn’t found in grand speeches; it’s in staying.

He proves, through every small choice he makes, that he will walk beside you—loudly, unapologetically—no matter who’s watching. In this moment, you feel a sense of reassurance, knowing that with Ni-ki by your side, you can face anything that comes your way.

“You good?” Sunghoon asks, noticing the bad vibe in the air before you even do. His polite smile, which he uses in public, freezes just a little as his instincts kick in to hide his irritation.

But his eyes, usually calm and peaceful, darken with a hint of protectiveness, a fierce guardian ready to shield you from the negativity surrounding you.

“Mhm.” You nod, trying to show him that it’s not a big deal, even though you know it is. You want to be strong for him, to not add to his burdens.

Without breaking his cool demeanor, he steps subtly between you and the voices, standing tall like a strong tree, unyielding against the gusts of harsh words.

“Let’s get some air,” he says lightly, as if he’s just suggesting a casual walk, but you can sense the underlying urgency in his tone.

“O-okay.” His hand gently presses against your back—a silent command to follow, not argue. You feel the warmth of his touch seep through the layers of your emotional turmoil, grounding you.

Once you both find a quiet spot, nestled away from prying eyes and judgmental whispers, he turns to you, and his icy facade melts into something softer.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low but steady. Sunghoon isn’t one for long speeches, but his gaze locks onto yours, intense and unwavering, making you feel truly seen.

“W-What are you talking about?” You smile, doing your best to deny what you’re feeling and hide it from him. You don’t want him to worry; he has enough on his plate.

As you try to shrug it off, he raises an eyebrow—that look he gives when he knows you’re lying. It’s a look that makes your heart flutter, even in such a heavy moment.

“Hoonie—”

“They’re idiots,” he says plainly, crossing his arms. “The kind who’d fall flat on their face trying a single axel jump.”

The reference catches you off guard and makes you giggle a little. “A-axel jump? That’s a throwback.”

Sunghoon takes a good look at you as you settle, fixing the hair strands that almost cover your face. He can tell you’re trying to keep it together, but he’s seen you crumble before, and it breaks his heart to witness it again.

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” He hesitates for a moment, showing a rare side of himself, before saying, “It hurts me too. Seeing you like this.”

You understand what Sunghoon is trying to say. People aren’t always kind about idols dating, especially when they’re the same sex. You’ve faced your share of hate and gossip, but it’s not something serious enough to ruin his reputation. It’s something very personal for him when he knows you’re being targeted.

But to him, none of that matters. As long as he can show his love for you while doing what he loves, he feels content.

“They want a reaction. Don’t give them one,” he says, firm but not cold. “We’ll show them this instead.” He flashes his bright, dimpled smile, warm and calculated, before linking his arm through yours and leading you back into the room.

You laugh again, seeing how cute your partner is. He’s trying his own way of showing how much he cares for you, and nothing can compare to his efforts.

You lean against his shoulder and tighten your grip on his strong arm, silently thanking him for everything he does.

Of course, Sunghoon smiles. Deep down, it’s all that matters to him.

That you feel happy, comfortable, and loved. With him.

“You’re better than every single one of them.” His breath feels warm as he kisses your forehead.

“And I’m never wrong about people.”

wishing you comfort in these small drabbles. from me and enha <3

hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~

my masterlist!

made by writhyv 💘

⋆｡°✩ pushing his buttons to finally make him confess

unsorted | nishimura riki x male!reader

pairing: childhood bestfriend!ni-ki x male reader genre: fluff, little bit of a build up of angst? i actually don't know ... words: 2.03k notes: trying something completely different and just getting these ideas out! i've always liked the 'childhood bestfriend' tropes and i think ni-ki definitely fills up the criteria. not meant to be a realistic take on ni-ki in anyway (since this is a fanfic lol) but something just loosely based on him. hope you like it!

You've been so focused on impressing your crush that you've completely overlooked Ni-ki's feelings for you. For a long time, he's harbored strong emotions, but he keeps them hidden while you excitedly talk about your crush and ask for his help getting closer to him. Ni-ki always shakes his head and tells you that his friend is not interested in you, but the truth is that every time you mention his friend, it stings a little more. He doesn't want to complicate your friendship by revealing how he truly feels.

Deep down, Ni-ki wishes you could see how much he cares for you. He's been there all along, offering support, even while dealing with his own heartache. While you focused all your attention on this new crush, they were just a new development, yet you seemed to put all your efforts into them at once. Ni-ki couldn't bear it at all.

One day, your teacher announces a group project, and you're in a group with your crush. You're thrilled, but you have no idea where his house is for the group meeting. Luckily, Ni-ki knows the area well and offers to accompany you. He can't resist helping you, even if it hurts him to see you so enamored with his friend.

"You sure you know his house?" you asked, fixing your backpack as you walked alongside your best friend.

"Ugh, it's not like I wanted to," Ni-ki sighed, trying to distance himself from the topic. Clearly, he doesn't care about the guy or the project. He only cares about you.

"But still!" you tugged his arm. "Thank you for taking the time to come with me..."

Ni-ki looked at you with his hands in his pockets. As he saw your golden smile appear, he couldn't help but be mesmerized by it. He couldn't tell whether he was living a dream or a nightmare — it was too hard to tell.

When you both arrive at your crush's house, you try to play it cool, but you can’t help but feel nervous. Your friends arrived shortly, joining you in your project as well. You’re eager to impress your crush, while Ni-ki stands silently beside you, feeling nothing but emptiness and sadness for himself.

As you start working on the project, you keep stealing glances at your crush, laughing at his jokes and trying to engage him in conversation. Ni-ki observes from the sidelines, noticing how your face lights up every time you look at his friend. Each giggle you share with your crush feels like a sharp reminder of what he can’t have, but he keeps quiet, not wanting to ruin the moment for you.

After a while, your friends suggest taking a break and playing some games to lighten the mood. You agree, thrilled to spend more time with him, while Ni-ki watches quietly, wishing he could take your place.

When one of your louder friends suggests the game of truth or dare, laughter fills the room. You sit there nervously as your friends take turns revealing secrets or completing silly dares.

Finally, when it’s your turn, you shyly choose 'dare.' Your friends, excited, dare you to kiss the person you like. You glance over at your crush, your heart racing with anticipation, while Ni-ki’s expression darkens just a bit, feeling the weight of the moment.

"I-"

"This is ridiculous," Ni-ki rose from his seat and quickly pulled you away from the group, who could only groan in dismay. Although it seems unlikely, your supposed crush had a small look of concern. But did it even matter?

"Riki..." you pleaded. "Your hand..."

But Ni-ki couldn't hear you. He didn't want anyone to see you with him at this moment, so he was determined to get you as far away from the others as possible.

"RIKI!!" you shouted. Ni-ki stopped as he saw you.

"You're... you're grip was too tight," you pointed at your arm, and he let it go immediately.

"S-sorry!" he apologized, rubbing your hand quickly. It was clear that he didn't mean to hurt you, but he felt a bit disappointed with himself anyway.

"Hehe, It's alright," you tried to smile for a bit, even though you had no idea what just happened.

You two stood there under the bright moon. It wasn't the best of days, but it was magical how the crickets sounded in the early hours of the night. You looked at Ni-ki, still confused. He couldn't speak at the moment, rethinking what he had intended to do.

"Riki-"

"Do you really like him?" he spoke in a deep voice. It wasn't the first time you heard it, but it sounded so serious now.

"I-"

"I can tell that you're trying too hard," Ni-ki looked at you with his eyes, filled with curiosity. "Too hard."

That didn't feel right, you thought. Why would Ni-ki say something like that so suddenly? Is he against the idea all of a sudden? Does he hate you for it? Does it matter who you want to like?

"Okay..." you sighed. "Can you just tell me what's happening? I thought you were supportive of me..."

Ni-ki looked at you, sincerity clear in his gaze. "I... I am!"

"But you don't feel like it!" you walked towards him.

Ni-ki could only look at you closely before you spoke again.

"Are you..." you took your time to say these words. It was the worst case, but what if it is now?

"Are you disgusted by what I'm feeling? By me?" you spoke hesitantly, knowing full well it wasn't the case.

Ni-ki shot a surprised look towards you, a shocked expression on his face. "N-no! Why would you say that!"

"Then why are you so against me having a crush on him!" you spoke loudly, not even sure if you sounded too loud at that point.

Ni-ki couldn't believe it. Of course, he could never judge you for who you wanted to love. Not in that way. It didn't matter to him what your choices were. Sure, he may be bad at expressing himself sometimes, but he always supported you no matter what.

And he liked it that way.

He liked you that way.

"Because I like you!" Ni-ki replied with his voice shaking in fear. Fear of letting you know, and the fear of possibly losing you. He couldn't handle it, saying the most outrageous thing that might drive you away from him.

"I like you," Ni-ki spoke softly. "I really do."

Ni-ki liked you? Since when?

When did this happen? How could you not see it?

Where was it when you looked for it?

Looked at him.

That way?

"Y...you..." you covered your mouth as you tried to take in his words. "No... no I-"

"I can explain-"

"How could you explain this to me!" you stepped back from him as he tried to come near, his face showing that he was really sorry.

"Are you even listening to what you're saying!"

"I- I do like you!"

Silence.

There was only silence.

Only two people, two best friends... two hearts talking to each other.

"Then ... why ... now..." Tears fell from your eyes as you said those words from your heart, out for your best friend to listen closely.

Why now? Why would your best friend like you when you've given up entirely on that idea?

At daydreaming a future of you and him?

At loving the one person who cared for you like nobody else could?

You punched and punched his chest as you sank to the soft ground. Ni-ki tried to comfort you by wrapping his arms around you. You could only cry even more as you breathed in his familiar scent. There was nothing else that you could say.

You were supposed to forget these feelings, but why do they need to come back like this? Now that you've tried so hard to keep them away from hurting you? Why?

"I... I'm sorry." Ni-ki tried to speak as his sniffling nearly choked him. "I'm sorry I couldn't be brave enough to even pursue you..."

You continued to cry, remembering how much you liked him. How much you appreciated everything he did. How you wanted to understand him so you could build a lasting relationship with this kind guy who got you language guides and taught you manners you wouldn't know otherwise.

You fell for him, and you wanted to fall even deeper, but you never had a clue he liked you back.

"You're so ... stupid!" you continued to hit his chest. It wasn't that hard, but it was enough to make Ni-ki wince. He didn't like it when you hurt. Whether it was a scratch, a burn, or a bully, he didn't want you to suffer at all. He wanted to hold you in his arms as much as he could.

"I am..." Ni-ki tried to speak, trying to hide his own sobbing. "I just... can't decide whether I should let you be with him... or stay with me."

You then began to feel terrible, listening to him being a sniffling mess. You looked back towards his barren features, immediately wiping his tears away.

"So ... you just needed a little push?"

Ni-ki nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"I... I didn't know how to deal with these feelings." He spoke to you. "And even if I did, I couldn't find the courage. Not with you."

You sighed, sitting up as you cleaned your face. "C'mon, Riki. I told you; you've got the charm ... the confidence ... the looks ... the spirit."

Ni-ki looked at you, laughing softly.

"What?" You spoke as you took a good look at him.

"Are you seriously prepping me when I already confessed?"

"I mean, it's not too late to not do that, you know?"

You two shared a quiet moment, mere seconds, as you took your time to process it all.

"So you like me?" Ni-ki broke the silence with one simple question.

"Of course." You nodded. "How couldn't I? You were the perfect package."

"I couldn't even handle my own feelings." Ni-ki wiped his tears as he chuckled lightly. "Are you sure you're ready to take a chance on me?"

"Hey." You looked at him. "Do you really want me or not?"

"Psh. Of course I do."

"Then don't be scared and keep your word." You smiled at him, your eyes still watery. "Love me all you want. And let me love you all I want."

Ni-ki laughed brightly, holding your hands and putting them against his own.

"Okay." He agreed. "I'll love you for all time."

"All time?" You looked at him confused. "You mean forever?"

Ni-ki shook his head. "No. I meant for all time. Past, future, present, and every other moment."

As you raised your hands to his cheeks, he gently cupped them and rubbed his own palm upon yours. "All the moments that time can give me to love you ... that's what I want."

Now, it was your turn to smile back at him.

"You're crazy." You looked at him as you fixed his stray hair. "Then ... let me do that too."

Ni-ki's eyes went wide as you pulled him into a sweet kiss. Having it felt like a soft kind of candy, and not just because of the texture. His mouth tasted so much like a sweet dream, one you'll fall into easily and never want to leave.

"We're both fools, aren't we?" Ni-ki spoke as he broke away from your kiss.

"Very much so." You giggled. "A couple of fools."

"Definitely." Ni-ki said as he rested his head on your shoulder. "A couple."

"A couple it is." Niki rest his head on your shoulders, and exposed his own nape in front of you. Without any care in the world, you pressed your damp lips onto his soft skin, relishing the beauty of this occasion.

tried this new unsorted way of writing for stuff i couldn't just fit into compilations or a full series! also hopefully i did ni-ki's hypothetical highschool self good aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~

my masterlist!

made by writhyv 💘

⋆｡°✩ your idol wants to see you again

I-800-LOVE-YOU | nishimura riki x male!reader

pairing: niki x male!reader

genre: fluff!

word count: 2.3k

notes: nothing much! hope you enjoy these povs that really frame 'your' character's feelings towards ni-ki hehe

Why does it seem so unreal talking to him? Is it really worth the risk?

Your best friend burst into your bedroom, her infectious grin lighting up the space as she flopped down onto your soft bed without a hint of hesitation.

“Any scoop on the troupe? And by that I mean the dance troupe. And by that I mean the dancer. And by that I mean Ni-ki. And by that I mean—”

“Yah! You can’t just enter a man’s bedroom!” You exclaimed, flinching at her sudden leap across the room.

“A man?!” she shot back playfully, her eyes sparkling. “You’re not just any man, you’re THE man!”

With an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you settled back onto your warm mattress, attempting to tame your disheveled hair, which had been ruffled by her enthusiastic entrance.

“And why is that?” you challenged, trying to keep your composure. “I could do anything to you.”

“Well, don’t do it to me!” she laughed, shoving you playfully. “Do it to Ni-ki!” She squealed as she grabbed pillows, playfully smothering your face with them.

“Hey, hey!” you protested, struggling to push her away. “You heard me through the walls, didn’t you?!”

“What? Am I not allowed to listen in on my own house?” She batted her eyelashes innocently. “You’re lucky I’m shipping you two!”

Groaning, you leaned back on the bed. “Listen, I really don’t understand it.” You sighed heavily, the weight of the conversation settling in. “I don’t think it’s that serious.”

She turned her body toward you, her brow arched in disbelief. “You best believe it is.”

“It’s not,” you insisted, shaking your head. “He’s an idol. Plus, he’s too young AND too famous.”

Your best friend let out a melodious chuckle, shaking her head in amusement.

“What?” you retorted, feeling defensive.

“You’re only three years older, okay?” she pointed out, her voice teasing. “And for the popularity problem, I don’t think he cares anyway.”

“He’s an idol,” you replied, looking away, the weight of your words hanging in the air. “He should.”

She moved closer, resting her head on your shoulder, her voice softening. “Just test the waters. I’m sure he’s just looking for someone, and he found you at the right moment.”

Your mind wandered back to the memory of Ni-ki holding your hands tightly, and a flutter of hope stirred within you.

“Hahh... You’re right,” you finally admitted, turning to face your friend. “He did say he wants to be friends. To be closer... more accurately.”

“See?” she grinned, her enthusiasm infectious.

“I think I can try being friends,” you said, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Nothing wrong with having a friend.”

“Exactly!” Your best friend cheered, raising her fists in triumph. “Then eventually you da—”

“Eventually he comes to a decision to stop it because I’ll be a liability to him,” you cut her off, the weight of your insecurities surfacing.

Her expression shifted, and she playfully punched your shoulder. “Don’t be such a spoiler! Rah!”

You rolled your eyes again, contemplating whether your words truly reflected the feelings swirling inside you.

Of course, you wanted a new friend. Of course, you wanted that friend to be eager to be friends with you. Of course, you’d love to spend time with someone charismatic and talented—it just happened to be that he was also a famous idol. But doubt lingered in your heart—did you truly deserve this happiness? Would it last? And what if you ruined his career, his dreams, his life? The thought sent a chill down your spine.

“God, that’s a lot of things in your head. What a mess,” you thought, feeling overwhelmed.

“I can see all the mumbling speech bubbles in the air right now,” your best friend chuckled, inching closer. “It’s not that insane, right? Just be friends with him.”

You looked at her, uncertainty etched on your face. “But what if I—”

“Just see what happens,” she urged, her eyes earnest. “If it isn’t really working, you can be honest.”

Taking a deep breath, you gazed at your hands, closing them tightly as if to gather the courage within you.

“I can do that,” you sighed, feeling a flicker of determination.

Your best friend wrapped you in a warm embrace, her genuine warmth easing the tension in your chest. “And don’t forget about me. I’m here too.”

“Mhm,” you replied softly, grateful for her support.

A good few days had passed, and a whirlwind of events had unfolded.

You started your first class right after the fan meet, brimming with joy as you taught a group of bright and eager students. They were a delight to be around, and the administration took notice, appreciating your efforts and offering various roles that came with incentives. Smiling at the opportunities that lay ahead, you signed up for most of them and dedicated yourself diligently to your work.

Meanwhile, your friendship with Ni-ki blossomed. He couldn’t wait another day and called you daily, sharing snippets of his life. He recounted how he spent his resting hours lounging in his room, playing games with his bandmates, and practicing choreography for their upcoming promotions. The two of you were growing closer, and you often found yourself wondering when you would see each other in person again.

“Well, Ni-ki does,” Jungwon said from the front seat of the van, breaking the silence that had settled after a tiring shoot for SBS Inkigayo.

The gentle rumbling of the engine accompanied the sounds of exhaustion radiating from the other members. Half the boys had already succumbed to fatigue, using pillows, eye covers, or handkerchiefs to shield their eyes from the light.

“Yeah, but—” Heeseung turned around in his seat, raising a brow. “Isn’t it already afternoon? Are there still classes this late in the day?”

“Good point,” Sunoo pouted, contemplating. “Maybe their school is a bit different? It is Seoul, after all.”

Unbothered, Ni-ki bit his lip, lost in thought as he envisioned seeing you again. His heart raced at the prospect. Moving his legs quickly, he could almost picture seeing your golden smile. Yeah, that's what he's calling it.

"Hey, stop that." Jake muttered as he lifted the eye cover from his face.

Ni-ki acted as if he couldn't hear Jake's plea. The older rolled his eyes and forced an arm to stop the younger's leg.

"No! I swear to god-"

"Oh, he's awake!" Jungwon looked over to the back, where Ni-ki and Jake sat together. Seems like Jake had been napping for quite a while.

"Ugh, yeah." Jake fixed bits of his hair to the side, revealing his sleepy set of eyes wondering around the van. "This guy ruined it with his leg yapping. What's up?"

"Is it fine if we drop Ni-ki at Yanghoon State?" Jungwon asked as he held his phone. For reference, you shared the location of your school to Ni-ki. Of course, Ni-ki could only keep that information to himself for a while, before Jake swatted his phone and sent the pinned location to their group chat.

"Oh? Yeah." Jake moved an inch closer towards the other boys. "We'll just have to keep an eye when PD-nim needs us for backup or anything."

Jake looked at Ni-ki with a sharp edged look. "You better be proper. You're missing our bro night for this."

"You're not the leader." Ni-ki grinned.

"Hey! I'm still older!" Jake jabbed Ni-ki's shoulder.

The manager raised his hand in acknowledgment. Ni-ki’s eagerness to see you excited the whole group, even the higher-ups, despite the risks involved.

“Do we still need the rental car?” Ni-ki asked, scratching his head. “Can’t we just use this van?”

Heeseung sighed, chuckling. “Bro, you already made such a big fuss in the company. Just bear with the car.”

Ni-ki swiped his hair to the side in mock frustration, realizing that his plan to impress you with the company van had come to a halt.

“He’ll love you driving a Civic,” Jake teased.

“Hyung, I can’t drive,” Ni-ki replied, exasperated.

“Oof, I feel like you’re getting UN-cooler by the minute.”

“Aish!” Ni-ki shoved Jake away playfully.

“Who’s the girl anyway?” the manager asked, curiosity piqued.

Everyone’s heads turned toward Ni-ki, who suddenly wore a serious expression. “It’s a he, okay?” he stated, emphasizing the words.

Jungwon tapped Ni-ki’s leg, smiling reassuringly. “Hey, it’s cool. He just asked.”

“Oh? Who’s the guy? I’ve only ever heard your bandmates talk about his school,” the manager said innocently, eliciting a glare from Ni-ki.

“A cool teacher he met!” Sunoo chimed in, raising his hand enthusiastically. “Ni-ki just wanted to see where he worked.”

“Must be a close friend,” the manager remarked, his grin widening. “We’re here, by the way.”

Ni-ki beamed at the news while his bandmates quietly cheered him on. As he stepped out of the van, he couldn’t shake the image of your smile from his mind.

God, he’ll be so happy, Ni-ki thought, a wave of anticipation washing over him.

“Caps! Shades! Mask!” the manager commanded, snapping Ni-ki back to reality.

“Oh, right.” Ni-ki quickly grabbed his disguise—shades and a mask—to shield himself from the public eye. After all, he was a famous idol.

Moments later, he waved goodbye to his bandmates, who drove away swiftly with their other manager.

“I’m going to find the car we rented. Should be around here somewhere. I’ve got the keys, so you just stay here,” the manager instructed firmly.

"Got it." Ni-ki nodded. As he watched the manager leave, Ni-ki couldn't stand still at his current position. His feet jerked way too many times as he anxiously waited for the car.

Today, he only planned to get a glimpse of you. But it would be much better if he gets to interact with you ... and see your smile yet again. Ni-ki vould only blush and look down on his feet as he thought of it.

To his surprise, Ni-ki turned his head as he heard the school chimes. It wasn't a big school, but it surely looked prestigious. The design of the school was an older Neoclassical style, with a large bell tower that survived wars since its been built.

Of course, Ni-ki couldn't have ever known these facts if he wasn't intent on listening to every detail you shared with him. During your calls, he can only memorize all the things you've said to him. That's how you've been occupying his mind. Just a total overload of your voice fills his heart with bliss and warmth. Totally whipped as one would say.

In no time, students of all ages began to pour out of the gates—young kids chattering with friends, slightly older students engaged in lively conversations, and older students lounging around, soaking in the afternoon sun.

Ni-ki reminisced the times when he went to school too. Seeing all the kids there reminded him of his young social life, where he would often participate in events and talk to many people, whether they were his own age or not.

This made Ni-ki smile, remembering how fun it was when he wasn't such a busy idol.

But you know who made him smile even bigger? The sight of you, conversing with your co-teachers as you got out of the school doors. You wore a nice set of casual slacks that complemented your figure, and you had a comfy and fuzzy turtleneck that covered your otherwise impressive frame. To him, it looked like you were covered in marshmallows.

As you gazed around the school yard, you waved goodbye to your students. It was fun seeing them so involved in your class, and you couldn't be happier seeing them interact so happily with their other peers. It fulfills you, as you exhibit the life of an educator. Even though you still had so much you can dream, but can't even think of how it'll work out.

As you thread on the concrete path you stepped on, you thought of wanting to eat something from the local convenience store. A packed burrito? A sliced bread? Or a serving of dumplings? What would best satisfy you as you waited for the bus?

"Aw...” you exclaimed, scratching your head in surprise as you bumped onto a passerby. “Sorry, I—”

“No worries. I did that on purpose,” came the familiar, playful voice.

You looked up, and your heart raced as you met Ni-ki’s gaze, his handsome face adorned with a wide grin.

“Hi,” he beamed, a light of mischief in his eyes.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You!”

“Yeah, me—”

“Damn you and your face!” You exclaimed, instinctively shoving your hands toward him, playfully pushing him back as he stumbled slightly.

“Are you crazy? There are people around!” you admonished, your arms resting on the wall, effectively cornering him.

“Sorry. I just can’t help myself,” Ni-ki smirked, clearly enjoying the flustered state he had put you in.

“You...,” you started, trying to maintain your composure. “You know you’re famous, right?”

“I don’t really care,” he replied nonchalantly.

“I do!” you shot back, meeting his cheeky gaze. “Are you always this much of a headache to your bandmates?”

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, mock contemplation on his face. “Hmm, let me see if I’m really that silly.”

“My point is, this is a public place!” you insisted, feeling your cheeks warm.

Ni-ki held your hands gently, grounding you as he leaned in closer. “Sorry. Should’ve told you,” he said, his smile disarming.

“Aish,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m just your friend. Is it really worth all this trouble to see me?”

Ni-ki straightened up, his expression turning sincere. “I said I want to be closer.”

You looked away, trying to suppress the fluttering in your heart. “You did.”

“I said I want to see you often.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

“Can’t I make that effort?” Ni-ki’s eyes were unwavering, and you felt your resolve weakening.

You stammered, “I—I mean…”

“I just wanted to see you again. Is that so bad?” he asked, sincerity radiating from his every word.

At that moment, you felt the walls you had built around your heart crumbling. You sighed, knowing you couldn’t resist his charm any longer.

“You look cute,” Ni-ki complimented, his gaze warm and inviting.

You blushed fiercely. “You’re... unbearable.”

Ni-ki chuckled, tightening his grip on your hands. “Then learn to bear with me.”

You looked into his eyes, realizing that perhaps this was the beginning of something beautiful.

“Because I won’t be going anywhere.”

hope you like it HEEHEE

| masterlist! | previous | next |

⋆｡°✩ tfw your distance closes in...

tfw... | nishimura riki x male!reader

pairing: niki x male!reader genre: fluff word count: 1.5k warnings: drinking but not too deep okay its just they're very drunk

Is it really okay to admire someone from a distance? Or do you take the chance to take a step forward and inch closer towards them?

“Ni-ki!” A loud voice echoed through the bustling streets, where pedestrians strolled and cars zipped by.

The young boy sighed, turning his body towards the source of the call, setting down his trusty broomstick and pan. “Can you lower your voice, man?”

“I was calling you for the tenth time, man!”

“For what?”

“Did you get the mechanic? I need them right now. The damn faucet is leaking over here.”

Ni-ki scratched his head, placing the items he held aside. “I’ll call them up.”

As he ambled towards the store, he bumped into someone, causing the stranger to drop their belongings onto the pavement.

“Aish, sorry!” the guy blurted out, frantically picking up his things.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Ni-ki replied, glancing at the other guy.

In that moment, Ni-ki realized he had made a fatal mistake. Though the morning sun shone bright, casting an appealing glow over the guy, Ni-ki could see that he looked utterly disheveled. His messy hair and glistening forehead gave him an oddly captivating aura.

As Ni-ki’s gaze flickered down to the guy’s neck, he quickly turned away, his heart racing. What was happening to him? Was he under some kind of spell? Why was a simple office worker affecting him like this?

Lost in thought, Ni-ki watched as the guy reached for a fine orange that had rolled to his feet. Instinctively, Ni-ki grabbed the guy's wrist just as he was about to pick it up.

Their eyes met, and an unexplainable connection sparked between them.

“I... I was just going to—”

“Oh! Sorry!” Ni-ki exclaimed, realizing the intensity of the moment. He quickly withdrew his hand, but the other guy seized the chance to grab the orange before standing up and awkwardly bowing.

“Really sorry!” he smiled, his demeanor betraying a hint of embarrassment. Ni-ki couldn’t help but laugh internally, charmed by the guy’s unintended cuteness. The stranger then hurried out of the convenience store, leaving Ni-ki staring after him, still feeling the warmth of their brief connection.

Ni-ki stood frozen, thoughts racing in his mind. Why couldn’t he shake the guy from his thoughts? Why did it feel so unsettling yet exhilarating? Why was his chest tightening with something he couldn’t quite place?

“Hey!” A familiar booming voice jolted him back to reality, plus a hard-hitting chop to his nape got him.

“Yah! What was that for?” Ni-ki snapped, a bit disoriented.

“Can’t your sister hit you, huh?” the voice, unmistakably his sister’s, called again. “Spacing out on the job?”

“No…” he protested weakly.

“Whatever.” She sighed. “By the way, Dad needs you early at the studio today.”

Ni-ki's head shot up. “Help?”

“Just get there before lunch; he needs people today.”

He nodded and removed his working apron, still unable to shake off thoughts of the guy he had just met. The memory lingered, making it hard to focus.

Ni-ki was a diligent son, juggling his responsibilities at his sister's convenience store, attending an arts college, and coaching at his father's dance studio. Yet, despite all his hard work, love had always eluded him.

He wasn’t one to engage in social gatherings, and his quiet demeanor didn’t help. Though he enjoyed the attention from friends and admirers, he often felt isolated when it came to matters of the heart.

The prospect of cherishing someone, of satisfying someone he adored, was a beautiful thought. But it felt safer to admire from afar, to appreciate the joy in seeing them live their life happily, without imposing himself on them.

As he got home late from the studio, he found himself contemplating whether it would be okay to stop by your workplace. He knew you always and most often leave work so late at night. Just a quick glance couldn't hurt, he thought.

For months now, he would go on and on inside his head about how he should approach this, but he can only do so much thinking when it involves you.

Unfortunately, as much as he wanted to stay at a safe distance, he found his feet leading him toward you. There he stood at the bottom of your office building, admiring the view from down below.

As he moved to the side, he noticed you exiting the fancy establishment. He walked idly, contemplating where you were headed. Since you lived in the same area, it wouldn’t hurt to hitch a bus ride with you, he reasoned.

But then he saw you late at night, making your way to a bar. The generic-sounding name on the sign did little to impress him. Stepping inside with hesitation, Ni-ki made his way to follow you.

There, he observed you interacting with a guy. As he sat in the corner, trying to avoid the gazes of others, he felt a mix of annoyance and jealousy stirring within him.

But those feelings were unexplainable, so he kept them buried deep inside. Watching you get drunk was amusing, and he couldn’t help but laugh at your clumsiness, which brought him unexpected joy.

However, as the night wore on, the atmosphere between you and the guy grew increasingly tense. Ni-ki felt compelled to keep watch over you, having no idea who this guy was and what his intentions might be.

Moments later, Ni-ki spotted the guy approaching you inappropriately while you were clearly intoxicated. This fueled something inside him. Rage boiled as his feet moved on their own.

“Hey! You bastard!” he shouted, throwing a punch that sent the guy sprawling to the ground. The impact echoed through the alley, drawing the attention of a few nearby passersby.

The guy quickly scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with shock and fury. “Who the hell?” he snarled, wiping blood from his lip.

Ni-ki didn’t hesitate, charging forward with renewed determination. “Get away from him!” He landed another punch, this time connecting with the guy’s jaw, sending him staggering back again.

The guy swung wildly, trying to retaliate, but Ni-ki was quick on his feet. He dodged to the side and countered with a sharp kick to the guy’s side, causing him to double over. “Try that shit with me, I dare you!” he shouted, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The fight intensified, with Ni-ki darting around his opponent, throwing punches and dodging blows with a fierce intensity he didn’t know he possessed. Each strike felt like a declaration of his resolve to protect you, to be there for you in your moment of need.

“Pretty boy, can’t wait for the prize, huh?” the guy taunted, regaining his footing.

Ni-ki’s brow furrowed in anger. “You pig!” He charged forward again, landing another solid punch that sent the guy crashing into a stack of crates. With a primal instinct to protect, he followed up with a flurry of punches, each one fueled by a mix of anger and determination.

Finally, after a series of blows, the guy collapsed, groaning in defeat. Ni-ki stood over him, panting heavily, fists still clenched, ready for any further aggression. But the guy lay still, defeated and unable to rise.

Breathing heavily, Ni-ki turned his attention back to you, who was still sitting on a pile of cardboard boxes, looking dazed. As he approached, he felt a wave of flustered concern wash over him. You were clearly drunk, your eyes glassy and unfocused, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness.

“Hey, are you okay?” Ni-ki crouched down beside you, his heart racing as he took in your state. “You’re… you’re really drunk,” he said, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice.

You blinked slowly, trying to process his words. "Mmh..fine…” you slurred, but the way your head lolled to the side told him otherwise.

Ni-ki’s heart raced as he reached out, brushing a stray hair from your forehead. “No, you’re not. You need to rest.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Let me help you.”

Carefully, he slipped an arm under your shoulders and the other beneath your knees, lifting you gently. Your weight felt surprisingly comforting against him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of vulnerability that washed over him.

“...oohhh?” you murmured, your voice soft and slightly confused.

“Just relax, I’ve got you,” he replied, trying to sound steady despite the fluttering in his chest. As he adjusted his grip, you nestled your head against his shoulder, and he felt a rush of warmth spread through him.

“Why ...arhm ... you help..ing ... me..?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because… I couldn’t just leave you,” he admitted, a hint of shyness creeping into his tone. “You deserve better than this.”

He carried you through the alley, heart racing not just from the exertion, but from the closeness between you. He felt a mix of protectiveness and admiration, something he had never experienced so intensely before.

“Where are you going?” he asked as you rummaged through his room, searching for something.

“My phone! My bag!” you exclaimed, a hint of panic in your voice.

“What?” Ni-ki tilted his head, confusion written across his face. “You never had one.”

You froze, realizing you must've left it at the bar.

“Ugh…” You slumped into the nearest chair, messing up your hair in irritation. “I’m late for work!!!”

Ni-ki let out a light, airy laugh, the kind that made your heart skip a beat.

“Why are yo—”

“It’s Sunday today,” he replied, beaming.

Suddenly, it clicked. Your mouth dropped in realization, relief flooding over you.

“Oh…” you said softly. “Oh my god.”

Ni-ki laughed again this time with a bit of a more deep cadence, yet still an airy tone of amusement toward you.

Ahhh its here! Ni-ki won't let you catch no stray 🙈💙 My Masterlist!

nothing special butttt i want to know if u guys are seeing this hehe ... if i were to start a series of shorter one shots what themes or scenarios would be nice? just wanna get some specific ideas since having none is a struggle 😮‍💨 (no angst pls i cant take it anymore 😭)

⋆｡°✩ tfw a bad date leads to you...

tfw... | nishimura riki x male!reader

pairing: niki x male!reader genre: fluff word count: 2.3k warnings: drinking, implied stuff regarding drinking, implied stuff done by people when they encounter those who are wasted from drinking ...

Do you know that feeling when you meet someone so pretty it hurts your eyes a bit, and tugs your heart, and you feel like you're going to burst down in flames altogether where you stood? That's how exactly how you'll feel when someone just comes your way, being their cute little self.

"I'm tired." You sighed heavily as you rearranged the papers stacked neatly in front of you. It had already been a minute since you fiddled with them, not that you paid any attention to it anyway.

"Come on! It’s not like the end of the world if you tried getting out, right?" Thea, one of your co-workers, playfully tapped your back as she urged you to try another round of her matchmaking. To be honest, you had no confidence in getting anyone to date you with these blind dates. You just felt pity for your friend, however it may seem.

"I guess third time's a charm?" France, your other co-worker, leaned beside your desk. "You have to stop at some point, though. It’s still meeting strangers."

*Sigh.* Obviously, you sighed again.

"Fine, I'll go." You raised your hands in mock surrender. "But just because I don't want you to be sad, Thea."

"Yey! But it’s not for me; it’s for you!" Thea cheered. "It’s just one guy! We’ll have no idea if you don’t try now."

"Just be careful," France spoke, a hint of concern lacing his words as your friend. "The last time I saw you—"

"That was a mistake, France." You stood up quickly, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. "I should've just said no. Yet I insisted and got into some mess that you had to be called to rescue me. I still owe you for that."

France laughed quickly at this. "Pssh, it wasn't anything. You're my friend. It’s my job to look out for you."

"Uh-huh," Thea butted in, trying to suppress her laughter.

"Shut up, little person," France retorted quickly. "Best be on your way; I heard this guy booked you at 8."

"Yup! Just be on the dot!" Thea added, walking closer to you as you moved toward the elevator doors.

"Are they any better than the first guy?" you asked, feeling a flicker of hope. Maybe this guy might be worth a shot this time.

Thea laughed. "They will!"

"I'll hold you to that." You smirked as you saw the elevator doors open.

"Update us!" Thea waved as France settled behind her to see you off.

"Sure thing," you spoke as the elevator doors began to close.

The chime rang, and the shaft glided down the office floors you had grown accustomed to over the past year. Quickly getting a job after graduation had been a breeze, but all the things you had to do after that were another story. Living alone in the city was a hassle, especially with your boss’s constant demands since you were a new hire. It was probably because of your talent for working a little too hard that you might be a teensy bit gullible at this point, but oh well... It pays. So you might as well.

As for love, you never really had one. Not that it didn't interest you, but rather, you had waited for it, and it never came. You had never entertained anyone, but who would court someone as plain and boring as you? You worked hard enough to be buried in files and stacks of paperwork, so you never thought anyone would understand you on that level.

In some terms, you had given up already. But right now, it wasn’t the case. Right now, you were being given chances to see people. You never really had a preference for who to go out with—basically any type. You just wanted someone to look your way, and maybe it would spark that flame inside you too.

On your way to the bar, you saw a large sign on the side of a fancy-looking establishment. It read 'Retro Palace.' Not that it was important, but it sounded really generic. Instead of wallowing in the dilemma of the establishment's name, you stepped inside to see crowds of people. There was no way you could properly do a blind date in a place like this. Plus, you were never a club person. In fact, you hated parties and events that needed crowds. But maybe this was worth a shot. Maybe?

As you entered, you sliced through the middle of the pool of people, who were doing all kinds of things: dancing, shouting, conversing, and more. There was definitely a vibe that every person inside that place exuded.

You remembered you were supposed to go to the second floor, a platform dedicated to dining and feeling a lot more relaxed than the ground floor mess you were in. You spotted it clearly in the distance. A spiral staircase led to the top, where a small luxurious bar sat between rows of fine seats that could cater to just about anyone.

Feeling fancy, you adjusted your attire. It wasn’t your favorite combo, but you couldn’t refuse a gift from your co-worker. The suit was tight, and the colors didn’t really match your face. In any case, it still looked good with the way you carried it, but wearing it was definitely another case entirely.

As you tried to find the best seat, your phone rang. To your surprise, it was your supposed date.

"Oh, hey! I'm here." You smiled as you answered quickly.

"Yup, I can see you from where I'm sitting," the other person chuckled over the line, seemingly already inside the establishment.

"Oh? Where?" You turned to your sides to find the mysterious date.

"The nearest table to the bar. To your left." You squinted again to your left and found a guy standing and waving his hand. Looks like you’re in for a good night.

Although walking closer, it didn’t seem to click. As much as he was good-looking, there wasn't that connection you were hoping to find. It felt... odd. Maybe it was just the norm since you had never met this guy before. The night was still young.

As the guy opened up a seat for you, you thanked him for the gesture and settled in comfortably. He introduced himself.

"Hi! I'm Chang. You must be?"

"Yup, in the flesh," you nodded. Whoever Thea had connections with, she sure had many. This was the second guy she referred to, but it did seem she had a whole collection up her sleeve of people to refer. It seemed... concerning. But that was for another day.

The conversation started light, but as the minutes passed, you felt the disconnect grow. Chang had a pleasant demeanor, but your mind wandered. You were trying to connect, but something felt off.

“Have you been to any other places like this?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Not really. I prefer quieter spots,” you replied, feeling a mix of anxiety and discomfort.

“Ah, come on! You gotta live a little!” Chang laughed, but it felt forced, like he was trying too hard.

As you looked around, a waiter walked near and handed you two drinks. Chang clasped his hands around yours and served it on his own.

"Here. Got you a fine mix for the night. On me." Chang smiled broadly as he mixed your drink with the straw it came with. That was... a gesture for sure. You could only smile so wearily.

Chang then raised his drink and moved closer to you.

"To more chances of seeing your handsome face up close. Cheers." His eyes meticulously focused on you, prompting chills down your spine. Was this what real nerves were supposed to feel like? Or just cringe?

"Sure. Cheers." You could have never said that more tiredly. Almost doing it all for the sake of finishing the date, you drank the mix in one go. Chang's eyes widened at your action, but he nevertheless still enjoyed watching you unravel little by little.

As you took another sip from your glass, you felt the warmth intensifying, the drink beginning to take effect. The tension that had settled in your shoulders began to ease, and you found yourself laughing at Chang's jokes, even if they weren’t particularly funny.

“Alright, let’s play a game,” Chang suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Two truths and a lie! I’ll go first.”

You leaned in closer, intrigued despite yourself. The game had a way of breaking the ice, and at this moment, you needed a distraction from the gnawing feeling of disconnect. Chang quickly rattled off his statements, and you found yourself engaged, playing along.

As the minutes turned into hours, you began to notice something unsettling about Chang. His laughter felt a bit too loud, his gestures a bit too exaggerated, and the way he leaned in closer made you feel uneasy. You brushed it off at first, attributing it to the atmosphere of the bar and the alcohol coursing through your veins.

“Another round?” Chang asked, his smile wide and inviting.

“Why not?” you said, raising your glass, feeling more adventurous than ever. You downed your drink, the sensation of the alcohol igniting a fire within you that you hadn’t expected. You weren't really a big fan of drinking, but when you did, you always tended to go all out.

But as the night wore on, the laughter grew quieter, and your surroundings began to shift. The edges of your vision blurred, and the sounds around you became muffled. You could sense the growing warmth of the alcohol wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

“Hey, I think I need a breather,” you mumbled, standing up unsteadily. The room swayed slightly, and Chang reached out to steady you, a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Let’s step outside for a bit,” he suggested, guiding you toward the exit. As you stepped outside, the cool air hit your face, but it couldn’t chase away the feeling of unease that settled in your stomach.

“Feeling good?” Chang asked, leaning in a little too close for comfort. His breath smelled of alcohol, and you could see the way his eyes roamed over you, making your skin crawl.

“Uh, yeah, just… need some fresh air,” you replied, trying to put some distance between you.

“Come on, don’t be shy. You know you had fun tonight,” he said, his tone dripping with false charm. “Why don’t we continue this party just the two of us?”

Your heart raced as you realized the implications of his words. “I think I should really be going,” you said, attempting to step back.

But Chang blocked your path, his expression shifting from playful to something darker. “Oh, come on. You’re not going to leave me hanging after all this fun, are you?” His gaze lingered a little too long, and the way he reached out to brush a stray hair behind your ear sent shivers down your spine.

“Seriously, I need to go,” you insisted, your voice trembling slightly.

“Just relax,” he said, his smile widening unnaturally as he leaned closer. “We can have a lot more fun. Just you and me.”

The panic set in, and before you could respond, the world around you began to blur again. You could feel the warmth of the alcohol wrapping around you like a heavy blanket, pulling you down into darkness.

“Hey, don’t you want to have a good time?” Chang’s voice echoed in yo̵u̸r̷ ̸m̵i̸n̶d̷ ̶a̷s̴ ̷e̶v̶e̸r̷y̷t̴h̵i̸n̸g̶ ̸f̷a̵d̵e̷d̵ ̶t̴o̶ ̶b̴l̸a̴c̸k̴.̷

Your eyes jolted awake, blinking against the sunlight streaming through a window. The air smelled of something delicious—bacon and eggs? As you looked around, a weight shifted, seemingly on top of you, and you looked down to find a small, fluffy dog staring intently at you.

Strange... It was a dog you vaguely recognized, who tilted his head, his big eyes full of curiosity. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, the dog's innocent demeanor contrasting sharply with the confusion swirling in your mind.

As you took in your surroundings, you realized you were in an unfamiliar room. The cozy space was decorated with simple but charming furnishings that felt oddly welcoming. The faint sound of sizzling came from the kitchen nearby.

“You're awake. That's good.” A calm voice called from that direction. You turned to see a figure moving about, clearly busy preparing breakfast.

“Uh, morning?” you managed to reply, your voice still thick with sleep.

“You must be hungry. You really knocked back those drinks last night.” A young man with a relaxed demeanor approached, holding a plate full of food.

Your heart sank slightly, memories of the previous night flooding back but feeling scattered and muddled. You recalled laughter, games, and warmth, but something about the night felt off, like a detail on the tip of your tongue that you couldn’t quite grasp.

"Wait... You're..."

"Not the guy you were with last night? Definitely." The young man smirked. "I'm Nishimu— I mean, just Ni-ki is fine."

You tilted your head, curious as to who this man was. He looked too young, too bright, and well ... too handsome. He only wore a grey tank top, exposing his bare arms that were a bit defined. Not that it mattered, he was in the comfort of his own home anyway. His eyes were sharp, but not piercing through you. Instead, they were filled with simple concern. As he sat next to you, he brushed stray hair from your face. With the way he treated you, you couldn't help but feel a light warmth buzzing over your cheeks. That was certainly... a reaction.

“Did I… did I spend the night here?” you asked cautiously, looking around as you distracted yourself from the thought you just had.

Ni-ki shrugged, his expression steady and thoughtful. “Yeah, you were out cold when we got back. I couldn’t just leave you on the street. You were shivering all over here. Bisco was worried, you know?”

You glanced at Bisco, who had jumped off the bed and was now wagging his tail happily, oblivious to your unease. "Oh... That's a nice name."

"Thanks..." "..." "Oh, you meant the dog? Cool. Cool, cool."

“...but thank you.” You replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Also, I don’t really remember much after stepping outside.”

“Things can get a bit wild sometimes,” Ni-ki said, his tone calm but with an underlying sense of understanding. “You seemed like you were having fun, but it’s always good to be careful.”

Your heart raced as unease gripped you tighter. You felt trapped in a moment that should have been carefree, with Bisco’s warm presence only slightly comforting against the growing realization that something was very wrong.

oooh! cliffhanger! woo! hopefully i get to write more hehe. also ... niki ... 🥺💙 more stories? check out my masterlist

⋆｡°✩ your idol answers your call

I-800-LOVE-YOU | nishimura riki x male!reader

pairing: niki x male!reader

genre: fluff (silly ni-ki)

word count: 1.6k

notes: couldn't wait so i had to do another round for ni-ki AAAAAAA i love him sm guys 🥺

After a lively fan meeting, you grapple yourself with self-doubt and curiosity, ultimately dialing ENHYPEN Ni-ki’s number, unsure of what to expect.

You fiddled with your phone as your fingers moved through the virtual keys. Contemplating, you bit your lip while burying yourself in deep thought.

Should I expect him to personally answer? you thought to yourself. He's probably messing with me, another thought fluttered through your mind. Is this really it? The final realization hit you hard.

With a hesitant push, you dialed the number that was given to you. You didn't even know why you did it, but curiosity propelled you forward.

Out of all the people inside that hall, why you? Why had that idol paid attention to you? Was it because of how you looked? How you spoke? A myriad of reasons swirled in your mind, but it was never too late to—

"Hello?"

You jolted in shock and nearly tossed your phone onto your bed. Fortunately, you had pressed the loudspeaker, allowing the somewhat familiar tone to resonate through the room.

"Hellooo~" the other person tried again, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"Ah, um…"

"Ah, um?"

"I-it's me… The guy from—"

"Yeah!" Ni-ki hurriedly responded, catching his breath before attempting to regain his composure. "I-I mean, I wasn't… waiting or anything. Ahem."

"Oh." You spoke, surprised by his abrupt tone change, but strangely, it didn't bother you.

Ni-ki felt a surge of cringe as he realized he had come off too dismissive. "I-I meant I had something to do… But it's good to hear from you."

A smile crept onto your face. You probably misunderstood what the young idol meant, so you let that small bit go unnoticed.

"Busy?" you asked, genuinely concerned.

"As a bee," Ni-ki answered quickly.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Bzzzzz~"

You laughed as you heard him starting to speak gibberish from across the line. Little did you know, your laughter triggered something in him—an unexpected flutter of butterflies dancing within. Just folly, he thought, but the feeling was undeniable.

"Don't laugh at me. I am busy as a bee," Ni-ki insisted with mock sass.

"I know, I know, you're a performer and all."

Both of you fell quiet for a moment, caught in a comfortable silence. It was a raw bit, something rarely captured in dramas—the unspoken thoughts lingering between you.

"Let me get straight to it." You shifted in your chair. "Why did you want me to call you back?"

Ni-ki spun around in his chair, searching for a reasonable answer but struggling to articulate his thoughts. "You just… seemed different to me. That's all."

Although you found his answer somewhat vague, you had to believe it. There was probably no other reason, but you were willing to accept anything over nothing to satisfy your curiosity.

"Hmm. Is it because I'm the only guy there earlier?"

"What do you mean? There's us—"

"You're from a boy group. It's not really commonplace, so I understand." You spoke, drawing from your earlier life experiences.

"Ah yeah. But no!" Ni-ki leaned back in his chair, clearing his throat to emphasize his point. "I just wanted to get to know why someone like you was there that day."

Another curious answer from Ni-ki made you tilt your head.

"It doesn't seem strange to me," he continued. "I just wanted to know why you're a fan."

You smiled, beginning to understand his perspective. You were well aware of how much idols valued their fans, but this was close enough to make you melt into a puddle.

"Actually," you tried to speak clearly through the phone. "I just got into Korea. Back home, I was caught up in a lot of things. And before that, I wasn't really familiar with you guys."

Ni-ki's surprise was palpable. "You're not Korean?"

Now, it was your turn to be shocked. "Wah… That's the part you're surprised about?"

"I mean, you looked cool," he mused, trying to recall how you had appeared earlier. "You were definitely there to tease me, trying to catch my attention and stealing it from my other fans." He chuckled, a slight smirk forming on his lips.

"Hey!" You defended. "I wasn't really doing anything!"

Ni-ki laughed loudly, attempting to ease the atmosphere. "I was kidding."

A brief silence followed.

"You really looked quite different, so I had to take the chance," he said earnestly.

You contemplated his words. Ni-ki seemed like a young guy who probably never truly got to enjoy his teenage years. It must have been endless practices and recitals, training and such. You couldn't even fathom what he had to endure all those years before meeting him.

"So you wanted someone to be friends with, hmm?" you ventured, surprised at your own boldness.

"That and… I don't really like talking to just anyone," Ni-ki sighed. "It may get me hate, but sometimes, people feel too comfortable with me. It bothers me that I can't move without people constantly trying to get a hold of me."

You listened carefully as he spoke, his words revealing a sincere longing for companionship. Despite the uncertainty, you found yourself wanting to lend an ear.

"I get it," you replied after a moment of silence.

"Yeah."

"Then I'll lend you my own ear. Or whatever you want."

Ni-ki's face lit up with pure gladness. As he heard your words, he leaned closer to the phone. "Then be my fan."

You quirked your brows at this unexpected request. "Huh?"

"You said you really weren't an Engene as much as you want to be, so I'll challenge you to be one. Maybe someone solely supporting me. Yeah?" Ni-ki said, trying to frame it as a challenge.

You pondered for a moment before arriving at a conclusion.

"Fine. I'll be a fan."

Ni-ki raised his hand triumphantly. "No wait! Something better. I've got one!"

You waited, curious about what he might come up with this time.

"Let's get closer with each other. How about that?"

You were taken aback. Was he trying to hit on you, or was this some kind of prank? Surely he wasn't joking at this hour?

"Ni-ki, right? Are you okay? How can a fan be—"

"Just keep me company," Ni-ki smiled, his sincerity shining through. "I would love to have a new face keep watch over me."

You tried to process the ridiculous idea but all you could do was agree and comply with his whimsy.

"You sure it's okay?" you asked cautiously. He was a popular idol, after all. There were too many caveats to befriending someone this famous.

"We'll be fine," Ni-ki reassured you, wanting you to trust him. He aimed to prove himself reliable in moments like this.

You thought for a long while, weighing your options. All of that led to an answer you had already predicted.

"Sure." You smiled. "I'll be your friend, Ni-ki."

"Nishimura Riki." He stated proudly. "That's my full name."

You chuckled lightly. "I knew that. I've read tons of guides about you guys."

Ni-ki rolled his eyes, a playful grin on his face. "Sure. But you've got the actual me here right now. Let me be your guide. Hmm?"

You thought again, but this time, it didn’t require much deliberation. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

"Call me whatever you want," Ni-ki offered.

"Ni-ki still sounds cool."

"You don't think it's boring?"

"I think it's uniquely you. Ni-ki."

Ni-ki smiled as he heard his name from your voice. It felt like a sweet haven to him.

"Then I won't bother you anymore tonight," Ni-ki said, preparing to let you rest.

"That's alright. You should go rest too," you replied, sending your regards. "Thanks for answering."

Ni-ki brushed his hair back as he heard your gratitude. "I just had the phone in my hand; you were very lucky."

You chuckled. "Whatever. Goodnight, Ni-ki."

"Goodnight!" Just then, he heard the beep signaling the end of the call.

"Aish! I tapped too early!" You muttered as you slipped your finger toward the end button. "He probably thinks I'm inconvenienced by his call! Ughhh!"

As you thought about that awkward end call, it was a separate situation for Ni-ki.

"Wait, I hung up on my ear?!" Ni-ki exclaimed, clutching the skin flap of his left ear.

Heeseung laughed as he watched Ni-ki fumble with his phone, pacing around the room in confusion.

"He's totally going to think I got bored! Hyung, help me out!" Ni-ki plopped down on the soft couch, bouncing Heeseung from the other side.

"Yah!" Heeseung wailed. "Ugh. Don't dwell on it too much. You did pretty good."

Ni-ki scratched his head, contemplating whether he should call you again.

"Don't even bother; the guy was already confused as to why you liked him," Jay chimed in from a seat away. "It's best if you talk together somewhere outside. A nice meal would be a good treat for him, no?"

Ni-ki looked at Jay, a smile creeping onto his face. "That actually sounds nice. Thanks, hyungs!" he clasped his hands together, acting with a respectful bow as he exited the living room.

Left to their own devices, Heeseung and Jay settled into the couch Ni-ki had just vacated.

"He clearly had the hots for that guy the moment he saw him," Jay said, cracking open a pack of chips.

"Love at first sight, I guess?" Heeseung smiled at the memory, diving his hands into the cheesy snack in front of him. "God, that's good. Mmhm."

"Hopefully, he can be honest with the guy," Jay remarked, munching away. "He needs someone to be his emotional support right now."

Heeseung turned to Jay, a questioning look on his face. "Don't we all?"

Jay chuckled. "Just let him be. We've got his back if things go south." He tapped Heeseung's back reassuringly.

Heeseung smiled, reflecting on how Ni-ki was growing up each day. It was a thought that warmed his heart, and he hoped for the best for his friend.

HEHE I HOPE YOU LIKED IT YALLLL

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⋆｡°✩ your idol gives you his number

I-800-LOVE-YOU | nishimura riki x male!reader

pairing: niki x male!reader

genre: fluff (not sure if wholesome but def not angst 😂)

word count: 1.8k

notes: first work ever here LOL! i do describe things a lot, but sometimes I just skip and go~ also pls forgive the writing errors, my englishing isn't english enough 🖐😭

There's only so much a fan could get to experience, but there's an unhealthy amount of delusion if you think a random number written by your idol on your wrist means anything at all. Give it a call?

It wasn't a typical day, given that it wasn't really a typical week either.

Last Tuesday, you're friend introduced you to a new k-pop group called ENHYPEN. Wednesday, you tried to browse their discography and learned that even though they we're a new group, they had such a lot of content out already for you to binge. Thursday, the finalization for your work in South Korea just got settled. Being a teacher wouldn't be so bad, and you're lucky you've befriended your bestest most reliable and quirky bestfriend that offered to take you in while you earned for a living.

Friday, you settled your tickets, and come Saturday you've boarded, landed and arrived at Seoul safe and sound. Sunday was a fun day out, with your bestfriend taking you to various places to get familiar with, and having the best meals while you still have the time to spare. Monday came and your friend just told you the loudest announcement you've ever heard since gaining stable consciousness from your flight jetlag.

"I GOT THE FANMEET TICKETS!!"

"Fanmeet?" You jolted in surprise. You were familiar with how k-pop works, but you've only ever supported one group.  You've never even been in a concert, so this was a shocker to still hear upclose.

"Which group was it again?" You asked.

"Enhypen!! I'm going to see Jungwonnie!! AAAA!!!" Your bestfriend shrieked happily as she ran fast towards her room. It seemed like couldn't really hide her happiness, and that you were glad for her.

A sudden creak of the door prompts you to turn around again.

"Oh, and you're coming too! Get ready!"

What's that? A surprised look on your face? Yes, yes it is. Your jaw might drop so you better get your hands and put it back in place. You don't even fully know who these people are, and yet you feel ... Happy? Elated? It seemed like maybe fate had a big plan for you after all.

Tuesday — you sat on the comfortable plastic chair aligned beside the walls, waiting for a cue that seemingly got more longer as you waited and waited. You sighed, only looking from to side to side to find your bestfriend. She did say she was going for a quick break, but you really don't think '20' minutes count as 'quick'.

"Bestie, I'm here! Sorry, I had to retouch for a bit... I can't be looking all toasty and tired for my Wonnie! You agree right?"

Just as she arrives, the next line of fans are being called by the organizing staff, all by their names to enter the hall where the idols are.

Chills. Sweating. Nervousness. You couldn't even feel a single nerve as you entered the place. It was quite a comfortably quiet hall. There were atleast two more lines of avid fans, all kept between stanchions and more rows of stanchions. But nothing compares to the stage area to the furthest postion from where you stood. Lights were on and focused still for the seven gentlemen sat behind a large extended desk.

"Six ... Seven. Huh ... I guess they're also seven." You counted the members by head as they seemed so little and out of reach from your postion. Looking in, you start to see the appeal of these people to your friend and the fans around you. They seemed fresh, happy, and had an overall positive aura eminating from them even from afar. The line took yet another couple of minutes before finally you're in the best seat in the house, the front of these handsome young gentlemen.

"H-hello! I would love for you to sign this please-" You tried your best to present yourself as a long time fan. As awkward it may seem, you can't let it be embarassing for the both of you guys. You just had to make it seem casual because ONE, you might get cancelled for being fake and TWO, it just feels awkward to have a chance fo meet an idol who probably had a better supporter than you who doesn't even have a bias yet.

Heeseung looked at you funnily, seemingly knowing what's going through your head. "You gotta commit to the bit. Not a lot of fans get the chance, mhm?" His smile blinded your eyes a bit... is it possible to hide a star inside the roof of your mouth?

"S-sorry ... Nerves... And stuff..." You spoke a little too good about your condition. Too good that Jay turned his head hearing your voice.

"You sound good with your Korean! Really natural." He said as you move forward in front of him.

"Thank you! Trying my best to get the hang of it." You smiled as you exchanged glances and laugh with Jay. You really did your best to smile and act courteous to the idols. They seemed like a good bunch, so you had to express your gratitude for them representing those fans that are definitely much better suited for this that you.

While you take your time to chat with the other members, one particular boy kept looking your way.

"No way that's natural." Ni-ki spoke.

Jungwon turned his head towards the younger one, who kept glancing at the same spot for minutes now.

"Aish, you can't just say that. Besides, that hair color suits them no?"

Ni-ki sighs. Jungwon points his brow in interest.

"What?" The older boy said.

"Hyung, he's too pretty to be here. I'll loose my job."

Jungwon burst out laughing as Ni-ki spun a nice joke out of nowhere. "You can't be serious. He's just a fanboy. And what do we do with Engenes? We appreciate them, not get scared because they look too good." Jungwon then looked back again. "Then again, he does look good."

But the young boy never meant that he was scared, but he was just really mesmerized. He can't seem to put any words in his head somehow, yet when he looks at this one specific guy, a warm spot in the pit of his stomach started to wrap his body in familiarity. He just seems comfortable, seeing such a pretty sight.

Sunoo then tried to butt in to the conversation. "He's the first fanboy this fanmeet today. Extremely rare. Usually they're four or five."

"We'd be lucky to have that, the staff barely accomodates fanboys during fanmeets." Jungwon smirked as he turned his chair towards the other. "Were you desperately looking for male Engenes?"

"Ugh! No. I was just- you know what. I'll be busy. Hi there-* Sunoo smiles as he tended to the next Engene in line.

A couple of minutes later, you were already at the last gentleman. Standing right across you is Ni-ki, the group's youngest member. He stares at you quite long, enough to warrant a tap from his manager to speed it up.

"Hi..." You tried to sound confident, yet it doesn't seem to work when you say it outloud. Might as well bury yourself in the ground no?

"Sorry." Niki shrugged as he leaned forward from his seat.

"Huh?"

"With the way I kept staring at you? You just seem so good looking. I mean, I have to be honest." Ni-ki smiled as he tried his best to be 'cool' around you. He doesn't want his idol image tarnished, so he probably thought the best way to show his appreciation is to act nonchalantly. Of course, his older members beside him can only snicker.

"Ah? I... Thank you I guess." You shyly try to brush your bangs off your face from embarrassment. Ni-ki smiled as it seemed he found a way to fluster you, while you try and sit properly and take the compliment slowly and surely like a hard pill.

"So ... Want me to sign that for you?" Ni-ki asked gently. You snap out of your quick trance and gathered your self, retreiving the album from your lap that already received six fine signatures.

"H-here!" You almost shouted, making Ni-ki shoot his eyes wide at you and chuckle a bit. He looked cute while doing that, you thought. As you tried to pass the album on top of the desk, his hands graze yours. It was as if there was a slight electric pull that got you hot and bothered. Ni-ki can only look at the spot on his hand were you touched.

"Got warm hands huh?" Ni-ki slapped himself for such a dumb comment, yet it is true. The moment his hands grazed yours by accident, it was as if he's instantly charmed by you. Its impossible it's magic, but it did send some chills in his spine. Good chills. Lovingly sweet chills.

You tried to smile at his comment, but you couldn't even comprehend a word he said. You were just nervous as heck. But it paid off — you got to score a free fanmeeting from your bestfriend and now you were talking to seven handsome gentlemen, especially this mysterious seventh one.

After a quick write, Ni-ki passed on the album towards your direction. While handing it, he took his chance to finally hold your hand.

"Oh-" Right, this is normal. You've seen in other pictures out there than idols hold their fan's hands for a short second. It was just ... Too nerve-racking.

"You've got to let me see you again." Ni-ki's face was eager to wait for your response. It seems he was quickly mesmerized by your minimal yet warm presence today.

Thinking of an answer on top of your head, you can only blurt out honestly. "I'm afraid I don't really have that much money in me to buy another chance." Ni-ki and the other members by his side laughed discreetly.

"You don't need to worry. We'll wait for you!" Jungwon snuck himself to the conversation, with an adoring fan next to you smiling.

Does that mean he can't see him anymore? This young man's fascination has to just end like that? Ni-ki pondered quickly as he realized he might never get to see you again. After all, he knows the struggle of getting into this fanmeets and such.

He grabs your hand in a quick tug and places it to the side, the end of the extended desk where no one can really see what's being done.

"Wha-"

"Let me see you again."

You tilted your head. An idol wanting you to come back? And so desperately? It doesn't seem like an ill intention, perhaps just morbid curiosity? But of what kind?

"Uhm-"

"Here." Ni-ki brought out his marker and wrote a string of unfamiliar digits onto your bare arm.

"What's this?" You tilted your head.

"Can you call me soon? Promise I won't make you uncomfortable."

You quirked your eyebrow. Did this idol just, give you his number? You should be screaming right? Jumping for joy and rubbing it to everyone's faces?

"I'm just interested to know more about you." Ni-ki smiled this time, his eyes closing in like a wide smile across his features, showing genuine hope for a call.

"S-sure." You smiled back. It did seem genuine, and now your arm has been completely vandalized by an idol.

You look at the digits before getting a light tap from the security personnel behind you.

Ni-ki waved goodbye as you were guided down the stage. You looked at the set of digits to memorize them and then hid your arm with the written contact under your sleeves.  It must've been strange, but it sure wouldn't hurt to see where this leads, right?

Requests OPEN! I'm trying to fill up my new account with stories I just love to write so if you guys want something out there (esp. male! reader stories) lmk!

This was a blast and hooh I have not written in a while 🙈

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tapes

⋆.˚✮ hard hours

heeseung

jay

jake

sunghoon

sunoo

jungwon

ni-ki

ot7

⋆.˚✮ drabbles

heeseung

jay

jake

sunghoon

sunoo

jungwon

ni-ki

ot7

⋆.˚✮ headcanons

heeseung

jay

jake

sunghoon

sunoo

jungwon

ni-ki

ot7

⋆.˚✮ texts

heeseung

jay

jake

sunghoon

sunoo

jungwon

ni-ki

ot7

nonsense - s.jy

pairing: loser shy tutor!sim jaeyun x outgoing tutee fem!reader

synopsis: you're loud, confident, and a little too good at making shy boys squirm. your only issue is you’ve always hated physics—until you meet your painfully shy tutor, jake sim. he’s awkward, brilliant, and blushes every time you call him cute. so naturally, you flirt. hard. at first, he stammers and short-circuits, but as study sessions stack up, jake starts to change. maybe it’s the way you lean a little too close or how he starts to flirt back (badly, but adorably).

featuring: jake sim of enhypen n maki from &team!!

genre: college au fluff!!!

warnings: jake has his first kiss, making-out?? kind of. a bit of jealousy, jake is just a super cute loser. lowercase intended ◡̈

playlist: nonsense by sabrina carpenter & soft spot by keshi

wc: 2.411k

a/n: i fear i will ride the loser jake wave forever! i love nerdy men <3 btw this is not proofread...

you’ve always hated physics.

not because you didn’t get it — okay, maybe a little because of that — but mostly because it was boring. theories and forces and laws. rinse and repeat. you weren’t failing physics. not exactly.

you were, however, spending an uncomfortable amount of time squinting at your textbook wondering how the hell you’d gone from memorizing song lyrics in under a minute to barely remembering newton’s third law. you told yourself it wasn’t that bad. then your lab partner dropped out, and your professor kindly suggested that you “seek out support.”

support came in the form of jake sim.

quiet. polite. a little too handsome for his own good. glasses-wearing, formula-spouting jake, with a habit of ducking his head when people talked too loudly. you’d seen him around campus before — usually alone, sometimes reading while walking (impressive), always in a hoodie two sizes too big, and baggy jeans that he almost steps on. 

you’d think he was popular, but those thick framed glasses always resting on his perfect nose made you think otherwise. 

your meet-cute wasn’t the typical coffee-spill-and-eye-contact thing. it happened last semester, during an elective you were both in: intro to astronomy. you’d been running late one day, flustered and frantic, only one seat left in the lecture hall. next to him. you took it.

he didn’t even glance up.

not until halfway through the class, when you leaned over and whispered, “sorry if i’m invading your orbit.”

he looked at you like he didn’t get the joke. (he didn’t.)

but later that day, you got an anonymous compliment on the university confessions page. “to the girl who sat next to me in astronomy and said something about orbits… you kind of wrecked mine.”

you knew it was him. and you never forgot.

───

“you don’t have to hover,” jake mumbled, eyes focused on the problem set in front of him.

“i’m not hovering. i’m observing… like a particle. you know, in motion.”

“that’s not… how particles work.”

you smiled to yourself. “i was hoping you'd say that.”

he flushed immediately. jake didn’t handle flirting well. hell, he had never even felt the touch of a woman, nevertheless flirted with one. 

you’d learned this by session two. if you got too close, he got tongue tied. if you complimented him, he’d practically glitch. it was fascinating. like a physics experiment, but cuter.

“what happens when you apply an external force to a closed system?” you asked, tapping your pencil.

he looked up slowly, suspicious. “depends on the force.”

you leaned in, gaze playful. “what if it’s me?”

he froze.

“y/n,” he said quietly, “you’re not even trying to learn right now.”

“that’s where you’re wrong, mr. sim.” you leaned back in your chair, spinning your pencil between your fingers. “i’ve been learning a lot.”

he narrowed his eyes, skeptical but intrigued. “like what?”

you met his gaze, serious now. “like how you pretend you didn’t notice me in astronomy last semester. even though you did.”

jake stiffened. his pen slipped from his fingers and rolled across the table.

“i—i didn’t—how did you—”

“i recognized your handwriting,” you said softly. “from the confession post.”

his face went scarlet.

you tilted your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “you called me orbit girl.”

jake looked like he wanted to disappear into the earth’s mantle. “i didn’t think you saw that.”

“i did. i screenshotted it.” you shrugged casually, then added, “still have it.”

he looked like you’d just told him you’d been keeping a shrine in your closet. but beneath the panic, something else flickered — hope, maybe?

“…why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

and there it was. the plot twist.

you dropped your eyes to your notebook, fingers idly brushing a corner.

“i was going to,” you said. “but you never talked to me again. i figured you weren’t interested.”

jake looked stunned. like he’d just missed the punchline to his own joke.

“no! i mean– um…i wasn’t not interested,” he said quickly. “i just didn’t think someone like you would ever…”

“what?” you said, raising a brow. “flirt with their physics tutor?”

jake swallowed hard. “like me back.”

there was a beat of silence. you reached across the table, nudging his pen back toward him.

“you’re cute when you’re nervous, jake” he blushed and wrapped up the tutoring session, brain too flustered to continue talking about his second favorite subject (you’re his favorite). 

───

you asked around for jake’s number which proved to be very difficult. 

no one had it.

so, you did the only thing you could think of. you went to every cafe within a 15 mile radius of your campus, hoping to find the shy boy.

your mission to find him ended up taking longer than anticipated, misjudging how many cafe’s surrounded decelis. you’ve been to 23 and counting, not once finding the fluffy haired boy with glasses way too big for his adorable face. 

as you walk into the twenty-fourth cafe, you think you see him. striped shirt, slightly messy brown hair, around 5’9ish. you walk up to him, tapping on his shoulder when someone behind you calls your name.

“y/n?”

you whip your head around to be met with those big, dark hazel eyes you adored so much.

his plump, heart-shaped lips were wrapped around the straw of his green grape ade, softly biting the plastic. his head was strewn to the side, resembling a golden retriever. 

“i found you!” you happily cheered as you made your way to the little table he was at. 

“f-found me? were you… looking? for me?” he stuttered which made you giggle. 

you fondly smiled at him, “yeah. i was.”

after you ordered an iced mocha, you guys sat in a comfortable silence until you spoke. 

“so,” you said, stirring whipped cream into your drink, “what’s a physics genius like you doing tutoring me when you could be dating someone who understands quantum mechanics?”

jake almost spat out his coffee.

you smiled sweetly. “kidding. kind of.”

“i—i don’t think I’m a genius,” he mumbled. “and I’m not — uh — dating anyone.”

“oh, i know,” you said casually, resting your chin on your hand. “campus gossip moves fast.”

jake’s eyes widened. “wait — what do you mean? what gossip? about me?”

you laughed. “relax, jake. you’re just a bit of a mystery. tall, soft spoken, brainy, never goes to parties. people notice.”

he stared at you like you’d told him he was famous.

you sipped your drink and shrugged. “i noticed.”

the cup trembled in his hand.

“…thanks?” he said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

you leaned forward. “you say that like you don’t believe me.”

jake’s mouth opened, then closed again.

he was still trying to respond when the barista called out your name, signaling your pastries were ready. you winked at him on the way up and when you turned back, he was still watching you, straw halfway to his mouth, like he couldn’t believe any of this was real. 

───

you had your feet up on the seat across from you, swinging gently as you skimmed your notes. jake sat across from you, hoodie sleeves shoved up to his elbows, manspreading with his textbook open on his lap.

you knew what you were doing when you stretched, your shirt riding up slightly as you leaned across the table to reach a pencil. you knew jake saw. his eyes darted down and back up so fast it was like a reflex.

“everything okay?” you asked sweetly.

“fine!” he said, voice three octaves too high. “great. normal. yup.”

you laughed, tossing your pen down. “you know, if we were measuring awkward tension in this room, we’d have to switch to the richter scale.”

jake groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “why are you like this?”

“because it’s fun watching you short-circuit.”

he peeked at you through his fingers, a lopsided grin starting to form. “you’re evil.”

“i prefer charming.’”

there was a beat of silence. then, softly—

“you are.”

your smile faltered. just for a second. “what?”

jake met your eyes, cheeks still flushed but voice steady. “charming.”

you blinked. it was the first time he’d said something like that without tripping over his own tongue.

“…jake sim,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “are you flirting with me?”

he shrugged — shrugged — with fake nonchalance. “maybe.”

you stared at him.

he stared back.

and then — his pencil rolled off the table and he smacked his head on the edge trying to catch it.

“still me,” he groaned, face down on the table. “still a loser.”

you couldn’t help it. you laughed so hard you nearly fell out of your chair. he was cute and adorably clumsy. exactly. your type. 

───

the next session, you came in with your usual confidence. playful comments. flirty glances.

but jake didn’t fold this time. (immediately).

in fact, when you were about to lean over to grab his calculator, he reached past you and did it first. smooth. like he was testing you.

“looking for this?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “who are you and what have you done with jake?”

he smiled — cocky, but still nervous. “maybe i’m learning.”

you tilted your head. “is this some physics thing? like, building resistance?”

“more like acceleration,” he said softly. “you keep pushing. i’m picking up speed.”

you stared at him.

he immediately panicked. “i mean — not in a creepy way — i just meant—”

you cut him off with a smirk. “careful, jake. you flirt like you solve equations — painfully accurate.”

he blushed again, but this time, he didn’t back away. instead, he looked at you for a long moment, then leaned in a little, just enough to make your breath catch.

“you said once that you noticed me before,” he murmured.

“yeah,” you said slowly.

he smiled, shy and genuine. “i think i’ve been noticing you for a lot longer.”

you forgot how to breathe for a second.

and then he bumped your knee under the table, awkward as ever. “anyway, we should… probably go over magnetic fields now.”

you grinned, heart racing. “god, you’re such a loser.”

“your loser,” he said quietly.

and somehow, that was the smoothest line of all.

───

the tutoring session was going fine.

that is, until maki showed up.

you were in the library lounge, halfway through a problem on thermodynamics, when a voice interrupted.

“y/n?”

you looked up. riki maus (known as maki). same year, tall, charming, objectively hot in that annoying way that made girls forgive him for talking through labs.

“hey,” you said, blinking. “didn’t know you were on this floor.”

jake went completely still next to you, pen frozen mid-equation.

maki barely glanced at him. “i was just heading out, but i had to say hi. you doing okay with physics? i tutor sometimes too, you know.”

jake’s grip on his pen tightened.

“oh?” you asked, amused. “you tutor now?”

maki shrugged. “not officially. but i could make time. for you.”

you opened your mouth, ready to tease him back, but jake’s voice cut in first.

“she already has a tutor.”

maki blinked, like he’d just noticed him. “right. sim, yeah? you’re in physics lab.”

“yeah,” jake said, still quiet, but there was an edge now. “i’ve got it covered.”

you turned to jake, brows lifting slightly. was he… tense?

maki grinned. “no offense, man, but i’ve heard tutoring y/n is more like surviving her. you sure you can handle it?”

jake stood.

you blinked. jake stood.

he was taller than you remembered. towering over maki, still in his soft hoodie and baggy jeans, but standing like something had clicked. like a switch had flipped.

“i can handle her,” he said, voice even. “better than anyone else.”

maki raised his hands. “okay. chill, bro.”

he gave you one last glance and walked off.

you looked up at jake. he was still standing, chest rising and falling like he was trying to keep it together.

“jake?”

his eyes met yours. there was something in them you hadn’t seen before. something fierce.

“do you like him?” he asked.

you frowned. “maki? god, no.”

he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath. stepped closer.

“because i don’t like seeing guys like that flirt with you.”

you tilted your head, heart starting to pick up. “jealousy doesn’t suit you, sim.”

“i know,” he said quietly. “but you do.”

and then he kissed you.

you didn’t expect it. not from him. not like this.

not with his hand cradling your cheek so gently it made your heart ache, not with the way his lips pressed to yours like he’d been waiting for this moment for weeks — months — forever.

your breath caught. he was warm. steady. his lips moved with surprising confidence, slow at first, then deeper, more certain as you kissed him back.

his other hand found your waist, pulled you in, grounded you. like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

your fingers curled in his hoodie, body leaning into his. he tilted his head just slightly and kissed you like a man who had solved the formula for gravity and decided to fall anyway.

wanting to deepen the kiss, you moved your thumb to his jaw, signaling him to open his mouth wider.

he (hopefully) got the hint and slowly but surely slotted his tongue right against yours. he wanted to memorize every part of you and figured he should start with your mouth.

it was as if your lips and tongues moved in perfect synchronization. like puzzle pieces.

when he finally pulled back, it was only enough to rest his forehead against yours.

you both stood there, catching your breath.

“…wow” you said, dazed. “what the hell, sim.”

he stared at you. blinked. once. twice. “w-was it okay? did i — do it wrong?”

silence. 

he spoke again, “that was kinda.. my first — um — my first kiss…” 

you let out a disbelieving laugh. “what do you mean that was your first kiss??? you kissed me like you’ve been rehearsing it in your dreams.”

he looked away. shy. “…maybe i have.”

you narrowed your eyes. “wait. have you?”

he winced. “that was a joke.”

it was silent for a hot minute.

“…mostly. i—i never really get close to pretty girls because i don’t— well i don’t go out. so. um. yeah…” 

you grabbed his hoodie and pulled him closer until your lips were right in front of his plush ones. “stop speaking nonsense and kiss me again, sim.” 

he didn’t hesitate. just smiled at you and slammed your lips on his. he kissed you like he was finally where he belonged.

and maybe he was.

because nerdy physics tutors?

yeah. they might know the laws of motion — but now he knew what it felt like to crash into you.

please reblog if you enjoyed this cute lil fic ! it helps a lot <3

[ @jaeyuniversal ] prod. 250508

anxiety - n.rk

pairing: stranger!nishimura riki x fem!reader

synopsis: you meet him on a quiet night — a stranger with sharp eyes and a colder edge, nothing like anyone in your sleepy suburb. he won’t talk, barely looks at you, but something about him lingers. maybe you’re just curious. or maybe you’ve seen him before.

featuring: ni-ki & jake of enhypen

genre: childhood friends to lovers, a sprinkle of angst, smut, skinship, kissing, etc.

warnings: smut (18+), difficult relationships with parents, love at first sight lowk, vulnerability, themes of implied watching (not rlly stalking) but it isn't graphic, riki smokes cigs, uhhh i think that's it?? lowercase intended heh

playlist: anxiety by doechii, clarity by zedd & sacrifice by enhypen

(smut warnings under cut)

wc: 9.120k

a/n: this is way longer than i expected but it came to me in a dream... enjoy! also i'm gonna start a perm taglist! comment on any of my fics or send an ask to be added! <3

smut content: riki's PACKING, they cum in their pants lol, dry humping, deepthroating kinda, backshots LMAO, missionary, dom!riki x sub!reader, degradation & praise kinks, creampie, like SO MUCH cum... n e ways! fluffy aftercare, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap), tit fucking, oral (m. receiving), choking, everything is consensual, riki and reader are both so down bad for each other... lmk if i missed anything :3

(not proofread)

-ˏˋ⋆ 7 months ago ⋆ˊˎ-

it was raining the day you first felt it — that creeping sensation at the back of your neck, like invisible fingers brushing against your skin.

not a storm, not anything dramatic. just that kind of soft, cold drizzle that seeped into your clothes and made the world feel like it was holding its breath. gray sky melted into gray pavement, the horizon smeared like a half-finished painting. you were standing under the chipped awning of the old bakery on the corner, the scent of yeast and sugar mixing with the rain, waiting for your usual thursday pastry that was always slightly overbaked but comfortingly warm.

you remember scrolling through your phone, aimlessly, as your friend, jake, rambled beside you about something he saw on tv. you weren't listening. you were too aware of the feeling — that hum beneath your skin. subtle but unshakable.

“there’s someone watching me,” you’d said earlier that morning, trying to brush it off with a laugh as you stirred milk into your coffee. “it’s my anxiety.” jake didn’t look up from his phone. “or maybe you’re watching yourself spiral.”

you’d rolled your eyes. maybe he was right. midterms were looming, you hadn’t slept in days, and your brain felt like it was being slowly pulled apart by rubber bands. but still. the feeling didn’t go away.

it got worse.

you’d been fidgeting, switching the weight on your feet, chewing the inside of your cheek. and then, like something calling your name without a sound, your eyes had drifted across the street.

that’s when you saw him.

a boy. or maybe a man — it was hard to tell, the rain blurred everything. tall, impossibly still, wearing a black hoodie that clung to his shoulders. he wasn’t under any kind of shelter. he stood alone, soaked to the bone, his face half-hidden by the hood, his gaze fixed. not on the road. not on the buildings. but on you.

you stared. you didn’t recognize him. not really. and yet something deep in your chest stirred like a memory. like a name you almost remembered. like a dream you’d had once and forgotten by morning.

you glanced down for a second — a message lighting up your screen.

when you looked up, he was gone.

no footsteps. no splash. just… gone.

you never told jake. what would you say? you didn’t even know what you’d seen. maybe nothing at all.

maybe your anxiety really was watching you. maybe it had grown arms and legs and a face hidden under a rain-soaked hood. maybe it had always been there, just waiting for the right day to show itself.

either way, it started then.

and it never really stopped.

-ˏˋ⋆ present day ⋆ˊˎ-

the hallway is too quiet for a friday night.

you shuffle down the corridor with a tied-up trash bag swinging limply at your side, socks stuffed in your duck slippers, slapping against the cool tile floor. the overhead light flickers once, buzzing faintly. classic.

you reach the stairwell, already bracing yourself for the sharp chill of the outside air, when you stop short.

he’s there.

leaning against the railing of the third-floor landing, hoodie pulled up over his head, cigarette dangling between his fingers — even though this is strictly a no-smoking building. he doesn’t flinch when you turn the corner. just keeps staring out at the dim skyline, face barely visible under the shadow of his hood.

you slow down, blinking.

he’s not familiar — not really. you pride yourself on knowing every face in this sleepy apartment complex, whether through polite nods in the mailroom or awkward elevator silences. but him? nothing. no name. no room number. just angles and silence.

and yet… something about him rings in your head like a half-forgotten dream.

his profile is soft, almost too pretty to be real. sharp jaw, dark lashes, bangs dipping into his eyes. he looks like he doesn’t belong here — like someone plucked him out of a bigger story and dropped him into yours by mistake.

"hey," you offer, voice casual, just above a whisper. "you new here?"

he doesn’t look at you. doesn’t answer.

awkward.

you shift the trash bag in your hands, trying again. “i live on the second floor. don’t think i’ve seen you around before.”

still nothing. just a small exhale of smoke that curls into the cold night air.

rude, you think. but not in a mean way. more like… distant. careful.

you lean against the opposite railing, letting the silence stretch for a few seconds.

"you look familiar," you say, eyes narrowing. "have we met before?"

this time, his gaze flickers. not quite to you — just past you. a twitch of recognition, maybe. or annoyance.

you can't tell.

but your brain is racing. you know him. you must. maybe in passing. maybe in a memory. maybe you’ve just seen him out here before, on the edge of your vision, existing quietly in the corners of your routine. maybe your subconscious noticed him long before you did.

he stubs out the cigarette and walks past you without a word.

you don’t move. you just watch him disappear down the hall, hoodie covered by a black jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"okay then," you murmur to yourself, staring after him. and you can’t help it — the way your eyes linger on the spot he stood, heart ticking a little faster.

there’s something about him.

you just don’t know what. yet.

───

it's raining the next time you see him.

you’re standing under the overhang by the front entrance, fumbling with your umbrella, when the door swings open behind you. you glance back — and it’s him. again.

hoodie. same brown timberlands. same unreadable expression.

you swear he pauses when he sees you, just a fraction of a second. but maybe that’s in your head.

"you smoke a lot for someone living in a no-smoking building," you say without thinking, half a joke.

he doesn’t laugh. but his lips twitch, barely, like maybe he almost did.

he steps out into the rain without an umbrella.

"hey!" you call, surprised. "you're seriously just gonna walk in that?"

he doesn't stop. doesn't answer. but this time, he does glance back at you over his shoulder. eyes dark. thoughtful. like he’s trying to decide something.

“i’ve seen you before,” you say — louder, more certain now. “i just don’t remember where.”

his mouth parts, like he might say something. but then he turns and keeps walking, rain soaking into the fabric of his hoodie, blending him into the gray of the street.

and you're left standing there, umbrella unopened, heart kicking strangely against your ribs.

───

it’s quiet in the laundry room — too quiet. the kind of quiet that settles in your chest and presses down, like you’re underwater. the overhead light flickers occasionally, buzzing in protest, but no one’s bothered to fix it. you wouldn’t usually be here this late, but your sheets were stained and the smell was driving you insane. so here you are, half-past midnight, leaning against a rickety folding table, waiting.

your phone barely gets signal this far in the basement, and the wi-fi’s always spotty. it’s just you, the low groan of the washer, and your own thoughts trying to make conversation.

until the door creaks open.

you don’t jump, but your spine straightens on instinct. you don’t have to look up to know it’s him — the presence is immediate, unmistakable. that stillness in the air that follows him like a shadow. you finally glance up, and there he is. same black hoodie. same too-quiet footsteps. same face that looks like it doesn’t belong here. like it was carved into something older than this tiny suburban building.

he doesn’t say a word. just drops a bag on the floor and begins sorting laundry like it’s the most normal thing in the world. like you haven’t already seen him twice this week, always at night, always alone, always watching without watching.

“seriously?” you say, trying to keep your voice light. “do you just hang out in weird corners of this complex to freak people out?”

nothing.

he lifts a pair of dark jeans, shakes them out. you watch his fingers. they're pale. long. too clean for someone who lives in this building. you’ve lived here your whole life and never seen him before last week — and yet...

he feels familiar.

“okay,” you continue, stepping off the table now. the room feels colder suddenly. “do you live here? or are you like... a freak with laundry privileges?”

still nothing. you laugh under your breath, but it sounds too loud in the silence. your heartbeat starts to climb your throat.

then he says it. quiet. low.

“you used to wait outside the bakery every thursday. same dark purple coat. hair in a slick bun. you never looked both ways when you crossed the street.”

the words stop you cold.

“what?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

he still doesn’t look at you. he presses a button on the washer. it whirs to life.

“i remember,” he says simply.

and then he walks out.

no explanation. no glance back. just leaves you standing there, spine prickling, air thick with something you can’t name.

you don’t move for a long time. the washer keeps spinning. and somewhere in the back of your mind, a door creaks open — something old, something buried. you know that voice. you know it.

but from where?

and why now?

───

you see him again the next week.

it’s late. everything always is these days. late nights, late thoughts, late feelings that come crawling out of places you’ve spent years trying to bury.

he’s there again by the mailboxes, half-shrouded in the dim glow of the overhead light. same hoodie, same stillness. like he’s always belonged to the dark. like the world moves around him, but never through him.

you don’t say anything this time. just glance at him, let your eyes linger a little too long. the silence stretches like fog between you, thick and almost heavy.

when you get back to your apartment, you sit on the floor of your room, knees to your chest, staring at nothing. trying to remember.

because it’s not just déjà vu. it’s more insistent than that. it’s something sharper. something that presses at the edges of your mind like a dull knife.

you know him.

or—at least, you’ve seen him before. not in this life maybe, but in another version of it. in a hallway, maybe. in a photograph. in a moment you never thought would matter until it does.

you try to pull it apart, memory by memory. but your brain is tired and tangled, the way it always is when you think too hard about the past. especially your own.

your mom used to say you were dramatic. that you let small things become monsters under the bed. “don’t be so sensitive,” she’d snap, when you cried over things she didn’t understand. “you make everything so hard for yourself.”

your dad never said much at all.

they were loud in the wrong ways. silent in the ones that mattered. and you learned early how to turn your feelings into puzzles with missing pieces — complex enough to keep you distracted, but unsolvable enough to stop you from ever really facing them.

and yet, riki… there’s something about him that pulls at those missing pieces. like maybe he was one of them. like maybe he slipped into your life through a crack in the wall and waited, patiently, for you to notice.

was he from your old school? a kid from your neighborhood? someone you passed in a crowd once and never forgot, even if you didn’t realize it?

you hate not knowing. hate how it makes you feel like a child again — helpless and unsettled. desperate for answers no one’s willing to give.

maybe that’s what this really is. not fear. not obsession. just the ache of a memory that refuses to resurface.

he’s a question mark in human form. and you’ve never been good with uncertainty.

you don’t see him again for days.

which should be a relief. it should give you space to think, to forget. but it doesn’t. it just makes everything louder. the silence, the questions, the feeling in your gut that something is watching you — or waiting.

your sleep turns thin and restless. shadows stretch too long across your walls. you start leaving your bedroom light on. just in case.

one night, you wake up at 3:12 a.m., heart racing for no reason at all. it takes a second to realize what pulled you out of sleep — a sound. something light. deliberate.

a knock?

you hold your breath. wait. nothing.

you get up anyway.

there’s no one at the door. of course not. but something catches your eye as you start to turn back — something lying just at the edge of your doormat. small. folded. a piece of paper.

you hesitate, then pick it up. it’s blank on the outside. no name. no writing. nothing.

you open it slowly.

inside, in rushed, almost messy handwriting, are six words:

“do you really not remember me?”

your throat goes tight. your first instinct is to look around, scan the hallway, check the peephole twice. there’s no one.

no sound.

just that question burning in your hands.

do you really not remember me?

your fingers shake a little as you fold it back up. your brain is moving too fast and not fast enough at the same time. and that feeling — the one that’s been gnawing at you for days — it blooms in your chest like a scream that never makes it out.

because now it’s real. now you know you aren’t imagining it. the familiarity, the tension, the way your spine goes rigid every time you see him —

he knows you.

he’s known you.

and maybe you did know him once, too. maybe you still do, buried under everything you’ve forgotten on purpose.

you think about the look in his eyes that first night. the way he never said a word. the stillness of him.

you think of the hallway. the sound that woke you. the note.

you think of how you told your friend the other day, half-laughing, half-serious: “there’s someone watching me, it’s my anxiety.”

but what if it’s more than that?

what if it’s not just in your head?

what if it’s him? 

───

it hits you in the middle of folding laundry.

something about the way your fingers move. something about the light slanting in through the kitchen window. warm, but not comforting. and all at once, you’re not in your apartment anymore.

you’re in a house. someone else’s. maybe your own. there’s music playing — muffled through a closed door. a cheap stereo with tinny speakers. old j-pop, the kind that loops endlessly on cassettes. the wallpaper is peeling in one corner.

and then—

a voice. soft. younger. yours.

"why do you always hide when they come home?"

someone's sitting in the hallway. knees pulled to their chest. head down. shadows in the space between them like they’re both in different dimensions.

and then he looks up.

not the man in the stairwell. not riki, not yet. just a boy. sharp eyes, hollow cheeks, hair too long in front. there’s a cut on his lip. fading purple under his eye.

“because it’s safer,” he says.

the air warps around that line, like heat off asphalt. she wants to reach for him, wants to say something back, but the memory curls tighter around her, swallowing the end of it before she can hold on.

then it’s gone.

just like that.

you blink down at the pile of laundry in your lap, hands gone still.

your chest feels tight. throat aching, like you swallowed something heavy. the apartment feels colder than it should. that voice — his voice — still rings somewhere in your bones.

because you’ve heard it before. not recently. years ago.

and suddenly you’re thinking about your father’s anger. how he used to break things before he yelled. how sometimes he didn’t yell at all. how the silence always scared you more. how you stopped inviting friends over after age ten. how there was one boy you let in. once.

his name—

you press the heel of your palm to her forehead, hard, like you can shake it loose.

it won’t come. not yet.

but the shape of it is there, curling at the edges of a memory like smoke. and the boy with the bruised mouth and quiet eyes — he's not a stranger.

not even close.

later that night, you can't sleep.

there's a weight on your chest that won’t lift no matter how you shift under the sheets. it’s not insomnia — it’s memory. something clawing at the back of your skull, begging to be seen.

so you get up.

the air in the apartment is too still. even the hum of the fridge feels distant. you don't bother with the lights. just moving barefoot and slow, like any noise might scare the truth away.

the closet in the hallway creaks when you open it. you kneel. pushing past shoeboxes, tangled cords, the mess of forgotten things. until your hand hits the one you’re looking for.

a red box. scuffed corners. cheap velvet peeled at the edges. inside: scraps of a childhood. yours.

old keychains, broken friendship bracelets, polaroids faded to brown. concert tickets. a snow globe from sapporo. and then—

a photograph.

creased down the center. color bleeding with age. a summer day, maybe. you’re younger. seven or eight. awkward teeth, sunburnt nose, some awful haircut her mother swore looked cute. and beside you —

a boy.

not smiling. just… there. close, but not touching. eyes dark and watchful even then.

and it’s him.

riki.

only it wasn’t his name back then, was it? he went by ni-ki.

your breath catches. you sit back on your heels, heart thudding in your ears.

how could you forget? they lived on the same street. just four houses down. his mom used to walk him to school until she didn’t anymore. and then he stopped coming altogether.

after that, he vanished. until now.

until the stairwell. until the way he didn’t speak but looked at her like he knew everything.

you swallow the sick twist in your stomach. the sudden, sharp cold shivering down your spine.

why was he back?

and why you?

you leave the photo on the kitchen island.

maybe it’s careless, maybe even stupid, but you tell yourself it’ll make more sense in the morning. you’ll wake up, look at it with clearer eyes, and it won’t feel like your chest is caving in. besides, you live alone. and it’s just a photo.

just a photo.

you drag yourself to the couch, the blanket scratchy against your legs, exhaustion curling into your limbs like smoke. you fall asleep fast — but it’s the wrong kind of sleep. thick, dreamless, heavy with something you can’t name. a noise pulls at you. a door. or a voice. or your own heart cracking open.

you wake up just as the first light creeps through the windows. your mouth is dry. your tongue tastes like copper.

something is off.

you walk into the kitchen, still half in a fog—and stop.

the photo is gone.

you freeze, staring at the empty spot where it had been, your thoughts moving too fast and too slow all at once. the red box is still there. untouched. the lid sitting open like a mouth waiting to swallow more. you check the floor. under the fridge. between papers. nothing.

no one could’ve taken it.

the door was locked. the windows haven’t budged. you were here. you were alone.

a chill slides down your spine, sharp and crawling. you think of him again. the way he looked at you in the stairwell. not confused. not curious.

just watching.

like he already knew what you would find.

your breath catches. you don’t even realize you’ve backed up until your shoulder hits the wall.

you don’t understand what’s happening, but something is— and it’s closing in.

the silence hums in your ears. the wind slips against the glass like breath. and then you see it.

something on the kitchen table.

not the photo. but something folded.

small. white. placed exactly where the photo had been.

your name is written on the front.

in handwriting you almost recognize.

you stare at the folded paper like it might burn through the table. your name, in soft, slanted letters—almost familiar, like a half-remembered dream. the kind you wake up from with your chest tight and eyes wet, but can’t explain to anyone without sounding insane.

your fingers hesitate.

you don’t want to touch it. you want to burn it. you want to leave the apartment and never come back.

but your hand moves anyway, like it isn’t yours. like you’re being pulled by something older than memory.

the paper is heavier than it looks. the kind of paper someone saves. the kind that lives in boxes under beds, waiting to be found.

you unfold it slowly. deliberately.

the first line makes your stomach drop:

“you used to laugh with your whole face.”

your throat tightens. your vision blurs at the edges. you keep reading.

“i remember when you were afraid of thunderstorms. you’d hide under the table with that stuffed bear. the one with the missing eye.”

you sink into the nearest chair. it creaks beneath you. your heartbeat pounds in your ears like thunder.

how does he know that?

no one remembers that.

not even your mother—too busy fighting shadows of men who never stayed long enough to learn your name.

you blink hard, trying to push away the sting in your eyes. your hand shakes as you reach the last line:

“it’s okay if you don’t remember me. i remember you.”

the note isn’t signed.

but you already know who it’s from.

and you’re not sure if that makes it better… or so much worse.

you find yourself standing at the corner of the street, unsure of where to go or how to breathe. the note is heavy in your hand, the words on it are still too real. still too impossible to wrap your mind around.

but you can’t ignore it anymore. you’ve been running from something, running from the truth, but it’s all catching up with you. and it starts with one thing—one person—who might just hold the answers.

you text jake. i need to talk to you.

he replies almost immediately: come over. i’ll make coffee.

you don’t hesitate. your body moves before your brain can catch up.

jake’s apartment smells like coffee, like books, and like something homey you can’t quite place. you’ve always liked it here—quiet, safe, with jake’s easy smile and the way he always listens like he doesn’t have a million things on his plate.

but today, when he opens the door, his smile falters. his eyes linger on the note in your hand before he invites you in.

“what’s going on?” he asks, his voice soft. “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“worse,” you murmur, sitting down at the kitchen table. “riki. the guy from my apartment building. the one i’ve been thinking about.”

jake’s face changes. his usual calm demeanor cracks for a split second, but it’s enough. enough to make you sit up straighter, enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“what do you mean, the guy you’ve been thinking about?” he asks carefully. “y/n, you’ve been telling me you’ve never met him before. he’s just some weird guy who shows up at random times. are you sure you’re okay?”

you hesitate. the note is still in your hand. you want to show it to him, but something holds you back. you can’t explain this to him without sounding insane.

“he knows things, jake. about me. about my childhood. stuff no one would know.” you pause, swallowing hard. “it’s like he’s been... watching me.”

the silence in the room thickens. jake stands still, his hands gripping the edge of the table. you can feel his mind working through it, piecing things together. finally, he exhales sharply.

“you know who he is, don’t you?” jake’s voice cracks just a little, and you hate that you can hear it.

“he’s riki,” you whisper. “i know it.”

jake looks like he’s just seen a ghost too. but it’s worse than that. it’s betrayal, old wounds you never knew were still there.

“how do you know him?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

jake runs a hand through his hair, his face tight with something you can’t read. "riki... he was my best friend back home. we were inseparable when we were kids, after he randomly showed up one day. before everything in his home town happened. before he disappeared from there."

you lean forward, your heart racing. "why did he disappear?"

jake looks away, his eyes shadowed with memories. "riki got tangled up in some bad stuff, y/n. things that don’t go away, things that ruin people. he got in with the wrong crowd—gangs, debts, all kinds of shit. he disappeared from there too and... no one ever really knew what happened. but the rumors started. they said he ran. he left everything behind."

your throat tightens. “but... he didn’t.”

jake’s gaze is heavy, dark. “no. he didn’t. he’s been trying to stay hidden ever since. but some ghosts don’t stay buried, y/n.”

your chest tightens. you’ve been living in the shadow of something you can’t even remember fully. and now it’s back.

───

later that night, you find yourself standing in front of riki’s door, your heart hammering in your chest. you knock once, twice, and wait.

the door opens slowly, and riki stands there, eyes wide, almost guilty. he looks different in the light, darker somehow, worn and tired. but the same fire is still there. it’s still riki.

“you know, don’t you?” he says, his voice tight, like he’s holding something back.

you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “you disappeared. you ran. kept running. and i don’t understand why.”

riki’s eyes flicker with something—pain, maybe. “it’s not that simple. there’s things you don’t know, things i can’t tell you.”

you step closer, ignoring the hesitation in your chest. “i need to know, riki. everything. i need you to tell me.”

his jaw clenches. but then he opens the door wider, his shoulders slumping as he gestures for you to come inside.

you step into his dimly lit apartment, your heart racing. the room feels charged with something unspoken, like the air is holding its breath.

“i didn’t want you to get involved in all of this,” riki says, his voice raw. “but now that you know, i can’t just leave you hanging.”

you take a step forward, your hand trembling as you reach for him, the tension between you unbearable. “you’re not alone in this anymore, riki. i’m here.”

he looks at you, eyes haunted, like he’s trying to decide if he can trust you. then, without warning, his lips crash against yours.

you freeze for a second, the intensity of it taking you by surprise. but then your body reacts, pulling him closer, kissing him back with everything you’ve been holding in. it’s messy, desperate, like neither of you knows what’s happening but can’t stop it.

his hands are everywhere—on your waist, your back, your neck—like he’s trying to memorize you, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

your heart is racing, your body pressed against his, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s on fire.

riki pulls back, his breathing shallow, his forehead resting against yours. the tension between you two is still there, but it's different now — softer, like a thread connecting you in a way neither of you can fully explain.

"y/n," he says, his voice low but intense, trembling slightly. "there are things i never wanted to tell you, things i couldn't bear to say. i thought it would be easier to push you away, to make you hate me before you found out... but i can't do it anymore. i can't keep lying to myself."

you step back a little, your chest tightening as you watch him. his eyes are full of so many emotions—regret, pain, love—but it’s the last one that makes your heart ache with something you didn’t expect.

"i’ve been in this dark place for so long, y/n. i never thought i could get out of it. i pushed everyone away, especially you, because i knew if i let you in, you’d see the mess i am... but you’re the only one who’s ever mattered. i’ve always known it, even when i was too afraid to admit it. i love you."

his words hang in the air, raw and vulnerable. and you feel something inside of you break wide open—something you’ve been trying so hard to protect, trying to hide.

“i’ve always loved you,” riki continues, his voice softer now, almost like he’s confessing a secret that’s been buried for too long. “even when i tried to run from it, even when i tried to push you away... you were always the one. always.”

you can barely find your voice, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his words. "riki, i—"

but he shakes his head, cutting you off gently. "no, listen. i know i’ve hurt you. i know i’ve been distant, but everything i did... i did it because i was scared. scared of losing you. scared of what you’d think of me if you knew everything. but i can’t hide anymore. not from you. i’ve never stopped loving you. not even for a second.”

tears sting the back of your eyes, but you blink them away, letting his confession settle inside you. your heart feels too full, too full of emotions you don’t know how to contain. you take a deep breath, your voice trembling when you finally speak.

“i’m not going anywhere, riki,” you whisper, the words catching in your throat. “i never was. i don’t care about the past... i don’t care about what happened before. i care about you. i’ve always cared about you.”

for a moment, neither of you moves. the world feels so quiet, like everything has stopped, and it’s just the two of you in this space—this moment where everything you’ve both been hiding finally comes to light.

riki steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face, his thumbs brushing over your skin. his eyes are soft now, almost like he’s memorizing every detail of you, like he never wants to forget this moment.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks, his voice so soft, so unsure. it’s like he’s asking for permission, like he’s afraid of making the wrong move.

you nod, your breath catching in your throat. “please,” you whisper.

and then, his lips are on yours, gentle but urgent, like everything he’s held inside of him is pouring into this kiss. his hands slide to your back, pulling you closer, and you melt into him. you kiss him back with everything you’ve been holding onto, everything you’ve been feeling but never knew how to say.

when you pull back, both of you breathless, riki presses his forehead to yours, his hands resting gently on your hips. his eyes are full of that same tenderness, that same love that’s been there all along.

“i love you, y/n,” he whispers again, this time with more certainty, more peace. “and i always will. no matter what.”

and in that moment, you know, without a doubt, that everything—every question, every fear, every hesitation—has been worth it. because now, in this space, with him, everything feels right.

“i love you too, riki,” you say softly, the words more sure now. “i always will.”

and the kiss that follows is more than just passion—it’s a promise. 

he breaks the kiss and leads you to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed. he pulls you onto his lap and crashes his lips against yours once again. 

but this kiss, it’s different than the others. 

it’s hot. fiery. desperate. 

his tongue bullies its way into your mouth, fighting for dominance which you happily give him. as you continue making out, he becomes increasingly handsy. they fly from your jaw, to your shoulder blades, sliding down to rest on your ass. he grips your clothed flesh with desire.

and that's when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness settled between his legs. pressed against your burning hot core. 

you gasped into his lips and he swallowed it up eagerly. 

he rolled your hips down onto his crotch, seeking friction to ease his hard on. groaning into the kiss, he broke it, tilting his head back.

you carefully observed how his adam’s apple bobbed each time he swallowed, your self control fading into nothing. reaching out to grab his neck, you lightly apply pressure as you leave sloppy, wet kisses all over his jaw. your eyes drop to his collarbones, noticing his hoodie getting in the way.

you shift in his lap, knees sinking further into his bed as your hands find his shoulders for balance. riki looks up at you, eyes half-lidded, lips parted slightly like he’s caught between breath and want. his hoodie is bunched up from where your fingers had tugged at the hem earlier, and when you reach for it again, he doesn’t stop you.

you pull it over his head slowly, your fingers grazing warm skin as the fabric slides up and off. beneath it, he’s wearing a black tank top that clings to him in all the right places—soft cotton stretched over lean muscle, tracing the shape of his chest and the dip of his waist.

his collarbones catch the low light of the room, sharp and defined, leading down to the elegant curve of his neck. you can see the slight rise and fall of it as he swallows, your gaze drifting lower to the sculpted line of his biceps, muscles flexing subtly under your weight, like he’s holding back.

he looks devastating like this—relaxed and bare in a way that feels forbidden, like you’re seeing something no one else is allowed to.

"you’re staring," he says quietly, a flicker of amusement in his voice, but there's a softness to it too, like he doesn’t mind being seen this way. like he wants you to look.

you smile, brushing your fingers across his shoulder, down his arm, feeling the strength beneath the surface. "can you blame me?"

he laughs under his breath, hands settling at your hips, warm and steady. "not really."

you lean in closer, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, right where it meets his collarbone. he shivers under your touch, and you feel it in your core—how easy it is to fall into him, how right it feels to be here like this.

you push him further on his bed, his back hitting the soft comforter, hands never leaving your hips. 

he captures your lips once again in a kiss that's delicate, like he’s trying to process everything but he can’t. are you really here with him right now? his childhood best friend who he forced himself to cut contact with—but then again, did he ever really cut contact with you? he had to make sure you were okay one way or another, so he watched from the shadows. even if it meant sacrificing his greatest love. you. 

as if you could sense the gears overheating in his brain, you pull away from him and stare into his familiar brown eyes. he pouts and you see a glimpse of ni-ki. the scared, eight year old who you’d give up anything to protect. 

he cradles your face like you’re made of glass and whispers, “are you sure you want this, angel? because once i start… i don’t think i’ll be able to stop.” 

you nod your head, but that doesn’t seem to be enough for him, “words, baby. i need words, hmm?” you bite back a flustered smile, “yeah ni-ki, i want this. you.” 

he grins hearing his childhood name fall out of your soft, sweet lips and picks you up off his lap so he can rest with his back against the headboard. 

settling back on his thighs, and becoming increasingly impatient, you roll your hips against his, surprising him.

he lets out a breathy moan, urging you to continue. you want to hear each of his pretty sounds.

pressing your clothed clit into the tip of his dick, he closes his eyes, biting his lip. you feel him pulsing beneath you, the thin layer of his sweats not doing much to hide his arousal. 

neither of you have ever been this turned on just by kissing, heavy petting, and grinding. but neither of you dare to stop. it feels too good, like a craving you’ve subconsciously had. 

riki pauses the movement of your hips, being the first one to break this careful, but familiar, tension between you two. “baby, give me a sec. i’m c-close,” he mutters.

wanting to see what he looks like when he finishes, you grin, dragging your hips down harder and slower, in a teasing manner. he groans, but with the same teasing energy, bucks his hips up into yours, allowing you to feel just how big he is—and he knows it, too. judging by your reaction, he can tell it’s been a while since you’ve both been intimate with someone else. 

feeling his release closer than he’d say out loud, he takes control of your movements, speeding them up. you can feel how badly he needs this. how desperate he needs you.

the friction of his covered cock rubbing repeatedly on your sensitive clit, feels better than anything you’ve ever tried with others or yourself. you’re both panting, forehead to forehead, when everything comes crashing down. riki releases into his gray sweats, making a mess. he swears he’s never cum that hard. and your panties get increasingly sticky and uncomfortable.

basking in the aftermath of your shared orgasm, riki gently holds you by the waist, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. lots of “you did great,” “that felt so good, baby,” and a lot of whining. “i need you so bad,” “please, angel, i’ll make you feel so so good.” 

who are you to deny your first and only love?

you slowly stand on wobbly legs, stripping, giving riki a show. 

he gawks as you remove each item of clothing, starting with your shirt. he’s surprised you aren’t wearing a bra but when your perky tits come into his eyesight, he’s right in front of you. grabbing—licking—whatever’s closest to his mouth and hands. 

feeling a bit exposed, while he’s still fully clothed, you whimper into his mouth, silently asking him to take his clothes off as well.

speeding up the process, he rips his tank top off and finally. finally. you get a glimpse of what he always hides under his baggy hoodies. sculpted by the greek gods, you nearly drool at his defined torso. reaching out to drag a hand down his abs, riki shivers at your gentle, yet burning, touch. 

you back him up so he sits on his bed and slowly sink to your knees. he leans back on his palms, quiet, but watching you like a hawk. you bring a hand up to cup his bulge, not caring about the sticky stain he’s left. 

he groans, low, hot, and it goes straight to your wetness, practically leaking on his floor. 

with your hands gripping his waistband, you look up into his dark eyes, clouded with lust, and he nods lifting his hips. yanking his sweats down, you’re met with his hard cock, slapping his abs. “no boxers, huh?” you smugly ask, as if he anticipated this. “nah, not when i’m relaxing, sweetheart.” sweetheart. the name he called you the last day you saw him as kids. 

staring at his flushed cock, you lick your lips, ready to devour the man sitting in front of you.

you start by gripping his base, your fingers not fully wrapping around him. how the fuck are you supposed to fit him inside your mouth? a problem you’ve never faced, but for riki? you’d be stupid not to choke on it. 

giving his tip sweet little kitten licks, you dig your tongue into his slit, as if you were trying to drink up all his precum. “fuck,” he grunts out, hoping you didn’t discover how sensitive he was at his tip. 

he thinks you didn’t, but he should really know better. 

you focus all your attention on his swollen head, sucking softly and jerking off the rest of his lengthy dick. his back falls flat, resting on his bed, while he lets out a symphony of moans. 

abruptly, you pull off him and when he leans up on his elbows to see why, he’s met with the sight of spit falling from your lips, landing right on his tip. then, his vision goes white.

you lean down, shoving him in your mouth, lips stretched around his girth. 

you take him halfway, and the stretch alone is painful already. knowing this might be an issue, riki speaks up, “fuck, you don’t have to take all of me, this already feels so—” but you cut him off, when you sink your mouth further, his tip hitting your throat. 

you swallow around him and he whimpers. he’s never felt anything like this before.

when he’s tried to hook up with girls in the past, they normally gave up after a minute of trying to unhinge their jaw to please him. 

but with you? he should’ve known you’d be the one to make him proud. 

noticing how surprised he is, you start bobbing your head up and down, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth. 

it’s messy, wet, and loud. but neither of you care. not when riki is whimpering beneath you so prettily. 

his tip repeatedly slams into the back of your throat, making you gag but it just turns him on more. his thighs start to tense and he knows he’s close to his second orgasm. 

feeling him twitch in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and ignore the tears streaming down your face. only focused on his pleasure. you know exactly what will push him over the edge, so you bring your mouth up his cock, lips wrapped carefully around his tip. 

swirling your tongue around it, occasionally focusing on his slit, you bring one hand up to his balls and the other to wrap around his base, applying pressure to the vein running along his shaft. 

one second later, your mouth gets flooded with his sticky, hot cum. rope after rope shooting from his enlarged tip. his dick is pulsing in your mouth and his cum never ends. it’s spilling out of your mouth onto the floor, but you try and swallow everything you can, not wanting to waste even a drop. 

his chest is rapidly rising and falling when you pull off of him with a pop. you wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your shirt and smile sweetly at him, acting like you didn’t just suck him so good his soul left his body.

“damn, baby, didn’t know you wanted me that bad.” he says through a smirk. “calm down nishimura, i could’ve filled up a gallon of water with how much you came,” you bite back. he just looks at your tear stained cheeks and a sense of pride swells in his chest. 

while he’s lost in his thoughts, you stand up, knees bruised from his hardwood floor. 

glancing between his legs, you notice he’s still hard. how much cum does he have for you? you wonder, taking off your jeans and panties in one go. 

now that you’re both fully naked, riki gets up off his bed and approaches you, holding one of your hands. he spins you around, taking in your fully nude body for the first time. 

noticing his staring, you open your mouth, “are you just gonna stare or fuck me?”

smoothly, he leads you to lie down on his bed, “patience, princess, be good for me while i take care of you, yeah?” oh you’re gone already.

he leans down to kiss you and your hands find his nape, gently grabbing the hair trailing down his neck. 

you mistook riki for an ass guy, when his fascination with your tits makes you break the kiss. he’s sucking gently on your right nipple, his free hand finding your left boob. 

moaning gently, you tip your head back into his pillow that smells like comfort, and something musky, but it’s something extremely riki. you instinctively arch into his touch, bare core desperately grinding into the air of his bedroom, desperate for friction. 

he senses your neediness, bringing his stiff cock down to rub between your soaked folds. his tip catches your clit, eliciting soft whimpers from your parted lips. using your slick as lube, he lines himself up, stopping before he goes further. “condom?” he sweetly asks. you whisper, under your breath, “n-no, i’m on birth—,” however, you don’t get to answer him when you feel his tip slide into your awaiting hole. 

both moaning in relief, he stays with just his tip in, preparing you for the stretch that’s about to come. you relax a bit, a signal for him to push a bit further, cutting off his action with a loud moan. 

it’s better than any porn he could dream of, and he’s only about two inches in. the sheer girth of him alone makes it feel like he’s splitting you open in the best way possible. 

you look down, thinking he’s halfway in, when in reality, he’s about a fourth of the way inside you. meeting his eyes, he senses your nerves, bringing a hand down to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves.

it helps distract you from the pain, allowing him to slide half way in. he groans at the sensation of your warm, wet walls, engulfing his aching cock. “baby, you gotta relax… you’re s’tight,” he drunkenly mumbles. you can only whimper in response, exhaling as you try to calm down.

once your breathing has returned to a normal state, riki slowly pushes in more, but it all comes to a halt when you wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him all the way in. 

he moans, caught off guard, guessing your patience snapped like a thin wire. 

as his thick length rests inside you, you can’t help but let out a string of moans, incoherently babbling about how big he feels, and how deep he’s reaching. 

“f-fuck. baby, please, can—can i move?” he forces out. you hum in agreement. 

he slowly pulls out until only his tip is sheathed inside your warm pussy, then pushes back in all the way. your eyes roll into the back of your head, “fuck. s—s’big, riks.” his pace steadily increases until he notices how your boobs bounce with each thrust he gives you. 

he brings his head down, lips wrapping around one of the perky budd, giving you even more pleasure than you knew what to do with. 

loud moans grace his ears, the only other sound being skin slapping. 

his attention is dragged back to your face when one of your hands reaches for his and brings it up to your neck. his pace falters for a bit until his face contorts, realization dawning over his lust filled features. “oh? does my baby wanna be choked? dirty slut.” you nod in response. 

feeling the pressure of his cold ring clad fingers wrapping around your burning flesh, you let out a sigh of relief, the tension in your tummy building at a rapid pace. 

riki suddenly pulls out of you, flipping you on all fours, placing a pillow under your stomach. he drags your hips up, kneading the plumpness of your ass. he slams back into you, reaching even deeper in your guts, as he hovers over your back. 

“you like feelin’ me this deep, hm?” he takes your hand and places it over the bump you feel with every thrust. your noises are muffled by his bed, which ticks him off—he wants to hear every sound that slips through your mouth. noticing that you liked things a bit rough, he pulls your hair, bringing you flush against the hardness of his chest. 

he stills inside you, letting you feel every inch, twitch, and pulse. he’s holding off his orgasm for as long as he can, but he’s not sure how long he can last when you keep clenching around him. 

he knows it’s unintentional, but it feels too good, he just needs a second. 

you can feel him breathing down your neck when you begin to move. he tries stopping you, but to no avail, you start bouncing on his stiffened cock. 

“f-fuck. gonna—cum,” he moans when he attempts to pull out. you push him back down, needing to feel him fill you up. “no. inside,” is all you can muster when he makes a sound of confusion. 

slowly gaining confidence, you turn around, and flip him over so you’re on top of him. 

flustered by the change in positions, riki gasps when you start to move. his hand finds your clit, rubbing in tight circles. 

the band in your stomach starts building, fueling both of your desperation. 

your orgasm comes crashing down in waves, pushing riki to buck his hips up, fucking you through it. “that’s it, baby, let it out. c’mon, be a good girl f’me and make a mess,” he mutters out, wanting to prolong your pleasure for as long as he can. 

as you cum, your walls uncontrollably clench around his dick, making it harder for him to slide in and out. he starts to chase his own high, gently placing your head back on his pillow and picking up your legs to rest on his shoulders. 

he pistons in and out of you, mind hazy, consumed with the need to cum inside of you. 

groaning, he stills in your abused cunt, flooding you with the gift of his cum. each pulse, you clench around his hard cock, milking him dry. 

he’s on cloud nine, feeling the way you’re taking everything he could possibly offer you.

just as he thinks he’s nearing the end of his high, you whisper in a sultry voice, “you’re still hard, riks,” which makes his skin flush a deep red. his balls tighten and somehow a couple more ropes of cum shoot into your womb. he doesn’t know what you do to him, “take it out on me, baby, i can’t imagine how pent up you must be…” and that does it for him. 

wanting to try something new, he straddles your torso, pushing your plush tits together. he aligns his sensitive cock between the flesh and slowly slides through. you stick your tongue out, trying to lick his tip each time it peeks between your boobs. 

his cock is nearly too thick for your tits to wrap around him, but he doesn’t care. the sight is more than enough for him to finish. 

he’s already close. 

the sensitivity gets to him when you begin to hold your tits together, giving him an unobstructed view of you. each time your tongue laps at his slit, he feels himself growing closer to the high he so badly craves. 

what really does it for him, is when you spit between your breasts, further lubing his cock. with a low, drawn-out moan, he paints your tits and face with his cum. the sight is too much, his balls go into overdrive, pulsing out more and more ropes of his white, messy load. 

your mouth hangs open, wanting to taste more of the salty substance. he thinks you’re perfect. 

he collapses on top of you, feeling spent and tired. it’s only when you whine about the stickiness between your legs, on your boobs, and on your face that he gets out of bed, rushing to his bathroom. 

he makes his way back over to you with a warm washcloth, and the softest touch you’ve ever felt. he gently cleans the mess he made, only now realizing how much cum he gave you. 

and you took all of it. his good girl.

once he’s done wiping away his mess, he picks you up bridal style, heading back to his bathroom. to your surprise, he drew you a bath, with scented candles—lavender. he remembered your favorite. 

he helps you into the tub, climbing in behind you. he shampoos your hair, conditions it, and even washes your body with such care, it brings tears to your eyes. 

after many hushed whispers, he drains the bathtub, helping you dry off and get into your (his) clothes. 

you both get back into his bed, snuggled against one another, riki’s embrace wrapped around you warmer than any blanket could provide. 

“riki?” you whisper, afraid to shatter the delicate silence. he hums in response. “please don’t leave me again,” you say trembling, a silent tear slipping down your cheek. 

he turns you to face him, “hey, hey, hey, baby, i’m right here. and i know what i did was shitty, you deserved an explanation. but. i couldn’t let you get caught up in what i was doing. it was risky, i couldn’t be what you deserve,” he croaks out, tears wetting his lashes. now it was your turn to comfort him, “oh my riki,” you cooed, cradling his face. 

“you did what you had to do, but what’s important is that you’re here now. with me. okay?” you plant the softest kiss on his plump lips. “okay,” he says with a small smile. 

you don’t let go. neither does he. his hands stay on your waist, tentative but needing, like he’s still trying to memorize the feel of you. your fingers linger against his jaw, your thumb brushing the damp skin beneath his eye. there’s silence between you, but it’s no longer heavy—just full. thick with everything that couldn’t be said before.

his lips brush against yours again—slower this time, deeper. like a question. and an answer. you lean in, the way you sigh into him. it’s not desperate, not rushed. it’s reverent.

when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath is shaky. “i missed you,” he whispers, voice barely audible. “missed you so much i forgot how to breathe without it hurting.”

you cup his face in both hands now, heart aching in the best way. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

and then you kiss him again—like a vow sealed in warmth and want. like a beginning.

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