nikifyme

[nikifyme]

HYBE HOUSE: IDOL EDITION

Disclaimer!!: this is still idol!reader x idol!niki but I didn’t focus on them that much

🎬 Episode 1: “The idols have entered the building”

The sun’s barely up when the first van pulls up to the massive villa in the countryside.

Inside, cameras are already rolling as idols start flooding in, dragging suitcases and shouting over each other about rooms, snacks, and who’s already being annoying.

⸻

First to arrive: TXT. Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Huening Kai step in, immediately spreading out.

“This house is bigger than my will to live,” Taehyun mutters, eyes wide.

“I’m claiming the master bathroom,” Yeonjun declares.

Beomgyu already starts poking around cabinets. “Where the snacks at?”

⸻

Not far behind: LE SSERAFIM and NewJeans enter at the same time. The hallway is instantly filled with voices.

Chaewon: “Let’s not share rooms with anyone who snores.”

Hanni: “So… not Minji then?”

Minji, faking offense: “Excuse me?”

Yunjin flops dramatically onto a couch: “I’m living for this chaos already.”

You laugh as you pull your suitcase through, giving Hyein a high-five on the way in.

⸻

SEVENTEEN arrives in style—Seungcheol and Joshua leading the charge like older brothers on a mission.

“If we don’t get a proper closet space, I’m turning this place upside down,” Jun says.

Vernon just mutters, “We’ve been here five minutes.”

The younger groups—BOYNEXTDOOR and TWS—follow right behind, already hyped up from the bus ride.

Woonhak’s yelling, “Last one in the pool’s a coward!”

Kyungmin trips over his suitcase.

Jaehyun and Riwoo are fighting over who gets the top bunk.

⸻

Then there’s ENHYPEN: Jungwon, Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Niki. They step in, looking equal parts amazed and slightly overwhelmed.

Sunoo: “We’re definitely being watched right now.”

Jungwon: “Smile for the hidden cameras.”

Niki: “Where’s the food? And where’s YN?”

Heeseung: “You’re obsessed. Get help.”

Niki: “You’re jealous. Stay mad.”

⸻

Last but definitely not least, KATSEYE storms in—laughing, yelling, carrying ten bags each.

Sophia: “This place is nicer than my dreams.”

Megan: “If I don’t get a room with a window, I’m sleeping in the living room.”

Manon: “No one told me there’d be this many people.”

Daniela: “I’m mentally assigning everyone a role in a drama already.”

⸻

The Room Chaos Begins.

People are sprinting, dragging duffels, calling dibs on beds, fighting over who sleeps with who.

Lara and Hanni immediately claim the sunroom.

Chaewon tries to room with Yunjin but gets roped into a NewJeans dorm.

Joshua gets dragged into a boy group combo room by Sunghoon and Jake.

Beomgyu and Woonhak argue about night lights.

You and Yoonchae sneak a two-person room quietly and high-five when no one notices.

⸻

Dinner Time.

Everyone’s sitting around the massive kitchen island, devouring delivery food.

“Let’s do icebreakers,” Megan suggests with a mouth full of noodles.

“What are we, trainees again?” Jay laughs.

“Say your name and your most toxic trait,” Yunjin says instantly.

Everyone groans.

They go around one by one:

• Hyein: “I ghost people mid-conversation.”

• Sunoo: “I fall in love too fast.”

• Beomgyu: “I emotionally attach to inanimate objects.”

• Daniela: “I start fights just to see what happens.”

• Joshua: “I’m too perfect. Sorry.”

• You: “I keep secrets.”

• Niki: doesn’t even hesitate “I eat other people’s food.”

“YOU WHAT?” you shout, dramatic as ever.

Everyone turns. You and Niki lock eyes.

He raises an eyebrow.

You: “Touch my leftovers and I’ll end you.”

Niki: “You love me too much to be serious.”

The table erupts.

⸻

Later That Night…

People are all over the house. Some are unpacking, some are filming TikToks, some are exploring.

• Taehyun and Jungwon are doing push-ups in the hallway for no reason.

• Kazuha is meditating on the balcony.

• Sophia is filming a chaotic vlog with Megan and Lara in the bathroom.

• Seungcheol is already trying to organize a morning workout group.

• Heeseung is stealing pillows from other rooms.

• Yeonjun is sneaking around with a bucket of snacks.

• Minji and Jay are bickering about bedtime playlists.

• Yoonchae’s fast asleep in a beanbag.

In the kitchen, a small group is snacking before bed: you, Niki, Manon, and Jake.

Manon sips her tea. “So… what happens if someone starts dating in the house?”

Niki immediately chokes on his water.

You turn to open the fridge.

Jake just grins. “Popcorn-worthy, that’s what.”

⸻

Confessional – Manon:

“I think I know who’s got a secret. And I’m not saying names. Yet.”

______

I love this so much u don’t get itttt

[nikifyme]

I need you to do a niki x black reader plsssssss one where she's 18 pleaseeeeeee

Omgg Bett that’s a good idea

[nikifyme]

I lowkey want to make a series abt the HYBE house where most of the popular group formed under hybe all come together to live in a house (basically hype house) still idol!yn x idol!niki and they just all have fun and live life. If I do end up making it it won’t be too long unless you guys want!!

Let me know!!!

[nikifyme]

READ ME

paring: bookstore owner!huh yunjin x fem!student!reader

preview: you’re a broke, overworked snu pre-med student just trying to survive your first semester when you stumble into a cozy little bookstore in search of used textbooks. and instead, accidentally leave behind a piece of your heart. when you can’t afford the books, the impossibly pretty owner with the soft smile and cinnamon voice surprises you with kindness you weren’t expecting. you try to forget her, but she doesn’t forget you — and when you finally go back, everything shifts. maybe this semester won’t just be about surviving after all.

a/n: hello!! my first fic >.<

the first thing you noticed about the bookstore was the smell.

not like old-dusty-grandma-bookstore smell, but—warm. like cinnamon and ink and the kind of coffee that you just know was brewed by someone who knows exactly how many seconds to let the espresso sit before pouring the milk. it was the kind of place that made you want to write poetry, or read tolstoy, or fall in love with someone who wore rings on every finger.

and it was quiet. not dead-silent like the library in finals week, but soft. like a whisper. like maybe if you stood still long enough, the books would start talking.

you adjusted your backpack straps, trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted every time you thought about your bank account. or, more specifically, the fact that it was as empty as your fridge. which was currently housing a single bottle of expired kimchi and a half-eaten rice ball.

classic.

you stepped further inside, your shoes squeaking against the hardwood floor, and that’s when you saw her.

behind the counter. blonde hair pulled up in a messy kind of bun that looked both chaotic and intentional, like she’d been running around for hours and still somehow looked like a pinterest board. she had a ring on her thumb and a bandaid on her pinky, and she was flipping through a paperback with the kind of focus that made you feel like you were intruding just by existing near her airspace.

you cleared your throat.

she looked up.

and smiled.

oh no.

you felt your brain short-circuit a little bit because—wow. she had beautiful lips. and this sleepy, crooked smile that made your bones feel like warm pudding. and her voice, when she spoke, was low and casual, like she was so used to talking to strangers that flirting was just muscle memory.

“hey, welcome in,” she said, leaning on the counter. “looking for anything specific?”

you held up your phone, where you’d typed out a list of textbooks for your korean lit seminar and one very overpriced econ course you were already regretting enrolling in.

“just some textbooks,” you said. “mostly used, if you have them.”

she took your phone, her fingers brushing yours for half a second, and then she turned toward the computer.

“snu student?” she asked, typing fast.

you nodded. “first year. somehow already drowning.”

“ah,” she shot you a sympathetic look. “welcome to the club.”

you watched her as she scanned the shelves behind the register, grabbing books with practiced ease. like she knew the store better than her own apartment. like she lived here.

(maybe she did.)

ten minutes later, she had a stack in her arms. your exact list, all used copies, some with notes in the margins and coffee stains on the covers. they looked loved.

you loved them already.

“this is all of them,” she said, placing them gently on the counter. “with the used discount, it comes to—” she glanced at the screen, then winced slightly. “68,000 won.”

you smiled, tight-lipped.

reached for your wallet.

opened it.

and then you froze.

you knew what was in there. you knew. but somehow, seeing the pathetic 12,000 won in cash and your debit card—which you were 99.9% sure would get declined—felt like a slap anyway.

you looked up, panic rising in your throat like acid.

“i—” you started, clutching your wallet like it owed you something. “i’m so sorry. i thought i had more in my account, but—i guess my scholarship money hasn’t come in yet, and my parents are kind of... tapped out right now, and—i’m really sorry. i didn’t mean to waste your time.”

you were talking too fast. your cheeks burned. your eyes stung in the way they always did when you were humiliated but trying very hard not to cry in public.

she didn’t say anything at first.

just tilted her head a little. looked at you with something that wasn’t pity—thank god—but wasn’t nothing, either.

and then she smiled again, soft this time.

“don’t worry about it.”

you blinked. “what?”

“seriously,” she said, pushing the books into a neat stack. “no big deal. i’ve been there. just come back when you can. or not. either way.”

you stared at her.

she stared back.

and you had this wild, irrational urge to hug her. or marry her. or at least ask her name.

but instead, you just nodded, muttered another apology, and turned around fast enough to nearly knock over a display of poetry anthologies.

on your way out, you heard her laugh.

and later that night, when you were lying in bed with your rice ball dinner and a pit in your stomach, you thought about that laugh.

and the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled.

and how maybe, if you ever got your scholarship money, you’d go back.

for the books.

…probably.

yunjin tried not to think about you.

she really did. she had more than enough to do — a double shift, three boxes of new arrivals to catalog, and a growing pile of receipts that looked like a papercut waiting to happen. her to-do list was scribbled on a sticky note she’d stuck to her phone case, which was both practical and a little tragic, depending on how you viewed organizational systems.

but she kept glancing at the door.

just in case.

maybe you’d come back at the end of the week.

maybe you were waiting for payday.

or maybe you were just too embarrassed. (she’d seen the look on your face — wide-eyed, apologetic, like you were two seconds from bolting out of your own skin. it made something in her chest twist weirdly.)

“you’re doing that thing again,” chaewon said, swinging into the back room with a half-eaten donut in one hand and a very dramatic sigh.

“what thing?” yunjin asked, totally not defensive.

“the thing where you stare at the door like a sad golden retriever.”

“i’m not—” yunjin paused. “okay, maybe a little.”

chaewon raised an eyebrow and plopped into the creaky desk chair, spinning lazily. “is this about the pretty girl who almost cried in front of the register?”

“…i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“sure you don’t.”

yunjin sighed, leaning against the counter. “she was just… cute. and stressed. and she really wanted those books.”

chaewon tilted her head. “so why don’t you just find her?”

yunjin blinked. “what, like stalk her?”

“you’re literally a bookstore owner. not interpol. calm down.” chaewon took another bite of donut and spoke through it. “what did she say she studied?”

“uh…” yunjin tried to remember the conversation — the nervous smile, the way your hands trembled slightly when you handed her your phone. “she mentioned econ. but also something about korean lit? oh — and she said it was her first year.”

“so she’s a freshman at SNU,” chaewon said, tapping her donut against her chin like it was a stylus. “probably undeclared, but taking lit and econ?”

“maybe,” yunjin said, eyes narrowing. “wait — she said something about pre-med. i think. like she was already drowning.”

chaewon snapped her fingers. “boom. pre-med. that narrows it down.”

“not really?”

“okay, but she also said she’s on scholarship, right?” chaewon grinned, that mischievous look she always got when she was about to do something slightly morally questionable but deeply entertaining. “i could ask my friend in the admin office. she owes me a favor.”

yunjin blinked. “you have a friend in the admin office?”

“i have contacts, yunjin.”

“you’re terrifying.”

“thank you.”

chaewon clocked out at seven, leaving behind her half-empty iced americano and a playlist full of early 2000s girl group bangers echoing quietly through the store.

the second she was gone, yunjin made her move.

she pulled out the list you’d shown her — still saved in the system from earlier — and made her way through the shelves like a woman on a mission. she found every book you’d asked for, even the stupidly expensive econ one with the cracked spine and four different highlighter colors bleeding through the pages.

she didn’t even flinch at the total this time.

as she scanned each one behind the register, she imagined what your face would look like if she handed them to you. if she said, hey, i remembered. and i didn’t want you to go without.

not out of pity.

but because you looked like someone who worked hard. like someone who didn’t ask for anything unless it was absolutely necessary. someone who probably hadn’t had many people do something for you just because.

she slipped the receipt into the front cover of the lit anthology and placed the books into a paper bag with tiny stars on it — the last one in the drawer. her favorite.

then she wrote a note.

just a sticky note, folded in half.

nothing dramatic. just:

in case you still need them. no strings attached. - yunjin

and below it, in smaller handwriting:

p.s. you left a mark on my tbr list. come back and tell me if you like han kang.

she placed the bag on the back shelf, behind the counter. right next to the “lost & found” box that only ever held one lonely scarf and a pair of broken glasses.

and then she waited.

not like a sad golden retriever.

(maybe a little like a hopeful one.)

you were lying flat on your back, staring at the ceiling like it had all the answers, when your roomate, minji, poked her head into your room with the kind of energy that said i’m about to fix your life whether you like it or not.

“okay,” she said, arms crossed, “how long are you planning to sulk before i have to stage a full intervention?”

you groaned. “i’m not sulking. i’m just… reflecting.”

“reflecting,” she repeated, completely unimpressed. “on how broke you are?”

“…yes.”

she sighed and flopped onto the foot of your bed, pulling your blanket over her legs like it belonged to her (it did, technically — she stole it from your laundry three weeks ago and never gave it back).

“you know,” she said, “you could just go back. to the bookstore.”

you rolled over and buried your face in your pillow. “i can’t. it’s too humiliating. she probably thinks i’m a scammer.”

“she probably thinks you’re cute.”

you peeked at her. “what?”

“nothing,” she said quickly, but with a tiny smirk that screamed i know things. then she reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a folded bill. “here. take this.”

you blinked. “is that—minji, no. i can’t take your money.”

she shoved it into your hand anyway. “it’s not all of it, but it’s half. and i know you’re too stubborn to ask your parents. so just… go. see if the books are still there. maybe she held them.”

you stared at the cash in your palm like it was burning a hole through your morals.

“minji, i’m serious—”

“and i’m serious,” she said, sitting up. “you’re not getting through pre-med without that econ textbook. unless you want to fail and cry and drop out and move home and become a barista.”

you opened your mouth to reply.

“which, for the record, i would fully support,” she added, “but you’d be very annoying about it.”

you sighed.

and twenty minutes later, you were standing outside the bookstore again, your heart hammering against your ribs like it was trying to escape your chest.

the bell above the door jingled softly when you stepped inside.

the store looked exactly the same — warm light, soft music, the smell of paper and cinnamon and something floral you couldn’t quite place.

but the girl behind the counter wasn’t there.

your heart dropped a little, irrationally.

you glanced around, unsure what to do, when someone — a different employee, not the girl with the dimpled smile — looked up from the desk and nodded toward the back.

“you looking for someone?” they asked.

“uh—i was here a few days ago. i ordered some textbooks?”

they blinked. “oh. you’re that girl.”

you froze. “what?”

they just smiled. “hang on.”

a second later, they reached under the counter and pulled out a paper bag with tiny stars on it. your name was written on a sticky note in neat handwriting.

you blinked. “wait—these are mine?”

“yup.” they nudged the bag toward you. “my co-worker, yunjin, left them for you.”

you opened it slowly, your breath catching when you saw every single book from your list — the same worn copies, the same covers. a receipt was tucked into the front, and when you checked the total, it read ₩0.00.

your fingers trembled.

“is she… here?” you asked softly.

the employee gestured toward the back, where you could see someone restocking the fiction shelf. blonde bun. rings on her fingers. a faded t-shirt with a sun on it.

your heart did something very stupid.

you walked toward her before you could overthink it.

and when she turned around — a paperback in one hand, a pencil tucked behind her ear — she smiled like she’d been expecting you.

“hey,” she said, soft and casual.

you held up the bag, your voice catching.

“you paid for them.”

“guilty,” she said, leaning against the shelf. “you kind of looked like you needed someone to.”

you blinked fast, trying not to cry in a bookstore. again.

“thank you,” you said, stepping closer. “really. you didn’t have to—”

“i wanted to,” she interrupted gently. then, with a small shrug, “plus, now i can guilt you into telling me if you liked the lit anthology.”

you laughed, breathless with relief and something else. something warmer.

you reached into your tote bag, pulled out a pen, and scribbled your number on the back of her sticky note.

when you handed it to her, you felt bold. maybe for the first time in weeks.

“you can ask me when i finish it.”

she took the note like it was something delicate. looked at it, then at you, and smiled — slow and soft and a little bit dangerous.

“i will,” she said. “promise.”

[nikifyme]

⋆ ୨୧ ⁺ ∿ sour grapes . . .

[nikifyme]

Caught on Live

Word Count: 6.5k ish

Genre: Idol AU / Friends-to-Lovers / Fluff / Romance

idol!yunjin x blk!reader

⸻

It starts normal. As far as LE SSERAFIM’s lives go.

Yunjin’s lounging in a hoodie (yours), scrolling comments, not trying too hard. Sakura’s fighting with the phone tripod, Kazuha’s singing into a spoon, and Eunchae is screaming about her missing fries.

“We literally have no schedule today,” Yunjin says into the camera. “So now you have this.”

Then the door swings open.

You walk in — hoodie, sweats, takeout bags in one hand, drink in the other, casually chewing gum like you’re not about to ruin her composure.

“Got the food,” you say, dropping the bags like this is your apartment.

Yunjin smiles too fast. “Oh, he remembered the drink.”

You hold it out. “Knew you’d be mad if I forgot.”

She takes a sip.

And then, like you’ve done it a million times, you grab it and drink from the same straw.

Sip. Chill. Unbothered.

“Still sweet,” you say.

Yunjin freezes mid-breath. Her ears turn red.

“Did you—? Why do you always—?”

“What?” You pass it back to her. “You weren’t done?”

She takes it slowly, tries to hide her face behind the cup.

“You’re so annoying,” she mumbles.

“You’re still drinking after me, though.”

⸻

Chaewon pulls out her phone. “You need to see the edit they made of you.”

Yunjin’s like, “Of me?”

Chaewon: “No. Of him.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Yunjin plays it on her lap. Everyone leans in. The music’s slow, the video’s freaky. You in the background shirtless, yawning, tying your hair up, licking sauce off your thumb.

The caption says :

“he doesn’t talk much, but he knows what he’s doing.”

“her knees definitely gave out after this scene.”

Yunjin covers her face with both hands.

“WHY WOULD THEY—?”

You just chuckle. “Kinda flattering.”

She keeps watching. Her thumbs twitch, and before she even realizes it—

She taps ‘Save to Camera Roll.’

You see it.

“Wow.”

“Wait—NO—NO I DIDN’T MEAN TO—”

“You saved it.”

“My finger slipped!! I was—I was gonna report it—”

“You were gonna rewatch it.”

Her whole face turns crimson. “STOP.”

“You want me to recreate it or something?”

Yunjin lets out a noise that isn’t even a word.

Chaewon SCREAMS. Sakura falls over. Eunchae throws a napkin at you.

⸻

You lean over, eyes on the phone still sitting in her lap.

“What part was your favorite?”

“I will literally throw this drink at you.”

“Was it the shirtless one?”

“I’M GOING TO LEAVE MY OWN LIVE.”

“That one where I was licking my thumb—”

“DON’T FINISH THAT SENTENCE.”

You grin, sitting back.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Yunjin hides her whole face in her sleeves, shoulders shaking.

The chat is in full meltdown:

[“THE WAY SHE SAVED IT WITHOUT THINKING 😭😭😭”]

[“HE’S SO CALM AND SHE’S PANICKINGGGG”]

[“he’s flirting and she’s buffering”]

[“she’s redder than the tteokbokki”]

[“THEY ARE SO OBVIOUS AND I LOVE THEM”]

⸻

Eventually, the other girls peel away. The camera’s still on, half-forgotten. Just you and Yunjin now, curled up side by side on the couch, pretending the world doesn’t exist.

She’s still blushing. Still holding the phone. Still pretending she’s not staring at the thumbnail of the video she saved.

You look over at her.

“You’re still thinking about it.”

“No I’m not.”

“You saved it.”

“It was reflex!!”

You laugh. “Reflex is wild.”

You move closer — not dramatic. Just leaning in, eyes soft.

“Want me to make you blush more?”

“No.”

You kiss her anyway.

Slow. Warm. Casual, but deep enough to make her forget her name for a second.

She gasps into it, then melts. Her fingers curl in your sleeve.

When you pull back, she’s a mess of pink cheeks and wide eyes and silent screaming in her brain.

You say, perfectly calm:

“You should save that one too.”

Yunjin hides behind your hoodie. Fully gone.

⸻

The live ends.

aight I lowkey fw this onee

[nikifyme]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖. yuna, she/her, 18, strawberry soul, yunjin-obsessed, niki is the loml, matcha & soft kisses, hopelessly romantic, lives in her notes app .𖥔 ݁ ˖.

masterlist (eventually)

.🍓 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍰 . basics

• inbox open — say hi!

• she/her

• I only write for enha and le sserafim, maybe njz!!

[nikifyme]

When love was quieter

— niki x reader angst + soft heartbreak

pairing: niki x non-idol!reader

genre: angst, secret relationship, first love, break up

warnings: emotional manipulation (by the company), crying, long-distance pain

word count: I genuinely dc

⸻

you met riki when he was still just riki.

before the cameras. before the trainees.

before he was “niki from enhypen.”

⸻

he used to ride his bike to your house after school

headphones on, backpack barely zipped

always had gum, always had a dumb joke, always had that look in his eyes like

“you’re the only person who really gets me.”

⸻

you were kids.

you didn’t know what forever meant

but he held your hand like he did.

⸻

you were the first person he told about the audition.

and when he made it into i-land,

you stayed up every night refreshing updates

praying, manifesting, crying when he cried on screen.

⸻

he didn’t change.

not at first.

he still texted you every chance he got

still remembered the inside jokes

still sent you videos of him dancing

“tell me if it looks weird. i trust you more than the coaches.”

⸻

but fame is loud.

and you?

you were soft.

⸻

it started with slower replies.

less calls.

less “i miss you.”

more

“i’m sorry i can’t talk rn.”

“hybe’s watching us.”

“they said we should stop.”

you laughed at first.

“who’s they? we’re not hurting anybody.”

but he wasn’t joking.

⸻

you sat on your bedroom floor

his name lighting up your screen

and his voice cracked when he said it

“they’re saying it’s too risky now. like… dating someone who’s not famous. it’s not a good look.”

you blinked.

“so what are you saying? you wanna break up?”

he didn’t answer right away

just breathed hard

like he couldn’t believe he was even doing this

“i don’t want to. i swear, i don’t. it’s just… i don’t have a choice right now.”

you didn’t cry.

not then.

you just said:

“okay. cool. do what you have to do.”

and hung up.

⸻

he texted.

a lot.

then less.

then not at all.

you tried to stay mad.

you posted cute photos.

ignored enhypen’s songs.

acted like you didn’t care.

you just sat there

in the dark

like

“damn. he meant all that shit.”

⸻

now he’s global.

and you’re just… someone he used to know.

but sometimes

when a fan camera catches him zoning out

or laughing at something no one else heard

you wonder

“is he thinking about me?”

sometimes

you still sleep in the hoodie he left behind.

just to remember what being loved like that felt like.

damn this shit is lowkey sad asf

[nikifyme]

Live sessions

pairing: niki x reader

genre: idol!au, fluff, secret relationship.

warnings: none. Just too much fluff tbh

summary: you’re in NewJeans, dating Niki from Enhypen on the low. One night you go live and sing his song, “Fever,” catching Niki off guard .

word count: 1.4k

⸻

You never thought dating an idol in the same company would be lowkey complicated. Especially someone like Niki, whose every move gets dissected by fans worldwide, whose songs play in every corner of Seoul, and whose presence is as intense as the spotlight on stage.

But here you are. A year into your debut with NewJeans, juggling practice, interviews, and the unspoken rule: keep your relationship under wraps. Fans don’t know. The public doesn’t know. But the late-night texts and stolen hoodies? Yeah, those are real.

⸻

That night, you’re in your dorm, tired and wired, wrapped in Niki’s oversized hoodie. Your phone lights up with fans begging for a live.

“I’m tired but bored,” you say, “Let’s do something fun.”

Chat floods with:

“sing fever plz”

“I feel like she’d eat with enhypen style music”

“pls sing an enhypen song ”

You smirk. Why not? You pull up Fever by Enhypen and start singing. But this isn’t a cover—it’s your version, soft and slow, like a secret whispered.

⸻

You sing:

Ah-ah-ah-ah

Give me fever

얼음 같은 눈 (그 붉은 눈빛)

Breaking me in two (나를 흔들지)

왕좌에 앉은 네 앞에 설 때

내 안에 타는 불길 (타는 불길)

You pause, fingers tapping your phone screen, eyes gleaming with mischief.

What I gotta do? (뜨거운 손이)

너를 찾아도 (I cannot have it)

너에게 손대선 안 돼 절대

하지만 이끌리지, 난 아플수록 널 원해

The chat explodes: “OMG SHE KNOWS THE LYRICS” “I KNEW SHE WOULD COOK” “NIKI PLEASE WATCH.”

You smile wider, voice dipping lower, almost like you’re confessing a secret.

멈춰, 제발, 멈추지 마

멈춰, 제발, 멈추지 (ah)

너 때문에 온몸이 타올라

너 때문에 심장이 목말라

Halfway through, you add your own little twist — a falsetto that makes you giggle.

Like a fever, fever, fever, fever

널 안고 싶어, 널 안고 싶어

And just when you hit the chorus, your phone buzzes: a text from Niki.

My🤍:“You’re insane. Stop embarrassing me.”

You laugh out loud, hiding your face behind the phone.

밀어내도, 내 안에 타올라

재가 돼도, 불꽃이 피어나

Like a fever, fever, fever, oh

널 알고 싶어, 널 알고 싶어

⸻

Somewhere in a dimly lit practice room, Niki’s shoulders relax for the first time all day. He watches the live replay, smiling at how effortlessly you make his world yours.

And you? You end the live, shrugging.

“Don’t @ me if I messed up the Korean.”

The chat responds with endless tags of the enhypen page.

⸻

Later that night, you post a black-and-white IG story:

The lyrics softly typed across the screen, “널 알고 싶어~”

Just to show the world that your bond is strong and I would take so much to destroy…or would it?

AIGHT THIS IS SO TRASH PLEASE DONT I JUST LOVE FEVER ITS MY SOTY