sun2403

[sun2403]

writing hate comments about sunoo being ‘too feminine’ and ‘gay’ while ignoring his insane talent that’s so far beyond what ur whole existence could ever come close to. meanwhile, ur hunched over like a mouldy goblin, typing with fungus infested fingers that probably smell like expired tuna, festering inside your mom’s basement where your presence is the reason every family dinner ends in silence. they should have flushed u down the toliet the moment they saw that glitched out face that looks like a cursed snapchat filter fighting for its life. crawl back into the sewage you came from, scrub ur crusty ass, and get GET. A. JOB before society files a restraining order and the universe demanding a refund on ur birth, and before you become a horror tale, no one dares to mention around children.

[sun2403]

Park Jongseong.

Jay Park was a name that sent shivers down spines. A ruthless leader, a man people feared. His subordinates never dared to disobey, always kneeling before him. No one questioned his authority—because no one lived long enough to try.

But what they didn’t know was… behind closed doors, the monster turned into the softest, most lovesick man for one person—his lovely, cutie wife.

In the morning, instead of issuing threats, he buried himself in her warmth, nuzzling into her neck like a needy kitten. His deep, intimidating voice softened into a husky whisper as he mumbled, “Morning, bunny…” while pulling her closer, refusing to let her go.

The world feared him. But in their shared bed, Jay Park was nothing more than a man hopelessly in love.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

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[sun2403]

Lee Heeseung

inspired by Song "Simon says" - YC Banks. 🐩🐩

The party was in full swing, bass vibrating through the floor as neon lights flickered across the lavish penthouse. You weren’t even supposed to be here, but your best friend had dragged you along, insisting it would be fun.

But now, you regretted it.

Too many people. Too much noise. Too many unfamiliar faces. You slipped away from the main crowd, finding solace on the balcony. The city stretched before you, glittering under the night sky. You exhaled, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cool breeze kissed your skin.

"You don't look like you're having fun," a voice said. You turned, startled, only to be met with the last person you expected

—Lee Heeseung.

Tall, lean, effortlessly cool in a leather jacket, Heeseung was the type of guy who had people whispering his name wherever he went. He carried an aura of danger and thrill, someone who never followed the rules. And right now, he was looking at you with those sharp eyes, a smirk playing at his lips.

"I’m not really the party type," you admitted.

"Yeah?" He stepped closer, tilting his head. "Then why'd you come?"

You hesitated. "Peer pressure."

He chuckled, resting his forearms on the balcony railing. "Simon says, follow the crowd, huh?" You blinked at the reference to the childhood game, then scoffed. "Something like that." Heeseung hummed, tapping his fingers against the glass. "You always listen to what Simon says?"

"Not always."

His smirk widened. "Good. 'Cause I don’t either."

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The sounds of the party faded, leaving only the distant hum of the city and the soft rustling of the wind. Then, Heeseung turned to face you fully. "Wanna get out of here?"

You frowned. "What?"

"You don't like the party. I don’t either. Let’s go somewhere else," he said casually, but his gaze was unreadable. "Unless you're still playing by the rules?"

Something about the way he said it made your heart race.

------

You barely knew him. You’d only seen him in passing at university, heard the rumors—about how he did whatever he wanted, about the girls who fell for him too fast, about how he never let anyone in too deep.

But right now, with the city lights reflecting in his dark eyes, you couldn’t look away. Maybe just this once, you wouldn’t listen to what Simon says.

"Okay," you whispered.

Heeseung’s smirk softened, something flickering in his expression—approval, maybe even intrigue. He took your hand, his grip warm and firm.

"Let’s go."

────୨ৎ──── ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

enjoy!! ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

[sun2403]

Nishimura Riki

Inspired by Song "She's crazy but she's mine" - Alexey Vorobyov. 💃💃

The first time Nishimura Riki saw her, she was dancing on top of a bar counter, barefoot, hair wild, and a mischievous grin stretched across her face. The neon lights of the club flickered against her skin, and her laughter rang louder than the bass thumping through the speakers.

“Sha-la-la-la-la~” she sang, spinning in circles, arms thrown up in reckless abandon.

Riki leaned against the wall, watching her with a smirk. She was insane. No, really—who the hell climbed onto the counter just to dance? But damn, if he wasn’t mesmerized.

He had heard about her before. The girl who partied like she was born for it. The one who pulled her friends into the center of the dance floor, spinning them around until they couldn’t breathe from laughter. The one who knew every DJ in town because she never missed a night out. And now, here she was, in front of him, completely oblivious to how everyone stared—some in admiration, some in amusement, and some in sheer disbelief.

“Dude, don’t even think about it,” Jay nudged him, following Riki’s gaze. “She’s crazy.”

Riki chuckled, eyes never leaving her. “Yeah… but she’s mine.” Jay scoffed. “She doesn’t even know you exist.”

“She will.”

------

The next weekend, he found her again. Different club, same energy. She was on the dance floor this time, twirling in sync with the flashing lights, singing the same silly melody.

“Sha-la-la-la-la~”

Riki watched as she grabbed her friend’s hands, laughing, their bodies swaying to the beat. There was something about the way she moved—so free, so unapologetic.

Before he could second-guess himself, he walked up to her, sliding smoothly into her space. “You always sing that song?” he asked, smirking. She turned to him, eyes bright with excitement. “It’s my theme song,” she declared. “Do you like it?”

Riki chuckled. “I think I like you.”

She gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Oh no, you’re falling for me? You should be careful.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m crazy.”

Riki leaned in, close enough to catch the scent of her perfume—sweet, with a hint of mischief. “I know,” he whispered. “And I don’t mind.”

Her grin widened. “Then dance with me.”

And just like that, he was pulled into her world—a world of neon lights, loud music, and laughter that never seemed to end. She twirled him around, hands locked in his, her feet barely touching the ground. The rest of the club faded into the background.

For the first time in a long time, Riki felt alive. Yeah, she was crazy. But she was his.

────୨ৎ──── ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

enjoy!! ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐