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wonziz · 14 days ago

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Hi! I'm new here so i don't know if you write. But I thought I'd sent a request, just in case. Could you write idol x reader but it's a slow love story. I don't have much to ask except for soft and slow ☺️ I'm thinkin maybe Jungwon or Sunghoon, you can choose :) I really liked the Jay stories ❤️❤️❤️❤️

NOT YET, THEN YES

Pairing: idol!Jungwon x afab-fan!reader

Synopsis: They met by chance one, twice and thrice - no promises, just a folded note and a feeling that lingered. It wasn’t love at first sight, but something quiet stayed - until not yet became forever.

Word count: 2.7k

Author's note: Thank you for the ask anonnie - I've actually never written here, never even shared my work before. Ngl Im not confident in writing but inspiration struck and it had to be done. Hopefully I did your ask justice. I dont really like the first bits... I'm not a 100% sure if Ill continue writing but I'd love to get asks and prompts for it just to see if I can get inspired again <3!

Enhypen Bookshelf [[]

Not a flashy, arena-level chaos. A smaller venue. You’re nervous, of course, but you’re not here to cry or scream. You’re here because you made peace with something a long time ago: this love doesn’t need to be returned to be valid.

You’re ushered forward. You barely register the staff’s words.

Jungwon.

He’s more boy than god up close. Clear skin, focused eyes. Soft smile He greets you like he does every fan. Polite, grateful, warm. You smile gently, not forcing. Just being.

You place something on the table. It’s not a huge gift. Just a short letter. You don’t even expect him to open it.

He glances at your name on the A5 paper. “yn,” he says softly, reading it with care.

And then, you meet his eyes. He’s used to quick fan interactions. But there’s something in yours that holds him. A steadiness. An ache he recognises.

You manage to say, “Thank you for just existing.”

He blinks. It’s nothing fancy. But your voice is steady, and it hits him. Maybe he’s heard it a thousand times. But this time, it feels like it came from someone who meant it in a different way. Someone who understands the weight.

His brows furrow gently, touched. “Thank you… for saying that,” he replies. His voice is clear, soft around the edges.

It’s a brief interaction. The staff move you along. He sees hundreds more faces as usual.

But that night, in his hotel room, he picks up your letter. Maybe out of curiosity. Maybe because your eyes lingered in his mind longer than they should’ve.

He reads your words. You didn’t confess a dramatic love.

And he doesn’t cry. But he does feel it.

For the first time in a while, someone saw him not as an idol, or a leader, or a pretty face. But as someone human. Someone young and trying and maybe a little tired.

He folds the letter and places it in his bag. Quietly. Carefully. Like it matters.

𖤐

You never know he read it. But he remembers.

And if your eyes meet again, there’s a pause. A flicker. A half-smile that looks just a little too personal.

Not because he loves you romantically. Not yet.

But because he remembers the girl who said, “Thank you for existing,” and meant it with her whole soul.

And that? That’s how real stories begin.

𖤐

The hotel room was too quiet.

Even with the hum of the air conditioner and the dull ache in his shoulders, he couldn’t settle. His phone was facedown. His members were in their own rooms - most probably asleep, some playing games. He lay in bed, arms behind his head, eyes on the ceiling.

And then, his eyes drifted to his bag. Still zipped. Tucked in the corner. Full of trinkets and notes from fans. Some he’d glance at, some he’d save to open later on the plane. But tonight, something tugged.

He sat up.

Unzipped the bag.

Among the brightly coloured envelopes and carefully wrapped presents, he found it.

A plain letter. Neatly folded. His name. His real one, 양정원, written in small handwriting on the front. No sparkles. No hearts. No perfume. Just intention.

He opened it again.

“Dear Jungwon,

You don’t know me, and that’s okay.

I just wanted you to know I don’t admire you because you’re perfect. I admire you because you’re still here. Because you carry so much and still find reasons to smile.

You remind me that surviving is its own kind of strength.

Thank you for existing :)

~ yn”

He stared at the paper. His fingers stilled. Something lodged itself in his throat, not a lump of tears, not quite.

The name clicked. The girl from the fansign. She hadn’t trembled. Just looked at him like she’d already known him for a long time.

He sat there for a long time, your letter balanced on his lap. The weight of your words hung heavier than the applause ever did.

𖤐

It’s been a few weeks.

He still thought about it sometimes. After long rehearsals. When the fans called his name and his smile felt just a little more real. When he checked his phone and re-read that line: “I admire you because you’re still here.”

Sometimes it haunted him in the good kind of way. The grounding kind. The kind that says: someone out there knows the cost, and still chooses to love gently.

Maybe he didn’t know who you really were. Maybe he’d never see you again.

But the truth settled in his chest like a soft pulse: Someone out there held space for him. Quietly. Unconditionally.

𖤐

It’s months later. You’ve moved on with your life - university assignments, late train rides, work, family. Jungwon still lives in your heart, tucked into the same place where your strength and softness coexist. But he’s on the shelf now. Safe. Untouched.

But fate is messy.

𖤐

You’re in Japan visiting family. You’re walking alone in a quieter part of the city, tucked into the calm of late afternoon. The wind is still chilly, but the sakura are beginning to flirt with the breeze. You step into a tucked away bookstore café. Not fancy. Local. You order a hojicha latte, take a corner seat, and breathe.

He walks in ten minutes later.

You don’t see him at first. Not until you glance toward the poetry section and your eyes land on that familiar posture: hood up, mask on, fingers trailing down the spines of books like he’s memorising them. Your chest goes still.

You shake it off. It can’t be. What are the odds?

But as you get up to leave, you cross paths near the doorway.

He looks up.

And stops.

“…yn?”

You blink. His voice is hesitant. But deliberate.

You’re in Tokyo. In a completely different country. At a random shop. And yet here he is. And somehow…somehow…he remembers.

You stammer, “Hi… how did you…”

He lets out a quiet laugh, eyes crinkling. “You have a very… grounded kind of presence. It’s not something easy to forget.”

And then a pause. The kind that asks permission.

So you nod.

And he says, “Would you want to… get a drink? Walk?”

You do.

𖤐

You two walk through the back streets of Yanaka, where the city breathes slower and the air carries stories. He’s quieter than you imagined. Gentle, observant, eyes darting to you occasionally like he’s still trying to place what exactly you are in his world. You learn he’s there on a short break. Not working. Not performing. Just existing.

You don’t gush. You don’t recite facts. You don’t need to.

He asks you what you’re reading lately. You ask if he writes lyrics just for himself. There’s a flicker in his eyes when you say that - like maybe he’s never said it out loud but you somehow knew.

At one point he says, “When I first read your letter, it felt like someone was holding out their hand to me. Not pulling. Just… offering. Like, ‘I see you.’”

You turn to him. “That’s all I ever wanted. Just for you to be seen.”

He smiles. Not the rehearsed kind.

The real kind.

𖤐

You don’t exchange numbers. Not yet. But before you part, he pulls something from his pocket—a thin, folded scrap of notepaper.

He writes:

“I don’t believe in coincidences. If we meet again, let’s make time for more than just a walk.”

- JW

You take the note. You walk away.

And for the first time, you feel it. Not just the ache of loving someone from afar.

But the quiet thrill of maybe being loved back, even just a little. Even just enough.

𖤐

You both go home - him to Seoul, you to your tiny world. You don’t expect anything more. You press the folded note on the back of your phone and let life resume: your assignments, your family, the train rides. You think of him sometimes when your fingers brush the edge of the page where his handwriting lives. But you don’t reach out. You don’t even know how.

It’s been months, you’re back in Tokyo, helping your aunt with something, a quick trip. You’re walking along the Meguro River, early evening, camera around your neck, catching the last bloom of the season. You’re framing a shot when you hear your name.

Soft, but certain.

“Yn.”

You turn.

He’s there. No hoodie this time. No mask. Just Jungwon. Yang Jungwon.

He smiles like you’re someone he was actually hoping to find.

“I asked the bookstore café owner,” he admits sheepishly. “The one in Yanaka. She said you’d be here.”

You laugh in disbelief. “That’s stalker behaviour.”

He grins. “It was detective behaviour. There’s a difference.”

𖤐

You don’t fall into romance. Not yet. He’s an idol. You’re a student, just you. Your lives don’t line up in any conventional way. But you begin to meet, quietly, rarely, intentionally.

Once in Fukuoka, when you’re there for a family wedding. Once in Seoul, when you’re on a student exchange. Sometimes just to talk. Sometimes to sit in bookstores across from each other, not even speaking, sharing silence like it’s sacred.

He listens to your stories. About the hardships. About being the strong one. And he doesn’t try to fix anything.

He just… stays.

And you do the same when he tells you about the pressures he can’t name in public. The loneliness of being known by everyone but understood by very few.

You become his quiet place. And he becomes your pause button.

𖤐

It’s been two years since.

It’s raining in Tokyo. You’re seated across from each other in a tiny jazz café, your umbrella dripping near the door, your tea long forgotten.

He looks up from his notebook and says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world:

“You once told me you admired me because I kept going.”

You nod slowly.

He closes the notebook. “But I think I’ve kept going because of people like you.”

And you don’t say anything right away.

Because how do you respond to something that sacred?

Instead, you reach across the table and place your hand gently over his.

You’re still not lovers.

But you’re not strangers anymore.

And that space between?

That’s where everything lives now: the letters, the bookstore in Tokyo, the sakura you walked under twice, the folded paper in your journal, and the way he still says your name like it’s something soft he found and wants to protect.

𖤐

It’s been years now.

No headlines. No scandals. Just a quiet, private knowing. A thread between your worlds that’s only visible to the two of you.

You’re back in Seoul, not for him, but for your own reasons: a conference, a short-term internship, something that finally feels like you’re moving forward in your own story. But the moment you landed, he knew. You never told him directly, but he knew. Because he always does.

𖤐

You don’t text him. He doesn’t text you. That’s not how you operate.

But you walk to the old hanok café in Seochon. The one with the courtyard where ginkgo leaves collect like gold. You go around 3 p.m., sip on warm citron tea, and pull out your book.

And right on time, he slips into the seat across from you like he never left.

“Still reading poetry I can’t understand?” he teases.

You smirk. “Still pretending your hoodie makes you unrecognisable?”

He grins. He’s grown. His jawline sharper. Shoulders broader. But his eyes are the same. Still full of that quiet kind of searching.

𖤐

You walk through Bukchon Hanok Village, speaking in soft voices so the wind doesn’t steal your secrets.

He buys you hoddeok from a street vendor and insists on tearing it in half so it’s even - burns his fingers. You don’t let him forget it.

You wander into a tiny art gallery and both get distracted by the same charcoal sketch of two faceless figures holding hands but facing away from each other. You stare. He whispers, “That’s us, isn’t it?” You don’t answer.

Later, seated on the rooftop of a building you’re pretty sure you weren’t allowed into, you eat convenience store ramen in silence. He swings his legs off the ledge like a child.

“You know,” he says, between bites, “if my life wasn’t so… scheduled, I think I’d have fallen for you by now.”

You don’t look at him when you reply, “Who says you haven’t?”

He doesn’t respond. But his pinky finger brushes yours on the ledge. Once. Deliberately.

And then he leaves it there.

𖤐

You’re the soft place he lands when the world is too loud. He’s the rare silence you let in.

You don’t call it love. Because love, in this world, means goodbyes and blurred lines and burning too fast.

You call it something else.

You call it “See you next time.”

You call it “Let me know when you’re in Tokyo again.”

You call it “I saved that poem for you.”

You call it “I’m still here.”

𖤐

He was in the practice room again. Alone. The mirrors caught him mid-spin, breath ragged, hair stuck to his neck. Music still playing, but he wasn’t dancing anymore. Just staring at himself. Not the way fans saw him. Not the leader. Not the shining star.

Just Jungwon. Exhausted. Twenty odd years. Wondering what the hell all this was supposed to mean.

He picked up his phone on instinct, scrolling past schedules, unread messages, group chats. He paused on the contact saved as: she exists. You hadn’t messaged in weeks. You never overreached.

You always gave without grabbing.

He clicked into your last text. It wasn’t dramatic.

Just: If it’s too heavy today. You don’t have to answer. Just breathe. I’m here.

He stared at it for too long. His thumb hovered, but he didn’t type anything back.

Instead, he let out a breath and whispered, “She sees me.”

And that was it.

That was the moment.

Not love at first sight.

Love in the long-sight. The slow build. The kind that made his chest ache not from wanting you, but from needing to be worthy of the way you saw him.

𖤐

It’s been too many years to count since you gave him the letter.

You’re home. You’ve finished your studies. You’ve grown. You’re still short, still quiet in the loudest ways. You still write letters you don’t send. Still tuck his memory into your quiet days, like a petal pressed between pages.

You’ve accepted that what you had with Jungwon might have just been a constellation. Not a path.

Until it isn’t.

It’s raining when it happens, of course.

You’re walking back from the train stop, a paper bag of groceries tucked under one arm, when someone calls your name across the street.

You pause. Turn.

He’s there.

Older. Hoodie half-drenched. Duffel bag over his shoulder. No cameras. No staff. Just him.

He walks toward you with the kind of smile that says, I’ve had this moment imagined for years.

“I meant to text,” he says, “but I didn’t want to ask. I just… wanted to come.”

You blink. “Come where?”

“Here.” He gestures around. “To you. To whatever you’re doing now.”

He shifts the strap of his bag, eyes flicking to yours with nervous certainty. “I realised something. I just- I’ve done the world tour. The global interviews. The Billboard charts. Everything honestly.”

His voice lowers. “But I’ve never held your hand.”

Your fingers twitch.

“Then maybe,” you whisper, “you should.”

And so he does.

𖤐

You still have your own lives. You still drink tea on opposite ends of the couch while reading different books. But now, when he visits, he leaves a toothbrush. A pair of slippers. A mug he calls his own.

Sometimes you catch him looking at you when he thinks you’re not watching. You don’t ask what he’s thinking.

Because you already know.

𖤐

You’re lying in bed, a late Sunday morning. Sunlight spilling across the sheets. Your hand is on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath.

He speaks softly.

“You know how I said I’ve never held your hand?”

You nod sleepily.

“I think I want to keep holding it.”

You smile into his skin.

“You always could’ve.”

And now, finally, he does.

𖤐

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wonziz · 14 days ago

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SOFT LAUNCH ✶ yang jungwon

in where you and your boyfriend soft launch each other ── boyfriend!jungwon & fem!rea 🍵 fluff est relationship

리 𓈒 for @weoris happy birthday oshin !

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wonziz · 14 days ago

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BACK TOGETHER ✶ park jongseong

◜ ᴗ⁠ ◝⁠ after many attempts you take your ex boyfriend back ⎯⎯ ex!jay x fem!rea 🎀 fluff

리 𓈒 for @boyfhee >< part one

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wonziz · 14 days ago

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BOYFRIEND STORIES 𓈒 lee heeseung

◜ᴗ⁠◝⁠ instagram posts of you and your man ⎯⎯ bf!heeseung x fem!rea ♱ fluff est—rs

love──ri first time making stories, hype it up!

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wonziz · 14 days ago

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DID IT AGAIN

你的微笑 ★ only for you

박성훈 & fem!reader wc 545 ◜ᯅ◝ fluff

REBLOG4AKISS

MANA: woaaah mana writing comeback after like 20 days act surprised !!!

You were both sitting cross-legged on the floor, a half finished forgotten mug of latte by his side and a board game spread out between you two. The atmosphere was perfect - rainy, dark evening.

You were winning.

Barely.

He's letting you know that.

But you don't know that.

You squinted at the board, thinking of your next move, completely unaware that his pawn was right behind yours. ''Okay if I land this right then I might enter the winning column..''

Sunghoon leans back, nodding slowly like he was super competitive- which he was. Just not with you - never with you. ''Don't have too much hope.''

You glare at him, handing him the dice.

He takes it.

Rolls.

Three.

Exactly how much he needed to wipe out your only pawn left on the board.

And since it was also his only pawn on the board he couldn't move any other.

Think fast.

You then looked up at him. ''..Sunghoon? What's taking you so-''

He squints at the dice as if it had threatened him and his entire bloodline. ''Oh- Nope. Doesn't count.''

You blink, confused. ''What?''

''My hand slipped.'' He picked up the dice. ''Wasn't a real roll.''

You raised your eyebrows. ''It literally landed.''

He shook his head, scoffing. ''Yeah but you see-'' He flicked his wrist dramatically. ''Angle was off, I swear I could get a better number. That- That was a cursed roll.''

You cross your arms, now unaware of what was going on. ''Really now? Cursed roll?''

He didn't even blink. ''Exactly.''

You narrowed your eyes. 'You're cheating.''

He gasped, looking you up and down as if judging your existance. ''You're accusing.''

He then quickly grabbed the dice before you could, rolling it again as he got a five, not enough to reach you. ''Yes! See I told you I could've gotten a better number.''

You shook your head, in disbelief. ''You are unbelievable.''

''Unbelievably in love with you.'' He said in a sing song tone, leaning closer to kiss you on the cheek, as if it was valid defense.

You tried, really tried to keep a straight face, but the smile one your face betrayed it all. ''You're letting me win.''

He eyed you. ''That's slander.''

''It's the truth.''

''Is not.''

''You kept coughing each time you got close to my pawn.''

''It was once.''

''Twice.''

He sighed, leaning back against the couch. ''You're scary when you lose.''

You gasped, standing up. ''I am not!''

''You threatened to flip the board last time.''

''That’s a completely normal emotional reaction.''

He laughed, eyes squinting, that smile that always made your chest warm, then he tapped your pawn forward.

''Congratulations. You just won the battle.''

You blinked. ''But I haven’t-''

He stood up too, hands out as if presenting the win. ''You have now.''

You looked down at the board, then at him, at the board again, then him. ''Sunghoon..''

He scoffed, crossing over to pat your head. ''Don't become a sap now. I know, I'm great.''

You threw a light smack at his chest. ''I was gonna say you're full of shit.''

He leaned down to your height, eyes watching yours. ''And love, don't forget love.''

You tackled him right then and there, knocking both of you back into the couch cushions.

lovliezᡣ𐭩: @chrrific @saemisic @heeaara @ltfirecracker @woniefication @lezleeferguson-120 @rikifever @chaeneu @jjennuine @callikari @yuuuraaa @wondoras

NETS: @k-films

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wonziz · 14 days ago

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hi. fuck ice. here is how you can help families affected by unlawful deportation

edit: and FUCK LAPD. here is how you can help bail out protestors who are in the trenches, facing mass arrests and putting their bodies on the line.

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wonziz · 14 days ago

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COMING HOME ✶ WHEN YOU CRY

𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗖────𝗂'𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎

【 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐒 】 𝑙’ enhypen x fem ! rea 7OO established relationship fluff comfort a tiny bit of angst 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 skinship, petnames ˊᯅˋ ｡｡ daily clicks

다니⠀⦂ this is for my @jiwuu ♡ summer started meaning i will post way more often hopefully >< ( last year summer flashbacks..)

LEE HEESEUNG

“baby… are you seriously crying right now?” heeseung whispers, half-laughing as he pulls you into his chest, the credits rolling while tears roll down your cheeks. “it’s just a movie,” he teases gently, thumb brushing under your eye, and you sniff, pouting harder. “shut up,” you mumble, hiding your face, but he just grins, tilting your chin up. he peppers soft kisses across your face—your forehead, your damp cheek, your knuckles. “still crying?” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “’cause i’ll keep kissing you till you forget the plot.” you breathe out a shaky laugh, heart fluttering despite yourself, and he kisses you again. “there she is,” he whispers smugly, tucking you under his chin. “my pretty girl.”

PARK JAY

“c’mere, baby,” jay murmurs, voice velvet-soft as he pulls you gently into his lap, arms looping around your waist like he’s scared you’ll disappear. your cheeks are warm and damp, but he doesn’t flinch—just presses a kiss to your temple and lets you curl into his chest, burying your face there while his fingers stroke your spine. he hums something soft under his breath. “don’t cry, sweetheart. you want me to get you that bag you were looking at last week? the pretty one with the bow?” he whispers against your temple. “i’ll buy you ten if it makes you smile again.” he cups your jaw so gently it almost makes you cry again. “i’ve got you, princess,” he says, thumb brushing away your tears.

SIM JAKE

“baby? wait—did i do something?” jake’s voice is frantic the second he sees your tears, eyes going wide like you just broke his entire heart. “did i say something? did i hurt you? please tell me, angel, i didn’t mean to—” you shake your head and hiccup, and he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours. “oh thank god,” he whispers, pulling you into his chest. “you wanna lie down? or ice cream? or that plushie you liked last week? i’ll buy you ten,” he rambles, “just say the word, angel. i’ll do anything. just don’t be sad.”

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon shows up at your door within minutes, breathless, cheeks flushed from the cold, holding a slightly crumpled bouquet like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. “i heard you were crying,” he mumbles, voice quiet as his eyes flicker over your tear-streaked face, “so i brought you these.” you don’t even speak—just fall into his arms, and he catches you instantly, hands on your waist. he presses a kiss to your hair, heart racing beneath your cheek. “it’s okay,” he whispers, not much else—just that. over and over. “it’s okay, baby. i’m here.” because even if he can’t always find the words, his love doesn’t need explaining. and tonight, that’s enough. he is enough.

KIM SUNOO

sunoo’s lips instantly pout when he sees your teary eyes. “oh no, no, don’t cry, angel,” he whispers, cupping your face with both hands so gently it makes you cry harder. “it breaks my heart when you’re sad,” he murmurs. “you’re too precious for tears, okay?” he guides you to sit on the couch and letting you curl up. his arms wrap around you snugly while he hums something soft, cheek resting against your head. “let me take care of you,” he coos, rubbing your back.

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon kneels in front of you without saying a word at first, his brows pulled together in quiet worry as he reaches up to gently tuck your hair behind your ear, fingers lingering a little just to hold your face. “hey, look at me, baby,” he says softly, thumb brushing under your eye to catch a tear before it falls. “what’s going on, hm?” his voice is so calm, it only makes your chest tighten more. “you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. just… let me be here, okay?” he pulls you into his arms, your face buried in his neck. i’ve got you. always.” “seeing you cry makes me want to fix the whole damn universe.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

"aww, baby," riki coos, brushing a thumb under your eye, catching the tear before it slips — and of course, the little shit’s smirking. "crying already? i didn't even do anything that mean." he pulls you into his lap anyway, arms wrapping snug around your waist. "should i kiss it better? maybe here—" he plants one on your jaw, "—or here—" a kiss on your nose. you grumble, hiding your face in his hoodie, but he’s relentless. “no hiding. i wanna see that pout. it’s cute.” you shove him, and he grins wide. “there’s that almost-smile. c’mon, baby, give me the real one. or i’ll really start being annoying.”

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wonziz · 15 days ago

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── 이희승 always you ; lee heeseung

pairing ₊⊹ idol!lee heeseung x idol!reader. reader is a member of le sserafim. mentioned of seventeen in the background. genre: fluff. THE NERVES WERE EATING at your stomach, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your Prada dress as the black SUV edged forward into the sea of screaming fans. Cameras were pointed in every direction, flashing at the immaculate image of idols arriving for the Prada x Chrome Hearts event. Chaewon peered over from her seat, lips twisted into a smirk. "You're going to ruin that dress if you keep fidgeting," she giggled as you looked back at the rearview mirror nervously again. You nibbled your lip and looked at your makeup, your bangs, the curve of your liner. "I'm just making sure I look fine, that's all," you mumbled. Chaewon squinted at you, amused. "Who are you trying to look good for?" she tilted her head coyly. "N-no one!" you reacted hastily, quickly and too stiffly. "Liar," she sung, nudging you with her elbow. "Is it... Yeonjun? Jay? Me?" You rolled your eyes. "Shut up—and no, it is not them." "Mmhm," she hummed, eyes sparkling. "I'll find out."

But your focus was already outside, watching the blur of fans and security and polished idols stepping out of luxury cars. You clutched the handle of the car door, your heart thudding like a bass drum inside your ribcage.

It wasn't just nerves. It was him.

Lee Heeseung.

You hadn't seen him in years. Not since high school. Back when he was just the dreamy senior who was good at basketball and unknowingly stole your heart with the kindest smile you have ever seen. He was good at everything—Math, English, Sports, and even making you think you were the only person in a room without even trying. You still remembered that day like it was tattooed into your memory.

"Woah, that's kinda insane..." he chuckled when he saw the giant red 0/100 scrawled across your test. He'd kneeled in front of you, still holding the basketball he'd come to retrieve, and somehow ended up spending the rest of the period trying to explain every question. His voice had been so patient, and his laugh—god, that laugh—was the exact moment you fell, hard.

But you never told him. You never had to. And now you were both idols. At the same company. Breathing the same rarefied air. He had debuted in 2020. You in 2022. So many things have changed—your status, your career, your world—but you still didn't know if he remembered you. The car door opened. Your stylist brushed your hair one more time, tilting your bangs just right and framing your face perfectly. You stepped out to the sound of fans cheering, the shine from your Chrome Hearts jewelry, the click of your Prada heels on the concrete, and the way your black dress hugged your body in all the right places. You gave a shy, awkward peace sign to the cameras; even though you were wearing an outfit that screamed confidence, you still felt shy. That's just what they knew you as: the reserved one with the bold fashion. And then you saw him. Heeseung.

He was a few meters away, surrounded by his group, but your eyes found him like the matching pieces of a puzzle. His cherry-dyed hair shimmered under the sunlight, pushed back to reveal his forehead. He wore a black blazer; it was slightly open and the slope of his chest peeked out beneath it. His smile—relaxed, radiant, effortless—was aimed at his fans, but it was enough to make your knees weak.

You turned away quickly, hoping the camera didn't catch the flush rushing to your cheeks.

You walked over to the barricade, fans calling your name, holding banners and gifts. You bent over a bit, reaching out for a smaller envelope that a younger fan had decorated by hand—when out of no where—CRASH. The metal barricade was shaking as it let out a loud screeching noise. The force of the crowd behind it was becoming too much, fans rushing forward in a frenzy. Your body was in shock as you involuntarily jerked backward, your heels was off balance.Before the security could act—before the others could step in, Heeseung was there. His hand was quick to move, gripping onto your arm, and yanking you back promptly. You almost tripped because your heel got stuck on the pavement, but successfully pulled you back with a good hold. Heeseung wrapped his arm protectively around your back, eyes wide and looking upon your face. "Are you okay?" he asked, voice low, tense. Your heart was racing. Not just because of the barricade. But because of him. He was so close. He still smelled the same. His cologne—a warm, soapy, skin-like smell. His hand was still on your waist, and his eyes weren't moving from yours. You blinked a few times, trying to catch your breath. "Y-Yeah," you whispered.

Heeseung let out a shaky breath of relief then looked down at the barricade being put back in place by the guards, then looked back at you. "Be careful next time." He murmured, softer now. "I can't have you getting hurt out here." Just like that—you were fifteen again, sitting on the bleachers, flustered over a math test, watched the boy you liked kneel down and save you from your own disaster. Only now... he wasn't just a crush. And you weren't just a kid anymore.

When your members—Chaewon, Yunjin, Kazuha—rushed over to see you, their faces racked with concern, you nodded and waved the whole moment away. "I'm fine," you said breathlessly, still jacked with adrenaline and simply trying to take a second to breathe. "Just... still a little shocked." "Those fans were crazy," Yunjin mumbled, resting a hand so softly on your back. "Are you sure you're okay?" You nodded again, practicing a weak smile. "Yeah. Just glad that nobody got hurt." Security finally got the crazy crowd to chill out, and thankfully the fans were being escorted out now that the red carpet section was over. As a group moved into the closed off event space, with climate control, and a sleek and polished look fit for fashion week, you let out a deep breath.

The chaos outside was replaced with glimmering lights, soft music, and displays of the newest Prada x Chrome Hearts collaboration. You found yourself slowly wandering from one collection display to another, letting the elegance of the pieces distract you.

Your eyes locked onto one thing: a sleek, silver Prada x Chrome Hearts necklace with intricate detailing and tiny cross pendants. It practically screamed your name. A stylist who noticed your fascination smiled and gestured for you to try it on.

"They are right—you can try it—go ahead," they urged gently. You hesitated only for a second before reaching for it. It was light-weight yet sturdy. You held it delicately as you turned toward the mirror, cautiously working the clasp behind your neck. All of a sudden, another hand glided over your skin, took the clasp from your fingers. You froze. "Here—let me." You caught your breath. You slowly turned, almost too slowly and there he was. Heeseung. In person, he was much taller than you remembered. His cherry-red hair flared at the ends, his black Prada blazer fitted like a glove. And there was the slightest smirk dancing on his lips as he stepped back, classic Heeseung satisfaction as his fingers grazed your neck for one second longer. "Thanks..." you mumbled, face burning as you turned to check out the necklace in the mirror instead of facing Heeseung. "Are you..." he spoke slowly, almost teasing, "...that girl that got a zero for a grade on her math test in middle school?" You quickly flicked your eyes up. "Huh?"

"I remember you—the junior always hanging around the bleachers. Always struggling to do the math equations," he chuckled softly. "I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure until just now." "Yep," you said, your lips twitching. "That was me." "No way you became an idol," he said, leaning slightly towards you, genuinely shocked. "I didn't think that was your deal." "And why is that?" "Because idols don't study math." You rolled your eyes and let out a breathy laugh. "Oh, shut up." His smile widened at that, and something in your response must have brought him more amusement than it should have. You gently unclasped the necklace and returned it to the staff, trying to calm your hammering heart, you needed to breathe. But Heeseung fell into step next to you as you walked toward another part of the exhibit. He kept the conversation moving, asking how debut life was treating you, which member was the loudest, if you still hated math (you did). He was as easygoing and smooth as ever. Meanwhile, you were struggling to keep from combusting internally, unsure if it was because of the lingering scent of his cologne or how naturally he carried the conversation.

You didn't even realize how much time passed until one of his members called him over.

"Heeseung! Come on, they're waiting for our clip." He looked back at you and gave you that soft, boyish wave. "Catch you later, math girl." You waved back, awkwardly. "Bye, basketball boy." He laughed. "You remembered that?" Of course you remembered. When he left, you returned to your group just in time to record your own stuff. But Yunjin wasn't going to let anything slide. "I knew it wasn't Yeonjun," she whispered, sliding up next to you as the cameras rolled. "So, that's who you were being all shy about in the car." You didn't say anything. Your silence spoke everything. "Oh my God. You're down bad," Eunchae teased.

The event concluded in a flurry of farewells and flashes from cameras. Days passed—and just as things seemed to calm down, the internet exploded.It started with a fan-taken video on Twitter: the moment the barricade fell. Instead of the chaos, fans pointed their attention at him—the way Heeseung pulled you back without hesitation, arm around you fully, and the moment both of your eyes locked for a split-second. "WAIT... is that Y/n from LE SSERAFIM??" "They look way too comfortable—what's going on??" "He pulled her like they're close CLOSE." "The way she looked at him... yeah something's up."

Then came the behind-the-scenes vlog drop. A tiny moment, barely a blip: Heeseung clasping a necklace around your neck. Nothing dramatic. Nothing scripted.

Zoomed in. Cropped. Slowed. Captioned: "WHO DOES THIS UNPROMPTED???"

Within hours, you were trending.

"Wasn't her ideal type older, flirty, a gamer, and played basketball???" "HELLO?? That's literally Lee Heeseung." "No because they both went to the same school??" "Bet they've probably have been close since then and just kept it secret." "All you jealous girlies have to relax, let them breathe 😭" "LE SSERAFIM x ENHYPEN collab WHEN. WE NEED IT."

Of course, the hate comments were there too. Jealous stans picking at your every little interaction. Some accused you of "using" the moment for clout. Others attacked Heeseung for "being too obvious." At the end of the day, it seemed like the majority were shipping you two HARD. Later that night, you decided to go on live on Weverse to check on your fans, but as soon as you opened the comment section that's when it came! "HEESEUNG 😭😭😭" "GIRL YOU DIDN'T TELL US Y'ALL WERE FRIENDS???" "NOT THE NECKLACE SCENE I CANNOT" "Say it now. Are y'all dating???" "Y'all knew each other back then huh 👀" You let out a shaky chuckle and looked at the chat, trying your hardest to hold your composure and look cool. "He was... my senior," you finally said, eyes flickering to the camera, lips tugging into a tight smile. "I didn't know him like that..."

The silence stretched on as you looked away from the comments that were racing by. The tips of your ears—traitorous pink—betrayed you as you maintained a straight face. You tucked your hair behind your ear glancing back at your screen. "You all are really reaching," you joked lightly, though your voice quivered just enough to out you. The chat exploded. "NAH SHE'S BLUSHING 😭😭😭" "SHE'S GONEEEE" "EAR CHECK?? YUP. RED." "They know each other more than she's letting on💀" "She's denying it like a k-drama female lead I can't 😭" You playfully hid your face in your sleeve and groaned. "Okay—next topic!" You laughed pushing to get the subject away from Heeseung. But it was too late. You ended the live a little while later, smiling softly and waving goodbye. "Goodnight, Fearnots. Be nice okay? Don't get carried away." But as soon as you ended the stream, your phone buzzed with a new message. heehee 🏀: "Didn't know I made your ears turn red."

You froze. Stared. And maybe smiled like a highschool girl in love.

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wonziz · 15 days ago

Text

enough

The world never seemed to move at the right pace for you.

Some days, it spun too fast—your mind racing, thoughts colliding like a hundred open tabs in a browser you couldn’t close. Other days, it slowed to a crashing halt, leaving you frozen, trapped in the heaviness of your thoughts.

Tonight was one of those nights.

You sat on the floor of your apartment, hugging your knees to your chest, eyes locked on the way your fingers curled against the fabric of your sweater. The room around you felt distant, like you weren’t there like everything was slipping through your fingers before you could process it.

Your brain was too loud. Too full. And yet, it was empty at the same time.

There was a tightness in your chest that you didn’t know how to name. Frustration? Exhaustion? Loneliness? Maybe all of it. Perhaps none of it.

You tried to get things done today—organize your schedule, clean up the clothes on your chair pile, and respond to texts. But you couldn’t. The moment you started, something inside you shut down. It was like you were watching yourself from the outside, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

And that made you feel useless.

You had always been too much for other people. Too distracted, hyper, emotional, sensitive, or stuck in your head. You always misread social cues and always got overwhelmed by sounds that no one else seemed to notice. Your reactions were either too big or too small, never the right amount.

And then there was Sunghoon—so put together, so calm. He never lost control the way you did. He didn’t fall apart over things that seemed so small yet felt so massive inside your head.

How could someone like him stay with someone like you?

A harsh sob tore from your throat before you could stop it, and the sound startled you. Your breath hitched, and suddenly, you were panicking.

You clawed at your arms, fingers digging into your sleeves, trying to ground yourself—to make your body feel something real instead of floating in this horrible, sinking space inside your mind.

Then, the door opened.

You barely registered Sunghoon’s voice at first. The world was blurry, buzzing, too much.

“Hey.” His voice was firm but quiet. “Look at me.”

You couldn’t.

He crouched before you, his sharp gaze scanning your trembling form. You knew you must’ve looked like a wreck—wide eyes, uneven breaths, fingers twitching like you couldn’t decide what to do with them.

His hands reached for yours, slowly, deliberately. You flinched, and for a second, he hesitated. But then, carefully, he took your hands in his, peeling them away from your sleeves.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, his grip calm and steady against your overheated skin. “Breathe with me.”

You gasped, shaking your head, because no, you weren’t okay. You were a disaster, a mess. You weren’t like him. You weren’t calm, weren’t composed. You were falling apart in front of him, and you hated it.

“I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” His voice didn’t waver. He didn’t let go. “Inhale. Now.”

You tried.

The first breath was ragged. The second was shallower. But by the third, you were no longer choking on air.

Sunghoon nodded slightly, his grip tightening for just a second before he pulled you toward him. It wasn’t graceful. He wasn’t the kind of person who gave soft, easy hugs. But he held you tight like he feared you would slip through his fingers.

And you clung to him.

His chin rested on your head, his arms a cage around you—protective, unwavering. He didn’t shush you, didn’t tell you to calm down. He just stayed.

Your body still trembled, but the panic wasn’t as sharp now. His weight and the way his slow, steady breathing anchored you were enough to keep you from slipping.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice hoarse. “I—I don’t mean to be like this. I don’t know how to fix it.”

He stiffened slightly, and when he spoke, his voice had a rare edge. “You don’t have to fix anything.”

You tried to pull away, but his arms tightened around you.

“Listen to me.” His voice was quiet, but it carried the kind of weight that left no room for argument. “You think you’re too much. That I’d get tired of you?”

You didn’t answer, but he felt the way your body tensed.

“Don’t ever think that again.”

You swallowed hard. “But I—”

“I chose you.” His words were deliberate, slow. “Every single day, I choose you. I don’t care if you get overwhelmed. I don’t care if you need help. I don’t care if you feel like a mess.”

His hand slid up to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair with surprising gentleness.

“You’re not a burden.” His voice softened, but his grip didn’t loosen. “You never will be.”

A choked sob escaped you, and this time, you didn’t fight it.

You pressed yourself into him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, letting his presence surround you. He smelled like fresh linen and something faintly cold—like winter air. Safe. Familiar.

The room was still too bright. Your thoughts were still a tangled mess. But here, in Sunghoon’s arms, you weren’t lost.

And maybe that was enough.

Later that night, the apartment was quiet. The earlier chaos had settled, leaving behind an emptiness that felt raw but manageable, like the first breath after a storm. You sat on the couch, curled into the corner with a blanket over your shoulders.

Sunghoon had been in the kitchen for a while, though you didn’t know what he was doing. You were too drained to care. Your head rested against the armrest, your thoughts sluggish and fragmented.

When he returned, he carried a mug of tea and a small plate of crackers. He set them down on the coffee table in front of you without a word.

“Eat,” he said, his tone calm but firm.

You didn’t argue. You were too tired to. Picking up a cracker, you nibbled at the edge, the bland taste grounding in its simplicity.

Sunghoon sat down beside you, his body stiff and formal as always. His arm rested on the back of the couch, close enough to offer support without crowding you. It was his way—quiet, restrained, but present.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. Something was lingering between you, unspoken but heavy.

Finally, you broke the quiet. “You don’t… you don’t have to keep doing this, you know.”

He turned his head toward you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “Doing what, baby?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely between you. “Putting up with me. I know I’m hard to deal with, Sunghoon. I know I’m not easy to love.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he would scold you. Instead, he reached out, his hand finding yours.

“Stop saying that,” he said quietly, but an intensity in his voice made your chest ache. “Stop acting like you’re some problem I need to solve. You’re not.”

You stared at him, your throat tight. “But I—”

“You’re not your disability, your ADHD and Autism do not define who you are,” he interrupted, his grip on your hand firm but not harsh. “I don’t care if you have bad days. I don’t care if you can’t focus, if you get overwhelmed, or if the world feels like too much sometimes. That’s just part of who you are. And I’m not here to fix you. I’m here because I love you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and unshakable.

Your heart clenched painfully. “How can you say that so easily?”

“It’s not easy,” he admitted. “But it’s true. And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”

Tears blurred your vision again, but you didn’t try to hold them back this time.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m scared that you’ll get tired of me one day. You’ll see how messy and broken I am and realize I’m not worth it.”

His expression softened in a rare way, his usual stoicism giving way to something deeper, something tender.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly, his free hand brushing a tear from your cheek. “You’re not broken. You’re just human.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch.

“And you’re worth it,” he continued, his voice steady. “Every single part of you. The messy parts, the loud parts, the quiet parts. All of it. I don’t need you to change, and I don’t need you to be perfect. I need you to let me stay.”

Your chest felt tight, but not in a bad way. It was overwhelming how his words broke through every wall you had built to protect yourself.

“Okay,” you whispered. “You can stay.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the kind that was so subtle you might have missed it if you didn’t know him so well.

“Good,” he said.

And then he pulled you into his arms again, his embrace stiff but unyielding. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t need to be. It was enough.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel like fighting alone. With Sunghoon’s arms around you, the storm inside your mind didn’t feel so impossible.

It wasn’t a solution. It wasn’t a cure. But it was love.

And that was more than enough.

requested by: @leilamaybelyla

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wonziz · 15 days ago

Text

only yours, too

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

The quiet hum of the washing machine filled the air, a soft background to the muffled sounds of rain outside. Your feet were swollen again, and the baby kicked every time you tried to lie down. You shifted on the couch, exhausted but smiling as Sunghoon returned from the kitchen, gently placing a warm compress on your belly.

“I think she’s going to be a dancer,” you joked breathlessly. Sunghoon chuckled, kissing your forehead.

But the laughter faded when you both heard a soft sniff from the hallway.

Sunghoon turned instinctively. In the dim light, there stood your four-year-old son, Sungwoo — a plushie dragging limply from his hand, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He looked so small in his footie pyjamas, lips trembling.

“Sungwoo?” Sunghoon moved quickly but carefully, kneeling in front of his son. “Buddy? What’s wrong?”

Sungwoo didn’t answer at first. He just pressed the stuffed bear tighter to his chest. His voice came out barely above a whisper, shaky and thick.

“Do you still love me?”

The words hit Sunghoon like a punch to the chest.

“What?” he breathed, eyes wide. He reached for Sungwoo’s tiny hands, holding them gently. “Of course I do. I love you so much, Sungwoo.”

“But you only talk about the baby now…” Sungwoo said, voice cracking. “You read her stories. You rub Mommy’s belly all the time. You said she’s gonna be beautiful.” His lip wobbled. “What if… what if you don’t want to be my daddy anymore?”

Sunghoon froze. Pain and guilt twisted in his stomach. This was his little boy. The same one who used to fall asleep on his chest every night, who made him wear dinosaur stickers to work once because he needed protection.

And now, that little boy was afraid.

Sunghoon scooped Sungwoo into his arms without another word, sitting on the carpet with him cradled against his chest. He rocked him slowly, pressing kisses to his hair.

“Sungwoo,” he murmured, voice thick. “You were the first baby ever to call me Dada. Do you know what that means to me?”

Sungwoo sniffled, shaking his head.

“It means you taught me how to love like this. You made me a dad. You made me want to be better. And I will always be yours, okay? Even when the baby comes, even when you’re big and tall and going to school — I’m still your daddy first. Forever.”

Sungwoo’s fingers curled in his shirt. “Even if I don’t like her yet?”

Sunghoon smiled, stroking his son’s hair. “Even then. You don’t have to like her yet. That’s okay. Feelings are confusing, huh?”

Sungwoo nodded.

“I get jealous sometimes, too,” Sunghoon whispered. “When you cuddle Mama and don’t let me in.”

Sungwoo giggled quietly.

“You’re allowed to feel upset, Sungwoo. But I’m here. I see you, I hear you, and I love you. Nothing is going to change that.”

“…Really?”

“Really. Want me to show you how much?”

Sungwoo tilted his head.

Sunghoon stood up, carrying him like he did when Sungwoo was just a baby. “Let’s build the biggest, strongest pillow fort in the living room. You and me. We’ll even bring snacks.”

“Even the gummy ones Mommy hides?”

“…Don’t tell her.”

Sungwoo finally laughed — that sweet, bubbly sound that always melted Sunghoon. He nodded, his arms wrapping tightly around his dad’s neck.

And for a while, in that pillow fort with flashlight stars and stolen snacks, Sunghoon reminded his son that love didn’t shrink when a family grew — it only made room for more.

But he’d always have a heart with Sungwoo’s name carved into it first.

requested by: @youngheejay

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wonziz · 18 days ago

Text

ni-ki bf headcannon!

【 ## 】 — PAIRING … 西村力 x fem!reader ⋆ fluff & angst ⋆ 1.5k // idol riki + showering together … ☕️ — enhypen masterlist ˖ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡��

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗ note. ofc rikivsco has to make a riki headcannon like it’s my brand!! comment “taglist” if u would like to be on taglist for any future enha works <3

01. has the worlds worst case of cuteness aggression

you would expect a little kiss attack or a few bites here and there kind of aggression right?? WRONG! when riki thinks you’re being cute he puts his entire POONANI into showing it

you show him a couple’s tiktok challenge you want to do with him? he’s grabbing your face and kissing your cheeks with all his might because.. omg he's your boyfriend and he can do cute couples challenges with you. you buy him something cause it reminded you of him? he’s picking you up and squeezing the life out of you. you simply talk about your day???? he’s stopping you midway and tackling you onto the couch. he just loves with his whole body what can he do ):

02. LOOOVES when you play with his hair

idk if anyone remembers that one live around enha’s debut of riki nudging jungwon’s hand to continue playing with his hair, but i fear that is burned into my head.

riki would be sitting on the floor playing fifa while you’re sitting on the couch above him. your hand would either be mindlessly carding through his hair, or playing with the ends while you listen to jungwon and sunoo talk about something that happened at work. jungwon happened to bring up the topic of weird coworkers, which obviously got you worked up because you HATE some of your coworkers.

you’re using one hand to emphasize your points while the other hand is ghosting over riki's head. and while jungwon and sunoo are like “YESS SAY IT LOUDERR” you feel riki push his head back onto your unmoving hand. you almost stopped talking to bite him or something (because u match his aggression freak), but you just continued your story about your ratty coworker while looking at the cute boy in front of you and playing with his hair

03. will willingly do any tiktok you want (force) him to do

he doesnt even act like he hates it when you ask, he just blindly follows whatever you tell him to do

the most recent one was the “ruby chan- HONKK” (this) trend and he LOOVED it. you just held the camera in his face while he was in bed next to and you can see him dying laughing everytime the sound happens

his favorite one that you did on him was the trend where you say “quick, act like i’m a random girl at the club!” and just grab his face and passionately kiss him. very much enjoyed playing pretend and doing everything wrong so he could keep touching you (you smacked him too many times to count)

can you guys tell i’m chronically online

04. lets you do your skin care/makeup routine on him

ends up looking so beautiful with your makeup on him like it lowkey pisses you off cause wtf is he doing looking that good with YOUR routine...... so rude...

05. does the boyfriend twitch in his sleep every single time you guys take a nap together but he ALWAYS denies it

06. brings you to practice sometimes and teaches you some choreography in his spare time

riki is such a good teacher he can make your questionable dancing ability look a bit more unquestionable. you love going there because it reminds you of how passionate he is about performance, and he loves when you’re there because your face is his fuel. positives of letting him teach you new choreo: a kiss for every part you remember, free food from hybe cafe, and basically a free date

07. always goes to you first when he’s struggling

being the youngest in the kpop scene at one point was one of the hardest things to handle for him- and the effects of that will of course leave an imprint. so when he gets off of his scheduled live that was filled with comments about a performance that he wasn’t too happy about, he came to your place as opposed to wallowing in his own. you, being the attentive partner you are, noticed his off mood immediately.

he usually wouldn’t prefer talking about it, so you learned to adhere to that and care for him in silence. when you step in the shower with him, he’s clinging on to you with his forehead resting on your shoulder.

“i hated the way the stage came out today.” you didn’t say anything, just reached up and played with his hair.

“i just think… since it was my fault, i shouldn’t cry about it. but sometimes…" you move impossibly closer.

“sometimes it gets to me. i want to cry about being twenty years old and already being in the scene for like... five years. i want to cry about missing my family. i want to cry about my childhood, but i did that to myself. why should i?”

and in these moments, you hold him as he lets his tears go, whisper everything he wants to hear- everything he needs to hear. riki can’t help but only express how he feels to you because he knows he’ll never feel stupid thinking the way he does. you are his home

08. refers to you as “my [insert petname] to his friends

it’s never something corny like “my baby” or “my sweet honey sugar muffin” (he calls you sugar muffin to piss you off in private though)

it’s always: “oh i can’t tonight, my lady wants to try the new thai place around the area.”

“my missus wants to go to the mall, but i can get lunch with you after.”

“my girl says hi by the way, better say it back.”

he never says it to your face or around you, which to you, makes it ten times cuter. his friends make fun of him by saying “hi missus” or “what does ‘his lady’ think?" when you're with them, and he does not care!!!

nonchalantly responds “until you guys find someone to call your 'lady’, leave my lady out of it.”

09. hates sharing his clothes unless it's you

lowkey a drabble on its own sorry i get carried away </3

that mans wardrobe is so effing expensive if i had the entire chrome hearts collection it would be sealed in a bulletproof glass case but i digress

you have watched your boyfriend get genuinely mad when he sees one of his members wearing any of his nice clothes-- rightfully so-- so you were never going to go through his closet anytime soon.

one winter day however, the ac in the dorms decided to stop working on the same day the first snow happened, leaving you absolutely freezing. when riki feels your shivering against him, he immediately moves towards his room with a small "hold on i know what'll make you warm, be right back."

when he comes back with his saint michael glory for eternity hoodie (500+ dollar hoodie btw this is a real hoodie he owns), you are pushing it away while your teeth are literally chattering.

"i know how you are about sharing your nice hoodies; there is no way in hell i'm wearing that while we eat fucking sushi." he literally stands and stares at you for like five seconds and then LAUGHS IN YOUR FACE

"babe, i don't like when anyone else wears my hoodies, but you're not anyone else," he says while he physically pulls the hoodie over your head with a grin. "i can't believe i have to tell my own girlfriend that i want her to wear my clothes..." and this dramatic ass is clutching his chest and falling on top of you after you pull your arms into the sleeves

"my bad for assuming the worst when i literally watched you chase heeseung with a bat for wearing your harley davidson jacket..."

10. favorite pastime = you + gaming

whether you’re actual shart at gaming (me asf) or an absolute demon, he would want to integrate you into one of his favorite ways to relieve his stress

if you’re bad, he always asks to teach you even when you’re hesitant because you WILL bring his score down. he pulls you onto his lap and reassures you that he doesn’t care about his stupid score (he does but that doesn’t matter). he would guide your hands onto the controller and gently put his larger hands over yours, teaching you all the basics and even playing a round in that position. if you earn points on your own? he’s yelling his signature “LET’S GOOO” as if he just won that point himself

if you’re good, he’s asking you to hop on a game every night after he comes back from practice. you can’t be on another team or just against him any way cause his competitive mindset would take over and he would demolish you… it’s for your own good ok he is not the same person you know and love when he’s playing….. would prefer you guys to be together so you can come up with strategies without having anyone else hear it (he also likes tackling you onto the bed after a win and kissing your face all over, but yeah… strategy….)

11. romanticizes everything but thinks you don't notice

he claims to be sooo nonchalant but his grocery list literally looks like this:

1. eggs (+ milk to make them fluffy like y/n likes it)

2. bread (with seeds in it that y/n claims to hate but she ends up eating all of them)

3. snacks (y/n's favorite, i trust you know that)

and you go on for so long not knowing he wrote things in his notes like that until you casually asked to go on his phone while he played games in front of you. he had so many different notes about you; reminders to get you gifts for upcoming life events, things that you mentioned in passing, huge paragraphs for you that he decided to write in the late hours of the night... and of course, that grocery list.

you couldn't stop yourself from approaching him and snaking your arms around his shoulders, kissing all over his cheek as he continues gaming with a confused smile on his face.

that night, you're sleeping in his chest (a little closer than usual) when he opens his phone to see his notes app already open, exposing almost all his love for you. he's not even embarrassed-- he just chuckled and closed his phone, kissing your forehead and drifting off into his own sleep with a little smitten smile on his face

a/n: i loooowk lost ideas towards the end so im sorry if this was ass </3 I HEART RIKI!!

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wonziz · 18 days ago

Text

ㅤㅤ + 1 NEW MESSAGE: 'CAUSE YOU BEEN SO OUT OF TOUCH!ㅤㅤ

ㅤalternatively, ghosting BF ! ENHA as a prank

ㅤ% crack ( 07 ) profanity Slightly sexual in hoon's 𝖭𝘈𝖵𝗂

[ 陰 ♡ ] : who's making them do all this. like leave that to the headcanon writers juseyo or you'll have us outta business soon smh I FORGOT THE PICS NO ONE TALK TO ME

𐙚 . regulars : @chrrific @jessxxxfwd @evanesceki @soobundle1009 @weedatthegasstattion @flipitkickit @douqhnxtss @soona-huh @amoressb @nicholasluvbot @manariee @rinrinninnin @ddeonuswife @douqhnxtss @lovenha7 @amatariki @i-am-not-dal @liyahhhh620 @elleetlalune @luvvchn @s0shroe @wensurr @unhakies @starniras @calabaeri @athenaisonlinee @weepingsweep @itsactuallylina ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

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wonziz · 18 days ago

Text

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐘𝐍‎𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄 ;; " 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 ! "

// 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ‘𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽’ 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 ✧

ㅤ( 𝟤𝟣𝟨𝟣 ) fluff, f!reader, established relationships, flirting, lots of offended boyfriends lol ── 𝖡𝖮𝖮𝖪𝖲𝖧𝖤𝖫𝖥 ｡⠀

✶ LEE HEESEUNG

it’s late, and you’re both sprawled out across heeseung’s bed, legs tangled somewhere in the sheets. the glow of your phone screen keeps casting soft shadows across his face. he’s got his arm resting loosely over your stomach, his thumb tracing thoughtless circles just above the hem of your shirt. the soft scent of detergent fills your senses, and you fight the urge to burrow your face into his skin.

heeseung’s half-awake. he scrolls with one hand, his lashes low and mouth parted slightly as you shift beside him and prop your phone up against a pillow. you hit record without ceremony, turning just enough to smile at the camera.

“just winding down with my current boyfriend,” you murmur, light and easy.

there’s a pause, in which he blinks a couple times and then turns his head toward you: eyes soft, expression unreadable, his thumb still idly moving against your side.

“…current?” he repeats, voice rough with sleep.

you hum. he holds your gaze for a long moment; not offended, not jealous, just faintly amused. then he lets out a breathy laugh, shifting to rest on one elbow. the blanket falls slightly off his shoulder.

“huh,” he says. “current’s a weird word for someone who keeps stealing my clothes.”

you grin at him. “they’re comfy.”

“mm.” he pauses like he’s considering something. “so is exclusivity.”

you laugh, nudging his shoulder, and he’s still watching you with a lazy, half-lidded look, the kind he gets when he’s on the edge of falling asleep and still doesn’t want to miss anything.

“you want me to say last boyfriend?” you ask.

he shrugs, but his fingers tap twice against your wrist, all soft and rhythmic. “you don’t have to.”

“but you’d like it.”

“...i’d like it,” he says, simple and sure.

your smile softens. heeseung shifts closer again, pressing a kiss just under your jaw before settling back into the pillow, his voice quiet as he adds:

“just in case you forget where home is.”

✶ PARK JONGSEONG

you’re leaning against the kitchen island while jay finishes plating up dinner, the sleeves of his button-down rolled up and gold ring glinting on his hand as he reaches for the pepper grinder.

your phone is already recording before he glances up, catching your eye.

“filming again?” he asks, amused.

“mhm,” you hum. “just getting a clip with my current boyfriend.”

he freezes. not just a little pause—a full on, blank stare. he doesn’t even blink.

you watch, holding back a laugh, as his expression flickers through at least five emotions.

then, very seriously: “you mean husband.”

“husband?” you laugh, incredulous. “you’re my current boyfriend.”

jay sets the pepper grinder down with surgical precision, walking over to you like a man on a mission.

“say it with me,” he starts, holding up one finger. “H.”

“jay—”

“U.”

you’re giggling now, but he’s persistent, stepping closer, one hand bracing on the counter beside your waist.

“come on. you wanna do this on camera? let’s do it right. say: husband. i’ll even do the dishes.”

you raise a brow. “just for that?”

he leans in, voice low against your ear. “also because i love you more than anyone on earth and your mom already likes me. but mostly the dishes.”

✶ SIM JAKE

it’s golden hour, the sky split open in orange and peach, and jake’s standing barefoot on the patio with one hand on his hip and the other brandishing a pair of tongs like a weapon. he’s got an apron on and his sleeves are pushed up just enough to show the veins on his forearm. the air is filled with the tantalizing scent of grilled meat and seasoning, a light breeze fluttering your hair.

you’re sitting on a cooler, filming him from behind your lemonade.

“just grilling with my current boyfriend,” you say casually, zooming in on the way he flips a burger. he glances over his shoulder, unblinking.

“yep,” jake says, cool as ever. “me and my girlfriend at the moment.”

you pause, and he flashes an innocent smile at the camera. “she’s on a trial run. depends on how these burgers turn out.”

“oh my god.”

“what?” he shrugs, teasing.

you try to act annoyed, but he’s already walking over with a plate of food, nudging your knee with his hip so you’ll make room for him. he sits beside you, setting a plate down in front of you. “you get the first one. for old time’s sake.”

you stare at him, unimpressed. “we’re still dating.”

“for now,” he says, ignoring his own words and biting into your burger.

“you’re insufferable.”

he wipes his mouth with a paper towel, grin crooked. “but still your boyfriend… currently.”

✶ PARK SUNGHOON

you’re both in the bathroom getting ready to go out. the mirror lights are on full blast, hair tools scattered across the counter, and the air smells like his cologne and your perfume layered on top of each other. he’s standing behind you in a crisp button-down, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve with impeccable focus.

you set your phone up on the edge of the sink, press record, and lean slightly into the frame with a small smile.

“filming a quick ootd with my current boyfriend,” you say casually, tilting the camera to catch both of you in the mirror.

you’re smiling. he’s not. his fingers pause on the second cuff, gaze flicking up to the mirror. not at the camera, not at you, just a slow, almost imperceptible blink like he’s just been personally wronged by god.

you try to stifle a laugh. “hoon?”

no answer. he inhales slowly through his nose, finishes the cuff, and then continues his routine like nothing happened. except now, he’s noticeably quieter and calmer, almost eerily composed.

“...what?” you prompt again, already giggling. “you’re not gonna say anything?”

he finally speaks, his voice polite: “you’re gonna want to run that back.”

you lose it.

cut to a second clip.

same mirror, same lighting. but this time, sunghoon’s standing closer, arms crossed loosely over his chest, one brow lifted at the camera. you hold the phone up properly now, barely containing your smile. “filming a quick ootd with my husband,” you say sweetly.

he nods once, solemnly. you turn the camera toward him. “anything you want to say?”

he looks directly into the lens, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.

“just that i accept your apology. and that i’ll be changing the dinner reservation name to mr. and mrs. park.”

✶ KIM SUNOO

you’re curled up together on the couch in your usual configuration: legs tangled under a shared blanket, your foot tucked beneath his thigh, his head propped up on a throw pillow that he fluffed to perfection before sitting down. the TV is playing something you’ve both already seen three times, which means sunoo is only half paying attention, scrolling his phone with idle little pouts at whatever he’s reading, his fingertips occasionally brushing yours like he just wants to make sure you’re still there.

he looks peaceful, relaxed, and completely unsuspecting. it’s perfect.

you smile to yourself and lean over slightly, propping your phone up against the base of a candle on the coffee table. you clear your throat just enough to get his attention.

“just relaxing with my current boyfriend!” you coo.

you don’t even get to blink before sunoo’s head snaps up so fast you swear you almost get second-hand whiplash. “current boyfriend?”

you nod. he lets out an indignant gasp so dramatic it startles the cat lounging on the arm of your couch.

“current?”

“yeah,” you say sweetly. “just for now.”

he yanks your phone from where it’s sitting and stares into the camera like he’s on a reality show. “for the record, i’d like to say i’m being emotionally manipulated.”

“sunoo—”

“no. no. because i have done nothing but love her. i let her wear my moisturizer. my laneige. the expensive one. i call her pretty every day.” he turns to you now, eyes wide with betrayal. “do you know how many people want to be me?”

you’re laughing so hard you nearly fall off the couch. he reluctantly lets you pull him back, though not before delivering one final glance at the phone and whispering:

“delete it. or caption it current boyfriend who deserves better.”

✶ YANG JUNGWON

your room is quiet except for the soft shuffle of notebook pages and the occasional scratch of your highlighter dragging across text. the two of you are camped out on the floor, your legs draped over his as he leans back on one hand, casually quizzing you on terms you definitely should’ve memorized three days ago.

he’s halfway through peeling the corner of a granola bar wrapper when you set your phone on the edge of your nightstand, screen angled just barely toward the two of you. it’s subtle. he clocks it, but doesn’t say anything. you click record.

“study night with my current boyfriend,” you announce softly, eyes still on your notes.

jungwon doesn’t miss a beat. he finishes unwrapping the granola bar, breaks it in half, and offers you the bigger piece without looking up.

“hmm,” he hums. “temporary. that’s new.”

you glance at him. he’s still reading over your notes, impassive, like you didn’t just call him disposable to the internet.

“nothing to say about that?” you tease, poking at his knee with your foot.

he finally looks up, entirely unaffected, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly.

“should i be worried?” he asks, tone light, eyes sharp. “is this the part where you trade me in for someone who doesn’t double check your citations?”

you laugh, but he’s already pulling a highlighter from the pile and uncapping it for you.

“no, really,” he continues, gesturing toward your notes. “write that down. that’s good. current boyfriend. sounds professional. clinical. a little sterile, but i’m sure devon will love it.”

“who the hell is devon?”

“your next boyfriend,” he replies easily. “hopefully he likes sour gummies. i just trained you out of the orange ones.”

you’re already losing it, giggling into your sleeve, and he just shakes his head, flipping back to your vocab list like this is all part of a recurring bit he’s well-versed in.

“let me know if he needs my login for the quizlet,” he adds absently. “seems rude to leave him hanging.”

you reach for his arm, pulling him toward you with a laugh, and he lets you, leaning in close with that same unbothered grin.

“mm,” he murmurs, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “current boyfriend, huh?”

you grin at him. “maybe.”

he leans in, tapping his pen lightly against your forehead.

“then i guess i better make you fall in love with me again tonight.”

✶ NISHIMURA RIKI

he’s deep into a match when you come in, his legs folded pretzel-style in his desk chair, controller balanced loosely between his hands. he’s got his headset pushed down around his neck so you can hear both the game audio and his occasional muttered commentary. the screen casts a glow across his face, all cool blues and blinking reds, but he still looks impossibly pretty like this. focused, relaxed, and completely in his element.

you snake your arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing your cheek to the side of his head. he doesn’t startle, just shifts slightly to let you in closer before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, tapping something on the controller with the practiced ease of someone who could do this with his eyes closed.

“say hi,” you whisper near his ear, already angling your phone to catch both of you in the shot. “this is my current boyfriend.”

he glances at the screen, grinning without missing a beat. “yo.”

you snort, turning to look at him. he catches your movement in the corner of his eye.

“what? you think you’re slick?”

you hum innocently. he turns his head a little more now, squinting at you. “fine. run that back. say final.”

you laugh, already shaking your head. “final?”

“i’m not getting replaced,” he murmurs, mock-offended.

you try to answer, but the laughter bubbles up too fast to stop. he clicks something on his controller, dies instantly in-game, and turns to face you immediately. he points a finger at your phone camera, which is still recording.

“hey. first and final.”

you laugh. “riki—”

“no, no. it’s fine.” he leans back dramatically, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “i’ll just reinvent myself real quick. learn french or something. start doing pilates. maybe become emotionally unavailable and change my name to something mysterious like... lucien.”

you snort, forehead pressing into the curve of his shoulder. “you already dye your hair every six weeks. you don’t need to be more mysterious.”

“exactly,” he says, with the kind of confident shrug that suggests this was his point all along. “i’m the final boyfriend. nobody’s falling for your little prank.”

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wonziz · 22 days ago

Text

—박성훈 FALLING INTO TROUBLE (OR LOVE)

PARK SUNGHOON X READER

note: idol!sunghoon x idol!reader. reader was slightly traumatized by ice skating. pure fluff. word count: 3501

"ARE YOU SHAKING from the cold or from fear that you are going to die on ice?" Sunghoon asked, mild amusement in his voice as he looked over at you.

"Both," you grumbled, pulling your coat closer around your body. The live broadcast had already started, and you both stood outside the rink, snow lightly falling. You had an idol smile plastered on your face; but your insides were screaming. The only thing you had to do was survive.

After getting your skates and walking over the benches, you looked down at them like they were an unknown cursed object. You fiddled with them trying to loosen them, tighten them, basically just anything—to no avail. They might as well have been alien technology.

"You don't know how to put them on do you?" Sunghoon asked, already kneeling in front of you.

"Is it that obvious?"

He chuckled lightly and extended his hand out to you, "Let me."

Unsure, you lifted your foot slightly. He grabbed your sock-covered foot with both hands, heat radiating from his palms, and slowly guided your foot into the skate.

He didn't say anything the whole time, but you definitely felt your cheeks heat up as he laced the skate up with his expert fingers before moving on to the next one.

"There," he said as he tied the knot perfectly before putting his hands into the pocket of his coat. "Put these on too," he added as he passed you a pair of gloves.

You blinked. "What about you?"

"I have my own," he smiled, pulling his gloves from his coat. You nodded, putting one on just as your throat began to feel dry.

After a nervous wave to one of the managers nearby, you mimed water with a sense of urgency.

Sunghoon noticed and chuckled softly to himself as you worked to maintain your composure in front of the cameras. He looked so soft toward you, as if it wasn't embarrassing at all for you—like it was actually cute.

The cameraman, moving easily on the ice as if it was a second language to him, pulled back to catch a wide shot of you entering the rink together. You clung to Sunghoon's arm, almost shivering in anticipation as your blade hit the ice for the first time.

And then—disaster.

You lost your balance completely, giving a startled squeak as your foot slipped out from underneath you. Just as you were set to hit the ground, Sunghoon gripped you by the waist tightly and steadied you with the same calm grace that caused his fans to call him the "Ice Prince."

"I got you," he murmured, looking slightly amused but mostly concerned.

Your hands flew to the railings, holding onto them like they were the last thing keeping you alive. "No," you mumbled, eyes wide, breath puffing in the cold. "No, I really can't do this..."

Your voice was small, lips trembling—not from the cold, but from fear. Sunghoon paused, his hand still hovering near your back as he studied your expression.

He could tell.

You really couldn't skate for shit.

The livestream comments began pouring in already:

"Sunghoon save her!!"

"Not our bunny baby clinging for life—"

"ICE PRINCE AND OUR RABBIT, I'M CRYING"

"Their dynamic is so real—baby chick teaching baby bunny to skate—"

"Just... move with me slowly," he said gently, reaching for your hands. You tried. Really, you did. But your legs were wobbling like jelly and you were nearly about to collapse again.

"Sunghoon—!"

"I got you." He caught you before your butt hit the ice, arms wrapping securely around your waist to stabilize you again. But even then, your skates kept sliding, making you tip forward. His hand went straight to your back, his other arm wrapping fully around you as he held you upright. You were pressed lightly against him now, your face heating up despite the freezing cold.

"Sorry, sorry," you whispered, breathless, trying not to look directly at him because, well—this close, his features were way too flawless. Snowflakes rested on his lashes. His breath was steady. You, however, were about to pass out from embarrassment.

"You're okay," he said softly, not letting go yet. "You're doing better than you think."

Another flood of comments hit:

"THEY'RE GONNA MAKE ME BELIEVE IN LOVE"

"That soft 'you're okay' just punched me in the heart"

"Okay but WHY does this feel like a drama?"

After what felt like a dramatic rescue, Sunghoon slowly skated back a little, giving you space to try for yourself as he explained how to move your feet. "Okay, just put your weight on one foot—no like that—yeah, a little more, and with your knees bent not locked."

You nodded, biting your lip and concentrating. One hand still on the rail, you went through his step-by-step instructions one-by-one. For a second, it actually looked like it was working. Your skates glided an inch, then another. You were doing it. You were actually—

Thunk.

You were on the ice with a small yelp, just as Sunghoon turned to take a brief glance back at the counter, eyes scanning for something—anything—to help you.

Out of the corners of his eyes, he caught sight of a little push-assist skating aid, which was pastel blue rabbit shaped with handles—had been made precisely for little kids or... well, for adorably helpless idols like you. He turned to the rink staff at the counter. "Can we go ahead and borrow that one? The rabbit?" he asked, and politely nodded to it.

Then he turned back—only to turn back to you, who was still all to definitely on the floor, and you struggled like a helpless baby rabbit trying to get up, arms flailing as your skates kept slipping underneath you. Your group's mascot nickname really wasn't helping the image.

"Oh my god," you whispered under your breath, trying to plant one foot down, only to have it slide away again. "Please, end me now."

Sunghoon suppressed a laugh, skating over quickly to knelt in front of you, his hands gently finding your arms. "Don't move too much, you'll just slide again. Just let me help."

You looked up at him, wide-eyed and fully embarrassed. "I swear, I was doing okay for two seconds..."

"I know," he smirked, the soft, quiet one that made fans melt. "You were doing great. You just... weren't built for ice."

The chat exploded:

"THE RABBIT FOR THE RABBIT—"

"HE GOT HER A RABBIT RIDER THING???"

"I'm sobbing why is this so cute"

"GETTING HER A KID'S PUSH THING THAT IS SO SUNGHOON"

Then, after what felt like forever, the rink staff brought over the rabbit-shaped skating aid. Taking extra care with you, Sunghoon helped you sit on it, holding your hands like you were glass, and making sure your balance was right before he gripped the back of the little rabbit and pushed you forward gently.

"Okay," he said, eagerly grinning. "Now you’re skating."

"Sunghoon," you said deadpan, arms wrapped around the ears of the bunny, "this is a child's thing."

"And yet, you're not falling," he teased, pushing you along slowly like you were on a royal sled.

You buried your face in your gloves, groaning in mock defeat as the viewers spammed:

"I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE"

"PRINCE SUNGHOON AND HIS RABBIT PRINCESS"

"This is literally healing content. I feel reborn."

"He's so gentle with her I'm gonna cry."

As you continued laughing, your gloved hands tightening around the bunny's ears, Sunghoon abruptly stopped near the center of the rink. "Okay," he said with a smirk, stepping around you, "you sit here—I'm gonna flex now."

"Huh?" You blinked.

He adjusted his sleeves, the wind catching his coat slightly. "You've never seen me skate properly, right? You should at least know you're in good hands."

With that, he skated backwards, slowly building up momentum, before ringing off a nice, clean, spin that had everyone aghast, your mouth agape. He followed with an elegant glide, then a jump—not diagonally across the rink like a competition move, but clearly showing everyone he still had it. Everything he did was free and easy and elegant and confident.

And the live chat exploded:

"ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THIS???"

"EX-FIGURE SKATER MY ASS, HE STILL GOT IT"

"Look at our prince show off for his princess!!!"

You were clapping in your seat on the bunny, laughing in shock. "Okay okay, fine, that was cool!"

He skated back over to you with that shy little smile, now a little breathless, running a hand through his hair. "I told you."

"You didn't have to make it look so easy," you teased, nudging him lightly with your glove.

Leaning in slightly, voice low just for you, he said, "I'll teach you someday... properly. No cameras."

Your heart was thudding, warmth blossoming in your chest that had nothing to do with the multiple layers of clothing you wore.

"Deal," you whispered, just as the camera zoomed out capturing your smile and the way Sunghoon looked at you like you were the cutest thing he had ever seen.

After Sunghoon completed his little stunt, he skated back to you, took both of your hands and said," okay, you got this. No railings this time." While looking directly into your eyes, there was a soft gentleness in his gaze that made your heart skipped a beat.

"Nope. I don't. I do not got this," you muttered as panic coursed through your body trying to started to grow and your skates wobbled underneath you. you grasped his hands tightly, your eyes wide.

"You're fine," he chuckled softly, and then pulled you just a little. "trust me."

But your knees buckled practically instantaneously and before you knew it, just before you could nosedive and faceplant onto the ice, his arms were around you—tight and assured. You gasped as you felt your feet lift off the ice, letting out a small yelp of panic as he laughed. "S-Sunghoon! Put me down, seriously—!"

He laughed, effortlessly lifting you in a bridal carries while gliding across the rink like it was nothing. "you were about dive off, I had to save you."

You buried your face in his scarf as you couldn’t stop giggling. "I'm going to pass out, like literally I'm about to pass out. I can't be this high above the ice again."

"Okay, okay, "he grinned and slowed down and gently lowered you down back onto the rink, but kept one hand on your waist to steady you. You clung to him like your life depended on it.

The live chat exploded once again:

"THE WAY HE PICKED HER UP???"

"That was NOT in the script and you cannot convince me otherwise."

"me and who."

Once you both stepped away from the rink, and back into your normal shoes, your hands were still shaking a little but mostly from the cold. Snow had started falling again, landing in your hair and sprinkling Sunghoon's lashes. You both strolled to the food booths, following the scent of tteokbokki and roasted sweet potatoes.

He bought you a hot drink and handed it to you without saying much, just giving you that soft look he always had. You took a sip, blowing into the cup as you looked over at him. His coat was dusted in white, cheeks flushed red, and his hair sparkled with melting snowflakes. You almost forgot how shy he actually was.

You weren't much different. It took everything in you not to shrink under the stares—even though there weren't many people around, the live was still rolling, and comments weren't slowing down.

"Introverts IRL falling for each other omg."

"I have never seen either of them so comfortable with anyone."

"Even Sunghoon doesn't normally do fanservice like this. I'm suspicious."

You chuckled softly at the last one, showing him the comment on your phone. He looked at it and smiled, then looked away, taking a sip of his drink. "They're not wrong," he said, almost too faint for the mic to capture.

That silence between you had this familial comfort to it. Safe. The kind of silence that you didn't have to fill with anything weird. It wasn't about being funny or charming, just you and him.

Just warming up with food, cheeks red from the cold and adrenaline, stealing shy little glances while watching each other in case there was something to say that neither one of you knew how to say yet.

The manager motioned from the side, gesturing for you and Sunghoon to keep walking down the path of snowy vendors. "They want you two to explore more. Maybe show the viewers some cute snacks or souvenirs," he said, voice just barely caught on the mic.

Sunghoon gave a small nod, brushing his fingers against his own sleeve to dust the snow off. "Let's check out the game booths," he suggested softly, glancing at you.

You looked up from your drink, blowing into it to keep your hands warm. "Are we even allowed to play in these shoes?" you whispered, pointing down at your boots with a chuckle.

"We'll risk it," he grinned faintly, and the camera caught the way he tilted his head just a little to look at you longer. You tried not to visibly melt.

As you wandered past food stalls filled with warm food and noisy lights, you stumbled upon a small vendor with plushies hanging from the ceiling won from a ring toss game. One caught your attention—a sky blue dolphin with sparkly eyes and little mittens.

"Oh my god," you mumbled as you slowed down. "That's so cute."

Sunghoon noticed where you were looking and chuckled. "That one?"

You nodded, then turned to the camera like a child at a fair. "I want it."

The live chat went wild:

"Get it for her Sunghoon, don't play."

"He better win that dolphin or I'm rioting."

"They're literally in a drama. I'm the camera."

The vendor smiled at you both and handed Sunghoon three rings. "Good luck," they said, but you could tell they knew who he was without saying anything. It was nice. Gentle.

You stood next to him, nervously clasping your hands in front of you. "Are you good at this?" you asked.

"I used to be..." he muttered, lining up his first toss seriously. He missed.

You giggled. "Used to?"

"Don't distract me," he said, playfully eyeing you from the corner of his eye. The second ring landed—barely—and the third one missed again.

"That's one ring! That counts!" you grinned.

The vendor nodded. "That's enough for a small plush."

Sunghoon turned to you, gesturing toward the dolphin. "That one?"

You lit up, nodding quickly. "Please."

When he handed it over, you clutched it to your chest like it was the most important thing in the world. "I'll name him Icey."

He blinked, then laughed—a real one. "Icey?"

"Ice prince, Icey," you teased with a grin, nudging him with your elbow. "He's part of the lore now."

"ICEY. STOP I CANT DO THIS."

"She made a nickname out of his nickname I'm gonna scream."

"No fr they're flirting. This is flirting."

You kept strolling together, you hugging the dolphin to your chest and Sunghoon occasionally glancing at you, his expression just barely softening each time. The snowflakes continued to fall, settling in your hair again—and once, he quietly reached over to brush one off your sleeve without a word.

It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. But it felt like something quietly blooming in the middle of winter.

The van door made a soft thud as it shut behind you as you buckled in, the live continuing to roll. You picked quietly at the warm waffle you had purchased earlier, your eyes trained on the screen reading the fan comments streaming in like a waterfall.

"Thank you for watching," you said, a small smile on your lips, almost a crumb at the corner of your mouth. "I'm glad you guys liked today's-"

Without a word, Sunghoon leaned slightly over and meticulously brushed his fingers against the left side of your mouth. He flicked away the crumb without any fanfare and leaned back into his seat.

Your mouth hung open in surprise, unsure if you should say something and be an annoying girl, but you had also not stopped him either. Instantly, your ears warmed with a soft blush, trying your best to go unnoticed like this was all normal. The plush dolphin sat between you both like an approved chaperone on a very expensive date inside an even more expensive van.

The cameraman let out a gentle laugh before turning off the live.

"HE WIPED THE CRUMB SOMEONE HOLD ME."

"I'M SCREAMING, MY PARENTS ARE HOME PLEASE."

"The way she just let him??? Oh this is real."

When the van pulled up to your dorm, you held the plushie close to your chest as you stepped out, waving goodbye to Sunghoon. "Text me when you get back," you said softly.

He nodded, gaze lingering for a second too long. "Don't fall asleep before replying."

You turned around quickly so he wouldn't see your red ears again.

The moment you stepped into the dorm, your members pounced.

When you walked into the dorm, your members jumped on you immediately.

"Is that the dolphin?!"

"Why were you BLUSHING like that?!"

"Oh my god, he wiped your mouth? Are you dating?!"

You gasped, embarrassed, and held Icey even closer to your chest as you said in a small voice, "You're all so loud!" while bolting to your room.

Halfway across the city, Sunghoon came into his dorm to absolute chaos.

"Hyung."

"Explain yourself."

"Wiping her face?"

"Giving her the plush?"

"He gave it to her because he won it for her. He was gentle."

He just shook his head and walked straight to his room. All he mumbled was "it was live."

But then a week later, you were on another live again—this time just a casual hangout with your group. The living room was a disaster zone of snacks and laughter, with board games everywhere on the floor. You, the maknae, were lounging on the couch in a pair of soft Hello Kitty pajamas, a plushie in your lap, and a star pimple patch stuck to your cheek.

No makeup, just plain skin, and just being you. It was everything the fans wanted.

"HER PJS I'M GONNA CRY."

"she's wearing no makeup and still pretty, I wanna be like her when I grow up."

"She is like... real real."

While your members were bickering over UNO cards, you were half paying attention to your phone, your thumbs tapping away quickly. Every once in a while though, you would stifle a small smile as you replied to a message.

"Yah," your older member said from behind you and peered over your screen with interest.. "You're texting him, aren't you?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "What-"

She gasped dramatically, "It is him!"

The chat lost it:

"WHO IS HIM???"

"IS IT ICE PRINCE"

"WHAT IF SHE'S TEXTING SUNGHOON RN."

"SOMEONE HACK HER PHONE."

You covered your face with the plushie, groaning. "You guys are the worst."

And the plushie? Still there sitting on your lap like a silent witness to your entire soft, slow-burn chaos, loved every moment of it.

You finally put your phone down, your cheeks still warm, and walked back to the table where your members were halfway through a chaotic game of UNO. You slid in between two of them and set the plush dolphin with your deck as if it was now an honorary member of the group.

"Okay, next round!"

"Maknae, no mercy this time."

"Give me all your Draw Fours."

Laughter bubbled up as the game began, only for the chaos to shift into a casual game of Would You Rather halfway through. Fans were still watching the live, loving how comfortable and low-key everything felt.

Meanwhile...

In another dorm, Sunghoon sat at his desk with his laptop open, watching the live with one hand lazily propping up his chin. His expression was unreadable, but the smallest smile tugged at the corner of his lips every time your voice came through. His fingers tapped idly on his phone, clearly in your messages.

The camera caught you biting your lip, squinting at your cards.

"Would you rather kiss someone right after they eat garlic or text your crush right now and tell them you like them?"

You rolled your eyes and groaned, "Do I have to pick?"

The girls shrieked. The fans blew up. Sunghoon froze.

"...You're playing with fire," he muttered under his breath.

Then—

THUMP.

The door to his room swung wide open and slammed against the wall.

"Hyung! What are you—" Ni-ki's voice trailed off abruptly, mid-sentence, when he noticed the obviously live feed happening on Sunghoon's screen.

Sunghoon panicked. "I-I was just checking in-I-" He slammed the laptop shut so suddenly it snapped. "Privacy?! Ever hear of it!?"

Ni-ki raised a brow, a suspicious smirk forming on his face. "You were watching her, weren't you?"

"No," Sunghoon terribly lied.

"You're blushing."

"Shut up, close the door."

"Would you rather kiss someone or text your crush," Ni-ki teased before he backed out. "Y/N's probably waiting for your text."

"Close the damn door, NISHIMURA."

And somewhere across the city, your group had just dared you to answer the next spicy "Would You Rather" question, and you looked down at your phone again—only to see:

[1 New Message]

From: Park Sunghoon

ice prince : just so you know... i'd rather text mine.

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wonziz · 22 days ago

Text

I have to say, ENHYPEN and SEVENTEEN fic writers are the best writers cause like tf are you shattering my soul w a sentence??

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wonziz · 22 days ago

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girl dad diaries: tangles, tutus, and tea

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

Saturday mornings were usually chill for Ni-ki and Heeseung—until the Pilates pact.

With both their wives off to a double session that morning, the house was officially declared a Girl Dad Zone. And it was pure, sparkly chaos.

“Okay, Rioka, I got this,” Ni-ki said, confidently holding up a tiny elastic hair tie like a medal of honour.

Rioka, seated on a pillow throne and dressed in her sparkly unicorn pyjamas, side-eyed him through her soft fringe. “That’s for the ends, not the top,” she stated matter-of-factly, clutching her stuffed giraffe.

Next to them, in a matching pink bathrobe and bunny slippers, Hwanhee giggled as Heeseung attempted a high ponytail—only to end up with a slightly off-center pineapple situation.

“This looks kinda cool, though, right?” Heeseung offered, gently showing Hwanhee her reflection in the mirror.

Hwanhee blinked. Then grinned. “It’s bouncy!”

“Exactly,” Heeseung said, declaring moral victory in the silent dad wars.

Meanwhile, Ni-ki had abandoned any hopes of symmetry and decided on two loose braids for Rioka instead. She beamed at him when he tied a crooked ribbon at the bottom.

“I’m a princess!” she declared.

“You’re my princess,” Ni-ki replied, lifting and twirling her dramatically. Her delighted laughter echoed through the living room.

Heeseung, now crouching next to a pile of tiny dresses and glittery tutus, looked up. “Should we let them choose outfits?”

“You say that like they haven’t already,” Ni-ki chuckled, pointing to the outfits their daughters had already picked out and laid carefully across the couch like runway selections.

Rioka insisted on a lavender tulle dress with silver stars, while Hwanhee chose a yellow sundress with a giant pink bow on the back. Accessories were non-negotiable.

Fifteen minutes later, two tiny fashion icons strutted across the hallway like it was Paris Fashion Week.

“Slay,” Ni-ki whispered to Heeseung, who solemnly nodded.

Then came Tea Time.

The kitchen table had been transformed into a miniature palace: plastic teacups filled with apple juice, cookies on flower-shaped napkins, and stuffed animals in every seat.

“Sir Giraffington needs sugar in his tea,” Rioka explained solemnly.

“And Miss Bunbun only drinks hers with honey,” Hwanhee added.

Ni-ki delicately poured the juice into the tiniest cup he had ever held, pinky out, eyes serious. “To friendship and sparkles.”

“To glitter, always,” Heeseung replied, clinking his plastic cup with hers.

Later, the living room was a sea of pillows, dolls, and tiaras. With juice finished and tiaras slightly askew, the girls curled up under fuzzy blankets for Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper.

Ni-ki didn’t know when exactly he got emotionally invested, but there he was, clutching Rioka like a teddy bear and mouthing along to “I’m Just Like You.”

Heeseung wiped an eye with one arm around Hwanhee and the other cradling a half-eaten cookie. “This part gets me every time.”

By the time the credits rolled, both girls were asleep—Rioka on Ni-ki’s lap, Hwanhee draped over Heeseung like a sleepy cat.

The front door clicked open.

“Guess who's back?” their wives called out.

“Shhh,” Ni-ki whispered dramatically, pointing at the snuggled duo.

Heeseung smiled down at the girls. “Best. Morning. Ever.”

requested by: @jkmilkshake

my perm taglist<3 <- request here

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