xoami

[xoami]

LIMERENT, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 sick and in love

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, you and your stalker have a special bond. PAIRING. stalker!sunghoon x lovesick!reader GENRE. fluff, angst, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, mdni

authors note ୨୧ This comeback has my creativity on 10. I spiraled and wrote several chapters to this prompt. I may release them depending on how this goes.

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You met your stalker on a gloomy Wednesday. Well, that’s not exactly true…

You caught him.

It was raining that night, hard, cold drops hammering the pavement like they had a score to settle.

You’d just locked up the café, slipping your keys into your coat pocket when you glanced across the street—and there he was…

His tall, lean figure half-shadowed under the flickering orange glow of a busted streetlamp, camera pressed to his chest like a confession. Dark hair, damp and messy. Lips parted like he forgot how to breathe when you noticed him.

His tired eyes were blown wide under wet lashes…

You didn’t scream, You didn’t run.

You tilted your head, lifted your hand to wave, and he disappeared.

Sunghoon… Park Sunghoon.

That was his name.

You found it scrawled on the inside of a brand new book, ´The Fall of the House of Usher’ that appeared on your porch days later—delicate cursive, slanted and careful, and in pretty red ink.

You pressed your fingers to it, lips curling.

The book smelled like cologne—woodsy, clean, cold. Like cedar, mint, and winter.

Later you learned that Sunghoon always smelled like winter.

⸻

You’re not exactly normal either.

No one really talks to you much… not since you stopped trying.

You like your space, your routines.

Your tea cabinet is alphabetized, your bed is always made, except when he comes.

You talk to stray cats more than you do to people. They meow at the windows at sunset, and you always let them in.

So, maybe it wasn’t that strange to you when the gifts started…

Roses, dark red and wilting at the edges.

A little box with a dainty, golden locket.

A velvet ribbon tied around a cassette tape with no label… classical music.

An envelope of photos—grainy, warm, quiet. Some of you at the market, some of you brushing your hair in the mirror, some of you flat on your stomach in bed, dipping strawberries in melted chocolate.

You should’ve been scared, but you weren’t.

You felt closer to something…someone?...

You felt admired.

You felt pretty.

⸻

Days…

Weeks…

Months…

Time passed, slow as molasses.

Patterns continued, and eventually your stalker became less and less… out of reach. He never started to feel less like a ghost however.

Park Sunghoon.

You remember the first time you heard heavy footsteps in the halls, you were quick to type away on your phone.

You: Is that you?

Your phone had buzzed not even a moment later. One message:

Unknown: ;)

Soon, it became routine.

He’d crawl through your window, always at odd hours of the night.

Most of the time, you were already half asleep, your cheek mashed against the pillow, fingers twitching toward dreamland…

But you’d stir at the faint creak of the floorboards, the subtle shift of air, the familiar cold scent curling into your room like fog.

Then the bed would dip behind you, and arms would wrap around your waist. Strong, still trembling slightly.

You’d smile even in slumber.

Sunghoon’s fingers were always ice cold, and he’d tuck them beneath your night dress, pressing into the bare warmth of your stomach like he needed to feel it.

You’d wiggle your hips against him just to tease, and he’d choke on a quiet sound, pulling you closer. You liked the way he shook.

You liked that you made him shake.

⸻

He doesn’t speak much.

When he does, it’s breathy… flat but thick with meaning. His words don’t land—they linger.

“I’d never hurt you,” he whispered once, his mouth brushing the curve of your neck as he held you on the fire escape.

“I’d kill for you, though.”

You think he already has.

You never asked why there was blood smudged on his cheeks, or dried under his fingernails some nights…

Never asked why or whose it was.

You never asked why his hands tremble when you kiss over fresh bruises.

You just guide him to the bed, giggling as he sits stiff as stone on the edge, waiting for you climbed into his lap. You trace the veins down his neck, pressed your lips to the chiseled line of his jaw, and felt the tension coil in his spine.

He never moved first.

You always had to pull his hands from his sides, coax them to your hips, your thighs, your ribs…

Like he was scared he’d burn you.

You wanted to burn.

⸻

He writes you love letters…

Little scraps of obsession.

‘Hello Angel,

Your lips have been haunting me… your smile too. I saw you laugh at a joke from your co-worker today. The cashier. It made me want to scratch his eyes out. Anyhow, you looked beautiful… I’ll see you soon. Leave your window open?

- Yours truly, H.’

You tape them to your bathroom mirror like confessions.

Late at night, you write your name across his pale chest with cherry lipstick, his arms, his hips—right over his heart.

You like the way his eyes roll when you straddle him, brows furrowed, his mouth always parted like he forgot how to breathe again. He trembles when you kiss, like every touch is sacrilegious.

You think he cried the first time he saw you naked.

A single tear, down his cheekbone, as his hands stayed frozen above his head like he didn’t know where to put them. You kissed the tear, then kissed lower.

⸻

The photos keep coming… the ones he takes.

You sip tea and sort through them like postcards at your kitchen table.

You, always you. At your window, or stretching in bed, or with headphones on and unaware, mouthing the lyrics to a song he later asked about.

“I like knowing you’re watching,” you once told him, brushing his hair back from his face as he lay in your lap.

He blinked up at you, as if waiting for the punchline.

You smiled.

“It makes me feel wanted.”

Sunghoon’s lips curled—just barely. A twitch of something fond and unhinged.

⸻

You still leave your window open without asking, but he has a key now just in case.

You always sleep deeper with his arms around you… and he’s beginning to leave clothes for you in the mornings.

Your stray cats still curl on the windowsill, still keeping you company in his absence.

Your house smells like rose petals and cold cologne. Your walls are now lined with clothesline, his secret photographs pinned along them with fairy lights.

You never fail to wake to the softest kisses on your shoulder, the words “mine, mine, mine” breathed like prayer.

On the fire escape, you hold his hand and he presses his lips to your temple.

“You’ll never know a love like mine,” he whispers.

“I know,” you whisper back, smiling.

And that’s all you need.

[xoami]

FASHION BABY, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 fire

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, Ni-ki comes home to find you playing in his clothes. PAIRING. tipsy bf!ni-ki x silly gf!reader GENRE. fluff WARNINGS. skinship

authors note ୨୧ We should all do Ni-ki cosplay. 🫡

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The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional distant honk from the street below.

Ni-ki was out with the guys—some casual drinks, maybe a round or two of pool, he’d said with that sly smile, the one that always made your stomach flutter. Which meant the place was all yours for the night.

And you knew exactly what that meant.

Ten minutes later, you stood in front of the mirror in your shared bedroom, your oversized tee long discarded and replaced with a gray Essentials hoodie that hung off you like it was swallowing you whole.

Draped on top was Ni-ki’s heavy black Harley Davidson biker jacket, the one that still smelled like his cologne—clean, cool, and just a little musky.

The jeans were ridiculous. Some avant-garde brand with a name you could never remember, all baggy and low-slung, cinched barely enough to stay on.

The Timberlands? Laughably huge, laces undone, flopping lazily around your ankles like you were a toddler playing dress-up.

You looked up, suppressing a grin, and reached for the Gentle Monster shades, sliding them onto your nose with a little head tilt and a smirk.

“Fire… my name is Ni-ki, I like going out—”

You cracked yourself up mid-sentence, biting your lip to stop from cackling too hard. You spun once, dramatically adjusting your posture, then remembered what was missing.

Jewelry, of course.

With reverence, you approached the sleek black drawer on his dresser—the one you swore had to be worth more than your entire closet—and slid it open slowly, like you were handling treasure.

Rows and rows of silver, chrome, and onyx.

You grinned, biting your lip again as you started stacking rings onto each finger, choosing the flashiest, bulkiest ones. A couple of chain bracelets joined in, and finally, a chrome hearts necklace that glinted under the bedroom light.

You looked insane…and amazing, in your opinion.

“Hell yeah,” you whispered, flicking your fingers like you were about to walk a runway.

The next half-hour was pure chaos: selfies, videos, TikTok drafts you’d probably never post.

You did little slow-mo walks in the hallway, pretended to rap in the mirror, you even went on to give yourself fake interviews.

“Ni-ki, what are you wearing tonight?” and you then answered in his voice. You danced a little, swayed your hips dramatically in his jeans, blew kisses at your reflection—

—and then the bedroom door clicked open.

“(Y/n), what the hell—”

You whipped around like a kid caught red-handed, the Yankee snapback you’d tossed on at the last minute nearly flying off your head before you quickly held it down in place.

“Baby! I was just—I was… oh.”

Your voice faltered when your eyes met his.

There he stood in the doorway, all six feet of swagger and shadowy glory, radiating that cool, offbeat charm he was known for. Ni-ki—tall, lean, and effortlessly him—tilted his head slightly as his dark hair slipped into his eyes.

Those eyes, still crinkled at the corners with amusement, met yours with a flicker of heat and humor. His full lips curved into a lazy, expectant smirk as he quirked a brow.

He looked insane—in the best way. A loose-fitting charcoal sweater hung off his frame, riddled with intentional holes that revealed peeks of pale skin and the soft freckles dusting his collarbone.

His baggy jeans sat low on his hips, cinched by a chunky belt. Designer sneakers on his feet, a few of his signature rings still stacked on the wrong fingers. And somehow, he made all of it look like second nature.

“What’re you doing, idiot?” he asked, voice low and teasing, the kind of tone that always made your cheeks warm.

“I was—I was trying on… your… well…” you mumbled, trailing off as the words dissolved into nothing.

The more you tried to explain, the more foolish you felt, standing there drowning in his clothes like some oversized toddler.

He didn’t say anything—just kept looking at you with that cocky little smile.

“Ni-ki…” you whined, drawing the name out sweetly, syrupy and soft, just the way you knew he liked.

You pouted, eyelashes fluttering as you took a slow, dramatic step forward.

He didn’t back away.

You closed the distance, arms easily slipping around his waist as you buried your face against his sweater. He was warm. Familiar. And probably laughing at you internally.

But he hugged you back anyway.

“You were playin’ in my closet while I was out…? That it?”

His voice, low and lazy, curled around you like smoke. You nodded into his chest, lips brushing the fabric of his sweater as you inhaled his warmth—familiar, grounding, slightly cologne and a little street.

Finally, you pulled back, just as he took a slow step away, eyes raking over you now that he had full view. A beat passed.

“Mm… not bad,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Not with the hat though.”

He reached for the snapback playfully, but you dodged, clutching it to your head like it was part of your soul.

“Chill! The hat is a nice addition… the fit is fire, be honest.”

You spun in place, as best as you could in his clown-sized jeans and boots, cocking your hip like you were walking a runway—even though your actual silhouette was completely swallowed. You laughed, still caught up in your little moment, your fingers flicking at the hem of the hoodie dramatically.

But you didn’t notice him moving again. Not at first.

Not until the air around you changed—until the space between you started to collapse.

He got closer, slow like gravity was pulling him toward you. His presence was impossible to ignore. Quiet, tall, steady.

Your breath hitched just slightly when you finally looked up—his eyes already on you, dark and half-lidded. There was a faint flush painted across his sharp cheekbones, soft and pink. Just enough to tell you he’d had a couple drinks, maybe one more than planned.

Still, his gaze was steady. Sharp. Intentional.

You swallowed.

“Look at you,” he said, voice low—so low it made the hair on your neck stand. “All proud of yourself in my stuff.”

His fingers brushed against the oversized jacket you wore, just barely skimming the fabric at your shoulder, like he couldn’t quite decide whether to take it off you or pull you in tighter.

“You look stupid cute like this.” His lips twitched into a subtle smirk, but his voice stayed soft, almost quiet—like he was telling you a secret.

“And you’re wearin’ my rings wrong.”

That pulled a laugh from your throat, nervous and sweet, but it died quick when he reached for your hand, his touch featherlight as he toyed with your fingers—his rings still stacked, mismatched, on your own.

Then, with a boldness that didn’t match the calm in his face, he brought your hand up and kissed the inside of your wrist.

You didn’t move. Couldn’t more so...

His nose grazed your skin just slightly.

“You always do this when I’m not here?” he murmured sleepily.

The heat curled in your stomach. The soft weight of his hand, the gentle rasp of his voice, the haze of his half-drunken warmth—all of it teetered on that line between playful and something else entirely.

“Well, when I miss you… or I’m bored, I just like to—”

You sucked your teeth, eyes rolling softly as you tried to gather yourself. Tried to sound like you weren’t melting from the inside out under the weight of his voice, his touch, his everything.

Why the hell should you explain yourself? How could you?

“Shut up, Ni-ki!” you groaned, pressing your hands weakly against his chest, as if that would stop anything.

Pathetic attempt, really—he barely budged.

He only grinned, that lopsided smirk of his blooming slowly across his face as he let your little shove happen, the warmth of his chest solid beneath your palms.

And then, like he had to—like it was second nature—his fingers curled into the front of the hoodie you wore, gently tugging you closer by the very fabric you’d stolen from him.

“とてもかわいい... (So cute),” he said, barely above a whisper. “Even when you try to act tough.”

He knew what him speaking in Japanese did to you. It was so soft it felt like it dropped right into your bones.

Fatality.

His forehead bumped yours lightly.

The silence that hung between you buzzed. Not awkward—never with him. Just charged. Like you were both standing on the edge of something that neither of you had to say out loud.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip before he added, “You miss me, huh?”

You didn’t answer. Not with words.

And when he leaned in just a little more—warm breath brushing your cheek, his hands still tugging at his hoodie wrapped around your frame—everything else stopped mattering.

He dipped his head, lips just barely grazing your ear as he whispered.

“Next time you wanna play dress-up, baby… make sure I’m around to help you take it off.”

[xoami]

toxic riki who acts like you guys are dating but treats you like a secret and then when you get mad about it he acts nonchalant bc "we're jus friends"

NOT YOURS, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 we’re just friends

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, Ni-ki wants the benefits without the commitment, and you’re done figuring out why. PAIRING. uni!ni-ki x fed up!reader GENRE. fluff WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing

authors note ୨୧ you guys like toxic ni-ki a lil too much.

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The problem wasn’t that Ni-ki acted like your boyfriend. It was that he only acted like your boyfriend — when it was just the two of you.

He gave you rides to campus. Waited in the lot, engine idling, while you took your sweet time. Picked you up, dropped you off. Brought you overpriced iced coffees, lip glosses, hoodies that still smelled like his cologne. Kissed you hard before class, hands greedy on your waist like he couldn’t bear to let go.

But ask him what you were?

“Just chill, babe,” he’d say with a smirk. “Why ruin a good thing?”

And you’d let it go. Every. Time.

Even when his friends were around and you suddenly became a friend. Even when another girl would wave a little too long and his arm would drop from your shoulder like it had burned him.

You should’ve left then.

You didn’t.

But tonight? You were done playing pretend.

It was a party. Bonfire, barefoot-in-the-sand type of vibe. The last blowout before summer break. The kind where someone’s crappy speaker would blast bad remixes and everyone would be drunk by sunset.

You showed up with your girls.

Your look was curated for war:

A vintage Dior bikini top, low-rise denim shorts hugging your hips. The matching thong straps peeked out just enough to make people look twice.

You wore dainty chains — and then his.

Ni-ki’s silver initials glittered right between your breasts like a crowned jewel.

Your lips were sticky with strawberry gloss, and your tinted shades were pushed high into your freshly blown-out hair as you stepped onto the beach, confidence dripping off you like perfume.

You looked delicious.

But where the hell was Ni-ki?

One drink. Sweet and tart.

Two shots.

Still no sign of him.

You were just reaching for another when you heard someone say his name — and then you saw it.

Ni-ki. Laughing, grinning, with the guys… all circled around a car. He was leaned against the driver’s side like he owned the entire damn beach. Baggy gray hoodie hanging half off one shoulder, the zipper undone just enough to reveal the sliver of that fitted black tank top you liked a little too much. His arms — toned, golden, obnoxiously kissable — flexed casually as he took a sip from a bottle someone handed him.

Stacked chains twinkled against his tanned, freckled collarbones, catching the sunlight in all the ways your anger couldn’t ignore. The same ones you’d seen clink against your own bare chest too many times in the dark.

His jeans were ripped, baggy, slung low on slim hips. His sneakers — your gift, of course — still stupidly clean despite the sand. Dark locks fell lazily into his eyes, after what looked like a few failed attempts at pushing them back with one ringed hand.

He looked like sex on legs.

And his car…

The one he said he wasn’t bringing.

And inside?

A girl.

Sitting in the passenger seat like she belonged there, scrolling idly on her phone while she smacked her gum.

Your blood ran hot.

You didn’t think. You stormed.

The sand barely slowed you down as your sandels sank with every furious step.

Ni-ki’s eyes landed on you first — his whole expression shifted. From chill to oh shit.

The group went quiet.

One by one, the guys scattered like they’d sensed the storm, Jay being quick to pull that girl from the car with as much stealth he could muster.

Only Ni-ki stayed put, arms loose at his sides, jaw clenched as he watched you approach.

His gaze dropped low. Too low.

You knew what he saw — and how badly he wanted it, to pick you, slam you on the hood and pop the strings on that damn bikini. The way his tongue swiped the inside of his cheek made that very clear.

But you didn’t let him speak first.

“Who was that?” you demanded, voice like poison-dipped sugar.

He blinked. “(Y/n), chill—”

“Don’t tell me to chill,” you snapped. “You said you weren’t bringing your car.”

“I wasn’t— Jake wanted to—”

“Bullshit. You couldn’t come get me? But you had time to play Uber for some chick?”

“She’s just a friend.”

You laughed. Sharp and humorless. “Of course she is.”

“Why are you making this a thing?” Ni-ki’s voice dropped low. He glanced around.

“You’re blowing this way out of—“

“Oh, am I?” You stepped closer, eyes narrowed.

“Then answer me this: What are we, Ni-ki? Because you sure act like my boyfriend when your head’s between my thighs.”

His jaw dropped — he looked horrified. Eyes darting left and right.

“Or was I your friend when you took me to meet your sister during spring break?” you went on, voice rising.

“Or when you bought me that necklace and told me—” You stepped right into his space now, fury crackling in your chest.

“Told me you belonged to me.”

Ni-ki lunged forward and slapped his hand over your mouth. “Shut the fuck up!” he hissed.

“Get your fucking hands off me—”

But before you could rip into him again, he grabbed your wrist and started dragging you.

You didn’t resist at first — you were too stunned. He muttered curses under his breath as he yanked open the passenger door of his car and practically shoved you inside.

Moments later, the tires were kicking up sand, the party shrinking behind you.

You were both silent until he pulled up near the far end of the beach. No people. No lights.

Just moonlight.

And tension… thick tension.

Ni-ki killed the engine and turned to you.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he said, eyes wild, breath heavy.

“No, Ni-ki. I’m fucking done,” you snapped back, voice shaking.

“I’m done letting you treat me like I’m only yours when no one else is watching. Shit’s embarrassing!”

He leaned back in his seat, scrubbing a hand down his face.

Then he laughed. Just once. A low, bitter sound.

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

Your heart stuttered. “Get what?!”

“I didn’t want you to be mine.”

The silence after that felt like a punch to the ribs.

Ouch.

But he wasn’t done.

“I didn’t want to like you this much. I didn’t want to need to see you every day. Didn’t want to get sick if I didn’t touch you for more than a few hours… but I do.”

He looked at you now. Fully. And there it was — raw and unfiltered in his eyes.

Need.

“You scare the shit out of me,” he said, voice low.

“Because if I called you mine, that’d mean you could leave. And I don’t know what I’d do if you ever—”

He stopped. Swallowed hard.

You exhaled, fists loosening at your sides.

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” you muttered, looking out the window to fight the small smile stinging your cheeks.

He blinked, startled.

Then he laughed — that real, boyish sound you hadn’t heard in days.

And then, without warning he was on you.

Ringed hand, gentle but firm, tugging you closer by the neck. Mouth on yours, hard and fast, like he’d been holding it back for weeks.

Like every kiss before this was just a warm-up.

His hands found your hips, dragging you across the console until you were straddling him in the driver’s seat, you whimpered in response.

You fit against him like a puzzle piece.

His fingers dipped under the band of your shorts, tugging roughly.

“You wore these?” he growled against your lips, voice tight, “Knowing you had no plans of letting me touch you all night?”

“You wore that smug-ass face,” you shot back, grinding down. “Knowing I’d be dying to slap it.”

He groaned... Loud. Desperate. Hands everywhere.

“You’re mine,” he said suddenly, pulling away, chest heaving, eyes locked on yours. “Say it.”

“Ni-ki—”

“I fucked up, okay? I didn’t want anyone else to see you like this.” His hands cupped your jaw, reverent.

“But I didn’t know if I could handle it either… and I’m done hiding. You’re mine…”

“And I’m yours, (Y/n). Yours.”

You bit your lip, nails dragging down his chest as you leaned in again for a much needed kiss.

“Took you long enough.”

You wasted no time tugging off that damned hoodie and showing him just how good it felt to be owned.

…

You woke up with your cheek pressed against cool leather and your legs tangled in the thin blanket he kept in his trunk.

The ocean air still clung to your hair from the cracked windows— and so did the smell of him.

Ni-ki’s hoodie was half off your shoulder, your bikini top was long gone in the backseat, and your lips were swollen from the mess you’d made of each other in the front seat of his car.

He was still asleep, reclined back in the driver’s seat, lashes brushing his cheeks, mouth barely parted, one ringed hand splayed over your thigh like a claim. Yours.

Finally.

You smirked.

The sun was just creeping over the horizon when you pushed the car door open and stepped onto the cool sand. Your legs were still weak — but your pride?

Untouchable.

You pulled Ni-ki’s hoodie fully over your half-bare chest, zipped it halfway, and slid your sunglasses on, paying your wind blown hair no mind.

A couple of stragglers were still passed out around the dying bonfire. Your friends were somewhere. Probably still drunk. But you?

You strutted back across that beach like it was a runway. Bikini bottoms barely peeking under his hoodie. His chain glinting against your collarbone, littered with fresh love bites and the colors of last night.

The way the girls looked you up and down as they gathered themselves to leave the beach— the way some of the guys straightened up, as they started to their cars, mouths parting from opened windows — told you exactly what you looked like.

Ni-ki’s girlfriend.

Finally, publicly.

He’d better pray he could keep up.

[xoami]

FRESH FOR YOU, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 home sweet home

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, Jay comes home to find you in one of his favorite comfort shirts. PAIRING. whipped husband!jay x whipped wife!reader GENRE. fluff, implied nsfw WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, very suggestive, mdni

authors note ୨୧ should I release the continuation I wrote?

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Jay dropped his bag next to the door with a quiet thump and toed off his shoes, letting out a sigh that felt like the first breath he’d taken all day.

He padded softly into the apartment — your apartment — and felt the weight of his job melt off him with every step. The soft scent of coconut and vanilla hit his nose, cozy and familiar. You must’ve cleaned today.

The corners of his mouth lifted.

God, he loved coming home to you.

The living room was quiet, cast in the warm amber glow of lamps instead of the usual overhead lights. There was something soft about the atmosphere, like a gentle hum vibrating through the space. His eyes wandered for you, and then—

He spotted you near the kitchen counter, one leg slightly bent as you lit a candle on the windowsill, lips pursed in concentration. The flick of the match was almost poetic — tiny flame, focused eyes…

Then he let his eyes trail down your person, his smile fading into something more worried… for his own sanity of course.

That oversized, pin-striped dress shirt he loved so much hanging off your shoulders like it was made for you...

His shirt.

Jay stopped in his tracks.

Who knew domesticity would do it for him?

You looked… fuck. You looked innocent. Sweet. So soft. The usually sharp, velvety edge to your presence had been replaced by something blurry and dreamy. Jay wasn’t used to seeing you this way — not like this, not when you usually walked into a room like you were six feet tall, all confidence and allure. Though soft-spoken, you had an undeniable edge.

The kind of energy that had drawn him in like a moth to a flame. Reckless and happy to be burned by your light.

But now?

Now you looked tiny in his shirt, hair damp from a recent shower, collar slipping off one shoulder. Jay’s heart stopped.

You turned, finally sensing him.

“Oh! you’re home,” you grinned, holding your arms out invitingly.

“I’m glad you came back to me in one piece.”

Jay moved without thinking, crossing the room and wrapping you in a hug that was all-consuming. His hands gripped you tightly, chest flush against yours, breathing you in — clean skin, citrusy lotion, floral shampoo. It was you. Every inch of you.

And it short-circuited his brain.

“Showered?” he murmured against your neck, voice thick.

“Mhm,” you nodded innocently, “I wanted to feel fresh for you…”

That was it.

With no warning, Jay scooped you up bridal-style, laughing when you yelped and clung to him.

“Jay! What are you doing?”

“You looked too good not to,” he grinned, setting you gently on the counter, his hands firm on your thighs to keep you there. His eyes flicked down, drinking you in again.

“You really wore this shirt today?”

“I didn’t feel like getting dressed,” you smirked, legs swinging lightly.

“Your shirts were just hanging there all lonely in the closet.”

Jay exhaled like he was in pain. “You know what seeing you in my clothes does to me…”

You raised a brow smugly. “Of course I do. I’m married, not stupid.”

That earned you a low chuckle, and a brush of his thumb across your exposed collarbone as he subtly adjusted the shirt back up your shoulder. Not that it helped — the image was already scorched into his memory.

“So… how was your day, Mr. Park?” you teased, nudging him with your knee.

“Was the Vesselsoft empire kind to you today?”

He laughed, forehead falling to your shoulder. “Exhausting. Endless meetings…My boss nearly cried over a server issue that wasn’t my fault...”

“Yikes, baby… Tell them your wife wants compensation for the emotional damage her husband endured.”

“Yeah…? Does money talk now?” Jay quizzed, watching his hands slide across your thighs.

“Yep.” You smirk.

“Don’t think I make enough for your retail addiction?” he raised a brow.

You blinked. “No! I just… I spend money very, very fast, Jay.”

“Can you spend it as fast as I earn it?”

Your grin widens, blush creeping up your ears, but you remain silent.

“Hm?” he leaned in, eyes dark with mischief. “That’s what I thought.”

His hands slid up and down your thighs, fingertips firm, grounding you. You tilted your head at him, fingers gently fixing his loosened tie.

“And you?” he asked softly. “What’d you do today, honey?”

You held your hand up, wiggling your fingers. “Got my nails done!”

Jay gently took your hand, inspecting the soft baby pink polish, the tiny white flower on your index. He kissed each fingertip as you chattered on.

“I had lunch with friends, we went shopping after — No, not retail, just groceries. Oh, I got that cereal you liked as a kid… Hm, then I cleaned the apartment, which took forever, but I lit candles so now it smells really nice—”

His lips trailed from your fingertips up your arm as you spoke on, and when they reached the curve of your neck, your breath caught.

“Jay…” you laughed breathily, voice going faint. “Wh-what’s gotten into you?”

He pressed himself tighter between your legs, voice thick against your skin.

“I’ve just missed you is all…”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, smiling softly as your lips brushed his ear. “Yeah…? How much?”

He leaned back slightly, eyes half-lidded, dark with something wild. “You’ve got no idea.”

You cupped his cheek, smoothing down the edge of his tie, your voice quieter now.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Jay’s expression softened, his lips capturing yours again in a kiss so deep and sure it made your toes curl.

“I love you too, (Y/n)… so much.”

You gasped between kisses, breath warm against his mouth. Eventually, you pushed him away just enough for you both to catch your breaths, shyness creeping in as you gripped his shoulders.

“Jay— Jay, I want to have sex. Like… now?”

Jay froze for just a second and a half.

Then looked up at you like he had just seen God, eyebrows raised as if he wasn’t sure you knew what you just asked of him. Eyes low, pupils blown. Every part of him drawn to you like gravity.

“Oh… baby,” he murmured, voice hoarse.

Before you could even process the hunger in his expression, he had you in his arms again, carrying you toward the bedroom like a man on a mission.

You were smiling from ear to ear.

And the door closed softly behind you.

[xoami]

SUCKER PUNCH, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 either way it hurts.

𖥔 PRECIS. It’s not love—not the kind they write about. It’s something messier. Hungrier. You and Heeseung don’t fit together, but you find each other. PAIRING. stray dog!heeseung x stray cat!reader GENRE. angst WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, violence, suggestive

authors note ୨୧ I’m baaaack. Just in time to catch the wave of new fics w/ their comeback. ☺️

─────────

The Beginning

You weren’t supposed to end up like this—burnt out at twenty-something, biting your tongue to keep from saying something cruel, again. But then again, neither was Heeseung.

You were the quiet one. The stray cat. All claws when cornered, aloof when it suited you. He was the opposite—loud, feral, stubborn. A stray dog that never knew when to stop barking, or biting.

Family didn’t mean much to either of you. Broken homes, voices raised too often, love handed out like a punishment—you never talked about it. No need. You saw it in each other. That twitch behind the eye when someone mentioned “dad.” That bitterness in the voice when someone said “home.” You kept to yourselves, save for a few close friends, and then… each other.

It wasn’t easy.

Fights between you and Heeseung were practically routine. Like brushing your teeth. Only louder. Red in the face, tears threatening to spill, lips trembling with rage. And then, sometimes, he’d whisper your name low and broken, and you’d grab his face and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe. Until your anger melted into moans and gasps and the ache in your chest turned into something else entirely. Sex was your language. More frequent than “I love you,” more truthful than any apology.

Heeseung never claimed you with words. But he looked at you like you were everything. And you never told anyone how you felt about him—but you couldn’t imagine your life without his scent on your pillow.

And still… he fought.

Heeseung was drawn to the ring like a moth to a flame—raw knuckles, a bloody grin, sweat pouring down his neck. You hated it. The violence. The high. The danger. He said it was for money. That he was “providing.” That it was all for you.

But the truth? He liked it.

Tonight

You found him again.

After a silent cab ride, neon lights washing over your face in flickering blues and reds, you pushed through the sweaty crowd of that grimy underground club. The air was thick—blood, smoke, heat. Someone laughed and shoved a fat roll of bills into your hand.

“Your boyfriend’s prize money. He’s a beast—”

You shoved it into your pocket. Didn’t even look at them. You could barely hear over the buzzing in your ears.

The alley was dark, lit only by a flickering bulb and the glow of Heeseung’s cigarette. He looked like hell— knuckles bruised and bloody, lip busted and already scabbing over, the tiniest cut across his nose…. sweaty tank top sticking to tanned, bruised skin.

His body, worn and tired, swayed idly in the night’s breeze, even with his back pressed firm into the brick wall behind him.

His dark brown locks were a mess and disheveled, sticking up all over. His cheeks and ears flushed red, his nose too, and you wanted to forget you were angry, and pull his face into your neck if it meant it’d shield him from the night’s chill.

As you got closer, you saw those eyes dark, from lack of sleep and the light like hardly reached them. Only the glow of his cigarette set a warmth to his face. But God, he was still beautiful. Too beautiful.

“I don’t want your stupid fucking bet money, Heeseung!” you snapped, throwing the money in his face.

He didn’t flinch. Just exhaled smoke slowly, stepping toward you.

“Damn. Can’t get a congratulations?” He tilted his head, eyes hooded.

“Thought you wanted a provider, baby…”

He leaned in to kiss you. You shoved your hand in his face, blocking him.

He kissed into your palm anyway.

“Don’t—” you warned, pressing his chest.

But he didn’t stop. His hands slipped around your waist, pulling you in.

You pushed harder. “I said don’t.”

He grabbed your wrist this time.

You slapped him…

Clean across the face.

Heeseung’s head snapped to the side with the blow, a slow groan leaving his throat.

He spat out the blood with a bitter laugh, “Fucking hell…”

You shoved him, walking past, your heart pounding, but he grabbed your arm again. “Let go—”

He held tighter.

“I said—”, you could feel angry tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, that painful lump growing in your throat.

You gripped his wrists this time, nails digging in. But he just dropped to his knees… slowly, as if the weight of you was the only thing anchoring him.

“Baby, I’m sorry…” His voice cracked as he rested his forehead against your stomach, big hands sliding to your hips.

“But this… this is good. I won. I fucking won.”

You stared down at him, expression unreadable.

You reached out, brushing his sweat damp hair from his eyes only to tug his head back with a harshness you couldn’t quite commit to, only so he’d see you when you said it.

“You promised, fucking idiot.”

The Ride Home

You remember the sweet nothings Heeseung whispered as he clipped your helmet on, how he swore it was good for you two…

You stayed silent.

You let him set you on the back of his bike, and you let him tug your arms around his waist himself… then he roared through the city, but neither of you said a word.

You pressed your cheek to his back, eyes locked on the passing blur of streetlights. Your arms wrapped tightly around his torso like you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go.

The Shower

Heeseung was already in the water by the time you stepped into the sickly yellow glow of your tiny shared bathroom, hesitantly pulling back the thin curtain of the shower, all while avoiding his gaze.

Steam filled the space, clinging to your skin. Heeseung looked over his shoulder at you, swiping the water from his face with a natural harshness he could no longer control, but he said nothing just yet, his eyes tracking your every movement as your towel dropped.

He let move on your own, a behavior he had grown accustomed to. You really were like a cat… move too fast and you’d retreat.

“(Y/n),” he murmured, “You know I don’t do it for fun… I do it for us—”

You stepped in front of him, under the weak stream, and he didn’t mind that you stole the flow of warmth for a moment.

He turned you around gently, pressing your back to his chest. Water ran down your bodies, steam rising around your silhouettes.

“I don’t want you to do it at all…” you muttered, lifting his hands in yours and bringing them to your mouth.

You kissed each knuckle.

Each bruise. Soft. Tender. Contrasting everything about the man they belonged to.

Heeseung’s breath hitched. He turned you slowly, cupping your cheeks.

The heat between you was unbearable. His forehead pressed to yours, your lips brushing without touching. His thumbs traced the edges of your mouth like he was trying to memorize every part of you.

“You know I’d stop if you asked me to,” he whispered. “Like—really asked me.”

“I have,” you said.

Silence.

Then his mouth was on yours. Deep, slow, all desperation and craving. The kind of kiss that steals your breath. His hands roamed—shoulders, spine, waist—like he was trying to remind himself that you were real.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he whispered against your lips.

You shook your head, resting your fingers to his bruised collarbone.

“I can’t.”

And even if you never said “I love you,” not in so many words, it hung thick between you in that steamy room. In every look, every fight, every shattered breath.

After

The mattress is on the floor—has been for months. No frame, no headboard, no attempt at pretending either of you live like you’re okay. Thin sheets tangled around your bare legs, damp with sweat and the residue of everything you didn’t say.

Heeseung’s arm is slung over your waist, heavy like an anchor. His face is buried in your neck, breaths slow, uneven. You’re both wide awake, eyes open, but quiet.

There’s nothing to say.

Not right now. What’s there to say when everything’s already been screamed or touched or cried into the skin of the other?

Your fingers trace the old scar on his shoulder. You don’t ask where it’s from. You know. Just like he knows why your breathing changed when he muttered something about home earlier.

His thumb rubs lazy circles into your hip. Not because he’s thinking about it—just because his body moves when it’s near yours.

You stare up at the ceiling. Water from the busted AC drips into a plastic bowl. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Heeseung shifts behind you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. It’s not sweet. It’s not romantic. It’s instinct.

Like breathing.

Like bleeding.

Like loving someone you can’t walk away from, even if you wanted to.

And you don’t want to. Neither of you do. Even if it kills you.

Eventually, you fall asleep… He hates this part.

The quiet.

Not because you’re gone—you’re still here, curled up beside him, back against his chest, your skin warm under his arm—but because this is when his thoughts get loud.

He watches the ceiling too, but he doesn’t see it. Not really. All he sees is your silhouette burned into the backs of his eyelids. Your mouth parted in sleep. The little bruises his hands left on your hips, the tender bites he left on the plushness of your inner thighs. The curve of your spine rising and falling with each breath.

He should say something. Sorry. I love you. I’ll stop fighting. Something. Anything.

But he doesn’t. His throat won’t let him. And besides, you’re not saying anything either.

Maybe you’re just as tired of the cycle as he is.

His fingers twitch against your hipbone. He lets them wander, ghosting over your soft skin. It feels like penance. Like prayer.

You shift a little. Not awake. Just enough to remind him you’re real. Still here. Still his.

He presses his face into the space between your shoulder blades and inhales.

You smell like sweat and sleep and something warm he’s never had a word for. You smell like his.

He thinks about the fight. Not the one in the ring. The one earlier. Your voice cracking when you said you promised. Your hands shaking when you slapped him. Your silence on the bike. All of it echoing in his ribs like a drumbeat.

You’d never admit it, but he knows you were scared. Not scared of him—for him. That’s worse.

He should’ve stayed home. Should’ve just held you. Kissed you slow. Let himself belong to something softer.

But he doesn’t know how.

He’s never known how.

So he just lays there, holding you like you’re going to slip through his fingers if he lets go. And maybe you will. One day.

But tonight, you’re still in his arms. Still breathing beside him.

Even broken people can find home in each other.

Even stray hearts need a place to belong.

Tonight, maybe tomorrow… or we’ll just say for now, he belonged to you.

That’s enough.

[xoami]

Okay but listen.... the jungwon part of the blurb where they call the reader noona, the one where he's an intern in an office - a masterpiece. Literal work of art. Please, for the love of God, consider writing something like that some time bc it's absolutely divine❤️

WORK FOR IT, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 I miss you.

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, the very popular office intern, has had enough of your teasing. PAIRING. office intern!jungwon x office siren!reader GENRE. fluff, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing

authors note ୨୧ I feel like a genie! Your wish is my command, engene. 💕

─────────

The hum of the copier filled the print room as you busied yourself, hands deftly arranging papers into neat stacks. The door clicked open and shut behind you, but you didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Noona~” came the familiar, honeyed voice.

“Good morning, Wonnie,” you replied smoothly, your tone teasing, as if you hadn’t noticed his obvious stares all morning.

Before you could fully process, warm, surprisingly strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against a firm chest. You froze only for a second as the scent of apples and fresh linen surrounded you. His lips brushed against your neck, soft and fleeting, sending an involuntary shiver through you.

“Jungwon~ that tickles, honey,” you laughed breathily, attempting to keep your composure as his hold tightened slightly.

He let out a low whine, his head burying into your shoulder. Then, he shifted, and you braced yourself on the counter when his hips pressed insistently against you. His hands slid down to rest on your hips, holding you in place.

“Jungwon—what has gotten into you?” you asked, giggling as you twisted to face him, your back now pressed against the counter.

Jungwon’s face was flushed, his glasses slightly askew, and his ears burned bright red. His lips were pressed into a pout, but his eyes gleamed with something bold and unrelenting.

“Noona…” he breathed out, his arms on either side of you now, effectively caging you in.

His voice was a mix of frustration and yearning. “I miss you. You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

Your lips quirked up in amusement, but he barreled on, his gaze locking onto yours, his cheeks impossibly red.

“You were eyeing me in this morning’s meeting, rubbing your heel along my leg, then leaving as soon as it ended. Then, you didn’t even drink the coffee I made you. And after that—” His voice dropped slightly, his frustration slipping into something almost pleading. “—you left with Sunghoon for lunch, and now…” His voice cracked slightly as he leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Noona, you’re driving me crazy.”

You chuckled softly, uncrossing your arms to reach up and fix his glasses with delicate fingers. His gaze flickered down to your lips as you pecked his softly.

“Wonnie… shhh,” you whispered, glancing toward the blind-covered window. The last thing either of you needed was someone catching this little rendezvous.

But as you leaned back in to kiss him again, Jungwon snapped. His hand cupped the back of your head as he deepened the kiss, the sudden intensity stealing the air from your lungs. The dominance in his movements shocked you—he wasn’t holding back anymore.

“Jungwon,” you gasped when he pulled back, only for his lips to find your jawline, trailing heated kisses down your neck.

“Noona,” he whispered between kisses, his tone a mix of desperation and satisfaction. “Don’t avoid me again… Please.”

You swallowed hard, heat rushing to your cheeks as you gripped his shoulders. “Okay, okay, I won’t,” you managed, voice breathless.

The printer beeped behind you, a sharp reminder of where you were, but the way Jungwon looked at you—lips swollen, eyes dark with desire—made you forget anyone else existed.

[xoami]

Oooh did toxic Riki…:MAYBE YOU CAN DO reader and Riki are hanging out when she gets a call and it’s from her friend that Riki HATES because they always tell her to leave Riki and he’s toxic

———

THEY DONT KNOW ME. ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 It’s not fair…

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, your best friend is not a fan of the boy you love. PAIRING. past player bf!ni-ki x naive whipped gf!reader GENRE. fluff, slight angst(?) WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing

authors note ୨୧ Ask and you shall receive, sweet pea. 💕

─────────

The warm golden sunlight poured through your bedroom window, casting a soft glow across Ni-ki’s blushed face.

He sat comfortably on your bed, clad in a gray hoodie that hugged his frame just right, the cute little moles that freckled his smooth tanned skin on display, the silver chain that hang across his collarbone peeking out, his fluffy, freshly washed bangs falling into his sleep eyes— a rare sight you couldn’t stop staring at. His lips curled into a lopsided grin as he caught you looking. “What?” he teased, his voice low and playful, leaning closer.

You giggled, shaking your head, and softly tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie. “Nothing… you’re just—”

“Just what?” he pressed, his veiny hands gently brushing over your knee, sending sparks along your skin.

“Too good-looking for your own good,” you murmured shyly, feeling the blush creep up your neck.

He chuckled, his nose brushing against yours before his lips found yours again. It started with sweet, lazy kisses—soft and unrushed, like you had all the time in the world.

His lips were soft and sweet with the strawberry chapstick he wore— a cute little note about him you found adorable when you found out.

His one hand found your waist, the other found your thigh, fingertips skimming lightly underneath your frilly pajama shorts and against your skin as he pulled you closer. The familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the sun-drenched air, making your head feel a little hazy.

You sank deeper into his touch, your fingers tangling in his soft hair, and for a moment, it felt like nothing could disrupt the dreamy bubble you’d created together as you were guided back against the fluffed pillows of your bed.

But then, your phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, shattering the peace.

You groaned, reaching over to check it, but Ni-ki stopped you, his lips brushing against your jaw.

“Don’t answer it,” he mumbled, his tone almost petulant.

You chuckled softly. “It could be important,” you replied, slipping your hand free to grab the phone. His hand dropped to your thigh, his grip firm but not harsh, a silent protest.

The screen lit up, and you saw the messages flooding in. Your heart sank a little as you read the sender: Bestie 🎀. Ni-ki’s expression hardened immediately.

“Bestie 🎀: (Y/n), I saw your story. Are you serious?”

“Bestie 🎀: I told you he’s no good. You’re gonna get your heart broken.”

You winced, putting the phone down as another message pinged in. Ni-ki’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, “You told them about us?”

“It wasn’t like that,” you said quickly. “I just… posted that picture of us at the arcade yesterday. I didn’t think they’d freak out like this.”

Ni-ki leaned back slightly, crossing his arms. The soft glow of the sunlight still made him look unreal, but his mood had shifted, his playful demeanor replaced by something guarded.

“They don’t even know me,” he said quietly, though there was a bite to his words. “All they know is what people used to say about me.”

You knew what he meant. Ni-ki had a past—a Casanova reputation that still clung to him, even though he hadn’t been that guy in years. He had been the type to charm everyone, leaving a trail of broken hearts behind, but with you, he was different. Softer. Real.

“I don’t care what they say,” you said firmly, reaching for his hand. He hesitated for a moment but let you take it, his fingers curling around yours.

“You’ve shown me who you really are, Ni-ki. That’s all that matters.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, though the frown on his lips remained. “It just pisses me off,” he muttered, his voice low. “They act like they know us—like they know me. They’re just waiting for me to mess up so they can say, ‘I told you so.’”

“I know,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “But you’re not going to mess up. And even if you did, I’d still be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The tension in his face eased as he let out a small sigh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Good,” he said quietly, pulling you closer. “Because I don’t plan on letting you go.”

You leaned into him, your forehead resting against his as you whispered, “You don’t have to.”

The two of you sat there for a moment, the messages forgotten, the world outside fading away. His hands found your waist again, and his lips brushed against yours, warm and soft.

This time, the kisses were slower, sweeter, the golden sunlight wrapping you both in its quiet glow. In his arms, you felt safe—like nothing and no one could touch the love you’d built together.

.

.

.

You just hoped he didn’t prove them right.

[xoami]

TOUCH DOWN, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 all star boy

𖥔 PRECIS. a series of headcanons for my university star athletes au PAIRING. star football player!jay x supportive gf!reader GENRE. fluff, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, kissing, petnames

authors note ୨୧ I’m back. For real this time. ♥️

─────────

Star football player Jay, who always catches you staring during practice, playfully winks every time, knowing it flusters you, and then gets extra smug when you quickly look away.

Star football player Jay, who is known for his intensity on the field but turns into a total softie when you wear his jersey, tugging you close and whispering, "You look so much better in it than I ever could."

Star football player Jay, who walks around campus like he owns the place, yet always makes sure to save you a spot at the cafeteria table, offering you bites of his food even though you pretend you're not hungry so he fills up.

Star football player Jay, who stays late after practice to work on extra drills but never leaves without sending you a teasing voice message, telling you to "be a good girl and wait for me."

Star football player Jay, who doesn't care about anything but the game during matches, but the second he scores, he looks up into the stands, searching for your reaction, heart swelling when he sees you cheering.

Star football player Jay, who playfully throws his sweaty practice jersey at you after a long workout, smirking when you scowl and toss it back, but then pulls you into a hug, refusing to let go until you laugh.

Star football player Jay, who texts you at 2 AM after an away game saying he can't sleep, and when you ask why, he sends a picture of his empty bed and writes, "Guess who’s missing."

Star football player Jay, who hates being the center of attention at the post-game parties, but insists on keeping his arm around your waist the entire time, showing everyone who you belong to.

Star football player Jay, who seemed effortlessly confident until he was about to ask you out officially, suddenly stumbling over his words as he muttered, "So, uh, are we… like… together or what?"

Star football player Jay, who gets into a tense argument with you right before an important game, and even though he plays his heart out, he can’t focus until he sees you waiting for him in the locker room afterward, looking just as torn up as he feels.

Star football player Jay, who isn’t the best at expressing his emotions but leaves small notes in your locker—"You looked cute in class today"—with a tiny heart drawn at the end, just so you know he’s thinking about you.

Star football player Jay, who gets too cocky sometimes, draping himself over you and whispering, "You know you love being my number 1 fan," before trailing kisses down your neck, knowing exactly how to get a reaction out of you.

Star football player Jay, who jokes that his teammates can fend for themselves after games because he has better plans with you, only to groan when you suggest study dates instead.

Star football player Jay, who hates seeing you upset, especially if it's because of something dumb he said. He'll show up outside your dorm room with your favorite snacks, looking apologetic and muttering, "I’m sorry, okay? Can we talk?"

Star football player Jay, who lifts you up after every big win, spinning you around in front of his teammates, who all hoot and cheer, while you laugh and cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Star football player Jay, who clearly limps off the field after a brutal tackle, his jaw clenched in pain, but the moment he catches your concerned eyes in the stands, he forces a cocky smile, pretending everything’s fine just to make sure you don't worry.

Star football player Jay, who often crashes in your dorm after practice, sprawling out on your bed while you massage every knot and tension in his shoulders, arms, and thighs. He lets out quiet groans of relief, murmuring, “You have no idea how good that feels,” while his hand lazily traces patterns on your leg.

Star football player Jay, who is left completely stunned when, during halftime, you walk out onto the court with the cheerleading team, this being your big reveal that you made the squad. He stares, jaw slightly dropped, then breaks into the biggest grin, his heart racing for a completely different reason now as he watches you perform.

Star football player Jay, who completely dies of laughter when you try on his football pads, looking so small and wobbly in them. As you stumble under the weight, running with the ball, he’s practically doubled over, gasping for breath between laughs, saying, "Babe, you're gonna fall over!" even though he's secretly loving how adorable you look.

Star football player Jay, who you find in the locker room after a particularly heated game in the rain, jersey off, smeared with mud, his hair damp and dripping. The second you see him, you can't help yourself, kissing him hard on the mouth right then and there. He doesn’t waste a second gripping the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the tension melts away in that moment.

[xoami]

I can't believe you followed me back, I love your works!!!

You’re actually the cutest! Of course I did.

I’ve read a few of your works too, and they’re so sweet! 💕

[xoami]

IN YOUR COURT, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 get your head in the game

𖥔 PRECIS. a series of headcanons for my university star athletes au PAIRING. star basketball player!heeseung x supportive gf!reader GENRE. fluff, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, kissing, petnames

authors note ୨୧ pt. 2/4 my loves~

─────────

Star basketball player Heeseung, who winks at you from the court every time he makes a three-pointer, loving how flustered it makes you.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who invites you to “help him practice” at the gym late at night, only for it to turn into a playful game of one-on-one where he lets you score just to see you smile—then pulls you close when you’re out of breath.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who always waits for you outside your last class of the day, leaning casually against the wall with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder, flashing you a grin.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who texts you at 3 a.m. after a tough game, confessing how he can’t sleep because the only thing on his mind is how much he wants to see you.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who teases you endlessly during study sessions, flicking your pen or kicking your chair under the table until you threaten to leave—but he pulls you back in with a smirk and an apology whispered into your ear.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who shows up at your dorm after a big game, sweaty and out of breath, immediately pulling you into a feverish kiss, his deep voice telling you he just wanted to see you before celebrating with his team.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who gets incredibly protective when other guys try to flirt with you at team parties, wrapping his arm around your waist and leaning down to kiss your cheek as if daring anyone to make a move.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who throws his team hoodie over your shoulders on chilly game nights, pretending like it’s no big deal, but secretly loving how adorable you look in his clothes.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who laughs with you during late-night phone calls, sprawled out in his bed and mindlessly tossing a basketball, only to pause for just a second too long when you mention you miss him—and he says softly, “I miss you more.”

Star basketball player Heeseung, who picks you up for class after his early morning practices, but insists on taking a detour to his favorite lookout point, where he pulls you into his lap, his lips lingering on your neck as he murmurs how much he’s been thinking about you all day.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who gets visibly upset when his performance on the court isn’t up to par, only for you to find him at the gym after hours, silently shooting hoops until you coax him into talking—and then, into your arms.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who always makes sure to get you the best seat at his games, right in the front row, so he can make direct eye contact with you during timeouts, the silent communication between you two like a secret language.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who gets a little too competitive when you jokingly challenge him to a game of basketball on the outdoor court, his hands “accidentally” brushing against your hips and butt a little too often as he pulls you close, his voice low and teasing, claiming he’s just “guarding you”

Star basketball player Heeseung, who comes to your room after every big game, his face lighting up when you open the door, and he wraps you in a bear hug, mumbling against your shoulder how much better the win feels when you’re there to share it with him.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who loves making you laugh, even in the most intense moments, cracking dumb jokes in between serious talks or during study sessions, just to see that smile he’s totally addicted to.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who quietly slips his hand into yours when no one is looking, squeezing it tightly, and when you glance up, he’s just staring at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who can go from cocky and playful during practice to sweet and vulnerable when you’re alone, admitting how much he worries about balancing his dreams with keeping you close.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who presses you tight against the corridor halls during halftime, kissing feverishly along your neck, his damp hair tickling your face, before your lips crash in desperate attempts to taste more of each other, just for his forehead to press against yours during a quiet moment, his breath warm against your lips as he whispers, “We should stop,” before pulling you in for another slow, tender kiss.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who loves to keep his hand tucked in your back pocket as you walk around campus together, letting everyone know you’re his, while he grins down at you and teases you about how cute you look when you blush.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who looks especially attractive when he’s angry on the court, jaw clenched, eyes burning with determination, and sweat dripping down his face. You can’t help but stare, completely mesmerized, even when his intensity should probably scare you a little.

Star basketball player Heeseung, who absolutely melts whenever he finds you lounging around in his oversized jerseys, barely able to keep the smirk off his face as he walks over, tugging at the fabric and saying, “You look better in this than I do,” before pulling you into a lazy hug.

[xoami]

BATTER UP, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 home run, baby

𖥔 PRECIS. a series of headcanons for my university star athletes au PAIRING. star baseball player!jake x supportive gf!reader GENRE. fluff, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, kissing, petnames

authors note ୨୧ this is pt. 1/4 of this hyung line star athlete au I’ve conjured up in my head. yuh.

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Star baseball player Jake, who always spots you in the stands, gives you a little wink before stepping up to the plate, making your heart race as if he knows exactly how to fluster you.

Star baseball player Jake, who teases you about how obsessed you are with watching him play, but secretly waits for your cheers the most, knowing it gives him the confidence to perform even better.

Star baseball player Jake, who surprises you after every game with a playful hug from behind, his face buried in your neck as he asks, “Did I impress you today?”

Star baseball player Jake, who casually slips his baseball cap onto your head during games, flashing that easygoing grin as he says, “Looks better on you.”

Star baseball player Jake, who shamelessly pulls you in close for a messy, rough kiss after a tough game, the sweat dripping down his face, his breathing heavy, as he mutters, “…This was all I needed…”

Star baseball player Jake, who throws mock glares at his teammates during team events when they try to flirt with you, not-so-subtly marking his territory by draping an arm around your shoulder.

Star baseball player Jake, who stays up late to help you study, even when he has early morning practice, insisting that “my grades are good enough—I’m more worried about you.”

Star baseball player Jake, who gets caught staring at you instead of focusing during practice, only for his coach to yell out, “Jake! Eyes on the game, not your girl!”

Star baseball player Jake, who gives you his jersey after a big win, knowing you love how it smells like him, and later sends a cheeky text, “Better not let anyone else see you in it.”

Star baseball player Jake, who can’t wait to get you alone in his dorm after an especially good practice or game, letting you pull his jersey over his mess of hair as he peppers your body in warm, rushed kisses.. “Is this my reward?”

Star baseball player Jake, who sulks after losing a really intense game and refuses to talk to anyone but you, only to break down when he’s alone with you, admitting, “I just hate letting everyone down, especially you...”

Star baseball player Jake, who sneaks you into the locker room after hours, sitting on the bench beside you with a mischievous grin as he says, before capturing your lips in a warm, sensual kiss. “We’re not supposed to be here, but I couldn’t wait to see you.”

Star baseball player Jake, who makes sure you’re wearing his team’s colors at every game, calling you his “lucky charm,” and firmly believing that you bring him good luck. He especially likes when you write his jersey number on your cheek!

Star baseball player Jake, who challenges you to a playful game of catch after practice, laughing at how uncoordinated you are but always rushing over to help you fix your stance, his hands lingering a little too long on your waist. “What…? It’s your form that’s all weird..”

Star baseball player Jake, who secretly loves when you call him out for spending too much time at practice, just so he can dramatically pout and whine, “But I’m doing it all for you!”

Star baseball player Jake, who posts cute pictures of the two of you on his social media after a game, with captions like, “My #1 fan ❤️” or “Couldn’t do it without her support 😘.”

Star baseball player Jake, who runs his fingers through his hair and sighs dramatically every time you mention one of his teammates, playfully asking, “You like them more than me now, huh?”

Star baseball player Jake, who puts his cap on backwards and shoots you a playful smirk, jaw flexing as he chews his usual bubble gum, every time you try to focus on your work, just because he knows how much you’re into that look.

Star baseball player Jake, who gets flustered when you wear his oversized varsity jacket, trying to play it cool but eventually blurting out, “You’re gonna make me lose my focus if you keep looking that good in my clothes.”

[xoami]

You all probably think I’ve vanished…

But the amount of bullets I have in the chamber?

Im about to start dropping HELLA FICS.

Be ready.

[xoami]

RIBBONS OR BOWS, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 tie me up

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, the two of you try bondage for the first time. PAIRING. pretty bf!enha hyung line x pretty gf!reader GENRE. fluff, suggestive. WARNINGS. skinship, kissing, petnames, profanity, mdni

ren note ୨୧ giggles manically

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HEESEUNG

You were caught off guard when Heeseung jokingly suggested, with that mischievous glint in his eye,

“Why don’t you tie me up?” You raised an eyebrow at his playful challenge, but it was clear he didn’t expect you to take it seriously.

When you pulled out the rope later that night, his eyes widened in surprise. His teasing smirk faded, replaced with a curious mix of anticipation and disbelief as you skillfully tied intricate knots across his tanned, toned skin.

Each knot was precise, delicate, and snug. Heeseung, usually so confident, seemed shy for the first time, eyes flickering away from yours as he squirmed beneath your touch.

You stepped back to admire your work, taking in the sight of him – all tied up, blushing from head to toe, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, his jaw slackened in awe.

His gaze followed your reflection, watching you crawl up behind him on the bed.

Your kisses started gentle, teasing, brushing against his sensitive skin where you knew he needed it most. His muscles tensed under each soft touch, a soft and shaky sigh escaping him.

Heeseung turned his head just enough, it wasn’t long before he was craving more, his lips finding yours in a breathless kiss. A quiet groan vibrated from his chest, the heat between you rising as the kiss deepened.

��——

After a very interesting two hours, with many new discoveries made, you disappeared into the bathroom to freshen up, and when you returned, you couldn’t help but giggle softly at the sight before you.

Heeseung was sprawled out on the bed, ropes still snug around his limbs, his skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat, damp hair sticking to his forehead. His body was flushed where the knots had held him tight, a soft, peaceful expression on his face as he slept soundly.

You carefully began undoing the knots, fingers gentle as you worked to release him from the bindings. As you tugged playfully at the last knot, his rosebud lips, still shiny and swollen, twitched into a sleepy smile, his eyes barely fluttering open.

“Did you enjoy this?” you teased, leaning close.

Heeseung’s dreamy smile grew wider, eyes twinkling even in his sleepy state.

“Mmm,” he muttered, barely coherent, before slipping back into a peaceful slumber, the last knot falling free.

JAY

The moment Jay saw the handcuffs dangling from your fingers, he raised an eyebrow, smirking as if he knew exactly what was coming.

“Those are for you?” he teased, the playful gleam in his eyes dancing under the soft glow of the bedroom lights.

You didn’t answer right away, just letting the metallic click echo in the room as you wrapped the cuffs around his wrists, securing him to the headboard. The smirk faltered slightly, curiosity and a hint of something darker flickering in his gaze.

“Oh? This is new…” His voice dropped, filled with anticipation.

“You’d better make this worth it. And hope I don’t find a way out of these…” He challenged, his tone low and rough as you crawled up between his legs, your lips pressing a trail of kisses to his chest, making his breath hitch.

His arms strained against the cuffs, but he didn’t resist—he was all yours for now.

———

“Fuck- I- I can’t go again, baby, please—” Jay’s voice broke, his hair falling into his tear-streaked eyes.

His body trembled beneath you, hips jerking involuntarily as another wave of pleasure hit him, his third orgasm overwhelming him.

You smiled sweetly, leaning down to kiss his flushed, salty cheek as he panted, breath heavy and desperate.

“I have to make this worth it, Jay~” you whispered against his skin, watching the way his chest heaved, how his lips parted as he tried to catch his breath.

He managed to look at you, eyes glazed with exhaustion and bliss, barely holding back another moan.

“(Y/n)….” He groaned, giving a weak attempt at pulling his head away when your lips trailed across his jawline. “You’re gonna kill me…~”

“Mhm~ I know,” you purred back, wrapping your fingers around him once more, feeling his body tense at your touch.

Jay’s head fell forward, lips parting in a silent plea. You didn’t give him time to recover, pressing your lips to his in a messy, needy kiss that swallowed his moans, his body melting under yours.

For once, Jay was utterly at your mercy, and neither of you wanted it to end.

JAKE

The room was bathed in soft, warm light as Jake knelt at the foot of the bed, his eyes locked on you with a reverence that always made your heart flutter. His doe eyes, framed by lashes that any girl would envy, were filled with quiet awe as he stared up at you after pulling his sweater over his head.

You cupped his face in your hands, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his soft lips. His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, all you could see was the love in them.

Jake’s hands slid up and down your hips, his touch sending a thrill through your body, your delicate lingerie almost too much for him to handle.

You smiled down at him, knowing exactly how much he adored when you were like this—soft, in control, but with that edge he loved. Jake could melt in your hands when you had him in this kind of space, vulnerable, lazy, a little sleepy from being in control all day…

And you were no different when the roles were reversed.

You gently pushed him back down onto the bed, ready to take control, but Jake surprised you by catching your hands before they could leave his shoulders, gently kissing at your wrists and nuzzling into your palms. His lips caught between his teeth, a playful yet slightly nervous glint in his eyes.

“I wanna try something different tonight,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he glanced toward the closet.

“If that’s okay?”

Curiosity piqued, you nodded, watching as he got up and disappeared for a moment, only to return with a roll of shiny silver chains, and little heart shaped locket dangling from his fingers.

The sight made you blink, taken aback at first, but something about the trust in his eyes put you at ease. Slowly, you took the chains from him, your fingers brushing against his as he handed them over.

“I’ll talk you through it,” Jake murmured, settling back onto the bed, his breathing shallow with anticipation.

You looped the chains around his neck carefully, each movement deliberate and slow as he instructed you, his voice gentle and reassuring. The silver glinted in the soft light as you pulled the loop tight, your breath hitching when the little locket dangled from the chain, twinkling against his flushed neck.

“C-can you pull?” Jake’s voice broke through the haze, and you tilted your head, giving an experimental tug.

He let out a small, deep noise of approval, his eyes darkening with pleasure as his body responded instantly.

“Yeah,” he gasped. “Like that…”

————

The night blurred after that, a mix of sensations and whispered words between you both, Jake fully submitting to the moment. He panted beneath you, his body undone and completely at your mercy. When it was finally over, his expression was utterly wrecked, hair falling into his eyes, which were twinkling yet heavy with sleep. His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, lips parted as he tried to catch his breath.

You climbed off him carefully, removing the chain with a tenderness that hadn’t matched the intensity of the moments before, and you gasped at the little marking they left across his pretty skin.

Jake immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his face burying into your neck as if grounding himself in your warmth. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment, hearts still racing but completely at peace in each other’s presence.

“Thank you, love,” Jake whispered into your skin, his voice soft, full of gratitude and love.

SUNGHOON

Sunghoon trailed behind you as you wandered through the aisles of the craft store, half-focused on your shopping but mostly admiring the way your face lit up with every new discovery. When you suddenly stopped in the Ribbon section, his brow quirked in confusion.

“Pick some,” you instructed, holding back a smirk.

Sunghoon’s eyes blinked with surprise.

“What for?” he asked, already reaching for a thick roll of deep red silk ribbon.

You gave him a soft smile and leaned closer. “For you.”

His hand froze, eyes widening slightly as he processed your words. The crimson ribbon suddenly felt heavier in his grip, and his heartbeat quickened.

“Me?”

Now, Sunghoon sat on the bed, the silky ribbon wrapped neatly around his wrists and ankles, even his thighs and biceps, keeping him in place.

The prettiest bow sat tied perfectly around his neck, its vibrant red contrasting against his freckled, pale skin.

His breath hitched as he tried to keep his composure, but the blush creeping across his cheeks betrayed him. His head hung low in embarrassment as you straddled his lap, your fingers grazing his trembling jaw.

“You look so pretty like this, Hoon… look at me.” Your voice was gentle, teasing, and full of affection.

He rolled his eyes playfully, but when he locked gazes with you, he couldn’t look away.

“I look silly,” he muttered, his voice soft and unsure. “You should be the one like this.”

Before he could say more, you silenced him with a kiss, swallowing his bashfulness and turning it into something else entirely.

———

You pulled away from his mouth, body sore in all the right places, panting softly. Your smile was lazy and dazed as you toyed with the bow around his neck. Sunghoon’s skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes shiny and dark with desire.

He looked utterly spent, a fucked out expression like his only made your body shiver with want. There was still something swirling in his gaze—an insatiable hunger.

“Again, let’s go again,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine as he leaned forward just enough in his silky restraints to pepper your glossy skin with wet open mouth kisses.

His mind was on auto-pilot.

“One more time baby, please…~” voice rasped, his bound hands hooked around your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even a second.

You whined, leaning forward until your forehead rested against his.

“You said that three rounds ago, Hoon. I’m tired…”

But even as you protested, your hands were already sliding up his chest, fingers tracing the defined lines of his muscles. You couldn’t help it—he looked so irresistible like this.

Sunghoon smirked despite his disheveled appearance, pulling you so close it burned. He nipped and kissed feverishly at your skin, bound hands pulling and kneading as if he hadn’t tasted you in ages.

Close wasn’t close enough for a man like Sunghoon… As passionate as Sunghoon.

“Not until I say you are,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

Even bound in ribbons like the gift he was, with a love-drunk daze in his eyes, Sunghoon still had that fiery, commanding spark that kept you wanting more.

[xoami]

hihi lovely !! quick question; I’m 5teen can I read ? yes, no, maybe so :/

Hi sweetheart,

Majority of my writings will be fluff, angst, and suggestive (I rarely ever write smut.)

To state the obvious, I have no control over what you read, however I will say the following…

All of the guys are 18+, young adults.

Young adult engens are my target audience. (18+)

Usually, I will put mdni under my works I especially feel uncomfortable with those under 18 reading. (Under my suggestive content, especially.)

Again, you obviously have a phone, and an account on this app… so I have no control over you… just be mindful.

But these are all the things I want to make clear for my account.

I hope that answers your question!

- ren <3

[xoami]

I SEA YOU, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 jelly fish vs. goldfish

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, Jungwon realizes he loves you far more than the oceans he studies. PAIRING. marine bio major bf!jungwon x painting major gf!reader GENRE. fluff, friends to lovers WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing

ren note ୨୧ this was incredibly cute to write.

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Journal Entry O1: July 3rd

There’s something quietly cinematic about the way Jungwon moves through the world, his sneakers worn, frayed laces dragging against the ground, and his sea creature t-shirts thin and faded from too many washes clinging to his skin. His fingers are always curled around the strap of his camera, the weight of it a comforting presence on his chest. A worn tote bag slung over his shoulder carrying scribbled journals and books on marine life., and a different marine creature hangs from the strap on a keychain. His quiet eyes—cat-like and sharp—seem to study everything around him with an intensity he doesn’t speak aloud.

But today, like every day you’re near, his gaze rises — he notices you. You sit on a sun-warmed bench, sketchbook balanced on your knee, your hand lost in a flurry of movements. Y/N, a painting major, a dreamer. You wear flowy skirts that swish gently with the breeze, intricate crochet tops that speak of warmth and softness, your belly piercing always peeking out under the sun. You were always surrounded by a halo of color — paint smudged on your hands, your cheeks, even a few streaks on your pretty clothes.

Today, you were sketching jellyfish. And today, Jungwon feels the courage, unlike most days to approach. Without thinking, shy and hesitant, yet driven by something he doesn’t quite understand.

“Jellyfish actually have...,” his voice is soft as his finger hovers over your sketchbook., correcting a tiny detail with a shy shake of his head. You pause, you blink, and you smile too, wide and beautiful. A beautiful, full smile that makes Jungwon’s heart stumble in his chest. You change the drawing without hesitation, based on his correction, like it mattered to you.

You think he’s cute. Jungwon thinks You’re breathtaking.

⋆｡°✩🪼

Journal Entry O2: July 5th

You cross paths again, in that unintentional, serendipitous way two people bound by an invisible string tend to do.

In the bustling hallway, Jungwon notices you first, again — catching sight of the familiar sway of your lacy skirt. The soft yellow paint smudge on your cheek standing out like a tiny splash of life in the world around you. You notices him too, this time, catching sight of the new little keychain that hangs from his bag. A dolphin.

You say nothing at first, only stare at him until he feels your eyes on him. With the gentleness of someone handling glass, he reaches out and brushes the paint off your cheek with the pad of his thumb, pulling away just as fast. He doesn’t say a word. He never does. He never knows what to say, but your smile says enough for the both of you. Your eyes drop to his bag, noticing the dolphin keychain.

You exchange no words, but in that quiet moment, Jungwon feels a connection forming, like the pull of the tide. His eyes seem to soften, studying you not as something distant, but something he could grow closer to.

⋆｡°✩🐙

Journal Entry O3: July 7th

“Tell me an ocean fact.”

Your voice comes with the breeze, fluttering toward him as he sits alone on the stone wall, camera resting in his lap. Jungwon lifts his eyes, squinting against the sun, startled, and just… stares. His mouth opens, then closes. He can’t seem to find any words. The moment lingers awkwardly, but you just laugh, a light sound like wind chimes, and walks away with a wave.

He feels embarrassed, even hours later, as the memory of your request gnaws at him. He should have said something. Thinking of all the ocean facts he knows, which would you find the coolest? He wanted to be cool to you.

The next day, as you leave your class, Jungwon catches you by the sleeve.

“Squids have three hearts…” His words are rushed, awkward, but earnest, and he holds up three fingers as if to demonstrate.

You’re stunned. He’s scared. His chocolate orbs were blown wide, studying your reaction with nervous intensity. Your eyes light up, and you find it adorable that he remembered to tell you a simple fact — and that he had chased you down to share it.

Before walking away, he reaches into his tote bag and pulls out something small. A squid keychain. It dangles from his fingers, delicate and clear.

“For you,” he murmurs, his cheeks flushed as he hands it to you. You take it with a soft thank you, attaching it to your own bag immediately.

When you look up, he’s gone again.

Jungwon feels something warm unfurling in his chest.

⋆｡°✩🐬

Journal Entry O4: July 9th

Jungwon doesn’t talk much, but he begins to open up to you, little by little.. You talk enough for both of you. Your stories spill out like paint from a tube, vivid and chaotic. But somehow you're still always charming.

And he listens, smiling quietly to himself as you walk across campus, or when you walk together after class, the squid keychain now dangling from your bag. He likes listening as you speak with your hands. Your hands always smudged with paint, your sketchbook always bulging with papers and doodles. You always lead the conversation with ease.

Always…

One day, as you sit together on the grass, Jungwon notices that you smell like lavender and something sweet, while you notice that Jungwon smells faintly of citrus, and that his soft sandy locks catch the sun in a way that makes your heart stutter.

You like the way he stares out at the world, thoughtful and observant, always just a little bit removed but never distant. Jungwon likes the way your lips curl when you laugh, full and soft, your joy infectious. He likes the way your hands are always working on something creative, bringing beauty into the world with every stroke of your pencil or brush.

He finds himself wanting to be part of your world, even if it means just quietly standing by your side.

⋆｡°✩ 🦀

Journal Entry O5: July 10th

The aquarium was Jungwon’s idea, though he mumbled the invitation, unsure of how to ask.

“Want to go to the aquarium?”

The question came unexpectedly one afternoon, as you parted ways after class. His voice is small, barely there, but you hear it. You always hear him… You say yes. He’s surprised you said yes.

You wander the quiet halls of the aquarium. You walk in silence at first, but it’s the comfortable kind, your pinkies brushing every so often until, near the shark exhibit, Jungwon’s fingers finally curl around yours and you both look straight ahead into the glass covered ocean before you.

Later, under the glass bridge, where the ocean swirls above you, Jungwon kisses you, soft and hesitant, his lips barely brushing yours before he pulls away, cheeks burning. You blush too, but he chases your lips for another taste, a quiet desperation in his eyes that makes your heart leap.

Even later, you kiss again in secret, more firm this time, hidden by the dim light of the jellyfish tanks, your glowing forms casting an ethereal light on your flushed faces.

Jungwon decides he likes kissing you.

You decide you like being kissed by Jungwon.

⋆｡°✩ 🐠

Journal Entry O6: July 12th

Your dates are small and sweet. You bring him to the museum, where you explain the brushstrokes of paintings with the same enthusiasm Jungwon has for sea creatures. Jungwon listens, his eyes always observing, always studying you as you talk, as if memorizing every detail of your face.

In turn, he takes you to the beach, where you roll up your skirt and Jungwon, his pants, splashing through the shallow waves like kids. You kiss in the sand, salt on your lips and in your hair, your head resting on his chest as you lie under the vast sky.

One afternoon, you visit the pet store. A tiny goldfish catches Jungwon’s eye, its golden scales glittering under the light. You watch him, the way he presses his hands to the glass, his eyes wide with wonder. Without thinking twice, he buys the fish, and you bring it to his home together, its little bowl nestled in Jungwon’s arms.

⋆｡°✩ 🦑

Journal Entry O7: July 14th

In his new apartment, you spend afternoons tangled together on his mattress on the floor, you doodle little fish on Jungwon’s arm, your pen gliding over his skin in lazy strokes while he lies back on the thin sheets, watching you with soft eyes. The fan whirs above you, your thin clothes sticking to your skin as the summer heat seeps through the open window.

“I believe in mermaids,” he whispers one day, his voice barely audible over the fan as he rests his head on the plushness of your thighs, staring up at you like the stars in the sky.

You turn from the window, head down to look at him, curious.

“I think you’re a mermaid.”

Your lips part in surprise before breaking into a grin. And for the first time, you lean down to kiss him, with all the gentleness of the tide washing over the shore, your hand cupping his cheek. Jungwon’s heart swells in his chest…

Jungwon loves you.

And you, you love Jungwon too.

[xoami]

You know that post where enhypen was giving reader the silent treatment? What if you do the same, but they pass through ever advance you try making and they hear you crying about it and they talk to you first.

I like it!!

I think I’ll do mini excerpts as different alternate endings of sorts, for each member of course. <3

How’s that sound?

- ren

[xoami]

SPOILED, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 as expected, you came back

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, as toxic as it may be, Ni-ki has you wrapped around his finger… and you like it. PAIRING. Toxic Rockstar!Ni-ki x Supermodel!Reader GENRE. Suggestive, comedy, fluff (?) WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, toxic relationship, cheating

ren note ୨୧ I actually enjoyed writing this one.

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The morning light spilled through Ni-ki’s floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow.

You lay still, wrapped in tangled sheets, the quiet hum of the city below contrasting the chaotic thoughts in your head. The mattress on the floor gave the place a raw, unfinished feel, much like your relationship with him — if you could even call it that.

Ni-ki was too cocky for his own good. You were no better for stroking his ego. He could say the same thing about you. He liked your attitude, your snap, the way you could flick of paparazzi with no care in the world, the way your smoky eyes pierced the cameras with every runway you stepped onto.

You liked the rush. How unpredictable his behavior could be. The way he found your eyes in the crowed at every concert he had, the way he’d lick his lips as he held your gaze, his fingers still effortlessly working his guitar knowing you wished it were you. The curious pit in your stomach whenever you were escorted backstage without him texting you first…

You’d kiss, rushed and rough, bruising each other and leaving marks for later days to come… only where no one could see of course. Then you’d fight, and you’d go back to your boyfriend leaving Ni-ki wanting more, and also knowing you’d be back to give it to him.

You knew Ni-ki had cut off every other female in the game for you, going from his usual routine of bringing home the hottest idols and actresses for the night, to now blowing up your phone when his jeans got too tight.

Call it magic.

You never asked him to do that though, so you handled him accordingly… like a fan. That was until you quickly realized you wanted him too… so bad.

Leaving you where you are now.

With a sigh, you shifted, your gaze drawn to the skyline. It was moments like this that made everything feel so surreal.

Ni-ki stirred beside you, groaning softly as he rolled over. You glanced at him briefly — his dark bangs fell over his eyes, lips pouting, the edges of his face still carrying the softness of sleep. He looked unfairly pretty in the morning, the kind of pretty that made it hard to think straight.

Before you could get lost in those thoughts, he moved closer, the warmth of his body immediately enveloping yours. You felt his lips press gently to your back, the soft trail of kisses making your skin tingle. He traced the lines of the moon phases that ran down your spine, and you shivered at the intimacy of it.

“Ni-ki,” you whispered, voice heavy with reluctance. “I really need to go soon.”

“Don’t…” His breath was hot against your skin. “Stay here.”

You closed your eyes, heart battling your mind.

“I wish I could. But we had an agreement, Ki. And Jake—”

Ni-ki cut you off, his lips brushing against your shoulder where a cluster of inked flowers lay.

“I don’t give a damn about your boyfriend,” he muttered, voice low and dark. “He can have you when I’m done.”

A weight settled in your chest as you let your head fall forward. You could already feel him pulling you under again, his body pressing you down, the heat between you two simmering, all-consuming. It was too much.

Toxic. You knew that...

You opened your mouth to protest, your boyfriend’s name barely leaving your lips again until he groaned, rolling off of you and burying his face under a pillow, frustration seeping from him.

“Fuck, (Y/n)… aren’t you bored yet?”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, your voice sharper than you intended.

“I never said I was leaving him. You know that…”

Ni-ki sat up, running a hand through his hair, messy bangs falling back into his eyes.

“Alright… fine, I’ll leave you two alone.” His tone was mocking, careless.

You hated how easily he could get under your skin.

As you pulled the sheets tighter around yourself, standing to gather your clothes, he stood too, slipping into his gray sweats.

“Stop it! You always do this, Ni-ki,” you said, frustration boiling over. “Stop acting like you think I’ll choose you—”

He cut you off, wandering the room as his eyes gleamed with that familiar defiance.

“Oh, shut up. Look around, baby. You’re in my apartment, not his.”

The truth stung. You frowned, tugging his oversized shirt over your bare skin, trying to shield yourself from the cold and the reality of his words. You hurried to collect your things, your voice laced with anger.

“You’re such an asshole.”

He smirked, leaning casually against the doorway, watching you with those piercing eyes that always saw through you.

“That’s my shirt.”

“Shut up!” You snapped, pulling on your shorts with an exasperated huff.

The tension in the air was palpable, but as you stormed toward the door, he followed, that smirk never leaving his lips.

“I’ll walk you to the car,” he teased, trailing after you.

You stopped in your tracks, whirling around to glare at him, flipping him off. “No. Fuck off, jerk.”

But before you could reach for the doorknob, Ni-ki caught you, pulling you into a back hug, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

His voice, still rough from sleep, whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll see you this weekend?”

You squirmed, trying to resist the pull he had on you, but your body betrayed you, knees weak under his hold.

“Whatever…” you muttered, already defeated.

Ni-ki grinned against your hair, finally letting you go, the victory clear in his eyes as he watched you leave.

And as you stepped out into the cool morning air, the weight of your choices pressing down on you, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep letting him pull you back in.

Nishimura Ri-ki was too spoiled for his own good.