#enhypen sfw

[stariekis]

a room for two

🛋️ pairing : 엔하이픈 ot7 + gn!reader . genre : fluff . cw : kisses + skinship

— synopsis : visiting their room for the first time <3

— note : finally i had the inspiration to write smt 🙌🏻 sorry for being inactive lately babies but here you have more ot7 content ! hope you enjoy reading it, as always reposts and feedback are so welcome <3 sending the biggest kiss ^3^

heeseung :

we all know how big of a gamer he is so i know that he would have one of those professional gamer set ups in his room, the one that streamers usually have. and, as he has shown us, he collect figures too so a big shelf full of them is a must in his room. — 'this is were i spend most of my time' he said, sitting on his chair — 'now i know where you are when you don't answer my text am i right?' you answered, joking obviously. he rolled his eyes at your comment, taking you hand on his and making you sit on his lap, his hands now resting on you thighs. you admired his room, he didn't have a lot of decoration but it was so like him. — 'i think i like your room more than mine, i might come over more' you said turning to him. he giggled at your comment, you just made him the happiest boy ever. pecking your lips he answered — 'you are more than welcome doll' giving you another kiss, this one lasting more than the other one you both just shared.

jay :

i've always imagine him having the tidiest room ever. but, because it was the first time sleeping with you, he wanted his room to look ten times better. he cleaned everything up, light up candles and changed his sheets, it needs to be perfect. when you entered his room for the first time you were welcomed by the coziest room you've ever been, the aroma of vanilla flooded your nose —'you like it love?' jay said, standing on the door frame while looking at your curious figure eyeing up his room. — 'hope you do because you will spend a lot of time here from now on' he was now hugging your waist from behind. — 'i like that idea actually' you answer him, receiving a kiss on your neck from him.

jake :

his room was, to your surprise, very organized. you thought that his room would be kind of messy but everything was perfectly placed, not a single dust speck visible. — 'don't be fooled, his room is not always this tidy' you heard jay say as he passed in front of jake's room — 'WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT MAN' he shouted stepping out of his room, hearing jay laugh down the hallway right after. taking his arm and pulling him inside again you hold both of his hands — 'baby it's fine, i wouldn't mind at all' you pecked his pouty lips, he didn't want you to know (even though you would end up discovering it, but not know at least) — 'now that you know my secret i don't have to clean every time, is tiring you know?' grabbing you by the waist he lifted you off the ground and sat the both of you on his bed, spending the rest of the day in each other's embrace.

sunghoon :

he would have the most minimalist room out of them. lots of framed pics perfectly placed on his walls — 'you took all of them?' you said sitting on his desk chair, they were the first thing that caught your attention — 'each and every one of them yeah' a smile plastered on his face as he answered your question, feeling proud that you liked his pics that much. you turned around on his chair now facing him who was sitting in his bed with his camera on his hand — 'wait baby i want to take a picture of you stay there' you smile at the camera, the flash appearing right after —'why do you want a picture of me here hoon?' you asked him, getting up from his chair and making your way towards him, standing in between his open legs. he put his camera aside and grabbed your hips looking up at you — 'because i like to take pictures of pretty views and you are the prettiest one i've ever seen'.

sunoo :

i just know that sunoo would have tons of cute plushies on his bed ): so as soon as you opened the door you were welcomed by a pile of plushie on top of his bed — 'you put them away when you sleep right?' you said, he looked at you with a shocked expression — 'no i don't, how could you say something like that?' your expression changed into a shocked one — 'how are we going to fit in your bed then my love?' you said putting your hand on you hips while looking at his bed. — we will make it work don't worry' he concluded, smiling at you. the next morning you found all of his beloved "friends" on the floor, a reminder to put them aside the next time.

jungwon :

like sunoo i thing he might have tons of plushie on top of his bed, mostly fan gifts. when you entered his room and saw all the cat plushies you smiled turning towards him — 't-they are not mine they are from jay i'm just keeping them here... yeah' you laugh at his reaction, sitting on his bed and taking one on you hand you out it next to you boyfriend's face — 'they look like you thought' he took from your hands the plushie and looked at him with a smile adoring his face. sitting next to you in his bed he looked at you, sighing — 'you didn't believe it right?' you shook your head hearing him laugh as he lay on his bed, you followed right after. — 'but having that many plushie of yourself is a bit self-centered don't you think' you jokingly said, looking at his side profile. he pinched your side while mouthing a 'shut up', hearing you giggling right after.

ni-ki :

he would be a nervous wreck my baby </3 and i know for a fact that he would hide all his plushie in his closet so you won't see them, he thought that you might find it ridiculous. the idea was fine at first but his secret was soon to be discovered when you opened his wardrobe and a tiny duck plushie felt in front of you. he was laying on his bad looking at his phone so he didn't realize what just happened. you made your way towards him with the little duck on your hand — 'this is so cute why was him on your closet' he looked up from his phone but as soon as he made eye contact with the thing on your hands he rolled on his back and hid his face on his hands — 'you weren't supposed to see that babe' laughing at him you sat down on top of him putting the stuffed animal up in his face telling him how similar they were. a long night was ahead for the both of you.

[hazelira]

respawned feelings

The sound of rapid keystrokes and the occasional frustrated grunt filled the room as Jay sat at his desk, wholly engrossed in his game. You huffed, arms crossed, sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs tucked under you. Today was supposed to be unique—Valentine’s Day—and Jay had his headset on instead of spending it with you, barking commands to his members through the mic.

“Dude, push mid—no, not that way! Are you serious?” he groaned, tilting his head back in frustration. His focus was entirely on the screen, unaware of how your brows furrowed deeper by the second.

You rolled your eyes. Enough was enough.

Rising to your feet, you walked over and plopped onto his lap, legs draping over his thighs. The sudden shift made his chair roll back slightly, but Jay barely reacted, only shifting his hands on the keyboard to make space for you.

“What are you doing, baby?” he mumbled absentmindedly, eyes never leaving his screen.

You let out a small, annoyed huff, fingers playing with the silver chain around his neck. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” you muttered.

Jay chuckled, still not fully paying attention to you. “I do like to know. That’s why I’m asking.”

You let the incredible metal glide between your fingers before wrapping them around the chain, giving it a little tug, just enough for him to feel it. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. That got his attention.

“What’s up with you today?” he finally turned his head slightly, but his fingers remained on the keyboard.

Your lips pursed. “Oh, nothing. Just my boyfriend choosing his PC over me on Valentine’s Day.”

Jay exhaled through his nose, his free hand finding your waist to hold you steady. “Baby, you know it’s just one match—”

“Four. You said that three matches ago.”

He bit his lip, caught in the act. “Okay, maybe I got a little carried away…”

Your fingers tightened around his chain, pulling him closer, your faces now inches apart. His breath hitched, eyes flickering from your gaze to your lips. The tension in the air shifted. You weren’t just sulking anymore—you were challenging him.

Jay’s fingers hesitated on the keyboard, his teammates yelling in his headset barely registering in his mind. “Y/N…” his voice dropped, deeper, more strained.

You tilted your head, lips curling. “Yes, Jongseongie?”

That was it. His patience snapped.

In one swift movement, he abandoned his game, yanking his headset off and grabbing your waist with both hands. Your breath hitched as he pulled you flush against him, your noses barely brushing. And then, he kissed you.

It wasn’t a soft, gentle peck. It was deep, desperate, filled with the longing of hours spent ignoring what he truly wanted—you. His lips moved against yours with purpose, claiming, savouring, devouring. One of his hands slid up to your nape, fingers threading into your hair as he tilted your head to kiss you even more profoundly.

You melted into him, a soft sigh escaping your lips as your hands let go of his chain, slipping into his hair instead. The game, his teammates, Valentine’s Day resentment—none mattered anymore.

Jay finally pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed heavily. “I’m so dumb.”

You giggled, still breathless. “Yeah, you are.”

He smirked, his thumb brushing against your swollen lips. “I can make it up to you.”

You arched a brow. “How?”

Jay leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Starting with turning off my PC… and then focusing on what matters.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Took you long enough.”

Jay chuckled, standing up with you still in his arms, carrying you to the bed. “I’ll make up for every second.”

And he did.

requested by anonymous | anyways happy love day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my perm taglist<3 <- request here

@seonhoon @dollrincess @ethanatvre @rei4sunoo @shxhdsstuff @jakeflvrz @laylasbunbunny @jiiyen @saphiranishimurashan @lovelycassy @starry-eyed-bimbo @babyboomysweetie @24svnn @pinkglitterpuke @mellowgalaxystrawberry @dolliewon @s1rawb3rry @freaky-enhamadswriter @aishigrey @yangjungwonnie @lilmarsh-t @hoseokteardrop @mrsjjongstby @ro-diaries @ijustwannareadstuff20 @leilamaybelyla @celestialen @yejisuu @kpopslays @berryberrystrawbery @jungwon101 @luvleyylina @starbyeol1512 @teddybeartaetae

[sunrenity]

girlfriend (ask you out!) ✶ enhypen

s  —  how they would ask you to be their girlfriend (or ask you out).

p  enhypen ot7 x fem!reader  .  g  fluff, high school au  .  wc  1806 (1.8k)  .  bookshelf

꒰ ☕ ꒱ note — help i did NOT intend it to be this long...

이희승ㅤ✦ㅤlee heeseung

the school courtyard was a picturesque sight with the sun setting low in the sky. its warm golden rays lent an ethereal glow to the surroundings, making everything look more beautiful than ever. heeseung had been mustering up the courage to approach you all day, but his heart was filled with trepidation at the mere thought of asking you out.

as lunch break approached, heeseung's eyes darted around in search of you. there you were, sitting alone at a picnic table, engrossed in a book. the sight of you took his breath away, and he felt his heart race faster than ever before.

taking a deep breath, he walked over to you, his heart pounding. he cleared his throat lightly to get your attention and said, "hey, y/n," rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "i was wondering... would you like to go out with me sometime?"

you looked up, surprised but smiling. "sure, heeseung. i'd love to," you replied warmly.

his face lit up with a grin, and he let out a relieved sigh. "great, i'll text you," he said, feeling a wave of happiness wash over him.

rest of the members under the cut!

박종성ㅤ✦ㅤpark jay

jay had always been a confident person, but when it came to you, his heart raced a mile a minute. he had a major crush on you, and he knew that he had to use all his charm and music skills to win you over.

one afternoon, after the school ended, as you were in the school's music room, he approached you with his guitar in hand. the sun was shining, casting a golden glow on his face as he started playing a soft melody. his fingers moved expertly over the strings, and his voice blended beautifully with the chords. you were taken aback by his talent, and the way he looked at you while playing made your heart skip a beat.

as he finished the song, jay looked at you with hopeful eyes. you could see the nervousness on his face as he waited for your response. you were touched by his gesture and a smile spread across your face. "so, what do you say, y/n? will you be my girlfriend?" he asked.

you laughed, feeling warmth spreading through you at his words. you had secretly hoped that he would ask you out, and his romantic serenade had won your heart. "of course, jay," you replied, unable to contain your excitement.

his smile widened, and he pulled you into a tight hug, guitar and all. you could feel his happiness and relief as he held you close. it was a moment you would never forget, and the beginning of a beautiful relationship filled with music, laughter, and love.

심재윤ㅤ✦ㅤsim jake

jake had put together an enchanting surprise for you, fully aware of your fondness for the great outdoors and the natural world. he led you to a secluded, idyllic spot in the school garden, where the air was redolent with the fragrance of blooming flowers.

the entire area was bedecked with twinkling fairy lights, lending an ethereal charm to the already magical surroundings. you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment as you took in the beauty of the place.

as you walked hand in hand, he stopped and turned to face you, his cheeks flushed but his eyes determined.

"y/n, spending time with you is always amazing," he began, his voice sincere. "i was hoping we could make it official. will you be my girlfriend?"

you nodded, feeling your heart swell with happiness. "yes, jake, i'd love to."

jake's face lit up with joy as he pulled you into a warm embrace. he leaned in and gave you a gentle, yet passionate kiss under the twinkling fairy lights. the moment was perfect, and you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be in jake's arms, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the magic of love.

박성훈ㅤ✦ㅤpark sunghoon

sunghoon had been paying close attention to your interests and hobbies, and he noticed that you both share a love for ice skating. so, he decided to plan a special and romantic evening around it. he went ahead and reserved a private time slot at the local ice rink, and made sure that the twinkling lights were set up to create a magical atmosphere.

as you stepped onto the ice, sunghoon took your hand, and you began to glide across the rink. you both laughed and chatted, enjoying each other's company as you skated around the rink. sunghoon was an excellent skater, and he guided you expertly, making sure you felt safe and comfortable.

the atmosphere was magical, and the lights created a dreamy ambiance that made you feel like you were in a fairy tale. as you skated around the rink, sunghoon's affection for you grew stronger. he felt a sense of warmth and happiness in his heart, grateful to share this special moment with you.

after a particularly fun spin, sunghoon led you to the center of the rink. his cheeks were flushed from the cold, but his eyes were warm with emotion. "y/n, spending time with you on the ice feels like a dream," he confessed, holding your hands gently. "i was hoping... would you like to go out with me and uhm... be my girlfriend?"

touched by his thoughtful gesture and the magical evening he had planned, you nodded with a smile. "yes, sunghoon, i'd be happy to."

his smile widened, and he pulled you into a tender kiss, feeling a sense of happiness and contentment that warmed him from the inside out. he was grateful for this beautiful moment and the opportunity to share it with you.

김선우ㅤ✦ㅤkim sunoo

sunoo had been planning a thoughtful and romantic gesture to confess his feelings for you. he knew you appreciated the little things, so he decided to create a special evening just for the two of you on the school's rooftop, where he had set up a small picnic with your favorite snacks, drinks, and soft blankets to keep you warm.

as you arrived, the soft glow of fairy lights illuminated the area, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere. sunoo greeted you with a warm smile, his eyes shining with excitement and nervousness.

"y/n, i've really enjoyed getting to know you," he began, guiding you to the picnic spot. "i wanted to create a special evening where we could spend time together and talk."

you settled down on the blankets, enjoying the serene atmosphere and the breathtaking view of the city skyline. as you chatted and laughed together, sunoo's feelings for you grew stronger, and he knew it was time to share his true feelings.

taking a deep breath, he turned to face you, his eyes filled with emotion. "y/n, every moment with you has been incredible," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "i've been wanting to ask you something... would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

touched by his heartfelt confession, the effort he had put into planning the evening, and the genuine connection you felt with him, you nodded with a smile. "yes, sunoo, i'd be happy to."

he beamed, pulling you into a warm hug, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.

양정원ㅤ✦ㅤyang jungwon

valentine's day was approaching, and jungwon had been thinking of the perfect way to confess his feelings to you. you two had been classmates for a while, sharing a few conversations here and there that left him wanting to get to know you better.

he decided to create a personalized valentine's day card for you, filled with heartfelt messages and memories of your time together. he waited until the end of the day to give it to you, finding a quiet moment when you were alone.

"y/n, i've been wanting to tell you something for a while now," he started, handing you the carefully crafted card. "i've really enjoyed our conversations and getting to know you."

you opened the card, your eyes widening as you read his heartfelt words and saw the memories he had captured. as you finished reading, you looked up to find jungwon watching you, his eyes filled with hope and sincerity.

"y/n, every moment with you has been special," he continued, his voice soft and sincere. "i was hoping we could take the next step. will you be my girlfriend?"

touched by his thoughtful gesture and the effort he had put into making valentine's day memorable, you nodded with a smile. "yes, jungwon, i'd love to."

he smiled, his heart swelling with happiness as he pulled you into a tender embrace, feeling grateful and overjoyed to have you as his girlfriend, marking the beginning of a beautiful relationship filled with understanding and affection.

西村力ㅤ✦ㅤnishimura riki

riki had been dreaming of confessing his feelings for you for a long time. he wanted to make sure that it would be a special moment that you would never forget. after thinking about it for a while, he came up with the perfect plan. he knew how much you loved shopping, so he decided to create a shopping day just for the two of you.

riki did his research and made a list of all your favorite stores. he planned out a route, making sure to include all the places that you loved. he invited you to spend the day with him, starting with brunch at your favorite cafe and then moving on to a day filled with shopping and exploring the city.

as you visited each store, riki watched you with admiration, enjoying seeing you happy and excited. he loved the way your eyes lit up when you saw something you liked and the way you would excitedly tell him about the latest fashion trends. he was mesmerized by your beauty and the way you carried yourself with such grace.

as the day went on, riki realized how much he enjoyed spending time with you and how much he wanted to take your relationship to the next level. taking a deep breath, he turned to face you, his cheeks flushed but his eyes filled with determination.

"y/n, i've had an amazing time with you today," he began, his voice soft and sincere. "i've been wanting to ask you something... would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

touched by his thoughtful gesture, the effort he had put into planning the day, and the genuine connection you felt with him, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. you nodded with a smile, feeling grateful to have found someone so caring and thoughtful.

his face lit up with a radiant smile, and he pulled you into a tender embrace, feeling on top of the world as he held you close. it was a moment that neither of you would ever forget, and the beginning of a beautiful relationship filled with love and joy.

© sunrenity , don't plagiarize, steal or repost my work on any platform !

[bearseulgs]

I Won't Love You (or will I?) listen to: I Never Planned On You - Newsies masc!prince!reader x prince!sunoo genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, royalty, arranged marriage wc: 608 warnings: male reader (fem version here)

Oh God, not again, you thought, spotting him of all people across the dance floor. Sunoo had the same sour expression on his face, but made his way over to you anyways. "A dance, prince Y/N?" he asked, a mocking lilt in his voice.

You should probably explain how you got into this situation. Your parents decided to host a ball at the Kims' castle as both families had an announcement to make. What that announcement is, well, they decided to tell everyone in the staff but not their kids.

"Do you know what this is even for?" Well at least you aren't the only one who's confused.

"No, nor do I care to tell you when i find out."

Sunoo let out a sigh of exasperation, rolling his eyes at you. "Come on, prince, I don't want anything to do with you either, but work with me here."

Ouch. That one kind of hurt. You know you tended to put on a front, but you still wanted Sunoo to care for you like you cared for him. Though that seemed a tad irrational, you supposed, seeing as you never let it on that you didn't actually completely despise him.

"Now about that dance, prince. What do you say?"

Building up your front again, you looked away. He was about to leave when you stuck your hand out. "I suppose… one dance won't hurt, hm?" You couldn't hide your smirk when you saw his eyes light up.

One dance turned into four, then nine, then you lost track as you danced the night away with Sunoo. But no, you didn't actually like him, not that anyone knew anyways. You could both agree on your disdain for each other, but no one would have guessed that you were anything but in love as you danced. And somehow, you didn't hate that idea.

Before long, trumpets sounded, and everyone turned their attention to the front of the ballroom to listen to the royal families' announcement.

King L/N started, "Now, we've been meaning to become closer with our neighboring kingdom, and we also acknowledge that prince Y/N is coming of age and should marry soon."

Oh no, please don't father. You really hoped this wasn't going where you thought it was. Or at least, you kind of hoped.

"Prince Sunoo is also nearing the time when he needs to take over reign, and we thought that the perfect idea would be to join our kingdoms together. We would like to announce the marriage of the Kim and L/N families through prince Sunoo and prince Y/N," King Kim finished.

The whole room erupted in cheers, but your attention was only on Sunoo, who looked over at you with a nervous yet excited expression.

Making your way back over to the prince's side, you look at the floor, shuffling your heels a bit. "Well, it looks like this won't be our last dance."

"Yeah, I was hoping it wouldn't be." You looked up in shock. It seems that he hadn't meant to say that out loud, but you were glad he did.

Since it seemed he didn't want to say anything else, you took a chance, and said, "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not that upset about the marriage." Your gaze stayed on his face, gauging his reaction.

A blush painted Sunoo's features as he looked back at you. "You know what, I'm not either." And with that he looked at your lips and leaned in.

Maybe, just maybe, you loved prince Sunoo, and with the way he was kissing you, maybe he loved you too.

a/n: first masc gendered fic: done!

©️bearseulgs 2024

[rawrki]

Warmth

pairing boyfriend!sunghoon x gn!reader genre fluff! cuddling and kisses

word count 424

a/n i'm really not a writer so i don't get writing inspo often sorry i'm so inactive but rn i am feeling so soft for sunghoon rn his bread cheeks and his dimple and his bright smilebfjhdjhejfhjf so here's a little drabble

Warmth. As you lay in Sunghoon's arms all you feel is warmth. His strong arms that pick you up and hold you have become the cosiest place to be in. You look up at him from where your fave was tucked into his chest to see him already looking at you with a fond look in his eyes. His dimple made an appearance as you stared at him, causing him to break out into his familiar grin.

"Hi," he giggles as he nuzzles his nose against yours, an action that fills you with love and affection.

"Hi," you smile back at him, your cheeks hurting from how big the smile he induced is. Just a simple action made your heart leap and your stomach burst into butterflies. Despite the two of you being together for more than a year, you still find yourself head over heels for him and falling harder for him with each passing day. By the enraptured look on his face as he gazes at you with a soft smile, you can tell that Sunghoon feels the same way.

"I love you so much," he murmurs into your hair, as if his actions weren't enough to let you know. You look up again to give him a kiss on the cheek in response, closing your eyes as he returns your kiss by kissing you on the lips. Before you could say anything, he began to leave light kisses all over your face, making you burst into giggles as you try to push him away to reciprocate his words, to no avail.

"Hey! That tickles," you struggle to push him away while laughing. When you finally manage to get away from his kiss attack, you squash his cheeks between both of your hands and repeat his words back to him as you rest your forehead against his. His face is once again illuminated with a huge smile and his eyes turn into crescents. You think that this is your favourite Sunghoon and you vow in your head to make sure he is always this happy.

"Y/n you're my cutie patootie pookie wookie dookie little pumpkin sweetie pie," he sighs dramatically with an over-exaggerated lovesick expression on his face. You sigh. And just like that, Park Sunghoon has broken the quiet peaceful atmosphere you were enjoying. It was your turn to smother him with kisses to shut him up. Even though he was weird sometimes and says strange things you still loved him. You wouldn't exchange these moments for anything in the world.

[senascoop]

TIED UP IN YOU , N.RK !

﹙ 🍫 ﹚ ぃ ──── THIS MIGHT SOUND CRAZY BUT TRUST ME IT'S TRUE!

PAIRING : phone guy ! riki × student ! afab reader

SYNOPSIS : Niki was a good guy, no doubt about it. The only problem? He was your phone. How, exactly, did your phone transform into this strikingly handsome guy? It was baffling, frustrating, and, honestly, a bit overwhelming. Here you were, trying to navigate a world where your device had somehow become a charming, infuriatingly attractive human being. And to make matters worse, he was as stubborn and endearing as any person you'd ever met.

GENRE : fluff + crack

WARNING(S) : I don't really think there's any aside from mentions of period and blood in the start, kissing (can be slightly suggestive) and a possible sad ending but if there's more—please lmk.

WORD COUNT : 15.9K

MORE LIKE THIS? ┊ MASTERLIST

NOTE FROM SENA , it's been exactly two months since i’ve actually written a fic from the dreamscape series lol (but I'll make sure to write the other ones too!!) even a little feedback really fuels me—it doesn't necessarily have to be appreciation, it's okay for it to be constructive criticism. Also, happy birthday to our dearest maknae riki 🫶🏻💕

YOU HATE THIS.

You hate everything about it: the constant ache in your lower abdomen, the bloating that makes you uncomfortable, and worst of all, the emotional chaos you're forced to go through while navigating the constant tension your family adds to your life. It's almost too much. Almost.

Stepping into the bathroom, you peel off your bloodied underwear with a groan. This feels just another battle in a war you are losing. The step forward into the shower brings down upon your body warm water flowing. It streams down along your back and legs carrying away the last drops of blood. For that one instant, it soothes all the pain, but not for long.

You press your palms flat against the cool tiles of the wall, leaning forward as the steam rises around you. “Why can't one thing be easy?” you mutter, your voice barely audible over the rush of water.

The thought of your so-called friends creeps into your mind. Friends? you scoff internally. They aren't friends. They're just people who keep you around to have someone to poke fun at, and you? Too naïve, too hopeful, let them.

Your school's anti-bullying policy flashes across your mind next. What a joke. The only time they ever step in is when someone like you stands up to the bullies. It's infuriating.

With a disgusted huff, you twist the shower handle, dialing up the heat until the water is near-scalding. For an instant, the burn feels even slightly more pleasing than the general dull ache throughout your body. But that comfort loses itself too soon as well as the water becomes unbearable (too hot) to touch. “Great,” you say sarcastically and twist the knob off entirely.

The bathroom is silent except for the sporadic drip of the faucet. You take a towel and dab at yourself slowly, deliberatively drying yourself. You wince as your clothes touch your sore skin but continue through the motions nonetheless.

You then walk into the counter, reach in for the pack of pads, and pull one out. You stare at it for a moment before letting out a deep breath. The thought of using tampons crosses your mind. You shudder. Some things are just too much of a hassle to consider: the fumbling with the applicator before inserting something. You shake your head, muttering “Not for me,” place the pad carefully in a fresh pair of underwear you slip on, and feel familiar, slightly cushioned comfort.

The next comes the outfit. Half-day at school, of course means no uniforms—but, in keeping with the school's dress code, naturally. You rifle through your closet before settling on the usual choice: oversized, baggy. So comfortable. So practical. How can some of those girls make such a racket and carry themselves about in what would have otherwise been flashy, tight clothes? How do they manage to study?

As you pull the hoodie over your head, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. For a moment, you pause, taking in the faint puffiness under your eyes and the dull expression on your face. You look tired. No, you look exhausted. You let out a sigh as you run a hand through your damp hair, tying it into a loose ponytail.

As you step out of the bathroom, still adjusting your hoodie, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. There’s a man—a complete stranger—sitting casually on your bed like he owns the place. Your first instinct is to scream, but the sheer absurdity of his presence silences you momentarily. He looks…naive, almost harmless, as if he hasn't just committed a blatant act of breaking and entering.

But harmless or not, he’s still a stranger in your room. Your instincts kick in, and you grab the closest thing within reach—a dusty second-grade participation trophy your sister once won. You don’t care about the trophy. It’s been collecting cobwebs for years, and if it breaks while bashing in this intruder's head, so be it.

With the makeshift weapon clutched tightly in your hand, you take a step toward him. He notices, his head tilting slightly, and for a brief second, confusion flashes across his face. He raises his hands, palms out in surrender, and says in the calmest tone imaginable, “You’re not actually going to hit me, are you?”

His question catches you off guard. What? Of course you’re going to hit him! How dare he act so calm, as if he’s the victim here? You narrow your eyes, gripping the trophy even tighter.

“Well, if you’re going to intrude in my room and act like you’re some innocent little boy who doesn’t know what he’s doing, you’ve got another thing coming!” you snap, taking a step closer. “I’ll call the police!”

Your voice rises with conviction as you mentally prepare to shout for your mom, who’s probably awake by now. Surely she’d hear the commotion and come running. But the man, completely unfazed, leans back slightly on the bed. He rolls his eyes, letting out a dramatic sigh.

“Well, then. Go ahead. Call the police,” he says, his tone dripping with nonchalance, as if this is the most mundane situation in the world.

The sheer audacity leaves you momentarily stunned. Who does this guy think he is? Acting like this is his room, like he’s inviting you to call for help. Your grip loosens slightly on the trophy as your mind races. Why isn’t he scared? Why isn’t he running? Has he done this before?

You glance around, searching for your phone. Where is it? You could’ve sworn you left it on your desk, but it’s nowhere in sight. Panic creeps into your chest. He still hasn’t moved. His eyes flick around the room, scanning the details, but he doesn’t seem in a rush to do anything.

The way he observes everything so calmly only fuels your fear. Your gut tells you this guy is dangerous, no matter how unbothered he looks. Your heart pounds as your brain screams: Stranger danger. Stranger danger.

“I’m serious,” you blurt out, your voice quivering slightly despite your best efforts to stay strong. “I’ll scream. I’ll—”

“Then scream,” he interrupts, his voice sharp but not loud. His gaze finally locks with yours, and for the first time, you notice something unsettling in his expression. A flicker of something you can’t quite place. Not anger, not malice—just…calculation.

Your breath catches. He’s not leaving. He’s not running. This isn’t over.

With a frustrated sigh, you blurt out, “Where’s my darn phone?!”

Your eyes scan the room, darting over every surface in search of it. The guy—still sitting lazily on your bed—doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he tilts his head slightly and says, in the most deadpan tone imaginable, “Why are you searching when I’m right here?”

You freeze mid-step, slowly turning to look at him. What? Did he just…? Your first thought is this guy is absolutely insane. No rational person would say that, and suddenly, you’re wondering if he’s got some kind of mental illness. And, because your irritation is outweighing your common sense, you let the words slip right out of your mouth:

“I’m searching for my phone, you idiot. Just wait—just you see—I’m gonna call the police on you!”

It’s a dumb move, announcing your plan to the potential intruder. But at this point, logic has taken a backseat to sheer annoyance.

The guy blinks at you, seemingly unfazed, and mutters in that same emotionless tone, “I am your phone.”

You stare at him, disbelief written all over your face. “If you’re my phone,” you snap, crossing your arms, “then call the cops yourself.”

You return to searching, hands rummaging through the clutter on your desk. But then you hear something that makes you stop cold: a dialing sound. Not from a phone, but from him. Slowly, you turn back to see a faint, glowing screen appear above his head. The digital display shows numbers being dialed.

Your heart races as the call connects. A voice crackles through the air—an officer, calm and professional, asking, “Hello? Is everything alright there?”

Your jaw drops. What do you even say? Panic sets in. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, your voice shaking. “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

The officer pauses, clearly unconvinced, but then ends the call with a polite goodbye.

You stare at the man—your phone?—in complete shock. He looks at you as if nothing unusual has happened, his expression blank. Slowly, you lower yourself onto the edge of the bed, pressing a trembling hand to your forehead.

“What the hell…” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. This can’t be real. Phones don’t turn into people. And yet, the evidence is sitting right in front of you—a very real, very handsome guy, casually perched on your bed like this is the most normal thing in the world.

He shifts slightly, his head tilting again. “You seem stressed,” he says, his tone flat but oddly observant.

“Stressed?” you snap, gesturing wildly. “Of course I’m stressed! My phone—my phone—just turned into you! How is this even possible?!”

He shrugs, completely unbothered. “You dropped me too many times. I think I just… evolved.”

“EVOLVED?!” You bury your face in your hands, groaning. None of this makes sense. You don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or check yourself into a psych ward.

“How…” you start, your voice muffled behind your hands, “how is this even happening?”

“That’s what I’m here to figure out,” he replies simply, leaning back on his elbows.

You peek at him through your fingers, still in disbelief. “This can’t be real. There’s no way. You—no, this—” You cut yourself off, letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

Your phone—no, the guy—tilts his head again, studying you. “You’ll get used to it,” he says, almost like a promise.

But you’re not so sure about that.

“So… you’re my phone?” you ask, your voice tinged with disbelief, eyes narrowing as you study the boy in front of you.

“No doubt,” he answers almost immediately, like he’s personally offended you’d even question it.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “Then prove it. What’s my name, my last semester grade, and… my favorite boy band?”

You’re sure this will trip him up. After all, your phone holds all your secrets. If he’s lying, he wouldn’t know the answers. You’ve texted casually about your life, sure, but your grade? That’s buried deep in your notes app. And your favorite K-pop group? Well, okay, maybe you’ve obsessively streamed their content, but still.

“Y/N, C-minus, and TXT,” he says without hesitation, his gaze steady as he stares you down.

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. “What the hell?” you mutter, stunned. No one knew your last semester grade—not even your parents. You hid it like a crime. And how could he guess your favorite group so easily?

You scowl, determined to poke a hole in his claim. “That’s not enough. Maybe you stalked me or paid too much attention to my life,” you argue, crossing your arms smugly, waiting for him to stumble.

But instead, he smirks—an infuriatingly cocky smirk. “Those videos you watch while pretending to be asleep under your blanket—”

“Shut up!” you cut him off, your cheeks instantly flaming. Oh, my god. That was not something anyone was supposed to know. “Fine, I believe you!” you snap, desperate to stop him before he digs up more embarrassing truths.

But he’s not done. He leans closer, his voice dropping as he adds, “And how about that sob story you wrote in your digital journal? The one you cringed at so hard you almost deleted the whole app?”

Your entire face burns. “I said I believe you! Now shut the fck up!” The words come out louder than you intended, practically echoing in the room.

There’s a knock on the door, followed by it swinging open.

“You seriously aren’t ready for school yet?” your mom complains, arms crossed as she glares at you.

Your heart stops. You whip around, fully expecting her to freak out at the sight of a random guy in your room. But when you look back at your bed…

He’s gone.

In his place lies your phone—ordinary, rectangular, and definitely not a human boy.

You stare at it, dumbfounded, while your mom narrows her eyes at you. “Well?” she snaps.

“I—I’m getting ready,” you stammer, trying to keep your voice steady. You glance back at the phone, half-expecting it to sprout arms and legs again. But it doesn’t move.

Your mom sighs, muttering something about you being late, and slams the door shut.

You flop down onto the bed, your head spinning. Did you just imagine all of that? Was it some kind of stress-induced hallucination? But… no, it felt real. Too real.

Your hand hovers over your phone. “What the hell just happened?” you whisper, the memory of his smug face flashing in your mind. You’re not sure if you’re losing it or if your phone just pulled the biggest prank of your life. Either way, it’s going to be a long day.

You couldn't focus at all during school. The weight of your phone in your pocket felt heavier than usual, as though it was a ticking time bomb waiting to spring legs and arms again. The thought of keeping it in your bag seemed like a bad idea—what if it turned into him again and someone saw? The last thing you needed was to explain that.

And yet, your mind kept wandering back to him. The guy. The phone. Whatever he was. He was… kind of handsome.

You mentally slapped yourself. Snap out of it, Y/N. It’s your phone, not a K-drama lead! Still, the thought lingered, making your stomach churn. What if you’d imagined everything? What if it was all in your head?

You tried to shake the unsettling thought, but it stuck. Maybe you were losing it. After all, you weren’t exactly what anyone would call normal. You’d always kept to yourself, avoided making friends, and generally preferred your own company. Isn’t that how they describe psychopaths in true crime documentaries?

You shivered at the thought. Maybe Eunmi would understand. She was quiet, kept her distance from people too. You glanced across the classroom and spotted her sitting by herself. Perfect. You grabbed your stuff and slid into the seat next to her.

Eunmi turned to you, her brows furrowing in confusion. Without a word, she grabbed her things and moved to another seat across the room.

“Wtf?” you muttered, glaring after her. “Some people are so ungrateful. She could’ve just said she didn’t want to talk.”

You slumped back in your seat, fuming and plotting petty revenge in your head. But before you could dwell on it too much, the classroom door creaked open. Miss Shin walked in, her expression as flat and lifeless as her lectures.

History. Great.

You suppressed a groan as she began her lesson, droning on about wars and treaties in the most monotone voice imaginable. You weren’t saying history couldn’t be interesting—it totally could. But with Miss Shin? She made even the most exciting historical events feel like watching paint dry.

Why was she even hired as a teacher? She should’ve been a librarian or something.

You stifled a yawn, covering your mouth with your hand. The effort was pointless, though. Half the class was already yawning or staring blankly at their desks.

Your hand brushed against your pocket, the outline of your phone reminding you of the chaos from this morning. You couldn’t help but peek down at it. Was it just your imagination, or did it feel warmer than usual?

Stay calm, you told yourself. Don’t freak out. But the thought lingered—what if this wasn’t over? What if he—or it—came back?

You swallowed hard and glanced around the room. No one was paying attention to you, thankfully. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something about today was far from normal.

“So this…” Miss Shin droned on, gesturing at the board where her half-hearted notes were scrawled. Whatever she was explaining had already flown over your head. You didn’t care. You weren’t in the mood to pay attention, let alone write anything down.

You flipped open your notebook—still blank, as usual—and stared at the empty page. The thought of filling it with Miss Shin’s monotony made your eyelids droop. All you wanted was to go back home, crawl into bed, and pretend this bizarre day hadn’t happened. Maybe that was the real reason you were seeing things—exhaustion messing with your brain.

A faint ding from your pocket pulled you out of your thoughts. You frowned and pulled out your phone. A notification glared up at you:

“Write it down.”

What the…? You didn’t remember setting up anything like that. Before you could process it, you sneezed unexpectedly, the sharp sound echoing across the silent classroom. Heads turned toward you, your classmates throwing judgmental looks your way.

You tried to ignore them, but then your phone started to vibrate—loudly. The desk buzzed beneath your hands, and you could feel the attention of the entire room shifting onto you.

This was a nightmare.

Your classmates whispered among themselves, some shooting you annoyed glances. You were already the so-called “bad influence” in the school, the one parents warned their kids to stay away from. But this? This was next-level humiliation.

The phone wouldn’t stop vibrating. You tried pressing random buttons, but nothing worked. It was as if your phone—or he—was demanding your cooperation.

You sighed, gripping your pen. Maybe, just maybe, the only way to shut it up was to do what it wanted. As ridiculous as it sounded, you decided to test your theory.

The moment your pen touched the page and you started copying the notes on the board, the vibrating stopped. Silence finally returned, and you let out a breath of relief.

But your heart raced. This wasn’t normal. None of it was.

Your father had gifted you this phone before he passed away. It was sentimental, irreplaceable. But now it felt like a curse. A device that had taken on a life of its own—or, more disturbingly, a human form.

You glanced at your pocket where the phone rested quietly, as if nothing had happened. You couldn’t shake the thought that whatever this was, it wasn’t over. For now, though, you had no choice but to keep writing, pretending like everything was fine.

The park is quiet, save for the distant chatter of kids playing and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. You sit on a bench, your elbows resting on your knees, and your gaze fixed on the ground. Your phone lies next to you, placed carefully on the seat, as if you’re afraid it might suddenly sprout arms and legs again.

Your schoolbag acts as a barrier between you and the phone, like it’ll somehow protect you from whatever is going on. You sigh heavily, the weight of the day pressing down on you. “I should really see a therapist,” you mutter under your breath, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

The unexpected sensation of an arm draping casually over your shoulder sends a shiver down your spine. You freeze, your heart skipping a beat as your head snaps to the side. And there he is—again. The guy who claims to be your phone, lounging as if nothing about this is strange.

“Why did you disappear this morning when my mom came in?” you ask, your voice a mix of confusion and exasperation.

He shrugs nonchalantly, leaning back on the bench like he owns the place. His posture is relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, his expression completely void of emotion. “Nobody else can see me except you.”

His answer is so matter-of-fact that it takes you a second to process. You lean forward, resting your forearms on your knees, and glance at him sideways. “Great,” you say dryly, “so not only do I have a talking phone, but it’s also invisible to everyone else. Just my luck.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the sky like he’s analyzing the clouds. The silence stretches, and you realize something that’s been bugging you since the first time he appeared.

“Do you even have a personality?” you blurt out, sitting up straight to face him. The question isn’t kind, but at this point, you don’t care. He doesn’t seem to have feelings, anyway—why would he? He’s a phone.

He finally turns to look at you, his face as blank as always. Then, without missing a beat, he says, “Apparently, the phone takes after its owner.”

His words hit you like a slap. Your jaw drops, and you feel a rush of indignation. “Excuse me? Are you saying I don’t have a personality?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he replies, completely unfazed.

You stare at him, stunned. Nobody’s ever said anything like that to you before. Sure, you’ve had fake friends talk behind your back and parents who sometimes pointed out your flaws, but being insulted by your own phone? That’s a new low.

“You’ve got some nerve,” you snap, crossing your arms.

He tilts his head, studying you like you’re an object of mild interest. “I’m just stating the facts. You’ve been carrying me around all this time; I’m bound to reflect you.”

You scoff, turning away to glare at the horizon. The breeze ruffles your hair, and you feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “You know,” you mutter, “for something that’s supposed to be mine, you’re awfully rude.”

“Rude?” he echoes, sounding genuinely curious. “I didn’t realize honesty was rude. Maybe that’s another reflection of you.”

You whip your head back toward him, your mouth opening to retort, but the look on his face—calm, blank, unbothered—leaves you speechless.

For a moment, you just sit there, glaring at him while he stares back with that same neutral expression. It’s infuriating. You slump back against the bench, throwing your head back and groaning in frustration.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” you say to no one in particular.

He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees and looking at you with something that might almost be amusement. “You kept me for years. This is just karma.”

“Karma for what?” you snap, narrowing your eyes at him.

“For ignoring the warranty,” he deadpans, and for the first time, you think you see the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

You glare at him, utterly done. “I hate you.”

“You’ll still carry me everywhere,” he points out, leaning back again and crossing his arms smugly.

You groan again, pressing your palms to your face because of how annoying he truly was. For a moment neither of you spoke.

“Why would you vibrate in class? That was so embarrassing,” you say, breaking the tension and changing the subject. You’re not about to argue further, so you sling an arm around his shoulder like you’re old friends.

He immediately stiffens and shrugs your arm off with a look of mild disgust. “Because you weren’t writing the notes,” he replies flatly, brushing off your gesture like you’ve personally offended him.

You blink, stunned. The audacity.

“And why do you care so much about that? You’re supposed to be my phone,” you snap, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Because, well…” He pauses, and suddenly, that glowing screen appears above his head again. It’s flipping through your search history.

Your heart drops. “What are you doing?! Close it!” you hiss, panic bubbling in your chest as you glance around to make sure no one’s nearby.

He doesn’t even flinch at your tone, completely unbothered. “Relax. I’m just looking for something,” he says, his voice taking on an infuriatingly smug edge.

“I searched those things because they’re private,” you mutter, your frustration building. You ball your fists at your sides, resisting the urge to throttle him—not that it would make any difference. He’s a freaking machine.

“You shouldn’t have searched them if you didn’t want anyone to see,” he replies, his monotone voice now laced with an evil undertone. His smirk grows as the glowing screen halts, revealing a to-do list. Your middle school to-do list.

You feel the blood drain from your face. “No, no, no,” you mumble, already dreading what’s coming next.

“Let’s see,” he says, clearly enjoying this. He leans forward slightly, reading aloud:

001. Get A’s in at least three subjects.

002. Get a boyfriend before graduation.

003. Make at least one friend.

The list glows mockingly between the two of you.

You groan and press a hand to your forehead. “You’re not seriously going to dwell on something I wrote as a literal kid,” you mutter, voice dripping with disbelief.

“Why not? You still haven’t checked anything off,” he points out, tilting his head like he’s genuinely curious about your failure.

“Because—” you start, your voice rising in frustration, “that was middle school! None of that even matters now!”

“Well, well, well... If I’m looking at your past history and the things in your other notes...” He trails off, his glowing screen flipping again as though searching for the most humiliating detail to dig up.

Then it stops. His screen flashes: 15% character development since middle school.

Your jaw drops. The sheer amount of disrespect—oh, lord. You point an accusatory finger at him, utterly offended by your own phone.

“That is so false! If I hadn’t had character development, I wouldn’t have stood up to the bullies in middle school. Or cut off all my toxic friends!” you argue, arms crossing tightly over your chest. The nerve of this guy.

He tilts his head, unimpressed. “That’s why it said 15% development. The other 85%? Still not there. Let’s just say, you need to study harder instead of spending hours watching those—”

You slap a hand over his mouth, glaring up at him despite the fact that he’s way taller. “SHUT UP!”

He doesn’t resist, just blinks at you like this is all beneath him. Meanwhile, you grab your water bottle and take a sip, trying to calm your boiling frustration. After a deep breath, you lower the bottle and mutter, “If you’ve turned into a human, why can’t you, I don’t know, switch to being female? Maybe I’d connect with you better.”

It’s not really a question. More of a passive-aggressive command for him to get out of your life entirely.

“Well,” he starts, completely unfazed, “cheap phones apparently only transform into males. If your phone was more expensive, maybe I’d be a girl.”

The silence that follows is deafening. His expression is as emotionless as ever, so he clearly doesn’t realize the massive mistake he just made.

You stare at him, the words hitting like a punch to the gut. Slowly, you lower your gaze, your voice quieter now. “It was gifted by my dad… my late dad,” you mumble.

His screen flickers uncertainly, but he doesn’t say anything. You sigh, pressing your palms against your face, trying to hold back the sting of tears threatening to spill.

Your dad had been the best—kind, patient, your biggest supporter. And then, when you were seven, everything changed. After he passed, your mom remarried. You didn’t want to accept the man as your stepdad, not when you still held on so tightly to the memory of your father.

It wasn’t until you were older—seventeen, to be exact—that you realized how selfish you’d been. Your mom had spent years grieving, and she deserved love, even if it hurt you to see someone else in your dad’s place.

The man was nice to you, patient even when you were rude. But every time you looked at him, it reminded you that your dad was gone.

The phone sitting next to you now—this phone—was your dad’s. You’d taken it after growing up, cherishing it because it had been his. Back then, it brought you comfort.

You never could’ve imagined it would one day transform into some smug guy with no tact whatsoever.

“If I wanted my phone to transform into someone… it would be my dad,” you mutter, swiping at a tear that threatens to escape the confines of your closed eyelids.

He stays silent for a moment, his screen flickering dimly before he mumbles, “But… wouldn't it be sad? Seeing him trapped inside a device?”

The softness in his voice makes you laugh—an awkward, bittersweet laugh. What were you even doing? Seeking comfort from your phone?

“Why are you laughing?” he asks, tilting his head in confusion.

“Since you’re so smart and apparently great at giving correct statements, why don’t you figure out yourself why I’m laughing?” you reply, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

He looks thoroughly puzzled, his glowing eyes blinking as though trying to process. Of course, he wouldn’t understand. He was a machine. A device that knew nothing about the complexities of the actual world.

Before you can explain—or tell him to drop it entirely—the skies open up. The first raindrop splatters onto the ground, quickly followed by another, then another. Within seconds, it’s pouring.

Your smile fades, replaced with pure horror as realization strikes. He’s your phone. Not a regular guy. Meaning— “You’re not waterproof!” you yelp, panic kicking in.

“What?” he asks, his confusion somehow even more clueless than before.

“We need to run!” you blurt out, already yanking off your jacket.

You grab his shoulders, tugging him down since he’s ridiculously tall—and far too proud of it. Wrapping the jacket over his head as a makeshift cover, you mutter under your breath, “I swear, if you short-circuit on me, I’m going to lose it.”

He mumbles something, but you’re not listening. You grab his hand, practically dragging him through the downpour. The jacket flutters slightly as you shield him, doing your best to keep him—and by extension, your phone—dry.

If anyone saw you, they’d think this was a scene straight out of a romance movie. The two of you running through the rain, hands intertwined, your jacket protecting his head.

But no. This wasn’t a romantic moment. Not even close.

This was you desperately trying to save your phone. A phone that was probably going to haunt you later by bringing up your middle school to-do list the second it powered back on.

The next day, you hug your pillow tightly, the soft fabric providing a fleeting moment of peace as sleep lingers in your half-conscious mind. The blanket drapes over you completely, cocooning you in warmth, and for a blissful second, you forget the bizarre events of the day before.

That is, until a cold splash of water shocks you into reality.

“WHAT THE HELL?” you hiss, bolting upright, water dripping from your hair and stinging your eyes. You frantically swipe at your face, blinking to focus on the perpetrator.

Standing there with a glass in hand and an infuriatingly calm expression is him.

“Just waking you up,” he says with a shrug, as if drenching someone in cold water is the most reasonable way to start a morning.

Your patience snaps. Without thinking, you grip his shoulders and push him down onto the now-soaked bed, your movements fueled by a mix of irritation and disbelief. You hover over him, faces mere inches apart, as you glare.

“If you ever pull that stunt again,” you growl, your voice low and dangerous, “I swear I’ll punch you. Hard.”

For a moment, he stares up at you, unflinching. His expression remains annoyingly blank, devoid of any real emotion. “You won’t,” he says flatly, his voice laced with the same maddening nonchalance.

The tension in the air is palpable, and just as you’re about to argue—or maybe prove him wrong—the sound of your door creaking open freezes you in place.

Your mother stands in the doorway, her expression teetering between confusion and concern as she takes in the scene: you, soaking wet and hovering over what appears to be… nothing.

You glance down, heart sinking.

The boy is gone.

In his place, lying on the bed, is your phone—completely ordinary, as if nothing ever happened.

You gape at it, then back at your mom, trying to string together some sort of explanation. But what could you even say? That your phone turned into a person yesterday, drenched you in water, and then vanished the second she walked in?

The bed is still soaked with the cold water your phone—now suspiciously ordinary—had poured on you moments ago. Your mother’s voice cuts through the tense silence like a whip, her tone sharp and unforgiving.

“Did you wet your bed?” she demands, though it’s not really a question. Her eyes are blazing with indignation, and you can tell she already believes the answer.

Your stomach twists in frustration. Of all things, this has to happen on a weekend—a day meant for rest, now utterly ruined by this bizarre, unbelievable mess. And all because of that darn phone.

“No, Mom… I don’t know how the water got there,” you mutter, keeping your voice as steady as possible. The truth is out of the question. Telling her your phone had somehow turned into a boy and splashed you awake would sound absurd even to you.

“So the water just appeared there by itself?” she snaps, crossing her arms as if she’s daring you to double down on your story. Her disbelief burns in the air between you, and you feel a spark of anger flicker beneath your skin.

Your mother has always been quick to anger, her patience worn thin ever since your dad passed away. You love her—of course, you do—but moments like this stretch your tolerance to its limit.

She huffs loudly, a sound filled with both exasperation and finality. “I expect this mess cleaned up before you go anywhere,” she says curtly, her words laced with a warning. Then, without waiting for a response, she turns on her heel and shuts the door behind her with a thud.

You’re left alone in the room, staring at the wet mattress and the phone in your hand. The absurdity of the situation hits you all over again, and a bitter laugh bubbles in your throat.

“Thanks for that,” you mutter under your breath to the device, as if it could still hear you.

But it remains silent—an ordinary, lifeless phone. And yet, you can’t shake the feeling that somewhere within its circuits, it’s smirking.

You sit on the soaked bed, hugging your knees to your chest. The chill from the cold water clings to your skin, but in the biting cold of December, it doesn’t really matter anymore. The wet bed is just another indignity added to the list of things you’re enduring today—courtesy of your phone.

Your eyes trail to the closed door, and a heaviness settles in your chest. Your mom hardly speaks to you unless it’s about your studies. Anything else—your health, your feelings—just turns into a sharp yell, as though shouting could substitute for care.

With a sigh, you get up, water dripping from your clothes as you grab a cloth to clean the floor. Kneeling down, you watch the fabric soak up the water, leaving dark patches on the cloth as it gets heavier.

“Such a sad life I have,” you mutter irritably, throwing a glance toward your phone sitting innocently on the desk. Its stillness is almost mocking, like it’s pretending to have no part in this disaster.

Your lips curl into a taunting smirk as you direct your words at it. “Must be nice, huh? Creating a mess and then leaving me to deal with it. Why not become a human and help me clean this up?”

You roll your eyes, half-hoping—no, fully expecting—it to transform and lend a hand. But no. The lazy little piece of tech remains where it is, as lifeless as any other phone. The longer you stare at it, the more ridiculous you feel.

“Figures,” you huff under your breath, dragging the damp cloth across the floor. The absurdity of it all makes you question yourself. Did it ever really turn into a human? Or are you just losing your mind?

Either way, it’s not helping. And now, the floor’s dry, but your patience is wrung out completely.

“When we reach there, you don’t get to disturb me, Niki,” you say firmly to the guy walking beside you. He’s the embodiment of your phone—a fact you’re still trying to wrap your head around.

“Niki?” he repeats, tilting his head in confusion, his expression as blank as an untouched canvas. “Who’s Niki here?”

“You,” you reply with an exasperated sigh. “I’m naming you Niki. Or Riki, whatever. It’s too weird to keep thinking of you as my phone.”

“That’s a weird name,” he comments, his tone matter-of-fact.

Your eyes narrow at him. “Be happy I’m not holding a grudge for what you did this morning,” you snap, barely holding back your frustration.

“What did I do so wrong?” he asks, genuinely perplexed. His human brows knit together in confusion, and it almost makes you doubt his intentions. Almost. “You set an alarm, and I woke you up,” he adds, as if the logic is foolproof.

“You created a mess!” you counter, gesturing emphatically with your hands. “Yes, I set an alarm—but a virtual alarm. Not an invitation for someone to literally pour cold water on me in the middle of freezing winter!”

He stares at you, his innocent expression unshaken, and you groan in defeat.

Scolding him feels pointless. At the end of the day, he’s still a phone—albeit a bizarrely human one. And while his actions drive you up the wall, you remind yourself that yelling at him won’t change anything. Technology doesn’t have feelings.

Or so you keep telling yourself.

And now, here you are, on your way to a study session with two classmates. Not because you’re overly eager or dedicated, but because you’re failing your classes. Hard. And your phone—master of your life apparently—had made it a point to remind you of the ancient to-do list you’d scribbled in middle school.

The list wasn’t exactly groundbreaking:

i. Get a boyfriend. ii. Get a friend. iii. Score at least three A’s in school.

Simple, right? Wrong.

Studying alone never worked for you. If you tried, you’d inevitably end up daydreaming, scrolling through social media, or finding creative ways to procrastinate. So, you’d resorted to digging through the school’s study groups and joining the only active one left. You didn’t know who the other two members were, but that was a minor detail.

You grab your phone—yes, the normal phone, since Riki decided to turn back into his original form. You still cringe at how uninspired his name is, but for now, it works.

The plan is simple: fit into the study group, make a friend (or something that vaguely resembles friendship), and start checking boxes off the list. Not that your phone would ever know, you think with a sly smirk.

Shoving the device into your pocket, you make your way to the designated spot, but as soon as you see the two group members, you freeze.

It’s Eunmi and Jungwon.

Eunmi—the same girl who once shot you a disgusted look and turned her back on you like you were nothing more than yesterday’s trash. Oh, how you’d love to knock that smug grin off her face.

And then there’s Jungwon. Handsome, quiet Jungwon. You’ve never spoken to him, but he has an air about him that practically screams “perfect study partner.”

Suddenly, you realize how this could work in your favor.

Step one: Get a boyfriend. Jungwon’s good looks and his apparent lack of social drama make him the ideal choice. You’re not looking for love; you’re looking to cross a line off your list.

Step two: Make a friend. Eunmi? Ugh. As much as it pains you, she qualifies—even if you have to grit your teeth and fake it. If not her, then someone else will eventually fit the bill. Surely, you’re not that unfriendable… right?

Step three: Score three A’s. With Jungwon’s brains and a bit of effort on your part, that goal might actually be achievable.

It’s a win-win-win, you tell yourself, a cunning glint in your eye. You take a deep breath and plaster on your most convincing smile. It’s time to work some magic—your reputation be damned.

You slide into the seat opposite Jungwon, deliberately ignoring Eunmi. The phone in your pocket is entirely forgotten for now as you focus on your new plan.

“So, I guess I’ll be studying with you guys?” you ask, letting a soft, harmless smile linger on your lips while keeping your gaze locked on Jungwon. You casually unzip your bag, pulling out a battered zoology book and setting it on the table as if you’re here for serious business.

Jungwon, polite as ever, gives you a small nod. “Well, kind of. You can say that,” he replies. He doesn’t seem unfriendly, though you can tell by his tone that he and Eunmi have been in this study group for a while. Of course, that makes you the outsider. Not that it bothers you—this is just a stepping stone to your ultimate goals.

And then Eunmi speaks.

“What made you want to study all of a sudden, Miss Bad Grades?”

You clench your jaw but force your face to remain neutral, even though your fingers itch to grab a fistful of her perfectly styled hair and yank. How dare this girl try to ruin your impression in front of Jungwon? Sure, your reputation in school isn’t stellar, but she didn’t have to say it out loud.

“I wanted to do better,” you reply smoothly, keeping your voice calm and unbothered. Your smile doesn’t waver, though inside, you’re plotting about five different ways to get back at her if she keeps this up.

The study session has barely begun, and already, you’re wondering how you’re going to survive without snapping. You glance at Jungwon, hoping he’ll say something to shift the conversation, but he’s already flipping through his notebook, oblivious to the silent tension brewing between you and Eunmi.

The session drags on, and while your eyes occasionally skim the words in your textbook, your brain is busy analyzing the way Jungwon’s lips press together when he’s concentrating. You imagine how soft they must feel, how it would be to kiss him. But no, not yet. You can’t. Not until you’ve executed your plan.

Time slips away unnoticed until your phone starts buzzing in your pocket, jolting you from your daydreams. Internally, you curse. What does Riki want this time? That mischievous, human-turned-phone was always up to something.

Eunmi, of course, notices. She shakes her head in that condescending way that practically screams, See? I told you she’s not serious about studying. You don’t need to hear her words to know she’s silently plotting to turn Jungwon against you. The smug look on her face makes your fingers twitch.

“Such a bitch,” you mutter under your breath before quickly masking your irritation.

“I’ll—be right back,” you say with a sheepish smile, standing up from the table. The chair scrapes against the floor, earning you a scoff from Eunmi. She doesn’t even try to hide her disdain.

Jungwon gives a distracted hum, barely lifting his head from his book. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Could this guy act like he cares for once? I’m right here, desperate for your attention, and you’re more invested in spermatogenesis?

Your phone is still vibrating as you weave through the tables, making your way to the restroom. Once inside, you slip into a stall and lock the door behind you. Pulling out your phone, you press the power button like you’re interrogating a criminal.

“Hey, Riki? Why are you buzzing?” you hiss, glaring at the glowing phone in your hand. Frustration bubbles in your chest as you slump onto the toilet seat, trying to avoid drawing more attention.

Before you can even blink, the phone morphs, and there he is—Riki. Towering over you, his presence taking up the cramped stall like he owns it. You freeze, your eyes widening as you realize just how compromising this position looks. His knees brush yours, and his hands press against the walls, effectively trapping you in place.

“H-Hey! Get off me!” you stammer, squirming as much as the limited space allows. But even when he shifts slightly, it doesn’t make much of a difference. He’s still leaning in way too close for comfort.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he says, his voice low but cutting. “Why were you staring at Jungwon instead of finishing the chapter?”

The question knocks the breath out of you. You gape at him, your brain scrambling to come up with an excuse. How does he even know? He’s just a phone!

“That’s—none of your business!” you sputter, crossing your arms defensively.

“Oh, it is my business,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t I the one keeping track of your precious little checklist?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “One of the tasks is getting a boyfriend, isn’t it? So yeah, I was looking at him. Got a problem with that?”

Riki’s expression shifts, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of something almost human in his sharp gaze. Disbelief? Annoyance? Whatever it is, it’s enough to make him scoff audibly.

“You’re thinking him? That guy? Seriously?” he asks, his voice dripping with judgment. “Your taste in men is worse than I thought.”

“Excuse me?” You glare, feeling your blood boil. “He’s charming and—”

“You wouldn’t know charming if it hit you in the face,” Riki cuts you off, rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh. For someone who used to be a piece of metal and glass, he’s got an awful lot of opinions.

Before you can retort, he turns back into your phone in the blink of an eye, falling toward the floor. You scramble to catch him, nearly fumbling in the process, and clutch him tightly in your hand.

“You are the worst,” you mutter, shoving him back into your pocket.

But as you stand up and unlock the stall, brushing yourself off, the thought lingers: Why did he get so worked up? You shake your head, pushing the question away. Who cares? It’s not like his opinion matters, right?

Right.

A week passes, and you’re still not fully adjusted to the bizarre reality that your phone occasionally transforms into a sarcastic, human-sized headache named Riki. It’s unsettling but oddly entertaining—though you’d never admit that to him.

The study group, on the other hand, is a battlefield you didn’t sign up for. Not because of the studying—oh no, that’s manageable. It’s Eunmi, who seems to have declared you her mortal enemy the moment you walked in.

Her latest tactics are as subtle as a neon sign. First, there was the juice incident. She accidentally spilled her drink all over your notes, forcing you to grit your teeth and smile like a beauty pageant contestant while internally screaming. You knew it wasn’t an accident—her little smirk gave her away—but yelling at her in front of Jungwon? No way. That would only play into her hands.

Then came the note-snatching debacle. Eunmi sweetly asked to borrow your notes, even though hers were perfectly fine. Next thing you know, there’s a loud rip as she flips a page too aggressively. Your precious, perfectly organised notes—ruined. You’re convinced she’s trying to provoke you into losing your temper, hoping Jungwon will see you as the unhinged maniac she wants you to be.

But you’re smarter than that. You refuse to give her the satisfaction.

Jungwon, oblivious as ever, doesn’t seem to notice the cold war brewing at the table. Over the past week, you’ve come to realise just how clueless he is—not just about Eunmi’s schemes but also about your less-than-stellar reputation.

How is it possible that he doesn’t know? You were practically infamous for your fiery temper in school. Yet here he is, helping you with notes, explaining concepts patiently, even sharing his own work with you—all without a hint of hesitation.

Sometimes, he surprises you even more. Like when he casually suggests the two of you study alone. Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest each time he does, but you force yourself to decline.

Not because you don’t want to.

You do—desperately.

But according to your well-studied guide on “How to Win a Guy Over,” playing hard to get is essential. If you said yes too quickly, wouldn’t he stop finding you interesting?

So, with every ounce of willpower, you smile, place a hand over your racing heart, and politely refuse.

“Maybe next time,” you say, pretending to be unfazed, when really, you’re screaming internally.

You tell yourself it’s working. Jungwon seems more intrigued every day—or at least, that’s what you tell yourself to justify the agony of sitting through another study session with her.

Lately, Riki—or Niki, or whatever you had whimsically decided to call him—had taken it upon himself to discipline you. Whenever study time rolled around, he would shut your bedroom door with the finality of a prison warden, ensuring zero distractions.

At first, it was kind of helpful. You begrudgingly admitted that. But as the days went on, it started to get unbearable.

Without your phone—because your phone was, unfortunately, a human being now—there was no scrolling through your feed, no binge-watching your favorite group’s reels, and no celebrity TikToks. Worse, you hadn’t even heard TXT’s latest song or watched their new music video because someone refused to let you.

You tapped your pen against your desk, fidgeting with boredom. “Please,” you whined, turning in your chair to face him. “I studied for like, three hours, didn’t I? Now be a good boy and let mama see some reels or TikToks!” You added the last part with a teasing lilt, hoping to fluster him.

But you forgot—this was Riki. Your sentient, emotionally unavailable phone. Feelings? Not his thing.

“No,” he replied flatly, arms crossed like he was the boss of you.

“Please, Miki!” you tried again, throwing in some puppy-dog eyes for good measure.

He raised a brow, unimpressed. “Miki? Didn’t you already name me Riki?” His tone was laced with exasperation, like he couldn’t fathom how you’d forgotten the name you gave him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you huffed, brushing off his sarcasm. “I swear, it’s just one music video. That’s it. I’ve earned it!”

He didn’t respond immediately, his face a mix of suspicion and resignation. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. But just one video.”

Your face lit up as a glowing screen materialized above his head, displaying the thumbnail of TXT’s latest music video. As it began to play, you clapped in delight and sang along, fully immersing yourself in the moment.

But just as you were getting into it—pausing to admire Soobin’s part—Riki froze the video mid-frame.

“Enough,” he said, his tone as dry as the Sahara.

You glared at him, fists clenched as if contemplating whether punching him was worth the effort. Instead, you let out an exaggerated groan, slumping in your chair.

Riki ignored your dramatics, a timer popping up in the digital display above his head. It ticked down with cruel efficiency, mocking you.

“Can you believe this?” you muttered under your breath. “My phone is moody.”

“I wish I was with Jungwon,” you muttered, shooting a glare at the sulking figure in front of you. You didn’t even try to hide the exasperation in your voice.

Riki’s eyes snapped to yours, his expression hardening as if you’d just insulted his entire existence. “Why the blonde-haired guy?” he asked, his lips twisting into a bitter frown.

It was the first time you’d seen him show this much emotion, and it was shockingly clear—he despised Jungwon.

“He has a name,” you said defensively, crossing your arms.

Riki wasn’t having it. “So, you’re now his personal lawyer?” he shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “This is why you don’t get good grades. Stop running after that guy.”

You blinked, caught between indignation and disbelief. “Excuse me?” His logic—or lack thereof—was baffling. He’d been the one insisting you get a boyfriend before high school ended. But now? Now he was acting like you’d committed some unspeakable crime.

Before you could form a retort, he sighed dramatically and transformed back into a phone, flopping onto your bed with a heavy thud.

You groaned, snatching him up. “What is your problem?” You pressed the power button, trying to unlock the screen, but the phone didn’t respond. No matter how many times you swiped or tapped, it stubbornly refused to work.

“Are you kidding me?” you hissed, your annoyance bubbling over.

From your bed, the phone-turned-human smirked, lounging like he owned the place before flickering back into a phone. The audacity.

“Aghhh, fine! I’ll study!” you snapped, stomping back to your desk. Your chair scraped loudly against the floor as you plopped down, glaring daggers at the sulking phone.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him flickering in and out of human form, like some glitching video game character. One moment he was there, leaning against your pillows with his arms crossed and an unimpressed look; the next, he was just a lifeless phone.

It was almost…cute? No, no, you shook your head. There was nothing cute about your phone-human hybrid being this petty.

Still, you found your eyes wandering back to him more often than you’d like to admit. And each time, you caught the faintest hint of a smug expression on his face, as if he knew he was winning this ridiculous battle of wills.

“Yes, Mom, I’ll go! Just two minutes!” you shout, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a passable top in a rush. All this, just to take out the trash. A noble cause? Hardly. But it was enough to earn your mom’s approval.

Riki—or your phone, rather—lay silent on your desk. He wasn’t in human form right now, but if he were, you could already picture him sulking. He’d been unusually quiet since you decided to help your mom instead of following his meticulous study schedule. Not that you minded the silence; it felt like a small victory.

With a sigh, you grab the trash bag, sliding your phone into your pocket. “Be good,” you mutter under your breath, half expecting some smart-aleck comment from him, but the screen remains dark.

Slipping into your worn-out slippers, you trudge down the apartment stairs, the trash bag swinging lightly in your grip. The cool evening air brushes against your face as you step outside, breathing in the faint scent of street food from the stalls down the block.

“Phew,” you murmur to yourself, relieved to have made it out without any drama. That is until your heart nearly stops.

There, by the communal trash bins, is Jungwon. Casual and effortlessly perfect, dressed in a plain hoodie and jeans, his hair falling into his eyes in a way that shouldn’t look this good.

Your gaze drops to your outfit—a mismatched catastrophe of sweatpants, an old shirt, and slippers. You might as well be cosplaying a beggar (according to your mom).

Mentally cursing your life choices, you toss the trash bag into the bin, dusting your hands and praying for a clean escape. But before you can make your getaway, a hand touches your shoulder.

“You live around here?” Jungwon’s voice is light and curious, but it feels like a spotlight on your very soul.

“Uh, yeah… kind of,” you stammer, suddenly hyper-aware of how ridiculous you must look.

“And that is…?” His voice trails off as he points behind you, his brows knitting together.

You turn slowly, dread pooling in your stomach. Standing a few feet away is Riki, in his fully human form, arms crossed, looking like he’s been summoned from the depths of your worst nightmares.

Your hand shoots into your pocket, fumbling for your phone. Except—your pocket is empty.

Your brain short-circuits. He can see Riki?!

“Boyfriend. Her boyfriend,” Riki announces sharply, his voice cutting through the moment like a knife. His eyes narrow at Jungwon, his disdain palpable. If looks could kill, Jungwon would have been incinerated on the spot.

Your mouth drops open, no words forming. Riki, your phone-human hybrid, is showing emotion. And not just any emotion—jealousy.

Jungwon’s lips part, clearly taken aback, but he quickly recovers, a polite smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh… I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do,” Riki snaps, stepping closer and crossing his arms protectively.

All you can do is stand there, torn between laughing hysterically at the absurdity of the situation and wanting the earth to swallow you whole. This is your life now—your phone pretending to be your boyfriend in front of your crush. Fantastic.

“Is it true?” Jungwon asks, tilting his head slightly. His tone is soft, uncertain, like he’s piecing together a puzzle that suddenly doesn’t make sense. He had never known you had a boyfriend. The poor guy had even started thinking maybe—just maybe—you might be interested in him. But now? He thinks otherwise.

“Yeah… I think so,” you mutter, your voice barely audible as you glance at Riki. Confusion swirls in your head like a storm. Why on earth is this bastard acting like a full-fledged human, let alone ruining the sliver of progress you'd made with Jungwon?

“It’s 100% true,” Riki cuts in, his voice low and menacing as he steps between you and Jungwon. “So, I suggest you stay away from my girlfriend.”

Jungwon blinks, his lips parting slightly in disbelief. “Oh… okay,” he says after a moment, his voice a mix of confusion and reluctant acceptance. Relief flashes briefly across his face—better to find out now than after he’d fallen for you completely, he reasons.

He tosses his trash into the bin, bows politely—because, of course, Jungwon’s still a gentleman—and turns on his heel, walking back toward his apartment.

As soon as he’s out of sight, you whirl on Riki, fury bubbling just beneath the surface. “You ruined it, Niki!” you hiss through gritted teeth, your voice a harsh whisper to avoid attracting any curious neighbors.

Riki just shrugs, utterly unbothered. A screen materializes above his head, glowing faintly in the dim light. It displays a graph, bold and undeniable: Jungwon negatively affects your study efficiency by 60%.

“See?” he says, pointing at the glowing data like it’s irrefutable proof. “I’m doing you a favor. Jungwon’s presence is literally detrimental to your academic success.”

You stare at the screen, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. You’re at a loss. How are you supposed to argue with statistics? It’s infuriatingly logical, and yet, entirely absurd.

Your foot taps impatiently on the pavement as you cross your arms. “Why do you hate Jungwon so much?” you ask, your voice sharp with exasperation. Deep down, you’re fighting the urge to smack him—though you quickly remind yourself that assaulting your phone probably isn’t the best idea.

“Like I said,” Riki replies, folding his arms with a dramatic sigh. “That boy ruins your studies. You could look for a boyfriend somewhere else.”

You groan, running a hand down your face. The memory of Jungwon’s hurt, betrayed expression as he walked away is burned into your mind. But there’s something even more pressing you need to know. You fix Riki with a narrowed gaze, your brow arching suspiciously. “Why did you say you were my boyfriend?”

For the first time, Riki hesitates. His usually confident demeanor falters, and a sheepish smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding your glare like a guilty child caught red-handed.

“I mean… it’s the most effective method to turn a guy away,” he says finally, shrugging like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you deadpan, but Riki presses on, completely unfazed.

“It’s just basic strategy,” he explains, nodding as though he’s a seasoned love expert. “I’ve read enough online to know that guys back off when they think someone’s already taken. Works like a charm.”

You stare at him, incredulous. The audacity of this device—no, this thing—is beyond anything you’ve ever encountered. “You’re basing my love life on… internet articles?”

“Trust me,” he says with a wink, flashing a smug grin. “I’ve got access to all the data.”

You groan again, louder this time, wondering if tossing him into the trash bin would solve all your problems. If only.

Riki trails behind you as you climb the stairs to your apartment, his steps eerily silent despite his human-like form. At your door, you stop abruptly and turn to him, panic creeping into your voice. “Turn back into a phone, Niki. Now.”

He folds his arms and tilts his head, looking every bit like a rebellious teenager. “You literally named me Riki. Can you settle on one name for once?” His tone carries a tinge of irritation, and you blink in disbelief at the audacity of your phone to talk back to you.

“Okay, fine. My dear Riki, please turn back into a phone—”

Before you can finish, your mother’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “Y/N! Are you back yet?”

Your heart lurches, a surge of panic shooting through you. Your eyes dart to Riki, your expression pleading. “Turn back into a phone. Now,” you hiss under your breath, motioning wildly for him to do something—anything—before disaster strikes.

To your immense relief, Riki flashes you an exaggerated wink and morphs seamlessly back into your phone, the glowing screen dimming as he settles into your palm. You clutch him tightly, hiding him in your fist just as the door swings open.

Your mother appears, her usual stern expression replaced with something unnervingly mild. “Why are you standing there? Come inside and study.”

Her voice is calm—too calm. It sends a shiver down your spine. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost believe this gentleness was her true nature. But you do know better, and you don’t trust it for a second.

“Coming,” you mumble, stepping inside. Your stepdad is lounging on the couch, the rustle of his newspaper the only sound he makes. You deliberately avoid his gaze, moving as quietly as possible. Your footsteps are measured and light as you head straight for your room, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

Once inside, you let out a long, weary sigh, your body sinking onto the bed. The room is dim, curtains drawn tightly shut to block out the evening light. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out Riki and place him beside you on the bed.

“Hey,” you whisper, exhaustion evident in your voice. “You can turn into a human now.”

Barely a second passes before a familiar presence materializes next to you. Riki sits there, leaning back casually against the headboard like he owns the place. His eyes sparkle with that same smug mischief, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

The two of you are lying side by side, close enough for your shoulders to brush. The thought hits you suddenly: if anyone walked in right now, they’d think you were a couple. The intimacy of the moment feels strangely... natural.

But you shake the thought away, annoyed at yourself for even entertaining it. You’re not interested in Riki like that. You’re not. Except...

You steal a glance at him. His human form is alarmingly realistic, right down to the faint curve of his lips and the way his hair falls perfectly out of place.

Maybe you’re not interested in Jungwon anymore. Maybe—just maybe—you like Riki instead.

But there’s no way you’d ever admit that. Not to him. The moment those words leave your mouth, he’ll launch into some long-winded lecture about how technology can’t reciprocate feelings. You’d never hear the end of it.

Riki catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, smirking. “What?”

“Nothing,” you snap, turning away quickly, cheeks heating up.

“Sure,” he drawls, his tone dripping with playful suspicion. “Keep telling yourself that, Y/N.”

You groan, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it. He laughs, the sound annoyingly human, as he ducks out of the way.

This is your life now, you think, burying your face in your hands. And somehow, against all odds, you don’t entirely hate it.

An idea sparks in your mind as you turn onto your side, your gaze landing on Riki. He’s sitting upright, leaning back against the headboard, his expression unreadable. You hesitate for a moment before speaking, voice soft yet teasing. “Hey… since you’re a phone—”

Riki tilts his head slightly, intrigued, the faintest arch of his brow urging you to continue. He lets out a curious hum, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he waits for whatever nonsense you’re about to spout.

For all his smugness, you remind yourself, Riki is still a phone. And phones are supposed to be smart, right? Smarter than this, at least.

You clear your throat, sitting up just enough to meet his gaze. “So, I’m in search of a boyfriend,” you begin, the words tumbling out too quickly. You falter for a second as Riki’s side-eye nearly makes you choke on your own sentence. His expression is the perfect mix of judgmental and unimpressed—eerily similar to your mom’s whenever she catches you slacking off on your studies.

“Of course, while studying too,” you add hastily, holding your hands up defensively. You know better than to ignore the unspoken priorities Riki seems to share with your mother.

He doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue. You take a deep breath, your next words tumbling out in one rushed, embarrassed blur. “Wouldn’t it be nice if you… you know, taught me how to kiss?”

Riki’s reaction is immediate and comical. His eyes widen, and his lips part as if he’s about to say something, only for his voice to falter into a confused sputter. “What??”

His expression is so innocent, so utterly clueless, that you almost feel guilty. But not enough to take it back. A tiny part of you is curious—what would it feel like, even if he isn’t technically human?

“Is that how single you really are?” Riki’s voice drips with mockery, his lips twitching into an amused smirk. “Seriously?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you throw the nearest pillow at him in a half-hearted attempt to regain your dignity. “Don’t act like you’re better than me,” you snap, though your voice lacks bite. “I’m just—curious, okay? And you’re the first guy I’ve been close to, so it’s only natural!”

Riki doesn’t look convinced. If anything, he looks even more amused. “Natural? That’s bold coming from someone asking her phone for kissing lessons.”

You roll your eyes, frustrated but undeterred. “You’re not just a phone! You’re—well, you’re you. And besides,” you mutter, lowering your gaze, “it’s not like you’ll judge me for being bad at it. You’re not even real.”

“Ouch.” Riki places a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Not real? I’m literally the only reason you’re not failing your exams right now.”

You bury your face in your hands, groaning. “Forget I said anything.”

But Riki isn’t letting this go. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that,” he says, leaning back with a smug grin. “Is it because you think I don’t understand emotions the way a human does?”

You hesitate, guilt pricking at the edges of your conscience. “No! That’s not—”

He cuts you off with a knowing look, his smirk softening just slightly. “Relax. You’re single. It’s pathetic, but I get it.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mutter, rolling your eyes as you grab the blanket and throw it over the both of you.

You roll closer to him, your face buried in his chest as you sigh dramatically. “See?” you mumble, your voice muffled. “I’ve been single my whole life. No boyfriend, no first kiss, nothing. You’re the only guy who’s stuck around, and even then, you’re technically stuck with me.”

Riki rolls his eyes, a mix of pity and exasperation crossing his face. “Wow. Way to guilt-trip your phone.”

You peek up at him, hopeful. “So… will you?”

He shakes his head, clearly unimpressed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Is that a yes?”

Riki sighs, muttering something under his breath about how pathetic humans are. But he doesn’t move away, which you decide to take as a yes.

After all, he’s just a machine, right? He doesn’t understand what this means. Not really. And that’s exactly why you’re doing this—or at least, that’s what you tell yourself as your heart pounds in your chest.

Your eyes light up the moment Riki nods, the glowing screen above his head dimming to black. Without a second thought, you grab a pillow and plop it over his face as you climb onto him, pinning him down. Or at least, you try to pin him down—because no matter how much determination you pour into your stance, it’s painfully obvious you’re more like an ant attempting to subdue an elephant.

Still, you try to exude confidence, looking down at him with a smirk. “Only for research purposes… of course,” you announce dramatically, hands planted on his chest like you’re staking your claim.

Riki, unimpressed as always, rolls his eyes. “Yeah… research purposes,” he repeats with dripping sarcasm.

He shifts under you, and for a brief moment, you forget he’s a phone. Forget that his abilities extend far beyond your average human knowledge. Within seconds, he’s analyzing articles, tutorials, and even kissing technique videos from the depths of the internet. His hands move to cup your cheeks, startling you with the sheer firmness of his touch.

“Hey, gentle!” you mumble, your words muffled by the pressure on your cheeks. You raise a hand to tap against his shoulder, a mix of surprise and irritation bubbling up. “You’re squishing my face!”

Riki’s hands retreat instantly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. For all his snark and superiority, you realize he doesn’t quite know his own strength—or, perhaps, he doesn’t understand the delicacy required for moments like this. After all, he’s a phone. Why would he know?

He clears his throat, his tone shifting into something more clinical, more detached. “According to the articles—”

You don’t let him finish. Before he can launch into a lecture, you lean forward and press your lips to his, cutting him off entirely.

It’s messy, clumsy even, your inexperience showing in the way your lips move against his. But the taste of him—soft, cool, and faintly electric—takes you by surprise. Not that you’ve kissed anyone else before, but something about this feels… better. Different.

“Just feel,” you whisper against his lips, your breath mingling with his in the quiet room. For once, Riki doesn’t argue, doesn’t mock. His hands find their way to your waist, steadying you with an ease that betrays his otherwise flustered expression.

He’s stunned. Completely and utterly stunned. For a first kiss, you’re better than he would have expected, not that he’d ever admit it. He wonders, fleetingly, if this is what those articles meant by connection.

And then, just as he’s starting to process the whirlwind of sensations, you stop. You rest your head against his chest, your body growing heavier as exhaustion takes over.

“Wait—are you falling asleep?” he asks, incredulous.

Your response is a barely coherent mumble, your lips still lightly pressed against his. “Mhm. Tired.”

Riki sighs, frustration laced with disbelief. He feels the faint trickle of drool escaping from your mouth onto his, his lips parting in distaste. “Hey, you’re drooling—”

“Charge you in the morning,” you murmur sleepily, cutting him off again.

He stares at you, torn between exasperation and something he can’t quite place. He adjusts you carefully, shifting your weight so you’re resting more comfortably against his chest. He makes sure your head doesn’t slide too close to his charging port—because as awkward as this moment is, he’s not about to risk short-circuiting because of you.

Still, as he looks down at your peaceful expression, a strange sensation tugs at him. It’s foreign, unquantifiable, something no article or video could explain. He brushes a hand over your hair, his touch surprisingly gentle, and lets out a soft sigh.

“Is this… what they meant?” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

The answer doesn’t come, but for once, Riki doesn’t feel the need to know.

You wake up with a soft murmur, the warmth of sleep still clinging to your skin. You realize, half-dazed, that your arms are wrapped around what feels like a body—Riki’s body. His form is strangely solid and comforting, and in your sleepy haze, you have no intention of moving. His warmth against you is too cozy, and the soft rise and fall of his “chest”—though artificial—makes you feel safer than you have in a while.

“Riki...” you murmur again, still unsure of what time it is, your words heavy with drowsiness. But then, you feel the slight shift of his body, and you hear his voice—distorted and rough, as though it's being dragged from the depths of a drained battery.

“My battery's low,” he whispers, a groan underlying his words. “Please charge me real quick...” His voice cracks, but you can't help but chuckle at how human it sounds, despite him being technically not a person.

You bury your face deeper into his chest, too comfortable to get up, and in a daze, you mumble, “Just five more minutes... I'm too cozy...”

But Riki doesn’t let you get away with it. There’s a slight, almost exaggerated sigh from him before he says, “No... It's literally six a.m.... Please get ready... for school.”

You groan in response, the panic setting in as you finally start to register his words. “Mom should've woken me up...” You shoot out of bed, suddenly scrambling to get ready. The weight of the morning hits you all at once—your mind still fuzzy but your body on overdrive as you throw yourself into a frenzy of motion.

Your fingers tremble as you tug off your pajama top, realizing with horror that you haven't even showered. You curse under your breath, glancing at Riki, who’s still next to you.

Your heart skips a beat. Wait.

“Riki,” you mutter, an unsettling thought popping into your head. You pause, standing mid-action, your clothes half-changed. “Did you always see me change?” Your voice cracks as you ask, and your cheeks start to heat up, a flush spreading across your face as the realization creeps in.

You’ve always placed your phone on the bed or on the drawer while changing. Could he have been watching all this time, even before his human-phone transformation?

You glance over at Riki, and to your surprise, you see his screen flicker with a rapid flush of red, like he's embarrassed. His voice, strained and hurried, shoots back at you, “NO!” It's a sharp refusal, almost defensive, and it makes you pause in your tracks.

“Did you...?” you ask again, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“I said NO!” His voice is forceful now, though still faint from the low battery, and you can see the unmistakable redness flickering across his screen. It’s such a far cry from the dispassionate, cold phone he once was, and it throws you off. Was this the same Riki who had no emotions at all when he first turned into a human? The same one who would have no qualms about anything?

The thought makes you chuckle nervously, trying to dismiss the awkwardness that crawls up your neck. “Okay, okay, I get it. Stop yelling.”

You roll your eyes and go back to getting dressed, though the entire room suddenly feels way smaller than it should. You can’t help but throw a glance at Riki again—who, despite being a phone, seems to be desperately looking away from you, his screen flickering like a bashful person avoiding eye contact.

As you change, you remind yourself over and over that Riki is just a phone—a very advanced phone, yes, but still just a phone. It’s only logical that he can’t be embarrassed. You try to shrug it off, but the blush still lingers on your cheeks.

Once you’re dressed, the urgency hits you again. You’re running late, and the panic sets in like a wave. You grab your bag and rush around the room, tossing items into it without thinking—until you remember.

“Oh shoot! Riki!” You scramble for your phone, your fingers fumbling as you finally find him on the bed. You look at his screen, blinking. Wait. Is he still charging?

But before you can get the chance to plug him in, Riki’s voice cracks again, a little louder this time, and it’s so faint you barely catch it. “You’re really going to leave me like this...?” he asks, almost accusing.

You freeze, your guilt swelling as you gaze at him, knowing that if you didn’t charge him now, he’d be completely dead by the time you get back. With a deep breath, you plug him in quickly, hoping the connection will last until you return.

But the weird thing is, for the first time, you realize that in a twisted way—this phone might actually be the one who understands you better than anyone else.

You’re practically panting by the time you get to school, the weight of your backpack pressing down on you with every step. Your stomach growls in protest, reminding you that in your mad rush, you forgot your tiffin at home. Great. Just great.

But the real problem is the five marks. The professor’s new rule is burning a hole in your mind: Whoever comes late will have five marks deducted. It's just five marks, but it might as well be the difference between life and death. Okay, maybe not life or death, but definitely failure.

You’re barely scraping by in math, and losing even those five marks would push you into the dreaded abyss of failure. You can already feel the weight of your mother’s disapproval on your shoulders, and you really don’t want that. Not today. Not ever.

Your school isn’t far—just a fifteen-minute walk—but with the panic setting in, your legs are moving faster than your brain. Walking = fine. Running = late. You’d prefer to walk but today, you’re in run mode, your heart hammering against your chest, your breath coming in quick, sharp gasps.

“Who even made schools?” you mutter under your breath, sweat trickling down your neck. You can already feel your body protesting against the injustice of it all. As if it weren't bad enough, your backpack feels like a weight you’re carrying to the moon.

You round the corner, spotting a few other late students sneaking in, looking as panicked as you feel. The guard is too busy talking to someone else to notice, and you take full advantage of it, slipping through the gate like a ninja trained by your mother herself. You’ve gotten really good at this.

When you reach the classroom, relief floods over you. The professor isn’t there yet. Thank goodness. You rush to the nearest available seat—right next to Jungwon. It's the only one left, and you’re not about to argue. You plop down with a loud sigh, feeling the adrenaline start to wear off, leaving you a little breathless.

But then Jungwon turns to you, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Does your boyfriend not come to our school?”

You blink. Boyfriend? Who—what?

“I have a boyfriend?” You ask, clearly puzzled, still catching your breath.

“Uh… the one I met last night when you were throwing trash…” he adds, trailing off awkwardly, clearly unsure of himself now. “Is he not your boyfriend?”

Your stomach flips. Oh, God. This is it. Your brain starts spinning, and suddenly your mouth feels dry. You can’t go back on yesterday's statement. You definitely can’t let Jungwon go back to your mom and casually mention you have a boyfriend. That would end with your mother’s legendary interrogation skills being put into full force, and you’re not sure you’d survive it.

You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.

OPTION (A) : You could admit Riki isn’t your boyfriend, but that would open a whole new can of worms, and you can already hear Jungwon’s voice in your head: “Wait, so who was that guy?” Not a conversation you want to have.

OPTION (B) : You could tell him that Riki is just a friend, but that might lead to even more awkward questions, and you have no idea how you’d explain that whole situation without sounding like you’re caught in a web of lies.

But before you can choose, the door creaks open, and the professor walks in, immediately starting the lesson. You have no choice but to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Yes, he’s my boyfriend.” The words come out, and you instantly regret them. You can practically hear the sound of your own gulp echoing in your ears. Jungwon, looking slightly taken aback, awkwardly nods, unsure of how to respond. He’s clearly not going to ask more questions—at least not here—and his attention turns back to the professor.

You breathe a sigh of relief, but the panic is still bubbling inside you. You’ve just added another layer of complication to your already messy life. Now, you’re officially that girl—the one with a mysterious, possibly nonexistent boyfriend who has a habit of turning into a human phone. What could go wrong?

You sneak a glance down at your phone, trying to be as discreet as possible. Back in the day, you would’ve been nervously fidgeting in your seat next to Jungwon, trying not to spill your awkwardness all over the place. But right now? You couldn’t care less about Jungwon. All you could think about was that handsome guy who had somehow turned into your phone.

Why are you so cute, Riki?

You tap your phone screen, waiting for it to light up, but nothing happens. You try again, your frustration building. Come on... please respond. This is getting ridiculous.

“Hey, Riki! Respond, please!” you whisper under your breath, glancing around quickly to make sure no one else is noticing your little outburst. Jungwon, who’s sitting right next to you, doesn’t seem to catch on. He’s too busy, probably thinking about his own thoughts. You, on the other hand, are glued to your phone, silently begging for Riki to do anything.

But no, nothing happens. It's like he's just… ignoring you. And that drives you crazy. Why isn't he responding? Was it because you're sitting next to Jungwon? Did he suddenly become jealous?

The thought of Riki acting all possessive, even from within your phone, actually makes you giggle. But your giggles quickly turn into frustration again as your screen stays blank.

So, you do what anyone would do in this situation: you bury yourself in your notes, hoping that focusing on your studies will distract you from the fact that Riki, your human-turned-phone boyfriend, is giving you the silent treatment. You're still a bit puzzled by the whole situation.

Finally when classes end, and your backpack feels impossibly heavy as you hurriedly shove your books inside. You’re already planning your escape when Jungwon calls out to you.

“Hey Y/n, would you be up for a study session? You can bring your boyfriend too…” His words trail off, clearly surprised by how quickly you’re moving to leave.

Your reaction is instantaneous: you bolt out of there like you’ve just been given an Olympic sprinting challenge, the door swinging behind you with a dramatic swoosh. You don’t even wait for a reply, practically disappearing from his sight.

Jungwon, stunned, blinks a couple of times before finally muttering, “What… just happened?”

“Must be her boyfriend,” Eunmi remarks, her voice strangely neutral instead of the usual sharp tone she reserves for anything remotely related to you. She looks over at Jungwon, her gaze lingering for a moment, before turning her attention elsewhere. Jungwon, though, is far less enthusiastic about packing his bag now, his thoughts clearly on something else.

Meanwhile, you can’t help but laugh a little as you make your way out of the building. There’s no way you were going to let Riki’s weird silence ruin your day. Besides, you’d figured it out—he's just being a dramatic phone, and you’re not about to let that control you. At least, not for now.

As you leave, you can’t stop thinking about how ridiculously possessive he’s been lately. Maybe he does feel something. You can’t help but smile, a little too fond of your human-turned-phone.

As soon as you get home, you plug Riki in, sighing in relief as the charging icon pops up on your screen. You can hear your mom in the background, rambling about your day at school, but honestly? You don’t have the energy to care. You flop onto your bed, completely drained, and let out a deep breath as you watch Riki slowly transform back into a human.

“Thank goodness,” you mutter, finally feeling a little more at ease.

“You should've just charged me in the morning,” he grumbles, still holding the charging wire in his mouth. It's almost comical how he’s still acting like a phone despite being human now.

“Sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, a small smile creeping onto your face despite how tired you are. But then, as the moment settles, a thought hits you, and you can't help but ask, “Do you ever think you'll go back to being a normal phone? Or am I stuck with you like this forever?”

Riki hums in response, the charging wire still hanging from his mouth. “Not sure.”

“Of course you're not sure,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. But a tiny knot of worry tightens in your stomach. The idea of him eventually disappearing back into your phone, of him going back to being just an object, stings more than you'd like to admit. He might be your phone, but the human version? He's been becoming something else to you lately. And you don’t know if you're ready to lose that just yet.

Two months had passed, and it was starting to feel like Riki was slowly slipping away. At first, it was subtle—just a few hours of the day where he stayed in phone form. But today? Nothing. No human version of Riki, just your regular, lifeless phone.

You poke at your lunch with a fork, but how could you even eat when your mind keeps wandering back to your phone? It’s just sitting there on the table, performing like a regular device, no magic, no human form.

“Is something wrong?” Jungwon asks, glancing up from his own lunch. Eunmi’s sitting across from you, not even trying to be friendly, as usual.

“You should watch your phone less,” Eunmi comments, and you roll your eyes, trying to ignore her. If only she knew how much your phone meant to you right now.

You swipe left and right, desperately trying to find something—anything—that could explain why Riki’s still not turning human. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, but this feels like some sort of betrayal from a phone.

“Hmmph,” you mutter under your breath, but it doesn't help. The weight of Eunmi’s voice still lingers in your mind, but you’re too focused on the empty feeling of staring at a screen that’s supposed to be connected to something more.

“Why is he not becoming a human?” you mumble, too frustrated to care that you’re speaking aloud. The problem? Only you know about Riki’s transformation, so you can’t even vent about it to anyone.

“What?” Eunmi asks, her eyebrow arching as she shares a confused look with Jungwon.

You wave it off, brushing away the awkwardness, and go back to stabbing at your lunch. But it’s no use—the food tastes bland, almost like cardboard. Honestly, at this point, the only thing that could make it better is if Riki turned back into the human version of himself and saved you from this mess of a lunch. But nope, your phone’s just sitting there, mocking you.

You somehow manage to finish the rest of the school day, the classes dragging by like a blur, but the one thing that kept bothering you was that Riki was still not turning human.

“Ugh, this isn’t working,” you mutter to yourself as you stand in front of the repair shop owner, trying not to look too ridiculous. You can already feel the weight of the situation—the shopkeeper can’t possibly know about your phone turning into a human, can he? That would be absurd.

“What exactly is the problem?” he asks, tilting his head as he takes your phone to inspect it.

You freeze. What exactly do you say? You can’t tell him that your phone is a person who’s been hanging out as a human every now and then, right? It sounds insane.

“Uh…,” you stammer, struggling for an explanation, but it’s useless. You’re not sure what to say that wouldn’t get you committed to some strange techy cult or a mental hospital.

“It’s all good, ma’am,” he says with a sigh, handing your phone back to you, like everything is totally normal. But if everything is “all good,” why isn’t Riki turning back into a human?

You leave the store, confusion taking over. The lighthearted, slightly strange feeling you once had about Riki being a human version of a phone has now been replaced with a gnawing emptiness. You can’t shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, he’s gone for good.

Your bag feels heavier than usual, weighed down by the thoughts swirling in your mind. You drag yourself home, the steps feeling longer than normal, as if the world is slowly sinking into a gray, monotonous fog.

“How was school?” your stepdad asks, the usual cheerful tone in his voice, but you can’t bring yourself to answer. You barely acknowledge his question, as you’re still lost in your own thoughts. You hear your mom sigh, disappointed, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You head straight to your room, exhaustion taking over. You plug Riki in to charge, desperate to see that familiar human version of him again. The seconds tick by as you watch the charging light glow. But nothing changes. The charging is full. Riki is still… just a phone.

You sigh heavily, sinking down on your bed. What if he’s really gone for good? You can't help but feel like you're losing a part of your world, and suddenly, the idea of just using a regular phone feels... boring.

Tears well up in your eyes as you stubbornly mutter, “I won’t talk to you ever if you don't turn in now!” The words feel hollow the second they leave your lips, but it’s a lie you tell yourself. You would never stop talking to Riki, not for anything. But a small part of you is desperate for him to just... come back. You need to see him as a human again, even if you know that it might not happen.

“Please!” you whisper desperately, pressing your lips against the cold screen of your phone, leaving a red imprint there. It’s a pathetic gesture, but it’s all you can think of. A little kiss for him, as if that might somehow wake him up from whatever spell he’s trapped in.

“Fine. Don’t come,” you mutter, frustration taking over as you place the phone back on the study desk. The weight of the situation settles in as you slump down onto the bed, still in your school clothes. You don’t even care to change—you're too tired, too emotionally drained from everything.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been lying there, staring at the ceiling, but it doesn’t matter. Sleep overtakes you, and you drift off in the quiet of your room, lost in the silence.

Suddenly, you feel it—the presence of someone standing above you. A familiar weight in the air, but not the same as before. You rub your eyes, blinking away the grogginess, and then you see him.

Riki.

He’s standing there, in front of you, and your breath catches. But then, your eyes widen in shock. His body is covered in marks. Red, faint imprints that make your face burn as you realize—those are from your kisses. The ones you left on the screen, desperate for him to turn back. It’s embarrassing, but there's no time for that now. You throw yourself at him, arms wide as you practically tackle him with a hug.

His shirt wrinkles beneath your fingers as you clutch it tight, a mixture of relief and frustration in your chest. You pull away, looking up at him, almost desperate. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you turn back?” Your voice cracks, the raw emotion flooding through you, but the words tumble out in a mess of desperation.

But then, he pushes you away. You stumble back slightly, the sudden distance between you too much to handle.

“I couldn’t turn,” he says, his voice low, almost pained. “And I think it’s better if you don’t get too attached. I’m just a device, remember?” He speaks the words softly, but there’s a coolness to them that hurts.

You blink, the words settling into your chest like a stone. “Why can’t you stay like this forever?” The question slips out before you can stop it, eyes burning with the need to understand. You feel his thumb brush away a tear that’s escaped down your cheek, but it only makes you feel more fragile. “I don’t understand… How can a phone... with no feelings... like me... feel something?”

He takes a deep breath, his gaze softening for just a moment. And then, for the first time since this entire weird and wonderful thing began, he steps closer. Your heart races as he closes the distance, and before you can even think, your hands are on his shirt, clutching it like it’s the only thing that’s keeping you grounded.

You pull him into a messy kiss, lips moving against his in a rush of desperation, a wild need to feel him close. You kiss him over and over again, each one more frantic than the last, but just as quickly as he was there...

Your lips meet nothing.

You pull back in confusion, eyes wide as you try to make sense of it. Where did he go? You open your eyes fully, but there's nothing in front of you. Just empty space.

Your phone falls to the ground, the sharp sound of it hitting the floor snapping you back to reality. You kneel down quickly, heart pounding, and check it, relieved to see that it's still in one piece. No cracks, no breaks. Just a phone.

And then, it hits you.

You can’t keep holding on to something—or someone—that isn’t real. You swallow hard, tears welling up in your eyes again as you stare at the device in your hands, the phone that was once a person to you. The bittersweet smile on your lips isn’t one of happiness, but of acceptance and yet... sadness.

“Fine,” you whisper to no one in particular. “I’ll check off the three tasks on my to-do list. You’ll be proud of me.”

But as you stare at the phone, your thumb grazing over its screen, you know deep down that it’s not the tasks that need to be checked off.

It’s your heart.

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[ethanfundraising]

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[leeknowlover99]

What kind of polaroid pic of you enhypen would have under their phone case (sfw)

masterlist

Heesung

Hee would have a polaroid pic of both of you, him holding your waist and you kissing him on the cheek, him grinning at the camera.

Jay

Since it is the photo for everyone’s eyes Jay would have a pic of you posing together at a party or an event - both dressed up and looking your best.

Jake

I feel like Jake would have a playful polaroid of you - you smiling or laughing maybe a bit blurry as it was taken spontaneously. Maybe also a picture of you two fooling around and doing funny poses.

Sunghoon

He would have a pretty picture of you - most likely from one of your dates, taken at the pretty setting maybe with cherry blossom flowers or on the ice rink during Christmas season.

Jungwon

He would definitely ask for a cute polaroid, make you pose with cat ears or make a heart, you would be smiling at him taking the pic. Could be a selfie of both of you as well.

Sunoo

I think Sunoo would want to have a selfie of both of you, i also think he would love to take new polaroids and change them every month always coming up with fun ideas for pictures.

Niki

This boy would have a cool polaroid of you, he would take it sneakily at one of your late night walks, picture a bit blurry with a flash, very low key and aesthetic.

[saeivra]

OH, MY GOODLOOKING BOY

synopsis: telling enhypen (hyungline) that you find them good looking!<3

warnings: fluff, face kisses (?) anything else lmk!

-LEE HEESEUNG-

You and Heeseung were in the middle of playing video games, and Heeseung's focus was ALL over the screen, not daring to take a break. But yours? Not so much. From his eyes to his jawline, you were eyeing him down. After dying and throwing his remote on the sofa, Heeseung noticed your gaze piercing through your eyes. "Babe? What's wrong? Something on my face?" "Nope...It's just.." "Just what?" you cupped his face in your hands, and kissed his forehead. "You're so cute..Good-looking, not to mention.." Heeseung immediately smiled and kissed you back "All that staring just to tell me I'm good-looking? Damn, I must be very cute then."

-PARK JEONGSONG-

Cooking with Jay was always fun. He found easy recipes online just to remake them time and time again with a cute twist on it. If was a special thing you two always loved to do. On today's menu, you both were frying some fish, coating it in batter, then powder, then frying it. "Jay! Look at the mess we've made!!" You pointed to all of the flour spilled on the table, all over your shirt and everything. "Oh....We should just-" He began to clean everything up, gently pushing you out of the way so he didn't hurt you. Cute. "What?" Jay asked, noticing your gaze. "Mmm..Nothing, your kinda cute when you're being useful." Jay chuckled "Am I not usually?" "Nope. You're usually good-looking, but cute? No. Not really" "Yeah yeah...Now are you gonna help me or not? This mess isn't gonna clean itself up!" He mumbled, shortly after kissing your nose "Sure.." You said, with a bright smile ear to ear

-SIM JAEYHUN-

Watching movies with Jake was always cozy. Like instinct, you both would cuddle up right next to each other and watch whatever movie in pure silence, occasionally pressing kisses to eachothers forehead, nose and lips. But the way Jake's side profile reflected off the light of the movie screen, it was captivating....Hard to look away..You found yourself staring with heart eyes, practically screaming that you're in love with him. "Baby you've been staring for over 10 minutes. Am I really that beautiful?" "Yes sir you are. Way too good-looking for my eyes I can't even focus!" You groaned, throwing up your hands in the air to prove a point. "Shhh..Focus on the movie baby hush" He shushed you, pressing his lips against your and faintly holding your hand, making you wish that you could have him forever, and never let go.

-PARK SUNGHOON-

Getting Sunghoon's makeup approval was almost a crucial thing in your daily life. Was this blush okay? Did it go well with my outfit? Sunghoon was there for every step of it, Spoiling you with his opinions and statements, Helping you feel truly comfortable putting on makeup. But Sunghoon puttting on makeup always upset you. Why did his already beautiful face need some? So today, you decided to tell him just that. "Hoon!" You called, eager to find him. "Yes, Y/N? Something wrong?" His eyes met yours as you removed the concealer from his hand. "Babe, seriously..Where are you gonna put this? Your fine face is already beautiful enough and not showered in blemishes like mine is..Baby you don't need it". Sunghoon smiled at you. "Really? Don't I tell you that every day? But you still put it on-" "Hoon! I'm serious, Your so good looking that everyone else could use it but you!! I swear there is no use for this!!" You whined, only for your whines to be shushed and for him to kiss your lips quiet. "Am I really that good looking you got into a hissy fit?" He chuckled while caressing your face

-LA FIN-

a/n: gonna let this simmer overnight🫡 i can't even call this a/n bc I ain't no author😭 also I'm so sorry that I put u thru reading this😭😭 but if you (rarely) enjoyed feel free to reblog and like! merci! :) not proof read

perm tl: @jayparked

[lunarisntlee]

Sensitive Hyung~

Lee: Yeonjun

Ler: Enhypen

[Based on the moment of Jungwon poking blindfolded Yeonjun at inkigayo]

“So where exactly are we going?” Yeonjun questioned to the inkigayo staff. He couldn’t see a thing, having a blindfold covering his eyes, so he moved carefully as the staff guided him.

“It’s a surprise.” One of the male staff replies, hiding any obvious emotion to not spoil the surprise.

The eldest txt member was a bit skeptical, but he didn’t act on his suspicions and just went along with them. Little did he know his junior group was just upstairs.

Upstairs with Enhypen

“Jungwon-ah, can you hand me my phone over there?” Heeseung requests the leader in a relatively respectful way. Meanwhile Jungwon responds by throwing Heeseung’s phone at him with a cheeky grin on his face. The elder quickly scrambled to catch it, almost dropping it in the process. The leader was clearly feeling like being a brat today.

“Yah! Respect your elders!” Heeseung exclaimed, clearly annoyed. Jungwon just grinned cheekily at him. “Sorry~” The younger replies halfheartedly which earns an eye roll from the elder.

The rest of enhypen were talking and lightly joking with each other. Essentially all sharing a singular brain cell.

Back to Yeonjun

The inkigayo staff continue to guide Yeonjun. He ends up running into a trash can in the process, making them laugh while Yeonjun chuckles out of embarrassment. “That didn’t happen-“ He muttered.

The staff laugh more for a moment at his response before getting back to their job.

“Are we almost there?” Yeonjun asks with a whiny tone, starting to get bored.

“Almost there.” Another staff member replies.

And then the sounds of the enhypen members could be heard as the seven of them walked downstairs. They see Yeonjun and snicker in amusement, having no idea why he was blindfolded. Yeonjun’s head turns toward the sounds.

“Yahh, who’s there? It’s enhypen isn’t it?” He guesses, the younger group chuckling as he was right about who was there.

Jungwon, still feeling mischievous, sneaks over to Yeonjun and pokes his stomach once, earning a surprised ‘agh’ from the older.

The rest of enhypen chuckles in amusement before continuing to walk downstairs to where they were originally headed.

“Are you feeling embarrassed?” One of the staff asks as they also found it funny how he reacted. “Yes.” Yeonjun replies with an flustered grin. Normally he wasn’t shy like this, so it was cute to see.

Eventually the staff finish guiding Yeonjun to the right direction.

“Take off the blindfold.”

Yeonjun removes the blindfold from his eyes and sees the rest of his group members had set up a surprise party for him and his solo debut. “Wahhh~” He grins as he runs his hand through his hair, definitely not expecting this.

“Congrats!!” The rest of the members chimed, or said some sort of variation. 

__________________________________

After a chaotic party, Yeonjun then started to head out, walking back towards the entrance, until he gets stopped by enhypen. The seven of them seemed to have some mischief planned.

“Hyung! We have something to show you, can you lay down over there real quick?” Sunoo requests innocently, pointing at a nearby sofa. Yeonjun shrugs and sits on the sofa, not suspecting anything. At first.

Sunghoon then pulls out the blindfold from earlier. “Do you trust us hyung?”

Yeonjun then started to seem skeptical, but nodded as he let Sunghoon put the blindfold over his eyes. Jake gently pushed him to lay down on the sofa on his back. Yeonjun couldn’t lie, he was starting to get a bit nervous.

“So hyung, we have a game we want to play with you.” Heeseung states, looking at the rest of enhypen.

“What is it?” The elder questions.

“It’s called…left or right. You have to guess what side we’ll poke you on and if you’re right, you win that round. But if you’re wrong, one of us gets to tickle a random spot for 30 seconds.” Heeseung answers as Yeonjun appears to be trying not to fluster. He decides he wants to toughen it out.

“Good luck, I’m not very ticklish.” Yeonjun says, lying straight through his teeth.

“Sure you’re not.” Niki replied in a sarcastic tone. “As if you’re one to talk.” Jungwon teases, earning a lighthearted glare from the youngest.

“Left or right?” Heeseung asks.

“Hmm…right.”

“Aaaand you are…wrong!” Heeseung chimes playfully as his hands immediately start to skitter against his ribs. Yeonjun lets out a choked laugh as he starts to squirm. Rib tickles for 30 seconds? It was practically torture.

“gAHHaaHhAh heheeeehehEheseUuhung ahAhhah wahhHhaait-!” Yeonjun pleaded through his laughter.

“Awhh hyung, you’re adorable~” Sunoo teases with a wide grin, not that Yeonjun could see it though. It was adorable seeing the all rounder giggling like a child.

“NahaHhaHaha cohoOhome oHohoOn!” Yeonjun yelped. As ticklish as it was, he didn’t want to upset his juniors by making them stop, so he allows them to continue the little game.

After 30 seconds, Heeseung stops, leaving a slightly panting Yeonjun underneath him. Heeseung then gets off and Jay sits on Yeonjun’s thighs this time. “Left or right hyung?”

“L-Leheft-“

“Correct~” Jay says playfully as he doesn’t tickle him. Yeonjun sighs in relief as Jake then takes the spot and asks. “Right or left?” He asks, hoping that would throw Yeonjun off.

“L-left, no wait right-!” It did successfully throw him off which got a few snickers out of the youngers.

“You can’t change your answer hyung! And you’re wrong!” Jake got really excited to be able to do the tickling since he rarely got to and instantly dug his fingers up into Yeonjun’s armpits. Which elicited a squeal from Yeonjun.

“WHHAahAHAHaiAAIT NOOHOOHOHOT THEHEHEEEHERE-“ The poor thing cackled underneath Jake and squirmed in useless attempts to escape. His head whipped from side to side as laughter spilled from his mouth.

“Ooooh, definitely keeping this spot in mind.” Jake teases as he relishes in the 30 seconds he gets to basically torture his hyung.

“JAAHAAHAAHHAKE AHAHAAH GAAAAHAHAH NOHOHHOHOOO SHIIHHIHIHIT-!”

“Swearing already? We still have four members to go~” Heeseung adds in, as a giggly whine escapes Yeonjun.

Thirty torturous seconds pass and Yeonjun is finally free from the attack on his armpits. He pants as extraneous giggles slip from him. Sunghoon then takes Jake’s place, still amused as he watched Yeonjun lose his mind a few seconds ago.

“Left or right?”

“gAhh..ahhh…r-rihight-“ Poor jjunie was finding it harder to speak clearly.

“Right right.” Sunghoon confirms, getting off so Sunoo could have his turn. Yeonjun enjoyed the moment of reprieve, being able to calm his breathing. But it was short lived as Sunoo asked next.

“Left or hyung- I mean left or right-“ Sunoo stumbles on his words adorably, causing the rest to chuckle softly.

“Right-“ Yeonjun answers, earning Sunoo trying to imitate an incorrect buzzer. The younger then started to scribble his fingers on Yeonjun’s tummy. It seemed this spot wasn’t as sensitive as others.

“ahhhahahahehh y-yohohohou guhuhuuhuys ahahare kiihihiilling meheehee-“ Yeonjun comments as he giggles adorably, squirming slightly. The others cooed at him, loving his reactions.

“Awwww~” Sunoo teases, causing the elder’s cheeks to flush red.

“doohohohnt ‘aw’ mehee-!” He whines, opting to bury his face into his hands. Only for his arms to get pinned down by Jay. Which meant his red face was on full display.

Another 30 seconds pass and it’s now Jungwon’s turn. The one who came up with this idea in the first place.

“Right or left?” Jungwon asks, hoping Yeonjun would fall for it again.

“Left”

Dang, he didn’t fall for it again. Yeonjun certainly wasn’t one to fall for things twice. Jungwon reluctantly got off and allowed Niki to be seated. Yeonjun was relieved to be at the last person now.

“Up or down?” Niki jokes, earning amused giggles from the rest of enhypen. Yeonjun rolls his eyes playfully from under the blindfold. Before Yeonjun could answer though, Niki started to go after his hips. Poor Yeonjun started losing it…

“nononOnoNONONOHOOHOOOHHOOO NIHIHIIHKIIHIHIIH YOHOHOHOHOU AHAHAHAAHAHAHASS-!” Yeonjun burst out hysterically laughing as he threw his head back from how badly it tickled. He thrashed and squirmed wildly, Niki finding it a bit hard to stay on top of Yeonjun.

And just to be even more evil, he had started to go after his neck with one hand while the other still attacked his hips. Yeonjun felt like he was dying—poor thing was too ticklish.

“IHIIHIHIHI SWEHEHEHAAAHAHAR OHOOHOHN SOOOHOHOOBIHIHINS LEHEEHEHEFT BUUHUHUTT CHEHEEEHEK-“ This makes them all laugh as Yeonjun swears on Soobin’s butt.

“You’re silly hyung!” Sunghoon laughed as he now joined in by going after his kicking feet.

“YOHOHOHOHOURE TRHYIHING TOOHOHO KIHIHIIHIILL MEHEHEHEE-!” Yeonjun starts to snort through his laughter, that always meant that it truly was incredibly ticklish for him when he was laughing hard enough.

__________________________________

Eventually after a bit though, they finally relent, leaving a breathless Yeonjun still giggling a bit from the ghost tickles he felt. He was immediately given water and was quickly comforted by the younger ones to help him calm down.

“Sensitive hyungie~” Jake teases playfully.

“Oh shut up-“ Yeonjun flusteredly rolls his eyes.

Then Yeonjun went back to the txt dorm and enhypen went back to their dorm and they had a good day, the end. 🤍

[stariekis]

ops ... just got caught !

pairing : idol!ni-ki + fem!reader . genre : fluff . cw : kisses and i think that's all <3 . wc : 2.3k

— synopsis : you must be very careful confessing your feelings, that said person might hear you ...

— notes : i love my silly lil awkward ni-ki 🤲🏻 i really hope you guys like it <3 as always reposts are very welcomed here ! ~

— 'Oh my god yes I do have the biggest crush on her can you guys like leave me alone'. the other six boys that were sitting on the table right in front of ni-ki were in complete shock.

For a bit hit of context ; Ni-ki and you are childhood best friend, both of you traveled together to Korea wanting to be idols. But some years later you found out that maybe the idol life wasn't for you and decided to stop training and started studying again. Both of you kept in contact, even though he have the busiest scheduel ever he always makes sure to save some time of his day to talk to you.

Because of your studies you've been living abroad for some time now so you and Ni-ki haven't seen each other after the day you move to your current city. This lead us to the current situation.

You were standing behind his tall figure, your mouth hanging open as you heard what the boy just said. Today was the last stop of their 'fate tour', which happens to be the city where you where currently living, and you decide to surprise him at the restaurant where they planned on eating after the concert ended.

When Ni-ki saw all of his friends looking behind him with such expressions he turned around slowly. That's when his eyes met yours.

He didn't know what to feel, he was happy obviously but when he realized that you might have heard what he just said he felt a wave of awkwardness taking over his whole body.

He turned around as fast as he could and tried to hide his face in his hands, wanting to avoid your gaze. — 'Well hello to you too big boy' you said giggling a bit, you came closer to him and gave him a back hug while he was still sitting on his chair.

While hugging him you took his hands out of his face and gave him a quick peck on his red tinted cheeks — 'You heard that didn't you?' Ni-ki asked, tilting his head to the side a bit to look at you, finally able to look at your eyes.

You nodded, your hands intertwined with his as you play with his rings — 'And if you want an answer, i also have the biggest crush on you' and right after you gave him your answer to his confession he turned to you and got up from his chair.

He stood in front of you, his hands holding your face. He looked at your eyes and mouthed a silent 'are you serious?', as soon as you nooded your head he closed the gap between the two of you, kissing you softly.

— 'You two, this might be a private area but we are still here, save it for later' said Sunghoon. Ni-ki pulled away and look at his older brother with the most terrifying gaze he has ever give them.

All eight of you spent the rest of the night together. They kept asking you about your life there and you gladly told them, all of this happening while Ni-ki looked at you with the biggest loving eyes ever while listening to you.

What a better way to end such a successful tour than this ?

tag list (open.) : send an ask if you want to be added <3

[hazelira]

Hard to Love

The first time you ever thought love was real, it wilted between your fingers like a dying rose.

Yours had cupped its soft and silken petals, swearing that this time, it would not crumble. That this time, it wouldn’t leave you with the ache of thorns pressing into your palms. But love had never been a bloom meant for your hands; it had always been an illusion—pretty, fragrant, but fleeting.

Every who had whispered love into your ears had only ever wanted to taste you, to hold you in moments of hunger before discarding you once they were full. Every I love you had been a petal plucked too soon, another piece of you left to wither away on the cold ground.

You learned, through each heartbreak, that you were hard to love.

Because love, real love, didn’t come with conditions. It didn’t come with hands that touched but never held. It didn’t come with lips that kissed but never spoke the truth. And yet, time after time, you found herself tangled in it, watching it fall apart before your very eyes, questioning if love was even meant for you at all.

Then came Sunoo.

Sunoo, who never took from your hands but offered his own. Sunoo, who didn’t just look at you but saw you—the quiet tremble in your fingers, the hesitation in your smile, the way you flinched when love was promised like it was a debt waiting to be collected.

He never rushed you. Never demanded. He let you exist without expectation, which terrified you more than any heartbreak. Because if Sunoo was real, if what he offered was real, you had spent all this time accepting fakes.

“You are not hard to love, Y/N.”

His voice was gentle, like the wind that carried fallen petals, not letting them sink into the soil too soon.

“You just haven’t been loved the right way.”

You almost laughed. You almost turned away because you knew how this story ended. Sunoo would stay until he saw how much of a mess you were. He noticed that your heart was not a garden but a wasteland of wilted things, dried-up petals and thorns too sharp to hold until he saw that love slipped through your fingers like sand every time you dared to believe.

But Sunoo wasn’t like the others.

He was patient, even when you weren’t. He was steady, even when you tried to push him away. He held on, even when you swore you weren’t worth holding onto.

And one day, when you reached for his hand, not out of fear, but out of choice, you realized that maybe—just maybe—love wasn’t meant to be grasped too tightly. Perhaps it wasn’t something to keep caged in your palms, fearful of losing it. Perhaps real love was the kind that stayed without being asked, blooming even in the most unexpected places.

Maybe love was Sunoo.

And yet, fear had rooted itself so deeply within you that even sunlight felt like something to run from. It was in the way you hesitated when Sunoo said your name, in the way you second-guessed every moment of kindness he gave. The ghosts of past lovers still lingered like a scent that wouldn’t wash away, their echoes whispering, love is fleeting, love is cruel, love is not for you.

Some nights, you sat by your window, watching the moon carve silver scars into the dark sky, wondering if you could ever be enough for the kind of love that didn’t break your first. You thought of the guys who had touched your body but never your soul, the ones who had loved the idea of you but never the weight of who you indeed were. You thought of how they had taken without giving and plucked every petal until you had nothing but thorns and silence.

But then there was Sunoo.

Sunoo ran his fingers over the scars on your heart and kissed them like poetry. Sunoo didn’t shy away from the ruin she thought you had become but traced every crack as if mapping constellations in the night. Sunoo, who never once asked for the pieces of you, wasn’t ready to give but stayed, waiting, always waiting, until you were prepared to offer him yourself.

One evening, as the sky bled into shades of violet and gold, you whispered, trembling, into the space between them, “I’m afraid.”

Sunoo turned to you, the softness in his gaze unravelling every wall you had built. “Of what?”

“Of this. Of you. Of love.”

He smiled then, something fragile, something infinite. “Then let’s not rush. Let’s grow into it, like flowers finding the sun.”

And for the first time, love didn’t feel like something to fear. It didn’t feel like a petal waiting to fall or a promise waiting to be broken. It felt like something new. Something she might learn to believe in.

Maybe love was Sunoo.

And maybe—just maybe—you were meant to bloom, too.

Sunoo never asked you to rush or trust him blindly. But still, he stayed, and that was what scared you the most.

Because if love had always been a fleeting thing—beautiful, delicate, doomed to fall—then what was this?

You wanted to believe in him, in this warmth he offered so freely, but doubt coiled around your ribs like vines, whispering that this was only temporary, that all things soft and kind eventually disappeared.

One night, you found yourself standing at his doorstep, heart pounding, hands cold. The sky above them stretched endless and dark, and the stars felt impossibly distant, like the love you had spent your life chasing but never quite reaching.

When he opened the door, he looked at you like you are something whole. Not a collection of broken pieces, not a woman made of withered roses and bruised memories. Just you.

"I don’t know how to do this," you confessed, voice barely above a whisper.

Sunoo stepped closer, his warmth chasing away the chill in your bones. "Then let me show you."

And for the first time, you let yourself believe.

Because love, real love, wasn’t a petal plucked too soon. It wasn’t something fragile, something destined to be lost.

It was something that stayed.

And this time, you wouldn't let it slip through your fingers.

requested by: @leilamaybelyla

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[jungwondazed]

this is home

description: jungwon x reader (very soft physical affection, jungwon's relationship with reader is up for interpretation)

i wrote this for the people who have had a troubled past and the idea of jungwon being your safe haven makes you want to *sob*

his presence was like a fresh load of laundry on a warm spring day. his smile, his laugh, jungwon coming into your life saved you from yourself. 

with his hoodie over his head and his favorite plaid pajama pants on, there really wasn’t a sight comparable to this one.

it was strange to be so engulfed by a spirit so light and bright but it was more comfortable than it is foreign.

he places his hand softly on yours and tugs you gently towards himself, “come here” he touches you in the way you need it and pours his love into each in every movement. you feel his affection through the pads of his finger tips and the soft grip of his hand. jungwon is your safe place, being someone so frightened by physicality, he makes it feel natural.

his hands roam all over your arms and shoulders, looking you up and down to make sure you’re okay like he always does. he pulls you into a hug and you feel yourself melt into him all over again. he’s warm and his body is firm but his aura is so soft and gentle it feels healing in a way. he lowers himself against the couch so that you can lay on his chest just like that, with his arms still wrapped around your lower back. 

you can hear his heart beating, and feel his chest moving up and down with every breath, and you are reminded all over again that you are in the right place. he traces circles through your clothes and it sends shivers up your spine. it feels so good to be here, it feels so good to be on jungwon. 

you take a peek up at him, with the tv screen flashing colors on his face in the dark room, he’s beautiful as ever. he’s handsome with his hair undone and a lazy outfit on, he’s jungwon and jungwon to the core. 

closing your eyes, you lower your head on his chest again, rubbing against it a bit with the side of your face. 

he notices you getting comfortable and takes it as a sign that you’re ready to fall asleep. he smiles softly, gazing at your presence and holding you just a bit tighter than he was before. 

after a few minutes of soaking in all your facial features with his eyes, he brings his head down to kiss your forehead gently, before going back to watch the tv. 

you’ve never slept better. 

[ncity-agere]

Hi bunnie! I saw your Valentine’s Day post! I hope it’s not too late but I was thinking about how maybe the Enhypen members would think of their little who gives them hand made/drawn cards for Valentine’s Day.

Thank you! ❤️❤️

Of course it’s not too late! Happy Valentine’s Day, love! 💕

Heeseung: You waddle up to Heeseung, trying your hardest not to trip over your own little toes. You look up at your caregiver with big ol’ big eyes and blink at him wordlessly, handing him the construction paper with crayon scribbles.

“Ba! Ba!” You wave it at Heeseung and he smiles, holding his own hands out for the card.

You fidget nervously as he reads the card, admiring the colorful scribbles you put so much time into. You tug on his sleeve, getting more and more anxious about his reaction. “Ba?” You whimper from behind your pacifier.

Heeseung picks you up and sweeps you off your feet, holding you on his waist. “Did you make this for me, lovely?” A nod. He smiles and bounces you on his hip, giving you a small kiss in your nose. “It’s beautiful, lovely. Just like you.”

Jay: He can’t stop looking at the card. He thinks it’s adorable that you made him such a pretty card all by yourself but…

“Baby… who’s this angry looking guy next to you, right there in the blue?” He asked pointing at the drawing on the front page of the card. There were two stuck figures holding hands in a field of flowers surrounded by comically large hearts.

You beamed, pointing as well. “That’s me right there in the yellow and that’s you, Daddy!” You grin. Jay scoffs at the hilariously scowling face on his stickman but smiles anyways, kissing your cheek.

“I love it, baby. Your drawing is very cute, thank you.” He cups your cheek and you giggle bashfully, happy that your Daddy liked the card so much.

Jake: “For me?” He asks, taking the card and looking through it. It was cut in a heart shape, and had his name scrawled in large pink letters with dog ears coming out of the “a”. He thought it was very, very creative how much effort you put into it.

Then he feels disappointed because he forgot to get you a Valentine’s gift! He didn’t make one either, he feels so silly!

“Aw… I should have made you a card too, babygirl/babyboy. You’re my little artist, aren’t you dear?” He cupped your squishy little cheeks with his large hands, making your heart flutter. “I love you so, so much! I’ve gotta make it up to you… what’dya say we got get some ice cream, huh? Would you like that, babygirl/babyboy?”

Sunghoon: You don’t give Sunghoon a typical open-and-close card. Instead, you draw a picture of you and him out, walking by the river together with you in your favorite jumper. It’s your best work by far and you’re more than excited to show it off to your Papa.

Papa stares at it for a smile and cracks a small smile, but something about it feels off. You immediately sulk, shoulders slumping in disappointment, wishing that your art could have been better.

But Sunghoon’s eyes widen and within seconds, he’s holding your face gently. “No, no! Wait, I’m sorry if I don’t seem expressive enough, love.” He starts to apologize, before you throw yourself into his arms. “It’s the most beautiful art I’ve ever- OOF!”

You think for a moment, pausing and nodding in understanding. Papa wasn’t upset, he just had a hard time expressing himself. And that’s okay, you’re just glad that he communicated and didn’t leave you feeling sad. “Is okay, Papa. I undewstand.” You hold him tight and he holds you back, careful not to crinkle your precious artwork. “I love you to the moon and back.” You babble, pulling away from your hug. “I won’ stop loving you until piggies fly.”

“And I won’t stop loving you until hell freezes over.” He waxes softly, making you giggle. It may sound blunt and dark to others but for you and Sunghoon, it’s just the right amount of reassuring and loving.

Sunoo: Sunoo would probably gasp dramatically and place a hand on his heart like “For me? All for me, pudding?” He’d pout and look over every little inch of the card, gasping at the little drawings of you and him. “Be my Valentine, bubba?” He reads out loud, smirking when your ears light up a faint red tone. He points at the lopsided pink hearts on the paper and sticks his tongue out in thought.

“Y’know… these would have been even cuter with a bit of glitter. But these will work, whatever.” He teases, pressing his forehead to you and nuzzling his nose with yours. “I’ll definitely be your Valentine. Thank you very much, pudding.”

Jungwon: You show him your super special, homemade card and smile wider at how his face lights up at the sight. He looks over it with wide kitten eyes and points at the parts he really, really likes, like the cats drawn in the corners and the hearts used to dot your “i”’s.

“I love the card, y/n. Your Valentine’s gift is actually in the-” He looks down the hallway and tugs away from the paper in both of your hands before freezing. He pouts and looks at you, still holding the card out to him. “Can you… can you help me peel the glitter glue off of my arm, petal? I think I’m stuck.” He chuckles sheepishly, pointing at where his jacket sticks to the paper.

You huff lightheartedly, unsurprised that Enhypen’s big, strong, brave leader needs the help of little ol’ you for a silly task… again.

Ni-ki: Okay, Riki is a little caught off guard when you hand him a handmade card with “Papa” scribbled on the front of it. There’s little candy hearts glued to the side like a frame and he’s gotta admit, it’s the cutest thing he’s seen in a while.

Riki looks shocked, hesitant to take the card and flip it open. Slowly, he opens it and gasps at the lovely little portrait you’ve drawn of the two of you. “You drew this? That’s amazing.” He marvels at your art skills, even in your headspace. “Nobody’s ever made me a card like this before, y/n. Papa loves it.” He holds the card close to his heart, feeling the way you melt it without even trying to.

[kpop-s-akura]

Gym Buddy || y.jw

🌸Pairing: Yang Jungwon x fem!Reader

🌸Description: When school forces you to run the mile every Monday — and lessens your will to live — Jungwon is there to keep you going.

🌸Genre(s)/Content: SFW; fluff; some humor; non-idol!AU; high school!AU; established relationship; curse words; appearances by the rest of ENHA; Jungwon is best boyfriend😘; Reader hates exercise and is kinda bratty lol; kissing; jokes about violence (no actual violence); pet names (babe, dearest, darling, baby, love); written for mobile; let me know if there's anything else!

🌸Word Count: 2.6k

🌸A/N: I'm finally back after so long! If you read my first chapter of my True Beauty fic, I'm so sorry but there's the slimmest chance I'll be continuing that (at least for now). I also apologize to those who I promised to enter collaborations for. There's honestly so much I have to say and apologize for, but for now, I hope you can forgive me and enjoy this piece. I hope to be back very soon with another one!

Happy reading!💙🩵

❀❀❀

“This is bullshit.” You deadpanned, half-assedly hugging your right arm to your chest with your left.

Jungwon could only chuckle at how obvious it was that you didn’t want to be here, at how visceral your hatred was.

Cute, he thought.

You whipped your head to your boyfriend’s sound of amusement while he was stretching his arms, happiness written all over his face from your “pain”.

“I’m serious, Wonie!” You whined from your place on the ground, now in a side lunge. He only snickered again, a bit louder this time.

“I know you’re serious, babe; you’ve been complaining about it ever since the beginning of the semester.” Jungwon continued his stretching routine, prepared for the whole tirade that you were most likely going to lay on him — not that he ever minded.

“Like, what’s the point of the mile run? To punish us?”

“It’s to keep you active and fit, dearest.” Jungwon spoke in a saccharine voice, giving the same answer to the same question that you ask nearly every other Monday. But it did little to soothe your anger over school mandated exercise.

“Like hell that’s the reason! I think it’s a plot…” You mumbled the last part. You both came out of your stretches and turned to look at each other. Jungwon had a soft smile of adoration, while you wore a petulant pout that the former cooed at.

“You’re just so adorable!” Jungwon leaned in closer, gently petting your hair. You could feel your face blush at his words and actions.

“Stop flirting with me, Won.”  You mumbled under your breath so it was only between you and Jungwon. 

“I’m not flirting. I’m merely speaking the truth.” You had half the mind to kiss — slap — the smirk off his smug face that had dimples pinched into each squishy cheek, only serving to make you more infuriated.

Jungwon didn’t pay attention to your body that shook in anger since he knew you weren’t actually angry — just very flustered. 

And he loved to fluster you.

“What’s going on, lovebirds?” You and Jungwon turned to the voice that approached you; your hand that was mid-air and about to slap Jungwon’s hand away from your head — which was still heavily petting you — slowly descending back to your side. 

Jungwon walked over and brought him in for a bro hug.

“Trouble in paradise?” Riki questioned as Jungwon put his arm around the younger’s (and shorter’s) shoulders.

Though a joke, it was a fair question given the scene he had walked in on: Jungwon up close and personal with his hand on your head, a sly smile on his face; and you nearly shaking like a leaf with a beet-red face.

Riki knew it wasn’t a lover’s quarrel. He knew you two and that scene better than that.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Riki looked between the two of you and your different answers for a second before snorting with a burst of laughter.

“Riiiiiiight.” He said in the most unconvinced way, drawing out the vowel.

“Hey, guys!”

You looked over and waved at the three new people who had traveled over to your trio — Jake, Heeseung, and Sunghoon– who then waved back.

“Ready for the mile, everyone?” Heeseung smiled. Before anyone had the chance to reply, you answered with a loud and prolonged groan of irritation that probably would’ve echoed had you all not been outside.

Heeseung let out a puff of laughter. “I forgot, Y/n — you’re not exactly one for exercise, are you?” He smirked.

“Nooooooo...” You plopped your forehead against Jungwon’s left shoulder with a childish whine, having made it closer to his side during your friends’ appearances.

Jungwon made noises of fondness at your cuteness and laid his head on top of yours. He brought up his arm that was attached to the shoulder you were laying on in order to pat and pet the side of your head.

You didn’t bother making a fuss about it this time, instead nuzzling further into him and moving your head inwards to his neck, standing slightly in front of him.

The moment of closeness between you two, and the sounds of adoration and awe from the boys, was then interrupted by a very loud and obnoxious fake throwing up sound.

“Ew, why are you two so lovey-dovey?” Sunoo rhetorically asked, throwing a disgusted side-eye as he approached the rest of you. Jay snickered, trailing slightly behind, and gave him a nudge.

“Why are you still single?” While Riki was never very good at holding in his laughter, and did not even bother trying this time around, the rest of the boys tried their best to stifle their joyous sounds as Sunoo shot you a glare that held nothing but contempt.

“I will kill you, Y/n.” He spoke lowly, but you just rolled your eyes playfully while dismissing his empty threat; replying—

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jungwon let out a small chuckle and pat the top of your head before wrapping it back around your waist. 

A loud ring of a whistle alerted all eight of you as your heads shot to its source.

“Well,” Sunghoon started, “time for the torture to commence.”

Your classmates were then brought over to the starting line of the track and field, where the teacher placed you all in a sort of clump.

Jungwon took his wireless earbuds out of his pants pocket, placing the right in his ear while offering the left one to you.

He put the case back into its previous spot, muscle memory from your guys’ makeshift routine driving his actions.

You took it and placed it snuggly in your ear, anticipating the start of the “Mile Monday😩” playlist you and Jungwon had made with some honorable mentions from the other boys.

Since you two were bonafide lovers of music, it being one of the few things to calm you and your temper (besides the cat boy himself), you two made a couple’s playlist alongside your several others for every other type of the occasion. 

This particular one had upbeat, uplifting, and just general feel good vibes.

Perfect.

Jungwon turned to look at you once again with that soft smile, as if he was trying to soothe your lingering negative feelings about what you were all about to do. Ever the empath.

“Are you ready?” You couldn’t help but smile back.

Jungwon was always so good at putting you in a good mood or distracting you from the bad things, not that this was necessarily bad as you had thought (though you would never admit that).

You let out a dramatic sigh, making Jungwon laugh.

“I suppose. Promise you won’t run ahead of me?” You smirked, lifting your pinky up.

Jungwon reflected your expression back, still laughing, at your gimmick. He locked his finger with yours.

“As always, darling.” Your lips turned up as your heart filled with warmth at the pet name and his ever-present, patient smile. 

“Alright, girls and boys!”

You broke the physical contact to turn to Mr. Park, who stood in front of your classmate’s clump.

“You all know the drill: Complete the four laps around the track in twenty minutes or less. You can walk or run, but remember to not push yourselves and keep your own pace.” Everyone nodded along with the professor’s words.

“Alright! Timer starts…” Mr. Park stepped over to the side, timer in hand.

“NOW!”

At his go ahead, some students sprinted, some jogged, and some started off with just walking. 

Heeseung and Jay were the first to zoom off at the front of the pack, speeding forward like their life depended on it.

Jake and Sunghoon jogged in the beginning, but soon got competitive with each other and decided to race.

Riki and Sunoo decided to preserve their energy for the time being and just stayed near the back to chat.

Jungwon and you started with a light jog; wanting to get this over with, but not going so far as to end the mile with throwing up.

You were doing quite well and were able to make it through the entirety of one full lap before slowing down to walk half a lap, and then speeding back up; Jungwon followed suit with whatever you did.

“I’d say we’re not doing too bad, no?” You questioned, slightly winded, but not yet holding onto any debilitating stitch in your side.

You two were now back to walking with two full rounds down.

“Not too bad, sure. But I think we can do even better…” You whipped your head over to Jungwon for the second time this evening, this time with an incredulous look at his mischievous expression.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked tentatively and slightly scared, but Jungwon’s smirk just widened.

“I say we jog nonstop to the end.” You stopped in your tracks at this.

“No way in hell am I doing that, Yang Jungwon.” Jungwon seemed to have expected your refusal.

“No need to pull out the government name, darling. I’m merely suggesting that we get the mile done faster. The sprinters and most of the joggers are already finished.”

You followed where Jungwon gestured to, a patch of grass at the center of the track where a little more than a handful of people were gathered.

Lying down, chilling in groups; chatting and just relaxing. 

You could see Heeseung and Jay lying flat down on their backs with their empty water bottles, probably from chugging them right after they finished. 

Sunghoon and Jake were about a foot away from them, the former laughing obnoxiously in the latter’s face as he got onto his stomach and started to do push-ups; a punishment for losing whatever competition was going on between them, you were sure.

You winced in empathy as you witnessed the pure pain Jake had on his face as he went through with the penalty. 

As for Riki and Sunoo, it looked like they had just finished their turn with the mile. They walked over to the four older boys and plopped down next to them. Riki got on his phone while Sunoo passed him a water, keeping one for himself.

“Isn’t that what you want?” Jungwon could feel the victory on the tip of his tongue, knowing you’d take his bait. He saw you subconsciously bite your lip in envy at seeing all of your friends the way they were. 

You turned back to face your sly boyfriend.

“Of course it is! You know that this is the last thing I want to be doing right now.” Jungwon nodded before continuing to walk.

“Then what’s stopping you, hm?” 

You started to become genuinely concerned that you were going to sock your boyfriend in his perfectly beautiful face at the rate of his teasing and taunting. 

(Whether that was with your lips or your fist — TBD.)

But you knew that he was trying to motivate you. He was just doing it in a very frustrating way.

“It wasn’t really on my agenda to end up on the floor, dead, at the end of this class.” You sarcastically replied with a glare.

“Oh, come on, baby. You and I both know it takes more than jogging two laps to take you down.”

Well, when he said it that way.

“How about this?” Jungwon leaned in closer to your face with his hands clasped behind his back.

“If you’re able to jog the whole time for the last two laps, I’ll treat you to ice cream and anything you want at the snack bar.” This caught your attention as your widened eyes shot up to meet his, intrigue coloring your irises in a way that made Jungwon giggle in adoration.

“I’ll throw in infinite kisses.” 

Jungwon then pecked your left cheek. 

“As a tester.” 

You breathed heavily, almost sounding like a wistful sigh.

To hell with it.

“Then let’s go.” Once you had started to walk with him, Jungwon started to gradually pick up the pace, forcing you to do so as well. 

You kept his deal in mind and pushed yourself beyond what you were originally able to, subconsciously mouthing along to BAEKHYUN’s “Betcha”.

You internally chortled.

How fitting.

As you and Jungwon neared the end of your last lap, the boys had risen from their areas of rest and came to stand near the finishing line.

They started cheering once you rounded the last corner of the track.

“Come on, guys, you can do it! Just a little more!”

“Yang Jungwon! Yang Jungwon!”

“Y/l/n Y/n! Y/l/n Y/n!”

“*Weird, loud, siren noises that don’t sound like they should be able to come from a human but they are.*”

“Let’s go, lovebirds!”

“LET’S GAUR!”

If you weren’t so focused on your legs not failing you, you’d have started to tear up at the display.

Just then, you heard Jungwon — nearly out of breath but still going — speak in a quieter voice compared to your guys’ personal cheerleaders.

“Come on, baby. Let’s finish this.”

A grin spread across your lips at your boyfriend’s encouragement; pumping your legs even faster, surpassing Jungwon by a couple of feet in a sprint and crossing the finish line.

The six boys crowded around as you collapsed to the ground on your hands and knees, now spilling words of praise.

Jungwon crossed promptly after you and joined with a smile on his face that showed the epitome of proudness. He bent down to lock eyes with you and placed his hand on your left shoulder.

“You alright, darling?” You nodded with an exhausted, but equally proud smile.

Jungwon beamed back before helping you back onto your feet.

“Well I’ll say, Jungwon and Y/n,” Mr. Park walked over to your group, clipboard in hand, “that’s your best time yet!”

The rest of the boys continued to yell their congratulations as Mr. Park went back over to his previous spot in order to log the other student’s times. 

You gasped in happiness at the news. Once you turned back to Jungwon, he picked you up in a hug and spun you around.

When you were brought back down, you were met with Jungwon’s soft lips on your own — tasting the strawberry chapstick you gifted him for your previous anniversary. You wrapped your arms around his neck, slightly coming onto your tippy-toes while his hands held onto your waist for stability. You both smiled into the kiss before you pulled away.

“Now get me ice cream.” Jungwon laughed cutely and caressed your head.

“Whatever you want, love…” He pressed his forehead to yours. As you two were about to kiss again, there was a chorus of excitement.

“Ice cream? I heard ‘ice cream.’” Jungwon groaned quietly and you began to laugh. Jake had overheard and was now hyping the rest of the boys up with the idea of getting ice cream.

“Snacks too, Jakey.” You added in. You giggled at how his eyes lit up and how energetic the guys got.

Jungwon faintly knocked his forehead against yours with a pout, he knew there was no stopping his friends from tagging along his date (and from shaking him down for ice cream and snacks).

You press a firm kiss to his left cheek, briefly relishing in how soft and pillowy the skin is. The little frown was instantaneously replaced with a shy grin. You didn’t allow yourself to become bashful, pushing yourself up to lay your lips on his in a sugary embrace.

The two of you stood in your own little world, barely aware of the six boys debating whether or not they should also take a trip to the convenience store at the corner.

[senascoop]

☁︎ . , TELL YOU WHAT? , S.JY !

PAIRING: fiance ! jake × drunk ! afab reader. SYNOPSIS: getting drunk in hopes to escape your engagement and the sadness that came with it—you turned to a stranger or maybe... your fiance. GENRE: fluff, drabble. WORD COUNT: 541. [LIBRARY]

♫︎ REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

You had thought sneaking out of your engagement party to get drunk in the garden was a brilliant idea. A freeing, rebellious decision. No one would notice, you had convinced yourself. But as usual, life had other plans—and so did Jake, your brand-new fiancé, who somehow found you curled up on the grass, your pristine dress now speckled with dirt.

“There you are,” he sighed, sitting down beside you with a mix of relief and mild exasperation. “You do realize there’s an entire party looking for you, right?”

You waved him off lazily, blinking up at the night sky. “The stars don’t judge,” you slurred, the alcohol working its magic, “unlike Aunt Minji and her ‘oh, so you’re the bride?’ looks.”

Jake chuckled softly, brushing a speck of grass off your shoulder. “Well, Aunt Minji doesn’t have to marry you. I do.”

You turned to him with a mock glare, your cheeks flushed—not just from the wine. “You don’t have to,” you said, hiccupping slightly. “But if you want to, you should know I have a secret.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning in playfully. “Do tell, my mysterious fiancée.”

You sat up dramatically, nearly toppling over in the process. “I weigh over 45 kilograms!” you announced, as if it were the most shocking revelation in the world. “And—and,” you added, your voice dropping into a whisper, “my chest is still flat!”

Jake froze, caught somewhere between disbelief and laughter. But it was the way your bottom lip wobbled, your eyes welling up with tears of tragic sincerity, that pushed him over the edge. He burst out laughing.

“You’re laughing?!” you cried, your voice a mix of betrayal and drunken indignation. Tears spilled over as you sniffled. “You don’t have it either! How dare you judge me?”

That was it. Jake had to press his hand over his mouth to stop the laughter threatening to spill out, but he couldn’t quite manage it.

“Okay, okay,” he said, scooting closer as you dramatically flopped backward onto the grass, staring up at the sky like a tragic heroine in a period drama. “You’re right. I don’t have it either. We’re even.”

You sniffled again, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your very expensive dress. “We’re both... flat,” you mumbled, your voice quivering. “What a sad couple we make.”

Jake sighed, leaning over you, his tone softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Hey, it’s not sad,” he said, his voice gentle but laced with amusement. “It’s… balanced. And you’re perfect, even if you’re drunk out of your mind right now.”

You squinted up at him, your lips curling into a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”

Jake smirked, offering you his hand. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m saying it because you’re the funniest drunk I’ve ever met. Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up before Aunt Minji sends a search party.”

Reluctantly, you let him pull you up, leaning against him as you stumbled. “Fine,” you muttered. “But only because you admitted you’re flat too.”

Jake laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. “Deal. Now let’s get back before you decide to share any more of our secrets with the stars.”

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