I Am So Curious What Happened Between Them!?

CHEF KISS!!!!

Omg I hope I don’t sound sick but would you do Niki x Jake’s girlfriend (Jake is aware of it but dose mind because Niki is his makne)🤧

he knows - ni-ki x reader x jake

warnings: smut, nsfw, cheating, drinking alcohol, cursing, etc.

ni-ki always find it amusing how you act around him. you're polite and reserved with everyone else but with him, you were comfortable. he's the only person you ever spoke to and the only one who could make you laugh.

whenever he cracked a joke, you'd giggle behind your hand, your cheeks would turn pink and whenever he teases you or he'd throw subtle flirty remarks, you'd get all shy and quiet, looking anywhere but at him.

and whenever someone else tried to talk to you, you would just bow politely and walk away, sometimes outright ignoring them.

you had been rushing through the hallway so you could go home early when you accidentally bumped into someone.

"ah- sorry!" you winced, quickly bending down to pick up your fallen things.

you heard a warm chuckle along with pair of hands that helped you gather your belongings and when you looked up, you were met with a pair of kind, familiar eyes.

Sim Jaeyun.

he tilted his head with a curious expression. "oh?" he muttered, studying your face then his eyes lit up. "you're y/n, right?"

your heart skipped. "h-how…?"

jake grinned. "i think i saw your picture with ni-ki." he laughed.

your face heated up instantly. "ahh…"

"he told me lots of things, you know?"

you groaned playfully, shaking your head. "he must've called me ugly again, right?"

jake let out a short laugh before shaking his head. "but you're not, though..." he continued, "you're very pretty."

"wha- what?"

he smiled, completely unfazed by your flustered face.

this is jake sim... and he just called you pretty.

you knew jake is a flirt and it was just a simple compliment, but still, it feels really good to be called that every once in a while.

you laughed awkwardly, really unsure how to react.

"you should hang out with me sometime." he said, pulling out his phone and casually handing it to you.

you hesitated, staring at the device in his hands.

then he gave you that look... soft, expectant puppy eyes. it's actually unfair.

handsome boys just might be your weakness.

"...okay." you smiled, typing in your number.

now here you were, standing beside jake, looking all shy as he introduced you to the rest of their friend group.

you felt nervous, not because you weren't used to meeting new people but because these weren't just any people. these are THE people. heesung, jay, sunghoon, sunoo, jungwon and ni-ki...

and judging by their curious smiles, you thought that they might be trying to figure out why jake, of all people, had chosen you.

i mean, he asked you out, he kept texting you, and not to mention, he's literally perfect... who are you to say no?

"my girlfriend, y/n." jake said smoothly and laughed shyly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

ni-ki barely heard the surprised "oohs" and teasing from the others because all he could do was to focus on you... how your cheeks turned red, how you avoided his eyes, and how you nervously fiddled with the hem of your sleeve.

since when?

since when did you start dating someone and why the hell was it jake?

"wait, i feel like i've heard that name before…"

jake nodded, "yeah, probably from ni-ki 'cause they're classmates."

"oh, that's right!"

you glanced at ni-ki, who's unusually quiet. he just stood there, staring at you and jake.

he smiled weakly and nodded at everyone before walking away.

then ni-ki didn't talk to you for days.

you weren't one to approach people first, and now you have a boyfriend… but ni-ki is your friend, you should at least check up on him, right?

you: hey, how are you?

no reply.

he wouldn't look at you, wouldn't say hi, and wouldn't acknowledge you at all.

plus you were super "shy" to push it further.

is he upset?

you sighed, the ache in your ribs refusing to go away, it pressed against your lungs, making it hard to breathe.

you pulled one hand out and rubbed your chest, fingers pressing over your heart like that would somehow ease the strange, suffocating feeling inside.

after class, you stood by your locker, stuffing books into your bag when you felt a tap on your shoulder, you chose to ignore it.

another tap.

you exhaled sharply, rolling your eyes but can't help to smile a little bit. you didn't even have to turn around to know who it was, you guessed he probably stopped acting nonchalant.

another tap.

"ni-ki!" you said excitingly, but instead of ni-ki, you found yourself staring at your wide-eyed classmate holding out your pencil case.

"you- you left this in class!" he stammered before shoving it into your hands then ran away.

the hallway got dead silent. dozens of eyes were staring at you, some students whispering, and others were just staring.

your stomach dropped and then, just when you thought the situation couldn't get worse, you caught sight of ni-ki who had stopped in his tracks after hearing his name from your mouth. he's just a few feet away, staring at you awkwardly.

a confused look appeared across his face for a second. then he scoffed, smiling widely before walking away.

you closed your eyes and swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around your pencil case. you shook your head and lightly bashed your head into your locker. "that's so embarrassing..."

later, you were staring at everyone's pictures stuck to the fridge.

you were just waiting for jake to finish getting dressed, when someone opened fridge door beside you, nearly making you jump.

ni-ki.

he didn't acknowledge you, he just grabbed a bottle of water and cracked it open, like you weren't even standing right there.

you pouted. he's so rude.

and when you turned to look at him again, you realized he was already watching you, even as he lifted the bottle to his lips.

your heart skipped then you quickly looked away, suddenly feeling nervous.

he smirked and before you could even process it, he was already stepping closer.

"hey…" you greeted, still nervous.

ni-ki then leaned in tilting his head before he kissing you slow and passionate as if he was savoring you. his lips were cold from the water, but he tasted so good, it's so right.

when he pulled away, the sound of your lips parting was loud, sexy, and intimate.

then you looked at his eyes, you started panting.

you panicked at the sound of footsteps approaching. you shoved ni-ki away, your face burning as you ran outside.

he watched you disappear with an amused smirk on his lips.

he turned back to the fridge just as jake walked in.

"where's y/n?" jake asked, adjusting his watch.

ni-ki grabbed another bottle of water and popped the cap off before shrugging, "i don't know."

you avoided everyone after that.

it was wrong. all wrong.

why did he do it?

and it's also wrong that you're thinking about it while on a karaoke date with your boyfriend.

"jake, i have to tell you something…"

he smiled. "hold on, i gotta sing this."

then started singing while looking at you, his voice warm and full of energy. he was so sweet, it made you want to cry.

it's always fun with him.

and on the way home, jake couldn't stop talking to you in English, excitedly rambling about random things. "i like that i have someone like you who i could talk to about this." he said, joked that he was tired of speaking with his friends.

you laughed softly. "well, i'm happy to listen."

jake smiled before tilting his head. "is it true? i remember ni-ki saying something like you don't like anyone touching you?"

you heart raced hearing his name but you forced yourself to stay calm.

"no, not really." you replied. "but it's not that i don't like it. i guess i just like it better when i'm really comfortable with someone."

jake stopped walking and stared at you. "look at you…"

you blinked. "huh?"

"you're already opening up to me."

you chuckled after feeling the warmth in his voice then he reached for your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours.

you smiled weakly.

"i gotta warn you," he grinned. "i'm really clingy."

then you laughed, letting yourself be in this moment with him that you actually forgot about what happened with you and ni-ki.

you were hanging out with everyone but you only had your eyes on jake. you were laughing weakly, hands tracing his arm as you leaned into him. his touch was warm, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

ni-ki sat quietly across the room, watching. his jaw was getting tighter the longer he observe.

he had been patient, biting his tongue, but when you nearly stumbled forward in your drunken state, only for Jake to catch you with an amused chuckle, ni-ki finally had enough.

"hyung," he said abruptly, standing from his seat. "she needs to go home."

you blinked, your laughter fading as you turned to look at him and alcohol made it hard to focus but you still managed to send him a hazy glare, eyes narrowing.

jake frowned as he glanced at ni-ki. "oh, is that so?" he raised a brow, clearly entertained by ni-ki's sudden concern.

ni-ki didn't back down, he wasn't playing games. "yeah." he said, his tone unwavering. "she's too drunk."

jake gave him a confused look. you're with him, your boyfriend. so what?

"hey, woman. should i tell your mom you're drinking?" ni-ki asked you.

then jake chuckled, brushing his fingers soothingly over your back. "okay," he murmured, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. "i'll come see you tomorrow, alright?"

ni-ki exhaled through his nose, stepping forward as if ready to take you himself. jake noticed but didn't react, only smiling softly as he helped you up.

and since he's too drunk as well, he asked ni-ki for help.

he held your arm carefully. "take care of my girl." he said lightly, as if provoking ni-ki.

but ni-ki didn't respond, he just led you forward. he sighed, adjusting his grip on you as you swayed slightly against him.

it was cold outside so you were practically glued to him, your fingers clutching at his sleeve because if felt like you'd float away if you let go.

why did jake let you drink this much?

"ni-ki..." you called out, "kiss me again." you said suddenly, soft but insistent.

ni-ki stiffened, halting for a moment. his grip on your arm tightened as he let out a slow breath. "you're drunk," he muttered.

"i can't stop thinking about it..." you admitted, stopping in your tracks and looking up at him with big, glossy eyes.

he clenched his jaw, clearly fighting himself. "you'll never ask or tell me that when you're sober, right?" he smiled.

you giggled, leaning closer, swaying again. "because i'm smart when i'm sober."

ni-ki scoffed, rolling his eyes. "right. and you're real dumb right now, huh?"

and instead of answering, you grabbed at his sleeve again, tugging like a stubborn child. He groaned, clearly exasperated, but there was no real bite to it.

"stop moving so much," he muttered.

but you just pouted at him. "kiss me," you whined, repeating your words.

ni-ki let out a long sigh, like he was actually debating whether to listen to you or throw you over his shoulder and carry you home.

but he gave in, leaning down and pressing a long, firm kiss to your forehead.

you wanted it on the lips but you immediately melted, your eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your arms around his waist. his arms came around you too, pulling you in even closer.

next day in class, you were back to being yourself again, as if you hadn't been all cheeky, clingy, and asking ni-ki for a kiss last night.

he leaned back in his chair, watching you from across the room as you quietly wrote in your notebook, acting like nothing had happened.

he got up, grabbed a chair, and dragged it beside your desk, resting his head on the surface. "why are you still here?" he asked.

"i'm waiting for jake." you answered simply, not looking up.

ni-ki rolled his eyes before he pulled out his phone and texted jake.

ni-ki: she's waiting for you.

jake: omg, i forgot. my head still hurts.

clicking his tongue, ni-ki set his phone down and looked at you. you were still writing, completely unaware. "you look dumb."

you laughed it off, brushing off his bluntness like you always did.

"do you wanna go to our house? he's there."

you paused before finally looking up at him. "he's… not coming, is he?"

ni-ki nodded. "sorry."

you shook your head quickly, forcing a smile. "it's fine. not your fault. i've got things to do anyway."

he reached out and gave you a quick pat on the head. you blinked up at him in surprise.

"let's eat then i'll walk you home."

"huh?" you hesitated, blinking up at him.

he laughed. "you're gonna sit here all day looking dumb?"

you glared at him. "i said i have things to do."

ni-ki raised an eyebrow. "yeah? like what?"

you opened your mouth, then closed it, unable to come up with anything convincing.

"come on. let's go."

you pretended to think about it for a moment before finally standing up. "fine." you said, grabbing your things.

later that night, as you lay in your bed, your phone rang with an incoming call. it's jake.

"hello?"

"did you get home safely?" he asked, yawning because he just woke up.

you sighed softly. "yeah, ni-ki walked me home."

there was a pause before jake let out a small scoff. "ni-ki… that kid…"

you frowned. "what?"

"he's not gonna take you away from me, right?"

your eyes widened slightly. "that's ridiculous..." you muttered, your voice quieter than you expected.

jake hummed. "i should confront him."

"wha-"

"i'm kidding, i love that guy..." he laughed. he added, "i miss you..."

you rolled onto your side. "i wish that was true."

jake laughed again, a little softer this time. "of course it's true. i'll make it up to you, i gotta go now."

you chuckled. "okay, bye."

he hung up, leaving you staring at your screen.

he's not gonna take you away from me, right?

you pulled out your phone and typed a message.

you: i should thank you.

ni-ki: hell yeah.

ni-ki: jk, it's good :p

you smiled, shaking your head.

you: you want coffee or something?

ni-ki: what's the something?

you: anything you want.

then moment passed before he responded.

ni-ki: bet. see you.

you stared at your screen for a while, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before you sighed, locking your phone.

and when you and ni-ki were finally alone, he quickly shut the door behind him, locking it with a soft click.

you watched as he took off his jacket, tossing it aside. you gulped, "so- so… do you want something?" you asked, your chest rising and falling with excitement and anticipation as he slowly walked closer.

"yeah, i want this…" he panted, cupping your cheeks before pressing his lips to yours.

you gasped against his mouth, your hands gripping onto his arms as you kissed him back. the familiar warmth of him, the way he tasted, the way he held you, it made your stomach flutter.

"i miss you, ni-ki." you murmured between kisses, barely pulling away before diving back in.

then he smiled against your lips. "i miss you too." he whispered, deepening the kiss, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. "you should say that more." he added.

you moaned softly in response, fingers tightening around the fabric of his sleeves.

this was so wrong.

your body was longing for ni-ki.

his hands began to wander as he pressed his body on top of yours, you could feel how much he wanted you with the evidence of his arousal hard against your thigh.

"ni-ki," you whimpered, tilting your head as his lips trailed down your neck. he nipped and sucked, but not enough to leave marks.

"we shouldn't..."

"we- we shouldn't." he repeated, continuing his kisses on your skin as his hips began to grind against yours. the pleasure in the friction made you roll your eyes, hands coming up to tangle in his hair.

ni-ki's hands slid down to your ass, giving it a squeeze as he picked up the pace. you bit your lip to hold back a moan while feeling yourself growing wet already.

it felt so good, his strong body pinning you down.

"i want you," he panted, the movement of his hips were stuttering.

you nodded breathlessly, too far gone to protest.

he lifted you up slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist which you did so eagerly, the new position allowing him to grind harder against your clothed cunt.

his thick bulge rubbed against you with each roll of his hips, you squeezed your eyes shut, really overwhelmed by sensation.

you were both groaning, moaning, and panting now, completely lost in the heat of the moment. his lips found yours again and you gave him sloppy kisses.

all thoughts of wrongdoing were forgotten because it was replaced by the all-consuming need to have ni-ki closer.

ni-ki adjusted his grip, one hand sliding between your bodies to palm at his straining erection through his pants. he groaned on his own touch, bucking into his hand.

"i'm gonna cum like this."

"hmm, i can't wait." he replied, kissing you.

your hips rolled shamelessly against him as you feel the pressure building, very tight in your core.

he was really going to make you cum just from this. just from dry humping him.

"ni-ki," you called out his name, fingers clutching at his shoulders. "i'm gonna-"

he panted, picking up the pace then he quickly slid his fingers in your underwear and started moving his hand skillfully.

"cum, y/n... i wanna feel you." his words pushed you over the edge and you came with a silent scream, convulsing in his arms, creaming all over his hands and you could feel the wet heat of it, soaking through the fabric of your pants.

for a moment, you just clung to him, coming down from your high.

then ni-ki had to go to the bathroom for a good five minutes. probably jerked off because he came out with a tired arm.

you both avoided his eyes, the reality of what you'd just done sinking in but ni-ki didn't seem to care, he pulled you close and kissed your forehead.

then you tried. you really did.

you rehearsed it in your head a dozen times, thinking of every possible way to say it. to tell jake the truth about you and ni-ki, about what's been happening.

but every time you tried, jake never gave you the chance.

you took a deep breath, gripping the hem of your sweater while sitting beside him.

you swallowed. just say it.

"jake, i need to talk to you about something." you started, voice steady despite the way your heart pounded.

he would interrupt you before you could even get another word out. asking about what to call each other, "do you prefer love? baby?"

"jake-"

his hands trailed up and down your sides, "ugh, it's been so busy lately, it’s driving me crazy."

your heart clenched.

"you love me, right?"

"what?"

he pulled back to look at you, his eyes full of affection, it's making you feel so guilty you thought you might drown in it. "you love me," he repeated, more certain this time. "so whatever it is you're stressing about, it doesn't matter. we're good."

the courage to tell him was gone.

but ni-ki could tell something was off, jake was being distant.

they're really close, so he noticed right away how jake would leave the moment he would join them and how he barely acknowledged him. it wasn't obvious to everyone else, but ni-ki could tell.

though others noticed jake acting strange too but they brushed it off, not thinking too much about it.

does he know?

ni-ki's chest tightened at the thought.

he might be an adult now, taller than most of them, stronger even but these were still his friends, his brothers and despite everything, he still felt scared sometimes.

fuck.

the house was loud. music, laughters, banters and clatters of bottles as they knocked against the table.

some of the guys were already wasted, slurring their words, and their voices were overlapping each others as they rambled about the dumbest things.

jake is really really drunk, his head was already resting against the couch but still grinning as he took another drink.

somehow everyone ended up talking about relationships, sharing stories, teasing each other about past flings, you know, the usual drunk banter.

"bro, i mean..." he started, voice slightly slurred but still clear enough for everyone to hear, "fucking your friend's girl behind their back is really crazy, right?"

the room fell silent.

whatever's happening, all of it died instantly. everyone exchanged glances, awkwardly moving in their seats.

"why- what are you even saying?" Heesung laughed, his eyes were darting around the room as if trying to gauge the situation.

jake let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. "i'm just kidding!" he grinned, waving his hand dismissively.

the others forced out laughs too, brushing it off as another one of jake's drunken jokes but some were annoyed that he had to kill the vibe.

then the conversation slowly picked back up, though the energy wasn't quite the same.

ni-ki didn't laugh. he didn't even move.

and when jake and ni-ki were the only ones left in the kitchen.

he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before finally speaking. "hyung…"

jake scoffed, not even sparing him a glance. "what do you want, asshole?"

ni-ki clenched his jaw. jake's mad and he wanted to be mad too, he wants to throw something, to say something that would make jake lash out at him just so they could get this over with.

"i'm sorry." he said. that's all he could say.

jake let out a cold laugh. "keep that sorry and don't talk to me."

ni-ki swallowed, staring at him, searching for something. jake didn't look drunk anymore. he looked sharp and clear-headed like he had been waiting for this moment.

"you know i liked her first, right?" ni-ki said quietly.

jake went silent.

he had known before even meeting you. before anything had even started.

but he only smirked. "i guess you're too slow, ni-ki." he said, adding, "she's not leaving me so you should probably leave her alone."

"i can't."

jake knew. he knew what happened in this kitchen, he saw the way you looked at ni-ki when you thought no one was watching, he also knew what you've been trying to tell him and the truth was, he thought he didn't mind because he also loves ni-ki.

he believed and hoped that maybe you'd grow to love him the same way but i guess it's exhausting, and it's gonna hurt all of you if he let it continue.

"fuck you." he walked away, leaving ni-ki standing right there with his heart pounding and his head spinning.

jake was laying on your chest, his arms were wrapped around your waist while you were playing with his hair.

he was talking about something, one of his usual dumb stories where you wouldn't stop laughing.

"that's so stupid." you giggled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

he is stupid, cuddling, laying on his cheating girlfriend's chest...

jake started propping himself up, his eyes met yours and then he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

it was the first time he had ever truly kissed you. "jake?"

he didn't answer. his lips trailed down, pressing aggressive kisses to your neck, tightening his grip on your waist.

"j- jake…" you said as you tried to pull away.

"is this how ni-ki does it?"

your entire body tensed.

you pushed him slightly, sitting up with your heart hammering through your chest.

jake scoffed, he was angry, frustrated and... hurt. he leaned in to kiss you again.

and when he felt you weren't kissing him back, he pulled away with a quiet sigh.

"what did i do to deserve this?" he asked you.

you swallowed hard, tears forming in your eyes. "nothing. you did nothing…"

he forced a small smile and reached out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. "sorry, y/n. i-"

you grabbed his hand, holding it tightly while tears slipping past your lashes. "no, i'm sorry..."

you didn't know what else to say. jake hugged you.

maybe it was your fault for saying yes in the first place and for letting things get this far despite loving ni-ki.

maybe it was ni-ki's fault for being a coward and only realizing what he wanted after he saw you in someone else's arms.

or maybe it was jake's own fault for falling for you despite knowing his friend had already set his heart on you.

he hugged you tighter, afraid that if he let go, you'd slip away completely.

jake took you somewhere, a quiet place with a beautiful view where you talked, you laughed, and where things felt okay.

then ni-ki showed up.

"hyung?" ni-ki called out, his voice was uncertain and despite calling his friend, his eyes locked with yours.

jake sighed, patting ni-ki's back with a chuckle. "you're so late."

"hyung…"

"it's okay, idiot. you go get her." he said, adding. "i'll leave you two."

ni-ki sat on the edge of the bench, his hands were resting on your waist as you stood between his legs, your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

he looked at you, unsure. "y- you're mine now, right?"

you nodded without hesitation.

relief washed over his face and he let out a quiet breath before resting his forehead against your shoulder. "ni-ki,"

he hummed.

"sorry for letting you go through that situation." you apologized.

ni-ki leaned back to look at you, "sorry too…" he cupped your cheek, tilting your face slightly before giving you a kiss. and when he pulled back, he brushed your hair away from your face. ni-ki stared for a moment, taking you in, your eyes, your lips, the way you looked at him now compared to before.

you ducked your head and buried your face in his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him again because you felt suddenly shy.

ni-ki chuckled at your reaction, his hands sliding around your back to hold you even closer.

he was already mentally preparing himself to be the other guy. like, really ready to sneak around and everything but luckily, jake is smart.

"you know," he laughed, "i figured i would have to be all stealthy, careful and sneaking out the back door but he figured it out right away." he said, joking.

you groaned in disbelief, burying your face in your hands.

"oh my god..."

a/n: ni-ki is a snake T T and i hate you here. this was painful (cause i don't want to hurt jake) but fun to write. i didn't go crazy with the smut, i hope you'll like it <3

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OMGGGG

Favorite Flavor - p.sh (m)

Every little dirty story that revolved around older men you read that night, you thought about him. Since that day, your deepest darkest fantasy was your crush on Park Sunghoon, your best friend's dad. 

Summary: You loved your best friend, and you have known each other for a long time. But as you grow older, so does your attraction for her dad, Park Sunghoon.

Genre: Smut, Best-friends-dad!Sunghoon x reader

Words: 5.5k+

Warnings: Huge age gap (reader is 20 and Sunghoon is 38) Don't like - don't read, Dom!Sunghoon, Sub!reader, creampie, reader has an age kink

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

You genuinely have the best friend ever. The first day you met each other was all the way back when you were twelve years old. All your classmates had decided to make you the new victim of their bullying, resulting in you not having any friends for the first two weeks of school. Until one day when your now best friend decided to sit with you at lunch. Being unsure of yourself, you had a problem opening up to her. Is she sitting with me to make fun of me? But you were wrong, so wrong. You talked the whole lunch period, making jokes and talking about your interests. That's when you found out that you both liked manga, and that she had a big collection at home that she wanted to show you. 

She invited you to her home later the same week, and you were beyond excited. It was a long time ago since you were invited to someone's house, that was not your aunt, or some other family member. You remember that you stood in front of her door, eagerly, waiting for her to open the door you just knocked on. 

And that's when you met him. 

The person opening your friend's door was indeed not your friend, but someone much older, and ofcourse, manlier. The door swung open and there was a man standing in front of you. He looked at first glance tall and slender, probably because of the clothes that he was wearing, a thick hoodie and a pair of sweats. His hair, which was black, was not close to styled - and it actually looked like he just woke up from a deep slumber. His face however was beautiful, not that you thought about that at the ripe age of twelve, but you still remembered how pretty he was. His lips were pink and plump, and his nose was big and pronounced, decorated with a mole on the side of it. During this time, he was rather young, around 28, so your first initial thought was that he was her older brother. It was weird, she never mentioned an older brother, and it never occurred to you that she had one?

“Oh, hi! You must be y/n, Im Sunghoon, Yeris dad!” The first thing that you could think of is how young her dad looked. Did he just look young for his age, or was he actually in his late twenties. Before the situation could get anymore awkward, beacuse you didn’t have the courage to answer the gorgeous man in front of you, Yeri ran and pushed her dad away from you and grabbed your hand to lead you up to her room. While you two walked away, your hand still in hers, you looked back at Sunghoon still standing in the doorway. 

That was your first encounter with Mr. Park, and when you were a kid you didn’t think that much of him. Yeah, he looked good for the average dad, but that's what he was: your best friend's dad. Even thinking he was attractive was so morally wrong in your head, so you didn’t let the thoughts get to you. You did however remember how popular he was amongst the other moms, especially your own. It was also then you discovered that he was in fact super young, being 16 when he got Yeri. You could hear your mom talking for hours about how brave Mr. Park was for taking care of a child from such an early age, despite the fact that the mom left when he and Yeri were 18 and 2 years old. You can’t imagine how much work that must have been for him, both having to think about his studies and his two year old child. 

It wasn't until you became 16 that Sunghoon had an effect on you. When you're 16 years old, you are well into puberty and the effect it has on you, both physically and mentally. In the same rapid speed your body got grown, so did your mind as well. Suddenly a guy was not only 'good looking', but put you in a position to sweat and turn red - just by the thought of being in the same room. It didn’t even need to be one specific guy, suddenly you found yourself being attracted to a lot more. Before, when you were glancing at a male classmate's hand, you didn’t think much of it. But now the veins, the bone and the soft skin made it too hard for you to concentrate. 

You clearly remembered the first day you looked at your best friend's dad the same way you did for the boys at your school. It was in the middle of the summer break and you decided to visit Yeri at her place. The sun was out and it was almost criminal how hot it was. If you didn't wear the light clothing you wore, you would totally be drenched in disgusting sweat by the time you got there. Your house was not that far, resulting in you always going by bike during all weathers to get to her place. The bike rack was by the side of the garden, and that's where you always put your bike when arriving. That’s when you saw Mr. Park in a state you never had seen him in before. He sawed planks with a massive chainsaw, which was probably several kilograms. His sweat was glistering in the sun, making his white tank top almost see through, and you curse yourself for staring at his hot worked out stomach. His arms were pumped up, and dirty from all the work. The sweat made his hair wet, making it stick to his forehead, before bringing up his hand, pushing the hair back. You are glad that he didn’t see you gawking at him, because that would be utterly embarrassing. 

The thing only got worse when your new interest in fanfiction made you realize your darkest fantasies. You had heard from Yeri that you could read stories about your favorite anime characters, and imagine that they were real and that they knew you. What she did not mention however, was that you could find so much more than that. You don’t even want to talk about what you used to read, but you could addmit that it was nasty, and utterly addicting. It started off light, even the slightest makeout story making your body tingle, but it came to a point when that wasn’t enough. So you searched for more, not knowing what it would lead to. It was then you found a story about having an inappropriate relationship with an older man, and it only went downhill from there. What was the problem however was the fact that the fanfiction could be written about anybody, but it couldn't stop you from thinking about Mr. Park. So that's what you did. Every little dirty story that revolved around older men you read that night, you thought about him. Since that day, your deepest darkest fantasy was your crush on Park Sunghoon, your best friend's dad.  

It wasn’t long until you were 18 years old, and you of course celebrated it with your family, and your best friend's. The big birthday cake, chocolate flavored, with all the eighteen candles was in front of you, and you were wearing one of those silly party cones on top of your head. They sang for you and you were the only one sitting down. You looked at the lit candles, getting ready to blow them out when the song was over. “Don’t forget to wish for something”, you hear a voice say that you have heard too many times to not recognize. You look up at Sungoon and smile at him. “I will '', you say with a small smile, nervously gulping down your saliva before looking down at the cake again. You close your eyes and blow out the candles, knowing exactly what you are going to wish for. After you opened your eyes, Yeri gave you a big side-hug before jokingly saying, “Omg! Now that you are 18 you can finally fool around with older men that you have read about without catching a case!”. Embarrassed, you lightly punch her shoulder and laugh nervously while tugging your hair behind your ear. You silently hoped that Sunghoon didn’t hear her, but by the look on his face, he certainly did. 

It was the same day but later, and a lot more people were in your house celebrating your birthday. Including some friends you finally have scrabbed together over the last six years. Because you finally could drink alcohol, at least legally, it didn’t stop you from doing so, making you right now extremely drunk. It was dark inside the house, with disco lights spreading throughout the room and you craved another drink. You wobbled towards the cabinet to grab the last vodka bottle, but right as you picked it up, a hand stopped you from going further. You looked irritated beside you, only to be met by Sunghoon. “I think you should slow down a little”. You look at him annoyed, trying to get the bottle back from his hands. But Sunghoon held the bottle so high above his head that you couldn't reach it, having to stand on your toes to even be close. Suddenly Sunghoon grabbed your arm with his other hand, bringing it down by force and close to his chest, dragging you in close to him. You breath hitched because you were super close, and he slowly brought down the bottle and put it on the table behind him. Before the liquid courage would force you any further, you backed away from him. “I think I am a little tired, I should rest ”you say and run up to your room. 

What you did not know however, was that you had left your phone on the same table where Sunghoon put the vodka. He knew that it was wrong, but he could not stop thinking about what his daughter had said earlier. What older men had you read about exactly? What if you were talking to someone and you were in danger. He wouldn't let an older guy take advantage of you like that. He did know your iphone code, he had accidentally seen you tap it in some days before, and luckily he remembered the numbers. He sneakily brought up your phone, and unlocked it. Right as he opened it a notification popped up from an app called wattpad. What’s that? He thought, as he opened the app. Right as he opened it he wished he didn’t, because now he could exactly see what you had been reading over the past two years. The stories were filthy, and so were the age gaps, all the characters were even older than him. He couldn't look at it anymore, not believing that a girl like you could read something like that. What he did know now however, is how difficult it will be to act normal around you. 

And oh, it was. Now you are 20, and over the last two years, from the day you turned 18 to now when you were 20, he acted weird towards you. Not that you knew why, because you never saw, that he saw what you had been getting off of over the past years. And he was getting cocky, I mean he knew that he was hot, and the stares that he would give you over the dinner table when you were with your friend was almost too much for you to bear.

Today was a hot summer day, and you were laying by the pool in your friend's backyard. It was the first day of summer, and you have always celebrated it with Yeri, even after you both graduated from high school. When you both were as young as 15, she smuggled in a bottle of alcohol to drink, not caring that it was clearly illegal. Of course you never get caught, Yeri makes Sunghoon go away for the day every year so he doesn’t interrupt your fun. Over the last years you had always covered your body, never wanting to show it. Even when it was only you and your friend, you wanted your t-shirt over your swimsuit to cover you even when swimming. It wasn’t because you were insecure about your appearance, you didn’t think much of it, but maybe it was for private reasons. But this time, it was different. 

Last night your friend called to make the not-so-awful news that her dad is not leaving for the day like he usually does, which means he is going to be there. You try to act disappointed on the phone, but you were far from disappointed. Quickly after the call ended, you searched through your closet trying to find something as close to a bikini. As you start to lose hope, you see the perfect one, a blue halter neck bikini with a low-waist bottom. You bought it a few years ago and you never had the chance to wear it. But now you did. 

When you greeted Mr. Park in the backyard you were already wearing it, making sure that your boobs were pushed up into the small bikini top. Throughout the day you had tried to do anything to get Sunghoons attention, but nothing seemed to work. That's when you got an idea. You laid by the pool and decided that you wanted to go top-less to sunbathe your back. Sunghoon could not stop staring at you from the barbeque-grill when you laid down on your stomach, carefully removed your bikini-top without flashing your tits, and relaxed against the sunbed. He almost burned the meat from staring at you. Did she do this on purpose? He did remember the things he saw on your phone on your 18th birthday, how could he forget?

Feeling way too hot, you decided to put on your bikini top again and head inside to cool off and grab some water from the fridge. As you open the fridge to take your drink, your thoughts get disturbed by a voice coming from behind you. “What do you think you are doing?”, you turn around looking at Sunghoon innocently and dumbfounded. He better not think he will get to you this easily. “What are you talking about, can’t I get a drink?”. Sunghoons sighs, put his hands on his hips and looks to the side. His foot is tapping fast on the ground. He is stressed. And his tongue pokes his inner-cheek. And irritated. You slowly walk to him, and tilt your head to the side. You look at him and scrunch your eyebrows, making you look clueless to what he is accusing you for. “Are you angry at me? I mean no harm, I am just your daughter's best friend”. He sighs and looks away for a second, before looking back at you with a smile. Right, Yeris best friend, he internally says to himself. It was a dumb thought that she did all that on purpose. “Of course you can take a drink, I’m just messing with you” he says and walks away. 

It has been two weeks since you talked to Sunghoon, avoiding him at all costs out of embarrassment. You can’t believe what had gotten into you that day. It is three in the morning and Yeri is already asleep beside you. That's when you hear the front door open. You didn’t even notice that Sunghoon wasn’t home, and why did he get home this late? Suddenly you hear more than one pair of footsteps, it sounds like someone is with him. Did he bring someone home? Out of curiosity you carefully walk out of the bed Yeri is sleeping on, and towards the bedroom door to see what is going on. And that’s when you see her. It’s a woman. Sunghoon really did bring someone home. And it wasn’t anyone, it was a woman his age, which means she was nothing close to you. You silently watch them, how they intensely makeout with each other and walk into Sunghoons room, closing the door. You can’t stop yourself, and walk after them. 

You lean towards his bedroom door and you can hear the sounds coming from their fun. The huffs, the puffs and the moans. You hear how the woman is calling for Sunghoons name, and that he should go faster and harder. The ache in your stomach grew bigger and bigger at her words, until you heard Sunghoons voice through the bedroom door. He sounds demanding, ordering her around, making her begg. Your body trembles, and you can feel your core getting wetter and wetter with any second. You have never heard Sunghoon like this, and you can’t get enough of it. You need more, your body can't physically leave.

Still listening, you slide down to the ground, your body still leaning against the door. You tilt your head back and take a deep breath as you slide in your hand in your panties. The fingers lightly touch against your wet core as you concentrate on Sunghoons demands, imagining that he is talking to you, that you are the woman he is messing around with in his bedroom. Your fingers slide in your pussy, imagining it is Sunghoon's cock roaming inside of you, stretching you out. While doing so, you use your thumb to massage your clit, bringing you closer to your release. It’s when you hear Sunghoons harsh demeanor switch to beautiful moans that you can’t take it anymore. As Sunghoon comes, so do you, making your hand completely coated with your own cum. What the fuck are you doing?You instantly get embarrassed, and run away as fast as possible to your friend's bedroom before you can get caught. The idea of washing your hands disappears when you hear the bedroom door open again. 

It is five am, two hours after the ‘incident’, and you haven't slept throughout the whole night. How could you? The only thing you have thought about was the fact that you masturbated to your best friends dad, fucking. Not being able to wait for Yeri to wake up, you decide to go to the kitchen to eat something, and maybe wash your still cum-coated hand. Just as you were about to open the refrigerator, Sunghoon came out of the bathroom door. You turned around and instantly gaped at the sight. Sunghoon had just showered, only wearing a towel that was extremely low on his waist. He looks so sexy with his hair wet, and you can’t help but imagine what he would look like without that towel. "Y/n!" What are you doing this late?” He says looking at you embarrassed. She didn’t hear me earlier, right? Not being able to answer, you bite your lips and look down on your feet. You don’t know how to face him after you heard him earlier, and what you did while listening to him. He cocks an eyebrow, getting suspicious by the way you are acting and he walks towards you. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up before?” He says, trying to bite back a smile. “Ah, it’s okay…” you say, still looking down. This can’t possibly be happening right now. He gets closer to you now, so close you can smell the lavender soap he used while showering. “Oh so you did? Probably listened on purpose” He says and laughs teasingly, forgetting that you are his daughter's best friend, and not some random woman he met at the bar. 

You look up at him to protest, only then noticing how close he is to you. Your hands come in front of your chest to bring some space between you and Sunghoon. “No I did not-”, before you can continue your pathetic statement, Sunghoon grabs your arm and lifts it up. He looks at your right hand, examines it, before to your surprise putting your fingers into his mouth. That was the fingers you touched yourself with earlier. You feel his tongue taste the cum of from your fingers. He takes out your fingers out of his mouth, licks his lips and looks at you with a teasing pout. “Aww did you touch yourself when you heard us? Did you get off? Did you finish?” He says, speaking to you as if you were a baby. You don’t know what you are going to say, deny? No, he already knows. Denying by now would only be foolish for you to do. It seems like the only thing for you to do is to stay quiet. The way you do not respond is enough for Sunghoon to understand the situation. He tilts his head to the side, using his other hand to tuck the hair behind your ear before grabbing your chin gently. Making sure to not hurt you. 

“Don’t act so clueless, I know what filth you are reading. Your best friend's dad hm? How dirty of you.” You look up at him, biting your lips, almost trembling with fear for what he is about to do. What if you are not ready to live out the fantasies you almost always had about your best friend's dad. “You are so cute”. Sunghoon swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, gently, getting more rough by time with his touch. His thumb slowly enters your mouth, first playing with your bottom teeth, before making contact with your tongue. He looks at you with furrowed brows and an expression that could only be described as arousal. 

His thumb is completely inside of your mouth, and you begin to suck on his thumb like it was his cock, looking up in his eyes. The rest of his hand is tightly grabbing your face, making you stuck on his thumb. He tilts his head back and sucks in his breath. “Just like that baby, soon you are ready for the big thing” He says teasingly. Suddenly you hear footsteps coming from Yeris' room. Quickly Sunghoon slides his thumb out of your mouth and runs back into the backroom. You quickly make your way to the refrigerator, acting naturally, looking for an early breakfast. Yeri steps into the kitchen and looks at you. “Are you seriously looking for food at five in the morning?”. You look back at her, kinda feeling bad since she doesn’t know what just happened. “Yeah, I got hungry.” You say, before grabbing yogurt from the fridge.

It’s Friday, two weeks after you sucked off Sunghoons thumb in his kitchen. Even though the natural thing to do after something like this is to avoid him at all cost, but since he is your best friend's dad, you can’t.

You are sitting with Yeri and Sunghoon in the kitchen by the table, eating dinner. Eating dinner with the Parks has always been something you enjoyed, but this is getting awkward. Sunghoon can’t even look at you, and you two have not been talking to each other since you got here. Not that Yeri seems to notice, she is all up in her own world talking about the latest anime she had seen. You try to concentrate on her word, doing your best to respond, but you can’t resist looking at her dad. You are such a horrible friend. 

When you are done eating, you put the dishes in the sink. Normally both you and Yeri would help each other out with the dishes, but she chose to take a shower today instead of helping you. She claimed that she hasn’t showered for two days and needs her one hour shower immediately. You let her get away with it, this time at least, and decide to do the dishes yourself and be a good friend for once.

You are hand washing the plate clean, and drying it with a towel on the counter in front of you. The Parks keep their plates on the highest level of cabinet, which is difficult for you to reach, making you struggle. That is until you feel a hand grabbing the plate above your head, putting it in the right place. You already know who it is, and because of the incident that happened two weeks before, you don’t have the stomach to say anything. Your breath gets heavy, knowing that the figure behind you is your best friend's hot dad, making you weak in the knees just thinking about him. His hand suddenly appears on your waist. “It seemed like you needed help with the plate,” Sunghoon says while giving your waist a squeeze, earning you a small squeak. He leans into your neck and rubs his nose deep, smelling you, taking in your scent of adolescence. He parts his lips and gently places them on the back of your neck, gently kissing you up your neck to your ear. He bites your earlobe making you hiss. It’s all going extremely slow, and it’s obvious that he is teasing you. One of his hands is still on your waist, while the other is slowly going under your shirt creeping up your stomach, soon meeting your breast. Sunghoon is still kissing your neck when he grabs one of your tits, gently massaging it, occasionally giving it a squeeze which makes your back arch.

It's when you moan when Sunghoon suddenly stops, he takes his hands out of your shirt and puts them on your hips, still behind you. “We can’t do this y/n”. You look back at him. His face is flushed and his hair is messy. “You are my daughter's best friend. You are 18 years younger than me.” You are still looking at him, frustrated. You need him, now. You can't wait any longer. “No Sunghoon, Please, I need you to fuck me” You pathetically pleading to the older man. Suddenly his hold on your waist tightens and he pushes his clothed cock towards your ass, making you feel him. You gasp, pushing your ass back harder on his hard cock. “This is how you make me feel y/n, this. I can’t be around you. And doing this will only make it worse.” Despite his words he doesn’t stop grinding into you, af if he can’t. Only the feeling of his cock pressed on your ass is making you tilt your head back out of pleasure, leaning on his shoulder. You look up at him with pleading eyes “Please Hoon, I need you, I need your big cock”. He turns you around with force, making you face him. His big hand grabs both of your wrists pinning them above your head on the cabinet. His other hand pushes you up, being strong enough to make you sit on the counter just by the sink. Before you could say anything he grabs your chin and kisses you roughly. You let his tongue take completely over your mouth, and it almost hurts how wide your mouth is open. His tongue is deep in your mouth, showing dominance in not letting you breathe until he lets you. 

He then pushes your mouth away from his, “Have you ever sucked someone off before, baby?” He says, his hand still pining your wrists. Not lying, you nod your head. He looks down at you and chuckles. “Of course you have, you dirty slut”. He says and lets go of your wrists, and pushes you on your knees in front of him. He unbuckles his belt, and drops down his pants to let his cock free. He is massive, and you can see the preecum leaking out of it. The sight makes your thighs squeeze together, something he noticed and loves. You look up at him, waiting for him to give you his orders, so you can follow him like his peasant. He smirks and licks his bottom lip, before biting it. He takes a fistfull of your hair, using it to control you and lower you towards his hard cock. You begin to lightly lick the tip, teasing him, before wrapping your mouth around the top of his cock. Sunghoon breathes out and tilts his head back “Ah, baby, just like that”. Looking up at him seeing how affected he gets by your mouth makes you even hornier, making you lean down on his cock even more. You remove his cock from his mouth to spit on it, which makes Sunghoon inpatient. He grabs our hair harder this time, and tilts your head up. “Open your mouth, slut” He says with a stern voice, and you follow his command. You open your mouth and he spits in it, making you moan at the ill treatment. You feel his spit sliding down your throat. He then slams his cock into your mouth, making you suck on it. He moans again at the feeling of your mouth, making you moan as well, vibrating his cock in your mouth. 

Just as you think he is about to cum, he slides his dick out of you, and makes you stand up. “Why did you stop?” you plead, wanting him to use you as his mouth slut. He grabs your waist and makes you sit on the counter behind you. He takes off your shirt, as well as his, as you take off your pants. “I want to feel you before i cum”, His hand slides over your clothed pussy, and he can feel your wetness through the fabric. You tilt your head back, leaning against the cabinet. The feeling of his fingers lightly teasing your clothed clit makes you moan. “You want me to touch you that bad, baby?” he says and looks at you with big deer eyes. You whine out a yes, before his hand rips off your panties and touches your folds. “So wet for me already, did you get turned on that easily by sucking on daddy's cock?” The sight in front of him could make him cum alone. Your makeup is smudged, and your lips are covered in drool from all the sucking and kissing. Just the way you look at him, tells him how much you want him to get you off. His fingers finally slip into your tight hole, and you moan at the feeling. But it's not enough, you need his cock, and you need it before your best friend comes back. 

“I need you Sunghoon, please I can’t wait any longer”, not having time to make fun of you, he has done that already by now, he quickly pulls his fingers out of you and brings his cock to your entrance. 

He grabs his cock and slaps your pussy making you let out a loud groan. He knows he is massive, and makes sure to be extra careful with your fragile little body. You both let out a relieving moan at the same time as he pushes all of him into you. The feeling makes Sunghoon almost collapse, having to tilt his head on your shoulder. Your legs wrap around his waist to push him even more into you, making sure that you can take everything he has to offer. Because of the risk of getting caught, Sunghoon doesn’t waste a second before fucking himself into you, pushing his cock in and out of you in a rapid pase, almost too fast for you too handle. His hand is still by your neck, biting you to muffle any moans coming out of his plump lips hitting a sweet spot. This makes you moan, and grab his hair to stabilize yourself. Feeling close, you bring your hand down to draw circles on your clit. Sunghoon suddenly slaps your hand away to replace it with his own, making him do the work for you. Because of the foreplay, it’s not long until you cum, and by the time his hard steady thrusts become sloppier, and sloppier you know he is close too. He comes into your pussy, and slides his cock out of you, looking down at your drenched pussy leaking out his cum. 

It’s then he looks at you with a stressed expression. “We need to clean up before Yeri comes back”. So that’s what you do. Sunghoon uses his shirt to clean you up, and help you put your clothes back on. You quickly do the dishes, getting help from Sunghoon putting it in the cabinet. After you have cleaned yourselves, and the kitchen, Sunghoon looks at you with regret in his eyes. “You didn’t do this because you felt pressured, did you? I’m older than you and would have easily taken advantage of you if I wanted to”. You look at him, smile, and walk up to him. You stand on your toes to reach up to his level and kiss his cheek, stabilizing yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders. You lean into his ear and whisper, “You are forbidden fruit Sunghoon, which happens to be my favorite flavor”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

I hoped you enjoyed this one-shot! Feel free to send requests. It can be everything from a one-shot request, to a hard thought that you want me to comment on 🥴.

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𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 – 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⤥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤥ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔

⤥ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐯𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞/𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬

⤥ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤.

⤥ 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍, 𝐍𝐂𝐓'𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧, 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄'𝐬 𝐓𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢, 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘'𝐬 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚

⤥ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 | 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃

⤥ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓: 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝟓𝐓𝐇, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | 𝐄𝐍𝐃: 𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐋 𝟏𝟑𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

⤥ 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⤥ 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃

⤥ 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬!

⤥ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: "𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬"

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗: 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄: 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰 (𝟖.𝟕𝐤)

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐍: 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐡

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄: 𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 (𝟐.𝟕𝐤)

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: ...𝐨𝐡 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ❤️

⤥ 𝐏𝐑𝐄-𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑: 𝐛𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲 (𝟕.𝟗𝐤)

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘: 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐚𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐫

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐖𝐎: 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝟏𝟎/𝟏𝟎 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 (𝟗.𝟕𝐤)

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐗: 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥!!!

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐥, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄: 𝐫𝐚𝐰

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘: 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝟖.𝟐𝐤)

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: 𝐓𝐌𝐈?

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐗: 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬

⤥ 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑: 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

⤥ 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑: 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝟕𝐤)

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘: 𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍????

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐗: 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐞

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄: 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰

⤥ 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒: 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐭𝐰𝐨 | 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

---

Twisted Ties - psh smau

PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE CHAPTERS

PAIRING: brothers bsf!sunghoon x f!reader

GENRE: childhood friends to loves, forbidden love, fake dating

SUMMARY: In the midst of her chaotic college life, Y/N is blindsided by an invitation to her ex's wedding. With no date in sight and the event looming, her brother throws a lifeline by suggesting she bring his best friend. the mix of nostalgia and free-flowing champagne leads to an unexpected night of passion. Now, Y/N must navigate through a storm of emotions and the potential drama within her tight-knit circle, all while juggling her academic responsibilities. Will this one night stand alter their friendship forever, or could it be the beginning of something new?

WARNINGS: smut, angst, fluff, language

FEATURING: enhypen hyung + makenae line, fromis9 saerom, nct jeno, occasionally other idols

STARTED: april 26 2024

STATUS: completed

join taglist (CLOSED)

- profiles: scholars ksana

- 01 life of the party

- 02 the invite [1.5k w]

- 03 just don’t fuck him

- 04 rules and regulations

- 05 night out

- 06 shopping spree

- 07 stress reliever

- 08 exam day

- 09 japan

- 10 the wedding [4.9k w]

- 11 I fucked up. [1.6k w]

- 12 liquid courage

- 13 jealousy

- 14 unbothered, always

- 15 unexpected guest

- 16 petty [1.3k w]

- 17 longing [3.5k w]

- 18 I wish it was easier…

- 19 pretty

- 20 complicated [0.7k w]

- 21 my girl

- 22 idiot

- 23 back to school

- 24 who are you? [1.7k w]

- 25 they’re onto us

- 26 girlfriend era

- 27 revelation

- 28 betrayal, hurt, reconciliation

a/n: AHHH i’m so excited to introduce my first full length smau!! i really hope you guys enjoy it, it’s been stuck in the back of my head for a while now. more updates to come!!

taglist: @cornenhapovs @myjaeyuns @magssu @leeknowsgfsblog @luminouskalopsia @jentlecoeur @heeslut4life @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @jaeyungxrl @rapmonie2047 @anormieee @nishislcve @leesura @en-happiness @kimsunoops @heelariously @rikiwaify-blog

---

jungwon 🥰 that is it! he is sooo 🥰

― THE WON FOR ME

PAIRING. fem!reader x yang jungwon CONTENT. bestfriends to lovers (kinda?) , realization of feelings , fluff & comfort , light angst , petnames , jungwon is so sweet :(( WORD COUNT. 1.5k NOTE. this is very self indulgent tbh... i hope u enjoyy :3 !!

Boys. During the beginning of high school, you adored boys. You desperately wanted a boyfriend and had at least one new crush every week. But now, in your senior year of high school, you're no longer fond of boys, males, whatever you'd like to call them. You didn't enjoy being around that...species of human beings. There was only one person who you made an exception for.

Your bestfriend, yang jungwon.

You had known jungwon since the seventh grade, and ever since then- you guys have been inseparable. He's seen you in your absolute worst state while you were with your ex, and he still stuck around. He's been there for you through literally everything, you don't know what you would do without him. He means the world to you, and you mean the world to him.

He wasn't a jerk, not at all. If anything, jungwon was the most caring person you knew. He always checked in with you to make sure you were doing alright, he always comforted you whenever you needed comfort, and he made sure to let you know that he would never leave your side, ever.

It looked easy being your bestfriend on the outside, but on the inside, jungwon was slowly losing it. He had been in love with you since forever, and you still hadn't noticed. His heart, body, soul longed for you. Of course, he held no hatred towards you because of that, he was just very sad, disappointed, let down.

He hoped maybe one day you would realize it was him, he really hoped you would.

Today was one of those days that you were going through the emotions, the feelings of missing someone.

Truthfully, you were still processing your breakup with your ex boyfriend. You guys had been together for 1 year and 3 months, so you were understandably shocked when he suddenly broke up with you- through text.

It was 6pm and you had woken up at 1pm. However, you had just been rotting in your bed the whole time. The only light in your bedroom was coming from your open window. It was gloomy outside, the weather understood how you felt today. You hadn't gotten out of bed today, and you probably weren't going to anytime soon.

jungwon : hi pretty :)) jungwon : you doing okay?? need me to bring you anything??

You smile at his texts. Jungwon always made you smile, even if you were feeling like complete shit.

And you definitely missed him, it had been three days since you last saw him. Yes you guys had facetimed a few times, but you wanted to be in his presence, in person.

There was nothing more comforting than being in his embrace.

y/n : hiii won y/n : i've been in bed all day...i miss u :<

jungwon : omw to u rn ! jungwon : bringing u some food too bc ik u havent eaten yet

Of course he knew you didn't eat yet, he had those spidey senses.

You'll tell him how thankful you are in person, your thumbs are already tired from typing. So, you just lie in bed and stare outside your window. You figured you ended up zoning out because you're startled when you hear a knock on your door.

"come in!" you say while still staring out the window.

Hearing the door knob turn, you turn your view to the door.

"guess who's hereee" you hear him say while opening the door and you can already hear his smile. You know his cat-like eyes are smiling along with him right now.

"hey jungwon" you say while giggling and there he is, in his favorite pair of jeans and a grey hoodie. He's so cute.

But you found him cute as a bestfriend, right? It wasn't like that, you were sure.

"i got you some udon soup and some ramen because i didn't know what you felt like. it's really hot though, so be careful" he tells you while carefully placing the food and utensils on your bedside table.

He really knew you so well. You love having udon and ramen when the weather is gloomy, like how it is today.

"thanks won, seriously" you say while opening the containers and taking in the smell of the warm soup.

He just nods and smiles with his dimples, staring at you. You know he's just making sure you don't spill on your bed, that's how he is.

He's also thinking about how cute you look right now, with your hair in a messy bun and bare face. But, you didn't need to know that.

You absolutely beast the food in a span of 7 minutes, you didn't realize how hungry you were. You definitely feel less out of it now.

You look over at jungwon and he's under your covers, laying down next to you and staring out the window. You notice that his hair is slightly messy, cute.

I guess he feels your stares, because he quickly turns his head to look at you and pulls you next to him.

He smells like clean laundry, warm and comforting, like always.

You get comfortable and lay your head on his chest and his arms find their way around your waist. He rests his chin on the top of your head and you can already feel your body relaxing.

Being in his embrace, in his presence, makes you feel at peace.

"so what's been on your mind?" he asks softly while brushing the strands of hair out your face.

"i saw a pic of my ex on insta with a new girlfriend and i guess it just brought back a lot of strong emotions. i don't like him anymore but you know, we were together for so long so..."

He quietly hums and you take it as a sign that he wants you to keep talking, as if he knows there's more that you need to let out.

And of course, he's right.

"it kind-of made me feel lonely? like he already has a girlfriend and i'm just rotting in my bed" you explain while fidgeting with the black hoodie that you have on.

There's silence for a few seconds, all you can hear is each other's breathing.

Jungwon doesn't know what to say. He always knows what to say, he just can't find anything to say in this moment. Why? It's because you said that you feel lonely. He never wants you to feel lonely, ever.

So instead of saying something, he just lays you on top of him, your head still on his chest. He hugs you a little tighter, too.

"pretty girl, i know you feel lonely, but i'm always here for you. no matter what. you already know that though, yeah?" he says, and you nod in response.

"won" you say, and he hums again.

"thank you for always being by my side. i'm so thankful for you, really. i love you" you say in a quiet tone of voice.

There's silence once again, and all you can hear is his heartbeat.

Jungwon's mind is racing. Did you just confess? Or was it just a friendly "i love you"? God, he was going absolutely nuts.

"y/n, i love you too" he says while bringing his hand to your chin to help you look at him.

"and i mean it. i love you y/n. not as your bestfriend, but as someone that has had feelings for you since day one. im in love with you pretty" he admits, and you don't know how to react.

"but you don't need to love me back in that way. never would i ever ask or force you to. especially with what you're dealing with right now, post breakup and all. i just needed to communicate my feelings with you or i think i'd explode" he continues, and you're frozen.

You didn't expect a confession out of the blue. Jungwon liked you? Wait no, he said he loved you. How did you never notice?

But looking back, it was sort-of obvious. The way he would get absolutely pissed when you told him about how your ex treated you, or the way he would have hearts in his eyes when you talked to him about your interests.

You don't know how you feel 100%, but you do know that you love him. And right now, you're might love him a little more than a bestfriend would.

"won, i love you too. i'm not exactly sure if i can say that i love you in that way just yet, but i'm sorry for not realizing sooner" you tell him while playing with his hoodie strings and staring at his adams apple.

"pretty girl" he brushes your hair out of your face once again.

"don't be sorry, you have nothing to be sorry for. i'll be here forever, so no rush" he says while giggling.

You catch him off guard with a quick peck on the cheek and you find it cute how flustered he is.

"if you can't handle a peck from me, how are you going to handle me as your girlfriend?" you ask playfully, still giggling at his flustered state.

"i'd definitely find a way, when it comes to you, i'll always find a way"

like and reblog if you enjoyed ^w^ my other works can be found here :)

© mochiwonz ― all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

---

I LOVE LOVE LOVE A GOOD HOGWARTS AU! I BE EATING IT UP EVERY TIME!! (and a side of jungwon?? i was FED)

project binki masterlist

riki has a crush on you, which you’re totally oblivious to. but he’s not good with romance or relationships, or even talking to people outside of his personal bubble. so he turns to the least reliable group of people he knows for help; his friends.

pairing nishimura riki x gn! reader x yang jungwon

genre fluff, modern hogwarts au, humour, angsty, strangers to lovers

warnings cursing, acromantulas / spiders, empty threats, mentions of death

profiles

— lonely hearts club

— quidditch team support group

chapters

— one rihanna in 2006

— two i heart professor binns

— three just a little crush

— four the start of something new

— five jungwon?

— six why professor binns

— seven over Quidditch???

— eight my hero

— nine get one thing straight

— ten decalcomanie

— eleven dinner with sunghoon

— twelve aaand world play

— thirteen fall off your broom

— fourteen kind regards, riki

— fifteen gotta blast

— sixteen back in session

— seventeen cat factory

— eighteen ProfSlughorn

— nineteen wing people

— twenty book return due

— twenty one break a leg

— twenty two no take-backs

— twenty three the girls are fighting

— twenty four ridiculous details

— twenty five y/n playing quidditch

— twenty six niki is missing!!!!!

— twenty seven the wonki reunion

status complete!

enhypen nishimura riki social media au / smau. will include written sections as well as social media screenshots. warnings will be added to both the masterlist and at the start of each chapter, so make sure to read them.

taglist @jjikyuu @hobistigma @sunghonkers @envirae @yangyanghq @w3bqrl @youreverydayzebra @elicheel @hyunsunge @softkons @jungw8ns @yenart @bakukags @m1ng-how @uhhalexwashere @shotasgf

---

bed of lies ; park sunghoon

↳ PAIRING: park sunghoon x fembodied!reader

↳ SUMMARY: to prove to his best friend that he could get any girl he wants, park sunghoon makes a bet. within the next 30 days, he has to make the next girl that walks into the room fall in love with him. sunghoon, however, hadn’t anticipated the feelings he would gain during those 30 days.

↳ GENRE: fake relationship (kind of)

↳ WORDCOUNT: around 40k

↳ WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, cigarettes, cursing, angst, sunghoon has major mommy issues lmfao, smut; oral sex, handjobs, unprotected sex, fingering, making out, handjobs etc, minors dni!

↳ TAGLIST: CLOSED !

— PART ONE release date : 8TH OF AUGUST, 4 PM CET

summary : making a bet with jay was easy. getting your attention, however, wasn’t as easy; especially since you seem to have your eyes set on his bestfriend.

word count : 10,3k

— PART TWO release date : 15TH OF AUGUST, 4 PM CET

summary : you getting closer to jake was most definitely not on sunghoons list of things he expected to happen, but you making his heart flutter wasn’t on that list either; yet you did. word count : 8,8k

— PART THREE release date : 6TH OF SEPTEMBER, 10 PM CET

summary : the time spent with you causes sunghoon to come the realization that he fucked up, and he fucked up bad. and thanks to jake, you also realize how badly sunghoon fucked up.

word count : 10k

— PART FOUR release date : 26TH OF OCTOBER, 1:25 AM CET

summary : sunghoon comes to terms with the fact that he has fallen in love with you and is willing to do everything in his power to show you that he has truly fallen for you, but are you willing to forgive him?

word count : 9.6k © svnoohe4rts 2022

---

omggg my heart!!! 😭😭

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.

YOU CAN JOIN MY PERMANENT TAGLIST BY SENDING AN ASK OR COMMENTING HERE ┊ THANK YOU FOR READING! I WOULD LOVE TO KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS ♡

© SENASCOOP | DO NOT CLAIM AS YOURS

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cutee <33

ㅤㅤㅤ  ㅤㅤㅤ   (💭)  GOT MY HEART ! 

TRENDING ?! in which jake, your best friend gets jealous after a celebrity comments on one of your tweets which leads to an unexpected confession.

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤlover girl goes viral ✶ smau, fluff

ㅤㅤㅤ #JAKEYN ! best friend!jake x best friend!reader

៹ FEATURING . . . heeseung, minjeong

ㅤ𖥻 WARNINGS 𓂋 cursing, suggestive jokes etc

author's note — this is a birthday special for jakey and also because I cant make long smaus at all. hope you enjoy <3

⤹ : CHECK OUT THEIR PROFILES !

OO1 | AWOOGA

OO2 | Crunch.

OO3 | hard while seeing

OO4 | grew a pair

OO5 | DIE

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤin conclusion jake is babygirl

SEND AN ASK OR COMMENT TO JOIN

TAGLIST (CLOSED) @stellarpsh @enhastolemyheart @owotalks @fakeuwus @mrchweeee @isoobie @ghostiiess @euncsace @oldjws @rikisly @hoonvrs @bluriki @ramenoil @neozon3nha @beomsbeanie @jiawji @s4turnsl0ver

PERM TAGLIST (OPEN) @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom @redm4ri @hanniluvi @haechansbbg

© yeokii — do not copy, repost, translate any of my works on any platform

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[ 희승 ] ONE HIT WONDER ꒰ L.HS x F!READER

IN WHICH ?! — Y/n was just a one-hit wonder with her popular track “CRUEL SUMMER” which charted #10 on billboard hot 100. A year and a half later when she releases her second single she’s upset seeing that it’s no where near as big as her debut, that is until ENHYPEN member heeseung recommends it to his viewers.

genre … smau, fluff, strangers to lovers, idol x idol

warnings … swearing, rude humor, ill use photos of yunjin for y/n! tell me if i missed anything else!

featuring … huh yunjin of LE SSERAFIM as Pae Y/n, choerry of LOONA, choi yeonjun of TXT, choi yena, yoon keeho of P1H, haku shota/soul of P1H, lee hyein of NEWJEANS, jang wonyoung of IVE, naoi rei of IVE, yves of LOONA, LE SSERAFIM AS SIRENE MEMBERS, multiple THE BOYZ members

release date … 11.30.22

status … completed 2.17.23

ej note … LETS GOOOOO

disclaimer … this is all fictional

taglist (closed) … @iulrma @jangwonie @cwsana @luvyrin @shinsou-rii @amara-mars @ineedaherosavemeenow @mintydayeon @love-4-keum @kpopx-xlover @abdiitcryy @beepjeongie @rikijackson04 @hyeki @nyfwyeonjun @yenqa @wondering-out-loud @ilvsoup @umsol @amara-mars @trsrina @kokoiinuts @s4turnsl0ver @seesaweun @captivq @wonieleles @kyanmeai

﹙★﹚PROFILES !! — 001 — 002 — 003 — 004

001. love is sour grapes! | smau + written (138 wrds)

002. hi babygirl | smau

003. cosmoyn | smau

004. me and my pack | smau

005. inkigayo jail | smau

006. yeonjun and yn? | smau

007. put heeseung on | smau

008. sunbae | smau

009. SIRENE WHO | smau

↳ new profile : sirene gals

010. pretty girls | smau + written (205 wrds)

011. the new it girl | smau

012. baeyz | smau

013. rene girls | smau

014. wonyoung DOOP | smau

015. bed peace | smau

016. hold my hand | smau + written (99 wrds)

017. SWEET SCENARIO | smau

018. cuter than our maknae | smau

019. SHAKE THAT ___ | smau

020. ex girl | smau

021. y/n 🔛🔝 | smau

022. too pretty to act like this | smau

023. girlfriend | smau

024. heerizzler | smau + written (360 wrds)

025. maknaez! | smau

026. blue flame | smau

027. SIDE EYE | smau

028. k.hiah exposed | smau

029. sour grapes anniversary | smau (final)

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