pairing — enha!jungwon x fem!reader
genre — pure fluff, established relationship, idol au, valentine’s day special
word count — (1.4k words)
warnings — just sweetness, soft affection, and a tiny bit of public relationship reveal (positive reactions). This is a work of fiction, let's read responsibly & separate fiction from reality.
The first thing Jungwon does when he wakes up is look for you.
Not his phone. Not the clock. Not even the sunlight spilling lazily through the curtains of his apartment.
You.
And luckily for him, you’re right there.
Your head rests on his shoulder, your hand curled loosely against his chest, your breathing slow and warm against his collarbone. For a moment, he doesn’t move. He just watches.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers softly, brushing his thumb against your knuckles.
You stir slightly, eyelashes fluttering before your eyes slowly open. It takes a second for you to register where you are—and then you smile.
That smile.
The one that makes Yang Jungwon forget every exhausting rehearsal, every late-night schedule, every bit of pressure that comes with being the leader of Enhypen.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you murmur back, voice still thick with sleep.
He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. It’s soft, lingering, like he’s memorizing the warmth of you.
Today was supposed to be simple.
Just the two of you. No cameras. No staff. No schedules. No leader duties. Just Jungwon and you.
And maybe that’s why his heart feels a little heavier than usual.
Because today, he plans to change everything.
---
“Close your eyes,” he says later that afternoon, guiding you carefully by the hands.
“Jungwon,” you laugh, “if I trip, I’m blaming you.”
“You won’t. I won’t let you.”
There’s no hesitation in his voice. Just quiet certainty.
You squeeze your eyes shut as he leads you onto the rooftop of his apartment building. The February air is cool, but not biting. A soft golden sunset paints the sky in shades of peach and rose.
“Okay,” he says. “You can open them.”
When you do, you gasp.
Fairy lights hang delicately along the railings. A small picnic blanket is laid out neatly in the center, scattered with rose petals. There’s a basket filled with your favorite snacks, chocolate-covered strawberries, and the exact sparkling drink you once mentioned liking three months ago in passing.
“You remembered,” you breathe.
He scratches the back of his neck shyly. “Of course I did.”
There’s something so endearing about the way he looks at you—like he’s always slightly surprised that you’re real.
“You didn’t have to go all out,” you say softly.
“I wanted to.”
You sit together on the blanket, knees touching. The city hums faintly below, distant and harmless. Up here, it feels like your own little world.
You feed him a strawberry. He pretends to bite your fingers. You laugh and swat at his shoulder.
For a while, it’s just that.
Soft touches. Shared chocolate. Pink skies fading into twilight.
But Jungwon grows quieter as the sky darkens.
You notice.
“You’re thinking too loudly,” you tease gently.
He exhales, looking down at your intertwined hands.
“There’s something I want to ask you,” he says.
You tilt your head. “That sounds serious.”
“It is.”
Your heart skips—but not in fear. Just anticipation.
He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his phone.
“Can I post something?” he asks carefully.
You blink. “Post?”
He nods.
Jungwon had always been protective of your relationship. Not secretive out of shame—never that. Just careful. The world he lived in was loud and sometimes cruel. He didn’t want that noise touching you.
But lately, hiding you felt wrong.
Like he was dimming something beautiful.
“I want to tell them,” he says quietly. “About us.”
The wind moves softly through his hair. His eyes don’t leave yours.
“I don’t want to hide you anymore. I don’t want to act like I’m alone when I’m not. You’re the most important person in my life.”
Your breath catches.
“Jungwon…”
“I know there will be reactions. Some good. Some maybe not. But I don’t want fear to decide things for us.” His grip on your hands tightens slightly. “I’m proud of loving you.”
The sincerity in his voice makes your eyes sting.
“You don’t have to do this for me,” you whisper.
“I’m not doing it because I have to,” he replies immediately. “I’m doing it because I want to.”
Silence settles between you—but it’s warm, steady.
You think about all the quiet dates. The subtle glances in public. The way he would step slightly ahead of you to shield you from cameras. The carefulness.
He was always brave for everyone else.
Maybe it was time to be brave for himself.
“For the record,” you say softly, “I’m proud of loving you too.”
His lips curve into that soft, almost shy smile.
“Then… is that a yes?”
You nod.
“Yes.”
---
He doesn’t post anything dramatic.
No long essay. No flashy announcement.
Just a simple photo.
You and him, sitting on the rooftop blanket, foreheads touching. The fairy lights glowing softly behind you. Your hands laced together clearly in frame.
Caption:
Happy Valentine’s Day. I’m happiest when I’m with her.
He shows you before pressing upload.
“Ready?” he asks.
You squeeze his hand.
“Ready.”
He posts it.
And then he immediately locks his phone and sets it face down.
You laugh. “Aren’t you going to check?”
He shakes his head.
“No. Tonight is ours.”
Your heart melts a little more.
He pulls you closer, wrapping his coat around both of you like a shared cocoon. The city lights flicker on below, one by one.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks.
“How could I forget? You spilled iced coffee on my shoes.”
“It was an accident!”
“You panicked so badly you almost bowed to the floor.”
He groans, hiding his face in your shoulder. “Why do you remember that part?”
“Because it was cute.”
He looks up at that.
“Cute?”
“Very.”
He studies you carefully, as if weighing your words.
“You thought I was cute?”
“I still do.”
There’s a quiet pause.
Then he kisses you.
It’s slow. Soft. Sweet in the way only Jungwon can be—like he’s careful not just with your body, but with your heart. His hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing gently along your skin.
When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours.
“I love you,” he says.
Not rushed. Not dramatic.
Just true.
You smile.
“I love you more.”
He immediately frowns playfully. “That’s not possible.”
“It is.”
“We can measure it.”
“How?”
He thinks for a second.
“Okay. On three, we both say how much we love each other.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Just trust me.”
You giggle. “Fine.”
“One… two… three—”
“I love you to every lifetime,” you say.
“I love you in every universe,” he says at the same time.
You both pause.
Then laugh.
“See?” he says proudly. “We’re equal.”
You shake your head fondly.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re mine.”
The words aren’t possessive. They’re soft. Certain.
A few minutes later, his phone buzzes nonstop on the blanket.
You both glance at it.
He hesitates.
“Should we…?”
You nod.
He flips it over.
Thousands of notifications.
Comments. Likes. Messages.
His breath stills for a second.
Then he opens the app.
The top comments are flooding in:
~If he’s happy, we’re happy.
~She must be amazing.
~Protect them at all costs.
~Leader Jungwon deserves love too.
You feel tears prick your eyes.
He exhales shakily.
“They’re… okay,” he murmurs, almost disbelieving.
You smile. “They love you.”
He looks at you.
“They love us.”
He sets the phone aside again, but this time his expression is lighter. Freer.
“See?” you whisper. “You were brave for nothing.”
He chuckles. “I was brave for you.”
You lean in and kiss his cheek.
“And I’ll always choose you,” he says quietly.
The night deepens around you. The fairy lights glow brighter against the dark sky. Somewhere below, a car passes. A couple laughs in the distance.
But up here, it’s just the two of you.
No stage.
No spotlight.
No expectations.
Just Jungwon—soft, warm, smiling like he’s found something precious.
And you.
He rests his chin on top of your head, holding you close.
“Next Valentine’s Day,” he says thoughtfully.
“Mm?”
“We won’t need to hide anything at all.”
You tilt your head up at him.
“We don’t anymore.”
He smiles.
And under the quiet February stars, wrapped in fairy lights and newfound freedom, Jungwon realizes something simple and certain—
No matter how loud the world gets.
No matter how many stages he stands on.
No matter how many universes exist.
He will always choose you.
And this Valentine’s Day will be the first of many where love doesn’t need to whisper.
pairing — ald1!sangwon × fem!reader
genre — fluff, romance, slice of life, light suggestive
word count — (1.5k words)
warnings — clingy behavior, playful teasing, kissing, flirty touches, busy college stress. This is a work of fiction, let's read responsibly & separate fiction from reality.
The apartment was quiet again, except now the rain had started, pattering softly against the window. The dim glow of the desk lamp illuminated her notes, scattered papers, and laptop, but Sangwon was the brightest thing in the room.
He was still sitting on the chair beside her, one arm draped over the back, the other hand occasionally reaching over to mess with her pen or flick her highlighter playfully. Every time she tried to focus, he’d nudge her shoulder or whisper something ridiculous.
“Why are you like this?” she groaned, though her lips quirked up in a smile.
“Like what?” he asked innocently, pretending not to know, but his thumb was brushing her wrist slowly.
“Like… distracting. Clingy. Touchy. All of the above,” she said, finally closing her laptop halfway in defeat.
Sangwon grinned, leaning closer until his chest was brushing hers. “Good. Because I don’t plan on stopping.”
Before she could protest, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple, then along her jawline, his lips warm and gentle. “I missed you,” he whispered, his nose brushing against hers.
“Do you ever take a break?” she teased, though her heartbeat was betraying her.
“Not from you,” he replied simply, tilting her chin up to kiss her softly. This one lingered a little longer, testing boundaries while never rushing. She melted into it, letting herself forget the looming deadlines.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. “You’re stressed,” he said.
She sighed. “You could say that.”
“Then let me help,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck. “I’ll make it better.”
“You can’t do my essays,” she said, laughing, though she didn’t push him away.
“I can make you feel better,” he countered, pressing another kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “Mentally and… emotionally.”
She felt warmth spread through her chest, her laughter turning into a soft sigh as he leaned in again. This time, his hands slid to her waist, holding her close as he peppered small kisses along her jaw, neck, and the corner of her lips. She tried to focus on her notes, but every time she picked up her pen, his thumb would brush against her hand, dragging her attention right back to him.
“You’re impossible,” she murmured against his lips.
“Only for you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers again. Then, without warning, he kissed her properly—soft, slow, playful. His hand cupped her cheek as his lips moved with a mix of tenderness and mischief.
When they parted, he smirked. “Okay, break’s over. Back to work.”
“Excuse me?” she blinked.
“You look like you need a break anyway. I’m just helping.”
She rolled her eyes, but before she could argue, he scooped her up, settling her on his lap. “See? Perfect position. Now you can work, and I can… you know, supervise.”
“Supervise?” she asked skeptically, though she didn’t resist as he pulled her closer.
“Yes. Supervise. And make sure you don’t get too stressed,” he said with a cheeky grin, leaning in to kiss her nose. “You know… emotional support.”
She groaned, hiding her face in his hoodie. “You’re impossible,” she repeated, though there was laughter in her voice this time.
“And you love me for it,” he replied, pressing another kiss to the top of her head.
The rain outside was steady now, the soft sound blending perfectly with Sangwon’s low hums as he kissed her temple, her cheek, her jawline. His hands traced gentle patterns along her arms, shoulders, and waist, making her squirm with both delight and embarrassment.
“You’re so clingy,” she whispered, pressing her hand to his chest.
“Good,” he said, nuzzling her again. “You like it.”
“I… maybe,” she admitted, closing her eyes and leaning into him.
“See?” he murmured, lips brushing hers in a teasing kiss. “You do like it. Admit it.”
“Fine,” she said, laughing softly. “I like it.”
“Good answer,” he said, grinning against her lips before pressing another kiss there. This one was longer, soft but deliberate, leaving her slightly breathless.
She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, his expression full of warmth and something that made her heart skip. “I don’t ever want to let go,” he admitted quietly.
“You don’t have to,” she replied, running her fingers through his hair. “Not tonight.”
He smiled, kissing her once more—this time on the forehead, then the nose, then her lips again. “Perfect,” he murmured. “I could stay like this forever.”
“And I wouldn’t mind,” she said, nuzzling into him as he wrapped both arms around her.
They stayed like that for a while, the rain tapping softly on the window, the city lights outside casting faint glows across the room. Sangwon hummed against her hair, and she felt the tension of the day melt away with every kiss, every gentle touch, every playful nuzzle.
Eventually, she leaned back, stretching lazily across him. “Food?” she asked, though she wasn’t in a hurry to leave his lap.
He laughed. “Yeah, food sounds good. But we’ll cuddle while we eat.”
She groaned playfully. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me,” he reminded her, kissing her temple.
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile spreading across her face. “Yeah. I do.”
Sangwon’s grin widened, eyes sparkling. “Good. Because I plan on proving it every single day.”
And tonight, at least, she was more than happy to let him.
pairing — riize!anton × male!reader
genre — university au, sports romance, rivals-to-lovers, angst with fluff
warnings — competitive pressure, mild emotional angst, internalized feelings, tsundere behavior. This is a work of fiction, let's read responsibly & separate fiction from reality.
word count — (1.3k words)
The first thing you learn about Anton Lee is that he is untouchable in the water.
The second thing you learn is that he hates losing.
Which is unfortunate, because you want to beat him more than you want to breathe.
The university aquatic center smells like chlorine and early mornings. It’s still dark outside, the kind of hour where only swimmers and insomniacs exist. The pool lights glow blue, reflections trembling along the tiled walls as Anton dives in without hesitation—clean, precise, perfect.
You follow half a second later.
The cold slams into your skin, and for a moment everything else disappears. Sound dulls. Thoughts quiet. This is the only place you feel honest.
You swim hard. Harder than you should. Your arms burn, lungs screaming by the third lap, but you push because Anton is just ahead of you. Always just ahead.
When you finish, you surface at the wall, gasping. Anton pulls himself out effortlessly, water sliding down his shoulders, hair plastered to his forehead. He doesn’t look tired. He never does.
“You’re pacing wrong,” he says, not even looking at you.
You snort. “Did I ask for coaching?”
Anton finally glances your way, unimpressed eyes flicking over you. “No. But if you’re trying to beat me like that, you won’t.”
There it is. That casual confidence. That stupid, infuriating certainty.
You hate him for it.
And you hate yourself more for noticing the way his mouth quirks when he’s annoyed, or how he always pretends not to care but still stays behind after practice, correcting his turns over and over again.
You hate that you’ve been pining for him since freshman year.
---
You meet Anton during tryouts.
You remember because he beat the record that day.
You remember because you came in second.
You remember because when you shook his hand, he smiled politely and said, “Good race,” like it didn’t matter at all.
It mattered to you.
Since then, everything has been a competition. Lap times. Endurance drills. Who finishes exams first, who gets called out by the coach more. You train longer, push harder, skip parties and sleep because you tell yourself this is about swimming.
But sometimes, late at night, staring at the ceiling with your muscles aching, you know the truth.
You don’t just want to beat Anton.
You want him to see you.
---
“Stop staring.”
You nearly choke on your water bottle.
Anton is sitting on the bench beside you, towel draped over his shoulders, phone in hand. He doesn’t look up, but you know he’s talking to you.
“I wasn’t staring,” you lie.
“You were,” he says flatly. “You always do before races.”
Heat creeps up your neck. “You’re imagining things.”
He finally looks at you then, one eyebrow raised. “If I was imagining things, you wouldn’t swim like you’re trying to kill yourself every time I’m in the next lane.”
You bristle. “Maybe I just take this seriously.”
“I do too,” Anton replies, sharper now. “That doesn’t mean you have to destroy yourself.”
The words catch you off guard.
For a second, the pool noise fades, replaced by the sudden awareness of how close he is. How his eyes soften just a fraction when he’s not guarded.
You look away first.
“Why do you care?” you ask quietly.
Anton stiffens.
“I don’t,” he says too quickly. “Just… don’t want my rival burning out. It’d be boring.”
There he is again. Tsundere to the core.
You laugh under your breath. “Right. Wouldn’t want that.”
---
The meet that changes everything comes mid-semester.
It’s a regional university competition, stands packed with students and families. Your coach’s expectations sit heavy on your shoulders. So does Anton’s presence beside you on the starting block.
You don’t look at him.
If you do, you might unravel.
“Swimmers, take your marks.”
You inhale deeply, fingers curling over the edge.
This time, you don’t think about beating Anton.
You think about keeping pace with yourself.
The buzzer sounds.
You dive.
The water swallows you whole, familiar and merciless. You find your rhythm, strokes clean, turns sharp. Lap after lap, you focus on your breathing, your form, your training.
You don’t know where Anton is.
And for the first time, that doesn’t scare you.
When you touch the wall at the finish, your lungs are on fire. You surface, vision blurry, heart pounding.
Then the scoreboard updates.
Your name.
First.
For a moment, you think it’s a mistake.
Then you hear it—the roar of the crowd, the sharp whistle of your coach, the sound of Anton surfacing beside you.
He stares at the board. Then at you.
You expect bitterness. Shock. Anything.
Instead, he smiles.
It’s small. Real. Unguarded.
“You did it,” he says.
Something in your chest cracks.
---
Anton finds you later, behind the bleachers where the noise is muted.
“You’ve been holding back,” he says, leaning against the railing.
You shake your head. “No. I’ve just been… trying too hard.”
He hums in agreement. “Yeah. You always swim like you’re chasing something.”
You swallow. “Maybe I was.”
Silence stretches between you, heavy but not uncomfortable.
“Why me?” Anton asks suddenly.
You blink. “What?”
“Why do you always look at me like that?” His voice is quieter now. Vulnerable in a way you’ve never heard before. “Why do you push yourself hardest when it’s against me?”
Your heart pounds louder than any meet.
You could dodge the question. You’ve been doing it for years.
Instead, you exhale.
“Because I like you,” you admit. “And I didn’t know how else to say it.”
Anton freezes.
For a terrifying second, you think you’ve ruined everything.
Then he laughs softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re an idiot.”
You wince. “Yeah, I know—”
“I like you too,” he interrupts, cheeks faintly pink. “But you make it really hard when you treat me like an enemy.”
You stare at him. “You literally call me your rival.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t care,” he mutters. “It just means I don’t know how to say it without sounding stupid.”
You grin. “Tsundere.”
He groans. “Don’t call me that.”
You step closer, heart racing. “So… what now?”
Anton meets your gaze, eyes steady. “Now we stop trying to outswim each other just to get attention.”
“And instead?”
He hesitates, then reaches out, fingers brushing yours. “We swim side by side.”
Your breath catches.
For the first time, you don’t feel like you’re chasing him.
If request still open, can I request Riize Anton x Rival!Male reader, where they both are a sports swimmer(?). Where the reader secretly pining for anton and in order to get anton’s attention is to be better at swimming than him. Can be angst or fluff. Lil bit of Tsundere Anton?
It might take a while for me to write it since school starting soon, but I'll make sure to do it as soon as possible🫶
ps: Hi! your request is posted. I just forgot to write it under your request. I hope you like it!🫶
pairing — Ald1!Sangwon × Fem!Reader
genre — soft fluff, idol au, established relationship
warnings — pure fluff, emotional moments. This is a work of fiction, let's read responsibly & separate fiction from reality.
word count — (1.5k words)
a/n — Belated Happy debut day Alpha Drive One!🎉
January 12, 2026.
It doesn’t feel real until the stage lights dim.
Until the screams crash over the venue like waves you can’t outrun. Until the name Alpha Drive One echoes through the hall, louder than your own heartbeat. You stand backstage, fingers clenched around the laminated staff pass someone slipped into your hands minutes ago, chest tight in a way that almost hurts.
You’ve imagined this day for years.
Not just since the announcement of the final lineup on Boys 2 Planet, but since 2020—since he was just a boy with too-big dreams and a practice room that smelled like sweat and instant coffee. Since the days when his voice cracked from overtraining and he’d laugh it off, pretending it didn’t matter.
You were there when it mattered.
From the shadows, you watch them perform their debut song. Sangwon stands center during the chorus, eyes sharp, movements clean, voice steady. The boy who once practiced until dawn now commands the stage like it’s always belonged to him.
Your vision blurs.
“He did it,” you whisper to no one.
When the performance ends, the cheers are deafening. Confetti falls. The members bow together, shoulders brushing, breathless and shining. Sangwon smiles so wide it looks like it might split his face in two.
You don’t move until they disappear backstage.
Only then does your body remember how to breathe.
---
The dressing room hums with noise—staff congratulating them, managers giving instructions, members talking over one another in excited disbelief.
You slip inside quietly.
Junseo is the first to notice you.
The oldest member freezes mid-sentence, eyes widening before a slow grin spreads across his face. “Oh,” he says softly. “So that’s the surprise.”
Leo follows his gaze, then Arno, then Geonwoo. Xinlong nudges Anxin, who immediately clamps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from squealing. Sanghyeon looks between all of them, confused for half a second—until he sees you.
Every single one of them understands instantly.
Without a word, Junseo clears his throat. “Alright,” he says, suddenly very interested in the far corner of the room. “Let’s, uh… give them a moment.”
They shuffle out with exaggerated casualness, some bowing politely to you, others giving you thumbs-ups and whispered their greetings. The door closes behind them with a soft click.
And then—
“Sangwon?”
He’s sitting in front of the mirror, still in his debut outfit, hands resting on his knees as he stares at his reflection like it might vanish if he looks away. When he hears your voice, he stiffens.
Slowly, like he’s afraid this is a hallucination, he turns around.
For a second, he just stares.
Then his lips part. “You—”
You smile, eyes shining. “Congratulations on your debut.”
His breath shudders.
In two steps, he’s in front of you.
Sangwon pulls you into his arms with a strength that surprises you, burying his face into your shoulder like the world might disappear if he lets go. You wrap your arms around him instantly, fingers curling into the fabric of his stage jacket.
“You’re here,” he whispers, voice cracking. “You’re really here.”
“I wouldn’t miss this,” you murmur. “Not for anything.”
He laughs, breathless and wet, the sound muffled against your neck. “I kept thinking—what if you were watching on a screen somewhere? What if I couldn’t see you at all today?”
You pull back just enough to cup his face, thumbs brushing under his eyes where tears threaten to fall. “I told you, remember? I’d be there when it finally happened.”
His eyes glisten. “You said that in 2020.”
“And I meant it in 2020,” you say gently. “I mean it now.”
He closes his eyes, forehead pressing against yours. For a moment, there’s no idol, no cameras, no expectations—just the two of you in a quiet room after the loudest moment of his life.
“I was so scared,” Sangwon admits softly. “Even today. I kept thinking… what if I mess up? What if I’m not good enough after all this time?”
You smile, brushing his hair back from his damp forehead. “And yet you still went out there.”
“Because I thought of you,” he confesses. “Every time my legs felt weak, I remembered all those nights you waited outside practice rooms. All the times you told me it was okay to be tired.”
Your chest tightens.
“You didn’t just debut today,” you whisper. “You survived everything before it.”
He opens his eyes and looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.
Then he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Another to your temple. Finally, one to your lips—gentle, lingering, full of years that led to this exact second.
When he pulls back, he laughs quietly. “I wanted to surprise you tonight.”
“Oh?” you tease, raising a brow.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, slightly crumpled piece of paper. “I wrote this during trainee days. I was supposed to read it after debut.”
He unfolds it carefully.
“ ‘To the person who never left,’ ” he reads aloud. “ ‘If I’m standing on a stage today, it’s because you believed before anyone else did.’ ”
Your throat tightens. “Sangwon…”
“I was going to give this to you after the showcase,” he says, voice warm and shy. “But I guess you surprised me first.”
You take the paper with trembling fingers and smile through tears. “We’re even, then.”
The door creaks open slightly.
Junseo peeks in. “We done?” he asks with a knowing grin.
Sangwon laughs, wiping his eyes. “Yeah. We’re good.”
The members file back in, immediately filling the room with noise again—teasing Sangwon for crying, congratulating you, throwing arms around one another in messy group hugs.
Sanghyeon beams. “Hyung, you look like you won the lottery.”
Sangwon glances at you, hand slipping naturally into yours. “I did.”
Later, when the lights outside finally dim and the world begins to quiet, Sangwon leans close and whispers, “Stay with me tonight?”
You squeeze his hand. “Always.”
Outside, the debut date will be remembered by fans, written into history, replayed on screens for years to come.
But for you and Sangwon—
January 12, 2026 will always be the day the dream finally learned how to breathe.
TWS Shinyu x Male reader. Mutually pining each other, reader think it’s unrequited love, so he slowly avoiding shinyu. Angst then fluff
If I Keep Leaving, Will you Notice?
pairing — TWS!Shinyu × Male!Reader
genre — angst to fluff, mutual pining, slow burn, university au
warnings — emotional angst, avoidance, insecurity, miscommunication, yearning, emotional vulnerability, soft kissing. This is a work of fiction, let's read responsibly & separate fiction from reality.
word count — (1.4k words)
a/n — here's your request anon, I hope this is exactly what you requested and I hope you like it. Thank youuuuu🫶
You don’t fall in love loudly.
You fall in love quietly, the kind that settles deep in your chest and stays there, aching but patient. The kind that watches from the sidelines and convinces itself that wanting is enough—that being close is already a privilege.
That’s how it is with Shinyu.
He sits next to you in lectures like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Always to your left. Always close enough that your elbows brush when you write. Close enough that you can smell his shampoo, clean and faintly sweet, and it makes concentrating nearly impossible.
He remembers things about you you don’t remember telling him. Your coffee order. The way you hate group projects. The song you hummed absentmindedly once while studying, which he later sends you with a this reminded me of you.
You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything.
Because Shinyu is kind to everyone. Because people like him don’t choose people like you. Because the way he smiles at you must be the same way he smiles at others—warm, open, easy.
So you keep your feelings folded small.
You let him walk you back to your dorm even when your heart races the entire time. You let him lean close to show you something on his phone, even when it feels like too much. You let yourself imagine things you know you shouldn’t.
And then one night, while you’re studying together in the library, he casually mentions someone from his sociology class.
“She’s nice,” he says, eyes still on his laptop. “Really smart.”
You nod like it doesn’t matter.
That’s when something in you decides it’s time to leave.
Not all at once. That would be too obvious. Too dramatic.
Instead, you start choosing distance.
You arrive late to class so you won’t sit next to him. You say you’re busy when he asks to eat together. You stop texting first. Then you stop texting at all.
Each time you do, it feels like tearing off a piece of yourself.
But it hurts less than staying.
Because being around Shinyu when you’re in love with him—and he might love someone else—feels unbearable.
Shinyu doesn’t confront you immediately.
At first, he waits.
He tells himself you’re stressed. That midterms are hard. That you need space and he should respect that. But the way you don’t look at him anymore eats at him. The way your replies become shorter, colder, nonexistent.
He replays your last normal conversation over and over, searching for the moment everything went wrong.
When he finally messages you—
Shinyu: did I do something wrong?
you stare at the screen until your vision blurs.
You don’t respond.
Avoiding him becomes routine. A habit. A shield.
And then one afternoon, as you’re leaving the library, you hear your name.
You freeze.
Shinyu stands a few feet away, backpack slung over one shoulder, eyes searching your face like he’s afraid you’ll disappear again.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
You should say no.
You should keep walking.
But you’re tired of running.
You nod.
Outside, the campus is quiet, the sky heavy and gray. You stand facing him, hands clenched in your sleeves.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Shinyu says, not accusing—just hurt.
“I’ve just been busy,” you reply, voice flat.
He shakes his head slightly. “No. This is different.”
Silence stretches between you, thick and painful.
“Did I do something?” he asks again, quieter this time.
You laugh weakly. “You didn’t.”
“Then why does it feel like I lost you?” he asks.
Your chest tightens.
“You didn’t lose anything,” you whisper. “I was never—”
“Don’t,” he says suddenly. “Don’t say that.”
You look up at him, surprised by the urgency in his voice.
“You matter to me,” Shinyu continues, stepping closer. “A lot. And I don’t understand why you’re pushing me away.”
You swallow hard. “Because I don’t know how to stay.”
His brows knit together. “What does that mean?”
It’s now or never.
“I like you,” you say, the words trembling as they leave your mouth. “And I thought it would go away if I stayed long enough. But it didn’t. And hearing you talk about other people—”
His eyes widen.
“I thought it was obvious I was just your friend,” you continue, voice cracking. “So I figured leaving would hurt less than hoping.”
Shinyu stares at you, stunned.
“You thought… I was talking about other people because I liked them?” he asks.
You nod.
“I was doing that because I thought you didn’t like me,” he admits softly. “I thought you were being polite. Or distant. I didn’t think I had a chance.”
The realization hits both of you at the same time.
You were hurting each other without meaning to.
“You avoided me because you were scared,” Shinyu says slowly.
“And you talked about other people because you were scared,” you reply.
“Yeah,” he exhales. “That’s… really stupid.”
You laugh through tears. “Extremely.”
Shinyu hesitates, then reaches out, fingers brushing yours. “Please don’t disappear on me again.”
Your breath stutters. “I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t,” he says, voice gentle. “Stay. Even if you’re unsure. Stay with me.”
You look at him—the boy you thought you had to give up—and realize he’s been standing right here the entire time.
“I like you,” you repeat, stronger now. “I always have.”
Shinyu smiles, soft and relieved. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away.
You don’t.
When his lips meet yours, it’s hesitant at first—warm, careful, like he’s afraid of crossing a line. You kiss him back, heart pounding, hands gripping his jacket like he might vanish if you don’t hold on.
It’s not rushed. It’s not desperate.
It’s safe.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Shinyu whispers.
For the first time in a long while, you believe it.
pairing — Bnd!Jaehyun × Fem!Reader
genre — idol au, romance, angst with comfort, slow burn, public reveal
warnings — emotional tension, secret relationship stress, media scrutiny, mild fan backlash(non-graphic). This is a work of fiction, let's read responsibly & separate fiction from reality.
word count — (1.3k words)
a/n — happy new year everyone!!🎇
inspired by — "Secret Love Song" by Little Mix
There was a special kind of loneliness that came with loving Jaehyun.
It wasn’t the kind that left you empty—it was the kind that left you full to the brim, bursting with things you couldn’t say out loud.
Your fingers were laced together beneath the table at a dimly lit restaurant, hidden behind the careful placement of menus and a low-hanging lamp. To anyone passing by, you looked like two idols from different groups coincidentally sharing a late meal after schedules. Nothing more. Nothing suspicious.
But Jaehyun’s thumb brushed against your knuckle, slow and familiar, and your heart ached in a way you’d grown used to.
“When you hold me like this,” you whispered, barely audible over the soft music, “I always wish it could be anywhere else.”
He didn’t pretend not to understand. Jaehyun never did.
His jaw tightened slightly, eyes flicking toward the glass window where the city lights reflected back at you—bright, public, unforgiving. “I know,” he said quietly. “I think about it every time.”
Every time you walked side by side but never close enough to touch.
Every time he laughed with you backstage but never looked at you for too long.
Every time you stood in the crowd during Boynextdoor’s performances, cheering like any other fan while your heart screamed his name.
You were his. He was yours.
And the world didn’t know.
---
The announcement came three weeks later.
You were in the practice room when your manager cleared her throat, tablet tucked under her arm, expression carefully neutral.
“There’s been a change in the award show lineup,” she said. “You’ll be doing a special stage.”
Your stomach flipped. “With…?”
“Boynextdoor Jaehyun.”
The room went silent.
You felt it before you saw it—the way Jaehyun’s presence filled the space even when he wasn’t there. A thousand stolen moments flashed through your mind. Closed doors. Quiet laughter. Late-night calls where you talked about everything except how badly you wanted more.
“A duet?” you asked.
“Yes. Romantic concept. Minimal choreography. Live vocals.”
Romantic.
You nodded because that was what idols did. You smiled because that was what was expected.
But later that night, when Jaehyun called you from his dorm, his voice was trembling.
“Did you hear?”
“I did.”
A pause. Then, softer, “Are you scared?”
You closed your eyes. “A little.”
“Me too,” he admitted. “But… part of me feels like this might be something else.”
You swallowed. “Something else how?”
“Like a door,” he said. “That we’re being given the chance to open.”
---
Rehearsals were torture.
Not because they were bad—because they were too good.
Standing across from Jaehyun under the harsh lights of the practice hall, singing lyrics about longing and love, felt dangerously close to the truth. His eyes never left yours when you sang your parts. Every note carried the weight of everything you’d never been allowed to show.
“Don’t look at her like that,” one of the choreographers joked once. “Fans will start rumors.”
Jaehyun laughed, stepping back, putting distance where there had been none.
You hated how natural it had become.
But the night before the award show, everything changed.
You were sitting in his car, parked in a quiet corner of the company garage, the engine off, the world held at bay by concrete walls.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said suddenly.
Jaehyun turned to you. “Do what?”
“Hide,” you whispered. “I don’t want to pretend you’re just… someone I sing with.”
Silence fell between you, heavy and terrifying.
Then Jaehyun reached for your hand—no hesitation, no fear. “Then don’t.”
You stared at him. “It’s not that easy.”
“I know,” he said. His voice shook, but his grip didn’t. “But if we’re going to risk something… I want it to be for us. Not by accident. Not through a scandal.”
Your breath caught. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” he took a deep breath, “tomorrow, when we’re on that stage… I want to tell the truth. Not with words. But in a way they can’t misunderstand.”
Your heart pounded. “Jaehyun—”
“I know what it could cost,” he interrupted gently. “But I also know what it’s been costing us.”
You thought of every moment you’d died a little inside when he walked past you without stopping. Every time you’d watched him pretend not to know you.
You nodded, tears blurring your vision. “Okay.”
---
The stage lights were blinding.
The crowd roared as your name and Jaehyun’s echoed through the arena. Cameras zoomed in, capturing every breath, every glance.
The music started soft.
When you sang, your voice trembled—not from nerves, but from honesty. From years of wanting to be held in the street. From wishing you could kiss him on the dance floor and not just in the shadows.
Jaehyun stepped closer than rehearsed.
You felt it immediately—the shift in the air. The sharp intake of breath from the audience.
This wasn’t choreography.
When his hand reached for yours, openly, deliberately, the arena went silent.
Your fingers intertwined.
And Jaehyun looked at you—not like an idol, not like a performer—but like the man who loved you.
He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours as the final note rang out.
No kiss.
No words.
Just truth.
The silence broke into chaos.
Gasps. Screams. Cameras flashing wildly.
Backstage was pandemonium. Managers shouting. Phones buzzing nonstop.
But Jaehyun never let go of your hand.
“I’m yours,” he said quietly, like a promise. “No matter what happens next.”
Tears spilled down your cheeks as you smiled. “I know.”
---
The headlines were brutal at first.
SCANDAL.
IDOLS CROSS THE LINE.
FANS DIVIDED OVER SHOCKING AWARD SHOW MOMENT.
But then something unexpected happened.
Fans started posting clips—not of outrage, but of the way Jaehyun looked at you. The way you smiled through your tears. The way love, undeniable and real, filled the space between you.
If that’s fake, I don’t believe in love anymore.
They deserve happiness too.
I hope they’re okay.
It wasn’t perfect. It was messy. Painful.
But it was real.
Weeks later, you walked beside Jaehyun down a quiet street, hands linked, no hoods, no masks.
Someone recognized you. Whispered. Smiled.
Jaehyun squeezed your hand. “Still scared?”
You looked up at the open sky, at the world that finally knew.
“A little,” you admitted. Then you smiled. “But I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”
He leaned down, kissing you right there on the sidewalk.
pairing — Enha!Ni-ki × Fem!Reader
(ft. the members)
genre — Fluff, Established Relationship, Birthday Surprise, Domestic Softness
warning(s) — Pure fluff, teasing, mentions of surprise planning. This is a work of fiction, let's read responsibly & separate fiction from reality.
word count — (1.4k words)
a/n — Happy birthday our Riki!!🫶
also belated Happy birthday Sunghoon!!🫶
December 9, 2025 — the day your boyfriend turned twenty.
You’d been counting down to it for weeks, even more than he did. Riki had joked that “twenty doesn’t feel special,” but that only pushed you to plan something he absolutely wouldn’t expect. And with Sunghoon’s birthday just yesterday, you had the perfect distraction — the members were already in celebration mode.
Which meant you could hide your plans in plain sight.
By 8 AM, you were sneaking into the dorm with Jungwon’s help — or rather, Jungwon’s endless giggling that kept making you shush him.
“Why are you laughing?” you whispered, clutching the cake box to your chest.
“You look like you’re sneaking into your boyfriend’s house,” he whispered back.
“I am sneaking into my boyfriend’s house.”
“Fair point.”
He tiptoed exaggeratedly just to make you roll your eyes before ushering you into the living room. Jake and Jay were already there, blowing balloons — terribly, because they kept bursting them.
“Y/N!” Jake beamed. “Perfect timing. Jay almost fainted.”
Jay glared. “I did not. The balloon just attacked me.”
Sunghoon was sprawled on the couch with a blanket over his head. “Can you all shut up? I’m still birthday–hungover.”
“Birthday hungover? You didn’t even drink,” Sunoo snorted as he taped streamers to the wall.
“Emotional hangover,” Sunghoon corrected, flipping the blanket dramatically. “Existing as a December birthday is exhausting.”
“Then help us prepare for Riki’s,” Heeseung said, handing Sunghoon a balloon.
“There’s no way I’m blowing that up,” Sunghoon deadpanned.
The chaos was perfect — loud, warm, everything Riki loved.
Exactly what you wanted.
You placed the cake on the table and opened the box. The frosting was smooth white, decorated with small edible figures wearing dance shoes, and the message:
“Happy 20th, My Genius.”
Sunoo squealed. “This is so cute. He’s gonna melt.”
Jake wiggled his eyebrows. “He always melts for Y/N.”
You blushed but smiled. “Let’s just make sure he’s surprised before he melts.”
Jungwon signaled everyone. “He’s still in his room. Someone distract him when he comes out.”
Heeseung volunteered instantly. “I can ask him about that new choreography.”
“Hyung, you’ll distract him for two hours,” Jay said. “We’ll miss the birthday entirely.”
Heeseung shrugged. “Fair.”
You laughed softly before asking, “Is everything ready?”
“Almost,” Jungwon said. “We just need to—”
Footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Everyone froze.
“Is that him?” Sunoo whisper–yelled.
Jay nearly fell off the couch. “Hide! Hide! Hide!”
The members scattered like cockroaches — Sunghoon dived behind the couch, Jake ducked under the table, Jay hid behind the curtains, Sunoo simply stood behind a balloon bouquet hoping it would cover him. Jungwon grabbed your wrist and pushed you behind the kitchen counter.
“Stay,” he hissed, like you were a pet.
You stuck your tongue out at him.
Then Riki’s voice floated in, groggy and very much awake.
“Why is it so loud this early?”
He stepped into the living room, hair messy, wearing a black hoodie and sweatpants, rubbing his eyes. He blinked at the chaos before him.
Streamers everywhere. Balloons taped to walls. A suspiciously large blanket lump behind the couch.
He frowned.
“Why does it look like the room exploded birthday decorations again? Didn’t we just do this for Sunghoon-hyung yesterday?”
No one answered.
Riki’s eyes narrowed further. “Hello?”
He took two steps inside—
And Sunghoon sneezed.
Violently.
From behind the couch.
Riki jolted. “HYUNG?! Why are you—”
That was your cue.
You jumped out from behind the counter, raising your arms as the members popped up from their hiding spots.
“Happy 20th Birthday, Riki!”
He blinked at all of you.
Then he blinked at you.
Then he realized.
“You… you’re here? And everyone hid? And Sunghoon sneezed on my birthday?”
Sunghoon raised a finger. “Allergies.”
But Riki wasn’t paying attention anymore — his gaze locked on you, and his entire expression went soft. He walked toward you, almost dazed.
“You surprised me?”
You smiled. “Happy birthday, Riki.”
The others cheered — Jungwon clapped loudly, Jake whistled, Jay shouted “Finally!” — but Riki didn’t look away from you even once.
He pulled you into his arms without hesitation.
His hoodie was warm, smelling faintly of laundry detergent and whatever cologne he stole from Heeseung again. He buried his face in your hair.
“You’re sneaky,” he mumbled. “I didn’t think you’d plan anything crazy after Sunghoon-hyung’s birthday.”
Sunoo groaned dramatically. “Stop hugging and look at your cake!”
Riki finally released you — reluctantly — and approached the table. His eyes widened instantly.
“‘My Genius?’”
Jay nudged him. “She chose the message.”
Jake whispered loudly, “She wanted to write ‘my baby’ but chickened out.”
You stared at Jake with horror. “Stop lying!”
But Riki just beamed — wide, bright, the kind he only gave in front of people he trusted.
“I love it,” he whispered.
---
After singing, cheering, and teasing the birthday boy endlessly, the members settled into their usual chaos. Jungwon, Jake, and Sunoo were eating cake. Jay and Sunghoon were arguing about whether the decorations were crooked. Heeseung was taking photos like a proud parent.
Riki plopped onto the couch beside you, leaning his head against your shoulder.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” he murmured.
“Of course I did. It’s your twentieth birthday.”
He looked up at you, dark eyes shining. “But you’ve been so busy lately. I thought you’d be tired.”
You tapped his forehead. “I wasn’t too tired to celebrate someone important.”
His cheeks turned pink — which, of course, the members immediately noticed.
“LOOK AT HIM BLUSHING!” Sunoo squealed.
Riki groaned and covered his face. “Hyung, stop watching!”
Heeseung smirked. “We’re witnessing romance in real time.”
Riki tugged you closer, burying his face in your shoulder now instead. “I swear they’re children.”
You chuckled. “They’re your family.”
“Unfortunately,” he mumbled.
But you felt him smile against your shoulder.
---
Later, when the members retreated to give him space — well, more like Jay dragged Sunghoon away and Jake pretended the hallway suddenly needed sweeping — you and Riki stood on the balcony.
The evening breeze was cold, but he held your hands between his.
“Hey,” he said softly, “thank you for today.”
“You should thank everyone. They helped me plan it.”
He shook his head. “I’m thanking you. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble just to make my birthday special.”
“I wanted to.”
He blinked slowly, his expression softening even more. “Can I tell you something?”
You nodded.
“This was my favorite birthday in years.”
Your breath hitched. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said, squeezing your hands. “Not because of the cake. Or the surprise. Or the decorations that were kind of ugly—”
From inside, Jay shouted, “I HEARD THAT!”
Riki grinned but continued.
“It’s because you were here. I don’t care about turning twenty. I care about seeing you first thing today. About you planning something for me. About the way you looked so excited to surprise me.”
Your heart melted instantly.
“Riki…”
He stepped closer, pressing his forehead to yours.
“Thank you… for loving me for a whole year. And for today. And for everything.”
You felt warmth bubble in your chest. “Happy birthday, Riki.”
He whispered, almost shyly, “Can I get a birthday kiss?”
You laughed softly. “You didn’t even have to ask.”
You kissed him — gentle, warm, slow — the kind that said everything words couldn’t. He held your waist carefully, as if memorizing the moment. When you pulled away, he smiled like he was holding the entire world.
“Best. Birthday. Ever.”
Behind the sliding door, you heard Jake whisper to Sunoo, “Do we go in now?”
Sunoo whispered back, “NO, LET THEM BE CUTE.”
You laughed into Riki’s hoodie as he groaned. “I hate them.”
“No, you don’t.”
He sighed, defeated. “Fine. I don’t.”
You looked up at him. “Ready to go back inside?”
He grinned mischievously. “Only if you stick by me the whole night.”
“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”
He squeezed your hand.
“Good. Because twenty feels pretty amazing… when you’re here.”
And as you walked back inside together — hand-in-hand, surrounded by his chaotic, loving members — you knew this birthday would be one he’d never forget.
pairing — enha!jungwon × fem!reader
genre — fluff, yearning, established relationship, soft romance
warnings — none (just pure sweetness). This is a work of fiction, let's read responsibly & separate fiction from reality.
word count — (1.3k words)
The night air felt colder than you expected.
Amsterdam at midnight had its own quiet rhythm—soft humming streetlamps, faint bicycle wheels in the distance, and the muted laughter of strangers drifting from faraway corners. The city felt half-asleep, half-dreaming.
But for you, the world was fully awake—because Jungwon was standing right beside you.
He wore an oversized white long-sleeve shirt and dark striped pants, looking as effortlessly pretty as the night around him. A cap sat loosely on his head, his hair peeking out in soft waves. Under the warm glow of the streetlights, he looked unreal—serene, a little tired, and impossibly yours.
“Hey,” he said, nudging your shoulder when he noticed you staring. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might melt.”
You scoffed, though your cheeks betrayed you with heat. “You’re the one who looks like you walked out of a late-night photoshoot.”
He tilted his head, a small smile forming. “You like it?”
“I always like you,” you answered honestly.
His smile faltered—not from discomfort, but because it hit him right in the heart.
He always reacted that way when you were straightforward. Like your affection had weight he wasn’t used to carrying but desperately wanted to.
“Come on,” he murmured softly, taking your hand. “Walk with me a little more.”
The roads were mostly empty. Just the two of you walking across tram tracks, your footsteps echoing lightly against the quiet city.
Jungwon swung your hands between you, unconsciously, like a habit his body had learned simply from being near you. Every few steps, he’d glance sideways at you—as if checking to make sure you were still there, still choosing him, still real.
It had been weeks since you saw each other. His schedules had been nonstop, leaving him exhausted nearly every day. Video calls weren’t the same. Text messages were fleeting. And though you understood—because his dream was something worth protecting—you missed him in ways you didn’t know how to put into words.
It turns out you didn’t need to.
Because Jungwon was the first to break the silence.
“I missed this,” he said quietly. “Being normal. Just walking around with you. Being… yours.”
You squeezed his hand. “You’re still mine. Even when you’re busy. Even when you’re tired. Even when you’re halfway across the world.”
He sighed—not unhappy, but deeply.
“That’s the thing,” he said. “You’re so patient with me. Too patient.”
“Too patient?” you echo with a raised brow.
He nodded, stopping in the middle of a crosswalk. “I feel like you always wait. And you never complain. And I know it shouldn’t make me sad, but it does.”
You stepped closer, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “Why would that make you sad?”
He hesitated. The streetlights above cast a soft, warm glow around him, tracing the curve of his jaw, the slope of his cheeks, the vulnerability in his gaze.
“Because I don’t want you to feel like you have to wait for me,” he murmured. “I don’t want to be—”
“A burden?” you finish gently.
He flinched. “Yeah.”
You lifted your hand, brushing your fingers against his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut at your touch, leaning into your warmth as if he’d been cold for weeks.
“Jungwon,” you whispered. “You are never a burden. You’re someone I choose. And someone I will keep choosing, whether we’re together like this or far apart.”
His throat bobbed. He opened his eyes, soft and glassy.
“You always say the right thing,” he muttered, pressing his forehead lightly against yours.
“That’s because you always deserve to hear it.”
He took a shaky breath, then broke into a small laugh—embarrassed, shy, overwhelmed.
“Okay, okay, stop…” He hid his face behind your shoulder. “I’m gonna get too soft.”
You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against yours.
“I like you soft,” you whisper. “It means you trust me.”
He didn’t answer at first, but his grip tightened around your waist—not possessive, just incredibly sure.
---
Later, the two of you found a quiet spot by the railings of a brick pathway.
He leaned back casually, folding his arms as if trying to appear nonchalant. But the slight tilt of his head toward you made his true feelings obvious.
He wanted to be close. He always did.
“You know,” you said, sitting on the edge beside him, “you look like you’re posing for a magazine.”
He snorted softly. “No I don’t.”
“Yes you do.”
“No, really. I don’t.”
“Jungwon, you look effortlessly photogenic all the time.”
“Do you think so?” he asked.
You blink. “Of course.”
He broke into the tiniest smirk. “Good. That’s all that matters.”
You lightly hit his arm. “When did you get so confident?”
“I’m not,” he admitted honestly. “But if you like me, then maybe I can believe in myself a little more.”
Your heart warmed at that—because it was so him. Soft-hearted. Quietly affectionate. Deeply sincere without trying.
There was something about nights like this—dim lights, empty streets, soft conversations—that made everything feel fragile and safe at the same time. Like the world had paused just for the two of you.
Jungwon lowered his head slightly, staring at your interlocked hands.
“I’m happy,” he murmured. “Right now… I’m really, really happy.”
You smiled. “Me too.”
“And I don’t want this night to end.”
“It doesn’t have to,” you say. “We can stay out longer.”
He shook his head lightly.
“No, I mean…” He paused, searching for the right words. “…I don’t want us to end.”
Your breath caught.
He squeezed your hand, looking at you with steady, earnest eyes.
“I know the world sees me as an idol. Busy. Hard to reach. Hard to love.” He swallowed.
“But with you… I feel like I’m just Jungwon. And I’m scared of losing that. Of losing you.”
You placed your other hand atop his, holding him carefully, as if he was something precious.
“You won’t lose me,” you promised softly. “Not unless you tell me to go.”
“I’d never.” He shook his head vehemently. “Never.”
“Then you’re stuck with me,” you said jokingly.
He let out a breathy laugh, one that melted into something warm and grateful.
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
---
By the time the night grew deeper, the world had gone quiet.
Jungwon tugged you closer, wrapping an arm loosely around your shoulders as the two of you walked slowly back toward the hotel.
At one point, he leaned his head gently on top of yours.
“You’re my home,” he whispered, almost too softly to hear.
You smiled into the darkness.
“And you’re mine.”
In the glow of streetlamps, under a sky full of quiet stars, you continued your slow, unhurried walk—two hearts beating in sync, two souls in their own peaceful universe.
And for the first time in a long time, Jungwon looked like he wasn’t carrying the weight of the world.
pairing — Tws!Shinyu × Fem!Reader
(ft. The other Tws members)
genre — Fluff | Romance | Birthday Surprise
word count — (1.3k)
warning — Pure fluff, mentions of surprise planning and lots of soft moments. This is a work of fiction, let's read responsibly & separate fiction from reality.
a/n — belated happy birthday Yuya!🫶🏻🎉
November 7 — the day the world gained its brightest star.
At least, that’s what you liked to tell Shinyu whenever his birthday came around. And every year for the past three years, you’d made sure he celebrated surrounded by warmth, laughter, and love — but this year, you wanted to outdo yourself.
This year, you had help.
“Are you sure he won’t find out?” you whispered as Dohoon adjusted the string lights hanging across the practice room ceiling. The lights twinkled like stars, casting soft gold hues against the walls.
Dohoon grinned. “Trust me, no one’s better at distractions than Youngjae.”
“Yeah,” Jihoon chuckled from behind you as he set up a small projector, “he’s been stalling Shinyu for an hour now. Said something about ‘urgent filming practice’.”
You giggled. “That sounds exactly like something Youngjae would do.”
Kyungmin peeked out from behind a pile of balloons. “(Y/N)-noona, I finished the last letter banner! It says ‘Happy 23rd, Our Star!’ ”
Your heart melted. “That’s perfect, Kyungmin-ah. Thank you.”
Hanjin, who’d been busy cueing up a playlist, clapped his hands. “Okay, team — lights ready, gifts in place, cake on standby. Operation ‘Make Shinyu Cry’ is a go.”
Everyone laughed, but your smile softened. You didn’t want him to cry, really — you just wanted him to feel seen. For all the hard work, the long nights, and the pressure he hid behind smiles.
He told you once, in a quiet moment at the dorm balcony, “Sometimes it’s hard to remember to celebrate myself.”
That sentence had stayed with you ever since.
So tonight, you were going to make sure he did.
---
The moment the door opened, the lights dimmed.
“HYUNG! Come in already!” Jihoon’s voice echoed.
Shinyu stepped inside cautiously, wearing his favorite navy hoodie and a confused expression. “Why is it so dark in here—”
“SURPRISE!!!”
The lights burst to life. Confetti exploded midair. The room is filled with cheers, laughter, and the scent of vanilla frosting.
Shinyu blinked, utterly stunned as he took in the decorations — fairy lights twinkling across the ceiling, his name in glittering letters, photos of memories from debut days to now plastered on the wall.
And right in the center, you stood, holding a cake lit with glowing candles.
“Happy birthday, my love,” you said softly.
For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, his lips curved into the most beautiful, boyish smile — the one that made your chest ache every time.
He crossed the room in quick strides, eyes never leaving yours, until he was standing right in front of you. “You… did all this?”
You nodded, cheeks warming. “With a little help from your brothers.”
Dohoon smirked. “Hey, don’t forget who almost broke his neck hanging those lights.”
Kyungmin laughed. “And who almost popped all the balloons.”
Youngjae came running in, panting. “AND who had to stall him by pretending we forgot his birthday!”
That made everyone burst out laughing — except Shinyu, who looked absolutely horrified.
“You what?” he asked.
Youngjae shrugged. “Sorry, hyung. It was for the greater good.”
Shinyu groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I actually believed you all forgot…”
You reached up, gently tugging his hand away. “But we didn’t. Not for a second.”
He looked down at you then — eyes soft, voice low. “You’re really unbelievable.”
You smiled. “Make a wish, birthday boy.”
---
He closed his eyes as you held the cake closer. The candles flickered against his face, painting golden light over his sharp jaw and soft lashes.
The room went quiet, save for the hum of the air conditioner and the faint melody of his favorite song playing in the background.
When he finally opened his eyes again, you could see the glimmer of emotion there. He leaned forward, blowing out the candles in one breath.
Everyone cheered. Hanjin popped another confetti cannon, and Kyungmin began clapping off-beat, laughing too hard to care.
But Shinyu’s gaze stayed on you.
You smiled, stepping closer to hand him the small box you’d been hiding behind your back. “This one’s just from me.”
He looked curious as he took it, the corner of his lips lifting. “Should I be nervous?”
“Maybe,” you teased.
He opened it — and froze.
Inside lay a small silver necklace, simple but elegant, with a pendant shaped like a tiny constellation.
“The constellation is Lyra,” you said quietly. “It’s brightest in November — just like you.”
He stared at it for a moment, thumb brushing over the charm. Then his voice came out husky. “You remembered that story.”
You nodded, smiling. “Of course. You told me it was the first constellation you learned as a kid, because it meant music and love.”
He swallowed hard.
“It’s beautiful,” he said softly. “But… you’re sure I’m the one who’s supposed to shine tonight?”
You blinked. “What do you mean?”
He took your hand in his, the necklace glinting between you. “Because the only thing I see shining right now is you.”
You flushed, the boys behind you groaning.
“Ugh, hyung, not in front of us!” Jihoon whined.
Hanjin snickered. “Get a room.”
Dohoon grinned. “Let them have their moment. It’s his birthday.”
Shinyu just laughed, the sound rich and genuine, before gently clasping the necklace around his neck. Then he turned back to you, his expression softening again.
“Thank you,” he said simply.
You tilted your head. “For what?”
“For everything. For being here — for staying with me even when things got hard.” He paused, eyes searching yours. “Three years, and you still make me feel like I’m the luckiest person alive.”
Your heart fluttered. “You are,” you said, whispering the words only for him. “Because you have all of us. And me.”
He smiled — that quiet, heartfelt smile you loved the most — and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Happy Shinyu Day,” you murmured.
“Best birthday ever,” he replied, arms wrapping around you as the boys cheered — and dramatically gagged — in the background.
---
Later that night…
The celebration eventually wound down, the members heading back to their dorm rooms one by one. The lights dimmed, the music softened, and you and Shinyu found yourselves sitting side by side on the floor, surrounded by the remnants of confetti and laughter.
He leaned back on his hands, looking up at the fake stars still glowing above. “You know,” he said softly, “sometimes I wish I could freeze moments like this.”
You rested your head on his shoulder. “Then let’s just remember them — the small ones, the quiet ones. The ones that feel like home.”
He turned to look at you, eyes tender. “You really are my home, (Y/N).”
You smiled, intertwining your fingers with his. “And you’re my sky.”
He chuckled at that, shaking his head. “So cheesy.”
“Maybe,” you said with a grin, “but it’s true.”
Silence settled between you — comfortable, familiar. Then Shinyu pulled something from his hoodie pocket.
It was a folded piece of paper, slightly crumpled.
“I was supposed to give this to you later,” he said, handing it over. “But… now it feels right.”
You opened it — and inside was a small doodle of a constellation, the same one from the necklace. Beneath it, in neat handwriting, were the words:
> “To my brightest star — thank you for orbiting my heart.”
Your throat tightened as you looked up at him, eyes glassy. “You’re going to make me cry.”
He smiled, reaching out to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. “Good. Now we’re even.”
You laughed through the emotion. “I love you, Yuya.”
He smiled softly, eyes crinkling. “I love you more.”
Outside, the city lights glowed faintly — a constellation of their own. But inside that quiet room, beneath the string lights and memories, you knew that this was the moment he’d never forget.
Because for Shinyu, this wasn’t just a birthday.
It was a reminder that no matter how far his star shone — he’d always have someone looking up, smiling, and calling him home.
