❝ 𝐑𝐔𝐍 ❞ ๋࣭⭑ ◌ ゛ hope is a dangerous flame ── too brightˏ and it burns you; too dimˏ and the darkness consumes.
概要ˏ you do not know why fate has pulled you toward him again, only that the memory of a boy’s hollow eyes in the dead of winter still lingers within you. riki nishimura has long since shed the fragile shell of a starving child, hardened into a shadow of survival—cold, unyielding, and marked by loss that carved him into something far older than sixteen. you have lived in a quieter kind of suffering, watching life slip away beneath your parents’ hands, learning too young that even miracles run dry. now, bound together by a reaping that feels more like a death sentence than destiny, you stand side by side in silence, recognition passing like a fleeting spark between you. the arena waits, merciless and unrelenting, a place where memory and mercy are luxuries neither of you can afford. whether you face it as enemies or something far more complicated, only one truth remains certain: in the capitol, the arena, survival has never come without sacrifice.
×ˏ tribute!nishimura riki × fem tribute!reader › taglist open !
the airport is crowded—luggage wheels scraping across tile, airport announcements echoing off the high ceiling, flashes from cameras somewhere behind security—but all of it blurs when your eyes catch his.
sunoo stands a few feet past arrivals, masked and hooded, but somehow still shining like the bright sun despite the dark sky above glistening with their own bright stars. even with the disguise, you’d recognize him from a mile away; the way he shifts his weight from foot to foot, the way his fingers tug nervously at the strap of his bag.
the second his gaze lifts and finds you, his whole body softens—eyes curving, a smile hidden beneath the mask but unmistakably there.
you don’t think twice. you run.
the world becomes background noise as you throw your arms around him. he stumbles back a little, laughing, muffled and breathless.
“you’re insane,” he murmurs, voice warm against your hair, “but i missed you so much.”
“it’s only been two weeks,” you mumble, though your voice shakes with a laugh.
“two very long weeks,” he corrects, pulling back just enough to pinch your cheek before taking your hand and guiding you toward the exit.
the california air greets you with sunshine and noise, but his hand is steady, his thumb brushing against your palm as he leads you to the van waiting outside—one assigned for the members transportation during tour.
inside, it’s quiet. tinted windows, a soft hum of the AC, his cologne still clinging to the seats from earlier. you slide in beside him, and before you can even buckle up, his arms are around you again.
the first kiss is quick, more like a reminder. the second lingers, sweet and slow—like a silent apology for time lost. you melt into him, tracing invisible shapes on his sleeve.
“sunoo…” you whisper, guilt slipping through the quiet. “you didn’t have to buy my ticket. i feel bad, it was so expensive and i could have bought it—”
he doesn’t let you finish. he shakes his head, smiling in that soft, matter-of-fact way that always makes your heart twist.
“don’t,” he says gently. “you’re here. that’s all i wanted.”
“but—“
“no buts.” his tone is light but sure. “i spend money on things that make me happy. you just happen to be the most expensive one.”
you laugh, trying to hide how red your face gets, and he kisses your cheek once, then again—like he’s rewarding himself for making you smile.
he leans back, fingers laced with yours, eyes half-lidded from the long flight. “next time,” he murmurs, “maybe you buy me the ticket.”
“deal,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his.
the van hums to life, pulling away from the terminal. outside, los angeles sprawls in color and light, but inside, everything feels still—just the two of you, lost somewhere between jet lag and love.
𝗯𝗼𝗻𝘂𝘀: 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗋．
back at the hotel, the city hums softly outside the window—distant traffic, the faint echo of music from somewhere below. the room he booked just for the two of you feels like a secret world tucked away from everything else.
you’re lying in bed, holding his hoodie sleeves when sunoo suddenly perks up, eyes bright. “oh—wait, i almost forgot.”
he rummages through his bag for a second before turning back to you, a small velvet box in hand.
“what’s this?” you ask, blinking as he opens it.
inside rests a delicate gold necklace, the charm shaped into soft script that reads “fly to me.”
“because you did, fly to me,” he says with a shy grin, voice a little quieter now. “and… because no matter where we are, you can always come back to me.”
your heart squeezes—impossibly soft, a bit overwhelmed—as he fastens it around your neck.
“it’s perfect,” you whisper.
sunoo leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the pendant, then to your lips. “no,” he murmurs with that enchanting sunshine smile of his. “you are.”
hellooo can i request idol sunoo buying gf airplane tickets out of nowhere whenever he misses her so that they can spend time together in wherever country he is 🥹 + personally if i were the gf id be slightly guilty/uncomy he’ll spend money like that but sunoo always reassures her
i wanted to try requesting because his latest weverse post is so boyfriend coded huhuhuhuhuhu https://x.com/silentstarsnk2/status/1984919961316544557?s=46
heeseung was never the type to say much when he was nervous. you could always tell by the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve, the way his eyes darted between your lips and the ground.
tonight was no different—except for the bouquet hidden behind his back.
“what’s this?” you asked, tilting your head when he kept shifting his weight from one foot to another.
“uh—nothing,” he said too quickly, then sighed and finally brought it out. “okay, fine. it’s for you.”
you blinked, stunned. “flowers?”
he nodded, cheeks faintly pink. “i passed by this shop and thought of you. but now that i’m actually giving them to you, it feels kinda stupid.”
you smiled, stepping closer to take them from his hand. “it’s not stupid, hee. it’s sweet.”
his shoulders relaxed at your words, lips curving just slightly. you could see his heartbeat in the way his throat bobbed.
“good,” he murmured, scratching his neck. “’cause my hands were shaking the whole walk here.”
𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗰𝘂𝘁!
𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀．𝟣𝟧𝟫．
you’re standing in jay’s kitchen, sleeves rolled up and wooden spoon in hand, pretending not to notice how many times he’s dropped things in the past ten minutes.
he swears he’s fine—but his hands tell a different story. he’s tried to crack an egg three times now. the first one broke too hard, the second slipped right out of his hand, and the third… well, that one’s on the floor.
“by… making scrambled eggs on the counter?” you tease, pointing to the yolk he missed with a paper towel.
he groans softly, running a hand through his hair. “you’re really not helping, you know.”
you grin, leaning closer to peek into the bowl he’s whisking. “you get nervous that easily?”
he looks at you for a second too long, spoon slowing in the bowl, and then his voice drops—quiet but honest. “only when you’re watching.”
𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇． 𝟣𝟧𝟥．
jake is staring. again. he’s supposed to be helping you study, but for the past fifteen minutes, he’s been pretending to read the same sentence in the textbook while sneaking glances your way.
“jake,” you say, not looking up from your notes. “you’re doing that thing again.”
he blinks, clearly caught. “what thing?”
“that thing where you act like you’re totally focused, but your page hasn’t moved since like—forever.”
his ears instantly turn pink. “i- i was just… making sure you were keeping up.”
you raise an eyebrow. “uh-huh. totally.”
he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “okay, maybe i was a little distracted.”
you finally look up, resting your chin on your hand. “by what?”
he freezes. his brain clearly starts buffering, trying to come up with a convincing excuse. “uhm…by the light! yeah, the lighting in here makes my head pound.”
you glance around at the most average lighting imaginable and try not to laugh. “right. your head.”
𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇．𝟣𝟧𝟨．
it’s almost golden hour when you catch him looking. the light filters through the amber leaves, soft and syrupy, and sunghoon’s camera hangs forgotten around his neck. you tilt your head, pretending not to notice the way he quickly turns back to his viewfinder, fumbling with the lens like it’s suddenly foreign.
“you’re not even taking pictures,” you tease, stepping closer until your shadow falls across his hands.
“i—i was adjusting the focus,” he says, voice a little too quick, a little too high.
you grin. “sure you were.”
his cheeks are pink, matching the faint blush of the sunset sky. you lift your own camera, snapping a photo before he can hide behind his again.
click.
“what was that for?” he asks, still flustered.
“you looked nice in the light,” you say simply.
sunghoon swallows hard, trying to hide his smile. the shutter of his camera clicks right after yours.
“you did too,” he murmurs, barely loud enough for the wind to catch it.
𝗄𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗈𝗈．𝟣𝟧𝟦．
sunoo sits cross-legged across from you, his tongue poking out just a little as he concentrates on painting your nails. the soft hum of your playlist fills the room, mixed with the quiet rustle of blankets and the faint scent of your shared midnight snacks.
“hold still,” he says, brows furrowed in focus. his hand brushes yours, and he freezes like he’s touched something electric.
you laugh softly. “you’re shaking more than i am.”
“am not,” he protests, though his voice cracks halfway through. you tilt your head, smiling as he carefully swipes a pale pink across your nail, his fingers trembling just a little.
“you’re really good at this,” you say, watching the tips of his ears turn pink.
“i just like making things look pretty,” he mumbles, eyes glued to your hand.
you grin. “is that why you keep staring?”
his brush slips—just barely—but he still gasps like it’s a disaster. “y/n! now i have to redo that one!”
𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇．𝟤𝟧𝟤．
the bell above the door chimes softly when you step inside, and jungwon’s head snaps up from where he’s crouched beside a fluffy calico.
“welcome in—” his voice catches halfway through the greeting. you’re here again.
he stands up too fast, bumping the low table behind him with his knee. the small ceramic saucer rattles, nearly tipping over, and his face goes pink as he scrambles to steady it.
“hi,” you say, smiling, the kind that makes him forget what air feels like.
“h-hi,” he manages, tugging on the strings of his apron. “uh—your usual?”
you nod, glancing toward the same corner seat you always take, the one right by the window. jungwon follows your gaze, pretending it’s a coincidence when he wipes down that table every few minutes before you come in.
while you wait, a tabby hops into your lap, curling up instantly. jungwon watches from behind the counter, pretending to check the espresso machine but really just watching how carefully you stroke the cat’s fur.
“here you go,” he says when he brings your drink over, setting it down with both hands so he doesn’t spill anything this time.
your fingers brush his when you take the cup. he freezes.
you look up at him, eyes curious. “you’re always so careful with my order.”
his heart stumbles. “yeah, um… i-i like cats,” he blurts out, which doesn’t make sense even to him.
you laugh, soft and bright. “me too.”
jungwon can’t stop smiling for the rest of his shift—he even forgets to charge you for the extra shot of vanilla syrup.
𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝗋𝗂𝗄𝗂．𝟤𝟢𝟩．
you’re sitting on the rooftop during lunch, legs swinging over the edge, the wind brushing your hair into soft little waves. riki shows up late—again—with his backpack hanging off one shoulder and that awkward half-smile he only does when he’s trying not to look flustered.
“hey,” he says, voice a little too quiet, like the word almost got lost on the way out.
you look up at him and grin, “you’re late. again.”
he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah, i, uh… had to—” he pauses, searching for an excuse that doesn’t sound as ridiculous as ‘i was practicing how to say hi to you in the mirror.’
“had to what?” you tease, tilting your head.
his ears turn pink. “nothing. just… forgot the time.”
you pat the spot next to you, and he sits down carefully, leaving just enough space to seem casual—but not enough to hide how stiff his shoulders are. you start talking about some random movie, and he tries to keep up, nodding along, though his brain’s just white noise and heartbeats.
you laugh at something he says—really laugh—and he swears he’s going to remember that sound forever.
he doesn’t even realize he’s smiling until you nudge his arm.
“you’re weird, riki.”
“yeah,” he mumbles, eyes darting away, “only around you.”
he’s so gentle, it hurts. he sits quietly and let’s you cry in his hoodie, running his hand over your shoulder, even if every little sob is breaking his heart into a million pieces.
every time you say something about not being enough, his jaw tightens— how could anyone not see what he sees?
he cups your face and meets your teary eyes, almost swearing to himself to never let you cry like this again. “you didn’t do anything wrong, okay? he was stupid enough to not stay,”
and a hundred more reassurances follow, each one punctuated by a subtle kiss on the top of your head that he swears are platonic, but who is he fooling?
when you fall asleep on his lap, he wipes a stray tear off your cheek. “if it were me, i’d never let you go,”
he ends up confessing, knowing you’re asleep, because he knows that’s the only time he can bring himself to say it.
PARK JONGSEONG
he’s trying to keep it together— calm on the outside, seething on the inside. if your ex showed up in front of you, jay is sure he’d kill the guy with his bare hands.
he drops everything and takes you for a drive just to clear your head, windows down and sunlight bouncing off your skin in a way that makes him hard to focus on the road ahead.
his hand occasionally brushes against yours on the gearshift and jay loses his mind, hoping you don’t notice his ears turning red.
“he didn’t deserve you. not even close,” he mumbles when you go quiet, not wanting you to blame yourself while you’ve been nothing but perfect.
you chuckle dryly, blinking away the tears. “i always pick the wrong people,”
and he goes quiet for a long time, just wanting to pull over and hug you while you talk all about your shitty ex and he would so lovingly tell you how he didn’t deserve you.
“maybe the right one’s been next to you the whole time,” he says softly and then immediately turns the volume up out of panic, so you don’t hear how hard his heart is pounding.
SIM JAEYUN
he is heartbreakingly soft, bringing you a blanket, snacks, everything you like without you even asking. his fingers run through your hair ever so gently while he tells how your precious tears shouldn’t be wasted on your ex.
he is bad at this, really— tries to crack little jokes just to hear you laugh, but his smile falters every time you tear up again.
even his hands are shaking, and there’s a crack in his voice when you ask if you’re hard to love, because you couldn’t be further away from the truth.
“don’t say that. you’re the easiest person in the world to love,” and i know that because i have been loving you for a very long time, he wants to add but holds himself back.
jake hugs you again, half to hide his own glassy eyes and half to convey all the feelings he cannot put into words.
and when you thank him for being such a good friend, his heart breaks a little more because even if he wants to be more, a friend is all he will ever be.
PARK SUNGHOON
he doesn’t know how to comfort at first, terrified he would end up saying the wrong thing and make it worse.
but he sits beside you in silence, letting you talk. sniffles interrupt your words and his hand subtly finds yours— the gentle yet firm grip grounding both you and him.
“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to cry,” when you let go of his hand to wipe your tears, he instead grabs a tissue and does it himself, once again reaching out for your hand, hoping you wouldn’t let go this time.
his love shows in the smallest things— tissues ready before you ask, making sure you drink water, and a hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.
“why can’t someone just stay?” you ask later with a sigh, looking up at him.
and he whispers a little above the silence, meeting your eyes. “i would,”
KIM SUNOO
he brings you into his arms the second he sees your face, no questions asked. he is calm at first, but the moment he sees your tears, he panics internally.
he lets you talk while he fingers twitch to hold your hands— he doesn’t want to cross boundaries or do the wrong thing and overwhelm you.
“i feel so stupid,” you sigh, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.
and he finally reaches out and puts his hands above yours. “don’t. he is the stupid one for not seeing how amazing your are,”
he lets you cry in his arms, thumb always staying on your cheek longer than it should, eyes flicking down to your lips for just a second before he pulls back.
and when you start dozing off, he mumbles, hoping someday he could tell you this while you’re awake. “if you let me, i’d never stop loving you right,”
YANG JUNGWON
he’s calm and patient. no advices— he lets you cry as much as you want. he feels your pain like it’s his own, because it is. because seeing tears rolling down your face feels like being stabbed in the chest a hundred times.
“come here,” his arms wrap around you in a hug that lingers a little too long, chin resting on your head.
when you tell him how much it hurts, he hugs you a little tighter, feeling the ache in his chest grow ten-fold. he lets you cling to him, gently patting your back to give you even an ounce of comfort.
he stays next to you for as long as you need him to, and when you finally laugh at something small, he smiles— soft and fond. “there she is,”
your eyes are tired but warm when they meet his, and he looks away before giving himself away completely.
NISHIMURA RIKI
he is pissed, immediately wanting to punch that guy in the face. “his loss for dumping you. what a fucking idiot,”
it’s a small attempt at making you feel better, but when he sees your red eyes and quivering lips, he immediately softens— and you’re wrapped in his arms the next second.
“it’s okay,” he whispers, playing with your hair. “you’re going to be okay,”
he mumbles sweet nothings in your ear, while also making sure to curse out your ex— he just hopes he can see you laugh, even a little smile would ease his heart.
“you’re so sweet to me,” you mutter into his chest and he freezes, feeling his heart thump against his chest.
“only for you,” and when you pull away, his ears are red and his smile is all nerves— all because you will never know what that little line really means to him.
heeseung was never the type to say much when he was nervous. you could always tell by the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve, the way his eyes darted between your lips and the ground.
tonight was no different—except for the bouquet hidden behind his back.
“what’s this?” you asked, tilting your head when he kept shifting his weight from one foot to another.
“uh—nothing,” he said too quickly, then sighed and finally brought it out. “okay, fine. it’s for you.”
you blinked, stunned. “flowers?”
he nodded, cheeks faintly pink. “i passed by this shop and thought of you. but now that i’m actually giving them to you, it feels kinda stupid.”
you smiled, stepping closer to take them from his hand. “it’s not stupid, hee. it’s sweet.”
his shoulders relaxed at your words, lips curving just slightly. you could see his heartbeat in the way his throat bobbed.
“good,” he murmured, scratching his neck. “’cause my hands were shaking the whole walk here.”
𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗰𝘂𝘁!
𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀．𝟣𝟧𝟫．
you’re standing in jay’s kitchen, sleeves rolled up and wooden spoon in hand, pretending not to notice how many times he’s dropped things in the past ten minutes.
he swears he’s fine—but his hands tell a different story. he’s tried to crack an egg three times now. the first one broke too hard, the second slipped right out of his hand, and the third… well, that one’s on the floor.
“by… making scrambled eggs on the counter?” you tease, pointing to the yolk he missed with a paper towel.
he groans softly, running a hand through his hair. “you’re really not helping, you know.”
you grin, leaning closer to peek into the bowl he’s whisking. “you get nervous that easily?”
he looks at you for a second too long, spoon slowing in the bowl, and then his voice drops—quiet but honest. “only when you’re watching.”
𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇． 𝟣𝟧𝟥．
jake is staring. again. he’s supposed to be helping you study, but for the past fifteen minutes, he’s been pretending to read the same sentence in the textbook while sneaking glances your way.
“jake,” you say, not looking up from your notes. “you’re doing that thing again.”
he blinks, clearly caught. “what thing?”
“that thing where you act like you’re totally focused, but your page hasn’t moved since like—forever.”
his ears instantly turn pink. “i- i was just… making sure you were keeping up.”
you raise an eyebrow. “uh-huh. totally.”
he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “okay, maybe i was a little distracted.”
you finally look up, resting your chin on your hand. “by what?”
he freezes. his brain clearly starts buffering, trying to come up with a convincing excuse. “uhm…by the light! yeah, the lighting in here makes my head pound.”
you glance around at the most average lighting imaginable and try not to laugh. “right. your head.”
𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇．𝟣𝟧𝟨．
it’s almost golden hour when you catch him looking. the light filters through the amber leaves, soft and syrupy, and sunghoon’s camera hangs forgotten around his neck. you tilt your head, pretending not to notice the way he quickly turns back to his viewfinder, fumbling with the lens like it’s suddenly foreign.
“you’re not even taking pictures,” you tease, stepping closer until your shadow falls across his hands.
“i—i was adjusting the focus,” he says, voice a little too quick, a little too high.
you grin. “sure you were.”
his cheeks are pink, matching the faint blush of the sunset sky. you lift your own camera, snapping a photo before he can hide behind his again.
click.
“what was that for?” he asks, still flustered.
“you looked nice in the light,” you say simply.
sunghoon swallows hard, trying to hide his smile. the shutter of his camera clicks right after yours.
“you did too,” he murmurs, barely loud enough for the wind to catch it.
𝗄𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗈𝗈．𝟣𝟧𝟦．
sunoo sits cross-legged across from you, his tongue poking out just a little as he concentrates on painting your nails. the soft hum of your playlist fills the room, mixed with the quiet rustle of blankets and the faint scent of your shared midnight snacks.
“hold still,” he says, brows furrowed in focus. his hand brushes yours, and he freezes like he’s touched something electric.
you laugh softly. “you’re shaking more than i am.”
“am not,” he protests, though his voice cracks halfway through. you tilt your head, smiling as he carefully swipes a pale pink across your nail, his fingers trembling just a little.
“you’re really good at this,” you say, watching the tips of his ears turn pink.
“i just like making things look pretty,” he mumbles, eyes glued to your hand.
you grin. “is that why you keep staring?”
his brush slips—just barely—but he still gasps like it’s a disaster. “y/n! now i have to redo that one!”
𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇．𝟤𝟧𝟤．
the bell above the door chimes softly when you step inside, and jungwon’s head snaps up from where he’s crouched beside a fluffy calico.
“welcome in—” his voice catches halfway through the greeting. you’re here again.
he stands up too fast, bumping the low table behind him with his knee. the small ceramic saucer rattles, nearly tipping over, and his face goes pink as he scrambles to steady it.
“hi,” you say, smiling, the kind that makes him forget what air feels like.
“h-hi,” he manages, tugging on the strings of his apron. “uh—your usual?”
you nod, glancing toward the same corner seat you always take, the one right by the window. jungwon follows your gaze, pretending it’s a coincidence when he wipes down that table every few minutes before you come in.
while you wait, a tabby hops into your lap, curling up instantly. jungwon watches from behind the counter, pretending to check the espresso machine but really just watching how carefully you stroke the cat’s fur.
“here you go,” he says when he brings your drink over, setting it down with both hands so he doesn’t spill anything this time.
your fingers brush his when you take the cup. he freezes.
you look up at him, eyes curious. “you’re always so careful with my order.”
his heart stumbles. “yeah, um… i-i like cats,” he blurts out, which doesn’t make sense even to him.
you laugh, soft and bright. “me too.”
jungwon can’t stop smiling for the rest of his shift—he even forgets to charge you for the extra shot of vanilla syrup.
𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝗋𝗂𝗄𝗂．𝟤𝟢𝟩．
you’re sitting on the rooftop during lunch, legs swinging over the edge, the wind brushing your hair into soft little waves. riki shows up late—again—with his backpack hanging off one shoulder and that awkward half-smile he only does when he’s trying not to look flustered.
“hey,” he says, voice a little too quiet, like the word almost got lost on the way out.
you look up at him and grin, “you’re late. again.”
he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah, i, uh… had to—” he pauses, searching for an excuse that doesn’t sound as ridiculous as ‘i was practicing how to say hi to you in the mirror.’
“had to what?” you tease, tilting your head.
his ears turn pink. “nothing. just… forgot the time.”
you pat the spot next to you, and he sits down carefully, leaving just enough space to seem casual—but not enough to hide how stiff his shoulders are. you start talking about some random movie, and he tries to keep up, nodding along, though his brain’s just white noise and heartbeats.
you laugh at something he says—really laugh—and he swears he’s going to remember that sound forever.
he doesn’t even realize he’s smiling until you nudge his arm.
“you’re weird, riki.”
“yeah,” he mumbles, eyes darting away, “only around you.”
“you’re staring at me again,” you mumble, breath catching a little when your gaze flicks up to his.
jungwon’s sitting on the couch, legs lazily spread, dark hoodie loose on his frame. his eyes are red at the edges tonight, glinting against the dim yellow light of the living room. you’re not sure when you got used to it, to having a vampire as a roommate.
maybe it was the way he never made noise when walking, or how the house always felt a little colder after sundown. or maybe, it was him. jungwon.
his lips twitch into a soft smirk, the kind that both makes your heart flutter and crawl. “you make it hard not to stare,” he murmurs, voice low.
you roll your eyes but the heat blooms in your cheeks anyway. “creep.”
he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and the movement makes the air shift. jungwon has this way of looking at you, like he’s memorizing the way you breathe. “you like it,” he whispers.
and maybe you do. maybe you’re insane for letting a vampire live with you. maybe you’re even more insane for letting him stand this close, for noticing how his fangs peek out when he talks, for realizing just how soft his mouth looks tonight.
you shift your weight from one foot to the other, heart thudding loud in the quiet room.
“you’re doing it again,” you mutter.
jungwon tilts his head, slow, amused. “what?”
“that stupid— staring thing.”
he laughs softly, the sound low and warm. “can’t help it.” he stands, movements too graceful, too quiet. your breath stumbles. he’s in front of you before you can even blink.
his hand finds your jaw gently, thumb pressing against your skin. your pulse jumps under his touch.
“you’re warm,” he says softly, like it’s something he shouldn’t be allowed to say. like it’s a secret.
you swallow. “and you’re cold,” you whisper back.
he smiles. “guess we fit.”
it happens slow but fast—your eyes meet, your breath tangles with his, and his nose brushes yours. your fingers curl against his hoodie, clutching. the softest inhale escapes you when his lips finally press against yours.
jungwon kisses the way he moves—quiet, precise, deliberate. it’s slow at first, warm against cold, the contrast making every second sharper. his hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair.
you tilt your head slightly and the kiss deepens. he pulls you closer, and the world folds into just this—his mouth, his breath, his heartbeat you can’t hear but can feel under your palms.
a soft sound escapes you, and something flickers behind his closed eyes.
hunger. need. it’s not dangerous, not right now, but it’s there. jungwon’s control has always been clean and quiet .. but tonight, something slips.
his fangs graze your lower lip.
a sting.
you jerk softly, a gasp catching in your throat as warmth spreads against his cold mouth. he freezes immediately. your lips part, and your finger brushes the tiny spot that’s wet and metallic.
blood. red and warm.
jungwon’s eyes snap open, red flaring bright like embers. “shit,” he breathes out, voice rougher now. his hand jerks back, like touching you might burn. “i—fuck, i didn’t mean to—”
you’re still dizzy from the kiss, from the way his lips fit so perfectly. the copper taste tingles, sharp.
“hey,” you whisper, touching his wrist before he can pull away completely.
his jaw tightens. his throat works like swallowing hurts. “y/n,” he mutters, low and strained. “i can smell it. i need to step back.”
you don’t let go. your heartbeat drums wild in your ears but not from fear. “jungwon,” you whisper softly, tilting your chin up. “i trust you.”
his chest rises and falls, and god, he looks beautiful in this messed-up way—eyes glowing, lips stained with the faintest smear of your blood. his fangs peek out, a reminder of what he is. but his hands shake, holding himself back from hurting you more.
“you shouldn’t,” he rasps, voice breaking at the edges.
you smile faintly, blood still warm against your lip. “maybe i should.”
jungwon curses under his breath, eyes squeezing shut as if that might make the scent disappear. he leans his forehead against yours, cold skin pressing to your warmth, his breath trembling.
“you have no idea how hard it is to control it when it’s you.”
your fingers slide up, cupping his jaw gently, and that pulls a sharp inhale from him.
“then just kiss me,” you whisper.
jungwon’s breath shudders against your mouth. slowly, carefully, he presses his lips to the corner of yours again—softer this time, slower. his thumb wipes at the tiny drop of blood, then he leans in, kissing away the mess he caused.
it’s feather-light, careful, like he’s scared to break you.
“sorry,” he mumbles against your skin.
“you bit me,” you tease softly, smile ghosting over his mouth.
“you taste too good,” he whispers before he can stop himself, voice low and warm and dangerous.
your breath catches. the silence stretches—thick, heavy, sweet.
his hand comes to rest at the back of your neck again, a little firmer now, and when he kisses you this time, it’s slower, hungrier but controlled. you melt against him, body fitting into his cold frame like you were meant to.
the metallic taste lingers, but so does the warmth.
jungwon’s fangs barely graze your lip again, but this time he doesn’t break skin. this time, it’s just a reminder of who he is and how careful he can be when it’s you.
you don’t pull away. you lean in closer.
his laugh vibrates against your mouth, soft and breathless. “you’re crazy,” he murmurs.
“you’re the vampire,” you whisper back.
he nips lightly at your bottom lip, not enough to hurt, just enough to make your knees weak.
“and you’re mine,” he says softly, voice more like a promise than a threat.
the night air slips in through the cracked window, cool against the heat of your skin. jungwon presses another soft kiss to your mouth, slower, sweeter. your heartbeat echoes in your ears, and the quiet thrill of danger hums beneath your skin. but it’s warm here, in his arms, at this moment.
and maybe, you don’t mind the fangs at all.
스루 ܃ can someone come up with a real vampire dating site ..
when you mess with your husband over his deep voice
𝐢𝒏𝐝𝐞𝒙 ✸ heeseung x fem! reader 0.6k fluff crack established relationship! au ୨୧ mentions of moaning??, cheating but nothing srs they have a baby :) based on that one tiktok trend
they were wrapped up in one of their low-light, post-chaos cuddles—legs tangled, her cheek resting on his chest, his fingers absently tracing the soft skin of her shoulder as he rambled on about something that happened at work. something about a client meeting gone sideways and how he had to fix it like always.
“…and then this guy—mid-presentation, mind you—just admits he forgot the deck, like. forgot. in front of everyone. so i had to stall for a good ten minutes until someone could email it to the screen, and baby, you would’ve died at how i had to start explaining Q3 numbers with literally no visual—”
yn blinked up at him, lashes brushing his chest. “mm-hmm.”
heeseung continued, “—so i was like, ‘as you can see—well, not yet—but imagine this graph—’”
she smirked slowly, her fingers drawing lazy circles on his abs. “hey, baby?”
heeseung paused, glancing down at her with a soft smile. “yeah?”
yn bit back a grin and casually said, “i read somewhere that men with deeper voices are more likely to cheat.”
heeseung blinked.
then blinked again.
“…what?”
“i read it,” she said, voice light and teasing. “some study. apparently, it has to do with testosterone levels or something. men with deep voices are statistically more likely to cheat on their partners.”
heeseung’s jaw dropped slightly. he stared at her like she’d just said the dumbest thing he’d ever heard—and he was trying to figure out if she was being serious or just trying to get under his skin.
“…you’re joking, right?”
she shrugged, biting back a smirk. “i dunno, hee. your voice is pretty deep. i mean, it’s one of the first things i noticed about you.”
heeseung scoffed. “okay, first of all—” he sat up a little, pulling her closer while narrowing his eyes in playful disbelief— “you think just because i sound like a radio host, i’ve got cheater vibes? baby, please.”
she giggled, crawling up to straddle his lap. “i mean… just something to think about.”
“oh my god.” he dropped his head back with a groan. “you totally made that up. you’re trying to mess with me.”
she leaned forward, whispering right by his ear. “you’re not denying that your voice is deep though.”
heeseung smirked, hands finding her waist instinctively. “i’m not denying that because you literally moan when i say your name in the morning, yn.”
her cheeks heated instantly. “that’s not the point.”
“that’s exactly the point.” he leaned in, nose brushing hers. “you like my deep voice. you’re obsessed with it. don’t try to science your way out of this.”
“i was just saying,” she said innocently, even as she wrapped her arms around his neck, “i’m watching you now.”
heeseung raised a brow. “is that a threat?”
“just a precaution.”
he grinned. “you think i would ever cheat? on the love of my life? the mother of my child? the woman who literally has me wrapped around her pinky toe? baby, please.”
yn grinned, proud of how riled up he got. “so you admit i’ve got you wrapped.”
“wrapped, tied, gift-boxed, engraved. my love, i’m yours even when i’m mad at you.”
she laughed, letting her head fall onto his shoulder, his arms wrapping around her like second nature.
“you’re so dramatic,” she murmured into his skin.
heeseung chuckled. “you started it.”
she smiled against his neck. “you love it.”
he tilted her face up, brushing a kiss against her lips. “i love you. voice theory and all.”
and in the background, a little sleepy whimper came through the baby monitor.
heeseung groaned. “okay, but if he’s got a deep voice too, i’m blaming your genetics next.”
yn burst out laughing.
nessie 🗯️ hiii sorry for disappearing for so long :( i've been busy with uni but i will try to post here and there, once a week if nothing! this is a little tiny little hee drabble from me to you, hope y'all liked it teehee
tag𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 drop a comment down or send me an ASK to be a part of my taglist <3
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