୨ৎ Your boyfriend returns from Coachella, exhausted, and snaps at you, quickly regretting it 💌 wc. 2043 - genre, fluff, slight angst
📝 what the fuck was enchella. I’m not sane after that shit
The airport was still buzzing, flashes from camera phones and the hum of tired conversations fading behind him as Sunghoon gave one last wave to his members.
“Text us when you’re settled,” Heeseung called out, already sliding into a black van.
Sunghoon just nodded, slinging his bag higher on his shoulder. His limbs ached from the flight, his hoodie felt suffocating in the spring heat, and his head throbbed with every sound. He didn’t even have the energy to pull out his mask as he stepped into the quiet car waiting for him. His driver asked if he wanted anything to eat. He just shook his head, eyes already fluttering closed against the window.
The drive home was a blur. Familiar city lights painted the sky, but Sunghoon could only think about the bed that had been calling his name for days. That, and you. He hadn’t seen you since before they left for California. The two of you had barely gotten used to living together—boxes still shoved in corners, bookshelves half-filled, your toothbrush resting beside his like it had always been there.
He missed you. He did. But right now, exhaustion gnawed at his bones, and the Coachella high had long since crashed into post-tour burnout.
The elevator dinged softly, and he stepped into the hallway of your apartment. The familiar scent of laundry detergent and that vanilla candle you were obsessed with welcomed him home more than anything else. His keys jangled as he pushed open the door quietly.
The living room was dark except for the flicker of the TV playing some random drama rerun. You were curled up on the couch, the oversized hoodie you wore practically swallowing you whole. Your mouth was slightly open, breaths even and soft.
Sunghoon sighed. You’d waited up.
He toed off his shoes with difficulty and set his bag down beside the door, stretching once before padding quietly into the kitchen for a glass of water. But before he could even fill it, a rustle from the couch caught his attention.
You shot up like a zombie resurrected by caffeine, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. “You’re home!”
He blinked. “Yeah…”
“I missed you so much.” You launched yourself off the couch before he could even process it, arms wrapping tightly around his middle. You buried your face in his chest, breathing him in like you were trying to memorize the scent of airport air and whatever cologne he’d used during the trip.
He stood there, frozen. His arms hung awkwardly at his sides, muscles stiff. But then, he relaxed, trying to push down the exhaustion and irritability that had built up over the past two weeks. He knew how sensitive you were, how you could feel the tiniest hint of his frustration. So, despite his body practically begging for rest, he smiled softly.
“I missed you too,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands hesitated for a moment before settling gently around your back, just enough to hold you without feeling overwhelmed. “It’s just… it’s been a long trip.”
You smiled against him, clearly not noticing the slight tension in his shoulders. “I’ve been watching all the fan edits. You looked so good, Sunghoon. Seriously.”
His smile faltered just a little as you continued talking, your words pouring out in a rush—how much you missed him, how great he looked in the videos, how the edits had made you wish you were there, and how you’d barely been able to sleep without him next to you.
“I—” Sunghoon’s words got caught in his throat for a second. He didn’t want to come off as rude. He didn’t want to hurt you. So, he just nodded, trying to keep his patience. His thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hoodie as he focused on keeping his emotions in check.
“Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice quieter now. He was smiling, but the exhaustion in his eyes was becoming harder to hide.
You pulled back slightly, still talking about how you couldn’t wait to catch up on everything, but Sunghoon’s head felt heavy, his body sluggish with the kind of tiredness that was almost painful. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep calm as your voice bubbled on, not realizing the way he was barely holding himself together.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate how much you cared, it was just… right now, it felt like too much. But he didn’t want to snap. Not when he knew how much you valued the little moments like this.
So, he smiled again, faintly, despite everything. “Let’s talk later, okay? I just… I really need to rest.”
And with that, he gently pulled away, walking past you toward the bedroom, trying to ignore the weight that pressed down on his chest.
You didn’t hear what Sunghoon had said, your excitement still buzzing in your chest as you bounced on your toes, waiting for him to react more to your rambling. When he moved past you toward the bedroom, you were still talking, eager to close the distance between you and him.
“Sunghoon, wait! I swear you looked so—”
You followed him into the room, heart racing with anticipation. “Hey, are you still tired? I just missed you so much. We can go get food or I can make something—whatever you want, I don’t care, I just want to be with you.”
You tried to sit next to him, but he was already sitting on the bed, rubbing his temples like he was trying to hold it all together. He hadn’t even taken off his jacket yet. You could feel the tension in the room—the kind of tension that made you nervous but also desperate to make everything right. You missed him, and you just wanted him to talk to you.
“Sunghoon?” you asked again, your voice softer this time as you sat beside him, nudging his arm with your elbow. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t look at you. He just stared at the floor, his lips pressed together in a thin line. You could tell he was holding something back, probably frustration from the long flight, but you couldn’t help yourself. You needed to talk to him. Needed him to see you.
“Sunghoon, are you mad at me? You’ve barely said anything, and—”
That was when he finally snapped.
“God, can you stop?!” he growled, his voice sharp, like a sudden burst of anger he could no longer contain. He jerked away from you, swearing under his breath. “I’m fucking tired. Why can’t you just give me a second to breathe?!”
His words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, all you could do was freeze, mouth open in shock. Sunghoon had never talked to you like that, never let his anger spill so suddenly.
He sat up straighter, hands gripping the bed, his knuckles white. His eyes, though tired, flashed with frustration.
“I just got off a plane after two weeks, and you won’t stop talking. It’s too much!” he spat, his voice cold and harsh, every word laced with irritation. “I don’t need this right now.”
You pulled back, confusion and hurt twisting in your stomach. You’d never seen him so on edge with you before. His words hung in the air, sharp and cutting, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d said something wrong. If you’d pushed him too far.
But Sunghoon didn’t apologize. Not yet. He just stared at you, waiting for your reaction, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to collect himself, his gaze hard.
It felt like the room was holding its breath, and you didn’t know whether to keep talking or give him space.
You sat there in stunned silence, your heart pounding in your chest. The air in the room suddenly felt thick, like there was no room left to breathe. Sunghoon hadn’t moved, his gaze still fixed on you, but he wasn’t looking at you like he usually did—not with warmth, not with that soft affection you were so used to. No, right now, his eyes were filled with something else.
Frustration.
You swallowed, trying to steady your breath, but the weight of his words hung heavy in the air between you. It was clear he was tired, but his snap… it hurt. It wasn’t like him.
“Sunghoon…” You whispered, your voice smaller than you intended. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I don’t care if you didn’t mean to,” he interrupted, his tone still biting. “I just want a damn break, okay? I haven’t had a moment to myself in weeks, and now you’re here, talking my ear off and acting like everything’s fine. It’s not. I’m not fine.”
You flinched. His words felt like a punch to the gut, and you could feel the sting of them deep in your chest. The part of you that wanted to defend yourself, to explain that you just missed him, was overwhelmed by the sudden rush of guilt. You hadn’t meant to make him snap, but you had.
He sighed, rubbing his face in frustration as he slumped back against the headboard, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“Just… just give me a minute. Please,” he said, voice softer now but still tinged with irritation. “I don’t want to yell at you, I don’t. But I need you to understand. I’m so fucking exhausted, and I don’t know how to say it without sounding like an asshole.”
You nodded slowly, biting the inside of your lip as you tried to fight back the tears that suddenly stung at the corners of your eyes. You didn’t want to cry. Not in front of him, not like this. But everything inside you felt… heavy. Overwhelmed. All you wanted was to be with him, to make up for the time lost while he was gone.
Instead, you felt like you were pushing him further away.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now. “I just… I missed you so much. I was excited you were finally home, but I guess I didn’t realize how tired you were.”
Sunghoon didn’t say anything for a long moment. He just sat there, eyes staring ahead as if he was lost in his thoughts. You felt the space between you both growing with every second that passed. His silence was suffocating, but you didn’t want to make it worse by saying the wrong thing.
Finally, he let out another sigh. This one wasn’t as harsh, though it was still filled with exhaustion.
“I know,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “I know you missed me. I get it. But I didn’t have time to miss you. I was too busy being run into the ground. You know how it is.” His voice softened again, just barely, as he looked over at you. “I don’t want to make you feel bad. I’m just… I just need a minute to breathe. Can you give me that?”
You nodded again, this time more understanding, though your chest still ached.
“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’ll give you space. I’m sorry for… pushing you.”
Sunghoon leaned back against the bed, eyes closed, and you could hear the faint sound of his breath, a little steadier now.
“I’m sorry, too,” he muttered after a beat, his voice still rough but with a touch of sincerity. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you’re not the reason I’m so tired. It’s just… I didn’t know how else to handle it.”
You didn’t respond right away. You simply sat there, letting the tension simmer between you both, but it wasn’t as sharp as it had been a few moments ago. You still felt the sting of his words, but the soft apology was enough to ease the weight, even just a little.
After a long moment of silence, Sunghoon finally shifted in the bed, sitting up straighter. He hesitated before reaching over and pulling you gently toward him. He didn’t say anything, but his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a quiet, almost apologetic hug.
You rested your head against his chest, and for the first time since he’d come home, the ache in your chest eased, just a little.
bsf!ni-ki but him & the reader acts more like girlfriend and boyfriend
best friends who act like lovers
PAIRING… bestfriend! Ni-ki x bestfriend! reader | GENRE… fluff | TROPE… bestfriends who act like a couple
They have “their” song
It started as a joke when "Bewitched" by Laufey came on during a walk home, and Ni-ki sang the chorus dramatically at her. Now, months later, it's their unofficial anthem. Whenever it plays, in a café, on a playlist, in the background of a TikTok, they instantly look at each other and grin. It's muscle memory now, the way she hums it when she sees him approaching, and the way he responds with a dramatic twirl or a wink.
He adjusts her hoodie string or necklace
She didn’t even notice it was uneven until Ni-ki reached over and gently fixed it, brushing her collarbone with his knuckle in the process. “Can’t have you out here lookin’ messy,” he smirked, as if his heart wasn’t thudding louder than his playlist. She blinked up at him, momentarily frozen, but the moment passed as quickly as it came.
They FaceTime every night
Sometimes they barely talk, just the soft clicks of keyboards and the occasional sigh. She once drifted off mid-conversation, and when she woke up, he was still there on the screen, eyes closed, head tilted to the side. Since then, she makes sure to say "goodnight" even if her eyes are heavy. He always replies, "Sweet dreams, brat."
She naps on his shoulder
It always starts with, "Just five minutes, Ni-ki," and ends with her head tucked into the crook of his neck, breathing slow and even. He doesn’t move a muscle, even if his arm goes numb. He just leans back, scrolls through his phone, and secretly smiles when she mutters his name in her sleep.
She steals his hoodies
Every time she 'borrows' one, she swears she’ll return it. But weeks later, he sees her wearing it at school, sleeves long over her hands. "That mine?" he teases. She just shrugs with a smug little smile. He pretends to grumble, but keeps bringing new ones just in case.
They get "jokingly" jealous
When a girl flirts with Ni-ki, she suddenly becomes very invested in her phone. Ni-ki notices. Later, when she compliments a boy’s hair, he goes quiet, then blurts, "It’s not even that cool." Their friends roll their eyes, but the tension lingers just long enough to be noticeable.
He holds her hand in crowds
It’s automatic. Busy halls, loud events, he just reaches back and finds her hand without looking. She squeezes once. He squeezes twice. They never talk about it, but neither of them lets go until they’re out in the open again.
They go on “not dates”
They’ll spend hours at a bookstore, giggling at weird titles, sharing earbuds as they flip through poetry. When the barista asks, “Are you two together?” Ni-ki answers, “Friends,” but he doesn’t look her in the eye. She just laughs and nudges his shoulder.
He fixes her eyeliner or clips her hair
“Hold still,” he says, licking his thumb to smudge the uneven wing on her eyeliner. She winces. “Ew, Ni-ki!” He laughs. “Relax, I’m doing God’s work.” Moments like these feel too intimate for two people who are "just friends," but neither of them pulls away.
Inside jokes no one else gets
They’ll burst into laughter mid-class when someone says something vaguely similar to a joke they made weeks ago. Everyone else is confused. They don’t bother explaining. Some moments aren’t meant to be shared.
Matching lock screens
They once edited a picture of their hands holding bubble tea with dumb emojis and saved it as a joke. But weeks later, when she checked his phone, it was still there. So was hers. Neither of them changed it.
He spoils her
“Didn’t you say you liked those cookies last month?” he says, handing her a box without fanfare. When she looks confused, he shrugs. “They were on sale.” She knows they weren’t. He just remembers the small things.
They share everything
He doesn’t think twice about taking a sip from her straw, and she always grabs a second fork at lunch because she knows he’ll want a bite. It's unspoken, they belong in each other's space.
He defends her
When someone teases her too harshly, Ni-ki steps in with a simple, "Not cool." His voice is calm, but his stare is sharp. He doesn’t raise his voice, but the message is clear. She never hears that joke again.
He drops everything when she’s upset
Once, she texted him, "Can you come?" after a horrible day. Ten minutes later, he was outside with a hoodie, chocolate, and a playlist. “You don’t have to talk,” he said. “Just sit with me.” And they did—in silence, under the stars, like it was their own little world.
FUCMKKKK FUCK FUCKFUMCUFMCUFMKKKKK YESSSS WE GOT HEESEUNG RED HAIR MJRROR IM CLAPPING SO HARD RN BUT ITS NOT MY CHEEKS BUT MY ASSCHEEKSSSSSSS EHEUHDJWHFJWJDNW. FUCCKCKCJCJUCJCUFKCIFKCIEKKSKQOQLSKSKCKWKDKWKWNSNAJ
