MELTING LEE HEESEUNG

MELTING ⸺ LEE HEESEUNG

genres! fluff, established relationship, song fic

word count! 280

warnings! slightly suggestive

playlist! melting by Kali Uchis

Lee Heeseung was heaven’s incarnate, you were sure of it. His divine aura had bewitched you from the very moment you laid eyes on him, his potency enshrouding all your senses every time he was near.

He melted you like ice cream basking in the warmth of the sun, like your favorite flavor of the soft frozen treat you craved the taste of his soft lips, like taking a bite from the crisp cone you desired the harsh pinch of his pearly whites on the skin of the space between your neck and shoulder, like layering your preferred toppings on the sweetened and flavored cream you lusted for the weight of his body on top of yours.

Heeseung was nothing short of a daydream, he was extraordinarily ethereal, you’d never met anyone who had been so blessed by the goddess well known for her love and beauty, he must’ve been Aphrodite’s favorite. His doe eyes the color of loamy soil, his plump lips a tinge of peony, his olive skin pure like he only ever bathed in the waters of a holy river, and wisps of feathery blond hair that framed his face like a renaissance painting exhibited in a museum, a place reserved for items of only the most incalculable value.

Your infatuation for this man was boundless, surely he had you under a love spell, the way his smile infallibly set your heart ablaze like a flame to a candle, blood rushing and insides turning inverted at his every saccharine utterance or touch, his laugh comparable to the melodies sung by the angels up above.

He was your deity, and you, his devout votary.

© 2023 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to alter, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform.

[JUNGWON] It was fun today, too ❤️ Thank you NEWARK🔥🔥

I LIKE YOU ⸺ PARK SUNGHOON

genres! fluff, best friends to lovers

word count! 649

warnings! minor profanity, mention of undergarments and being partially nude

synopsis! in which park sunghoon likes many things, but he’ll always like you the most

Sunghoon liked the ice—or more so he liked the feeling of gliding on it, especially when it was freshly polished. He liked the vibrations in his feet and legs whilst skimming the frozen water, he liked the sound of the blades on his skates scratching against the transparent crystalline solid, and he liked how the small particles of frost would spray up in the air after he landed a trick, showering him in white crystals, it felt magical, but his favorite part was you standing at the sidelines, cheering him on, calling out his name, smiling at him, clapping for him.

His friends, family, peers, and even you; his best friend were always under the impression he liked being on the ice the most, but what Sunghoon really liked the most was being able to spend quality time with you, preferably just the two of you, the ice just makes allowance for it.

Sunghoon liked autumn, it was his favorite season of the year. He liked the crisp air, the warm tones of orange, yellow, and fiery red leaves clinging to the branches of the trees until they dropped to the ground, and the rustling noise they made as they floated around the sidewalks, mixing and mingling in piles as if waiting to be crunched underneath his shoes. He liked the smell of pumpkin and cinnamon and other spices mixing together that seemed to waft through the city, courtesy of the myriad of cafes in Seoul. Notably, he mostly enjoyed it for the coca and cider.

But the part he liked the most? The sacred tradition of campfires in your friend group, always having to roast your marshmallows for you because you would burn them and complain about the taste of your s’mores being too chalky, never minding the fact that he would freeze his ass off by lending you his jacket because you refused to wear one, claiming it would “ruin the fit”, but above all, he liked the way you would cuddle into him later into the night when the air became slightly more frigid and you said no to going inside the tent because in your words “a hoe never gets cold”, instead you would seek his warmth, sitting between his legs and leaning back to rest your head on his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist in turn while resting his chin on the top of your head.

Sunghoon liked autumn, or perhaps he just liked autumn with you.

Sunghoon liked the color white, the purest of all colors, or maybe it just looked that way when you were wearing it, or maybe it was because he often dreamt of you in a particular dress of that color as you made your way down the aisle towards him where he waits at the altar, bouquet in your hands and a soft melody playing somewhere in the background. White was the color of serenity and simplicity, a symbol of a new beginning, much like the future he imagined with you, he hoped one day you and him could start fresh, not as best friends but as lovers and it would be serene and simple, not messy and complicated because he hated that, he had spent too much of his life loving you for it to come to that.

But as Sunghoon sits across from you at the library table, wondering how in the hell he's supposed to confess to you after all these years, you snap him out of his thoughts.

“Wanna get some snacks?” You ask in a whisper.

He looks up at you from his laptop, the bright screen illuminating his face; creating a gleaming reflection in his ebony eyes, almost like the facet of a Milky Way glowing in the dark abyss of space.

That's the way you've always seen Sunghoon, your best friend since kindergarten and even now in your junior year of university. You thought the world of him, the way he could always manage to brighten up your day no matter how gloomy your mood was, and if the multiverse were real, you were fairly certain that you and he were best friends in every single one of them because, for you, a life without Park Sunghoon was a galaxy without its stars: impossible.

The raven-haired young man nods in agreement and you both get up from your seats quietly so as to not disturb the other studying students, and saunter out of the library, towards the vending machines placed at the front of the building.

Sunghoon pulls out his wallet before you can even though you'd already told him you'd pay on the walk there, and just as you are about to open your mouth to protest, you catch a glimpse of a familiar photo in the transparent pocket of his wallet, stopping you from your objection as a cheeky grin makes its way on your face, a mischievous glint in your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and melodramatically breathing in the scent of petrichor the rain from earlier left behind.

Your sudden change in behavior doesn't go unnoticed by your keen best friend as he continues with his purchase from the automated food and beverage apparatuses while keeping his eye on you from his peripheral vision, not bothering to raise a question regarding what snack or drink you want since he already knew your favorites.

“What kind of scheme could you possibly be plotting in that pretty head of yours?” He probes playfully, internally analyzing every small detail of your current situation for an answer to your puckish comportment but fails to come to a conclusion.

“You have a picture of me in your wallet?” You inquire but the teasing tone in your voice tells him it's a rhetorical question and he knows he's busted.

a delicate pink blooms on the skin of his cheeks as he rubs at the back of his neck, to his luck the merchandise drops from the spinning coils inside the machines and he quickly grabs the snacks and bottled drinks from the slots, shoving yours in your hands before rushing back into the library, completely avoiding you.

The rain had returned by the time you and Sunghoon walked back home, deciding it was best to make a beeline for his apartment which thankfully was only down the street.

The raindrops fell in a downpour as you both carefully sprinted towards shelter, the cold relentless droplets soaking your clothes, leaving goosebumps in their wake, as soon as you entered his apartment he offered you one of his hoodies to change into after telling you to take a warm shower and he follows suit once you're done.

To your relief, your bra and underwear remain dry and you slip them back on along with Sunghoon’s black hoodie, a part of you feels slightly awkward about being partially nude under your best friend’s pullover hood, but you are mainly grateful it fits like a dress, the hem stopping at your thighs.

You sit on the marble countertop of the kitchen island as Sunghoon cooks ramen on the stove, clad in grey sweats and a pullover hoodie similar to yours with the exception of being navy blue in hue, the situation feels domestic and its moments like this in your friendship that you think you and Sunghoon have the potential of being more than just best friends.

For a moment you imagine you are brave enough to tell him your feelings, how his embrace feels like the safest place you could ever be, how his smile never fails to wonderstruck you as if you’ve just been shown all the secrets of the universe, how his comforting presence is the only thing you need after a bad day, how “best friend” was too weak of a word to describe what he meant to you because in truth he was more than that, he was a part of you, a part of your soul, and he had a way of being in your life that nobody else did, he understood you even when you didn't understand yourself, and who knows? Maybe one day you will, maybe one day you'll tell him everything your heart has left unsaid.

“Hey, Hoonie?”

“Yeah?” He turns to face you.

“That picture in your wallet,” you speak softly and sincerely with a gentle smile. “Keep it there.”

Fuck it. Sunghoon thought to himself, how could he not do anything when you were smiling at him like that, especially when you were wearing his clothes, and the sweet look in your eyes only ignited the candle in his heart, the flame burning brighter than it ever had before.

In one swift movement, Sunghoon steps forward, cupping your cheeks in his big hands as his lips press into yours, not too rough and not too gentle but filled with passion.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to relax, a sense of bliss washing over you, your lips move in sync with his, they are soft and warm, and you can taste the flavor of his chapstick. He bites down harshly on your bottom lip before sliding his tongue into your mouth, your wet muscles swirling with each other feverishly, his hands dropping down to grab your waist, his grip tightening as he pulls you in closer to him so your chest is pinned against his and you wrap your arms around his neck.

Slowly you pull away from one another, pressing your foreheads together as you both catch your breath, opening your eyes a few moments afterwards.

He clenches his slender fingers, squeezing your waist lightly as his eyes bore into yours, “I like you, I always have, and I always will.”

You chuckle and peck his lips before replying, “And I like you, Park Sunghoon, always have and always will.”

© 2023 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to alter, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform.

jake ♡ 231006 en-note

THE PREMONITION OF LOVE ⸺ RIKI NISHIMURA

genres! fluff, implied enemies to lovers, soul mate au, bad boy x good girl, high school au

word count! 2323

warnings! minor profanity, mention of underwear but nothing weird I promise

synopsis! in which you once again find yourself in detention with the school’s most notorious bad boy and things soon take a turn for the worst… or maybe not

link! pt. 1 (koi no yokan)

author’s note! I rewrote this a couple times and I’m pretty satisfied with this version so I hope the ppl who asked for pt. 2 aren’t disappointed 😭🙏🏽

“I can’t believe I’m in trouble again because of you,” you fumed, harshly sweeping the broom across the hardwood floor of the classroom, minuscules of dust particles flying into the dustpan as Niki held it in place for you.

The rangy boy rotates his eyes at your dramatics, “Don’t blame me for your violent tendencies, you lowlife criminal.”

You halt your actions upon hearing his choice of words; the same insult you used against him a few weeks ago in this very room, since then the boy had been relentlessly teasing you throughout the days, eventually sending you into a fit of rage, causing you to hurl a newly sharpened pencil his way, but of course, the agile troublemaker was able to swiftly dodge your attack, ultimately leading to the yellow-coated stick of graphite to strike another student.

You weren’t sure of Niki’s reason for being here but due to his reputation of being a devil-child, you weren’t surprised to see him serving after-school detention.

Your eye twitched in irritation at his smug expression, clearly proud of himself for always being able to get a reaction out of you, he seemed to find solace in getting under your skin.

You kiss your teeth in annoyance before going back to cleaning just as the principal had ordered, “Whatever. Let’s just get through this detention and never speak to each other again.”

Niki smirks at your proposition, finding it bodacious how you habitually attempted to boss him around despite his notorious reputation for being formidable, it’s what made you incontrovertibly interesting, why he was so drawn to you despite the fact you were two worlds apart.

He knows he shouldn’t, people like you and him don’t associate with each other, but he can’t help himself, it’s as though a cosmic force lives inside you and it’s pulling him in against his will—albeit he doesn’t particularly find himself resisting in the first place.

“No thanks, I’m good,” he simpered, looking pleased with himself.

His artificial smile leaves you breathing fire as you drop the broomstick with a huff, narrowed eyes glowing with malevolence, “And why not?”

“Hmm…” Niki furrows his eyebrows comically, eyes darting around the room while pursing his lips, pretending to ponder your question before responding, “Because I don’t want to.”

“Besides you should be glad I’m here to help, Miss President,” he continues, “this is a pretty big classroom. How is your little self supposed to take on this big mess all by yourself?”

“And what about these desks?” He walks over to one of the desks, gliding his slender fingers over the wooden surface before gripping the sides. “Won’t you need a big strong man to carry them for you?” He continues his condescending act with a sneer.

In one swift movement, the bottom of your shoe meets the edge of the desk in a vigorous kick, the piece of furniture slamming into his knees, causing the boy to hunch over in pain, hands rubbing them to soothe the twinge.

“Don’t patronize me, Nishimura,” you seethe.

He glares at you in return, regaining his composure. “Do you always have to be so stuck up?”

“Watch your mouth.”

“You first,” he shoots back.

The animosity in the room thickens with each passing second you and Niki shoot daggers into each other's eyes, neither of you willing to let up.

Until you hear a faint click of the door, a sudden sense of impending doom settles in your gut, and Niki seems to share the same intuition as your eyes widen, both of you frantically rushing towards the door.

You reach for the knob and it’s just as you dreaded; it’s jammed, the elderly janitor on the other side is oblivious to the muffled banging and shouting behind the door, happily whistling along to “Secret Garden” by IU as he continues to prance his way down the halls.

“Hey! We’re still in here!”

“Open the fucking door, you prick!”

As unlikely as it seemed—maybe not that unlikely, it was you who made the latter statement causing Niki to raise an eyebrow at you with a tilt of his head, “I thought I was supposed to be the bad one here.”

“Shut up, Nishimura,” you grumble, kicking his shin, but Niki won't take that from you a second time.

He takes advantage of his strength to grab your wrists, pinning them against the wall on either side of your head, and even in his angry outburst he reminds himself he's still a man, careful not to use his full vigor on you, after all his goal wasn't to scare you, but to assert his dominance.

“Are you done?” he interrogates, his usual mischievous and playful aura now replaced with sternness.

You attempt to break free from his restricting hands before giving in to the thought of having to answer to him but it was of no avail, his grasp like iron.

“Answer me,” he demands, jaw clenching at your silence.

You roll your eyes still not meeting his harsh gaze, “Yes, now can you let me go?”

Niki might have granted your wish had you asked politely, but it was clear he wasn't satisfied with your tone of voice, his hold on your wrists staying firm, and he decided to command something he knew you'd hate, “Say please.”

You scoff as you finally meet his eyes, opening your mouth to retort but the grim expression on his face makes you decide otherwise, You swallow your pride and it feels like acid down your throat, “Please.”

And just like that, he’s back to his usual abysmal self, a smug smirk plastered on his peachy-pink lips whilst he realises you, petting your head as a form of damage control which surprisingly seemed to work because you make no move to swat his hand away, although you still curse him under your breath.

Almost an hour passed with occasional bickering from you and Niki as you continued cleaning the classroom followed by small gaps of comfortable silence until you finally completed the task, allowing yourselves to rest.

You don’t comment on the fact he chooses to sit right behind you once again, assuming he’s only doing it to annoy you.

“I wonder what time it is, it looks like it’s getting kinda late.” You say, gazing out the window at the dusk sky, the sun beginning to set below the horizon painting the vast atmosphere in a calming blue fading into a deep golden decorated with white clouds.

“Just go to sleep, they’ll find us in the morning,” he remarks, before using his forearms as a cushion for putting his head down on the desk.

You nod in agreement, chin resting in the palm of your hand, eyelids heavy as you feel yourself drifting off into dreamland.

Wait.

Your eyes widen in realization, quickly whipping around to face the sleeping boy, roughly grabbing onto his arm and jolting him awake, “It’s Friday!”

The irritated scowl on his face dissipates at your initial action when he registers your words, his expression now mocking your own, “Oh shit.”

You cross your arms over your chest, tapping a foot impatiently, “Geez, Nishimura. What happened to your tough-guy act earlier? You can’t even open a goddam window.”

For the past ten minutes, the poor boy had been struggling to open the classroom window and your nagging certainly wasn’t helping his frustrated state, he ceased his movements with a heavy sigh, eyeing you from his peripheral vision, “Should we use your head instead? I bet it’s as hard as a rock, we could bust this thing open in no time,” he responds, tapping the knuckle of his middle finger against the cold glass.

You refrain from smacking the back of his head, “Just get out of my way, you imbecile.” You retort, shoving him backward with your shoulder as you step forward, upon further inspection of the framed translucent aperture you find an aluminum screw lock, with a roll of your eyes you twist it, removing the small object from the tracks and opening the window.

You turn back to the boy standing behind you, knee slightly bent as a hand rests on your hip, a proud smirk donning your lips, “Shouldn't you show me a little gratitude, Nishimura?”

Niki remained poker-faced, grumbling out a “Thanks” and stepped onto the window sill in a crouched position, jumping off in a fleet-footed method.

“Holy shit,” you lean your upper body out the window, palms resting on the sill, checking if the gremlin was still alive after his reckless act.

You breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him staring up at the window, “What are you? An old lady? Hurry up.”

You zeroed in on the height with a thick gulp, a sensation of vertigo beginning to linger and it only grows more intense the longer you look down, “It's fine, don't wait for me.”

Niki sighed and gestured up at the pale moon contrasting the navy blue sky, “It's dark out. I can't let you walk home by yourself, it's not safe.”

If it wasn't for your loss of equilibrium, you might have been appreciative of his solicitude, howbeit in this predicament you can't seem to focus on anything else.

He stays silent for a moment, taking in your expression, and then it dawns on him, you have a fear of heights.

Instead of teasing you like you fully expected he would, he opts for a more sympathetic approach, “Just look at me, ok? Don't focus on what’s scaring you.”

You scoff, “I'm not scared, what the hell are you talking about? I'm just waiting for you to move out of my way.”

The boy sighs in vexation at your stubbornness, doing his best to maintain his benevolent tactic, “I’ll catch you, just jump and I'll handle the rest.”

You bite at your bottom lip, an obvious sign of your timorous feelings, and Niki implores you further, “Look, I know we aren't exactly the nicest to each other but that doesn't mean I'm out to hurt you.”

Your eyes surveyed him, having an internal battle with yourself about whether you should have faith in the brown-haired boy or not.

“It's ok, you can trust me,” he coaxed.

“Fine.” You huff, stepping on the window sill in a crouched position. “Just don't look under my skirt.”

Niki only responds with a shrug which slightly concerns you but you decide to ignore it for the time being, you take a deep breath, scanning the distance between you and the ground once more.

“Hey, what'd I say?” He reminds you gently, “only look at me.”

And you do, forcing your eyes away from the patterned concrete and only keeping your sights on him, you let yourself fall, your body feeling weightless in mid-air as you wait for his arms to catch you, and they do.

His arms circle tightly around your midriff, and your arms wrap around his neck in return, the tips of your shoes just barely hovering above the ground, his foot slightly lifting causing him to stumble backward a bit but thankfully he's able to balance himself, adrenaline coursing through both your veins as you let out chuckles of relief, gaping at each other.

Your breathing evens after a couple of seconds but Niki still hasn't let you out of his embrace, the novelty of the situation creating a stark contrast to your usual deep-seated aversion towards each other with the way your gazes soften subsequent to your eyes locking.

He'd never looked at you like this before and you aforementioned him, this tension was different, even from the tensity a few weeks ago when you landed right on top of him, you fixated on the windows to his soul, their deep brown seemed more balmy now, like a cool summer night when the weather wasn't too hot and not too cold, just pleasantly warm.

You suddenly thought of a phrase your grandmother would often say, mostly when talking about how she met your grandfather; koi no yokan.

“What’s that?” your eight-year-old self asked, eyes gleaming in curiosity.

Her lips curl in a tender smile, “It's the premonition of love. You'll feel it one day when you meet your soulmate, you won't love them right away but something in your heart will tell you that’s the person you're supposed to love for the rest of your life.”

You snap out of your reverie when Niki sets you down, patting your shoulder, “Next time I'll have to push you out.”

You roughly place your hand on his shoulder as a counter, “I’ll take you down with me, Nishimura.”

He chuckles and ruffles your hair, “Whatever, nerd. Let's go, I still gotta get you home safe.”

“And I gotta make sure you can read the street signs,” you quip as you begin walking alongside him.

Niki gives you a light shove on the shoulder which you return, and he shoves you again only this time the pad of his index finger meets your forehead causing you to nearly fall over but he's quick to clutch your upper arm, ceasing your fall, and you both laugh.

Even so, you can't help but psychologize your peculiar relationship with the boy, Riki Nishimura was the most beautiful, complicated thing. He was the genesis of your ire and ataraxy, he made you laugh when you didn’t want to, and he made you emotional even though you were well-known for your stoicism, you wanted to punch him and at the same time you wanted to understand him, you hated being around him but your heart skipped a beat whenever he got too close, he was your paradox.

Riki Nishimura was your koi no yokan and as he walked you home that night, you were both blissfully unaware of the Red thread of fate that interweaved your souls together for an eternity, tied around your pinkies in adamantine knots.

taglist: @sungookie @j-wyoung @en-chantedtomeetyou @hrts4riki @lunizsu @1-800shutthefuckup @woncine @weirdwinnienugu @jongseonglvs @en-happiness @heartbreakrikiversary @luvkpopp @sweetjaemss @dearhnni @uhyuns @tonkatesuramen @lovebvg @lovialy @yeomha

© 2023 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to alter, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform.

CHERRY THEORY ⸺ SIM JAEYUN

genres! fluff, established relationship, based off the ‘olive theory’ on tiktok

word count! 388

warning! reader loves cherries

playlist! lovers rock by tv girl

synopsis! in which opposites attract

“Sorry,” you cut off Jake halfway through his story, “but are you gonna eat that?” You ask, pointing to the single cherry that was left uneaten in his ice cream bowl, the red fruit sinking into the leftover melting cream.

“Nah, I don’t really like Cherry,” he scrunches his nose in distaste with a shake of his head.

You pluck the crimson orb from his bowl by its green stem and plop it into your mouth, “I love Cherry.”

Jake leans back in his chair, chuckling as he watches you with a tender smile, your elbows propped on the table, chin resting in the palms of your hands, waiting for him to continue telling you one of his childhood anecdotes.

The moment would look like a scene from a rom-com to any passerby in the rectangular picture-framed window of the ice cream parlor, you and him sitting across from each other, gazing lovingly into one another’s eyes with soft smiles, “Lovers Rock” by TV Girl playing lowly through the speakers, it was a simple ice cream date and yet there was nothing more endearing in the world.

You love cherries, while Jake hates them, which makes the relationship a “perfect balance” thus validating your’s and Jake’s compatibility, an opposites attract kind of love.

The ancient Greeks believed humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and two faces but Zeus feared their power and ordered his son Apollo to split them into two, condemning them to search for their other half for the rest of their lives, Jake was your other half and you were his, you completed each other like the tellings of the mythology.

“I love you,” Jake finds himself confessing, and although it's the first time he's saying it, he's not nervous like he thought he'd be when replaying this scenario in his head over and over again, constantly obsessing about the outcome, he doesn't anticipate your response like he imagined he would, worrying that you may not feel the same way, because in this moment he realizes what it truly means to love someone, he couldn't care less about his feelings right now, the only thing that mattered to him was for you to know he loved you truly and wholeheartedly.

Your lips curl into a wider grin, “I love you too, Jake.”

© 2023 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to alter, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform.