#sunghoon fluf

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ─── ･

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ─── .

pairing : sunghoon x black!fem!reader — genre : fluff, just major fluff, established relationship — requested: no - warnings: none, just hoonie spoiling his favorite girl

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ─── .

Music played softly from your phone as you sat at your vanity, fingers carefully unraveling the twists you’d put in the night before. One by one, your curls bounced free, springing into place until your whole head was covered in soft, defined coils. You shook them out gently, fluffing them with your pick until they framed your face perfectly.

“Cute,” you muttered to yourself, smiling at your reflection.

You leaned closer to the mirror, brushing on foundation, dusting highlight across your cheekbones, and tracing your lips with a brown liner before topping them with gloss. Just as you started on your lashes, your phone buzzed.

Sunghoon: Don’t dress too warm. We’re gonna be running around all day.

You: I thought we were just getting lunch?

Sunghoon: Lunch + anything you want. Don’t argue.

You groaned, but your lips tugged into a smile. This boy.

By the time you spritzed your setting spray, your phone dinged again.

Sunghoon: Don’t take forever. You already look good without all that.

You shook your head, whispering, “He just doesn’t get it.” But you couldn’t help the butterflies rising in your chest. You grabbed your bag, slipped on your shoes, and gave yourself one last look in the mirror.

“Okay,” you whispered to your reflection, curls and gloss on point. “You got this.”

Outside, a car horn announced his arrival. You peeked through the blinds—there he was, hoodie, cap, and mask pulled low, waiting.

⸻

“Finally,” Sunghoon teased as you slid into the passenger seat.

“Don’t start with me,” you shot back, buckling up.

He looked at you once, and that was all it took. His gaze lingered a beat too long, eyes flicking from your curls to your lips.

“What?” you asked, heat rushing up your cheeks.

He cleared his throat, starting the engine. “Nothing. You just look… wow.”

You smirked. “Told you I needed the extra time.”

Leaning over, he tugged your mask higher, his thumb brushing your cheek. “For the record, I would’ve waited all day.”

Your heart skipped, but you quickly turned to the window, hiding your smile.

⸻

First Stop: Streetwear Shop

The mall buzzed with energy as you stepped into the first store. The scent of new fabric mixed with bass-heavy music from the speakers. You drifted toward a rack of hoodies, fingers grazing a lavender one.

Before you could even lift it, Sunghoon was already holding it against your frame, tilting his head like a stylist.

“This one. Definitely this one.”

You laughed. “I didn’t even say I liked it yet.”

He smirked. “I know your style.”

Minutes later, he was at the counter. You tried sliding your card forward, but he gently blocked your hand with his own.

“Hoon—let me at least pay for one thing.”

“Nope.” His voice was calm but firm. “Not today.”

You sighed, cheeks heating. “I feel bad.”

“Don’t.” He leaned down just enough for his words to reach you. “Seeing you happy? That’s worth more than anything in this store.”

Your breath caught, and he walked off with the bag like it was nothing.

⸻

After a few more stops, he tugged you into a cozy café. “You need a break,” he said simply.

You sank into the booth while he ordered—his usual iced americano, your caramel latte piled high with whipped cream. One sip later, he grimaced.

You grinned knowingly. “Regretting your boring choice again?”

“Switch,” he said immediately, sliding his cup toward you.

You shook your head but swapped anyway. “You always do this.”

“Maybe I just like your taste better,” he teased, eyes locked on you as you sipped.

Before you could answer, he raised his phone and snapped a quick picture.

“Hoon!” you laughed, swiping at his screen.

He pulled it back smugly. “Nope. This one’s mine.” He showed you the picture—your lips around the straw, whipped cream dotting your smile. “Perfect.”

⸻

Not long after, you spotted a beauty supply store tucked into the corner. Your eyes lit up. “Wait, can we go in here?”

Sunghoon followed without hesitation, though the confusion was written all over his face the second you hit the natural hair aisle.

He picked up a jar of shea butter. “What’s this for?”

“Moisturizing. Keeps my curls soft.”

He nodded seriously before grabbing edge control. “And this?”

You giggled. “That’s for my baby hairs. You know—edges.” You pointed to your hairline.

“Ohhh.” His eyes widened. “That’s how you get them so neat.”

You tossed curl cream, oil, and a new bonnet into the basket. At checkout, you reached for your card, but Sunghoon slid his across first.

“Hoon! You don’t even know what half this stuff does!”

He grabbed the bag, smirk tugging at his lips. “Doesn’t matter. You do. That’s enough.”

Your heart warmed, and then he added, almost offhandedly, “Actually… I want to learn more about it.”

You blinked. “Why?”

“Because someday, our kids might have your pretty curls. And I should know how to take care of them.”

You froze, mouth open. “You can’t just say stuff like that in public!”

He glanced sideways at you, smirk tugging at his mask. “Why not? It’s true.”

⸻

By the time he tugged you into Pandora, your face was still warm.

“Hoon—no more. You’ve already done enough.”

“Pick something,” he said simply.

You exhaled, then smiled shyly. “What if we got matching bracelets? With each other’s initials.”

His expression softened instantly. “Perfect.”

Twenty minutes later, he was fastening a silver bracelet with an “S” charm on your wrist. He kissed your knuckles gently.

“Now you’ll always have me with you,” he murmured.

You whispered back, “Cheesy.”

“And you love it.”

⸻

On the way out, you dragged him into a sticker photo booth.

“Really?” he groaned.

“Yes. Sit down.”

The camera flashed as you both posed—peace signs, goofy smiles, dramatic faces. In the last frame, Sunghoon leaned in and kissed your cheek. You squealed right as the shutter clicked.

Later, he tucked the strip into his wallet. “That one’s my favorite.”

⸻

By the time you returned, your arms were heavy with bags, but Sunghoon carried most of them.

“What is ALL this?” Jungwon blurted the second you walked in.

“Shopping,” Sunghoon said coolly.

“Or spoiling?” Heeseung smirked.

Before you could answer, Ni-ki grabbed your wrist. “Ooooh, what’s this?” He lifted your arm. “Couple bracelet?!”

The dorm erupted.

“No way!” Jake cackled.

“Hyung?!” Jungwon gasped.

Jay groaned. “Sunghoon… cheesy era unlocked.”

Sunghoon didn’t flinch. He slid onto the couch beside you, lacing his fingers with yours, the silver glinting under the light.

“Laugh all you want,” he said smoothly. “At least I have someone worth matching with.”

The members groaned dramatically, but you hid your smile against his shoulder. When he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, you knew—he didn’t care if they teased.

⸻

Hours later, after you’d put everything away and slipped into bed with your bonnet on, your phone buzzed—Hoonie 💎 calling.

You answered, and his face appeared on the screen, hair damp, hoodie pulled over his head. His grin widened when he saw you.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he said softly.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Do you ever get tired of calling me that?”

“Never.” He lifted his wrist to the camera, showing his “Y” charm. “Been staring at this all night.”

You held up your own. “Me too. Feels… official.”

“Good. That’s what I wanted. Something you can look at when I’m not around.” His voice was tender now, no teasing.

You bit your lip. “And when I see it, I’ll think of you spoiling me rotten.”

He chuckled. “Nah. That’s just extra. I just wanted to give you something that meant us.”

You went quiet, tracing the charm with your finger as he yawned softly.

“Get some sleep, pretty girl,” he murmured. “Dream about me.”

You smirked. “You dream about me.”

“Already do,” he whispered, blowing a kiss at the screen.

When you finally hung up, your chest still felt warm. The bracelet caught the light on your wrist as you drifted off to sleep, smiling at the thought of him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ─── .

• pairing : sunghoon x black!fem!reader — genre : fluff,— requested: no - warnings: none ( honestly reader can be any race in this one , theres nothing to do with race in this in all honesty)

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ━━━━⊱⋆

The airplane hummed softly as you slid into your window seat, clutching the glossy pamphlet about Yonsei University’s Exchange Program. You flipped it open, mouthing some of the Hangul, stumbling over the words.

“Yun-shee…” you whispered.

“Yonsei,” a smooth voice corrected from beside you.

You turned, and your breath caught. The boy next to you was striking—dark hair falling across his forehead, sharp features softened by the faintest smile.

“Yonsei,” you repeated carefully.

His lips curved. “Perfect. You’ll get it with practice.”

You laughed lightly, cheeks warming. “Thanks. I’m heading there for an exchange program, but honestly? I’m nervous. My Korean’s not great, and I don’t know anyone in Korea.”

He tilted his head, studying you. “That’s normal. But… people might stare at you.”

Your brows knit. “Stare? Why?”

His gaze lingered, deliberate. “Because you’re pretty. You’ll stand out.”

Your heart skipped, caught off guard. “That’s… one way to reassure me,” you muttered, smiling despite yourself.

He chuckled, clearly amused. “Confidence suits you. You’ll be fine.”

The rest of the flight passed in easy conversation—him teaching you Korean phrases, you asking about food, him teasing you about burning barbecue meat unless you had a guide. By the time the plane began to descend, it felt like you weren’t strangers anymore.

As everyone gathered their bags, he gave you one last look.

“Maybe I’ll see you again.”

You smiled, heart fluttering. “Maybe.”

⸻

📚 Weeks Later at Yonsei

Life at Yonsei was busy—classes, language practice, making friends. One of those new friends was Park Yeji, a bubbly, sweet girl who became your closest friend almost instantly. You spent afternoons studying together in the library, trading stories about your homes and families.

One evening, lounging on the grass outside campus:

“So… do you have siblings?” Yeji asked.

“Yeah, two. They drive me crazy, but I love them.”

Yeji nodded. “Same here. I have an older brother. He’s… ugh, so annoying sometimes. Always teasing me, always acting cool.”

You grinned. “Annoying older brother, huh? Hopefully he’s at least cute to make up for it.”

Yeji’s face scrunched in disgust. “Ew! Don’t say that! Gross!”

You laughed. “I’m kidding! Relax.”

⸻

🍲 Dinner at the Park House

Since you didn’t have family in Korea, Yeji’s parents were immediately warm and welcoming—checking if you were comfortable, insisting you try everything, treating you like part of their family.

You stepped into the dining room, and froze. Sitting at the table was him. The boy from the plane.

“Oh my god… you’re the guy from the flight!”

His eyes widened briefly, then that familiar smirk appeared. “Knew I’d see you again.”

Yeji blinked. “Wait… you guys know each other?”

“Kind of,” you said, still staring. “We sat next to each other on the way here.”

Sunghoon’s gaze held yours. “And I told her people would stare at her,” he said smoothly, lips quirking. “Looks like I was right.”

Your cheeks warmed, but Yeji didn’t catch the meaning. She pushed you to sit.

Dinner was lively, his parents warmly asking about your life and studies. Sunghoon stayed quiet at first, but you caught his gaze on you often. When you fumbled wrapping ssam, he leaned close, voice low:

“Too much garlic. Unless you want everyone staring again.”

You glared. “You’re not funny.”

He smirked. “You smiled, though.”

Under the table, your knee brushed his, and he didn’t move away. He slid dishes toward you, his sister oblivious, while he focused entirely on you.

By the end of the night, Yeji was walking you to the door. Sunghoon appeared behind her, hands in pockets, eyes on you.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t forget what I said on the plane.”

“About what?”

“That you stand out. Still true. Especially tonight.”

Your stomach flipped as Yeji tugged your arm. “Come on, I’ll walk you out!”

You glanced back—he was still in the doorway, watching you with that quiet intensity that made it impossible to forget him.

⸻

📱 Back at the Dorm

Later that night, you kicked off your shoes and rummaged through your purse for your phone to check messages. Your fingers brushed something small and folded. Curious, you pulled it out—a neat little slip of paper with a number written in crisp handwriting: “Text me. –S”

Your heart skipped a beat as a grin spread across your face. You couldn’t resist. Carefully, you typed:

“Hey, it’s me… from the plane 😅”

A few moments later, your phone buzzed.

“I was hoping you’d text 🙂”

You smiled, cheeks warming, as you typed back:

“So… what are you doing now?”

“Thinking about how I should show you around Seoul. Give you a real Korean introduction, not just the touristy stuff.”

Your fingers hovered over the screen for a second, heart racing, before you replied:

“That sounds… amazing. I could definitely use a local guide 😏”

“It’s a deal then. But warning—you’ll probably end up eating too much and laughing way too much.”

You laughed softly at the text and typed back:

“Sounds perfect to me 😄 When do we start?”

“Whenever you’re ready. I’ll pick the spots, you bring your appetite and curiosity.”

pairing : sunghoon x black!fem!reader — genre : fluff, just major fluff, established relationship — requested: no - warnings: none, just hoonie wanting to bring his girl more into his world

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ━━━━⊱⋆

The winter air nipped at your cheeks as you stepped into the quiet ice rink, the scent of fresh snow and distant pine trees mingling in the crisp evening. Sunghoon had rented out the entire place just for the two of you—no crowds, no distractions, only the soft glow of the overhead lights and the smooth expanse of ice waiting. His hand was warm in yours, fingers laced through yours with that gentle possessiveness he always carried. He was dressed casually—a black beanie pulled low over his dark hair, a cozy scarf wrapped around his neck, and his signature smile lighting up his face as he glanced at you. Your brown skin caught the twinkling rink lights beautifully, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at how effortlessly he made you feel special. The rink echoed faintly with the sounds of holiday music playing softly from hidden speakers, creating a magical, intimate atmosphere that made everything feel like your own private world.

"Ready for this?" he asked, his voice soft with excitement, eyes sparkling like the ice below. You nodded, squeezing his hand tighter. Ice skating wasn't your strongest suit—you'd only been a few times before, and those ended in more giggles than grace—but with Sunghoon, the former Olympic hopeful turned ENHYPEN star, you felt safe and thrilled. He led you to the rental area, where a lone attendant handed over the skates with a knowing smile, respecting the privacy of the rented space. As you sat on the bench to lace them up, Sunghoon knelt in front of you, his hands deftly tightening the laces on your boots.

"You look adorable," he murmured, his gaze lingering on the way your curls framed your face under your knit hat. The cold made your nose a bit rosy, and he reached up to tuck a stray strand behind your ear, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary. You felt a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the layers you wore. Once your skates were secure, he did the same for his own, standing up with that easy confidence born from years on the ice. He offered his hand again, pulling you to your feet, and together you shuffled toward the ice, the world tilting slightly as the solid ground gave way to the slick surface.

Stepping onto the ice, you immediately wobbled, your arms flailing for balance. Sunghoon was right there, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to steady you. "I've got you," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. He guided you in slow, tentative circles at first, holding both your hands as you found your footing. With the rink all to yourselves, there were no collisions to worry about—just the two of you, gliding in peaceful loops. Laughter bubbled up from your chest as you clung to him, your skates scraping awkwardly while his moved with effortless grace. "See? You're a natural," he teased, though you both knew that was far from the truth.

As you gained a bit more confidence, he released one hand, letting you skate side by side while still holding the other. The holiday playlist drifted through the air—gentle renditions of 'Winter Wonderland' and 'Let It Snow'—and Sunghoon hummed along under his breath, his voice low and melodic. He pointed out little details: the way the lights danced across the ice like falling stars, or how the empty benches around the edge looked inviting for a future rest. "Remember your first time skating?" you asked, glancing at him as you pushed forward together. He chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, yeah. I fell so many times, my mom thought I'd never get up. But I loved it—the rush, the focus. It was like nothing else mattered. I'd wake up at dawn, lace up my skates, and just go. Hours on the ice, perfecting every edge, every turn. It was my escape, my passion."

Halfway around what felt like your tenth lap, Sunghoon pulled you closer, his arm slipping around your shoulders. The two of you slowed to a gentle glide, the vast rink amplifying the intimacy. "You know, I miss this sometimes," he confessed quietly, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia that tugged at your heart. You tilted your head, looking up at him with curiosity. "Miss what? The competitions?" He shook his head slightly, his eyes distant for a moment as he stared at the ice ahead. "The freedom of just skating for the joy of it, without the pressure of judges or schedules. Back then, it was my whole world—pushing my limits, feeling the wind rush past as I jumped or spun. There were lonely practices where I'd imagine crowds cheering, but mostly, it was just me and the ice, finding that perfect flow."

He paused, spinning you gently under his arm before pulling you back in close, your bodies brushing as you resumed skating. "But being an idol? I love it too. The music, the fans, performing on stage... it's a different kind of thrill. Sharing that energy with thousands, creating moments that last—it's incredible. And now, sharing this with you? That's the best part. It reminds me why I fell in love with skating: the simple happiness of moving with someone who matters, no expectations, just us." His words hung in the air, sincere and vulnerable, and you felt your heart swell. Sunghoon rarely delved into his past like this, the dreams he'd traded for spotlights and tours, and hearing him open up made the rented rink feel even more like a sanctuary.

"I'm glad you brought me here," you replied softly, resting your head briefly on his shoulder as you skated side by side. The rhythm of your blades synced up a little more, a small victory that had you smiling. "It means a lot that you'd share this with me. I can see it in your eyes—how the ice still pulls at you." He smiled down at you, pressing a quick, feather-light kiss to your temple. "It does. But only when you're here with me." The two of you continued, weaving lazy patterns across the ice with linked arms. He demonstrated silly tricks from his skating days, like a playful backward glide that had you both laughing when he exaggerated it just to make you smile. You tried a simple twirl next, encouraged by his cheers, but ended up tumbling forward into his chest. He caught you effortlessly, holding you there for a beat longer than needed, his heartbeat steady under your palm.

"Okay, pro, show me how it's done," you challenged, stepping back with a grin. Sunghoon's eyes lit up, and with a playful bow, he executed a smooth glide backward, followed by a quick spin that echoed softly in the empty space. He extended his hand again, pulling you into a gentle sway, like you were dancing on ice under the stars. The cold wind from your movements whipped at your faces, but the warmth between you kept it at bay. You shared stories as you went—him recounting a chaotic group skate with his members that devolved into a hilarious pile-up, you describing your own childhood winter adventures that usually wrapped up with snowball fights and warm hugs from family. Each laugh, each shared glance, built a cozy bubble around you, making the private rink your exclusive haven.

After what felt like hours—but was probably closer to an hour—of exhilarating laps and playful tumbles, your legs started to ache from the unaccustomed effort, and Sunghoon noticed your slight wince. "Time for a break?" he suggested, steering you toward the edge with a supportive hand on your back. You nodded gratefully, and he helped you off the ice, his arm steady around your waist until you reached solid ground. The transition back to the carpeted area felt jarring but welcome, your cheeks flushed from exertion and joy, a light sheen of sweat making your brown skin glow under the lights. Sunghoon unlaced your skates first, his fingers careful and attentive, then his own, before slipping back into your boots and his sneakers.

"There's a hot chocolate stand a few blocks down—best in the city," he said with a wink, zipping up his jacket and offering his arm. You bundled up against the deepening chill outside, the rented rink's door clicking shut behind you as you stepped into the snowy street. The city was alive with holiday cheer—strings of lights draped over lampposts, distant carols floating from shops—but the walk was short and sweet, just enough to cool you down without freezing. Sunghoon kept you close, his body shielding you from the light flurries starting to fall, chatting animatedly about the next time you'd skate, maybe with a lesson from him on a basic spin.

The stand was a charming little wooden cart tucked under an awning, steam rising from a large pot as the vendor ladled out mugs. The air smelled of rich cocoa and vanilla, and Sunghoon ordered two extras—topped with whipped cream, mini marshmallows, and a dash of peppermint for that festive kick. He paid with a quick tap of his phone, then handed you your mug, the warmth seeping through your gloves instantly. You strolled slowly back toward the rink's direction, sipping the velvety drink, the sweetness melting on your tongue like a hug in liquid form. Snowflakes caught in your curls, and Sunghoon brushed one away gently, his eyes soft as he watched you.

Finding a quiet bench along the way, partially shielded by evergreens, you both sat, the city lights twinkling around you. He sat close, his thigh pressing against yours for shared warmth. "This hits the spot," you sighed, licking a bit of whipped cream from your lip. He chuckled, reaching over to dab at a smudge on your cheek with his thumb, his touch lingering with casual affection that made your stomach flip. The conversation flowed easily at first—recounting your favorite moments from the skate, teasing him about his 'pro' status despite that one wobbly recovery, and brainstorming what trick you'd master next time (something simple, you insisted, while he promised to catch you every fall).

But as the mugs emptied halfway, Sunghoon's expression turned a shade more serious, though his eyes remained gentle and warm. "What do you think about us?" he asked, leaning forward slightly, his voice low to keep the moment private amid the occasional passersby. "I mean, with my career... the public eye. We've kept things low-key so far, just stolen moments and late-night texts, but I want more. Dates like this, without always looking over our shoulders. Holding your hand in public, introducing you properly—not as a secret, but as my person."

You nodded thoughtfully, stirring the remnants of your drink with the spoon, the marshmallows now a gooey swirl. "I love what we have—it's real, you know? The way you make me feel seen, like I'm the only one in the room, even when you're surrounded by fans and cameras. But yeah, the fans, the media... it could be intense. People might speculate, say things about me, about us being different." You gestured vaguely, aware of the potential whispers about a Black woman with a K-pop idol, the cultural mix that might spark curiosity or criticism. It wasn't something you fixated on, but it was there, a quiet undercurrent. Sunghoon's brow furrowed, and he reached across the space between you, covering your hand with his larger one, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin.

"Hey, let them talk," he said firmly, his gaze locking onto yours with unwavering conviction. "You're incredible—the way you light up a room, your laugh, how you challenge me to be better every day. That's what matters to me. My members already adore you; Jay keeps asking when you're coming to the next game night, and Jungwon says you're the best influence on me, keeping me grounded. The fans? The real ones will support us. They'll see how happy you make me, how we fit together perfectly. And if there are negatives... we'll face them together. I just want to build this with you, step by step. No rush, but no hiding either. Imagine concerts where you're front row, cheering louder than anyone, or trips where we walk hand in hand, no disguises."

His words wrapped around you like the steam from your mug, easing the uncertainties that had been simmering beneath the surface. The vulnerability in his voice, the way he prioritized 'us' over the whirlwind of his idol life, made you fall for him a little harder. The falling snow reflected the streetlights, making them shimmer as he leaned in closer on the bench. "I really like you," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the soft crunch of snow under distant footsteps. The air between you thickened with unspoken promises, and before you could respond, he closed the distance, his lips brushing yours in a sweet, lingering kiss.

It was soft and unhurried, tasting faintly of peppermint and chocolate, his free hand cupping your cheek tenderly to angle your face just right. There was no rush, no heat—just pure, gentle affection that made your heart race in the best way, his lips moving against yours with careful exploration, savoring every second as if etching it into memory. When he pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against yours, a shy smile playing on his lips. "See? We can handle whatever comes," he murmured, his breath mingling with yours in the cold air.

You smiled back, your hand still in his, heart full to bursting. "Yeah, we can." The snow continued to fall lightly, dusting your shoulders and the bench in white, adding to the fairy-tale magic. Sunghoon finished his hot chocolate first, then yours if you let him, before standing and offering his hand. "One more lap before we head out?" he suggested, eyes hopeful and bright. You agreed, and as you walked the short distance back to the rink, the kiss seemed to infuse your steps with new lightness. Back on the ice for that final glide, you skated closer, more boldly, stealing glances and brushes of hands, the private space allowing you to savor every moment without a care.