darquette

[darquette]

what I call self-love ♡

[darquette]

DIE FOR YOU 𖥔 psh

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐕𝐈， 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇

❪ 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐄 ❫ ｡ 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗋𝖽!𝗉𝗌𝗁 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 1340────── fluff 𝗋𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 ✿‎ kissing 贅沢 𖥔

RB & FDBKS ◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ FOR KISSES

“who is it?” sunghoon shouts again, only to be met with silence.

the bell rings for the fourth time this day, leaving sunghoon confused in his kitchen, with a cold black coffee in his hand.

sunghoon doesn’t have much visitors, not anymore when he decided to leave the job, wash his hands from this overlooked burden on his shoulders. and yet he would catch specks of blood on him, not completely gone, still howling at him to come back.

he places the chipped black mug down on the counter, its cold contents sloshing dully against porcelain. the caffeine never worked anymore—not since the last assignment. not since the last bullet, the last betrayal.

the bell rings again, pulling a curse out of sunghoon under his breath.

“seriously?” he sighs to himself, thinking that it’s probably those naughty kids around the block, ding dong ditching random people, and so he just returns to his worn down couch and plops down on it.

ring. a fifth time.

“oh my god,” sunghoon gets up from the couch with a irritated frown, rushing towards the door, although he is used to open it for ghosts.

sunghoon yanks the door open with the kind of irritated force that suggests he’s ready to yell at a neighborhood kid—

but the words die in his throat.

his breath catches mid-exhale.

time halts.

because there you are.

soaked from head to toe in a thin, once-luxurious silk gown now clinging to your trembling frame. mascara smudged like bruises under your eyes. your hair—a carefully constructed crown of wedding curls—ruined by the rain and wind, clinging to your cheeks, your temples. a cut on your heel where you must’ve ran barefoot.

you’re breathing like you just outran the devil.

and maybe you did.

his breath leaves him like a punch to the chest.

“…you,” he breathes, as if your name has been locked behind his teeth for too long.

you look up at him with red-rimmed eyes, chest rising and falling erratically. “i didn’t know where else to go,” you whisper. “i didn’t want to go anywhere else.”

sunghoon doesn’t move. his fingers tighten around the doorframe, knuckles white, disbelief flickering through his features. you watch his throat bob as he swallows, gaze dragging across your ruined wedding gown, the slight bruise on your ankle, the cut near your heel.

“you look…” he pauses, voice uneven. “you look like you ran through hell.”

“i did,” you rasp, stepping forward, voice trembling. “right after i said no.”

his breath stutters.

you shift. “i ran away, hoon. from him. from all of it.”

“i thought you chose him,” he says, and the words cut through the quiet like a blade. “i thought you wanted that life.”

you shake your head. “i thought i did too. until i found out what he really was. a trafficker. a liar. everything you tried to protect me from.” a beat. “you were right.”

sunghoon exhales shakily, running a hand through his hair as if to ground himself. “you came back.”

“i never stopped thinking about you,” you whisper. “you think i forgot? the nights we spent hiding in plain sight, you holding your breath so no one would see us touching fingers under the table? i loved you, sunghoon.”

his name from your lips again—it’s a wound reopening. and you see it in the way his lips part, eyes shining with disbelief.

and so he drowns in it as well, all these nights of silent prayers to anybody in this universe listening to him, to bring you back to him, so he could hold you and kiss you again— it’s a miracle he really manifested.

“i thought you didn’t want me anymore,” you add, your voice cracking. “i thought you left for good.”

“i left so you’d be safe,” he growls, stepping forward. “you were never supposed to come back to this world.”

“well, I did,” you reply, lip quivering, eyes locked onto his. “and i’m not safe. not without you.”

and in that moment, something shifts.

he doesn’t speak.

he doesn’t warn you.

he just closes the door behind you with a soft click, and then he’s in front of you—warm and solid, eyes burning like storm-lit skies.

his hand cups your jaw, thumb swiping at the wet streak down your cheek, and when you lean into it, something inside him snaps.

“i shouldn’t do this,” he whispers.

the kiss he gives you is nothing like the last one you remember.

this one is wild. possessive. grieving.

you gasp against his lips, arms winding around his neck instinctively. he groans low in his throat as your bodies collide, heat blooming where the rain had only moments ago touched your skin. his other hand slides down your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left—until every regret, every unspoken word, melts into this collision of lips, teeth, and breathless longing.

the kiss is everything left unsaid. a thousand what-ifs poured into one breathless exchange.

he tastes like coffee and anger and regret. you taste like rain and ruin and hope.

when he pulls away, barely, your foreheads press together, breaths mingling between you.

“tell me this is real,” he murmurs between kisses, foreheads pressed together. “tell me i’m not dreaming again.”

“you’re not,” you whisper, kissing him again, slower this time, savoring the moment. “but we don’t have time. he’ll come looking. i need you to run with me, sunghoon.”

he stares at you.

and for a second, you see the soldier again. the protector. the man who once vowed to guard your life with his own.

“alright,” he says finally, voice rough. “pack light. i still know a place they can’t find us.”

you nod, tears of relief springing to your lashes.

he looks at you then—so full of emotion, like he’s memorizing every inch of your face. And you swear you see it again:

that same look he gave you the night before he vanished from your life.

the look of someone who wanted to stay, but loved you too much to do so.

now he’s choosing you.

he presses one last kiss to your cheekbone, slower, softer—then disappears into the back room with quick, silent steps. you stand in the doorway, dress clinging to your damp skin, breath catching in your chest as you watch the man you once lost move like muscle memory, like instinct never truly left him.

you press a hand to your lips, swollen and tingling from his.

and then— a sound.

low. distant. tires on gravel.

your heart stutters.

you turn your head just as beams of light—white, clinical, searching—slice through the trees beyond the window.

your breath stops.

a car. maybe more.

the rain has softened now, just enough for the faint growl of an engine to bleed into the silence like a warning note dragged across a string.

you don’t need to see it fully to understand.

they found you.

sunghoon returns, almost on cue, a black duffel slung over one shoulder and a gun in his hand—sleek, matte, quiet.

you flinch at the sight of it. it’s the final line he’s now willing to cross. again.

his jaw is tight, his eyes sharper than you remember. focused. lethal.

he doesn’t speak as he peers through the edge of the curtain. doesn’t blink as he steps silently to check the back exit, his every movement fluid, trained, automatic.

your chest tightens with every beat.

the cabin is small. the kind that creaks in places, holds secrets in floorboards, memories in walls. but now, under the low hum of approaching danger—it feels like a glass box.

trapped. exposed.

“i should’ve never dragged you into this,” you whisper, barely audible. but he hears.

he stops, turns toward you.

and the look in his eyes—god, it’s not regret. it’s conviction.

like he’s never been more certain of anything.

he strides to you in three swift steps and presses the gun gently into your trembling hands.

“stay behind me,” he says, quiet but firm. “no matter what happens.”

스루 ܃ don’t ask, i had this bodyguard hoon idea for quite a while now. couldn’t sleep so well last night, so i thought of writing a short drabble out of the idea TT if it does well, maybe i will release a full oneshot or a series on this ! hope you enjoy this 💌

© bywons, 2025 div ctto —taglist open ! nets. @/k-labels @kflixnet @k-films

[darquette]

DIE FOR YOU 𖥔 psh

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐕𝐈， 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇

❪ 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐄 ❫ ｡ 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗋𝖽!𝗉𝗌𝗁 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 1340────── fluff 𝗋𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 ✿‎ kissing 贅沢 𖥔

RB & FDBKS ◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ FOR KISSES

“who is it?” sunghoon shouts again, only to be met with silence.

the bell rings for the fourth time this day, leaving sunghoon confused in his kitchen, with a cold black coffee in his hand.

sunghoon doesn’t have much visitors, not anymore when he decided to leave the job, wash his hands from this overlooked burden on his shoulders. and yet he would catch specks of blood on him, not completely gone, still howling at him to come back.

he places the chipped black mug down on the counter, its cold contents sloshing dully against porcelain. the caffeine never worked anymore—not since the last assignment. not since the last bullet, the last betrayal.

the bell rings again, pulling a curse out of sunghoon under his breath.

“seriously?” he sighs to himself, thinking that it’s probably those naughty kids around the block, ding dong ditching random people, and so he just returns to his worn down couch and plops down on it.

ring. a fifth time.

“oh my god,” sunghoon gets up from the couch with a irritated frown, rushing towards the door, although he is used to open it for ghosts.

sunghoon yanks the door open with the kind of irritated force that suggests he’s ready to yell at a neighborhood kid—

but the words die in his throat.

his breath catches mid-exhale.

time halts.

because there you are.

soaked from head to toe in a thin, once-luxurious silk gown now clinging to your trembling frame. mascara smudged like bruises under your eyes. your hair—a carefully constructed crown of wedding curls—ruined by the rain and wind, clinging to your cheeks, your temples. a cut on your heel where you must’ve ran barefoot.

you’re breathing like you just outran the devil.

and maybe you did.

his breath leaves him like a punch to the chest.

“…you,” he breathes, as if your name has been locked behind his teeth for too long.

you look up at him with red-rimmed eyes, chest rising and falling erratically. “i didn’t know where else to go,” you whisper. “i didn’t want to go anywhere else.”

sunghoon doesn’t move. his fingers tighten around the doorframe, knuckles white, disbelief flickering through his features. you watch his throat bob as he swallows, gaze dragging across your ruined wedding gown, the slight bruise on your ankle, the cut near your heel.

“you look…” he pauses, voice uneven. “you look like you ran through hell.”

“i did,” you rasp, stepping forward, voice trembling. “right after i said no.”

his breath stutters.

you shift. “i ran away, hoon. from him. from all of it.”

“i thought you chose him,” he says, and the words cut through the quiet like a blade. “i thought you wanted that life.”

you shake your head. “i thought i did too. until i found out what he really was. a trafficker. a liar. everything you tried to protect me from.” a beat. “you were right.”

sunghoon exhales shakily, running a hand through his hair as if to ground himself. “you came back.”

“i never stopped thinking about you,” you whisper. “you think i forgot? the nights we spent hiding in plain sight, you holding your breath so no one would see us touching fingers under the table? i loved you, sunghoon.”

his name from your lips again—it’s a wound reopening. and you see it in the way his lips part, eyes shining with disbelief.

and so he drowns in it as well, all these nights of silent prayers to anybody in this universe listening to him, to bring you back to him, so he could hold you and kiss you again— it’s a miracle he really manifested.

“i thought you didn’t want me anymore,” you add, your voice cracking. “i thought you left for good.”

“i left so you’d be safe,” he growls, stepping forward. “you were never supposed to come back to this world.”

“well, I did,” you reply, lip quivering, eyes locked onto his. “and i’m not safe. not without you.”

and in that moment, something shifts.

he doesn’t speak.

he doesn’t warn you.

he just closes the door behind you with a soft click, and then he’s in front of you—warm and solid, eyes burning like storm-lit skies.

his hand cups your jaw, thumb swiping at the wet streak down your cheek, and when you lean into it, something inside him snaps.

“i shouldn’t do this,” he whispers.

the kiss he gives you is nothing like the last one you remember.

this one is wild. possessive. grieving.

you gasp against his lips, arms winding around his neck instinctively. he groans low in his throat as your bodies collide, heat blooming where the rain had only moments ago touched your skin. his other hand slides down your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left—until every regret, every unspoken word, melts into this collision of lips, teeth, and breathless longing.

the kiss is everything left unsaid. a thousand what-ifs poured into one breathless exchange.

he tastes like coffee and anger and regret. you taste like rain and ruin and hope.

when he pulls away, barely, your foreheads press together, breaths mingling between you.

“tell me this is real,” he murmurs between kisses, foreheads pressed together. “tell me i’m not dreaming again.”

“you’re not,” you whisper, kissing him again, slower this time, savoring the moment. “but we don’t have time. he’ll come looking. i need you to run with me, sunghoon.”

he stares at you.

and for a second, you see the soldier again. the protector. the man who once vowed to guard your life with his own.

“alright,” he says finally, voice rough. “pack light. i still know a place they can’t find us.”

you nod, tears of relief springing to your lashes.

he looks at you then—so full of emotion, like he’s memorizing every inch of your face. And you swear you see it again:

that same look he gave you the night before he vanished from your life.

the look of someone who wanted to stay, but loved you too much to do so.

now he’s choosing you.

he presses one last kiss to your cheekbone, slower, softer—then disappears into the back room with quick, silent steps. you stand in the doorway, dress clinging to your damp skin, breath catching in your chest as you watch the man you once lost move like muscle memory, like instinct never truly left him.

you press a hand to your lips, swollen and tingling from his.

and then— a sound.

low. distant. tires on gravel.

your heart stutters.

you turn your head just as beams of light—white, clinical, searching—slice through the trees beyond the window.

your breath stops.

a car. maybe more.

the rain has softened now, just enough for the faint growl of an engine to bleed into the silence like a warning note dragged across a string.

you don’t need to see it fully to understand.

they found you.

sunghoon returns, almost on cue, a black duffel slung over one shoulder and a gun in his hand—sleek, matte, quiet.

you flinch at the sight of it. it’s the final line he’s now willing to cross. again.

his jaw is tight, his eyes sharper than you remember. focused. lethal.

he doesn’t speak as he peers through the edge of the curtain. doesn’t blink as he steps silently to check the back exit, his every movement fluid, trained, automatic.

your chest tightens with every beat.

the cabin is small. the kind that creaks in places, holds secrets in floorboards, memories in walls. but now, under the low hum of approaching danger—it feels like a glass box.

trapped. exposed.

“i should’ve never dragged you into this,” you whisper, barely audible. but he hears.

he stops, turns toward you.

and the look in his eyes—god, it’s not regret. it’s conviction.

like he’s never been more certain of anything.

he strides to you in three swift steps and presses the gun gently into your trembling hands.

“stay behind me,” he says, quiet but firm. “no matter what happens.”

스루 ܃ don’t ask, i had this bodyguard hoon idea for quite a while now. couldn’t sleep so well last night, so i thought of writing a short drabble out of the idea TT if it does well, maybe i will release a full oneshot or a series on this ! hope you enjoy this 💌

© bywons, 2025 div ctto —taglist open ! nets. @/k-labels @kflixnet @k-films

[darquette]

𝒮𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗈𝗋𝗒

( ENHYPEN ── 𝒻𝗼𝗿. 𝓒ARE. ) ⸝⸝ ℐ𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 . . . the sidewalk theory is proven to be true by your boyfriend, making your heart flutter. 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 : fluff. 𝓌𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌! none. ( 𝗐𝖼. 93O ) 𝓮𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮' … 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋-𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 ༘ . 𝒻! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋.

𝒶-𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. remember when i was thanking you guys for the 60+ followers... we are close to hit 100, WHAT?! thank you guys <3 ya'll are truly amazing (,,>﹏<,,) i also wanted to mention that i mainly use british english but i wrote pavement as sidewalk because i like this word better, you can judge me...

𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍! ♡ 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾&𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀&𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍.

SUNGHOON LOVES YOU FROM THE bottom of his heart. he is in fact so deep in love that he recently begun to create possible scenarios that could include you and him in the future ━ such as marriage.

okay, let's just not go that far. i might emphasise that, if you are expecting him to show affection in front of others or constantly do so in a daily basis, your fate is to be frustrated. the thing is that he just doesn't feel like doing it to prove his love for you. still, it's not like he has no necessity to kiss you, or hug you and all. he simply think different than most of people.

one of the things sunghoon figured out since he begun to fall in love with you and date you is that: protecting means loving, safety means forever. with that being said, he mainly prioritise protecting you more than everything; because, safety means forever, right? and he wants you to be his forever because he loves you ━ and loving means protecting.

also, since he was a little boy his mum taught him how to be a gentleman, and you can confirm your mother-in-law did a great job at it. sunghoon is just so polite, respectful, always respecting your boundaries ━ but still acting like that characteristic playfulness of a young boy when he feels acting like it.

talking about his mum's teaching, i might mention one thing that he learned, said his mum back then: "if someone you love is in this part of the sidewalk" she reefers to the part closer to the street. "and you want to keep them safe, make sure to switch places with them ━ just like i am doing with you." little sunghoon checks which part of the pavement he was walking on. "see? you're away from the danger of the streets, you know why?" "because you love me...?" "right! good boy!" ━ sunghoon from the future might not even remember this little lesson his mum taught him a long ago, but it glued to his mind until it became a normal thing to do.

now, dating this amazing man for almost two years, the sidewalk theory became your roman empire. you heard about this theory on tiktok, and from that point, you never felt the same way. i mean, since both of you were just friends he always did that, however, it was never that deep, you know? and since the beginning of your relationship you've never really figured this thing out.

so, nowadays, going out with your boyfriend is something else. sometimes you just want to feel that giddiness one more time, asking for a midnight walk to the convenience store with him, just to see him unconsciously touching your shoulders and gently switching places with you ━ and eat an ice cream. that scenario actually became kind of usual, but never failing to make you feel the same special way.

"hoon...?" you called his name hesitantly, not wanting to ruin his sleepy state since it was late. "baby?"

"mhm..." he groaned.

"can i ask you one thing?"

"mhm,"

"why do you do that?"

"mhm?"

"that, sunghoon, you know what i'm talking about!" you whispered-yelled, looking up to check on him, being met with his closed eyes and frowned brows.

"mhm-hm..." he denied.

"come on... you know? the sidewalk thing?"

"what sidewalk thing?" he spoke with a groggy voice.

"you know, when you switch sides with me..."

"i do it?"

"yeah!" you saw his right eye peaking at you, then closing again.

"mhm," sunghoon took a deep breath before asking: "what about it?"

"why do you do that?"

"i don't know," he shrugged. "may i ask why...?"

"because i like it..." you replied, admitting.

"why?"

"is cute,"

"mhm..." a cheeky grin was held in by him.

"why are you trying to hold that smile, mr. sidewalk?"

"hey!" his cute giggle echoed and that big grin found its way to escape. "don't call me that..."

"huh? want me to call you what then?" you teased, feeling his hold onto your waist gently tighten and his head snuggle onto the crook of your neck. "oh... someone's feeling a little clingy today, mhm?" his touch immediately went away. "noooo~ come back, mr. clingy man!"

"okay, stop this, don't call me those names,"

"i asked you which name would you want me to call you, mr. grumpy man..."

"call me baby, okay?! call me darling, sweetie even cupcake, i don't care," your boyfriend spoke impatiently. "now let me sleep, woman."

"eh? woman?"

"baby... baby, let your boyfriend rest, 'kay?"

"okay, you can sleep..." you squinted your eyes. "call me woman one more time and you'll be called mr. dumped man!"

bonus scene! ⭑

"[...] AND I TOLD HER! BUT then she was like: "i don't know about any of that bullshit", and i was like-"

"yeah, right," casually, sunghoon places his hands on both of your shoulders and move you to the other side of the sidewalk. "...and then?" noticing you subtle silence, he continued, wanting to know about what was going on with your friend.

"um... and i was like..."

"you were like...?"

"you did it again!"

"you told her that?"

"no! you did this again," you looked down at the pavement.

"paid attention? what?" poor sunghoon, got confused about what you meant.

"the sidewalk thing!" you were trying to make him figure out what you were talking about a few days ago.

"oh? did i?" he checked himself, slowly figuring it out.

"yes, you did," you nodded while smiling.

holding a big smile, he scrunched his nose and cleaning his throat. "anyway, tell me what you really told her then, baby."

© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆ 24.

[darquette]

REAL MAN ，lhs

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄, 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌

𝟏𝐎𝟑𝟕𝒾──── downbad!heeseung 𝗑 f!rea ✿ fluff 𓂋 mention of alcohol kissing skinship ❞ 𝒄𝒂���𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ｡ ⠀

rbs ！ ✶ 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦 for @yeokii ◜ ᴗ ◝

you never realized how heavy heeseung was until tonight.

“t—thank you,” he giggles when you throw him on the bed.

you stretch, having his arm around your shoulder and his entire weight on you during fifteen minutes wasn’t the best time of your life.

you look down at him. his cheeks are rosy pink, his tie is askew and his shirt is missing a few buttons. he looks at you with a lovesick smile plastered on his lips.

“baby, c’mere,” he holds your wrist, pulls you on top of him in a second—the alcohol got him forgetting his strength.

you hold yourself with a hand on the matress, you sigh, “hee…”

your boyfriend runs his thumb on your lower lip in a way to shut you up.

heeseung giggles every time he speaks, “you’re so pretty,” he cups your features, gaze wandering on your face until stopping at your lips. he hiccups, “let me kiss you.

heeseung leans in. for a second, you get distracted by his breath hitting your lips. then you remember that it’s the man who drank enough to not be able to walk straight.

you turn your head to the side, “heeseung, no.”

the man’s bambi–like eyes widen, they follow you as if you were their savior, “why not?” his grip on your jaw doesn’t release a single bit.

in the contrary, before you can answer his whiny question, his other hand cups the other side of your jaw. he makes you face him once again, his face already close enough to give you a peck.

“d—do you have a boyfriend?” your literal boyfriend asks. his voice is so small and sad, it makes you break a smile. however heeseung isn’t the kind to give up on what he wants.

he leans in even more. as if you being in a relationship was a challenge he needed to overcome, “we’ll find him another girlfriend, mh?”

your mouth falls in disbelief, “what?”

heeseung groans when you get out of his grip, “what?” he hiccups. “he won’t find out!”

you get stupidly offended at his remarks, “you are my boyfriend, idiot!” heeseung seems to have been hit with a storm. you continue, getting off the bed, standing straight, “if you think i would cheat on you, you are crazy.”

heeseung catches your wrist once again before you can leave the room.

“wait,” he pulls you back to him. his expression is serious, as if he just sobered, “i’m sorry, i—i” he hiccups, “wouldn’t think i’m lucky enough to have you.”

you sit on the edge of the bed, “you’re dumb.”

heeseung looks at you, mouth falling agape. then he giggles. he hides it behind his hands but it’s still loud enough to echo in the entire room.

“i c—can be what—ever you want,” he says when he calmed down a bit, “i can even kiss you.”

“no,” you answer. voice firm.

he cups your face again, “please,” he pleads.

you let him guide you closer to his face, “heeseung, you are drunk.”

his mouth reeks of alcohol when he answers, “so what? i’m still a ve—very good kisser.”

“i’m not going to kiss you,” your protest are becoming weaker and your eyes linger in his mouth too much.

his lips brush yours, “c’mon, pretty girl,” he whispers, “just one.”

you don’t realize how easy you gave in, how quickly you let your eyes flutter shut until the peck isn’t happening anymore.

however, since heeseung is greedy like that, he can’t help but want more, “another one, please.”

you don’t answer, you let him kiss you once again. this time, the kiss last a few seconds longer then the other and you can taste the liquor remaining on his lips.

he doesn’t pull away to ask for more, “please, just one last kiss.”

heeseung often gets hungry when drunk. you think he is starving right now. the kiss he gives you is beyond eager and passionate— as if his waited his entire life to kiss you this way.

it makes your stomach twist with nothing but pure satisfaction while heeseung’s eyes brow furrows and pulse gets higher.

he tilts your head to the side to kiss you even better. if you weren’t halfway laying on him, you think your legs would simply give in.

the kiss makes you wonder why you even refused in the first place.

heeseung giggles when he pulls away makes you remember immediately. you groan, mentally scolding yourself for being so easy.

“no—no wait,” heeseung hiccups when he feels you pulling away once again.

“why did you even drink so much?”

“the guys said i wasn’t a real man if i couldn’t handle alcohol,” he pouts, “and wanted to be a real man, for you.”

your mouth is stuck open. such a stupid reason. such a lovely gesture. it makes you like him even more.

“you are such an idiot, really,” you laugh.

heeseung’s giggles may be your favorite thing in the world, “i love you.”

the world stops. your smile drops slowly. processing the information makes your brain work in a hurry. it’s a big deal: your drunk boyfriend telling you he loves you for the first time.

“huh?” is your answer. you are not sure if you heard that correctly.

“i said, i love you,” he repeats. very sure of himself. sounding as sober as ever. “i may be drunk, not able to walk, stumble over my words and giggle a lot, i know that i love you.”

you stay silent for a minute.

“i will tell you again tomorrow, and the after and for how long you let me stay by your side,” he continues, eyes staring into your soul. “you are not obligated to say anything back—”

your lips seals his. he sighs against your lips, sounding desperate, kissing back like the three kisses you exchanged a few minutes before never happened.

“i love you,” you say against his lips.

“i love you,” he repeats. then kisses you again. “i love you,” kiss. “i love you, i love you,” kiss. “i love you, i love you, i love you...”

he is soon indulging in his glee and his giggles take over you too.

maybe it’s the love he carries for you that makes him so heavy.

분지 ܃ ( early ) happy birthday hana ♥︎ i love you mwah !

taglist open 。

[darquette]

LOSER IN LOVE ⋆˚࿔ BUT YOU LIKE IT, RIGHT?

pair loser!jake x hot!reader ͡ ͘◡ ꫶᳝᳜᳝᳜᳝᳜৯ tags size kink, domestic fluff, jake is clingy, soft dom! jake, jake is lwk a himbo ✿ scene living with jake means bad cooking, clingy cuddles, and sex that’s way too good for someone who doesn’t know what a dom is. but he loves you stupid, and its the best part ────── library ⊹ ࣪

like + reblog appreciated <3 click to join taglist

LIVING TOGETHER ⋆˚࿔ jake & his dumb shenanigans

✿ loser!jake who puts your expensive perfume in the fridge because he heard “scents last longer that way,” and then acts smug when you say it actually worked. He’s like, “See? I’m smart sometimes,” while holding your toothbrush upside down over the sink.

✿ loser!jake who sits crisscross on the floor while you do your makeup, staring at you like you’re doing magic. “What’s that one do?” he asks every product. You tell him the same thing every time. He never remembers.

✿ loser!jake who forgets to defrost the chicken, so he just cuts up hot dogs and puts them in mac and cheese like it’s a Michelin-star meal. You eat it anyway. He beams. “You love my cooking, huh?”

✿ loser!jake who insists on doing laundry but turns your lingerie pink, shrinks your skirt, and still has the audacity to be proud because “At least I folded it all.”

✿ loser!jake who walks around the apartment shirtless, thinks he looks normal, but the sweats are hanging way too low, the hair’s fluffy from a towel-dry, and the veins in his arms pop whenever he opens a jar for you. He has no idea why your knees go weak.

✿ loser!jake who cuddles into you so tight at night you can’t even roll over, muttering, “no…don’t leave, it’s cold,” with his nose smushed into your shoulder and his morning wood poking your ass like it’s not 6:13 am.

IN THE BED ⋆˚࿔ yes he IS a freak in the sheets

✿ loser!jake who can’t tell you what a dom is but still pins your wrists with one hand while his other slides under your shirt like it’s muscle memory. Whines in your ear like he’s the one being ruined.

✿ loser!jake who doesn’t get why your eyes roll back every time he goes deep. “Wait…is that a good face or a bad one?” he whispers, staying balls deep because your body keeps squeezing him too tight to move.

✿ loser!jake who is obsessed with your tits. Will literally start pouting if you cover them. “Nooo don’t hide,” he mumbles, mouth already latched to one while rutting into you slow, saying dumb shit like “they’re so soft. like little clouds.”

✿ loser!jake who genuinely apologizes every time you cum too hard. “Was that too much? I didn’t mean to make you cry…fuck, baby, I just wanted to feel good, not break you..oh my god.”

✿ loser!jake who never really talks dirty but blurts the filthiest things out in the heat of the moment like “I love your little hole, it’s so warm in there” and doesn’t realize what he’s said until you repeat it. He blushes so bad he forgets to keep thrusting.

✿ loser!jake who goes so long thinking he’s average until one day you physically can’t fit all of him and you’re whining for a break. He stares down, all wide-eyed, “wait, you’ve never needed to stop before?” then looks way too proud after.

✿ loser!jake who pants your name like a prayer, holds your thighs wide and keeps whispering “thank you, thank you, thank you” into your skin like getting to be inside you is some kind of miracle.

LOVES YOU STUPID ⋆˚࿔ even if he thinks ur out of his league

✿ loser!jake who buys you matching keychains shaped like frogs because “you like cute stuff,” and grins every time you put yours on a different purse.

✿ loser!jake who always brags about you like, “my girlfriend? she’s literally hotter than every girl on Instagram,” then shows his friends a blurry selfie of you in pajamas like it’s solid proof.

✿ loser!jake who kisses your cheek so many times you have to push him away when you’re getting ready, and he always goes, “Okay, okay..just one more,” and steals three while giggling.

✿ loser!jake who gets pouty when you’re busy. “What do you mean you’re working?” he mumbles, tugging your sleeve. “I’m right here. I’m bored. Just look at me. I’ll sit still. Please?”

✿ loser!jake who blurts out “I love you” when you’re literally just walking to the fridge. Says it like he can’t help it. Like it hits him fresh every time he looks at you. “I love you. Like, a lot. It’s actually crazy.”

✿ loser!jake who gets angry if someone flirts with you but doesn’t know how to act on it. Just clings to you harder, puffs his chest a little, and later grumbles, “You’re mine, y’know. I’ll fight someone. Like, I could. Probably.”

✿ loser!jake who lies on your stomach while you scroll your phone, pressing his ear to your skin to hear the noises it makes. “There’s like, a lil song in there,” he mumbles. “It’s your tummy symphony.”

[darquette]

Nishimura Riki - headcannons

Designs your nails and LOVES doing it for you. 

As you know, man’s artistic as HELL so, it's only right that he does your nail designs. You just give him a plain nail template opened on your tablet, and he gets into action. In the starting of your relationship when you asked him if he could design your nails for the first time, he was surprised but he immediately nodded with his round eyes looking up at you.  

Then later on, when you didn't ask him to design them for you (because he was tired and you didn't want to bother him) he insisted- no begged to let him design them for you. He said, and i quote, “Let me do them for you baby, you know it’ll turn out bad when your genius of a boyfriend isn't designing them.”  

Though he may act like he’s tired of designing your nails, he LOVES it. No matter what he’s doing, how busy he is, he’ll drop everything and design your nails for you. He’ll even add his initials somewhere in the design because he just loves being yours and you being his. 

2. Asks for a kiss before helping you. 

Oh you want that cereal which is on the top shelf? A kiss. You forgot to bring your towel into the bathroom and you need him to get it for you? A kiss. You want him to bring you a hot cup of tea after a long day? Kiss.  

Whatever you want from him- you'll get it but only with a kiss ofc. 

For instance, you’re laying on the couch watching a series that's got you hooked on alongside with Niki beside you with his leg on yours. You feel the need to drink water after gobbling down all the popcorn. As you move your gaze away from the screen, in search of water bottle, you notice that it's beside Niki. You nudge him with your elbow asking for the water bottle, he momentarily turns his gaze to see you and then takes the water bottle in his hand.  

But here’s the catch, before you can take it, he pulls his hand back and leans his face closer to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, clearly asking for a kiss. You chuckle and peck his lips, satisfied, Niki smiles and gives the bottle to you.  

3. Sends voice recordings when he’s away 

You are the only person he yaps to. Seriously, you are his personal, real-life diary. He shares everything with you, all from his embarrassing childhood moments to his deepest darkest desires. He doesn't feel weird or embarrassed while doing so because why would he be? You are his safe person, and he trusts you. Just like how you do with him. 

And so, when he’s away, he always sends voice recordings of him speaking about anything and everything. Right from, “Good morning, babe” to “Today was so tiring but seeing engenes definitely made me feel better”  

He shares everything. his struggles, his happiness, his amusement he faced while being in completely different countries and states. Your contact is like a cute little documentation of him yapping on and on about how the weather was too hot, how his room service food was bland and how much he misses you.  

There are constant sighs when he’s talking about you- about your presence. “It’s so exhausting, I just wish you were here.”  He says with so much desperation but ends it by saying, “I love you, angel. Sleep well.” knowing you’re probably asleep due to the different time zones.  

He misses you a little extra hard when you reply with voice recordings of your own, he constantly says I love you and ends it every time with a kiss pressed into the mic of his phone.  

4. Your space is his space. 

He absolutely hates being away from you. You literally are like oxygen for him. So, he doesn't want to stay away from you even for a second. He’s constantly in your space, sitting too close to you or clinging onto your side like a koala.  

Normally when you both are in public, he doesn't show pda and just sticks to holding your hand and pecking you. And you don't mind it because you know that not showing pda doesn't equal to him not loving you. Because its exactly the opposite when you both are alone.  

He craves for your touch. He just needs to be close to you even if it's just you both sitting together scrolling on your phones. To him, what matters is that he’s close enough to you that you both can feel each other's presence.  

And just one little complaint about how your hand is sore because he put his whole-body weight on it, he’ll give you the most offending, heart-breaking reaction to you with betrayal written all over his face. “You don't want me, right?  You don't love me anymore, do you?”  

5. Draws on your hand.  

Take note that if you sit beside him while he’s sketching on a book that your hand isn't yours. Infact your hand isn't a hand, it's his canvas. He gently takes a hold of your hand and draws beautiful and small art on it.  

There are, ofcourse many hearts on it along with his name etched on your skin with the ink of the pen. He just loves doodling on your hand and thinks it's the most beautiful and best canvas ever. You don't mind it either, especially when he’s drawing small masterpiece on your, well normal hand. Sometimes his art turns out so good, you want to get a tattoo of it.  

You even told him that, if you ever get a tattoo, you’ll a tattoo of his art which ofcourse made him beam with joy and kiss you passionately. “Really?? Then I'll get a similar one so, we’ll be matching!”  

6. Talks to you when you’re asleep. 

Ok, not that he’s creepy or anything but when you are sleeping beside him, a sudden wave of realization hits him. That you are actually here, with him. He so down bad for you it's insane and he thanks God every day because he doesn't know what he’ll do without you.  

He just believes that he got lucky with you because how did an angel like you fall for him? He just looks at you stupidly soft when your eyes are closed and your breathe steady. Sometimes he talks to himself, “wow. she’s really mine?? Tf.” and other times talks to you when you are asleep. 

Like, “I don't know, I want to be with you for a long time- forever. I feel safe around you baby.” and ends it with, “You know I love you right?” then he kissed your head, then your cheek and then finally your neck and keeps his head there, drifting off to sleep. 

7. Showers with you. 

Now, not like a sexual one, just quiet, warm, emotionally safe. The kind where it’s just you, him, and the water running... like the world doesn’t exist for a few minutes. 

He’s quiet in the shower, but he’s always holding you — an arm around your back, your forehead against his shoulder, his hand gently brushing water through your hair. It’s not about talking, it’s about presence. 

He takes care of everything without making a big deal out of it. Pumps shampoo into your hand. Holds your towel open when you step out. Gently dries your hair with a tee because he knows your scalp’s sensitive to rough towels. 

The steam makes him even softer somehow. He speaks in a quieter tone, like loudness doesn’t belong in this moment. 

“Close your eyes, I’ll rinse it for you.” 

Afterwards, he lets you wear his comfiest hoodie (the worn-out one he never lets anyone else touch) and pulls you into bed with damp hair and all. 

He never treats showering together as a performance — to him, it’s just a deeply gentle, intimate kind of comfort. 

8. Doesn't sleep without you 

Niki’s the type who wakes up to even the tiniest movement.  You shift a little? Pull the blanket up? Try to sneak to the bathroom quietly?  His arm instantly wraps tighter around your waist.  Voice low, all sleepy and confused: 

“Where are you going…?”  “No. Come back.” 

Even when he’s half-asleep, his instincts scream “hug her or perish.”  He doesn’t even open his eyes properly—just blindly reaches out, grabs your arm or your shirt, pulls you back into his chest like a possessive little koala.  No mercy. He’s not dramatic about it. He doesn’t even realize he does it.  He’ll wake up in the morning completely wrapped around you, limbs tangled, face in your neck…  

Once he’s fully asleep, he becomes impossible to peel off.  You try to untangle yourself and he just tightens his grip like muscle memory. 

“Five more minutes.”  (You’ve been there for three hours.) 

Also, he gently rubs his thumb on your arm in his sleep without even knowing. Like his body’s making sure you’re still there. 

9. Shows cool tricks all the time 

Niki has this unspoken rule with himself:  If he knows how to do something cool, you HAVE to see it.  Doesn't matter if it's dancing, solving a Rubik’s cube, flipping a pen, opening a soda can in a weird way— 

“Babe. Look.” (does triple spin)  “Sick, right?”  

You could be trying to study, and he’s just on the other side of the room spinning a water bottle perfectly on the table.  You look over and he grins like a kid who just got an A+ without studying. 

“Tell me that wasn’t smooth.” 

Does the most randomest tricks too. Like one time he threw his cap in the air and ducked his head so that the cap landed on his head. 

Absolutely the boyfriend who teaches you random tricks too.  How to shuffle cards, moonwalk, do a footwork step—  And if you mess up? 

“Nooo, not like that.”  Gets up, shows you ten more times.  Then claps like a proud coach when you get it right. 

The moment he finds out you’re watching him dance, he goes 10x harder.  Acts like he’s just messing around, but that footwork is clean. 

“What? I was just warming up.”  (Sir. That was a full concert.) 

Even if it’s the smallest thing—like stacking snacks in a perfect tower—he’ll tilt his head, step back, cross his arms like: 

“I’m a genius. 

But when you show him something cool? He gets SO competitive. 

“Okay now watch me do it better.”  (He says it jokingly, but he must win. It’s law.) 

Deep down? He just wants to see you laugh and get impressed.  He never really asks for compliments—but the second you say, 

“You’re so good at that…”  He tries to act chill but his whole chest is glowing. 

©mrsjjongstby all writing belong to me. do not copy, modify or repost my works.

taglist: @gnarlyhoons @stormlit-pages @himynameisraelynn @see-c (lmk if u wanna be added!)

A/N: ok.......... long fic will be posted soon but until then, here's a little something for y'all! stay hydrated!

[darquette]

˖*°࿐ •*⁀➷ 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧!

➜ summary: you just moved into a new building, right across from three loud guys. two said sorry and the third couldn’t care less.

pairing: pshx f!reader,wc: 14k words , genre: enemies to lovers ish, neighbor!au, fluff, romcom w: rude jokes, cussing, kissing

The elevator doors swung open, and soon you stepped out into the third floor hallway. You looked like you were moving in, which in your defense…you were. The oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder, arms hugging a stack of takeout containers and a cactus you had that had pricked you far too many times, but that didn’t matter. You were finally on your own.

Unit 3B. That was you now. 

Your keys jingled in your palm as you found the door, nudged it open with one knee, and stepped into the apartment you’d stared at for months on rental listings. It wasn’t huge, but it had a little kitchen with enough space for your mum’s rice cooker, and a balcony that caught the sun in the morning. You spun around in the centre of the room, grinning, almost knocking the cactus you had just placed on the counter in the process.

And by nightfall, the place felt like yours. Your fairy lights were strung up across your living room. Your fridge held exactly a bottle of soda, some tuna you had eaten an hour ago and a bag of unwashed grapes. You lit a vanilla candle, the one your best friend, Jungwon, made you promise to use so you'd remember him… even while being so far apart.  But Jungwon hated travelling, so in his mind, you'd basically moved to another continent. 

Jungwon dramatically declared, “You’re practically moving to another country.”

“Jungwon, I’m literally a two-hour train ride away.”

“That’s basically Europe.”

You rolled your eyes at the memory, smiling to yourself.

Still, you were glad you’d made the decision to move. Three years ahead of you… of being on your own, of learning to be independent, part-time jobs, and what you hoped…a future incoming relationship. It should be easy. It should be peaceful. It should be—

“DUDE!!!”

A scream ripped through your wall.

It came from the wall to your right, a thin wall nudged between you and your neighbours. You could hear celebrations. A voice shouted, “THAT WAS INSANE!” followed by a loud thump like someone had jumped off the sofa.

You tried ignoring it at first, burying yourself under the blanket like it could block out noise. But 20 minutes in, another screamed “HE’S OFFSIDE, YOU DUMB—” loud enough to rattle the walls, you snapped.

You threw on your hoodie, jammed your feet into slippers, and marched out the front door like you were storming a battlefield. The hallway was dim and quiet, except for the muffled party behind door 3C. You knocked, hard, but polite.

The door creaked open mid-laughter, revealing three guys mid-snack, mid-game.

“Hi,” you said, tight smile. “Sorry to bother you, but… would you mind keeping it down a little? I’ve got a test tomorrow and it’s kinda hard to focus with all the screaming.”

The one with fluffy hair, cute little eyes, nodded immediately. “Shit. Sorry, sorry. Totally our bad.”

Another one, long lashes and a goofy smile, actually winced. “Didn’t realise it was that loud. We’ll keep it down, promise.”

“Are you new here?” the first one asked.

You nodded. “I just moved in today, actually.”

“Oh shit. Mrs Kim moved out?”

“Damn, we’re not getting her kimchi anymore, that’s for sure.”

“We gotta eat those store-bought ones that taste like ass.”

The second boy looked at you again, more focused this time. “Oh right! I’m Jake! It’s great to meet you! I’m sorry it happened under… unfortunate circumstances. But we’ll be quieter!”

“I’m Jay, by the way,” the first one added with a small grin, pushing his hair back.

You nodded, smiling slightly. At least they were nice about it. Well, two out of three, anyway.

You glanced past both of them, eyes landing on the third boy slouched on the couch, still holding the controller, gaze fixed on the paused screen like you weren’t even there. His jaw clenched once. No name. No hello. Just a subtle, annoyed glance in your direction before he looked away again.

Cool. So he hates you. That’s cool with you.

The third guy didn’t say anything. Just glanced at you once, then turned back toward the TV.

“Uh, thanks,” you said, lips tight, already backing away.

You returned to your apartment and for a blessed thirty minutes, it was quiet.

Then someone scored a goal and the wall shook again.

You blinked slowly at your ceiling, arms folded under your head like the weight of your patience was finally starting to crush your ribs. Okay. So that’s how it was going to be. You frowned.

And that was literally… how war started.

The next morning, fuelled by petty vengeance and two hours of sleep, you grabbed your pastel pink sticky notes and wrote:

“Dear 3C, I’ve played FIFA before. It is not that damn fun for you to be out here screaming. Please tone it down. Regards, the zombie in 3B.”

You slapped it on their door. Nothing changed.

And the next day:

“Dear 3C, I can’t sleep. Kindly shut up <3 With love, the girl one more sleepless night away from writing to the landlord. 3B.”

You half expected them to ignore it. Instead, you found your note missing by mid-afternoon. Gone. 

For a moment, you felt powerful. Maybe they’d actually listened.

Then 8:43 p.m. hit and someone in 3C scored a goal so loud you swore the bass from their TV made your candle flicker.

Alright. So it was personal now.

You stormed over to their door again, hands on your hips.. It wasn’t that late. You weren’t unreasonable. You believed in joy. In freedom. But right now? Rage was the only thing pumping through your system.

You shuffled down the hall with your bunny slippers slapping against the floor, hair in a claw clip that was giving up. You looked deranged. And for the first time, you were fine with that. You banged on their door.

The door cracked open a second later, revealing Jake blinking like a deer in headlights. His hair was messy. He looked mildly afraid.

“Were… we being loud again?”

You stared at him, deadpan. “Ya think?”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, okay. I’m so sorry. It’s Sunghoon. He keeps saying it’s not that loud and we were mid-tournament and—”

“Tell Sunghoon that his ego’s not the only thing echoing through these walls,” you snapped, arms crossed. “Some of us are trying to study.”

Behind Jake, you heard a familiar scoff followed by a smug voice yelling, “God, she’s so annoying. We were literally whispering.”

You leaned to the side, locking eyes with the third boy slouched on the couch, controller in hand, feet on the coffee table like the world owed him something. He didn’t even pause the game this time.

You didn’t know what it was about his stupidly symmetrical face but your blood boiled.

“Tell this Sunghoon guy…his whispering sounds like a screeching cat,” you said flatly, before spinning on your heel and marching back toward your door when you heard his aggravating voice.

“Tell her she’s overreacting over a couple of friends simply trying to have fun,” Sunghoon fired back from the couch, not even raising his voice. 

You turned your head just enough to glare over your shoulder. “Well, tell him, his shirt doesn’t match his fucking pants.”

Jake looked helpless, standing between you both like a middle child caught in a divorce.

And then, with that same bored tone, Sunghoon called out again, “Well, tell her… those slippers are the best thing she’s worn all week.”

You stopped.

Jake sucked in a breath.

You slowly turned, eyes narrowing. “Tell him he wouldn’t know good fashion if it came with a user manual and punched him in his freaking face.”

Sunghoon finally glanced away from the TV, meeting your eyes for the first time that night. His lips curved into the most irritating half-smile you’d ever seen.

“Tell her–”

Jake stepped in between again, hands raised. “Okay! Okay. We’re gonna turn the volume down. Like, way down. Like you can’t even hear us tiptoe. Right, Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon leaned back against the couch and shrugged. “Whatever. I’m not the one annoying my neighbors at 9pm on a Friday night. Get some friends.” 

You slammed your door shut.

War was back on.

-

The next morning, your plan was simple. A little petty, sure, but necessary.

You stood outside their door in your pyjamas, holding a fresh pack of neon yellow Post-its since your previous ones were used up by the ongoing Post-It war.The hallway was empty. Your bunny slippers made no sound as you padded up to 3C and stuck the first one of the week dead-centre on the door.

“Dear 3C, just a gentle reminder that FIFA will not feed you, clothe you, or give you money. Kindly shut up. PLEASE. Warmest regards, 3B.”

You smiled to yourself and floated back to your apartment.

That night? For the first time…? Silence. Beautiful, blissful silence. You actually managed to revise two chapters and fall asleep before midnight. You woke up in the morning feeling like a changed woman.

But then you opened your front door.

There, taped neatly to your door, was a blue sticky note with surprisingly neat handwriting.

“Dear 3B, you sound like you narrate your life out loud. – 3C.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Narrate your life out loud?” you muttered. “That’s literally called thinking.”

You marched back into your apartment, flung open your stationery drawer.

“Dear 3C, apologies if my internal monologue disrupted your daily FIFA championship. I only talk to myself because your volume settings make it impossible to hear my own thoughts. With all due respect (and ear damage), 3B."

That afternoon, Jay knocked on your door. You hesitated, then opened it a crack. He was holding a bag of convenience store pancakes in one hand.

“Peace offering,” he said. “Also, I think your notes are hilarious. Jake’s been collecting them. I think he’s making a scrapbook.”

You blinked. “Is this a joke or something?”

Jay shrugged, leaning casually against the doorframe. “No! Honestly, it’s kinda refreshing.”

Jake popped his head in from behind, grinning. “Also, your handwriting’s really neat.”

You opened the door a little wider, cautious then shrugged. “You want some… uh… spaghetti? I made it this morning.”

“Spaghetti?” Jay tilted his head.

You nodded. “Yeah. I usually experiment with food. I’m…uh…in culinary school.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “Wait, so you’re like… a chef?”

“Trying to be.,” you said with a shrug, suddenly a little self-conscious.

They exchanged a quick look before barging in like you'd personally handed them invites at the door.

“That’s so cool,” Jake said, practically bouncing as he flopped onto your beanbag. “I burnt instant noodles last week. Twice.”

Jay wandered deeper into your living room, his gaze landing on the dusty old guitar leaning against your bookshelf. “Dude, check it out! She plays the guitar.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, awkward. “It’s just for fun. I’m not that good.”

“I’m sure you’re great,” Jake said, already chewing through a mouthful of spaghetti he’d somehow found, and served himself in a bowl you didn’t remember offering.

You blinked at him. “Did you just—?”

“Plate was right there,” he said through a mouthful. “I took it as a sign.”

Jay nodded solemnly. “She feeds us and plays guitar. She’s better than Mrs. Kim already.”

You sighed and closed the door behind them. “I’m starting to think Mrs. Kim left because of the three of you.”

In between bites, Jake nodded without hesitation. “I think so too.”

“We can be loud,” Jay added, helping himself to another serving.

“Have you thought of… not being loud?”

“We do,” Jay said. “But then we get loud again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Guys, some of us have school and—”

“We have school too,” Jake chimed in, mouth full.

“Okay… some of us care about sleep.”

Jay perked up. “That’s why we got you this.”

He dug into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a tiny box, dropping it into your hands.

You squinted at it. “What’s this?”

“They’re sleep buds,” he said proudly. “They go in your ears and play white noise and, like… ocean sounds or something. Blocks everything out. Even us.”

You stared at the box, then at them.

“Instead of compromising, you got me gear?”

Jake grinned. “Yeah. We like you. We want you to be able to sleep… through us.”

Jay gave you a thumbs-up. “It’s called adaptation.”

You looked down at the sleep buds in your hands and then back up at the two of them absolutely inhaling your spaghetti like they hadn’t eaten in weeks.

You didn’t know whether to kick them out or thank them.

So you just sighed, defeated. “You guys are the weirdest neighbours I’ve ever had.”

Jake beamed. “Aww. You’re the weirdest too.”

And somehow… the next day… they were back.

You opened the door mid-knock, confused, only to find Jay grinning at you.

“What’s for lunch today, boss?” he asked, already halfway through the doorway.

You blinked. “How’d you know I made something?”

“We could smell it,” Jake said, stepping in right behind him, holding up a comically large spoon. “Smells so good. Brought my big spoon today. Came prepared.”

“Uh… I made chowder?”

Jake’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, I love chowder.”

Jay had already plopped onto the floor cushion, flipping through your Spotify like he owned your iPad. “What kind? Clam? Corn? Pumpkin? Wait… do people put pumpkin in chowder?”

You stared at them, ladle in hand.

“Corn,” you muttered, shuffling back into the kitchen.

Then the day after that… they came again. At this point, it felt less like a surprise and more like a recurring appointment.

“No fucking way. Kimchi stew? This shit is so good!. Jay, you need to try the beef. It’s so soft. How— how’d you get it so soft? Is this like one of those expensive beef? Wakoo?”

“It’s Wagyu, Jake.” You corrected.

“Wagyu~” He sang.

Jay, already mid-bite, nodded with a full mouth. “Can I havefth thefth reshepee?”

You wiped your hands on a dish towel, leaning against the counter with one brow raised. “Do you guys ever eat in your own apartment?”

Jake didn’t miss a beat. “Not when you cook like this.”

Jay pointed his chopsticks at you like he was making a closing argument in court. “This is technically your fault. You fed us once. That’s basically a binding contract. We’re best friends now. Aren’t we, Jake?”

Jake nodded, mouth full. “Mhmff. Whatever he said.”

You sighed, setting your elbow on the table and dropping your chin into your hand. “If you’re gonna keep doing this, at least wash the dishes after.”

Jake saluted you with his spoon like you were the captain of a very tiny, soup-based army. “Yes, chef.”

You looked at the two of them, one already on his third helping, the other stealing more beef straight from the pot, and shook your head.

This wasn’t how your independent, put-together, college life was supposed to go. You were meant to be focused. The mysterious girl on the third floor who only ever came out for groceries and exams.

But maybe… with the two of them barging in uninvited, eating like they hadn’t seen food in years, and treating your living room like it was theirs…

Maybe you wouldn’t feel so lonely after all.

-

It was 9 p.m. Strangely quiet.

Usually, by now, there’d be at least one goal celebration shaking the walls or someone shouting about a missed penalty. But tonight? Nothing. You didn’t let it bother you. You took it as a win.

The balcony door slid open with a soft scrape. You stepped out into the cool night, cradling your little scissors and spray bottle like sacred tools. Your succulents were arranged in a neat line. A few leaves had started to curl. You knelt down, snipping the dead ends carefully.

You should’ve felt peaceful.

But tonight, something tugged at your chest. 

You missed Jungwon. You missed your mom’s mismatched cutlery and the way your dad always forgot he’d already asked about your grades. Maybe even your pet fish, the one that never did much except float around looking confused.

Jay and Jake were friendly, sure. But they weren’t yours. They weren’t part of your before. They didn’t know the town you came from or the versions of you that existed before now.

And even though you thought you’d settled in... even though you were coping...you were lonely.

Without meaning to, you started speaking out loud — just like you always did.

“It’s fine. You’ll do better tomorrow. Tomorrow you won’t feel as lonely,” you said softly as you misted the leaves. “You’ll be stronger. You’re gonna get used to this. You can do it.”

But the lie caught in your throat.

Because you were crying already.

You wiped your cheek with the sleeve of your hoodie, frustrated, betrayed by your own body. You reached for your phone without thinking and hit the contact you swore you wouldn’t keep calling every time you got overwhelmed.

Jungwon answered on the first ring.

“What’s up?” he asked, casual as ever.

“Won…” you breathed out.

There was a pause. Then: “Are you crying?”

“No?”

“I can hear you sniffling, you shit.”

“It’s just—” your voice cracked. “It’s hard. I’m alone all the time. I’ve got no friends. I’ve got no one to talk to. I’m alone, Won.”

“I know,” he said gently. “I know…”

There was a pause. You could hear him shifting in bed, his voice soft and serious now. “But think about it this way, okay? You’re barely in your first month. You’re gonna get used to it. You’re gonna find people. You’re gonna build something here. It just takes time.”

You bit your lip. “You’ll visit if you can, right?”

“I’ll visit,” he promised. “Even if it takes two bloody hours.”

“But you hate traveling.”

“For you, I’d suffer.”

You sniffled. “You’re just saying that so I’ll hang up.”

“You’re right because I’m exhausted from basketball. But also… I love you.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. “I love you too.”

“Chin up. You’re talented and you deserve to be there. You can do this. We’re all counting on you.”

“I know.” You exhaled slowly. “Goodnight, Wonnie.”

“Night.”

You ended the call and sat in silence for a moment, letting the cool night air settle on your skin. The tears had stopped. Your hands still smelled like mint and basil and the faint sweetness of the spray bottle. You stared at your succulents, wondering if they ever got lonely too.

Unbeknownst to you, just a few feet away, out on the connected balcony, hidden by the divider, someone had heard everything.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He’d stepped out earlier, just needing air, needing quiet, needing to be somewhere still for once. And then he’d heard your voice. The words that were not meant for anyone else.

And for the first time, Sunghoon didn’t roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment.

He just stood there in the dark, one hand gripping the railing, heart a little heavier than before.

He understood more than you thought.

And somewhere between your tears and Jungwon’s voice, he changed his mind about you.

-

The next few days, there was absolute silence. Maybe the food had finally worked some psychological warfare on Jay and Jake. Maybe it was their way of returning the favour. Either way, you weren’t about to question it.

You were grateful, to say the least.

Because for the past week, you’d been moping around your apartment. Living alone and striking out as an “independent bachelorette” sounded empowering in theory, but in practice? Maybe you weren’t one of those girlies after all…y’know the ones on Instagram who made solitude look like a season of self-discovery instead of a series of breakdowns.

It was Saturday. You’d spent the entire morning in bed watching a Netflix documentary about some guy swindling people on Tinder, surrounded by crumpled tissue and scented candle smoke that had long turned suffocating. You were still in yesterday’s hoodie, blanket tangled around your legs.

Three knocks echoed at the door.

You lifted your head from the pillow with a groan, barely alive. The sound came again.

Dragging yourself across the living room, you cracked the door open just a sliver, just wide enough to peek through but not enough to reveal the disaster that was your face, your hair, or your pride.

“Uh.” The voice was hesitant. Familiar.

You squinted.

Sunghoon.

You blinked. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice hoarse from crying and a full night of narrating your own spiral.

“There was a mix-up with the mail,” he said, holding up a small stack of envelopes.

“Oh.” You extended your arm awkwardly through the tiny gap in the door and grabbed the letters. “Thanks.”

There was a pause, “I can see your puffy eyes through the gap.”

You scoffed, immediately pulling the door closer. “You just have to be a smartass about everything, don’t you?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Still standing there. 

“…Are Jake and Jay home?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

His expression twitched, almost amused. “Why? Trying to steal my best friends again or—”

“No,” you deadpanned. “I was just wondering. It’s been… quiet this whole week.”

“They went home to visit their families.”

Oh. Right. Come to think of it, maybe that explained why everything felt extra heavy lately. It was the time of year people usually went home. People surrounded themselves with comfort and familiarity. And here you were, stuck in the city because the train ticket home was just slightly out of budget.

“You didn’t go?” you asked softly.

“Can’t,” he shrugged.

“Oh.”

There was a beat of silence. Then he tilted his head.

“Well,” Sunghoon said slowly, “if you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a rat’s nest, you know where to find me.”

The words came with the usual venom but the message behind them landed differently.

You stared at him through the gap in the door. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be funny, or… sincere, in his own weird, backhanded way. It was strange. You’d only had  three full conversations with the guy. And every single one ended in a WWE tournament.

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Are you… being nice to me?”

He clicked his tongue. “Don’t ruin it.”

And with that, he turned and walked back.

-

You finally got up.

There was no movie-worthy breakthrough moment. Just the dull ache in your head from crying too much and the feeling that if you shed one more tear, your eyeballs might actually eject themselves from their sockets. So you moved. You stripped your bed, tossed the mountain of tissues into a trash bag, sprayed half a bottle of disinfectant in the air, and opened every window.

Your apartment looked like it had survived an apocalypse, which, to be fair, was accurate. But you scrubbed it back to life.

By the time you were in the kitchen, your eyes were still a little swollen, but you’d pressed them with cool spoons and a sad little compress until you could see straight again. Kind of.

You pulled out ingredients from your fridge one by one, lining them up like you were preparing for war. Slicing, boiling, julienning, stir-frying. The sound of the pan crackling beneath the glass noodles filled the silence of your apartment. It smelled exactly like it did when your mom used to make it.

You plated it in a wide, shallow bowl. It was delicious. Of course it was. You took pride in it. You always had. Jungwon used to tease you, calling your hands “blessed by Gordon Ramsay” like everything you touched turned into comfort food. You’d swat his arm, trying not to smile as he reached for second helpings before you’d even sat down.

You missed him. You missed your family. You missed not having to eat alone on a day like this.

Your eyes drifted to the door.

Would it be stupid? To bring food to Sunghoon? You’d never really done anything kind for him. Most of your interactions were lined with sarcasm and insults. And yet… that one line of his kept replaying in your head, “If you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a rat’s nest, you know where to find me.”

So maybe…maybe he meant it. Or maybe you were just desperate for company and your noodles were starting to get cold.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you packed the noodles into a clean container, wrapped a rubber band around it, and found yourself standing in front of 3C. Your feet had walked you here without permission. Your hand hovered in the air, ready to knock, but now… you hesitated. You weren’t here to complain. You weren’t here to yell. And that made it harder.

And just before your knuckles could land on the door, it swung open.

Sunghoon stood in front of you, coat already on, scarf looped lazily around his neck. There was a little shine to his hair like he’d styled it, and he looked surprised, mildly confused to find you on his doorstep without any anger evident in your eyes.

“What?” he said, voice dry.

You blinked, staring at him. You’d never really looked at him properly before. Not when he was this put-together. The gel in his hair, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his scarf sat slightly off-center like he’d thrown it on in a rush. You knew he was attractive. You weren’t blind. But seeing him now?

Sunghoon was actually… pretty handsome.

“I—uh—” you stammered.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Spit it out.”

“I—uh—I made some… stir-fried glass noodles,” you said, stumbling over every syllable. “And I know how much it sucks being alone on a day like this, so I thought… maybe it’d bring you some kind of familiarity. From home, or something.”

You didn’t let yourself overthink it. You shoved the container into his hands, heart pounding.

“Bye,” you mumbled, before immediately turning around and marching back to your apartment like you’d just robbed a bank. The door clicked shut behind you.

You pressed your back to it, eyes wide.

Shit.

Was Sunghoon actually hot?

-

Sunghoon stood in the hallway, unmoving. The container in his hands was warm and he stared down at it for a couple of seconds longer than he probably should’ve.

Jake and Jay had been raving about your cooking for weeks. At first, he thought they were exaggerating. How good could someone’s food be that it made two of the loudest people he knew voluntarily whisper through a FIFA match?

But he’d seen it with his own eyes, Jake silently fist-pumping the air, mouthing “LET’S FUCKING GO” after a goal, and Jay barely reacting as he scored. They even created a rule: first one to speak puts a dollar in the Silence Jar. A literal jar. With money.

Sunghoon didn’t get it.

And he didn’t particularly care to. Not then.

But now, standing in the hallway in his coat and scarf, staring at the gift you shoved into his hands with flushed cheeks, something felt different.

He had been on his way out, actually. There was a bar nearby, nothing special, just a dim-lit spot with quiet music and decent food where no one bothered him. He usually went there whenever Jay and Jake went back home, like they did this time every year. It wasn’t that he didn’t have family—he did. It just wasn’t… warm. They were always busy. Always somewhere else, even when they were in the same room.

He peeled off his scarf, feet dragging a little as he headed back into the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. He set the container on the kitchen counter, grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the drawer, and opened the lid.

Steam wafted up instantly, sesame oil, soy sauce, garlic, something subtly sweet he couldn’t name. The noodles glistened. They looked homemade. No, they felt homemade.

He picked up a strand and gave it a tentative taste.

His eyes widened before he could even help it.

It was good. Like stupid good. Like how the hell is this girl not running her own restaurant kind of good. Better than anything he would’ve paid for at that bar tonight.

He stood there in silence, chopsticks hovering mid-air, thinking back.

He wasn’t proud of how he’d treated you. Three encounters, three arguments. He remembered each one too clearly. The snark in his voice. The way your expression hardened. The notes on the door. 

But it wasn’t really about you.

He hated being called out. Hated being the problem. Maybe it was ego, or maybe it was the way he’d always felt like he had to be put-together or to say the least…controlled. Your presence threw him off. You were loud in a way that was sincere. You didn’t filter your emotions. You wore your annoyance on your sleeve and your feelings on your face.

It irritated him. It also… made him feel something.

And then there was that night on the balcony.

He hadn’t meant to listen. But when he heard your voice cracking through the divider, talking to someone…maybe it was your boyfriend? Your best friend? Whoever it was about how lonely you were, it hit him harder than it should’ve.

Because he got it.

He felt it too.

Being alone in a crowd. Having people around but never really with you. That weight in your chest that didn’t come from sadness exactly…just the absence of warmth.

Sunghoon felt it more often than he cared to admit. He loved Jake and Jay, loved them to pieces. They were the kind of people who filled a room with noise and an energy he couldn’t really place and who made him laugh even when he didn’t want to.

He wanted something more. Something real.

Someone who just… saw him.

He sat at his kitchen counter, staring at the container of glass noodles still warm with steam curling from the lid. He wasn’t usually impulsive. He didn’t do gestures. But maybe tonight called for something a little uncharacteristic.

He stood and reached up, opening the top cupboard where Jake and Jay kept what they called their “emergency date plates.”. The kind of plates you used to impress someone. They only ever brought them out when trying to convince girls they were not, in fact, living in a borderline condemned apartment flat.

He grabbed two.

And then, before he could second guess it, he walked out into the hallway and knocked. 

Your door creaked open a few seconds later.

You blinked at him, confused. “What?”

It almost felt like deja vu. Except now, he was you…awkward at the door.

And then it hit him.

He looked at you…like, really looked at you, and for the first time, he realised he’d never actually seen you before. 

You were wearing a soft pink sleeveless dress, the fabric loose and falling just above your knees, cinched slightly at the waist. Your hair was tied into a side braid, fringe swept slightly to the side, with a few delicate strands left loose to frame your face. You looked like you belonged in a pastel painting.

Shit.

Were you actually—pretty?

Nope. Nope. Stop that. Sunghoon blinked hard, trying to erase the thought.

Damn it.

You probably had a boyfriend. Someone smart and warm and emotionally available who FaceTimed you every night and wrote you good morning texts. Someone who missed you from back home.

And besides…someone who could cook like you? You could probably bag Jake and Jay at the same time in under a minute if you wanted. Not that you would. But still.

He cleared his throat.

“I, uh…” He held up the plates slightly. “I thought maybe… you could join me?”

He wasn’t good at this. But his voice was steady.

“Only if you want to,” he added, quickly. “I just figured. Y’know. Glass noodles taste better on… plates that aren’t plastic.”

His eyes met yours.

He was trying.

And this time, it was your turn to blink in disbelief.

-

Sunghoon had returned with the container of glass noodles, now a little colder, a little stickier, but still giving off the faint aroma of sesame oil and soy sauce. You’d reheated it and plated it up, slightly embarrassed that the presentation wasn’t what it had been fresh off the stove, but he didn’t seem to care. Or maybe he did, but you couldn’t tell, because for the first five minutes, you didn’t look at each other.

The clink of chopsticks, the occasional scrape of ceramic, and your ceiling fan. It was awkward. You wondered why he even came. Why he asked in the first place, if he was just going to eat in silence.

“So,” you said.

“So,” he said.

You paused.

“You first.”

“No, you—”

“Okay, I’ll go first,” he said, cutting himself off. He cleared his throat and set his chopsticks down. “I—uh—I just wanted to say thanks. For the meal.”

You blinked. “Okay.” You nodded slowly. “You’re… shockingly formal when you’re not pissed.”

“I—” Sunghoon let out a breath and leaned back a little in the chair. “I was never pissed.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, nodding, eyes narrowed. “Sure.”

“I was annoyed, sure. Who likes being called out?”

“I wasn’t trying to call you out,” you said, tilting your head. “But put yourself in my shoes. I have to wake up at stupid o’clock to learn how to make a soufflé or whatever, and meanwhile, I’m treated to surround sound yelling and the occasional ceiling vibration.”

He gave a small shrug. “Well, we haven’t done it in a while.”

“And I’m grateful,” you replied, lips twitching. “Truly.”

“We got a silence jar and everything,” he muttered, almost like he didn’t want to admit it.

Your eyebrows shot up. “A silence jar?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Jay implemented it. He said if we keep it up, we’ll have enough for extra toppings on our next pizza night.”

You burst into laughter, the sound surprising even yourself. It came out light and real, and you covered your mouth halfway through. “That’s… honestly? A decent plan.”

“It can be,” he said with a grin starting to pull at the corner of his mouth. “Until everyone starts trying to play FIFA like it’s an ASMR video.”

“You guys actually whisper?” you asked, incredulous.

“Well, yeah. You told us to.”

“I didn’t think you would listen,” you said, pointing your chopsticks at him.

Sunghoon shrugged again, his eyes dropping to the plate in front of him. “Well… they changed my mind, so.”

He didn’t say what he was really thinking.

That it wasn’t Jake or Jay who changed his mind. It was that night. The way your voice had carried through the gap in the balcony, fragile and cracking. The way you’d said I’m alone, Won like it was something that had been sitting inside you for too long, waiting to spill. He’d realised then maybe he wasn’t just an annoying neighbour to you. Maybe he was part of the problem. Maybe he’d been making things harder for someone who was already trying to hold it all together.

“So…” he said quietly, eyes on his plate, “why are you alone during the holidays anyway?”

“Couldn’t afford a train ticket,” you said eventually. “I mean—I could have, technically. But that’d mean I wouldn’t have enough money left to buy ingredients for my assignments the next few weeks.”

Sunghoon winced. “Oof. That’s rough. Must suck.”

You gave a little shrug. “Yeah. It’s fine though.”

He knew it wasn’t.

There was a pause. He glanced sideways at you.

“If you ever… feel like you need someone to talk to,” he started, voice casual, “you could just knock. I have FIFA.”

You snorted. “Oh, like I’d willingly join that mess.”

“It’s actually really fun.”

“How fun can flinging a ball across a screen with your thumbs be?”

“It is!” he defended, turning fully toward you.

You raised a brow. “I tried once with my friend and it was so boring.”

“That’s ‘cause you weren’t playing it right,” he insisted, already standing up. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

“I’m not playing FIFA with you.”

“Come onnn,” he whined, grabbing your wrist and tugging you lightly toward his door.

“God, this is gonna be so stupid,” you muttered, dragging your feet even as you followed him out.

Inside his apartment, the lights were warm, the couch sunken in like it had been through a war. You sat reluctantly, tucking your knees up as he handed you the controller.

“Alright,” he said, sliding in beside you. “This is you—Team Two. All you have to do is use the left joystick to move, the right one to look around. This button to pass, this one to shoot.”

You blinked. “So many buttons.”

“It’s easy! Just follow what I say.”

“Okay… so now I just—?” You pressed a button and immediately kicked the ball out of bounds.

“No, no—move left. Left.”

“I am moving left!”

He glanced over. Your tongue was sticking out slightly in concentration, eyes squinted, brows furrowed. He chuckled before he could stop himself, quickly looking away.

Then you screamed, “I DID IT! DID I DO IT?!”

He turned back just in time to see you score.

Sunghoon yelled, jumping up. “Yeah! That was it!”

You stared at the screen, jaw dropping. “Holy shit. I’m amazing.”

He looked at you again, this time longer. Your eyes were glowing, still locked on the TV. Your fingers tapped at the buttons like you already got it down. You bit your lip when you were focused, tongue sticking out just slightly when you were thinking.

And you were cute. So fucking cute.

The match picked up pace. Suddenly it was 2–2, and both of you were leaning in like your lives depended on it. You were yelling at the controller. He was shouting advice. At one point, your knees knocked, but neither of you noticed. The room was loud, just your voices and the music from the game and the way your laughter filled every corner of his flat.

Then it happened.

You scored. 

You screamed, controller tossed onto the couch, and before Sunghoon could register what was happening, your arms were around his neck, squeezing him tight as you jumped slightly in place.

“I WON! DID YOU SEE THAT?!”

He froze. Your cheek brushed his jaw, your warmth right up against him. His hands hovered midair like he didn’t know whether to hold you back or not.

And then you let go, plopped back onto the couch, and grabbed the controller again like nothing had happened.

Sunghoon didn’t move.

For the first time in what felt like forever, his heartbeat stuttered. Sped up like it had been woken from a long, indifferent sleep.

He sat there, silent, staring at you as you shouted at your pixelated team.

And all he could think was well that…he hadn’t planned on crushing on the new girl based on one single positive interaction.

God, he was so screwed.

-

The next few days passed in a blur of almost-conversations.

You and Sunghoon didn’t talk much. Not like that night. Just a few polite waves across the hallway, a quiet “hey” if you caught the elevator at the same time. Respectful nods. The occasional awkward glance if your eyes met for too long.

And then Jake and Jay came back.

And of course, Jake being Jake, invited himself into your apartment before you could even say no.

“I missed your cooking while I was gone,” he sighed dramatically, sinking into the dining chair like he’d returned from war.

“Well, today’s your lucky day,” you said, flipping through your assignment folder and squinting at the week’s task. “Because for today’s assignment, I’m supposed to…” you paused. “Make a really mean chicken pot pie.”

Jake’s eyes lit up. He clapped his hands, nearly tipping his chair over. “CHICKEN POT PIE?!”

Before you could even blink, he leapt up, yanked your door open, and sprinted into the hallway.

“JAY! IT’S CHICKEN POT PIE!” he yelled like it was a fire drill.

From across the hall, Jay’s voice rang out. “WHAT?! NO WAY!”

And then—another voice joined them.

A quieter one.

“Chicken pot pie?”

You didn’t even have time to react before you were suddenly hosting three grown men in your kitchen, all leaning over your counter.

“Guys,” you said, elbow-deep in flour. “I can’t focus if you’re all staring at me like that.”

“We’re just excited,” Jake grinned, chin in his hands.

“Well don’t be. I’ve never made this before. It might taste like ass.”

“Your hands are basically blessed by Gordon Ramsay,” Jay declared, grabbing a slice of carrot from the cutting board. “It’s impossible for it to taste like ass.”

You laughed, the sound soft and unexpected even to yourself. “Jungwon used to tell me that all the time.”

“Oh he did?” Jay echoed, voice teasing.

Sunghoon stood a few steps back from the others, arms crossed loosely, leaning against your fridge. He hadn’t said much since stepping into your place, but now he watched the three of you.

The way you smiled when Jay made a joke. The way Jake knew where you kept your mixing bowls. The way your eyes sparkled, just slightly, when you laughed about something from home. The way they got it. The way they knew you.

And the way he didn’t.

Sunghoon couldn’t explain it but it made his stomach twist. Tight and strange and uncomfortable.

And then he heard it again.

Jungwon.

Who the hell was Jungwon?

His name sounded too casual. Too affectionate. The kind of name you didn’t just drop without meaning.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He just looked down at your countertop, at the flour dusting your hands and the delicate way your fingers shaped the crust, and all he could think was—

Why the fuck did he care so much?

You moved around your kitchen with the kind of ease that made it impossible not to watch. Sunghoon’s eyes were locked on you, the way your hair swayed behind your back as you leaned forward to stir something in the pot, the way your sleeves were pushed up. 

His heart pounded harder than it should’ve. He tried to brush it off. Maybe he was just hungry. Maybe it was just the smell of garlic and butter making him lightheaded. That had to be it, right?

Except no.

He hadn’t planned on feeling like this today. Not when he woke up. Not when he brushed his teeth and went on his phone and told himself he’d stay in his apartment. He hadn’t even planned on coming over. And that night the two of you shared noodles? He’d chalked it up to vulnerability. Nighttime feelings. Nothing serious.

But now it was noon. He was awake. Sober. And you were still somehow making his chest tighten just by existing within ten feet of him.

God. He hated having a crush.

He didn’t even realise how lost he looked until Jake spoke up from the side, breaking the spell.

“So, is Jungwon finally coming?”

This guy again.

Sunghoon’s head whipped toward Jake so fast it might’ve snapped his neck.

You perked up at the mention, a smile blooming across your face without even trying. “Yeah! He’s coming in two weeks! I actually told him about you guys. He’s kinda excited to meet you.”

That smile. It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t forced. You looked like someone who meant it. Someone who missed this guy. Someone who talked to him often.

Sunghoon clenched his jaw and looked away, grabbing a water bottle off your counter just to do something with his hands. He twisted the cap a little too hard.

He didn’t know who the hell Jungwon was.

But he already didn’t like him.

“He’s coming over?” Jay asked, his mouth still half-full of pie filling.

“Yeah,” you said casually, brushing a stray hair behind your ear as you peeked into the oven. “He’s staying at my place for the week he’s here.”

Staying at your place?

Sunghoon blinked.

He looked around your apartment, eyes scanning every corner like they were going to magically reveal a hidden guest room. But there wasn’t one. You lived in a studio. Everything was in one space. Your bed, your desk, your kitchen, your couch. Except… there wasn’t even a real couch. Just a throw-covered loveseat that barely seated two.

No air mattress in sight. No hidden folding cot. No suspicious lumpy bags that might hold a spare futon.

Just one bed.

His chest tightened.

Where the hell was Jungwon gonna sleep? With you?

He picked at the label on his water bottle, teeth grinding quietly as he stared down at the floor, like it held answers. It didn’t.

He wasn’t even involved with you. This shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t bother him.

But it did. In the most uncomfortable, teeth-clenching, mind-racing kind of way.

-

You stood in front of the three boys, arms crossed, heart racing slightly under your apron. The chicken pot pie sat on the table…golden brown crust, just the right amount of bubbling over on the sides, the smell of thyme and butter and garlic filling your apartment.

Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon each took a spoonful at the same time like they’d rehearsed it. You watched them, nervous, scanning their faces.

One by one, their expressions lit up. Jake’s eyes widened, Jay let out a satisfied groan. Well… except Sunghoon. Of course.

He stayed still. Always unreadable. But you caught it. The tiny pause, the way his brows lifted just a fraction. He liked it. He just didn’t show it like the others.

“So—” Jake started.

“Good,” Jay finished, already reaching for more.

Your eyes flicked to Sunghoon. Somehow, his opinion was the one you were waiting on. The one you needed.

“So?” you asked, staring at him.

He blinked. “What?”

“How is it?”

“It’s good,” he said, nodding once, tone flat as ever.

Your smile dropped. You frowned. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“What? I just said it’s good.”

“No, you said ‘good’ and then frowned and put your spoon down. Usually it’s ‘It’s good,’ then a second bite. Right, boys?”

Jake nodded enthusiastically, chicken still in his mouth. “She’s right.”

“Totally right,” Jay added, already helping himself to more.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, leaning back slightly. “You’re all being dramatic.”

You scoffed, insulted. “I guess you don’t want seconds then. Tch.”

You clicked your tongue and turned on your heel, storming off toward the kitchen, grumbling under your breath. Your apron fluttered behind you as you moved, and you didn’t look back.

Sunghoon watched your little pout, the way your shoulders stiffened, how you exaggerated every step. He didn’t know why, but he liked your reaction. No, he loved it. He found it ridiculously cute. Too cute, actually. That slight wrinkle in your forehead. The way your voice got higher when you were mad. The tiny stomp in your step.

The moment your back turned, his lips twitched upward. 

When lunch ended and the three of them stood by your front door, Jake and Jay turned to hug you dramatically.

“Never move out,” Jake said into your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re just saying that because you get free food.”

“And precisely why we don’t want you to move out,” Jay replied, squeezing you once more before the two of them shuffled out, bickering as they made their way into their apartment across the hall.

Sunghoon lingered. Just behind you.

You turned, raising a brow. “Aren’t you leaving?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He stepped back slowly, hands in his pockets, gaze flicking to the floor before settling back on you. Then he paused. Like he wasn’t sure if he should say what he was about to say.

“The chicken pot pie was good. I think…” he exhaled, voice quieter, “I think it was one of the best things I’ve ever had.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“It reminded me of home,” he added, eyes still on you now, a little softer than usual. “Not in the way where it’s about the taste or anything… it’s just… you cook like home. If that makes any sense.”

You hadn’t expected that.

Your cheeks flushed immediately. You turned away before he could see it, pretending to fiddle with a dish on the counter, fingers uselessly adjusting an already-clean plate.

“Thank you,” you murmured, voice low, almost shy.

He lingered for a second longer like he wanted to say more. Then he gave a quiet nod and walked out the door.

-

It was raining.

It was only 4 p.m., but the sky had turned an eerie charcoal grey, clouds rolling thick above the city. Thunder cracked so loud you felt it in your chest, and the wind howled between the buildings, slamming against your windows.

You hated this.

You hated how much you still feared storms even at your age. How useless independence felt when you were stuffing tissues in your ears and jamming earmuffs over your head like you were five again. You turned on every single light in your apartment, lamps, fairy lights, even your microwave light and cocooned yourself under your thickest blanket, barely breathing, eyes wide.

Then the whole building shuddered.

The lights flickered.

And then everything went dark.

You screamed.

Your apartment disappeared into a blanket of pitch black, shadows curling up the walls like ink. Your heart pounded. You scrambled up from the couch, tearing off your earmuffs and patting the walls with shaky hands, trying to find a light switch like that would fix anything.

“Shit,” you whispered, voice trembling. “Shit shit shit.”

You fumbled for your phone. A message popped up from your landlord.

“The building is experiencing a temporary blackout due to the storm. Electricity should resume in an hour. Thank you for your patience.”

An hour? Alone? In this? In the dark? Absolutely fucking not.

You jumped at another violent crack of thunder and instantly rushed out into the hallway. Your blanket trailed behind you like a cape. You beelined for the only door you knew.

You knocked. The door swung open almost immediately.

“No time to explain but I’m shitting bricks here,” you said all at once.

It wasn’t Jake or Jay.

It was Sunghoon.

His brows raised. “The thunderstorm?”

You nodded frantically. “Are Jake or Jay here?”

“They’re asleep.” He glanced behind him, then back at you. “But I could… stay with you. If you want. Until it passes.”

You hesitated.

Then thunder cracked again, louder this time, right above your building.

You flinched. “Okay,” you breathed, defeated.

The two of you sat cross-legged on your couch, sharing a single candle as your only source of light. It flickered between you, casting long, warm shadows on the walls.

“Seems like you’re scared of the thunder,” he said gently.

“Well,” you sighed, voice tight. “I’ve been scared of it since I was younger. It just… gets to me.”

He nodded. “It’s okay.”

You noticed it then…the subtle tremble in his shoulders. He was shivering. From the cold, probably. Your heater wasn’t working without electricity, and the apartment was steadily turning into a fridge. You were wrapped up like a burrito, but he’d come in without anything but a hoodie.

Feeling guilty, you shifted toward him and lifted one side of your blanket.

“Uh…” he looked at you like he wasn’t sure if he was being pranked.

“Relax. I can see you shivering like a dog,” you muttered.

“Oh.” He blinked, then grabbed the other end of the blanket and scooted in beside you.

Now under the same blanket, his body heat pressed faintly against yours. You sat side by side, knees pulled to your chests.

And then, in a whisper, he said, “You know…”

You looked over at him, startled by the sudden softness in his voice.

“I know I’m not as close to you as Jay and Jake are,” he said, eyes trained on the candle, “but… you don’t always have to find them for help.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“I’m saying…” he sighed, eyes flicking up toward you, and then away again. “Never mind.”

“No, what? Just spit it out.”

He exhaled through his nose like it physically hurt to get the words out. “I’m just saying… you could ask me for help too.”

You stared at him, your eyes adjusting to the candlelight flickering between you.

“Oh,” you said softly.

There was a beat of silence. You weren’t really sure what to do with that. But you didn’t want to leave it hanging either.

“I’ll be sure to think of you the next time,” you mumbled, barely louder than the rain still pelting the windows outside.

You felt him nod beside you.

You turned your head slowly, resting your cheek against your knees, eyes drifting toward him. His face was tilted down, lashes long and dark as they blinked now and then, just slow enough for you to notice. His jaw had softened a little. He looked calm, in a way you weren’t used to seeing him.

“Would you rather have a million dollars,” you said suddenly, “or have no problems in the world?”

He blinked, confused for a second, then turned his head toward you. His chin was on his knees now too, and with the two of you curled up in the same blanket, inches apart, it felt almost like whispering under covers at a sleepover.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A good one,” you replied, lips twitching. “So answer it.”

He scoffed a little under his breath. “Uh… maybe no problems in the world?”

“Smart answer. Why?”

He paused, “I think people ruin themselves trying to solve problems that shouldn’t be theirs. If I had no problems, maybe I wouldn’t waste time worrying about all the stuff that doesn’t matter.”

You blinked at him. That was… not the answer you were expecting. It was a good one. Way too good, actually.

“Right,” you said softly, giving him a small nod.

He looked at you for a second longer before his eyes flicked down. “Your turn. Would you rather go back in time or go into the future?”

You puffed your cheeks out, thinking. “Hmm… that’s a toughie.”

Then your eyes widened, the way they always did when you had a lightbulb moment. “Go back in time!”

“Why’s that?”

“So maybe I’d really weigh the pros and cons of moving to a city where I know no one,” you said with a grin, but it faded slightly at the end.

Sunghoon stayed quiet. 

“You must really feel alone,” he said.

You blinked, startled. “What?”

“I hear you talking about it sometimes. On your balcony. When you think no one’s listening. You talk about how moving here feels like a mistake.”

You looked away, embarrassed. “It’s not a mistake. I just… miss everything back home.”

“I get it,” he said after a second. “I was like you. Back when I was home, I wanted to leave so badly. Thought being somewhere else would fix everything. But now that I’m here… yeah, I have Jay and Jake, and they’re great, but sometimes I come back to the apartment and everything’s fine and normal and still—I just feel… empty. And I don’t even know why.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time.

You just watched him. His face had turned thoughtful, distant. His eyes unfocused, drifting somewhere past the flickering candle, past your walls, like he was staring right through the quiet that lived in his chest.

You mumbled, “Well, yeah. But… I also don’t regret it. Not one bit.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I mean—I’m here doing what I love. Not many people get to do that. And I made friends with three incredibly annoying people in this building.”

He turned toward you again, eyes narrowing playfully. “So we’re friends now?”

Your cheeks heated up instantly. You glanced away, pretending to roll your eyes. “Are we not?”

He let out a low chuckle, the kind that rumbled softly at the back of his throat. “I’m glad you think we are.”

“So,” you said, tilting your head, “does this mean you’ll finally be nice to me now? Or is that too much character development for one night?”

Sunghoon smirked, eyes flicking to you with a teasing glint. “You want nice? From me?”

“Yeah. Like a full sentence without sarcasm. I feel like that’s a reward I’ve earned by now.”

“You earned a participation medal at best.”

You laughed, nudging him with your knee. “Unbelievable.”

He was already looking at you again—closer this time.

“Hold on,” he said softly, “you have an eyelash on your cheek.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Before you could move, he leaned in.

His face hovered inches from yours as his thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch soft but sure. The pads of his fingers were warm. His eyes, now impossibly close, scanned your face with a kind of quiet focus you hadn’t felt from him before. You swallowed.

Neither of you moved.

Your gaze locked, and the space between you slowly disappeared…inch by inch, breath by breath. It wasn’t planned. It just… happened.

Then suddenly, his lips were on yours.

Then it deepened. His other hand pushed the blanket off his head, dropping behind your neck to pull you in, and your hands found their way to his thighs, then to the curve of his jaw. His lips parted just enough, and your pulse jumped as he moved against you.

His hands slid to your waist. He lifted you slightly and shifted you into his lap in one smooth motion. You were now straddling him, knees on either side of his thighs, and he didn’t stop kissing you, not even for a second.

The kiss grew stronger. He tilted his head, hand moving to your chin to pull you even closer, his mouth parting yours with a low inhale as his tongue brushed against yours.

Your hands moved back down, gripping at the soft cotton of his hoodie, when—

Click.

The lights flickered on.

You both froze.

Your faces were still inches apart. 

You slowly pulled back, still on his lap. He blinked, eyes searching yours like he wasn’t sure what just happened. Like part of him wanted to keep going, and the other part… couldn’t believe you just kissed him like that.

You stared at each other, the silence heavy now.

His hands were still resting lightly on your waist. Yours were still fisted in the fabric of his hoodie. Both of you breathless. 

“I need to go back home,” Sunghoon said suddenly, voice low but rushed. His eyes darted everywhere except at you.

You blinked. “Right. Of course!” you said quickly, nodding way too fast. “Yeah. No—totally.”

He shifted awkwardly underneath you, face flushing as he cleared his throat and muttered, “Probably… need a pillow or something.”

It took you a second.

Then you saw the way he was subtly covering his lap with the edge of the blanket.

“Oh.” Your voice came out small. You quickly scrambled off his lap, cheeks burning so hot they could’ve powered your apartment during the blackout.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, already halfway to your door.

And then, Sunghoon stormed out of your apartment.

-

It had been a couple of days since you last properly spoke to Sunghoon. Not for lack of trying. You had…more than once. But each time, he’d give you a quick nod, maybe a polite smile if you were lucky, before promptly power-walking away.

Maybe he just wasn’t feeling what you were feeling. Maybe that kiss was a fluke, something in the heat of the moment. Maybe your little new crush was painfully one-sided.

But you pushed it aside. You had bigger things to focus on.

Jungwon was coming today.

You’d spent the entire morning rearranging your apartment, cleaning it from top to bottom, fluffing cushions and spraying perfume not just on yourself but into the air like it could somehow mask how nervous you were. You even did your hair the way he liked it, soft curls and a side part.

And then, there he was.

The door swung open and your best friend stood in the hallway, suitcase in hand and a grin already on his face.

“WON!” you squealed, running up to him and leaping into his arms.

“Hello, idiot,” he said, his voice fond as he hugged you back, lifting you off the ground with ease.

The shout must’ve startled the boys in 3C, because right on cue, the door across the hall creaked open and out came Jake and Jay, both peeking out.

They spotted you clinging to Jungwon like a koala.

You beamed. “Guys! It’s him!”

“The famous Jungwon,” Jay said, nodding in approval as he stepped out.

“And you must be Jake and Jay,” Jungwon said smoothly, setting you down.

Then came the third.

Sunghoon.

He didn’t move from the doorway. Just stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Jungwon turned to him, a friendly smile still on his lips, chuckling. “You must be Sunghoon, then.”

Sunghoon’s gaze narrowed slightly. “What’s so funny?”

Jungwon blinked, caught off guard. “Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “She just… told me you were like this.”

“Like what?” Sunghoon asked sharply, the scoff nearly audible in his tone.

Jungwon scratched the back of his neck. “Nothing. She just said you were cool,” he said with a shrug, throwing you a teasing look.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes.

You stood there, suddenly awkward, unsure what the hell had crawled up Sunghoon’s ass. The hostility was as thick as the tension in the air and you hadn’t done anything. Not really.

At least you didn’t think you had.

Just stood there, arms crossed, a stiff expression on his face while Jake and Jay welcomed Jungwon like he was already part of the group. Jungwon, ever the social butterfly, fit in easily, throwing a few jokes around, complimenting the apartment despite its questionable decor, and even teasing Jake about the ugly dinosaur pyjamas he was wearing in broad daylight.

But Sunghoon?

He was frowning the entire time.

You couldn’t figure it out. His jaw was tight, his responses were clipped, and every time Jungwon so much as glanced your way, you saw Sunghoon’s eye twitch.

You walked back to your apartment with Jungwon beside you, chatting excitedly about dinner plans and all the places he wanted to visit during his stay. But when you turned back, just for a second, you caught Sunghoon still watching. Still standing in the hallway.

His arms were still crossed.

And he didn’t look away.

-

Sunghoon stood there, arms folded across his chest like they were the only things keeping him together. He stared ahead blankly, jaw tight, doing everything in his power not to glare a hole through the wall. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling.

Sure, he knew he had a crush on you. He’d known since the chicken pot pie, probably. Or maybe since you wrapped that blanket around his shoulders. Or maybe long before that. But what he didn’t know was who the fuck Jungwon was, and why he was walking into your apartment.

“Dude,” Jake muttered, throwing him a sideways look. “You could’ve at least smiled.”

“I did,” Sunghoon growled, not bothering to hide his scowl.

Jay snorted. “That was barely a smile. You looked like you were in the middle of passing a kidney stone.”

“Why do I even have to be nice?” Sunghoon snapped. “I don’t know him.”

“Because your crush’s boyfriend just came into town,” Jake replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sunghoon's head snapped to him so fast you’d think he got whiplash. “Boyfriend?”

Jay raised a brow. “Not denying the crush though.”

Sunghoon ignored him. “Let me ask you again. Boyfriend?”

Jake shrugged. “I mean… yeah, I guess?”

“What the fuck do you mean you guess?” Sunghoon hissed, dragging a hand down his face. “He can’t be her boyfriend.”

“But he is,” Jay said with a shrug and an infuriatingly smug smile.

“No, he’s not. He can’t be. Because she and I…” he paused, realising too late what was about to fall out of his mouth. “…kissed. Three nights ago.”

Jake’s mouth dropped open. Jay blinked.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jake finally blurted.

“Nothing,” Sunghoon muttered quickly, suddenly desperate to eat his words.

“You can’t say nothing when you just said everything!” Jake shouted, grabbing Sunghoon’s shoulders and shaking him.

“Tell us right now!” Jay begged dramatically, gripping his own hair.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, flustered. “I—we—kissed. That’s it.”

Jay blinked. “You know we were kidding about the boyfriend thing, right?”

Jake grinned. “Jungwon’s just her best friend.”

“We just wanted to see if you’d admit you liked her,” Jay added, eyes sparkling with way too much joy. “Which you did.”

“No, I didn’t,” Sunghoon argued weakly. “I just said we kissed.”

“Okay, Mr Visceral Reaction every time we mention Jungwon,” Jake teased.

Jay smirked. “Say it. Say you like her.”

Sunghoon groaned, eyes shut tight as if the ceiling could swallow him whole. Then, finally—quietly, begrudgingly—

“Okay. So what if I like her?”

Jay and Jake immediately turned to each other with identical gasps, smacking each other’s arms excitedly.

“Oh my god, he admitted it,” Jay whispered dramatically.

Jake clutched his chest. “It’s happening.”

“You guys are disgusting,” Sunghoon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And if you keep acting like this, I’m never telling you anything again.”

“Okay, okay.” Jake raised both hands, trying to suppress a grin. “We’ll behave.”

“BUT I’M SO EXCITED,” Jay squealed.

Jake smacked him on the shoulder. “Starting now.”

Jay nodded solemnly, rubbing his arm. “Sorry. That one slipped.”

Sunghoon sighed and leaned against the counter, arms crossed again. “I started liking her last month… when you guys went back home for the week. She cooked me stir-fried noodles, and we ate together. Played FIFA. I don’t know. I just… developed a crush on her.”

“That’s so cute,” Jay and Jake said in unison, stars in their eyes.

“Seriously, can the two of you act normal for like three minutes?”

Jake shrugged, still smiling. “I just didn’t expect you to have a girlfriend before me.”

Jay patted his shoulder. “You’ll get there, buddy.”

Jake tilted his head. “You think?”

“Yeah, you have nice eyes. Great personality.”

Jake beamed. “That’s so kind.”

“Can we please get back to my problem for like a minute?” Sunghoon cut in, glaring at both of them.

“Oh. Right.”

Jay cleared his throat and finally looked serious. “Look. We like her. She’s hilarious, and she makes good fucking food. And let’s be real, you’ve never liked anyone. We’ve been trying to get you to double date with us for years and you just stare at your phone all the time. But with her? You’re like... a guy with actual feelings.”

“But now I’m losing to Jung… whatever his name is.” Sunghoon sighed.

“Jungwon,” Jake said. “And no, you’re not.”

“How do you know she doesn’t like him?” Sunghoon muttered, staring down at the floor.

“Because,” Jay said, “if she did, she wouldn’t have kissed you.”

“Unless she’s indecisive or confused or something. I don’t know.” Sunghoon exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I was just… a moment. And he’s her person.”

Jake shook his head. “I’m telling you—just talk to her.”

“Yeah,” Jay added. “Before you spiral even harder and start writing love songs about her. But if you do, I haved like a couple of guitars you could borrow.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. But somewhere, deep down… a part of him hoped they were right.

-

You were pacing back and forth on your cheap IKEA rug, while Jungwon was laid out dramatically on your bed, arms folded behind his head, thoroughly enjoying the show.

“I’m telling you, he’s avoiding me,” you snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at no one in particular. “We kissed—KISSED, Jungwon—and now he won’t even look at me! I wave, he nods. I say hi, he nods. I breathe in his direction, he—guess what—nods!”

Jungwon hummed, annoyingly calm. “Maybe he’s nervous. Or maybe he wants you to go to him.”

“I do go to him! And then he speed-walks away like I’m the plague!” You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples. “I’m gonna lose it.”

“Maybe…” he tapped his chin thoughtfully, “you’re just a shit kisser.”

You whipped around and chucked a throw pillow directly at his smug face.

“Asshole.”

He caught it with a grin, clutching it to his chest dramatically. “I’m just saying. Maybe you scared him off.”

“You’re lucky I haven’t strangled you with this blanket,” you muttered, grabbing another pillow just in case.

Jungwon sat up, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “You know, sometimes I forget we grew up together because you’re so unpredictable now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He snorted. “You used to be fearless. Remember that Heeseung guy you had a crush on in middle school?”

You blinked. “What about him?”

“You were six, and you walked up to him at recess, said ‘I like your lunchbox,’ then kissed his cheek and ran off.”

“Ah,” you said flatly, “the good old days. That girl’s dead now.”

“She’s not dead,” Jungwon argued, grabbing your wrists and tugging you to sit beside him on the bed. “She’s just… overthinking everything. Look, if Sunghoon doesn’t like you—whatever. But if he does? You’re missing out just because you’re too chicken to tell him.”

You glared. “I hate it when you make sense.”

“I know.” He grinned. “It’s my worst trait.”

“I just—” you exhaled, flopping back beside him. “What if it ruins everything? We literally just got closer. What if I say something and it all goes to shit?”

“Okay, counter-offer.” He sat up straighter. “You tell him, or I will. I will walk down the hallway, knock on his door, and go ‘Hi, my best friend has feelings for you, she also has performance anxiety but can cook a great bowl of chicken noodle soup.’”

“You wouldn’t,” you hissed, swatting at his arm.

“Then do it yourself!” he laughed, dodging your attacks. “Before I start printing flyers and pasting them in the apartment lobby.”

God. Why did he always have to be right?

“Fine.”

Your hand was already on the doorknob, breath caught in your throat, just about to leave when the door across from yours had swung open at the exact same time.

And there he was.

Sunghoon.

You both froze, hands still gripping the doorknobs, blinking.

You cleared your throat first. “Sunghoon.”

He blinked like he hadn’t already been staring. “What?”

You squinted. “Is that the only word you know how to say when I call your name?”

He paused. “Sorry.”

You opened your mouth to say something else but were rudely interrupted by muffled snorts from behind Sunghoon. Jay and Jake’s heads popped out from their doorway like nosy meerkats.

“Hoon,” Jay said in a loud, exaggerated voice, “we need more eggs.”

“Desperately,” Jake added, nodding like this was a national emergency. “Go to the store.”

Then Jungwon peeked out from behind you with an equally suspicious grin. “Oh, and while you’re there, can you grab some ice cream too?”

You and Sunghoon looked at each other.

“What is happening right now,” you said flatly.

Before either of you could respond, four hands shoved the both of you toward the elevator. You stumbled in, the doors sliding shut just as Jay yelled out, “Don’t come back without snacks!”

The elevator stopped at your floor.

Your shoulders brushed as you stood side by side, awkwardly watching the floor numbers light up.

Then, finally, you broke it. “About that day—”

Sunghoon shook his head quickly. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell Jungwon.”

You blinked. “What do you mean you won’t tell Jungwon?”

He looked away. “Well, aren’t you like… crushing on him? I wouldn’t want what we did to, you know… ruin your chances or something.”

Your entire face scrunched up. “Won and I? What? Ew. God, no. We’re friends. We grew up together. Thinking about him that way would be like incest or something.”

And just like that, Sunghoon felt like he’d been hit by a shooting star and given a second chance at life. His heart did a full backflip. You were single. You were available. 

He couldn’t help it. He smiled.

“Why do you suddenly look so happy?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I’m not.”

“You’re literally smiling.”

“I’m not.”

“We’ve hung out a couple of times and if I’m being honest, I’ve never seen you smile this—”

“Cut it out.” He tried to brush it off, biting back the grin. “I’m just glad.”

“Glad about?”

“Glad that I didn’t ruin your chances,” he said nonchalantly, looking up like he hadn’t just panicked thirty seconds ago.

“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, the golden-orange glow of the sunset casting warmth across his cheekbones. He was handsome. Frustratingly so. “Well… because I actually like this other guy.”

Sunghoon’s smile faltered.

“I haven’t known him that long,” you continued casually, “but he seems cool. I don’t really know much about him yet.”

“That’s… nice.” Sunghoon turned away quickly, jaw tight. He was definitely grimacing. Please don’t let her see that I’m grimacing, he begged internally.

“Yeah, he’s really tall. Really handsome, too.”

“That’s just…” he exhaled. “Great.”

“He doesn’t seem super friendly but he has a big heart. Even if he tries really hard not to show it.”

“Seems like a swell fuckin’ guy,” he muttered bitterly.

“It’s a pity though,” you sighed dramatically, still watching him. “I wish I could get to know him better.”

“Well… anyone’s lucky to get to know you.” He tried to smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I know I am.”

You tilted your head. “Not to mention… he lives really close to me.”

Sunghoon’s eyes darted to you. “He does?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, heartbeat accelerating.

“Like how close?”

You took a slow step toward him. “Like… just across the hall close.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “That close.”

Silence settled in the small elevator. You both just stood there, not looking at each other, tension hanging in the air like humidity.

Then, out of nowhere—

“I’m just saying,” Sunghoon said, dead serious, “but Jake sleeps with the lights on and Jay doesn’t wash his hair as often as you think he does.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“I sleep normal,” he added quickly. “I wash my hair. I do proper haircare—shampoo, conditioner, mask, mist. I could do your routine too. For you. If you want.”

You stared.

“I can’t cook, but I’ll try. I can figure skate. I can spin twice in the air. Jay and Jake? Not even one spin. Jay can play guitar, Jake can sing but I can spin, okay? Without getting dizzy too.”

“Sunghoon.”

“And those idiots never clean up after eating your food. Jay doesn’t use coasters. Jake never makes his bed.”

“SUNGHOON!”

He looked at you, breathless. “What?”

You stepped forward. Slowly. Then, you mumbled, “It’s you.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I like you.”

And for once, Park Sunghoon had absolutely nothing to say.

“Okay,” he said. “Cool. Okay. I—wow. Okay.”

You raised a brow. “That’s it?”

He nodded dumbly. “No. Yes. I don’t know. I just—holy shit. You like me.”

You smirked, the smile slowly stretching across your face. “Yes. I like you.”

The elevator dinged. Neither of you moved.

He looked at you again, still dazed. “Hold on, I kinda need a minute.”

You both stepped out into the empty lobby. The sun outside had just dipped below the skyline, casting a pinkish-orange glow through the glass doors. The streetlights flickered on. But you waited.

“It’s been a minute,” you said.

“I know,” he exhaled, hand raking through his hair. “But you like me back, so I kinda need, like… a long minute.”

“Back?” You grinned, the corners of your mouth lifting all the way to your eyes. “So you like me too?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I thought it was obvious from the, uh… word vomit.”

“Well yeah,” you shrugged. “But I didn’t want to assume. Didn’t wanna be narcissistic.”

“I think even if you were,” he muttered, “I’d still think you were pretty cute.”

You blinked. “Did you just—”

“Gross, I know,” he said quickly, face flushing. “I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”

You laughed. “Yeah. But you kinda can’t take it back now.”

“Fine,” he said, pretending to groan. “You’re cute. Ugh. I said it again.”

-

A MONTH LATER

Jay and Jake found it fundamentally unfair. They were the ones who got close to you first. They were the ones who complimented you, made you laugh, showed up when you needed help. They loved you first or at least, that’s what they told themselves. But here you were, doors locked for the first time in three months, cooking a full-course meal for Sunghoon to celebrate your one-month anniversary.

“You’re not allowed to come,” Sunghoon told them flatly before slamming the door shut.

“But—!” they shouted in unison, already mourning the steak they wouldn’t get to taste.

Word on the hallway was that you were cooking the perfect medium-rare T-bone steak, paired with your signature brown sauce and a vegetable medley so crunchy and flavourful. Meanwhile, Jay and Jake sat hunched on the couch, scrolling through a food delivery app.

“Isn’t it funny,” Jake said, arms folded, “how we were the ones who befriended her first, and now we’re stuck with Burger King?”

“Life’s unfair, bud.”

Back in your apartment, things were a little more romantic. You’d decorated with fairy lights and candles, the room dimly lit. You were still being frugal, splitting every cost you could. But you’d managed to steal two T-bone steaks from the diner you part-timed at.

Sunghoon showed up in a black and white tuxedo, looking like he’d taken the prom theme you had placed as a joke a little too seriously.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“And you look absolutely handsome,” you grinned.

He walked over to the table and took in the spread. “Okay, what do we have?”

“I made the steaks, obviously, and then there’s the vegetable medley… and your favourite—mashed potatoes,” you giggled.

Sunghoon exhaled, shaking his head with a disbelieving smile. “How did I get so lucky?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know either.”

He laughed. “The guys are pissed, by the way. You made me all this, and they’re over there with cold fries.”

“What?” you said, surprised. “I made them something too! Don’t worry.”

“You did?” he raised a brow.

“I had a feeling they’d be hungry if you were over here.”

“Babe, you didn’t have to do that. They’re grown men.”

“Yeah, but technically my assignment this week was pasta and I have too many leftovers.”

“They’re spoiled by you.”

“And so are you.”

“True, but I’m your boyfriend. They’re just two annoying shitheads constantly trying to butt in.”

“I’ll be quick. I’ll just drop the dish off and come back.”

“No,” he said, standing. “I’ll do it. You stay here.”

He kissed your forehead, grabbing the lasagna you’d tucked into the fridge. “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“He walked across the hall and opened the door to Unit 3C.

Inside, Jay was mid-rant. “I just don’t get it. Sunghoon isn’t even that hot.”

“I mean, he is,” Jake added, “but she deserves better, you know?”

Sunghoon cleared his throat. “I can hear you two idiots.”

They both froze, turning around sheepishly. “We were just joking. We love you, man.”

He held up the dish. “And to think I came here bearing gifts from my girlfriend.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “Wait—is that lasagna?”

“She felt bad we were eating good without you, so she made you dinner.”

“Oh my god,” Jay gasped. “Sunghoon, I don’t mean to be pushy, but please marry her.”

“I can’t,” Sunghoon muttered. “Not when you two are constantly inserting yourselves into my relationship.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll back off. Just—can we have the lasagna?”

“And can you tell her we love her?”

“I am not telling my girlfriend you love her,” Sunghoon snapped. “I’ve barely worked up the nerve to tell her that myself.”

“Wait,” Jake said suddenly, “you haven’t told her you love her yet?”

“It’s only been a month.”

“So… you don’t love her?”

“I do,” Sunghoon replied, almost too quickly. “I just don’t want to come on too strong if she’s not ready.”

Jay and Jake shared a glance before shrugging.

“What?” Sunghoon asked, frowning. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jake cleared his throat. “It’s just… she already said it.”

Sunghoon looked up. “What?”

“Yeah,” Jake replied casually. “You texted her about picking up those heat packs for her cramps, and she went all soft and whispered, ‘God, I love him so much.’ Her words. Not mine.”

Sunghoon stood frozen in the doorway, the dish in his hands suddenly weightless.

You loved him.

“So… you’re saying I should tell her?” he asked, voice quiet, almost unsure.

Jay and Jake both nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely. Especially if it makes her our sister-in-law,” Jay added, grinning.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “God, the two of you can be so annoying.”

“But you still love us,” Jay shrugged. “So what’s the point of complaining?”

He hated that Jay was right.

Back in your apartment, Sunghoon sat across from you, completely transfixed. You were dressed in a soft pink satin dress that shimmered every time you moved. It hugged your shoulders delicately, the neckline simple, elegant. Your hair was curled softly, pinned loosely on one side with a vintage clip, and your lips were glossed just enough to make him stare longer than he should’ve.

And God, you looked so beautiful.

He tried to pay attention. He really did. But his heart was too loud, his thoughts too full. How was he supposed to say it?

Sunghoon had never told anyone he loved them before. Not seriously. Maybe to his mom years ago, right before he left for the city. But this? This felt entirely new.

Because sitting in front of him was someone who made every quiet part of his life feel loud again. You filled in the spaces he didn’t even know were missing. You made his apartment feel less cold, his world a little less grey. And the way he loved you—God, it wasn’t something small. It wasn’t a flicker or a passing crush. It was all-consuming and terrifying and the best damn thing he’d ever felt.

He loved you like it was muscle memory. Like even if he forgot everything else, his hands would still reach for yours and only yours.

“Hoonie,” you interrupted gently, frowning. “You’re not listening.”

He blinked back into focus. “Sorry,” he murmured, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was just thinking about something.”

“What?” you looked up at him, ur big eyes shining. 

Sunghoon unknowingly smiled, his eyes dripping with honey, god he loved you. He wanted to say that. So badly.

“I…I just–uh–feel…that,” His voice trailed off. “You look really beautiful tonight. I mean, you always do. But especially tonight.” He hesitated, the words stuck behind his teeth.

You smiled. “Thank you. You look very handsome too.”

-

Later that night, the two of you were in Sunghoon’s apartment along with Jay and Jake for the usual game night. 

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, your prom-night dress bunched awkwardly around your knees, mascara slightly smudged from earlier laughter, hair pinned half-up. Sunghoon sat slouched in the beanbag beside you, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in concentration. Jake was lying on his stomach, legs swinging in the air, and Jay had somehow made himself horizontal on the couch.

You and Jake were a team. Sunghoon and Jay were not handling that well.

“Revive me!” Sunghoon yelled.

Jay shouted back, “I’m busy trying not to die, dumbass!”

Button mashing intensified. Trash talk flew across the room.

“VICTORY!” Jake screamed, leaping up like a madman.

You followed suit, springing to your feet and clambering up onto the coffee table in your dress. “GET WRECKED, LOSERS!” you yelled, pointing dramatically at Sunghoon. “THAT’S RIGHT, LOSERS!”

Jake joined you on the table, doing a badly timed robot dance. The two of you jumped in sync, yelling in triumph, while Jay groaned into a throw pillow and Sunghoon watched with a hand covering his mouth, half to hide his smile, half to suppress a laugh.

“You’re all bark, no bite!” you called, face flushed, hair falling loose. “Your character died fourteen times, Hoonie.”

“I let you win!” he shot back, grinning as he sat up straighter. “I was being a gentleman.”

“Sure,” you scoffed, sticking your tongue out at him. “Real chivalrous of you, sir died-14-fucking-times.”

He chuckled under his breath, eyes lingering on you for a second longer than usual. Then, without a word, he stood and walked out of the room.

You blinked. That was...odd. 

You gave Jake a gentle shove off the table and followed Sunghoon into the hallway. He was pacing outside, one hand in his hair, the other fiddling with the watch on his wrist.

“Hoon?” you asked, stepping out and gently closing the door behind you.

He jumped slightly, turning toward you. “You scared me.”

“You okay? You just left so sudden…”

“I—uh—yeah. I was just trying to figure out how to say something.”

You tilted your head, arms crossing over your chest. “Say what?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled with a shrug.

Your expression softened. “Are you mad at me?” You sighed. Maybe your little victory dance had been a bit much. “Hoonie?”

“No, baby, I could never be mad at you,” he said quickly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…”

You stepped closer, teasing lightly, “Do you want me to redo my victory dance? I could. You just have to beatbox, and I’ll take it from there.”

That made him laugh.

“Come on,” you grinned, starting to move your body in the most ridiculous way. “I’m pretty sure I should’ve been a dancer instead of a chef.”

He laughed again, this time louder and then, before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.

“Oh my god, I love you.”

You blinked. Your smile faded. Your brain, for one impossible second, completely short-circuited.

“Did you just say you love me?” you asked, heart hammering.

His eyes widened in sheer panic. “No?”

“I heard it.”

“You misheard.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, practically vibrating. “You love me. You love me!”

“Fine!” he burst out, throwing his hands up like he was under arrest. “I do! I love you, okay?”

You smiled, “You do?”

“Of course! I love the way you talk too fast when you’re excited. I love how you make my idiot friends feel like they matter. I love that you make me feel whole. That when I’m with you, I don’t feel hollow anymore. You… you make me feel like I’m not empty.”

You grinned so wide it hurt. “That’s because you’re not.”

“I used to be,” he said helplessly, gesturing vaguely like he was mourning his past self. “I was mysterious. Brooding. Sexy, even. And now? Now I smile at cat videos you send me on TikTok. Look what you’ve done to me. This is all your fault.”

You scoffed, “My fault?”

“Yes! Who else could it be?” he said, breathless, like the truth had been waiting at the edge of his tongue for too long. “You walk into my life with that stupidly perfect smile, that laugh that makes everything feel lighter, those eyes that somehow hold the whole damn sky and now I’ve got feelings. Big ones.”

He took a shaky breath, pausing for a minute.

“I used to think I was fine on my own. But now? I get out of bed just because I know I might see you. I hear your knock and my whole day lights up. For the first time, I feel like I know what living really means. It’s you. Loving you. That’s it.”

You leaned in and kissed him right in the middle of his rant.

He blinked, dazed.

“You sure talk a lot for someone who usually says nothing,” you murmured, forehead resting against his.

“I do it when I’m nervous,” Sunghoon whispered, and then kissed you again.

“I find it cute,” you mumbled between kisses.

Sunghoon grinned into the next kiss, backing you up step by step toward your apartment door, his hands finding your waist. “God,” kiss “I love you,” another kiss “so much.”

You let out a breathless laugh. “You’re very handsy for someone who claimed to be brooding and mysteriou.”

“I told you,” he whispered, lips brushing your jaw as he reached behind you, fumbling for the door handle, “you ruined me.”

Your back hit the door with a thud. He fumbled with the knob like he was drunk on you, eventually pushing it open and guiding you inside.

He kicked the door shut with the back of his foot.

You were still laughing into his kiss. He walked you backward until your knees hit the bed and you dropped onto it with a squeak.

He climbed over you, hands on either side of your waist, face flushed, heart in his throat.

“I fucking love you,” he said again, like it wasn’t real until he repeated it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, eyes sparkling. “I love you too.”

[darquette]

SWEET LIFE ★ the sweet life 。。。

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐒 。 seven cities, seven boys, and seven quiet moments where love finds you in the in-between.

121O──enhypen x fem!reader ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ slice of life soft romance fluff ⊹ ࣪ ˖ gentle romantic themes mild language emotional intimacy brief mentions of being lost

REBLOG FOR A KiSS

HEESEUNG, SEOUL

you don’t mean to keep ending up at the same convenience store every thursday at 1am. but he’s always there — hoodie up, headphone on one ear, flipping through ramen options like it’s part of a ritual. the first time, it felt like coincidence. the second time, fate. the third, a habit.

“late night again?” heeseung mumbles, not quite looking at you. his voice is low, but familiar now.

you glance at his basket. choco pie, banana milk, shin ramen. “same stuff every week,” you tease.

he scoffs softly. “don’t judge. you’re the one buying three energy drinks like that’s a balanced dinner.”

you both laugh, reaching for the same honey butter chips. your hands brush. you don’t pull away.

outside, the city buzzes with neon signs and taxi horns, but inside the store, it feels quiet — like the world paused just for this moment.

heeseung taps your wrist gently. “next time,” he says, eyes warm, “let’s just meet on purpose.”

JONGSEONG, PARIS

the atelier smells like pencil shavings and bergamot — a mix of creativity and quiet elegance. jay doesn’t look up when you walk in, too focused on the curve of a sleeve he’s sketching in charcoal.

“you’re late,” he murmurs, though there was never a time set.

you place a small box of pastries on the edge of his desk. “i brought brioches. peace offering.”

he finally glances at you, eyes flickering from your face to the flaky crumbs at the edge of the box. his expression softens. “then you’re forgiven.”

you sit across from him, watching him draw. the silence is peaceful — only the soft scratch of pencil on paper and the hum of a jazz record playing somewhere in the background.

suddenly, jay pauses. his gaze lingers on you longer this time, his pencil mid-air.

“don’t move,” he says quietly.

“what?” you blink.

“just stay like that,” he says, already flipping to a new page. “the light, the way you’re looking at me… i need to capture it. you look like a painting.”

you smile, heart stuttering as you let him draw. in his world of silk and sketches, somehow, you became the masterpiece.

JAEYUN, BRISBANE

you meet jake during a uni group project you didn’t want to join. he walks in ten minutes late with a smoothie in one hand and the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

“sorry, had to walk my dog,” he says, sliding into the seat next to you. “his name’s layla. she’s kind of famous.”

you blink. “your dog’s famous?”

he just shrugs, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “instagram. 8k followers. she models bucket hats.”

you end up doing most of the project together. library dates that turn into milkshake runs. study sessions that drift into riverside walks once the sun sets and the sky turns orange-pink.

he hums as you walk, hands in his hoodie pocket. “you know what i like about brisbane?” he says.

“what?”

“it feels like a big town pretending to be a city. chill. friendly. easy to breathe.”

you glance at him, all warm eyes and messy hair and soft edges. “kind of like you.”

he freezes for a second, then smiles — shy and beaming all at once.

“you make it hard not to fall for you, you know,” he says, voice low.

the wind moves through the trees, and his fingers brush yours. brisbane feels like summer, and jake feels like home.

SUNGHOON, VIENNA

the gallery is nearly empty. it’s the third time this week you’ve seen sunghoon there — same bench, same painting, same distant expression.

today, you finally sit next to him.

he doesn’t look surprised, just glances at you from the corner of his eye. “you like this one too?”

you nod. the painting is soft and cold, like a memory. “it feels… like winter,” you whisper.

“yeah,” he murmurs. “like something you miss, even while you’re holding it.”

you both sit in silence for a long while, not needing words. there’s something about him — elegant, composed, but constantly reaching for something invisible.

as you leave together, the snow begins to fall. he glances at you, then shyly holds out his glove-covered hand.

“do you… want to get hot chocolate?” he asks, almost too quiet to hear.

you take his hand.

“i’d like that,” you whisper.

and he smiles, just a little.

SUNOO, KYOTO

you meet sunoo during golden hour, when the streets of kyoto are soft and slow, and everything feels like a dream.

he’s helping his grandmother run a little tea shop tucked between cherry blossom trees. you stumble in, half-lost, completely enchanted.

“you’re not from here,” he says with a grin, offering you a matcha bowl with both hands.

“was it that obvious?” you reply, accepting it carefully.

he shrugs. “your eyes are doing that thing. the ‘i just fell in love with this place’ thing.”

you smile. “maybe i did.”

he sits across from you after his shift, sleeves rolled up, cheeks flushed from the steam. he shows you how to properly whisk matcha. how to fold paper cranes. how to say your name in gentle syllables.

by the time the lanterns are lit and the sky turns indigo, you don’t want to leave.

“come back tomorrow,” he says, eyes glowing.

you nod. “i think i’d come back forever.”

JUNGWON, FLORENCE

jungwon sketches in the corner of the piazza, notebook in his lap, pencil between his lips. tourists pass him by, but you stop.

“can i see?” you ask, nodding at his open page.

he looks up, blinking. “only if you sit for me.”

you laugh, but he’s already shifting to a new page. “wait— you’re serious?”

“you have a good face for art,” he says simply. “you look like you belong in a painting.”

your cheeks burn, but you sit anyway.

as he sketches, he tells you about his dream to study at an art school here. how he loves the city, the light, the history. how he wants to draw everything before it disappears.

“including me?” you tease.

he glances up, eyes warm. “especially you.”

when he finishes, he tears the page out and offers it to you.

“something to remember florence by,” he says.

you fold it carefully and tuck it into your coat, heart full.

RIKI, TOKYO

tokyo is loud, fast, overwhelming. but somehow, riki finds all the quiet parts.

you meet on a train platform, both waiting for a train that’s delayed by the rain. he’s leaning against a vending machine, earbuds in, hoodie up.

he notices you shivering and wordlessly offers you a hot can of coffee from the machine.

“you looked cold,” he says when you blink at him.

you sit in silence, sipping warm sweetness, watching rain blur the city lights. it’s peaceful. unexpected.

later, he shows you his favorite spots — a quiet bookstore down an alley, a hidden rooftop garden, an arcade open until 2am.

“people always rush here,” he says one night, his voice soft as the wind. “but the good stuff? it’s in the pauses.”

you look at him, the way the city reflects in his eyes. “like this?”

he nods. “yeah. like this.”

and tokyo, for the first time, feels like it’s yours too.

vi says :: i just finished season 6 of gossip girl TT so um new gossip girl themed fic ...?

enhypen taglist :: @nocturnebite @cheruphic @chrrific @jungwonbropls @manariees @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ijustreallylike2read @nicholasluvbot

© CALLIKARI 

[darquette]

⠀ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ SECRET ★ psh

⠀ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “no one will find out about us”

MAGAZINE 𓈒 brother’s bsf!sunghoon x fem!rea 1253 fluff ◜ ᴗ⁠ ◝⁠ kissing est relationship

⠀ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⠀ REBLOG ୨୧ 4 A HUG

groaning at your chemistry homework, you hear your brother’s excited cheers from downstairs. you had already stayed up all night trying to finish this treacherous task your teacher, who almost certainly hated you, had given you to do in the span of only two days— and now your brother was annoying the hell out of you with all the commotion downstairs.

“what do you want heeseung?” you ask him while standing in front of him, unfazed.

“my friends are coming over, so don’t embarrass me.” he tells you, recklessly without a care.

“yeah whatever, its not like i’m going to talk with them anyway.” you respond while walking away, frustrated by the fact that he hates you interacting with any male but him.

annoyed, you go to the kitchen and grab a glass of water, hoping the cool liquid seeping down your throat would cool down your pent up stress, but just as you were about to go upstairs you hear the door open as voices emerge.

“hey yn,” jake, one of your brother’s friends, says coming over to greet you.

“hi jake,” you mumble back, embarrassed that he has to see you in your pyjamas.

after that awkward interaction, you make your way upstairs and you swear you could have felt someone’s hand graze your waist. flustered, you look back only to see your brother and his friends talking nonsense.

you settle down in your chair, ready to work before you hear a voice outside your room, “is yn in here by any chance?” the voice is low and deep, laced with tease and you immediately recognise who it belongs to.

“get out of my room,”

“why not, sweetheart.”

the nickname rolls of his tongue so easily it makes you freeze in place, “i have important work to finish, now don’t distu— ”

he interrupts you, frustration laced in his voice, “yeah right, like i’m not important than that work.” he makes his way onto your bed, plopping himself down comfortably on the corner, eyeing you from head to toe.

“what are you looking at, sunghoon?”

“what, can i not appreciate how pretty my girlfriend looks right now?” the rhetorical question spills from his mouth and the smirk plastered on his face never leaves.

“the second my brother enters this room, me and you,” you point your index finger towards him, “are both dead meat.”

“i can just tell heeseung we are together, i don’t think he’d care.” your boyfriend replies, unfazed while pointing to the spot next to him, gesturing for you to sit next to him.

you blatantly ignore him, turning your attention back to your books, hoping he would let it go— but how wrong you were about that. he swiftly grabs you by the waist positioning you on his lap as he laces his hands around your hips.

embarrassed, you turn to him and retaliate over his grip, “hoon, let me go!”

“you have no way out, you’re stuck with me” he teasingly shoots back and you can hear the snigger in his voice.

as the two of you endlessly bicker, you both hear footsteps gradually get louder by the second, that sounded exactly like your older brother’s. without any hesitation, you grab sunghoon’s tall, large frame and shove him into your wardrobe, hoping you could hide him.

“have you seen sunghoon, he went up ages ago and he still isn’t back,” your brother asks you, cluelessly.

“check the bathroom, he might be there.” you reply with a hint of worry in your voice.

when brother eventually leaves, you finally call for your boyfriend to get out, “park sunghoon, come out of there,” however, to your dismay, sunghoon grabs your hands so now both of you are in the cramped closet.

maybe it’s the heat in the small space or the fact that your bodies are practically touching but your boyfriend looks so hot. his top is clinging onto his abs for dear life, his bangs are stuck to his forehead and you can see the beads of sweat glisten on his temple.

the thought of everything paints your cheeks with a red hue and you yell at him, hoping he wouldn’t realise, “what the hell, sunghoon? we need to get ou— ”

but before you can finish your sentence, he interrupts you, smirk tugging at his face and hand still on your wrist, “you thought by pretending to be mad at me would help cover up your red cheeks? yeah, not a chance,”

you slowly look up to him, batting your eyelashes, only to be met with his heavy, longing gaze. his eyes shamelessly set your lips, as if this was his first time.

but of course, you can’t always let him have his way, “what? is there something you want?” you tease bringing your hands around his neck— his weakest spot.

sunghoon swears his heart skips a beat, the sudden affection making his ears warm, but that smug grin tells you otherwise.

“oh, you know what i want.” his voice demanding and thick, it makes you unconsciously blush.

“and what would that b—”

before you can finish your sentence, you feel two hands cup your jaw and the sensation of his warm, sweet lips on yours. sunghoon loves how you taste. he can’t get enough of your saccharine lips, your addicting scent and the effect you have on him.

your hands tug at his dark locks as you feel his tongue slide into your mouth, exploring you for the nth time. your mind goes hazy, drunk on him, savouring his rich taste. he softly kisses your cheeks, temple and finally your lips one last time before you both break apart looking at each other, breathles.

“fuck, i missed you all week,” sunghoon confesses, his hands never leave your face as he kisses your jaw, “i can’t be without you for more than a day.”

“more than a day, huh?” your heads turn in unison only to find your brother standing at your door.

“heeseung?” you both erupt at the same time, gobsmacked and embarrassed.

“wait, hold up i’ll explain everythi—”

“you thought i didn’t know?”, your brother cuts sunghoon off, shocking the both of you with the confession, “it was so painfully obvious.”

“so you aren’t, mad?” you question him, confused.

“i put my trust in him ages ago, but if he ever makes you cry i’ll beat him up so bad he won’t be able to see you again,”

the threat shakes sunghoon up a little, but makes you let out chuckle— you realise how stupid you both have probably been for heeseung to have known this whole time.

“but please, don’t ever make out in front of my eyes, ever again, that traumatised me.” your face flushes red with embarrassed as you tuck your head into sunghoon’s chest while shooing heeseung out of your room.

sunghoon’s hand snake around your waist and you look up to make eye contact with him before saying, “we should’ve hidden it better, you blew our cover.”

“hey!”, he exclaims, “don’t blame me, we all know that you were awake until one just to be on call with m—” you lay a chaste kiss on his lips, hoping to shut him up.

your boyfriend stares at you in disbelief, before teasing you again with his cocky smirk tainted on his face, “you can’t start something you can’t finish, babe.” and before you knew it his lips were already back on yours, drowning in your taste.

리 𓈒 for jennbuns @tzyunaes mwah

© isoobie + taglist open

[darquette]

ㅤㅤ DEVOURㅤ﹑ㅤpark sunghoon

ㅤ ﹙158O﹚────sunghoon is hot and he doesn ’ t know it ｡⠀

𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗋⠀ 雨，⠀loser vampire bf sunghoon x fem readerㅤ゛AMOUR⠀，skinship, fluff, petnamesㅤ﹙◜ᴗ⁠◝⁠﹚ㅤsunghoon biceps meal yeah .. this is very self indulgent ><

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ REBLOG FOR SMOOCHES !

the eerie silence of the apartment doesn’t escape sunnghoon’s attention. his footsteps feel oddly loud against the tiles, a sigh rolling off his tongue as he steps inside the kitchen; and a familiar voice cuts through the quiet.

“i think you should choke me,”

nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared your dear boyfriend for the words that leave your mouth as soon as he walks out of the shower.

with his head whipping towards you, he freezes in stance— jaw dropped, eyes wide open, head tilted in confusion.

“huh?” sunghoon gives you a questionable look, blinking him to some logic— anything to make sense of your words. “wouldn’t that be life threatening?”

and you shrug. “i could be into that,”

sunghoon doesn’t think he has met anyone like you in his seven hundred something years on earth.

his fangs amused you instead of scaring you the first time he told you he is a vampire. you went around for weeks wanting him to bite you— turn you— but he successfully talked you out of it.

now that you have found a trace of normalcy in the five weeks that you have been dating him, your mind finds amusement in his biceps.

“last time,” he pops a cherry in his mouth, shifting weight from one leg to the other. “you wanted me to headlock you,”

“and that was hot as hell,” you insist, eyes gleaming with mischief. if sunghoon didn’t know any better, he’d think you might have gone insane.

and you could be— evidently— the veins on his arms and hands do nothing except making you gulp, only onto that last string of sanity.

you don’t think your pretty face, vampire of a boyfriend realises just how hot he is, really.

he thinks it’s a plain obsession— well, one is supposed to be obsessed with their lover. he catches you ogling him when he’s changing the bulb and thinks it’s because you want something.

according to sunghoon, there is absolutely no reason for you to zone out while looking at his hands except that they are pretty, well maintained and manicured.

you also don’t think he knows you joined the same gym as him to watch him workout and not to accompany him in following a healthy lifestyle and improving your heart’s health. simply looking at him heals you enough.

even now, he is standing clueless about why your eyes have zoomed in on his biceps. sunghoon stretches his arm, unintentionally flexing his muscles and it drives you crazy. his sweats hang low on his hips and it’s a sight to see.

you need him and he can’t catch a hint.

“so is that a yes or no?” you make your way to the kitchen, standing behind him as he reaches out for the coffee mugs placed on the top shelf.

you wonder if he puts them there deliberately to tease you, giving you that taunting flash of a slip of his waistline as his shirt rides up when he raises his arm.

your boyfriend shakes his head with a sigh, clearly failing to understand the logic behind your request. “you’re weird,”

“just once,”

“no,” a curt reply.

you’re really testing his patience.

“c’mon, sunghoon, it’s—”

“darling,” and it’s quiet again, aside from your heartbeat echoing in your ears when he easily cages you against the counter, between the very arms that make you weak in the knees. “i am not doing anything that risks your life,”

stupid.

you want to tease, explain what you mean, but your words are lost. sunghoon is hot and his lack of self awareness is life threatening because he is standing close— so close, you can feel the scent of his cologne intoxicating your senses.

you can still see the remains of water on his neck, droplets making their way down his skin. his face is a little flushed from the hot shower while yours is from how hot he is making you feel.

sunghoon’s eyes trace your face up and down, almost setting your heart ablaze when you feel his gaze on your lips for a brief second.

“understood?” he mutters, low and quiet, tucking a finger under your chin to make you look at him, eye to eye, soul to soul.

and you can only gulp when he leans a little closer, pressing himself against you. “yes,”

“good girl,” and he’s gone, stepped back, focused on his coffee, once again unaware of how his actions have left you trippy and dazed.

it is quite infuriating because he does not do it knowingly. sunghoon barely tries and your world shifts a little, stomach flipping and chest fluttering.

unaware of your inner turmoil, he turns around and switches on the coffee machine.

your fingers trace over the edge of the counter mindlessly, mind in a trance half because of what happened, and half due to the sight of his muscular back.

another glance— a quiet step in his direction, lower lip tugged between your teeth and your arms snake around his torso from behind, a cheeky grin forming on your lips as you poke his biceps with your index finger. you’ve never been the one to give up. “can i bite?”

and sunghoon gives up, hands up in the air. “babe, i am the vampire in the relationship,”

[darquette]

HEAVEN IS A HOME ੭୧ wherever i am with you

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾

𝟏𝟏𝟗𝟒𝒾──── husband!enhypen 𝗑 f!rea ✿ fluff 𓂋 kissing skinship ❞ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ｡

𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦

HEESEUNG was always a jealous guy. he could never hide if from you and god knows he did try— he doesn’t like when others salivates on what is, legally, his. to be clear, he didn’t marry you for the sole reason of making other men go away. but he did think that putting a huge stone on your finger would have helped. sometimes, it does. sometimes, he needs to step up. because some people don’t get it and have the nerve to flirt with the love of his life while he pays for her clothes. his favorite thing to is to wrap his arm around your shoulders, so the other idiot can see the ring on his finger. he grins when you put your hand over his, the shiny ring on your finger matching his own. then he steals— is it stealing when it was yours in the first place?—you without a second look or a single word. “we are married, hee,” you giggle, not seeming very bothered by his antics. heeseung kisses your temple, “does that asshole know that?”

JONGSEONG has, perhaps like everyone else in the world, a favorite part of the day. he thinks about it during the entirety of the day, the moment he will finally be able to leave work and go back home to his loving wife. the first thing he does when he steps inside the house is to kiss you, perhaps, then take your wrist and drag you to the bedroom. you have never seen him this eager before, it makes you laugh quietly, “what’s the matter with you?” focused on his itinerary, your husband doesn’t hear you and even if he did, you doubt he would answer anyway. the way he pushes you against the bed makes you yelp, “sorry, princess,” he sighs, loosening his tie. then he climbs on top of you. not to kiss or anything. jay puts his entire weight on you, hidings his face in your neck as wraps his arms around your waist. he wants cuddles. “i missed you so much, wife.”

JAEYUN has that very silly tradition of his that stuck in the the relationship even after you promised to stay together for the rest of your life. every single time he takes you on a date, he insists on doing it the old fashioned way. he leaves the house one hour before the date and he shows up at your door when it’s time to go. “do we really need to do all this?” you sigh, yet is unable to hide your smile at the sight of your husband and the flowers in his hands. he stays stunned at the sight of you. his answer dies in his throat. his eyes drag over your form like a scanner. his spirit leaves his body but comes back soon enough, “y–yes we do,” he whispers, leaning in to give you a kiss. you turn your head to the side and laugh at his whine, “i don’t kiss on the first date,” you take the flowers in his hand. he stays stuck in his position for a moment, even after you start walking away, “…so mean.”

SUNGHOON can never leave you alone. he was already very clingy when you were just girlfriend-boyfriend, it went to another level when you engaged and he hasn’t let you breath a single second since you returned from your honeymoon. he acts like you can vanish if he isn’t close to you all the time; it’s lovely, very much so. but his separation anxiety goes as far as following you around when you strictly refuse to talk to him. not only he walks behind you as if he were your own shadow but he gets extremely touchy— if you don’t want to talk to him, you won’t refuse his touch. “stay silent if you still love me,” he wraps his arms around your waist. you don’t answer, chopping your apple with an impeccable precision that makes him scared of you yet very attracted. “good, i love you too,” he smiles against your cheek.

SUNOO makes you extremely mad, actually. not because he did something wrong or because he said something that was out of place— but, because he is so sweet over the slightest thing. his mouth is always full of praise words destined to you. his kindness makes you want to combust. “good morning, my love,” he greets when you walk into the kitchen. his smile is ten times brighter then the sun, you have to squint your eyes at it. “how can you be this adorable?” he asks, honest to god, at your sleepy face. you stop in your tracks, remembering that you are wearing one of his old shirts, that you hair are messy due to how many times you move in your sleep and that you probably drooled on his chest this night. “i’ve never looked nastier,” you huff, walking to him. he kisses the top of your head, “hey, don’t talk like this about my wife.”

JUNGWON doesn’t answer when you call him by petnames. it’s absolutely not because he doesn’t like them. he was the first one to get red in the face whenever you used to call him pretty boy at the beginning of your relationship— and he still gets shy when you call him baby. he just decided that he won’t answer when you will call him that anymore. “jungwon,” you call. he doesn’t answer. although he is sitting right next to you in the couch, with his arm around your shoulders. he chews on his popcorn like you don’t exist. “babe,” you try again. it’s in vain. he still doesn’t want to answer. you run all the petnames you have for him through your head, but you have the feeling that he won’t answer until you call him that favorite name of his. “…husband,” you call again and his head snaps directly to your direction. “yes, my gorgeous wife,” his wife grin tells you that you are feeding his happiness a lot. all this because you wanted the remote…

RIKI is aware that marrying young isn’t something that is common. he knows that people his age have other things to do that propose to each other— but he grew up to be eager and impatient for the things he want. he married you as soon as he could. he is honestly very proud of this. his wife is the first thing he talks about the people he is just me. and it’s frustrating when they refuse to believe your actual existence. whether he shows them the ring, the wedding pictures and everything. you eventually become of a victim of riki’s failure to convince people he is married to you. usually, he just calls you for confirmation and he did. but some people need further proof. therefore, since you are in the same area as him, he tells you to come meet him. he pulls you close to his side by his hands on your hips, “i told you my wife was very much real and very pretty, no?” (truth is, he just really loves to show you off)

분지 ܃ if your husband is not obsessed with the fact he is your husband, divorce and take everything he owns 💌 because .. what?

taglist open 。

[darquette]

oh boy i sure do love having tons of trinkets

the nefarious dust particle:

[darquette]

second law ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ s.j.y

❀ ◦ paring ◦ tutor loser jake x reader ❀ ◦ genre ◦ fluff crack ❀ ◦ synopsis ◦ jake learns that some forces--especially her--can't be calculated. ❀ ◦ warnings ◦ extremely corny and cheesy hehehe ❀ ◦ word count ◦ 3.3k

❀ ◦ masterlist

❀ ◦ note ◦ this one is really corny n cheesy, couldnt help myself im such a sucker for loser nerd jake :D hehe thank you @lovegreenie for beta reading <3 ❀ ◦ taglist ◦ @kristynaaah @beenusflytrap @nari-roll

You always had great grades, the model student people looked up to or envied.

So how the hell did you end up needing a tutor?

Physics. that’s how. no matter how hard you tried, your grades kept sinking, dragging down your otherwise perfect record.

"I don’t understand," you mutter, staring at your latest test. "I study, I try-"

"Which is exactly why it’s frustrating," your professor sighs, adjusting his glasses. "you're brilliant, yet physics keeps holding you back."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "I’ve done every extra worksheet, every review session-"

"Which is why I’m assigning you a tutor."

"A tutor??" you exclaim, deflated. never in your life did you think you’d need one.

And that’s how you ended up here. in the library. waiting for him.

Sim Jaeyun. The quiet, keep-to-himself guy with a small circle of friends. The one who nerds out over anything and everything science and math. Hooray.

No one really paid much attention to him, except for those who picked on him. You never really had a reason to notice him either. But you had to admit, even with all that awkward energy, he was still ridiculously good-looking.

And yet, that said attractive nerd was 15 minutes late.

The library was eerily quiet. Most students had already left, the after-school emptiness making the stillness even more pronounced.

Suddenly, a loud thump broke the silence.

You turned toward the libary entrance just in time to see jake stumbling in, books slipping from his arms, backpack barely clinging to his shoulder, papers fluttering to the floor.

wow. what a mess.

You immediately stood up and rushed over to help him pick up his things.

Jake's eyes widened as he finally registered who was crouching beside him. Miss Perfect, the girl everyone admired (or feared), mere inches away.

"oh no- I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to- you don’t have to-"

He paused, staring at you.

wow she looks prettier close up-

jake. SNAP OUT OF IT-

"What? oh no, it’s fine, let me help." you say, crouching down to pick up the scattered papers.

"I- woah, wait- are you here for tutoring?" The boy in front of you pauses, eyes widening in shock as he hurriedly pushes his thick-framed glasses back up his nose.

You nod slowly, just as confused as he is. "yes…? you’re my tutor…"

"Oh- yes- uhm- I’m so sorry I’m late!" jake stammers, clearly flustered. "Professor Kim needed my help with some files, and then I had to drop off books at the teachers’ lounge, and then I bumped into junho, seojin, and the other jocks, and then-"

"Woah, okay, calm down, jake. it’s fine. catch your breath, you’re turning red" you cut him off, grabbing the last of the papers that flew everywhere.

Jake exhales sharply, still looking beyond apologetic. "I’m so sorry, we can start now- I didn’t mean to hold you up." He bows slightly before mumbling a quick thank you, then makes his way toward the study table.

And let’s be real, you were the one holding him here. After all, you were the one who needed tutoring after class hours.

You raise an eyebrow before following after him, both of you settling into your seats, awkward tension thick in the air.

"So, um… nice to meet you, jake. I’m-"

"Miss model student…" he cuts you off, catching you completely off guard. Your mouth falls open, frozen in place.

"Oh- uh- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt" jake stammers. "I was just… curious. you’re, like, the top student, so I was confused when I saw you were scheduled for tutoring with me…"

Clearly, your reputation preceded you- maybe a little too much.

"Yeah, well, I’m not perfect" you sigh, rubbing your temple. "physics has been eating me out lately."

Jake stiffens. his face flushes. his mind had clearly gone somewhere else.

Noticing his reaction, you sit up abruptly, waving your hands. "I mean- physics has just been really difficult…" you clarify, trying to clear the air.

Jake coughs, avoiding eye contact. "I uh- you- anyways! let’s just start, yeah?" He fumbles to open his physics textbook, practically using it as a shield to hide his face.

You raise an eyebrow, amused. "wow, already hiding? what, scared of me or the equations?"

Jake exhales dramatically. "you and physics. a deadly combination."

"Rude. I’m very approachable."

"Sure" jake snorts, flipping a page.

And just like that, tutoring begins.

Jake rambles on and on about different lessons, effortlessly explaining formulas and theories. In all honesty, you were shocked by how good he was at tutoring, his words flowed naturally, making even the most complicated concepts kind of make sense.

Your jumbled confusion on each topic slowly but surely started clearing up.

And that’s how it went for the next few weeks, meeting after class, studying together. The awkward air between you gradually faded as you got closer, sometimes taking breaks just to chat about the most random things.

At first, tutoring felt like a chore. but after a few sessions? jake realizes he kinda likes sitting here with you.

Maybe it’s the way you scribble furiously in your notebook. maybe it’s the way your brow furrows when you’re thinking.

Or maybe…just maybe. it’s the fact that you’re actually listening to him.

Somewhere between lessons and lingering study sessions, tutoring stopped feeling like an obligation.

Before jake knew it, you were part of his routine, eating lunch together, sometimes with his friends, sometimes without. ✧˖°.

Today was warm, the cafeteria buzzing with students, some focused on getting their nutrients for the day, others cramming like their lives depended on it.

And here you were, sitting at jake’s table with his buddies, eating pasta while reviewing for your upcoming test. jake was doing the same, his head buried in his notes.

Then, out of nowhere, a crumpled piece of paper hit him.

"Loser" junho sneered from the other table, his fellow jocks chuckling along.

Jake sighed, pulling the paper from his hair while his friends shot the jock a look of pure disgust.

"Don’t mind him, dude. he’s just a stupid, insecure jerk" sunghoon muttered.

You pick up the crumpled paper, rolling it between your fingers for a moment, then, with precise aim, you flick it back onto their table.

It lands with a heavy plop, right into junho’s tray.

Sauce splashes everywhere, streaking across the table, his shirt-

and right into his eye.

Junho jerks back, hissing through clenched teeth as he wipes his face.

The jocks freeze, stunned into silence, one of them lets out a snort, barely holding back a chuckle as junho wipes sauce from his eye.

Jake stares at you, full-body stunned.

"You know" you hum, you turn back to him and grabbing your notes, "newton’s third law says every action has an equal and opposite reaction."

You shoot Jake a knowing look.

"Consider that my demonstration."

Jake nearly chokes on air.

Holy shit. That was attractive.

All of a sudden, jay plops down beside jake, sighing dramatically.

"I’m so screwed. I haven’t studied for this exam at all."

"Same here" sunghoon mumbles, sipping his juice box. "I’m just gonna wing it at this point."

"Says you-" heeseung scoffs. "you could easily get a sports scholarship with your ice skating or whatever."

"Yeah, well, you probably need to maintain good grades either way to keep a scholarship, no?" jungwon muses, taking a bite out of his ham and cheese sandwich.

That’s when jay suddenly turns to you and jake, clasping his hands together in desperation.

"You gotta help me, guys. I cannot fail this" he pleads, pulling his best pouty face.

You let out a light chuckle while jake rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Maybe you should’ve thought of that before the test instead of right now" you remark, flipping a page in your book.

Jay only pouts harder before scooting closer to jake, peeking at his notes.

"What the- when did we even learn this?" jay’s face contorts in horror, barely comprehending the sheer complexity of jake’s notes.

"Oh, you are so cooked" jungwon laughs.

"Don’t act like you know what any of this means" jay retorts, picking up jake’s notebook and shoving it toward heeseung, jungwon, and sunghoon.

"I was reading that" jake deadpans, his lips pressed into a tight line.

"Oh shit, we are so cooked" sunghoon mutters as heeseung’s eyes widen at the mess of equations, symbols, and absolute nonsense scrawled across the pages.

The bickering between the four continues while you glance over at jake, who just wanted his notebook back. He’s pouting slightly.

Cute.

You tap Jake’s shoulder before sliding your notebook toward him.

"You can use my notes. they may not be exactly the same, but I’m sure they’re close enough" you say with a small smile.

Jake looks at you, a soft blush creeping onto his face.

"Oh- you didn’t have to- uhm- thank you" he stammers, smiling sheepishly as he takes the notebook and flips it open.

You scoot closer so you can both scan through the pages together, an innocent gesture on your part, but one that makes Jake short-circuit instantly.

He clears his throat, trying desperately to keep his cool.

Then, you start talking.

"I’m kinda scared for the physics test later" you mumble softly, glancing at him. The closeness doesn’t seem to bother you at all, meanwhile, jake is actively trying not to tweak out right then and there.

"You got this" he reassures, forcing himself to sound normal. "you studied hard for this. And all thanks to your amazing tutor." he wiggles his eyebrows playfully, trying to act smooth and nonchalant.

You giggle. "you’re right. thanks, yunie" you say, flashing him a smile before turning back to your notes.

Oh.

Oh, that nickname did numbers on him.

Jake really tries to focus on the words in the notebook… he really, REALLY does. but the words blur into meaningless scribbles. Velocity, acceleration, force-

Why did every physics term suddenly sound like it was describing his heart rate?

He is so down bad.

Not to mention, you’re extremely close to him right now.

How could someone so smart, so cool, so pretty be sitting this close to him?

Then, the bell rings.

Jake snaps out of his daze, blinking rapidly.

Crap.

So much for reviewing.

You get up and pack your things. "good luck to all of us" you say to the group.

"We lost the war before it even began" jay sighs in defeat.

"nice try, soldier" jungwon laughs, patting jay’s back in mock sympathy.

"See you guys in the afterlife" heeseung declares dramatically before walking off with sunghoon.

Just as you’re about to leave, jake gently places his hands on your shoulders, catching you off guard.

You turn to him, only to find him looking straight into your eyes, his soft smile warm and reassuring. His lips look plumper than usual-

Woah. What.

You snap out of it, quickly refocusing.

"You got this. I know you’re gonna ace this test" jake says, flashing that award-winning golden retriever smile, the one you’ve come to love and admire.

"Thank you, yunie. we got this" you smile back, determination running through you.

With that, you both head your separate ways, nervous, but confident.

✧˖°.

It had been a week, and to say you were nervous was an understatement.

You sat in your classroom, your friends chatting beside you, but you barely registered their voices. Your leg bounced up and down impatiently, eyes glued to the front, waiting for your latest physics test grade to drop.

The professor walked in, prompting everyone to rush to their seats.

"Okay, everyone! moment of truth. test grades" your professor announced, placing a thick stack of papers down on the desk.

One by one, names were called.

Then finally… yours.

You swallowed hard, standing up and making your way to the front.

This was it. the moment you had been waiting for. if you failed this, you’d be stuck with a C for the whole semester. which wasn’t the worst, but of course… you had standards.

You reached out for your paper, mentally preparing yourself.

And so what if you fail? It’s just a grade. grades don’t define you! what matters is that you tried your best. sure, you might be disappointed, but at least you didn’t give up. failing isnt the worse thing to happen, it just means you have more time to improve and do better next time-

"Well done. You passed with flying colors.” your professor said with a smile, handing you your paper.

An A.

A solid 92%.

No flippin way.

The moment class ended, you bolted out the door, excitement rushing through you.

And you only had one person in mind.

One person to thank.

Jake.

You looked around everywhere, scanning the halls, the field, anywhere he might be.

That’s when you stumbled upon Jay and Jungwon.

"Hey, have you guys seen jake? I’ve been looking for him everywhere" you panted, slightly out of breath.

"Oh, he rushed to the locker room. forgot his soccer uniform or something" jungwon responded.

You quickly thanked them before making your way toward the field locker room.

"Jake?" you called out, walking past the building near the soccer field. you were about to call out again when you heard it, voices coming from inside.

At first, you didn’t pay much attention.

Until you realized what they were talking about.

"You think you can just get away from me and stop being my personal puppy dog just because you have a girlfriend now? How did a low-life nerd like you even pull Miss Perfect?"

Seojin. one of those jocks.

You peeked into the locker room, heart pounding, only to see three jocks surrounding jake.

"I bet she doesn’t even like you" junho chuckled. "Probably just using you to keep her grades up."

"That’s not true" jake sighed, clearly exhausted and done with the whole charade.

Seojin laughed, stepping closer.

"Did you willingly kneel before her? follow her commands like the pushover you are? or did she seduce you or something? she looks like a sl—"

WACK.

Jake’s fist collided with Seojin’s face, the sharp impact echoing through the locker room.

You gasped softly, eyes widening in shock.

Seojin stumbled back, crashing onto the floor, while the other jocks froze, completely caught off guard by jake’s sudden action.

Jake exhaled sharply, his jaw clenched.

"Watch your mouth." he said lowly, stepping toward seojin, who was still on the ground.

"Talk me down, beat me up, do whatever you want. but don’t speak ill about her."

And with that, he turned and walked away.

You barely had time to process what had just happened before jake stepped outside, only to immediately spot you.

His eyes widened.

"What are you doing here?" jake asks, his voice laced with panic.

He looks truly petrified at the thought of you witnessing what had just happened in the locker room.

You just stare at him, like a deer caught in headlights.

"How long were you out here?" he asks again, softer this time.

"Long enough to see you punch seojin" you say, laughing lightly.

Jake’s soul visibly leaves his body.

Before you can say anything else, he grabs your wrist and drags you away from the locker room, leading you to a bench across the field.

Now seated, jake nervously fiddles with his fingers, looking everywhere but at you.

A moment of silence passes before he finally speaks.

"Did you hear what seojin said about you?"

You glance at him, a slight pout forming on your lips.

"Well… yeah, I did" you admit softly. "what he said is completely untrue, by the way. I’d never use you, jake."

Jake sighs, running a hand through his hair. The last thing he ever wanted was for you to get caught in his mess.

"I know" he murmurs. "I just can’t stand it when they talk badly about you."

You tilt your head, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“aww you care about me.” you smirk.

Jake playfully rolls his eyes at you.

"Keep this up, and I might start thinking you actually like me" you joke.

Jake exhales sharply, staring down at his hands.

"Yeah, well… maybe I do."

Your breath catches slightly.

Jake’s eyes widen, like he just realized what he said.

"OH- I mean, I don’t like you- no, I mean, I like and care about you, but not in that way. Or maybe in that way? I mean, yes, I do care for you, but ‘like’ is a big word, and you know, as a friend- so maybe I don’t like you? But I definitely do-"

Jake immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, effectively stopping himself from any further blabbering.

His face is fully red. His ears burning.

You stare at him, jaw slack, a blush of your own creeping onto your cheeks.

You blink at Jake, completely stunned.

Jake stares at you.

You stare at Jake.

Then without warning, he jumps up from the bench and starts sprinting across the field.

"JAKE?!" you yell, utterly baffled.

"Im sorry im not ready for this conversation yet!" he shouts over his shoulder, running like his life depends on it.

You groan, but instead of letting him escape, you take off after him.

"You don’t get to confess and flee, you coward!" you holler, feet pounding against the grass.

Jake shrieks, like actually shrinks, when he realizes you’re chasing him.

The two of you tear across the field in a ridiculous chase, neither willing to slow down. until jake realizes you’re actually catching up.

Panicking, he twists mid-run and blurts out, "okay fine i like you! stop chasing me!"

You stumble slightly, but keep running, laughing breathlessly. "then stop running and say it like a normal person!"

Jake comes to a stop, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. You skid to a stop beside him, arms crossed, waiting.

He looks up, cheeks flushed, eyes soft.

"I like you" he says, finally, properly.

You stare at him for a moment…

"Good, because I like you too" you grin.

Jake blinks. "wait… really??"

You laugh, nudging his shoulder. "yes you idiot."

Jake lets out a choked gasp, processing the moment, before dramatically falling onto the grass like he’s just been slain.

"I cannot believe this" he groans, staring up at the sky. "I nearly DIED from embarrassment just for you to like me back this whole time?"

You burst into laughter, collapsing onto the grass beside him.

"Maybe if you stopped running, you wouldn’t have suffered so much" you tease.

Jake turns his head to glare at you, breath still uneven.

"Never chase me again" he grumbles. "You are fucking terrifying when you’re running after me."

Despite the complaint, a small, sheepish smile tugs at his lips.

Jake dramatically throws his hands over his eyes. "I think this is the most emotionally exhausting tutoring session of my life."

You snort, nudging his arm. "tutoring? Pretty sure chasing you across the field wasn’t part of the lesson plan.”

"Actually 🤓☝️" Jake says, lifting a finger, "newton’s second law states that force equals mass times acceleration. In this scenario, your terrifying speed was the accelaration, my flimsy self was the mass, and the sheer impact of realizing I really, really like you was the force."

You blink at him. "did you just-"

Jake grins, finally sitting up. "see? I taught you physics and confessed my love all in one session. multi-talented."

You roll your eyes, laughing. "If only all your physics lessons were this entertaining."

"I’ll make them entertaining every time if it means you keep looking at me like that" jake murmurs, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

You pause, heat creeping up your face.

Jake’s eyes flicker with realization, and suddenly-

"Oh- i uhm- did I say that out loud-?”

more works here -> masterlist

[darquette]

୨ৎ ─── GET YOU

✎ᝰ .ᐟ Enhypen as your bf headcanon

HEESEUNG | JAY | JAKE | SUNGHOON | SUNOO | JUNGWON | RIKI

[ ✧ CW ✧ ] fluff, chaos, and a man deeply down bad, g!n reader (?) I don’t think the gender is specified

LiBRARY ## HEAD.c

This was so fun to write 😭

🧃 The Chill-Turned-Down-Bad Start

When you first met, you thought he was that calm, mysterious boy who probably journals about the meaning of life and listens to lo-fi jazz in his room with LED lights. And yeah… you were right. For like, two weeks. Then he accidentally tripped over your bag, did a dramatic “I HAVE FALLEN FOR YOU” on the floor, and you saw a glimpse of the idiot within. From then on, it was game over. He decided you were the one. He told Jay this with complete confidence while wearing Pikachu socks and a mouth full of Pocky.

🍜 Dates With Heeseung Be Like

Think: 50% actual romance, 50% utter chaos. Candlelit dinner? Sure. But he will dramatically say, “This reminds me of our wedding.” (You’re literally in your 20s and eating at Olive Garden.) Movie nights are sweet until he starts reciting the lines with the characters. Or worse guessing them and getting it right. Every. Single. Time. He makes you ramen and tells you he “poured his soul” into it. It’s literally instant ramen, but it’s somehow… better? Heeseung magic.

📱Texting Heeseung: A Horror Story

Sends you 47 memes a day. 38 of them are about ducks. You still don’t know why. You stopped asking after the duck dream he had that “changed his life.” “Good morning, my love 😚💗🌞🌸🌼🐥🐣🌸💗💞💘💓” Sent. At. 4. A.M. He has a very cursed notes app where he keeps nicknames for you. It includes: "My Little Toaster Strudel" "Cuddle Goblin" "The CEO of My Heart, LLC"

🎮 Gamer Boyfriend Heeseung

Yes, he games. Yes, he’s cracked. Yes, he forces you to play co-op games so he can “protect you.” Yells “I GOT YOU BABE” before running into a trap and dying instantly. But if anyone says anything remotely rude to you in chat? He becomes Satan. Voice lowers. Words sharp. You’ve never seen an online user get verbally destroyed so fast. He lets you win sometimes but pretends you beat him fair and square. Then gets revenge in Mario Kart. Mercilessly.

🐥 Love Language? Annoying the Hell Out of You

He pokes your cheek until you give him attention. Whispers “I love you” in the creepiest voice possible while you’re brushing your teeth. Starts fake arguments just to hear your annoyed voice. “No but like—why would you pick Charmander over Bulbasaur??” Steals your clothes. All of them. He looks better in your hoodie than you. It’s unfair.

🧸 But Also… A Secret Softie

Tells you he loves you like 16 times a day, casually. “Love you. Bye. Also bring me banana milk.” Has a folder in his phone of your candid pics. He labeled it “Proof I Scored.” You found it and almost cried because he literally labeled each photo. Stuff like: “Her smile when I said she’s my favorite person” “When she saw the puppy at the park” “The day she said she likes me more than ramen 😭” Whenever you’re sad, he drops everything. EVERYTHING. Even if he’s in the middle of gaming, he’s like: “Nope. Pause. My girl’s upset. Priorities.”

🛏️ Late-Night Chaos & Comfort

Lying in bed at night is either: You cuddling in silence while he plays with your hair and whispers sweet things like “I’m glad you exist.” Or you two laughing so hard at a dumb inside joke that you accidentally wake up the neighbors. Heeseung will tuck you in and say, “Good night, love of my life, mother of our imaginary dog, the moon to my star—” “Heeseung, shut up.” “Okay. But I still love you more than cheese.”

👨‍🍳 Domestic Heeseung Is Real

He can cook. Not like a chef, but enough to make your heart go boom. Tries to bake cookies but forgets the sugar. You eat them anyway. Wears matching aprons with you. Posts it on the group chat. Sunghoon leaves immediately. Jake sends 🧎 emojis. Does your laundry sometimes but gets distracted halfway through because he found an old shirt of yours that “smells like heaven.”

🎤 Idol Things + You

If you show up at a fansign? He breaks character IMMEDIATELY. The staff is like ??? while he beams at you like a puppy. Will 100% write your initials on his setlist or sneak a reference to your favorite color into his outfit. Fans catch on. You get a fanbase too. During live streams: “Who’s your favorite person?” “Oh, Y/N. Easy.” Silence. Confused blinks. “Wait, I mean—uh—my mom?” Too late. Twitter is exploding.

💌 TL;DR:

Heeseung as your boyfriend is the perfect mix of sweet, soft, and absolutely unhinged. He’s the type who would give you the last bite of his ramen and pretend he didn’t cry watching a Pixar movie. He’s clingy in the most adorable way, makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, and genuinely, without a single doubt, loves you like you’re his entire world. Even if he does send you 3 a.m. memes about ducks.

[darquette]

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐘𝐍‎𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄 ;; " 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 ! "

// 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ‘𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽’ 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 ✧

ㅤ( 𝟤𝟣𝟨𝟣 ) fluff, f!reader, established relationships, flirting, lots of offended boyfriends lol ── 𝖡𝖮𝖮𝖪𝖲𝖧𝖤𝖫𝖥 ｡⠀

✶ LEE HEESEUNG 

it’s late, and you’re both sprawled out across heeseung’s bed, legs tangled somewhere in the sheets. the glow of your phone screen keeps casting soft shadows across his face. he’s got his arm resting loosely over your stomach, his thumb tracing thoughtless circles just above the hem of your shirt. the soft scent of detergent fills your senses, and you fight the urge to burrow your face into his skin. 

heeseung’s half-awake. he scrolls with one hand, his lashes low and mouth parted slightly as you shift beside him and prop your phone up against a pillow. you hit record without ceremony, turning just enough to smile at the camera.

“just winding down with my current boyfriend,” you murmur, light and easy.

there’s a pause, in which he blinks a couple times and then turns his head toward you: eyes soft, expression unreadable, his thumb still idly moving against your side.

“…current?” he repeats, voice rough with sleep.

you hum. he holds your gaze for a long moment; not offended, not jealous, just faintly amused. then he lets out a breathy laugh, shifting to rest on one elbow. the blanket falls slightly off his shoulder.

“huh,” he says. “current’s a weird word for someone who keeps stealing my clothes.”

you grin at him. “they’re comfy.”

“mm.” he pauses like he’s considering something. “so is exclusivity.”

you laugh, nudging his shoulder, and he’s still watching you with a lazy, half-lidded look, the kind  he gets when he’s on the edge of falling asleep and still doesn’t want to miss anything.

“you want me to say last boyfriend?” you ask.

he shrugs, but his fingers tap twice against your wrist, all soft and rhythmic. “you don’t have to.”

“but you’d like it.”

“...i’d like it,” he says, simple and sure.

your smile softens. heeseung shifts closer again, pressing a kiss just under your jaw before settling back into the pillow, his voice quiet as he adds:

“just in case you forget where home is.”

✶ PARK JONGSEONG 

you’re leaning against the kitchen island while jay finishes plating up dinner, the sleeves of his button-down rolled up and gold ring glinting on his hand as he reaches for the pepper grinder.

your phone is already recording before he glances up, catching your eye.

“filming again?” he asks, amused.

“mhm,” you hum. “just getting a clip with my current boyfriend.”

he freezes. not just a little pause—a full on, blank stare. he doesn’t even blink.

you watch, holding back a laugh, as his expression flickers through at least five emotions.

then, very seriously: “you mean husband.”

“husband?” you laugh, incredulous. “you’re my current boyfriend.”

jay sets the pepper grinder down with surgical precision, walking over to you like a man on a mission.

“say it with me,” he starts, holding up one finger. “H.”

“jay—”

“U.”

you’re giggling now, but he’s persistent, stepping closer, one hand bracing on the counter beside your waist.

“come on. you wanna do this on camera? let’s do it right. say: husband. i’ll even do the dishes.”

you raise a brow. “just for that?”

he leans in, voice low against your ear. “also because i love you more than anyone on earth and your mom already likes me. but mostly the dishes.”

✶ SIM JAKE 

it’s golden hour, the sky split open in orange and peach, and jake’s standing barefoot on the patio with one hand on his hip and the other brandishing a pair of tongs like a weapon. he’s got an apron on and his sleeves are pushed up just enough to show the veins on his forearm. the air is filled with the tantalizing scent of grilled meat and seasoning, a light breeze fluttering your hair.

you’re sitting on a cooler, filming him from behind your lemonade.

“just grilling with my current boyfriend,” you say casually, zooming in on the way he flips a burger. he glances over his shoulder, unblinking.

“yep,” jake says, cool as ever. “me and my girlfriend at the moment.”

you pause, and he flashes an innocent smile at the camera. “she’s on a trial run. depends on how these burgers turn out.”

“oh my god.”

“what?” he shrugs, teasing.

you try to act annoyed,  but he’s already walking over with a plate of food, nudging your knee with his hip so you’ll make room for him. he sits beside you, setting a plate down in front of you. “you get the first one. for old time’s sake.”

you stare at him, unimpressed. “we’re still dating.”

“for now,” he says, ignoring his own words and biting into your burger.

“you’re insufferable.”

he wipes his mouth with a paper towel, grin crooked. “but still your boyfriend… currently.”

✶ PARK SUNGHOON 

you’re both in the bathroom getting ready to go out. the mirror lights are on full blast, hair tools scattered across the counter, and the air smells like his cologne and your perfume layered on top of each other. he’s standing behind you in a crisp button-down, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve with impeccable focus.

you set your phone up on the edge of the sink, press record, and lean slightly into the frame with a small smile.

“filming a quick ootd with my current boyfriend,” you say casually, tilting the camera to catch both of you in the mirror.

you’re smiling. he’s not. his fingers pause on the second cuff, gaze flicking up to the mirror. not at the camera, not at you, just a slow, almost imperceptible blink like he’s just been personally wronged by god.

you try to stifle a laugh. “hoon?”

no answer. he inhales slowly through his nose, finishes the cuff, and then continues his routine like nothing happened. except now, he’s noticeably quieter and calmer, almost eerily composed.

“...what?” you prompt again, already giggling. “you’re not gonna say anything?”

he finally speaks, his voice polite: “you’re gonna want to run that back.”

you lose it.

cut to a second clip.

same mirror, same lighting. but this time, sunghoon’s standing closer, arms crossed loosely over his chest, one brow lifted at the camera. you hold the phone up properly now, barely containing your smile. “filming a quick ootd with my husband,” you say sweetly.

he nods once, solemnly. you turn the camera toward him. “anything you want to say?”

he looks directly into the lens, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.

“just that i accept your apology. and that i’ll be changing the dinner reservation name to mr. and mrs. park.”

✶ KIM SUNOO 

you’re curled up together on the couch in your usual configuration: legs tangled under a shared blanket, your foot tucked beneath his thigh, his head propped up on a throw pillow that he fluffed to perfection before sitting down. the TV is playing something you’ve both already seen three times, which means sunoo is only half paying attention, scrolling his phone with idle little pouts at whatever he’s reading, his fingertips occasionally brushing yours like he just wants to make sure you’re still there.

he looks peaceful, relaxed, and completely unsuspecting. it’s perfect. 

you smile to yourself and lean over slightly, propping your phone up against the base of a candle on the coffee table. you clear your throat just enough to get his attention.

“just relaxing with my current boyfriend!” you coo.

you don’t even get to blink before sunoo’s head snaps up so fast you swear you almost get second-hand whiplash. “current boyfriend?”

you nod. he lets out an indignant gasp so dramatic it startles the cat lounging on the arm of your couch.

“current?”

“yeah,” you say sweetly. “just for now.”

he yanks your phone from where it’s sitting and stares into the camera like he’s on a reality show. “for the record, i’d like to say i’m being emotionally manipulated.”

“sunoo—”

“no. no. because i have done nothing but love her. i let her wear my moisturizer. my laneige. the expensive one. i call her pretty every day.” he turns to you now, eyes wide with betrayal. “do you know how many people want to be me?”

you’re laughing so hard you nearly fall off the couch. he reluctantly lets you pull him back, though not before delivering one final glance at the phone and whispering:

“delete it. or caption it current boyfriend who deserves better.” 

✶ YANG JUNGWON 

your room is quiet except for the soft shuffle of notebook pages and the occasional scratch of your highlighter dragging across text. the two of you are camped out on the floor, your legs draped over his as he leans back on one hand, casually quizzing you on terms you definitely should’ve memorized three days ago.

he’s halfway through peeling the corner of a granola bar wrapper when you set your phone on the edge of your nightstand, screen angled just barely toward the two of you. it’s subtle. he clocks it, but doesn’t say anything. you click record.

“study night with my current boyfriend,” you announce softly, eyes still on your notes.

jungwon doesn’t miss a beat. he finishes unwrapping the granola bar, breaks it in half, and offers you the bigger piece without looking up.

“hmm,” he hums. “temporary. that’s new.”

you glance at him. he’s still reading over your notes, impassive, like you didn’t just call him disposable to the internet.

“nothing to say about that?” you tease, poking at his knee with your foot.

he finally looks up, entirely unaffected, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly.

“should i be worried?” he asks, tone light, eyes sharp. “is this the part where you trade me in for someone who doesn’t double check your citations?”

you laugh, but he’s already pulling a highlighter from the pile and uncapping it for you.

“no, really,” he continues, gesturing toward your notes. “write that down. that’s good. current boyfriend. sounds professional. clinical. a little sterile, but i’m sure devon will love it.”

“who the hell is devon?”

“your next boyfriend,” he replies easily. “hopefully he likes sour gummies. i just trained you out of the orange ones.”

you’re already losing it, giggling into your sleeve, and he just shakes his head, flipping back to your vocab list like this is all part of a recurring bit he’s well-versed in.

“let me know if he needs my login for the quizlet,” he adds absently. “seems rude to leave him hanging.”

you reach for his arm, pulling him toward you with a laugh, and he lets you, leaning in close with that same unbothered grin.

“mm,” he murmurs, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “current boyfriend, huh?”

you grin at him. “maybe.”

he leans in, tapping his pen lightly against your forehead.

“then i guess i better make you fall in love with me again tonight.”

✶ NISHIMURA RIKI 

he’s deep into a match when you come in, his legs folded pretzel-style in his desk chair, controller balanced loosely between his hands. he’s got his headset pushed down around his neck so you can hear both the game audio and his occasional muttered commentary. the screen casts a glow across his face, all cool blues and blinking reds, but he still looks impossibly pretty like this. focused, relaxed, and completely in his element.

you snake your arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing your cheek to the side of his head. he doesn’t startle, just shifts slightly to let you in closer before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, tapping something on the controller with the practiced ease of someone who could do this with his eyes closed.

“say hi,” you whisper near his ear, already angling your phone to catch both of you in the shot. “this is my current boyfriend.”

he glances at the screen, grinning without missing a beat. “yo.”

you snort, turning to look at him. he catches your movement in the corner of his eye.

“what? you think you’re slick?”

you hum innocently. he turns his head a little more now, squinting at you. “fine. run that back. say final.”

you laugh, already shaking your head. “final?”

“i’m not getting replaced,” he murmurs, mock-offended.

you try to answer, but the laughter bubbles up too fast to stop. he clicks something on his controller, dies instantly in-game, and turns to face you immediately. he points a finger at your phone camera, which is still recording.

“hey. first and final.”

you laugh. “riki—” 

“no, no. it’s fine.” he leans back dramatically, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “i’ll just reinvent myself real quick. learn french or something. start doing pilates. maybe become emotionally unavailable and change my name to something mysterious like... lucien.”

you snort, forehead pressing into the curve of his shoulder. “you already dye your hair every six weeks. you don’t need to be more mysterious.”

“exactly,” he says, with the kind of confident shrug that suggests this was his point all along. “i’m the final boyfriend. nobody’s falling for your little prank.”

© cinnahoons please do not steal, plagiarize, or reupload my work.

[darquette]

hes so cutie baby kitty meow nom nom nom