lveegsoi

[lveegsoi]

The Diner, The Cat and The Girl That Played Mahjong

aka, the mahjong agenda

Pairing: [Diner owners!Sunghoon and Jake x mahjong player!student!fem!reader]!Hong Kong

TW/N | 26k- love triangle, strangers to lovers, age gap, forbidden love, found family, very wholesome | I loved writing this fic but it’s also that I had no clue how to write the fic. I’ve never done love triangles before and the choices I made in the relationships here kinda made it harder I think. I hope you enjoy reading it, even if the dots don’t seem to connect or the lines don’t seem to tie. It’s just very wholesome | nainai means grandma in Cantonese | inspired by many things- Wong kar wai, Murakami, Student of the year (movie), Challengers (movie) and a lot more but I can’t seem to remember. Enjoy!

Summary: Sunghoon and Jake found each other when they needed support the most. And they made a great pair, though the logistics didn’t make sense to most people. They opened a diner together, they lived together, did everything together. Nothing could tear them apart. Until Y/N came in with her shy smiles, impressive mahjong skills and a mundane presence that seemed to settle into the diner and both of their lives.

or, who gets the girl?

i. the diner

The first time Sunghoon and Jake met, they were both working in the same building- different jobs, though. It was a rooftop job site in Mong Kok, one of the densest, loudest neighborhoods in Hong Kong. 

Sunghoon had picked up short-term kitchen work at a failing fusion joint that fancied itself avant-garde. It was the kind of place that plated rice like art but paid in delays and insults. The head chef yelled in English, called coriander “cilantro,” and acted like he’d invented fire. The sous-chef spent more time arranging microgreens with tweezers than actually cooking anything.

Sunghoon kept his head down, worked the grill, and bit his tongue when the manager called him “too local.”

He wondered, more often than he cared to admit, if this was the cost he paid for not going to college. For choosing wok burns and minimum wage over lecture halls and hollow degrees. For giving up his shot in education so his younger sister could have one.

That decision- noble, maybe, but tiring- haunted him most on nights like these, when his body ached but nothing he made had any soul in it. He was good at what he did. He knew he was good. His hands were precise, his instincts sharp. He could tell when oil was hot enough just by the sound of the sizzle.

But here? His cooking was being used for waste. For showy dishes with smoked foam and edible flowers. For tourists who’d never eaten from a street cart and called every bite authentic. For critics who photographed his food but never looked at him.

Sometimes, during a slow shift, he'd catch a glimpse of himself in the steel counter- face greasy, eyes dull, hands shaking from caffeine and repetition. He’d wonder if he’d traded away joy for survival. If all his skill was being drained, dish by dish, into a sink that led nowhere.

Jake was working construction, helping renovate the building- he needed cash after dropping out, and no one cared about degrees when you could lift drywall.

He hadn’t planned for any of this. Two years ago, he was studying mechanical engineering with decent grades and big-city dreams, the kind of kid who loved fixing things just to see how they worked. He thought he’d end up designing bridges or subway systems, maybe send money back home to help his parents retire early.

But all that cracked the day his father made a single bad business move- trusting an old friend with their family’s savings. One betrayal later, their small chain of hardware stores went under. Debts piled up like receipts from a fire sale, bank accounts froze; overnight, everything changed.

His parents went back to Korea, swallowed in legal paperwork and shame, fighting to keep even one apartment. Jake stayed in Hong Kong, partly because the university wouldn’t refund his tuition, but mostly because someone had to make money. Someone had to survive.

So he started doing construction jobs. 

It consisted of waking up at five, nails chipped, palms blistered, sweat soaking through borrowed uniforms. He learned quickly that no one asked where you came from when you could haul tiles and shut up. There was no space for dreams on scaffolding- just weight, gravity, and the sound of men yelling over jackhammers.

One afternoon, the kitchen’s exhaust system broke down again. Jake was half inside the duct, arms covered in grease, shirtless from the heat and frustration. The fan blade inside rattled like it was dying, and he’d already cut his knuckles trying to fix it.

That’s when Sunghoon stormed out the back door, apron stained, hair sticking to his forehead, and murder in his eyes. He looked like he’d just gone twelve rounds with a broken hand mixer.

He lit a cigarette with shaking hands and muttered, “If one more so-called chef tells me foam is food, I’m throwing myself into the wok.”

Jake didn’t even look up. He passed him a warm can of lemon tea and said casually, “You know, you could just cook noodles. No one judges noodles.”

They sat on overturned milk crates in the alley behind the kitchen, the kind that left marks on your thighs. The air was thick with fryer grease and summer heat. A couple of stray cats wandered nearby, and someone upstairs was blasting old Cantopop through a broken speaker.

They sat in silence for a while, too tired to pretend they weren’t burnt out. Eventually, they talked- not about the jobs they hated or the people who’d looked down on them, but about how expensive it was to have dreams. And how eggs and rice were cheaper- that maybe cooking didn’t need to impress anyone to matter.

By the end of the week, they’d both quit.

Jake texted his foreman that he wasn’t coming back. Sunghoon left a sticky note on the fridge at his job that just said, “I’m done. Good luck.”

They spent the next few days wandering through Sham Shui Po, poking their heads into run-down shopfronts and empty spaces no one wanted. It was the kind of place where the paint peeled, the tiles cracked, and the rent was low for a reason.

Jake found the place first- a dusty corner unit between a pawn shop and a gaming café. The windows were covered in grime, the sign was unreadable, and a rusty ceiling fan hung like a death trap.

Sunghoon stood in the doorway, took one long look around, and said, “I’ll cook. You fix things. If it fails, we blame capitalism.”

And that’s how the diner started. 

They named it Tin Cup Diner because it was the first thing they could think of and the only thing that looked good as a neon green sign Jake found secondhand for forty bucks. The sign flickered slightly at the “n” in “Tin” and buzzed audibly at night, but they decided it gave the place character.

They argued over the menu like it was life or death.

Jake wanted to add pineapple buns and French toast stuffed with peanut butter. Sunghoon refused to deep-fry anything “that sweet and disrespectful.” Sunghoon pushed for simple rice plates, noodle soups, and stir-fried greens. Jake said no one would come unless they threw in some eggs and a novelty sandwich.

They settled on a chaotic fusion- stuff your grandma might make if she owned a TV and once had brunch in London. You could get congee with spam fries. Or pork chop rice with a side of coleslaw. Every now and then, someone ordered the tuna melt out of curiosity and ended up coming back.

The furniture came from junk shops, roadside pickups, and the occasional mercy donation. Nothing matched. One table leg was shorter than the others so they folded an old receipt booklet under it. Most of the chairs wobbled. The counter was built from salvaged wood Jake found during a renovation gig- he sanded it down at 2am while Sunghoon painted a crooked chalkboard menu on the wall behind him.

It took about a month.

A month of greasy hands, cheap instant coffee, half-finished conversations, small cuts, bigger dreams. Of cursing at leaky pipes, peeling faded posters off the walls, and scraping chewing gum from under old booths. Of Sunghoon burning three rice pots trying to calibrate the kitchen stove, and Jake accidentally electrocuting himself when rewiring the lights.

But eventually, it looked… kind of presentable. The kind of place you walked into and thought, “yeah, I could eat here if I’m broke or heartbroken.”

And on opening day, they only had six customers- three were their neighbors, two were lost, and one just wanted to use the bathroom. But one of the grandmas from across the street left them with a generous tip. “Tastes just like the old days,” she said. And that was enough.

Overtime, their customer pool expanded. First, the owner of the pawnshop beside them started coming over for lunch more often. “It’s good food,” he’d told them while drinking their chicken congee, “and it’s cheap.” And Sunghoon and Jake remember beaming at each other with pride, one holding a twisted washcloth and the other slapping a notepad onto his palm. 

The next group of regular customers were the teenagers that often stopped by after blowing their money on the gaming café. They were always loud groups of high schoolers in their inappropriate clothing and unfortunate friendship dynamics. There were many accounts of Jake finding himself chasing away some kids who had pulled out alcohol or cigarettes or started making out right there in the centre of the diner, disrupting the carefully curated ambiance of the place. It was a scene to rubber neck on, truly- Jake with a broomstick, apron around his waist, napkin tied to his head, yelling profanities at a ragtag group of teenagers. 

He absolutely loathed teenagers after enough instances. Sunghoon liked to make fun of him for it, making sure it was always him serving the teenagers instead of Sunghoon going in himself.

Then, there was the group of construction workers that always seated themselves late into the night. Eventually, Jake and Sunghoon started working late shifts just to cater to these groups of men that were in desperate need of nourishment and a roof to be under. They always brought a cloud of cigarette smoke and cement dust whenever they came, exhaustion weighing down their posture, arms and eyes heavy. 

They once stopped Jake to ask what he was before the diner- like they could sense he was once a fellow construction worker; like there was some sort of unrecognisable brotherhood Jake held in him. That night, while sharing stories of how they each got into construction work- something none of them wanted to do but were pushed into through the unfair course of life- Sunghoon offered them free food at the sight of Jake's welled eyes as he narrated his past.

Out of all the customers, though, Sunghoon’s favourite were the group of grandmas that came from time to time. He thought they were mellow, the perfect kind of customers that brought the laughter and peace that he chased when opening the diner. They spoke in deep accents that made it hard for Sunghoon and Jake to understand their Cantonese and they usually always ordered the same thing- spam and egg sandwiches, macaroni in broth with ham and milk tea that came in the fancy “Black & White” mugs- the kind with the cow printed on one side with a red border as the base. 

Life, owning and running a diner, was good.

There were no spreadsheets, no performance reviews, no hollowed-out fine dining talk about “notes” or “palates” or “culinary storytelling.” There was just food- food that people actually enjoyed.

Jake liked that he didn’t have to explain himself anymore. He fixed what was broken, took orders, made dumb jokes, and whacked teenagers with a broom if he had to. His apron was always stained, and his hands always smelled faintly like soy sauce, but he hadn’t felt this steady in years.

Sunghoon liked that he could hear laughter through the kitchen walls. The clang of ceramic, the low radio hum, the grandma chatter about gold rates and old TVB actors. No backstabbing sous-chefs, no white tablecloth pressure, no lectures about plating. It was always just warmth, a stability in life he hadn’t experienced in a while.

Slowly, they had become an integral part of the neighborhood.

They were essential like the ten-year-old stationery shop tucked under a crumbling awning that schoolkids depended on for last-minute notebooks and cheap pens. Like the fruit stall with sun-faded umbrellas and a weathered old man who always had a loyal flock of aunties by 7am, arguing over lychees and paying in loose change.

Tin Cup Diner became that kind of place. The kind that didn’t need a signboard update because everyone already knew where it was.

Their stretch of Sham Shui Po was a road of second chances and low expectations. Laundry dripped from windows overhead, buses screeched past puddles, and neon signs buzzed in the fog like city fireflies. The air smelled of five different kinds of street food depending on where you stood- fresh waffles, frying oil, cheap skewers, and once in a while, the sweet, almost floral scent of steamed buns from the lady two shops down.

People knew them there.

Jake and Sunghoon- the inseparable duo, the walking contradiction. The sunshine-and-stone pairing that somehow worked.

Jake, ever the extrovert, called out greetings to everyone who walked past. His voice cut through the street noise, full of boyish charm. He carried bags for grandmas, flirted harmlessly with girls who giggled at his apron, and once even got roped into babysitting when a customer had an emergency.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, preferred silence. He nodded at familiar faces, hands stuffed into his pockets, eyes down but ears alert. He was awkward in a way that people forgave- because his food was good, and his heart showed in the small things. A discount here, an extra egg there.

He also had a soft spot for things that didn’t ask much of him. Like the ginger cat he found one night nestled between the tires of two bicycles, its fur patchy and its body trembling from the cold.

He crouched down, cautious and quiet, and placed a piece of leftover tuna on the sidewalk. He didn’t touch it, didn’t coax it- just left the food and walked away.

The cat showed up the next day.

And the day after.

Soon, she became a fixture outside the diner- curled up near the back door, blinking slowly at the kitchen heat. Sunghoon never named her, never talked to her, but he always set out milk in a mismatched saucer and small scraps of fish or ham. Jake teased him for being a cat dad. Sunghoon just rolled his eyes and wiped his hands on his apron.

Sometimes, if you passed Tin Cup at closing time, you’d see the two of them- Jake wiping tables while talking too much, and Sunghoon crouched near the alley, one hand resting beside a tiny orange cat, the city humming quietly around them.

Days bled into weeks, and weeks folded into months, until routine settled around them like steam off a rice bowl. They liked living this way- cramping themselves into the small kitchen of the diner, speaking to their customers like family, feeling like they were needed and important. And everynight, after locking up, they liked walking the street that led back to their apartment. It was a familiar drill- Sunghoon would feed the cat, Jake would play a game of hopscotch with the group of children near an old playground, they would both stare at the moon and trees and wonder what luck brought them the mundane life they’d both wished for. 

Their apartment was located above an old man’s cobbler shop. It was just far enough from the main road that the city noise turned into a dull, sleepy hum by midnight. The place was barely 400 square feet, and it looked like it hadn’t been touched since the early 90s. The wallpaper peeled at the corners, stained with old humidity and city air. One window didn’t open, and the other never fully closed, so they stuck a towel in the crack to keep the mosquitoes out. The fridge door creaked every time it opened, and they had to kick the bottom of it to make it close again.

Their beds were on opposite sides of the bedroom- Jake’s messy, covered in clean clothes he never folded, and Sunghoon’s rigidly neat, tucked tight like a hospital cot. They had one tiny table between them, always cluttered with receipts, unopened mail, spare change, and the occasional half-finished drink.

But the washroom? Spotless- recently tiled, water pressure strong enough to knock the stress out of your shoulders. Jake had fixed it himself. “If the world ends,” he liked to say, “I want to die with clean hair.”

They kept a small goldfish tank on the counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. The built-in lights flickered unpredictably, casting a ghostly glow over the water whenever they sparked to life. Inside, four goldfish swam in lazy circles- there were always four. If one died, they’d replace it without much ceremony. They’d done it so many times they’d lost count. Neither of them knew exactly what kept killing the fish- bad water? Old wiring? Goldfish karma? But the cycle continued- four goldfish, always four, like a strange little ritual they never talked about but always maintained.

ii. 

“Same order?” Sunghoon called from the kitchen.

“Same order,” a grandma answered from her table.

The group of grandmas were back again. It was their third, probably fourth visit of the week. They were a group of ladies that had known each other since high school and were fortunate enough to not have their life uprooted with immigration or job opportunities their husbands wanted to explore. And even now, years- perhaps decades- later, they still spent all their time together. Their meetups started at one of their houses, then they moved on to the park. But they stopped going there because the walk was too long. Then, eventually, after jumping between locations, they found Tin Cups Diner- where the owners loved them and doted on their wants and needs. 

Recently, they’d formed a habit of playing Mahjong while sitting on the cramped table. Sunghoon and Jake were surprised this didn’t start sooner- it was quite a stereotype; grandmas and mahjong. It was a tale as old as time. And Sunghoon and Jake didn’t mind it at all. Their laughter and occasional bickering was lively, reminding them of their old houses that they lived in with their respectful families. It was good company. Sometimes, Jake would intrude to break up their arguments like a charming son-in-law. 

They adored Jake- always pinched his cheeks and asked him if he had a girlfriend yet. There was the occasional “my granddaughter is single, if you’re interested” but Jake assured them that their precious granddaughters would probably not want to date a broke diner owner. They adored Sunghoon too, but they learned to show it differently. Sunghoon didn’t like to be touched but he liked to be smiled at and he liked when they complimented his food. The grandmas grew a habit of tipping them extra, especially on days Sunghoon laughed back at their jokes.

“How many rounds do you think they’ve played?” Jake sauntered into the kitchen, crumpled bills and loose change in his hands from serving the other customers. They peered at the grandmas’ table through the window. “And who’s the new girl?”

The past couple of days, Sunghoon and Jake observed that there was a girl much younger than them that had joined the grandmas in playing Mahjong. They weren’t sure how it started- perhaps they were distracted when she got invited to their little clique. But from what they could gather, from the occasional praise or groan, she was good at the game- had tips and tricks up her sleeve she wasn’t willing to share.

Sunghoon ignored Jake, eyes focused on the boiling pot in front of him. The grandmas wanted macaroni in broth again, as usual. And they also ordered stir fried udon with beef- no one had ordered that in a while but it had been a recurring order the past few days. Probably because of the new girl, whose name they learnt was Y/N through passing conversation. 

“Do you think she’s one of their granddaughters or something?” Jake continued. His eyes were fixed on the girl- her confident smile that always showed her teeth, the crinkle in her eyes when she was close to winning a game, her manicured nails that were always in a deep white and green pattern that mimicked the mahjong tiles and her trendy outfits that never ceased to gain compliments from the grandmas. 

Which was saying a lot because these grandmas hated the younger generation and their revealing clothing and bright jewellery.

Y/N was modest- in the way she played, in the way she dressed and in the way she ate.

“God knows,” Sunghoon shook his head and tucked away the strands of hair that fell in front of his eyes. The steam from the macaroni glossed his skin as he plated the food. “Go serve them. Tell them their udon will come in a bit.”

Struggling to balance five plates of their macaroni in broth with both arms, Jake reached the table of grandmas with his usual smile that had them swooning. “There he is!” One of them cheered, the one wearing the plastic green sun hat even though she was sitting indoors. When asked about it, she’d always tell them to stop questioning her fashion choices. 

“Hope you enjoy the food today,” Jake grinned at them, eyes briefly flashing towards Y/N. He caught her smile, the way she warmly looked at all the grandmas while they cooed at Jake. 

“When do we not?” Another grandma said, reaching to pinch Jake’s cheek- only slightly, barely, like he was her grandson. “Thank you sweetheart.”

“Why don’t you play mahjong with us today, dear?” One of the grandmas looked up at Jake with anticipation. 

Their attention, however, was pulled towards the kitchen window where Sunghoon stretched his arm out with the plate of udon. “Again with the mahjong, nainai?” Sunghoon chuckled at her, brows holding his annoyance. He was terrible at hiding his emotions- most of it sat on his face, right there on his brows and lips.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” another grandma insisted. “I don’t understand why you don’t want to play.”

“Y/N can teach you!” A grandma hollered with excitement, eyes glowing as if she’d made a new revelation. The rest of the grandmas nodded with enthusiasm. 

Y/N, on the other hand, laughed awkwardly and shook her head, her gaze stuck somewhere in between Sunghoon and Jake. “I don’t play that well,” her voice came out a whisper.

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, honey,” the grandma sitting beside her nudged her arm with hers. “You’re phenomenal.”

Sunghoon, who was leaning out the window, hand hanging off the railing, watched as Jake placed the plate of udon in front of her Y/N. She smiled at him thankfully, the corner of her eyes crinkling, fingers instinctively reaching for a pair of chopsticks.

“You guys already have enough players,” Jake cracked them his signature grin- the one that had girls swooning and boys feeling insecure of their own smiles. “The six of you make a great group.”

His response was met with a string of groans and “alright, alright, get back to working” and a lot of hands teasingly waving at him to leave. As Jake walked away, Y/N took a bite of her udon and her expression changed into a sense of bliss, from satisfaction that the dish gave. Sunghoon saw it- that look of utter appreciation for his cooking- and let it burn into his memory. Just as he did with most customers he caught enjoying his food. Sunghoon liked knowing his customers were satisfied with what they were paying for- that his skill was recognised. 

“How many games do you think she won this time?” Jake was back in the kitchen again, eyes still on the girl that was playing mahjong with the grandmas. Sunghoon glanced at him from the corner of his eyes- he saw his toothy grin, the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. 

“Every game,” Sunghoon mumbled- he was keeping count. It was hard not to when the grandmas whined and crooned after every game and patted Y/N on the back with pride.

iii. 

A few days later, on an early afternoon where the diner was unfamiliarly empty, the grandmas were back again to wile away time with mahjong. Along with them, they brought their mahjong sidekick- the best player on the block, a girl who later revealed that she was formerly a mahjong prodigy and used to play at the national level.

Now, she was just a student at the local college, studying economics with a minor in sociology. She was going to graduate in a year. And in her free time, instead of being holed up in her room studying, she’d much rather sit with the grandmas and play mahjong. 

“Aren’t there only supposed to be four players in mahjong?” Jake approached them with his arms full of their orders, a quirk in his brow as he looked at the group of six.

“We take turns playing,” the grandma wearing the plastic green sun hat answered, her hands clasped in her lap. She clearly wasn’t playing in this round- and neither was Y/N. She was helping the grandma beside her- subtly cheating, but not really.

Jake placed Y/N’s udon in front of her and she gave him that smile again- polite, grateful and happy. “Enjoy,” he said to her, voice tuned and chirpy that seemed to make her fluster. But as quickly as she had reacted, the faster she moved on to eating her order. And she was back in her world again- savouring her food, eyes locking onto the mahjong tiles, laughing with the grandmas.

“She’s cute, no?” Jake sauntered into the kitchen with a lightness in his step, wiping his hands with a washcloth and leaning his back against the counter. Beside him, Sunghoon was pre-frying fish balls for the day, his lips pursed and eyes lowered as usual.

“She’s a college student,” Sunghoon said- like it was the most obvious fact in the world, a fact Jake was already aware of. 

“What's your point?” Jake was teasing him now, his lip pulled between his teeth and eyebrows wiggling. “You find her cute too, don’t you?” He was poking Sunghon’s side now, laughing as he got a reaction out of him.

Sunghoon groaned, only passing Jake a smile that he couldn’t hold back- partly because he could never hold his smile back around Jake and partly because the moment felt juvenile, like they were young and in high school again. “Grow up,” Sunghoon chuckled and pushed him away, his arm stretching into Jake’s shoulder.

“You know I joke,” Jake laughed too, making his way out of the kitchen to watch the grandmas play mahjong- to watch Y/N play mahjong. 

He leaned against the wall separating the diner from the kitchen, his tongue poking his cheek, meddling with his own fingers at the sight of the girl. But, honestly speaking, Jake wasn’t the stud people sought him out to be. He was outgoing, extroverted, big-mouthed (a quality Sunghoon both loved and despised) and liked to flirt with the young, attractive girls he met in the market. But that was where his reputation ended- his kindness always preceded him.

So, Jake didn’t have any intention of doing anything about Y/N. She was cute and she seemed to make his dear old customers happy. 

Behind him, Sunghoon stepped out of the kitchen, his hands running through his hair to get the sweat and steam out. No matter how much time he spent styling his hair in the morning, it would always be a greasy mess by the end of the day.

“Are you guys gossiping about the gold dealer’s wife again?” Sunghoon smirked when the grandmas turned to him with looks of feigned guilt. 

“I’m telling you, she’s cheating on her husband!” One the grandmas hollered in defense. 

“I saw her walk out of his brother’s apartment with my own eyes,” another grandma insisted, literally stomping her foot down and hitting the edge of the table with her fists to make a point.

As the mahjong pieces in front of them rattled in the ruckus, Y/N let out a soft giggle at their conversion. “Careful,” her high pitched laugh went lost amongst the argument- but they heard it.

“They’re family, it could mean anything,” Sunghoon went on, crossing his arms across his chest.

“She walked out with messy hair, Sunghoon!”

“Adultery is a grave accusation, nainai,” Jake chimed in- obviously a joke, obviously to tease. He cracked his knuckles against his palms, shifting his weight onto one foot, crossing his leg.

“Oh, I’ll listen to you when you play Mahjong with us,” one of the grandmas teased, waving Jake off with that twinkle of mischief she always carried.

A chorus of claps and cackles followed- Jake sighed dramatically, Sunghoon groaned under his breath, and Y/N gave an awkward laugh, unsure whether to join in or retreat.

“Not this again,” Sunghoon muttered, rolling his eyes.

“I swear it’s a daily ritual now,” Jake added, gesturing helplessly at the table like it betrayed him. “The Mahjong Agenda.”

“What is it with you two?” One grandma cried out, genuinely baffled. “Why do you hate it so much?”

“We don’t hate it,” Jake replied, hands raised in defense. “It’s just… a lot. Too many rules. Such long games. My brain’s already full running this place.”

Then, quietly- almost like she didn’t mean to speak at all- Y/N cleared her throat. “It doesn’t take that long if you know the game,” she offered, her voice soft, almost like she was testing her place in the whole dynamic.

The grandmas hummed in agreement, nodding like they’d been saying the same thing for years.

Sunghoon looked at her then, eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. Jake’s smirk stretched wider. “Well,” he said, “we don’t actually know the game, do we?”

The pause that followed held something- barely there, but noticed. A shift in attention, a thread pulled tighter.

Then, just as quickly, a grandma slapped the table. “Then learn!”

The clamor picked up again- more groans, more mock complaints, more laughter that filled the small diner like sunlight. Sunghoon shook his head and ducked back into the kitchen. Jake chuckled and grabbed the designated chipped mug of milk, stepping outside to feed the orange cat waiting in front of the diner.

That night, while they were locking up the diner after last call- Jake pulling the shutter down, Sunghoon crouching to pet the cat one last time for the day- Sunghoon started pondering. The street lights around them were starting to flicker shut and street vendors were on their way home- just like the two owners of Tin Cup Diner. 

“Maybe we should get into mahjong.” Sunghoon said as they started walking.

Jake almost stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned his head towards Sunghoon, his eyes wide and confused. “Who are you and what did you do to my friend?”

Sunghoon fell into a soft string of laughter as Jake tackled his arm around his shoulders. The pair swayed as they walked, letting the quiet street be filled by their childish bonding.

“Why so sudden?” Jake rubbed his fist into Sunghoon’s hair as he tried pushing him off his back, eyes squinting as he failed to hide his cackling. “It’s because of the girl, isn’t it? Y/N?”

“Fuck off, no,” Sunghoon successfully shrugged Jake off him, fixing his jacket. They fell into a steady step again. “I just thought… since they’ve been insisting for so long. Could be fun?”

Jake scoffed and kicked a pebble on the street. “Since when did you care about fun?”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Sunghoon nudged Jake with his arm. 

“Fine,” Jake rolled his eyes. “I’ll learn when I’m not lazy,” the pair grinned at each other and let silence engulf them through the rest of their walk.

iv. 

When Y/N came to the diner, alone and with a book tucked under her arm, Sunghoon and Jake exchanged confused looks. The grandmas weren’t coming in that day, that was for sure. And Y/N had been slowly eating her udon and reading her book- something on economics, as Jake caught a glimpse of, while serving her food. The customers walking in and out with the occasional whiff of cigarette didn’t bother her- she continued to read, eat and listen to music through wired earphones and a small MP3 player.

The windows of the diner started to fog and a slight rain drizzled outside. Many customers started running in with puddles dragging behind them. All Sunghoon could think about was how they would struggle to clean that up later.

“Weird that she’s come here alone, no?” Jake leaned into Sunghoon’s side as he asked the question, eyes trained on Y/N and her unfazed frame.

The pair were staring at her from the kitchen- she was two tables away from their eyeshot. “Just be glad we have business,” Sunghoon whispered back to Jake, turning to continue making wonton soup. “She’s done eating, Jake.”

“Right,” Jake cleared his throat and moved out of the kitchen.

Jake approached her with his usual confidence, a pep in his step and arm already stretched towards her empty place. Y/N felt his presence before he even reached her but she chose to ignore him, gaze still on her book. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there in that position. Outside, the sky was getting darker and the neon shop signs were getting brighter.

“Odd place to sit and read, don’t you think?” Jake hovered near her before taking her emptied plate.

His words startled her, but she only blinked before craning her body to face him. “I quite like it here actually,” she smiled at him- polite, curt, a little shy. 

“The clatter doesn't bother you?” He raised his brows.

She gave him a soft shrug, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not really. It’s kind of… comforting.”

Jake tried not to smile- his lips pressed together, tongue clicking lightly against the roof of his mouth. Out of instinct, he flicked his eyes toward the kitchen window, hoping to catch Sunghoon’s reaction- but he was too busy tossing rice in the wok, face glazed with steam.

“Well,” Jake turned back to her, “can I get you anything else?”

She glanced at her phone, then back at him. “My dad’s picking me up soon. But… a milk tea sounds nice in the meantime?”

There was something in her tone- soft but sure, her wide eyes catching the warm overhead light, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Jake stared for a beat longer than he meant to.

“Milk tea, coming right up,” he finally said, his gaze lingering a moment too long before he turned away, even though she was already back to her book.

Jake slipped into the kitchen, still grinning to himself as he filled the kettle. The place smelled like soy and garlic and something slightly burnt- probably the fish balls. He reached for the tea leaves when Sunghoon, without looking up from his pan, muttered, “We’re out of eggs.”

Jake groaned loudly, clanging the kettle a little harder than necessary. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Sunghoon said, flipping rice with practiced ease.

“Why didn’t we buy them this morning?”

“Because someone wanted to sleep in,” Sunghoon deadpanned.

Jake groaned again- longer, more dramatic this time- and stomped toward the door, grabbing his wallet off the hook. “Fine. Eggs. Got it.”

He was halfway out when he suddenly remembered. “Also! We need a new goldfish!” He yelled over his shoulder. “One of them kicked it last night!”

Sunghoon sighed but nodded, still not turning around. “Yeah, yeah. Just go.”

Jake waved him off and disappeared through the door with the jingle of the diner bell, taking one last glance of Y/N.

A moment later, Sunghoon wiped his hands on a towel, picked up the chipped red-and-white porcelain cup with the cartoon cow and carefully placed it on a tray. He walked out into the quiet clatter of forks and shuffling bodies, eyes scanning the room until he spotted her again. She was still reading, still tucked into her chair like it was comfortable.

Without a word, he gently set the cup in front of her.

She looked up and smiled, that soft kind of gratefulness that didn’t need extra words. “Thank you,” she said.

Sunghoon stood there for a beat, staring at the back of her head as she returned to her book. He debated with himself for a moment, jaw tight, before finally opening his mouth. 

“So…” he started, already regretting it. “Mahjong?”

He cringed internally. His lack of people skills humiliated him more often than not, and this time was no exception. He crossed his arms over his chest, resisting the urge to slap a hand over his face as she turned to look at him again.

“What about Mahjong?” She asked, smiling- shy, polite, unsure of what he meant.

“Oh, um,” he cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “You’re really good at it.”

He wanted to throw himself off the roof for saying something so plain.

“Thank you,” she replied, voice still soft and a little hesitant, barely audible. But Sunghoon heard it clearly.

“The nainais love playing with you,” he added, trying again.

She chuckled, the sound light as she fidgeted with the edges of her book. “I love playing with them too.”

Sunghoon nodded, heart thudding louder than he’d like to admit. “I was thinking maybe I should start playing,” he said. “Since they insist so much.”

That earned him a brighter smile-genuine and almost surprised. “They’ll be so excited to hear that,” she said, eyes warm.

With that, Sunghoon gave her a small nod- tried for a smile, though it came out a little crooked- and turned to head back to the kitchen. The familiar clang of cutlery and low hum of chatter greeted him as a few customers called out their orders. He slipped into the rhythm easily, hands moving on instinct as he took their requests, his mind only half in it as he waited for Jake to return with the eggs.

v. 

The grandmas had just finished their lunch- macaroni in broth, as always- and were setting up the mahjong tiles on their favorite table. The diner's usual clatter had dulled into a comforting quiet. Jake was wiping down tables, Sunghoon was prepping ingredients for the dinner crowd, and Y/N, elbows on the table, was watching the grandmas argue over who mixed the tiles wrong.

“You always flip too fast, Mei Lin,” one said, tapping the table.

“And you always complain, so maybe it balances out,” another shot back.

Y/N smiled into her sleeve.

From the kitchen window, Sunghoon’s eyes flickered to them again and again. The chatter, the rhythmic clack of tiles, the easy comfort between Y/N and the old women- something about it kept pulling his attention.

Finally, after drying his hands on a towel, he walked over. He didn’t sit- just crossed his arms and stood behind them, quiet, trying to peek over the top of their heads. No one minded- he was part of the furniture here, just like the smell of soy sauce and the cat waiting by the door.

He lingered for a moment. Then, almost too softly, he said, “…What do the symbols mean?”

One of the grandmas blinked up at him like she hadn’t realized he was standing there. Another simply grinned- slow and mischievous, the way a cat does when it knows it’s already won.

“Well, well, well,” said one of them, elbowing Y/N playfully. “Someone finally asked.”

Y/N looked up, her expression touched with a kind of surprised warmth. She hadn’t expected him to actually come over. Tilting her head, she studied him- tall and awkward, arms still crossed like they were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Which ones?” She asked gently.

Sunghoon shrugged, looking at the tiles like they’d just started speaking in code. “All of them?”

From across the diner, Jake’s voice rang out, dry and amused. “He doesn’t even know the difference between bamboo and buns.”

“They’re dots, not buns,” Y/N laughed, the sound small but clear. She scooted to the side and patted the empty seat next to her. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Sunghoon hesitated- just for a second. Then he exhaled through his nose, muttered something under his breath, and sat down. He was a little stiff, a little too careful. It was like he wasn’t sure how to exist in a chair that wasn’t in the kitchen.

Immediately, two grandmas shuffled closer, surrounding him on either side. One pushed a pile of tiles toward him, the other clapped his back in pride- Sunghoon cracked her a helpless grin. He looked cornered, like a kid roped into a family dinner with relatives he hadn’t seen in ten years.

The grandmas- delighted beyond measure- turned their sights on Jake.

“You too!” One shouted, pointing a finger directly at him. “If Sunghoon’s playing, you are too.”

Jake sighed, slinging the towel over his shoulder with dramatic flair. “You people are relentless.”

But he paused. His eyes flicked to Sunghoon, caught mid-instruction, nodding solemnly like he was absorbing ancient wisdom. Then Jake looked at the grandmas- hopeful, eager, waiting.

And finally, he looked at Y/N. She was watching him- not pressuring him, just waiting, a small smile playing on her lips, fingers brushing over the edge of a tile like she was testing the waters.

Jake let out a long breath, one hand on his hip. “Fine,” he muttered, walking over. “You people act like we don’t have a whole diner to run.”

The table erupted in cheers before he even pulled out a chair.

Jake pulled out a chair with exaggerated reluctance, plopping down beside a triumphant-looking grandma who immediately pulled his face closer to her to kiss his cheek. “God bless,” she said and Jake giggled at her.

“Shuffle those tiles, boy,” another ordered, and Jake obediently reached for the pile, side-eyeing Y/N.

“You planned this,” he whispered.

She grinned, not denying it. “Welcome to the table.”

Sunghoon shifted to make room, now sitting between Y/N and another grandma who was already assigning him a wind tile. “You missed the whole tutorial,” he told Jake, but there was no smugness in his voice- just quiet amusement.

Jake leaned closer to Y/N. “So, are you gonna save me from complete humiliation or just let me die out here?”

Y/N, still smiling, tapped two tiles. “These are dots. Think of them as buns, since you insist. And that- ” she pointed to another, “-is bamboo. Try not to mix them up this time.”

Jake pretended to take notes on his hand with an invisible pen. “Dots are buns. Got it. Is there a tile for coffee? Because that’s what I’m playing for.”

“No,” one of the grandmas declared. “You’re playing for dignity.”

Y/N laughed, and even Sunghoon let out a low chuckle.

As the round began, the grandmas shouted instructions over each other. Jake was immediately lost, discarding a tile that made two of them gasp dramatically. Sunghoon picked it up cautiously, frowning at his hand like it was a puzzle missing pieces.

Somehow, Y/N stayed calm- her voice soft but sure as she walked them both through their first real game. Her presence made the table feel less chaotic and more like a circle- one that had room for all of them. There was the occasional cheer or groan of a play gone right- or very, very wrong.

Neither Sunghoon or Jake won a game that day- the pair, in fact, had left the game in between to tend to their customers. As they fell into the bustling rhythm of their diner, serving plates of food and cleaning down dirty counters, the grandmas complained in low groans. Y/N continued playing with her usual silence and a laugh thrown in from time to time.

One of the grandmas insisted on a rematch- she just wanted Jake and Sunghoon to play. And neither of them said no.

vi. 

The next afternoon, the mahjong table was already waiting when Jake and Sunghoon walked out of the kitchen. The grandmas had their lunch pre-cooked this time, and Y/N was already seated, shuffling the tiles absentmindedly with one hand while sipping soup with the other.

“She’s been waiting for you two,” a grandma whispered loudly, elbowing another.

Jake gave a mock bow. “Apologies, honored ones. We had... actual jobs.”

One of the grandmas slapped her tile down with finality. “Alright,” she declared, chin high, eyes glinting. “Just the boys this time. I want to see if either of them actually learned anything.”

Jake’s head snapped up. “What- no, no, I haven’t even processed the rules.”

“You’re just scared,” another grandma teased.

“Terrified,” he confirmed. “Utterly and completely terrified.”

Sunghoon tried to get up, mumbling something about prep work, but was immediately pulled back down by a surprisingly strong wrinkled hand.

“You sit,” she ordered. “You owe us after years of avoiding this table.”

Y/N just smiled into her sleeve, watching as the grandmas quickly reset the tiles, their movements quick and practiced. Sunghoon looked resigned. Jake looked betrayed.

The game started with less chaos than last time. Jake remembered a few rules, mostly. Sunghoon took it more seriously than necessary. And Y/N, still not playing, quietly pointed to the right moves without drawing too much attention to herself.

“Okay,” Jake said, squinting at his tiles. “I have three bamboo sticks. And three more. That’s… something?”

“You’re getting there,” Y/N encouraged.

“Don’t gas him up,” Sunghoon muttered. “He still discards every dragon tile like it’s cursed.”

“It feels cursed,” Jake insisted.

“You two bicker like an old married couple,” a grandma commented.

“No,” Y/N smiled, “they bicker like brothers.”

The next fifteen minutes were loud, messy, and full of good-natured mockery. Jake made illegal moves twice, Sunghoon forgot which wind he was, and both of them accused the grandmas of stacking the deck.

But something shifted too.

Sunghoon started leaning into the chaos, rolling his eyes but not pulling away when a grandma ruffled his hair- something he usually flinched at. Jake laughed like he hadn’t in weeks- head thrown back, palms smacking the table when he finally made a decent play.

Y/N watched from the side, sipping her milk tea, legs curled up beneath her, a smile tugging at her lips that she didn’t bother hiding. She’d help them sometimes, other times would simply stare back at their confused expressions with a teasing grin.

When the game finally ended- Sunghoon won, obviously- the grandmas stood triumphantly, stretching their backs.

“We knew you had it in you, Sunghoon,” one of them encouraged.

Jake’s shoulders visibly sagged, his lip jutting forward in a pout. It was such an involuntary reaction, Y/N couldn’t help but stare at the innocence behind it. “You didn’t think you had it in me?”

“You’re getting there,” another grandma assured. 

“That’s so mean! I’m nicer to you lot than he is!”

“Oh, don’t say things like that!”

The grandmas left with promises of bringing home made dessert the next day- their special treat for their favourite diner owners. For finally succumbing to their requests and also making them feel like they were loved again. These grandmas, from what Sunghoon and Jake had learnt from rubbernecking, always complained about feeling neglected by their children and grandchildren. Perhaps they displaced that emptiness onto Y/N, Sunghoon and Jake.

Y/N didn’t leave right away.

She stayed at the table, legs tucked neatly under the chair, her half-empty cup of milk tea in front of her. She scrolled through her phone absentmindedly, the gentle clatter of the diner folding around her like background noise she’d grown to like. Jake and Sunghoon had returned to their usual rhythm- Jake wiping down counters, Sunghoon chopping vegetables in the back- but for a brief moment, neither of them noticed that she hadn’t left with the grandmas.

Until Sunghoon glanced through the kitchen window.

“Jake,” he called out, eyes narrowing.

Jake had just finished taking an order. He tucked his notepad away and leaned into the pass-through. “What?”

Sunghoon jerked his chin toward the dining area. “Why’s she still here?”

They both stared.

Y/N sat with one elbow on the table, phone in hand, tea in the other. She didn’t look out of place- just… still.

Jake shrugged. “I dunno. Let me go ask.”

Before Sunghoon could say anything- probably to stop him- Jake had already tossed the towel over his shoulder and stepped out of the kitchen. Sunghoon sighed. In moments like these, he loathed Jake’s confidence, the way he never hesitated, never second-guessed himself to the point of paralysis.

Jake approached her with easy steps.

“Everything okay?” He asked, his voice gentler than usual.

Y/N looked up, blinking out of her thoughts. “Oh- yeah.” She smiled, polite but sincere. “I’m just waiting for my dad to pick me up. If that’s alright.”

“Of course,” Jake said, the corners of his mouth lifting. “You looked a little lonely. Just wanted to see if you needed company.”

She laughed softly and shook her head. “No, I’m okay, really. But… could I order a tuna melt?” She looked up at him, her voice more sure now. “I’ve been meaning to try it.”

Jake lit up like she’d complimented his accomplishments. “One tuna melt, coming up.”

He turned back toward the kitchen, only to find Sunghoon already halfway through assembling the sandwich. Jake smirked, but didn’t say anything. He’d learned a long time ago not to poke the bear.

He wanted to stay, maybe keep the conversation going, but another customer had walked in and flagged him down. With a silent sigh, Jake turned on his heel and went to take the order, throwing one last glance back toward Y/N as she settled into her seat again, warm tea in hand, waiting- not just for her father now, maybe, but for the comfort of the sandwich being made in a kitchen she’d grown used to.

Sunghoon wiped his hands on a dish towel before picking up the plate from the counter. The tuna melt, golden and crisp, sat beside a pile of thick-cut fries and a small cup of house-made pickles. He tried not to look too eager as he walked it over.

“Here you go,” he said, placing it down in front of her.

Y/N perked up immediately. “Oh- thank you.” Her voice was warm now, a little less shy than before. She took in the sandwich like it was an offering, her eyes lighting up at the smell.

Sunghoon didn’t leave right away. He hovered awkwardly, hands shoved in his apron pockets, and after a pause, he asked, “Do you have your own mahjong set?”

She blinked up at him. “Hmm?”

“You always play with the nainais’ sets. Was just wondering.”

She tilted her head, thinking. “I do. But it’s kind of old. I’ve been meaning to get a new one, actually. Something I can customize, maybe.”

Sunghoon nodded, lips pressing into something almost like a smile. “I know a guy in the market. He does hand-carved pieces.”

Her eyes widened just slightly. “That sounds… kind of cool.”

“It is,” he scratched the back of his neck, looking over his shoulder toward the kitchen before returning to meet her gaze. “Jake and I could take you sometime, if you want.”

He didn’t say it casually, and he wasn’t suave about it. His voice was even and sincere, but there was the usual hesitation underneath, like he was still learning how to offer connection instead of deflecting it.

Y/N looked down for a second, then up at him again- reading his expression, measuring the offer for what it was: a genuine one.

“I’d like that,” she said finally, and smiled. Not polite. Not shy. Just soft.

And Sunghoon, for once, didn’t overthink it. He just nodded, slow and certain. “Cool. We’ll figure out a day.”

He turned to leave, and behind him, Y/N reached for the sandwich- realizing, as she took her first bite, that it was still warm, still perfect, like maybe, somehow, she was meant to stay a little longer.

That night, Sunghoon and Jake had locked up early. The diner had been quiet, and they figured it was as good a time as any to finally replace the fourth goldfish. One had died a few days ago, and the tank looked oddly lopsided without it. Not that they were heading to a proper pet shop- just to the old man on a bicycle who sold goldfish dangling from sticks, each one bobbing in its own water-filled plastic pouch, swaying like strange fruit.

While Jake fished out cash from his back pocket, Sunghoon cleared his throat. “I told Y/N we’d take her to that custom mahjong place.”

Jake froze mid-motion, the folded bills pausing between his fingers and the vendor’s outstretched hand. The vendor blinked at him, mildly annoyed, and snatched the money anyway. Jake nearly fumbled the bag with the new goldfish.

“You, what?” He said, staring at Sunghoon.

“It came up when I brought her the tuna melt,” Sunghoon said, casually- but not too casually. “Just… in passing.”

Jake started walking again, the bag swinging from his fingers. He smirked, glancing over. “Passing conversation, huh?”

“Yeah. Passing conversation,” Sunghoon repeated, quieter this time. Like he was trying to convince himself more than Jake.

Jake didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just let the silence stretch between them as the glow of the street lights flickered on. He could hear the gentle slosh of water and the occasional squeak of the goldfish bag in his hand.

Jake shot a sidelong glance at Sunghoon, who kept his eyes fixed stubbornly on the road ahead.

“So,” Jake started, voice carefully casual, “you gave her a sandwich and a field trip?”

Sunghoon didn’t look at him. “Don’t be dramatic.”

Jake snorted. “I’m not being dramatic. I just didn’t know tuna melts came with custom mahjong tours now.”

Sunghoon sighed through his nose. “It wasn’t a big deal. We were talking. She said she wanted to buy a new set. I said I knew a guy. It’s not-”

“A date?” Jake cut in, biting down a grin.

Sunghoon glared at him, then immediately looked away again. “It’s not,” he muttered. But his ears were pink.

Jake laughed under his breath, nudging Sunghoon with his elbow. “You’re such a liar.”

“I’m not lying,” Sunghoon insisted, voice rising slightly. “I’m-” He paused. “It wasn’t planned, okay?”

Jake let the silence sit between them for a few seconds, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. Alright.” They walked on a few more steps before Jake added, teasing but not unkind, “You just accidentally offered to take a girl you barely know to a shop you’ve never even taken me to.”

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes. “We didn’t start playing mahjong until literally yesterday.”

The goldfish made a sudden turn in the bag, catching their attention. Both of them looked down at it, watching the flash of orange dart through the water like it had somewhere important to be.

Jake adjusted his grip on the plastic loop. “So, when are we going?”

“Whenever she’s free, I guess.” Sunghoon shrugged.

Jake hummed. “You gonna ask her?”

“I figured… we’d ask her. Together.”

Jake blinked at him. For once, no joke came out of his mouth. He just nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, okay.”

vii. 

Y/N replayed the way Sunghoon and Jake had approached her about the mahjong shop over and over again until the day actually arrived.

The memory still made her giggle, her stomach fluttering in that light, ridiculous way that meant she was more nervous than she wanted to admit.

It was the way Sunghoon trailed a few steps behind Jake, hands in his pockets, gaze darting everywhere except her face- like the whole plan hadn’t been his idea in the first place. Jake had done the talking, naturally, with that easy, familiar confidence of his. "When are you free?" he had asked, flashing that bright, lopsided grin like this was just another errand, nothing special at all. Meanwhile, Sunghoon stood behind him and nodded- once, twice- as though trying to keep it cool, but looking exactly like a guilty accomplice.

She remembered how Jake waited for her answer without pressure, and how Sunghoon pretended not to care but had looked up just enough to meet her eyes when they finalised a plan.

They hadn’t even left yet, and somehow she was already looking forward to the afternoon like it was something that would matter.

The pair had asked her to meet them at the mouth of the old street market, just past the temple gate where the pavement turned to uneven stone and the smell of incense mingled with fried dough and fresh produce.

It wasn’t far from the diner, but it felt like stepping into another world- louder, warmer, slower somehow. Jake had said the mahjong stall was tucked somewhere in the back alleys, “next to the guy who sells antique radios and possibly illegal fireworks.” Sunghoon had just rolled his eyes at the description, muttering that he’d find it faster without Jake’s help.

Y/N arrived five minutes early, but they were already there- Jake leaned against a lamppost scrolling through his phone, Sunghoon sipping from a bottle of barley tea. Jake spotted her first, nudging Sunghoon with his elbow.

She smiled. They both straightened.

Jake grinned as she approached. “Right on time. I had money on you being early.”

“I am early,” Y/N replied, glancing at her watch with a teasing look. “But you two clearly beat me.”

Sunghoon gave a small, crooked smile. “Jake insisted we leave early just in case we got distracted by fried snacks.’”

Jake didn’t even pretend to be ashamed. “And we did, thank you very much.” He held out a paper bag that smelled vaguely like sesame and sugar. “Want one?”

Y/N took one without hesitation, and the three started walking- Sunghoon leading the way through the winding lanes while Jake lingered beside her, occasionally pointing out odd little shops with dramatic flair.

The market was a maze of sun-faded awnings, peeling posters, and curious smells. Old radios crackled from corners, kids darted between stalls and somewhere in the distance, a man yelled about a two-for-one mango deal like it was the end of the world.

“So,” Y/N asked, chewing thoughtfully. “How custom is this mahjong place?”

“You’ll see,” Sunghoon said, almost proudly. “Last time we were here, the guy tried to sell Jake a set shaped like sea cucumbers,” he added.

“I almost bought it,” Jake said defensively. “It was kind of cool.”

“It was horrifying,” Sunghoon muttered, but he was smiling too. “And we didn’t even play.”

Eventually, they reached a low tin-roofed shop wedged between two buildings, half-hidden by a hanging rug. A wooden sign above the door read, in hand-painted strokes: Mr. Liu’s Lucky Tiles.

Inside, the air was cooler. Shelves lined the walls, stacked high with mahjong sets of every shape and color- some traditional, some made of glass, others painted with dragons, koi, and cherry blossoms. There was even a neon pink set in the corner, shimmering like it had no business being in such a dusty room.

Mr. Liu himself appeared from behind a beaded curtain- an elderly man with a stooped back and sharp eyes, rubbing his hands like he already knew why they were there. 

Jake and Sunghoon had met Mr. Liu in the early, uncertain days of the diner- when the rent felt too high, the customers too few, and the future too blurry to hold onto. He had wandered in one quiet afternoon, ordered nothing but tea, and stayed for hours, offering them sharp, unsolicited advice on budgeting, supplier haggling, and why their menu needed at least one dish with ginger. Over time, his presence became a quiet constant- dropping by with old coins to tip with, passing down contacts for cheaper produce, and sometimes just sitting silently, like the kind of distant relative you don’t call often but always count on. Their bond was dependable, old-school, forged in unspoken trust and shared stubbornness.

“You brought a friend this time,” he said to Sunghoon, nodding at Y/N. “Finally someone with taste.”

Jake gasped, “I’m right here, sir.”

Mr. Liu ignored him. “So, what kind of set are we making?”

Y/N stepped closer to the table lined with carved tiles and paint samples. Her eyes flitted across the display- flashes of color, lacquered wood, tiny painted details that told entire stories.

“I want something brighter... maybe something in red, I don’t know...” she began, voice soft but certain as her fingers hovered over a row of designs. “Those cherry blossoms and koi fish look nice. I want some lanterns on there too.”

Mr. Liu looked impressed. “Bold choice. Most people play safe with ivory and jade.”

Jake leaned in. “She used to play national level mahjong, you know? She's got taste.”

Sunghoon glanced at him sideways, but said nothing, watching as Y/N picked up a tile and turned it over in her hand like she was already imagining it on her table at home. Mr. Liu looked at Y/N with a newfound appreciation.

“I want a set that looks like a showpiece and also like something I never want to stop playing with,” she said. “You know what I mean?”

Mr. Liu nodded, reaching for a notebook. “Alright then. Lanterns, koi, cherry blossoms- red base?”

“Maybe hints of gold too,” Y/N said, smiling now, gaining confidence in the picture she was painting. “Nothing too flashy, just pretty.”

“I like that,” Sunghoon murmured beside her, arms crossed, watching her more than the tiles.

Y/N looked back at him, flustered and a little taken aback- like she wasn’t expecting him to say anything at all, let alone agree so gently. Her fingers paused mid-gesture over a tray of tiles, and for a moment, the noise of the shop faded beneath the warmth that crawled up her neck.

Sunghoon didn’t seem to notice what he’d done, or maybe he did and was pretending not to. His gaze dropped to the tiles again, expression unreadable except for the slight twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips.

Jake, standing a few feet away and pretending to examine a display of dice he definitely didn’t need, caught the shift in atmosphere. He turned back just in time to see Y/N blinking rapidly and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear like she didn’t know what to do with her hands.

Mr. Liu chuckled, already sketching something quick in the corner of his pad. “Come back in a week. And bring better taste with you next time,” he added to Jake, without looking up.

“I literally brought her,” Jake pointed out, affronted.

“And yet,” Mr. Liu deadpanned, turning a page.

Y/N laughed under her breath, the kind of laugh that softened the tension in her shoulders. Jake pouted dramatically, throwing his hands up before shoving them into his pockets, but even that didn’t mask the faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t mind him,” Sunghoon said to Y/N, his voice low but teasing. “Mr. Liu insults people he actually likes.”

“I realised,” Y/N smiled, looking back at the old man who was now carefully selecting tiles from a display tray. “It’s kind of endearing.”

Mr. Liu grunted at that, but a slight smirk betrayed him. “Don’t make me start liking you too, girl. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

She held back a laugh, standing beside the two boys like she’d been doing this for years. Something about the moment felt easy- settled, like the pieces were just starting to fall into place.

As Mr. Liu continued his prep, Jake leaned against the wall near the door and asked, “So, who’s your usual mahjong crowd, anyway? Just the grandmas?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. They’re terrifying.”

Jake looked at Sunghoon. “They made her cry once, didn’t they?”

Sunghoon raised his brows. “And then gave her candy ten minutes later.”

“Stockholm syndrome,” Jake said, solemnly.

“Community,” Y/N corrected, nudging him gently with her elbow.

Sunghoon watched the two of them banter, something calm blooming behind his ribs. He didn’t say much- he rarely did in such moments- but he didn’t want to. They were all in the same place now, tied together not by any great, dramatic event, but by the custom mahjong tiles Y/N was getting excited about.

Mr. Liu cleared his throat. “If you three are done flirting in my shop, I’ve got a set to design.”

Jake and Sunghoon immediately turned stiff and upright, but Y/N just laughed at the joke.

Outside, the sun was already leaning westward. The market buzzed with low chatter and the smells of sweet bean cakes and fresh noodles. Y/N stepped out of the shop with the boys beside her, her shoulders brushing Jake’s for a moment before she stepped forward to walk ahead.

Jake watched her for a second and then looked at Sunghoon. “Passing conversation, huh?”

Sunghoon didn’t even flinch this time. “Yeah,” he said, hands in his pockets. “Still passing.”

They didn’t head back right away. With a few hours to spare before the diner reopened for the evening shift, the three of them drifted through the market like a trio without plans- just steps and distractions.

Y/N stopped to try candied hawthorns from a vendor, offering one stick to each of the boys with a grin that dared them to say no. Jake bit into his without hesitation; Sunghoon looked suspicious of the sticky glaze but didn’t refuse.

They walked past a stall selling old records, and Y/N paused to thumb through them. Jake joined her, flipping covers and teasing her music taste until she found one he actually liked- and then teased him right back for being predictable.

At one point, they sat on a low wall near a koi pond tucked behind one of the older courtyards. Y/N threw breadcrumbs at the fish from a little paper pouch a nearby kid handed her, and Jake leaned back on his elbows, soaking in the sun, while Sunghoon quietly snapped a photo of the moment on his phone- he told himself that he would send it to his family as a life update. 

He never ended up sending it.

By the time they wandered back, the sky was slipping into evening hues. The air smelled different- cooler now, tinged with the promise of dinner. They said goodbye to Y/N at the corner where her ride usually picked her up.

Jake waved a little longer than necessary.

Sunghoon nudged him. “You gonna start writing poetry now?”

Jake just smiled. “Only passing poetry.”

viii. 

A week later, Y/N walked into the diner carrying a tote bag. The grandmas had barely finished their tea before she set the bag down and carefully pulled out her new mahjong set- red lacquered tiles gleaming, each one etched with cherry blossoms, koi fish, and lanterns that shimmered with the faintest touch of gold. It was vibrant, personal, unmistakably hers.

The grandmas crowded around instantly, handling the pieces like precious gems. They didn’t even start a game right away- just examined each tile, murmuring their approval in half-teasing, half-reverent tones.

Jake leaned over the counter, watching the scene with a satisfied grin. “We took her to the shop, didn’t we, Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon, who had just finished washing his wok, paused at the sound of Jake’s voice. He glanced at Y/N, then at the tiles, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “We did.”

Y/N turned to them, her voice quieter than the chatter around her. “Thank you,” she said, eyes lingering on Sunghoon.

Jake gave a mock bow. “All in the name of community service.”

“Sure,” Sunghoon said dryly, but there was a warmth behind it.

The grandmas eventually began setting up a game, fussing over who would sit where like it was a matter of national importance. Y/N was coaxed into playing the first round, mostly because one grandma claimed her young eyes would balance out their seasoned wisdom.

Whatever that meant.

Jake and Sunghoon watched from behind the counter, sipping their iced coffees in sync. They didn’t need to be told this was special- they could feel it in the way Y/N laughed, her shoulders looser than usual, the way her hands moved confidently across the tiles.

“She fits here,” Jake said softly.

Sunghoon didn’t respond immediately. He just watched her, a ghost of that now-familiar smile on his face. “Yeah. She does.”

When one of the grandmas called out for the boys to stop being useless and come play the next round, Jake threw his hands up in surrender and made his way over. Sunghoon followed with less enthusiasm but equal affection, letting himself be scolded into taking a seat.

The game had spiraled into chaos- the best kind. Laughter bounced off the diner’s tiled walls, filling every corner with something light and breathless. Tiles clacked as they slid across the table, and steam curled lazily from forgotten mugs of tea. Y/N kept blurting out advice to Jake, forgetting herself in the moment. Her voice, half a whisper and half a laugh, gave him away more than once.

Sunghoon, deadpan and increasingly dramatic, accused her of conspiracy. The grandmas, gleeful and unbothered, leaned into the mess. One of them chuckled behind a hand. “Flirting,” one of the grandmas had said, pointing a bony finger in the air like a courtroom judge. “This is flirting.”

Y/N nearly choked on her tea.

She tried to laugh and swallow at the same time, which resulted in a brief coughing fit and Jake immediately reaching for a napkin, his hand awkwardly hovering like he didn’t know where to place it. Sunghoon blinked at the grandma, mildly horrified.

“W-What?” Y/N spluttered. “No- I was just- he was- ”

“I rest my case,” the grandma said, triumphant, shuffling her tiles like she’d just orchestrated a grand romantic revelation.

Jake grinned, smug. “Guess we’re flirting now.”

“We are not- ” Y/N began, face hot.

“She’s blushing,” another grandma sang under her breath.

“I’m not!” She cried, but her voice cracked just enough to betray her.

Sunghoon groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I hate all of you.”

The table dissolved into laughter. The grandmas high-fived each other. Jake smiled wide and unbothered, soaking in the moment like sunshine. Y/N tried to pull herself together, but the smile tugging at her lips refused to leave.

The game went on, pieces shuffled and discarded, but something else hummed beneath the surface. Something quieter than the jokes, more enduring than the clatter. With each round, each crooked smile, each rolled eye and soft nudge, a kind of ease began to settle in like a puzzle slowly clicking into place.

When the grandmas finally packed up and headed out, full and happy, the diner dimmed into its late-hour hush. The stools were empty, the lights flickered to their lower setting, and the hum of the refrigerator replaced the chatter of customers. But Y/N didn’t move to leave.

She lingered, almost without noticing. Her coat remained draped over the chair, her half-finished tea still warm between her hands. The buzz of the day was gone, but she remained grounded in that moment- like staying made more sense than going.

As Jake started stacking chairs and Sunghoon pulled out a bucket and rag, Y/N stood and quietly joined them. It was wordless- natural. She moved between tables, wiping down surfaces with the same care she’d use on cleaning mahjong tiles. The rag moved in slow circles beneath her palm, her rhythm matching theirs.

“You don’t have to help,” Sunghoon murmured, his voice low, words folding into the quiet hum of the diner.

“I know,” Y/N said after a pause, her tone light but honest. “I’ve just got nothing much to do.”

Sunghoon didn’t respond. He wasn’t good at arguing when the other person was so certain- or perhaps it was just that he didn’t know how to argue with Y/N. Maybe it wasn’t even about the argument. Maybe it was the way her presence always managed to make things feel just a little off balance, like trying to catch your breath mid-laugh. He held her gaze for a second, then gently reached forward and took the washcloth from her hands. His touch was careful, almost hesitant.

Without a word, he nodded toward the nearest booth. She understood and didn’t resist, sliding into the seat as he turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

A moment later, Jake was beside her, slipping easily into the space that Sunghoon had left behind- filling it with that familiar, quiet comfort he carried when he wasn’t trying too hard to be the loudest voice in the room.

“Do you have anything planned for the rest of the day?” Jake asked.

Y/N sighed, shoulders slumping as she flexed her hands in her lap. “I wish. The local theatre is screening Happy Together- Wong Kar Wai’s. I really wanted to go, but none of my friends were free.”

Jake wasn’t a film guy. He liked movies, sure- comedies, thrillers, the flashy new stuff everyone talked about. He’d heard of Wong Kar Wai, of course. Living in Hong Kong and not knowing who that was would be borderline sacrilegious- he’d be pebbled on the streets. But he didn’t think he had the patience for films like that- moody, slow, full of longing and long silences. He always zoned out halfway through.

Still, he looked at Y/N now, at the subtle way her expression dimmed as she talked about it, and he felt something small and stubborn twist in his chest. It was just a movie, he told himself. But for her, it wasn’t just anything. And for some reason, that mattered more.

“Let’s go then.”

Y/N let out a short, amused laugh, thinking he was joking. “What?”

“Let’s go to the movie,” Jake said again, more firmly this time. “Right now. We’ll make it.”

She blinked. “Jake, you can’t be serious. You have a diner to run, and Sunghoon-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved off her concern. “Sunghoon’s got this. And I’m too tired to work.”

“Jake,” she said, softer now, guilt brushing her voice, “We can’t just leave. I don’t want to be disrespectful.”

Jake gave her a lopsided grin, one corner of his mouth squirming up. “If Sunghoon’s gonna be mad at anyone, it definitely won’t be you, Y/N.”

And strangely, she believed that.

Y/N watched Jake disappear behind the swinging kitchen door, his posture sure, purposeful. She stayed seated, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve as muffled voices floated through. She couldn’t hear the words, but she saw the rhythm of them- Jake’s easy gestures, the way he clapped Sunghoon on the back, and Sunghoon’s quiet nod, his eyes never leaving the bubbling pots in front of him. There was no protest, no dramatic negotiation. 

It struck her how simple it had all been. That was the thing about Jake- he made everything look easy. But still, the guilt clung to her like static. She hadn’t meant to impose, hadn’t meant to be the reason someone was left behind at work. And yet… she also didn’t know how to say no- not to Jake. Not when he was being this version of himself- warm and certain and just a little bit insistent.

When Jake returned, he was smiling, bright and boyish. He stretched out his hand to her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Y/N looked up at him, then down at his hand. Her fingers hesitated for just a second before slipping into his.

“Let’s go,” he said, as if this was exactly what the day had always meant to become.

She nodded, quiet and unsure, and let him pull her gently to her feet.

They stepped out into the soft burn of late afternoon light, the kind that painted the edges of buildings gold and made shadows long and forgiving. The diner door shut behind them with a faint jingle, the hum of oil and clatter of dishes fading with distance. Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, her hand still warm from Jake’s. Neither of them mentioned it.

They didn’t speak much on the way. Jake walked with a kind of boyish energy, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself now that he’d committed. Y/N, on the other hand, kept glancing up at the sky, letting the wind push loose strands of hair across her cheek. Something about the silence wasn’t awkward- it was gentle, like both of them were trying to slow down time just a little.

The theatre was tucked between an herbal medicine shop and a print store, its small marquee spelling out Happy Together in crooked red letters. A few people lingered near the entrance, smoking or talking softly in Cantonese, and Y/N paused before the door.

Jake watched her take it in- how her shoulders relaxed just a little, how her eyes brightened like she was seeing something familiar, something comforting.

“Excited?” He asked.

She nodded. “Very much.”

Inside, the theatre smelled of old velvet seats and faint incense, the kind that lingered from the temple across the street. They picked seats near the back- close enough to see the screen clearly, far enough to have space between them and the handful of other viewers. When the lights dimmed and the opening credits began, Y/N shifted just a little closer.

Jake didn’t understand all of the movie- its silences, its metaphors, its aching slowness- but he watched it like he was watching her watch it. He noticed the way her eyes softened during certain scenes, the way she tilted her head when the characters said something heavy. And maybe that was enough. Maybe understanding her joy was more important than understanding the film.

When the movie ended, neither of them rushed to get up. The screen faded to black, the credits rolled, and still they sat there. The city buzzed quietly outside, but in here, the movie hung between them.

Jake finally spoke, voice low. “That was… a lot.”

Y/N smiled without looking at him. “Yeah. That’s kind of the point.”

ix. 

Y/N hadn’t returned to the diner for a while. To be precise, she hadn’t returned since going to that movie with Jake. Sunghoon wasn’t sure if the two events were related in any way- the movie and the not returning to the diner. And in no means was Sunghoon trying to relate the two events. It was simply an observation he made, a fact Jake hadn’t yet acknowledged. 

The night Jake returned from the movie, Sunghoon had asked him how it went- the movie, in particular. But he knew Jake’s big mouth would talk about Y/N in the process. 

“The movie? I struggled to concentrate. You might like it, though, Sunghoon,” Jake had said. “Y/N loved it. She was quite happy.”

And Sunghoon didn’t question any further, too scared to come off as pestering or intrusive. He just nodded and continued moping the diner.

In the time that Y/N didn’t come to the diner, the grandmas still showed up. They followed their usual routine of eating, gossiping, playing mahjong and pestering Sunghoon and Jake. Some days, they would gossip with them, other days they would rope them into playing mahjong. But none of them acknowledged Y/N’s absence- or rather, they didn’t worry about her absence.

“Jake,” Sunghoon called out.

“Yeah?” He entered the kitchen, lip between his teeth and brows raised in question.

“Could you bring the tea to the nainais?” Sunghoon pointed at the five cups of tea on a tray and Jake nodded. “And could you ask them where Y/N is?”

Sunghoon didn’t meet Jake’s gaze- he was too shy to. He was afraid that Jake would take a single look into his eyes and call him out on something Sunghoon was too scared to admit. But Jake only raised a brow at him, lips slightly parted and tray of tee hovering mid pick-up.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Jake chuckled a moment later. “Too scared to ask them yourself?”

Sunghoon didn’t respond- he didn’t need to. Jake wasn’t expecting a response; he was already out the kitchen and approaching the grandmas. 

“Here you go,” he sang to them as he distributed the mugs. “Hey, how come your sixth teammate hasn’t shown up in a while?” He asked, so casually and confidently, as if the question hadn’t been gnawing at his brain.

“Oh, she’s busy with college, honey,” one of them answered. 

“I think this is one of her busy months,” another answered. 

Jake straightened and turned to look at Sunghoon through the kitchen window- he knew he was listening, despite his feigned distraction. With a smirk, Jake returned to cleaning up empty dishes of previous customers.

Sunghoon, still in the kitchen, spacing out at the chopped vegetables in front of him, wasn’t sure if he believed the grandmas. He let his mind spiral- that perhaps, something happened between Jake and Y/N during the movie, that perhaps she felt embarrassed or awkward for reasons he didn’t know. For reasons Jake hadn’t revealed.

Just then, his phone rang. It was odd for someone to be calling him, especially at this hour. His family only usually called him in the mornings or late into the night. 

Y/N’s name was flashing across the screen of his phone.

Sunghoon’s breath caught in his throat. 

Slowly, cautiously, he picked up his phone, his fingers wrapping around the curves of the metal and sliding up on the call. He pressed the warm screen against his ear.

“Hello?”

“Sunghoon,” Y/N’s voice rang loud into his ears. She sounded frantic, almost preoccupied. “I’m home alone.”

For a moment, Sunghoon’s brain froze. He wasn’t sure what to make of that sentence- his heart almost spasmed. 

“I’m home alone and there’s a fucking cockroach in the house and I don’t know what to do,” she sounded like she was on the verge of crying.

Sunghoon let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

“I’m so sorry,” she continued. “I’m proper terrified of bugs- I don’t know what to do-”

“Y/N, don’t worry about it,” he breathed, voice now filled with a sudden sense of confidence. “I’ll be right there.”

“No, that’s not-”

He ended the call before she could finish her sentence. Sunghoon stared at his phone, screen now black, reflecting his expression back to him. 

Jake walked in, his notepad nestled in his hand, eyes scanning the words he scribbled on it. “Someone ordered a Hong Kong-style Spaghetti Bolognese. Been a while since someone asked for that,” he said, tilting his head to the side before tipping it back in surprise. Then, he lifted his gaze to find Sunghoon frozen in his spot, eyes static. “What happened, why do you look like that?”

“Y/N just called me,” Sunghoon mumbled like he didn’t believe it himself.

Jake’s eyes darted in confusion. “Oh,” he said. “Is she okay?”

“Said she needed help with something,” Sunghoon blinked at him.

“Well, then, go,” Jake said with no hesitation, like it was his most natural reaction. He looked at Sunghoon like he was stupid for not leaving yet. “Go on, I’ll cook.”

“Are you sure?” 

“It’s not my first time cooking, Sunghoon,” Jake tilted his head. “You’ve taught me well enough.”

A few minutes later, Sunghoon stood in front of her apartment door, a parcelled container of udon in one hand and a tube of cockroach repellent in the other. Her building was in a fancier part of town- sleek, quieter streets, the kind lined with flowering hedges and motion-sensor lights- but it hadn’t taken him long to get there. He’d practically sprinted the whole way, not that he’d ever admit it.

He raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles met the wood, he heard a thud from inside- what sounded unmistakably like a shoe being hurled across the room.

“The door’s open!” Y/N called, her voice carrying a distinct mix of panic and irritation.

Sunghoon eased the door open with caution, stepping inside like he was entering enemy territory. And there she was- perched on the edge of her coffee table, legs crossed, scanning the floor with laser focus. Her oversized t-shirt slouched off one shoulder, her hair was tied messily like she'd abandoned the effort halfway through, and she wore only one sock- the other nowhere in sight, presumably a casualty of the ongoing war.

Something about her in that moment- disheveled, determined, completely unguarded- hit him with a strange, quiet softness. He had to blink and remind himself why he was there. Don’t stare, he told himself, as he closed the door behind him and stepped fully into her chaos.

“I brought some food,” Sunghoon said, holding up the plastic bag. “You said you were home alone,” he placed it on a cupboard that stood beside the doorway.

Y/N turned to him with wide, grateful eyes, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little. Her gaze flicked to the bag he set down, then back to him- as if the sight of someone else in her apartment, someone calm and steady, made the whole situation feel a little less ridiculous.

“You really didn’t have to,” she shook her head.

“Udon’s quick to make,” he said, walking over to her with brevity she didn’t have. “Where’s the cockroach?”

“I think it went under the bookshelf,” she whispered like it might hear her.

He stepped aside quietly, scanning the floor like he was on a mission- perhaps he was. There was a certain kind of silence between them, familiar and strange all at once. She got off the table and hovered behind him like a shadow, pointing occasionally, giving unhelpful commentary like “I swear it flew” and “I heard it crunch.”

Eventually, he found it- the cockroach, cornered and twitching near the leg of the bookshelf. Sunghoon didn’t hesitate- grabbed a slipper she handed him and swiftly ended its reign of terror. Y/N let out a dramatic breath, slumping against the wall like a war survivor.

“I owe you,” she muttered, hand pressed to her chest.

Sunghoon finally looked at her then, eyes flickering. “Not at all.”

She tilted her head, then went quiet. He stood there, still holding the slipper, unsure of what came next.

Sunghoon cleared his throat, not trusting himself to sit still any longer. “I’ll apply the repellent,” he said, holding up the tube like a peace offering. “Should last you a few weeks.”

He got to work without waiting for her response, crouching by the corners of the hall first. The motion was methodical, something to focus on- dot the edge, press the tube, swipe. She watched him quietly as he moved into the kitchen, applying it behind the fridge, at the back of cupboards, and beneath the shelves with careful, practiced hands. He didn’t ask where anything was- he just kind of knew.

When he finally turned to her again, their eyes met for half a second before he looked away. “Your room,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but it was quiet, like he didn’t want to startle her.

Y/N led him down the short hallway, her hand brushing the wall as she walked ahead. He followed, steps measured. The door creaked open, and she stepped aside to let him in first.

Sunghoon hesitated before crossing the threshold. It felt… intimate, somehow, to be here- not in a loud or obvious way, but in the quiet traces of her life that surrounded the space. He felt like he’d stepped into a part of her she didn’t often share. He almost didn’t feel worthy.

And though he told himself not to look, he did.

There were photos framed on the walls- friends, blurry oceans, distant smiles- and a half-used candle on the study desk. Books stacked in uneven piles, a hair tie hanging off the corner of the lamp. Her bed was slightly unmade, a soft quilt tangled in the center. And resting on the top of her bedside table was her personalized mahjong set- the red one, with gold koi fish and painted blossoms. The one he helped pick out.

Sunghoon’s throat tightened.

He crouched in the corners of the room and applied the repellent in silence. But every now and then, his gaze flickered back to the mahjong set. The fact that she kept it there, next to where she slept, said more than she probably knew.

After he was done, she led him back to the hall again. She played with the hum of her shirt, awkward as she turned back to him. Sunghoon’s stiff demeanor wasn’t much help either. He himself wasn’t sure what else to say. 

“Do you wanna stay for a bit?” She asked softly, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to ask the question. “I have those green tea cookies you like.”

Sunghoon blinked. His first thought was confusion- he didn’t remember ever mentioning those cookies to her. But then he remembered- a few weeks ago when Jake had come in late to the diner, holding up a box of green tea cookies like a peace offering, loudly apologizing to Sunghoon for coming in later than promised. Y/N had been there, seated between the grandmas, shuffling the tiles with a calm that felt so at home.

Jake had shoved the cookies onto the counter with a grin and a “I know you love these. Makes you less mad at me, huh?” And Sunghoon, red-eared and grumbling, had tried to hide a smile while the grandmas teased him for it.

She remembered that- that small moment.

He nodded before his throat could catch up to his thoughts. Something about the offer, her remembering, the soft steadiness of her words- it settled over him like his mom’s bowl of comfort soup.

Y/N padded to the cabinets, one foot still missing a sock. She moved with the ease that came with being in her own house, but there was a lightness to her movements now, as if his presence didn’t interrupt anything- like he belonged there for the moment. She boiled water in a worn kettle, the kind with chipped paint near the spout that had been in the family since before she was born. And she pulled out a box from the back of the shelf. The green tea cookies were a little crumbled but still perfectly good. She smiled to herself as she laid them out on a porcelain plate.

They settled on the floor of her kitchen like kids hiding from responsibility. She handed him a mismatched mug- his had a cat on it, tail curled into a heart. Hers was plain, chipped at the rim. The plate of cookies sat between them like a peace treaty.

Sunghoon took a bite, and the taste was exactly like he remembered- earthy and a little sweet, crumbly in the best way.

“I didn’t think you noticed,” he said after a long while, his voice low, careful.

Y/N looked at him, a slow blink. “I notice more than you think,” she said simply.

Sunghoon glanced down at his shoes, then back at her, unsure of what to make of it. He wondered what else she had noticed- but chose not to ask.

“So,” he began, instead. "You have a proper phobia of cockroaches?”

Y/N nodded, mid-chewing on the cookie. She swallowed abruptly. “Bugs in general,” she admitted. “The last time I saw a spider in the house, I fainted and my parents rushed me to the hospital.”

“You fainted?”

“Yeah,” she laughed like it wasn’t a big deal- like it was an old memory “It’s gotten better now, but I’m definitely still terrified.”

“I can tell,” Sunghoon nodded, a grin playing on his lips.

Y/N rolled her eyes, eyes drifting back to her mug. “I didn’t mean for you to come, by the way,” she admitted. “You really didn’t need to go out of your way to do this.”

“It’s not a problem, Y/N,” Sunghoon assured. “Why’d you call anyway?”

“I thought you’d give me emotional support and teach me how to chase down a cockroach.”

“Through the phone?” He laughed now, finally realising how childish the situation actually was.

“Laugh all you want,” Y/N rolled her eyes. 

They both looked down at the plate between them. The cookies were beginning to crumble at the edges.

“You haven’t come around to the diner in a while,” Sunghoon said after a beat- not accusatory, just staging an observation.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Y/N sighed. “I’ve been swamped with assignments.”

“Don’t need to apologise for that,” he said, shaking his head. 

“I missed it though,” she added, softer this time.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You should probably get back before Jake burns the place down.”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon exhaled, glancing toward the door. “He’s probably trying to plate spaghetti like a Michelin chef.”

x. 

A few days later, on an early morning when the streets were still yawning and the sky hadn’t fully made up its mind about the sun, Y/N found herself tagging along with Sunghoon and Jake to the wet market. There was no real reason- just that she was free, and just that she could.

Sunghoon had mentioned wanting to experiment, to see if he could add a few new seafood dishes to the diner’s menu. That was the official reason. The real reason, perhaps, was simpler- it was nice having her there.

The market was already alive, a cacophony of voices and smells and sloshing water. Jake took the lead, animatedly picking fights with fishmongers over prices, freshness, or whether the catch was really caught that morning. Sunghoon followed a few steps behind, arms crossed and expression sharp, his eyes silently backing Jake’s words like punctuation marks.

Jake was mid-haggle with an elderly fishmonger about the size of a grouper when Sunghoon leaned toward Y/N and muttered, “he always starts a fight before 5am. It’s part of his warm-up routine.”

She stifled a laugh, then wrinkled her nose when a splash of fish water nearly hit her sandals. “Is it always this... intense?”

Sunghoon gave a faint, dry nod. “This is one of his better days.”

Eventually, Jake held up a glistening red snapper triumphantly like a knight with a sword. “Victory,” he declared, already halfway to the next stall. The old fishmonger chuckled, muttering something about these boys and their drama.

Sunghoon calmly handed over the money and shot a quick thanks before motioning for Y/N to follow.

Y/N trailed after them, half-awake, half-amused, her eyes darting between the two of them- between Jake’s loud dramatics and Sunghoon’s quiet intimidation. She didn’t fully understand the rhythm of their routine, but she liked being a part of it anyway.

They weaved through crates of shellfish, bundles of herbs, and stalls with dangling octopus tentacles. Jake struck up conversation with nearly every vendor- some clearly annoyed, some amused, all strangely fond of him.

Some vendors, familiar with the duo, greeted them with grins and playful jabs. A few even offered discounts without being asked- especially when they noticed Y/N in tow, standing a little behind, blinking curiously at a very lively basket of prawns.

“You like prawns and shrimp?” Sunghoon asked when he noticed her.

“Love,” she responded. 

“What about lobster?” He continued.

“Think about it everyday,” she smiled at him, innocent and childlike.

Seconds later, Sunghoon was signaling toward Jake with a subtle lift of his chin, eyes flicking toward a crate of lobsters sitting in a cooler nearby. Jake caught on immediately- of course he did- and ambled over to the stall, already rolling up his sleeves like it was about to be a full-blown negotiation.

“These aren’t just lobsters,” Jake said to the vendor, dramatic as ever. “These are practically celebrities. I feel like I should be asking them for autographs.”

The fishmonger laughed. “Only if you’re paying celebrity prices.”

Jake squinted at the man, then turned to glance briefly at Y/N and Sunghoon standing a few steps behind. “She likes lobster,” he said, pointing his thumb at Y/N. “You’re really gonna make me tell her we couldn’t get any?”

The vendor raised a brow, grinning. “She’s that special, huh?”

Jake didn't skip a beat. “Special enough for a discount.”

Y/N stifled a laugh behind her hand. Sunghoon just shook his head, arms crossed again, quietly watching Jake argue his way into a discount like he did it for sport.

In the end, Jake returned victorious, holding up the paper-wrapped package like it was a trophy. “Lobster secured,” he announced.

“For a good price?” Sunghoon asked.

Jake grinned, cocky. “For her, yeah.”

Sunghoon glanced at Y/N- she was still blinking at the lobsters, face lit up with delight- and then back at Jake. “She gets us cheaper prices, doesn’t she.”

“It’s like she’s a walking coupon.”

Eventually, with bags full of seafood, bunches of greens, and Jake still animatedly chatting to a vendor about how fish bones were the real flavor heroes, the trio made their way toward the bus stop.

The morning traffic had just begun to swell, but they caught an early local bus- half empty, smelling faintly of engine oil and coriander from someone’s breakfast bag. Jake hoisted the heavier crates into the luggage rack with ease, exchanging a cheerful “good morning” with the driver like they were old friends.

Y/N sat near the back, wedged between a bag of clams and a plastic tub of greens, her knees pulled slightly in to make space. Sunghoon took the seat beside her, holding a smaller insulated bag on his lap, while Jake stood near the front, holding onto the rail with one hand and using the other to keep talking to someone on the phone- probably his brother.

The bus rattled along, sunlight just beginning to filter through the dusty windows. Y/N swayed gently with the movement, occasionally bumping Sunghoon’s shoulder. He didn’t move away.

Sunghoon stared out the window, his expression as unreadable as ever- quiet, faintly furrowed, like he was measuring something in his mind he didn’t quite have words for. Not brooding, exactly- just present in a way that made him seem miles away.

Back at the diner, the morning unfolded in a quiet rhythm. The sun had finally risen, its light spilling gently through the fogged windows, catching dust motes in golden halos. Jake unloaded the groceries with theatrical groans- dramatic as always- while Sunghoon took the ingredients into the kitchen, his focus already sharpening.

Y/N had offered to help, but was quickly shooed away.

“You’re a guest,” Jake had said, wagging a finger at her.

“You’ll just get in the way,” Sunghoon added with less kindness, though the way his voice dropped suggested he didn’t mean it harshly.

So she sat on a stool by the counter, quietly watching.

Sunghoon began working on the lobster, his movements precise, economical. Just behind him, a bowl of shrimp was being deveined. Jake wandered in, scooped a small portion of shrimp into a tiny dish, and turned on his heel to head back out.

“What’s that for?” Sunghoon asked, not looking up.

“For the cat.”

“Don’t give her too much,” Sunghoon mumbled, slicing through the shell of the lobster. “Too much shrimp’s bad for them.”

Jake paused, raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

“I researched,” Sunghoon grumbled. And then, very deliberately, turned away- shoulders hunched slightly, like he could hide his face behind the curve of his neck.

Y/N bit back a smile.

Curious, she followed Jake to the front of the diner.

Out on the stoop, crouched beside the faded step, was a small orange cat- half asleep, tail flicking slowly. Jake knelt in front of her, placing the dish down and murmuring something Y/N couldn’t hear. The cat opened her eyes, then lazily leaned forward to sniff the shrimp.

“She likes Sunghoon more,” Jake explained, glancing over his shoulder. “He’s the one who found her, you know. Took her to the vet, made a whole bed for her in the storage room. Doesn’t talk about it though.”

Y/N crouched beside him, her fingers grazing the rough concrete as she stretched her hand out. The cat blinked up at her. And then, coolly, with that feline grace, nuzzled her head against the back of Y/N’s hand before turning toward the shrimp.

Y/N’s face lit up with something between surprise and wonder. Jake, still crouched, leaned back on his heels and gave her a grin.

“She likes you,” he said.

“Not as much as Sunghoon,” she replied softly.

Jake chuckled. “Don’t worry. That’s not a competition you want to win.”

Inside, behind the glass, Sunghoon paused in the middle of peeling garlic and glanced out- eyes lingering just long enough to catch the scene before ducking his head again.

By the time Jake and Y/N returned to the kitchen, the smells had bloomed- garlic, butter, a hint of chili, the sweetness of seafood carried gently in the steam rising from the stovetop. 

Sunghoon didn’t say much as he plated the dishes he made- three new ones he was considering for the menu.

First, Typhoon Shelter Shrimp- lightly battered prawns fried with garlic, chili, and crispy bits of breadcrumb, piled into a modest heap that still looked restaurant-worthy.

Next, Steamed Clams with Black Bean Sauce, served in a shallow bowl, the clams peeking open through a dark, aromatic glaze flecked with scallions and red pepper.

Then came Pan-fried Grouper Fillet- seared till golden and crisp on the edges, set atop a spoonful of soy-ginger sauce that glistened under the diner lights.

He worked in a quiet rhythm, focused and precise. Then, without warning, he reached for a fourth plate- larger than the others- and gently lowered two halves of a garlic butter poached lobster, its tail meat already split and fanned slightly apart, a bit of lemon zest caught the light.

Sunghoon didn’t glance up. “That’s for us to eat,” he said, placing the plate aside. “Not for the menu.”

Jake barked out a laugh. “Yeah, no way can we afford to put a lobster dish on the menu.”

Sunghoon shrugged modestly, but there was the faintest trace of color in his cheeks. “You said you think about lobster every day,” he muttered to her, not quite meeting her gaze, as he sat down beside her.

Jake pretended not to hear it and sat beside him, already reaching for chopsticks to taste the shrimp. “Okay, but this shrimp? We are putting this on the menu. I’ll fight you if you say no.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “We’ll see.”

Y/N sat down with the lobster dish in front of her, quietly touched- and a little amused. “It’s so over-the-top for a random weekday.”

“It’s not random,” Sunghoon replied.

A week later, the typhoon shelter shrimp was added to the menu- not because Jake insisted. But because after the lobster, Y/N enjoyed the shrimp the most.

xi. 

“Guess who I just got off the phone with,” Jake walked into the shared bedroom, flicking his phone onto the middle table.

“Who?’ Sunghoon asked, eyes still stuck on the book he nestled in his lap.

“My dad,” Jake stated.

That got Sunghoon’s attention. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Jake plopped down on his bed, surprised by the lack of wrinkles on the sheets and messy laundry. Sunghoon had cleaned it up earlier, unable to have the sight of clutter. “He said business has been picking up again. Things seem good, apparently.”

“Oh,” Sunghoon’s gaze dropped, unable to look at Jake’s triumph. A low anxiety settled in his stomach, his muscles tensed. “I’m happy to hear that,” he said, and he meant it. But he wasn’t sure what the consequences of that would be.

“You’re worried about the diner now, aren’t you?”

Sunghoon and Jake were twenty-six now. They’d met at twenty-one- two strangers with miserable jobs and a few bills in their pockets- and somehow, five years later, they were still shoulder to shoulder.

They’d started the diner together, moved into a tiny rented flat above it, and never really left each other’s orbit. It was five years of waking up to the same alarms, sharing the same instant coffee, arguing about grocery budgets, crashing after shifts in the same room. They'd grown around each other like ivy- tight, inevitable, inseparable.

It wasn’t just closeness; it was muscle memory. The kind of bond where silence filled in the blanks and secrets barely had time to form. They never needed to say much to be understood. Some things stayed unspoken, sure, but even those things were known in that quiet, mutual way.

Over the years, they’d learned how to read each other better than the back of their own hands.

Sunghoon knew Jake got cranky when he was hungry, that he liked ketchup on his rice sometimes and got defensive about it, that he flicked his wrist when nervous and couldn’t keep still when something bothered him.

Jake knew that Sunghoon didn’t like being touched by new people, that a small smile from him meant more than full paragraphs, that when his brows dipped ever so slightly, it meant he was in his head again- thinking too hard, spiraling quietly.

“Your brows are drooping.”

Sunghoon tutted at him, turning his head to hide his expression. “What are you on about?”

Jake sighed and lifted himself off the bed, circling around the table to reach Sunghoon. He towered over him, which was odd. Sunghoon was the taller one between them. But as he looked at Jake now, curled into a corner of his bed, he felt small and weak- like the future wasn’t in his hands anymore.

“Listen,” Jake started, a firm hand placed on Sunghoon’s knee. “I’m not leaving the diner until you do, understand?”

Sunghoon leaned his head against the wall, eyes stubbornly fixated on his book. 

“I stuck with you while you sent money back home for your sister and you stuck with me when I was sending money back to my family,” Jake continued. “We’re in this together, man,” he patted his knee. “I’m not leaving you hanging.

Finally, Sunghoon turned to him, eyes narrowed, almost like he was holding sorrow. “I’m grateful for you, Jake,” he mumbled. The world felt foreign in his mouth- foreign to Jake’s ears. He didn’t say things like that- not often, not at all. But Jake didn’t poke fun at him for it. “I hope you know that.”

“I know,” Jake gave him a curt smile and settled at the edge of the bed, whatever spec was left beside Sunghoon’s legs.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“What is it?”

Sunghoon almost hesitated, afraid that it would ruin the moment. He licked his lips, tongue suddenly dry. The thought itself made him feel confused, light headed. “Do you like Y/N?”

Jake immediately scoffed. “I just told you my family’s making more money and that’s the question you ask?” He wasn’t offended. In fact, he had a teasing smile on his mouth, a light expression. But Sunghoon knew that it was his way of steering a conversation, of changing the topic.

“I’m being serious,” Sunghoon raised his voice. “What exactly are we doing here?”

Jake thought about it for a moment- Y/N. He couldn’t deny that her name always brought a pang to his chest- the good kind. The kind of feeling you get when your mother cooks your favourite food for dinner or the feeling you get when you realise you’re someone’s favourite person. He smiled every time just thinking about her- her shy gazes, the way she could banter with him, the way she helped him cheat in mahjong.

What exactly were they doing?

How could he even let this happen?

Despite everything he was starting to feel himself, Jake couldn’t ignore the way Sunghoon was around her. It was different- undeniably, unmistakably different. He was softer with her. Not in any dramatic or romantic way, not overtly, but in the small things.

Sunghoon, who usually kept people at arm’s length, who bristled at new conversations and avoided eye contact when he wasn’t in the mood- he welcomed her in. He smiled more, spoke first, ran across the neighbourhood with a tube of cockroach repellent because she called him in a panic. He listened to her, remembered things she said in passing, let his guard down in ways Jake had rarely seen, even after five years of friendship.

Jake watched it all from the sidelines- quietly, almost respectfully- but it gnawed at him. Jake knew his friend. And he knew this girl made him happy- that this wasn’t just kindness. It was carefulness.

“I don’t know,” Jake finally said, not knowing how to articulate his thoughts. He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. “I really don't- she’s-,” he sucked in a breath. “The mahjong, the random trips, just her presence. I don’t know what it’s doing to me.”

“You do,” Sunghoon insisted. “You’re just denying it.”

“I can say the same for you.”

Sunghoon looked away now. “I guess, I don’t know either,” he admitted and let a moment of silence pass by them. “It’s really up to her now, isn’t it?”

Jake hung his head low, picking at his nails. “Yeah, I guess it is,” he sighed- and suddenly, his eyes were on Sunghoon again, hand on his knee. “But I hope you know- whatever happens-”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon didn’t need him to finish the sentence. He just knew. And the silent acknowledgement between them was good enough.

xii. 

Sunghoon was getting good at mahjong- his moves were more confident now, his hands steady as he arranged his tiles. He wasn’t winning every round, but he was no longer the tentative beginner he had been a few weeks ago. The grandmas had started nodding in approval, their teasing turning into genuine respect.

Jake, on the other hand, was still struggling. Every turn he made was accompanied by an exaggerated sigh or a panicked glance toward Y/N. More often than not, he leaned closer to her, whispering questions like, “Wait, is this one good?” or “Do I throw this? Or is that, like, a war crime in mahjong?”

Y/N tried to keep a straight face, whispering back in between her own turns, giving him subtle clues without outright cheating. But even then, Jake's face would scrunch in concentration like he was defusing a bomb, only to make a hilariously bad move and groan dramatically when the grandmas cackled.

“Maybe you’re just not built for this,” Sunghoon said once, eyeing Jake’s chaotic tiles.

Jake shot him a glare. “Sorry I didn’t emerge from the womb with mahjong instincts like you.”

It was an empty afternoon again, one where their usual customers were either busy with work or had already come and gone. It was one of those evenings where Sunghoon and Jake could put their diner duties aside and tend to a game of mahjong. And this time, instead of macaroni in broth, they had the new prawns that had been added to the menu.

Sunghoon won that round- against Jake and two grandmas.

“Again?” Jake groaned, slumping back in his chair. “That’s your third win in a row. This is rigged.”

One of the grandmas clicked her tongue. “It’s not rigged, boy. He’s just better than you.”

Jake threw his hands up. “Traitors, all of you.”

Sunghoon only smirked, stacking his tiles neatly while the grandmas reshuffled theirs with seasoned ease. Y/N returned a phone call just in time to catch Jake pouting. 

“Another loss?” She guessed, setting down a fresh pot of tea.

“He cheats,” Jake muttered, pointing at Sunghoon.

Sunghoon leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. “Tell them how you discarded a winning tile. Again.”

“I was distracted,” Jake defended. “You were humming. Who hums while playing mahjong?”

“I do,” Sunghoon replied easily, glancing up at Y/N.

She laughed and settled next to Jake, stealing a warm rice cracker from one of the side bowls. “Maybe humming is your power move.”

“No,” Jake said, pushing the cracker bowl toward her. “His power move is being unreasonably good at everything.”

Sunghoon shrugged, like he couldn’t be blamed for his talents. “You’ll get there eventually.”

Jake didn’t reply to that- he just looked at Sunghoon for a moment, then turned away, his smile tight around the edges.

Y/N broke the moment by asking, “One more round?”

“Believe me, I want to,’ Sunghoon grinned, watching Jake roll his eyes. “But we really need to get that cooker fixed.”

“Right, that was today,” Jake grumbled, already leaving his chair to untie his apron. 

The grandmas immediately started groaning in protest.

“You can’t leave on a winning streak,” one of them complained, dramatically slapping a tile down.

“Children these days,” the other muttered. “No sense of honour.”

Jake put his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright! We’ll make it up to you next time. Promise.”

“You said that last week,” the first grandma narrowed her eyes.

“That time I meant it less,” Jake said as he backed away toward the kitchen, “this time I mean it more.”

Y/N turned to Sunghoon, eyebrows raised. “What happened to the cooker?”

“It started sparking,” he said plainly, gathering up the tea cups. “I turned it off before it blew up. Jake panicked and tried to throw salt at it,” he added under his breath.

“I panicked like a normal person!” Jake called from the back.

Y/N laughed. “That explains why everything tasted weird yesterday.”

Sunghoon paused, then looked at her deadpan. “That was Jake’s cooking.”

A crash echoed from the kitchen. “I heard that!”

Y/N grinned as she stood up to help stack the mahjong tiles. “Where are you getting it fixed?”

“Place a few streets over. Some guy Jake knows,” Sunghoon said, slipping into his shoes near the door. “Are you free? You should come?.”

Y/N looked down at her phone, then at the door. “I am.”

Jake poked his head out. “We’ll get snacks after.”

“Sold,” she smiled, grabbing her jacket.

They walked to the market, the broken cooker tucked under Jake’s arm like some odd, metallic baby. He led the way with a confidence that only came from knowing every shortcut and side street in this part of town, throwing back quick comments without ever breaking his stride.

“Left here,” he called over his shoulder. “The guy’s stall is just past the tea shop that smells like socks.”

Sunghoon wrinkled his nose. “That’s specific.”

“You’ll smell it when we get there,” Jake said cheerfully.

Y/N walked in the middle, quietly entertained, her gaze darting between the signs and the noisy carts rattling past them. The morning air had settled into a pleasant kind of warmth- sunlight catching on wet pavement, leftover from a brief drizzle. It smelled like vegetables, vinegar, and fish. 

“You sure this guy’s legit?” Sunghoon asked, eyeing the wires poking out of the cooker.

Jake scoffed. “He fixed our microwave last year. It hasn’t exploded once.”

“That’s your bar for success?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jake grinned. “Low expectations, low disappointments.”

Sunghoon shook his head but didn’t argue. He just matched his pace with hers, occasionally nudging her away from puddles she didn’t notice.

They reached the stall after one wrong turn and a minor argument about directions. The cooker was handed off, and the old man behind the counter promised to “have it breathing like a newborn” by sundown.

With time to kill, the trio ducked into a nearby street vendor alley, following the scent of fried dough and something sweet. Jake immediately beelined toward skewers; Y/N lingered at a cart selling mango sago; and Sunghoon stood at a distance, scanning both of them with that same quiet attentiveness he always wore when no one was watching.

Jake returned with a stick in each hand, waving one at her.

“It’s fried fish cake. Try it.”

She took a bite and made a face. “It tastes like regret.”

Jake laughed so hard he nearly dropped his own.

“I can make them better,” Sunghoon chuckled under his breath and handed her a small cup of chilled soy milk he’d picked up. “You’ll need this.”

As the three of them leaned against a low wall near the alley exit, chewing and sipping and laughing at nothing in particular, there was a pause- a moment soft and slow. A lull in the city’s noise, the kind that only comes when the company is easy and the day has no demands.

Y/N spoke first. “Do you guys ever get sick of spending every day together?”

Sunghoon blinked. Jake turned toward her. “Nope,” Jake said. “He annoys me less than most people.”

Sunghoon shrugged. “It’s been five years. Too late to start hating each other now.”

Y/N smiled. “You two are weirdly wholesome.”

Jake looked over at Sunghoon and raised an eyebrow. “Weirdly?”

Sunghoon just sipped his drink, not denying it, remembering the previous night’s conversation.

xiii. 

Y/N was nervous to visit their apartment.

It wasn’t because she didn’t want to go- she did, very much. It was just… strange. Strange to be friends with people like them. Jake and Sunghoon were twenty-six. They’d lived through things she hadn’t yet touched. They had bills and taxes and lived away from home. They ran a business. They had a cat that visited their diner every morning and a complicated relationship with a fish named Clementine.

Y/N, by contrast, was twenty. Barely. One of those overachieving kids who had done everything right- grades, clubs, national-level sport that now made her knees click, university courses that looked impressive on paper but left her exhausted. On most days, she still asked her mom where the scissors were.

She told her parents she was going to meet a college friend that afternoon. Which wasn’t a lie, not exactly. Just not the whole truth. She didn’t know how to explain her friendship with Jake and Sunghoon- their diner, their banter, the quiet comfort of peeling garlic at the counter while they bickered about radio stations.

So she didn’t. She just snuck out quietly, like she was doing something wrong, and met them at the corner where they’d said they’d be.

Now, she was knocking at their door.

Sunghoon opened the door, his usual calm composure softening into something warmer when he saw her- a glint in his eyes, a small toothy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Behind him, Jake was frantically sweeping the floor. It wasn’t an unusual sight. He’d done that plenty of times in the diner- he was the one who took care of it after all- but here, in the cozy mess of their home, it looked a little more chaotic.

Sunghoon leaned against the doorframe, amused. “I know he keeps the diner polished, but at home? He’s the messiest person I know.”

Jake straightened, tossing the broom aside with dramatic flair. “You’re just a clean freak. I’m normal.”

“Normal is debatable,” Sunghoon said, already stepping aside to let her in.

Y/N crossed the threshold slowly, curiosity bubbling beneath her nerves.

Their apartment was nothing like hers.

It was small- the kind of small that made everything feel close, almost intimate. The hall barely fit three people comfortably, and it connected directly to the open kitchen, where mismatched mugs hung on a rail and bags of flour were stacked in the corner like a permanent fixture. She caught a glimpse of the single bedroom beyond, where two beds sat neatly divided down the middle, each with a different colored blanket. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, light spilling out onto the floor tiles.

Jake noticed her glance and beamed. “I redid the whole thing myself. The bathroom, I mean. Best construction work of my life.”

Sunghoon cooked lunch for them that day- something quick but flavorful, the way he always did. Lately, it felt like all their hangouts revolved around food. Which, honestly, made sense. Jake and Sunghoon owned a diner. It was kind of their whole thing.

But Y/N didn’t mind. In fact, she loved it. She liked the rhythm of their lives, the casual way they threw ingredients together, the jokes tossed across the kitchen like confetti. She liked how nothing about them felt routine, even when it technically was. Around them, she didn’t feel like a cog in a machine, or like the overachieving kid who peaked too early. Her life wasn’t mundane anymore. Around them, she felt… interesting.

While Sunghoon moved around the kitchen with quiet focus, sleeves rolled up, Jake pulled a chair for her near the fish tank- a big, square glass box wedged beside a cluttered shelf and a sunlit window. Inside, four goldfish swam in lazy loops, their scales flashing gold and white in the water’s filtered light.

Y/N leaned closer, resting her chin on her palm. “Did you name them?”

“Nope,” Jake said, popping a cracker in his mouth. “They’re all called Clementine.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Yeah,” he nodded like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Every time one dies, we replace it and call the new one Clementine. At this point we’ve been through at least... seven? Eight? So now, they’re just all Clementine.”

Y/N burst into giggles, shaking her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s efficient,” Jake said, smug. “We don’t get emotionally attached, and we don’t have to remember names. Win-win.”

“Sunghoon, did you agree to this?” she called out.

From the stove, Sunghoon replied without turning. “I tried to name one Junebug once. He changed it back to Clementine in twenty-four hours.”

Jake grinned, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “It’s tradition.”

“So what’s for lunch?” Y/N asked, leaning forward on the table, the light from the window catching in her hair.

“You’ll see,” Sunghoon said coolly, eyes still trained on the stove as he added something into a sizzling pan.

Jake, without a word, got up and walked over to the low drawer under their small TV. He crouched, rummaged for a second, then returned with a battered deck of cards in hand. With a practiced flick, he started shuffling them, the soft snap of the cards punctuating the calm.

“Do you know how to play poker?” Jake asked, looking at Y/N with that glint of challenge he always wore before a game.

Y/N flushed and shook her head. “Nope.”

Jake gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “You know mahjong... but not poker?”

“It’s embarrassing, I know!” Y/N cried, laughing. “I’ve spent so much time playing with those damn tiles that I never got around to the cards.”

“Wow,” Sunghoon called over his shoulder. “What even got you into mahjong?”

“It’s like a thing in my family,” she said with a shrug. “All my aunts and uncles are obsessed. I basically had no choice. It was either learn or be exiled from game nights.”

Jake began dealing out three neat piles of cards onto the table. “Well,” he said, cracking his knuckles, “you’ve taught us mahjong. Now it’s time we return the favor.”

“Get ready to lose,” Sunghoon added, placing a lid over the simmering pot and finally joining them at the table. He smelled faintly of garlic and soy.

Y/N narrowed her eyes playfully. “You’re both very confident for people who nearly cried during a tile draw last week.”

Jake raised his hand. “That was Sunghoon.”

“I did not cry,” Sunghoon said flatly.

“You almost did.”

“Chopped onions were on the table.”

“There were no onions,” Jake said.

“There were onions in my heart,” Sunghoon replied.

Y/N snorted, half-folding in on herself with laughter as Jake passed her her hand of cards.

Sunghoon returned from the kitchen, balancing three mismatched plates in his hands. He set them down one by one, the warm aroma immediately curling into the air like an embrace.

It was a simple lunch- egg fried rice with just the right amount of sesame oil, pan-seared tofu with a crisp glaze, and stir-fried greens. But what made Y/N pause, just for a second, was that it was somehow all her favorites. Things she’d mentioned offhandedly before, little details she hadn’t realized they’d remembered.

She looked up. Sunghoon was already settling into his seat, acting like it wasn’t a big deal.

Jake clapped once, oblivious. “Okay, we eat and play. Ultimate multitasking.”

“I can’t learn a new game and chew at the same time,” Y/N protested, laughing.

Jake winked. “Sure you can. That brain of yours? Gifted.”

Sunghoon reached for the cards. “We’ll go slow. I’ll talk you through it.”

They began.

Jake narrated with too much enthusiasm, while Sunghoon clarified things with quiet patience. Y/N listened, nodded, and still somehow managed to mess up the first round.

“Wait, I thought two queens was good,” she said, frowning at her hand.

“It is,” Jake said, “but not if I have three kings.”

“Oh.”

Sunghoon slid her a napkin. “You’re doing fine.”

Y/N laughed as she took a bite of tofu. It was perfectly crisp, not too salty- exactly how she liked it. She didn’t say anything, but she met Sunghoon’s eyes for a moment across the table, and he gave her a small, barely-there smile before looking back down at his hand of cards.

Something about that smile made her chest feel tight, but not in a bad way.

They kept playing- Jake competitive, Y/N increasingly flustered, Sunghoon quietly amused. The game was half-played, half-taught, interrupted constantly by someone reaching for rice or teasing someone else.

Somewhere between losing her third hand and trying to sneak a peek at Jake’s cards, Y/N gave up and leaned back with a groan. “Okay, wait. Pause. Can we talk for a second? You can’t just keep destroying me in poker without a little storytelling.”

Jake raised a brow but didn’t stop shuffling. “Are you trying to distract us so you can win?”

“Maybe,” she grinned. “But seriously- how did you two end up opening a diner?”

Sunghoon didn’t look up from his cards. “Long story.”

“We were both broke, had struggling families, and hated our jobs,” Jake explained. “We worked in the same restaurant- he was a chef and I was there for some reconstruction work. We met one night by chance and just-”

“Quit,”  Sunghoon finished his sentence. “We quit within a week, rented that space out and opened the diner. spent all our savings on it.”

“And we're doing much better now, obviously,” Jake said. “The diner is doing so well.”

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled. “It's my favourite restaurant.”

“You’re lying,” Sunghoon mumbled again, not looking up from his cards.

It wasn’t accusation- just disbelief, soft around the edges. He couldn’t quite picture it, not when Y/N probably ate at places with white tablecloths and waiters in pressed shirts. The kind of restaurants with velvet cushions instead of plain wooden chairs, ambient jazz instead of a jukebox in the corner. Not… their place- their little diner with its flickering sign and chipped coffee mugs.

But when Y/N leaned forward, her smile calm and certain, something about it quieted that disbelief. “I’m really not,” she said.

The game began to dissolve somewhere around the fifth round. Y/N stared down at her cards, utterly lost, as Jake tried (and failed) to keep a straight face while explaining the rules for the third time.

“I give up,” she groaned, tossing the cards down in mock defeat. “This is too much. I’m never going to get it.”

Sunghoon chuckled softly but didn’t say anything. He’d already won the last two rounds without even trying. Now he was leaning back, sipping the last of his tea, eyes watching the cards like they still had something to say.

Jake tapped the table. “Alright, alright. Poker night is officially over.”

“Thank God,” Y/N muttered.

There was a pause. Then Jake stood up, brushing crumbs from his jeans. “Wanna see Sunghoon’s stash of old books?”

Sunghoon raised a brow but didn’t object. He just let out a soft exhale and nodded once. “Go ahead. It’s under my bed.”

Jake grinned, already halfway to the bedroom. Y/N followed him, not quite sure what to expect.

Their bedroom was simple. Two twin beds, pushed against opposite walls, with a narrow dresser squeezed in between. The room smelled faintly of citrus and something smoky- like old wood or incense. Jake knelt down and tugged at the edge of one of the beds before dragging out two large cardboard boxes, the sides worn soft with use.

“Behold,” he announced dramatically, “the Dragon’s Hoard.”

“Jake, don’t call it that,” Sunghoon called from the table, his voice muffled but amused.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor as Jake opened one of the boxes. Inside were books of all sizes- hardbound, leather-bound, dog-eared paperbacks. Some were stacked with scraps of tissue between the pages, others had post-its jutting out like flags.

She reached in slowly, reverent. The first thing her fingers touched was a thin volume of poems- its cover pale blue, the title fading into silver scrollwork. She opened it. Inside, the pages were covered in Sunghoon’s neat handwriting- translations, notes, small circles around particular lines.

“This is beautiful,” she whispered.

Jake smiled. “He found one at a flea market in Busan. Swears it changed his life.”

Y/N gently lifted another- a weathered book of Korean folktales, the cover cracked and stained from time. Beneath it, a French novel, a Japanese ghost story collection, a hand-sewn booklet of traditional recipes.

“How does he even find these?” She asked.

Jake shrugged. “He has a radar for them. Even on our busiest days, he’ll walk past a pile of trash and somehow come back with a book worth reading.”

Y/N chuckled, then hesitated. “Why does he keep them here? Why not on a shelf?”

“We kinda don’t have space for a shelf,” Jake paused, sitting on the bed. “But he says if he sees them every day, he gets distracted. He wants to forget about them for a while. Let them surprise him again when he opens the box.”

“That’s…” She trailed off, touched in a way she couldn’t name.

Sunghoon had been standing at the frame of the door, silent and making himself invisible. The pair didn’t realise he was there. 

“You can borrow some if you want,” Sunghoon offered. 

Y/N, startled, turned back to look at him. “I couldn’t… are you sure?”

“You’ll take care of them.”

xiv. 

Y/N had a set of ceramic plates that she liked to collect. She hadn’t told anyone about it- the confession always made her feel a little old. But she’d been collecting for a while now, and it was easy, considering all the markets around her had at least one stall that sold ceramic items.

That morning, before going to the diner to play mahjong with the grandmas, she realized that one of the plates had broken. Honestly, it wasn’t that deep- but it seemed to bother her more than she liked. The frustration seeped into her game, clouded her focus, and tugged at her expression. Everyone could tell she was off.

“What’s wrong, honey?” One of the grandmas asked, pausing mid-turn.

“Oh, nothing,” Y/N sighed, her fingers fidgeting with one of the mahjong tiles.

The conversation made both Sunghoon and Jake stop in their tracks- Jake paused mid-wipe, rag in hand, while Sunghoon froze over the chopping board, green onions half-sliced. They wouldn’t say they were eavesdropping- they knew they were listening- but it didn’t feel like they were supposed to be part of the conversation.

“I have this plate that I really liked, and it cracked this morning,” Y/N explained. “Like, straight into three big pieces. Just broke.”

“Oh, sweetie, that’s what’s bothering you?” Another grandma chuckled, rubbing her back in gentle comfort.

“It’s stupid,” Y/N laughed softly at herself and tried to get back to the game.

“Jake knows how to fix plates,” Sunghoon blurted out.

The group turned- first to look at Sunghoon in the kitchen, then to Jake leaning casually against a table nearby.

Jake had his arms crossed. He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s just glue and some paint. I’ve fixed a few in the restaurant.”

Y/N looked down at her plate again, realizing exactly what he was talking about- the dish in front of her had faint cracks near the rim, sealed with glue and tinted to blend in.

“I could help?” Jake offered casually.

Without waiting for an answer, he disappeared into the kitchen. The clatter of drawers opening and closing echoed faintly, and moments later he returned, holding up a familiar tube of glue like a tiny trophy.

He gave her a small grin. “Just say the word.”

A long walk later, Jake was in Y/N’s apartment, and it was exactly as Sunghoon had described it.

“Very Y/N,” Sunghoon had said once, and Jake hadn’t known what that meant until now.

It was quiet- not sterile, but composed. Like the kind of place where every object had a story, every corner had been arranged with quiet care. Ceramic bowls sat neatly on a shelf in the dining nook. A bookshelf leaned against the wall, not overflowing but selective. Plants, small ones, lined the windowsill like they belonged there.

Jake stood just inside the living room, the broken plate wrapped in cloth in his hands, careful not to track any dust in from outside.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” Y/N said, although there was no mess to be seen. She shut the front door behind him quickly and quietly. “My parents are still at work. You’ve got like, an hour.”

Jake grinned, whispering in mock secrecy. “Wow. So this is a covert mission.”

“You’re literally fixing a plate,” she rolled her eyes, trying to keep her voice low. “Let’s go to the dining table. It’s better lit there.”

Jake followed, placing the wrapped plate gently down. “Still can’t believe you didn’t tell anyone you collect ceramics.”

She pulled out chairs for both of them. “Because it sounds weird and delicate and obsessive. I’m already enough of a nerd.”

“I think it’s kinda cute,” he said, unwrapping the broken pieces. 

They sat beside each other, knees slightly touching. Neither were bothered by it, neither seemed to care. Jake brought out the small tube of glue and a brush from the pocket of jeans. Y/N watched as he carefully arranged the broken pieces on the table. His movements were slow and calculated. For someone so chaotic most of the time, he was strangely calm now.

“Do you do this often?” She asked.

“Sunghoon drops things constantly. We have a bunch of glued-together dishes at the diner. But I’ve gotten better at hiding the cracks.”

Y/N reached out to turn one piece gently, aligning it with another. “Don’t hide them.”

He paused. “No?”

She shook her head. “I kinda like the cracks.”

Jake looked at her- like, really looked at her. Her brow was furrowed just slightly, eyes focused on the jagged edges, like she cared about the object not just as a plate, but as something worth saving. It made something tug in his chest.

“Alright then,” he murmured. “We’ll keep the cracks.”

They worked in silence for a while, fitting the three pieces back together like a little puzzle. Y/N held them steady as Jake applied the glue, his fingers brushing hers a few times- warm, gentle, fleeting. Once it was secure, he pulled out a small tube of gold paint.

“What’s that?”

“Kintsugi style,” he said. “Fixing the cracks with gold. Makes it prettier. I saw it in some article and started doing it at the diner.”

Y/N watched in quiet fascination as he used a thin brush to trace the fault lines in the ceramic with gold. It gleamed, soft and subtle, catching the light from the window.

“There,” Jake leaned back slightly, admiring the plate between them. “Better?”

“It’s beautiful,” Y/N whispered.

Her fingers hovered just above the gold-lined cracks, not quite touching the surface. Something about the way the gold shimmered softly in the afternoon light made the plate feel even more precious now- like its story had only just begun. She looked up, about to say something else, but stopped when she realized Jake hadn’t looked away.

He was watching her.

Not like how someone watches a friend, or even with his usual teasing curiosity- but quietly, almost searching. His eyes softened as they met hers, and suddenly, it was like the space between them had shrunk to nothing. They hadn’t moved- but they were closer.

The moment pressed in, slow and quiet.

Jake’s arm was still on the table, elbow bent, fingers smeared faintly with gold paint. Y/N’s hand rested near his, close enough that the backs of their fingers brushed without meaning to. Neither of them pulled away.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, just barely. Her heart fluttered wildly, and she knew- she just knew- that he could hear it in the silence between them.

She didn’t know who leaned in first. Maybe no one had, maybe it was just gravity, pulling them together the way it always did when people sat a little too close and looked a little too long.

Jake’s eyes flickered down to her lips, then back up. Just once.

She didn’t speak. Neither did he.

Their faces were inches apart now. Her gaze had dropped to his mouth without realizing it, and when she met his eyes again, there was something unreadable there- an emotion suspended between impulse and restraint.

Her lips parted slightly.

Jake moved- just a breath forward.

And then he pulled back.

It was slow, intentional. His eyes didn’t leave hers until the distance returned, enough to break the spell. And then, of course, he smiled. That crooked, half-sincere, half-distracting Jake smile.

“I should get back to the diner,” he said, voice soft but steady.

Y/N blinked, a beat too late. The spell cracked. “Right,” she said quickly. “Yeah. Of course.”

Jake stood up, running a hand through his hair as if trying to shake something off. He stuffed the glue and brush back into his back pocket with practiced ease, like he hadn’t just pulled away from something almost fragile.

Y/N remained seated, watching him move around the room, suddenly unsure of where to look. Her chest still felt tight- not painfully so, just… alert. Like she’d been holding something too close to the edge.

Jake slung his bag over his shoulder and turned toward her, pausing by the doorway. His eyes found hers again, gentler now, more familiar.

“Thanks for letting me come over,” he said. “And trusting me with your cracked plate.”

She gave a small smile. “No. Thanks for fixing it.”

Jake grinned. “Anytime, darling.”

Then he was gone, slipping out the door like he hadn’t almost kissed her- like he hadn’t just left a quiet storm behind.

xv. 

Y/N came to the diner that evening just like she always did. The neon sign buzzed quietly above the doorway, casting a soft pink glow over the sidewalk. The cat- a sleepy little thing who’d claimed the entrance as her own- was curled up just beside the door. Y/N paused for a second, crouched to scratch gently behind her ear, then stood and slipped inside. The air was warm, carrying the familiar scent of broth and soya sauce, and the gentle hum of clinking cutlery filled the space like usual.

"Morning," Jake grinned, tossing her a wink.

Y/N returned the smile. 

And Jake went back to talking to Sunghoon, laughing about something she didn’t catch. He waved when he saw her, casual and easy. Sunghoon clearly didn’t know about what had happened- about what hadn’t happened.

And perhaps he didn’t need to know. Perhaps there truly was nothing there to know. Over the night, Y/N had convinced herself that nothing had happened- that she was too in her head.

They played Mahjong that night like they always did. The grandmas were already seated at their usual table, shuffling tiles with practiced ease. Y/N joined them with a familiar smile, slipping into her seat as if nothing had changed. If anyone noticed her slightly quieter demeanor, they didn’t say anything.

Jake was the same- animated, teasing, losing every single round with exaggerated groans and theatrical sighs. Sunghoon won a round when Y/N stepped away to refill her tea, and the grandmas joked that it was only because she wasn’t playing.

Everything, on the surface, was normal.

By the time the grandmas started gathering their things, the sky had dipped into a deeper blue, and the diner had emptied of customers. The soft clatter of dishes from the kitchen was the only other sound in the quiet space.

Jake dried his hands on a towel and checked his phone. “Shit, I have to go. That hardware guy just texted- he closes in fifteen and he’s holding that sink part for me.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair, tossing a wave toward Y/N. “I’ll be back in, like, twenty minutes.”

Y/N nodded. “Don’t rush.”

Then it was just her and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon looked at her from across the table.

“Want to keep playing?” He asked, already reaching for the tiles.

Y/N gave a small smile. “Sure.”

They played slowly at first. No banter, no distractions- just the soft click of tiles on the table and the low murmur of their voices calling out suits. The silence wasn’t awkward, though. It was focused, easy, and in some odd way, comforting. Outside, the sky had turned the color of steel.

A few moves in- it started to rain.

At first, it was gentle- a steady pattering against the diner windows. But soon, it grew louder, heavier. Fat drops streaked across the glass, turning the neon glow from the sign into a pinkish blur.

Sunghoon glanced up from his hand and let out a small laugh. “Of course it’s raining.”

Y/N turned to look outside. “Of course.”

His phone buzzed on the table. He checked it, then held it out for her to see.

Jake: Took shelter in that garage down the street. Raining too hard to walk. I’ll go straight home from here.

Sunghoon pocketed his phone. “Guess it’s just us.”

Y/N gave a noncommittal hum and started shuffling the tiles again.

“Your parents won’t get worried?” He asked.

She shook her head. “They’re not home,” she gave him a soft smile.

They’d been playing for what felt like hours- time stretching long and slow the way it does when there’s nowhere else to be. The diner was still wrapped in rainlight and quiet, the kind of quiet that settles deep into your bones. Outside, the world was all wet pavement and streaked windows. Inside, the Mahjong tiles whispered across the table, and somewhere in the corner, the cat stretched, tail twitching in sleep.

“You’re cheating again,” Sunghoon said suddenly, voice low but edged with amusement. He didn’t look up right away, just tilted his head toward her tiles, eyes flicking over the suspiciously good hand she was building.

Y/N glanced at him through her lashes. “I’m just good, Sunghoon. Accept defeat.”

He chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He glanced down at his own hand, pretending to study it, but his fingers stayed still on the tiles.

The rain outside pressed harder against the windows, beads of water tracking down the glass like slow-moving tears. The neon diner sign was little more than a hazy smear now- pink and gold rippling across puddles. The lights inside buzzed softly overhead.

“You know,” Sunghoon said, still not looking at her, “I used to think I liked the quiet.”

Y/N stilled, mahjong tiles stuck between her fingers. She didn’t interrupt- just watched and waited.

“Before you showed up, this place was quiet in a way that felt... right. Not good, not bad. Just what it was. Like breathing. Or peeling wallpaper. Something that doesn’t ask for attention.”

She tilted her head, eyes softening. He still wasn’t looking at her.

“And then you came in.” He finally raised his gaze- not sharp, not teasing. He looked steady and sincere, like everything in his life had built up to this moment. “With your laugh that made the Mahjong grandmas forget it was their turn, your ease, your kindness. I don’t even know what you did but you changed everything,” he smiled, barely- the kind that cracked at the corners but didn’t last long. “And it stopped being quiet. And I didn’t want it back.”

Her fingers lingered on a tile she hadn’t yet played. The cat, curled up beneath a booth nearby, stirred slightly, sensing the shift in atmosphere.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said. “When I should’ve. I told myself it’d pass. That you’d get bored eventually. With the udon. The broken tables. The smoke. With us,” he swallowed, like the words sat thick in his throat. “But you didn’t leave. And I kept not saying anything. And now…”

A beat. The sound of distant thunder, low and slow.

“I don’t need you to love me back, Y/N,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I just needed you to know I do.”

He looked down, finally breaking eye contact. He reached forward, picked up a tile like nothing had shifted- like the weight of what he’d said didn’t sit heavy between them now.

Then he placed it down gently.

“Your move.”

xvi. 

The thing about Sunghoon was that he was always normal.

He could lose a limb and still wake up at 6:30, make rice the same way, fold the same tea towels, and sweep the front of the diner like the earth hadn’t shifted beneath his feet. He was built for composure- for endurance- the kind of person who swallowed chaos like pills with water and never spoke of the side effects. Even when his world cracked, he would smooth over the edges and carry on.

So, in the days that followed, Sunghoon treated Y/N exactly the same.

Same half-smile when she walked in. Same deadpan sarcasm when she dropped a Mahjong tile. Same way he slid a steaming bowl of soup across the counter and said “too salty today. Don’t complain.”

No lingering glances. No awkward silences. No change in tone, no shift in air.

It should have been comforting- familiar, even. But to Y/N, it felt like standing in a room where someone had painted over the walls in the exact same shade, except one spot hadn’t dried, and you couldn’t stop noticing it.

She didn’t bring it up. Neither did he.

Jake didn’t seem to notice anything was off. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t say anything either- a theme, it seemed, between the three of them.

The Mahjong games resumed. The grandmas teased, the udon simmered, and the diner breathed in its usual rhythm.

But Y/N couldn’t quite get her own rhythm back.

She wasn’t cold with Sunghoon. She wasn’t avoiding him. She just didn’t know what to do with the space he’d created between them- that strange invisible line he’d drawn and then walked away from like it didn’t exist.

And maybe that was the part that stuck with her the most.

He had told her he loved her- and then went right back to washing dishes like it meant nothing.

Like it was a Tuesday. Like she was just another girl who came in for soup and Mahjong.

It was the weekend of the Mid-Autumn Festival. The neon diner sign stayed off for once, its usual greenish glow swallowed by the soft, flickering lantern light that spilled through the streets.

They had planned it a week ago- Sunghoon, Jake, and Y/N- to spend the evening at the local carnival just a few streets away. The kind of event strung together by plastic booths, cheap music, roasted chestnuts, and paper lanterns that hung overhead like constellations.

Y/N stood near the corner of the intersection, half-watching the festival lights blur through the fogged street lamps, when she saw Jake approaching alone, she got concerned. 

For a moment, a quiet panic settled in- the kind that bloomed without warning. Was this Sunghoon’s way of pulling away? Of singling her out after what he had said? Maybe this was how things would start to shift- subtly, awkwardly- until the warmth between them curdled into something unfamiliar. She hadn’t expected it to sting like this.

She blinked, brows pulling together. “Where’s Sunghoon?”

Jake shrugged, already a few steps away from her. “Fever. Again. Happens every year around this time. He always pretends it won’t, and then he crashes like clockwork.”

Y/N frowned, concern flickering across her features.

Jake waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. I’ve spent every Mid-Autumn either dragging him around or stuck inside making him soup. This time,” he said, flashing her a grin, “I actually get to go with someone who won’t cough on me the whole night.”

Y/N’s eyes softened just as he reached her. And for a second, Jake just looked at her, examined her. His smile shifted from playful to something quieter, more genuine.

“You look incredible, by the way,” he said. “The qipao suits you.”

She smoothed down the side of her dress, suddenly aware of how snug the fabric felt. “Thank you.”

“Red’s your favorite color, isn’t it?”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “…Yeah.”

They walked side by side down the narrow street, the buzz of music growing louder, blending with the rustle of leaves and the shouts of children chasing each other between stalls. The festival had swallowed the neighborhood whole- lanterns strung like stars across the rooftops, booths selling everything from fried dumplings to rabbit-shaped buns, the air thick with sweet and savory smoke.

Jake bought roasted chestnuts and passed her a warm paper packet. She took one, let it rest in her palm before cracking it open.

“You always this generous with your snacks?” She asked.

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Only for people who don’t mock me at Mahjong.”

She grinned. “So never?”

They moved from stall to stall with no real direction, the rhythm of the carnival pulling them along like a tide. Jake bought her more snacks, pointed out the worst-dressed lanterns, and cracked jokes at every booth. He didn’t hesitate to reach for skewers, barter with vendors over silly prices, or shove her gently toward the candied hawthorn stand when she hesitated.

When they passed a game booth- the kind with flashing lights, plastic hammers, and impossible odds - Y/N began to move past it without thinking. But Jake stopped.

“Oho,” he said, eyes lighting up. “These are my thing.”

She gave him a skeptical glance. “Didn’t you just lose miserably at the ring toss?”

Jake scoffed. “That’s a scam. This,” he gestured at the game setup, “is skill. I am built for this.”

Y/N laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” he grinned. “Pick a prize.”

The booth was lined with prizes- neon frogs, cartoon ducks, little plush radishes with blushing faces, and at the center- a fat round cat wearing a red scarf.

Y/N raised a brow at the cat. “I like her.”

Jake nodded enthusiastically. “And you’ll have it.”

He handed over the tokens to the vendor, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his knuckles like a man preparing for battle. The music started, lights began to blink- quick and erratic- and Jake moved with speed and precision, hitting the right sequence with an ease that almost made it look choreographed.

The machine let out a cheerful jingle. Jackpot.

He shot her a smug smile. “Told you.”

The vendor, unamused but efficient, handed him the cat. Jake turned to Y/N and placed it gently in her arms with a mock ceremony. “For my lady.”

“You’re impossible,” she murmured, trying not to smile too wide.

When they reached the lantern-painting booth, Jake slowed his pace.

The space was tucked into a quieter bend of the carnival- half-lit by paper lanterns swaying gently from bamboo poles, the sound of laughter and music dulled here, like it had been placed under glass. People sat two-by-two at long, low tables. Children dipped brushes in watercolor, couples leaned close to whisper meanings behind symbols, old men painted silent wishes with practiced hands while their wives held the paper still.

It was intimate. Soft in a way that didn’t fit him.

Jake hesitated at the edge, hands in his pockets, scanning the crowd as if unsure this was a place he was allowed to step into. But Y/N had already slid into a seat, looking up at him with a raised brow and a half-smile.

“Come on,” she said, patting the bench beside her. “You don’t have to be poetic.”

Jake exhaled through his nose, smiled faintly, and took the seat next to her. He picked up a thin brush, stared at it for a second like it might bite him, and then dipped it into the ink.

“What are you painting?” He asked after a while, glancing at her paper.

Y/N tilted her lantern toward him- a red koi, bold and rising, swimming upward against a flow of soft blue current. Something about it reminded him of her- stubborn and graceful all at once.

He turned his own lantern around, showing her what he’d written:

Tin Cups Diner.

She snorted. “That’s it?”

Jake shrugged, half-grinning. “It’s the best place on earth.”

Y/N shook her head but didn’t tease him further. They just sat there for a moment, shoulders nearly brushing, watching each other from the corners of their eyes. The brush water rippled faintly between them.

Later, when the fireworks began- loud bursts splitting the sky into molten gold and violet- they left the crowds behind. The temple garden wasn’t far, a sloped patch of grass just beyond the canal. They found a quiet spot beneath a ginkgo tree, close enough to hear the river, far enough that their silence didn’t feel strange.

The lanterns had begun to float.

Dozens of them- painted, inked, marked with names and hopes and half-meant prayers- drifted down the canal like paper stars. Their glow danced in the water, flickering with each ripple, as if trying to stay alive just a little longer before the dark took them. They wondered how far their own lanterns had gotten.

Y/N sighed softly. “I used to come here with my cousins,” she said. “Every year. It always felt like something big would happen here. Like the year would change or something.”

Jake glanced sideways at her. “Maybe it is.”

She turned to him, unsure what he meant.

Jake reached down and tugged a blade of grass from the ground, rolled it between his fingers like he needed something to do with his hands. His gaze stayed on the canal, on the soft flicker of firelight reflecting off the water. And then he said, almost casually, “I think I’m falling for you.”

Y/N froze.

Jake didn’t look at her- not yet.

“I wasn’t going to say anything tonight. Didn’t want to ruin anything,” he added, with a breath of a laugh. “But then you smiled at that old lady who gave you the dumpling and I just... yeah.”

He finally turned to face her.

“You make everything feel easy. And loud. And too much. And I like it. I like you. I don’t know how it happened- how I got here. I woke up one day and I just knew. Liking you- loving you has been the easiest damn thing I've done in a while.”

His fingers flexed slightly, like he was holding back from reaching for her.

Jake pressed his lips together. “And I know that’s not fair. I know you didn’t ask for it. But that moment… that day in your house- when we almost kissed- that meant something. I know you felt it too.”

He leaned in just a little, like he was trying not to push, but couldn’t help himself.

“I’ve been trying to be the version of me that waits. That doesn’t ruin things. But I swear to God, Y/N, if I have to keep pretending that didn’t happen- that it didn’t change anything- I’ll lose my mind.”

Another pause. His voice dropped, almost like a confession to himself.

“I’m not asking you to pick. That would be unfair on you. I’m not trying to be the loudest voice in your head either. And if you don’t want to pick- that’s perfectly fine, too. I just… couldn’t let tonight end without you knowing that I’m already in it. All the damn way in it.”

READ ENDING HERE

[lveegsoi]

a little sneak peek of my wip. im gonna try to post it tomorrow or on sunday 🩷

[lveegsoi]

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡BITE ME

vampire!ni-ki who lived through centuries of loneliness and silence. Ni-ki has made a habit of feeling your pulse. When he’s holding your hand he likes to press his fingers slightly at your wrist. The slow rhythm of your pulse brings him comfort he hasn’t felt for so many years. He never said anything, he didn’t have to, but you’ve felt how he holds you just a little longer than necessary, how his thumb lingers, pressing gently against your pulse point, as if counting each beat. As if memorizing it. Because it reassures him. That you’re there, that you’re alive and that there’s still something human close enough to touch, to remind him he’s not entirely a monster.

vampire!ni-ki who pierce your bottom lip when he kisses you. At first he’d just peck your lips, quick and soft, but it’s never just a quick kiss with him, especially if he’s hungry for you. It would start slowly with one quick peck, that’s what you say to yourself every time he comes to kiss you, then he’d place a second kiss on your soft lips, one that went on slightly longer than the first. Then would come the third kiss, then the fourth, then the fifth. And just like that, one quick kiss would lead to a full make-out session. And then he’d bite. Not hard, not deep. The bite would be just sharp enough for his fang to pierce the soft flesh of your bottom lip. A single sting, so quick you wouldn’t have time to flinch. His tongue would slowly slide along your lip, tasting the small amount of blood on it. A low moan would leave his mouth as he loses himself in your taste.

“Sorry.” he’d murmur. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Then his thumb would brush your swollen lip, collecting the remaining blood , and after that he’d kiss you again, but this time softer, like he’s trying to say thank you without using words.

vampire!ni-ki who likes to fuck you in missionary or from behind, with your back pressed against his toned chest and one arm around your neck and the other between your legs. What Ni-ki loves the most is marking you up. Most of the time he doesn’t even realize he’s biting your neck while thrusting inside you, not until he hears soft whimpers leaving your mouth from the slight pain of the bite. Marking you is like a second nature to him- the possessiveness, the need to show the world who you belong to.

Aside from your neck, the inside of your thighs is his favorite place to leave his markings. How couldn’t he bite the soft skin of your legs when he goes to eat you out? It’s like placing a cup of blood in front of him and to expect him not to drink it.

vampire!ni-ki who also likes to be marked by you. He finds it cute when you try to imitate him by pressing your canines deeper into his skin, trying to make deep marks just like the ones on your body. Despite the effort you put into every bite, they would fade quicker than the marks he’d leave on your body. But rest assured, Ni-ki would definitely tattoo your bite mark on himself if it meant having a piece of you with him when you're no longer around.

divider by cursed-carmine

[lveegsoi]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆desire: unleashed

.ೃ࿐𝑏𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒

ׂ╰┈➤s. 𝑣𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑗𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 wc. 2k p.𝑓𝑒𝑚!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑣𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒!𝑗𝑎𝑘𝑒 w.𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑠𝑒𝑥 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑣𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑒 n. ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠!

three weeks had passed since the world twisted on its axis - since your best friend’s laughter dimmed into silence, since jake’s hands stopped feeling warm. three weeks since he disappeared for two endless nights and came back completely changed, the boy you once knew half-swallowed by something sharp, ancient and utterly broken.

you found him crouched in an underbrush, soaked to the bone, trembling uncontrollibly, his clothes torn and fingers painted red, like some kind of creature of myth. jake’s face had been unrecognisable at first - eyes wild, teeth sharp, the scent of blood clinging to him like second skin - and yet, beneath it all, it was still him. the same boy who had once tried to build you a treehouse and cried when he fell. the one who always carried gum for you even though he hated the taste.

you didn’t flinch when you discovered him. instead, you reached out with trembling hands, whispering his name into the quiet.

-

since that starry night, the two of you had resembled ghosts, drifting from one dark corner of the world to the next - motels, abandoned cabins, forests with no names, just to not get caught by hunters. you learned to sleep lightly and move quickly, to read the woods like a living, breathing thing. jake never stayed in one place for more than a day. you never asked what he did when he quietly slipped away at dusk with shadows marking his eyes, but you always felt it when he returned - colder, quieter, marked with guilt he never dared to voice.

you didn’t need him to say it, beacuse you knew.

he was hungry and not in the way humans hunger - not for warmth, food or touch - but in a way that clawed at his insides, gnawed at his conscience, and left painful bruises behind his ribs.

and yet, no matter how starved he became, he never touched you, not even once. that was more than a promise, a vow he was never going to break.

-

the pursuit today had been brutal in every way.

dogs barking, branches tearing, the glint of silver blades in the dark. you’d barely managed to outrun the hunters, lungs burning and heart threatening to crack your chest open. jake had pulled you after him, never letting go of your wrist, the two of you moving like a single shadow through the forest until you reached the edge of a cliff.

and then you jumped - a moment of wind, a heartbeat suspended in time. you had no idea if you were going to make it, but you trusted jake. and if you were going to die, then doing it with him would hurt a bit less.

the roar of the waterfall was endless - you were falling for what felt like an eternity, yet you still had your consciousness. you weren’t gone, your grip on jake’s hand unwavering.

suddenly, you were here beneath the god of water, which you just had a ride on. a cavern veiled by sheets of falling light, hidden from the world above. your body was more than shaking, soaked and aching, but you were okay, and all you could see was him standing with his back to you, rainwater streaming from his hair, muscles taut like he was barely holding something back.

you didn’t dare speak at first. you only watched the rise and fall of jake’s broad, freshly scarred shoulders, the way his fingers twitched at his sides as if resisting the urge to claw at himself. there was something frayed about him, fragile, as though he was moments from unraveling entirely.

when you finally took the courage to whisper his name, it came soft, raw, unsure. jake turned slowly, like it pained him to do so, and you met his eyes. they were not the warm amber you remembered - they glowed faintly now, gold laced with hunger, a storm brewing behind them.

you slowly stepped forward, which resulted in him flinching.

“i’m fine.” - he muttered, voice hoarse and low, but you knew him too well - that tone meant anything but. his hands were clenched into fists, knuckles white, jaw tight with restraint.

“you’re not” - you said gently, reaching for him even as he recoiled.

“don’t.” - he growled -“don’t get close.”

but you did. you always did.

“jake” - you whispered, fingertips grazing the edge of his torn-apart sleeve, “please. let me help.”

“i’m not human anymore” - he spat, each word bitter and full of shame. “i don’t even know what i am. i shouldn’t be anywhere near you. i want-”- he cut off, breath shuddering.

“i know”- you said. you swallowed hard, throat tight- “you’re starving.”

jake turned his face away- “i could hurt you.”

“you won’t.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i do.”

he finally met your gaze again, and the anguish there was unbearable - raw and unfiltered, like an open wound. jake looked like a man being torn apart from the inside. you could see the hunger, yes, but deeper still, there was fear. of himself, of losing control, of losing you.

and still - even now - there was longing - a different kind.

one he didn’t know you had in yourself too. onehe hadn’t said out loud. not yet.

so you decided to say it for him.

“i love you, jake.”

the words fell into the cavern like a confession carved in stone.

he stared at you, stunned, as though the idea had never occurred to him. love was something reserved for only for humans, for lives not dipped in blood and darkness.

“i love you.” - you say again, slower this time - “not because i pity you, not because i think i can fix you in any way, but because you’ve always been the one for me, the one, who occupies every crook of my heart. even before this.”

jake took a step toward you, then another.

the fear didn’t leave his face. if anything, it deepened- “you don’t understand what you’re saying” - he breathes. -“if you stay with me, you’ll be hunted too. you’ll never be safe. and i don’t even know if i can ever go back to who I was before.”

“i don’t want who you were” - you said, stepping forward until there was barely an inch between you - “i want you. whoever you are now.”

something twisted inside him then.

a sound escaped his throat - half sob, half growl - and his arms were around you before you could blink. he buried his face in the curve of your soft, wet neck, his breath icy, grip almost too tight. but it wasn’t violent. it was desperate, like a man trying to keep himself from sinking.

you pressed your lips to the side of his head and whispered -“you’re not a monster.”

“i am.”

“fine. so be it.”

he pulled back, just enough to look at your expression, and then jake’s mouth was on yours in the span of a heartbeat.

the kiss was nothing like you had imagined. it wasn’t soft, patient or hesitant - it was fierce, unsteady, like he was fighting himself even as he was giving in. his lips were cold at first, but they warmed quickly against yours, moving with a hunger that wasn’t about your pulse, but something far deeper.

you kissed him back with everything you’d been holding in for years -the ache, the unbearable love. your hands buried themselves into his wet, messyy hair as he pressed you against the stone wall of the cave, your breaths mixing in frantic gasps between kisses.

he was shaking not from cold, but restraint. his hands cradled your face like he was terrified you’d break under his touch.

“i’ve wanted this” - he said against your lips, voice breaking -“before all of this. before i changed.”

“so have i” - you breathed.

jake leaned his forehead against yours, both of you trembling, caught between ruin and salvation.

“i can’t lose you.” - he whispered

“and you won’t.” - you answered

you didn’t know who leaned in first this time, but when your lips met again, it was slower. deeper. the taste of him was wild and aching.

’’jake?’’ - you pulled away just enough to whisper

’’yes?’’

‘’please.’’ - you uttered, voice pleading for something you knew was going to torture his thirst to the maximum. your eyes were glistening with desire as you looked up at him, only to find the same expression written all over his own face.

jake lifted you into his arms and carried you deeper into the cave, where moss carpeted the stone and the sound of falling water felt like a heartbeat surrounding you. the world was nothing but shadows and breath. nothing but him and the way he touched you like you were something holy.

he laid you down like an untold prayer, and just before your bodies fell into each other completely, before you surrendered everything, he looked into your eyes and said:

“you’re the only thing keeping me even slightly human.”

then he dove into your scent completely. you were devastatingly beautiful under the weight of jake’s body - lips plump, skin wet and glowing, eyelashes fluttering up at him like he was the brightest star in the whole night sky. he loved you, and god was he willing to do anything to prove it to you now.

jake’s fingers traced the curve of your jaw, his touch featherlight, as if you might dissolve beneath him. his eyes - dark as the deepest night, yet alight with something hungry and tender - burned into yours. you arched into jake, hands sliding up his chest, feeling the unnatural stillness of his undead heart.

a shudder ran through him. his lips crashed against yours, not with the brutal hunger you had half-expected, but with a desperate, aching reverence. the kiss was deep, slow, intoxicating - each movement of his mouth against yours a promise, a plea.

jake’s hands roamed your body with a lover’s patience, learning every dip and curve as if you were truly sacred. the thin, almost destroyed fabric of your clothes was an unbearable barrier, and when his fingers finally slipped beneath, you gasped at the coolness of his touch against your fevered skin.

he worshiped you with his mouth, your throat, collarbone, the swell of your breasts - each kiss a brand, each sigh from your lips a torment to his restraint. you could feel the tension in him, the way his body trembled with the effort of holding back, the way his fangs grazed your skin in fleeting, dangerous caresses.

"tell me to stop" - he breathed against her stomach, voice ragged.

you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him up to meet your gaze. "never."

the word undid him.

his hips pressed against yours, and you felt him - hard, aching, every inch of him alive with need. the moss beneath cradled your bodies as he moved his dick inside you, rhythm slow at first, savoring the way you clenched around his length, the way your breath hitched when he filled you completely.

the mist clung to your skin, the waterfall’s song a relentless echo of your own pounding heart. jake buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts as he fought the unbearable urge to sink his fangs into your tender flesh.

"fuck, i want-" - he growled, voice thick with hunger.

"i know-" - you moaned, tilting your head back, baring your throat to him in reckless trust.

but jake only kissed you there, soft and lingering, before capturing your lips again. his thrusts grew deeper, more urgent, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, as if they had been made for this, for each other.

when the pleasure finally crested, it was your name on jake’s lips as he spilled inside. you followed him over the edge, your cry lost in the thunder of the falls, body trembling with the force of your release.

afterward, he held you close, fingers tracing idle patterns on your damp skin. the hunger still simmered in his gaze, but beneath it was something far more dangerous, something eternal.

and as the waterfall roared on, you knew - this was only the beginning.

-

divider credits: cursed-carmine

[lveegsoi]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ where enhypen would finish.

·˚ ༘𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑡

ׂ╰┈➤s. 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑢𝑚 wc. 1.4k w. 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡+ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 (18+ 𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖!) n. 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦!

heeseung - inside. to hee, there's nothing better than finishing inside you - the way your body tightens around him, the way your breath hitches, how he can feel every pulse of his release as he presses as deep as possible. it's more than pleasure - it's possession, it's devotion, it's the most intimate thing he can imagine.

that first shuddering moment when he spills inside you, your warmth surrounding him, thighs trembling against his hips. he lives for the way you gasp when you feel him, nails digging into his back like you never want him to leave.

there's also something primal about it - an instinctive need to claim, to fill you up so thoroughly that even after he pulls out, you're still his. heeseung loves the thought of you carrying his release inside you, even if just for a little while.

he swears you get tighter when he comes, like your body is milking every last drop from him. it's overwhelming, intoxicating, and he can't help but groan your name like a prayer when it happens.

you stay locked together, panting, his forehead pressed to yours as he rides out the aftershocks. he kisses you lazily, murmuring praise - "took me so well, baby." the possessive hand on your hip when he finally pulls out, watching his release drip from you.

"again" - because he's never satisfied just once. the second he catches his breath, he's already thinking about the next time he can fill you up.

jay - tits. there’s something electric about the moment he paints your chest - the way your skin flushes under his release, how your breath catches as warm streaks stripe your skin. it’s possessive, it’s filthy, and it drives him wild every damn time.

watching himself mark you - your tits glazed, nipples pebbled, his cum stark against your skin - it’s art to him. he’ll stare like he’s memorizing it, jaw clenched, pupils blown.

the way you arch into it, or gasp when the first hot stripe lands. maybe you even open your mouth without thinking, and fuck if that doesn’t make him throb.

his voice is rough when he says it, thumb swiping through the mess to smear it over your nipples - "made such a pretty fucking mess, baby."

he loves licking it off you - slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue, just to hear you whine. or maybe he makes you rub it in, his cum slicking your fingers as you play with yourself.

he’s already dreaming about the next time - maybe higher, maybe lower, maybe while you’re begging for it.

jake - ass. to him, nothing compares to the forbidden heat of finishing inside your ass - body clenching around him, audible whimpers when he fills you up, the way his release stays trapped deep inside where only he can reach. it's maddening, and so intoxicating he can't get enough.

that tight, searing heat - so much more intense than anywhere else. the second he pushes in deep and spills, he swears he sees stars, your body milking him dry with every damn pulse.

it’s animalistic - claiming you in the most forbidden way, leaving his mark where no one else can see. he loves knowing you'll feel it for hours after.

the choked gasp when he first pushes in, the broken moan when he comes, the way you beg "more" even as he's already giving you everything.

how you collapse together, his cock still buried inside you as he whispers filthy praise - "fuck, you take it so good." the way he lazily rubs your hips when he finally pulls out, watching his release leak from your well-used hole.

sunghoon - stomach. the deliciously primal feeling of coming on your stomach - how his release paints your skin, hot and claiming, as he watches with dark, satisfied eyes. it's not just about the pleasure, it's about seeing his desire spilled across you, marking you in the most visual way possible.

the way your chest rises and falls beneath him, stomach tensing as his release streaks across your skin - it's beautiful to him. he loves watching it, how stark and intimate it looks against your body.

if finishing inside you is about possession, this is about display - proof of what he's done to you, what you've drawn out of him. he gets off on the visual proof of your shared pleasure.

how you shiver when the first hot stripe hits your skin, the soft gasp you make when you see how much he's given you. he lives for the way you look up at him, lips parted, as he marks you.

and he's not gentle about it either - he wants it everywhere, smeared across your stomach, your hips, maybe even higher if he's feeling particularly possessive. the messier, the better, because it means you'll feel it on your skin long after.

"look at you” - the growl in his voice when he drags a thumb through it, spreading it further, marking you deliberately. "you’re mine".

sunoo - thighs. to him, it’s maddeningly erotic to come on your thighs - the way his release spills hot and thick against your skin, streaking down the sensitive inner flesh he'd just been teasing moments before.

your soft skin, flushed and trembling under his touch, now marked with him - it's a picture he'll never get tired of. the way his release glazes over your thighs, some dripping down toward your knees... fuck.

it’s so close to where you really want him, yet just out of reach - it's torture in the best way. the way you whine when he denies you, when he chooses to stripe your thighs instead of giving you what you begged for, only makes it hotter.

how your legs twitch when the first hot splash hits, how you bite your lip as you watch him coat your skin. he loves that shaky little gasp you make when it's more than you expected.

thighs are personal - close enough to be intimate, but not where you'd expect. it's a tease, a promise, a reminder that he could have had you anywhere he wanted... but he chose this.

"stay still" - the way his voice drops when he pins your hips down, making sure you take it, that every drop lands exactly where he wants it.

jungwon - face. your lashes flutter, lips part, breath hitches as he stains your face with his release. it's not just about pleasure, it's about worship and debauchery tangled together in the most maddening way.

the way you look up at him - submissive, trusting, wanting - makes his pulse roar. whether your gaze is hazy with pleasure or burning with defiance, the moment his cum streaks across your cheeks, he owns you.

your flushed skin, the heat of your mouth so close, how he stands out stark against you - it's obscene and he can't look away.

holding your chin, tilting your head back just so, watching you let him mark you like this - it's control at its peak. and if you lick your lips after? damn..

"you look perfect like this." - the growl in his voice when he smears a thumb through it, dragging his claim across your cheeks. he wants you to feel it, to remember it.

you blink up at him, sticky and spent, and he kisses you anyway, swallowing your gasp as he tastes himself on your tongue.

ni-ki - mouth. there's nothing more intimately dominant to him than finishing in your mouth - how your lips part for him, the heat of your tongue against him, the surrender in your eyes as you take everything he gives you. it's ownership at it’s peak, the ultimate act of trust between you two.

the way you look up at him, lashes fluttering, as he holds your head in place, knowing you're letting him use your mouth, that you want to swallow every drop. it's the hottest form of surrender he can imagine.

that first pulse against your wet warmth, the way your throat works instinctively to take him deeper. he loses it at the feeling, fingers tightening in your hair as he groans your name.

he should feel bad for how rough he gets, but the choked little noises you make when he pushes too deep? they just make him harder. he loves the mess of it - saliva-slick lips, teary eyes, the obscene drip if he pulls out too fast.

‘’swallow." - the command is guttural, desperate. he needs to watch your throat move as you obey, needs to see proof that you've taken all of him. the way you lick your lips after, still tasting him? fuck.

when he drags you up and licks into your mouth, savoring the bitter tang of himself on your tongue. "good girl."

-

divider credits: cursed-carmine

[lveegsoi]

perv!Jay who likes to make you go in front of him when the two of you go up the stairs. He says it’s because if you trip and fall he’ll be right behind you to catch you, and not because he wants to stare at your ass. If you wear a skirt it’s 100 % guaranteed he’d peek under it to catch a glimpse of the color of your thong, but don’t worry he’d never dare take underskirt photos of you, he’s too scared of the possibility of you accidentally finding them and publicly shaming him. But that doesn’t mean he hadn’t made a ,,list” in his mind, in which he keeps track of the color of your underwear. By far it’s seems that purple has been the color you wear every two days.

Jay doesn’t mind, in fact he likes how purple makes your ass look. Good thing his favorite color is purple, right?

perv!Jay who more than once has touched himself while you were in the shower, oblivious to the fact he was standing behind the slightly ajar door. Most of the time he didn’t mean to peek, but how couldn’t he when you’ve left the door open like an invite. He’d wait a minute after he heard the running water before slowly creeping to the door. With one hand he’d start unbuckling his belt and palming his hard on through his boxers and with the other he’d push the door more to get a more clear sight of your silhouette behind the glass of your shower. It wouldn’t take long for him to cum in his pants, after all the view of you slowly massaging your tits with soup makes his dick twitch. After he’s finished he would close the door, making sure not to do it loudly, then he’d sit and relax on the sofa, scrolling through his phone like nothing has happened.

perv!Jay who would take advantage of the overcrowded bus to get close to you. If your back is turned towards him he’d subtly try to grind his dick against your lower back and if you’re facing him he’d press his chest even closer to you just to feel your tits press against him. His hand would definitely hold your waist for the sake of keeping you ,, sturdy”. One thing Jay can’t make sense out of is why you haven’t call him out of the way his hand doesn’t just stay and your waist but after a bit would wonder lower toward your butt.

perv!Jay who would volunteer to keep your appointment clean when you have to leave town for a few days. Jay has a to do list made for this occasion. Day one- he would clean your whole apartment, leaving no spot uncleaned. Day two- he’d do your laundry if you have one. Lucky for him 9/10 times you do and almost every time he finds a pair of your lace panties. Jay’s body would move like in autopilot. One moment he’s holding your panties in front of the washing machine and the next he’s on your bed, said panties wrapped around his dick as he jerks himself off of the thought of you finding him naked on your bed.

Day three- he would snoop around, trying to find if you’ve hiding anything. Considering you never hide things from him, he almost never finds anything interesting, that’s until he does. Placed between some old boxes in your closet Jay finds the source of his wildest fantasies for the next few months. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing at first. You, who was so innocent, so pure minded has a box filled with sex toys- different types of vibrators, dildos and a pair of hand cuffs could be found in the box. What caught his attention was the Shibari rope sitting at the bottom of the box.

Let’s just say during the next few late night masturbating session he’d fantasize about you using that rope on him and using him however you pleased.

perv!Jay who despite being smart never really noticed that he wasn’t as discreet as he thought he was. You knew Jay was somewhat of a pervert, how couldn’t you. I mean you’ve felt him staring at your ass and tits more time than you can count. At first you didn’t know what to make of it, but the more he stared the more you get flustered. Why hasn’t he made a move one you yet? What was he waiting for? Then the little teasing began : wearing skirts with thongs in his favorite color, leaving the bathroom door open while you were taking a shower, leaving your panties on the top of your laundry for him too see. But even after that he still hadn’t asked you out.

Unbelievable, right?

Likes, comments, reblogs and any kind of feedback are appreciated! Please don’t copy, repost, translate or alter my work.

divider by nchanthings-a

[lveegsoi]

perv!Jay who likes to make you go in front of him when the two of you go up the stairs. He says it’s because if you trip and fall he’ll be right behind you to catch you, and not because he wants to stare at your ass. If you wear a skirt it’s 100 % guaranteed he’d peek under it to catch a glimpse of the color of your thong, but don’t worry he’d never dare take underskirt photos of you, he’s too scared of the possibility of you accidentally finding them and publicly shaming him. But that doesn’t mean he hadn’t made a ,,list” in his mind, in which he keeps track of the color of your underwear. By far it’s seems that purple has been the color you wear every two days.

Jay doesn’t mind, in fact he likes how purple makes your ass look. Good thing his favorite color is purple, right?

perv!Jay who more than once has touched himself while you were in the shower, oblivious to the fact he was standing behind the slightly ajar door. Most of the time he didn’t mean to peek, but how couldn’t he when you’ve left the door open like an invite. He’d wait a minute after he heard the running water before slowly creeping to the door. With one hand he’d start unbuckling his belt and palming his hard on through his boxers and with the other he’d push the door more to get a more clear sight of your silhouette behind the glass of your shower. It wouldn’t take long for him to cum in his pants, after all the view of you slowly massaging your tits with soup makes his dick twitch. After he’s finished he would close the door, making sure not to do it loudly, then he’d sit and relax on the sofa, scrolling through his phone like nothing has happened.

perv!Jay who would take advantage of the overcrowded bus to get close to you. If your back is turned towards him he’d subtly try to grind his dick against your lower back and if you’re facing him he’d press his chest even closer to you just to feel your tits press against him. His hand would definitely hold your waist for the sake of keeping you ,, sturdy”. One thing Jay can’t make sense out of is why you haven’t call him out of the way his hand doesn’t just stay and your waist but after a bit would wonder lower toward your butt.

perv!Jay who would volunteer to keep your appointment clean when you have to leave town for a few days. Jay has a to do list made for this occasion. Day one- he would clean your whole apartment, leaving no spot uncleaned. Day two- he’d do your laundry if you have one. Lucky for him 9/10 times you do and almost every time he finds a pair of your lace panties. Jay’s body would move like in autopilot. One moment he’s holding your panties in front of the washing machine and the next he’s on your bed, said panties wrapped around his dick as he jerks himself off of the thought of you finding him naked on your bed.

Day three- he would snoop around, trying to find if you’ve hiding anything. Considering you never hide things from him, he almost never finds anything interesting, that’s until he does. Placed between some old boxes in your closet Jay finds the source of his wildest fantasies for the next few months. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing at first. You, who was so innocent, so pure minded has a box filled with sex toys- different types of vibrators, dildos and a pair of hand cuffs could be found in the box. What caught his attention was the Shibari rope sitting at the bottom of the box.

Let’s just say during the next few late night masturbating session he’d fantasize about you using that rope on him and using him however you pleased.

perv!Jay who despite being smart never really noticed that he wasn’t as discreet as he thought he was. You knew Jay was somewhat of a pervert, how couldn’t you. I mean you’ve felt him staring at your ass and tits more time than you can count. At first you didn’t know what to make of it, but the more he stared the more you get flustered. Why hasn’t he made a move one you yet? What was he waiting for? Then the little teasing began : wearing skirts with thongs in his favorite color, leaving the bathroom door open while you were taking a shower, leaving your panties on the top of your laundry for him too see. But even after that he still hadn’t asked you out.

Unbelievable, right?

Likes, comments, reblogs and any kind of feedback are appreciated! Please don’t copy, repost, translate or alter my work.

divider by nchanthings-a

[lveegsoi]

🤭

˚୨୧⋆｡ take what i want

₊˚⊹♡𝑑𝑒𝑗𝑎 𝑣𝑢

s. 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑜𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 p.𝑓𝑒𝑚!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑏𝑓!𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑜𝑜 wc. 1.1k w.𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡(18+ 𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖!); 𝑑𝑜𝑚 𝑔𝑓, 𝑠𝑢𝑏 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑜𝑜, 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠, 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 n. 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑒’𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑑, 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒!

sunoo has always been the type of boyfriend to never ask for something when he truly wants it. ever since the two of you have been together, he’s found many ways of beating around the bush about his intimate desires, surpressing them completely, despite the countless amount of times you’ve told him that he should do the exact opposite. it was getting beyond frustrating and the effect this nuiscance had on the sexual side of your relationship was anything but positive.

you knew sunoo wanted you to suck his dick as much as you did yourself, yet he didn’t dare ask. it was beyond your understanding how a person could keep so much built in tension inside of them, when they could just ask for it to be relieved.

this had to change. in fact, it had to change tonight.

the bedroom was dimly lit and warm, your boyfriend laying down on your shared bed, watching something on the television. sunoo’s right arm was positioned right behind his head, resting itself on a pillow, giving the person watching a perfect view of his slightly-flexed biceps. your boyfriend was truly handsome.

he was so invested in what he was watching, that he almost didn’t see you sneaking up to him, intentionally wearing only a t-shirt of his and very revealing underwear. when he finally felt your presence, he gave you a warm smile and a caress on the head, completely clueless about what was about to come his way.

you returned sunoo’s gesture with the same warmth. your fingers cupped his jaw, slightly tugging his face towards yours, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. sunoo returned it with the same pace, only for you to pull away and slowly slide your tongue down to his adam’s apple, circling and pecking around it.

your lips were fire against his skin - searing kisses trailing down the column of his throat, each one leaving behind the ghost of your teeth. he shuddered beneath you, fingers tangling in your hair as you worked your way lower, tongue flicking over the sharp ridge of his collarbone.

"god, you taste good"- you murmured, voice thick with hunger. Your hands slid down sunoo’s chest, nails scraping lightly over his abs before hooking into the waistband of his pants. you looked up at him through wispy lashes, eyes dark with intent.

"take these off, baby. now."

it wasn't a request.

a ragged breath tore from his throat, his expression a mix between confusion, pleasure and resistment. you were almost sure he’d decline, or change the topic, but after a few quiet moments of silence, he obeyed. your eyes were wide with surprise as he lifted his hips, signaling you to yank his pants and boxers down. you did so in one rough pull. the cool air hit his skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of your gaze as you took his already set erection in - hard, aching, leaking for you.

with one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing just enough to drag a groan from his lips, you leaned in, breath hot against the tip. you looked at sunoo as you kissed his length, and he was sweating, literally about to combust. you smirked, then took him into your mouth, not breaking the eye contact, with a slow, filthy slide of your tongue.

sunoo swore, hips jerking as you hollowed her cheeks, sucking him deeper with every pass. your free hand gripped his thigh, nails biting into flesh, keeping him pinned even as he twitched beneath. you set a relentless pace, tongue swirling over the head before sinking down again, taking him to the back of your throat with a muffled moan.

"oh, fuck-"- his voice was wrecked already, fingers tightening in your hair. "please don’t stop, just like that, baby, just-ah-”

you hummed around his dick, the vibration wringing another broken curse from his lips. every flick of your tongue, every drag of your lips was calculated torture, and when you pulled off just to lick a stripe up his length, his entire body tensed.

"look at me" - you demanded, and he obeyed instantly, meeting your gaze as you took him back into your mouth, slow and deliberate. the eye contact was devastating - lips stretched around him, cheeks flushed, eyes burning with the same desperate need coiling in his own gut.

sunoo was shaking, his thighs trembling, grip on your hair turning pleading. you could feel he was close to finishing, but you couldn’t let him do that.

your fingers dug into his hips, nails leaving crescent moons in his skin as you stopped him right at the edge - the warmth of your mouth disappearing into the air, hands on his legs.

"no-" you breathed, voice honey-sweet and venom-sharp -"not yet."

he choked, hips jerking, but you held him there, your upper body a vise, grip unrelenting. tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, frustration and desperation twisting his face into something beautifully broken.

"you-fuck, please -"- his voice cracked, ragged, his hands scrambling in your hair, anywhere, anywhere for leverage. but you were the one in control. you were the one who decided.

you leaned in, lips brushing his ear - "you made me wait"- you murmured, dragging your teeth over his pulse point. "weeks. months. teasing me. letting me taste you just enough to starve me."- your hips rolled, slow, agonizing, and he sobbed. "how does it feel?"

sunoo was trembling, sweat-slick and shaking, his cock twitching uncontrollibly - "i'm so sorry, baby, please-I can't-"

you laughed, low and dark, and went down his body once again in one swift motion, watching him unravel. -"you can. and you will, until I say you're done."

his breath hitched, tears spilling over -"i'll-anything, just let me-"

"beg harder.’’- you demanded.

and he obeyed.

sunoo was so desperate, so needy for the sensation of his cock releasing, that he was begging you for it like a person gone mad. seeing how distressed he had become, you decided to be graceful and grant him the opportunity to do so.

with the same serpent-like movements of your tongue, you sucked him properly one last time, and he became absolutely undone. he was moaning, whining as he finished right in your mouth, his release spilling out of it uncontrollibly. it was so much, that you had to push it back inside multiple times. a single drop could not be wasted.

as your boyfriend calmed down, he smiled at you, making a move to cup your face and pull you towards his lips, giving you a very slow, sensual kiss. you smiled against sunoo and laid beside him. you knew this was exactly what the both of you wanted, and you were happy he finally let you act on your desires.

and it wasn’t going to be the last time you’d act on them either.

-

divider credits: cursed-carmine

[lveegsoi]

—좋아해서 미안, 미안 좋아해서 미안해 맘에 들어 미안, 미안

ೃ⁀➷ ABOUT ME AND RULES

sagittarius INTP 18

This blog has nsfw posts so MDNI

I write for Skz and Enhypen, but I'll probably write for TXT and Ateez in the future

Likes, comments, reblogs and any kind of feedback are appreciated! Please don’t copy, repost, translate or alter my work.

Masterlist under the cut

ೃ⁀➷ STRAY KIDS

: ̗̀➛ tba...

ೃ⁀➷ ENHYPEN

: ̗̀➛ Sunghoon

-° SAVE US 박성훈 °

synopsis.. Being a castaway wasn't that bad, especially when a hot man, straight out of your wettest dream, one day was washed ashore just as you began preparing to leave the island.

: ̗̀➛ Jake

-TEAR IT 심재윤

synopsis.. Wearing a Spiderman bodysuit was probably not your brightest idea, considering your boyfriend's reaction, upon seeing you in it, was like nothing you've never seen before.

-DIRTY!JAKE

: ̗̀➛ Jay

-PERV!JAY

: ̗̀➛ Ni-ki

-VAMPIRE!NI-KI

ೃ⁀➷ TXT

: ̗̀➛ tba...

ೃ⁀➷ ATEEZ

: ̗̀➛ tba...

[lveegsoi]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ enhypen’s favorite positions.

. ׂׂૢ 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟.

ׂ╰┈➤s. 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑠’ 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑥 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 wc.1.1k w. 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 + ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 (18+ 𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖!) n.𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦!

heeseung - mating press. oh, he adores the mating press - like, obsessively. it's heeseung’s go-to position, his absolute favorite, the one thing he’ll never get tired of because it just hits different.

it’s the ultimate intimacy - chest to chest, hips locked together, faces so close you share each and every breath. you can kiss, bite, whisper filth, or just stare into each other’s eyes as he moves, drowning in the intensity.

the angle is chef’s kiss - deep, relentless, no escape. every thrust drags against all the right spots, and the way your body arches beneath him? utmost perfection.

there’s also something about having you pinned, completely at his mercy - it’s a power trip, which makes him reach a state of insanity.

also, the aftercare is immaculate. collapsed together, still joined, catching your breath while trading lazy kisses? godsent.

jay - cowgirl. when he wants control, when he wants to take his pleasure with desperate, bouncing frenzy - cowgirl is his kingdom.

the power dynamic is chef's kiss - gripping your waist and watching you take what you want - it's intoxicating.

chests heaving, hair tousled, that perfect flush spreading down your body as you move? art. absolute art.

slow, sensual rises and falls, then suddenly bouncing hard enough to leave bruises on your thighs. the versatility? unmatched.

his hands are free to wander - gripping hips, thumbing over nipples, pulling them down into a messy kiss - every touch just makes it better.

also - eye contact ruins him. locking gazes while you ride him? that's the kind of intimacy that leaves him trembling.

jake - doggy. oh, he lives for doggy - the raw, unfiltered thrill of it, the way it makes him feel both wild and worshiped at the same time. i's not just a position -it's a vibe, a whole damn experience.

the sight is everything- - he curve of your spine, the way your body moves, the sheer obscenity of or taking what he wants like this.

also that angle? brutal. every thrust hits different, punching out noises he didn't even know you could make. it's the kind of pleasure that borders on too much, and yet he’s always begging for more.

jake has complete control - hands tangled in hair, fingers digging into flesh, setting the pace rough and fast or slow and teasing. and you? totally at his mercy, reduced to whimpers and broken moans. (bonus points if there's a well-placed spank or two)

the pose is dirty talk central. growled praise, hissed curses, the kind of "you take me so fucking good" that leaves the both of you shuddering.

sunghoon - pronebone. he’s obsessed with it - the kind of obsession that makes him melt just thinking about it. it's his secret weapon, his guilty pleasure, the position he always circles back to, because it's just that good.

it's all about the surrender. you - face down, body pressed into the mattress, completely at hoon’s mercy. no distractions, just pure, unfiltered sensation - every thrust hitting deep, every drag of skin on skin pulling moans he didn't even know he had in him.

the angle is sinful. hips tilted just right, leverage perfect for hitting the spot that makes you see stars. and the view? devastating. the curve of your back, the way your fingers claw at the sheets, the desperate little noises muffled into the pillow - it's art.

sometimes he’s too wrecked for eye contact, too far gone for anything but the raw, grinding pleasure. it's the best of both worlds - filthy and possessive, but low-effort enough that the both of you can just take each other when you’re too hungry to bother with finesse.

the aftermath is a mess of shaky limbs and bitten-off laughs. collapsed together, still trembling, trying to remember how to breathe. maybe a lazy hand tracing the marks left on your ass, or a kiss pressed between your shoulder blades.

sunoo - face off.  there’s something about the face-off position that drives him wild - the way you straddle him, thighs gripping his hips, bodies pressed so close the both of you can feel every heartbeat, every shuddering breath. it's raw, it's intimate, and it's his.

there's no hiding here - no buried faces, no turning away. just locked gazes, pupils blown wide with pleasure, watching every flicker of emotion cross each other's face. it's too intense, too vulnerable, and that's exactly why he craves it.

he’s the one beneath - completely at your mercy, forced to take whatever he’s given, hands gripping your thighs for leverage.

every movement hits just right - deep, relentless, with your weight pressing him down in the best way. the friction is maddening, the pressure unbearable, and neither of you would change a thing.

jungwon - reverse scoop. there’s something delicious about the reverse scoop -the way he folds you over, chest pressed flush against your back, hips cradled tight in his grasp. it’s possessive, it’s deep, and it’s inescapable.

he can set a brutal pace, grind slow and filthy, or pin you down with an arm hooked under your thighs, forcing you to take every inch. there's no leverage, no wiggle room - just pure, helpless surrender.

chest to back, lips on the nape of your neck, hands gripping wherever they can reach - it's overwhelming in the best way. the heat, the sweat, the way your breath hitches when he bites your shoulder? chef's kiss.

with his mouth right by your ear, he can murmur exactly what he’s going to do - or how good you feel, how tight, how his. either way, it's game over.

when he finally snaps, it's with his teeth sinked into your shoulder, hands bruising your hips, pressing you down into the mattress as he rides out the high.

ni-ki - spork. that tangled, half-folded, limbs-everywhere way of fucking isn't graceful, but that's why he loves it. it's desperate, uncoordinated, and so good he can't think straight.

one leg hooked over a shoulder, the other trapped between your bodies, back arched at a ridiculous angle - nothing about this is practical, but the way it makes you gasp? worth it.

somehow, this jumble of limbs lets him sink deeper than should be physically possible. every thrust punches the air from your lungs, and the choked-out moans it pulls from you? art.

the angle hits so good that neither of you can keep it together - breathy curses, bitten-off pleas, the wet slap of skin echoing between the both of you. it's filthy in the best way.

even in this mess you lock eyes - half-lidded, dazed, watching each other come undone. it's too intimate, too raw, and it ruins you every time.

the collapse is truly inevitable - muscles give out, you slide into a heap, still panting and laughing breathlessly. it's not elegant, but who cares when the aftershocks are that good?

-

divider credits: cursed-carmine

[lveegsoi]

girl dinner 🍽️

────୨ৎ munch riki.

·˚ ༘ 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑌𝑂𝑈.

ׂ╰┈➤ s. 𝑟𝑖𝑘𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑢𝑠𝑠𝑦 wc. 505. w. 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 + ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 (18+ 𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖!) n.𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦..

munch!riki.. who doesn't just eat pussy; he treats it like a sacred decadent ritual. He'll spend hours between your thighs if you let him, mapping every gasp, every little twitch, every choked-off whimper like he's studying for a choreography he's desperate to ace. His tongue moves lazy and deliberate, savoring the way you clench around nothing, how your hips stutter when he hums against you. He loves when you beg him to hurry up, just so he can give you one of his diabolical smirks and murmur:

’’But I'm not done tasting you yet."

munch!riki.. who the more you unravel, the more feral he becomes. He'll pin your thighs apart with bruising grip, watching your face as you sob from overstimulation, his lips glistening with your arousal. And when you try to squirm away, oversensitive and shaking? That's when he drags you back, growling:

"You're not going anywhere, sweetheart. I decide when you're done."

munch!riki.. who brushes his thumb over your bottom lip at dinner. Silent whispers, such as "I can still taste you" while you're trying to focus on things, which require your immediate attention. Lingering eye contact as he slowly licks syrup off his ring-covered fingers at breakfast. He lives for the way your breath hitches, how your cheeks flush - knowing you're replaying every filthy thing he's done to your cunt.

munch!riki.. who fingers you with his chrome hearts rings on, the cold metal contrasting deliciously against the heat of his tongue and the wetness of your pussy. He takes his time, letting your arousal paint the intricate designs of the rings - sharp edges and engraved details - while they drag teasingly over your folds before pressing inside. The weight of the jewelry adds just enough pressure, amplifying every sensation as his fingers curl just right.

Sometimes, he’ll twist a ring slightly, letting the band catch on you in the most maddening way, just to hear you whimper his name. And when he pulls out, the glint of silver against slick fingers is a filthy reminder of how thoroughly he’s marked you - even without leaving bruises.

munch!riki.. who adores turning you into a needy, pleading wreck. He’ll lay you out, spread you wide, and then just… watch. The man will trail his fingers along your inner thighs, kiss everywhere but where you want him, until you're arching off the bed, whining his name. And when you finally break, he'll reward you with a filthy grin and a slow, open-mouthed lick that has you seeing whole galaxies.

munch!riki..who will bury his desperate face in your panties just to inhale deeply, groaning like an addict. If you've been out all day, he'll push you against the door the second you get home, rutting against your thigh, while he mouths at your neck, muttering:

"Fuck, you smell so good - need to get my mouth on you, now."

And if you tease him? If you shift just right so your scent hits him? He'll snap, flipping you onto your backside with a snarl.

[lveegsoi]

a fellow stayengene ?! 🤯 knew i had to follow back bc its so rare seeing us on herefjdhhsj

tnaks for the follow 🩷 and i just want to say that i LOVE you works, especially your last fic 🫶

[lveegsoi]

Hg has blessed us again 🙏🗣️

sunghoon and the nape of your neck

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

• 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - sunghoon can barely keep his fangs to himself

• 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - human fem!reader x vampire!sunghoon

• 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 508

• 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none

• 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - hi freaksters, sorry for disappearing for such a long time.. now treat urselves with some sungGOON content :*

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆.

The night pressed close around you and Sunghoon, thick with the weight of something unspoken, shown only by the cracks of your deepest desires. The rain whispered quietly against the windows of your home, a hush that only deepened the unbearable tension between two still bodies and one trembling breath.

You stood before him, unaware of the way your very being ignited something ancient in his blood. Or perhaps you were – and that was somehow worse.

The hair spilling on your shoulders was pulled to one side by Sunghoon’s cold hands, exposing the nape of your neck like an open wound, bare and soft to the touch. His fingers brushed the porcelain-like surface, the touch featherlight, yet chilling, forcing a sharp inhale from your lungs. Hoon stepped closer to you, his broad chest almost against your back now, breath cool as it met your skin. He tilted his head, the tip of his nose grazing just beneath your ear, where warmth pulsed and begged. Your body stiffened – not in fear, never in fear – but in anticipation.

Sunghoon’s lips parted, and you could feel the faintest drag of his sharp fangs against the goosebumps of your neck. Not piercing, not even pressing – just there, aching with the promise of something he could never allow himself to do. His breath shuddered, exhaling words he didn’t dare to speak out loud.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” - he whispered, so low, so quietly, you weren’t sure if he actually uttered those words into existence.

You turned your head ever so slightly, only enough for your cheek to meet his, a tender and electrifying touch all at once.

“Yes'' - you replied- ''that is precisely why I’m too afraid to move.”

Sunghoon’s hand came up and slid along the side of your arm until it reached your wrist. His grip was gentle, trembling, but firm enough to feel the pulse beneath his thumb. A truly maddening rhythm, so alive it echoed in his own undead silence.

And then, suddenly, his lips found the nape of your neck.

He didn’t bite. He didn’t need to. The touch alone was ruinous.

He kissed the spot once, then again, much slower this time – with utmost reverence, with restraint that fractured with each second that passed by. Hoon’s fangs grazed your skin now, faint and fleeting, dancing on the edge of destruction. One wrong movement and he would lose himself. Just a single pleading sigh from you and he would sink into your skin like dusk into the horizon.

But he didn’t.

He pressed his forehead to your neck, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, every muscle straining against the urge to consume. And you – foolish, yet brave – reached back, fingers slipping into Sunghoon’s hair, grounding him.

“Don’t stop.” - you whispered.

A curse in disguise.

He didn’t. He couldn’t. But still, he didn’t bite.

Because wanting you this much and not taking you was the only way he knew he still had a soul.

[lveegsoi]

dirty jake was so NASTYYYY i LOVE ittt

THANK YOU !! 🫶🫶 I’m glad you liked it!

[lveegsoi]

dirty!Jake, who doesn't put a towel under you when he fucks you because he likes to admire the mess you have made, after he is done with you. The big dark wet spot from your cum and squirt makes his ego even bigger than before. You’re just laying on the bed, barely keeping your eyes open after cumming hard 4 times, and Jake is just sitting between your legs, looking at you with such kind eyes, but the second they land on the cum slowly gushing out of your pussy, his whole demeanor changes.

“ Look at the mess you have made, love.” he would say, running his finger between your folds to gather some of the cum that has already made a white sticky spot on the already wet sheet. " Who would've known you’re such a dirty girl?"

dirty!Jake, who loves receiving sloppy head from you. I’m not talking about head, where you spit a little bit on his dick and carelessly suck him off. No, I’m talking about Jake just laying on the bed while you have his dick deep down your throat, spit covering his whole dick down to his balls and lower stomach. Your whole face is a mess. Mixture of spit and pre-cum is covering the lower part of it. You know Jake goes feral when you stop sucking him off right before he cums, only to continue stroking him until he releases his hot sticky cum right on your face.

“ F-fuck, baby.” He moans, as you slowly bring your face to his. “ You look so hot. Let me clean you up, yeah? You did a great job, baby.”

8/10 times giving Jake head ends up with a heavy make out session, during which he cleans you up.

dirty!Jake, who loves stuffing your puffy little cunt with his cum. He’s not even keen on breeding you, he just loves seeing you squirm as his first, then second, then third load shoots inside you. Most of the time he would fuck you from behind, just to watch his cum smear his ball and your ass as he thrust into you. With every thrust more and more of his cum starts to leak from your cunt, creating a sticky mess between the two of you.

“Oh , fuck I love you so much. Fuck, you’ll let me fill you up, right love? Just look how much I’ve already made you take, I know you can take more, just relax and let me fill you up ‘till there is no more space for more.”

dirty!Jake , who can’t rely only on his cum alone to make a mess out of you. Every two weeks he buys a big bottle of fake cum lube, not to use it to slide easily inside of you ( you’re always so wet he doesn’t even need lube), but to smear it across you body as he fucks you in missionary. After making you cum at least one time with his tongue or fingers, he would reach in the left nightstand drawer to get the lube. Usually makes you cover yourself up with it, because he can’t wait to put his dick inside of you, but the rare times he’s patient enough he’ll genuinely squeeze the lube from the tube right on your tits and he’ll gently start to smear the fake cum all over them while slowly entering you.

“ You have no idea what you do to me.” Jake would say as he slowly starts to rock his hips into yours. “ Fuck, love, your tits looks so good… “

Let’s just say, dirty!Jake loves to cover you in cum, doesn’t matter if it’s his own or the fake he buys every two weeks.

dirty!Jake , who when you decide to wear a skirt will most definitely demand a pussy job before the two of you go out. Both of you are standing in front of the door ready to head out, when he pulls you by the waist. “ Now, aren’t you forgetting something?” As soon as the words left his mouth, your skirt is hiked up around your waist and your panties are pulled slightly down. Jake would position himself behind you, dick already hard. He wouldn’t last long, especially when your puffy lips are grinding back and forth on his dick. He’d cum on your panties, making them wet and sticky, and he’d slowly put them back on you.

“ All good now, love. You remember what we agreed to right? Let’s see if you’ll be able to keep my cum in your panties ‘till we come back. You know what they say, good girls get rewarded.”

Likes, comments, reblogs and any kind of feedback are appreciated! Please don’t copy, repost, translate or alter my work.

[lveegsoi]

TEAR IT 심재윤

pairing.. bf!sim jaeyun x f!reader

synopsis.. Wearing a Spiderman bodysuit was probably not your brightest idea, considering your boyfriend's reaction, upon seeing you in it, was like nothing you've never seen before.

tags/warnings.. smut 18+, mdni, not proofread, oral (m! and f! receiving), deepthroat, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, backshots, slight choking kink, suggestive anal play?

wc.. 1.8k ( kind of rushed)

a/n.. English isn't my native language so let me know if there are any mistakes. Enjoy reading!

divider by @adornedwithlight

Since Jake took you to see the new Spider-man movie you’ve been obsessed with it. That’s how you found yourself in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, wearing a black Spider-man bodysuit, that you ordered the minute you stepped out of the cinema. 

The fabric hugged your body like a second skin, accentuating your curves. Your waist appeared slimmer, your thighs softer, your breasts rounder and your ass looked juicy. ‘’God, Jake will lose his mind when he sees me.’’ You thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You were so in thought, that you didn’t hear the door open

 Jake, your boyfriend for almost two years, walked quietly in the bedroom and his eyes immediately gazed upon your figure. 

‘’What are you wearing.’’ His voice startled you, turning around you saw him standing near the door, leaning on the doorframe. ‘’Jake, you’re back home early.’’ You felt your cheeks flush. You’ve never seen him look at you that way. Jake pushed himself off the doorframe and made his way towards you. With every step he made towards you, you made one back until your back hit the wall. 

‘’You still haven’t answered my question, love.’’Jake’s voice was low, almost a growl, as he closed the distance between you. His eyes never left yours and the intense eye contact was making you nervous. Your breath hitched as he finally stopped just centimeters away, his chest nearly brushing against yours. 

“I just thought it would be fun,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. ’’You know I’ve been obsessed with Spiderman, and I thought you also would like to see me in it.’’ As you continued to explain yourself, he brought his hand and placed it gently on your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your knees weaken.

“Fun?” he repeated, his voice laced with amusement and something darker, something more feral. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and you bit it, earning a low groan from him. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”

You swallowed hard as his other hand found your waist, pulling you even closer.“Jake…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You look…” he started saying, his eyes roaming over you again, “incredible. Hot. Sexy. But you knew what this suit would do to me, didn't you?” 

You nodded, unable to form words as he leaned closer and his lips brushed against your ear. “You’re playing dirty, love,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “And you should take responsibility for this.” As soon the words left his mouth he grabbed your hand and placed it on the noticeable bulge on his pants.

Before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours in a heated kiss. It was hungry, desperate, and full of pent-up desire. He kissed you like there was no tomorrow. Throughout the kiss you palmed him through the material of his pants, in response he moaned in your mouth.

The thing you love about Jake, is that he is vocal during sex, it currently boosts your ego, when he whimpers, groans or moans.   Your other hand instinctively flew to his shoulder, gripping it  tightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. The world around you faded away, and all you could focus on was the way his body felt against yours, the way his hands roamed over you, claiming every inch.

Jake broke the kiss just to start placing kisses down your neck, as you continue to rub his dick.’’ You’re driving me crazy.’’ His words went straight to your core, you couldn’t believe how wet you were by mere make out with your boyfriend. Jake grabbed you by the waist and moved you in front of the bed. 

You sat on the edge of the bed as he slowly started unbuckling his belt. ‘’ Lay down and place your head on the end of the bed.’’ Doing as he said you laid on the bed with your head hanging from the edge of it, right in front of Jake. 

‘’ Now you’re going to be a sweet girl and let me fuck your face, yeah?’’ The speed with which you nodded should’ve embarrassed you, but you were far beyond shame.You watched as Jake pulled his pants and boxers down and got rid of the shirt he was wearing. His dick was harder than ever, you guessed it, he really liked the bodysuit. You parted your lips, when you felt his tip on them. It was your first time taking him upside down. 

The feeling of his dick  down your throat was amazing. He put his hand around your throat as he began moving his hips. His groans became louder as he increased the speed of his thrusts. 

You were so focused trying not to gag, as the tip of his penis hit the back of your throat, that you almost missed what Jake said between moans.

‘’Fuck, you aren’t wearing underwear under the suit, are you? God, baby, I can see your nipples poking through it, and the wet spot between your legs. Is me fucking your face turning you on, love?’’

Him using your mouth however he liked really turned you on, and yes you weren’t wearing panties nor a bra under the suit. Your nipples were hard and every time Jake slammed his hips towards your face, they rubbed against the thin material of the bodysuit. 

You moaned around him, which caused him to twitch inside your mouth. He fucked your face like it was his personal fleshlight, much like the one you found in his night table at the beginning  of your relationship.

Jake was close, you could tell by the way he clenched his jaw and the grip on your throat tightened. Before you can hollow your cheeks around his dick, he pulled out from your mouth with a loud pop sound. 

‘’Not yet. I want to cum inside, but first let me taste you. I’m surprised you haven’t touched yourself yet.’’ 

Helping you lay comfortable on the bed he positioned himself between your legs. The wet spot, made by your juices leaking from your pussy, was very noticeable. You could feel the tender kisses Jake placed at your tummy, down your hips and your inner thighs. Your breath hitched when he placed a kiss to your cunt, the material of the bodysuit was thin, so you could feel his soft lips.

Soft whimpers left your mouth as he continued to make out with your cunt. Suddenly you heard the sound of clothes ripping. Jake had torn the bodysuit where your cunt was, leaving a big hole-an easy access to your sweet pussy. 

‘’I love you in this little costume of yours, baby, but I can’t hold it anymore. I want to feel you cum around my tongue. Can you do that for me?” You’ve never seen this side of your boyfriend. The way he was talking to you and touching you was more possessive than before. It was like he was trying to show you that you were his and he was yours.

Jake put his tongue on your clit and began licking it slowly in a circle. You could swear you saw stars in your vision and you couldn’t help but loudly moan as you felt him inserting two of his fingers inside you.

‘’Oh Jake, yes please don’t stop.’’ You gasped, hips grinding against his face. He groaned, grinding against the mattress, searching for some kind of relief. The sight of him, so consumed with devouring you, made the knot in your stomach tighten.

Not long after that, your body trembled beneath him, pleasure consuming you as his name spilled from your lips like a prayer.

You came hard, juices leaking from you, soaking Jake’s face and the blue sheets under you. ‘’You look so beautiful when you cum.’’ Jake placed his hands on your waist and turned you around.

‘’Now let’s go to the fun part, yeah?’’ His hand went between your legs and tore more of the fabric, making the hole of the bodysuit bigger. ‘’Ass up, love.’’ Doing as you were told you raised your ass up and arched your back.  Jake had already placed himself on his knees right behind you, so it wasn’t a surprise when your ass grinded against his hard, leaking cock. His hands were on your ass in seconds.

‘’Your ass looks good,baby. You would let me fuck your ass some day, right love?’’

Ignoring his question, you turned your head sideways and locked your eyes with his. 

‘’Please, Jake,’’ a loud moan, mixed with pain and pleasure, left your mouth as Jake slapped your ass. ‘’ please, fuck me already.’’ 

‘’How can I not fuck that small, tight pussy of yours when you asked so nicely.’’ His voice was laced with mockery. Slowly he dragged his tip between your ass cheeks, teasing the rim of your ass hole before he positioned it at the opening of your cunt. Both of you moaned as he started pushing himself inside you.

You took him deeper and deeper until he was all the way in. Jake didn’t dare move. He knew you needed a few minutes to adjust to his size before he started rearranging your guts. Squeezing him three times was the signal he needed before he started to move his hips. 

You loved getting fucked from behind. This way you could feel him deeper in your gut, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix with every thrust of his hips. He grabbed your hips when he began thrusting inside you faster and harder than before. 

‘’I can feel you squeezing me more, fuck, you're close, aren’t you?’’

‘’Y-yes… shit don’t stop.’’ 

After a few thrust you came hard, and a few thrust after that Jake did as well. The mixer of your and his release dripped down your legs and onto the sheets as Jake continued to fuck you through your and his orgasm. 

You hissed when he pulled out of you and collapsed beside you. Both of you were still catching your breaths and you still could feel his cum dripping out of you when he turned around to face you.

‘’So round two?”

Please don’t copy, repost, translate or alter my work.

[lveegsoi]

° SAVE US 박성훈 °

pairing.. castaway!Park Sunghoon x f!castaway!reader

synopsis.. Being a castaway wasn't that bad, especially when a hot man, straight out of your wettest dream, one day was washed ashore just as you began preparing to leave the island.

tags/warnings.. smut 18+, mdni, not proof read, piv sex, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it), oral(f! receiving), griding, cum eating, hair puling, nipple play, squirting, make out, pet names

wc.. 3.6k

a/n.. English isn't my native language so let me know if there are any mistakes. Enjoy reading! Likes, comments, reblogs and any kind of feedback are appreciated!

divider by @strangergraphics

30 days. 30 days on this uninhabited island. No internet connection, no running water and no animals. You don’t know how long you can keep trying to survive on this godforsaken island. One moment you were peacefully sunbathing on your small, but cozy boat in the middle of the ocean and the next big waves were rocking your boat left to right. 

You don't remember how but you found yourself on the coast of an island, your boat half destroyed. At first, you couldn’t believe you were even alive and then the realization sank in: you were alone on a fucking island and no one knew where you were. Not many people would have cared, back home you didn’t have friends, even your neighbors didn’t know who you were. 

You lived the perfect life if you say so yourself. No noisy neighbors, trying to get in your business, a relatively easy job that pays the rent, or unnecessary drama in your life. Yeah, sometimes it gets lonely and depressing, watching people your age go out and have fun with their friends, but it was what it was. You tried not to let the upsetting thoughts go to your head and aimed to live your life happily.

Of course, the universe had to mess with your life. You don’t know what you did to deserve this. Did you unknowingly harm somebody or did you unintentionally commit arson? The answer is no, so why are you on a desert island in the middle of nowhere desperately trying to break a coconut for 20 minutes?

The first few days on the island were hard. Thankfully, a small part of the boat was intact, providing some shelter. Most of your provisions were safe too, so you had soap, toothpaste, menstrual products, food and water. You managed to find some of your clothes floating in the shallow parts of the water. Surviving was hard, but you held onto the hope that you would find a way back home.

Your mission for today was to find more fruits, as your food stash was running low. You decided to explore the other side of the island. From the observations you made during your stay here, the island had two shores: the one that you woke up on and another just 15 km from the first one. Since the journey was long, you decided to set off as soon as you woke up. Gathering some food, water and a bag you made from leaves on your second week here ( you don’t know how it lasted for so long) you began to make your way through the dense forest. After around 4 agonizing hours you reached the other shore. Your bag was half full and your water container was half empty. 

The sun was brighter than ever and the beach was beautiful. The water was so clear you can see the small fish swimming, and the sand was gold and soft. There were a few crabs on the nearby rocks and a man lying on his belly on the soft sand. Wait what? A man. There is a man! Was your brain playing some tricks or was there really a man? Slowly you approached the stranger. 

‘’ Ummm, can you hear me?” You asked. What a dumb question, of course, he can’t hear you he is probably unconscious. You thought. As carefully as possible you turned the stranger onto his back to get a better look at him. He appeared to be around your age, maybe a few years older, with black hair, reaching his thick eyebrows, a slender nose and full lips. He had two moles-one on his nose and one on his cheek. His outfit was simple, a white top and black swimming trunks. He was handsome, you can’t lie, but you have to be careful. You don’t know him. Was he like any other man? Could he hurt you, or was he a good person?

You tried waking him up by shaking him. At first, he didn’t budge but after 10 minutes of constant shaking, he started waking up. “W-what” He mumbled. Slowly he opened his eyes and sat up. Holding his head the handsome stranger looked around and cursed under his breath. “Who are you? Where am I” He questioned looking you up and down. You began to feel self-conscious. “ I don’t know where exactly we are, but I’d say we are in the middle of nowhere. What was the last thing you remember?’’

“ I was on my boat, planning what to eat for dinner when the storm came. Shit, I think my boat was destroyed”

“ Are you hurt?” You asked, hoping he isn’t seriously injured. I can’t have this sexy man dying on me, now can I?

“ I don’t think I am. I’m Sunghoon by the way.”

You introduced yourself and Sunghoon said your name quietly under his breath and the way he said it shouldn’t make you feel this way. The next thing that left your mouth was probably the stupidest thing you have ever offered. “ I have a camp on the other side of the island. If you want you can go with me. Of course, I’ll understand if you want to be alone, I mean you don’t know me, but I think we have a better chance of getting out of here if we stick together” You don’t know why you made that offer. There is a possibility that he’ll take advantage of you. Take your provisions and leave you here, after stealing the makeshift raft, you began to make a week ago. But there is also a chance of you working together and getting faster back home. Plus you will have someone to talk to.

He doesn’t answer right away. “ I think that would be a good idea. How far is your camp?”

“ It’s a 4-hour walk from here, if we’re lucky we could arrive there before it gets dark.” Reaching in your makeshift bag you pulled a few berries you picked on your way here. Opening your water container you extended them towards him.

“ Here. You’re probably hungry and thirsty. Take this it’s not much but it will fill you up until we go to the camp”

“Thanks, I don’t know how to repay you. Here let me carry this for you.” Sunghoon grabbed your bag and began heading towards the forest. “ Come on, the faster we walk the better”

As you gaze at him, you hope you chose wisely.

The two of you made the walk in just 3 hours. During these 3 hours, you learned a few things about each other. Sunghoon is a 22-year-old man working as a figure skating instructor, teaching a small group of children the basics of ice skating. Currently, he is living with his two best friends, Jay and Jake, who seem to be great guys, judging by the stories Sunghoon has shared. 

Your little camp isn’t the best-looking one. On the right side, the remains of your boat make a tent-like shelter that is quite big enough for the two of you. A small bonfire pit is located at the bottom of your sleeping space and a big SOS sign made of thick wood sticks can be seen on the left side of the beach. 

Sitting near the bonfire pit, you began trying to start a fire. The sun was setting and if during the day the temperature is around 33°C, then during the night the temperature drops to around 15 °C. With only shorts, bikini tops and short tops, the fire was your only source of heat.

'' Is that what I think it is?'' Sunghoon’s voice broke the silence just as you started the fire. You followed his gaze to the half-built raft under the palm tree. It was made of driftwood lashed together with vines. 

“Yeah,” you replied, brushing your hands off on your shorts. “I started it a week ago. Figured it might be my best shot at getting off this dumb island.”

Sunghoon ran his fingers along the uneven edges of the wood, testing the strength of the vines. “It’s not bad,” he said, glancing back at you. “But it’s not going to hold up in the ocean. Not like this. The vines will not hold and the layer of wood is too thin.” You sighed,as you made your way towards him by the raft. “I know. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make it sturdier, but I don’t exactly have the strength to carry thicker logs. Good thing I have you now, yeah?’’

He smiled at you. His smile was the most beautiful thing you have laid your eyes on. “You really think we can do it? Build something that’ll actually get us out of here?” Sunghoon stood, brushing sand off his knees. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But sitting around waiting for a miracle isn’t going to get us anywhere. At least this gives us something to focus on.” He nodded, feeling a small spark of determination. “Alright. Where do we start?”

Over the next few days, the raft became your shared project. You scavenged more wood from the forest, carefully selecting pieces that were straight, thick and sturdy. Sunghoon suggested using strips of fabric from your clothes to add with the vines, so you spent hours weaving them together while Sunghoon did most of the lifting. Sacrificing your only clothes meant that now your options of outfits were narrowed down to wearing only a bikini and sometimes bikini tops and your only pair of shorts.

Sunghoon was shirtless most of the time, especially as he worked on the raft, and he put on his top during the night. You can’t complain much. Watching a sexy shirtless  guy while you sit on the sand all day was the highlight of your time spent here. And you can say that you weren’t the only one enjoying this. You’ve seen the way he looks at you, when he thinks you aren’t watching. Hell the first time he saw you in a bikini he couldn’t stop staring at your boobs. The thought of him finding you attractive gives some more confidence when talking with him.

As you worked, you talked. Sunghoon told you about his life as a figure skating instructor, how he’d started skating as a kid to impress a girl he liked, which you found quite funny “Spoiler alert, it didn’t work,” he said with a laugh. “But I fell in love with the ice anyway.”

You shared some of your stories too—about your quiet life back home, the nights you spent wondering if there was more to life than just existing. “I guess the universe decided to give me an opportunity of some sort.” you joked, though the words felt heavier than you intended.,, Anyway, is someone special waiting for you to come back, a handsome guy like you certainly has girls throwing themselves at you wherever you go’’

Sunghoon’s smile dropped a little and you began regretting asking him. ,, I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment.There was someone I loved, but things didn’t work at the end’’ There was  silence for a few minutes, when he decided to talk again. ,, Am happy one at least, it’s been almost half a year since then and during those months I tried healing. That was the reason why I decided to go on a little 2 week sea adventure. I didn't expect to end up here, but I can’t go and change the past, now can I?’’ Lifting his head and turning towards you he asked. ,, What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?’’

,, That’s quite embarrassing ,but I’ve never had a real boyfriend. Sure, I messed around a bit, there aren’t many guys in my town that are ,,boyfriend material’’, you know. And if there are, they’re taken, so If we get out of here I would be returning to an empty apartment full of eviction notes, because i haven’t paid my rent”

The atmosphere has shifted. The two of you sat in silence until Sunghoon stood up and said. ,, I think that was enough for today, let’s go to sleep’’ 

A week and a half later your ticket back home was completed. The raft was a rough, sturdy structure made of driftwood tied together with vines and reinforced with fabric strips from your clothes. It was bigger than a king sized bed with enough space for the two of you. In the middle of it Sunghoon tried to make a hole for your provision, that would last you at least for 2 weeks. The raft didn’t have a mast, but you will use wooden sticks that were long and thick enough to use as paddles. 

You were sitting on the leaves, on which you sleep, when Sunghoon approached you and sat beside you. “I can’t believe tomorrow we’ll have a chance to return home. When we make it home alive, promise me that we will stay in touch. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I feel close to you and I’ll hate it if we don’t continue to see one another.’’

Looking in his eyes, you can see that he’s serious. You were glad he had felt the same. During those weeks you developed feelings for him and you prayed for your safe return. If he wants to continue to talk to you, it means he at least sees you as a friend, right? But you’ve seen the looks he gave you when he thinks you aren’t watching.

He wasn’t sleek. He was basically eye-fucking you. Sunghoon liked to stare, it didn't matter at what. You’ve caught him staring 2 times at your tits, 4 at your ass, 3 at the small heart tattoo below your belly button and 6 times at your lips. But it wasn’t as if you didn’t stare at him too. Sunghoon knew what he was doing when he bends his ass in front of you, or flexes his muscles when he’s shirtless.

The sexual tension could be felt in the air. Turning towards him you smiled and answered. “Of course I would love to keep in touch. I should thank you. Without you I don’t think I would have managed to build the raft’’ 

You saw him glance at your lips. You sat in silence as he began slowly to lean into you. You locked your eyes with his as you too began slowly to lean. Your lips were centimeters away.

“Can I kiss you?’’ Sunghoon whispered and you nodded your head. He placed his hand on your cheek as he said.”I want to hear you say it. Say you want to kiss me.”

“Kiss me Sunghoon.” As soon as you mutter the words his lips were on yours. 

He kissed you like there was no tomorrow. His lips were soft and they tasted like the berries he had for breakfast. The kiss had deepened. One of his hands was on your cheek and the other was gripping your hips as he pulled you in his lap. You sat on his lap and put your hands around his neck.

Sunghoon moaned. Grabbing your hips he began moving them slowly against his bulge. You could feel him through the material of your short and he was huge. His dick was above average and thick. Is this even gonna fit inside you? The two of you could kiss forever, but you needed air. As you broke the kiss a string of saliva was connecting your lips. 

“More. I need more.” Sunghoon whimpered. Fuck that was the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. He crashed his lips with yours again. This time the kiss was hungrier, you tugged on the hair on the back of his head, causing him to moan in your mouth. You used the opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth. While making out with you he slowly laid back, this move of his made you lay entirely on him. This new angle allowed you to feel him more. It was unbelievable how wet you were right now. Slowly you moved your hips along the outline of his dick. The material of his swimming trunks was thin, which allowed him to feel you clench around nothing. 

‘’Fuck you feel so good.’’ In one motion he flipped you on your back and began placing kisses on your jaw down towards your neck.’’ Let me taste you, love.’’ Sunghoon begged. You moaned at the image of him between your legs. Your thoughts were interrupted by Sunghoon, who pulled your bikini top down, exposing your breasts. He began palming one as he tilted his head down to put the other one in his mouth. ‘’ I didn’t hear an answer to my question, love. Will you let me taste you and make you feel as you have never felt before?” He asked again as you grinded against his leg, that was placed between your legs.

‘’ Yes, yes!’’ You exclaimed when you felt Sunghoon place your left nipple between his teeth. Your other nipple was being twisted between his thumb and point finger. The moment he heard you say yes, he began to make his way down, while placing tender kisses on your breast down towards your stomach and he stopped right above the hem of your shorts. He unzipped them with his teeth and quickly, along with your bikini, he pulled them down your legs. You felt him staring and before you could scold him, he placed a kiss on your clit. 

You’ve never received head. The guys you’ve slept with thought that  making you cum with their mouths was pointless. The fact that Sunghoon was eating you out like a starved man made you so turned on. You could crush his head with your thighs and he’ll thank you. The man was so whipped for you. 

You grabbed his head and tugged on his hair when you felt your orgasm approaching. ‘’Just like that Hoonie. Please don’t stop.’’ You couldn't help but whimper as his tongue flicked just the right spot. 

‘’Cum for me baby.’’ Sunghoon said as he placed his finger inside you. That was your breaking point. You tilted your head back, your vision turned black as you felt clear liquid come out of you. Fuck, he made you squirt. After a minute to catch your breath you looked at him. The bottom part of his face was drenched in your juices. He looked you in the eyes as he slowly ran his tongue along his lips. ’’I was right, you taste magnificent. So sweet, love.’’ 

Sunghoon was still hard and leaking. He quickly got rid of his trucks and stood naked before you. You couldn’t believe a man this beautiful existed. He slowly put himself on top of you. Your breasts were flush against his chest, the tip of his dick teasingly near your entrance. ‘’You have no idea what you do to me.’’ Sunghoon said between kisses.’’ ‘’Just fuck me Sunghoon.’’ You felt that you would die if he didn’t put his dick inside you. He laughed under his breath and said. ‘’As you wish love.’’ 

He slowly pushed himself inside you. The stretch was painful at first, but as he let you adjust to his size, it began to feel so good. ‘’ You are taking me so good.’’ He said as he began moving his hips. You couldn’t help but moan in his ear. You threw your legs around his waist and the new angle made you feel him deeper than before. Sunghoon was loud and you were glad. His moans and whimpers, right beside your ear, made you clench around him. ‘’ Ugh, you feel so good baby, I think I’m close.’’

‘’Me too. Please don’t stop,fuck me harder.’’

Sunghoon listened to your pleads and began thrusting his hips harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the place around the two of you. Not long after that you felt your release. Screaming his name you came around his dick. Sunghoon continued fucking you through your orgasm. He pulled out and his cum landed on just below your belly button, slowly making its way down your pussy. 

‘’Beautiful.’’ He gazed at your naked body, spread out on the makeshift bed the two of you shared. You ran your finger through his cum and you gathered some in your fingers. Locking eyes with Sunghoon you placed your fingers in your mouth slowly sucking on them as the flavour of his cum hit your taste buds. ‘’ You taste good too, Sunghoon.’’ The look on his face was priceless.

‘’Don’t do this to me, love. We will be up all night if you continue doing this to me.’’ Standing up he held his arm out to you. ‘’Let’s clean up and go to sleep, we have to have energy for tomorrow.’’ 

‘’I still can’t believe tomorrow we’ll leave this island forever.’’

‘’Me too. But I’m kinda glad I ended up here. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you. When we return home safely, let me take you out on a date. What do you think.’’ 

,,Then let’s make it back home. I can’t wait for our date.”

Please don’t copy, repost, translate or alter my work.