I FEEL LIKE I'M MISSING SOMETHING \ i feel like I'm lost in consciousness and dreams \ so sweet in this thick fog \ a dream of walking constantly \ don't have any clue on the direction
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
➜ summary: you just moved into a new building, right across from three loud guys. two said sorry and the third couldn’t care less.
pairing: pshx f!reader,wc: 14k words , genre: enemies to lovers ish, neighbor!au, fluff, romcom w: rude jokes, cussing, kissing
The elevator doors swung open, and soon you stepped out into the third floor hallway. You looked like you were moving in, which in your defense…you were. The oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder, arms hugging a stack of takeout containers and a cactus you had that had pricked you far too many times, but that didn’t matter. You were finally on your own.
Unit 3B. That was you now.
Your keys jingled in your palm as you found the door, nudged it open with one knee, and stepped into the apartment you’d stared at for months on rental listings. It wasn’t huge, but it had a little kitchen with enough space for your mum’s rice cooker, and a balcony that caught the sun in the morning. You spun around in the centre of the room, grinning, almost knocking the cactus you had just placed on the counter in the process.
And by nightfall, the place felt like yours. Your fairy lights were strung up across your living room. Your fridge held exactly a bottle of soda, some tuna you had eaten an hour ago and a bag of unwashed grapes. You lit a vanilla candle, the one your best friend, Jungwon, made you promise to use so you'd remember him… even while being so far apart. But Jungwon hated travelling, so in his mind, you'd basically moved to another continent.
Jungwon dramatically declared, “You’re practically moving to another country.”
“Jungwon, I’m literally a two-hour train ride away.”
“That’s basically Europe.”
You rolled your eyes at the memory, smiling to yourself.
Still, you were glad you’d made the decision to move. Three years ahead of you… of being on your own, of learning to be independent, part-time jobs, and what you hoped…a future incoming relationship. It should be easy. It should be peaceful. It should be—
“DUDE!!!”
A scream ripped through your wall.
It came from the wall to your right, a thin wall nudged between you and your neighbours. You could hear celebrations. A voice shouted, “THAT WAS INSANE!” followed by a loud thump like someone had jumped off the sofa.
You tried ignoring it at first, burying yourself under the blanket like it could block out noise. But 20 minutes in, another screamed “HE’S OFFSIDE, YOU DUMB—” loud enough to rattle the walls, you snapped.
You threw on your hoodie, jammed your feet into slippers, and marched out the front door like you were storming a battlefield. The hallway was dim and quiet, except for the muffled party behind door 3C. You knocked, hard, but polite.
The door creaked open mid-laughter, revealing three guys mid-snack, mid-game.
“Hi,” you said, tight smile. “Sorry to bother you, but… would you mind keeping it down a little? I’ve got a test tomorrow and it’s kinda hard to focus with all the screaming.”
The one with fluffy hair, cute little eyes, nodded immediately. “Shit. Sorry, sorry. Totally our bad.”
Another one, long lashes and a goofy smile, actually winced. “Didn’t realise it was that loud. We’ll keep it down, promise.”
“Are you new here?” the first one asked.
You nodded. “I just moved in today, actually.”
“Oh shit. Mrs Kim moved out?”
“Damn, we’re not getting her kimchi anymore, that’s for sure.”
“We gotta eat those store-bought ones that taste like ass.”
The second boy looked at you again, more focused this time. “Oh right! I’m Jake! It’s great to meet you! I’m sorry it happened under… unfortunate circumstances. But we’ll be quieter!”
“I’m Jay, by the way,” the first one added with a small grin, pushing his hair back.
You nodded, smiling slightly. At least they were nice about it. Well, two out of three, anyway.
You glanced past both of them, eyes landing on the third boy slouched on the couch, still holding the controller, gaze fixed on the paused screen like you weren’t even there. His jaw clenched once. No name. No hello. Just a subtle, annoyed glance in your direction before he looked away again.
Cool. So he hates you. That’s cool with you.
The third guy didn’t say anything. Just glanced at you once, then turned back toward the TV.
“Uh, thanks,” you said, lips tight, already backing away.
You returned to your apartment and for a blessed thirty minutes, it was quiet.
Then someone scored a goal and the wall shook again.
You blinked slowly at your ceiling, arms folded under your head like the weight of your patience was finally starting to crush your ribs. Okay. So that’s how it was going to be. You frowned.
And that was literally… how war started.
The next morning, fuelled by petty vengeance and two hours of sleep, you grabbed your pastel pink sticky notes and wrote:
“Dear 3C, I’ve played FIFA before. It is not that damn fun for you to be out here screaming. Please tone it down. Regards, the zombie in 3B.”
You slapped it on their door. Nothing changed.
And the next day:
“Dear 3C, I can’t sleep. Kindly shut up <3 With love, the girl one more sleepless night away from writing to the landlord. 3B.”
You half expected them to ignore it. Instead, you found your note missing by mid-afternoon. Gone.
For a moment, you felt powerful. Maybe they’d actually listened.
Then 8:43 p.m. hit and someone in 3C scored a goal so loud you swore the bass from their TV made your candle flicker.
Alright. So it was personal now.
You stormed over to their door again, hands on your hips.. It wasn’t that late. You weren’t unreasonable. You believed in joy. In freedom. But right now? Rage was the only thing pumping through your system.
You shuffled down the hall with your bunny slippers slapping against the floor, hair in a claw clip that was giving up. You looked deranged. And for the first time, you were fine with that. You banged on their door.
The door cracked open a second later, revealing Jake blinking like a deer in headlights. His hair was messy. He looked mildly afraid.
“Were… we being loud again?”
You stared at him, deadpan. “Ya think?”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, okay. I’m so sorry. It’s Sunghoon. He keeps saying it’s not that loud and we were mid-tournament and—”
“Tell Sunghoon that his ego’s not the only thing echoing through these walls,” you snapped, arms crossed. “Some of us are trying to study.”
Behind Jake, you heard a familiar scoff followed by a smug voice yelling, “God, she’s so annoying. We were literally whispering.”
You leaned to the side, locking eyes with the third boy slouched on the couch, controller in hand, feet on the coffee table like the world owed him something. He didn’t even pause the game this time.
You didn’t know what it was about his stupidly symmetrical face but your blood boiled.
“Tell this Sunghoon guy…his whispering sounds like a screeching cat,” you said flatly, before spinning on your heel and marching back toward your door when you heard his aggravating voice.
“Tell her she’s overreacting over a couple of friends simply trying to have fun,” Sunghoon fired back from the couch, not even raising his voice.
You turned your head just enough to glare over your shoulder. “Well, tell him, his shirt doesn’t match his fucking pants.”
Jake looked helpless, standing between you both like a middle child caught in a divorce.
And then, with that same bored tone, Sunghoon called out again, “Well, tell her… those slippers are the best thing she’s worn all week.”
You stopped.
Jake sucked in a breath.
You slowly turned, eyes narrowing. “Tell him he wouldn’t know good fashion if it came with a user manual and punched him in his freaking face.”
Sunghoon finally glanced away from the TV, meeting your eyes for the first time that night. His lips curved into the most irritating half-smile you’d ever seen.
“Tell her–”
Jake stepped in between again, hands raised. “Okay! Okay. We’re gonna turn the volume down. Like, way down. Like you can’t even hear us tiptoe. Right, Sunghoon?”
Sunghoon leaned back against the couch and shrugged. “Whatever. I’m not the one annoying my neighbors at 9pm on a Friday night. Get some friends.”
You slammed your door shut.
War was back on.
-
The next morning, your plan was simple. A little petty, sure, but necessary.
You stood outside their door in your pyjamas, holding a fresh pack of neon yellow Post-its since your previous ones were used up by the ongoing Post-It war.The hallway was empty. Your bunny slippers made no sound as you padded up to 3C and stuck the first one of the week dead-centre on the door.
“Dear 3C, just a gentle reminder that FIFA will not feed you, clothe you, or give you money. Kindly shut up. PLEASE. Warmest regards, 3B.”
You smiled to yourself and floated back to your apartment.
That night? For the first time…? Silence. Beautiful, blissful silence. You actually managed to revise two chapters and fall asleep before midnight. You woke up in the morning feeling like a changed woman.
But then you opened your front door.
There, taped neatly to your door, was a blue sticky note with surprisingly neat handwriting.
“Dear 3B, you sound like you narrate your life out loud. – 3C.”
Your jaw dropped.
“Narrate your life out loud?” you muttered. “That’s literally called thinking.”
You marched back into your apartment, flung open your stationery drawer.
“Dear 3C, apologies if my internal monologue disrupted your daily FIFA championship. I only talk to myself because your volume settings make it impossible to hear my own thoughts. With all due respect (and ear damage), 3B."
That afternoon, Jay knocked on your door. You hesitated, then opened it a crack. He was holding a bag of convenience store pancakes in one hand.
“Peace offering,” he said. “Also, I think your notes are hilarious. Jake’s been collecting them. I think he’s making a scrapbook.”
You blinked. “Is this a joke or something?”
Jay shrugged, leaning casually against the doorframe. “No! Honestly, it’s kinda refreshing.”
Jake popped his head in from behind, grinning. “Also, your handwriting’s really neat.”
You opened the door a little wider, cautious then shrugged. “You want some… uh… spaghetti? I made it this morning.”
“Spaghetti?” Jay tilted his head.
You nodded. “Yeah. I usually experiment with food. I’m…uh…in culinary school.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “Wait, so you’re like… a chef?”
“Trying to be.,” you said with a shrug, suddenly a little self-conscious.
They exchanged a quick look before barging in like you'd personally handed them invites at the door.
“That’s so cool,” Jake said, practically bouncing as he flopped onto your beanbag. “I burnt instant noodles last week. Twice.”
Jay wandered deeper into your living room, his gaze landing on the dusty old guitar leaning against your bookshelf. “Dude, check it out! She plays the guitar.”
You rubbed the back of your neck, awkward. “It’s just for fun. I’m not that good.”
“I’m sure you’re great,” Jake said, already chewing through a mouthful of spaghetti he’d somehow found, and served himself in a bowl you didn’t remember offering.
You blinked at him. “Did you just—?”
“Plate was right there,” he said through a mouthful. “I took it as a sign.”
Jay nodded solemnly. “She feeds us and plays guitar. She’s better than Mrs. Kim already.”
You sighed and closed the door behind them. “I’m starting to think Mrs. Kim left because of the three of you.”
In between bites, Jake nodded without hesitation. “I think so too.”
“We can be loud,” Jay added, helping himself to another serving.
“Have you thought of… not being loud?”
“We do,” Jay said. “But then we get loud again.”
You rolled your eyes. “Guys, some of us have school and—”
“We have school too,” Jake chimed in, mouth full.
“Okay… some of us care about sleep.”
Jay perked up. “That’s why we got you this.”
He dug into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a tiny box, dropping it into your hands.
You squinted at it. “What’s this?”
“They’re sleep buds,” he said proudly. “They go in your ears and play white noise and, like… ocean sounds or something. Blocks everything out. Even us.”
You stared at the box, then at them.
“Instead of compromising, you got me gear?”
Jake grinned. “Yeah. We like you. We want you to be able to sleep… through us.”
Jay gave you a thumbs-up. “It’s called adaptation.”
You looked down at the sleep buds in your hands and then back up at the two of them absolutely inhaling your spaghetti like they hadn’t eaten in weeks.
You didn’t know whether to kick them out or thank them.
So you just sighed, defeated. “You guys are the weirdest neighbours I’ve ever had.”
Jake beamed. “Aww. You’re the weirdest too.”
And somehow… the next day… they were back.
You opened the door mid-knock, confused, only to find Jay grinning at you.
“What’s for lunch today, boss?” he asked, already halfway through the doorway.
You blinked. “How’d you know I made something?”
“We could smell it,” Jake said, stepping in right behind him, holding up a comically large spoon. “Smells so good. Brought my big spoon today. Came prepared.”
“Uh… I made chowder?”
Jake’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, I love chowder.”
Jay had already plopped onto the floor cushion, flipping through your Spotify like he owned your iPad. “What kind? Clam? Corn? Pumpkin? Wait… do people put pumpkin in chowder?”
You stared at them, ladle in hand.
“Corn,” you muttered, shuffling back into the kitchen.
Then the day after that… they came again. At this point, it felt less like a surprise and more like a recurring appointment.
“No fucking way. Kimchi stew? This shit is so good!. Jay, you need to try the beef. It’s so soft. How— how’d you get it so soft? Is this like one of those expensive beef? Wakoo?”
“It’s Wagyu, Jake.” You corrected.
“Wagyu~” He sang.
Jay, already mid-bite, nodded with a full mouth. “Can I havefth thefth reshepee?”
You wiped your hands on a dish towel, leaning against the counter with one brow raised. “Do you guys ever eat in your own apartment?”
Jake didn’t miss a beat. “Not when you cook like this.”
Jay pointed his chopsticks at you like he was making a closing argument in court. “This is technically your fault. You fed us once. That’s basically a binding contract. We’re best friends now. Aren’t we, Jake?”
Jake nodded, mouth full. “Mhmff. Whatever he said.”
You sighed, setting your elbow on the table and dropping your chin into your hand. “If you’re gonna keep doing this, at least wash the dishes after.”
Jake saluted you with his spoon like you were the captain of a very tiny, soup-based army. “Yes, chef.”
You looked at the two of them, one already on his third helping, the other stealing more beef straight from the pot, and shook your head.
This wasn’t how your independent, put-together, college life was supposed to go. You were meant to be focused. The mysterious girl on the third floor who only ever came out for groceries and exams.
But maybe… with the two of them barging in uninvited, eating like they hadn’t seen food in years, and treating your living room like it was theirs…
Maybe you wouldn’t feel so lonely after all.
-
It was 9 p.m. Strangely quiet.
Usually, by now, there’d be at least one goal celebration shaking the walls or someone shouting about a missed penalty. But tonight? Nothing. You didn’t let it bother you. You took it as a win.
The balcony door slid open with a soft scrape. You stepped out into the cool night, cradling your little scissors and spray bottle like sacred tools. Your succulents were arranged in a neat line. A few leaves had started to curl. You knelt down, snipping the dead ends carefully.
You should’ve felt peaceful.
But tonight, something tugged at your chest.
You missed Jungwon. You missed your mom’s mismatched cutlery and the way your dad always forgot he’d already asked about your grades. Maybe even your pet fish, the one that never did much except float around looking confused.
Jay and Jake were friendly, sure. But they weren’t yours. They weren’t part of your before. They didn’t know the town you came from or the versions of you that existed before now.
And even though you thought you’d settled in... even though you were coping...you were lonely.
Without meaning to, you started speaking out loud — just like you always did.
“It’s fine. You’ll do better tomorrow. Tomorrow you won’t feel as lonely,” you said softly as you misted the leaves. “You’ll be stronger. You’re gonna get used to this. You can do it.”
But the lie caught in your throat.
Because you were crying already.
You wiped your cheek with the sleeve of your hoodie, frustrated, betrayed by your own body. You reached for your phone without thinking and hit the contact you swore you wouldn’t keep calling every time you got overwhelmed.
Jungwon answered on the first ring.
“What’s up?” he asked, casual as ever.
“Won…” you breathed out.
There was a pause. Then: “Are you crying?”
“No?”
“I can hear you sniffling, you shit.”
“It’s just—” your voice cracked. “It’s hard. I’m alone all the time. I’ve got no friends. I’ve got no one to talk to. I’m alone, Won.”
“I know,” he said gently. “I know…”
There was a pause. You could hear him shifting in bed, his voice soft and serious now. “But think about it this way, okay? You’re barely in your first month. You’re gonna get used to it. You’re gonna find people. You’re gonna build something here. It just takes time.”
You bit your lip. “You’ll visit if you can, right?”
“I’ll visit,” he promised. “Even if it takes two bloody hours.”
“But you hate traveling.”
“For you, I’d suffer.”
You sniffled. “You’re just saying that so I’ll hang up.”
“You’re right because I’m exhausted from basketball. But also… I love you.”
“Fine,” you mumbled. “I love you too.”
“Chin up. You’re talented and you deserve to be there. You can do this. We’re all counting on you.”
“I know.” You exhaled slowly. “Goodnight, Wonnie.”
“Night.”
You ended the call and sat in silence for a moment, letting the cool night air settle on your skin. The tears had stopped. Your hands still smelled like mint and basil and the faint sweetness of the spray bottle. You stared at your succulents, wondering if they ever got lonely too.
Unbeknownst to you, just a few feet away, out on the connected balcony, hidden by the divider, someone had heard everything.
He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He’d stepped out earlier, just needing air, needing quiet, needing to be somewhere still for once. And then he’d heard your voice. The words that were not meant for anyone else.
And for the first time, Sunghoon didn’t roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment.
He just stood there in the dark, one hand gripping the railing, heart a little heavier than before.
He understood more than you thought.
And somewhere between your tears and Jungwon’s voice, he changed his mind about you.
-
The next few days, there was absolute silence. Maybe the food had finally worked some psychological warfare on Jay and Jake. Maybe it was their way of returning the favour. Either way, you weren’t about to question it.
You were grateful, to say the least.
Because for the past week, you’d been moping around your apartment. Living alone and striking out as an “independent bachelorette” sounded empowering in theory, but in practice? Maybe you weren’t one of those girlies after all…y’know the ones on Instagram who made solitude look like a season of self-discovery instead of a series of breakdowns.
It was Saturday. You’d spent the entire morning in bed watching a Netflix documentary about some guy swindling people on Tinder, surrounded by crumpled tissue and scented candle smoke that had long turned suffocating. You were still in yesterday’s hoodie, blanket tangled around your legs.
Three knocks echoed at the door.
You lifted your head from the pillow with a groan, barely alive. The sound came again.
Dragging yourself across the living room, you cracked the door open just a sliver, just wide enough to peek through but not enough to reveal the disaster that was your face, your hair, or your pride.
“Uh.” The voice was hesitant. Familiar.
You squinted.
Sunghoon.
You blinked. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice hoarse from crying and a full night of narrating your own spiral.
“There was a mix-up with the mail,” he said, holding up a small stack of envelopes.
“Oh.” You extended your arm awkwardly through the tiny gap in the door and grabbed the letters. “Thanks.”
There was a pause, “I can see your puffy eyes through the gap.”
You scoffed, immediately pulling the door closer. “You just have to be a smartass about everything, don’t you?”
He shrugged, completely unbothered, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Still standing there.
“…Are Jake and Jay home?” you asked, trying to sound casual.
His expression twitched, almost amused. “Why? Trying to steal my best friends again or—”
“No,” you deadpanned. “I was just wondering. It’s been… quiet this whole week.”
“They went home to visit their families.”
Oh. Right. Come to think of it, maybe that explained why everything felt extra heavy lately. It was the time of year people usually went home. People surrounded themselves with comfort and familiarity. And here you were, stuck in the city because the train ticket home was just slightly out of budget.
“You didn’t go?” you asked softly.
“Can’t,” he shrugged.
“Oh.”
There was a beat of silence. Then he tilted his head.
“Well,” Sunghoon said slowly, “if you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a rat’s nest, you know where to find me.”
The words came with the usual venom but the message behind them landed differently.
You stared at him through the gap in the door. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be funny, or… sincere, in his own weird, backhanded way. It was strange. You’d only had three full conversations with the guy. And every single one ended in a WWE tournament.
You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Are you… being nice to me?”
He clicked his tongue. “Don’t ruin it.”
And with that, he turned and walked back.
-
You finally got up.
There was no movie-worthy breakthrough moment. Just the dull ache in your head from crying too much and the feeling that if you shed one more tear, your eyeballs might actually eject themselves from their sockets. So you moved. You stripped your bed, tossed the mountain of tissues into a trash bag, sprayed half a bottle of disinfectant in the air, and opened every window.
Your apartment looked like it had survived an apocalypse, which, to be fair, was accurate. But you scrubbed it back to life.
By the time you were in the kitchen, your eyes were still a little swollen, but you’d pressed them with cool spoons and a sad little compress until you could see straight again. Kind of.
You pulled out ingredients from your fridge one by one, lining them up like you were preparing for war. Slicing, boiling, julienning, stir-frying. The sound of the pan crackling beneath the glass noodles filled the silence of your apartment. It smelled exactly like it did when your mom used to make it.
You plated it in a wide, shallow bowl. It was delicious. Of course it was. You took pride in it. You always had. Jungwon used to tease you, calling your hands “blessed by Gordon Ramsay” like everything you touched turned into comfort food. You’d swat his arm, trying not to smile as he reached for second helpings before you’d even sat down.
You missed him. You missed your family. You missed not having to eat alone on a day like this.
Your eyes drifted to the door.
Would it be stupid? To bring food to Sunghoon? You’d never really done anything kind for him. Most of your interactions were lined with sarcasm and insults. And yet… that one line of his kept replaying in your head, “If you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a rat’s nest, you know where to find me.”
So maybe…maybe he meant it. Or maybe you were just desperate for company and your noodles were starting to get cold.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you packed the noodles into a clean container, wrapped a rubber band around it, and found yourself standing in front of 3C. Your feet had walked you here without permission. Your hand hovered in the air, ready to knock, but now… you hesitated. You weren’t here to complain. You weren’t here to yell. And that made it harder.
And just before your knuckles could land on the door, it swung open.
Sunghoon stood in front of you, coat already on, scarf looped lazily around his neck. There was a little shine to his hair like he’d styled it, and he looked surprised, mildly confused to find you on his doorstep without any anger evident in your eyes.
“What?” he said, voice dry.
You blinked, staring at him. You’d never really looked at him properly before. Not when he was this put-together. The gel in his hair, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his scarf sat slightly off-center like he’d thrown it on in a rush. You knew he was attractive. You weren’t blind. But seeing him now?
Sunghoon was actually… pretty handsome.
“I—uh—” you stammered.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Spit it out.”
“I—uh—I made some… stir-fried glass noodles,” you said, stumbling over every syllable. “And I know how much it sucks being alone on a day like this, so I thought… maybe it’d bring you some kind of familiarity. From home, or something.”
You didn’t let yourself overthink it. You shoved the container into his hands, heart pounding.
“Bye,” you mumbled, before immediately turning around and marching back to your apartment like you’d just robbed a bank. The door clicked shut behind you.
You pressed your back to it, eyes wide.
Shit.
Was Sunghoon actually hot?
-
Sunghoon stood in the hallway, unmoving. The container in his hands was warm and he stared down at it for a couple of seconds longer than he probably should’ve.
Jake and Jay had been raving about your cooking for weeks. At first, he thought they were exaggerating. How good could someone’s food be that it made two of the loudest people he knew voluntarily whisper through a FIFA match?
But he’d seen it with his own eyes, Jake silently fist-pumping the air, mouthing “LET’S FUCKING GO” after a goal, and Jay barely reacting as he scored. They even created a rule: first one to speak puts a dollar in the Silence Jar. A literal jar. With money.
Sunghoon didn’t get it.
And he didn’t particularly care to. Not then.
But now, standing in the hallway in his coat and scarf, staring at the gift you shoved into his hands with flushed cheeks, something felt different.
He had been on his way out, actually. There was a bar nearby, nothing special, just a dim-lit spot with quiet music and decent food where no one bothered him. He usually went there whenever Jay and Jake went back home, like they did this time every year. It wasn’t that he didn’t have family—he did. It just wasn’t… warm. They were always busy. Always somewhere else, even when they were in the same room.
He peeled off his scarf, feet dragging a little as he headed back into the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. He set the container on the kitchen counter, grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the drawer, and opened the lid.
Steam wafted up instantly, sesame oil, soy sauce, garlic, something subtly sweet he couldn’t name. The noodles glistened. They looked homemade. No, they felt homemade.
He picked up a strand and gave it a tentative taste.
His eyes widened before he could even help it.
It was good. Like stupid good. Like how the hell is this girl not running her own restaurant kind of good. Better than anything he would’ve paid for at that bar tonight.
He stood there in silence, chopsticks hovering mid-air, thinking back.
He wasn’t proud of how he’d treated you. Three encounters, three arguments. He remembered each one too clearly. The snark in his voice. The way your expression hardened. The notes on the door.
But it wasn’t really about you.
He hated being called out. Hated being the problem. Maybe it was ego, or maybe it was the way he’d always felt like he had to be put-together or to say the least…controlled. Your presence threw him off. You were loud in a way that was sincere. You didn’t filter your emotions. You wore your annoyance on your sleeve and your feelings on your face.
It irritated him. It also… made him feel something.
And then there was that night on the balcony.
He hadn’t meant to listen. But when he heard your voice cracking through the divider, talking to someone…maybe it was your boyfriend? Your best friend? Whoever it was about how lonely you were, it hit him harder than it should’ve.
Because he got it.
He felt it too.
Being alone in a crowd. Having people around but never really with you. That weight in your chest that didn’t come from sadness exactly…just the absence of warmth.
Sunghoon felt it more often than he cared to admit. He loved Jake and Jay, loved them to pieces. They were the kind of people who filled a room with noise and an energy he couldn’t really place and who made him laugh even when he didn’t want to.
He wanted something more. Something real.
Someone who just… saw him.
He sat at his kitchen counter, staring at the container of glass noodles still warm with steam curling from the lid. He wasn’t usually impulsive. He didn’t do gestures. But maybe tonight called for something a little uncharacteristic.
He stood and reached up, opening the top cupboard where Jake and Jay kept what they called their “emergency date plates.”. The kind of plates you used to impress someone. They only ever brought them out when trying to convince girls they were not, in fact, living in a borderline condemned apartment flat.
He grabbed two.
And then, before he could second guess it, he walked out into the hallway and knocked.
Your door creaked open a few seconds later.
You blinked at him, confused. “What?”
It almost felt like deja vu. Except now, he was you…awkward at the door.
And then it hit him.
He looked at you…like, really looked at you, and for the first time, he realised he’d never actually seen you before.
You were wearing a soft pink sleeveless dress, the fabric loose and falling just above your knees, cinched slightly at the waist. Your hair was tied into a side braid, fringe swept slightly to the side, with a few delicate strands left loose to frame your face. You looked like you belonged in a pastel painting.
Shit.
Were you actually—pretty?
Nope. Nope. Stop that. Sunghoon blinked hard, trying to erase the thought.
Damn it.
You probably had a boyfriend. Someone smart and warm and emotionally available who FaceTimed you every night and wrote you good morning texts. Someone who missed you from back home.
And besides…someone who could cook like you? You could probably bag Jake and Jay at the same time in under a minute if you wanted. Not that you would. But still.
He cleared his throat.
“I, uh…” He held up the plates slightly. “I thought maybe… you could join me?”
He wasn’t good at this. But his voice was steady.
“Only if you want to,” he added, quickly. “I just figured. Y’know. Glass noodles taste better on… plates that aren’t plastic.”
His eyes met yours.
He was trying.
And this time, it was your turn to blink in disbelief.
-
Sunghoon had returned with the container of glass noodles, now a little colder, a little stickier, but still giving off the faint aroma of sesame oil and soy sauce. You’d reheated it and plated it up, slightly embarrassed that the presentation wasn’t what it had been fresh off the stove, but he didn’t seem to care. Or maybe he did, but you couldn’t tell, because for the first five minutes, you didn’t look at each other.
The clink of chopsticks, the occasional scrape of ceramic, and your ceiling fan. It was awkward. You wondered why he even came. Why he asked in the first place, if he was just going to eat in silence.
“So,” you said.
“So,” he said.
You paused.
“You first.”
“No, you—”
“Okay, I’ll go first,” he said, cutting himself off. He cleared his throat and set his chopsticks down. “I—uh—I just wanted to say thanks. For the meal.”
You blinked. “Okay.” You nodded slowly. “You’re… shockingly formal when you’re not pissed.”
“I—” Sunghoon let out a breath and leaned back a little in the chair. “I was never pissed.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, nodding, eyes narrowed. “Sure.”
“I was annoyed, sure. Who likes being called out?”
“I wasn’t trying to call you out,” you said, tilting your head. “But put yourself in my shoes. I have to wake up at stupid o’clock to learn how to make a soufflé or whatever, and meanwhile, I’m treated to surround sound yelling and the occasional ceiling vibration.”
He gave a small shrug. “Well, we haven’t done it in a while.”
“And I’m grateful,” you replied, lips twitching. “Truly.”
“We got a silence jar and everything,” he muttered, almost like he didn’t want to admit it.
Your eyebrows shot up. “A silence jar?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Jay implemented it. He said if we keep it up, we’ll have enough for extra toppings on our next pizza night.”
You burst into laughter, the sound surprising even yourself. It came out light and real, and you covered your mouth halfway through. “That’s… honestly? A decent plan.”
“It can be,” he said with a grin starting to pull at the corner of his mouth. “Until everyone starts trying to play FIFA like it’s an ASMR video.”
“You guys actually whisper?” you asked, incredulous.
“Well, yeah. You told us to.”
“I didn’t think you would listen,” you said, pointing your chopsticks at him.
Sunghoon shrugged again, his eyes dropping to the plate in front of him. “Well… they changed my mind, so.”
He didn’t say what he was really thinking.
That it wasn’t Jake or Jay who changed his mind. It was that night. The way your voice had carried through the gap in the balcony, fragile and cracking. The way you’d said I’m alone, Won like it was something that had been sitting inside you for too long, waiting to spill. He’d realised then maybe he wasn’t just an annoying neighbour to you. Maybe he was part of the problem. Maybe he’d been making things harder for someone who was already trying to hold it all together.
“So…” he said quietly, eyes on his plate, “why are you alone during the holidays anyway?”
“Couldn’t afford a train ticket,” you said eventually. “I mean—I could have, technically. But that’d mean I wouldn’t have enough money left to buy ingredients for my assignments the next few weeks.”
Sunghoon winced. “Oof. That’s rough. Must suck.”
You gave a little shrug. “Yeah. It’s fine though.”
He knew it wasn’t.
There was a pause. He glanced sideways at you.
“If you ever… feel like you need someone to talk to,” he started, voice casual, “you could just knock. I have FIFA.”
You snorted. “Oh, like I’d willingly join that mess.”
“It’s actually really fun.”
“How fun can flinging a ball across a screen with your thumbs be?”
“It is!” he defended, turning fully toward you.
You raised a brow. “I tried once with my friend and it was so boring.”
“That’s ‘cause you weren’t playing it right,” he insisted, already standing up. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
“I’m not playing FIFA with you.”
“Come onnn,” he whined, grabbing your wrist and tugging you lightly toward his door.
“God, this is gonna be so stupid,” you muttered, dragging your feet even as you followed him out.
Inside his apartment, the lights were warm, the couch sunken in like it had been through a war. You sat reluctantly, tucking your knees up as he handed you the controller.
“Alright,” he said, sliding in beside you. “This is you—Team Two. All you have to do is use the left joystick to move, the right one to look around. This button to pass, this one to shoot.”
You blinked. “So many buttons.”
“It’s easy! Just follow what I say.”
“Okay… so now I just—?” You pressed a button and immediately kicked the ball out of bounds.
“No, no—move left. Left.”
“I am moving left!”
He glanced over. Your tongue was sticking out slightly in concentration, eyes squinted, brows furrowed. He chuckled before he could stop himself, quickly looking away.
Then you screamed, “I DID IT! DID I DO IT?!”
He turned back just in time to see you score.
Sunghoon yelled, jumping up. “Yeah! That was it!”
You stared at the screen, jaw dropping. “Holy shit. I’m amazing.”
He looked at you again, this time longer. Your eyes were glowing, still locked on the TV. Your fingers tapped at the buttons like you already got it down. You bit your lip when you were focused, tongue sticking out just slightly when you were thinking.
And you were cute. So fucking cute.
The match picked up pace. Suddenly it was 2–2, and both of you were leaning in like your lives depended on it. You were yelling at the controller. He was shouting advice. At one point, your knees knocked, but neither of you noticed. The room was loud, just your voices and the music from the game and the way your laughter filled every corner of his flat.
Then it happened.
You scored.
You screamed, controller tossed onto the couch, and before Sunghoon could register what was happening, your arms were around his neck, squeezing him tight as you jumped slightly in place.
“I WON! DID YOU SEE THAT?!”
He froze. Your cheek brushed his jaw, your warmth right up against him. His hands hovered midair like he didn’t know whether to hold you back or not.
And then you let go, plopped back onto the couch, and grabbed the controller again like nothing had happened.
Sunghoon didn’t move.
For the first time in what felt like forever, his heartbeat stuttered. Sped up like it had been woken from a long, indifferent sleep.
He sat there, silent, staring at you as you shouted at your pixelated team.
And all he could think was well that…he hadn’t planned on crushing on the new girl based on one single positive interaction.
God, he was so screwed.
-
The next few days passed in a blur of almost-conversations.
You and Sunghoon didn’t talk much. Not like that night. Just a few polite waves across the hallway, a quiet “hey” if you caught the elevator at the same time. Respectful nods. The occasional awkward glance if your eyes met for too long.
And then Jake and Jay came back.
And of course, Jake being Jake, invited himself into your apartment before you could even say no.
“I missed your cooking while I was gone,” he sighed dramatically, sinking into the dining chair like he’d returned from war.
“Well, today’s your lucky day,” you said, flipping through your assignment folder and squinting at the week’s task. “Because for today’s assignment, I’m supposed to…” you paused. “Make a really mean chicken pot pie.”
Jake’s eyes lit up. He clapped his hands, nearly tipping his chair over. “CHICKEN POT PIE?!”
Before you could even blink, he leapt up, yanked your door open, and sprinted into the hallway.
“JAY! IT’S CHICKEN POT PIE!” he yelled like it was a fire drill.
From across the hall, Jay’s voice rang out. “WHAT?! NO WAY!”
And then—another voice joined them.
A quieter one.
“Chicken pot pie?”
You didn’t even have time to react before you were suddenly hosting three grown men in your kitchen, all leaning over your counter.
“Guys,” you said, elbow-deep in flour. “I can’t focus if you’re all staring at me like that.”
“We’re just excited,” Jake grinned, chin in his hands.
“Well don’t be. I’ve never made this before. It might taste like ass.”
“Your hands are basically blessed by Gordon Ramsay,” Jay declared, grabbing a slice of carrot from the cutting board. “It’s impossible for it to taste like ass.”
You laughed, the sound soft and unexpected even to yourself. “Jungwon used to tell me that all the time.”
“Oh he did?” Jay echoed, voice teasing.
Sunghoon stood a few steps back from the others, arms crossed loosely, leaning against your fridge. He hadn’t said much since stepping into your place, but now he watched the three of you.
The way you smiled when Jay made a joke. The way Jake knew where you kept your mixing bowls. The way your eyes sparkled, just slightly, when you laughed about something from home. The way they got it. The way they knew you.
And the way he didn’t.
Sunghoon couldn’t explain it but it made his stomach twist. Tight and strange and uncomfortable.
And then he heard it again.
Jungwon.
Who the hell was Jungwon?
His name sounded too casual. Too affectionate. The kind of name you didn’t just drop without meaning.
Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He just looked down at your countertop, at the flour dusting your hands and the delicate way your fingers shaped the crust, and all he could think was—
Why the fuck did he care so much?
You moved around your kitchen with the kind of ease that made it impossible not to watch. Sunghoon’s eyes were locked on you, the way your hair swayed behind your back as you leaned forward to stir something in the pot, the way your sleeves were pushed up.
His heart pounded harder than it should’ve. He tried to brush it off. Maybe he was just hungry. Maybe it was just the smell of garlic and butter making him lightheaded. That had to be it, right?
Except no.
He hadn’t planned on feeling like this today. Not when he woke up. Not when he brushed his teeth and went on his phone and told himself he’d stay in his apartment. He hadn’t even planned on coming over. And that night the two of you shared noodles? He’d chalked it up to vulnerability. Nighttime feelings. Nothing serious.
But now it was noon. He was awake. Sober. And you were still somehow making his chest tighten just by existing within ten feet of him.
God. He hated having a crush.
He didn’t even realise how lost he looked until Jake spoke up from the side, breaking the spell.
“So, is Jungwon finally coming?”
This guy again.
Sunghoon’s head whipped toward Jake so fast it might’ve snapped his neck.
You perked up at the mention, a smile blooming across your face without even trying. “Yeah! He’s coming in two weeks! I actually told him about you guys. He’s kinda excited to meet you.”
That smile. It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t forced. You looked like someone who meant it. Someone who missed this guy. Someone who talked to him often.
Sunghoon clenched his jaw and looked away, grabbing a water bottle off your counter just to do something with his hands. He twisted the cap a little too hard.
He didn’t know who the hell Jungwon was.
But he already didn’t like him.
“He’s coming over?” Jay asked, his mouth still half-full of pie filling.
“Yeah,” you said casually, brushing a stray hair behind your ear as you peeked into the oven. “He’s staying at my place for the week he’s here.”
Staying at your place?
Sunghoon blinked.
He looked around your apartment, eyes scanning every corner like they were going to magically reveal a hidden guest room. But there wasn’t one. You lived in a studio. Everything was in one space. Your bed, your desk, your kitchen, your couch. Except… there wasn’t even a real couch. Just a throw-covered loveseat that barely seated two.
No air mattress in sight. No hidden folding cot. No suspicious lumpy bags that might hold a spare futon.
Just one bed.
His chest tightened.
Where the hell was Jungwon gonna sleep? With you?
He picked at the label on his water bottle, teeth grinding quietly as he stared down at the floor, like it held answers. It didn’t.
He wasn’t even involved with you. This shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t bother him.
But it did. In the most uncomfortable, teeth-clenching, mind-racing kind of way.
-
You stood in front of the three boys, arms crossed, heart racing slightly under your apron. The chicken pot pie sat on the table…golden brown crust, just the right amount of bubbling over on the sides, the smell of thyme and butter and garlic filling your apartment.
Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon each took a spoonful at the same time like they’d rehearsed it. You watched them, nervous, scanning their faces.
One by one, their expressions lit up. Jake’s eyes widened, Jay let out a satisfied groan. Well… except Sunghoon. Of course.
He stayed still. Always unreadable. But you caught it. The tiny pause, the way his brows lifted just a fraction. He liked it. He just didn’t show it like the others.
“So—” Jake started.
“Good,” Jay finished, already reaching for more.
Your eyes flicked to Sunghoon. Somehow, his opinion was the one you were waiting on. The one you needed.
“So?” you asked, staring at him.
He blinked. “What?”
“How is it?”
“It’s good,” he said, nodding once, tone flat as ever.
Your smile dropped. You frowned. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
“What? I just said it’s good.”
“No, you said ‘good’ and then frowned and put your spoon down. Usually it’s ‘It’s good,’ then a second bite. Right, boys?”
Jake nodded enthusiastically, chicken still in his mouth. “She’s right.”
“Totally right,” Jay added, already helping himself to more.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, leaning back slightly. “You’re all being dramatic.”
You scoffed, insulted. “I guess you don’t want seconds then. Tch.”
You clicked your tongue and turned on your heel, storming off toward the kitchen, grumbling under your breath. Your apron fluttered behind you as you moved, and you didn’t look back.
Sunghoon watched your little pout, the way your shoulders stiffened, how you exaggerated every step. He didn’t know why, but he liked your reaction. No, he loved it. He found it ridiculously cute. Too cute, actually. That slight wrinkle in your forehead. The way your voice got higher when you were mad. The tiny stomp in your step.
The moment your back turned, his lips twitched upward.
When lunch ended and the three of them stood by your front door, Jake and Jay turned to hug you dramatically.
“Never move out,” Jake said into your shoulder.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re just saying that because you get free food.”
“And precisely why we don’t want you to move out,” Jay replied, squeezing you once more before the two of them shuffled out, bickering as they made their way into their apartment across the hall.
Sunghoon lingered. Just behind you.
You turned, raising a brow. “Aren’t you leaving?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He stepped back slowly, hands in his pockets, gaze flicking to the floor before settling back on you. Then he paused. Like he wasn’t sure if he should say what he was about to say.
“The chicken pot pie was good. I think…” he exhaled, voice quieter, “I think it was one of the best things I’ve ever had.”
You blinked, caught off guard.
“It reminded me of home,” he added, eyes still on you now, a little softer than usual. “Not in the way where it’s about the taste or anything… it’s just… you cook like home. If that makes any sense.”
You hadn’t expected that.
Your cheeks flushed immediately. You turned away before he could see it, pretending to fiddle with a dish on the counter, fingers uselessly adjusting an already-clean plate.
“Thank you,” you murmured, voice low, almost shy.
He lingered for a second longer like he wanted to say more. Then he gave a quiet nod and walked out the door.
-
It was raining.
It was only 4 p.m., but the sky had turned an eerie charcoal grey, clouds rolling thick above the city. Thunder cracked so loud you felt it in your chest, and the wind howled between the buildings, slamming against your windows.
You hated this.
You hated how much you still feared storms even at your age. How useless independence felt when you were stuffing tissues in your ears and jamming earmuffs over your head like you were five again. You turned on every single light in your apartment, lamps, fairy lights, even your microwave light and cocooned yourself under your thickest blanket, barely breathing, eyes wide.
Then the whole building shuddered.
The lights flickered.
And then everything went dark.
You screamed.
Your apartment disappeared into a blanket of pitch black, shadows curling up the walls like ink. Your heart pounded. You scrambled up from the couch, tearing off your earmuffs and patting the walls with shaky hands, trying to find a light switch like that would fix anything.
“Shit,” you whispered, voice trembling. “Shit shit shit.”
You fumbled for your phone. A message popped up from your landlord.
“The building is experiencing a temporary blackout due to the storm. Electricity should resume in an hour. Thank you for your patience.”
An hour? Alone? In this? In the dark? Absolutely fucking not.
You jumped at another violent crack of thunder and instantly rushed out into the hallway. Your blanket trailed behind you like a cape. You beelined for the only door you knew.
You knocked. The door swung open almost immediately.
“No time to explain but I’m shitting bricks here,” you said all at once.
It wasn’t Jake or Jay.
It was Sunghoon.
His brows raised. “The thunderstorm?”
You nodded frantically. “Are Jake or Jay here?”
“They’re asleep.” He glanced behind him, then back at you. “But I could… stay with you. If you want. Until it passes.”
You hesitated.
Then thunder cracked again, louder this time, right above your building.
You flinched. “Okay,” you breathed, defeated.
The two of you sat cross-legged on your couch, sharing a single candle as your only source of light. It flickered between you, casting long, warm shadows on the walls.
“Seems like you’re scared of the thunder,” he said gently.
“Well,” you sighed, voice tight. “I’ve been scared of it since I was younger. It just… gets to me.”
He nodded. “It’s okay.”
You noticed it then…the subtle tremble in his shoulders. He was shivering. From the cold, probably. Your heater wasn’t working without electricity, and the apartment was steadily turning into a fridge. You were wrapped up like a burrito, but he’d come in without anything but a hoodie.
Feeling guilty, you shifted toward him and lifted one side of your blanket.
“Uh…” he looked at you like he wasn’t sure if he was being pranked.
“Relax. I can see you shivering like a dog,” you muttered.
“Oh.” He blinked, then grabbed the other end of the blanket and scooted in beside you.
Now under the same blanket, his body heat pressed faintly against yours. You sat side by side, knees pulled to your chests.
And then, in a whisper, he said, “You know…”
You looked over at him, startled by the sudden softness in his voice.
“I know I’m not as close to you as Jay and Jake are,” he said, eyes trained on the candle, “but… you don’t always have to find them for help.”
You blinked. “Huh?”
“I’m saying…” he sighed, eyes flicking up toward you, and then away again. “Never mind.”
“No, what? Just spit it out.”
He exhaled through his nose like it physically hurt to get the words out. “I’m just saying… you could ask me for help too.”
You stared at him, your eyes adjusting to the candlelight flickering between you.
“Oh,” you said softly.
There was a beat of silence. You weren’t really sure what to do with that. But you didn’t want to leave it hanging either.
“I’ll be sure to think of you the next time,” you mumbled, barely louder than the rain still pelting the windows outside.
You felt him nod beside you.
You turned your head slowly, resting your cheek against your knees, eyes drifting toward him. His face was tilted down, lashes long and dark as they blinked now and then, just slow enough for you to notice. His jaw had softened a little. He looked calm, in a way you weren’t used to seeing him.
“Would you rather have a million dollars,” you said suddenly, “or have no problems in the world?”
He blinked, confused for a second, then turned his head toward you. His chin was on his knees now too, and with the two of you curled up in the same blanket, inches apart, it felt almost like whispering under covers at a sleepover.
“What kind of question is that?”
“A good one,” you replied, lips twitching. “So answer it.”
He scoffed a little under his breath. “Uh… maybe no problems in the world?”
“Smart answer. Why?”
He paused, “I think people ruin themselves trying to solve problems that shouldn’t be theirs. If I had no problems, maybe I wouldn’t waste time worrying about all the stuff that doesn’t matter.”
You blinked at him. That was… not the answer you were expecting. It was a good one. Way too good, actually.
“Right,” you said softly, giving him a small nod.
He looked at you for a second longer before his eyes flicked down. “Your turn. Would you rather go back in time or go into the future?”
You puffed your cheeks out, thinking. “Hmm… that’s a toughie.”
Then your eyes widened, the way they always did when you had a lightbulb moment. “Go back in time!”
“Why’s that?”
“So maybe I’d really weigh the pros and cons of moving to a city where I know no one,” you said with a grin, but it faded slightly at the end.
Sunghoon stayed quiet.
“You must really feel alone,” he said.
You blinked, startled. “What?”
“I hear you talking about it sometimes. On your balcony. When you think no one’s listening. You talk about how moving here feels like a mistake.”
You looked away, embarrassed. “It’s not a mistake. I just… miss everything back home.”
“I get it,” he said after a second. “I was like you. Back when I was home, I wanted to leave so badly. Thought being somewhere else would fix everything. But now that I’m here… yeah, I have Jay and Jake, and they’re great, but sometimes I come back to the apartment and everything’s fine and normal and still—I just feel… empty. And I don’t even know why.”
You didn’t say anything for a long time.
You just watched him. His face had turned thoughtful, distant. His eyes unfocused, drifting somewhere past the flickering candle, past your walls, like he was staring right through the quiet that lived in his chest.
You mumbled, “Well, yeah. But… I also don’t regret it. Not one bit.”
“Really?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I mean—I’m here doing what I love. Not many people get to do that. And I made friends with three incredibly annoying people in this building.”
He turned toward you again, eyes narrowing playfully. “So we’re friends now?”
Your cheeks heated up instantly. You glanced away, pretending to roll your eyes. “Are we not?”
He let out a low chuckle, the kind that rumbled softly at the back of his throat. “I’m glad you think we are.”
“So,” you said, tilting your head, “does this mean you’ll finally be nice to me now? Or is that too much character development for one night?”
Sunghoon smirked, eyes flicking to you with a teasing glint. “You want nice? From me?”
“Yeah. Like a full sentence without sarcasm. I feel like that’s a reward I’ve earned by now.”
“You earned a participation medal at best.”
You laughed, nudging him with your knee. “Unbelievable.”
He was already looking at you again—closer this time.
“Hold on,” he said softly, “you have an eyelash on your cheek.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
Before you could move, he leaned in.
His face hovered inches from yours as his thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch soft but sure. The pads of his fingers were warm. His eyes, now impossibly close, scanned your face with a kind of quiet focus you hadn’t felt from him before. You swallowed.
Neither of you moved.
Your gaze locked, and the space between you slowly disappeared…inch by inch, breath by breath. It wasn’t planned. It just… happened.
Then suddenly, his lips were on yours.
Then it deepened. His other hand pushed the blanket off his head, dropping behind your neck to pull you in, and your hands found their way to his thighs, then to the curve of his jaw. His lips parted just enough, and your pulse jumped as he moved against you.
His hands slid to your waist. He lifted you slightly and shifted you into his lap in one smooth motion. You were now straddling him, knees on either side of his thighs, and he didn’t stop kissing you, not even for a second.
The kiss grew stronger. He tilted his head, hand moving to your chin to pull you even closer, his mouth parting yours with a low inhale as his tongue brushed against yours.
Your hands moved back down, gripping at the soft cotton of his hoodie, when—
Click.
The lights flickered on.
You both froze.
Your faces were still inches apart.
You slowly pulled back, still on his lap. He blinked, eyes searching yours like he wasn’t sure what just happened. Like part of him wanted to keep going, and the other part… couldn’t believe you just kissed him like that.
You stared at each other, the silence heavy now.
His hands were still resting lightly on your waist. Yours were still fisted in the fabric of his hoodie. Both of you breathless.
“I need to go back home,” Sunghoon said suddenly, voice low but rushed. His eyes darted everywhere except at you.
You blinked. “Right. Of course!” you said quickly, nodding way too fast. “Yeah. No—totally.”
He shifted awkwardly underneath you, face flushing as he cleared his throat and muttered, “Probably… need a pillow or something.”
It took you a second.
Then you saw the way he was subtly covering his lap with the edge of the blanket.
“Oh.” Your voice came out small. You quickly scrambled off his lap, cheeks burning so hot they could’ve powered your apartment during the blackout.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, already halfway to your door.
And then, Sunghoon stormed out of your apartment.
-
It had been a couple of days since you last properly spoke to Sunghoon. Not for lack of trying. You had…more than once. But each time, he’d give you a quick nod, maybe a polite smile if you were lucky, before promptly power-walking away.
Maybe he just wasn’t feeling what you were feeling. Maybe that kiss was a fluke, something in the heat of the moment. Maybe your little new crush was painfully one-sided.
But you pushed it aside. You had bigger things to focus on.
Jungwon was coming today.
You’d spent the entire morning rearranging your apartment, cleaning it from top to bottom, fluffing cushions and spraying perfume not just on yourself but into the air like it could somehow mask how nervous you were. You even did your hair the way he liked it, soft curls and a side part.
And then, there he was.
The door swung open and your best friend stood in the hallway, suitcase in hand and a grin already on his face.
“WON!” you squealed, running up to him and leaping into his arms.
“Hello, idiot,” he said, his voice fond as he hugged you back, lifting you off the ground with ease.
The shout must’ve startled the boys in 3C, because right on cue, the door across the hall creaked open and out came Jake and Jay, both peeking out.
They spotted you clinging to Jungwon like a koala.
You beamed. “Guys! It’s him!”
“The famous Jungwon,” Jay said, nodding in approval as he stepped out.
“And you must be Jake and Jay,” Jungwon said smoothly, setting you down.
Then came the third.
Sunghoon.
He didn’t move from the doorway. Just stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Jungwon turned to him, a friendly smile still on his lips, chuckling. “You must be Sunghoon, then.”
Sunghoon’s gaze narrowed slightly. “What’s so funny?”
Jungwon blinked, caught off guard. “Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “She just… told me you were like this.”
“Like what?” Sunghoon asked sharply, the scoff nearly audible in his tone.
Jungwon scratched the back of his neck. “Nothing. She just said you were cool,” he said with a shrug, throwing you a teasing look.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes.
You stood there, suddenly awkward, unsure what the hell had crawled up Sunghoon’s ass. The hostility was as thick as the tension in the air and you hadn’t done anything. Not really.
At least you didn’t think you had.
Just stood there, arms crossed, a stiff expression on his face while Jake and Jay welcomed Jungwon like he was already part of the group. Jungwon, ever the social butterfly, fit in easily, throwing a few jokes around, complimenting the apartment despite its questionable decor, and even teasing Jake about the ugly dinosaur pyjamas he was wearing in broad daylight.
But Sunghoon?
He was frowning the entire time.
You couldn’t figure it out. His jaw was tight, his responses were clipped, and every time Jungwon so much as glanced your way, you saw Sunghoon’s eye twitch.
You walked back to your apartment with Jungwon beside you, chatting excitedly about dinner plans and all the places he wanted to visit during his stay. But when you turned back, just for a second, you caught Sunghoon still watching. Still standing in the hallway.
His arms were still crossed.
And he didn’t look away.
-
Sunghoon stood there, arms folded across his chest like they were the only things keeping him together. He stared ahead blankly, jaw tight, doing everything in his power not to glare a hole through the wall. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling.
Sure, he knew he had a crush on you. He’d known since the chicken pot pie, probably. Or maybe since you wrapped that blanket around his shoulders. Or maybe long before that. But what he didn’t know was who the fuck Jungwon was, and why he was walking into your apartment.
“Dude,” Jake muttered, throwing him a sideways look. “You could’ve at least smiled.”
“I did,” Sunghoon growled, not bothering to hide his scowl.
Jay snorted. “That was barely a smile. You looked like you were in the middle of passing a kidney stone.”
“Why do I even have to be nice?” Sunghoon snapped. “I don’t know him.”
“Because your crush’s boyfriend just came into town,” Jake replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Sunghoon's head snapped to him so fast you’d think he got whiplash. “Boyfriend?”
Jay raised a brow. “Not denying the crush though.”
Sunghoon ignored him. “Let me ask you again. Boyfriend?”
Jake shrugged. “I mean… yeah, I guess?”
“What the fuck do you mean you guess?” Sunghoon hissed, dragging a hand down his face. “He can’t be her boyfriend.”
“But he is,” Jay said with a shrug and an infuriatingly smug smile.
“No, he’s not. He can’t be. Because she and I…” he paused, realising too late what was about to fall out of his mouth. “…kissed. Three nights ago.”
Jake’s mouth dropped open. Jay blinked.
“I’m sorry, what?” Jake finally blurted.
“Nothing,” Sunghoon muttered quickly, suddenly desperate to eat his words.
“You can’t say nothing when you just said everything!” Jake shouted, grabbing Sunghoon’s shoulders and shaking him.
“Tell us right now!” Jay begged dramatically, gripping his own hair.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, flustered. “I—we—kissed. That’s it.”
Jay blinked. “You know we were kidding about the boyfriend thing, right?”
Jake grinned. “Jungwon’s just her best friend.”
“We just wanted to see if you’d admit you liked her,” Jay added, eyes sparkling with way too much joy. “Which you did.”
“No, I didn’t,” Sunghoon argued weakly. “I just said we kissed.”
“Okay, Mr Visceral Reaction every time we mention Jungwon,” Jake teased.
Jay smirked. “Say it. Say you like her.”
Sunghoon groaned, eyes shut tight as if the ceiling could swallow him whole. Then, finally—quietly, begrudgingly—
“Okay. So what if I like her?”
Jay and Jake immediately turned to each other with identical gasps, smacking each other’s arms excitedly.
“Oh my god, he admitted it,” Jay whispered dramatically.
Jake clutched his chest. “It’s happening.”
“You guys are disgusting,” Sunghoon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And if you keep acting like this, I’m never telling you anything again.”
“Okay, okay.” Jake raised both hands, trying to suppress a grin. “We’ll behave.”
“BUT I’M SO EXCITED,” Jay squealed.
Jake smacked him on the shoulder. “Starting now.”
Jay nodded solemnly, rubbing his arm. “Sorry. That one slipped.”
Sunghoon sighed and leaned against the counter, arms crossed again. “I started liking her last month… when you guys went back home for the week. She cooked me stir-fried noodles, and we ate together. Played FIFA. I don’t know. I just… developed a crush on her.”
“That’s so cute,” Jay and Jake said in unison, stars in their eyes.
“Seriously, can the two of you act normal for like three minutes?”
Jake shrugged, still smiling. “I just didn’t expect you to have a girlfriend before me.”
Jay patted his shoulder. “You’ll get there, buddy.”
Jake tilted his head. “You think?”
“Yeah, you have nice eyes. Great personality.”
Jake beamed. “That’s so kind.”
“Can we please get back to my problem for like a minute?” Sunghoon cut in, glaring at both of them.
“Oh. Right.”
Jay cleared his throat and finally looked serious. “Look. We like her. She’s hilarious, and she makes good fucking food. And let’s be real, you’ve never liked anyone. We’ve been trying to get you to double date with us for years and you just stare at your phone all the time. But with her? You’re like... a guy with actual feelings.”
“But now I’m losing to Jung… whatever his name is.” Sunghoon sighed.
“Jungwon,” Jake said. “And no, you’re not.”
“How do you know she doesn’t like him?” Sunghoon muttered, staring down at the floor.
“Because,” Jay said, “if she did, she wouldn’t have kissed you.”
“Unless she’s indecisive or confused or something. I don’t know.” Sunghoon exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I was just… a moment. And he’s her person.”
Jake shook his head. “I’m telling you—just talk to her.”
“Yeah,” Jay added. “Before you spiral even harder and start writing love songs about her. But if you do, I haved like a couple of guitars you could borrow.”
Sunghoon rolled his eyes. But somewhere, deep down… a part of him hoped they were right.
-
You were pacing back and forth on your cheap IKEA rug, while Jungwon was laid out dramatically on your bed, arms folded behind his head, thoroughly enjoying the show.
“I’m telling you, he’s avoiding me,” you snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at no one in particular. “We kissed—KISSED, Jungwon—and now he won’t even look at me! I wave, he nods. I say hi, he nods. I breathe in his direction, he—guess what—nods!”
Jungwon hummed, annoyingly calm. “Maybe he’s nervous. Or maybe he wants you to go to him.”
“I do go to him! And then he speed-walks away like I’m the plague!” You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples. “I’m gonna lose it.”
“Maybe…” he tapped his chin thoughtfully, “you’re just a shit kisser.”
You whipped around and chucked a throw pillow directly at his smug face.
“Asshole.”
He caught it with a grin, clutching it to his chest dramatically. “I’m just saying. Maybe you scared him off.”
“You’re lucky I haven’t strangled you with this blanket,” you muttered, grabbing another pillow just in case.
Jungwon sat up, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “You know, sometimes I forget we grew up together because you’re so unpredictable now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He snorted. “You used to be fearless. Remember that Heeseung guy you had a crush on in middle school?”
You blinked. “What about him?”
“You were six, and you walked up to him at recess, said ‘I like your lunchbox,’ then kissed his cheek and ran off.”
“Ah,” you said flatly, “the good old days. That girl’s dead now.”
“She’s not dead,” Jungwon argued, grabbing your wrists and tugging you to sit beside him on the bed. “She’s just… overthinking everything. Look, if Sunghoon doesn’t like you—whatever. But if he does? You’re missing out just because you’re too chicken to tell him.”
You glared. “I hate it when you make sense.”
“I know.” He grinned. “It’s my worst trait.”
“I just—” you exhaled, flopping back beside him. “What if it ruins everything? We literally just got closer. What if I say something and it all goes to shit?”
“Okay, counter-offer.” He sat up straighter. “You tell him, or I will. I will walk down the hallway, knock on his door, and go ‘Hi, my best friend has feelings for you, she also has performance anxiety but can cook a great bowl of chicken noodle soup.’”
“You wouldn’t,” you hissed, swatting at his arm.
“Then do it yourself!” he laughed, dodging your attacks. “Before I start printing flyers and pasting them in the apartment lobby.”
God. Why did he always have to be right?
“Fine.”
Your hand was already on the doorknob, breath caught in your throat, just about to leave when the door across from yours had swung open at the exact same time.
And there he was.
Sunghoon.
You both froze, hands still gripping the doorknobs, blinking.
You cleared your throat first. “Sunghoon.”
He blinked like he hadn’t already been staring. “What?”
You squinted. “Is that the only word you know how to say when I call your name?”
He paused. “Sorry.”
You opened your mouth to say something else but were rudely interrupted by muffled snorts from behind Sunghoon. Jay and Jake’s heads popped out from their doorway like nosy meerkats.
“Hoon,” Jay said in a loud, exaggerated voice, “we need more eggs.”
“Desperately,” Jake added, nodding like this was a national emergency. “Go to the store.”
Then Jungwon peeked out from behind you with an equally suspicious grin. “Oh, and while you’re there, can you grab some ice cream too?”
You and Sunghoon looked at each other.
“What is happening right now,” you said flatly.
Before either of you could respond, four hands shoved the both of you toward the elevator. You stumbled in, the doors sliding shut just as Jay yelled out, “Don’t come back without snacks!”
The elevator stopped at your floor.
Your shoulders brushed as you stood side by side, awkwardly watching the floor numbers light up.
Then, finally, you broke it. “About that day—”
Sunghoon shook his head quickly. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell Jungwon.”
You blinked. “What do you mean you won’t tell Jungwon?”
He looked away. “Well, aren’t you like… crushing on him? I wouldn’t want what we did to, you know… ruin your chances or something.”
Your entire face scrunched up. “Won and I? What? Ew. God, no. We’re friends. We grew up together. Thinking about him that way would be like incest or something.”
And just like that, Sunghoon felt like he’d been hit by a shooting star and given a second chance at life. His heart did a full backflip. You were single. You were available.
He couldn’t help it. He smiled.
“Why do you suddenly look so happy?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I’m not.”
“You’re literally smiling.”
“I’m not.”
“We’ve hung out a couple of times and if I’m being honest, I’ve never seen you smile this—”
“Cut it out.” He tried to brush it off, biting back the grin. “I’m just glad.”
“Glad about?”
“Glad that I didn’t ruin your chances,” he said nonchalantly, looking up like he hadn’t just panicked thirty seconds ago.
“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, the golden-orange glow of the sunset casting warmth across his cheekbones. He was handsome. Frustratingly so. “Well… because I actually like this other guy.”
Sunghoon’s smile faltered.
“I haven’t known him that long,” you continued casually, “but he seems cool. I don’t really know much about him yet.”
“That’s… nice.” Sunghoon turned away quickly, jaw tight. He was definitely grimacing. Please don’t let her see that I’m grimacing, he begged internally.
“Yeah, he’s really tall. Really handsome, too.”
“That’s just…” he exhaled. “Great.”
“He doesn’t seem super friendly but he has a big heart. Even if he tries really hard not to show it.”
“Seems like a swell fuckin’ guy,” he muttered bitterly.
“It’s a pity though,” you sighed dramatically, still watching him. “I wish I could get to know him better.”
“Well… anyone’s lucky to get to know you.” He tried to smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I know I am.”
You tilted your head. “Not to mention… he lives really close to me.”
Sunghoon’s eyes darted to you. “He does?”
“Mhm.” You nodded, heartbeat accelerating.
“Like how close?”
You took a slow step toward him. “Like… just across the hall close.”
“Oh.” He blinked. “That close.”
Silence settled in the small elevator. You both just stood there, not looking at each other, tension hanging in the air like humidity.
Then, out of nowhere—
“I’m just saying,” Sunghoon said, dead serious, “but Jake sleeps with the lights on and Jay doesn’t wash his hair as often as you think he does.”
You blinked. “Huh?”
“I sleep normal,” he added quickly. “I wash my hair. I do proper haircare—shampoo, conditioner, mask, mist. I could do your routine too. For you. If you want.”
You stared.
“I can’t cook, but I’ll try. I can figure skate. I can spin twice in the air. Jay and Jake? Not even one spin. Jay can play guitar, Jake can sing but I can spin, okay? Without getting dizzy too.”
“Sunghoon.”
“And those idiots never clean up after eating your food. Jay doesn’t use coasters. Jake never makes his bed.”
“SUNGHOON!”
He looked at you, breathless. “What?”
You stepped forward. Slowly. Then, you mumbled, “It’s you.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I like you.”
And for once, Park Sunghoon had absolutely nothing to say.
“Okay,” he said. “Cool. Okay. I—wow. Okay.”
You raised a brow. “That’s it?”
He nodded dumbly. “No. Yes. I don’t know. I just—holy shit. You like me.”
You smirked, the smile slowly stretching across your face. “Yes. I like you.”
The elevator dinged. Neither of you moved.
He looked at you again, still dazed. “Hold on, I kinda need a minute.”
You both stepped out into the empty lobby. The sun outside had just dipped below the skyline, casting a pinkish-orange glow through the glass doors. The streetlights flickered on. But you waited.
“It’s been a minute,” you said.
“I know,” he exhaled, hand raking through his hair. “But you like me back, so I kinda need, like… a long minute.”
“Back?” You grinned, the corners of your mouth lifting all the way to your eyes. “So you like me too?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I thought it was obvious from the, uh… word vomit.”
“Well yeah,” you shrugged. “But I didn’t want to assume. Didn’t wanna be narcissistic.”
“I think even if you were,” he muttered, “I’d still think you were pretty cute.”
You blinked. “Did you just—”
“Gross, I know,” he said quickly, face flushing. “I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”
You laughed. “Yeah. But you kinda can’t take it back now.”
“Fine,” he said, pretending to groan. “You’re cute. Ugh. I said it again.”
-
A MONTH LATER
Jay and Jake found it fundamentally unfair. They were the ones who got close to you first. They were the ones who complimented you, made you laugh, showed up when you needed help. They loved you first or at least, that’s what they told themselves. But here you were, doors locked for the first time in three months, cooking a full-course meal for Sunghoon to celebrate your one-month anniversary.
“You’re not allowed to come,” Sunghoon told them flatly before slamming the door shut.
“But—!” they shouted in unison, already mourning the steak they wouldn’t get to taste.
Word on the hallway was that you were cooking the perfect medium-rare T-bone steak, paired with your signature brown sauce and a vegetable medley so crunchy and flavourful. Meanwhile, Jay and Jake sat hunched on the couch, scrolling through a food delivery app.
“Isn’t it funny,” Jake said, arms folded, “how we were the ones who befriended her first, and now we’re stuck with Burger King?”
“Life’s unfair, bud.”
Back in your apartment, things were a little more romantic. You’d decorated with fairy lights and candles, the room dimly lit. You were still being frugal, splitting every cost you could. But you’d managed to steal two T-bone steaks from the diner you part-timed at.
Sunghoon showed up in a black and white tuxedo, looking like he’d taken the prom theme you had placed as a joke a little too seriously.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.
“And you look absolutely handsome,” you grinned.
He walked over to the table and took in the spread. “Okay, what do we have?”
“I made the steaks, obviously, and then there’s the vegetable medley… and your favourite—mashed potatoes,” you giggled.
Sunghoon exhaled, shaking his head with a disbelieving smile. “How did I get so lucky?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know either.”
He laughed. “The guys are pissed, by the way. You made me all this, and they’re over there with cold fries.”
“What?” you said, surprised. “I made them something too! Don’t worry.”
“You did?” he raised a brow.
“I had a feeling they’d be hungry if you were over here.”
“Babe, you didn’t have to do that. They’re grown men.”
“Yeah, but technically my assignment this week was pasta and I have too many leftovers.”
“They’re spoiled by you.”
“And so are you.”
“True, but I’m your boyfriend. They’re just two annoying shitheads constantly trying to butt in.”
“I’ll be quick. I’ll just drop the dish off and come back.”
“No,” he said, standing. “I’ll do it. You stay here.”
He kissed your forehead, grabbing the lasagna you’d tucked into the fridge. “You’re too sweet, you know that?”
“He walked across the hall and opened the door to Unit 3C.
Inside, Jay was mid-rant. “I just don’t get it. Sunghoon isn’t even that hot.”
“I mean, he is,” Jake added, “but she deserves better, you know?”
Sunghoon cleared his throat. “I can hear you two idiots.”
They both froze, turning around sheepishly. “We were just joking. We love you, man.”
He held up the dish. “And to think I came here bearing gifts from my girlfriend.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “Wait—is that lasagna?”
“She felt bad we were eating good without you, so she made you dinner.”
“Oh my god,” Jay gasped. “Sunghoon, I don’t mean to be pushy, but please marry her.”
“I can’t,” Sunghoon muttered. “Not when you two are constantly inserting yourselves into my relationship.”
“Okay, okay, we’ll back off. Just—can we have the lasagna?”
“And can you tell her we love her?”
“I am not telling my girlfriend you love her,” Sunghoon snapped. “I’ve barely worked up the nerve to tell her that myself.”
“Wait,” Jake said suddenly, “you haven’t told her you love her yet?”
“It’s only been a month.”
“So… you don’t love her?”
“I do,” Sunghoon replied, almost too quickly. “I just don’t want to come on too strong if she’s not ready.”
Jay and Jake shared a glance before shrugging.
“What?” Sunghoon asked, frowning. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Jake cleared his throat. “It’s just… she already said it.”
Sunghoon looked up. “What?”
“Yeah,” Jake replied casually. “You texted her about picking up those heat packs for her cramps, and she went all soft and whispered, ‘God, I love him so much.’ Her words. Not mine.”
Sunghoon stood frozen in the doorway, the dish in his hands suddenly weightless.
You loved him.
“So… you’re saying I should tell her?” he asked, voice quiet, almost unsure.
Jay and Jake both nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely. Especially if it makes her our sister-in-law,” Jay added, grinning.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “God, the two of you can be so annoying.”
“But you still love us,” Jay shrugged. “So what’s the point of complaining?”
He hated that Jay was right.
Back in your apartment, Sunghoon sat across from you, completely transfixed. You were dressed in a soft pink satin dress that shimmered every time you moved. It hugged your shoulders delicately, the neckline simple, elegant. Your hair was curled softly, pinned loosely on one side with a vintage clip, and your lips were glossed just enough to make him stare longer than he should’ve.
And God, you looked so beautiful.
He tried to pay attention. He really did. But his heart was too loud, his thoughts too full. How was he supposed to say it?
Sunghoon had never told anyone he loved them before. Not seriously. Maybe to his mom years ago, right before he left for the city. But this? This felt entirely new.
Because sitting in front of him was someone who made every quiet part of his life feel loud again. You filled in the spaces he didn’t even know were missing. You made his apartment feel less cold, his world a little less grey. And the way he loved you—God, it wasn’t something small. It wasn’t a flicker or a passing crush. It was all-consuming and terrifying and the best damn thing he’d ever felt.
He loved you like it was muscle memory. Like even if he forgot everything else, his hands would still reach for yours and only yours.
“Hoonie,” you interrupted gently, frowning. “You’re not listening.”
He blinked back into focus. “Sorry,” he murmured, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was just thinking about something.”
“What?” you looked up at him, ur big eyes shining.
Sunghoon unknowingly smiled, his eyes dripping with honey, god he loved you. He wanted to say that. So badly.
“I…I just–uh–feel…that,” His voice trailed off. “You look really beautiful tonight. I mean, you always do. But especially tonight.” He hesitated, the words stuck behind his teeth.
You smiled. “Thank you. You look very handsome too.”
-
Later that night, the two of you were in Sunghoon’s apartment along with Jay and Jake for the usual game night.
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, your prom-night dress bunched awkwardly around your knees, mascara slightly smudged from earlier laughter, hair pinned half-up. Sunghoon sat slouched in the beanbag beside you, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in concentration. Jake was lying on his stomach, legs swinging in the air, and Jay had somehow made himself horizontal on the couch.
You and Jake were a team. Sunghoon and Jay were not handling that well.
“Revive me!” Sunghoon yelled.
Jay shouted back, “I’m busy trying not to die, dumbass!”
Button mashing intensified. Trash talk flew across the room.
“VICTORY!” Jake screamed, leaping up like a madman.
You followed suit, springing to your feet and clambering up onto the coffee table in your dress. “GET WRECKED, LOSERS!” you yelled, pointing dramatically at Sunghoon. “THAT’S RIGHT, LOSERS!”
Jake joined you on the table, doing a badly timed robot dance. The two of you jumped in sync, yelling in triumph, while Jay groaned into a throw pillow and Sunghoon watched with a hand covering his mouth, half to hide his smile, half to suppress a laugh.
“You’re all bark, no bite!” you called, face flushed, hair falling loose. “Your character died fourteen times, Hoonie.”
“I let you win!” he shot back, grinning as he sat up straighter. “I was being a gentleman.”
“Sure,” you scoffed, sticking your tongue out at him. “Real chivalrous of you, sir died-14-fucking-times.”
He chuckled under his breath, eyes lingering on you for a second longer than usual. Then, without a word, he stood and walked out of the room.
You blinked. That was...odd.
You gave Jake a gentle shove off the table and followed Sunghoon into the hallway. He was pacing outside, one hand in his hair, the other fiddling with the watch on his wrist.
“Hoon?” you asked, stepping out and gently closing the door behind you.
He jumped slightly, turning toward you. “You scared me.”
“You okay? You just left so sudden…”
“I—uh—yeah. I was just trying to figure out how to say something.”
You tilted your head, arms crossing over your chest. “Say what?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled with a shrug.
Your expression softened. “Are you mad at me?” You sighed. Maybe your little victory dance had been a bit much. “Hoonie?”
“No, baby, I could never be mad at you,” he said quickly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just…”
You stepped closer, teasing lightly, “Do you want me to redo my victory dance? I could. You just have to beatbox, and I’ll take it from there.”
That made him laugh.
“Come on,” you grinned, starting to move your body in the most ridiculous way. “I’m pretty sure I should’ve been a dancer instead of a chef.”
He laughed again, this time louder and then, before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.
“Oh my god, I love you.”
You blinked. Your smile faded. Your brain, for one impossible second, completely short-circuited.
“Did you just say you love me?” you asked, heart hammering.
His eyes widened in sheer panic. “No?”
“I heard it.”
“You misheard.”
“Oh my god,” you gasped, practically vibrating. “You love me. You love me!”
“Fine!” he burst out, throwing his hands up like he was under arrest. “I do! I love you, okay?”
You smiled, “You do?”
“Of course! I love the way you talk too fast when you’re excited. I love how you make my idiot friends feel like they matter. I love that you make me feel whole. That when I’m with you, I don’t feel hollow anymore. You… you make me feel like I’m not empty.”
You grinned so wide it hurt. “That’s because you’re not.”
“I used to be,” he said helplessly, gesturing vaguely like he was mourning his past self. “I was mysterious. Brooding. Sexy, even. And now? Now I smile at cat videos you send me on TikTok. Look what you’ve done to me. This is all your fault.”
You scoffed, “My fault?”
“Yes! Who else could it be?” he said, breathless, like the truth had been waiting at the edge of his tongue for too long. “You walk into my life with that stupidly perfect smile, that laugh that makes everything feel lighter, those eyes that somehow hold the whole damn sky and now I’ve got feelings. Big ones.”
He took a shaky breath, pausing for a minute.
“I used to think I was fine on my own. But now? I get out of bed just because I know I might see you. I hear your knock and my whole day lights up. For the first time, I feel like I know what living really means. It’s you. Loving you. That’s it.”
You leaned in and kissed him right in the middle of his rant.
He blinked, dazed.
“You sure talk a lot for someone who usually says nothing,” you murmured, forehead resting against his.
“I do it when I’m nervous,” Sunghoon whispered, and then kissed you again.
“I find it cute,” you mumbled between kisses.
Sunghoon grinned into the next kiss, backing you up step by step toward your apartment door, his hands finding your waist. “God,” kiss “I love you,” another kiss “so much.”
You let out a breathless laugh. “You’re very handsy for someone who claimed to be brooding and mysteriou.”
“I told you,” he whispered, lips brushing your jaw as he reached behind you, fumbling for the door handle, “you ruined me.”
Your back hit the door with a thud. He fumbled with the knob like he was drunk on you, eventually pushing it open and guiding you inside.
He kicked the door shut with the back of his foot.
You were still laughing into his kiss. He walked you backward until your knees hit the bed and you dropped onto it with a squeak.
He climbed over you, hands on either side of your waist, face flushed, heart in his throat.
“I fucking love you,” he said again, like it wasn’t real until he repeated it.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, eyes sparkling. “I love you too.”
want to meet more writers and make friends? want to get involved in the caratblr writing community? svthub is looking for new members, and we might just be the place for you!
.∿⊹﹟ are you ready to join us ?
if you . . .
✔️ are an adult 21+
✔️ write seventeen fanfiction
✔️ reblogged this post
✔️ have read our rules and guidelines
. . . then you're ready to fill out our membership application form! we can't wait to meet you!
𐙚 𓈒 𓈒 SYNOPSIS ) ; after a throwaway statement from heeseung, you can't help but notice your best friend jake in ways you've never noticed before. even worse, things get complicated when sunghoon gets added to the mix
PAIRING ) — college!jake x fem!reader ₊ fluff, humor
WC ) — 2.2k+
INCOMING MSG ) — ding ! i took a mini hiatus but i'm back !! i can't wait to post more this summer >< if anyone has any requests, feel free to drop them through asks ♡
“cute necklace, y/n.” heeseung drops into the seat next to you and you slide your bag over to the left to accommodate him. you lean your bag against jake who is sitting to your left, and he uses the opportunity to steal a sip from your drink.
with the professor already rambling away about quantum mechanics, you struggle to pay any sliver of attention to heeseung’s words as he continues to yap. “where did you get them from?”
muffling a yawn, you absentmindedly reach up to caress the star dangling from your neck. the sharp indents prick you back into a memory. “oh, these. they were a gift from a friend.”
“oh, a friend? or do you mean your boyfriend?”
you faintly hear jake choking on the drink but your attention is quickly stolen by heeseung’s words.
they’re throwaway, that much is obvious from his wandering eyes to his wide yawn as he pulls out his laptop. they shouldn’t mean anything yet your face warms despite yourself. shaking your head furiously, you exclaim, “a friend! just a friend."
he hums, raising an eyebrow as he spares you a quick glance. his gaze flickers somewhere behind you for a second and you would have looked too if his next words didn’t pull you back. “come to think of it, i don’t think you’ve ever told me what your type was.”
“my type?” your mind blanks.
“like what you look for in a person.”
“i know what a type is.” you quip back, hoping the playful hostility can hide your sudden surprise.
“then why do you look so disgruntled?” he turns on his laptop, ignoring the loud whirring that blares. “don’t tell me it’s someone like me?”
that causes you to scoff. “definitely not, i’ve known you since you were five.”
heesung continues to stare at you, pressing you wordlessly and you give in, finally surrendering more thought to his question.
"i mean, i guess, maybe someone good-looking? someone who’s… not boring? and now that we're talking about it, someone who is fit and athletic too. they’d have to be smart but not in a i-don’t-have-fun kind of way. like in a cute way." the more you think of it, the more words seem to spill from your mouth. "and someone who has a good sense of humor, someone who will make me laugh.”
“someone good looking, interesting, sporty, smart and funny? that’s too greedy.”
you chuckle quietly, muffling the sound as the professor spins around to glare at someone else talking. “you’re right, there’s no way there’s anyone that perfect. i guess i’ll have to be single forever.”
“you'll always have me.” heeseung says, grinning.
“don’t be stupid.”
“or—hear me out—your type kinda sounds like jake.”
“okay, now i know you’re actually stupid.”
“come on, you two—”
your voice is a harsh whisper when you chide, “will you shut up already? he’s sitting right there!”
“you two have been friends for years.” he matches your volume this time, to your relief. “you’re telling me you’re friends with your exact type and haven’t felt any sort of way about him?”
you make a face and shove him playfully. you open your mouth to say more—a jab at heeseung’s own lovelife instead—when a piece of chalk cuts through the air and faintly skims past your nose. you turn back with a start and make eye contact with a very angry professor, his bald head shining in the light.
“is there something you’d like to share with the class?”
you let out a strangled squeak, sinking into your seat as heeseung chuckles beside you.
“no, sir.”
when the lecture hall finally moves on from your show of embarrassment, you turn away to pretend to busy yourself with your bag. when you come back up, positive that your face has cooled off such that you can almost look presentable again, your eyes accidentally meet with jake’s.
there’s an unreadable expression on his face, eyes wide and unfocused as he stares at you. feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, you quickly look away and sink down into your chair yet you struggle to completely ignore him. you watch from your peripherals as he looks away, sunghoon whispering something into his ear and chuckling though he seems to not be having it, swatting him away like a fly.
seeing his face made you think. maybe heeseung was right, didn’t jake match your type criteria? someone attractive, interesting, athletic and smart?
with a start, you look back at heeseung. “and someone calm. someone with manners.”
“well-mannered and calm. what insane preferences.” heeseung chuckles. “are there any more?"
the professor slams his hand on the table a few times, reluctantly drawing your attention back to the front.
your previous conversation dies and twiddles away into the background, overtaken by droning lectures and forced groupwork. your conversation with heeseung quickly slips from mind as you’re lost in the mountain of work.
when you enter the lecture hall the next day, you’re surprised to find jake already there and seated at the same spot. it seems like you’re the only two people there and you awkwardly take your seat next to him. you had arrived early to avoid the early morning rush but you wondered what his excuse was.
“good morning.” you mumble, flashing him a small smile. you take the chance to observe him, frowning slightly when you watch him push up his glasses as he continues to read a heavy chemistry textbook.
since when did he wear glasses?
his eyes flicker to yours as you unpack. “good morning.”
“what’s with you?”
jake clears his throat. “what ever do you mean?”
your frown transitions to a grimace. “why are you talking like that? did you break something of mine? was it my DS, jake i told you to take good care of it!”
“i am taking care of it! it’s fine!” he exclaims before pausing uncharacteristically. he sits back in his chair and turns back to his book. “i mean, it’s fine.”
“you sure?”
“i am.”
you narrow your eyes before looking away, turning on your laptop. “it better be. i need to run pokemon black on that. when are you going to finish using it?”
“soon. i’m almost finished with the elite four. my party is basically set, i was just waiting to finish an assessment before i grind it and…” he trails off suddenly, the animated look on his face fading. he clears his throat, pushing up his glasses somewhat clumsily. “i mean, if that’s what you wish i shall return it to you as soon as possible.”
you turn to him horrified. “so you did break my DS!”
“i said it’s not broken!” jake bursts. another pause. he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. “i’m simply being considerate.”
you stare at him and watch as he fidgets under your gaze. “are you feeling sick? did you eat something wrong? why are you talking like that?”
“i’m not sick. what part of me looks sick?"
“hey, no need to get defensive. i’m just saying you’re usually not this…” you watch him as you wrack your brain, trying to find a word to describe this situation. “c…”
jake leans forward. “yes?”
“crazy.”
he falls back in his chair, groaning, textbook forgotten and placed harshly down on the table with a thud.
you tilt your head. “where's hoon? you guys didn’t come to class together? don’t tell me you fought.”
jake peers up and frowns. “no, can i not show up to class early just because i feel like it?”
“it would be extremely out of character, yeah.” you rest your chin on your hand as you watch jake mutter to himself, his jaw jutted out and his nose scrunched.
he was clearly unhappy, it didn’t take a scholar to know. it might take a genius to figure out why though.
you had time to kill, might as well take up the challenge. maybe he hadn’t had his morning dose of sugar yet, or maybe his favorite anime had delayed its upcoming episode. maybe he didn't save properly on the new game he was playing, or maybe he simply didn't sleep well last night. or maybe he had lied to you and he had fought with sunghoon, leading to this strange attitude.
the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. the way he was acting now was like a mockery to sunghoon’s usual behavior.
“are you trying to be like hoon?” you try.
jake whirs around to face you. “what?”
“well, you’re trying to be all, what was that word you used earlier? more considerate.” he keeps staring at you and you clear your throat. “like more well-mannered. more calm.”
jake remains silent but you watch as his jaw drops. you think that he might say something but then his mouth closes, only to open again.
jake’s speechless, what a sight. but as good of a sight as it was, you were beginning to feel concerned.
“are you sure you’re alright? what did you eat yesterday?”
he doesn’t register your question. “you think sunghoon is well-mannered?”
“well, yes?”
“and calm?”
you nod. “at least more than you.”
“do you think he’s interesting too? sporty? smart? funny?” he pauses. “good-looking?”
the questions throw you off guard and you sit up. “what? where is this coming from?”
“oh my god, you do.”
“no? i mean, i think hoon’s great and everything—”
“you think sunghoon’s great?”
“don’t you?”
“you think sunghoon’s hot.” he concludes. “and you think sunghoon’s great.”
"i didn’t say all of that! why are you putting words in my mouth?"
"i don't know. why don't you tell me?"
flushing, you flail for words. “are you… are you jealous of sunghoon? i thought you guys were past things like that!”
jake grits his teeth and looks away. with a pout, he says, “i am not jealous of sunghoon.”
the door to the lecture room is thrown open and sunghoon steps through, rubbing the back of his neck. he yawns on his way to his chair and it wakes him up, looking between you and jake as you both watch him enter.
“what did you guys do?” he asks with a sigh.
“nothing!”
“nothing.” jake says and glares at him.
sunghoon blinks.
“okay.” he says slowly, sliding out his chair and sitting. “what did i do then? why are you both looking at me like that?”
“jake’s being weird.” you snitch. “are you guys fighting?”
“how should i know? i thought we were doing okay. jake, if i did something, use your words and tell me.”
"i'll use my words to tell you to suck my dick instead."
"so i did do something. you're so predictable, jake."
you snicker as jake huffs and glances away, intent on ignoring sunghoon’s pestering.
subconsciously, you drown sunghoon out too, your traitorous mind observing jake’s eyes. you had always thought it was just a neutral brown, but looking at it now, it seemed more like amber dripping like honey, the chocolate hue sparkling and dimming as the lights flickered overhead, and you watched the light dance through his eyes.
something shifts and it’s not just the aircon suddenly turning on. something like realisation dawns on you though you have no time to come to terms with your new thought when jake turns to look at you. startled, you hold his gaze and he holds it too, just long enough for your lungs to run out of air.
you look away hastily and inhale.
jake glances to the front, oddly fidgety.
sunghoon looks between the two of you. “what the fuck was that?”
“nothing.” jake says.
sunghoon clearly doesn't buy it but though he tries to get an answer out of you, you don't give him one. cupping your cheeks, your thoughts mirror his question. what was that? it was embarrassing, that's what it was, and your realization is only heightened as a silence fills all four corners of the classroom.
jake clears his throat. “for me, i like someone who i'm already comfortable with. someone i already know.”
at his words, you look over at him and find him already staring. he frowns when you don't give him any other reaction.
your professor saves you from addressing his statement as he walks into the room. unlike every other day, you have no snarky comment to make about his radiant bald spot. your mind fails to work as you turn over jake’s words, thinking them through. what did they mean? what was he talking about? did this weird confession have something to do with why he was acting so strange?
slowly, you draw connections between your conversation with jake and the talk you had with heeseung yesterday morning. an epiphany shoots through you and you cover your mouth to hide a gasp.
did that mean…?
someone he knew? acting strange? getting mad when you said you liked sunghoon?
you watch jake’s side profile, hoping he’d turn around. if what you thought was right, he’d turn.
seconds tick past. your professor’s monotonous voice drawls on and yet jake doesn't even spare you a glance.
no, maybe you were wrong after all.
just as you were about to face your professor again, jake’s head shifts and his eye flicks over to yours. they widen when he finds you, and you’re sure you’re in a similar shocked state.
oh my god, you think, eyes darting between him and the other boy in the room.
SYNOPSIS ) ; being a superhero isn't as easy as it seems, and it's even harder when you're notorious supervillain black cat with a past threatening to catch up with you and a pesky spider that won't leave you alone
WC ) — ~8000 words
GENRE ) — a svt spiderman x jujutsu kaisen au (what a mouthful >< ), spiderman!mingyu, blackcat!reader, lots of banter, mild fighting scenes = mentions of blood and injuries !!, fluff with angst if you squint
INCOMING MSG ) — ding ! this is a purely self indulgent fic connecting all of my silly interests >< but i hope it finds a home with some of you guys as well !
MINGYU HESITATES BEFORE BREAKING THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM.
there’s a stillness in the air only midnight can create after all; none of that grumpy commuting that sounds like impatient honks and trains beeping a warning that the doors will close soon, and none of that bustling joy in the afternoon when highschoolers experience short-lived freedom and workers get off work. there’s only the whistle of the wind, the glow of the moon, and the company shared by two.
spiderman leans back and inhales, drinking in the familiar comfort of night.
“stop that.” you say, breaking the tranquil silence with a soft thud as you land on your feet. sauntering over to his place on the skyscraper, you can’t help but feel on edge at his open vulnerability.
mingyu turns to you and even with the webbed mask you know his lips are curved into a smirk. “stop what?” he asks, as annoying as you remember.
“that.” you gesture vaguely at him sitting on the ledge. one leg dangling over the edge, the other propped up as an armrest, there was really only one word that described him best. “how you’re acting all pretentious. you think you’re a hotshot now just because you got a temporary pass as an avenger?”
“better check where you’re getting your news from because last i heard spiderman is now a permanent addition to the team.” he watches as you huff, stepping closer until you slide onto the lifted ledge too, getting comfortable. “you of all people should know that the morning news isn’t the most credible place to hear about superhero business.”
“oh, don’t patronize me, spider. i have eyes and ears on you everywhere.” the cement is cold through your suit, and you eventually settle for laying down, eyes up to the stars.
looking up at the endless abyss made it easier to delude yourself into thinking you were *only *the black cat, notorious thief and supervillain, rather than a plain jane university student who had a mountain of work to do upon returning home.
robbing the most notorious bank in the city? easy. escaping the biggest prison? piece of cake. fleeing from the strongest superheroes, the strongest police force? all in a day's work, really. but the moment you stripped down from the tight latex suit and adorned your civilian persona again, the faux confidence crumbles around you. the past was easier to forget when you were committing crime and fleeing into the night.
so, the moment you glanced out your window and saw the spiderman symbol illuminated in the night sky, you had rushed out to meet up with him even if you had just been holding a knife to his throat a week ago.
it didn’t matter if you were enemies, it never had and as you basked in the silence his company offered you, you wish it never will. just like how you could slip into your civilian persona, you could just as easily fall back into rhythm with your longtime friend, even if your lives were protected from one another by feeble masks.
“so?” you say to the sky. “what made you drag this kitty out? finally turning to the side of crime and evil, perhaps?”
“is this a personal invitation to come along to one of your famous heists?”
“usually there’s a no pest allowed rule, but i might let it slip if it’s you.”
mingyu laughs, shifting around to sit up. “that’s sweet, cat, but i’ll have to pass. i called you out here because there’s something i need you to do for me."
"if you're asking for a favour, that isn't the right way to go about it."
"i need your help." he tries again.
"you're so close, mingyu. just one more word."
"please?"
this gets you excited, you turn over again, this time resting on your stomach so you can give him your full attention, placing your chin on your palms and kicking your feet in glee. you smile at him through your lashes. “something even the spiderman can’t handle alone? i’m curious, tell me more.”
“i hear curiosity is bad for cats.” spiderman retorts and you scrunch your nose at him in disgust. “but you’re right, i guess i’ll have to tell you what’s going on.”
a second passes before spiderman chuckles, poking your nose. you flinch while he stands up, stretching out his limbs. “but where’s the fun in that?”
your first mistake was allowing your body to relax in his presence. when he reaches out, it’s only your instincts that cause you to roll to your side, leaping to your feet to seek out a counterattack. you lash out hoping for contact but there’s none. when spiderman withdraws his fists, you realize he never intended to hit you.
spiderman holds your whip in your hands.
“what the fuck?”
“if you want this back.” spiderman says. “then you better keep up!”
mingyu turns and runs, leaping off the roof of the building without hearing your response. your reaction was already enough to satisfy him and he lets his glee run loose in a laugh.
you chase after him, after the miraculous sound, clicking your tongue as you begin to pounce from building roof to building, even though you hadn't done your stretches yet. this would certainly come back to bite you the following morning, but in the moment you couldn't help but smile.
"slow down!" you yell over the wind. without your whip, you weren’t able to make the leaps as easily. “you’re cheating, you can sling your webs but i can’t!”
somehow, spiderman hears you. he pauses on the ledge of another skyscraper, this one being a large office block for the jujutsu technology company. turning his back to the drastic drop below, he waits until you slow just a few metres away.
"have you lost your edge?" he taunts, waving your whip in the air. "i swear you were faster than this.”
“cats don’t fly.” you hold out your hand. “and if you’re not careful, spiders might.”
“what does that even mean?”
“i’m going to throw you off this building if you don’t hand that back, spider. you can understand that at the very least, can’t you?”
that stupid mask. you can never gauge his expression beneath it though this time, he doesn’t hide his arrogance at your taunt. he holds your whip up high, lazily spinning it around his finger. “well, aren't you going to grab it?"
you want to laugh at his attempt to make you look pathetic. "spider, you're going to have to do better than that." you say. then, you run at him.
your actions surprise him and he freezes, unsure whether to guard or to remain standing. your arm comes forward and he stretches further up to keep the whip higher, but just before you make a move to grab it, your hands close around the front of his suit.
yanking, you pull him towards you, and then pull yourself off the ledge.
wind rushes past your ear, running through your hair as you fall on your back. the fierce fall almost suffocates the sound of mingyu swearing but it’s loud enough in your ear that you giggle. he manages to whip out his wrist and web an adjacent building, wrapping his other arm around your waist for security. you comfortably lean into his chest, grinning as he fumbles to swing back up.
“i didn’t actually think you’d jump right off!” he curses.
“cats always land on their feet.” you remind him over the wind, leaning in so he can hear. you don’t hesitate to blow into his ear and he jerks away, one hand cupping the side of his face. while he’s temporarily stunned, you yank your whip back into your hands. “i’ll take this back. gross, how did you get it so sweaty already?”
“cute girls make me nervous.” he teases and when you shiver and it isn’t the cold that gives you goosebumps.
"are you flirting with me?" you ask, batting your eyes up at him.
you feel him go rigid against you and through the wind, you hear him say wisely, "uhhhh."
laughing, you squeeze him once before jolting him back to reality. "we're going to hit the ground hard if you don't snap out of it."
spiderman tightens his arm around you as he slings towards a streetlamp, the asphalt road coming closer in focus. he only releases you when he arrives at his stop, the side wall of an alleyway. clearing his throat, he says, "we're here."
you eye the walls, stepping up to peek around one corner and gauge the view. looking up, you gaze up at a large isolated structure on a raised hill and recognise its design on many blueprints you have thrown about in your office. “the going museum? oh spider, you shouldn’t have! how did you know this was going to be my next big hit?”
spiderman’s face scrunches and you have the pleasure of watching his mask wrinkle at his brow. “i’m starting to regret this.”
“didn’t you need my help? to win some, you have to lose some.”
he watches you for a second before sighing. “just make sure i don’t lose too much.”
you nod but give no verbal agreement. sensing this was the furthest you could relent, he lets out another sigh and says, “i need you to help me take something from here.”
“take?” you repeat, slowly.
“steal.”
“good boy.” you grin. “and this thing is?”
spiderman mutters something, rubbing his temples. “a painting. a big one, like, about this big. gold frame, there’s a woman in there somewhere and it looks old, all grays and browns, you know?”
“i knew someone like you would never have an eye for art.”
“that’s why i’m glad to have you here.”
“flattery won’t compensate for your lack of details. there’s probably a million portraits of women in that museum, spider. can’t you offer me a little more? who is the artist, is it well known, what time period exactly is old?” even before you finished your sentence, spiderman was groaning and waving you away.
“trust me.” he says, and it’s funny because you never will. “you’ll know it when you see it.”
your mind whirls as you recall the timely pieces you had reviewed when studying the going museum but truly, his description left much to be desired. you could only bookmark some thoughts on where to look first, hoping that fate would guide you. mingyu gives you no time to come to peace with this thought. he gestures up to the building, to its impressive lights seen from miles away, and, was that a helicopter or two circling the roof? “there’s no point anyway in talking about the painting when we’re not even there yet.”
“you sure you're not turning to a life of crime?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"feeling nervous?" mingyu responds, leaning in close. "if it's something you can't handle, i can always call in someone else."
you push him back. "and for the record, i'm not doing this because you provoked me."
you palm the brick wall and heave yourself up using its shallow ledges. looking down, you see mingyu follow after you, fingertips pressed flat against the brick. once he catches you looking, he peels off one hand and lounges around, tilting his head up at you. you huff, turning away.
show off.
you flip up the last distance and stand on the roof. “you dropped us off miles away, spider. where’s our ride?”
he climbs up easily and stands before you, arms open wide. if you yanked off his mask, you’re sure to find a wide beam. “right here!”
staring at him, you let time tick by. “where?”
“here!” he gives his arms a little shake. “the flight before was a preview. come on, a little skinship isn’t making you nervous, is it?”
gritting your teeth, you ignore the chill that runs its course through you as you take a step, not a tentative one just a normal, calm, normal step, towards him. this was suddenly much more embarrassing now that you weren’t plummeting from the sky. where did you have your arms around him again?
thankfully, mingyu jumps to help and wraps his arm around your waist first, slotting comfortably against you. awkwardly, you swing an arm around his neck and pretend you can’t feel your own heartbeat thumping dramatically against your ribcage.
“if they spot us, it’s over.” his voice is loud in your ear. “for our reputation, at least. you sure you want to go through with this? i mean, i know i asked you to come but–”
“trust me, nothing will go wrong if you have me around.”
“just like we used to, then?”
“obviously.” you wish he would just go. “can you just go already?”
spiderman flexes his fingers and cranes his neck. peering over his shoulder, he gives you one last look. “quiet as a cat?”
“sneaky as a spider.”
he slings forward and you’re taken right after him, wind blowing through your hair and against your flushed skin. spiderman’s webs find themselves secure against the sides of walls and within the darkness of night, until they begin to scale up the small cluster of trees up the hill. miraculously, nothing seems to touch you or rather, you feel nothing but the warm human touch of his body pressed up against yours, and you have to remind yourself again that he was the enemy.
eventually, he slows to a stop at the outskirts of the museum, where the trees offer just enough protection from the searching lights. you pull yourself from his hold, not even daring to clear your throat and regain composure, instead making quick work of the distance to the entrance and dodging the helicopters as they swept the ground from above.
it was almost child's play, a familiar dance between two people.
if this was the best security the city of shibuya had to offer, it was no wonder theft and crime rates were so high. you couldn't help but feel a growing doubt at mingyu's intentions.
the thought is quickly pushed to the back of your mind as you approach the back door where two guards stands. one yawns, no doubt affected by the late hours of the night.
spiderman crouches beside you. "well?"
"it's two guards, spider. don't tell me you're scared."
"i just thought we should have some fun." he whispers, voice muffled by his mask. he picks a small pebble up off the guard and peg it at one of them. unfortunately, he misses, and it clatters on the ground by their feet.
the security guards perk up at the noise, but it’ll be a while before you lose your touch. leaping forward, you sweep out your feet and catch the security guard on the right. he falls forward, arms flailing about in an attempt to regain balance, though you'll never let him. you swing your leg around and punch the heel of your shoe across his face.
the guard makes a startled sound against the sole of your boots, before falling limp on the guard. perhaps you went soft on him because he slips back into reality, eyes bleary as he eyes his attacker. "you!" he hisses, struggling to get on his feet.
“i've always liked my men a little pathetic.” you wipe the bloodstain beneath his nose tenderly, other hand holding down his chest. "though you're a little too much for me." with a smile, you lift your fish and slam it into his face. this time, the guard truly slips into deep sleep.
turning around, you notice spiderman had finished taking out the other guard, the body thrown into a once perfectly trimmed hedge. mingyu looks up at your words. “pathetic?”
“it's easier to keep them on their toes that way.”
"and him." mingyu starts, pointing to your victim on the guard. "did you leave him alive?"
you roll your eyes. "oh spider, i know you're squeamish. don't worry, he'll wake up just fine, maybe with a black eye or two. i know you don't like corpses."
"my saviour. and what luck!" he gestures to the door. "looks like we've found our way in. ladies first."
you dance around the bodies and pull open the door, letting out a gasp when a flying knife narrowly misses your head.
spiderman points to it, wedged into a crate behind you. "okay, i did not know that was going to happen."
"just close your mouth and follow me."
museums were all the same. dim, quiet, and full of goods just waiting to be relocated. usually, the entrance was followed by a reception desk typically lined with one or two people behind the tables, controlling the flow of guests. during closing hours, the main gate is locked but the same can't be said for the staff-only door.
you pull out the staff pass you swiped from the guard earlier, pressing it against the id pad.
spiderman looks around. "should it be this easy?"
you hush him, stepping through into the exhibitions when it's all clear. "usually, it's leaving that's a bit more difficult. you're less flexible when you're carrying a heavy sculpture or heaving around a giant ornate sword."
he hums, uninterested. "i see."
you push him to the side as a torchlight sweeps the door.
another woman in uniform steps through, flicking the torch back and forth around the entrance.
you press yourself against the corner of the wall, holding your breath to mask your presence.
the guard lowers her head towards her walkie-talkie, speaking lowly to people on the other end. "noise at door 2. it's begun, over."
that ball of doubt in your stomach grows but you're forced to ignore it again when you catch a blur of blue and red whizzing towards the center of the museum. considering he had no experience, you found him incredibly overconfident.
something else catches your eye, something shiny, and you look only to look again. a beautiful cabinet stands off to the side, the glass like a mirror reflecting your wide eyes and slightly agape mouth. inside, suspended around a faux neck, is the most beautiful necklace you've ever seen in your life.
the thin gold chain sparkled in the overhead lighting, the intricate red gem dangling from the front, winking at you. it seemed to whisper, pick me, pick me! and you'd be a fool to not listen. your fingers twitch, edging closer.
peeking over your shoulder, you double check your surroundings and find it desolate. your hands find your glass cutter kept in the toolbelt around your waist, and quickly attach it against the glass. drawing a circle, you open a small hole and reach in, closing your fingers around the elegant jewellery.
it's only when you close your fist around it that you begin to feel guilty.
gentle footsteps sound around the corner and you hastily tuck the necklace into your pocket, putting the small circle of glass back into the display case.
"is someone there?" an unfamiliar voice calls out, and you creep into the dark spots of the museum just as the guard from before steps into view. "hello?"
dumbass, you think. she'd be the first to die in a horror movie.
before you can decide whether to knock her or slip past, fate solves your problem for you. as if the shadows themselves were alive, they begin to creep closer and closer and you watch in suspended wonder as they cling onto the guard’s own shadow. it happens so fast, blink and you’ll surely miss it, because one moment the woman is shining a light down the corridors of the hall and the next, something dark and foul arises from the ground and swallows her up. the abyss closes, and it’s only when the gaping hole seals over once more that you realise it was the mouth of a beast.
it licks its lips before disappearing.
"that's the last of it!" someone calls out cheerfully, voice echoing in the empty museum. "what a workout. humans are always persistent about the most useless things."
from behind the display case, you make out a familiar figure. his blue skin and stitches were difficult features to forget, and it didn't help that you had worked together with hoshi before.
you reevaluated the painting you had come to steal tonight. perhaps it was more important than you had initially assumed.
someone else follows after hoshi. they're of a bigger build with two antlers growing from their head. when they speak, you can't make sense of it.
woozi, you realise, if you even recalled correctly. in the past, working with them had been shrouded in a tense secrecy you didn't dare pierce. as long as good money was made, you never pried into your client's cases though you wish you would have looked into them more considering they had now become your enemy.
"woozi," hoshi was saying. "you're no fun. it's not everyday we get to lounge around and sight see. what do you think of this painting? looks like something even i could do, no?"
the strange language woozi speaks was something you could never decipher.
"don't you remember? he's showing up later. all we have to do is get the cursed painting." something changes in the air and hoshi pauses, turning around.
tension rises, you swear there's something wrong with your heart as it beats against your ribcage, almost beating to completion when his eyes pass over your hiding spot. but even off guard, you won't allow yourself to get caught.
"we're being watched." hoshi says, cheerfully.
you edge backwards slowly, careful not to make a sound.
where on earth did mingyu disappear to?
you find him walking up to the main attraction of the art museum, if the spotlights were anything to go by. seriously, it was like sticking a bright red target on the painting practically taunting anyone to come and steal it.
you tap spiderman on his right shoulder and peek around on his left, though he was already aware of your presence.
"you made it." mingyu says, sparing you a quick glance but his attention is pulled back to the portrait. "what's the situation?"
his cheerful tone is such a contrast to the tense situation from before that you almost laugh. “we’re not alone. it looks like hoshi and woozi also have their eyes on the painting, seriously, how important is this thing anyway that two notorious supervillains are sniffing it out?”
“the guards?” he ignores your question.
“gone. they were all taken out.”
the eye slits on his suit had narrowed slightly when you said their names, but aside from that he made no expression of surprise. "they're early."
"you were expecting them?"
mingyu shrugs and it makes you want to ditch him. "think of them as competition. as long as the painting doesn't end up in their hands, you don't have to worry about anything else."
"you're exploiting me." you hiss. "tell me what's going on."
"some bad guys want this painting and i don't want them to have it. in fact, i want it for myself. it's simple, really."
"i'm a bad guy."
he makes an unsure sound. "i'd say morally ambiguous at best."
it annoys you that he makes you laugh. “i can never really tell what you're thinking, or what face you're making under that mask.”
spiderman lifts the bottom half, revealing a smirk. you hate that you find it attractive. “it’s always smiling at you.”
you look off to your right. "put that away."
he grumbles, pulling down the mask. "yes ma'am."
a noise off in the distance puts you back on guard. "they're coming. sounds like three people. grab the painting and let's get out of here." more footsteps, tap tap taping against the tiled floor. "okay, they've either brought reinforcements or split into a million copies because now there's a lot more headed our way."
"guard the painting."
"sorry?"
you're sure he's grinning as he flips himself up on the ceiling. "don't be, just be ready. we'll take them out before we take the painting."
“saying that like it’ll be that easy?”
you faintly see him tilt his head. “when we’re together, shouldn’t it be?”
nothing leaves your mouth.
“besides, we’ve fought them before and won. it’ll be a piece of cake, what are you worrying for? look, get ready.”
you curse him as he crawls off looking every bit like a spider.
"what a pest." you mumble to yourself, flicking out your whip and latching it around a small curse that throws itself your way. in the distance, you watch as mingyu drops down, landing on the shoulder of a caught off guard woozi.
"black cat." hoshi says, standing before you, drawing your attention back. "who knew we would come face-to-face like this again?"
"i always had a feeling. i never really liked you." you say honestly, flexing the whip between both hands.
his grin is all teeth. "you were great help last time. whatever reward spiderman is offering you, we can offer more."
"not interested." you say.
"don't say i didn't warn you."
his figure suddenly enlarges, fist growing exponentially. there's no time to stand and watch in awe as his fist comes quickly and you roll out of the way, flinging out your whip such that it wraps around his feet. you pull it towards you but he quickly breaks free by shrinking.
his annoying cackling swerves back and forth as he runs around like a little rat.
you kick open the blades attached to your boots, climbing up onto a cabinet to avoid cutting holes in the floor. with your eyes fixated on the small running man, you call out, "spider!"
from behind you, and engaged in his own fight, mingyu slings a glob of web your direction. you crane your head slightly to let it pass you, hitting hoshi and sticking him to the ground.
you're already moving before it makes contact, using your hands to flip forward, slicing a line down hoshi's front as he returns to normal size to wriggle out of the web.
up close, he swings at you, narrowly missing when you throw a punch of your own. hoshi growls, skin already regrowing in a horrific bubbling of flesh and blood. he grabs your leg and twists it uncomfortably, intending to snap it right off to which you twist your entire body to follow his movement and flip him onto the ground.
he doesn't make contact with the floor. he falls into a rabbit, hopping away when your foot comes down again.
"can you stop wriggling around!" not hitting your target several times was starting to get on your nerves.
woozi suddenly flies through the air past you, slamming against the wall and indenting through the scaffolding. spiderman lands to your right. "need help?"
crackling fills the air as woozi stands, picking themself out of the hole and from the debris. one of their horns had been snapped clean and they limped when they took a step forward.
"looks like you're not done just yet." you push spiderman aside just as hoshi creeps up, avoiding his attempt to catch you off guard.
spiderman webs him into woozi before he turns to you. "see? easy."
hoshi grins at you from behind spiderman, but when he doesn’t move, you let out a breath.
quick and simple. just like every other fight with spiderman by your side has ever been. but why was he still smiling?
you nod at mingyu’s words but the inkling that something wasn't right wouldn't go away.
“c’mon, we’ll leave this to the police. i already called them.” he shakes a disposable phone in his hands, disposable so it’s easier to discard in case it comes into someone else’s possession, and pockets it with the glow of victory. “let’s grab that painting and get out of here.”
your eyes never leave hoshi’s and your breath echoes in your head as you focus. what were you missing?
with a start, you quickly survey the museum. "wait, there were more footsteps."
"hm?" mingyu hums, but it's too late.
hundreds of small curses fall from the ceiling, crashing through the glass ceiling with a deafening crack. you swing your whip in an arc above your head to dispel as many as you can, but there's thousands of them, and they cling to you painfully, teeth digging through your latex and deep into your skin.
you let out a fierce growl, backing up from the ceiling but there’s already too much. you attempt to shake them away but their teeth are strong and stubborn and you can only scream in agony as it burns.
"cat!" spiderman slings you to him, wrapping the two of you inside a ball of web. inside, you flick off the ones on you and crouch beside him.
"when we get out of here." you pant. "i'm going to kill you."
mingyu looks as bad as you do. a curse had managed to scratch off part of his mask around his mouth and you watch as a grin grows on his face. "sounds like a date. what, kitty's already out of tricks?"
"i'm always interesting, you know it's true." you flush and hope he doesn't catch it. "but can you focus, spider. you know, this is entirely your fault.”
“my fault?”
“it’s going to be easy.” you mimic in your best imitation of his voice, leaning in. “won’t even last a minute, you won’t even break a sweat. well now that we’ve broken through skin, what do you have to say for yourself?”
his mask stares at you for a moment. after a moment of silence, interrupted only by the hideous cries from the curses and the maniacal laughter from hoshi outside the web bubble, he finally jolts. “no, this is good because now we can talk.”
you narrow your eyes. “we were talking just fine before they showed up.”
spiderman shakes his head. "this superpower belongs to another villain i've been tracking and i had hoped he’ll make an appearance here, today. i don't really know his name but i've seen him from afar. it looks like he's the mastermind behind most of hoshi and woozi's schemes so if we take him down here, it’ll really help lessen the workload these past few weeks. from what i've gathered, he has control over manipulating curses drawn from negative emotions. the bigger the accumulation of negative emotions, the stronger the curse. that painting we’re after? let’s just say the artist was really going through something as they were painting it.”
you store that information in the back of your mind for now. "okay, so what can we do about him?"
"he's watching from somewhere." mingyu points to the ground and begins sketching out the general structure of the museum. "there are two leverage points he could be at. here, up on the far right balcony or here, on the roof. i'll sling up, you take the balcony."
"got it. and the other two?"
"they should be struggling with the web. i loaded it with paralysis gel before we met up. we only have a few minutes; we deal with the big guy, we get the job done." he grins. “easy.”
you ignore his comment and nod, beginning to stand up. "and then we take the painting, you give me compensation for this horrible night and we part ways. got it."
"what compensation?”
without hesitation, you lift your leg and slice through the thick webbing with the knife in your boots, opening up the space. you leap out to avoid the curses that pour in, sparing a glance at the dent in the wall to see hoshi and woozi still crammed under a coating of white string. something shone in hoshi’s eyes, something akin to anticipation.
you throw yourself against the balcony door, and feel it give out against your shoulder. exposed to the open air, you guard yourself with your whip and keep a hand ready by your toolbelt. just as spiderman had warned, there was already a figure standing back to you, near the railings.
something goes off.
not a bomb, not something physical, but you feel it just as painfully. you should have known from the ticking your heartbeat tonight that something was going to go off and it’s here, on the balcony, that it finally detonates.
countdown now gone, your heart stops beating and your fingers grow cold. you almost lose balance on the pole as you gape at the figure.
"wonwoo?"
even as you utter his name, you know it can't be true. you were there when you saw your best friend die, you were there. you saw his lifeless body slumped against the wall of an alleyway, hole through his side, blood, endless blood pouring down his side staining his clothes. his eyes were already dull and gone by the time you had rushed to his side and his skin cold, frozen against your palm as you laid a hand against his face. there was a small smile there despite it all, and damnit, if only you were one second faster, if only you hadn’t been so naive as to leave him to chase after some stupid, low level threat because of your pride, if only you hadn’t thought to show off, if only you had never told him your secret identity, if only–
you saw it all. his couldn't be him.
but still, your grip relaxes and your shoulders slump.
it couldn't be him, but god did you wish it was.
"black cat." wonwoo calls out pleasantly, then after a pause he says your name, your real name, and whatever resistance you might have had disappears entirely. "long time no see."
"wonwoo?" you move your legs, tentatively stepping closer. the shadows lift off his face until you can make out his eyes and they're just as you remembered, gentle and patient. "you're not, you can't be." your words are feeble, threatened to be carried away by the wind.
his smile was so familiar.
your fingers clench into your palm, drawing blood. "you're not him." the pain is real.
"have you forgotten my face in the time we've been apart?"
his voice was so familiar.
"that day, you died. i know you did. i, i couldn't hear your heartbeat anymore." another step closer, until his pupils were clearer. they were the colour you saw haunted on the back of your eyelids every night before you slip into sleep, where they reappear to remind you of your loss once more.
it was so familiar, this had to be him. the pain was real, this couldn’t be a dream.
"you're hurt." wonwoo says. "let me get a closer look at you."
reality hits you with a gasp. "hold on, get back! there's a villain somewhere on this rooftop. you need to get down, wonwoo, i'll help you this time, i’m sorry for leaving you but it won’t happen again, i promise! i don't want to lose you again so, please just listen to me. we can, we can talk about what happened later, i’m sorry, but please, can you just…"
you hurry to where he stands.
the gaping hole of alarm in your stomach is blaring now, having grown through this entire endeavour. something was wrong, it screams at you, but that can't be right. you had no time to decipher its cries, wonwoo was standing before you as you had always dreamed, you needed to concern yourself with this first.
the closer you got, the more light fell onto his face.
it happens all at once, shadows lifting, and you see him in his entirety, stitches and all. something was wrong, but you had no time to come to peace with that conclusion as you watch his kind smile contort to something disgusting, and watch as he gestures upwards.
the curse that raises from the ground swallows you whole.
gas surrounds you immediately and it burns. the tears that fall from your eyes are red and hot, and you gasp painfully as it invades your lungs. harsh, shallow pants escape your mouth.
"wonwoo." you utter, helplessly.
you can't die here.
with effort, you wrench the blades from your shoe and wield them in your hands, digging into the fleshy wall of the curse. you can't tell if the blade ever makes it through to the other side but you keep going anyway, fueled by something that makes you sick.
when you hit something sensitive, the curse gags. the floor under you shifts, and you balance yourself against the slime. you're ejected from the mouth with a sudden rush, landing ungracefully on your side.
you quickly look up. but there's no one there.
"no." your voice cracks against the single, desperate syllable. "no, not again."
the door to the balcony is thrown open. your heart jumps in hope despite yourself, but it's spiderman that stands at the frame.
"cat? what happened to you?" his voice is the gentlest you've ever heard as he bends down to pick you up.
you can't linger on that achievement, your eyes are squeezed shut against the loud static in your ears. "mingyu." you gasp out his name.
he moves instinctively, wrapping his arms around you and you cling to him, breathing heavy.
"what happened?" he repeats into your hair.
"i, i can't tell you." knowing each other's names was one thing, but the two of you had never shared any other personal information. to know would be too intimate, too normal, as if the lives you both led could ever spare something like normalcy. he should never know your weakness lest the two of you became true enemies, and if he knew the origins of your evil doing, the revenge you plan to inflict on the world after they failed your best friend, well, you couldn't stand it if mingyu ever saw you as vulnerable. “the painting, damnit mingyu, what about the painting?”
“it’s fine! the police arrived, the other two are in custody. it’s fine now, it’s fine.”
“wonw–” you stop yourself before finishing your mumble. “the other supervillain, the one you were looking for, where…?”
his arms still. “he’s gone. i saw him leave.”
gone.
despite it, you allow yourself a moment of peace in his arms.
"i'm, sorry for making you come up here?" spiderman’s voice curls at the end as if unsure. “maybe i should have gone instead. i didn’t mean to… i’m sorry.”
you don't say anything.
"can you look at me?"
you pull back, casting your eyes downwards. you gaze was still unsteady, your heartbeat erratic, and the tremble in your fingers wouldn't go away no matter how hard you squeezed them. cold. "it's fine, i just lost composure for a second."
a hallucination, or a superpower that brought out your worst memory. that's all it was.
you shake your heads and the thoughts bang into each other. "did you catch him?"
"no, i told you he escaped."
"and the painting, it's—"
"safe." mingyu tries to meet your eyes. "what did he do to you?"
"it's nothing, mingyu, he just caught me off guard."
"off guard? you're lying on the floor bleeding! and covered in this weird goo..." he lifts his hand and the goo oozes down.
"he had a hallucinogen. or, something, i don't know. i'm just dazed."
"whatever you saw—"
"i know." you try and give him a reassuring smile. "it wasn't real. come on, spider. you think my life has been all sunshine and rainbows? he used my past against me and i wasn't expecting it. rookie mistake, it won't happen again."
"i'm not blaming you." there was a crease between his brows.
"i know, sorry. i'm just out of it still. here, help me up."
he takes your offered arm and pulls you up off the ground. your left side stings from it's impact with the unforgiving floor, but with mingyu aid you're able to make it back inside. he guides you away from the authorities as they remain blissfully unaware that the victory tonight had been largely due to the contribution of their most wanted villain.
you don’t dare to glance back at the balcony. for a moment, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to rob this museum again, knowing what had occurred beyond that door. with a sigh, you seal your experience behind the locked doors in the back of your mind and readjust the latex mask of black cat.
"this painting better create miracles." you grumble under your breath, wiping some goo off your cheek.
mingyu doesn't say anything for a while. the two of you hobble past the hole in the wall and stand before the display case. you finally take a good look at what you had tried so hard to steal.
it was a medieval woman's portrait, someone of high nobility perhaps. crystals shimmered about her head, resting on soft, delicate curls and a pair of vibrant ruby earrings dangled from her ear. necklaces adorned her neck layered one on top of the other and her dress was made of the smoothest silk, falling perfectly against her silhouette. the woman wore a smile as she gazed straight ahead and at nothing at all.
the entire thing sparkled. spiderman could have mentioned that in his description.
that alone would cause it to be a masterpiece worthy of million of dollars, but it was none of these details that drew your attention.
instead, your eyes were captivated by the haphazard stitching that crossed her forehead, so rough in contrast to her delicate beauty.
"i had a friend, my roommate." mingyu was saying. “he passed away a few years ago. i wasn't able to save him despite… being spiderman."
"i'm sorry."
he acknowledges your words with a small smile. "before he died, he was researching something big. he wouldn't tell me what it was, or rather, i don't think i ever asked him. it’s so hard to be present when you have this whole second identity to take of."
you thought of wonwoo and found yourself empathising with mingyu's words.
"he was obsessed with this woman. he believed she was still alive, somehow, despite having been recorded centuries ago. call it a conspiracy theory or a hyperfixation, that’s what i did anyway, but it drew him in and never truly let go. at one point, he told me he had found a lead.” spiderman dropped his head. “i think whatever he found killed him."
"you wanted to understand him." you realise.
he nods. "even if it's too late, i wanted to know what took his life. maybe then i wouldn't blame myself so much." his face falls for a second before he pulls his smile back up. looking down, his gaze is gentle. "look, i don't really know what's going on with you—"
"okay, harsh."
"but." he continues anyway. "you're not alone. we might be enemies on some days, but we're mostly friends, right?"
mingyu’s smile is completely visible due to the ripping of his mask and it quivers when you don’t immediately reply.
maybe this was cruel. maybe you were replacing the void wonwoo left behind with mingyu but if that were true, you can only imagine that he was doing the same with you and his roommate. this vulnerability was never something you wanted to share but in that moment, it was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, so you start laughing. it empties out the ball in your stomach and you lean into spiderman, giggling into your hand. "what the heck, since when have you been this cheesy?"
"i've always been this way." through the cut in his mask, you see he's beaming again. "does this mean you agree?"
"what part of my sentence makes you think that?" your laughter dies down a little, but the comfort you feel doesn't fade. "this woman, do you know who she is?"
mingyu shakes his head. "she was a noble in the 1400s and her lineage still runs strong. i tracked down her bloodline and found this kid. he’s in highschool, you know, i saw him the other day. you wouldn’t be able to miss him with his hair being bright pink and all.”
"and is he just a normal highschooler?" you ask.
"just a normal kid."
you frown. "are you completely sure? what if you missed something, what if it's just a facade?"
"are you concerned for me?"
"after hearing your sob story, i can't pretend like i'm not."
mingyu grins and a silence ensues. then, quietly, as if fearful of breaking the peaceful atmosphere that had settled on the pair of you. "well, you could come check it out with me."
there's something in his tone that makes you raise an eyebrow and snap your head in his direction. he's avoiding your gaze, looking anywhere but at you. "why are you talking like that?" you ask, slowly.
he coughs. "i don't know. it's just, earlier. i asked you out on a date."
you recall your time in his web bubble. "we were in a life or death situation."
"i was serious!" he finally looks down at you. "so? are you free tomorrow?"
the absurdity of it all. of course spiderman would ask something like that here, now. goo covering the two of you, roughed up from a close encounter with someone from your dark pasts, bleeding from one arm, a deep scratch on the other’s cheek, and yet despite all the grievances it was asking you out that made him the most unsure.
you bite your lip to contain your smile but it slips through. you can't help it, not when mingyu was looking at you so uncertain. it was adorable, even. "you're ridiculous. we're superheroes, we don't even know each other!"
"we can *get *to know each other." he doesn't back down. "that still isn't a no, you know."
"i know." you grin. "because it's not a no."
your smile must be contagious because he beams back at you. "okay!” a pause, as if considering. “wow, okay. great, i thought i'd have to bargain a bit but, okay. cool!"
you tilt your head up at him, watching him fluster. "is that all?"
his breath hitches slightly. "uh, what?"
you lean up and press your lips to his in a quick kiss. "it's a date then. you can't go back on it now."
mingyu's mouth fell open. "uhhh."
with a grimace, you reach up and wipe the goo from your mouth. "oh, this stuff does not taste good. don't lick your lips, spider."
he does it anyway, automatically in fact, before frowning too. "damn, you're right."
something dawns on you as mingyu busies himself with wiping the strange substance off his face. somehow, it had even gotten in his hair. frowning, you say, "wait a minute, you called the authorities, right?”
“right. unless you wanted to personally escort hoshi and woozi to prison.”
“what happened to stealing the painting?” you narrow your eyes at him. “i thought that was our plan. how could we steal the painting now that you’ve called the cops?”
mingyu doesn’t speak.
“you never had any intentions of robbing this place, did you? you just wanted me here to hold the villains off and claim the praise all to yourself, didn’t you?” your voice raises and you shove him playfully.
his arm freezes mid action and when he doesn't immediately answer, you know you're right.
"so you lied to me."
"i call it creative misdirection."
"that's lying!"
even as the two of you bicker, there's something still unsettling you. your fingers close around the necklace still in your pocket and feel the indents of the gem. even without looking at it, you can tell it matches the one in the portrait. your fingers catch a small projection off the charm and when you flick it open, a small piece of paper falls into your hand.
your eyes slide to the woman in the painting and for a second, it feels like she's staring back.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“now tell me, what is the trajectory of this ball?”
the trajectory of the ball? oh god .. you’re about to change the trajectory of my life, sir.
“yn? are you listening?”
park sunghoon, your physics tutor, but to you he was the reason why you purposely didn’t try hard in physics. teachers, friends, parents and even the classmates you didn’t talk knew about him— he was immaculate at his job, and maybe a bit too immaculate to even look at.
although he tried his utmost best, it seemed like you had other plans. thursdays to you were always dull and mute but ever since sunghoon slipped into your life like a pleasant shadow, you couldn’t have wished for more.
his short trimmed hair, his rectangular rimmed glasses, his strong cologne and his crisp, white t-shirt was enough of a reason to why you should have focused on him and not the physics problems he desperately wanted you to answer.
the afternoon sunlight kissed his naturally blushed cheeks while his hand fiddled with his hair anytime he thought it was the slightest bit messy. how could you focus when he was in front of you?
the minute you put your pen on the ground, you could feel the piercing gaze from his eyes, the slight shift in his posture, the sudden movement of his arms crossed to leisurely on the table and the way he said your name from his pretty mouth— just like peaceful music, you wanted to hear him over and over again.
“yn, is there anything different today? you keep on staring elsewhere, instead of the work in front of you.”
yes, i’m starting out the window, thinking about you— i’m so embarrassed that i can’t even look at you in the eye.
“no .. everything’s fine.” the words come out of your mouth like a whisper and your head is tucked in from embarrassment.
“that’s great, because i want your eyes on me, at all times.”
DESC. yours and heeseungs breakup through the eyes of nishimura riki
GENRE angst, 3rd party perspective
WARNING mutual breakup, mention of parental issues, riki has attachment issues, he’s also irrational but aren’t we all
W. COUNT 0.8k
S. NOTES why did i have so much fun writing this
to say riki considered you and heeseung his parents was an understatement.
he boy genuinely believed you were. so it's safe to say that when his heeseung hyung ( read: dad ) came home to their apartment late to their weekly boys' night and dropped the news, he was devastated.
“me and y/n broke up.“
riki could feel his whole world collapse, suddenly feeling ten again when his parents sat him down to tell him that his mum and dad were getting a divorce and dad was going to be moving back to his old city.
in hindsight, he should’ve consoled his hyung who didn’t look like he had just broken it off with his girlfriend of four years and the woman everyone believed he’d marry one day. he should've gone up to him like a good friend and given him a few words of comfort — maybe even a hug.
but instead, he felt anger. it was selfish, but he couldn’t realise his irrationality over the splitting feeling in his chest, and heeseung's reaction — or lack thereof — didn’t help but wedge a nail in the crack and hammer it down.
he couldn’t make out what the rest of their friends were saying, feeling all his senses suddenly muffle, giving his emotions nowhere to go but out, “what do you mean you broke up.”
the room suddenly felt colder. all their friends stopped talking and froze their gazes on him. seeing sunghoon from his peripheral, sending him a questioning look, but his vision tunnelled on the eldest, who was still standing near the entrance. “you can’t just break up, not now.”
confusion settled on the elder's face, overtly not expecting this reaction from him, “what do you mean i can't? it's my relationship, and we both ended it.”
riki was starting to feel antagonised, seeing faces look back and forth between him and the other, so he stood up in an attempt to size himself up, refusing to see the irrationality of his point. he felt like heeseung was being inconsiderate by breaking up something riki relied on without thinking of the others who'd be affected outside of the relationship.
everyone in their friend group was aware of his abnormal attachments, evident in the shirt he refuses to throw away because it was his father's, even if the fabric had more holes than not, or the two sizes too big shoes his sister gifted him, insisting he would ‘grow into them’ and now yours and heeseung's relationship.
healthy relationships weren't the norm in his life growing up, so by default, riki was hostile and withdrawn towards you the first few times heeseung introduced you as his new girlfriend. reminding himself constantly at the back of his mind that all relationships must come to an end and with every problem heeseung brought home, he was convinced it was near.
however, he must have underestimated you. one year became two, then four, and riki had become accustomed to his life with you. finding himself excited every time you’d come over whenever he was around because you had always seemed to favour him slightly, giving him the best meat cuts whenever you’d eat out together, or saving him the corner of the brownie because you knew it was his favourite part.
maybe it was silly to let you grow a home into the hole in his heart that was carved by his mother, seeking maternal comforts from you and allowing you to become a constant in his life.
but then again, all relationships have an end but riki wasn’t ready to let this one go. “so what? that’s it? you’re just going to end it here after everything?”
“look, it was a mutual breakup. we both just don't feel the same as we did before, so we broke it off like adults. i wish her all the best, just not with me.”
the split started to spread throughout his whole body, feeling his knees start to weaken under the weight of his emotions. when he started to feel his throat clog up and his eyes start to burn, he quickly made his escape, pushing past his hyung making sure to knock their shoulder on his way out to show he wasn't happy with the new change.
he could hear them discussing what happened after slamming his bedroom door, the thin walls leaving no word left unheard, drilling each question into his mind.
maybe then he should’ve left and apologised for his outburst, but grief is a funny feeling.
even though the relationship wasn’t his and never was to begin with, riki had gotten too comfortable living vicariously through you, and now he wanted someone to take responsibility for feelings only he could be blamed for.
but that’s another thing about grief. there’s always someone you want to pin the blame on. someone who caused this emotion to spiral and settle at the pit of his stomach without anywhere else to go leaving it to make itself home in his body.
huhu this was so good ㅠㅠ you need to pay for my therapy after this omgg the angst was so heavy but hurt soooooo good ,, and it was so interesting to read from ni-ki's pov ! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
warnings ⋆ satirical mentions of dying, suggestive undertones maybe but nothing too serious he's just flirting >//< , a lil bit of kissing ( 0.8k )
notes ⋆ for @isoobie i luv u bae & i hope u like this. pls excuse any typos i wrote it directly on blr ><
“it’s been fifteen minutes,” heeseung sighs, arms crossed as he walks into your room. “you said you’d be done in t—” a pause, his mouth hanging open as he stares at you, eyes raking all over you, top to bottom, taking in all of you.
“sorry, i was a bit unsure about the dress,” you say while still looking at your reflection in the mirror, twirling a little to the side while examining your dress, or rather how it looks on you. “do you like it?”
nothing comes out of his mouth for a good minute.
heeseung traces your features with his gaze, how well the dress fits you and compliments you. you’re waiting for a response and he’s standing speechlessly, gulping ever so slightly before looking at you in disbelief. “are you trying to kill me?”
“why on earth would i try to kill you?” you frown at his words, turning away from the mirror to look at him.
“by wearing that dress, you definitely are,” and you automatically back against the dressing table when he walks towards you with a scoff, hands instinctively resting on his chest while his arms rest on the table on either side, caging you in between. “and you have the audacity to say you’re unsure,”
“do i look that good?” you ask, lips curling up in a smile. he knows you’re fishing for a compliment— which you don’t have to. he’s always down to shower you in praise, it comes naturally to him.
“you look that good,” and he responds with another smile, fingers playing with the pendant of your rose gold necklace. “so good, it makes me want to kiss you,” he breathes, burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and planting a soft kiss, “like here,” with his lips trailing down to your collarbones as he mumbles between words. “and here,” he looks up at your lips, pecking them sweetly. “everywhere,”
you giggle, definitely appreciating his words as you get lost in his sweet and tender kisses. “we’re going to be late,”
and suddenly, heeseung doesn’t mind being late for the dinner reservations anymore.
“i’m thinking we have dinner at home,” he wraps one hand around your waist while the other fiddles with your earring. with the smirk dancing on his face, you know dinner is just an excuse. “just you and me,”
“and food?” you chuckle at his words, knowing the very reason you two made the dinner reservations was your empty fridge and the lack of willingness in both of you to go buy grocery this evening.
his lips press into a thin line as he pretends to think, tilting his head to the side while the eyes stay focused on you. he snickers, humming thoughtfully. “food is. . .not that necessary, if you ask me,”
you know exactly what he’s trying to say. the way he’s talking while his eyes are lingering all over you as if undressing you with his eyes, worshipping every single part of you. it’s beyond his understanding how you manage to look good in everything. he might have to take you shopping more often if this is what he’s in for.
“you’re acting up,” you poke his cheeks, squinting your eyes at him, pretending to be annoyed.
“your fault, angel,” and he swiftly shifts the blame to you, both his hands on your waist now, caressing and drawing random patterns over the cloth.
“so, it’s my fault now?”
“yeah, you chose to wear this dress knowing absolutely well how much i love it on you,” he nods with a pout, trying to look innocent as if you’re the bad one here for having him wrapped around your fingers. “and now you’re driving me crazy so you don’t get to complain,”
you laugh— heeseung never really fails to amuse with his words. it’s interesting to see how his mind works. not the first time he’s blaming you for making him ‘act up’ and definitely not the last. you would argue it’s just another dress, but heeseung would say otherwise. it’s the dress made for you, and you— made only for him.
the clock on the wall behind him manages to pull you out of your thoughts. you two were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago. you gently push him away, although his grip around your waist tightens, refusing to let you go. “okay, i won’t. now can we leave?”
he looks as if contemplating something, still not letting you go. “how about i steal a kiss first?” he suggests with a click of his tongue, the smirk climbing its way back to his lips.
“how about no?” you tease, removing his hands from your waist.
“too bad,” and he tilts your chin up with his finger, backing you against the table once again, pressing himself against you. he leans in with a scoff, brushing his lips against yours. “i’m going to do it anyway,”
𐙚 𓈒 𓈒 SYNOPSIS ) ; pranking your boyfriend about another girlfriend
PAIRING ) — hyung line!enha x fem!reader
WC ) — 1.8k+
GENRE ) — established relationship / fluff / hyung line x f!reader / non!idol au contains skinship & kissing !
INCOMING MSG ) — ding ! thanks for checking out my first post (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ if you enjoyed, pls consider following and if you have any requests, send them my way ><
L. HEESEUNG ) —
you lounge on the sofa as your boyfriend greets the person at the door, faintly hearing the ends of their conversation before heeseung returns. he meets your eye as he rounds the corner, smiling as he lifts up the takeaway bag and gives it a little shake.
“hungry?”
you sit up, beaming. “you ordered takeout? why didn’t you tell me?”
“there’s no point, i already know what you like.”
“oh?” following him into the kitchen, you reach out to help lay out the food but he brushes your hands away, placing his hands on your shoulders to lightly push you into a chair. “you’re confident.”
heeseung shrugs, smiling. “you’re predictable.”
you huff at that, watching as he moves about, unpacking the plastic bags and taking the utensils from the drawer. he places them in front of you, then unpacks the dishes he ordered when you were napping on the couch. true to his words, he did know your favourites though you weren’t ready to admit.
you point to a random container. “who is this for? your other girlfriend?”
heeseung glances over briefly. “of course not. she doesn’t like rice.” he says and though he’s turned away to arrange the rest of the meal, you can hear the smirk in his voice.
“why can’t i hear any remorse in your voice?”
“probably because i don’t feel any.”
“hee…” you trail off disapprovingly, and he finally looks over at you. he’s wearing the smile you expected him too, eyes curved into crescents, making him all the more like a mischievous cat. your heart flutters slightly at the sight, cursing him internally for being so pretty. you stifle your own smile. “what’s so funny about cheating?”
“nothing. i’m laughing at you and your scrunched up face. like a persian cat.”
“this cat’s about to fight, heeseung. so you better watch out.”
heeseung places a delicate hand over his mouth in faux surprise before his grin appears again. he reaches over to ruffle your hair before moving on to bring out drinks from the fridge. “you’re going to eat me up?” he says from behind the fridge door.
despite yourself, you blush at his tone. “i’m not that hungry.”
“that wasn’t the hunger i was implying and you know it.” he closes the door, juggling drinks in his hands which you stand up and take from him. as you stand closer, he places a kiss on your forehead. “you’re going to have to satiate your hunger with the takeout. for the other kind of hunger though, let’s see if there’s still room for dessert after.”
P. JAY ) —
morning rouses you bright and early, sunlight causing your eyes to squint. you flail your arm to the other side of the bed and when it fails to make contact with your boyfriend, you finally look over. the sheets on his side are cold, and when the scent of breakfast hits your nose, you realise he’s probably started his day earlier.
its this smell that leads you down the stairs to the kitchen where jay is softly humming along to a song playing on his phone. spatula in one hand, phone in other and his attention anywhere but you, you secretly enjoy this moment.
until you slip your arms around his waist, snuggling into his back. “jay.” you say, muffled by his shirt.
“hm?”
“what’re you making? come back to bed.”
he dodges your attempts to pull him back opting instead to step closer to the stove. “hold on, i was told to watch these pancakes and flip them at two minutes… i can’t mess this up.”
you huff, feeling his warmth leave. your face scrunches up and perhaps if he would turn around and apologise with a smile or a kiss on your lips, you might have forgiven him. but jay continues to pour his attention into the steaming pan and you can’t help but feel childish. “who told you? your other girlfriend?”
“what?” jay’s head turns to you in a flash, eyes darting to pick up your body language at your sudden accusation. he’s finally facing you but it’s all so quick, too quick for you to school your facial features. you turn your head to the side and rub your arms, hoping to cover up your clumsy acting.
“another girlfriend? where did that come from, y/n?” he dips his head to try and meet your eyes when you don’t respond. “hey, look at me.”
“you’re not denying it.” its a losing battle, you know he has you in the palm of his hand but still you resist as much as you can at his wave of concern. “so there is another? is she the homewrecker or am i?”
“baby there’s no homewrecker!”
“ah, so you’re playing us both for fun.”
“there’s not another girl!” he places a gentle finger under your chin, tilting your head so that you can finally make out the surprise and caution in his eyes.
looking in his eyes, you manage a, “there’s more than two then?”
“there’s not one or two girls! there’s just you!”
you can’t take it anymore. the slight wiggle at the corner of lips spreads and you let out the laughter building up inside, cackling at the panic on his face. the tension eases from his shoulders as he watches you, laughter contagious enough for him to crack his own small smile. “that wasn’t funny at all.”
“your other girlfriend would have found it hilarious.”
“okay enough.”
S. JAKE ) —
jake has been acting strange all week. you’ve noticed his eyes would flicker to his phone constantly, during conversations or on dates, and one hand would never fail to be touching it, never straying far. when the two of you sit down for meals, he would place his phone face down, picking it up to check the screen every couple of seconds. and when he wasn’t obsessing over his phone, his fingers would tap a fast rhythm on whatever surface he could get his hands on.
you look up during dinner just as jake sighs, putting his phone back down on the table when the notification fails to satisfy him.
“everything okay?” you watch as your question sends an unnerving shiver down his spine.
he chokes, hand coming up to cover his mouth. “sorry, what?”
you reach over to hand him a napkin. “you’ve been jumpy all week. is everything okay?”
“of course.” he flashes you a smile at your concern. on any other day, this might have won you over if not for the fact that even as he replies, his hands slide over to cover his phone.
you frown, letting the topic drop to watch his movements. right next to his phone was the fried chicken the both of you had ordered and he releases his phone to pick up the second last piece, happily munching down.
you had complete trust in jake and your loving relationship but curiosity didn’t allow you to ignore his suspicious actions. and there was really only one way to check if there was anything sinisterhappening.
you stand up from the table and lean forward, hand out in his general direction.
jake blinks out of his daze, his own hands coming up to shield the chicken.
your hand safely lands on his phone.
“ah.” jake blinks at your hand, motionless on the table before he jumps into action. “wait!”
"what's got you so engrossed in your phone? your other girlfriend?"
"no!" he doesn't make any attempt to snatch his phone back, but his eyes keep fluttering nervously from your face to your hand. "i'm just... waiting on an email. babe, i promise it isn't what you think. there is no other girl. i can show you my screentime!"
when he does, you stare unimpressed at his accumulated hours on gmail. "you're chatting up a girl on gmail?"
"no!"
you giggle at his nervous outburst, sitting back down to regard him fondly. "i'm just joking. you wouldn't be this sloppy at covering up an affair."
he groans, pocketing his phone. "that isn't a compliment, y/n." the nervousness remains, but the weight on his shoulder lifts slightly.
at the end of the week, you find out what it was he was hiding in the form of a small jewelry box, presented to you in the palm of his hand.
P. SUNGHOON ) —
the cold seeps through the wall and through the polyester of your sweater as you lean against your kitchen wall, picking at the stray threads. your friend continues to drone on about her latest crush, some guy from her korean class, and because she’s already told you the night before, you let out simple absentminded hums at her words. your eyes track to your boyfriend on the couch who was waiting for your return.
the shrill of your phone’s ringtone had prompted a scream from the both of you as you cuddled on the couch watching the latest horror film, giggling to each other at the ridiculous reaction. what began as a promise of a short phone call slowly dragged on, minute after minute until sunghoon couldn’t wait any longer and whipped out his phone to scroll through tiktok.
“i’m losing you, aren’t i?” your friend asks suddenly, and you jump to reassure her.
“no! no, it’s fine i’m listening i promise.”
“are you with your boyfriend?”
a smile escapes you. “yeah, just watching a movie, nothing crazy.”
“did you forgive him then? after what he did yesterday?”
her words make you frown as you recall the small prank he had played on you. you had come home to a frantic text stating the “toilet was smoking!!” and rushed in, even forgetting to take your work shoes off, only to find your toilet dressed up, two big googly eyes at its front and a slightly squashed toilet roll wedged between the seat and the closed lid. in response, you had sat hoon in timeout.
you groan again, replaying the annoyance in your head. “i swear this guy teases me more than he loves me.”
“i think that’s just his love language.”
“well, it’s pissing me off.” you grumble, unimpressed.
“have you ever done anything to get back at him?” your friend’s words make you pause. simply put, you had never even considered being on the offensive. “girl, get him back! confront him as if he’s cheating, that’ll get his heart rate up.”
the image of a flustered sunghoon causes you to grin and you warm to the idea immediately. “you are incredible, one second.”
you sneak back to the sofa, placing your hand on his shoulder to alert him of your presence. before you can get anything out, just as your mouth opens and without even turning to face you, sunghoon says, “done talking with your other boyfriend yet?”
your mind blanks. “huh?” you ask intelligently.
“your other boyfriend, obviously. i saw you smiling and giggling to him on the phone. forgot all about me, huh?”
you open and close your mouth speechlessly. “no i—!”
a smile suddenly breaks across his face. “got you.”
realization dawns on you like a bad smell. “not funny.”
he reaches over and slings an arm over your shoulder and you settle in subconsciously, unaware as he hangs up on your call. “forget about your side piece, pay attention to me.”
🍵 wc 911 kissing, fmr 𝅘𝅥𝅮 listen! for @okwonyo’s event
“hey! lee heeseung, come here!” a loud voice calls heeseung’s name from across the room in amidst of the calm atmosphere.
“i won’t and what will you do about it!” heeseung responds back and sticks his tongue out before running out of the classroom. however, before he can make it out of the second floor a hand grabs his shirt by the collar to stop him.
“and where do you think you’re going, we aren’t done yet.” its the same voice that screamed his name a couple seconds ago and now he’s looking directly into the owner’s face.
its yn, park yn, class president and heeseung’s best friend who doesn’t know that he has been crushing on her for more than three years.
yn and heeseung are head to head, practically shooting fire through their eyes at each other. if someone from a distance saw them, they would have thought they were sworn enemies but in reality they were having nothing more than fun.
a couple minutes ago, heeseung decided that it was a good (according to him) idea to play a prank on yn and take her favourite lip balm and hide it from her.
he loved teasing her, it was his love language but yn had enough, she wasn’t going to let this slide, it was her last straw.
before heeseung had run out of the classroom yn had looked everywhere for him, the field, toilets, the gym, canteen, even the janitors room but realising he was nowhere, she was mad mad.
but eventually when she found him in her homeroom peacefully resting, she didn’t let this once in a life opportunity go.
eye to eye, neither of them say a word, the silence could speak for itself. yn’s irritation and heeseung’s pleasure was so evident in the air that none of them dared to speak, until.
“so park yn, you gonna’ fight me or what?” his voice was laced with so much sarcasm yn’s bones were crippling with anger.
“give me my lip balm. right. now.” her response was so demanding it shook heeseung more than it should have, he had never heard her speak in such tone before.
“and what if i said no ... ” at this point heeseung just wanted an excuse to stay with her for longer, just to hear her voice for even just a second more.
heeseung couldn’t remember the moment exactly when he fell in love with his best friend but he knew for sure that he loved no one else but her.
all the times they hung out, all the times they video called, all the times she cried about her exes to him, made him fall deeper and harder than ever.
playing pranks and bothering her was the only way he could express his undying affection for her without him accidentally slipping up.
no other words could describe it when he was with her, it felt like the whole world revolved around her and him, and he selfishly wanted to live in that world.
heeseung thinks of yn as a dream, one he never wanted to wake up from. every moment with her was priceless, timeless and worth an infinity. god, he yearned to drown her compliments and make her feel like the most precious person on earth.
“hello? earth to heeseung?” yn’s sharp voice cuts through his thoughts and bring him back to reality. “these games aren’t funny anymore i just want my balm back, please.” he could hear the pleading in her voice, lord, he was so weak for it— for her.
“but yn guess what?” he’s doing it, and he’s only decided it in the last three seconds, he’s going to tell her.
heeseung inches forward like its normal, until he can hear the little ‘thump’ of her back on the brick wall behind them.
“hee—”
he keeps a finger to her lips and doesn’t let her say another word.
“just listen, please” it’s his nth time trying to confess, he can’t let this chance go to waste, he knows it’ll be perfect, “this may seem rushed or out of the blue but funny enough, i like you, park yn.”
yn is shocked, flabbergasted and surprisingly happy, she doesn’t know how all these emotions are tied together but it just happens. heeseung’s bambi eyes stare at her, waiting patiently for a reaction, and only when she smiles a slight smile at him he continues.
“it’s probably been three years, or more who cares, since i have liked you, god that’s long,” he makes sure to whisper the last bit, “i sometimes wonder if you know how i feel, if you reciprocate my feelings back or if you think about me like i think about you. i can’t express in words how i truly feel about you but all i want is you and me, us, please?”
how could yn say no? how could anyone say no? his hands are nervously behind her back while his mouth is slightly open ans his hair messily parted, he was so handsome.
“funny enough heeseung, my answer is ye—”
before they both knew it, heeseung’s lips were already on yn’s while the hand that once was nervous was now on her hips, secured.
“you like your new lip balm, girlfriend?” heeseung’s once soft voice was now back to it’s teasing tone and all of a sudden her anger was all gone.
"i can’t express in words how i truly feel about you but all i want is you and me, us, please?” i'm obsessed this is officially the cutest thing ive read ㅠㅠ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
₊˚⊹ notes ~ bf!heeseung x fem!reader ⋆⭒ warnings: kisses, petname ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 word count: 200+꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ genre: fluff| | LIBRARY FOR MORE...
"Okay now, get off my lap. I need to finish my work, princess." Heeseung whispered softly while his fingers traced patterns on your arm, sending shivers down your spine.
"Are you kicking out on my only good comfortable spot?" you teased prompting a soft laughter from Heeseung.
"Maybe," Heeseung joked back as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
"Then why are you sealing me from going?" you asked, noticing his firm grip on your waist.
"Cause I want one thing before you leave," Heeseung hinted, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"And what might that be?" you teased, your fingers trailing lightly over his hand resting on your waist.
"Maybe a kiss?" Heeseung suggested with a grin.
"Hmm...maybe not." you joked, then to laugh at Heeseung's frowned face expression. You smiled and then leaned in, signaling for Heeseung to fill in the gap.
As your lips touched, he pulled you closer on his lap. You felt a small smile between the kisses, making you smile back. Your eyes shut close, trying to savor the taste of the kiss and moment. Both of you pulled away from the kiss, laughing and breathless.
"How about five more?" Heeseung proposed, trying to sway you.
"You're too greedy, hee." you laughed, leaning in for another kiss.
𐙚 𓈒 𓈒 SYNOPSIS ) ; pranking your boyfriend about another girlfriend
PAIRING ) — hyung line!enha x fem!reader
WC ) — 1.8k+
GENRE ) — established relationship / fluff / hyung line x f!reader / non!idol au contains skinship & kissing !
INCOMING MSG ) — ding ! thanks for checking out my first post (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ if you enjoyed, pls consider following and if you have any requests, send them my way ><
L. HEESEUNG ) —
you lounge on the sofa as your boyfriend greets the person at the door, faintly hearing the ends of their conversation before heeseung returns. he meets your eye as he rounds the corner, smiling as he lifts up the takeaway bag and gives it a little shake.
“hungry?”
you sit up, beaming. “you ordered takeout? why didn’t you tell me?”
“there’s no point, i already know what you like.”
“oh?” following him into the kitchen, you reach out to help lay out the food but he brushes your hands away, placing his hands on your shoulders to lightly push you into a chair. “you’re confident.”
heeseung shrugs, smiling. “you’re predictable.”
you huff at that, watching as he moves about, unpacking the plastic bags and taking the utensils from the drawer. he places them in front of you, then unpacks the dishes he ordered when you were napping on the couch. true to his words, he did know your favourites though you weren’t ready to admit.
you point to a random container. “who is this for? your other girlfriend?”
heeseung glances over briefly. “of course not. she doesn’t like rice.” he says and though he’s turned away to arrange the rest of the meal, you can hear the smirk in his voice.
“why can’t i hear any remorse in your voice?”
“probably because i don’t feel any.”
“hee…” you trail off disapprovingly, and he finally looks over at you. he’s wearing the smile you expected him too, eyes curved into crescents, making him all the more like a mischievous cat. your heart flutters slightly at the sight, cursing him internally for being so pretty. you stifle your own smile. “what’s so funny about cheating?”
“nothing. i’m laughing at you and your scrunched up face. like a persian cat.”
“this cat’s about to fight, heeseung. so you better watch out.”
heeseung places a delicate hand over his mouth in faux surprise before his grin appears again. he reaches over to ruffle your hair before moving on to bring out drinks from the fridge. “you’re going to eat me up?” he says from behind the fridge door.
despite yourself, you blush at his tone. “i’m not that hungry.”
“that wasn’t the hunger i was implying and you know it.” he closes the door, juggling drinks in his hands which you stand up and take from him. as you stand closer, he places a kiss on your forehead. “you’re going to have to satiate your hunger with the takeout. for the other kind of hunger though, let’s see if there’s still room for dessert after.”
P. JAY ) —
morning rouses you bright and early, sunlight causing your eyes to squint. you flail your arm to the other side of the bed and when it fails to make contact with your boyfriend, you finally look over. the sheets on his side are cold, and when the scent of breakfast hits your nose, you realise he’s probably started his day earlier.
its this smell that leads you down the stairs to the kitchen where jay is softly humming along to a song playing on his phone. spatula in one hand, phone in other and his attention anywhere but you, you secretly enjoy this moment.
until you slip your arms around his waist, snuggling into his back. “jay.” you say, muffled by his shirt.
“hm?”
“what’re you making? come back to bed.”
he dodges your attempts to pull him back opting instead to step closer to the stove. “hold on, i was told to watch these pancakes and flip them at two minutes… i can’t mess this up.”
you huff, feeling his warmth leave. your face scrunches up and perhaps if he would turn around and apologise with a smile or a kiss on your lips, you might have forgiven him. but jay continues to pour his attention into the steaming pan and you can’t help but feel childish. “who told you? your other girlfriend?”
“what?” jay’s head turns to you in a flash, eyes darting to pick up your body language at your sudden accusation. he’s finally facing you but it’s all so quick, too quick for you to school your facial features. you turn your head to the side and rub your arms, hoping to cover up your clumsy acting.
“another girlfriend? where did that come from, y/n?” he dips his head to try and meet your eyes when you don’t respond. “hey, look at me.”
“you’re not denying it.” its a losing battle, you know he has you in the palm of his hand but still you resist as much as you can at his wave of concern. “so there is another? is she the homewrecker or am i?”
“baby there’s no homewrecker!”
“ah, so you’re playing us both for fun.”
“there’s not another girl!” he places a gentle finger under your chin, tilting your head so that you can finally make out the surprise and caution in his eyes.
looking in his eyes, you manage a, “there’s more than two then?”
“there’s not one or two girls! there’s just you!”
you can’t take it anymore. the slight wiggle at the corner of lips spreads and you let out the laughter building up inside, cackling at the panic on his face. the tension eases from his shoulders as he watches you, laughter contagious enough for him to crack his own small smile. “that wasn’t funny at all.”
“your other girlfriend would have found it hilarious.”
“okay enough.”
S. JAKE ) —
jake has been acting strange all week. you’ve noticed his eyes would flicker to his phone constantly, during conversations or on dates, and one hand would never fail to be touching it, never straying far. when the two of you sit down for meals, he would place his phone face down, picking it up to check the screen every couple of seconds. and when he wasn’t obsessing over his phone, his fingers would tap a fast rhythm on whatever surface he could get his hands on.
you look up during dinner just as jake sighs, putting his phone back down on the table when the notification fails to satisfy him.
“everything okay?” you watch as your question sends an unnerving shiver down his spine.
he chokes, hand coming up to cover his mouth. “sorry, what?”
you reach over to hand him a napkin. “you’ve been jumpy all week. is everything okay?”
“of course.” he flashes you a smile at your concern. on any other day, this might have won you over if not for the fact that even as he replies, his hands slide over to cover his phone.
you frown, letting the topic drop to watch his movements. right next to his phone was the fried chicken the both of you had ordered and he releases his phone to pick up the second last piece, happily munching down.
you had complete trust in jake and your loving relationship but curiosity didn’t allow you to ignore his suspicious actions. and there was really only one way to check if there was anything sinisterhappening.
you stand up from the table and lean forward, hand out in his general direction.
jake blinks out of his daze, his own hands coming up to shield the chicken.
your hand safely lands on his phone.
“ah.” jake blinks at your hand, motionless on the table before he jumps into action. “wait!”
"what's got you so engrossed in your phone? your other girlfriend?"
"no!" he doesn't make any attempt to snatch his phone back, but his eyes keep fluttering nervously from your face to your hand. "i'm just... waiting on an email. babe, i promise it isn't what you think. there is no other girl. i can show you my screentime!"
when he does, you stare unimpressed at his accumulated hours on gmail. "you're chatting up a girl on gmail?"
"no!"
you giggle at his nervous outburst, sitting back down to regard him fondly. "i'm just joking. you wouldn't be this sloppy at covering up an affair."
he groans, pocketing his phone. "that isn't a compliment, y/n." the nervousness remains, but the weight on his shoulder lifts slightly.
at the end of the week, you find out what it was he was hiding in the form of a small jewelry box, presented to you in the palm of his hand.
P. SUNGHOON ) —
the cold seeps through the wall and through the polyester of your sweater as you lean against your kitchen wall, picking at the stray threads. your friend continues to drone on about her latest crush, some guy from her korean class, and because she’s already told you the night before, you let out simple absentminded hums at her words. your eyes track to your boyfriend on the couch who was waiting for your return.
the shrill of your phone’s ringtone had prompted a scream from the both of you as you cuddled on the couch watching the latest horror film, giggling to each other at the ridiculous reaction. what began as a promise of a short phone call slowly dragged on, minute after minute until sunghoon couldn’t wait any longer and whipped out his phone to scroll through tiktok.
“i’m losing you, aren’t i?” your friend asks suddenly, and you jump to reassure her.
“no! no, it’s fine i’m listening i promise.”
“are you with your boyfriend?”
a smile escapes you. “yeah, just watching a movie, nothing crazy.”
“did you forgive him then? after what he did yesterday?”
her words make you frown as you recall the small prank he had played on you. you had come home to a frantic text stating the “toilet was smoking!!” and rushed in, even forgetting to take your work shoes off, only to find your toilet dressed up, two big googly eyes at its front and a slightly squashed toilet roll wedged between the seat and the closed lid. in response, you had sat hoon in timeout.
you groan again, replaying the annoyance in your head. “i swear this guy teases me more than he loves me.”
“i think that’s just his love language.”
“well, it’s pissing me off.” you grumble, unimpressed.
“have you ever done anything to get back at him?” your friend’s words make you pause. simply put, you had never even considered being on the offensive. “girl, get him back! confront him as if he’s cheating, that’ll get his heart rate up.”
the image of a flustered sunghoon causes you to grin and you warm to the idea immediately. “you are incredible, one second.”
you sneak back to the sofa, placing your hand on his shoulder to alert him of your presence. before you can get anything out, just as your mouth opens and without even turning to face you, sunghoon says, “done talking with your other boyfriend yet?”
your mind blanks. “huh?” you ask intelligently.
“your other boyfriend, obviously. i saw you smiling and giggling to him on the phone. forgot all about me, huh?”
you open and close your mouth speechlessly. “no i—!”
a smile suddenly breaks across his face. “got you.”
realization dawns on you like a bad smell. “not funny.”
he reaches over and slings an arm over your shoulder and you settle in subconsciously, unaware as he hangs up on your call. “forget about your side piece, pay attention to me.”
izzy806
ellievsbear
