I'm Gonna Throw Up... That's My Husband Right There

Love 119 [Part Two]

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part one]

pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: enemies at work, lovers at home. secret dating. jungwon is hot when jealous, suggestive, fluff summary: your coworkers think that you and niki look cute together while jungwon, your boyfriend is literally standing next to you and it's driving him insane. word count: 3.5k author's note: hey everyone! as promised, i'm here to serve another paramedic jungwon brainrot because it's not fair to just devour this cutesy alone. enjoy and leave some notes <3 read part 1 first and reply if you want to get tagged for the next parts!

You’re midway through a lukewarm coffee in the hospital cafeteria when your coworker leans in, voice low and eyes gleaming with intrigue. “So…” she starts, drawing the word out slowly, “who’s the lucky guy?”

It takes you a second, but the question sinks in just as she tilts her head, nodding toward your neck with a smirk. Your hand instinctively rises to the spot Jungwon’s lips had claimed last night, right at the juncture of your neck and shoulder—a parting gift as you’d curled up together, something you didn’t think twice about until now.

A blush surges to your cheeks. “What? Oh, no, that’s… I scratched it too hard,” you say quickly, heat rising not only from the surprise but the memory of last night—Jungwon’s sleepy grin, the way he’d pulled you close, whispering in your ear as he pressed soft kisses down the curve of your neck.

“Sure you did,” she teases, crossing her arms as her smirk widens. “You’re going to need a better excuse than that. So… is it Niki?”

“What?” you laugh, the idea so out of the blue it’s almost comical. “Niki? Why would you even think that?”

She shrugs, the smugness on her face never faltering. “You always have a soft spot for him. You never scold him like the rest of us. Plus, everyone’s seen the way he hovers around you in the halls, he’s clearly smitten.”

Your eyes widen at the notion. Niki, your young, eager junior who fumbles his way through shifts and who you can’t help but look after because he’s new and a little too starry-eyed for his own good? It’s laughable. “It’s not like that,” you manage, shaking your head. “He’s just… young, that’s all.”

“Mhmm,” she says with a knowing chuckle. “Sure, if you say so.”

Before you can protest further, your phone vibrates. Glancing down, you find a message from Jungwon: a photo of his lunch, neatly arranged with a sweet message beneath it. “Eat well, ily.”

The casual intimacy of it makes your stomach flip, and you feel an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You quickly swipe away the notification, hoping she didn’t see the smile or the faint hearts in your eyes.

The day unfolds in the usual rush of patient check-ins, chart updates, and emergency calls. You busy yourself to the point where the cafeteria conversation drifts from your mind—until you catch a glimpse of yourself in the break room mirror and spot the faint outline of that now-infamous hickey, the concealer having barely managed to mask it. You tug your collar higher, hoping to hide it through the rest of the shift.

The afternoon in the ER has been a blur of movement and urgency, leaving you barely a moment to breathe. Every time an ambulance pulls up, your heart skips a beat, half-hoping, half-dreading that it’ll be Jungwon walking through those doors.

But each time, it’s someone else, and you return to the steady rhythm of your work, instructing Niki at your side as he follows your lead. Despite the tense environment, he’s attentive and focused, learning from you as he manages each step of the patient’s treatment with remarkable ease.

Afterward, you and Niki head back to the department office, the adrenaline settling as you both chat lightly, unwinding from the chaotic pace. As you enter, you spot Jungwon down the corridor, heading the other way with a stack of documents.

It’s almost comical how, even amidst the bustling hospital, his presence stands out so starkly to you. For a split second, he glances your way, and the fleeting moment feels charged, pulling your attention and making it impossible to look away. But as soon as your eyes meet, you glance down, hoping no one notices how that brief connection leaves your pulse racing.

Once back at your desk, you feel your coworkers’ eyes on you, their curious glances flickering between you and Niki. You try to brush it off as nothing, settling into your usual seat, with Niki across from you. Just as you’re starting to sift through some files, Jungwon’s familiar stride enters the department office.

His easy confidence fills the room, and he greets everyone with that understated charm, heading to a nearby colleague to ask for specific documents. You’re not even looking at him, but his presence is impossible to ignore. You focus on your papers, hoping that looking busy might steady your nerves, but the pages blur in front of you, your mind too distracted by the fact that he’s just a few steps away.

Then, just as you’re juggling a pile of documents, you accidentally knock over your iced coffee. The mostly empty cup clatters over, spilling what’s left onto your coat. The moment the coffee splashes onto your coat, Niki and Jungwon are both at your side in an instant. Niki’s quick to pull out a box of tissues, while Jungwon silently holds out a pristine handkerchief, a touch of annoyance already flickering in his gaze.

Caught off-guard, you instinctively reach for Niki’s tissues, leaving Jungwon standing there with his handkerchief, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you dab at the stain.

Your coworkers notice the scene and immediately latch onto it, their laughter filling the room. "Oh, come on, you two," one of them teases, grinning at the pair of you. "Why don’t you just date already?”

Another chimes in, "Yeah, it’s obvious there’s something going on. I mean, look how attentive Niki is—always ready to help you out."

You wave them off, laughing it away, but the teasing only grows louder. Someone else playfully nudges Niki. "What’s next, bringing her coffee in the morning?"

Niki laughs, scratching the back of his head, visibly flustered. "Come on, guys, we’re just… coworkers," he insists, though his blush only adds fuel to the fire.

Meanwhile, you can feel Jungwon’s gaze on you, sharper and more intense than ever. His silence speaks volumes; the usual relaxed confidence he carries seems to be tinged with something harder, a jealousy that simmers just beneath the surface. It unsettles you, tugging at something guilty inside as the teasing around you grows.

Suddenly, Jungwon steps forward to you, interrupting the chatter with a clipped tone. "Enough with the tissues,” he says, leveling his gaze at you, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Stop fussing with that coat—you’re only making it worse. Change into something clean, or the smell will stick with you all day.”

The room falls silent, your coworkers exchanging amused glances. You roll your eyes, unwilling to let him get the last word.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Practicality. I can handle a few drops of coffee,” you retort, folding your arms and meeting his gaze with a defiant tilt of your chin.

He raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

"Right, because dealing with a coffee stain is something you’re well-prepared for," he says dryly, folding his arms to match yours. "Clearly, practicality isn’t your strong suit."

You scoff, refusing to back down. "And since when did you become an expert in coffee stain management? It’s barely noticeable, and I’m perfectly fine with it."

Jungwon’s gaze doesn’t waver, the challenge sparking between you both as he leans in just a fraction, his voice lower. "Just because you’re fine with it doesn’t mean everyone else is." His eyes flick down to the stain and then back up to yours, a knowing glint in them.

Your coworkers are watching with raised brows, amused but also visibly intrigued by the tension between the two of you. "Are we interrupting something?” one of them jokes, breaking the silence. "Honestly, the way you two bicker is like a married couple."

The comment makes you blush, but Jungwon doesn’t flinch. Instead, he holds your gaze, his smirk deepening. "At least one of us knows how to handle these little emergencies,” he quips, voice steady, though there’s a hint of something raw behind his eyes—a hint of jealousy that only you can catch. The way he’s looking at you, there’s no mistaking it: he’s anything but amused by the teasing around Niki.

But before you can respond, Niki steps forward, awkwardly placing his coat over your chair. “Um, here,” he says, clearly trying to ease the tension. “You can wear mine for now if the coffee’s bothering you that much.”

The room erupts into more laughter, someone nudging Niki with a grin. "See? He’s a gentleman. Really, you two should just make it official."

Another coworker teases, "Or maybe they already have, and they’re just not telling us."

Jungwon’s expression hardens as he watches the exchange, his eyes narrowing. His gaze flickers from Niki to you, a frustration simmering beneath his calm facade.

You feel the tension growing, an almost tangible weight of jealousy in the way his jaw clenches, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.

Finally, he speaks up, cutting through the laughter with a controlled but slightly irritated tone. "Enough of the matchmaking." His gaze falls pointedly on you, something possessive flickering there, though he masks it quickly. "And you should change. That coffee smell won’t just vanish."

You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down. "If it bothers you so much, why don’t you bring me a change of clothes yourself?"

"Thanks," he says shortly, taking the stack of paperwork with a polite nod. He turns back to you and your coworkers, offering a quick, “See you all later. Take care, everyone.” His voice is casual, but as his gaze lingers on you for a fraction of a second longer, you feel the weight of everything left unsaid.

With that, Jungwon strides toward the door, his usual self-assured calm back in place. You watch him leave, but just as he reaches the exit, your phone buzzes in your hand. You glance down, your pulse quickening as you read the message from him:

“I have something you can change into in the back of the car.”

It’s simple, yet there’s something about it that makes your stomach flip. You glance up just in time to catch Jungwon’s silhouette disappearing down the hallway, feeling the tension of the moment linger in the air long after he’s gone.

The rest of your shift rolls by with its usual demands, and you brush off the incident from earlier, deciding against getting the change of clothes Jungwon offered. By the time you finally clock out, the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the nearly empty parking lot. Just as you step out of the hospital doors, Jungwon’s car pulls up in front of the exit.

You feel a small smile tugging at your lips as you walk over and slip into the passenger seat. “Hey,” you greet him, but his focus remains straight ahead, his hands firm on the wheel, his paramedic uniform clinging to his form. The sight of him in that navy blue uniform, complete with the badge and patches, usually makes your heart race, but today his expression is unreadable. A flicker of surprise hits you. Jungwon, who is usually quick with a playful remark, doesn’t even turn his head as you settle in, leaving you feeling a bit deflated.

You tilt your head, watching him closely, noticing the slightest crease of annoyance in his brow. With a slight pout, you try breaking the ice, “So, how was your day?”

He answers, but his tone is clipped, barely more than a few words. "Busy. The usual."

You blink, feeling a hint of tension in the air. Normally, he’d be cracking jokes or filling the car with easy chatter, but now he’s focused on the road with a seriousness that feels almost uncharacteristic.

Leaning back in your seat, you give him a sideways glance. “Is this about the clothes?” you finally ask, crossing your arms as you look at him. “Are you upset I didn’t change into them?”

A quick denial. “No,” he says, a bit too fast, but still refusing to look your way.

You can’t help but smile a little, noticing his hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual. “Uh-huh. Doesn’t sound like you’re not upset,” you tease, leaning forward to get a better look at his face.

“I’m not upset,” he repeats, but he’s biting his lip, eyes fixed stubbornly ahead as if he’s hyper-focused on the road. His brow furrows, and he lets out a soft sigh.

“Come on, Jungwon, it’s cute when you sulk,” you say, your smile widening at the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly, revealing his irritation in the most subtle way.

This finally gets a reaction. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing just a little. “I’m not sulking,” he mumbles, but the denial lacks its usual conviction.

“You look pretty sulky to me,” you murmur, enjoying the rare moment of catching him off guard.

Just then, the car comes to a stop at a red light, and you glance over to find him holding a long breath, his expression somewhere between frustration and fondness. The tension in the air shifts slightly as he turns his gaze towards you, and in that moment, you feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

Without breaking eye contact, he places his right hand gently on your lap, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting that familiar spark between you two. It’s a simple gesture, yet it feels so intimate, especially with the way he’s staring at you as if he’s trying to convey everything he can’t say out loud.

He resumes driving as the light turns green, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his voice softens, a hint of vulnerability slipping through the usual bravado. “I’m not upset,” he assures you, though the sincerity behind his words hints at something deeper, something he’s wrestling with beneath the surface.

You can’t help but smile at him, the weight of his earlier mood lifting slightly. “Then what’s with the whole silent treatment? You know you can just tell me, right?”

Jungwon shakes his head, a faint smile creeping onto his face despite his mood.

“It’s more complicated than that,” he says, his voice maintaining a lightness that’s undercut by an earnest edge. “I don’t want to be the guy who gets all worked up over people assuming you and Niki are a thing.”

You bite your lip, the realization sinking in that his jealousy is more about their perceptions than the spilled coffee earlier.

“Well, I’m definitely not dating Niki,” you reply softly, trying to ease his tension. “He’s just a good coworker. You know that.”

He glances at you briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile as he focuses back on the road.

“Good,” he mutters, his hand still gently rubbing your thigh, sending tingles coursing through you. The intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race.

He passes another intersection and accelerates, the car moving smoothly through the streets.

“But you know,” you continue, trying to keep the mood light, “if you were just a little quicker with your offer, I wouldn’t have to deal with all this teasing.”

Jungwon lets out a soft chuckle, the tension in the car easing slightly. “I thought I was quick enough,” he says, a playful tone returning to his voice. “How was I supposed to know you’d be so stubborn?”

“Stubborn? Me? Never,” you tease, rolling your eyes dramatically.

He shakes his head with a laugh, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh, a subtle reminder of the unspoken bond between you two. As he navigates the streets, the silence stretches comfortably, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of traffic.

“Hey, you should know,” you add after a moment, “if you want to make sure I’m not wearing Niki’s clothes, maybe you should just… keep me in yours.”

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Is that your way of saying you want me to dress you?”

“Maybe,” you reply coyly, biting your lip again, the playful banter making you feel bold.

He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls into a quiet parking lot. “You really know how to make me feel like I’m the jealous one, huh?”

“Just speaking the truth,” you say, leaning back into the seat, enjoying the rhythm of the moment.

As he turns off the engine, the atmosphere shifts slightly, the playful banter fading into a more intimate silence. Jungwon finally meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Just so you know, it’s not about Niki. I just…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “I want to be the one you lean on, the one you trust.”

Your heart swells at his confession, a warmth spreading through you. “You are, Jungwon. You’re the one I always want to lean on.”

He smiles, a genuine light returning to his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right.

When you arrive at your apartment, Jungwon opens the door for you, the familiar scent of your space washing over you. As soon as you step inside, he follows closely behind, and before you can even set your bag down, he closes the door and turns to face you.

In an instant, the air between you shifts. Jungwon steps forward, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. You barely have time to react before he captures your lips with his in a deep, passionate kiss that takes your breath away. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you and the electric tension that crackles in the air.

His lips move against yours with a fervor that surprises you, and you feel your heart racing, responding instinctively as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, his mouth coaxing yours open as he explores the sweetness of your taste. It’s intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the moment, your worries and doubts melting away.

In the midst of the kiss, he breaks away for just a moment, breathless and looking down at you with those soft eyes. “I can still smell the coffee,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You giggle, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the reminder of the earlier incident making you giddy. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for that to happen,” you reply, your voice teasing but breathless.

“Maybe I should get you a proper change of clothes next time,” he quips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But then he adds, more seriously, “You should probably take those off; the smell will cling to you.”

His suggestion sends a thrill through you, and you find yourself biting your lip in excitement. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want me to take them off?” you tease, your heart racing as you lean closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. “Okay, maybe it’s a little selfish,” he admits, his breath ghosting over your skin as he moves in even closer.

With a playful grin, you decide to indulge him. “Fine, but only if you do too,” you say, your fingers finding the buttons of his uniform. You start to unbutton it, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation. Each button that comes undone reveals more of his toned physique, and your breath hitches as you take in the sight of him.

As your fingers glide over the fabric, Jungwon watches you, his expression a mixture of desire and admiration. “You know, this might be the best idea you’ve ever had,” he murmurs, his voice low and enticing.

You finally push the uniform off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. In that moment, the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intimate. He captures your lips again, and you feel the heat between you both intensify as you pull away the last barriers that had been keeping you apart.

Just when you think it can't get any more intense, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he admits, his breath mingling with yours, creating a palpable tension that thrums in the air.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask, your voice teasing yet filled with warmth.

“You know I can’t let everyone find out I’m dating the hottest doctor in the hospital, or else…” he argues, a playful grin breaking through his earlier seriousness.

“Oh, please,” you bite back with a smirk, playfully nudging him. “Like they wouldn’t notice that the ‘sexiest and charming paramedic’ is completely smitten.”

With a smile that could light up the room, you lean in for another kiss, feeling the world around you fade away once again as you get lost in him.

;; the beginnings of our little family.

PAIRING ! lee heeseung x reader ; ft. ddongsik, hee’s unofficial son the kitten

GENRE ! fluff

SYNOPSIS ! basically just heeseung with cats <3

WC. ! 0.7k

A/N. ! this is for rey ( @heeracha ) <3 it’s her birthday today (so go send her lots and lots of birthday wishes !!) and this is my gift to her <333 // rey, since i can’t exactly give you a typical physical birthday present (even though i would truly love to) bc we live on opposite ends of the world, i couldn’t think of anything better than to write you a short drabble of heeseung with ddongsik as a gift to you for your bday 🫶🏻 this is gonna sound cheesy but it’s true ok i love you tons, thank you for everything, for being there for me, and for all the joy you’ve provided me in my life. this is my first time spending your birthday with you, and i hope we get to celebrate tgt for many more years to come <3 i love you sm rey, happy birthday 🥺🫶🏻

“y/n,” you turned to your boyfriend who called your name to see him sitting on the floor with sparkles in his eyes and a wide smile on his lips, holding a tiny, grey-brown kitten, “let’s adopt him.”

Keep reading

⪩.⪨ — KITTY LOVE! ҂ lee minho oneshot

SYNOPSIS! there's this craze about puppy love that everyone seems to enjoy. however, you find that you don't quite get what the fuss is all about. you are way more interested in your cat-like neighbour who seems cold and kind of annoying. the boy who acts like everyone's existence burdens him to no end but quietly takes care of the elderly lady on your block, helps children back to their feet when they fall, and holds the elevator door so it doesn't close on you.

PAIRING! lee minho x fem!reader

GENRES! boy next door au, strangers to (very brief and one-sided) enemies to lovers, fluff, some angst, minho is a tease but he can get away with it bc he's cute.

WARNINGS! swearing, brief mentions of reader being a bit insecure about dating, suggestive themes but no smut, minho turns eggs into an innuendo, i think i got the gender of minho's cats right??? but i could be wrong, so sry about that if that's the case fkfjskshsj. please do tell me if i missed any!

WORD COUNT! 11k

A.N! if you see me reposting this bc it didn't show up in the tags when i first posted it and as the attention whore that i am i can't have that no you didn't :_) as always, english is not my first language so i apologise if there are any mistakes! i hope you enjoy it!

“and when are you going to get a boyfriend, dear?”

you sigh in an attempt to keep your cool and not lash out to your mom. you know she means good; she always does, especially when it comes to you. but it's like older relatives never know how tiring this whole “you should get a boyfriend” conversation is. why do you need a boyfriend anyway? sure, you've had a fair share of crushes growing up, but they were never serious enough for you to want to do anything about them. and it has been enough for you, it just has. what's so difficult to understand about a person being completely okay with being single?

“i've already told you, mom. whenever it happens, it happens. and until then i'm not going to force myself to find someone.”

“i know, i know.” you hear your mom sigh at the other end of the line. she clearly doesn't agree with your position on this, but she always respects your decisions. you are glad for that. “it's just that i feel like you won't be able to meet anyone in that new place of yours.” you know exactly what she means by that.

it's been a month since you moved to your current apartment. your previous one was a shabby, tiny thing that was overpriced with the excuse of it being placed right on the city centre. your new place, on the other hand, is on the outskirts of the city, but it's much more spacious, and it's not falling apart by the moment. you don't mind putting up with long bus rides to get to your workplace. in fact, you enjoy the peace and quiet, the time it gives you to organise your thoughts on your way to work or wherever you may be going. and there's a supermarket relatively near your place, so you can't complain about that. it's safe to say that you're a lot happier with your new home, but your mom just can't see that. she's too busy thinking about when you're going to bring a son-in-law for her and your dad to meet or when you're going to give them grandchildren, even if you consider yourself far too young to even be considering marriage or children. that's why she liked your old place. it was near all the popular clubs and bars, giving you the perfect chance to mingle; a chance you never took in all the time you lived there.

you think something's not right. like, you know something is definitely wrong in your life when your mom is hinting at you that you should spend more time partying at questionable places in order to get laid.

and you wish this was a “your mom” thing, but your friends have similar opinions to hers. sure, they don't want to rush you into marriage and children at every chance they have, but they have told you several times that a relationship would probably add happiness to your life. that it's strange how they've never seen you head over heels for anyone ever since they've known you.

your feet softly thud against the wooden flooring of your living room as you walk to your window, feeling like you need the pretty view to calm yourself enough to get through this call. as you move the curtain to get a better view of the park that's a couple of blocks away, you catch sight of your neighbour walking along the street, heading to your block, presumably getting back home from somewhere. you recognise him from a time you were just getting to your place and he suddenly came out of his, rushing down the stairs.

suddenly, a child appears running down the street and trips right beside him. you see him help the little boy back to his feet, dust off the dirt from his knees and ruffle his hair with a smile before resuming his walk back home. you smile.

you blame your mom and your friends when what you've just seen makes you say:

“i don't know mom, love happens at unexpected times and places.” that's unlike you, you aren't that much of a romantic. you know that much, and you know that your mom knows that much, so you don't give her a chance to say anything. “look, i have to get some work done, but i'll call you again tomorrow. love, you, mom! bye!” and you hang up on her.

love? sure, your neighbour is cute, and he seems pretty nice, but you don't even know the guy's name. you don't even know why you mentioned love in the first place.

famous last words.

a few days later, you're on cleaning duty around your apartment. you've got some dusting and sweeping and mopping to do, as well as some windows to clean. some meaning all. not to mention the good scrubbing that the tub needs. well, “needs” is a bit of a strong word; you could probably go for a few days more without doing anything, but you're a bit of a clean freak, so your place has to be spotless all the time for you to be happy. which means that you're properly attired to get this shit done with the most worn-out pyjamas that you own, some crappy flip flops and an unidentifiable hairstyle that does the job of keeping your hair out of your face but probably makes you look like birds live on top of your head. and cleaning day means something else.

you have music blasting through your whole house.

you think it's a good thing that your neighbours haven't told you off so far; you assume they don't mind the occasional loud music from you, or they would have done so in the month that you've already been living here. they haven't complained about you singing at the top of your lungs either, so either they're cool about it, or they meet each week to plan your murder. whatever the case, you're here for a good time, not a long time, so you will take the chance of giving a mini concert for yourself while you clean while you can.

except, the “for yourself” part doesn't actually exist. it's just an illusion created by your senses, a scam, a fallacy. you just don't know it yet.

you're currently standing on top of a chair in the tiny balcony of your living room, and to any outsider it might look like you have a death wish against the poor glass doors with how furiously you're wiping them.

your next door neighbour, lee minho, certainly thinks it must look like that to anyone who isn't within hearing range as he is. he himself would have thought so too if it weren't for the way you're cheerfully singing along 22 by taylor swift. minho's house is structured the exact same way as yours, and his living room has a tiny balcony of its own, which is where he's watching you from with a mug of coffee in his hand and an amused grin adorning his features. you're so entranced with your current task at hand, the song you're singing to or both that you don't even notice the boy in the balcony next to yours. he doesn't want to be a creep though, he just decided to stand there a moment longer because you two haven't actually crossed paths yet and he knows you've been living in the block for a while, so he was curious about you.

and he sure is pleased with how... interesting of a neighbour you seem to be. so he just lets his gaze linger for a moment longer and goes back inside to save him the accusation of being a stalker and you the embarrassment of knowing someone is hearing you when this clearly looks like a one person activity.

the image of you stays with minho for a good part of the day, and each time he remembers a smile threatens to take over his face.

however, another week goes by before you actually see each other.

you're going back to your place in the unbearable heat of mid-july and carrying three very heavy bags with your groceries. you consider getting your groceries delivered to your place next time, and then you feel guilty for whoever you'd be putting through this hell for a shitty salary. you give up on having groceries without suffering the heat, but right now you have more pressing matters at hands. you still have a few minutes to your house and you don't trust your abilities to get there without melting into a puddle on your way. if it's any indication, your underboob is already sweating. you hate it here.

by some divine working, you get to your block in one piece, and the sound of relief you let out when you get through the main door is ungodly. you think this hell of a ride is over until you catch sight of the elevator.

oh hell no.

cute neighbour guy is inside idly looking at his phone and the doors are starting to close. now, you don't have much to complain about your flat or your block in general. but the elevator, the damn elevator, is slower than a university's administration office when you desperately need a reply from them. which means you'll be stuck out of your home for longer if you don't get on that damn thing within the next few seconds. and like, you know this isn't a big deal. you know. how much longer can you possibly have to wait to get home if you don't make it to the elevator? 5 to 10 minutes at most? that's not long.

you know.

and yet you're at a point in this adventure that going grocery shopping in july is where every minor inconvenience will either infuriate you or reduce you to tears without a good reason. you guess that's what spending the morning doing your least favourite activity in your least favourite conditions does to you.

your neighbour must hear the rustling of your bags because he lifts his head from the screen of his phone and the two of you make eye contact for a second. oh he sure is handsome. you're about to get swayed by his pretty eyes, his fluffy dark hair, the perfect curve of his nose, his perfect-looking face in general. and for the love of beyoncé, this man has some pretty thick thighs. his overall proportions just seem godly, and you're looking at him from a distance. you're about to make heart eyes at this fine-looking man when-

wait.

did he just roll his eyes at you?

you blink and huff in a sort of angry confusion, and next thing you know, he's sticking his hand between the elevator doors, keeping them from closing. as they open again, he calls out to you.

“oi, neighbour! you getting in or what?” you blink again.

are you tired enough to get irritated by everything or is he being low-key rude at you right now? dude just held an elevator door for you and yes, you're grateful that he's saved you a longer wait, but why is he acting like he unwillingly donated one of his kidneys to his worst enemy?

“yeah?” you answer, but it sounds more like a question. you move towards the elevator again, struggling with the damn bags. “yeah, i am.” you repeat, firmer this time. “thanks for that.” he just nods at you in acknowledgement.

“third floor, right?” he asks. you say yes, slightly surprised that he seems to know you live right next door to him. but then again, you knew before talking to him too.

hold on. oh fuck.

is he being rude to you because he's pissed at you playing loud music and singing? are the weekly meetings to plan your murder a thing after all? oh shit. that would actually make sense. do you apologise? or would that be weird? you haven't even introduced yourselves, it would definitely be weird. you take a deep breath. okay, okay. you got this. let's do this step by step.

“my name is y/n. we're actually next door neighbours.” you give him a polite smile.

he snorts. he has the audacity to snort at you.

“i know.” you think that's going to be it, but at least he has the decency to introduce himself as well. “i'm minho.” he offers his hand for you to shake as if you weren't holding three giant bags, and by the teasing glint in his eyes you know that it's not an innocent mistake. “right.” he smirks, looking down to your bags and back to your face as if to let you know that yes, he in fact did that on purpose, and then the elevator reaches your floor.

you can't believe you ever thought this guy was nice. in your defense, you think most people would have been fooled with the way he treated that kid that time you caught a glimpse of him through your window. but you’re still pissed to learn this. why does he have to be this hot if he's going to be an asshole?

you make up your mind to just go on with your day, get into your house, forget that this ever happened and avoid having to talk to this guy for longer. the bags on your hands suddenly feel lighter when you practically jump off the elevator and sprint to your door.

apparently, this minho guy has other plans.

“i'll see you around, neighbour.” he calls behind your back. you know he's still smirking even before you turn to look at him working his front door open. “nice singing, by the way.” he raises an eyebrow at you before he gets in and closes the door behind him.

you actually drop your bags at that. you knew there was a good chance he'd been able to hear you all this time, and in every other situation it wouldn't have phased you. but when it seems like he's mocking you after how rude he's managed to be to you in the span of a couple of minutes? now you're both flustered and pissed.

“oh shit.” you scramble to get your bags again, suddenly remembering that you've bought a dozen of eggs. if even a single one of them has cracked because of this guy...

turns out only one egg survived, as you'd soon discovered with a quick glance at your bag and upon closer inspection later after you got inside your house. but you're convinced that it was minho's fault. and so, you're set on holding him accountable for it.

so you are ringing his doorbell next day.

“hey, neighbour.” an unsuspecting lee minho directs an amused grin at you when he answers the door and what he finds is you. he notices how your arms are crossed and how you're sporting a frown that makes you look, in his humble opinion, more adorable than intimidating.

he has no idea what this is about, but he's here for it.

“hi, minho.” your tone is flatter than a table when you greet him. “i need some eggs.”

he blinks at you once, twice, and for a moment you think it's endearing how he looks like a confused cat. nope, nope, you need to stop right there. we must stay focused, brothers.

“you need eggs.” he repeats after you.

“yes. you startled me when you got into your house yesterday and i dropped my bags.” he raises an eyebrow at you like he did yesterday. does he have to look that hot while doing it? you continue through gritted teeth. “i had my groceries there, and the eggs i bought cracked.”

“really?” he tilts his head to the side and blinks exaggeratedly at you. you nod. “my bad, neighbour.” he doesn't sound a bit sorry.

“my name is y/n.” you were bothered before, but now you're getting pissed.

“i know, you told me yesterday.” on his end, minho is having the time of his life. you are so cute trying to stay calm. in your current stance, you're only missing an irritated tapping of one of your feet to look like thumper from bambi. perhaps he can push you enough to get you to do that, he bets you'd look adorable. ah, he must be losing his mind.

“you keep calling me neighbour.” you point out. minho gives you a very sweet, very charming smile, and you mentally curse at how it actually kind of works.

so much for staying focused.

“aren't we neighbours though?” you sigh.

“whatever. do you have eggs?”

“the question isn't whether i can give you my eggs or not, the question is: are we at that point of our relationship already? we might be going too fast here, neighbour.” he teases. is he making an innuendo out of eggs now?

you take a deep breath.

“look-” you start, but he cuts you off.

“wait, i'll be right back.” he saunters inside his house leaving there, dumbfounded. can this guy get any more irritating?

you're still standing there, probably looking like you're trying to catch flies with your mouth when you hear a soft meow below you, and you find a cat stretching right by your feet. so your annoying neighbour is a hot guy with a cat. why did the universe put the man of your dreams right next door only to make him an asshole? still, you waste no time in getting down and presenting your hand to the kitty.

“oh hi, baby. when did you get here?” you softly call, and when it not only gets closer to you but nuzzles its face against your palm as well, you gasp in delighted awe.

“dori likes you already, huh?” you look up to find minho smiling at you, and this time it's more of a fond smile than a shit-eating grin. the cat goes back to its owner and nuzzles against his legs this time, and you get back to your feet. “here.”

minho shoves two cartons of eggs into your arms. two whole cartons, which is twice what you bought yesterday. he might have gotten on your nerves the couple of times that you've talked to him, but you came here intending to go back with maybe a couple of eggs out of pettiness more than anything, so it feels wrong to take this much from him.

“wait, minho, this is too much. it's more than-” he cuts you off again with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“take them. it was my fault and i bought too many anyway. or is that more eggs than you can take, neighbour?”

well, bye-bye cute, smiley, kind of not that annoying-looking minho, welcome back shit-eating grin, irritating asshole.

“thanks, minho.” as he goes back to annoying, your tone goes back to flat.

“don't mention it. let me know what you think about my eggs next time, neighbour.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and with that, closes his door on your face.

you feel your blood boiling as you go back to your house.

unbeknownst to you, minho saw what happened yesterday in the split second he caught sight of you dropping your bags as he was closing his door and actually felt guilty about it, so he bought the eggs to bring them to you later on that day.

he's glad you've come to him before he had the chance to do so, though. it's been way more fun like this.

the next time you see minho, you find him helping an elderly lady go down the stairs to your floor.

you're locking your door behind you, ready to go hang out at one of your friend's place, when you hear his voice behind you.

“aish, we've talked about this, mrs park. you need to take the elevator.”

you turn around and sure enough, this lady you assume to be one of your neighbours from one of the upper floors is gripping minho's arm with one of her hands and holding a cane with the other as they descend the stairs. with much difficulty on her end, you note.

“don't lecture me, young man.” this mrs park lady spits at him. minho straightens his posture next to her.

“yes, ma'am.” you like this woman already. there's this feeling of satisfaction in seeing minho getting told off that has you quietly snickering.

the sound must reach his ears as his gaze automatically travels to where you're standing. you think he's going to be embarrassed that you just witnessed someone else having the upper hand in a conversation, but he just gives you a lopsided grin.

“hey, neighbour.” you don't bother hiding how you roll your eyes into the next world.

before you can say anything, mrs park speaks up.

“and who is this young lady, min-min?” your eyebrows shoot up at that, and you don't miss the way minho's ears turn red at the nickname. oh, so this is what makes him shy. you take note of it. “did you finally get a girlfriend?”

well, now you are the one feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. you fear minho is, in fact, very capable of telling her that you are actually his girlfriend just to get a reaction out of you, so you walk towards the two of them before he can answer.

“my name's y/n. mrs park, right?” she smiles at you while nodding and she looks like the cutest grandma while doing so. you've been around this lady for a few minutes at most and you'd already do anything for her. maybe it has to do with her scolding minho, you think.

“that's right, dear.”

“i actually moved next to minho a couple of months ago.” you explain, mirroring her smile. you're about to shake her hand, but you notice that it might not be the most comfortable thing for her in her current predicament. “you know what? let me help you get the rest of the way down too.” you tell her, and you offer one of your arms for her to hold like she's doing with minho's, as well as a hand to hold her cane for her. she gladly takes you up on your offer.

“oh, aren't i lucky to have such kind kids as neighbours? thank you, deary. i'll bring you cookies next time. after all, i couldn't properly welcome you when you moved because i didn't know you had.” yep, you would most definitely risk it all for this woman.

“don't even worry about it, mrs park! it's not your fault, and i wouldn't want to inconvenience you.” you tell her as the three of you make your way down the stairs. she doesn't have that many steps left, but her pace is slow, and she hisses in pain with each one she goes down. you understand why minho was ushering her to take the elevator.

“nonsense, dear. it's no inconvenience, i'll get you those cookies soon.” she insists. you'd feel bad if you refuse her too much, so you accept.

“well, in that case, thank you so much. i'm sure they'll be delicious.”

“do i get cookies too, mrs park? yours are the best.” minho butts in, and you catch yourself finding him cute again in the way his eyes sparkle with hopeful joy at the notion of the homemade pastries.

“you know i can't say no to you, min-min, but learn some manners from this young lady.” she tells minho, but both of you can tell she's joking. you assumed as much already, but they must be close with each other.

“yes!” he pumps a fist in the air in victory. “thank you, mrs park.” he smiles the prettiest smile you've ever seen at her as the three of you get down the last step and you think for a moment that you want him to smile at you like that too.

“let me get the elevator for you, mrs park.” you let go of her and give her cane back, already moving to call the elevator. “i know it's slow, and i'd love to help you all the way down, but i think it might be more comfortable for you like this.”

“she's right, mrs park. we can't have you tripping down the stairs again.” minho intervenes.

“again?!” you ask, horrified. you are not letting this woman walk down a single step more, not on your watch.

“that's right, mrs park here tripped down the stairs last year and fractured her hipbone. she gave the whole block quite a scare.”

“oh my god.”

“you make it sound so dramatic. besides, i'm completely recovered now.” mrs park complains, but as much as minho annoys you, you agree with him on this one.

“mrs park, i get what you mean, but minho is looking out for you. there's no harm in using the elevator, right?”

mrs park looks back and forth between minho and you a couple of times and both of you smile the most innocent smiles you can manage at her. she sighs in defeat.

“okay, okay. i'll take the damn thing.” the elevator doors open right then. “now you children get back to whatever you were doing, i've already taken more than enough of your time.” she waves at the two of you as she steps into the elevator.

“will do! it was nice meeting you, mrs park!” you wave back at her with a smile, and so does minho.

“see you, mrs park. i'm looking forward to those cookies.” the elevator doors close, and you're left alone with minho.

“well, that leaves just the two of us, neighbour.” the corners of his mouth tug upwards, and you already fear what he's about to say next. “but pray tell, wouldn't it have been easier for you to get in the elevator with mrs park?” your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. you can’t believe this man.

“couldn't you have said so before the doors closed?” you ask incredulously, and then you realise “wait, but you didn't get in either, you missed it too.” one of his hands flies to the nape of his neck and he lightly scratches it. 

“ah, i actually didn't. i only came out because i heard mrs park and i couldn't let her walk those steps alone.” his smile gets wider, and he shrugs his shoulders. “sorry to disappoint, but you're on your own on this one.”

“i-” this time, it's actually a good thing he cuts you off, because you have no idea what to say, caught between trying to process how surprisingly sweet of minho is to take care of mrs park like that and how exasperated you feel at him right now.

“i'll see you around, neighbour.”

“and is this neighbour of yours handsome, dear?”

you don't know why you even bother at this point.

“mom, for the love of god!” you settle for the softer option of the words that were about to come out of your mouth. “i've barely seen the guy twice and you're already throwing me into his arms.” you exasperatedly munch on one of mrs park's cookies, the sweet treat is very much needed to get you through this phone call. minho was right though; her cookies are the best you've ever had.

“do you want to be thrown into his arms?” she throws at you, and you sputter. what has gotten into your mom?

“this is pointless, i'm hanging up.” you deadpan. your mom laughs at the other end of the line.

“aw, come on. i'm just joking, sweetie. but would it kill you to try to look at him in that light? or anyone for that matter?” see, this is what your mom doesn't know.

the fucking thing is, you see him in that light.

you don't know why your mom is so set in getting you to consider if minho is handsome or not, but the fact is that you very well know he is. you've seen him just a couple of times, but you're too well aware of how attractive your neighbour is. he has it all too: cute, hot, sexy, endearing, you name it. you aren't that sure about his personality because you don't get just why he has to tease you each time he sees you nor do you enjoy being mocked each time he opens his mouth, but he definitely has the looks. you'd be either too blind or too ignorant to even try to deny it.

“mom, i don't think i'd even say we're friends. just because he looks around my age doesn't make it any weirder than if you were trying to set me up with a man old enough to be dad.” you hear some rustling on the other end and then your father is speaking to you. your mom always puts everyone on speaker, so this is no surprise.

“i've been summoned. what's up, petal?”

“dad, tell mom to stop trying to set me up with my neighbour.” you take another bite of your cookie, chewing quickly to continue speaking. “tell her to stop trying to set me up with anyone for that matter.” your dad makes no effort to do such thing.

“your neighbour? what neighbour? who is this young man trying to seduce my baby?”

“dad, you're missing the whole point. no one is being seduce-”

“if you're seeing someone, you better bring him home for me to meet him, young lady.” you silently face-palm.

by the end of the call, both your parents are somehow convinced that you like minho, that he likes you or that you're dating him, you're not sure which one. perhaps all three. well, it's not like you care. no matter how good-looking you think he is you can't picture yourself dating minho, that would be-

wait, why are you imagining what it would be like to date him? you groan. see? this is what talking to your parents does to you.

you take the last bite of the last cookie you have left from the batch that mrs park made for you. you're thinking about how much of a sweet person she seems to be when you're startled by the sound of your doorbell. you make your way to the front door, to find none other than minho on the other side, with his characteristic cocky smile.

“hey, neighbour.”

“uh... hi. can i help you?” you don't know why you find this situation so awkward, but there's something about minho actively looking for you that seems uncharacteristic of him.

“you can, actually. i have a friend over and he's making brownies, but we ran out of sugar.”

“so?” you ask. you have no problem with giving him sugar, but you want to make things a bit difficult for him because he always makes things difficult for you.

“so,” he echoes you. “i was hoping you'd take pity on us and give us some. i think about a cup is all he's missing.”

“mrs park would be disappointed in you, minho.” you feign a disappointed sigh of your own accompanied by a disapproving shake of your head, and when minho looks at you with pure confusion in his eyes you think you're getting good at his little game. “she did tell you to learn some manners, didn't she? and you can't even say please when asking for something.”

minho mutters an “ahh” while nodding his head in understanding before he gets back to the smug smile.

that's not good.

“my dearest, most favourite neighbour.” he dramatically begins, leaning his back to your doorframe and putting a hand to his forehead as if he were about to faint. “would you be oh so gracious with these two fools who didn't properly measure their sugar so as to bestow upon them the immense generosity of sparing some of your own, m'lady?”

at that, he gets down on one knee and delicately takes one of your hands in his own, bringing it to his lips to plant a soft kiss on the back of it without taking his eyes off yours for a single second.

you blink repeatedly.

you stare at minho.

he grins at you from below.

your eyes widen.

you blush.

you yank your hand from his hold as if it burned you to touch him. it somehow feels like that may very well be a possibility.

“h-huh?” you can hear the whistling sound of water boiling in a teapot in your ears if you focus hard enough.

“sugar, neighbour. i asked you if you can please give me some.” he repeats. “your pretty head surely knows what sugar is, right?”

your what now?

at this point, minho is grinning wider than the cheshire cat. he likes annoyed you, but he thinks he prefers flustered you because there's less risk of you actually getting angry at him. and there's the added benefit of seeing you blush, that's cute. so cute, minho finds himself wanting to make you blush more. wanting to kiss the redness on your cheeks. he's definitely losing his mind.

“of course i know what sugar is.” is all you can muster once you're able to somewhat compose yourself. minho finally gets up and dusts his pants off, still smiling at you.

“glad to know, you had me worried for a second there.”

“i'll be right back.” you run away into your house and minho patiently waits at your door.

you want to get this over with as quickly as possible because you don't like not knowing what to do about the frantic pounding of your heart. and most importantly, you can't be bothered to measure one cup, so once you get the sugar, you bring him the whole packet. besides, he did give you too many eggs last time, so it's only fair that you give him extra too.

“here.” in a similar fashion to him, you shove the thing into his chest and he scrambles to take a hold of it. you notice that he is about to protest , so you speak before he does. “you gave me extra eggs last time, so take it. i'll survive without it, i promise.” at that, minho's face lights up again.

“oh, that's right. you never told me what you thought about my eggs, neighbour.” his hand comes up to hold the doorframe as he leans forward, towards you, with that teasing smile of his.

so he's back at it again. however, this time you're set on being the one who gets a reaction out of him. so, not only do you play along whatever this egg innuendo is, but you also try something you've been thinking about for a while now.

you lean forward as well, your faces inches apart. minho doesn't bat an eye at first, and it almost seems like his smile gets even bigger. but that changes once you whisper:

“your eggs were delicious, min-min.” the combination of the nickname, the sultry tone you've used with him, and the way you bite your lip would be bound to end anyone else. but minho is a strong man, so he's just rendered speechless.

this time, it's his eyes getting wide for a change, and they wander to your lips for a split second. even his mouth falls open a little bit. you see the tips of his ears getting red as they did that day when mrs park called him the same nickname and you are pleased with his reaction, guessing that this is the most you can get out of him. mission accomplished, you think to yourself.

and you close the door on his face.

this one goes to you, but the sense of victory is dulled by the fact that all you could think of when getting that close to him was how easy it would be to close the remaining distance and kiss him.

the next morning, you find that a piece of paper has been slid through your front door.

“hey neighbour,

my friend and i ended up making too many brownies, and it's only fair that you get to have some. we couldn't have made them without your stellar support, after all.

swing by whenever you want today and let's have them over a movie :)

- min”

you read and re-read the note. the faces of three cats are doodled right next to his name, and you can't help but feel giddy at the thought that a boy has written you a note inviting you over and has even taken the time to doodle on it. it's the simplest thing, but you find it charming in the most adorable way. guess you are easy to please.

you suddenly freeze in where you're standing.

wait, is this just a friendly hangout between neighbours? or does he want it to be a date? do you want it to be a date? oh god, you want it to be a date. that must make you some sort of masochist, because why else would you voluntarily accept what sounds like an invitation for him to tease you for the whole duration of whatever movie you end up watching? yep, you must be out of your mind. but that doesn't take from the fact you do want this to be a date, so you think it's time to admit that you might have developed a teeny tiny crush on minho.

okay, so you must be into degradation.

that's all you can gather from this newfound piece of information and you guess there's something new to learn every day.

whatever, you don't want to think about this too much. you've had crushes before and they've never gone anywhere, so why would this be any different? thinking about the prospect of liking or dating someone always makes you wonder if the reason you've been single all your life is somehow your fault, and you don't want to get depressive thinking about that.

so you just make up your mind to drop by minho's house in the afternoon and go on with your day until then. you work out, take a shower, have breakfast, do your chores, prepare lunch and laze around until you get hungry enough to have the meal you prepared.

5 pm arrives faster than you expected, and you guess that that's is a decent time to go to minho's house, so you quickly prepare some iced coffee to have with the brownies, change into a comfy outfit and take your keys to exit your house. you kind of walk the short walk from your door to minho's in autopilot, getting suddenly nervous at the prospect of spending that much time alone with him, and you ring his doorbell with a slightly shaky hand.

when minho gets the door, he does a quick once over of your appearance today, which doesn't go unnoticed. he grins that lopsided grin that you've come to like in these few times you've seen each other, and for once, this sight of him makes you smile too. he does his little confused blinking again, but his smile stays, and you swear his voice sounds softer when he greets you with his usual:

“hey, neighbour.”

“hi, i brought coffee.” you lift the bag where you've brought the beverage and minho makes a gesture for you to hand it to him. you try not to think about how warm his hand feels when it brushes against yours. minho ushers you inside with his other hand.

into degradation and touch starved. you keep learning today, it seems.

“come on in.” you follow him inside and try to make the way you're curiously looking around not too obvious. “make sure you close the door behind you, please. wouldn't want the babies to run out.”

“the babies?” you echo his words, making sure that the door is properly closed behind you as he has requested.

“that's right.” you continue following him like a lost puppy until you reach his kitchen. “this is cold, right?” he asks, patting the bag.

you nod at him, and he gets the two cups inside the bag to transfer them to his fridge.

“all set.” he smiles again. “come meet my babies.” you follow him to the living room and he asks you to stay there as he walks along a long corridor that you're guessing leads to the rooms and the bathrooms as it does in your place. you hear the sound of a door being opened and the soft padding of paws against the floor, and before you know it three cats come rushing at you and start meowing at you for attention. have you died and gone to heaven?

“you already know dori,” minho comes closer to where you're crouching to pet the three kitties. “and these are soonie and doongie.” he points at each one and you nod.

you feel like this might be imposing, but you're too overwhelmed with this much cuteness around you, so you can't help but ask:

“do you think they'll want to rip my eyes out if i try picking one of them up?” minho chuckles at that.

he doesn't usually like other people around his cats aside from his family and closest friends, but with the way you're looking at them with starry eyes and the slightest pout on your lips, he knows his babies are in good hands with you.

“try your luck, neighbour. they may not stay still, but they won't lash out. maybe try dori.” he advises. “it's not that much of a difference, but she has already seen you once.”

you nod and focus all your attention on the grey cat. when you gently scoop her up in your arms and she doesn't protest, you feel like you might cry tears of joy. she even lets you scratch her chin and... is that purring you're hearing? oh no, this is bad. you might be in love.

“she doesn't hate me!” you whisper-shout at minho. he chuckles again at your excitement.

“looks like it.”

“she's purring, minho.” he nods.

“i can hear that.”

“she's the cutest thing i've ever seen.” minho bites his tongue to stop himself from saying that you are the cutest thing he's ever seen.

“she takes after her owner.” is what he says instead. you're so entranced that your answer is automatic, unfiltered.

“she does.” you say with a smile. minho freezes as he feels a familiar heat at the tips of his ears, and you seem to notice what you've just said a moment later. you go stiff, and dori is startled enough to jump from your arms. “i mean!” you suddenly find minho's wooden floor, which is identical to yours, to be the most interesting thing in the world. “you do these little things sometimes that are kind of cat-like, you know?” you mumble.

minho gets giddy at the subtle implication that you've been paying attention to him.

“like what?” he asks while crouching to pet soonie, and surprisingly enough, his tone isn't teasing this time, just curious.

“like...” you slowly let you gaze meet his again “like when you blink slowly and many times when you're confused. or the way you sometimes tilt your head to the side. or the way i thought you were kind of an asshole at first but you actually look like you care a lot around the people around you.” you throw in.

that last one is a bit of a reach because you don't really know him that well yet, but you want to know what he has to say about it. fortunately, he doesn't seem offended when he huffs a laugh at you.

“why would you think i was an asshole?” he stands up again. you know he hasn't just asked you that.

“you were rude when we met on the elevator!”

“how was i rude?”

“you're either messing with me right now or you're too dense. you acted like you hated my guts! and you keep making fun of me since then.” you acuse, crossing your arms. minho winces a bit. he does see how he could have come across that way.

“i'm sorry it seemed like that, i'm just not the best at meeting new people.” he explains. “i guess that kind of makes a bit like a cat, huh? but for the record, i've never once made fun of you.” he says, completely serious.

“allow me to disagree.”

“it's true! friendly banter? maybe. a bit of teasing? perhaps. some flirting? definitely, if you hadn't noticed.” he says nonchalantly, and you freeze for a moment again. “but i would never make fun of you.”

“that's good to know.” is all you manage to squeak, and you want to get paid for all the times you blush around this man, because it's happening too often. minho goes back to smiling.

“good. now that that's settled, shall we watch a movie, neighbour?”

the little details were already hinting at it, but minho turns out to be a big softie. you are sitting on opposite ends of his couch so that both of you can have your legs stretched on top of it. his movie of choice is tangled, and you can tell he must have seen it at least as many times as you have to know every song by heart. he incredulously asks you if you aren't going to sing with him during the first one as if that was a given.

“you belt out taylor swift at ungodly hours in the morning but you can't take singing a couple of songs with me, neighbour?” he challenges. of course, you sing every damn song with him.

and it turns out to be a blast. you can't remember when was the last time you had this much fun watching a movie. but then again, neither of you you aren't as focused in the movie as you are in dramatically repeating some of the lines and singing the songs. you try not to think about how your heart speeds up when a more romantic song comes up or every time minho replaces flynn calling rapunzel “blondie” with his trademark “neighbour”.

halfway through the movie, minho takes out the brownies and the coffee.

“here. lix makes the best brownies, but i hope you'll still like my eggs better.” he winks at you. you find yourself smiling for the first time at that joke too.

“again with the eggs? why does it feel like you're using them as codeword for something else?” you tease as he hands you your plate and your cup. you place both on the table in front of the couch, and he does the same when he comes back with his.

“and what do you think they might be codeword for, neighbour?” you just shrug your shoulders. “well, whatever they are, they've been in your mouth” he wiggles his eyebrows at you like he did last time, and you take one of the cushions on the couch to playfully hit him with it.

“pervert.” you acuse.

he takes the cushion from your hands smirking and looks behind for his cats before chucking it without a care as they aren't there.

“maybe i am.” the two of you are left in very close proximity, and you start feeling that familiar heat on your face when your eyes seem to have a mind of their own and automatically dart to his lips. you really need to get paid for blushing around him.

“let's try those brownies.” you back away with a racing heart and pray that you won't drop your food or spill your drink with how shaky you get when you're nervous in the slightest. thankfully you manage to get through without incidents.

minho is right about those brownies being the best, as he was about mrs park's cookies.

“your eggs are definitely in danger after this, minho.” you joke around. “is your friend a pastry chef or something?” his eyes get wide and bright as they did when he asked mrs park if she would bring him cookies.

“he should be one, right? i've told him so hundreds of times!” the two of you practically inhale your brownies as you speak.

“i mean, he should definitely give it a try if it's something he enjoys, he's clearly good at it.” you say, taking another bite.

“good enough to make you forget about my eggs.” he pouts. “you wound me, neighbour. i'm gonna have to wine and dine you to win my rightful first place in your heart back.”

“are you asking me out, min-min?” you throw the nickname at him, not wanting to be the only flustered one in this room.

the usual redness appears on his ears, but he's not as flushed as the other times and there's no doubt in his voice when he says:

“damn right i am. what do you say?”

what do you say? that's a stupid question.

“sure, but are you sure you can top these?” you point at your now empty plate, moving on to what's left of your coffee. minho's lips quiver as if he's trying to contain a smile.

“topping is my favourite thing to do, neighbour.”

you almost spit out your coffee, but you don't have anything to hit him with within reach anymore, so you let it go this time.

you discuss when you'll meet for dinner, the movie long forgotten. minho apologetically tells you that his job is actually keeping him busy for the next couple of weeks or so, and that he won't have the time to cook you the five star course he's promised you until then. he offers to hang out some other day for movies like this if you want though, as he's free during afternoons for the most part. you, of course, say yes.

some other day turns out to be almost every day. minho and you exchanged numbers the day he asked you out to that dinner date, so you guys have been texting as well. there's a lot of your usual bickering and a big amount of flirting, your conversations becoming dangerously close to inappropriate sometimes. but for the most part, you just talk about more wholesome stuff.

he sends you lots of selfies using weird filters to make you laugh, and there's this one time when you nearly lose your shit when you receive one in your workplace. you learn he hates coriander with a passion, and it might make you a bit cruel, but you make a mental note to hide some in his food sometime to see the face he makes, just once. he tells you that he has seven friends who are dying to meet you, including the brownie boy. you also find out that he's a graduate on computer science and he works as a computer hardware engineer. you're not entirely sure what that is about, but you know that you need big brain energy to be working in something like that. his true passion, however, is actually his favourite hobby: dancing. so this man has got the looks, the brains, as you're quickly discovering the personality too, and he is a dancer. why does he keep getting more charming by the moment?

you have multiple chances to ask yourself this question in the span of the two weeks that you spend coming to his place to watch movies. you learn that soonie had been abandoned when he adopted him, that he got doongie from a friend's cat who had given birth, and that he got dori from an abandoned cat website too, and this fact tugs at your heartstrings. he just loves his cats so much, and it's obvious that they love him too. they are a little family, and you find them to be the absolute loveliest when they're together.

you just find minho to be the absolute loveliest in general. you realise now why you thought he was an asshole at first; it's because he doesn't feel the need to make a show out of how he cares for others. he never expects anything in return for the little things he does for people, nor does he shove it in anyone's faces that he's doing something for them. in fact, he does things for others almost secretly, you learn when he confesses what actually went down with the eggs. that was the problem all along: the first few times you saw minho, you were too focused on how he talked to you, which you easily mistook for the wrong thing when you didn't pay attention to the nice things he was pairing it with.

you don't think he's nice like you did that first time you saw him through your window though. you now think he's one of the sweetest people you know. some point along this couple of weeks, much to your friends' delight, you've found yourself telling them about your growing crush on your neighbour, and you have promised to ask him to meet them sometime soon. who knows? if things go well, maybe your friends can meet his. you still want to wait to tell your parents though, you don't want them jumping right to marriage at the news that you've found someone you like, that you're getting to know him, and that he seems to like you as well.

on his end, minho finds himself more infatuated with you by the second. it's all about the little things, he thinks. it's how you bring treats for his cats too when you bring snacks for the two of you, or how they curl both around and on top of you if you fall asleep on his couch like they've already done twice. it's how he wishes he could lie down with you too when that happens, how he wishes to hold you close to him too often these days. it's the way you look out for mrs park as if she was your own grandma ever since you met her just like he does. it's the way you feel more comfortable as time passes to match his teasing. it's the way your eyes have been softening lately and your smiles have been getting bigger each time you look at him.

and so, when the friday of your awaited dinner date rolls around, both of you are buzzing with excitement. you manage to get through half of the day without excitement turning into nerves, but when the afternoon arrives, your stomach starts to churn anxiously. you know there's no reason why you should be this nervous to see minho, but you can't help it. the possible outcomes of this date scare you. what if he decides he doesn't like you like that and doesn't want to have more dates with you or even invite you over for movies anymore? and what if he does want to keep on going on dates with you? you're old enough to treat the concept of dating with maturity, but it's still so new to you that you can't help but worry about whether you are enough to be considered dating material. and copious amounts of stress only mean one thing for you.

it's cleaning time.

you don't care if you'll soon have to start getting ready, you need this.

you're butchering half of celine dion's discography this time, which means minho must be having the time of his life back at his place, and that lots of teasing surely await you when you see him later tonight. or so you think.

you go around your house dusting the rooms and scrubbing the kitchen counters, and once you get that done you decide to finish off with something relatively quick and clean the windows and the balcony doors.

you finish off the windows in no time, and you have stepped out to your balcony with only one foot when soft meowing startles you. your eyes threaten to bulge out of their sockets when you lower your gaze.

doongie stands in your balcony, looking like he doesn't have a care in the world, and he's curiously looking at the streets below, his tail slowly swishing side to side as he sticks half of his body through the metal bars. you panic at the sight. this isn't good. you know that minho's cats never leave the house unless it is for a vet appointment, so doongie being out here in the open is completely unpredictable.

and you live on a third floor.

“doongie.” you softly call. “doongie, sweetie, come here” you try. doongie is uninterested. “pspsps. here, baby. here, have a treat, hmm?” you coax, and that grabs his attention.

he steps back and meows at you again, as if ushering you to give him what you've promised. that leaves you enough room to scoop him up into your arms. you take a quick glance at minho's balcony and find the doors closed, so you go back inside your place, lock the doors to your balcony and head straight for minho's house. you waste no time in ringing his doorbell, as you've done countless times now.

minho opens up soon after, and he looks more distressed than you've ever seen him. you can guess why.

“look, y/n, this might not be the best moment.” he tells you, looking guilty to be kicking you out before you've even stepped into his place.

it's shocking enough for you to hear him use your name instead of his usual “neighbour” with you. and as much as you hated it at first, you'd give anything to hear him say it now, because that would mean that he's feeling good enough to joke around with you.

“doongie is at my place.” you say. he looks at you with eyes wide as saucers and it seems like he doesn't fully process your words, so you repeat them. “doongie is at my place.”

when the words finally register in his head, he slumps and he lowers his head, his forehead landing on your shoulder. his hands grip your waist, holding onto you for dear life.

“thank god. oh, thank god.” he mumbles, muffled against you, but you still hear the shakiness in his tone. you stroke his hair softly. his hands move from your hips and then he's hugging you in the tightest hug anyone has ever given you. “thank you, thank you, thank you.” he repeats over and over against you, and you swear you can hear sniffling.

you wait until he's calmed down a bit to tell him that he can go get doongie, which he quickly and gladly accepts. he holds his cat right as he sees him, peppering the kitty's face with kisses.

“i was worried sick.” he tells him. “my baby, i'm so sorry. you have a dummy of an owner, right?” he apologises, scratching his chin. doongie doesn't look like he cares that much about it. in your eyes, he just looks happy to see minho as usual, as meows at him and proceeds to rub his face against him, purring loudly.

you watch the two fondly, and walk them the short way from your house to minho's when he says he's going back to get things ready for later.

you didn't notice when you came to get minho, but his place looks like a tornado went through it.

“do you need help with... that?” you ask from his front door, pointing inside. although you don't know exactly what to point at, everything looks like a mess.

minho tells you that he started looking everywhere once he noticed that doongie was missing and that's why his house looks like that. he tries to politely refuse your offer, telling you that he'll have his place looking like it usually does in no time and then he'll make dinner for the two of you. nice try, but you're not having any of that

“bullshit.” you deadpan. “i'm helping you and you don't get to say no. i brought doongie back to you, so you owe me one.”

“and you're deciding that i owe you... letting you clean and tidy up a mess that you didn't make?”

“you got a problem with that?” you ask with an eyebrow raised at him. minho straightens up.

“no, ma'am.”

“thought so.”

the two of you get to work, and even with an extra pair of hands to help, it takes longer than minho had expected to get his place back to normal.

minho looks dejectedly at the kitchen counter where he had already set a few of the ingredients he was going to use and bites his lip. it's probably too late to make what he had in mind now, so he will have to settle for something quicker.

“make yourself at home, i'll get started with dinner.” he says.

you yank the back of his collar to pull him back to you.

“no, you won't.”

“what is it with you bossing me around today?” he complains, turning to face you.

“minho, you were scared shitless for doongie just a while back and i can tell you're still unsettled by the whole thing, so just sit back and rest for a little, okay?”minho doesn't look fully convinced.

“but what about dinner?” 

“it's fine, minho, don't worry about it. we can order some takeout and you'll cook for me next time.”

you see the signs of how he hasn't fully recovered from the shock just yet as he frantically looks at doongie every now and then. as if he were going to disappear any second, and for good this time. his voice hasn't lost that shakiness you noticed earlier, and his lips have been pursed in a straight line while his eyes have looked suspiciously watery. it breaks your heart to see him this shaken up.

“no, i-i promised. it was the whole point of the date, and-”

screw this, he needs to shut up.

for the first time since you've known each other, it's you who interrupts minho.

crushing your lips against his.

it takes him by surprise and he goes stiff for a moment, but you keep it short either way.

“minho,” you cup his cheeks softly and look him in the eyes. “do you really think you need to cook for me to get me to like you, or to go on more dates with you, or whatever it is that your equally hot and stupid brain is thinking right now?” he looks speechless.

“huh?” oh how the tables have turned. not long ago, you were the one stunned to silence in each of your conversations, and now it's him who can't find the words to answer you.

“i'm saying i already like you, you cute idiot. i don't care about dinner, i'm here for the time i get to spend with you.”

minho looks like he's on the verge of tears, but even as he lightly sniffles, he smiles and says:

“and here i thought you only wanted me to be your trophy husband.” you smile at him, lacing your hands together behind his neck.

“idiot.” he shrugs his shoulders, not losing the smile. you never want him to lose the smile.

“it's part of my charm.”

“it actually is.” you admit.

and this time, it's him who's diving in to kiss you. his lips move slowly against yours, soft and tender at first, and a few moments later they become firmer, more passionate. you match his pace eagerly, and you think that you could kiss this boy for a whole lifetime as a pleasant shiver runs down your spine and you feel goosebumps rising on your skin. the two of you feel breathless when you pull apart, but he still steals another peck before resting his forehead against yours with a smile. one of his hands comes up to cup your face, his thumb caressing your cheek in slow motions.

“hey, neighbour.” he whispers.

your lips stretch in the biggest, happiest smile your face is capable of, and minho doesn't need to see it. he feels it, and he knows he will do whatever it takes to have you smiling like that as often as possible.

“hi.”

after that, he finally yields to you, letting you order some takeout as you cuddle on his couch. minho is laying his head on your chest and has his eyes closed while you thread your fingers through his hair. soonie is sleeping by your feet, doongie is laying on your chest right next to minho's face and dori is curled up on top of your belly. you could get used to this.

“date me.” minho suddenly mumbles, half asleep.

“huh?”

“i said date me.” he repeats, a bit louder this time.

“i heard you. but haven't we been going on dates this whole time? i thought the movies were dates.” your voice goes somewhat quieter and you bite your lip at that last part, afraid that you might have misunderstood the situation. minho huffs and opens his eyes to look at you, but makes no effort to move from his current position.

“you can be so dense sometimes. yes, those were dates. but i mean date me. as in, be my girlfriend, neighbour.”

minho feels you tense under him, and he watches at your eyes dart from one place to another. he can hear your heart picking up its pace from where his head is placed, and he smiles at the adorable blush already creeping up your cheeks.

“sure, min-min.” you throw the nickname at him, as you do every time you want him to feel even a fraction of the bashfulness you feel.

and it works, like it does every time. minho rolls his eyes at you, but he somehow does so lovingly, and then closes them again.

“hey neighbour?” he quietly calls out to you. you hum for him to continue as your fingers keep moving slowly through his hair.

his eyes remain closed as the corners of his lips lift.

“did you order something with eggs?”

They Lost Their Drunk S/O At A Party Pt2

part one right here!

The music pulsed through the crowded house, the bass thrumming in Daichi’s chest as he wove through the sea of bodies, his jaw tight, eyes scanning the dimly lit room.

You were here somewhere—he knew that much. But where? And more importantly, in what state?

You’d wandered off earlier, caught up in the excitement of the party, laughing and clinging to your friends as drinks were passed around. He didn’t want to be the overbearing boyfriend, so he’d let you have your fun. But when thirty minutes turned into an hour and he hadn’t seen you once, concern settled deep in his gut.

Then, across the room, he spotted you.

You were definitely drunk—your body loose and relaxed, swaying to the music, a giggle slipping from your lips as you nearly tripped over your own feet. His heart clenched when he saw a guy—a little too close, a little too eager—reach for your waist.

Daichi moved before he even realized it, his grip firm but careful as he slid an arm around you, tugging you flush against his chest.

“There you are, sweetheart,” he murmured, low and warm in your ear, just loud enough for the other guy to hear. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You blinked up at him, your lips parting in surprise before breaking into a hazy, happy smile. “Dai-chan!”

His heart softened. You looked so content, oblivious to the way the guy who’d been eyeing you immediately backed off under Daichi’s heavy glare.

“I think you’ve had a little too much, baby,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“I’m having fun,” you pouted, clinging to his shirt. “You should dance with me.”

His brows knit together. “I don’t know if—”

“Pleeeeease?” You batted your lashes at him, your bottom lip jutting out in the way that always made him weak.

Daichi sighed, but a small, helpless smile tugged at his lips. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

With his hands steady on your waist, he pulled you into the rhythm of the music. You melted against him immediately, your arms winding around his shoulders as you swayed together. Daichi kept you close, his touch grounding, protective. Every time some guy even thought about looking your way, one sharp glance from him had them turning on their heel.

You, blissfully unaware, nuzzled into his chest. “You’re so warm,” you mumbled happily.

Daichi huffed a soft laugh, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And you’re wasted.”

“Maybe.” You grinned up at him. “But I’m with you, so I’m safe.”

His arms tightened around you at that, something deep in his chest unclenching.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he murmured, resting his chin on your head as he kept you steady in his hold. “You’re always safe with me.”

And for the rest of the night, he didn’t let you out of his sight.

The party was loud, the kind of chaotic mess that made it impossible to keep track of anything for too long.

Koushi Sugawara had let you wander off earlier, knowing you wanted to dance, to drink, to have fun. He wasn’t the type to hover or kill the vibe, but when he realized you’d been gone for too long—long enough that he hadn’t seen your familiar smile through the crowd—something in his gut twisted.

So he went looking.

It didn’t take long to find you. You were at the edge of the dance floor, laughing, tipsy as hell, barely standing straight as some guy leaned in a little too close, his hand hovering near your waist.

Suga’s easygoing smile didn’t falter, but something sharp lurked beneath it as he slipped into the space beside you, looping an arm around your shoulders.

“There you are, sweetheart,” he said, his tone light, but his grip firm.

You blinked up at him, your eyes glassy but full of recognition as your face broke into a wide grin. “Koooshiii!”

His heart softened. God, you were so drunk.

He pulled you against his side, looking at the guy still standing there, eyeing you. Suga’s smile never dropped, but his voice carried a warning.

“Sorry, man. She’s with me.”

The guy, clearly catching the shift in energy, put his hands up in surrender and backed off without another word. Suga didn’t even need to look intimidating—he just had that aura, that natural confidence that made people listen.

You, blissfully unaware of any tension, poked at his cheek with a giggle. “You’re so pretty.”

Suga let out a soft chuckle, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “And you are absolutely wasted.”

“Mmmh, maybe.” You swayed a little, and he easily caught you, steadying you in his arms. “But I was having fun.”

His lips quirked. “How about you have fun with me now?”

The party was in full swing, music pounding through the crowded house, bodies moving in every direction. You didn’t even remember how many drinks you’d had—only that the warmth in your veins made everything feel soft, a little hazy.

And somewhere in that haze, you’d wandered off.

Big mistake.

Because the moment Atsumu realized you were missing, he went looking. And the moment Osamu saw his brother storming through the party with a scowl, he knew something was up.

“Where’s she at?” Osamu asked, falling into step beside his twin.

“Dunno,” Atsumu gritted out. “She was right there, then poof. Gone.”

Osamu exhaled through his nose. “She’s drunk as hell, ain’t she?”

“Exactly.” Atsumu ran a hand through his hair. “I ain’t lettin’ her get lost in this crowd.”

It didn’t take long to find you.

You were laughing, swaying on unsteady feet, completely unaware of the guy standing way too close to you. He had that look—the kind that made Atsumu’s jaw clench and Osamu’s hands curl into fists.

Before the creep could even think about making a move, Atsumu was there, slinging an arm around your shoulders, pulling you right up against him.

“There ya are, sweetheart,” he crooned, voice dripping with false sweetness as his grip tightened just enough to make a point. “Thought we lost ya.”

You blinked up at him, eyes hazy but full of recognition. “Tsumu!” you beamed, leaning into him like you belonged there.

Osamu was already on your other side, slipping an arm around your waist to keep you steady. “Ya look like yer ‘bout to fall over,” he murmured, voice softer than his brother’s but just as firm. “C’mere, we gotcha.”

The guy who had been eyeing you immediately backed off, probably sensing he was wildly outnumbered.

Not that you noticed. You just giggled, blissfully unaware of the tension as you melted between them.

“Yer so drunk,” Osamu muttered, shifting his grip to support your weight.

“M’not,” you whined, burying your face against Atsumu’s chest. “Just… tipsy.”

Atsumu snickered, his fingers trailing up and down your spine in lazy circles. “Yeah? Tipsy enough to be flirtin’ with strangers?”

You huffed. “Wasn’t flirting.”

“Oh, but if ya were,” Atsumu teased, leaning in close, “wouldn’t ya rather be flirtin’ with us?”

Osamu rolled his eyes. “Cut it out, Tsumu. Let’s just get ‘er somewhere safe.”

But you were already tugging at their hands, a bright grin on your face. “Dance with me first!”

Osamu sighed. “You ain’t gonna let this go, are ya?”

“Nope.”

Atsumu laughed, easily giving in as he spun you under his arm before pulling you right back against him. “Guess we’re dancin’ then.”

Osamu just shook his head, but even he couldn’t hide his small smile as he kept one hand on your waist, his presence solid and steady.

Between the two of them, you never had to worry—not about creepy guys, not about getting too drunk, not about anything at all. Because as long as the Miya twins were by your side, you were safe.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

CAUSE I LOVE YOU ! (y. jungwon)

tumblr’s algorithm works best with reblog’s not just likes so pls reblog my work <3

pairing: boyfriend!jungwon x fem!reader

genre: established relationship n’ romance !

rating: PG

word-count: 0.5k !

warning(s): cuteness overload ! taylor swift references, all too well n’ lover ! kiss ! nothing much really !

synopsis: in which late night trips to your kitchen always lead to your boyfriend, jungwon, asking you to dance.

authors note: I don’t have much to say besides I hope guys enjoy this,, I know its very random but I was bored lol !! I definitely recommend listening to lover while reading this just to get more of the vibe going on but do you !! <//3 happy reading guys !! enjoy ! >.< 🤍

The rain hit against the glass of the window, and the kitchen filled with the noises of the weather outside. Small puffs of air escaped your lips as you buried your head further into your boyfriend, jungwon’s chest. Your nose was met by the aroma of honey with a tinge of cinnamon, and as you lingered in his arms, the warmth of his skin allowed the scent you loved so dearly to pervade the air. His delicate but loving hold on your waist held your clingy form against his as you both swayed to his tunes.

Slight vibrations could be felt against your cheek coming from his chest. His humming and vocals filled your ears as you closed your eyes, the subtle melodies of Taylor Swift’s lover abruptly entering the sweet atmosphere. The dim light of the open refrigerator to the right of the kitchen allowed you to turn your face away from the warmth of the other and catch a glimpse of a few of his features that had been concealed by the night's deep shadows.

His eyes were closed, and a few strands of his hair hung messily around his forehead as his plump, pearly-pink lips parted as he sang. His eyelashes were as long as ever, and the light delightfully bounced off of them. His slender nose had the slightest bump at the top of the nasal bridge, and the shadows that roamed around the room shaded the structure of his jawline perfectly. It was times like this where you fell in love with him all over again. 

“You okay?” The melodies that were once heard are long gone and have since been replaced by the dulcet tones of jungwon's voice. As he drew your frame closer to his, he spoke with words that were dripping with care and concern.

Nodding, you let out a small sigh. As the warmth of his breath hit against your skin, your heart began to beat faster by the second, and the feeling soon replaced itself with the sweet sensation of a peck against your cheek. 

Letting out a small giggle, you looked up at jungwon, his eyes meeting yours almost immediately. His hands moving from your waist now to your cheeks as he held your face in his hands, admiring your features. He stared at you with his eyes gleaming with such love and astonishment before bending down and pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was sweet and tender, the pace slow and genuine, as it always was. The slight flavor of his cherry lip balm, which he had applied just an hour earlier, was long gone. His lips, which were now formerly covered in vanilla ice cream and entwined with yours.

Pulling away from the kiss, jungwon stayed admiring the moment you two just shared; his eyes remained closed as a small smile placed itself amongst his lips. As he slowly opened his eyes to reveal you, the pad of his thumb made gentle, loving strokes against your cheek. 

“What was that for?” you asked, smiling at your boyfriend who you loved so dearly. 

“cause I love you.”

copyrighted by enaus, do not copy, reposted, translate or plagiarize my work !!

— reminder: i love you

wc: 318, pairing: jungwon x gn!reader, genre: fluff, warnings: none

PROMPT: 3 from list 2: “random ‘i love you’s just in case they forgot”

AN — hii!! first request for this event!! tysm requesting:) i hope you enjoy <33

1k event requesting masterlist

cuddling with jungwon was an intimate time during the day. and with the 6 other boys living in the dorm with jungwon, it was hard to have his privacy with jus you around him.

you loved visiting jungwon at his house, solely to see his domestic life. the way he interacted with the boys was truly like they were brothers.

today was another one of those days where you two got no privacy. the boys have been annoying you two the whole day, but that didnt stop jungwon from trying to take you away the whole time.

another thing, is that jungwon has been saying the whole day was ‘i love you’. everytime he saw you, hugged you, kissed you. even when you walked out of the bathroom. he seemed more clingyer than usual too.

now that you two were alone in his room and cuddling, you decided to confront him about it. “wonie?” you called as you looked up from his chest. “mhm” he hummed with his eyes still closed. “why are you saying i love you all the time to me. its been going on the whole day” you asked looking at his peaceful face.

jungwon smiled and peaked from his on eye, slightly opening it as he bit his lip to prevent the small laugh that wanted to fall out. “im jus making sure you know that i love you baby” he said as he pulled you closer to his embrace.

“but i do know you love me, even if you dont say it” you said as you layed your head back on his chest. “i know baby” he replied. “jus a reminder for you that im always here” he continued and placed a soft kiss on your head. you smiled before cuddling closer to the boy you loved.

now, jungwon could sleep peacefully without the doubt that you didnt know he loved you, (and without the other 6 annoying boys in the dorm!)

you and me, religiously ; miya atsumu x f!reader

˚₊ ⸝⸝ ⟶ summary: you were never good at saying how you felt—and neither was atsumu. but the love was always there, quiet and aching, in the way you almost reached for each other but never quite did.

˚₊ ⸝⸝ ⟶ tags: bestfriend!atsumu, childhood friends-to-lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, soft angst

˚₊ ⸝⸝ ⟶ word count: 4k+

˚₊ ⸝⸝ ⟶ notes: just me writing about my fave boy and my fave trope again.

──────── · · · ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* · · · ────────

“you think coach’ll still let me start if i show up late?” suna asked you, monotone, eyes fixed ahead.

you snorted. “not if he finds out you stopped for vending machine snacks again.”

he gave a noncommittal shrug, tapping the volleyball against his hip. “cut me some slack. i just turned eighteen. feels like i should get a pass or something.”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, happy birthday, grandpa. we're all eighteen this year. it's not that deep.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, gaze still on the hallway ahead. “last year of high school, and we’re still running late to practice.”

you grinned teasingly, “just you, sunarin.”

the gym wasn’t far now, the sound of drills and shouting teammates already bleeding into the hallway. then, without looking at you, he said it—casually, like it was just another update from class.

"atsumu’s transferring back here.”

you stopped walking mid-step, shoes skidding slightly against the hallway floor. “what?” you asked, turning your head so quickly toward suna it made your hair shift over your shoulder.

but he didn’t repeat it right away. just kept casually spinning the volleyball in his hands like he hadn’t just dropped the most shocking news you’d heard in years.

“no—wait,” you said again, voice a little breathless now. “are you serious?”

you searched his face for any sign that he was joking. a smirk. a twitch in his eye. something. but there was nothing—just suna, as unreadable as ever, giving a lazy shrug like it wasn’t the one name you never thought you’d hear again.

your heart was pounding. loud, quick, all-consuming.

atsumu was a memory you’d tucked away so deeply you thought it couldn’t reach you anymore. a name that still made something shift in your chest. and now—he was coming back?

he tossed the volleyball up once, caught it again. “yeah. thought it was already going around. he's starting next week.”

it had been years since you last saw him—back when you were both barely fifteen in the middle of junior high. he said goodbye outside your house, late in the evening. the streets were quiet, just the faint humming of the air. you still remembered the way he stood there under the dim porch light, his bag slung over one shoulder, eyes avoiding yours.

atsumu's voice had barely held steady when he said it, like each word scraped its way out of his throat. his fingers curled tightly into the hem of his hoodie, knuckles pale, like he was holding himself together with the smallest thread.

his eyes never really met yours—not for long. they kept flicking to the side, then back again, like he couldn’t decide whether looking at you made it harder to leave or easier to pretend he could.

the streetlight outside your house flickered gently overhead, casting his face in dim amber. he looked older in that moment. not because of time, but because of everything he wasn’t saying.

his heart was thudding too loud in his chest. he wanted to tell you it wasn’t his choice. that he hated the idea of leaving. that every time he packed a bag or thought about his flight, it felt like he was leaving a piece of himself behind.

“i didn’t wanna leave,” he said quietly, almost like it was a secret. “it was just… my mom’s job. she had to move to tokyo, so I had to go too.”

and then he smiled—tight, fleeting. not bright or cocky like usual, but small, like he was afraid that if he smiled any wider, it’d shatter.

“i’ll see ya, ‘kay?” he said, voice barely steady. “promise I won’t forget, y/n. not ever.”

he hesitated for just a second before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you—tight, like he didn’t want to let go. his chin brushed your shoulder, and you could feel the way he held his breath.

“i'll text you. or, like… send pictures or somethin’. i dunno.” he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes earnest. “i'll keep in touch. i mean it.”

and then he let go—too soon—and took a step back, like staying any longer would make it even harder to leave.

he was gone. and at first, he tried—texts here and there, blurry pictures from tokyo, the occasional call late at night when he couldn’t sleep. you clung to those moments, tucked them away like little keepsakes.

but the messages grew farther apart. the calls stopped. life got louder. you were both just kids, and maybe that’s what growing up does—it pulls people in different directions before they even realize it.

until one day, there was nothing. no calls. no letters. just silence. and with time, you started to believe that maybe he was never coming back.

and then, like a breath you didn’t know you were holding—he was there. a week later, just like suna had said, as if he’d never really left.

it was early. the quiet hum of spring had just begun to slip in through the open windows, the scent of cherry blossoms faint in the breeze. your shoes tapped softly against the floor as you stepped inside, half-lost in thought. you enter the room without hesitation, making your way to your usual seat by the window.

as you settle in, you notice that suna isn’t in his seat beside yours. irritated, you grab your phone and quickly type—where the hell are you? i thought we were supposed to come early, then sit back, waiting for his reply.

the room is quiet until a gentle laugh cuts through the silence.

it was the laugh you’d known since you were little, in sun-warmed days playing tag in the park, scraped knees and shared popsicles, pinky promises made on random lazy summer afternoons. the same one that used to pull you by the wrist across the playground, that whispered you’re my favorite in a boy’s clumsy way—through laughter, and shared snacks, and sheltering you from the rain with a too-small umbrella.

you look up, startled, and there he is, already watching you from across the room.

miya atsumu

he looked the same. and he didn’t. he was taller now, with broader shoulders. his blonde hair still framed his face, and his uniform was worn in that casual, half-cared-for way. but it was his eyes that drew you in—something heavier, something older. they held a quiet intensity.

but the way he looked at you—gentle, surprised, as if he was seeing you for the first time—made his breath hitch for a moment. his eyes, focused and soft, took in every detail of how different you looked now. he noticed the way your hair now fell in waves, catching the light just so, and how your eyes looked like it could light up the entire world.

in that split second, atsumu thought none of the girls in tokyo, none of them, could come close, his lips parted, just slightly. he looked like he might say something.

“....y/n?” he called softly, uncertainty tinting his voice as if he weren’t sure the years had changed you both.

he took a step toward you. then another. and you thought you’d forgotten the sound of his voice, but now that it filled the room—low, a little raspier, softer than it used to be—you knew you hadn’t.

not really.

“'tsumu?” you said, your voice soft—like it might disappear if you spoke any louder.

“god,” he said, “you’re really here.”

the silence between you stretched, but not awkwardly. he looked at you like he was still piecing you back together from memory, and you looked at him like you were afraid to blink in case he disappeared again.

“you’ve…changed,” you murmured, eyes tracing the slope of his jaw, the line of his mouth.

he shrugged, then rubbed the back of his neck—boyish, sheepish, but his eyes never left yours. “you haven’t. not really.”

you smiled, and it hit him all at once—how much he missed that smile, how many nights he’d spent regretting the space that had grown between you. guilt settled quiet in his chest, and he wondered if you were angry with him. if he even had the right to miss you this much. and for a brief second, he found himself thinking if the two of you could ever find your way back to how it used to be—before the distance, before he left.

but whatever he was about to say got lost the moment another voice chimed in behind you.

“there you are!” osamu popped in first, eyes lighting up the second he saw you. “holy shit, i knew it! it was you!” he grinned, barely giving you time to react before he threw an arm around your shoulders, hugging you tight like you were still in junior high. “you haven’t changed one bit,” he laughed, pulling back just enough to look at you.

“speak for yourself,” you teased, smiling up at him.

then came suna, hands in his pockets. “you look the same, but less angry,” he said casually, lips twitching in the closest thing to a smile.

you gave him a look. “this why you ignored my text?”

he shrugged, sliding into the seat beside you. “figured you’d find me eventually.”

“yeah? next time we make a plan, i’m ditching you first,” you muttered, nudging him lightly with your foot under the desk.

osamu chuckled as he leaned against your desk. “some things never change.”

“like you being late?” you shot back.

“hey, at least i brought onigiris this time.”

atsumu hadn’t said a word, but somewhere in between the teasing, he’d moved closer. now, he stood just beside you—quiet, lingering—like something in him had been pulled there before he could think twice. it had been years, but standing next to you again made it feel like no time had passed at all. like if he reached out just a little, you might lean into him the way you used to.

he didn’t, though. instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets, let his arms barely brush your shoulder, and said, “jeez, you’re still short. thought you would’ve grown a little by now.”

he let out a soft chuckle, eyes flicking down to you. you could tell he was trying—softening the edges, reaching out in his own awkward way—and so you tried too.

you glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. “you’re just freakishly tall 'tsumu,” you said. “it’s not my fault you hit a second growth spurt or whatever.” the words came easier than you thought they would. like muscle memory. like maybe this didn’t have to be as hard as you feared.

atsumu's shoulders eased, just a bit. he thought maybe you weren’t mad after all. maybe this could still be okay. and when you let out a small laugh—barely more than a breath, but real—and flashed him that same smile he used to see after long practices and stupid jokes, it hit him, soft and sudden—this was home. it always had been. wherever you were.

then, in between moments, the bell rang sharp, but not enough to break the feeling entirely. footsteps echoed into the room as more students trickled in, voices rising, chairs scraping against the floor. the teacher entered not long after, calling for everyone to return to their seats.

atsumu lingered for a second longer, then nudged your head gently with his elbow. “see ya later,” he said, tone light, almost too casual.

osamu gave suna a small nod. “don’t fall asleep in the first ten minutes.”

they both turned—and while osamu crossed the room, atsumu circled behind you.

you didn’t turn to look, but you felt it anyway—the way the air shifted as he sat in his chair just behind yours, of course he did. that was always his seat. still is. and somehow, that small familiarity felt louder now than it used to.

you pressed your pen to the page a little harder than necessary. he was right there. this was going to be distracting. you weren’t even sure why it got to you—just that it did. that he was close enough for you to hear the way he exhaled, the soft scrape of his chair against the floor. that if you leaned back even slightly, you might hear him humming under his breath like he used to.

time blurred after that. one class bled into the next—notes scribbled half-heartedly, lessons that barely registered. your pen hovered over your notebook, unmoving, eyes flicking toward the window, and then back—because you could feel it. that quiet, burning stare.

he was seated just behind you. too close. or maybe not close enough. his presence folded into the edge of your awareness like static, never fully gone. always there.

atsumu stretched once, and the motion behind you was slow, languid. a little exaggerated, a little too casual. you felt the back of his shoe nudge the leg of your chair when he settled again, not hard, just enough to make you glance over your shoulder. you didn’t. but he knew you felt it.

the teacher’s voice faded in and out, words smearing into the background. when he answered a question, his voice came from just behind your ear—low, raspy, but quite soft, like sleep hadn’t left it yet. you didn’t mean to notice it. didn’t want to. but it slipped in anyway, warm and steady. it didn’t matter what he said. it was the sound of it. the way it got to you.

you kept your eyes on the board, but the paper beneath your hand stayed mostly blank. a few scattered notes. a sketch in the margin you didn’t remember starting. you were half-listening, half-drifting, when you felt him lean forward.

“what was the thing the teacher said earlier? somethin’ about that definition?”

you blinked down at your notes. “which one?”

“dunno. you wrote it down, right?”

You hesitated, glancing toward the half-finished sentence on your page. the question wasn’t real—not really. he wasn’t looking for an answer. he was looking for a reason.

“you could just listen for once."

you dipped your head slightly, lips tugging into a smile before you could stop it.

“yeah, but then i wouldn’t get to bother ya.”

he let out a faint sound, something like a breath of amusement, like he was smiling into his hand. you didn’t look back, but you could feel it—his grin, lazy and crooked and far too pleased with himself.

you didn’t turn, just kept your eyes on your notebook. “you gonna keep staring while you do it?”

there was a soft shift behind you—the creak of his chair, the faint rustle of fabric as he leaned forward just enough for his presence to press closer.

“can't help it,” he murmured, and you swore you could feel the curve of a smile in his voice—quiet, a little tired, like it slipped out without thinking.

you told yourself not to read into it. it was just a line. just him being him. still, your grip on your pen tightened, and you had to blink down at your page like it could ground you. first day back and he was already getting to you.

then the final bell dragged itself through the halls like a tired breath. you packed your things slowly, letting the weight of the afternoon settle into your shoulders.

beside you, suna stretched in his seat, back cracking faintly as he let out a quiet sigh. the scrape of a chair. the rustle of bags.

osamu wandered over, dropping his bag beside suna’s desk with a thud. “coach’s gonna go hard today, huh.”

suna snorted. “yeah, well, it’s your fault for skipping practice for three years.”

“not my fault we had that whole tokyo thing,” osamu muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“you and atsumu both,” suna said. “hope you like serving drills. you’re gonna be doing them for the rest of the week.”

atsumu leaned back in his chair behind you, legs stretched out, arms crossed over his chest like he had something to prove. “try me, i’ll still ace every serve,” he said, all confidence, even if it wavered just a little.

osamu gave him a look. “you were complaining about it all lunch.”

“yeah, well. not in front of suna.”

suna rolled his eyes, and you kept your head down, slipping your notebooks into your bag. quiet, careful, like you weren’t listening—but you were.

you were halfway through packing your things, slipping your notebook into your bag while the boys were still talking—half banter, half complaint. suna said something under his breath that made osamu scoff, and atsumu laughed a little too loud, the sound stretching into the space behind you.

you didn’t look back, but you could feel him glance your way. once. then again. like he was waiting for something—or maybe just working up to it.

“you comin’ to watch practice?”

you blinked, unsure if he was talking to you. your hands hovered over your bag, halfway zipped. the question hung there for a moment, light but deliberate. you glanced over your shoulder.

he was looking at you now—eyes steady, a little too focused for something that was supposed to be casual. and so were suna and osamu—conversations fading, the room dipping into a pause. all three of them watching, like the question needed an answer.

you didn’t say anything at first. just nodded to yourself a little, like you were still thinking about it.

“…dunno,” you said eventually, softer than you meant to.

“she never misses,” suna said, deadpan, already slinging his bag over his shoulder.

you shook your head, smile tugging at your lips. “do you memorize everyone’s schedule or just mine?”

suna didn’t miss a beat. “just yours,” he said flatly, nudging your desk lightly with his foot as he stood. “gotta keep an eye on our number one fan.”

osamu snorted as he got to his feet, and atsumu was rubbing the back of his neck, trying (and failing) to hide a grin.

atsumu huffed. “we’re headin’ now. you should come.”

you hesitated. “i gotta drop something off with the teacher.”

he gave a small nod, like he didn’t want to make a thing of it. “alright. see ya there, then.”

they left together, voices fading into the hallway.

once they were gone, the room felt quieter somehow. still full of leftover noise—chairs askew, papers rustling—but without them, it settled into something gentler. something easier to breathe in.

you took your time packing the last of your things, then made your way to the front to drop off a paper with the teacher. your footsteps were unhurried, almost quiet. no real reason to rush.

instead of heading straight to the gym, you circled around the courtyard, taking the long way on purpose. the breeze brushed your face, the late afternoon sun soft against your skin. it wasn’t about avoiding them, not exactly—it was just… everything had felt a little too much all at once.

you lingered at the hallway corner, just outside the gym doors, fingers curled loosely around the strap of your bag. there were voices inside already—shoes squeaking on the polished floor, a whistle cutting through the air.

and then you stepped in.

the sharp thud of volleyballs hitting the court greets you first, followed by the low calls of names, the rhythm of feet against wood. they’re already warming up—spikes on one side, serves on the other. your eyes instinctively search for suna, and you find him crouched near the net, focused and loose-limbed, his movements precise.

but it’s the opposite end of the court that holds you still.

atsumu stands at the service line, a ball in hand, his body already in motion. you catch the fluid arc of his arm, the way his form slices through the air with such practiced grace that it almost looks like muscle memory brought to life.

then the ball sails.

it spins—fast, controlled, almost cruel in the way it dips just before the line. a perfect serve.

you don’t realize you’ve stopped walking until he’s already lining up another.

he looks up. his gaze catches yours.

and it’s… steady. not surprised, not sharp like before, but something softer—open, maybe. the edges of him aren’t as guarded now. he holds your gaze even as he tosses the next ball, his eyes never wavering until the last second, when instinct takes over and he strikes.

this one lands just inside the corner, making even osamu whistle low from the sidelines.

you shift your weight, unsure of what to do with the heat blooming behind your chest.

suna glances over and gives you a slight nod, as if to say you saw that too, huh? you manage a small smile, one that falters when you look back at atsumu—who’s still watching you, even as osamu tosses him another ball.

there’s something unreadable in his expression. not arrogance, not pride. just a quiet hope.

you sit where you usually do, just beside the gym wall. a little removed, a little safe. suna jogs over on a water break and tosses you a bottle he probably stole from someone’s bag.

“you made it,” he says, voice low and dry.

you nod. “long practice?”

“coach is squeezing blood out of us before prelims.” he leans against the wall, brushing sweat from his temple. “he’s serious about nationals this year.”

you hum in response, eyes drifting back toward the court.

atsumu’s still at the service line, though this time, it’s osamu who steps beside him, saying something only the two of them can hear. atsumu’s mouth pulls into a crooked grin before he sends another serve flying.

when it hits the court, it echoes.

a few minutes pass, filled with the steady rhythm of shoes squeaking and balls thudding against the court. The gym hums with effort, voices rising and falling as drills wind down. when the whistle blows for a break, the players scatter—some toward their water bottles, others to the benches lined along the wall.

atsumu makes his way toward you, towel slung around his neck, sweat glinting at his temples. you don’t look up right away, too focused on the notebook in your lap, the corners curled from how tightly you’ve been holding it. it's only when his shadow stretches over the page that you glance up.

“oh,” you say, blinking. “didn't realize your stuff was here.”

he doesn’t answer right away, just drops down beside you with a soft exhale, the kind that comes after a training that steals breath but feels good in the chest.

you give him a sidelong look, then smile a little.

“you're serving really well today, 'tsumu.”

he pauses, mid-reach for his water bottle, and for a second, something flickers behind his eyes. he masks it quickly—tilting his head, smirking like it’s nothing—but inside, the words ring louder than the ball had when it smacked the court earlier.

“yeah?” he says, casual, wiping his neck with the towel.

you hum in agreement, eyes already drifting back to the court, unaware of how the praise has settled in him.

he chuckles, quiet but real, gaze still lingering on you.

“guess it’s ‘cause you’re watchin’.”

the words come softer than his usual teasing—lighter, but not a joke. and for once, he doesn’t try to cover it up.

you glance at him, but he’s already looking away, pretending to be more focused on the court than he is. but you can see it—the way his mouth almost twitches into a smile, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

there’s a beat of quiet, stretched just long enough to feel like it matters.

“that place we used to go to after practice,” he says, voice casual, like it’s nothing. “it still around?”

you nod slowly, zipping up your jacket halfway. “yeah. still there.”

he reaches for his water bottle, then turns back to you with a look that doesn’t quite match the lightness in his tone—something steadier, warmer, a little more certain than before.

“wanna go after this?”

you pause, caught off guard in that quiet, fluttering kind of way. it’s not a big moment. he’s not making it one. and maybe that’s what makes it feel like one anyway.

you smile—soft, barely there, but genuine. “yeah. sure.”

he doesn’t say anything else, just nods once and turns back toward the court. but the expression on his face lingers like an echo, tucked between something fond and something hopeful.

and for a second, it sits with you—settles in, quiet and familiar, like something you almost forgot the shape of. not just the question, but everything behind it. the ease of old routines. the echo of afternoons spent in the same spots, sharing food and stories and laughter that spilled too easily.

you don’t breathe too hard around it, afraid it might break the spell. because it’s been years, and still, somehow, it feels the same. and maybe, just maybe, it always will.

──────── · · · ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* · · · ────────

© lovemetsumu

this was DIVINE. oml this was so good, it deserves an epilogue 😞🙏

The Pantheon: A Series

an enhypen gods au x reader [afab] collection

Six gods, all carrying the world upon their shoulders, powers unimaginable to mere mortals. And yet they fall, one by one, in love with nothing more than the most devout, the most holy, the most pure hearted of all their followers. One by one these gods fall, unable to stop themselves, drawn to the mortals that call out to them, that beckon them to their sides. And one by one, these gods wait, knowing that every exchange, every mortal brought to the heavens, it tips the balance. How long can they wait before their hands are forced to make a choice to balance the scales once more?

warning: god au, religious imagery, religious themes, greek mythology inspired; explicit sexual content (ot6 only), god fucking, vaginal sex, *unprotected sex (please be sure to read every part for a more complete list of warnings!)

PART 1: Justice & Mercy [jay park x virgin!reader] PART 2: Merriment & the Arts [jake sim x artist!reader] PART 3: Disaster & Safe Passage [park sunghoon x traveler!reader] PART 4: Healing & Benevolence [kim sunoo x reader] PART 5: Protection & the Hunt [nishimura riki x hunter!reader] PART 6: Seas & Storms [yang jungwon x reader] PART 7: Tragedy & Balance [lee heeseung x muse!reader]

"You'll become a Goddess yet..."

taglist: CLOSED

-> @baekxo07 @pinksweetlittlepiano @hooniebaekgu @starfallia @heelovesmeknot @lovgfrd @xiaoderrrr @jakayval @jaeyunluvr @jungwonloveer @j5yy @seunghancore @binniesbabe @strxwbloody @vveebee @cherlv @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @yongbokified @immelissaaa @fertilizedtoesw @sumzysworld @emberuby @sunshine-skz @nicleyrou @rikibun @lilactangerine @iveivory @yoonzns @addictedtohobi @wonnie99 @enha-stars

bye I was so confused I thought it was about y/n posting the pics not the other way around 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"PICTURES I POSTED ON MY IG STORY JUST FOR MY CRUSH TO SEE" TREND W/ JAKE

pairing! non-idol!jake x gn!reader

genre! fluff, college au, social media au

warning! nothing, just teeth rotting fluff

notes! found this trend to be fricking adorable so I wanted to do it with jake cuz I feel like he'd do this type of thing lmao, enjoyyy

@ boigyu 2024. don't plagiarize, steal or translate my work

can I also avail a rule of this from him as a night care packagae pls 😞🙏

kiss, kiss, kiss. — kim sunoo 김선우

masterlist ; warnings none genre fluff

getting ready to bed with your boyfriend, sunoo.

“whoa, today was quite a day,” sunoo brushed his hair back with his hand. moving away his bangs as he put a headband on. he glanced at you in the mirror, a smile quietly forming on his lips as he watched you wearing your own headband, “how was your day?”

“i'm beat,” you put just the right amount of toothpaste on your brush. your eyes caught sunoo's in the mirror, “it was fun, a little absurd, but fun.”

his smile grew bigger as he watched you brush your teeth, “oh, really? tell me about it!” sunoo picked up his own toothbrush and started brushing his own.

you took your time to brush your teeth while sunoo patiently waiting for your answer with a smile on his face, “i accidentally met my old friends on the way home,” you said after you spit out your toothpaste. you wiped your mouth and excitedly continued, “apparently one of them moved not so far from here, and they asked me to come to have a housewarming party with them. i'm not even that close with them, it was really awkward and a soul-sucking moment. gosh, it was totally t—”

out of the blue, sunoo abruptly kissed your cheek. leaving a tiny toothpaste foam on it. he was smiling from ear to ear.

you gasped, “WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!” you touched your cheek, jokingly annoyed by the kiss. though, it's actually woke up a lot of butterflies in your stomach.

sunoo laughed thrilled at your reaction. he washed his mouth and his toothbrush before putting it on the glass next to yours, “oh my god, you're so cute.”

“excuse me?” you asked as if you were offended by his words but you couldn't hide the redness on your cheeks and ears.

sunoo obviously noticed your flustered face. he was grinning as his soft hands went to cup your face, “i said you're cute,” he giggled before giving a peck on your lips, you could smell the mint from toothpaste he used before, “and you're so pretty,” he left another peck on your lips, “and i love you soooo much,” sunoo put his lips on yours once again. but this time it lasts a little bit longer.

you didn't know how to react, so you just stood there totally giving in to his touch as he pampered you with kisses. maybe it's by the rule for sunoo to kiss you at least three times before going to bed.