MISSION: MIDNIGHT SNACK. Eunchae x reader
synopsis— Eunchae wakes up at 3AM with one goal: tteokbokki. You, being the tired but hopelessly in love girlfriend you are, somehow get roped into her midnight snack mission. From sneaking around the dorm like spies, to raiding the convenience store for strawberry milk and ice cream
Warnings .ᐟ established relationship (but barely mentioned), written in 2nd person POV, hii yes I’m back 😭, deactivated that account (which I very much regret) due to lack of motivation and school, but i created another account I most likely won’t be deactivating but taking breaks, I forgot how the format of my masterlist used to be if you remember (which I don’t think anyone would) please lmkkkkkkk 🙏😔, created a side blog @ynversee for some oneshot smau!!!, anyways enough yapping enjoy this short fic 😘, just pure FLUFF
You blink through the darkness, registering the arm that slaps across your stomach a second later.
“Y/n,” Eunchae whispers like it’s a matter of life and death. “I need tteokbokki. Right now.”
You turn your head slightly on the pillow, eyes adjusting to the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains. “It’s... three in the morning.”
“I know,” she huffs. “But I really want it. I was dreaming about it, and then I woke up and now I can’t sleep because I’m starving.”
“You literally had two servings of dinner.”
“That was six hours ago!” she insists, like the math is supposed to justify this.
You stare at her. She's pouting.
“Fine,” you whisper, already regretting your life choices as you peel the covers off.
“Wait! really?” she lights up immediately, eyes sparkling even in the dim light. “You’re the best. Oh my God, I love you.”
You’re too sleepy to respond properly, so you just grunt and reach for your hoodie. Eunchae is already hopping off the bed, grabbing your jacket, mumbling something about "snack destiny" as she tugs it over her pajamas.
Five minutes later, you’re both creeping down the hallway like fugitives. The dorm is quiet, save for the soft hum of the fridge and Sakura snoring faintly behind her door. Eunchae keeps tiptoeing like she’s in a spy movie, crouched low and glancing around every corner like someone’s going to leap out and arrest her.
“You do know we’re allowed to eat snacks, right?” you whisper as she ducks behind the living room couch.
“Shhh,” she hisses. “Don’t ruin the fun.”
You roll your eyes but grin anyway. Her hair is a mess and her socks don’t match. She's carrying her phone like a flashlight, the beam wobbling with every step. There’s something ridiculously cute about the way she takes this mission so seriously.
The kitchen doesn’t have tteokbokki, tragedy. But you do find instant ramyeon and leftover fish cakes in the fridge. Eunchae gasps like she’s discovered gold.
“Quick,” she whispers. “Boil the water. I’ll guard the door.”
You snort, grabbing the pot and turning on the stove. “You mean you’ll stand there pretending to be a ninja?”
“Exactly,” she whispers, striking a pose with a wooden spoon like it’s a weapon.
You try not to laugh. You fail. The moment you giggle, she shushes you again with wide eyes, as if a single sound might wake the whole building.
It doesn’t stop you from giggling harder when she crouches into a dramatic squat and wobbles in place, struggling not to fall over.
By the time the ramyeon’s done, she’s abandoned the ninja act entirely and is sitting on the counter, feet swinging and eyes glued to the pot like it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
You pass her a bowl, and she lights up again.
“You’re a lifesaver,” she says between slurps. “No, actually, you’re better than a lifesaver. You’re like... the ultimate midnight snack partner. You’re my ride-or-die.”
You arch a brow. “Because I make you noodles?”
“Yes,” she says with her mouth full. “And because you look really cute in my hoodie.”
You glance down, oh. It’s hers. The one with the little bear on the sleeve. You hadn’t even noticed.
She grins like she knows exactly what she’s doing.
“You’re annoying,” you mutter, face warm.
“But you love me,” she singsongs, leaning her head against your shoulder.
You do. Of course you do. Even when she wakes you up at 3 a.m. for fish cakes and ramyeon. Even when she tries to fight the air in front of the fridge for “training.” Even when she says the most ridiculous things with the most serious face.
Ten minutes later, you both finish eating, satisfied and warm. But Eunchae’s not done. Not even close.
“Okay,” she says, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Phase two.”
You stare at her. “There’s a phase two?”
“Yes,” she nods solemnly. “Convenience store.”
Your eyes narrow. “We just ate.”
“But I need something sweet,” she says, standing up like a soldier ready for deployment. “Strawberry milk. Ice cream. You know. The essentials.”
The big, round, sparkly ones.
The convenience store is two blocks from the dorm, and the air outside is cool and still. The streets are empty except for the occasional delivery truck in the distance. Eunchae walks beside you, hands buried in the pocket of your hoodie now, one foot occasionally bumping into yours.
She’s quiet for a while. For once.
You glance at her. “What’s going on in that dramatic little head of yours?”
She smiles softly, not looking at you. “I like this.”
You blink. “What, sneaking out at ungodly hours to buy snacks?”
“No,” she laughs. “Well, yes. But also... just being with you like this. When it’s quiet.”
You don’t say anything at first. Your fingers brush hers in the pocket. She doesn’t pull away.
You squeeze her hand once.
The store is bright and humming when you walk in. Eunchae makes a beeline for the fridge section, grabbing two strawberry milks like she’s on a timed game show. Then she starts scanning the ice cream fridge like she’s solving a puzzle.
“This one?” she holds up a melon bar.
You shake your head. “Too cold.”
She grabs a fish-shaped pastry ice cream. “Too boring.”
You squint. “Excuse you?”
She just grins and tosses it in the basket anyway. Then she adds some chocolate snacks, a random jelly pack, and a bag of shrimp chips “for later.”
By the time you reach the counter, you’re both laughing again quietly, but not really. Eunchae almost drops her milk when she sees a cat sticker on the cashier’s register and demands to know where it came from.
Back outside, she tears into the snacks immediately, handing you half of everything without asking. You sit on a nearby bench, cold but happy, sipping strawberry milk and eating ice cream like kids who snuck out of summer camp.
“You know,” you say eventually, “we’re gonna crash so hard in the morning.”
“Worth it,” she says, licking her spoon. “Totally worth it.”
You glance at her. Hair a mess. Hoodie sleeves too long. Strawberry milk carton in one hand, the other still holding yours in the hoodie pocket.
She leans her head against your shoulder again. You let her.
And for a moment, the world is quiet. No stages, no cameras, no schedules. Just you and her. Two idiots in love at 3:42 a.m., sharing snacks under a flickering streetlight.
It’s the best part of your day.
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