A Night Like This
Oneshot! (Request)
Pairing: Eugene Choi x Fem!Reader (y/n)
Summary: On a stormy night, Eugene comes home when he isn’t supposed to — soaked, safe, and standing at her door. What follows is a quiet evening of warmth, reassurance, and soft love as the rain falls outside and the world finally slows down.
Warnings: Rainy-night intimacy (non-explicit) Soft kisses & cuddling. Emotional vulnerability.
Author's Note: Based on THIS request. I love writing fluff fics about my baby eugene 🥹
Word Count: 667
Tag list: Lemme know if you want to get tagged.
@salesmancarddd @marymun @astronomicalastro-blog1 @filthygalli @thehellhaveubeenloca @yosoylaprincesa2004 @watasinekoru @nightlark100 @drewstarkeysrightarm @doodle-with-rhy @lunaryoongie @ilovebyunghunlee @yxluana @sammie217 @sammat97 @alex-17s-world @mObi4girls @maah-sama @grylian @hecticspice @manager016 @mxriesss @christmascoles @nosebeers @carolinevoight @princesscherryblossom15 @frozen-waffle @eviesmoon @startled-cats @retiredpieceofshits @ft-winnow @weakh3rokdrama @bluechaoslizzy @frontwomann @cutecat2005 @starlightlunax @alex110370000 @wanna-plan-world-domination @akiyhara @natalie3657 @hornylittlesimp @lazybum0 @reneejkn @solarpotato @masked-protocol @lindsay00000 @v13fsg
Rain had been falling since morning.
Y/n sat by the window long after the sky had darkened, watching the streets blur into silver streaks beneath the storm.
The house felt too quiet tonight — emptier than usual — despite the warmth of the lantern light and the cup of tea growing cold in her hands.
Eugene was supposed to come home today.
He had told her earlier that he wouldn’t.
“The rain is heavy. The roads aren’t safe. I’ll return tomorrow” he’d said, voice calm and steady even through the line.
You understood. Of course you did.
But understanding didn’t stop the ache.
A soft knock broke the silence.
Y/n froze.
Another knock followed — firmer this time.
Her heart leapt before her mind could catch up. She stood too quickly, tea forgotten, and crossed the room with cautious steps. When she opened the door, rain rushed in first — cold air, wet earth — and then—
Eugene.
Soaked, coat darkened with rain, hair damp and clinging slightly to his forehead. He stood there like he always did, solid and real, eyes searching her face.
For a second, she just stared.
Then her breath hitched.
“You—” Her voice broke. “You said you weren’t coming.”
He opened his mouth, just barely.
She hit his chest.
Not hard — just enough to let the emotions spill over. “You lied to me,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
His hands came up instantly, catching her wrists gently.
“I’m sorry” he said quietly. “I wanted to surprise you.”
She shook her head, laughing breathlessly through tears as she stepped into him, arms wrapping around his waist.
He exhaled — like he’d been holding his breath all day — and pulled her close, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other firm against her back.
“I’m home.” he murmured into your hair.
That was all it took.
---
Later, with his coat hung to dry and the storm still whispering against the windows, she sat beside him beneath a shared blanket. The house felt whole again — warmer, softer.
Rain had a way of slowing the world.
Eugene’s sleeve was rolled up, his hand warm where it rested against her's
This was the version of him few ever saw — not Captain Choi, not the man shaped by war, but the quiet presence who existed only when he was here with her.
“You scared me.” she admitted softly.
His thumb brushed over her knuckles.
“I know.”
She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. He adjusted immediately, arm coming around her with practiced care. Outside, thunder rolled low, distant.
His hold tightened just a little.
“You’re safe” he said — a promise, not a reassurance.
Y/n tilted bdr head to look at him, eyes shining. “You didn’t have to come in this weather.”
“I wanted to” he replied simply. “I always do.”
The blanket shifted as he pulled it higher around her, tucking her in as if the storm itself might try to steal her away. When she smiled at him — soft and a little emotional — something in his expression gentled even more.
Y/n reached up first this time.
Her lips brushed his cheek, tentative and warm.
He stilled — then turned his head slightly, letting her lips meet his.
The kiss was slow, unhurried, like neither of them wanted to rush a moment the world had tried to take away.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against her's.
“You don’t have to worry for me like that,” he murmured.
“I will anyway.” you whispered back.
That night, he didn’t leave her side.
Not when she curled against his chest.
Not when rain softened into a quiet hum.
Not when sleep finally found her.
His fingers stayed loosely intertwined with her's, as if he needed the proof — her warmth, her pulse — to remind himself that he was here.
That he had made it back.
The war could wait.
The storm could rage.
For tonight, it's just her and him.
And the rain.
