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ahgasegotarmy116 · 19 days

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Shut Up and Kiss Me | Jeon Jungkook One Shot

Summary: You've been Jungkook's best friend for literal decades but what happens when it turns out he wants to be more than just friends... Pariring: Backup Dancer Reader x Idol Jungkook (f2l they're honestly crackheads I love them) Word Count:13.4k (Daym 😂) Warnings: Explicit language and sexual content yup that's it haha a/n: I got way too carried away with this but I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. Let me know what you guys think! Also barely edited but that's pretty much the usual here lol Requested by an anon 💜

"Alright ladies that's a wrap!" the lead choreographer calls out. "Thank you all so much for your hard work these past few weeks. I know this is going to be a comeback that'll go down in history!" he continues and we give ourselves a round of applause before I head over and get my dance bag and get ready to go.

"Someone's eager to get out of here" my best friend/roommate Nari teases. "I already told you I'm headed home for the weekend" I say, sitting down and changing my dance shoes into my sneakers. "Oh right, you should go see your in laws too" she teases, bumping her shoulder against mine while she does the same.

"Hey not so loud! Not everyone knows that Jungkook and I are close like that and I'd like to keep it that way. Plus we're just friends alright" I scold, looking around to see if anyone had caught wind of what she'd said. "I never said anything about Jungkook, you did" she says leaving me biting my tongue and realizing that I risked outing myself all on my own.

"I hate you" I huff and stand up to go but she grabs onto my pant leg to stop me. "No you don't" she laughs. "Be sure to bring back some of your mom's cooking" she reminds me leaving me rolling my eyes at her. "Yeah yeah I know, I'll see you later alright" I say, grabbing my bag and putting the strap around my shoulder while she waves goodbye and starts talking to some of the other dancers.

~~~~~

Walking down the hall I happen to run into Jungkook and Taehyung walking down the hall and I bow politely at both of them and they do so as well before passing each other by. "Check your phone" Jungkook whispers and I nod my head, not turning around in an effort to not cause suspicions.

"Wait is that her?" I hear Taehyung say as they walk away and all I hear moments later is Taehyung crying out in pain when I walk through the elevator doors. Turning back around, now facing them again Jungkook gives me a nervous smile and I laugh in return before leaning over towards the key panel and pressing G for garage.

Stepping out of the elevator and walking up to my car I get an all too familiar chime on my phone signaling a new message and smile once I unlock my phone.

'Working hard today? ' Jungkook sends.

'Don't I always work hard? ' I reply, putting on my seatbelt and starting up the car, making my way to the exit, my drive only being about ten minutes away to my apartment.

'Yeah your cheeks just looked extra flushed and your hair was a mess.' he teases, making me open my mirror on the sun visor, checking my hair at the red light, seeing nothing a miss with my hair but taking note of those flushed cheeks he mentioned.

'Whatever Jeon. After having seen you walking around with Taehyung definitely brought you down a few points. That man is gorgeous!' I throw back, knowinghow pouty he gets when I compliment his members. Or anyone else for that matter.

'Hey leave him out of this! I thought I looked pretty handsome today though...guess my efforts were in vein' he send and I can just imagine the facial expression he's making.

'You did look handsome Jeon but stop fishing for compliments, it doesn't suit you' I send back, complimenting him while also reprimanding him, a skill I've used time and time again when it comes to him.

Minutes later I pull into my parking spot at the apartments, quickly running upstairs to take a shower and get ready to head out, all the while Jungkook and I have been exchanging messages back and forth, well apart from me being in the shower of course.

As I put the finishing touches on my makeup and check out my outfit one last time I see an incoming FaceTime call from none other than the man himself.

"Hey!" I say, propping the phone up and walking around my room to gather up any last minute things.

"Hey! You look nice, well compared to earlier today" he says, his nose scrunching up, amused by his own words leaving me scoffing at him. "Where are you headed?" he ask seeing as I won't dignify his earlier words with a response.

"I'm about to head out to Busan to see my parents. I haven't been there for a while and my mom has been begging me to come visit for a while now. You know she's still mad at you for stealing me away from them on my birthday right?" I laugh, remembering the look on my mom's face as he was tugging me out the door.

"Yeah but we had fun right? Remind me to apologize next time I see her" he says, rubbing the back of his neck and I laugh at the bashful mannerism.

We continue on our conversation for a while and only when I hear another voice coming in on Jungkook's side do I remember that I've gotta get going.

"Hey! Why are you hiding in here? Our break was over ages ago and we need you to come record some more backing vocals" the voice I can now identify as Jimin scolds getting clearer as he no doubt comes closer.

"I'll be out there in a minute just lemme finish up this call" he says and tries to angle the phone away from Jimin to hide who he's talking to.

"Who's that?" he asks and I can see a slight flush of color bloom on Jungkook's cheeks leaving Jimin laughing when he realizes who it is. "Hi y/n!" he calls out and I laugh after seeing Jungkook roll his eyes at him.

Jimin and I met a while ago when he found out Jungkook was going to Busan and wanted to tag along, not having realized that I was doing the same thing.

"Hi Jimin!" I say happily and Jungkook sends me a quick glare through the phone. "Let's all go out soon! It feels like we haven't seen each other in ages!" he calls out and at that Jungkook starts to shoo him out.

"Alright hyung give me two minutes and I'll be right out" he says, giving him a look telling him to get out or suffer the consequences.

"Bye y/n!" he giggles and I return it saying a quick goodbye and acknowledging his invitation as well. "Bye Jimin! Time and place and I'll be there!" I finish off and he says goodbye one last time before I hear what I can assume is a door closing behind him.

"I should probably get going" I say, picking my up bag and grabbing the phone as well, glancing around one last time before putting my shoes on and walking out to the car. "Are you driving?" he questions and I confirm it as I unlock the doors and get inside, setting my phone in the dashboard mount.

"Drive safe alright! I heard it might get a little stormy out there so be careful" he warns and I nod my head while putting my seatbelt on, smiling at his slightly worried expression. "And how might you know that already?" I tease, surprised at how he could've checked since this is the first time we've spoken about this trip.

"My mom called me to complain about the weather the other day" he groans, rubbing his temple almost as if he was having flashbacks of what looks to have been a not so pleasant conversation.

"Maybe I should stop by? It's been a while since I've seen them" I suggest, remembering how Nari teased me about it earlier. "Sure! I'll let her know that you'll be there for a few days" he says and I nod while turning on the car and pulling out onto the road.

"You should probably get going too though right?" I question, laughing at the fact that he looks as though he's making himself more comfortable on the couch he's sitting on instead of making moves to head out. "Nah I should be good for another ten, they've probably moved onto the next member by now" he yawns and I laugh at his carefree nature.

"Don't you guys have a comeback coming up?" I question, trying to remind him of the responsibility he has to his team. "It's just a single so ten more minutes won't hurt" he winks making me clear my throat and focus more on the road.

We continue our conversation for that ten minutes he was sure he would be afforded before the next member comes in and scolds him, this time being Taehyung. "Who are you talking to?" is all he says before Jungkook says a quick goodbye and hangs up the call. "That man really wants to keep me away from Taehyung" I say out loud, shaking my head at his panicked expression.

Although Jungkook and I work in the same industry he still likes to hide our friendship from the rest of the company and the public in general. He's an idol and I know he wants to protect me but it's still makes me a little sad that I'm not able to meet the rest of his members, or at least not officially.

I've seen them all in passing throughout the building as I'm hired to be a backup dancer in most comebacks but I have yet to be included in one for BTS. I know it's probably for that same reason of him wanting to keep me safe but I wish he wouldn't.

I want the both of us to work freely and when possible to work together but I'll respect his wishes no matter what. At the end of the day he's the one that'll pay the price if rumors about us were to spread.

He's my best friend and I don't want anything to happen to him so if having our friendship be a secret is the way to protect him then I'll do everything I can to make sure it stays that way.

~~~~~~

As I pull up to my parent's house I see my mom eagerly waiting for me with the front door open and waving for me to come inside.

"Hurry up it's freezing out there, you'll catch a cold from that rain" she call out when I open my car door. "Nice to see you too mom" I chuckle and once I get inside she's already helping me get my rain jacket off. "Let's get out out of these wet clothes right away, I don't want you to spend what little time you have here coughing up a storm" she nags.

Always the charmer that one.

I know she means well but I just wish she would stop worrying so much. I'm a grown woman I can take care of myself. Before I'm even able to say hello to my father she's already rushing me to go into my room and get changed. "Hurry up and get dressed! Dinner's gonna be ready soon" she says while turning around and heading back into the kitchen to finish everything up.

Walking into my childhood bedroom always hits me with a wave of nostalgia especially when I see all of the pictures I have in here. Pictures as me growing up throughout the ages and noticing how Jungkook is in almost every one of them, always making me smile.

We've known each other ever since he moved into the neighborhood. We were about five years old back then and here we are, twenty five years old and our friendship is stronger than ever.

We met one day on the playground at recess when he was drawing pictures with the sidewalk chalk and I had been playing hopscotch with some of the girls in my class not too far away.

I walked up to him because I noticed he had been all by himself and I wanted to see if he wanted to play with us. He said no because he wanted to keep drawing and so I sat and watched him for a while until I asked him about what he was drawing and from that moment on we became best friends.

We would take the bus home together and take turns going to each other's houses after school and it felt as though my day never felt fully complete if I didn't see him at least once.

We were about eleven years old when he told me he wanted to be a singer and from that day I was his number one fan. Always encouraging him to sign up for talent shows at school and listening to him sing when he wanted to show me a new song he learned and that's also when I started to find my love for dance.

I couldn't really sing, well I could never sing as well as he could so I decided to start dancing. He would sing and I would come up with random routines and it would go round and round like that.

I did it mostly to make him laugh but soon he wanted to join in with me and so we became a duo. We didn't perform for anyone other than our parents when they begged us to so it was almost as if it was our little secret. Just something for the two of us.

When he heard about the show Superstar K having auditions I was the first one to tell him he should try out. He wanted us to audition together but I reminded him that he was the one who could sing. He wanted me to learn but I told him this was his moment and he needed to do it on his own.

I knew from a young age that he was going to be something special and I wasn't going to get in the way of that.

I went with him to the audition and he did amazing but he didn't make it. He didn't have the confidence in himself but I knew that if he just tried his hardest that even if he didn't make it into the show it would still put eyes on him.

When he finished his audition I saw the amount of people coming to give him offers. Seven companies wanted him to audition and I couldn't have been prouder of him!

"How do I even start to figure out which one to choose?" he complained as he shuffled through all the business cards he had been given. "Well take a look at the artists they have under their label, that might be a good place to start" I suggested and that night the two of us spent hours looking up and listening to track after track from all the different groups until our brains hurt.

"This is gonna take forever" he groaned, plopping down on his bed, exhausted after a full day of it and I can't deny that I was feeling the same way. "How about this" I say gathering all the cards up into a stack and fanning them out with the company names faced down so neither of us could see.

"Pick a card, any card" I joked and he chuckles before finally grabbing one and putting it to his chest, not daring to look just yet. I stand next to him and we both take a big breath in and out before he reveals it and the words of what would end up being his future stared us right in the face.

"Big Hit?" he questions having sounded out the english words clumsily, "What does that mean?" he asks, looking over at me like I have all the answers and luckily this time I did. "It means like really popular, like if a song comes out and everyone likes it and they always play it on the radio or something then it's a big hit" I explain and he watches me with those adorable doe eye taking in each and every word.

"So if I want to be a big hit then that means that starting with this label would be a good idea right?" he asks, tilting his head, awaiting my approval. "I mean you would think so right?" I respond and that was the last push he needed to go ahead and audition.

And thanks to our little nonsensical way of going about choosing he really did become a big hit. It took some time and a lot of effort but he made it!

"Y/n! Dinner!" my mother yells, breaking me out of my walk down memory lane. "I'll be out in a sec!" I yell back and pull off my damp shirt and replace it with a hoodie, which ironically ends up being one that Jungkook let me "borrow" even though he knew he was never gonna get it back.

"Come on y/n it's getting cold" she yells again and I have to shake my head, trying to physically will myself to stop thinking about him now but it's hard not to. Everything about this house reminds me of him, and I like it that way.

~~~~

After dinner and being bombarded with question after question about my life and job and everything the conversation somehow circles back to Jungkook. "How's he doing? He's become such a handsome young man hasn't he?" she says, elbowing my father who gives a slight grunt of approval having been focused on the tv watching some sort of sports game.

"He's alright. I saw him at work when I was leaving and then we talked on the phone a bit while I was packing up to come here" I say and her eyes light up at that fact. "Sounds like you two are still close huh?" she says in a knowing way which makes me groan. "Come on mom you know it's not like that. Jungkook is my friend" I say, taking a drink of water.

"Yeah but friends can become...friendlier" she teases making me choke on my water. "You okay sweetie?" my dad asks, now having turn his attention back to me during the commercial break. "Yeah mom is just teasing me about Jungkook again" I say, taking the napkin he's offered me.

"Well he is a fine young man y/n. Are you guys still close?" he asks and I face palm, both of them being a carbon copy of the other when it comes to him. "Yes dad we're still best friends. Are we done here? I would prefer to keep the interrogation to a minimum while I'm here" I say pushing my chair out and starting to clear the dishes away.

"Oh you know we're just joking. It's nice to see that you're still friends though, regardless of anything else" my mom says while bumping my shoulder just like Nari had. "Me too" I mumble and think about all the memories we've made together since I moved to Seoul.

With all that distance between us while I was living in Busan and even with him being caught up in the whirlwind that is the music industry we never lost touch.

There were times where his responses would be a bit sporadic but it would always be around comeback time when that would happen or sometimes at odd hours while he was on tour but we never went more than a few days without exchanging at least a message or two.

He made that promise to me the day he went to Seoul.

He promised me we would never lose touch and that we would always be there for each other and to this day we've never faltered. I know he's someone I can count on and he sure as hell can count on me too. It's us against the world. It always has been and it always will be.

~~~~

Finishing up the night spending some quality time with my parents was just what I needed. Even with all the prodding and teasing and interrogations it was still something that healed a part of me that I tended to overlook.

I've felt homesick since I left to Seoul and coming back here just makes it even more apparent so that's what keeps me away. I try to convince myself that the longer I stay away from home the better I'll start to feel but that never works. The only thing that does the trick is when I spend time with him.

Jungkook has become my little home away from home and whenever I'm with him that melancholy feeling tends to fade away and I can never thank him enough. I've never told him that but I hope that in some way I could be that for him too.

~~~~

When I wake up in the morning I text Jungkook and ask him if his mom said it would be alright for me to come over and he surprisingly answers right away.

'Yeah she said she'd love to have you and said that sometime this evening would work well' He relays so I make a mental note of it and spend the rest of the morning and afternoon with my parents before I head out to the Jeon's.

"Tell them we say hello and don't forget to give her the tea that I gave you, and try not to stay out too late, there's a storm coming in and you don't wanna get caught out in it" she calls out to me while I walk to my car. "I'll let you know when I'm on my way home" I say and give her one last wave before getting in the car and taking off.

When I reach their house I'm surprised to see a big black van outside the house but nonetheless walk up to the door anyways and ring the doorbell.

"You're here!" I'm met with a comfy looking Jungkook in a matching grey sweatsuit with a smile painted on his face. "What are you doing here?" I ask, giving him a huge hug right away. It feels like it's been ages since I've actually been able to be this close to him.

"When I heard you were coming home this weekend I realized that I should come too since I had the whole weekend off" he says, swaying as he hugs me and props his head on top of mine.

"You could've told me! I wouldn't have minded waiting to come up today" I say and he shakes his head chuckling at the suggestion. "And risk making your mom mad at me again? No thanks. Plus it wouldn't have been a surprise if I told you" he says and I lean back to look up at him.

"You know I hate surprises" I say, furrowing my brow and he pokes me in the forehead to make me stop. "Your adorable reaction says otherwise" he teases and at that his mother walks towards us. "Jungkook I told you to let her in, not make her stand in the entryway. Y/n it's so good to see you" she says giving me a big hug and dragging me further into the house.

"Would you like any coffee or tea? It's freezing out there" she says, wrapping her cardigan around herself in an effort to keep out the cold. "Tea would be great, which reminds me my mother told me to bring this to you" I say, handing her the jar of honey yuzu tea.

"Oh we had talked about this the other day! Thank you so much, why don't you go ahead and join the others and I'll bring it out to you in a minute" she says and scurries off to the kitchen.

"Others?" I ask, turning to face Jungkook who had been trailing behind us. "You'll see" he says with a devious smile and leads me towards the growing noises of a conversation being had in the other room.

"Aye what took you so long?" Jimin says, standing up and giving me a huge hug making Jungkook have to step to the side to avoid being knocked over. "I didn't know that you guys were gonna be here otherwise I would've come sooner" I laugh and Jungkook taps Jimin twice on the shoulder as a clear sign for him to let go.

"Try not to smother her, she wasn't expecting to see any of us" he says making Jimin pull away and give him a wary look that I can't really read but I go on to look around the rest of the room and am met with six more pairs of eyes.

"Oh, um hello" I say as I look around the room and see the rest of the members seated around the room who had been visiting with Mr. Jeon.

"It's been a while hasn't it?" Mr. Jeon says warmly and gives me a gentle embrace. "It has. I'm sorry, I don't come home often and when I do my mom holds me hostage" I admit and him as well as all the guys watching us laugh making me recoil a bit from the unexpected attention and end up bumping into Jungkook's chest.

"Well I'll let you young people have your fun" he says and places a hand on Jungkook's shoulder before making his way into the kitchen to be with his wife.

"You alright?" Jungkook asks and I look up at him and nod, my breathing having gone shallow from our close proximity with my back still against his chest along the 6 person audience we now have. "Just take a deep breath. They'll love you I promise" he whispers and he guides me in the rest of the way and begins introducing me.

"Guys this is y/n, y/n these are my members" he says and is quickly cut off with an arm being thrown around his neck. "Aye! Aren't we more than just your members? I thought I raised you better than that" Jin says while ruffling Jungkook's already fluffy hair.

"Alright, alright get off me" Jungkook groans as he shoves Jin off playfully. "Y/n these are my hyungs" he corrects and at that theres a collective nod amongst the rest. "You already know all of their names so yeah" Jungkook says, scratching the back of his neck and I smile as I see the tips of his ears are getting a bit red.

"Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung I'm one of the backup dancers that HYBE employs every once in a while so I'm pretty familiar with you all or at least I know a lot about you I mean I-" "It's very nice to meet you y/n" Namjoon says, cutting off my nervous rambling right from the start.

"You guys too! Jungkook talks about you all so much that I almost feel like I know you already" I say and they all smile at that. "We feel the same way, Jungkook never shuts up about you" Taehyung says and I can feel Jungkook stiffen behind me and I smile, happy but somehow nervous having learned that information.

"Hyung, a word?" Jungkook says, singling out the one that's closest in age to him and I can see Taehyung's whole body droop before he gets up, realizing the kind of scolding he's bound to get.

Once they leave I'm left with the other five but luckily Jimin is still here so I'm not totally alone. "So y/n Jungkook tells us you've been friends since you were kids right?" Jin asks, starting the conversation off smoothly so as to not put too much pressure on me.

"Yeah! We met when we were about five years old. It really feels like I've know him my whole life" I say, smiling shyly and Jimin takes the initiative of leading me over to sit on one of the arm chairs. "Twenty years is definitely a long time. It's crazy how you guys have been able to stay friends that long with him being an idol and all that" Hoseok says, elbows rested on his knees almost fascinated at the thought.

"Well he made a promise to me before he went to Seoul and promises are very important to us" I say and they all nod, having experienced the same with him since they had known each other for ages already as well. "So you guys are best friends right?" Namjoon asks, leaning forward as well, as if he's working his way up to asking another question.

"I mean yeah, it's kind of embarrassing but besides him and my roommate I don't really have any other friends. Well I mean I have the dancers I work with but they're more colleagues than anything" I relay and they give me a sad smile.

"Yeah that seems to be the case when you work in this industry but hey any friend of Jungkook is a friend of ours as well so you just gained six more friends to add to the list!" Hoseok chimes in.

"Thank you guys that really means a lot to me. I've just been so career minded that I haven't really taken time to make new friends" I say and I'm met with a strong hand on my shoulder making me look up and see a smiling Jungkook looking down at me. "Luckily I'm here though right?" he asks almost as if my words had made him a little insecure.

"Of course! You'll always be my best friend. Nothing and no one will ever change that" I say, placing my hand on top of his and giving it a firm squeeze.

Something Jungkook always seems to need is reassurance about us and that we'll always be together. It might just be because I'm sure he's gained and lost a lot of friends having worked in this industry and seen people's true colors as they started to grow in popularity.

It's probably hard for him to know who he can and cannot really trust outside of his members.

"Hey what's with that look Jungkook come on sit down there's no need to be so serious" Namjoon says and Hoseok joins in making Jungkook feel a bit more at ease. "Can we sit together?" Jungkook whispers and I nod before getting up and he sits down where I had just been and pulls me down onto his lap.

This isn't an unusual thing between us but from the looks of the six pairs of eyes staring back at us you would think we had done something scandalous.

"Is everything alright guys?" I ask, watching as they collectively start looking back and forth between us before Yoongi chimes in. "Calm down guys they said they're just friends" he says and so eventually the weirdness that had settled in goes away and we continue on throughout the night laughing and talking into the wee hours in the morning.

~~~~

"Is it really already two?" Jimin says and at that I jump. "Wait are you serious? My mom is probably freaking out thinking I got caught out in the storm. I need to get going" I say trying to stand up but I'm stopped with a strong arm around my waist, keeping me in place.

"You mom called my mom a couple of hours ago to make sure you were okay and she told her that you would probably just be staying over tonight because of the storm" he whispers and I shudder at the thought.

Jungkook and I haven't spent the night together since he left for Seoul so the thought of doing it now when I'm sitting on his lap and with his hand dangerously close to crawling under my shirt has me feeling breathless. "Oh okay, but where am I gonna sleep?" I ask and he smiles at that.

"You'll sleep with me in my room, you know, for old times sake" he offers with a shy smile and I nod, nervous but not nervous enough to turn him down. It's Jungkook after all. We're best friends right? Just friends...

~~~~~

"Goodnight guys!" I say after the eight of us have talked for another hour or so, Jungkook following close behind as we make our way upstairs. "Text me if you guys need anything but try not to need me" Jungkook says and I see all of the guys give him a knowing smile besides Jin who has been scandalized by the thought of anything happening but it wasn't something that I had caught onto just yet.

"Behave" is all he says and Jungkook rolls his eyes at him before he rushes me upstairs with Jin scolding him all the way but he's quickly silenced by Yoongi, reminding him that Jungkook's parents are asleep.

"They seem really nice" I say once we've gotten into Jungkook's room. "Yeah they're alright" he says, walking over to his closet and throwing me a tee shirt and a pair of sweats, grabbing the same for himself.

"I'm gonna go use the bathroom unless you want to first?" he asks and I shake my head allowing him to do as he says with him closing the door behind him, leaving me alone in his childhood bedroom just like I had been in mine.

It's been ages since I've been in here, let alone slept in here and I feel as though everything has almost been frozen in time. His mirroring mine with all the pictures his mom and dad had taken of us over the years and even a few of his old drawings he had pinned up on the wall.

I start to get undressed and put on the sweats first and when I'm slipping his shirt over my head his door opens and quickly put it on the rest of the way and hear him start apologizing. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I forgot to knock" he says quickly and when I turn around he has both of his hands over his eyes.

"It's alright no big deal" I laugh and he shift from one foot to the other nervously. "Can I open my eyes now?" he asks and I laugh at his almost innocent nature. "Yes you can open your eyes" I say and pinch his side making him flinch. "Hey!" he says and I shush him immediately reminding him of all the sleeping people on the level bellow us.

"No one can hear us from up here you know that" he laughs, reminding me that his parents bedroom as well as everyone else is downstair on the opposite side of the house. The only things upstairs being his older brother's old room and his father's office.

"We should still be quiet" I scold playfully and he takes that as a challenge. "Oh yeah?" he says taking a step towards me and making me take a step back. "Yeah" I say, less confident in my wording than before leaving him lunging at me and tickling me mercilessly to the point where I can't even breathe anymore.

"J-jungkook stop!" I say between painful laugher and he only stops when I start hitting him. "Okay okay. Truce?" he asks, pulling back and holding out his hand to shake. "Truce" I echo, shaking his hand to seal the deal.

We stand there for a second with our hands still connected and swaying them back and forth, neither of us really knowing where to go from here. "We should probably get some sleep" I offer and he nods his head and leads me over to his bed letting me climb in first and him following soon after since his bed and placed against the wall.

"You need anything else? Another pillow? Maybe another blanket?" he asks after we've both settled in. "With the human heater you are? No I'll be fine" I say and he pushes my shoulder a bit me having faced away from him.

I turn around and realize that that might've been my first mistake of many to come.

"Tell me about the comeback you're working on. Have they been nice to you?" he asks, laying on his side facing me, suddenly becoming a bit serious. "Oh, um yeah everyone is really nice and the boys although energetic and goofy have been very professional about it all" I say in reference to the Enhypen comeback I'm working on.

"What's the name of their title track again?" he asks, settling in a bit and moving just a little bit closer, hardly noticeable unless you were fixated on it like I am right now. "Bite Me. You know because their whole back story for the group is Vampires" I say, laughing it off since it could be interpreted in many different ways.

He hums in acknowledgement lost in thought as he glances down at my lips for a second that I nervously bite in response. "It's a partnered dance right? I've heard about it in passing" he asks and I nod my head, "Who are you paired up with?" he asks, tonging his cheek at the thought of it.

"Sunghoon. He's been very quiet and very respectful. If anything I wish he would talk to me a little bit more so we could feel a bit more comfortable with each other but I'm sure we'll get there" I laugh, remembering how he barely spoke to me when we initially got paired up.

"Does he call you Noona?" he asks and I swallow at the thought of him being jealous because if there's one thing I know about Jungkook is that he get's extremely jealous.

"Um, yeah, they all do. You know I don't like keeping that overly formal relationship with anyone so it's been helpful breaking down those walls and a way of treating them as regular guys instead of idols. I think they get enough treatment like that you know?" I ask and he hums in response, not having much more to ask for a few beats.

"How close do you guys get? Like does he put his hands on you?" he asks, clenching his jaw a bit and that's a dead ringer for his jealously growing. "Jungkook this is a part of my job. He doesn't do more than he's supposed to and same with me" I say and I can see how his mood starts to change a bit.

"Hey, what's got you all upset about this?" I ask, not wanting to beat around the bush. I know better and it's best to just confront these things head on. "I just don't like the thought of other guys touching you. I know, I know it's stupid and it shouldn't upset me but it does" he says, flopping down on his back and throwing his arm over his face.

I sit up and turn towards him, pulling his arm off and making him look at me. "Why does it bother you?" I ask, genuinely curious as to why something like this would make him upset.

"Do I really need to spell it out to you?" he says furrowing his brow as if I've done something wrong. "Well obviously you do because I don't understand why you would care about thi-" I start but he cuts me off by pulling my arm and making me fall onto his chest.

"Jungkook I-" "No, don't say anything. Push me away if you don't want this but please don't overthink it" he says, flicking his eyes between my eyes and lips, looking more vulnerable than he ever has.

I hold my breath, taking in what is happening between us and there's nothing inside of me that doesn't want this and he knows that.

We stay there for another second or two until he puts his hand on my neck keeping me in place. "Last chance" he whispers, his breath fanning against my lips and before I can even second guess myself I'm pressing my lips against his.

He keeps one hand on my neck and the other one has found it's way to my hip, trailing up and down my side and eventually grabbing onto my thigh to guide me to straddle him, making the kiss more intense and full of longing.

"We shouldn't be doing this" I say when I break the kiss for a second but he pulls me back in kissing me again in protest. "Shut up" he whispers as a way to remind me to not overthink it.

I run one of my hands through his hair and grip onto the strands wanting to keep him here and never let him go and that sparks a new intensity to the kiss him now flipping us over so I'm now on my back.

I giggle against his lips and he smiles against mine kissing me more and more into a daze, drunk on his lips and the way he's touching me.

His hands become a bit more bold as one stays on my jaw while the other trails up my shirt, keeping a strong hand against my hip squeezing it as a way to tell me he wants more, wants everything I'll give him.

He switched from keeping his hips hovering above me to pressing against mine, chancing a soft grind against them making me whine at the contact making him do it again earning more soft sounds from me.

Soon he grinding into me, his hard on having been brushing against my clit, the friction driving me mad making me breathe out his name when his lips start to trail down my jaw and along my neck, kissing and sucking and biting his way down while his hips never falter.

"Tell me to stop" he says, pulling away and looking down on me, making me furrow my brows in confusion. "Tell me to stop and I will but if I keep going I don't think I'll be able to stop" he says, his lips wet and swollen, his hair a mess and I would be out of my mind if I pushed him away now.

"Don't stop" I say, placing my hand on his neck and guiding him back down to my lips, needing him like I need air and he growls against my lips, his excitement growing ask he slips his hands further up my shirt, now resting on my ribs, so close yet so far from touching me where I want him to.

I whine and he chuckles against my lips before asking me if he can take my shirt off which I answer by sitting up and pulling it off myself leaving him to do the same. My eyes widen seeing his sculpted muscles being a lot more defined than I thought they would be and he smirks once he sees my reaction.

"Like what you see?" he asks and I hit his chest before pulling him back down. "Just shut up and kiss me" I scold and he does just that.

His hands roam the bare skin I've revealed to him and he starts to trail his lips down my neck and onto my chest where he suck marks on it until he's stopped by my bra. He bites it and tugs on a little to gauge my reaction and I arch my back as a wordless plea to take it off which he does immediately.

He curses at the sight of them before looking back up at me. "You're so pretty" he says before pressing his lips up against mine again. his hands finding their way to my breasts first, squeezing them and toying with my nipples granting him more whines when he squeezes a bit too hard.

"You're so good to me" he says trailing his lips down my chest again sucking marks into me as if he way trying to paint me as his own, leaving me with the proof of what we had done together.

When he wraps his lips around my nipple I know that I'm a goner, my whole body on fire and all my senses trained on him.

Watching as his brows furrow in concentration, hearing as he groans against them, giving both of them the same attention making me lose my mind. Still tasting him on my tongue, smelling the minty flavor as he licked it into my mouth. Feeling his hands traveling lower, toying with the drawstring I have tied tight around my waist.

He lets go of my nipple leaving it puffy wet, hardening even more from the cold air reaching it after having been left the warmth of his mouth. "Can I take them off?" he asks and I nod my head but he shakes his. "Use your words" he says, tugging on the string but not enough to untie it.

"Yes Jungkook please" I choke out, my rational brain having been lost a long time ago. "Can I take it all off?" he says toying with the waistband of my under ware as well. "Yes" I say and he smile from not having to prompt me again.

He looks at me for another second and then he busies himself with taking off the last bits of clothing that was hiding me from him.

Once he pulls it all off he curses from being met with my glistening folds and trails his hands up my thighs and looks up at me wordlessly asking for permission. "Touch me Jungkook please, do something" I groan, getting restless with the pace he's going at.

"Patience princess" he taunts and I hold my breath after hearing that pet name roll off his tongue like that. "You gonna be quiet for me?" he asks, trailing his nose against my inner thigh. "I thought you said n-no one could hear us up here" I choke out and he chuckles dryly, surprised I've still got enough of a clear mind to talk back.

"That's true but it depends on where you are in the house. In a perfect world they would all be sound asleep but if someone was to be roaming around, well let's just say it's best if you stay as quiet as you can" he says, blowing cold air onto my center leaving me flinching at the feeling.

"Me? What about y-you?" I stutter and he tilts his head at me. "We both know who the loud one is gonna be" he says now cocking a brow at me, daring me to argue otherwise which I don't leaving him turning his attention back to what he was about to do.

He looks between my folds for a second almost studying it and I groan a bit, embarrassed at the sight but he simply kisses my inner thigh in response. "Everything about you is so pretty even your pretty little pussy. Even better than I thought it would be" he says and before I'm able to react to that he's already put his mouth on me.

Tracing his tongue up and down my folds and sucking on my clit, taking his time and being gentle with me, learning what brings me the most pleasure from the sounds I'm making and the way my thighs start shaking.

"You're so perfect. So pretty and vocal for me" he growls and I moan a his words of praise. He continues his ministrations until my back is arching off the bed and I'm so close to cumming stopping only to praise me again tipping me over.

"There you go, so so good for me" he says, pumping his fingers inside me to fuck me through my high, only stopping when it gets to be too much. "You did so well. So quiet for me, making sure only I could hear you. Making all kinds of soft sounds for me" he praises before kissing me, making me taste myself on his tongue, moaning into his mouth and never wanting to come back to reality.

"You think you can give me another one?" he asks, squeezing my hip and dragging his eyes down my body again. "Yeah" I whisper, watching as his hunger grows. "You gonna let me fuck this pretty little pussy? Been dying to for so long" he says making my eyes widen, realizing that what I heard before wasn't something I made up.

"You've been what?" I ask, getting breathless at the thought of him wanting me like this. "Haven't you figured it out yet? It's been so hard for me to stay away from you. I just didn't realize I had been doing that good of a job" he says and I get even more confused.

"Jungkook what are you trying to say?" I ask, wanting to get a straight answer out of him. "You're really gonna make me say it...Alright" he mutters to himself and I can see how embarrassed he's gotten all of a sudden.

"I know this has kind of been done backwards but I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember and I know love is a strong word and I know now isn't the best time to say something like this but I-" he rambles but I pull him down into a kiss that shows him that I've felt the same way. I've just been too scared to admit it.

"Just fuck me and we'll talk about this later" I say against his lips, breathless from how long that kiss had gone on. "Someone's eager" he teases and I glare at him telling him to get on with it or stop. "Okay okay" he laughs and strips down and lays between my legs.

My eyes widen at the sheer size of him, he's not too big but definitely bigger than I would've thought based on how tight his jeans have been throughout the years. "It's okay I'll make sure it won't hurt" he says nudging his nose against mine.

"Do you trust me?" he asks and I answer 'yes' without any hesitation. "Tap me twice if it gets to be too much" he says and I nod before he's planting his lips against mine while he rubs the tip up and down my folds making me mewl and pull him closer.

He pushes the tip in and it's already got me close to cumming. After everything that's happened today I never thought we would've ended up here. He presses in further and I let out a high pitched whimper and he stops, breaking the kiss.

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking down on me, mesmerized by the sight of my flushed cheeks and dilated pupils with the fucked out expression I'm already giving him. "Yes keep going" I pant out and pull him back down into a kiss, trying to muffle my gasps and moans against his lips.

Once he's bottomed out he stops, enjoying to warmth of my walls and grunting when he feels how hard I'm clenching around him. "Fuck, are you alright?" he asks, turning his full attention to me, pushing away his urges and making sure that I'm feeling good too.

"So big, I'm sorry just gimme a sec" I pant and he chuckles, placing a soft pecks on my lips. "We'll take it slow" he says and after a couple more seconds I tell him to move. He slowly pulls out of me the slightest bit and pushes back in, inching further and further out making his thrusts go deeper every time.

"Fuck you're so tight" he grunts, biting my shoulder as a way to drown out some of his sounds of pleasure. He's finally able to pull almost all the way out, leaving just the tip in and he looks down at where we're connected and curses under his breath before he thrusts back inside of me, bottoming out and knocking the air out of my lungs.

He settles into a faster pace than before, growling in my ear how good I'm making him feel. "Fuck I've been dying to do this for so long. You drive me fucking insane, making me feel so fucking good. You're so perfect for me" he says, praising me and driving me utterly speechless, not being able to think straight and the only word that falls from my lips over and over are his name muttered amongst other incoherent noises that only encourage him to keep going.

My walls flutter around him and start getting tighter, a clear sign to him that I'm close and he coaches me through it. "I know, I know" he mutters, his forehead resting up against mine as our breath intermingles, getting closer and closer to that high.

"I can't I can't" I cry out, squeezing around him and making him curse, a few tears streaming down my face "It's okay, you can cum" he says and at that I tip over the edge losing myself and forgetting to be quiet, making him throw a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries.

"S-so close princess" he stutters out and I nod, letting him fuck me through my high and he's cumming soon after, smashing his lips on mine, not trusting himself to muffle his own cries.

He continues doing shallow thrusts into me until he's spent, both of us panting and overstimulated and he pulls out of me making both of us hiss at the feeling before he plops down on his back beside me.

We lay there for a second, catching our breaths and when I glance over at him I realize that he's already been looking at me and without saying a word we both bust out laughing.

"Did that really just happen?" I question, flipping over on my side to face him. "Yeah, um I guess it did" he chuckles nervously, running his fingers through his hair. "What's wrong?" I ask, scared that he might've regretted it. "No nothing's wrong! You're perfect, this was perfect I just feel bad about doing this all wrong" he says, overthinking things just like he told me not to.

"Hey, this is us we're talking about. Nothing ever ends up going the way it's supposed to. I don't regret doing it this way. Do you?" I ask, hoping his answer will be no. "I don't regret it I just wish I could've confessed to you properly. You know, asking you out on a date and all of that stuff" he says, more shy than anything.

"Jungkook we've known each other for twenty years. I think we're past doing things properly. Plus for what it's worth" I pause and whisper in his ear, "I'm in love with you too" I say and the next second I'm back on my back with him on top of me again.

"You're just dying to get fucked again aren't you?" he growls, against my lips making me laugh at his change in demeanor. One second he's a shy insecure Koo and the next he's Jeon Jungkook ready to fuck my brains out. I wouldn't want it any other way though.

"Maybe" I tease and and he trails a hand up and down my inner thigh. "What do you mean maybe? Hmm?" he says trailing kisses down my neck this time leaving big smooches making so much noise with each kiss leaving me writhing around, laughing and trying to push him off from how ticklish it is.

After we've both calmed down he gazes down at me, taking in all my features before gliding his eye down my torso to where we're pressed against each other.

"You ready?" he asks, trailing his finger up and down my slit making me shiver at the process. "Still so wet for me" he groans, kissing me and playing with my clit making me squirm. "Please" I breathe out and he lines back up before looking up at me. I nod my head and he looks back down, pushing just the tip in and noticing how I tense up.

"Still sensitive?" he asks, running a hand up and down my side, giving me kisses trying to make me feel more comfortable. "A little. Just go slow" I say and he nods, pushing into me inch by inch taking care to read my reactions and slow down when my breathing picks up until he's bottomed out.

He kisses me on the forehead and rasps a chant of praises in my ear. "So good for me. You're doing so well. You feel so good. You were made for me" amongst other things that give me a fluttery feeling in my stomach and making me let out breathy moans in response.

"Can I move?" he asks and I take a deep breath before nodding and he takes my words from before so seriously. Rocking his hips back and forth so carefully and making my mind melt, feeling every inch and whining when he hits that spot.

"Right there?" he asks, hitting it again and he takes my gasp for breath as a response, getting high from how good I feel wrapped around him and all the reactions I couldn't hold back even if I tried. This pace feeling more intense, more intimate.

As we reach our highs, one soon after the other I find myself slowly losing consciousness and he kisses me until I fade away, loving how slow and lazy they get as the minutes pass by.

He pulls out of me once I've slowly drifted off leaving me mewling in my sleep making him lose his mind and wanting to go again but he holds himself back and chooses to laugh at how adorable he find me. Lazy and fucked out with a small pout on my lips making him somehow fall even more in love with me.

He knows I should pee but he'll let me rest for a bit, going to the bathroom to clean himself up before coming back to watch me sleep before ultimately cleaning me up, knowing that I'll hate the feeling of waking up messy more than waking up to him taking care of me.

I whine in my sleep when he dabs the warm towel around and on my center, apologizing and doing his best to hurry up but still making sure to be gentle with me. Once he's almost finished is when I finally come to and start to open my sleep ridden eyes.

"I'm sorry I had to wake you but you should really go pee before we go to bed" he says and I hum in agreement, taking a second to wake up before reaching out my hand, a nonverbal plea for him to help me up which he does so graciously.

Luckily he has an ensuite and so I don't have to worry about covering up but I still end up grabbing his shirt and slipping it on before having him help me to the bathroom, legs still feeling wobbly as a result of what he did to me.

He laughs at my efforts and decides to scoop me up instead, plopping me down on my feet and leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him to thankfully grant me some privacy, we're close but not I'll go to the bathroom in front of you close.

I sit down and take a second to clear my head, trying to process everything that just happened.

I just slept with my best friend who has been in love with me for years and I finally admitted to the both of us that I have been too and now...well now what? I take a deep breath and finish up, standing up and flushing to toilet before going to wash my hands, gasping at the sight of my mascara running down my face, it's not a lot but still.

"Why didn't you tell me I looked like this?" I whine, catching him in the middle of changing the sheets. "What's the problem? You look hot" he says nonchalantly. "More like a hot mess" I groan, helping him finish up making the bed.

"The fact that I made sure you look freshly fucked is hot" he says, coming up to me and grabbing me by my hips, pulling me into him and planting a smooch on my pouty lips that I eventually relax and deepen the kiss into a slow sensual one.

"No, not again" I say breaking the kiss and stepping back. "How did you know I was gonna-" "We might not have done this before but that doesn't mean I don't know what you're up to" I say, turning away from him and going back to the bathroom, making sure to sway my hips a little bit to taunt him.

"Keep acting like that and you won't be leaving this room anytime soon" he growls as I slowly close the door leaving it open just enough for me to stick my head out. "Is that a threat?" I ask playfully, loving the reactions I'm getting out of him. "That's a promise princess" he rasps leaving me widening my eyes before closing the door quickly and quietly behind me, still close enough to hear his dry laugh in amusement.

After washing my face and using a new toothbrush I found in his drawer I climb back into bed and he pulls me into him immediately, leaning over me and placing his phone on his bedside table and notice there's somewhat of an unreadable expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask, leaning back to look at him, worried that something might've happened. "Nothings wrong I just think you're gonna get mad at me if I tell you" he says, laying back down and pulling me closer, making it harder for me to look at him but I pull back again.

"Why would I get mad at you?" I ask, now even more suspicious. "A few of the guys heard us" he mumbles and I jump up almost falling out of the bed in the process. "What do you mean a few?" I ask, horrified at the thought. "All of them..." he say, wincing at the thought of my next reaction.

"All of them?!?!? Jungkook you said no one could hear us up hear!" I whisper scream, blushing at the fact that we got found out so easily. "Well everyone but Yoongi. He was the first one to knock out but I'm sure the guys will end up telling him" he relays, mumbling the last part.

"Jungkook" I scold, hitting his chest a few times. "Hey we're adults and we didn't do anything wrong. It's their fault for being perverts" he says, rolling his eyes at the thought.

"What did they hear..." I ask just above a whisper as if the walls had ears. "Nothing too crazy just the bed creaking a bit and some muffled voices" he says and at the I craw under the covers, trying my best to disappear.

"Hey what's the matter" he chuckles trying to pull the blanket off of me but I keep a strong grip on it. "Just leave me here to die" I groan and he laughs again. "Come on it's not that serious" he says, trying to pull them off, this time succeeding.

"Nothing serious? You just told me that your bandmates, that mind you I just met tonight-" "Well technically it was yesterday..." he cuts me off. "Not the point! You're telling me they not only heard us having sex but it was after the both of us swore up and down we were just friends? Jungkook I'm never gonna be able to face them" I say, grabbing a pillow and laying down on my back, burring my face in it.

"Just do it, put me out of my misery" I plead, my voice muffled while I ask him to smother me which he does so for about ten seconds before letting up after I start making noise. "You were really about to kill me weren't you?" I say, sitting back up and hitting him with the pillow before he grabs it and throws it on the other side of the bed and out of reach.

"No...but I do like the idea of breath play" he grins and I tackle him, making him fall on his back and trapping his wrists against the mattress. "This isn't funny Jeon this is serious" I scold and he laughs, enjoying how completely and utterly mortified I am.

"How did they even find out?" I groan, rubbing my temples and sitting back, still straddling his waist. "Taehyung was looking for a bathroom and woke Jimin up to help him find it and when they heard us Jimin woke Hobi up who tried to wake Yoongi up but he just groaned out a cruse leaving Hobi waking Namjoon up who hesitated, but still ended up waking Jin up" he lists off making me cringe more and more as the list goes on.

"That's it, I'm staning Seventeen. My bias is Mingyu and my bias wrecker is Hoshi. Here's my Army card and my light stick" I say, holding out two empty hands and he swats them away, refusing the offer

"Hey! Why out of the thirteen of them does my best friend need to be your bias? Am I not enough?" he pouts. "You're enough but that doesn't mean I can't pick a bias. It's not my fault all your friends are hot" as soon as the words leave my mouth he flips me on my back, glaring at me with a jealousy I've never seen from him.

"Come again?" he growls. "No that's alright, three's good enough for me" I say, teasing him and using an alternate meaning instead. "Ha Ha you're soooo funny" he says with a fake laugh, rolling his eyes at me.

He gets off and leans up against the headboard, letting out a huge sigh and running his fingers through his hair. "Hey you know I'm just teasing you. You're the only idol, no, the only man I need in my life alright" I say, pulling his face back towards me and kissing him, soft and sweet and he tries to deepen it again but I pull away leaving him groaning at the denial yet again.

"Nope bed" I say, tapping him twice on the chest and turning around, giving him my back. "Come on please" he whines, cuddling up close and rubbing his already semi hard against me. "I'm tired Jungkook" I say, pushing his hips off of me and he pouts burying his face into my neck.

"Can I put it in? I won't do anything" he says against my skin, placing a couple kisses here and there leaving me hardly any sanity to say no. "You're into cock warming huh?" I chuckle and he hum in acknowledgment.

"Come on please" he asks, rubbing it against my ass again until I finally lose the mental battle I'm having. "Fine but I wanna sleep Jeon so no funny business" I say and he quickly takes off the boxers he had thrown on and lifts up the shirt I'm wearing and eases it inside of me, nothing stopping him since I have nothing on underneath.

I whine a bit at the stretch, this being a different angle than before and he kisses my neck to distract from the pain. Once he's settles in he takes the strong hand he had gripping my hip and slides it up my waist, grabbing one of my boobs and sigh, comfortable and ready to pass out.

"Who said you could touch me like that too?" I ask and he shushes me and goes quiet, quickly drifting off to sleep. 'This man is unbelievable' I think to myself and try to ease my mind, breathing and trying to distract myself from the fact that I have Jungkook's dick inside of me while he's happily asleep behind me with his big tattooed hand around my breast, occasionally squeezing it in his sleep.

After coaching myself through it and mentally blocking it all out I eventually drift off to get some well earned rest...

~~~~

"Jungkook, y/n breakfast!" is the next thing I hear, Mrs. Jeon calling us to come down and it takes everything in me to not ignore it and fall back asleep. "Jungkook" I say sleepily, still in a fucked out daze with my senses coming back to me one by one and remembering that I still have his dick buried deep inside me.

"Jungkook your mom made us breakfast" I mumble out and all I'm left with are his soft snores and his hand squeezing my breast, still very much asleep. I take a deep breath and try to figure out my options here and decide to give him a not so rude awakening, fucking myself back against him leaving him stirring awake, letting out breathy moans still not fully conscious of what's going on.

Once he starts to come to he slides his hand down to my hip, mumbling my name sleepily against my skin. "You're not playing fair" he says, moaning into my ear and only making me need him even more. "They called for us to come down for breakfast" and at that she echoes what she said before leaving Jungkook groaning, hating the thought of stopping.

"Be there in a minute" he yells, trying to keep his voice level. "That hurt" I complain, scolding him for yelling in my ear. "You'll get over it" he says and bites down on my neck before gripping my hip again. He takes over, thrusting harder into me leaving me covering my mouth, staying quiet as a mouse knowing that for sure anyone could hear us.

After both of us have come down from our high Jungkook give my shoulder as kiss and slips out, both of hating the loss of contact but knowing we need to stop. He gets up and brings me a warm damp towel and cleans me up before throwing me some new clothes to change into.

"Can I borrow a hoodie too?" I ask and he turns around, placing it on the bed next to me. We take turns going into the bathroom and straightening ourselves up and I shrug the hoodie on at the end, throwing the hood up, pulling the drawstrings and tying them tight leaving him laughing at the sight.

"What?" I ask, glaring at him. "You look ridiculous" he snorts and I roll my eyes leaving the bathroom and going back into his room, "I'd rather look ridiculous than show everyone downstairs what you did to me" I say, plopping down on his bed and waiting for him to put a shirt on although I would very much prefer he didn't.

"It's fine don't worry about it. All the guys already know" he says, throwing on a hoodie on as well after noticing how cold it is. "Yeah but what about your parents! There's no way in hell I'm letting them see this" I say, crossing my arms over my chest and mentally praying that I'll sink into the floor to avoid this interaction all together.

"They already know that I've liked you for the longest time so it was only a matter of time until this happened" and my jaw drops at the thought. "Your mom knew too? How many people knew before me" I ask, scared of what the answer might be. "Pretty much everyone that I'm close to. Even your parents knew" he says giving me a crooked smile.

"My parents knew?!?!" I gasp in total disbelief that this is happening. "It's not my fault you're oblivious" he say and I wack him in the arm leaving him laughing at, from his perspective my continued adorable reactions.

"Let's just go downstairs and have breakfast alright. I promise you everyone knew this was gonna happen and they all have been very supportive of it for the longest time" he says, guiding me up and out of his room. "You know this isn't making me feel any better right?" I pout and his only response is placing a kiss on my lips before running downstairs leaving me behind.

I take a deep breath and follow slowly behind him into the most embarrassing breakfast I'm sure I'll ever have.

"Good morning sleepy heads" Mrs. Jeon greets us as she places a bowl of strawberries on the table along with the other incredible looking food already set out for us. "Good morning" I say and plop down on the seat next to Jimin and across from Jungkook.

"Did you guys sleep alright" he asks with a knowing smile leaving me sinking further down on the seat and covering my face. "I don't wanna talk about it" I mumble and he laughs but leaves it at that. It doesn't stop the amused glances from the rest of the group and the not so subtle teasing along with it though.

"You alright there y/n you look kinda cold" Tae says as I take a drink of water making me choke, Jimin tapping on my back as I cough through it and try to catch my breath. "Yeah just a little" I say and glance over at Jungkook who is clearly loving this.

He winks at me before reaching for my plate and adding some food to it, knowing what I like and don't like and putting the perfect amount.

You know, I really am oblivious now that I think about it. He's always done stuff like this and has always taken care of me and wants to make sure I'm okay. I guess I always just chalked it up to friendship but again, I'm clearly just oblivious.

~~~~~

As the breakfast continues it goes from harmless teasing to comfortable conversation and soon we're all getting ready to head off.

Once Jungkook and I are back upstairs I go into his room with the intention of gathering up my stuff but he has other ideas and presses me against the door, kissing me breathless.

"Jungkook we need to get going" I groan and he kisses me once more before backing away. "Okay I just can't help it" he says, sad as if he had gotten his gameboy taken away. "I'm sure you'll live" I laugh and he rolls his eyes before getting a bag for me to put my stuff in and making sure I find everything.

"Here" he says, throwing me my bra he found that had some how ended up the opposite side of the room. "Hey!" I yell and he giggles at my reaction before running out and heading downstairs.

"Is y/n ready?" Jin asks as he looks back up towards the way that Jungkook had just came from. "Yeah she'll be out in a second" he says and Jin nods before smacking him upside the head.

"Hey! What was that for?" he yells, making all the guys laugh at the interaction. "I told you to behave yet you did the exact opposite" he scolds, reminding him of the warning he gave us before we went upstairs.

"Yeah well it kinda just...happened" he says shyly. "Uh huh" Jin says, rolling his eyes at him and walking out the door with a few other members. "I just hope you were careful" Hobi says putting a hand on my shoulder. "Hyung" he whines, dragging the word out leaving Hobi giggling on his way out to the car.

"You gonna be ready to head out?" Namjoon asks when the others have already placed all of their stuff in the trunk. "Yeah but I'm gonna head back with y/n. I'll have a staff member pick me up from her place later" he says and Namjoon gives him a suspicious look before nodding and heading out as well.

When Namjoon is just walking out is when I just start coming downstairs. "Oh are you guys all heading out?" I question surprised to see them go so soon. "They're gonna get going but I'm gonna drive back with you. Well as long as that's okay with you?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck again, I swear that's my favorite thing he does.

"Sure, you can drive back with me" I say giving him a soft smile making him light up. "Awesome! Lemme just go say goodbye to mom" he says hurriedly and rushes to go find them with me following slowly behind.

"You guys taking off too?" she asks, giving me a hug after letting go of Jungkook. "Yeah I've got a lot of work to do and need to rehearse before I meet up with the artists again this week" I say, pulling back and giving her a soft smile. "Well don't work too hard and make sure to keep an eye on him. And for heavens sake Jungkook ask her on a date already" she teases, whacking Jungkook on the arm.

"Mom" Jungkook whines and I smile at the interaction. "Don't worry I'll keep him in check" I say and she chuckles while Jungkook glares at me.

"Where's Mr. Jeon?" I question not seeing him anywhere. "Oh he had some errands to run but I'll let him know that you said goodbye" she says, placing a soft hand on my arm. "Yes please give him my best and thank you so much for everything! Hopefully we'll see each other again soon" I say and she nods and starts to walk us out.

"I'm sure we will, you've gotta make sure to drag him along with you" she says, whacking him on the arm again leaving him rubbing the area, no doubt a bit sensitive from being thoroughly abused this morning. "I will" I say and we finish up our goodbyes at Jungkook's house and are soon finishing up at my parent's house as well.

"Ask her out on a date already Jungkook I want some grandkids" my mom not so subtly whispers. "Mom!" I whine, surprised that she would be so bold to say something like that. "Honey you're not slick I promise. I could only imagine the damage that hoodie is hiding under there" she says with a wink. "MOM!" I yell and Jungkook giggles, oh how the turntables have turntabled.

"Don't worry I've got it all under control" Jungkook says, giving my mom a hug and she's quickly shooing us out, reminding us to drive safe. "Hey toss me the keys" Jungkook says leaving my brows furrowed together but doing so all the same.

"You wanna drive?" I question and he nods his head happily. "Yeah I don't get to do it often so I like to do it when I can" he explains, sinking down into the driver's seat. "You know that really makes me regret my decision" I say worriedly, doing just the same. "Oh come on I'm a great driver" he says, and I cock a brow at him. "Uh huh" I say, emphasizing each syllable and he rolls his eyes at me, starting the car and backing out of the driveway after we've both put our seatbelts on.

We wave goodbye to my mom one last time and then we're on our way back to Seoul.

"You know you better not make me regret this" I warn after we've been driving for a while making him look over at me. "Regret what?" he asks, turning down the music that we've been listening to. "Letting you take my virginity" I say and he swerves slightly. "Hey be careful!" I scold and quickly regains control of himself again.

"You what? You mean to tell me that a fine ass, driven, mature and independent woman like you was a virgin?" he says, shocked at the thought. "Well it's the fact that I'm so driven and independent that that anything like that was put on the back burner. Plus how am I gonna find a regular guy attractive when I'm surrounded by idols all day?" I say and he sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Don't get jealous" I taunt. "I'm not jealous!" he refutes. "Oh so you wouldn't care if Taehyung gave me his number?" "He did what?!?!" he says, swerving again when he goes to look at me. "If you're gonna keep doing this when I say the slightest thing then I'm gonna need you to pull over so I can drive" I say while holding onto the handle above the door.

"It's fine, I'm fine" he says and takes a deep breath, continuing on our drive and the car goes silent for a while.

"Did he really give you his number?" he mumbles, clearly still jealous. "No, but Hobi added me to the group chat" and he groans at the thought of it. "Great! Now I'm gonna have to pay more attention to what's going on in there" he whines and we continue on our journey laughing and teasing and singing and making fools out of ourselves the whole time.

I guess some people really are meant to be together. Who knew that that quiet little kid drawing with sidewalk chalk on the playground would be the answer to my forever...

The End... (lemme know if you guys want an epilogue hehe)

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colourstreakgryffin · 2 months

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Omg I love your platonic alastor writings!!

Can you do headcanons for alastor x daughter!reader where the reader is now in her teens and gets embarrassed when alastor still treats her like a little girl?

Haha! Alastor being that embarrassing dad who doesn’t want his princess to grow up be like— I definitely can, darling. Consider it done! Kinda short… but done!

Alastor- Old Habits, Never Die

God… Dad, please stop. You’re embarrassing me!

This is all you think. Being the daughter of the Radio Demon is pretty hard. As a little girl, you didn’t have to deal with much but now as a teenager, almost around eighteen, you have begun trying to befriend Sinners(with very little success) and the small amount of friends you manage to make with the much older sinners around you, it ends with them creeped out by your Dad

You want to lash out at Alastor for the way he treats you but you can’t really blame him. He just loves you but then again, you hate how he always babies and coddles you. You’re not seven years old anymore; you’re seventeen, you don’t want people thinking you’re some spoiled brat or a overly daddy’s little princess

You’re already universally feared for having traces of your father’s immense powers and as well as universally disliked by a big handful of sinner demons for being your father’s daughter. So, you’re pretty isolated as a whole and Alastor just makes it worse for you

Alastor isn’t aware that the way he acts is humiliating and degrading towards you. He just wants his babygirl to never grow up and he can’t just watch you go out shopping on your own and see you wear bigger clothing on your bigger body and not cry hysterically at seeing his beloved daughter grow up

Alastor just wants one more day of you as a little five year old again. Where you’d run up to him and cry about your nightmares, and he’d put you on his chest, sit down in a rocking chair and sing you back to sleep. He loved those days, he wants just one more. He misses his babygirl so young and little and childish

Alastor is that type of dad who wants to stay in touch with you and your friends so he tries to do the ‘cool stuff’ you younglings like, in hopes to bond with you further, he can’t bond with you over dolls and dress up. He’ll bond with you through the new things you like

Alastor, of course, won’t stop treating you like a little girl. He’ll talk baby-like, he’ll get you food, he’ll take your belongings to hold himself, he’ll hold your hand, he’ll do your hair up for you. He does everything for you and is so blind in his fatherly love for you, to realise how selfish his actions are and how careless he’s become, as a result of not wanting to lose you as a child

Overtime, this unintentionally harsh treatment begins to strain your relationship with Alastor and you grow less patient with him, establishing boundaries and ordering him to stop inserting himself into your life

He doesn’t take that kindly. Alastor is offended and angry that you’re annoyed with him. He is your father, he has every right to be apart of your life, social or literal and he begins to argue with you

You have to constantly lay down the truth that you’re not a little girl anymore and Alastor refuses to accept it as fact. He wants you to stay young and childish, and he won’t ever admit that he knows your time as a child is up and he doesn’t want to lose that little princess

But don’t worry, Alastor will soften up and try decrease this behaviour and treatment when he realises you’re avoiding him and he tries his best to stop treating you like a little girl… despite, all he sees when he looks at his teenage daughter is the little deer-featured child who ran to him when she was scared…

He’ll try his darnest stop it for his babygirl, even if he doesn’t want to. He just wants you happy more than anything

“Darling… look. Look, I get it. I’ve been acting rather… unfavourably towards you and I apologise, it’s just… hard to have watched you go from so little to so big… it’s… it kinda hurts”

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maple-pies · 2 months

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AFTG from a D1 perspective

As a D1 athlete from a sport where men and women practice and compete together (thought we are separate teams) here are my thoughts ;)

Whenever the Foxes travel and stay in hotels they have to share rooms (but if Wymack is going to drop the $$ for shower stalls they def don't have to share beds like my team does) but I wonder if they randomize the rooms?? lots of potential there...

(however, USC?? They're big enough that I can def seeing them have to share beds hahahaha)

training trip? do they go on training trip Nora I need to know! Lacrosse sometimes does, so maybe exy would idk... (they go to Florida or PR, Kevin gets hella burnt and Neil gets freckles end of story)

Lift?? They have to be lifting!! I know Aaron and Andrew are really into it and Nicky and Allison fight over the aux

there are days where everyone gets along (even people who hate each other) and there are days where everyones HATES each other (even the people who are best friends) it just happens

men are always puking during practice. Aaron personally gives me big barf boy energy (Nicky canonically yaks already lol)

periods. Having men and women practice together means the women don't GAF about talking about periods while the men stare at their shoes and pretend not to hear hahahha

Abby definitely gets pissed at Wymack and lift coach (they have to have one okay??) for working the foxes too hard, it's the trainer's job to get pissed at coaches okay

just NCAA violations in general. We have to do quizzes and shit to show we know the rules we can't break/rules the school and coach have to follow. (I could make a whole separate post about all the NCAA violations broken haha)

this is no way saying aftg is inaccurate, it just means they didn't ever get caught which checks out

speaking of which, whenever Aaron get's pissed he definitely is like "And we went over 20 hours last week!! I could just report them!!" to Katelyn and she calms him down

Interactions with other teams/greek life. I know there have to be some mixers/athlete events, if not the Foxes then the Trojans for sure.

complaining about dining hall food, I know Kevin's pissed about seed oils or lack of protein, something stupid like that

hookups within the team. okay the Foxes are small, but that just makes it more messy. the trojans have insane teamcest I just know it. (being coed means even more hookups than normal) . cute relationship sex, hate sex, random sex between people you would not believe (i def don't know this from first hand experience what....)

I'm so excited for TSC because we get so see how a "normal" Exy team behaves (I put normal in quotations bc ppl need to understand that D1 athletes, esp ones on a team as good as USC, are definitely not normal people ahahha)

this is definitely just part 1

#i have so much more to say #but heres this for now #aftg #all for the game #the palmetto foxes #tsc #the sunshine court #the foxhole court #neil josten #kevin day #andrew minyard #aaron minyard

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evertidings · 23 days

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— MARCH 2024.

accomplishments.

erm. hi. it's been a while, i know. i skipped last month's update, so i'll give you a lengthy one for march. truth be told, i haven't been able to touch when twilight strikes for a while. this is not because i don't want to, but mostly because i've been busy with school and/or have been struggling with writer's block. because of this, i made the decision to scrap what i had written for chapter eleven and start (kinda) from scratch. now, before you go and panic, let me explain.

the reason i've been taking so long on this chapter is that, well, i screwed up. i found a (rather large) plot hole that i've been trying to fix, and the solution i came up with was, uh, interesting. definitely not my greatest idea. but because i had already written so much, i kept pushing forward, hoping that things would straighten out and i'd miraculously like the chapter by the time i finished. haha, very funny. as you can tell, that didn't end up happening. i didn't particularly hate what i wrote, i could just tell that it was absolute bullshit. and while sometimes that works, it just was not doing it for me here. so i cut it.

i was able, however, to save a bunch of it for the new draft, so i didn't completely start over, but i am definitely down a lot of words compared to what i had written initially. i'm not super bummed out about it, but i am upset that that means i'm again behind on getting this out to you. i know it's been a while since i've published any updates and hearing that i've pushed things back is probably not very fun, but i promise, now that i've got my plot hole sorted out, things are going much smoother.

i'm currently in the thick of final exams so i haven't been able to write as much as i've wanted to lately, but the good news is that i'm graduating (WOOOOO!) so i won't have any more school work to distract me anymore. once mid-april hits, i'm free everybody.

(on that note, thank you for being so patient and sticking by me. i see new fans joining every day and it warms my heart that so many of you continue to enjoy this story. i appreciate you so much more than you know).

#update #when twilight strikes #the midnight hours #interactive fiction #twine game

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gojossocks · 2 months

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New Romantics

Gojo x reader 𐙚 Genre: fluff, comedy, hurt/comfort 𐙚 Summary: You are the bane of Gojo's existence, at least that's what he tells himself. You're just full of surprises and he can't help but be fully enamored by you. 𐙚 wc: 8.5k 𐙚 content: kinda enemies to kinda lovers, a bunch of high schoolers, gojo is soo out of touch with his feelings, it's in his pov, gojo is sooo down bad, PINING, badass reader, reader is in a clan too! reader smokes ! kinda screams im not like other girls in a less toxic way, jealous! gojo, heavy make out, very self-indulgent HAHA can be read as a standalone. 𐙚 a/n: my first ever series ! it's kinda long but i swear it's fun! :D

series masterlist | prologue

Arrogant. Insufferable. Patronizing. Apathetic.

The list goes on.

Granted, Gojo is nowhere near close to you. You were barely friends.

If there is one person in Jujutsu High that he likes the least, it would be you. It’s not like he resents you, it’s just that you represent everything he hated from being in a clan just like him.

From the way you strut your very expensive loafers to the way you shop to your heart’s content after every mission since your first year. Not to mention that you’re the all-perfect princess that your clan wants you to be.

“Gojo, please pass me the p-“

“No can do, shorty.” He chirps, giving you a shit-eating grin.

You glared at him before motioning Shoko to hand you the pen instead. “Gojo, you know you kinda look like someone I like.” You didn’t let him finish, crossing your arms before giving him a devilish smirk. “That cute little rat from Shrek.”

Gojo’s eyes widened at your insult but Suguru and Shoko were already snickering at him. He despises the idea that everyone seems to adore you, except him of course.

In the eyes of the higher ups and your family, you were the sweetest girl ever. Somehow, you’re always growing horns around him.

Everyone thinks that Gojo’s only messing with you whenever the two of you banter. Hell, there are some students gossiping that he has a crush on you (which he definitely doesn’t) But only Geto and Shoko know how much he actually dislikes you.

You seem so obedient with all your clans orders, following everything that’s asked of you, carrying the submissiveness and elegance a Y/L/N is supposed to have. And if there’s anything Gojo hated the most, it’s tradition. It’s why he’s in Jujutsu High in the first place, he wanted to change the system badly— and seeing you become the embodiment of the tradition he badly wants to change pisses him off.

Each time the higher ups get mad at him for not being in his ‘best behavior’, your name is constantly echoed around the meeting room. ‘You should be more like Y/L/N’ ‘Bring honor to your clan like how Y/L/N does.’

The only act of rebellion that you do is that your hair is dyed in a way that would make the higher ups frown. Your hair is recently dyed bright orange. He finds himself scoffing at the idea that you only get scolded because of a damn hair color. Gojo’s also confused with how cunning and sassy you are when there aren’t any prying eyes. Maybe you’re just doing that to seem cool.

Well, he just has to avoid you at all costs so you would stop annoying him and pestering his thoughts.

Unfortunately for him, Yaga has different plans.

“Satoru. Y/N.” Yaga announces when he was pairing up students for a mission but he doesn’t even get to finish because Gojo emits a loud dramatic groan from across the room.

“Why?” He whined, tilting his head up to create a dramatic effect. “It’s always been Suguru and I.”

“Satoru, you and Suguru need to be paired up with someone who's an expert in reversed curse technique. It’s your fault you haven’t learned it yet.”

Gojo crossed his arms and pouted. “Y/N can kiss my ass, teacher.”

“No thanks. I’m sure you don’t wash yours. I could smell you from afar, stinky.” Everyone else groaned as the two of you started another banter, forcing the meeting to be 5 minutes longer than usual— particularly because no one dares to cut off your argument (Yaga is too amused because of how much you put Gojo in his place.)

-.-

The mission didn’t go well. It was the first time you and Gojo worked together, and judging by your huge egos, your banter caused the both of you to get injured– you more so than Gojo. He was too reckless today, attempting to get a reaction out of you, which is why he got caught off guard when a 1st grade curse attacked him.

You pushed him out of the way, causing the curse to land a hit on your shoulder and right arm. Gojo stood still in his place in shock and your right arm was already injured when he snapped out of his trance. He obliterated the curse easily but the damage has been done.

You’re just lucky it was a minor injury but the fact that you did that for him, considering how you two were at each other’s necks for the longest time confuses him. It disoriented him until the both of you arrived at Jujutsu High.

When he got patched up, he stood up to apologize but you were nowhere to be found. He assumes you’ve already healed yourself due to your reverse curse technique ability but he can’t help the nagging feeling in his mind.

You were quiet today— well, ever since this afternoon. And no he’s not keeping track, he’s just not used to not hearing your snarky remarks and sarcastic comebacks at his attempts to annoy the shit out of you.

You’re just ignoring him, giving short insults in response to his own for the most part of your mission until you shielded him from that curse.

His guilt weighs on him heavily as he strolls around the school, waiting for Shoko and Geto. but really it’s just to see you. Gojo had noticed that you’re always gone the moment after your mission’s debriefing, sometimes even when you’re injured.

At last, he saw you just a few blocks away from Jujutsu High, towards the new 7/11 store that opened a few months ago. Gojo tilts his head to the side and furrows his eyebrows before deciding to follow you as discreetly as he could.

He stood near a house behind the convenience store where he could be hidden by a large plant beside it. He watched you grab a few things off the shelves and talk with the cashier, who happily greets you at the counter. You must’ve been here frequently.

1 can of coke. A box of cigarettes. Coffee.

Gojo never took you as the type who would visit a convenience store, as shocking as that sounds. He knows you’re rich. Filthy rich. You’ve always been pampered just like him, everything down at your feet because you’re the most powerful sorcerer in your clan.

Finally, you got out of the store. Gojo’s eyes widened like saucers when you went straight to his hiding spot.

“You know,” You called out, putting a hand on your hip. “It surprises me how much of an idiot you are despite being a notorious smartass. Your hair sticks out of the leaves because you’re so fucking tall, Gojo.”

“Heh.” He rubs his nape sheepishly, offering you a shy grin. “Didn’t think you’d see me.”

“Really?” You deadpan before walking away from him, back to Jujutsu High. He jogs up to your side. “Why are you hiding anyway? Spying on your rival or something?”

“Maybe.” He says lightly. It’s the first time any of you are talking normally to each other without malice. “Where are you going?”

“Somewhere.”

“Can I come?” He insisted, voice filled with excitement, leaving no hint that he’s gonna stop following you. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

He looks like a puppy, following you around. It’s an amusing sight, even to you.

“No.” You still kept walking, paying no mind as Gojo continued to follow you.

He feels an unusual giddiness at the thought that you hadn’t outright pushed him away because if you really wanted to, you would have told him to leave.

You lead him to the abandoned fence with the sign ‘DO NOT ENTER’ in the restricted building of the school that had remained under construction for years. It was the tallest building in Jujutsu High. You wordlessly went up to the concealed stairs at the obscured side of the building and onto the rooftop.

You sat at the edge of the building, your feet dangling off the edge. Gojo cautiously followed your actions, opting to sit next to you. He observes you as you unravel bit by bit and it’s the first time he’s seen you this relaxed and vulnerable—something that you granted him the privilege to see.

Rummaging through your paper bag, you retrieved a can of his favorite drink, Coca-Cola. As you handed it to him, a subtle surprise flashed across his face before he muttered a sincere ‘thanks.

You then opened your box of Marlboro red and lit up a cigarette, putting it in between your lips before taking a drag. Gojo observes you silently, his mouth agape. It was a revelation, discovering facets of you that he never anticipated. The act of you casually smoking, the ember casting a faint glow on your features, added another layer to the enigma that you are.

Gojo stays silent for a few more minutes or so until you notice his confusion, mainly because his eyebrows are almost meeting and he’s staring intently into the abyss.

“Are you broken or something? You usually never stop yapping.” You joked, bumping your shoulder to his.

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Gojo says dumbfoundedly.

You chuckled but his question was left unanswered. He forgets about it completely because his brain short circuits when you move closer to him, taking off his sunglasses and perching it atop his head. His radiant baby blue eyes are out staring at you intently.

You give him a soft smile and point at the view in front of you. “I love going here after missions, sunset’s beautiful here.”

“you’re being nice to me. Why?”

Again. No answer. You just hummed in amusement and no words were spoken afterwards.

The sun begins to descend, casting a warm, golden glow over the view from below. The city sprawls out beneath the both of you and the skyline extends into the horizon, bleeding in hues of pink and orange. Both of you sit in silence and when Gojo turns to look at you, he feels his heart beat quickening every passing second.

You look so breathtaking as the remaining sunlight kisses your skin, creating a halo effect around you. He suddenly doesn’t know why his palms feel so sweaty and he can’t manage to land a punchline to make you roll your eyes playfully at him.

“I’m sorry I got distracted. Thank you for saving me today. I didn’t know you’d be more…” He trails off and you cut him off with a laugh so pretty enough that his head whipped to turn to you.

“Kind? Human? You think I’m just like my clan huh?” You giggled and it shocked him how light you’re taking the situation.

You must’ve gotten used to it.

Just like him.

You stayed silent for a while before speaking in a serious tone. “Just because I don’t defy my clan’s ideals freely as you do doesn’t mean I’m not against it. When you’re a woman, you have to play nice, you know? I don’t have much of a choice unlike you. I know you don’t like me but I shielded you because you’re my friend.”

It was a wonder for Gojo that he’s the only one you’re not on good terms with out of everyone in Jujutsu High. Hell, he even overheard Yaga asking you to call back those Kyoto Students. It’s a big deal because those pesky Kyoto Students are usually their rivals but for some reason they’re always looking for you.

Then comes the Tokyo students, whom he never sees not greeting you or asking to hang out with you. Come to think of it, their expressions are always brightening up whenever you’re around and he thought that maybe they’re not that welcoming to him because he’s loud. But it’s you. It’s all you.

From the way you listen intently to your friends, and your saccharine voice asking them about their day or whatever that piques their interest. You care, a lot. You even saved him from that grade 1 curse, resulting in a painful wound on your shoulder. Granted, you had the ability to heal yourself but who was he even in your life? and yet you took the fall for him.

Gojo always hated that everyone seemed to look at him as that ‘six-eyed kid from the Gojo clan’. He hated the rumors about him just because of your last name— something that he has done to you since the first time you stepped foot into the school.

He swallows his guilt and sets his pride aside. He wanted nothing more than to make it up to you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ve read you wrong. I thought you were just like the rest of them.”

“It’s alright.” You say nonchalantly as possible but the voice crack at the end gives you away. Gojo chooses to ignore that. This probably means a lot to you as much as it did to him. “I mean I get it, I actually admire your passion for changing the way our clans lead the Jujutsu World. I think you have the guts for standing up to them just like that.”

“You really think so?’ He scoots closer and gives you a small smile, his heartbeat quickening faster as he feels your warmth— your thighs almost touching.

“Yeah.” You grinned back, leaning your wait to his side before taking a sip from your coffee.

“So you think I’m pretty?” He looks at you and bats his eyelashes comedically.

You snorted in response and slapped his arm lightly. “I’ll throw you off this building.”

Gojo forgot the passage of time in those 4 hours at that rooftop. The sun had already set and the moon was gleaming, already dark out. He likes talking to you but he enjoys it more when you’re the one doing the talking.

You talked about your school life, hobbies, even your life with your clan– anything that comes to mind. Talking to you is as easy as breathing. You’re just full of wisdom, kindness, and wit.

Gojo found out today that he actually likes making you laugh, something about it makes his stomach feel funny. He also found out your preferences in coffee, food, and even music.

“Don’t you dare tell that spot to anyone, Gojo.” You took one of the sweets in his hands and popped it in your mouth before giving him a teasing grin.

You’re now walking side by side on the way to the dormitory. He insisted on walking you to your dorm even if his dorm is from the other side of the building.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he matched your stride. “Yes, Ma’am.” He replied with a teasing voice, earning a hum of approval from you. You finally stopped in front of your door.

“Thank you Goj-”

“Satoru.” He cut you off, his voice suddenly softening. As you tilted your head inquisitively, he found himself breaking into another warm smile. His cheeks ached from smiling too much this evening. “You can call me Satoru instead.”

“I like saying Gojo, especially when I yell your name when I’m mad at you.”

“Are you mad at me right now?” He wiggles his eyebrows, earning a playful roll of your eyes in response.

“No.”

His demeanor shifted then, almost like he’s surrendering his vulnerability to you. “Then call me Satoru.” You could almost hear the plea in his voice.

You sigh in mock defeat, your lips curved into a smile as you relented to his request. “Okay, Satoru.”

-.-

“You’re barely hanging out with me anymore, Satoru. Have you found my replacement already?” Suguru says, smirking as he watches his best friend’s eyes widened— a blush adorning Satoru's cheeks.

Satoru fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, causing Suguru to smirk at him. This behavior definitely did not go unnoticed by his best friend. Rarely did Satoru ever get nervous and Suguru was all for it.

“I was just busy, Suguru. You missed me that much? I didn’t know I am participating in a homosexual relationship with you—” He retorted, attempting to deflect Suguru.

But Suguru wasn’t one to let him off the hook easily. “Busy hogging Y/N?”

Satoru scoffed, giving him a look of disbelief. “Pffft. Nah. Of course not. We’re friends!” He insisted, though the way his gaze momentarily flickered away betrayed a hint of something more.

It has been nearly 6 months since that evening on the rooftop. Satoru and you have been attached to the hip ever since— or to phrase it better, Satoru has been attached to you ever since. Somehow, you’re a lot more similar than he thinks and because of that, you just know each other a lot deeper.

He also finds himself doing things out of pure interest like walking with you to the 7/11 store after mission just to talk to you til dusk on that rooftop, completely forgetting about his friend group’s game nights. Other times, he reaches for your wrist to encourage you to mingle with other people. He even accompanies you to your monthly shopping sprees in the city or in Shinjuku or Shibuya. He found out you love traveling and going to other places— it clears your mind, you had said. His closet is now full of clothes you helped him pick out, almost half of them you bought for him randomly.

It’s normal for friends to do that, right?

Seated side by side, Satoru and Suguru observed how you and Shoko practiced your reverse cursed technique. Satoru’s just munching on the sweets you bought for him while his best friend is clearly enjoying the view of how dumbstruck he is by you.

“Satoru,” he began. “You’re always following her around, it’s like you’re glued to each other already and you even fell asleep together during movie nights more than 3 times already. The only time you’re not with her is when you’re on missions with me or lunch. Are you already secretly dating?”

“Yeah, we’re not!” Satoru says swiftly and defensively, causing Suguru to raise an eyebrow at him. “Why are you keeping count anyway?”

“Sure, just friends.” Suguru insisted, attempting to downplay the whole situation but Satoru is already growing agitated with the way he’s being teased. Suguru gave him a devilish smirk. “What if she dates another guy?”

Satoru shuts up for a minute before muttering a quiet “… She won’t.”

“You don’t sound sure. She eventually will.” Suguru gave him an all-knowing smile and that’s when he knew that Suguru was being serious.

“Huh?” Satoru furrowed his eyebrows, casting an accusing look at his best friend. “How are you so sure?”

“Shoko said she’s going on dates.”

Oh.

So that’s why he’s been seeing you less, and you seem so distracted whenever you guys would hang out. Satoru thought that you were just busy but he didn’t think you’d actually go on dates with anyone. I mean, you’re still young right? Besides, who would be deserving of you?

Satoru didn’t notice that he was staring daggers into Shoko as you hugged her tightly. His expression darkened, jealousy flashing in his eyes before softening as he heard you laugh.

Pretty.

You look so pretty.

Since when did he find you incredibly pretty?

Sure, you were just friends but he doesn’t know why he has this urge to be with you all the time, he even wants to hug you like how you hug Shoko and Utahime. It’s just unfair that you only lean to him or give him a fist bump or when you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He longs to hold you close, to see you every morning, and to be the person that makes you laugh all the time.

And when you noticed him staring you beamed at him and waved.

Oh, he definitely has a crush on his friend.

He didn’t know how much time passed but soon enough his day wouldn’t be completed without seeing you. He actually looks forward now to the meeting with different plans, particularly because you were there with him. And he basically lives now in your dorm room, candy wrappers everywhere and an array of his glasses sit beside your bedside table.

You talk about anything, even the random thoughts that come to his mind. You managed to know him better than Suguru knows him, which is surprising by the way.

But during the past week, he surprisingly didn’t see you— not even at the rooftop that you both had grown to hang out together. Suguru told him that he acts like he has a ‘stick up his ass’ but he was just worried about you. Have you grown tired of him? It all made him fidget like crazy.

Satoru caught a glimpse of your bright blue hair after your mission with Suguru. It was the kind of blue that matches his eyes. But he didn’t pay attention to it that much because of your sullen look.

He tried looking for you at the convenience store or your dorm but you were already gone so his last bet is at the rooftop, and there you are.

Your back is facing him with your feet dangling off the edge, you seem to be in your own world judging by the loud music he’s hearing. There are two packs of cigarettes by your side and a can of your favorite coffee. The sun is almost setting again and you’re just staring ahead while you hum along to the song you're listening to. The view seems so… sad. He felt something tug at his heart strings.

“You know you should quit smoking. if you keep it, you’ll never see me old handsome.” He tried to joke off before climbing the edge to sit next to you. He took off his glasses before wincing at the view, it was too bright so he decided to put it on again.

You giggled in response, he can tell that you saw right through him when you had a soft look in your face. The both of you hadn’t quite reached the stage where you’re entirely comfortable with opening up to one another.

So he tried to lighten up the mood once more, “It actually diminishes your ability as a sorcerer.”

“Says who?”

“Says yoda” He responded rhetorically before giving you a lopsided grin.

You nodded before taking out your lighter to light up your cigarette. “I only smoke when I’m stressed.” You confessed.

“Oh?” Satoru asks

“Yeah” You smiled at him, taking a drag from your cigarette, sighing when the nicotine hit your system.

“Then we’ll do something else, yeah?” He grinned at you mischievously before pointing his index. “Wait.”

With a quick rummage through his pockets, he brought out a handful of brightly colored lollipops, their wrappers crinkling softly in his hand.

“What do you have in mind?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

Satoru extended his hand, offering you a lollipop with a playful wink. “Something sweeter?”

He gives you a toothy grin—his eyes sparkling when you take it, shaking your head at his enthusiasm.

“This is ridiculous,” You laughed, amused by his antics as you unwrapped the sweet treat and popped it into your mouth.

“It works, right?” Satoru asked eagerly.

He’s been searching for alternative ways for nicotine but he couldn’t find any gum in the 7/11 store. Lollipops are his last choice.

“I don’t know. Isn’t it gum that lessens the nic addiction?” You countered, bumping your shoulder against his.

“Lollipops are an alternative,” He says defensively, though a hint of concern crept up to his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, uhm. It just gets tiring sometimes, you know?” You responded, bitterness lacing your voice. “ All the pressure. Sometimes I feel like I’m not treated humanely at one point.”

“Hey. I’ll help you okay?” He placed a hand on your shoulder before offering you a soft smile. “When you’re with me, you don’t have to please those old geezers.”

“I appreciate it, Satoru.” You smiled back at him and he found himself melting in your gaze. The sun be damned, he could live alone in your presence.

You decided to leave when it’s already half past eight. Once he helped you to his feet you looked at him shyly, and if it’s a bit lighter out he would see a blush creeping up to your face. The walk back to your dorm is silent again, your hands just occasionally brush and Satoru wondered if you think about holding his hand too.

So when you let him in your dorm like you usually do. Satoru hesitated for a moment before he mustered up the courage and asked, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

He noticed you freeze and he feared that he might have overstepped, but before he could retract his words, you’re already nodding and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you. Satoru hears you sigh in the hug and he feels like he’s floating when you tug him closer.

Satoru prayed silently that you couldn’t hear the loud thumping of his heart because he finally has you in his arms and this is all he wanted. The warmth of your body against his, the way you leaned into his touch, it all felt surreal to him.

You’ve finally let your guard down around him and he noticed you gradually open up to him when you’re feeling sad or disappointed with something. Somehow he can’t bring himself to be like that to you yet, Satoru has this underlying feeling that you’d like him less if he starts showing vulnerability.

But to his surprise, he feels like you like him more because of that. There was this instance where he’s so overstimulated after a mission because he had to take off his glasses to work on his six eyes. He started to become dizzy and everything around him was a blur.

As he sat on the couch, feeling utterly overwhelmed and disoriented after the mission. Despite his attempts to mask his discomfort with a feeble smile, you saw right through him, as you always seemed to do.

“Satoru, are you okay?” Your voice cut through the haze of his senses, casting him a worried glance.

He managed a strained smile before the brightness around him intensified, sending a sharp pang through his temples. "I'm...I'm fine," he mumbled.

“Satoru, you’re not a good liar.” You stood up to turn off the lights, only leaving the night lamp on, a soft glow illuminating the entire room, making it bearable for Satoru. He’s rubbing his temples, trying to ease the pain.

He feels a weight dip in the couch, you gently remove his glasses and place them on the nearby table. Then, without warning, your arms enveloped him in a warm embrace, guiding his head to rest against the crook of your neck, fully covering his eyes.

Now that he’s calmed down, Satoru became acutely aware of the closeness between you. He’s lucky that you can’t see how his eyes widened at your action and how flushed he probably looks right now. Well, not that he can see anything right now.

But he chooses to ignore the loud beating of his heart again, passing it off as adrenaline rush from the mission. He allows himself to relax in your hold, with your fingers threading softly through his hair, all his worries and fatigue melted away.

Gojo Satoru had never known romantic love, let alone had a crush on anyone. So maybe it was just normal for friends to hold each other when one is tired or in need of comfort.

He loves to play with your hand when both of you are alone, while he babbles about something random and outright weird just so he could ignore how you make him feel. He tries to ignore the blush creeping up on his face when you listen to him intently, like every word that he utters matters, no matter how ridiculous it was. His feet always drag him to you because after a long day, all he needs is cuddles from you— oh, and your soothing voice too.

So really, what is this weight on his chest when Shoko announced that you’re going on a date?

Why is he pouting suddenly, assaulting his food as he stabs it continuously while you are gushing about what to wear or what to say when he knows you just look so beautiful even without trying?

Isn’t he enough?

Satoru buys you stuff, he takes care of you, he knows everything about you. He’s always hanging at your dorm after school, you’re practically like a couple at this poi–

Shit.

Maybe he does have a crush on you.

“I don’t know why you’d bother going on a date, Y/N. Guys are basically disgusting.”

“Says a guy.” You rolled your eyes playfully while going through your closet.

Satoru’s getting desperate now, why are you so adamant to get on that date?

Satoru felt a knot of desperation tightening in his chest as he watched you model your top three dresses. The first dress, adorned with vibrant florals, seemed to scream "first date" with its playful charm. However, you quickly dismissed it as unsuitable for the dinner date you had planned. Next, you slipped into a simple yet elegant black bodycon dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. It was hard to ignore the bitterness he’s feeling— you getting dolled up for a random guy.

But it was the final dress that truly captured his heart. As you twirled around to show him, the white silk fabric cascading gracefully around you, Satoru found himself momentarily breathless at the sight. Your awkward smile only added to the enchantment of the moment. You look so ethereal.

"What do you think?" you asked, swaying gently as you admired yourself in the mirror.

"I—" Satoru cleared his throat, his voice suddenly dry as he struggled to find the right words. "I think I like the other one better, the black one," he managed to say, though his heart whispered otherwise.

You somehow listened to his advice and wore the black bodycon dress that he suggested.

You looked nothing short of breathtaking, a literal goddess.

It was the longest 3 hours of his life, each passing minute feeling like an eternity as he anxiously wait for your return. Despite his best effort to distract himself by distracting Suguru, his thoughts kept returninhg to you— wondering if you’re having the time of your life with your date.

A small part of him wishes that the date didn’t go well and you’ll just spent the rest of the evening eating sweets with him all the while casting funny remarks on your date but he wasn’t prepared when you came home with mascara running down your face, your lips curved into a pout, and your eyes puffy and red from crying.

Without a word, Satoru stood up to engulf you in his arms, furrowing his eyebrows as you collapsed into him. “What happened, Y/N?”

He held you close, a surge of protectiveness flooding his senses as if an attempt to shield you from the world.

“He’s a misogynist, Satoru!” You cried, your voice cracking. “So full of himself! I thought he was kind and sweet but then he just started babbling about his clan and how good of a potential husband he is. As if I want to marry him!”

“Who was he anyway?” He gently wiped away your tears.

“Naoya Zenin” You sniffled, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I’m sorry I’m staining your shirt.”

“No, no.” He whispered, brushing away the strands of your hair on your face.

He took a mental note to research on the guy that made you cry later on. He realizes that the sight that he despises the most is the sight of you crying. He never wants to see you like this, ever.

“You said you like the beach right?” Satoru spoke out of the blue, his hand tracing circles on your arm. “Why don’t we go to one?”

-.-

And that’s how Satoru managed to spend all of his monthly allowance in a week. He booked a flight for the 6 of you (of course he wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea, he insisted it’s a vacation for the six of you— him, you, Suguru, Shoko, and even Utahime and Mei Mei because apparently you’re good friends with them too)

So now here he is, about 200, 000 yen poorer. (help i don’t know if this is accurate) He wanted what’s best for you, so of course he’d spend a lot for you. It was all worth it though, when he sees you in a baby blue bathing suit that he helped you pick out. No it was definitely not because it’s similar to the color of his eyes. Blue just suits you well. (Hence, he’s also suitable for you)

“Satoru, you're going to catch flies if your mouth keeps hanging like that. Hey, are you also drooling?” Suguru pokes Satoru, who quickly straightens up when you look his way.

You gave him a sheepish smile, and he didn’t know what the fuck you’re doing to him because he feels a hard on coming his way. Shoko notices Satoru’s flushed expression but she just continues to smoke, clearly enjoying the show.

Eventually, everyone agrees to swim in the beach and try on the jet skis that Satoru had rented. What he didn’t know though, was the fact that you’re afraid of the ocean.

You were just hugging yourself while the waves crashed against your feet. The sight looks so cute but he wants you to enjoy it, so he uses his tactics to get you to join the group.

Unfortunately for him, you’re so stubborn to stay on the shore.

“I don’t want to go, Satoru! It’s not funny! I might get eaten alive by megalodon sharks or something.”

“C’mon! I’m really tall, I can protect you! Jesus, here—” His hand intertwined with yours, causing you to blush profusely. “Just hold my hand, okay? Hell, hold onto me if you like. I can carry you!”

“Your hands are uhm, really warm.” You commented, your voice tinged with embrassment.

“Oh yeah?” He smirks at you, his gaze locking with yours. “You want me to warm you up?”

“I’m gonna kill you.” You deadpanned.

Despite your protests, you ended up trusting him to pull you in the deeper part of the ocean. He even managed to get you to ride the jetski with him, the grip you had on his waist nearly suffocating him.

Satoru didn’t want to focus on the closeness between you two— your body pressed up against his back. If he does, he might lose control and drop the both of you into the ocean.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group is observing the two of you while sipping on their Margaritas.

“God, these two.” Mei Mei muttered as she rolls her eyes. “Best slow burn romance I’ve ever seen for free.”

If anyone would glance at you and Satoru, they would immediately think you’re dating, but you’re not and it’s frustrating to anyone within your radius.

Besides her, Shoko chimed in, her voice laced with amusement. “It’s so painfully obvious that they like each other. They were comparing hand sizes earlier for god’s sake.”

“Yeah, they should just fuck already.”

-.-

“Okay, so you kiss the person the bottle’s pointing at.” Utahime explained excitedly, albeit a bit drunk.

Everyone’s gathering around the crackling bonfire bonfire, the warm glow casting dancing shadows across the sand. It was now nearing midnight and you decided to play a game to end the night, which is spin the bottle. You spent all afternoon swimming and riding the jet skis Satoru rented.

Satoru felt a bead of sweat form on his brow as the bottle nearly lands you and Suguru.

He wanted your first kiss to be with him, as selfish as that sounds. He internally cursed Shoko for suggesting this game.

It landed on Shoko and Utahime, then Shoko and Suguru, then Mei Mei and Utahime.

His nervousness escalated as the game continues. Satoru was busy praying that the bottle wouldn’t land on you and anyone that he failed to notice when the bottle finally came to a stop, pointing directly at you and him.

“Ooooh” Utahime teased you, playfully poking your arm. “It’s you and Gojo!”

You laughed nervously, shooting a helpless glance in Satoru’s direction. He wanted to protest but his curiosity outweighed his embarrassment.

He wanted to know how it feels like to kiss you.

Besides, it’s just a kiss, right?

Satoru was stunned when you hurriedly pecked him on the lips before you retreated back to your seat. His mind raced as he tries to process the fleeting touch.

He just kissed you.

He couldn’t believe it when you looked back at him with a subtle smile playing in your lips.

The rest of the night was a blur for him, not because he was drunk. Satoru’s a lightweight and you know that fact, that’s why you were drinking for him.

While everyone else is playing games and talking about anything, his mind is still stuck on the fact that you kissed him

You’re his first kiss.

And he's yours too,

The gods had answered his prayers. But that was barely a kiss in the first place, do you even want it or were you just pressured to do it?

The thought stings. So he took a couple of sips from Suguru’s beer bottle until he was tipsy enough to not think about your lips on his. Yet, with each glance in your direction, the memory of your lips on his persisted.

-.-

Satoru helped you go to your room, even if he’s a bit drunk himself. Both of you were stumbling on the way to your room, but he thankfully he managed to settle you down on the bed as gently as he could. His attempt to withdraw was no use as you pulled him down with you, your grip firm yet gentle as you clutched his hand in your sleep.

Satoru admired your sleeping state, your hair sprawled out messily on the bed and you’re gripping his hand.

Your mouth slightly open as you slept, emitting soft rhythmic breaths but then you started mumbling something—it first it was incoherent until you mumbled in a slur, “I think you’re cute.”

“Huh?” Satoru questioned, even though he heard you clearly. He just want to hear it again from you.

“I said I think you look like a sack of shit. Fuck you.” You clarified, your words still slightly intelligible and laced with frustration and humor.

“Uh-huh.” He replied, feigning ignorance, his heart fluttering at your words. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Satoru brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering momentarily against your skin.

“You know,” You started, your words slurring as you looked at him with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my first kiss. It was really good even if it just lasted a second. Thank you for today, toru.”

He laughed at your intoxicated state. You just look so adorable when you’re relaxed like this, the way your features softened and your laughter bubble up freely without a care in the world.

His gaze drifted to your lips, they seemed to beckon him to give in. He definitely wants to kiss you now.

Satoru’s heart raced as he struggled to fight the urge to lean in, knowing that it was a dangerous game to play. You decided to take matters in your own hands, shifting closer to him, your face close enough that he could feel you breathe against him.

“Please, ‘Toru.” You whispered, your lips barely touching. “Please kiss me again.”

Who was he to deny you that? To deny you?

When Satoru kissed you for the second time, he took his time to savor it. His hand reaches out to cup your cheek and brushes his lips against yours.

Your lips are warm and soft, he wanted to kiss it for eternity. Literally. He feels like in cloud nine as he kisses you deeper, slipping his tongue inside as you parted your lips, earning a soft moan from you.

Satoru weight settled against you, your bodies pressed together, breathing heavily as he connected his lips against yours once more.

You taste better than any candy he has ever tasted. He might just get addicted, drunk even.

“We shouldn’t—” He sighs into your mouth. You whimpered when he pulled away, your sweet voice going straight through his dick. “I don’t want to do this like this.”

“What” a kiss. “Do” followed by another, “You,” then another “Mean?” then another.

You were peppering kisses all over his face all the while carding your hand through his hair, tugging it a bit to earn a reaction from him. He almost lost it when you squeezed him through his boxers.

Satoru managed to pull away which he clearly struggled on doing when you pout at him, lips swollen and covered with saliva and you’re looking at him with those damned doe eyes.

He pecks your lips, both of your cheeks, and he places a final kiss on your forehead, afraid that if he does more, he won’t be able to contain himself.

Satoru wants his first time with you to be special, one that’s not hazy and easy to forget. He doesn’t want it to be a mistake, like what he knows the both of you would agree upon if you talked about it in the morning.

He wanted you to remember, have it engraved in your mind and body for weeks. Satoru wants you to want him as much as he wants you, and he can’t have that in a drunken mistake.

As you both drifted together in your sleep, he held you close, his arms wrapping snugly around your waist. It was the best sleep he had in ages.

-.-

Satoru’s fear came true when you pretended like nothing happened the next morning. When he awoke, it feels like last night never happened. Your side of the bed is fixed and the only proof that you were ver there was the ache he felt on his arm, where you were laying. Sure, he was disappointed but he’s contented with anything you give him. As long as he has you by his side.

The kiss never left his mind, though.

Not even when you reached third year and you drifted apart from him little by little. His feelings for you remains the same.

When Satoru is paired up again with you for a mission in the second half of your third year, you seem different from the Y/N he remembers. Particularly because you act like the exact person that he met in your first year.

Only, you look dull.

There are heavy circles under your eyes, your lips are chapped, and you look like you’re barely holding it together. Not to mention the only words that you utter to him are only about the mission.

He got too busy honing his skills with Suguru, but he would make time for you if only you asked. But it’s like you were gone, everytime he tried to look for you, you were nowhere to be found. It’s like he barely knows you anymore.

You started to ignore him at the beginning of the school year. He noticed that you dyed your hair back to its natural color and whenever he goes.

You became a ghost in a way, and he’s left with the pieces of you that you once had shared with him. Satoru desperately wants to reach you but how can he when you’re always away? He doesn’t see you in your meeting spot anymore, you’re not in your dorm, no one gets close to you. The only time he sees you is during meetings with the higher ups and your clan.

There’s an ache in his heart that only you can heal.

So before you can run away from him again, he followed your footsteps until you reached the 7/11 store across the street. So here you are scanning along the shelves of the store, even though he knows you already know what you’re going to buy. You still haven’t noticed him, which is confusing on his part. You must’ve been so tired.

Ah, an energy drink and a box of cigarettes.

Well, maybe you’ve started avoiding him too because of that. You know he’s going to get worried.

Satoru taps your shoulder, making you yelp. You were about to shout at him but your expression softened when you saw him. “Oh, it’s just you.”

It’s the first time in months where he actually saw you up close. He misses you so much it actually makes him dizzy. Satoru stares at you for a few minutes before you poked him.

“Hello? Earth to Satoru?”

He hasn’t heard you say his name too in a while. It felt like a breath of fresh air

“You dyed your hair back to its natural color.” He pointed out.

You hummed in response before going to the drink section once more. He observes you skimming the shelves even though he knows what you’re going to buy.

You’re just passing the time because you’re too anxious to talk to him but you aren’t really good at small talks.

So he does that for you.

As you mechanically scanned the shelves, your eyes not really registering the array of products before you, Satoru noticed the evident anxiety in your every move. Wanting to bridge the gap between you two, he seized the opportunity to make you smile.

“ah yes, there’s some items on sale here.” He declared, rubbing his chin with his pointer and thumb comically.

Your quizzical expression met his as you questioned, “I don’t see any.”

Undeterred, Satoru held up a familiar item – your favorite coffee – and flashed a grin "Here," he insisted, pointing at the non-existent 'sale' label.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's on sale. Look. It says, 'buy one take me.'" He gestured to the imaginary tag with a theatrical flair, his infectious grin inviting you to roll your eyes at him.

Finally, you gave him a smile and you threw your head back because you’re laughing so hard. “You’re ridiculous, Gojo Satoru.”

Satoru's heart skipped a beat at the sight of your smile, a warmth spreading through him at the sight of your genuine laughter. He likes seeing you smile. He’d do anything to see you smile. Even if it’s making a fool out of himself.

You grabbed his favorite drink and 2 onigiris then you dropped your energy drink. You walked towards the counter with him following closely behind.

After you’ve paid for the food, you led him wordlessly to the back of the convenience store towards the small parking lot and you sat on the ground.

“Besides, I can’t take you.” You broke the silence, handing him his coca-cola with a tremulous smile.

“What do you mean? You’ve already taken me for granted.” Satoru attempts to joke, but his playful expression dropped when you gave him a sad smile.

“I’m getting married next year after graduation.”

Satoru suddenly felt as if the ground had dropped from beneath him. The news struck him like a blow to the chest, leaving him breathless. He chewed on his lip as he took in your confession.

So that’s why you’ve been busy.

That’s why the higher ups paid no mind to all of his minor mishaps. His heart and mind raced, why so soon? Are you really going to let them take away your right to decide who you’ll marry?

“To who?” He said quietly, fidgeting with the lid of his soda.

“Naoya Zenin.”

A wave of disbelief washed over Satoru’s face. He had only met the guy once but he knows that Zenin is an absolute prick, not to mention a misogynist and a weakling. He even made you cry on a date. But he tried to relax his jaw and stay composed for you. “Do you want to marry him?”

“No.” Your answer was swift, the word laden with a weight he could feel in his bones.

“Then don’t.” Satoru says firmly. Both of you fell silent for a while, you being defeated with the destiny your clan have paved for you.

Could he really let you go just like that? To a Zenin asshat nonetheless?

He had always imagined that the two of you would eventually end up together, you have all the time in the world after all. So why does it feel like you’re already slipping out of his arms? He’s not even sure if you like him, despite what Suguru and Ieri keep telling him.

His train of thoughts were interrupted when you leaned your head on his shoulder. His arm instinctively finds its way around you, as if shielding you from your clan, from the world. “I wish it were that simple. Nearly everything I do for my family is never what I want. I simply can’t not do it, Satoru. I need it to keep my clan powerful and relevant. I’m the only daughter of my parents. I have to do my best to make them proud.”

“Well…” He stammers a little bit when your hand finds a way to play with his hair. “what about what you want?”

“Satoru, you know my freedom is limited." You laughed bitterly. “I’m still Y/L/N’s golden child and my clan’s on the brink of exclusion at this point. We’re irrelevant now and I’m not getting any stronger or richer. My family wants to take their place in the Jujutsu World. This is something I can’t escape from anymore even if I’d rather die than to be married to someone like him.”

“Why Naoya Zenin though?” He’s getting frustrated at this point. Why were you not fighting back? Satoru couldn’t accept that, you relinquishing your freedom for the sake of others. You have already done so much.

“He’s from a well-off clan and he’s strong.” you replied, a note of bitterness tainting your words. “My dad’s also biased with the Zenin clan so… I’m all set.”

Well, he’s a Gojo and he is the strongest. He is the inheritor of the six eyes anyway. Who is Naoya Zenin compared to him?

“Well then, can you marry someone else that’s also strong?”

You scoffed, your hand leaving his hair before you prompt to fully lean your entire weight on Satoru’s side. “Yeah, but I don’t have much of a choice in the matter. Who else would I mar-”

It’s now or never.

“Me.” Satoru blurted out.

“What?”

“Me. you should just marry me instead.”

Wanna read more?

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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

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Hi!!! I love your Get Off My Screen series so much! I was wondering if I could do a request for that?

Basically the idea is that Vox and the reader are just texting at night maybe and he lets something slip about something he misses from his old life on earth and because of that the reader remembers that the person they’ve been talking to for like over a year by now probably used to be alive and just spends the whole night learning everything they can about vox when he was alive (I imagine this would happen whilst vox was asleep and we’re just googling him) and then maybe I feel like we’d also google Alastor as a joke to see what all the fuss is about and then we find out that the person vox is ~~crushing~~ hating on is a serial killer and then just telling everything we learned when he wakes up.

Sorry if that’s really long I just fell like this is 100% what I would do in this situation

Old Times Gone By

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: I'm so glad you guys are requesting scenarios within the series, heck- I'm glad y'all enjoy it this much already hahaha! This is somewhat of an aftermath to the "You Could Do Better(With Me)" which is why it's not as cheery as the other chapters- but it's definitely not straight up angst. Just vulnerability and late night chatting between friends. Haha "friends"- And as always, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and happy reading!

A/N: Again, I kind of deviated from the prompt a little to better fit the narrative but Reader does know about Alastor and who he is because of Vox's ranting. They're aware that her demonic crush has a weird obsession with a cannibalistic radio serial killer deer dude and it's still not the weirdest thing he's done so far HAHAHAHA

If there was one thing Vox had to say he hated about drinking-

It had to be dealing with the hellish hangovers come morning.

Especially when he'd been wasted the night before.

A sharp jab in his side caused him to wake up this time.

He grunted, nearly falling off his chair when he shifted ever so slightly.

Huh-

Wait, why was he in here???

He could feel the migraine start to pound in his head.

Vox wasn't looking forward to today already.

When he tried to stand up, a clink of a bottle made him look down by his feet.

Picking it up to give the darn thing a once over, he scoffed.

He must have been absolutely hammered to have finished this yesterday.

It was a brand he despised the taste of too.

"Vox-? Oh, you're up."

His head whipped around so quickly once he heard your voice.

When had he even connected to your TV?

Not that he complained, he managed to see you sat up on the couch and stretching.

Your hair stuck up in odd positions and you even looked to be half-awake.

Why was that fucking cute???

"I- mhm. I guess I am. Was I... drinking yesterday?"

"I don't really know, I just knew you were drunk out of your mind last night. I can only see your face remember?"

"Ah... right."

Vox couldn't really bring himself to say much this time, not while he was still trying to grab the bits and pieces of his memory on yesterday's events.

Did he really wander into the monitor room just because he missed you?

That was low, even for him.

"Good morning anyhow, not that I think it would be if you're dealing with a hangover."

Vox just chuckled, watching you get up and disappear from the TV's view.

He wasn't in any mood to work at all, especially when he had a shitty headache to deal with too.

Eh, his empire could last a day without him.

He notified his secretary to just cancel all his duties and appointments for today, just ignoring their panic as you returned back into view.

"What are you holding?"

"Coffee."

"I thought you said you hated coffee?"

"Not hate, I just don't prefer it. But I need the caffeine to function today and I'd rather drink this bean juice than those energy drinks."

Vox wouldn't admit it, but talking to you again was already starting to make him feel a little better.

Especially after your noticeable absence.

He'd rather die again that outright say he missed you, his pride wouldn't allow it.

Cracking his joints, he just watched you sleepily stare up at him from where you sat on the couch.

Granted, it was probably because your TV was probably perched higher or on a shelf.

But Vox still thought you were kind of short.

Not that he had the right to say anything-

He was a 7ft tall giant compared to you.

"Again with the bean juice thing, and what's wrong with energy drinks?"

"They taste like straight up chemicals."

Vox just gave you a weird look when you rolled your eyes at him.

Still you just kept talking to him inbetween taking sips of your hot beverage.

"I'm not surprised you enjoy them, but your palate is probably shit."

"Oh you do not wanna go there-"

"What if I do huh? Watcha gonna do about it?"

Vox just grinned, you getting up to move closer to the screen as you challenged him.

The wide mischievous grin on your face mirrored his own and you both quickly devolved into just either bragging about exotic foods you've eaten-

Or straight up going for the jugular about each other.

"You eat McDonald's daily? I can't believe you'd feed yourself garbage Vox-"

"It's not garbage, and don't act like you've never eaten fast food."

"You are what you eat, I guess!"

"Ohoho! You bitch!"

Vox didn't seem to mind the numbing headache he felt when you were back to being your animated rambunctious self.

He wondered if it was because of the caffeine that made you all hyped up but he couldn't really bring himself to give a shit.

Not when he was still pretty tired.

It seems you noticed his retorts weren't making their usual mark though, and you crossed your arms over your chest while leaning towards the TV screen.

Vox just narrowed his eyes at you in confusion, what were you doing?

"You my good sir, need a hot cup of coffee more than I do. And freshen up while you're at it, I need to go take a shower too anyways."

You-

You did not just do what he think you did.

Were you actually mothering him??

Vox just rolled his eyes at your words, not really intending to go until he realized you weren't budging an inch either.

"Didn't you just say you needed to go clean up?"

"Not leaving till you are."

"Stubborn much?"

"Not that different from you, no."

The tech overlord laughed at your insistence, eventually relenting and disconnecting himself from your devices.

He stretched again when he got up from his chair, picking up the empty alcohol bottle near his feet not intending to clutter up or dirty his workspace.

Vox perked up when his phone buzzed though.

The darn thing catching his attention before he forgot it was there.

He checked on it with his free hand, chuckling when he realized it was just a message from you.

"Go and freshen yourself up, get a cup of coffee too while you're at it. I'll be back soon, kisses!"

You almost caused him to break his phone from the grip he had on it.

Kisses???

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?!

Vox seriously stood there staring at his phone for a good ten minutes just buffering and rebooting-

Dude is actually broken the second you do literally anything with vaguely romantic undertones.

Still he stomps all over his own hopes and feelings in fear of misinterpreting your friendliness.

Yeah, both of you were fucking clueless.

You stayed true to your word and did eventually come back after you'd cleaned yourself up.

Vox had just been waiting on your TV again and the screen brightened slightly upon noticing you.

It was a subconscious reaction, don't bring it up or he'll definitely throw a hissy fit.

So that's what you both did the whole day, talking and just catching up.

While Vox did mention you skipped classes for the day, you just shot back that he threw his work to the backburner as well.

Not that he bothered to refute it, instead just moving on with the conversation like normal.

Hours passed and time flew.

Before you knew it, the both of you were talking well into the evening.

"And that's kind of the reason why I think spaghetti is superior to penne."

"Doll, they're straight up just different kinds of pasta."

"The fact there's different kinds of pasta mean that people clearly can't decide on a superior noodle shape."

Yeaaah... your conversations kind of stopped making sense an hour ago.

Not that either of you minded, even laughing about some stupid thing way into the AM.

"So like- he thought he was really some hot shit taking on the leader of the exorcists but he got his ass absolutely handed to him!"

"Bro almost got turned into demonic venison HAHAHAHA!"

Though of course, late night conversations always went deeper than those normally held within the day.

"Say... Vox?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you miss being alive? With, ya know- talking to me and all."

Vox paused slightly, it's been a long time since he reminisced of his living days.

When was the last time he even did?

"Not necessarily, I miss some things but not a whole lot."

"Like what? When did you die???"

"Hm... I don't remember the exact date, but sometime in the fifties?"

Vox recoiled when you just gawked at his screen, why did you react like that?

"Holy shit! You're fucking ancient!"

"Haha... very funny doll, I'm not that old! I died in my thirties."

"Ehhhh? You're not much older than I am then. How??"

"Don't remember, it was a long long time ago."

You made a weird face at him, to which Vox just smiled and chuckled.

It was the same expression you wore when trying to figure things out.

As... weird and cute as it may be.

Then you suddenly yawned, causing the tech overlord to consequently do the same.

Something you poked fun at him for since when did TVs yawn apparently.

Rolling his eyes, Vox took a glance at his internal clock.

It was four in the morning?!

How long had you both been talking????

"Vox? You good?"

Apparently his bewilderment was evident on the screen, so he just switched his attention back to you.

Vox's screen glitched slightly when he was caught off guard by how close you got to the TV.

Almost all up in his face even.

"Y-Yeah, just zZst- fine. Say... Doll, do you know what time it is?"

"Uhhhh- no, not really- why?"

"It's four in the morning."

"And?"

"You need to sleep?"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back to the TV, plopping down on the couch with a pout.

"Hey."

You ignored him.

"Heeeeeey-"

Vox couldn't help but chortle from your antics, you really seemed like a grumpy child right now.

"Look dollface, I don't want the fun to end either but we've still got tomorrow."

"I don't wanna say goodnight. You're just going to disconnect when I do."

"What, you can't expect me to fall asleep hooked up to all your stuff again can you? My chair isn't the most comfortable place to fall asleep."

"Still!"

Vox rubbed his face with a sigh, he felt the inexplicable urge to just pinch your cheeks.

He would if he could but he didn't exactly have hands as a TV.

Why did you have to be so cute?

"How about this? I'll stick around until you pass out. You won't even notice I'm gone come morning."

"Fineeeeeee."

It didn't take too long for you to fall asleep on the couch.

Similarly to yesterday, you were just haphazardly sprawled across the furniture with a thin blanket to cover you.

Despite his words, Vox still stuck around for a while to make sure you were asleep.

You looked so serene while you rested, like you didn't have any worries.

The overlord let out a tired sigh, he'll just stick around for another five minutes.

Just a little longer in this peaceful moment with you.

Vox totally fell asleep in his chair again, he woke up that morning in an awkward position feeling more sore than ever too.

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

"MORNING VOXYYY!!!"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

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wesstars · 6 months

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can't rely on my heart

wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: are people more likely to tell the truth while they’re drunk? wc: 800 tags: all characters involved are 18+. AU, they’re in some big city. wednesday and reader are childhood ‘friends.’ unresolved tension!!! a/n: i miss y’all 😭hope everyone is doing well!! welcome to another wednesday wednesday with the most amazing @evilwednesday. special good morning to @mindyswhore. @melrodrigo told me to hurry up haha. (let’s just ignore how I missed last week okay)

masterlist

1:28 am

come get your bitch.

Wednesday frowned at Yoko’s text. She wondered, briefly, who “your bitch” could ever be—unbidden, your grinning face came to mind, shining bright as a dying star. Wednesday hated it. It was stuff like this, knowing that your friends would ask Wednesday, of all people, to come pick you up, that was intolerable. Always popular yet with a genuine charm, you commanded attention wherever you were, so warm and dazzling that you eclipsed everything around you. You consistently crossed the line with Wednesday, since you really never knew when to stop. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her car keys.

***

You were giggling. It was insufferable: it had already been enough to go to the bar—a place with sticky floors that Wednesday turned her nose up at—and it was excruciating to have dragged you out, catching you from rolling your ankle on the pavement, so your glittering laugh really was the worst torture Wednesday was willing to endure. Yoko had pushed you unceremoniously into Wednesday, while Enid sent her a sympathetic glance and a promise to text. Wednesday was torn between keeping her distance, so you wouldn’t throw up on her shoes, and holding you upright so you wouldn’t cause a scene, but you made her decision for her.

“You’re so—sloppy,” Wednesday hissed, grabbing your elbow to stop you from careening into a pedestrian. You’d always been a lightweight, since your university days, where you’d always show up, drunk as a dog, knocking at Wednesday and Enid’s place. You would claim that you lost your address. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be over there at all, every little quirk you had being memorized by the apartment: your mug, your spare key, your book on how the biggest planets are made of the very same things that humans are.

“Wednesday,” you said, leaning on her shoulder. She wrinkled her nose. “Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday…

She scoffed. “Just be quiet.”

“I don’t want to,” you whined, being the absolute child that Wednesday thought you were. She let go of your arm, stalking towards her car without you. While she definitely thought of you as someone she could do without babysitting, she still looked back to make sure you were following. You were tracing your crooked path on the sidewalk, scuffing your shoes as you trailed your fingers on every streetlight and sign pole that you passed. Something licked its way through Wednesday’s veins, destructive like fire.

“You…” Wednesday ignored you. Why had she parked so far? The sooner you crashed on her couch, the sooner you’d leave her alone.

“You, with that beautiful smile—” gods, just how many drinks did you have?—“Hold on.”

“I don’t smile.” Wednesday waited, for some reason, as you stumbled forward, catching up to her while the drinks caught up to you.

Ignoring her, you whispered, “I have something to say to you,” showing all your teeth in a dopey smile. When you leaned in, Wednesday saw how the shine of the streetlights caught on your rosy cheeks, glowing.

“You’re even prettier when you’re all the way here, with me, not just in my head.”

Wednesday felt her dead, still heart jolt with an artificial electricity, as if you’d pressed both hands to her chest and yelled clear! It was a startlingly alive experience, being touched by such a startlingly alive person. Every breath was hard to take, as you looked down. The streetlight cast a warm glow, lighting up your outline. You smelled too much like alcohol for such an admission, one where she could feel the cold metal of your arrow, Apollo ablaze, press up against her ribs.

It was weird, how one never really does know the answer to an unspoken question until it was right in front of them, burning.

“You’re not going to remember this,” Wednesday said quietly. “I’m telling you now, so you can understand why.” She looked into your eyes; they were surprisingly clear for someone so inebriated.

Your voice was a whisper, nearly drowned out by a car rushing past. “Why what?”

Wednesday looked up at you. You’d stopped right in front of her car, an accuracy unbecoming of how drunk you seemed to be. She placed a hand on you, your shoulder this time, and yanked you down to her height. You were so close, now, your nose brushing hers, and she felt you take a breath. “Why I don’t mind you being this close.” She hoped you could smell the jasmine perfume she wore. “Why I don’t mind when you cross the line.” Your hair fell into your eyes. “Why I’m driving you home.”

She stepped back, opening the car door and shoving you in. You leaned your temple on the seat, head tilted back to meet her eyes.

“I know, Wednesday.”

a/n cont'd: something something yearning something something

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

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tinfairies · 8 months

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I've been reading your other work and its got me thinking about the Sinclair brothers and facesittting. What do you think their reactions would be? How much would they enjoy it? Would they prefer teasing or overstimulating? I have so many thoughts haha, I'd love to hear what you think xx

Sinclair Twins and Facesitting

GN!Reader, AFAB body

V.S.

Vincent will do anything to please his lover, he's desperate to make them feel good. Almost as a compensation for his appearance.

Vin is very much a service top and facesitting is one of his favorite positions. He enjoys teasing his partner, but when it comes to this position he's all about overstimulating them.

Though he'll never ask his partner to sit on his face, not until they bring it up first.

After the first time, he's hooked. He enjoys just being used by his lover, even if his hands are guiding their hips.

His cock twitches when they beg for him to stop, and to give them more in the same breath.

He melts at the view he has from down below, their soft tummy and round tits. He has definitely drawn that view from memory.

Already loves to just breath in their sweet musky smell and now it's easier to, and he can hide it by pretending he's just breathing.

He wants to see how many times they can squirt all over his face. Lapping up their cum and sucking on their swollen clit.

B.S.

A fucking tease through and through.

Facesitting isn't his favorite, but that doesn't mean he hates it.

Bo will make his partner hover over his face, and he'll hold their hips just to make sure they don't go anywhere.

He'll spread their cunt open with his fingers. Inspecting them if you will.

Loves the pretty sight, wet, throbbing cunt. Just begging to be fucked and abused. He won't give in easy though.

Bo wants them to beg, and cry for him to fuck them. To put his mouth on them, to shove his tongue up their cunt and find that sweet spot.

He just enjoys riling them up and making them feel small and embarrassed, even though they're the one in a dominant position.

Eventually he'll break, the temptation of tasting his favorite thing takes hold and he'll grab their hips then pull them down to his mouth.

Licking at their folds and just barely brushing his tongue up against their clit, before delving into their needy hole.

This sat in my drafts for a day and I couldn't think of anything substantial for Lester I'm so sorry

#slashers smut #slashers headcanons #slasher imagines #slashers imagines #slashers x reader #slasher smut #slashers #house of wax #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #Smut

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cosmicpoutine · 1 month

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leaving a lil rant here :]

I love Tim and his ships sm. Me personally, I only really ship TimKon. Those two are perfect for eachother and have so much clear queer coding that it’s crazy, and they have dialogue that’s just. gay shaped.

I also get TimBart, I don’t ship it romantically but I get why people do!! Tim and Bart are close as well, and the balance they get between ‘depressed tired wet cat’ and ‘living breathing embodiment of adhd’ is great.

I also get TimBartKon, they’re a trio. They are always a trio, so many people like to bring up how TimKon has so much coding and one of the big examples they use is when Tim tried to clone Kon. You know who else he tried to clone? Bart.

The only Tim ship I don’t get is TimBern, or any ship involving those two. When Bernard first appears, he’s Tim’s bully. He actively makes fun of tim and puts him down and then that character is forgotten about until Tim comes out as bi, then they just rework his character and go “haha guys this is his boyfriend not bully ygs are crazy” and just forget about all the bad stuff Bernard did? Reworking a character is great and all but, it just feels a bit weird and out of place for me. There’s always going to be that certain toxicity for TimBern, at least for me.

homie... bully??? im flabbergasted- im speechless- im jason todd (dead)

okay, im gonna start off by saying you have all the right to not ship them, and im not here to defend timbern as a ship. im here to defend BERNARD DOWD.

first thing bernard does is give tim advice about teachers, and he clearly says they're gonna be good friends.

if bernard was a bully, tim wouldn't hang around him so much. besides, i hate it when people place tim as a helpless little boy who would get bullied. he has put himself in situations where he looks weak on purpose to keep his identity safe, but he's not a victim at all. tim is a social butterfly because he's really good at masking and reading people.

not to mention, both bernard and darla push tim a lot because they're trying to get him to open up and be closer to them, but he keeps pushing them away. tim is a professional liar.

and when tim has to quit robin and start hanging out with normal people, he invites bernard over.

and bernard is acting relatively normal, and he wants to play video games and talk about how hot tim's stepmom is.

bernard is a normal teenager who has no idea one of his friends is the hero he's so obsessed with. he even shows concern for robin dying and makes up an entire conspiracy theory about batman havin a robin orphanage. you can tell he's afraid of robin being gone for real because at this point they haven't seen robin in months bc tim retired.

i dont know what about all of these interactions gave you the vibe that he's a bully because all i see is a normal teenager teasing his friends and being jealous tim gets more bitches.

im not saying that bernard was never mean or weird around tim, but he definitely wasn't actively bullying tim.

bernard is obnoxious and cocky, yes. but thats just because they wrote him as a real person. he's the school's chameleon, maybe even a little bit of a loser, too. he knows everyone but keeps a safe distance so that he doesn't get pushed into a box. im not sure if, at this point, he was already in a cult or being indoctrinated, but when we see his parents and the dowd home in tim drake: robin that just doesn't look right.

also homie talk about "forgetting all the bad things bernard did" (which in my opinion is none but okay lets follow that logic) everyone forget about all the bad things batman did to tim, he was not a kind and loving mentor, he was cruel to both tim and steph. we forget that batman was kind of an asshole to damien in the beginning. all those things are forgotten for the sake of the batfam.

in conclusion: we're just so used to the idea that superheroes can only ever form strong friendship bonds by having near death experiences together that we forget that the secret identifies exist and that the people who know them by their legal name also means a lot to them. after all, these people are the reason why they're heroes.

#bernard dowd #timbern #tim drake #i could make a 2 hours long video essay on bernard dowd and how deep his character actually goes #but yall are not ready for that #ask #cosmic inbox

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cheshirebitch · 1 month

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Can i request reader who has pingu energy with making and giving alastor his valentines day card please?

I didn’t know what you meant at first until I REALIZED haha. I hope I did you justice and that you enjoy as much as I did writing it! (Here’s a gif for the people who don’t know what this lovely requester meant)

𝔾𝕣𝕦𝕞𝕡𝕪 𝕍𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕖

Alastor x Reader

I really hated Valentine’s Day. Like, I really fucking hate Valentine’s Day. You can only like the holiday so much when you caught your boyfriend cheating on you, shot him, and then got hit by a car while speeding away from the police. Hell of a way to go, I know. Alastor found it hilarious. Especially when my ex tried to stay at the hotel. The lovely deer man ended up eating him before I could get a word in. That was when I realized I really had a thing for the old fashion man.

That pretty much explains why I was now trying to make a card perfect enough to present to him. Everything had to be perfect, but it definitely was not going as planned. I have created at least thirty cards by now, none of which were good enough to give to Alastor. The top three cards so far got ruined when I spilled my paint water on them. I tried recreating the one with the deer puns, since he is always making them with me whenever he has a chance. We were both deer. I joked with Alastor that the reason I was created into a demon deer was because I was hit by a car, like how deer were commonly struck during my time alive.

The next card was completely red with different shades. With how he dresses, and his diet preferences, I figured his favorite color was red, hopefully. Inside it wrote in the fanciest cursive I could write, “You have my whole heart, try not to eat it.” I thought he would get a good chuckle out of that, just in case he doesn’t return the feelings as well.

The last card was one that had a drawing of Alastor I was actually proud of, but of course that was right when I knocked over the cup. Which, of course, stuck me in a completely grumpy mood. I grabbed the red construction paper and slammed it aggressively onto the table. I glared daggers at the cup, now empty of all its paint water, before smacking it off the table.

With the red construction paper in front of me, I glanced around the table for what I should slap onto this three hour long project. Husk walked past before stopping and back peddling.

“What are you doing?” Without hesitating, I mean mugged him.

”This stupid fucking heartfelt card bullshit.” I snatched the red glitter glue from the edge of the table and squirted it messily onto the cover of the card. I grabbed the other shade of red construction paper and started cutting out a heart shape. Husk chuckled, shaking his head.

”To who?” My eyes snapped back up to look at him. I grabbed the three ruined cards and tossed them towards the end of the table Husk stood at. He looked down at them, carefully flipping them without ruining them further than I already had.

“Al-“

”You shut your mouth, Cat.” He raised his eyebrows, dropping the ruined cards back down. The last thing I need is for Alastor to hear and come snooping around. I know him well enough that he could hear when someone says his name and always shortly swings by like the nosy man he is. I mean, he was a radio host. It was his job to be nosy.

“I will leave you to it.” He raised his hands up in surrender, walking back out of the room and towards wherever his original destination was. Yeah, that’s what I thought. Get back to making your own stupid Valentine’s Day gift for Angel Dust. I huffed before slapping my cut out paper heart in the center. My fingers rummaged around the table, ready to grip the black marker whenever I found it. I was too busy glaring at the messy card. My teeth ripped off the cap, spitting the lid somewhere next to me, and then carefully writing his name with as much patience I had left. My patience was barely there, but there was enough for the cursive to come out great.

I was still pissed.

I snatched the card off the table, scribbled my message inside, and then marched to find the deer in question.

”Alastor! Where are you?” I strode into the lobby area, searching for Alastor so this nightmare could be done and over with.

"What's that frown on your face for?” Static and a smile.

“Here.” I spun around and aggressively held out the card, still completely grumpy about everything leading up to this moment. Alastor had an amused face, looking down at the card. Waiting for him to take it, I watched how he tossed his staff into the crook of his arm. His claws delicately took the card from my hands. Glad to be rid of the card and the pressure, I marched off back into the room where my three cards sat, slightly drier than before.

“Stupid fucking water. Stupid fucking cards.” I grumbled while cleaning up the mess I made on the table. Why did I have to worry so much if he liked it? Why did I even decide to even make him a card? He probably just thought it was friendly, or something negative. Valentine’s Day has always been just heartbreak, why did I set myself back up for it this year?

”You left before I could give you my gift, dear.” I jumped out of my skin and turned around to see Alastor looking at the three ruined cards.

”These are also very pleasant. I do wish they didn’t get ruined.” He flipped the cards back over to how they were sitting before. That’s when I saw the bouquet of my favorite flowers, a beautifully decorated card, and a black velvety box. My eyes shot up to his as they looked at me over his monocle. He straightened his back and took two long strides to me.

”I promise I won’t eat your heart if you promise to stop being so enticingly sweet.” The grump look on my face melted away into a sheepish smile. It must have been infectious as he smiled wider and more sincere. He gently places the gifts on a cleared section, then carefully grazes his claws on my face.

“There’s that beautiful smile, Mon Cher.” His hands dragged down from my face to my hands, pulling one up to kiss delicately, then flashing those crimson eyes of his back up to mine.

Okay, maybe Valentine’s Day won’t be so bad this year.

(As always, the character belong to their owner and the story belongs to me. If you have any requests or ideas, send them over :)! I will gladly try to write things for my supporters! Thank you for the love and have a great day <3!)

#fanfic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel #x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #radio demon #xreader #hazbin hotel alastor

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goldenhourwriter · 10 months

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•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•

part one (you are here) • part two •

⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

⋆warning(s): i guess just fighting and some cursing. and threatening to bite someone lol. also i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.

⋆a/n: this was so fun to write! requests are open, and i am new to this blog, so hang on while i get this all figured out. requests are open, and this will be a mini series i am continuing!!

It’s not usually this quiet at the Spider Society.

It’s nice.

I walk around, humming softly to myself as I munch on a banana, a craving I usually get. I let my hand rest on my slightly swollen belly, my suit especially made to let it stretch and give the baby some room.

Yeah, ever heard of a pregnant Spider-Woman?

It happened a couple of months ago, as married couples tend to let happen. It’s twins, actually. One boy and one girl, but, my husband doesn’t know yet. Doesn’t want to know. I called the doctor anyways, and even though he threw a hissy fit that could rival a toddler, he relented and said it was fine.

And, it was kind of nice being alone. A lot of the spider-people tend to do things for me, think I’m incapable of doing things now because I’m pregnant. Even the ridiculous Spider-Man T-Rex gave me a ride through the halls. I snort at the thought, gaining some weird looks.

Obviously, I didn’t refuse. Who would pass up a ride on a freaking dinosaur?

My few 30 minutes of bliss, however, was interrupted by the beeping on my watch. I tap on it and smile when I see Lyla. She gives a wave.

“Hey, big wifey,” she teases, pushing up her pink, heart-shaped glasses. I roll my eyes. Everyone knows I hate that name. It doesn’t make me feel fat, it just makes me very aware of the two babies living inside of me, and how very uncomfortable life can really get.

“Hey, algorithm girl, what’s up?” I shoot back with sarcasm. I am met with satisfaction as she gives me a dead-pan look.

“Haha, very funny, love that,” she says sarcastically. “Your husband is struggling with an anomaly. Earth-65, some kind of Renaissance bird-man.”

I giggle at the thought. I can imagine his annoyance. “Gotcha, and did he actually call for back up?” I ask, but i already know the answer. I take another bite of my banana, shifting my weight onto my right leg. I can never stand still for too long, luckily, being a super hero can keep me moving. Keeps the babies satisfied.

She snorts at me, like i was making some hilarious, un-heard of joke. I relent, sighing and preparing my bracelet to go to the universe she said he was in.

“Alright, alright. How long do you think until he actually asks?”

“I’d give you about two minutes. He’s getting really thrown around with this one. And there’s another spider person, trying to ask him too many questions.”

My eyes perk back up to the hologram when she mentions this. “I haven’t heard of a recruit from Earth-65, is she new?” I ponder out loud. I cock my head to the side, adjusting my mask. Well, half mask. It really only covers my eyes. Lyla nods. “Yup, she’s a new one. She’s a nice kid, too.”

I smile.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Lyla logs off and I sigh, patting my baby bump. “Alright, you guys,” I whisper to my belly. I stick out my hand and the portal opens, and I jump in. I shout with joy, flying through the portal, and as I practically fall to the other end, my hair whips around.

I fall on the other end, and I groan as my hair blocks my vision. I hear grunting, crushing, wings flapping, and snappy remarks being thrown about, but I can’t see anything. I flip my hair over my head, shaking it out.

“I need a hair tie on these things,” I mumble to myself.

I look over, and I see a feminine-looking spider-hero staring at me. I give her a small wave. Her eyes are wide, I can tell. I examine her suit, which seems like it holds up pretty well. It has hood, which is new to me, and she’s wearing…are those ballet flats? I smile

“Hey, babes! You look cute!” I compliment to the get up.

She waves back again, and she looks down at my stomach. “Are you….?” She trails off. I look down, and put a hand on my hip. “Yep, I am. It’s twins, but don’t tell my husband the sexes yet. He wants to wait.” She nods, but seems to remember that she doesn’t know just who my husband is. She takes a step towards me.

“Who are you married to? Are there even more people like us?” I nod.

“My husband’s right….” I don’t even flinch as he gets thrown into the wall right in front of me, and I smile. “There.”

He groans as he slips to get up, his mask eyes squinting at me. I squint my eyes right back.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m carrying your children,” I scold. He gestured to the giant creature that hurls towards us. “I need help here!” He shouts at me. Lyla puts up on my shoulder, and we both cross our arms. He sighs, looking down.

“Please, Y/N? Sabes que no me gusta mendigar,(You know I don’t enjoy begging),“ He pleads quietly.

Vulture screeches at us. “Love truly makes me sick,” he narrates out loud, and he reaches his talons out for me. I stuck out my wrists and web up one wing, so he goes sideways, just barely missing me. He breaks free, but I web up behind him again.

“Your attitude makes me sick!” I shout at him. “You seem like the Beethoven of your area, jerky, cold, and not the greatest people-person!” I struggle to speak as I try to web him up again, but it doesn’t work. He barrels towards me, and grabs me in his talons. I hear Miguel growl and leap off the ground, landing on his back. He tugs on the man’s feathers, making him spin around to try and find him. I take the opportunity to web myself away from his grasp, kicking him away as I do so.

“Is this guy made of paper?” I ask, rubbing my hands together as I take a moment to actually register what just happened. Miguel grunts, and yells as he speaks to me from the bottom of the building. “Honey, I love your voice, but I really need you to use your actions right now!”

I spot a few witnesses trapped behind some rubble, so I shoot off the side of the wall to swoop them up. They scream, clutching onto me, and I drop them off right by a big police officer. He gawks at me, and I give him salute as Miguel webs me up again. I twist up, getting wrapped in his webbing, and I break free using a kick, hitting Vulture square in the jaw with my foot. He grunts in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, and Miguel uses this moment to try and guide him down, so he won’t escape.

I land right next to, what’s her name? I’ll learn it soon enough. I land right next to the teen as she stares at me. I smirk at her.

“What, never seen two married spiders?”

She swallows. “Can you adopt me?”

“What?”

“What? Nothing! Nothing!”

Miguel groans, and I can tell he’s growing tired. “¡Por Dios! ¿Puedes dejar de hablar por un momento? (Oh, my God. Can you stop talking for a moment?)” He calls out to me. I let out a heavy sigh, putting my hands on my knees. “I’m sorry, but your babies are making it hard to move right now!” I shout at him. Gwen webs away from me, and Miguel lands right next to me again. “Last time I checked, it took two people to make those two babies,” he grumbles. We take a moment and watch as Gwen tries to take down Vulture by herself.

I look at Miguel, and raise my eyebrows. “Did she call ya ‘Dark Garfield?’” I ask. He groans, and I can tell hair eyes shut as his head falls forward. “Yes.”

I giggle. “I like her. Maybe we can recruit-“ “No. No, we can’t, and you know why.” My somewhat playful attitude disappears with a frown, and I nod in compliance. He grabs my waist and he swings us up, and then we fall onto the Vulture back again. I scream through gritted teeth as I try to hold him down on the ground, but he flings me off, a sudden, new found strength in him.

“What the hell?” I curse. “Not cool, man!”

“This ends now,” he says to me, and he springs upward. I curse under my breath again, but it seems Miguel is on top of it. Literally.

“If he gets out, this whole universe will collapse!” He shouts, mainly at Gwen. I know the risks involved, having to save almost every universe from them every day. I shoot my wrist out, but I groan. I hit my web shooters, but nothing comes out. “Fuck-Miguel! I’m out!” I try to jump from floor to floor, but I quickly get nauseous while doing that. I look down at my stomach again, poking it. “So web slinging is fine but jumping is what doesn’t please you guys?” I ask the unborn babies. I get a mere kick in return. “I know that was the girl. That was way too sassy,” I grumble to myself.

Spider-Girl lands right beside me, and she looks at my husband and he battles Vulture. They both crash right through the glass ceiling, and we shield ourselves from the shards that could possibly cut us. She looks at me.

“What is he gonna do?” She asks. Miguel takes the Vulture’s face in his hands, and opens his mouth, wide, baring his fangs and giving a loud roar. “Oh snap,” whispers under his breath. But, he’s cut short, when a helicopter shines a light on him. He yells at the helicopter, his mask coming up again to cover his face.

“I’m a good guy! I’m here to help!” He desperately explains. My spider senses then go off, and I scream up to Miguel.

“Miguel! Watch-!“

I’m too late. Vulture throws two weapons at the helicopter, and then the helicopter starts to spin, going down, and fast.

“Shit.” All three of us say in unison.

I look to the kid, and she’s already looking at me. I nod towards her, and she returns the gesture, and we both know what that means. She launches off the floor, and she begins to web a net. I take a deep breath. “Alright, babies, don’t make me throw up,” I say sternly to my unborn babies.

I leap off the ground, and I fly through the middle of the helicopter, grabbing the two pilots and landing on the fourth floor of the building. I grunt as I roll on the ground with them, and we writhe in pain.

I turn to the both of them, checking on them, and I run to the edge, well, the mess that made the edge. I look down, and the teenage girl is flying through the air, webbing up a net. And just as the helicopter is about to crash, she flies right underneath it, just barely getting nipped by the chopper.

She lands, breathing heavily.

“Wow,” I whisper. Miguel hops a bit in front of me, landing on some rubble.

“I was gonna do that,” he says quietly to himself. I can tell he’s thinking her, thinking about her hard. Miguel and I share a glance at her, and she nods. She turns and hops down from the huge rock, and goes back towards the wall, out of sight. I turn and see the two pilots staring at me. I smile.

“Yeah, I know, there’s lots of freaky spider people, that was my reaction too. Cmon, let’s get you two a medic.” I reach down and offer my hand to them, which they take, one at a time. I help them to the big opening in the building where the door used to be, and I hand them over to some officers.

I sigh, turning around to find my husband surveying the area.

I walk up to him, putting a hand on his back, feeling his tense and rigid muscles, alert and still in attack mode. He seems to relax a little at my touch, and he lets his mask down. I grin, amusement

“Your hair is all messed up.” “Can you and I have one good moment after a battle where you don’t make fun of my hair?” “Absolutely not.”

He lets out a low growl, rolling his eyes. I walk a little in front of him, and stare at the place where the teen escaped to, hearing some grunting from there. No doubt she’s recovering on her own. My hand comes to rest on my stomach, my thumb running over the bump. I turn back to Miguel, my mouth open to speak, but he beats me to it.

“I said no,” he rejects me as he leans down to pick up some broken machinery. He scoffs at some poor excuse for art. “I’m starting to think Vulture did everyone a favor by destroying this place, this art sucks-“

“Miguel O'Hara, no cambies de tema,” I say sternly. He lets out a sigh. Spanish isn’t even my main language, so when I speak it, he knows I’m not messing around. He spins around, holding a figurine of a balloon dog in his hand. I would find it comedic, a big guy like him holding a small thing like that, but not when he’s trying to avoid my questions.

“You know we can use her. I’ve never seen anything like her, and she even beat you to one of your moves. You have to agree with me on this!” I gesture out in front of me, as if the conversation is laid out in front of us. Miguel sighs, walking up to me with his hands on his hips. His expression is hard, but his eyes give it away. He’s considering it, it helps if I’ve spent about a couple years with him now.

He brings his hand to my waist and another to my hair, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Te amo demasiado a veces,” he mumbles into my hair.

Okay, that gives me absolutely nothing.

His hand travel down to my stomach, and his two very large hands splay over my tummy. His lips quirk up a bit as one of them kicks against my skin. “Did you do okay today?” He asks quietly, referring to my very pregnant self. I nod, but it doesn’t seem to reassure him.

Vulture struggles next to us, but we just give him an annoyed look. “I’m done with your attitude!” Miguel tells him, pointing at him. He sighs, turning back to me, grabbing my waist and pulling me impossibly closer, so we’re basically sharing the same breathe. My stomach flutters. Even after marrying him, he really can have the same affect on me from when I was a new recruit.

“You know you can always opt out whenever, I can call for other backup,” he says quietly. He’s trying to spare my feelings, not letting others hear so I won’t get embarrassed. I’m never embarrassed, it’s life, I got pregnant, but I appreciate the sentiment. I lean up and kiss his nose.

“I know, thank you, but really, I’m fine.” I stick a hand up as he begins to protest. “At 7 months, I will take maternity leave. I’ll rest and just be the desk person, okay?” I ask. He debates it for a moment, and lets out a grunt and nods. We stay in our somewhat embrace for a bit, when we hear a gun shot. My head whips to where Spider-Woman went and hid, and I look at Miguel.

His mask forms again, and he kicks Vulture, telling him to be still as he picks him up. Miguel picks me up with his other arm and swings to the opening as we fall in.

“Dad, please!” She begs the cop standing across from her. Miguel shoots a containment pod at him, and she runs towards him. I grab her by the shoulders, trying to use my softest voice.

“Hey, hey, kid. Hey, it’s okay, we’re here, we got you,” I say quietly to her. She’s crying as she clutches onto my arm, staring at her dad. Miguel opens a portal, and I give the kid one more pat and walk over to him.

“What are we gonna do?” I whisper to him. He looks at me. “What do you mean?”

I roll my eyes.

“We can’t just leave her here!” I get a bit louder, but he shushes me, putting a finger up. My jaw drops.

“You did not just shush me,” I growl.

“Oh, I think I did.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t-!”

Miguel and I bicker back and forth, and at some point, Vulture voluntarily hops into the portal, all tied up, not wishing to stick around. I stick my finger up as I try to argue with him, my hand coming to my hip, and he towers over me, but that never took away my edge.

Then, some sniffling gets us to shut up.

The kid looks at us, her eyes watery and wide. She looks like what she is…a teenager who’s lost and alone. She opens her mouth to speak. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

I look slowly at Miguel, and he lets his head hang forward.

“Yeah, well….”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Join the club.”

🕷️ 💍

#miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider man into the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #miles morales #gwen stacy

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lxverrings · 28 days

Note

Hola!

It's been a while I know 💀

I just have something in my head and can't get my head out of it. Just hear me out- 😭

Spider!Reader being Miles', Gwen's and Mayday's work-mom (basically their mom at work). Reader just loves kids (haha can't relate 💀) and is a natural mother.

Miguel realizes that he wants needs to put a baby in Reader asap. (Breeding kink basically)

- Solecito (aka. Spanish anon 🇪🇸)

Me coming right back to life from how GOOD this ask is... Holy shit you put me in a mood 🥲

Motherly Instinct.

A Miguel O’hara drabble ; MDNI, NSFW under the cut!

Summary: What Solecito said, except I took the creative liberty to ensure reader speaks Spanish and also Mayday kind of has MJ (/other variations of her) so I’m going to add Pav and Hobie!!! Also reader isn’t necessarily a spider-person but def in the medical part of the spider society, so you go ahead with your little imagination <3

R/N: this put me in such a mood I need to find more fics like this smh and extra note, I feel you Solecito, I HATE TODDLERS!!!! babies are fine, so are teens, but TODDLERS??? TODDLERS???? my patience is thin... But I personally would like kids and especially with Miguel O’hara...

Warnings: NSFW under cut!!!! Obviously breeding kink warnings, mating press ig, Miguel physically cannot get his hands off reader...

——

You’ve been in the society for quite a while now. From Miguel’s start to the shablam with Miles and the final acceptance of the boy into the society, even if Miguel was a bit sour about it...

Either way, it’s been long enough so that Miguel put a ring on that finger...

For the time being, your husband hasn’t had time to discuss babies, which is something that you’ve been thinking about, and subtly (not) been bringing up. He promises that someday in the future.

Well, someday is still too far away.

You’ve been at least calming your raging baby fever by talking with the younger spiders and doing your best to take care of their occasional reckless behavior...

“Hey! Heyyy!!! I told you I was fine!” Gwen puffed as she was bandaged up from the shards of glass due to her impromptu landing, Hobie just chuckled— probably his idea...— more than anything to land that way.

“Oi, “ma’...” do me a favo’ ’n check on my ’vitr, thanks, luv.” he mused, he seemed unfazed, despite the wraps tied around his wrists and arms.

“Will do, Hobie...” you smiled warmly, nodding at the younger spider, while Miles nervously fidgeted. “Miles...” you began before you gently patted his arm, “It’s okay, don’t worry.” you smiled reassuringly, trying to soothe his nerves— seeing Gwen and Pavitr get hurt like that, definitely must have altered the nerves in the young man.

“I know... I just... I guess I’m nervous. I would talk it out with mí mamí, but I guess I just... Well. It’s nice talking to you, not lie a replacement, but... Like a supplement? Wait... No that sounds wrong...” he mumbled— which got him out of that loop.

“You sound like a gym bro...” Pavitr finally giggled. Hobie let out a small sigh of relief and chuckled.

“Swolemates, huh?” Hobie chuckled, you rolled your eyes and smiled at them, the little group of preteens filled the room with easy chatter.

You smiled and nodded at them, unaware of Miguel’s gaze from the sight of the cameras that filled the screens of his monitoring.

Honestly, Miguel wasn’t paying much attention, until Lyla’s alarming noises went off.

“What the shock, Lyla?!”

The snarky hologram just smirked, “Oh nothing.”

“I just wanted to show you this!” she chirped with a smile.

He just rolled his eyes for a while— until the screen lit up with your face and the chit-chats with the younger spiders.

Mom? Ma?

Fuck.

He was so down bad.

Embarrassing, really, wasn’t it?

Either way, Miguel just stood and grumbled.

“Lyla. Shock. Call her in.”

“C’monn...”

“Shut the shock up and call her in!”

“C’mon! C’mon!”

“Please, can you just shocking—”

“Yeah, I already called her.” Lyla smirked as Miguel grumbled and swatted her off.

“Boss got you on track, huh ma?” Hobie smirked as you smiled nervously and swatted him off.

“I bet it’s not important...” you mused before Lyla interrupted.

“It’s very important!!!”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure everything is okay? Maybe it’s important— but in a good way?” Gwen offered with a small smile and tilted her head quietly.

“Don’t be that way,” Miles muttered, but he shuddered, perhaps he was getting the PTSD that Miguel put him through.

“You are all such pessimists! The passion is palpable, how can you concentrate when our big bad boss is in loooove?” Pavitr quickly shot back in absolute delight.

You shooed them off with a smile before retreating to Miguel’s... Lair. If you could call it that. Office? Same thing.

You walked off quickly, and entered his office. If you could call it that.

Miguel watched you sternly and crossed his arms as he stalked over your smaller form

“Hola, Miguelito!”

“Ay. You’re finally here.” he grumbled, putting his large hand on the top of your head, pushing back stray locks of hair to kiss your forehead.

You smiled warmly, unaware of the daunting gaze he held on you.

“I have to ask something of you.” he mumbled as he lightly peppered your face in kisses, “És muy importante...”*

“Lo que tú quieras...”*

He stared down for a moment.

“Quiero un bebé.”*

Oh.

You stared up at him nervously, your face flushed as your hands twittered together, and you gazed nervously up at him, “Oh?”

“Shock.” he hissed and held your chin as his kisses became more passionate, “Wanna get you pregnant, I want to give you a little baby. A little baby that looks like you, shock. You would make such a good mommy. Cuidando chamacos qué ni son tuyos... Y lo hacés tan bién...”*

Your breath hitched but you smiled up at him, “Me gustaría tener un bebé contigo...”*

The bed screeched underneath the brutal pace Miguel was going at, how many hours had it been?

Fuck.

Your clammy hands pulling at the sheets and the hiccups and tears that left your eyes as he pounded over and over again.

His tip prodding at your abused cervix, the harsh little veins scratching at your sweetest spots, and the scruffiness of his happy trail scratching at your little pearl of nerves.

God knows how many orgasms you had, your ankles over his shoulders as he bent you in half had your squelching cunt shaking and twitching as tears left your eyes at rapid paces.

“Dios. Ay! Miguel, por favor—Sisisi— ay! Ahí! Ahí!”* you begged in tears, both of you reduced to mingled Spanish as he gruffed and grunted.

“Te voy a llenar otraves, así te gusta. Sí. Tómalo todo. No dejes qué sé salga nada. Te voy a llenar de bebés. Te voy a dejar redonda y hinchada, hasta qué quedes bién embarazada y tengas mí bebé. Hasta qué grites de tan sensible y débil qué estés...”* he hissed back and kissed you with a stronger passion.

He was relentless with his pace as his fingers worked your nipples and he mused something about getting to drink from your swollen boobs, and getting to dress you in maternity clothes— how he couldn’t wait to watch it work wonders on your body. And how well he would take care of you with his baby. How his spoiled little wife would get nothing but the best, and have her with the most beautiful baby imaginable.

No mercy was bestowed on your poor body and less so that night. Your poor cunt was seeping his essence, and every time that a single drop leaked, he gave you another round until you passed out, only to fall asleep to his gentle praises and his gentle caresses.

Because he wouldn’t have it any other way; you would make the perfect mommy, and god was he lucky, that ring on your finger was absolutely perfect...

But what would make this more perfect? A little baby in your arms.

Surely, as soon as the baby was here, it wouldn’t be very long until he wanted another.

♡

Translations:

It’s very important...

Whatever you want.

I want a baby.

Taking care of rascals that aren’t even yours... And you do it so well...

I would like to have a baby with you...

There, there!

I’m going to fill you up again. That’s how you like it. Yes. Take it all. Don’t let anything spill out. I’m going to fill you with babies. I’m going to leave you round and swollen. Until you’re pregnant and you have my baby. Until you scream from how sensitive and weak you are...

#atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #dom miguel o’hara #dom!miguel o’hara

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bo0tleg · 2 months

Text

GEMS MY FRIEND SAID WATCHING 'TOP GUN: MAVERICK' FOR THE FIRST TIME:

"The jacket! The famous jacket that pulls women, pulls men, pulls the world!"

"Oh look how hot~ he looks on that motorcicle. He's even pracing his ass!"

(Maverick, on screen: "Well... He's not here yet.") The mans madness has begun."

"MAVERICK DON'T DIE YOU STILL NEED TO HAVE YOUR GAY ROMANCE!"

"He lasted two months at Top Gun? HA. He probably was a bigger piece of work than the students."

"From what I can tell, Maverick tamed Iceman. In the first one he was the little annoying bitch and Maverick saw a challenge."

"I mean, at least these two (Penny and Mav) have chemistry. They hooked up in a plane, after all."

"Iceman solves his problems, Iceman keeps his job, what a simp. That's dog behavior."

"Maverick doesn't look likes he's flirting with her, he's just confused. His confused face looks like his flirting face, and people assume. I know this because people do it to me."

"Yeah, he's kinda like that one Olívia Rodrigo song that she gets confused when she sees her ex... What was it again?" ('bad Idea right?' by Olivia Rodrigo)

"I like him (Bob)! He's pathetic like me!"

"Oooohhh they're (Phoenix and Bob) gonna be besties! I can feel it."

(When Phoenix racks Rooster with the cue) "OHOHOHOOOO I LIKE HER ALREADY."

(Didn't notice Hangman taking Bob's cue, I relayed the information) "Aaaahhh don't steal Bob's cue. Bob's cool, Bob's nice."

(After rewinding the scene) "NO, NO, NO! WHO IS THAT? NOBODY CAN STEAL BOB'S CUE! I don't like him (Hangman)."

(Hangman, on screen: Bradshaw! As I live and breathe!) *Slowly turns towards me with dead eyes*

"That's not enemies to lovers, that's just enemies."

"With just this scene, I can tell this guy (Hangman) comes and goes. 'Sometimes I flirt with you, sometimes I hate you.' He's like a tsudere."

"Oh, got it. Phoenix is adopted into the man's group. She's a bro."

"I wouldn't say that they're his support system, but those two are the people that know him the best. Hangman is paying attention because he wants to be the best and needs to defeat Rooster. Phoenix is demonstrating a more sibling like worry."

"Hondo is like Mavericks babysitter."

"Oh. Oh, now Mav's flirting with her."

(Following the 'Baby on Board' comment) "Don't talk shit about Bob! I don't like Hangman."

"Maverick is like a step father to Rooster. Not in the 'HAHA I FUCKED YOUR MOM' kind of way, but in the way that he helped raise him."

"Where is Iceman? I'm here for the two of them, I don't give a fuck about Aeronautics."

"I think Ice and Maverick had a long relationship, but they're not together anymore. They maintained a friendship, but their lives probably went in different directions. I'd say they were together for 10, maybe 20 years."

('I ain't worried' by OneRepublic starts playing) "This song is from 2022? OH MY GOD THE SCENE"

"DON'T PLAY AROUND WITH GRANDPA!"

*Started chanting "BOB! BOB! BOB!" When he got picked up*

*Eeriely quiet during the bird strike, until Maverick starts talking to Rooster* "OH THEY'RE NOT DEAD. THEY COULDN'T HAVE KILLED BOB! IF THEY KILLED BOB I WOULD STOP AND NEVER WATCH TOP GUN EVER AGAIN!"

"Definitely 20 years. Ice is probably the only person Mav actually loved. Like, not a fling?" "Yeah, probably." "He's been with lots of women, and men, but Iceman is the only person he was ever in love with– maybe still is."

"I think his (Ice's) wife knows. That's probably why she recognizes Mav and is kind of friends with him." "That's probably why she just let him go up to see Ice." "YEAH GO AHEAD, FUCK MY HUSBAND!"

"It's pretty easy to notice that Snowman– No, ICEman."

"That is the face of a man who just lost the love of his life."

"Damn, the mans a beast. If It was me I'd already have cried, alone, in a room absolutely destroyed, never to come out again."

"He's got nobody, dude! I just want his step child to come back, because If he doesn't that man's gonna kill himself!"

"Why does it always have to have a romantic ending. Just leave him with his adoptive son. Go away."

"They (Penny and Mav) aren't going to end up together."

"I have a theory! Fanboy is obsessed with women! Cus he's 'Fanboy'." "But wouldn't he be called Simp, then?" "Ah, then he's obsessed with men." "... simp can be for men too."

"There's gonna be a Top Gun Three? Who's it gonna be about? It ain't gonna be Maverick, that man has a foot in the grave already."

"Bob is my favorite in the second movie. I have no favorites in the first one because everybody is very macho and very gay, and that's boring."

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sungbeam · 2 months

Text

nonidol!kim younghoon x f!reader

neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block.

▷ genre, warnings. friends 2 lovers, mutual pining, college au, swearing, fluff, humor, comfort, reader has crowd anxiety, reader has a lot of siblings lol, mentions of math/physics/chemistry/etc sorry it was necessary for the character, kissing, puns and pick-up lines, mentions of academic stress, lots of carbs haha, drinking, guys younghoon was my first bias and im remembering why

▷ total wc. 29.3k (TUMBLR MADE ME CUT OUT SO MUCH I FKN HATE THIS HELLSITE)

this is the seventh installment of the love in unity series! this should be fine as a standalone, but there are multiple references to party people & i highly encourage u to read it!; all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. (ayc occurs DURING party people)

a/n: in an alternate world, i would still be obsessed w kim younghoon, isn't that crazy. anyways, enjoy + reblog!

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OF ALL THE COSMIC COINCIDENCES

KIM Jungwoo's message materialized on your lock screen in a bombardment of photons: Hey, you sure you don't wanna come with us tonight? Feel free to still join :')

You slung the strap of your bag over your head and shoulders before shooting him a reply. No thanks Woo :') Appreciate it though! Have fun tonight <3.

Some of the people in the social circle you orbited were heading to the bay tonight for a bonfire rager to celebrate (read: mourning) the beginning of the new university term. Though you hadn’t seen many of the people attending tonight in a couple months, you were never much for big crowds. Plus, the start of the school year brought a whole dumpster fire of things to worry about, so taking a quiet evening with yourself would be well worth it to keep your head on straight.

With the message sent, you hauled your apartment door open and headed out into the late evening. There was a convenient store at the end of the street a couple blocks over that you had been frequenting since freshman year, and you could taste the sweet brioche buns as the store’s fluorescent lights entered your view. It was a small corner store that reminded you much of a traditional 7/11, except there was a corner inside the store where patrons could eat and chill, and the food, arguably, tasted better than alright.

(The seating area inside this place had definitely seen many of your midterm and finals grind nights. And tears. There were lots of tear stains on those tables.)

Your roommate and good friend Miyawaki Sakura often accompanied you here whenever you came to do some studying, shopping, or recreational snacking. Tonight, she was holed up in her room video chatting with some of her cousins in Japan, but most other nights she would be online playing some kind of first person shooter game.

The walk to the nearby convenience store was a short, yet familiar one. You played a song at a faded volume in your earbuds, your hands tucked into the safety of your pockets. It was a warm night out, as late summer clung onto the coattails of early autumn, leaving a strange mixture of green, red, and yellow in the trees. The streets weren’t barren—plenty of people were out and about on a Saturday night—and still, you tilted your head up to the sky to appreciate the beauty of the obsidian sky.

When you reached the end of the block, you entered into the comfortable embrace of the convenience store. It was quiet, as expected, with only the muffled sound of jazz acoustics from the overhead speakers as white noise. The latter combined with the noise from your own device made it all the easier for you to be unaware of the other people here with you.

Your mouth was already watering from the mental image of brioche, and you made a sharp swerve into the familiar bread aisle when you realized—oh, you weren’t alone.

Standing exactly where you knew the brioche buns were stationed was a tall, lanky man with a pair of earbuds hanging from his own ears, one hand examining one of the bread packages while the other was tucked away in his pocket. His dark colored bangs were shaggy and hung in his eyes, but you could’ve recognized that side profile from a mile away. You’d spent nearly half a quarter staring at it, after all—the other half was looking at his front profile and forehead, but those were just as identifiable.

For a moment you stood at the mouth of the aisle weighing your options. Did you say hello, or did you walk away and pretend you didn’t see him?

He decided for you.

Kim Younghoon glanced up from the bread after feeling your eyes on him for a considerable beat of time. He blinked once before you saw the sharp surprise in his expression melt away into soft fondness. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckled, tugging his earbuds out with a charming smile. “Long time no see, Yn.”

You mirrored his actions and slipped the wires into your pocket. “Long time no see,” you agreed, returning his pleasant expression.

You met Younghoon just last year when he stumbled into the math tutoring center with his head held high and a notebook full of question marks. While your friends on shift at that time (Chanhee coaching someone through their linear algebra worksheet; Jungwoo yanking his hair follicles out with a group of freshmen over trigonometry) were busy, it was you who ultimately became Younghoon’s go-to calculus tutor. For the quarter that he took calculus, you helped the drama major through it.

Of course, finding a drama major in a calculus class was a rare occasion, but you both blamed the university’s awful general education requirement. Either way, you’d both found a friend and good company in one another. It didn’t help that he was terribly charismatic, and often filled the spaces in between long text messages about how to calculate the cross-section area of a vase with “good morning”s, “good luck on your midterm!”s, and corny STEM-themed one-liners.

Younghoon was the kind of guy people took home to meet their parents. Not… not that you ever thought about him like that. It was just what you overheard from this group of girls in the tutoring center once—

“I guess we both had the same idea tonight then,” he chuckled as you came to stand beside him to scour the shelf for your victim tonight.

You hummed. “I guess so,” you said. “I usually don’t see you in this area of the district though.” Because you definitely would have seen him. You lived around here, after all.

“Oh,” he grabbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “it’s a funny story actually. I dropped my friends off at a party and I went to the store near them and they had no good selection of bread.” He made a helpless gesture. “So I couldn’t just accept defeat, and now I’ve ended up here.”

You plucked a package of soft brioche from the shelf, then passed him an amused look. There was something unfair about how the harsh LED lights fell so lightly over his facial features. “I guess some form of cosmic coincidence brought us bread-lovers here.”

Younghoon knocked his bread package against yours like he was cheering a glass of champagne. “And might I say what excellent taste you have.”

That drew a laugh from you. “Ditto.”

He pursed his lips then, considering you. “So what social event are you dodging tonight, Miss Mastermind?” Younghoon’s eyebrows arched upwards at you, and you suddenly took on the sheepishness he had before. Though, you definitely noted that familiar nickname that followed his question. You wondered if that was still the name your contact was saved under in his phone. (If he even still had your contact information saved.)

You raised the palm of your hand up to hide half of your face from comical shame. “Now why would you just assume that I’m here because I’m avoiding a social call?”

“Yah,” he chided jokingly, “because I know you.” His eyes turned up to the ceiling for a moment before he added, “And you’re friends with Kim Jungwoo.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

He laughed. “Gotcha.”

“And you say I'm the mastermind?” You quipped back at him, all light-hearted. When he first dubbed you with the nickname, you hadn't known what to do about it. He claimed it was because you somehow made learning calculus fun for him—some “sorcery,” as he accused back then.

“You are!” He exclaimed with excited, wide eyes. “You've hexed me with a love for math puns and acute angles,” he groaned melodramatically, clutching his chest like his heart was about to burst for added effect.

You clicked your tongue, unable to hide your amusement. “Acute angles is a new one.”

“'Cause they remind me of a-cute-ies like you,” he said with his hand shaped into a finger gun, tongue between his teeth.

Your hand went over your face again. “I forgot that you did that.”

“You missed it!”

The smile on your face couldn't even be fully covered with your hand. Maybe you did miss it—or maybe it was just him. When the quarter had wrapped up last year and Younghoon was no longer taking calculus, neither of you had any “excuse” to be around each other anymore. Though you still had his number, you always chickened out of texting him to see how he was doing or if he wanted to hang out.

In your mind, Younghoon was always too cool for you. You didn't feel like you fit into his world.

Younghoon took your hand and drew it away from your face, a slow smile filling his lips. “There she is. You missed me.”

“If you stop asking, I will pay for your bread.”

“As if I'm going to let you do that,” he shook his head. “I'll take that as a yes.”

You both began making your way over to the counter to purchase your individual pastries. You always knew Younghoon liked bread, and you shouldn't be so surprised that he drove halfway down the district just to find a specific brioche bun. It was funny and strange how the universe worked. At times you wondered if the probability of fate could be calculated—

“So it's just you tonight?” You asked him as the two of you lingered just outside the convenience store with your freshly purchased breads in hand. You had both immediately torn into your brioche as soon as you cleared the threshold, and the fluffy pastry filled your mouth and stomach with utter joy. It was buttery and sweet and soft… perfection.

Younghoon shoved the piece in his mouth into his cheek. “For the most part, yeah,” he replied, his shoulder lifting in a half shrug. “You?”

“Yeah, Kkura's at home, but she's on call with someone. Jungwoo did invite me out to that big bonfire at the bay tonight, but…” You shook your head.

His head tilted slightly. “Oh yeah I heard about that.” For a second, he didn't say anything, and then he murmured, “Crowd anxiety.”

You hummed, eyes shooting over to his. “Hm?”

“Crowd anxiety, right?” He asked with more confidence. “I—you can correct me if I'm wrong—but I just remember you mentioning something about crowd anxiety last year.”

Your chewing slowed for a moment, and a small smile curled onto your lips. “No, you got it right.” He remembered. Of course, he remembered. A warm feeling made itself comfortable in your chest.

Younghoon seemed to brighten. “Good, I'm glad I remembered correctly,” he said while leaning his shoulder against the wall of the convenience store. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you ever happen to watch that performance of 12 Angry Jurors I recommended?”

Uh oh. You could physically feel your neurons spark at the familiar title. It was the equivalent to a bell—no, alarm—rattling around inside your noggin.

Younghoon threw his head back in a laugh at how your face rearranged into an expression of pure mortification. "You look like I just caught you with a hand in the canary cage—oh my god, you should see your face!"

You were helpless at this point, and no words were coming to your tongue to rescue you. Screw all the differential calculus—where was language ability when you needed it? “I can explain myself,” was all you came up with.

He crossed his arms over his chest, fixing you with a pointed look, albeit still amused. "I'd love to hear this."

“You know that some things just slip my mind—”

“Yes, and that's why I watched you put it into your calendar.”

“And you know that the school has a bad habit of scheduling big events on the same night—”

He cocked a brow at you, leaning forward slightly. “I don't like where this is going, you workaholic.”

You gestured at him with the piece of bread in between your fingers, and he had to cover his mouth to keep from snorting. “I am not a workaholic,” you said firmly.

“Sure you aren't,” he replied back in a tone that indicated he thought the exact opposite.

“Anyways, they put the research symposium on the same night as the last showing—”

“Ah-ha!” He cried with a triumphant finger pointed at the sky. You were convinced that any second now, he was going to start twiddling an immaculately curled mustache. “So you did procrastinate!”

You pressed your lips together as you crumpled your empty packaging, then raised a finger up to scratch your head sheepishly. “Maybe I did.”

Younghoon drew out an exhale. “Aye, I knew it. You know, I think you're just about married to your work, Yn-ah.” His mouth quirked to the side and he scratched the underside of his jaw. “But I guess that's not a bad thing.”

You gave a small wince. “You're not mad I missed the play?”

“Mad? No, of course not. It wasn't my play,” he joked. “I know you have priorities, and me being mad would just be silly.”

“But you are disappointed,” you countered pointedly.

“Disappointed for you,” he countered. “That was a pretty good performance of 12 Angry Jurors. Though… there is one part that I would have chosen to represent differently, but…” He shrugged, letting the thought float out into the ether.

“What is it?” You prompted.

His lip curled upward and he let out a little chuckle. “I'm not telling you; it'll spoil the ending!”

You were unconvinced. “I'm never gonna see the play, Hoon.”

“Not with that attitude,” he shot back.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of you from his sass that came out of left field for you. The sound of your joy made his smile widen and his eyes narrow into pretty, upturned crescent moons. The warmth all around you wasn't just from the evening's temperature. You'd forgotten just how easy it was to talk to Younghoon, and you decided that yes, you definitely missed him. But with all good things, it was written with a curtain call.

Younghoon seemed reluctant to push off of the wall and away from you. “Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer,” he said. There was a down turned angle to the corners of his smile now. “I do need to go re-find parking for when I have to go hunt my drunk friends down.”

Your laugh was small. “Good luck with that. And… don't worry about keeping me anywhere too long.”

“Thanks, and I'll keep that in mind.” His tongue stuck out between his teeth for a second, his head ducking down to shake his hair out of his eyes. “Hey, you still have my phone number, right?”

“I do.”

Whether harsh or dim lighting, it highlighted his features beautifully regardless. His eyes twinkled. “Now I know you won't ignore me if I send you another calc pun.”

“I'll look forward to it,” you promised.

The two of you were beginning to step toward your opposite directions, but failed to make your legs move any further. “Get home safe, Yn,” he murmured in goodbye. The possibility of him never reaching out crossed your mind. It wasn't like you didn't have faith that he would; rather, it was your own thoughts creeping into your head that you two came from different worlds. Despite the friendliness between you, that was the whole reason you shied away from ever reaching out. It was nothing personal against him.

EPISODE TWO: PASS GO & COLLECT TWO HUNDRED

GRAVITY reminded you of its existence when a bundle of fabric hit you square in the head. (Then again, you were always reminded of gravity’s existence when you thought about it…) “Yah—hey!” You clawed the article of fabric off your head and whirled around in your desk chair with a scowl. “Kkura!”

Sakura blinked innocently from where she stood at your closet, hand on her hip. “Put it on.”

You made a face as you straightened out the garment in your hands, the frown deepening when you realized which top it was. Or rather, which dress it was. “I haven’t seen this since I unpacked my clothes from boxes two years ago,” you whistled lowly. It was a black satin piece, something you brought along with you from home in case you ever decided to go to an event that called for a cocktail dress. Most of the formal events you attended though usually allowed you to get away with dress pants and a blouse. This poor piece of fabric had been relegated to the back of your closet since.

Your friend resumed sorting through your clothes for any alternatives or more of that kind. “I didn’t even know you owned something like that. I thought all your bottoms clung to your ankles unless they were shorts.”

“I have variety,” you sniffed and draped the dress over the back of your chair. “And what's wrong with bottoms going to my ankles? I like when they get to be warm.”

“That's what socks and shoes are for.”

“Says the girl who wears jeans that pretty much cover her shoes.”

Sakura shot you a look that reminded you of when your mother was exasperated, but she didn't want to admit that you were right. “Okay, so maybe we both have problems. But that's besides the point!” She walked away from your closet to sit herself on the edge of your bed, her hand dragging the arm of your desk chair to roll you over away from your desk. “We're going to a party tonight!”

She beamed, waving her hands around. When you only gave her a blank stare, she cleared her throat. “Ahem, I said, we're going to a party tonight! Woo!”

You pursed your lips. “Not very woo, to be honest.”

“You're not very woo,” she quipped in a deadpan.

“No, no, no!” You cut in, waving your finger back and forth. “Don't pretend like you wouldn't rather stay home than party either. And besides, you know that I don't do crowds.” You gazed off into space as if recalling the Great War with glazed-over eyes, already smelling the sweat and booze, and feeling the suffocating pressure in your chest as people squished up against you, and as you lost sight of your friend or anyone you knew for that matter, in the sea of—

“I know,” Sakura pushed out an exhale, and your eyes shuddered as you came out of that headspace. “But I think it'll be good for us. I mean, you need to get your eyes away from that grant application for one second, and I—”

“Need to stop playing League?” You suggested cheekily.

Your friend's scowl coaxed a high pitched wheezing sound out of you. She pursed her lips. “I was going to offer to hold your hand while we were in the house, but I guess not—”

“Okay, now let's not get ahead of ourselves!” You countered. The glint in Sakura's eyes when you interrupted her told you all you needed to know. Damn her cleverness; she'd got you once again.

Maybe she was the real mastermind.

Two hours later—the both of you dolled up and willpower strong (ish)—you clung to Sakura's hand as you and she slipped into the lively host house for tonight's festivities. Sweat already dampened the lines in your palm, and you moved your grip on your friend to hold onto her arm instead. You hadn't been to a house party or a frat party in a while, the last one being a birthday party for one of your friends from differential calculus turning twenty-one.

This instance was different. For one, there were far too many people packed together per square inch. And second, who thought turning down the lights was a good idea? You were already half blind as it was…

“I think we should get a drink!” Sakura shouted as she sent you an encouraging smile.

Your eyes widened as you narrowly missed getting someone's shoulder shoved into your face. “Yes, a drink sounds great!”

It was a war zone as the two of you maneuvered yourselves through the crowded living room space. The only reason people seemed to converge in that room in particular was because it had been turned into a makeshift dance floor. There were also people seated on the stairs, leaning over the upstairs landing, and meandering around in the halls.

You could feel your head begin to fog up as you unconsciously shifted closer to Sakura's side. Your friend curled her arm around your shoulders, deftly guiding you through the fray to the light at the end of the tunnel—the kitchen. There was a distinct lightening of your chest as you stepped foot into the less crowded space. The kitchen was still only dimly lit with the most minimal of light switches flipped on, but it was still enough where you could at least see your hand in front of your face and the light layer of sweat on Sakura’s brow. You made a swift scan of the area and spotted three people over by the kitchen counter, one of whom was slumped over the countertop, dozing off.

Oh, to be him right now.

“Oh, hello,” greeted one of the trio. He was stationed behind the counter like a bartender, his purple bangs brushed out of his face. The girl with him lifted her hand in a friendly wave.

“Hi, we’re not—uh, interrupting or anything?” Sakura said as your hold on her arm loosened considerably now that you were in an area that was much less crowded.

The two of them shook their heads with too much enthusiasm. “No, no! Definitely not.”

You and Sakura exchanged glances of incredulity, but didn’t push the topic any further. With pleasantries aside, the two of you excused yourselves to peruse the display of alcoholic beverages on the island space. You knew Sakura could hold her alcohol a decent amount, and so could you, so you both looked around for bottles of flavored soju to hold you over for the evening.

You dug around in one of the coolers and withdrew twin bottles of strawberry-flavored ones. “Kkura!”

Her blue-colored head perked up and she brightened as you waved your treasures around in the air. “Ooh, yay! You know, I think we should restock our stash of melon soju at home,” she mused and came over to where you were.

With your drinks secured, you each took the first sip like a shot, then linked arms to face the crowd again.

Drinking either made your anxiety rocket or relax—it depended on the beverage and the kind of day you’d had, but as you nursed your bottle for moments longer, the heaviness in your chest began to gradually recede.

The crowd anxiety you harbored was a byproduct of being the middle child of five siblings. You loved your family to bits, but sometimes home life was overwhelming. It wasn't that you got nervous around people, but more so in large bodies of people. The first year or so of your university life spent in large undergraduate lectures were absolute hell; there was an appeal to the upper division classes besides specialized interests.

But your friends were all aware and took good care of you, which you were more than grateful for.

“Is it just me—” Sakura said to you loudly with blue and purple lights painting her features, “—or does this soju taste really good tonight?”

You smacked your lips together as you savored the sweet taste. “You're definitely right,” you said. “We might have to go back for more.”

“If we can remember how to get there,” she giggled.

“Wait, what's in here?” You steered the two of you into a doorway to your left.

From the looks of the massive table stretching from one end to the next, you had stumbled upon the dining room. The room was large enough for there to be a few different groups of people occupying sections, but the largest one took reign over the farthest end. Your eyes widened in delight when you recognized two people in particular. “Oh wow.”

“Yn?” Chanhee exclaimed in disbelief. He was partly hunched over what looked like a board game as his deft fingers counted out paper money. “You're here?”

Everyone—well, almost everyone—turned their heads to see who Chanhee was talking about. Nonetheless, there were still quite the amount of eyes looking at you and you felt your palms begin to get sweaty around your bottle neck.

Younghoon gasped. “YN!” He grinned, lumbering over with his jelly-like limbs, tripping over people's legs and chairs. You could see the alcohol in his expression before you smelled it, but you couldn't just not hug him when he wrapped his arms around you in greeting. You hadn't seen him since last week at the convenience store but even then, the surprise had yet to escape you. What a cosmic coincidence.

“Hey, Hoon,” you chuckled in amusement, patting his back affectionately. You didn't know he would be so affectionate when drunk, but then again, this was the first time you were experiencing him like this.

“Big guy's a little drunk,” Sakura observed, then lifted her bottle to her lips. “Are you guys playing Monopoly?”

One of the guys, who looked the most of sound mind and state, nodded. “Yeah. D'you guys wanna play?”

Younghoon placed his hands on your shoulders with a goofy grin slipping onto his face as he pulled away. “You should play with us! Guys—” he announced to his friends, “—this is my bestest friend, Yn!”

“And her friend, Sakura,” you cut in, gesturing to Sakura with jazz hands.

“And we would love to play,” Sakura added.

You passed her a glance. There was mischief dancing in her eyes. You supposed at least you knew what you were getting into before jumping into any game with the Miyawaki Sakura. These poor chumps never stood a chance.

“Okay, but Chanhee's the iron,” remarked one of the other boys while you, Sakura, and Younghoon made your way over to where they all were gathered.

You snorted at Chanhee's less than pleased expression. “Why does he insist that you be the flat iron?” You nudged your friend. You met Chanhee and Jungwoo in a shared freshman differential calculus class where the three of you weathered the war together.

Chanhee sighed, his tongue poking his cheek. “Because apparently I have no ass.”

“BECAUSE YOU DON'T!”

“NEITHER DO YOU!”

With none of that settled, a good majority of the people present gathered around the Monopoly board on the table to play. You, Sakura, and Chanhee all clambered onto the dining table to sit while the others rounded the end of the table. It also gave you a little room to breathe while playing with such a large group.

“Ladies first,” declared one of the boys, who's name you learned was Sunwoo, his eyes at half mast and cheeks flushed like red grapefruit.

“If you insist,” Sakura sang and did a little dance as she swiped the dice up to roll.

You placed a hand over your eyes jokingly. “Look away!”

Haknyeon blinked with his eyes wide. “Why?”

“Because she's about to win faster than you can say pass go and collect two hundred.”

In retrospect, you saw this coming. Even if the universe could construct more possible futures than you had atoms on the tip of your pinky finger, you definitely could have seen this coming.

The aftermath immediately following Sakura's utter domination of the Monopoly board left all of her opponents in a sputtering mess. Your friend dusted her fingers off as if there were crumbs on them, a very satisfied Cheshire's cat grin crawling onto her lips. “You can fight it or just accept it,” she shrugged, taking the last swing of her soju.

Eric stared up at her from where he knelt in front of the table, gripping the edge with his palms. He was all wide-eyed and full of wonder. “Teach me your ways.”

“If you get me another soju,” she offered, gesturing with her empty bottle. She probably didn’t expect him to take her up on the offer, because her eyes widened a comical amount when the kid rocketed up to his feet and darted out of the room, faster than she could blink.

“Is he usually like that, so hyper?” You jested to Chanhee as you and he began reorganizing the paper money.

Your pink-haired friend laughed. “Kind of. Youngjae's cute.”

“And what am I, Channieeee?” Came an inebriated Changmin. He teetered over to where you and Chanhee were, then unceremoniously draped himself over the latter's back.

“Ahhhhhh,” Chanhee groaned, “Ji Changmin!”

“Answer my question!” His friend slurred. “I think Yn thinks I'm cute. D'you think I'm cute?” He asked, gazing up with you in a deep pout and puppy dog eyes.

“Don't answer that question, Yn. It's like making a deal with the Devil.”

Changmin scoffed, straightening to a surprisingly perfect posture. He slapped a hand to his chest in offense. “How could you! Chanhee-ssi! We're supposed to be friends!”

You chuckled, leaning out of that dumpster fire of a conversation, and finding yourself in the company of one very loopy bread enthusiast. Younghoon had slipped back from watching the game about three quarters of the way through and slumped into a chair with a can of beer and his phone. At some point, you had given up on Monopoly, too, and considered joining him. Now, you really did move over to join him.

His head perked up when you leaned over and poked his shoulder, a smile coming to his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled back. “Tired?”

He gave a slow, drawn-out nod. “Mhm,” he hummed. He lifted the can of beer to his lips and finished it off, then dropped his phone into his lap so he could rest his face between his hands. “I'm kind of hungry.”

You laughed. “I bet. How much did you drink, Hoon?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged.

“Long week?”

“Veeeery long week,” he nodded. “Like…” He spread his arms to his full wingspan, “this much.”

A giggle bubbled out of your mouth at how adorable he was when he was drunk.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “Oh my gosh, Yn! I never sent you the joke I found,” he frowned. “I found it and thought about sending it to you, but then…”

“You forgot?” You offered.

“I just didn't wanna bother you, to be honest.”

Oh. Something in you softened a great deal at the confession. You were always so sure that you would have been the bother, because it was difficult to imagine that someone who seemed so sure of himself like Younghoon might also feel the same. You mimicked his position with your hands holding up your face. “You're never a bother, Younghoon.”

“Even when I ask dumb questions about factoring?”

“There is no such thing as a dumb question.”

He pursed his lips into a line, unconvinced. “You're too nice. No wonder I liked doing math homework.”

You laughed again at the unexpected compliment, and Younghoon smiled to himself. “I'm glad you enjoyed doing your calc homework.”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then snapped it shut with wide, doe-like eyes. “I was going to say a joke, but I realized that I probably shouldn't say that one in particular.”

“Wow, you have a filter when you're drunk?” You teased.

“Hey!” He pretended to sulk. “I'm not that drunk!”

A beat passed, and then he said, “I am still hungry though.” Yeah, definitely drunk.

Within fifteen minutes, you convinced Sakura to accompany you and Younghoon to the convenience store a couple blocks from your apartment. The three of you together managed to snag Chanhee to drive you all, as well as Changmin as an accessory since he and Chanhee lived together. Younghoon had once again insisted on this place in particular because he thoroughly enjoyed the brioche bun from the other day and had been missing it since. You and he settled down at the seating area in the corner of the store with your freshly-purchased bread, while the others traipsed around in search of other sustenance.

Younghoon's cheeks were full of brioche as he muttered a muffled, “You know why I like—calculus jokes?” He swallowed his bite, his eyebrows braiding together as he stared at his now empty package.

You quietly plucked the empty bag out of his hands and replaced it with yours.

He melted at the action. “I do.”

You bursted into a fit of giggles and Younghoon followed straight after you. Your face filled with fire and his bloomed like a blood red rose. The alcohol was slowly settling in. You were a lot more refreshed now that you were outside of the crowd setting, and your chest felt much lighter. “You do?”

“I do,” he reaffirmed, tearing the last bit of bread apart for you both to share instead. “You know why I like—” he hiccupped with the bread half in his mouth. His face morphed into one of confusion, then utter disdain.

You stifled a laugh with your bite of carbs. “Why do you like calculus jokes, Younghoon?” You asked to help him out.

He swallowed his bite. “Because—trig jokes are too graphic and algebra ones are too for—” He hiccupped again, his eyes shooting up toward the ceiling in exasperation.

“Formulaic?” You offered.

Younghoon frowned. “You know this one?”

“I enjoy guessing.”

“Hm,” he grunted, unconvinced. “There is one outlier though.” When he hiccupped for the third time, you patiently waited for him to fill in the blank. “Statistics.”

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I have to say, that was very subtle but very good.”

Younghoon beamed with pride. “I knew you would get i—” Another hiccup. He deadpanned. “I hate this.”

You stood up with a chuckle. “Let me get you some water.”

“Thanks,” he pouted. You felt his eyes on you the whole time you went over to the free water cooler over at the counter, and even as you brought him back the little paper cup of liquid.

As he drained the cup, you lingered next to where he sat rather than sitting back down. “Better?” You asked, then held your hand out to take the cup back if he wanted more.

He shook his head though, and he raised it up to his eyes while squinting one of them to aim it at the trash can behind your seat. “How do I get this exactly inside the trash?”

You blinked, eyeballing the distance between his seat and the trash can. The paper cup wasn't going to have a lot of weight while it was empty, but if he threw it with the opening facing him instead…

Younghoon made a noise that sounded a lot like a child's giggle. “Hehe, you're actually doing the math in your head.”

“You don't know that,” you muttered.

“Of course I know that.” He shucked the paper cup and it landed in the trash can with a clean swish sound. He threw his hands in the air. “Woo! Crowd goes wild.”

You laughed and slid back into your seat. “See, you didn't need math to get the cup into the trash can. Nice throw, Hoon.”

He grinned at you. “Thanks. You know how I knew you were doing the math in your head?”

“How?” You humored him amiably.

“Because you get this cute little wrinkle between your eyes, riiiight there—” He leaned forward and booped the place between your eyes, making you go cross-eyed for a split second. “—when you're processing info.”

“Processing info makes me sound like a computer,” you joked.

“Too bad you're not a keyboard,” he said with a sigh, “you'd be just my type.”

An unnaturally loud guffaw came out of your mouth and you slapped your hand over it. There was far too much mirth between the two of you right now. “You're telling me you're good at this drunk, too?” You shook your head, the laugh lingering on your tongue, “Y'know what? I shouldn't be surprised.”

If Younghoon could come up with pick-up lines to remember how to do calculus sober, then you should not have underestimated him drunk.

“Changmin, can you put the plunger down before we get kicked out?” Your head turned toward the sound of Chanhee's pure exhaustion as the three others rounded the corner. You imagined Chanhee dealt with drunk Changmin more than a few times to sound so exasperated. You didn't even want to know what Changmin was doing with the plunger.

Sakura, Chanhee, and Changmin bumbled over to where you and Younghoon sat, the supposed plunger nowhere to be seen. Chanhee brushed a lock of pink out of his eyes with a deep sigh. “Alright; shall we?”

EPISODE THREE: DO AS THE PHYSICISTS DO

THE hungrier Younghoon woke up, the more he likely had to drink the night prior. His stomach growled something horrific and he groaned, rolling his body over to squish his face into his pillow. There were no trains of thought running through his mind at the moment; there was only blissful quiet. And hunger. Goddamn it, he was hungry.

With a huff, he dragged himself upright as if he were rising from the dead. He gave his head a rough shake, eyes bleary as he blinked once… then twice… Oh, yuck. Sticky eyelashes.

There was something white on his desk that caught his eye. There was a yellow sticky note marked with Chanhee's chicken scratch beside it: Yn sent you home with this bottle of painkillers. In case you don't remember, lol.

Dear god, it was coming back to him now.

Younghoon lowered himself down onto the edge of his bed and dragged a hand down his face. Had he been weird? Did you think he was weird now?

His phone was buried somewhere beneath his mess of sheets, and he pulled up your contact that he still had saved from last year. The last message sent was from a brief conversation you both had after his calculus final about what you were both doing when you went home for the winter break. He could feel the warmth creeping up to his cheeks from his neck as he typed out the first message to you since: heyy… about last night…

It was a bit of a surprise when he saw your reply come in nearly straight away.

miss mastermind: LOL good morning, did u sleep okay? younghoon's phone: decently ig 😅 thanks for the painkillers btw i will def take a couple of those miss mastermind: yeah no worries younghoon's phone: how bad was i last night, yn 😭 u can tell me miss mastermind: 😭 u weren't that bad… okay maybe u started singing the calculus parody of bohemian rhapsody on the way to my apartment…

Younghoon snickered into his palm as he stared at the messages on the screen. That memory was definitely rolling back into his head now. It was that, along with the Monopoly game, then the convenience store, and finally, the walk to yours and Sakura's apartment before Chanhee dropped him off here.

miss mastermind: i can't say im too surprised u remembered it tho 😭 sometimes i forget that ur trained to remember things younghoon's phone: that's a funny way to describe being an actor LMAO younghoon's phone: but also i'd be lying if i didn't admit that im so embarrassed abt last night miss mastermind: nooo don't be!! it's all good, i thought u were a very cute drunk

He smiled against his hand. He typed: Well now I just have to make it up to you.

miss mastermind: u absolutely do not younghoon's phone: actually i do younghoon's phone: if i recall correctly, u gave me the rest of ur BREAD. that's like…|

He paused, having nearly written “marriage proposal.” Quickly backspacing, he replaced it with “donating an organ.” Maybe he was a little delusional, but he could've sworn he heard your laugh echoing in his head after he sent it and saw the indicator appear that you were typing. He reached over to grab the bottle of painkillers as he monitored your texts coming in.

miss mastermind: DONATING AN ORGAN… miss mastermind: yk, i knew u liked bread, but not THIS much younghoon's phone: but ofc :0 she's my first love miss mastermind: understood o7 now ik how to sway ur judgment ☝️ younghoon's phone: le gasp younghoon's phone: truly evil mastermind things only miss mastermind: the le gasp is taking me out 😭 younghoon's phone: how abt /i/ take u out instead 😗

As soon as he sent it, he grimaced. Oh no, this was going to be taken out of context. You were going to go through the whole “sorry, I'm not really interested in you” talk, and he would have to sit through it pretending like it didn't hurt—he didn't mean for it to sound like that. You were just friends after all.

younghoon's phone: I MEAN LIKE younghoon's phone: for watching over me and humoring me last night yk! it doesn't have to be something fancy either, just something that we can do as friends! and to say thanks

His grimace deepened. Those clarification texts did nothing to help his case. It also did not calm his nerves when you failed to respond immediately like you had been for the past few minutes. “Well, you've done it now,” he muttered to himself as he frowned down at the screen.

For a couple minutes, there was nothing from your end and he forced himself to drag his ass off the bed in search of sustenance. Hyunjae's door was closed, so the rest of the apartment was quiet as he bounded out of his room toward the kitchen. Periodically (read: every couple seconds), Younghoon would glance at his phone screen waiting for your reply. “What are you scared of?” He said to himself as he opened the fridge and scratched his jaw. “You literally came up with pick-up lines for calculus terms with her.”

There were leftovers from a couple nights ago, and Younghoon grabbed those to heat up. He closed the refrigerator with his hip, eyes darting to his phone, only to see his screen light up. He dropped the leftover container on the counter and scooped the device up.

miss mastermind: i really don't think it's necessary to pay it back or anything, but we can def hang out! miss mastermind: also sorry my sister stole my phone TT but i got it back haha It was sad how fast relief flushed through him at that moment. younghoon's phone: oh no dw abt it lol ur with family rn? miss mastermind: i am! my aunt's in town and so i was summoned home for brunch 🤧 younghoon's phone: …is there :’)) uhm french toast :’)) miss mastermind: *sent a photo* younghoon's phone: that was cruel. miss mastermind: HAHAHA SORRY 😭

Younghoon stuck his leftovers into the microwave to heat up, but was suddenly craving French toast. He knew for certain he didn't have everything to make it right this second though. Maybe he would wake Hyunjae up to go impromptu grocery shopping.

younghoon's phone: i don't wanna keep u away from ur family any longer, but lmk if u have any preferences for what we should do together miss mastermind: no prefs in particular and dw, talking to u helps distract me from the amount of chaos happening in this house :’) miss mastermind: i do have to go now tho unfortunately :l my sister looks like she's abt to snatch my phone again 😭 younghoon's phone: LOL 😭 okay i'll talk to u soon then younghoon's phone: enjoy ur toast :/ miss mastermind: HAHA i'll save u a slice hoon 😋

The microwave beeped its conclusion, and Younghoon pulled the piping hot bowl of leftover food out. As he took a stab at it with his fork, he came to the swift conclusion that he was not going to be full on this. As he shoveled the food into his mouth, he started toward Hyunjae's room to give his friend a very rude awakening. “HYUNJAE! WE NEED FRENCH TOAST!”

There was no better place than the convenience store at the ripe timestamp of ten o'clock to meet with a friend. You'd gotten back from your house at around four o'clock in the afternoon, so you weren't too tired, though the cleanup and all the social interaction was threatening to take you out. Any school work or grant application work would have to wait until tomorrow.

Nonetheless, you felt a giddy sort of excitement bubble up in you as you hustled yourself down the street to the convenience store to meet Younghoon. In your hands, you clutched a small, sandwich-sized Tupperware container with a slice of holy French toast within. It was your older brother's favorite thing to make when he had to contribute to a brunch (or, let's face it, any meal) spread.

Younghoon had never been tardy to your tutoring sessions last year, so you weren't surprised when you saw him seated at your usual table in the corner. He glanced up from his phone as you walked in, waving. There was a blue colored beanie over his head and a brown corduroy jacket draped over his shoulders.

He noted the container in your hands and his eyes widened like saucers. “You did not.”

“I told you I would save you a piece,” you said sheepishly as you set the container down in front of him and took a seat.

“You—” His bottom lip jutted out. “I can't accept this.”

“You have to. It has your name on it,” you insisted, pointing out the little “Younghoon” scrawled on the side in Sharpie with a smiley face. It was customary in your household to write names on containers if they weren't already color coded or marked with a label. Label makers cost more than Sharpies did, and most of the time, your family didn't mind scrubbing the ink off if needed.

Younghoon's smile was sweet like the pastry sitting in the Tupperware. “I literally made French toast as soon as we stopped texting.”

You laughed. “No way.”

“Yes way! I dragged Hyunjae's ass out of bed,” he told you with great energy, eyes alight as he recalled his late morning antics to you. “I really didn't expect that you would bring me a slice, Yn, you sweetheart.”

“We had lots of leftovers and I just knew the most enthusiastic bread fanatic I knew had to try some of my big brother's toast,” you told him, pleased with his reaction.

He seemed at a loss for words; he just kept looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and you wondered how you could replicate this reaction over and over again. “Thank you,” was what he settled on. “I—” He gestured to the container, to you, to the container, “It means a lot.”

“You're welcome,” you said simply.

Younghoon heaved a great sigh and stood up. “Now I have to buy you some snacks—no. Yn, sit your ass down.”

Your eyes widened a comical amount and you plopped yourself back onto the chair.

His lips wiggled as he held back a smile. “Don't move.”

“You don't have to do this, Hoon,” you shook your head as he began making his way over to the aisles.

“What's that rule in chemistry? Energy can neither be created nor destroyed?” He queried from within the drinks aisle.

“The first law of thermodynamics,” you supplied. “It's not just chemistry though. It's relevant in all the sciences.” You weren't sure where he was going with this.

“Yeah, well—” He paused. You couldn't see him from where you were, but even the rustling noises stopped. “Shit, that's not the right rule.”

You bit back a laugh. Oh, he was too adorable.

“What's the one where equal and opposite and…?”

Your brain tripped. “Uh, the—the 'for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction’ one?”

More crinkling. “Aha! That's the one. Yeah, so for your actions, I must do as the physicists do, and react accordingly.”

Younghoon returned to you with an entire treasure trove of goodies that you swore amounted to more than what was due. (That number to you was technically zero, but for Younghoon's insistence, it was slightly over zero… maybe one one-thousandth.) It was a smorgasbord of peach drinks with lychee jelly, potato chips, daifuku mochi, and of course, bread buns. It was a feast in its own right. You both dove straight into the snacks before you. When life gave one lemons, one was to make lemonade.

Younghoon popped a chip into his mouth. “Do you come here often? Is this your hangout spot?” He suddenly asked, then dipped his hand into the bag and waved a chip around in the air, a quizzical kink in his brow. “I mean, you do live close by and you seem to be very familiar with the place.”

You screwed the cap of your bottle of juice back on and wiggled your fingers as you surveyed what snack to eat next. “I do hang out here often—you’re right,” you replied. The daifuku looked very appetizing right about now. “I've been coming by since school started to knock out my grant app.”

He perked up curiously. “Grant app?”

“It's for the Space Grant.” In partnership with the national space organization, your university offered something called the Space Grant, which would grant three applicants with a monetary award that could be used toward their education in aerospace. You'd had your eye on it even before you began attending this school, and you were determined to be one of the three who won it this year.

After you briefed him on the cause of much of your recent stress, Younghoon gave an indulging nod. “Mmmmh, I see. You're still aerospace engineering then, right?”

“Yep,” you chirped. “me and propulsion theory to the end. I guess I'm an airplane kid.” At the latter, you made a face. You were the space version of an airplane kid… the alternate of train kids and car kids…

“Don't think about it too much,” he said with corners of his smile peeking out on either side of where he pressed his fist against his lips.

You tried not to. “How about you? What have you been up to?”

He breathed out an exhale. “Hm? Oh, like, with drama?”

“Sure, anything and everything about you.” You leaned your cheek against your fist and peered over at him. “We've been talking about me too much.”

“Nonsense,” he tsked. “You already know I recite lines, dabble in the hilariously good pun on occasion, and am incredibly obsessed with carbohydrates.”

“What more could I possibly wanna know?” You played along.

“Exactly.” He chuckled then, tongue darting out for a second to wet his lips. “Jokes aside, nothing too much. Hyunjae's best friend, HJ!Yn—she’s a director and writer, and she's putting on her own play in the spring that I'll be auditioning for.”

Your eyebrows arched in interest. “Oh? What's it about?”

“No clue.”

You nodded. “Ah, well, good luck—or, break a leg. People say that, right? It's not just in movies?”

“People do say that, yes,” he affirmed. “And thank you. I'm gonna start a part-time teaching job at a school nearby for their theater program, which I think will be fun.”

“That does sound fun,” you agreed. Because you had two younger siblings yourself, you knew that taking care of young ones was a lot, but if anyone could do it, you knew Younghoon could. You imagined he would do quite well with them. “Let me know when they have a performance!”

His eyes twinkled in the fluorescent lights; you were beginning to grow more accustomed to the way the harsh brightness painted his features softer. “You have to promise to come though. This is more important than 12 Angry Jurors.”

You placed a hand against your heart in playful solemnity. “I, Yn Ln, do solemnly swear that I will try my very best to make it to see their performance.”

He cleared his throat, his expression falling into an expertly grave facade. “I accept your promise,” he said and extended his hand out to you across the table, “shake my hand, and may the deal never be broken.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking out of character as you shook his hand. When you'd both withdrawn your hands, you watched him, fascinated, as he exited out of character. It was like a switch had been flicked off behind his eyes. Crazy.

Satisfied, Younghoon laced his fingers beneath his chin with a giddy, little smile on his face. “I'll save you an aisle seat.”

“I appreciate that,” you said. You really did—and he really remembered.

“And I'll make silly faces at you from the curtain wings.”

You laughed, telling him you couldn't wait.

EPISODE FOUR: TRAINS GO BOOM?

THERE were too many fires to put out at once. You were becoming the humanoid version of that dog in a burning house meme, and you didn't like it. It was not fine.

“Girl, I wish you'd told me, like, three weeks ago—”

You tasted the rejection a mile out.

“—I already committed to this robotics thing that night,” Jungwoo cried in anguish as he threw his head back. “I could've gone to the Space Gala! Instead, I'm watching people play with robots.”

You passed him a sympathetic look. “Robots are cool.”

“But I don't even get to do anything! I can only spectate!” You both stopped in the middle of your walk as he made unintelligible noises and gesticulations. Jungwoo grabbed your shoulders and shook them. “YN! WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? I have to pay to watch people have fun.”

Your head was wobbling back and forth like a bobble head. Thank god for spines. “Woo—I’m gonna be honest—”

He stopped shaking you.

“I have no idea,” you said to him. “But we are in the same boat.”

The two of you were currently situated on the engineering side of campus. Most of the buildings around you were geared toward the great spectrum of engineering students—from electrical and computer, to aerospace and nautical. You just got out of a numericals simulation course and caught up with Jungwoo coming out of the engineering library to present to him your newest dilemma.

Jungwoo's posture sank. “I only have regrets after pursuing MechE.”

You pursed your lips, lamely patting him on the shoulder. “I told you aero is cooler.”

“I won't dignify that with an answer,” he sulked. Jungwoo picked himself up, however, as he always did. He carded a hand through his floppy brown bangs, eyes flickering down to his phone screen before his eyeballs nearly fell out of his socket. “Oh shit—I’m gonna be late to advanced mathematics. Chanhee is gonna murder me.”

He bumped your shoulder with the back of his hand. “Good luck on finding a plus one, Yn-ie!”

“Good luck getting there before Chanhee,” you hollered back.

Jungwoo threw you an expression that needed no subtitles, but fitting ones would read, That was so unnecessary!

As your friend sprinted in one direction, you began walking in the opposite direction. You had a little more than a couple hours before your next lecture, so you could probably either walk around and enjoy the day's nice weather or find a place to work. All bets were off when you felt your phone buzz from your pocket, and you saw the message on the screen. It was a text from your older sister: hey mom's asking if u have something to wear to the wedding lol.

The “LOL” at the end really downplayed how much stress this was going to give you. The entire event of The Wedding had slipped from your mind over the past week—actually, you were pretty sure you forgot the moment you got back into your car to drive home from brunch last weekend.

If you thought you had a large immediate family, your extended one would silence all thoughts instantly. One of your cousins-in-law was getting married in December, which meant you needed to find an outfit and mentally prepare yourself for the amount of people there were going to be in one room.

The Wedding made you anxious.

You shot your sister a frazzled text back. It was something along the lines of: maybe… lemme check the back of my closet… or pray I have funds in my bank account.

You somehow made your way to one of the green spaces on campus. It wasn't the main lawn that people picnicked or hung out on, but it was still just as beautiful as the main one. It also sat right by the café located down here in the engineering corner; you and your friends liked to loiter around here when the weather was nice.

It was exactly why you thought you were hallucinating when you saw Younghoon walking toward you.

“Younghoon?” You voice incredulously. “What're you doing here?”

He beamed at you, reaching a hand up to cup the back of his neck. “Oh, you know, just taking a walk and enjoying this nice, autumn weather…”

“Down in the engineering buildings?”

He sniffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I wasn't purposely trying to look for you or anything,” he said and rocked back and forth on his heels.

You didn't need to know rocket science to read him. “Okay,” you drawled. “Say I believe you.”

“Divine coincidence,” he shrugged helplessly, jovially, even. His eyes were upturned in cute crescent moons. “Oh! And would you look at that—” He swung his backpack around to the front of his body and withdrew your plastic container from its depths, empty and clean, with even his sharpied name scrubbed off. “I just happened to have this on me.”

You sputtered out a laugh and accepted the container from him. “How funny that this pattern of events keeps happening.”

“Pfft, I know, right?” He brushed a hand through his hair. “So, uh, what're you up to?”

“What am I up to?” You parroted. “Not sure, to be honest. I've got a couple hours to kill. What about you?”

Younghoon gestured to the walkway that bordered the perimeter of the engineering lawn. You fell into step beside one another. “Nothing much, too. I kind of just needed a little walk outside to clear my head.”

You sighed, nodding. “I get that.”

“That sounded… very heavy,” he said, passing you a glance. “Something on your mind, Mastermind?”

“Oh, well,” you trailed off, uncertain of where to begin or how to begin. It seemed like Younghoon had something on his mind, too, and you didn't want to give him something else to hold onto. But when you looked over at him, there was a concentrated, concerned furrow in his brow; he was nowhere else but present with you.

You clasped the back of your neck and felt the knot in your muscles. “There's this thing.”

“Mhm.”

“Colloquially, it's referred to as the Space Gala, but it's kind of just an evening prepared by the Space Grant Consortium with a bunch of booths and a Q&A panel—things like that.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Wow, a whole consortium?”

“Yup.” You'd been a member of the student club associated with the consortium since freshman year, not just to keep up to date with information about the space grant, but because you enjoyed attending the events and learning about new innovations related to your desired field. “And it's a little formal where everyone dresses nicely to a degree, and each member can bring a plus one. Usually, Sakura comes with me, but something just came up for her that she can't avoid so—” You made a helpless gesture with your hands.

It was no fault of her own that she couldn't avoid the personal matter that came for her. You just needed to find someone to go with you now, but finding someone on such short notice was proving to be less than swift.

“Ah,” Younghoon said in understanding. “You'd like to attend with someone you're comfortable with because it's a large gathering of people, and—when is it?”

“Next Friday,” you grimaced.

He blinked. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah.”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “Hey, I mean, if you're looking for someone to go with—I dunno if you're comfortable with me compared to your closer friends—and I don't want to seem as if I'm inviting myself, but—”

“Younghoon,” you cut in with the knots in your neck and shoulders suddenly dissipating. You pressed your hands together, touching them to your lips. “Would you like to go to the Space Gala with me?”

The most beautiful smile blossomed onto his face then, and you swore to go it was warmer than the sun's beams. For a second, his cheekbones darkened with something bashful, but it was hidden in the blink of an eye, and you were met again with the charming Younghoon you knew well. “Why, there's nothing I would love to do more.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” he laughed. “I'm happy to go with you, Yn. I mean, what does Sakura usually do to help you when you're in crowded places?”

Hold my hand. That thought was immediately cast aside. That was probably far too much. You coughed, “Uhm, just—you know—stick around me. I get kind of overwhelmed when there are a lot of people around.”

“Overstimulation?” He offered sympathetically.

“I suppose that's the word I'm looking for.”

Younghoon nodded. “Okay. Hey, that's okay. You just tell me what I need to do to make you feel safe and I'll do it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you couldn't figure out the right words to express your gratitude. It was hard not to downplay your own misgivings; it took time to practice being patient with yourself. “Thanks, Hoon. I don't really… know what to say, but I really do appreciate it.”

“You don't have to say anything,” he said easily. “And I think, personally, I'm a great plus one.”

If only all of your troubles in life could be fixed so simply by Kim Younghoon being your plus one.

Your stroll together took you down toward the environmental science building. It was a path through a heavily forested area, though a little strange even being located somewhere south of the main campus. The paved sidewalk faded into a worn dirt path, and sunlight filtered in through the layers of leaves crisscrossing overhead.

“I've spilled my guts,” you piped up, “now what's on your mind?” You added swiftly, “If you're comfortable with sharing.”

Younghoon blew out an exhale from his mouth. “You know that job I mentioned? The one where I'm working with a youth theater program nearby?”

You nodded. “Yeah, how's that going, by the way?”

“I'm not sure,” he admitted with his mouth shifted to the side. “I had my first day with them on Wednesday, and I'm seeing them again today. I think I'm just nervous that they'll get bored of me.”

Ah, you could understand that. Surely your years helping out with your younger siblings could lend some use. It was rare to see Younghoon in this state of unease, and it was even more rare to think of someone who wouldn't like him. Seeing him troubled even a little made your stomach churn, and you wanted to help find a solution. “How old are they?”

“They’re all older primary school kids,” he said. “Young enough to not be scary middle schoolers and old enough to have some kind of attention span.”

You smiled to yourself. “Oh, I know exactly what you're talking about.”

“I knew you would.” He brightened. “You have younger siblings, don't you? Any chance one of them wants to become an actor?”

“Oh, hm,” you murmured, “Sadie's got her eyes set on ballet right now and I think Quincey's really only fascinated about his trains. They can be swayed though, I'm sure.”

“How do I keep a kid's interest though?”

You wish you had a formula for that. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “To be so honest with you, kids just like learning about dangerous shit.”

Younghoon wheezed. “What?”

You grabbed his shoulder as you both stopped in the walkway so he would face you. “Listen—no, I'm being serious, Younghoon!” You were trying to get a hold of this man as if you weren't gradually losing it, too. “Do you know how many times my little brother has made his trains go boom?”

“Yn.”

“He has problems, I know; he's like, four and a half or something.”

Younghoon's eyes were filled with mirth as he pressed his knuckles against his mouth. “Yn, do you know how insane that sounds?”

Your eyes shuddered in a blink. “Huh?”

He grappled onto your shoulders with another wheeze, eyes moist with laughter and a twinge of something else you couldn't process. “Yn, are you free next Friday at three?”

“Yeah?”

“Come with me to see the kids?”

“Okay.”

His tongue ran over his teeth as he grinned. Younghoon's head dipped in a nod, and he dropped his hands to the side. You didn't know what the hell just happened, but you had a feeling a solution was very much found.

EPISODE FIVE: TO INFINITY & BEYOND

“PLEASE tell me you're leaving the medieval torture devices out of the discussion.”

You passed him a look from the passenger's side of Younghoon's Prius. (It was objectively hilarious to watch this man fold his long limbs up to get in and out of this car; you didn’t know how the laws of nature even allowed a human with his height to own and drive one of these things.) “You say that like you were sure I wasn't.”

It was currently the Friday following, and the day you and Younghoon would both be each other's plus ones. Presently, you were in his car as he drove you both over to the elementary school where he was part-timing. Once this class was over, you would split off to prepare for tonight's Space Gala before meeting again at the venue on campus.

He turned his signal on as he pulled into the parking lot. “I'm just making sure.” He glanced over at you. “Are you excited?”

“To have about two dozen pairs of eyes on me?” You had faced crowds before and they weren't your forte, but you supposed if they were all bite-sized people this time, it wouldn't be so bad. Plus, Younghoon said they would be sitting down and working in groups most of the time anyways. The appeal of this crowd was that you didn't have to worry about getting swept up.

“They're all nice kids,” he said as if consoling you. “It'll be fun!”

“But I can talk about the trebuchet, right?” You asked after he parked and you were clambering out of the car. That one time you went down a fascinating rabbithole of medieval machinery was about to come in handy.

Younghoon paused with his hand on the top of his door. “That wasn't the one with the horse-pulling, was it?”

“Oh, definitely not.”

He locked the door and the two of you began walking side by side to cross the parking lot. There was a plastic clipboard in his hand made of a material in a shade of translucent neon green, something you expected a PE teacher would carry around, except this clipboard was armed with scripts and instructor notes. The little drama program at this school was currently only an after-school occurrence, but if this all went well, they might be granted permission from the school to start integrating it into everyday classes. It was exciting—you could remember your first years of exposure to things like liquid nitrogen ice cream, egg drop competitions, and the National Geographic issue called Astronauts. Perhaps in another life you would've been an astronaut, rather than the engineer who designed the vessel that would take them into space.

Needless to say, these were some of their most impressionable years, and Younghoon was going to be a big part of these kids’. It made you warm and fuzzy inside.

Sometime between today and last week, Younghoon brought you up to speed on what the kids were currently working on. The head instructor picked out something from an adapted version of How to Train Your Dragon, which in all honesty, was cool as fuck. Immediately, thoughts about how to build a harness apparatus for an actual dragon model came to your mind, but you would need to take a look at the dimensions of the stage and preferably leave flamethrowers out of the end result. That was if you were allowed to or even had the time to.

It would be fun though. Of course it was going to be fun.

Younghoon was the first one to enter the auditorium room. It was a multipurpose building with a large, open concept space lined in carpet with a stage at the furthest end and the doors to the library across the way. With the impending introduction, you stuck behind your friend as he poked his head in. Instant squeals of delight erupted at the sight of him. (He was kidding when he said he was worried about the kids ever getting bored of him, right?) “Younghoon!”

Younghoon’s smile was so big that you could see it even when his face was half turned. “Hi everyone—I brought a friend today. Let’s give her a nice, warm welcome, hm?” Younghoon stepped completely into the room now, his hand coming over to gently sweep you in with him by your shoulder. “This is Yn.”

You raised your hand in a small, awkward wave, a greeting somehow managing to come out of your mouth. There were so many little ones present and they were all sitting in a misshapen blob in the middle of the carpet, their backpacks lined up against one of the side walls. Interacting with children who weren’t your siblings or relatives was a lot different.

“Oh my gosh,” you heard one of them gasp. “Is she his partner?”

“No, she is not my partner—she’s a friend,” Younghoon replied pointedly. “Boys and girls can be friends, Roni.”

There was a boy with a gray colored Lightning McQueen jacket on who said, “That’s exactly what my brother said before he asked his best friend to be boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Well. You angled your head toward your counterpart and murmured to him, “How old did you say these kids were?”

“Now you know why I needed your help,” he joked. “Their brains run too fast.”

“And you think the two of ours can measure up?”

Another small one—she had her dark hair in twin pigtails, knotted off with bows—raised her hand. “Are you an actor like Younghoon?”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself as if there was someone else she could’ve been asking. “Oh, no, I don’t have the skillset to be an actor,” you mused. “I basically make airplanes and rockets.” Basically.

A flurry of excitement kicked up like a snowstorm, and you could feel your skin warm at the sudden increase in energy. Perhaps you should have led with that..? But even so, it was abrupt, and you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself—

Younghoon cleared his throat, “Hey guys, let’s keep our noise level down, please.”

In response to his request, the kids miraculously managed to quiet themselves down to a buzzing chatter. It hit you at that moment; Younghoon wasn’t just good with kids—he was incredible. Why did he ever think he needed your help when you could barely stutter out a sentence about what you did instead of acting?

“I told Yn about the show we’re putting on,” he said with everyone’s attention now settled on him, including yours, “and she was very excited about seeing it.”

“Is she gonna make us fly?” Someone asked with their eyes wide and big, and you swore you could fit the whole Milky Way within the awe that was in their irises. Kids, man.

“Only if you guys do good today,” Younghoon said. “Why don’t we break off into groups and show Miss Yn what we’ve been practicing, hm?”

You managed to pick out the Star Trek theme over the volume of your hair dryer, and swore loudly as you cut the device off and scurried into your room to find your phone. “Hello?” You answered as you brought your phone back with you into the bathroom.

“Hey,” answered Younghoon, “I was thinking of just picking you up to go to the thing tonight instead of just meeting there.”

It was approximately two hours since you and Younghoon departed from the elementary school. You were back at your apartment now, attempting to get your bearings and clean yourself up for the evening's festivities.

You could feel the gears turning in your head as you weighed your options. “I mean—only if it’s convenient.”

“Okay, I’ll be by at say… 7?”

“Sounds good,” you replied as you finished up styling your hair. Though nicknamed the Space Gala, it wasn’t meant to be incredibly formal like dinner jackets and evening gowns—nice shirts, ironed pants and skirts, and non-sneakers or non-sandals would do fine. “Thanks, Hoon.”

“Mhm!” He chirped to the accompaniment of rustling in the background.

“Also—” You grabbed your phone and flicked the bathroom light off. As you were making your way back into your bedroom, you saw Sakura peer out through her open doorway with curious eyes like that of a cat. She wagged her eyebrows at you knowingly and you shooed at her playfully. “Kim Younghoon, you are such a liar!”

His laugh was sincere and bright. “Technically, I never lied.”

“You are great with kids.”

“Being good with kids is a subjective quality, my friend,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, you did great with them, too. They loved you.”

You pursed your lips in a sad, silly attempt to stay petty, but you couldn’t deny that you had a nice time with him and his students this afternoon. Once the initial jitters subsided, you loosened up a considerable amount. Adults oftentimes underestimated how perceptive kids were, but you had a feeling that they caught onto what made you feel overwhelmed pretty quickly. At least, most of the groups you were working with did.

But… you had fun. That was all that mattered in the end. You would enjoy going back to see them again. You kicked your door closed with your foot. “I had a good time,” you replied at last. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Yeah, of course. It was really fun having you there with me—us.”

You both paused on either end of the phone as the conversation reached a natural lull point. As you fitted on the freshly-steamed blouse you planned to wear tonight, you caught the time at the top of your phone screen. “Uh… so I’ll see you in about twenty minutes then?”

Shuffling from his end, and then, “Yep—twenty minutes! See you in a bit, Yn-ah.”

“Bye, Hoon!”

Twenty minutes flew by faster than 299,000,000 meters per second—at least, to you. One moment, you were ducking into the passenger side seat of Younghoon’s Prius, and the next, the two of you were being admitted in through the doors of the annual Space Gala. The usual “venue” that the consortium booked for this event was one of the campus’s main buildings that housed three large lecture rooms on the first floor, as well as two lecture halls on the second floor across from another large event space.

The lobby was filled with a crush of people, with some faces you recognized and others that you didn't. There were tables draped over with black cloth that hosted educational mini games where one could win free button pins and stickers, booths with companies associated with the consortium present to pitch potential internships, and everything in between. Younghoon stuck to your side like glue. You felt the warmth of his hand either between your shoulder blades or on one of your shoulders as the two of you maneuvered your way through the crowd.

It wasn’t until you hit the farther end of the lobby where there was a clearing of people that you felt the pressure in your sternum alleviate. You imagined your gaze appeared a little empty, glassy even, but it was all just an overwhelming wave of sensations on all ends.

“How’re you feeling?” You heard Younghoon’s voice close to your ear so you could hear him but anyone else around you couldn’t.

You focused on that—his voice. “I’m fine,” you assured him with a small smile. “I’m excited to be here and it’s just a lot.”

Younghoon smiled back at you and you felt his palm warm little circles on your back. “Take your time. The guy at the front says it’ll be another half hour until we can expect the panel to start.”

“Kkura and I—we, uh, usually go in a little earlier than everyone else.” Depending on the year, you and Sakura either occupied seats in the front couple of rows or one of the balcony seats. The former was to distract you from the idea of several hundred other people being in the room behind you, whereas the latter was so you had a large space between you and the crowd. Both were methods that you and your friend deduced were the best at soothing any feelings of overwhelm.

He nodded. “Okay, yeah, we can still do that. Are there any tables you wanna visit before we go in?”

“Actually,” you said, and your heart leapt at the memory of one booth you visited every year, “I have to show you this one thing—it’s so neat. It might be on the other side of the lobby, but we can cut upstairs and get to it that way.” Where there was a will, there was most definitely a way.

Younghoon’s expression mirrored the excitement in yours. “Lead on, Yn-ah,” he chuckled and let you grab his hand to show him why you loved what you did.

This year was dubbed a balcony year.

From yours and Younghoon’s perch up in the balcony rows, you could peer down at the hundreds of heads below, as well as the presentations given onstage. You were always blown away by the new information and possibilities brought up during the year’s presentations, as well as during the question and answer section where audience members could either line up to ask the panelists their queries directly or send them anonymously to an online platform.

Your preferred method was most definitely the latter because public speaking was not your forte, even though it meant you would have less probability for your questions to be answered. One year, Kkura had practically escorted you up to a panelist when everyone was leaving because you had a burning question.

But this year was different. All of your awe was coupled with the amount of marvel expressed by your partner for the evening. If you were fascinated by what was being discussed below, then Younghoon just entered a whole new galaxy.

You found yourself glancing over at him the whole night to watch his reaction. Periodically, your eyes would meet, and you might have been embarrassed to be caught looking at him, but it was completely dashed away by the pure reverence that was stark on his face.

At some point, the evening did have to come to an end, and you and Younghoon lingered up in the balcony to let everyone else below you trickle out first.

“That,” Younghoon whistled low, “was incredible. I’m so—” He made unintelligible hand gestures before coming up with a word, “—bedazzled. I’m positively bedazzled.”

You grinned. “I’m very pleased to hear that you’re bedazzled.”

“I mean, why don’t we hear about this on the news?” He queried, eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. He reached up to adjust the wiggly star headband on top of his head that he won from a spin-the-wheel stall earlier. “If they talked about finding organic chemicals on faraway planets on the evening news, viewership from my devices would skyrocket for them.”

“Don’t we all wish they talked about space on the news,” you sighed as you leaned your cheek against your fist. “But also, as Dr. Cho mentioned, we can’t get too excited yet. Organic chemicals for us might not mean organic chemicals for an alien species.”

Younghoon nodded slowly. “Right,” he drawled. “That’s so interesting to think about… that we’re possibly not alone and that they could either be very similar to us or very different, or maybe even somewhere in between.”

“Isn’t it crazy?” You couldn’t count the amount of times you got lost in a rabbithole of research when you were supposed to be working on assignments instead. Your eyes darted down to the lower levels to check the population density, and garnered that you could still wait at least a couple minutes more. “Hey, you know, if you're interested in this stuff, then you should come to some of the planetarium’s presentation nights sometime.”

Your counterpart’s eyes widened like the lens of a telescope. “We have a planetarium?”

You giggled. “Yeah, silly. What did you think the astronomy tower was for?”

“We have an astronomy tower?”

You smiled wide against your knuckles as you nodded. “Maybe you should wander down by the engineering buildings more often.”

Younghoon made an incredulous face. “Maybe I should.” He considered something for a moment and you watched the smile blossom onto his face again. “Though, I have a feeling that if I looked into a telescope, I'd only see you—’cause you're a star.”

“That was awful,” you snorted into your hand, shaking your head.

“Not my best work,” he admitted. He could admit defeat when he was met by it, but he wouldn't let it hinder his efforts. “You know, I think Galileo was wrong.”

“How so?” You asked as you motioned for the two of you to start gathering your things.

“You're the center of my universe.”

You were pretty sure the lower levels could hear your laugh echo against the walls. “Oh my god.”

“Or maybe that just makes you the sun,” he said to you in a singsong tone while trailing after you.

“I’m walking home, Younghoon.”

“You can try, sunshine.”

EPISODE SIX: THE ONE WHERE IT GETS WORSE

MURPHY'S Law stated that “anything that can go wrong will go wrong,” with an adage of “at the worst possible time.” You needed to have words with this Murphy.

You were now in the thralls of midterm season. It was common knowledge and experience among STEM students that once midterm season began, it didn't stop until finals hit. You hadn't even realized how fast midterms had arrived until it was pouncing on you like a predator in the brush. You were currently being torn apart by the jaws of a hungry lion called Life.

“I haven't finished the grant app, Kkura.” You stared at the white wall behind your desk with a blank glaze over your eyeballs. There were sticky notes and pieces of paper tacked there with reminders and diagrams like they were makeshift whiteboards, but you weren't looking at them.

“My aerothermo exam is in two days,” you continued on in a droning voice, “and the internship interview is the day after.”

You spun around in your chair to face where Sakura was perched crisscrossed on your bed with a sympathetic frown. The internship addition was a new one. You had sent in your application a couple months ago, and results of applicants who had passed to the interview phase were only recently released. While you were relieved beyond measure that you made it, the interview couldn't have come at a worse time.

“Well,” she began, “we already decided that I'm going to help you prepare for the interview, Yn. The grant app isn't due for another month. All you need to worry about right now is the aerothermo exam, right?”

When she put it that way… “You're right,” you sighed and lifted your hands up to dig the heels of your palm into your eyes. Sometimes it just took an outside perspective to knock a little logic into you.

The Star Trek theme song blared from your phone, and you both startled at the abruptness. You fumbled for the device, then quickly picked up the phone call when you saw that it was from your mom. “Hi, mom. Everything okay?”

“Your brother can't make it to the wedding.”

You made a face. “I'm guessing you don't mean Quincey…”

You could imagine the exasperation on your mom's face from the other side of the phone. “Yn, I call you because you're the logical one in the family.”

If only she knew what pain you were putting yourself through because of your current lack of sense. You leaned back in your chair, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Why can't Justin make it?” Justin was your eldest brother who had the divine French toast recipe.

“He's flying to Paris for his culinary school interview. You know I always tell that boy to double check his schedules—he never listens,” your mom exhaled sharply. You could hear the loud clatter of the dryer in the background; she must be doing laundry.

“Sounds like Justin,” you murmured. “So what's the problem? Can't we just go sans Justin?”

“We already RSVP'd with the seven of us, and your cousin already paid for the reception meal in full. We can't have an empty, wasted seat, Yn-ah.”

You frowned. You supposed that would be a problem then. “Why don't we just find someone to bring along as a plus-one?”

“That's what I was thinking,” she replied. “I was going to invite Rian, you know, the boy from next door.”

Somehow, your mood managed to sour further. You and Sakura made eye contact, and she tilted her head to the side in question. You gave her an emphatic thumb's down before replying to your mom, “Wait—can we—mom, can we not invite Rian?” You dragged your free hand down the side of your face, and you saw Sakura grimace when you said that guy's name.

“Why not?”

“Be… because,” you stammered, pushing out a sigh when you weren't sure how to describe your incredible disdain for your childhood next-door neighbor. He was your age, and fortunately, you were never matchmade with him. Unfortunately, he was a jerk with inferiority issues and delighted in competing with you in everything. “He wouldn't want to come with,” you said lamely. His presence would do the exact opposite of soothing your anxiety.

Sakura gestured with her hands. Tell her he's full of shit!

Oh, you wished.

“Yn.” Your mother could smell lies, even through the phone. “I wouldn't know who else to invite.”

“Daphne's partner!” You exclaimed desperately. Daphne was your older sister who attended another college on the other side of the city getting her master's degree. “Can't we invite Sam?”

“Sam's in Vietnam in December.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Yn.”

“Sorry.” Dear fuck, you were slipping. You needed a solution—anything at all. Something to put out one fire, even temporarily. “What if I came up with a plus one?” You regretted it immediately.

“Oh, like Sakura? I wouldn't mind if you brought her.”

Anyone but Rian, anyone but Rian. “Yeah,” you drawled. “That's who I had in mind.” You lifted your head to meet your friend's eyes again, and she knitted her brows in confusion. You mouthed that you would tell her in a moment.

When you and your mom hung up, you deflated in your chair, dropping your phone onto your chest. “I'm fucked.”

“Hit me with it.”

“I told her I would bring you to the wedding with us.”

Sakura sat there for a moment to process the information. “Yn, honey, I'm going to be in Japan in December.”

“I know,” you cried.

“Who are you bringing then?”

“I don't know.”

Murphy of Murphy's Law had better sleep with one eye open.

It was likely in your worst interest to be at the convenience store at midnight rather than in your bed asleep, attempting to let your brain process the concepts from your aerothermodynamics course. Against your better judgment, though, you were here, slumped over your usual table and seat as you watched YouTube and sipped on a box of chocolate milk.

In the distance, the door opened and closed, but the sound was muffled through your earbuds. Out of your peripherals, someone materialized next to you. You peered up at the tall man beside you now, blocking out the fluorescent LEDs from burning your eyes. “Hey,” you said quietly.

Younghoon took in your state with sad eyes. “I got your text.”

“I didn't think you'd be awake.” Didn't he have a rehearsal tomorrow morning? Or rather, later this morning.

“Well, I'm glad I was awake, for starters.” He frowned and then leaned over you to gently wrap you up in his arms. “Rough night?”

Your face was buried in the fabric of his hoodie. This was nice. “Rough everything.”

“Ah, one of those,” he sympathized. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. Thank you for coming though.” You leaned back and patted the empty seat next to you. “Wanna watch squirrels with me?”

You watched his expression falter and fill with surprised amusement with a pinch of confusion. “Did you—you just said squirrels, right?”

“Yeah, they're competing in a backyard Olympics for this trophy of walnuts.”

He sat down with you to watch the squirrels. In your free time, you liked watching engineering or science-type videos on the internet. Most of them were as educational as they were entertaining, like the backyard squirrel series, where this man used his mechanical engineering degree to build advanced obstacles to test and observe the vast capabilities of the squirrel.

You shared your earbud with Younghoon so he could listen, and you were now connected by a wire. He mimicked your position, too, with his chin nestled onto his folded arms over the tabletop.

You weren't sure what possessed him to drive all the way over here at such an ungodly hour of night, but you were grateful for his company, nonetheless. Even if it felt like the sky was falling, you could let this moment in time exist outside the conventional timeline. It could be its own singular moment, just you and Younghoon.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how it all came back to this. You'd never thought you were meant to see him again after tutoring him, let alone having spent so much time with him again these past few weeks. If you didn't belong in his world, and vice versa, then what was this?

You swore the monotonous buzzing from the lights above was making your eyelids slowly fall with the weight of lead.

Younghoon's eyes fluttered over to you just as you were about to doze off. He sat up and turned the video off. “Hey,” he whispered, gently shaking your arm.

You hummed, the bags under your eyes becoming worse by the second. “Huh?”

He chuckled under his breath as you put your head back down. “We can watch this another day,” he promised, patting your head. “We should get you home though so you can sleep.”

“Oh my gosh,” you groaned and picked yourself up, “you have rehearsal tomorrow morning—what time is it?”

“Hey, don't worry about it, love.” He was wrapping your earbud wire around his fingers into a neat, little bundle. “I'll be fine. Let's go home, though, yeah?”

You pressed your palms to your eyes in a desperate attempt to rehydrate them. “Okay, yeah. Sorry, Hoon.”

“Don't say sorry,” he cooed, pressing your earbuds into the palm of your hand and tucking your phone into your pocket. “I felt a lot better meeting you here. Do you feel a little better?”

You gave a small nod. Your brain was too muddled, too exhausted, to really comprehend what was being expressed as plain as the sun at high noon on his face.

“Then that's all that matters.” There was a pause. Your vision was blurry for the second that his eyes wandered somewhere else. You didn't know if you just didn't see it or if you just chose to not acknowledge it.

Then the moment passed, as all things did in the flow of nature, and he walked you home.

EPISODE SEVEN: PARTY PEOPLE (BBANGNYU'S VERSION)

“CHANHEE?”

Choi Chanhee swirled the straw of his melted iced americano around in its cup. “Yup.”

“Who would you invite to a wedding?” You posed, twirling around the mechanical pencil in your hand between your fingers. You didn't even know why you still had the writing utensil out—everyone had pretty much gone home for the evening.

He released a sigh indicative of a very tired data science major, who doubled-majored in math. “The person I'm marrying? I dunno.”

You and Chanhee were stuck with the late shift at the math tutoring center on a Monday night. The crowd usually cleared out by nine o'clock, but the two of you weren't technically allowed to leave until nine-thirty. Most nights when you were stuck with this shift, you and he didn't mind the quiet in order to finish assignments of your own.

Jungwoo would have been here to suffer with you, too, but he had an excuse tonight. Something about an emergency at the NCT fraternity house.

You blew a puff of air through your mouth. “Not your wedding; just a wedding. One that you're invited to.”

“You're not inviting me, are you?”

“You don't wanna be my plus one for a wedding?” You grinned.

“Depends…” He hummed pleasantly, “what're they serving?” That was a valid question that you lacked an answer to.

In front of you on your laptop screen sat your incomplete space grant application. After the hell that was last week, you somehow survived it by the seat of your pants. Now, you needed to focus on your two other exams for this week, the wedding debacle, this grant app, and praying that the interview had gone as well as you thought it had.

So many things to think about, so little brain cells.

You glanced over at the corner of your laptop screen to see how much time you had left to try and be productive. From the corner of your eye, you saw the swift movements of Chanhee's thumbs flying over his phone keyboard.

You turned to your application to read over your responses for the ten thousandth time. “Who've you been texting all night, Chanhee?”

“Huh? Oh, my best friend.”

You hummed. “The one that goes to the uni across the country, right?”

His response was cut off by the sound of the tutoring center doors opening. Both of you looked up in tandem, mentally bracing yourselves for—

“Younghoon?”

There was a weird fluttery feeling in your chest as he beamed at the both of you and bounded over from the front doors. “Hey guys! I was just walking past and thought I would swing by.”

Chanhee's eyebrows flew all the way up to his pink hairline. “Yes, because it makes complete sense why you would be meandering around south campus at nine o'clock at night,” he quipped.

Younghoon seemed, to his credit, unbothered by Chanhee pointing out the obvious. He stole one of the chairs from another table and sat down across from you and Chanhee. “You guys don't play any music when everyone's gone?”

“Sometimes we do,” you replied, glancing up from your computer screen before replacing your word choice somewhere.

Chanhee nodded his agreement as he set his phone down on the table and laced his fingers under his chin. “Oh, Younghoon-ah, I've been meaning to discuss something with you.”

Younghoon perked up. “What's up?”

“What're we gonna do about your friend and my friend?”

You figured out pretty quickly that you had no idea what they were talking about. Even after having played Monopoly with some of them a few weeks ago, it still hadn't hit you as to the full-scale of these two guys’ shared social circles. Sure, you orbited some friend groups of a decent size, but it felt like they all hung out with each other at least once a week.

“Ah,” Younghoon drawled with a knowing sparkle in his eyes, “Jacob and JC!Yn, right? I don't know; I find it kind of amusing.”

Chanhee frowned. A furrow had formed between his brows. “If amusing means to the extent where I'd like to rip my hair out, that is. Did you know that Jacob sent me to go intervene when Jaehyun was talking to JC!Yn at the hot tub?”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm.” Chanhee made a vague flourish with his wrist in the air. “And did you see how they were at the movie night on Saturday?”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “I did see that. He kept looking over when Juyeon was braiding her hair,” he chuckled.

“I am at odds, Younghoon-ah!” Chanhee groaned into his palms. “I just need them to kiss already and get it over with.”

“So you wanna meddle?”

“I'm not saying we should meddle, but…” He drawled with cheeky, puckered lips and his palms open upward. His gaze went to you on his right side, and he knocked the back of his knuckles against your arm. “Oy, Yn-ah. What do you think?”

You hummed and drew your eyes up from your laptop screen, meeting Younghoon's gaze first. Glancing over to the friend who addressed you, you said, “What are we talking about?”

“Girl, you need to get off that grant app.”

“This grant app needs to get off me,” you shot back. “I need it to be perfect, Chanhee.”

“Nothing is perfect, Yn,” he told you. “You know what you should do? You should ask JC!Yn to look over it. That might ease your mind.”

“I'll think about it,” you said at last in order to appease him. The smart thing would've been to heed his advice and ask his friend to proofread it. Perhaps you would later this week.

“Good. Anyways, I was asking you what you thought about how to matchmake our two friends,” resumed Chanhee. He tucked his limbs inward as he spun around in his chair.

“You’re going to have to give me more context than that.” Besides that, were you really the best option to ask for advice? You weren't in a relationship, and now that you thought about it, neither were the two of them.

You saw Chanhee and Younghoon exchange glances and there seemed to be a silent conversation taking place between the two of them. At last, Younghoon gave his counterpart a flourishing gesture with his hand as if saying 'all yours.’ Chanhee cleared his throat. “So Younghoon's friend Kevin, who is Jacob's best friend, introduced JC!Yn to Jacob.”

“And we're pretty sure they like each other,” Younghoon added on. “There was this pool party a couple weekends ago, and they came to the party together. This past weekend, they looked pretty cozy at the movie night that Jacob and Kevin hosted at their apartment, too.”

You had only ever met JC!Yn once in passing, and it was because Chanhee forgot his calculator at the library right before an exam, and she had been the champion to deliver it to him in the examination hall lobby. She was a real one, that was for sure.

You pursed your lips and rested your chin on your fist. “Aren't all of you guys single?” Was what you led with.

Chanhee deadpanned. “That's not the point…”

“I do have to point that out though because you ask me like I would know what to do,” you laughed, vaguely gesturing back to yourself. “I'm just as single as the rest of you.”

The two boys’ eyes whipped back to one another for a millisecond, before looking away.

You nearly leapt to your feet, exclaiming, “I saw that! What was that?”

“Nothing,” they answered at once. They did realize it made them look all the more conspicuous, right?

“We just realized that not all of us are single,” Younghoon raced to smooth over his and Chanhee's fib. “My friend Sangyeon—”

Chanhee snorted, “Hyunjae told me he doesn't believe him.”

“And you believe Hyunjae?”

“Touché.”

You unconsciously began spinning your pencil around your fingers again. “Wait, so Sangyeon is cuffed?”

Younghoon turned to you to explain. Apparently, his original group of friends that didn't include Chanhee's extension, kept a running joke that Sangyeon was either making up his girlfriend or was keeping her stashed on a secret island in the Bahamas. None of them had seen any evidence that she truly existed, but Younghoon wasn't convinced that Sangyeon was the type of person to go through all of this strife just to prove a point.

After all of that, you were more confused than before. “But why wouldn't he just show you a picture of her and prove that he met this girl?”

“That's what I'm saying,” Chanhee interjected, flinging his arms up in the air. “It would be so easy to just silence us with a little picture!”

Younghoon, clearly amused by the discourse taking place, leaned back in his chair with a shrug. “Beats me. I personally think it's because she works for a secret government agency, which is why she can't exist online.”

Chanhee's expression flattened. “Uh-huh.”

“But Juyeon says that it's probably because if he only shows a picture, we might accuse him of Photoshop,” Younghoon continued. “Which, in retrospect, says a lot about his faith in us.”

You made a face, your eyebrows arching high. “Oh, for sure.”

Debating on conspiracy theories about mystery girlfriends made the last thirty minutes of yours and Chanhee's shift fly by fast. Suffice to say, you hadn’t worked on your application nearly as much as you wanted to, but you were entertained for thirty minutes, which was just as well. Didn’t doctors say that it was good to laugh at least three times a day…? Good thing you weren’t going into medicine.

The three of you started packing everything up at exactly nine-thirty. There was no reason to stay any longer when there was literally no one else here anyway.

As you shoved your laptop into your backpack, Younghoon knocked on the table in front of you. “Wanna grab dinner after this?”

You opened your mouth to reply when Chanhee beat you to it. He hadn’t seen Younghoon grab your attention, and didn’t know who he was addressing. “Oh, that’s nice of you to as—”

“I meant Yn.”

You closed your eyes and sank your teeth into your bottom lip to have some dignity left (read: not start wheezing). Chanhee’s eyes had gone wide, eyebrows rocketing back up to his hairline. He scoffed, “Wow.”

Younghoon grinned cheekily. “Sorry, Chanhee. We have a routine.”

With Chanhee now thoroughly offended, your little trio filed out of the tutoring center. You locked the doors up behind you once you flicked off all the lights in the room. The walk down in south campus was arguably nicer than north campus, even if you were a little biased because this was where you considered your “turf” to be. South campus was much better illuminated than north campus with pretty, little lamp posts and five different styles of architecture from building to building. You were sure it was an eyesore to any of the architecture majors here, but they were interesting to look at when you were suffering in the engineering library. (And at least they had windows.)

You took up the position in between Younghoon and Chanhee, the latter of whom seemed to let his pettiness about the rejected dinner date go.

“Guys,” Younghoon suddenly said. The corner of his lips were turned upward in a degree you could only define as mischievous. “What is the most terrifying word in physics?”

You scrunched your brows together. There was no way you should get this wrong, but then again, physics wasn't exactly a subject where anyone got everything right—

“Oops.”

You snorted, and beside you, Chanhee's lip wobbled as he desperately held in a reaction. You couldn't believe you didn't see this coming and tried to think about it logically.

Younghoon shoved his hands in his pockets and swiped his tongue over his lower lip through a smile. “Aw, come on! I cracked up when I heard that one in a TikTok for the first time.”

“I've just heard some of your better ones,” you confessed. “Chanhee, did I tell you that Younghoon used to wax poetic to study for calc?”

Chanhee's mouth curled up into an amused little smile. “You did! I think it's cute.”

“You know, I think it's cute, too.”

In the dim lighting from the nearby lamp posts, Younghoon's cheekbones flushed something rosy. “You flatter me.”

As the three of you climbed up the stairs that would bring you to main campus, Chanhee piped up, “What if we just slipped Jacob and JC!Yn notes from the other person?”

You shook your head. “Not this again.”

“I'm serious!” He said in earnest. “It would just be innocent, little pick-up lines or something. Nothing like a whole ass confession.”

“We're reading Much Ado About Nothing in my Shakespeare lecture right now,” said Younghoon, “and the cast does something similar to one of the couples they're trying to get together. Sounds kind of fun, to be honest.”

“Not you, too!”

Younghoon slung an arm around your shoulders and flourished his free arm out toward the heavens. There was a pleasant feeling attached to the weight of his arm around you. “C’mon, use that mastermind brain of yours and imagine! Jacob's would just say something like—I dunno—if I whispered in thine ear that thou hast a body of beauty, wouldst thou hold it against me?”

“Wow,” you marveled, ignoring the amount of fluttering happening in your stomach, “that was pretty good.”

He flashed you a boyish smile. “Thank you.”

“But you're not doing it.”

The boys on either side of you released twin groans of anguish into the night, as if their mother had just denied them access to their Xbox for the evening. You rolled your eyes lightly. “I feel like relationships are like spontaneous processes—they’ll get to the right configuration eventually, organically. In other words, we should leave them be and let them figure it out for themselves.” You walked in front and turned around to face them so you could pin them both down with a firm look.

Younghoon raised his arms up in playful surrender. “Promise we won't meddle.”

“I hate when you use entropy statistics against me.” Chanhee gave a reluctant nod, sighing once again, “But I agree. We won’t meddle.”

EPISODE EIGHT: DON'T ASK ME THE COLOR OF ANYTHING

IT was the Star Trek theme song that blasted you out of your study bubble. In retrospect, the theme song was quite a subdued piece compared to something like the Star Wars theme, but for some reason you thought it was a good idea to turn the volume all the way up for your ringer whenever you were home. (God forbid you accidentally left it on when you were in class…) From your desk, you scooted over to grab your phone from where it was on your bed. Younghoon's caller ID beamed its cute smile up at you—the picture you'd set was of him and his dog from home, Bori. You had yet to meet Bori, but when you asked him for a picture for his contact photo, he sent this one.

You accepted the call. “Hello?”

“I just realized I pressed Call instead of Facetime. Please accept the Facetime thingy.”

Why did he sound so cute? You lifted the phone away from your ear and saw the request on the screen. While pressing the green accept button, you said to him, “What if I said no?”

“Then it must be Opposite Day,” he sang from the other side of the screen, his face manifesting before you. He was holding his phone up above him so you could see he was lying down in bed, his dark hair strewn over the pillow beneath his head. His initial smile widened to reach his eyes when your side of the screen loaded and he could see you. “There she is.”

“Hi Hoon,” you greeted with a small chuckle. You looked around your cluttered workspace for a place to prop your phone up against.

“What're you up to?” He asked while he adjusted himself to sit up against his headboard.

“I—” you made a sound of accomplishment as your phone stayed upright in the space between your desk lamp and a pebble paperweight painted like a rocket that your little sister made you, “—am brushing up on fluid mechanics.”

“Aah… fluid mechanics.” You could hear the slight intonation in his words.

“Don't say the joke.”

“I wasn't gonna say the joke!” He giggled. When he calmed, he pressed his mouth in a smile and made his cheeks look as squishy as a loaf of bread. “Is this a bad time though?”

You shook your head, slipping your pencil behind your ear so you could lace your fingers beneath your chin. “No, it’s not a bad time. This isn’t super important; I just didn’t want old material to jumpscare me when I go into our quiz this week.”

Younghoon nodded in understanding. “I see, I see. That means it’s good that I interrupted your workaholic tendencies.”

You glanced away with your hand half covering your face, and it coaxed a laugh from him that seemed to warm the room. You sputtered, “In my defense—” you paused, your lips parted; it hit you then that you had no defense.

His eyes were the shapes of upturned crescent moons, like shallow bowls filled with mirth. “It’s cute when you try to deny it.”

“It’s not denial—I didn’t deny it,” you pointed out.

“Uh-huh,” he snorted, completely unconvinced, “whatever you say, Miss Mastermind. I should call you Miss Workaholic instead.”

“Aish,” you chided weakly. You glanced down at the old notes that were splayed out before you on your desk. All of the concepts were relatively familiar to you; it was just to refresh yourself. To be frank, though, it wasn’t like you’d spent all evening reviewing old material. Every thirty minutes or so, you could spend another half hour on your phone, getting lost in the entertainment there. You weren’t that much of a workaholic.

You realized that there had been a pregnant moment of silence just then, and when you looked back over at the phone screen, found him watching you with a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You cleared your throat, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear and to take the pencil there down. “So, uhm, any reason in particular for calling?”

His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, as if snapping out of a daze. “Hm? Oh, not really. I just wanted to see what you were up to.” He cocked his head to the side in thought. “Random question, but are you doing anything for Halloween?”

Ah, you nearly forgot that was coming up. With all of the chaos happening in your life at the moment, Halloween was the last thing on your mind.

“Not at the moment,” you told him. You mused, “I don’t think I’ve done anything proper for Halloween since I moved out of my childhood house.” Going Trick-or-Treating as an adolescent was definitely a core memory for you, and was still a prevalent tradition in your household because of the little ones, Sadie and Quincey. As you got older, however, you usually opted to stay at home and answer the door to hand out candy. You still dressed up for the fun of it, and decorating the house was always half the joy of the holiday. You always considered trying to build some kind of candy contraption or maybe setting up a haunted maze in the front lawn, but alas, maybe in the future. “What about you?”

“Well, there’s that party that Changmin and Chanhee are hosting at their place.”

That rang a bell. “Ohh, shit. I totally forgot about that.” Chanhee had mentioned something about that the other night at the tutoring center, but you didn’t make any promises about attending—he knew your crowd preferences, so he didn’t push it. You were sure his and his friend’s parties were a blast though.

Younghoon shifted his lounging position, so now he was laying on his stomach with his legs kicking up from behind him. “Would you wanna come with? I remember that you went to that party with Sakura in September, but I wasn’t sure if you were going to come to this one.”

You tapped the end of your pencil against the pages of your notebook. “I’m not really sure,” you confessed. “I think I originally didn’t plan on going.”

“Ah.”

Guilt swirled around in the pit of your stomach at the disappointment in his voice. “I’m sorry; I probably sound like such a party pooper.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he rushed to assure you. “I get that it might not be something you’re into, and that’s completely fine, you know? I think it would be fun to go with you, but not if you wouldn’t have fun there.”

You inhaled deeply. “I mean… it’s not that I don’t think I would have fun once I—y’know, drank something—but yeah, I think a night of just horror movies or something will do me better.”

He nodded and carded a hand through his hair. “Of course; I understand. And your schedule’s been pretty packed lately, so it’ll be like a little break for you,” he offered.

“Yeah, thanks, Hoon.” You shot him a small smile. It was really cool that he was being so understanding, but you shouldn’t have anticipated anything less from Kim Younghoon. He’d always been this cool.

You learned to read the room, and the energy definitely was lower than before. “Do you know what you’re gonna go dressed as?” You asked in hopes of bringing that energy back up.

He perked up a bit at the question. “I—actually, I have no idea,” he chuckled. “I was thinking a vampire, but I feel like that should just be saved as my backup. That idea’s a little tired.”

Younghoon as a vampire—? Wake up, Yn. You laughed to yourself as a thought popped into your head. “It would be so funny if you showed up as Bill Nye the Science Guy.”

He snorted. “That's not a bad idea. I'm not a science guy, but I am an actor.”

“Hey, there you go,” you said. You pursed your lips. “Hm… I feel like your face is too pretty to fuck up—”

“Thanks?” He guffawed, hand propping his head up. “I'm scared to ask you what that even means.” You didn’t want to tell him exactly what you had in mind, but it seemed that he beat you to a punchline. “To be honest, I'd so let you fuck up my face.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hyunjae? Hyunjae, is that you?” Younghoon called out behind him toward his closed bedroom door. His ears were rosy as blood, and he was biting his lip through a grin. “I've gotta go, Yn-ie. Byeee!”

“Younghoon, hey! Don't hang—”

He hung up. You took a moment to collect yourself after what he said, as if you could even begin to unpack its meaning.

You could hear the partygoers even from the relative serenity of the back corner of the convenience store. It was Halloween night, and when the sun sank down into the horizon to signal the coming of night, so too did it mark the beginning of the Hallow's Eve festivities.

You had just dropped Sakura off at one of her friends’ house for a party, and she would text you later when she was done. The plan tonight was originally to chill at home and watch scary movies, but you instead found yourself at your second home with your laptop playing The Nightmare Before Christmas. On your head sat a deep purple colored witch's hat on a headband, with glittery black tulle creating a skirt at its base. Even if you didn't dress up completely, you would still pop on a bit of holiday spirit.

With you was a 6-pack of Halloween themed mini cupcakes and a carton of strawberry milk. They would function as your popcorn for the movie and your candy for the night.

From beside you on the table, your phone buzzed. You could see the words diffuse rapidly onto your screen, your eyes snagging on the parts where your older sister was asking about Sakura coming to the wedding even though she was supposed to be in Japan. Your eyes widened as you scrambled to text back. Fuck, the wedding. You texted back a very fast, ‘uhm abt that.’

daphne: ykw don't tell me anything ignorance is bliss daphne: okay what i came here to do originally… daphne: *sent images* your phone: awwwh how cute!! wait wtf since when was quincey into power rangers 😭😭 daphne: dear god don't get me started

You laughed and sent her a final text back commenting about the pictures she sent of her, Sam, Sadie, and Quincey all dressed up to go Trick-or-Treating tonight. As usual, your family extended an invitation to you, but you declined for this year.

“Damn, I should've dressed up like the power rangers.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice right by your ear, and you ripped your earbud out, whipping around to see who it was. There was Younghoon, laughing at your expense with a very amused smile flitting over his face from your reaction.

About five different emotions passed over you at once, preventing you from coming up with an adequate response to his sudden appearance. Your mouth, frankly, had gone dry. His hair was colored and highlighted with strands of platinum silver, artfully arranged around a pair of black sunglasses atop his head. He was clad in all black—the leather jacket seated on his shoulders embellished with white detailing, and his skin glimmering with silver chains. He had on a pair of motorcycle gloves that he was now shucking off, and you realized his lips were a shade darker than they usually were—wait… were they moving?

“—Yn. Yn-iee—”

You blinked long and hard. “Yeah. I'm here.”

The corner of his lips curled upward. “I just said I was sorry for sneaking up on you.”

“Oh.” Wait, he smelled so good right now… Not that he didn't smell good every other day, but…

“Oh,” he parroted with a cock of his eyebrow. “So, what do you think?” He asked the question you didn't even realize you would fear him to ask, and gestured down to the outfit. Younghoon sighed and it sounded half like a laugh. “I feel ridiculous actually. Hyunjae was like—you should do the biker thing with me. And I was like, what do you mean 'biker thing?’ Apparently this is the biker thing.”

You were slapping yourself across the face internally to say something. “You went from Prius driver to motorcycle rider.”

Younghoon nearly keeled over and had to turn to the side to laugh. “I still am a Prius driver,” he said sheepishly.

Your eyes flickered up and down his form again, unable to string together words once more. “Uhm, your hair is silver.”

“Excellent observation.” He reached over and poked the little witch hat on top of your head. “This is cute, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile, reaching up to touch either side of the headband. “I'm just here waiting for Kkura.”

“Oh, are you guys watching something together?”

You shook your head and turned back to your computer screen to wake it up. “No, I volunteered to be her chauffeur tonight. She's at a party right now, but I figured since I had time to kill, I could chill here.”

“It feels like a crime for you to be here all alone,” he said with one of his hands braced against the back of your chair and the other on the table next to your laptop. He was leaning over you now to peer at your screen because the brightness of the store lights made it difficult to see from where he stood, but it made him all the more apparent to your senses.

Goddamn, he was everywhere. “Well, I should be asking you as to why you're here,” you said with a cough. “Don't you have a party to go to, Biker Boy?”

He chuckled at the nickname and stood back up. “I do, but Chanhee and Changmin forgot to get triple A batteries for their battery-operated creepy candy bowl,” he said. “But I'm glad I was sent out to run an errand now.”

You shifted your mouth to the side in a sorry attempt to hide your contentment with that answer. “I'm glad, too. You—the costume looks good, by the way.”

Younghoon sat down in his usual seat across from you. “Thank you,” he replied, pleased. “I almost went out as a loaf of bread. Did you know Party City has these bread loaf costumes that you can wear around your head?”

“I'm not surprised at all,” you said, shaking your head in amusement.

You found yourself unhappy with the idea of Younghoon leaving after this. Once your conversation was over, you would go back to your movie and he would go back to his party. Before, you didn't mind the idea of having an evening to yourself, but with him right here in front of you, it was difficult to go back.

Him being here with you felt right. You couldn't explain why you felt that way. He looked like he was about to say something, and you rushed to beat him to it. “Want a cupcake?” You blurted. Before you could go back on your words, you gently pried a miniature cupcake out from its containment and offered it to him.

Younghoon lit up, delicately transferring the treat to his own hands. “I wasn't going to ask, but don't mind if I do. Thanks, Yn.”

You hummed happily as he peeled off the cupcake wrapper and took a generous bite. He did a little happy dance in his seat, and you smiled half into your fist as you leaned part of your cheek onto it.

“That's actually so good,” he said with wide, confused eyes as he reached toward the furthest end of the table for a napkin in the aluminum canister. “Why haven't I tried those before? I think I'm gonna have to take some back.”

“I don't have them often, but they are quite the guilty pleasure,” you agreed. “I would totally sponsor a couple packs for you to take to the party.”

Younghoon made a nodding motion with his head as he dabbed the napkin over his lips. He pulled the napkin away to inspect it, frowning. “Shit, I need to reapply,” he murmured and fished around in his jacket pocket for a tube of the shade that he had wiped off his lips.

Some force from the universe compelled you to do something fucking stupid. “I can help.” No, you can't! Why would you say that, why would you say—

Surprise flickered across his face. “Oh? Sure, I'd appreciate it,” he said, and held the lip gloss out to you. It was a muted brown-ish pink color that would leave a stain of itself upon the wearer's lips, but also had an initial glossy appearance.

With no room for backpedaling, you stood up and took the lip product from him. You stood before him now, between his legs with his hands resting on his knees.

He peered up at you through his dark lashes, lips parted gently.

You wiped the excess product off the doe foot applicator against the rim of the packaging, and then smeared the product over his bottom lip. You took your finger to smudge the color around, making quick work with a second layer for shine. When you were done, you hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath the whole time. You passed the lip product back to him quietly. “All done,” you whispered.

He didn't even look at your handiwork—he didn't need to. He smiled; you thought you saw him steal a glance at some place other than your eyes. “Thanks, love.”

You were right before when you thought you would dread him leaving. He did go, at some point, after retrieving what he had come here for along with at least three half-dozen containers of cupcakes. He sent you a wave from the door, and then he was gone into the night.

You sat there without doing much or thinking anything for a moment or two, your fingertips stained with the color of his lips.

Regret wormed a hole through your stomach, and it felt like it was gaping wide open. Maybe you should've gone to the party, or maybe you should have asked him to stay. Maybe you should have said something different, and maybe… maybe you should have…

Kissed him?

Your eyes stared unblinkingly at the seat across the table from you, and you arrived at a truth you could no longer ignore.

your phone: how do u know u like a guy

kkuramon <3 : IM LEAVING THIS PARTY RIGHT NOW.

EPISODE NINE: ARE YOU A CHICKEN, YN? I DIDN'T THINK SO!

“I'M not going to tell him.”

“Yn,” Sakura said gravely with a deep inhale, “for the last time, are you a chicken?”

You blinked. “I'm sorry, wha—”

“Bawk bawk. Are you a chicken?”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at her. It was a crazy image, this view of your best friend, as she stood in front of you with her futuristic spacecore outfit from the Halloween party she left early, squawking like a chicken. “I think you are drunk.”

Sakura deadpanned. “I'm not drunk.”

“And I'm in denial.”

“Oh, good. So you admit it.”

After rapid discourse in your texts, you went to pick Sakura up from her party, then brought her straight home so you could both deconstruct what exactly you concluded while at the convenience store. You recalled everything that happened while Younghoon was there with you, reliving that exact moment it hit you square in the face like an oncoming train.

And now you were here, being asked if you were a chicken and being accused of denial.

You huffed. “I can't just tell him that I like him! It's not—it’s not that big of a deal. It's not like I'm in love with him or anything!” You… you weren't in love, were you…?

Sakura braced both hands on her hips. “You say it's not a big deal, but here we are,” she said with a vague gesture to your bedroom. “Honey,” she continued, but softer, “whether you're in love with him or you just like him more than a friend, it's something. It's different. Are you sure you never felt anything for him before? Not even unconsciously?”

“I mean—” you started, “—I might have. I probably have,” you corrected, cradling your chin in your palm. “I thought he was really cool when I met him last year, but I think that was just one of those silly crushes, y'know? Like the ones you get on people you pass by and know you probably won't meet again?”

She hummed and lowered herself onto the edge of your bed. “Yeah, I get that.”

You scooted your desk chair over to where she was and flopped face first over your bed with a groan. You felt her hand gently smooth down the back of your head. “I dunno, Kkura. Maybe I've always felt something different about him.”

“That could be it,” she said. “And you just didn't realize until it was in your face. Sometimes it sneaks up on you.”

If that wasn't the understatement of the century.

“Why are you so scared of telling him, Yn-ie? From everything I've seen and heard from you, it feels like he probably feels the same way.”

“I'm biased.”

Sakura exhaled. “Logic your way out of this one.”

“Okay, if I logic my way out of this one, I could still get rejected.”

You could feel her eyes roll, even with your face smooshed into the sheets. “I know the prospect of all this is scary, but it's meant to be. That means you care, Yn. That means you care about your friendship with Younghoon, and that's inherently a good thing.”

When you didn't say anything else in response, she added, “You know your feelings will intensify if you leave them unaddressed. Murphy's Law.”

You hated when she was right.

You didn't see Younghoon for at least another week. Once Halloween had gone and passed, November hit everyone in one big fell swoop. Midterms the Sequel was abound, and it did not choose mercy. But amongst the abundance of fires cropping up, you managed to spray some water on a couple to keep the flames tame. (Do not do this to real fires; it won't help.)

It was the middle of the week when you and Younghoon agreed to meet back at the convenience store to hang out. Over the past few days, you kept your interactions with him over text and call as normal as possible, even though you felt like your newly realized feelings were glaringly obvious. If Younghoon thought you were being awkward though, he didn't say.

You and Sakura were in the kitchen right before you were about to take off to head to the convenience store. She was busy making a late lunch (read: dinner); you were busy worrying about everything.

“I've got an idea,” she said, raising the spatula in her hand into the air. “You should bring Younghoon to the wedding.”

You nearly choked on air. “I'm sorry? Say that again.”

With her back turned to you, she gave an emphasized shrug. “If you insist. I was suggesting that you bring Younghoon to the wedding instead of me. It would be killing two birds with one stone.”

“How in the world is that killing two birds with one stone?”

“Well, when you inevitably confess your feelings to him, and he confesses that he reciprocates, you will then have a date for the wedding.” She turned the stove off before twirling around on her slippered-heel, a proud smile on her face. “Ta-da!”

“I just think that if—and big emphasis on if—we do end up together, a wedding would be a lot as an outing.” You imagined how horrific and intimidating that would be, meeting your entire family and extended family after only just deciding to try out dating someone. Even thinking about it sounded overwhelming beyond means, and you couldn't do that to Younghoon.

She angled her head to the side. “But this is Younghoon we're talking about. He literally went to the Space Gala with you on short notice and made you feel safe and comfortable the whole time.”

You sent her a pointed look. “That's not the same thing and you know it.”

She sighed. “Alright. Then what about driving over to meet you at the convenience store at midnight when he had an early rehearsal the next day? He calls you and texts you day and night; he drops by the tutoring center on your shifts to keep you company… I don't know what else you need to convince you.”

You didn't like the spark of hope she was lighting up in your chest. You didn't want to lose a good friend if you were reading him wrong. Was he not charismatic to everyone he met though?

At some point, you got your ass up and down the street. There was a soft tune playing in the background as you wandered through the aisles in search of something to distract you from the anxious racing of your heartbeat. Younghoon had sent you a heads up about an hour ago that he was going to be late because he was coming from an outing, so you had a little more time to mentally prepare. Maybe you would chalk up the courage to tell him. Maybe you really could do it. If you just ripped off the bandaid, whether it be for better or for worse, you could at least say you tried.

You made up your mind then, somewhere in the bread aisle between the wheat and rye.

By the time Younghoon arrived, out of breath and grinning from ear to ear, you managed to hype yourself up to tell him.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said between breaths as he claimed the seat across from you. He paused, sniffing, then grimacing. “And also for the fact that I reek of barbeque.”

“Don't worry about it,” you assured him, teasingly, “the only thing you should be sorry about is not inviting me.”

Younghoon laughed. “You're very right, as always. My friends and I were having an emergency meeting about Jacob and JC!Yn.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh? Any updates?”

He groaned then, burying his face into the palms of his hands. Uh oh. “They almost kissed until Eric interrupted them.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yes!” He wailed in agony, eyes screwed closed with imaginary tears running down his cheeks. “It was painful to hear but it was also painful watching those two idiots interact at the table. My friends and I, minus JC!Yn and Jacob—we met a little beforehand to talk about what went down when Eric interrupted, and the lovebirds just came in later.” Younghoon huffed a rough sigh from his lips, partnered with a shake of his head. Then he broke into a smile, the corners of the expression soft, as he looked at you from across the table. He rested his cheek against his hand, chin inclining toward you, “So what's going on with you, hm? I feel like we haven't seen each other in ages.”

“We did call on Tuesday,” you pointed out.

He wrinkled his nose with a frown and shrugged. “It's not the same. I missed you.”

Your heart was beating so loud that you could count them out—thump, thump, thump— “I—missed you, too,” you said in earnest. Tell him, Yn. Tell him.

“You know, I think it's funny how we lost touch for so long, but we eventually came back together,” he murmured as he absentmindedly traced out shapes along the table top. “I guess if it's meant to be, then it'll be.”

The way he worded it… you were spinning yourselves in circles in your head trying to define it, to crack it open and solve it like you could a word problem. If the rotator wheel spins at a velocity of—but at this point, you were certain that you could figure out one of those much faster than this. “Yeah,” you agreed quietly.

“Something on your mind, Yn?” He asked you then. His eyes returned to you and you were suddenly stuck. The earth stopped spinning for this single moment in time, all because of the way this man looked at you.

You swallowed. “I…” The words dissipated in your throat. You couldn't do it.

Younghoon waited patiently, though. He considered you and your wide eyes filled with something he didn't know how to label, and maybe a dash of another thing he hoped to find. “Why don't we take a walk?”

With no reason to refuse, you stood up from your seat with him. He smiled at you as he brushed his hand over your back to guide you to the door, then retracted it to tuck his hand into his pocket.

November had so far shown the city a brisk, deep autumn. The trees were already close to completely shedding their leaves for the oncoming winter, and they were often swept away by a cool draft. You zipped up your jacket as the two of you began walking in the direction opposite to your apartment. Whichever way the wind took you both, you supposed.

For the first time in a long time, you and Younghoon were quiet. You were trapped in your own head with the courage you had earlier having mysteriously disappeared. He seemed content enough to let you ponder on it and to speak whenever you were ready.

“My cousin is getting married,” you found yourself saying.

That didn't seem to be the thing he expected to come from your mouth. Surprise flashed across his features and he clambered for a response. “Oh, well, congratulations. When's the wedding?”

“Thanks.” You said, “It’s in December. I… you know I have a big family.”

“Right.” His gaze softened considerably. “I imagine it must be a lot for you then—a family event of that size.”

You realized that you didn't convey exactly what you wanted to get across, and yet, you were reminded again how much he cared. “Yeah,” you murmured. “My brother Justin isn't gonna be able to make it after we already RSVP'd under my immediate family of seven people, and so my mom and I are trying to find someone to fill that space. She wanted to invite this one guy—he was my next-door neighbor for some time. Not my favorite person in the world because he's kind of got it out for me,” you said next.

You were rounding the corner again to loop back down the street toward your apartment. The organ in your chest was flying against your ribcage now; there wasn't much time left to tell him. You could see the metaphorical sand in the glass draining.

“So you're not going to invite this guy then, right?”

You nodded. “And I offered up Sakura just to appease her for the time being, but Sakura's gonna be in Japan in December.”

Younghoon trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. “I see.”

“That's my… that's my dilemma.” No, that isn't your only dilemma, Yn! Tell him! But the apartment was coming up in view, and you would be at the entrance in just a few more minutes.

You and Younghoon slowed your pace as you rounded the block again to cross the street. When you glanced over at him, you swore you could see the conflict warring across his face. If he saw gears turn in your head, you could see a battle scene in his eyes.

“Is this all that's been bothering you?” He asked at last, and you didn't know what to do about the slight intonation in his voice, like he was hoping for something. “I'm not invalidating your stress or anything, I was just—you know, if you had anything else you needed to get off your chest—”

“No, it's just that.” You could practically hear Sakura clucking like a chicken from wherever she was. You quickly added as the apartment door came into view, “It's—it’s not a big deal—finding a plus one, I mean. I'll figure it out.”

Plus one. He'd been your plus one to the Space Gala, but this was different. This was so much more different than that.

But maybe your words sounded like a dismissal or he was thrown off today. He cupped the back of his neck with a small nod. “Okay. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Hoon.”

He smiled then, the same soft-cornered one that reached his eyes, and that you'd come to be familiar with. You couldn't imagine seeing that face reject your feelings even if you knew he would probably let you down easily.

EPISODE TEN: YOU SPELL PARALLELISM WITH THREE L'S BECAUSE THERE ARE THREE LOSERS

THE engineering library at nine o'clock at night was a familiar environment for you, Chanhee, and Jungwoo. Dead week—the week before finals—meant that it saw the three of you twice as much, even on the weekend before Dead week began. It didn't mean you got studying done though. Sometimes you were just there.

“You guys are so fake! How could I not be updated on every single microevent in your lives?” Jungwoo cried, gesticulating his hands around far too fast for your brain to comprehend. He was about three shots of espresso and five hours in, if that explained things. You were all aware that your habits were not healthy, but no college kid was. “And you call me your friend?”

The thing that had triggered this reaction from Jungwoo had been Chanhee's fault. Or maybe that was your fault. Either way, the topic somehow had gone from calculating your respective grades with probable curves (calculating failure, at this rate) to you and Younghoon.

You liked to argue there was no you and Younghoon—it was just you-comma-Younghoon. Chanhee had sassed back at you with a swift, “Oh, so she's an English major now?” As if English majors were the only ones who could understand grammar and punctuation.

Jungwoo, having had no context given whatsoever, realized quickly that he was out of the loop. Now, you were here.

“I demand the tea!” He screeched, hitting the palm of his hand against the table. Thank god there was no one else here to listen in or shush you and your friends. If there was one thing about the engineering library, it was how out of the way it was from the main campus.

“I really don't think you should have anything else caffeinated—”

Jungwoo's head whipped toward you and his nostrils were flared. “You must think you're so funny,” he said with narrowed eyes and a saccharine smile. You would have been scared had you not seen this man once blow a massive snot bubble all over his differential calculus homework. (If anyone found out about that, it most definitely didn’t come from your lips…)

Your eyes shuddered, an innocent smile coming to your lips. “I was just saying.”

“Shuuush!” He stopped, thought about it, then retracted. “Actually, don't shush. Tell me what you and Chanhee know, but I don't.”

Chanhee snorted from his side of the table. “That's a long list.”

Jungwoo cut a glare toward Chanhee. “I despise you both,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but all jokes aside,” Chanhee said as he tucked his tablet stylus behind his ear. He cocked a high-arched brow your way. “What is going on, Yn? Do update us. Or for Jungwoo’s sake, start from the beginning.”

Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. You hadn’t expected Chanhee to turn on you, too, but perhaps you should have seen this coming. A generous amount of time had passed since you last failed to confess your feelings to one Kim Younghoon. Between that day and today, you had managed to finally submit your space grant application and passed your second round of midterms by the seat of your pants (hip, hip, hooray). Since that day, you and Younghoon would continue to interact as normal, except for the fact that you were practically walking on eggshells around him.

Just the other day, you both fell asleep while on-call with each other. When you’d woken up the morning afterward, you discovered that, one, it was a good thing you plugged your phone into its charging cord; and two, that Younghoon was just as pretty asleep as he was awake.

To this news, Chanhee merely fluttered his lengthy lashes, unimpressed. “And you’re telling me you don’t think he feels the same way?” He asked.

At some point, Jungwoo had broken out a half-eaten granola bar from his bag to munch on as a replacement for popcorn. “I can’t believe I’ve missed so much,” he said, shoving the bite into his cheek so he could speak. “And Kim Younghoon, Yn? Wooooow, I see you girl. That guy was insane as Charles Bingley in freshman year.”

“You’re so right,” Chanhee chimed in with an indulgent nod, pointing his stylus at Jungwoo. “I don’t know if insane was the right word, but he encapsulated the Bingley gent essence quite nicely.”

“I never saw that one,” you confessed.

Jungwoo’s face scrunched up on one side. “Clearly. At least he knows that you’re not just in it for his celebrity status.”

You leaned back in your chair and dragged your hands down the length of your face with an embarrassed groan. Only your guy friends; Chanhee and Jungwoo, as expected, gave a light laugh at your expense. “I don't like you guys.”

“C’mon Yn-ie,” Chanhee teased and reached over to poke your arm with the butt of his stylus pen. When you peeked one eye out between your fingers, he puckered his lips at you like a penguin. “Love you.”

You reluctantly slid your hands down. “If I'm gonna be clowned for my feelings, I'd rather be in bed!” You declared, taking your phone from the pile at the center of the table to check the time. It was nearly ten o'clock at this rate. Ah, and had anything productive been done? Absolutely none. Perfectly on track for the three of you.

“Nooo, don't go, Yn! You're too sexy,” Jungwoo whined.

“I think you should tell Younghoon your feelings,” said Chanhee. He hiked his feet onto the chair, hugging his knees to his chest. “You need to razz him up.”

You frowned. “I thought it was ‘rizz.’”

“You don't have rizz, though, so I thought razz would be the next best thing,” he said flippantly.

“Burn!” Jungwoo exclaimed with his hand cupped around his mouth, and you were suddenly reminded that he was in a frat.

You leaned your cheek against the palm of your hand with a dramatic sigh. “You're right; I do not have rizz.”

Chanhee's brows scrunched together in concern. “Oh my god, I thought you would fight back—of course, you have rizz, Yn! You snagged Kim Younghoon!”

Before you could tell him you’d given up on fighting back or before Jungwoo could give up on his sanity, Chanhee's phone buzzed from where it was sitting at the center of the table. You expected it to be Chanhee's friend, CH!Yn, since she was the most probable person texting at this hour; instead, Chanhee let out a delighted gasp, slapping his hand to his mouth at whatever notification he found waiting for him.

Both you and Jungwoo leapt to your feet and scrambled to peer over his shoulders. “What? Who is it?”

“It's JC!Yn,” he shrieked. “She's asking about flower shops.”

You and Jungwoo stayed perched over either of Chanhee's shoulders to see what would transpire. It was a brief exchange within the group chat of three people that included JC!Yn, Changmin, and Chanhee. Chanhee somehow knew about a flower shop in the university district that was open until eleven o'clock. After all your years of attending this school, you had no idea it even existed.

But once JC!Yn was off on her way, Chanhee turned his phone off with a prediction that he would not be hearing from her until at least tomorrow morning. “Looks like someone's getting confessed to tonight,” he snickered to himself.

Jungwoo was back in his original seat—a generous wording, since he leaned a good eighty percent of his body over the table with his knees braced on the chair, legs kicking up behind him. “You know what you should do, Yn? You should sweep Younghoon off his feet just like that. I'm sure he adores receiving flowers.”

“Would it not be as special though if he gets flowers after every show?” You asked genuinely, pressing the butt of your pen between your lips. “I'm not against getting him flowers.” Flowers would be a good idea… you'd seen plenty of movies that had romanticized the idea of giving and receiving flowers in your mind, and it would be an obvious gesture. At the very least, you could pull a Younghoon and tell him the flowers reminded you of him because they were gorgeous—or something to that effect. Maybe you really didn't have rizz…

Jungwoo shrugged with one of his shoulders. “I'm sure it would be special coming from you. I dunno. It's just something to think about.”

“So,” Juyeon drawled with his head lolling over the back of the couch to look over at Younghoon, “now that Jacob's situation is solved, what about you?”

Younghoon glanced up from his phone. “What about me?”

There were five of them holed up in Sangyeon's apartment presently, and four of them had invaded the eldest friend's abode to hoard his TV and play Super Smash Brothers. He was the only one with a working TV and decent WiFi to game on that wasn't Jacob and Kevin's apartment. Only, a couple hours in, Juyeon received a text message from Eric with a live update that JC!Yn was going to confess to Jacob.

Eric had ended his update with an ominous: Tell Kevin hyung he shouldn't go home tonight 🤣. That definitely livened up the place.

Kevin sat up from where he had been lying on the floor. “Oh, yo, you're so right. What's going on with you and Yn?”

Younghoon's eyes widened. “Nothing.”

“Don't give us that bullshit,” Hyunjae clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Didn't you say that you liked her?” He teased with a glint in his eyes as he wiggled his fingers Younghoon's way.

The man at the heart of the interrogation rolled his eyes and smacked Hyunjae's hand away. “I will not object to having said that I liked her, if that's what you're getting at.” Frankly, he would own up to having admitted that was how he felt about you. So what, he liked you? He wasn't embarrassed by it. The only problem was living with this knowledge and not telling you.

Sangyeon came over from the kitchen to lean against the back of the couch. He had a drink in hand, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Do you have a plan or are you gonna pull a Jacob and be a chicken?”

Kevin arched a high brow. “Only I can call Cobie a chicken, thank you very much.” He turned on Younghoon next with an accusing finger. “And you—I can't even go home right now, so let's get down to business.”

Younghoon blinked. “What business—”

“Order in the court!” Juyeon interjected. He grinned like a bunny. “Sorry, I know I have to wait until I'm a lawyer first, but it's just so fun to say.”

Sangyeon sputtered a laugh against the rim of his drink, blindly patting Juyeon on the head. “It's cool, man. Very appropriate timing.”

“We should play Marvin Gaye,” said Hyunjae. “It'll get us in the mood to tell Younghoon how to properly woo somebody.”

Younghoon swore his face was probably the shade of a ripe tomato. This was in no way how he thought his evening would go. And to be honest, he never ever expected having this conversation with his friends, ever. The last thing he wanted to do was to make his feelings all the more forward in his mind, and he was already having trouble whenever he was around you, and all you did was remind him of all the reasons why he wanted to be with you.

The thing was that he couldn't tell if you reciprocated his feelings. Sure, he could flirt and insert himself into your life all he wanted. But you could just be playing nice!

…actually, you probably were just playing nice. Dear god, he was back at square one.

He simply didn't want to lose your friendship, at the very least. Even if you didn't want to be with him in that way, he would pull up his big boy pants and be a friend to you instead. Then he wouldn't have to live without seeing you smile or listening to you work out problems aloud while he did mundane things in the background—

“And we lost him.”

Younghoon cleared his throat, raising a hand up to scratch his jawline. “You did not lose me,” he protested. The amount of attention on him right now was uncanny. Of course, he could go up onstage and be a character—but reality was different. He couldn't put on a mask or another personality; these people knew him… wasn't that scary? And yet, somehow freeing, at the same time.

Kevin inclined his chin to him with a little smirk. “You did have hearts in your eyes, my dude.”

“Aww, he's in love,” Sangyeon gushed while standing up to go refill his drink.

“I'm not in love!” He said with his index finger pointed at the sky. (He was in love. Of course, he knew he was in love. Because when all he did for the past three months of his life besides school was be around you and think about you and you you you… how could he not? Younghoon could fake any emotion in the world in front of an audience of people, but your eyes alone would devastate him.)

The entire apartment, sans Younghoon, chorused altogether now, “Yes, you are.”

Younghoon balked, rocketing upright. “There is no way all of you agreed on something for the first time and it was this.”

Hyunjae patted his friend's thigh from his position on the floor. “Believe it, Lover Boy. So what're you gonna do about it?”

“I wouldn't even know how to tell her,” Younghoon huffed, leaning back against the couch cushion with his arms crossed over his chest in thought.

That day when you'd told him about the wedding, he had been so hopeful that you were going to say something about feelings. He was so certain that he read you right, but you said nothing else afterward. He would totally go to that wedding with you, though; he just figured you might not want him to go, considering you'd dismissed it so quickly afterward.

Sangyeon came back to the couch and perched himself onto the arm of the sectional next to Juyeon. “It doesn't have to be fancy—you just need to be clear and straightforward.”

“Flowers could soften the blow,” suggested Juyeon.

Kevin chuckled. “For him or for Yn?”

Younghoon clicked his tongue at him with a playful scowl. “Quiet, you. But thanks, guys. I guess I just want to do this right. I don't wanna ruin what we already have.”

Juyeon pursed his lips and reached over to clasp his hand on his friend's shoulder. “You won't, man. I guarantee you that.”

“So if I get my heart broken, I can sue you for false advertisement?” Younghoon asked with his lips stretched in a grin, eyelashes fluttering innocently.

“Pssh,” Juyeon laughed, “try me.”

EPISODE ELEVEN: THE USUAL TIME & PLACE

IT was a frightening sequence of events when you texted Younghoon and he texted you at the same time. The Monday after Chanhee and Jungwoo had hyped you up to confess, you went around different items of furniture in your apartment with your phone in hand, pencil behind your ear, trying to work up the courage again to send the text.

And you did… eventually.

The usual time and place was decided upon, and it had snuck up on you as the day went on. You tied your shoes on and slipped out the door, making sure to pat your pocket down for where you had tucked your secret weapon for the night. As soon as you and Younghoon had confirmed a meeting for today, you ran to your (favorite) grad student, Seulgi, and asked very nicely for her set of keys into the planetarium, promising to treat her to brunch if she did.

The walk over to the convenience store was a jitter-filled one. Your stomach was doing cartwheels alongside the flips your heart performed in your chest. There was still activity on the streets, even at nine o’clock on a Dead week evening. You jumbled through the routine you had in mind over and over, a broken record of hopes and wants. The plan was to take a walk to the planetarium and use said walk to work up the courage to tell him. If anything went wrong, then you could cover it up with a cool presentation of stars overhead.

This isn’t lame, is it? You thought to yourself as you let yourself into the store. You were so in your head, you nearly didn’t notice that Younghoon was standing right in front of you, having just walked out of one of the aisles. You startled, breath hitching in your throat.

He smiled, the expression soft. “Hey,” he said to you and had to clear his throat, a hand brushing through his hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“All good; guess my head was just somewhere else,” you laughed nervously. You gripped the key in your pocket until you were sure your skin would smell like metal by the time you got to the planetarium. The two of you had met and hung out here a bundle of times before this, but this time in particular was different. The energy shifted in a way you couldn’t foretell if it was good or bad. For your sake, you hoped it was the former.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked and took a step toward you.

You inhaled, nodding. “I do,” you said. “I—actually, uhm, do you want to go to the planetarium with me?” From your pocket, you withdrew the keys Seulgi gave you and wiggled them around by the keyring. “I bribed one of my seniors for the keys.”

Younghoon brightened, a laugh falling out of his mouth, and now he was standing right next to you. “Oh my god, you evil genius… my beloved mastermind, are we about to break some rules?” He teasingly bumped your arm with his, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

“Only if you’ll break them with me,” you beamed and reached for the door to the front door.

“But of course,” he played along with a giddiness shining through his expression. “Anything with you. Though, I’d like to stop somewhere on the way first.”

Without even visiting your table in the back of the shop, you and Younghoon took off into the night together. You couldn’t imagine where Younghoon wanted to stop by on the way, but you thought it was probably to run an errand of sorts. But for the moment, it was at the back of your mind as you tried to keep this as normal as possible. “Different” was so intimidating—you wanted to sink into the comfort that was whatever you and Younghoon had.

It wasn’t difficult to slip into that normalcy, though. He always made it so easy.

“—and they did so well, Yn-ah. You need to come back and see them in person; they’re always asking me where you are,” he told you with an invigorated passion. He gave a feigned sniffle. “Pretty sure they like you more than me.”

You shook your head, laughing, “You’re so dramatic. They love you, Hoon. I mean, I can’t even believe that they would remember me after having met them only once!”

“Well,” he drawled, glancing away for a spell, “that might be my doing.” He confessed sheepishly, “I do talk about you a lot—but hey! You can’t blame me! I like talking about subjects that mean a lot to me.”

Your heart made a full stop in your chest, and you nearly physically halted in the middle of the walkway. The gears in your head could barely process what he had just said without going into a spiral. It was a reminder of what this night was originally about. You sputtered out a reply, “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“I try,” he jested.

“I do finish all my finals next week by Tuesday,” you told him. “I can totally come by that Wednesday and Friday for a little wing fitting. When’d you say the show was?”

He squinted one of his eyes in thought. “Err… it should be the Friday night after next, but if you do come through with those props, that should still give them enough time to get used to them before the performance.”

You nodded, mentally mapping out your schedule. Once your finals were through, you would have plenty of time to tinker with the props and have some proper fun after such a long quarter. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I appreciate it a lot, Yn,” he said, ducking his head as he nudged you with his elbow, “thank you in advance. I call you a workaholic, but here I am encouraging it.”

You chuckled. “It’s no trouble, Younghoon. Seriously. I like doing crafty things, and it’ll be a nice project. I promise.” To the end of that, you stressed further, “And if you think about it like you’re encouraging my hobbies and passions, then it feels a lot less like work.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right.” His head perked up when his eyes caught onto something in the near distance. His fingers unconsciously caught onto your wrist. “Here it is.”

Wherever you expected to find yourself, it was not a flower shop. There was no shop name or title anywhere that you could see, just the sketched posters and advertisements in the windows of chrysanthemums and hydrangeas. Troughs of vivid blooms lined the front windows like testaments to the plants one might expect to find within. Hanging planters dangled from the overhang, vines and foliage spilling over in an elegant mess.

There was one other sign posted in the window of the door that read its opening hours from 8am to 11pm.

Younghoon's cheekbones seemed to flush in the light streaming out from the inside of the shop. “Shall we?” He asked shyly and grabbed the door handle to open it for you.

You stepped inside before him with the door closing behind the two of you softly. You weren't sure where to go first—the room was constructed with two long tables in the center to hold smaller planters, then the perimeter was covered nearly from floor to ceiling with the larger plants, as well as the hanging garden pots like the ones outside hung from the ceilings by the lights.

There was someone to the right side of the room with a large, green watering can in hand. She glanced up when she heard the two of you come in. “Hi! How can I help you two?” She asked, reaching up to take out one of the earbuds she had in.

Younghoon placed one of his hands on your shoulder. “Would you mind if we took a look around?”

“No, not at all. Help yourselves; if you need anything, don't hesitate to holler.”

He smiled, “Sounds good, thank you!”

Did he know what he was here for? You followed him toward the leftmost table, unsure of where to wander yourself since there was so much stimuli. He stopped at one of the pots and you stood beside him. Leaning closer, you whispered, “I don't really know what we're looking at.”

“Me neither,” he admitted with an embarrassed grin, but then he pulled out a planter tag at the front of the pot he was examining. “But these might help.”

“You're probably right,” you mused, patting him on the arm.

“Look, these are carnations.” He scooted over to the next one over. There were an array of different colors of them, ranging from white to the deepest red. He placed a finger against his lips, then pointed at the white ones. “Those mean innocence, and those—” these were directed toward the blush pink ones, “—something along the lines of 'I'll never forget you.’”

You still stood close to him, and you reached over to gently warm the velvety petals between your fingertips. “I hope it's okay to touch them,” you suddenly said, swiftly retracing your fingers and peering over your shoulder at the worker.

“I'm sure it's okay,” he chuckled. He pointed out a buttery yellow set of petals a few pots down. “Aren't these gorgeous?” He breathed in awe.

When you arrived at the petal of choice, you raised the tag to see its name—daffodils. They were beautiful indeed, with pristine petals and tall stems, the color of them a rich yellow as if it had been painted rather than grown.

“What do these mean?” You asked.

“Unrivaled love? I think,” he answered with a slight tilt of his head.

You considered him for a moment with lips parted. “You're incredible, you know that? How do you know all this?”

His smile sweetened into something that made your chest feel warm. “You say that as if you're not the incredible one. But, Google. Don't look at my search history,” he muttered sheepishly.

It made you smile anyway.

You turned your head to scan the rows upon rows of diversity in one room. You were never quite the foliage fiend, but you could appreciate nature's beauty as much as nature's laws. Even if you might never be able to grow flowers of your own (because trust that you'd tried), as long as these places still existed, you could still admire and appreciate them.

Your eyes snagged onto a bundle of tulips at the front of the shop and you wandered over to take a look. Younghoon trailed after you to see what you wanted to look at, and stopped with you to admire the tulips. Their buds were near perfect, and they varied in so many colors—all soft purples, reds, yellows, pinks.

“Wow,” you said.

“Wow,” he agreed. He caressed the outside petals of one of the bulbs, then took the individual flower by the stem. He took yet another in his opposite hand and faced you. “What did the tulip say to the other tulip?”

You blinked. “Do indulge me.”

“We should put our tulips together and kiss,” he answered, and he pressed his own lips together in a barely contained smile.

You covered your mouth with one hand, a smile of your own blossoming under your palm. “I don't know about that one…”

“I don't be-leaf you when you say you're not a fan of that one.”

At this point, you could feel your face heat up and you could no longer hide your smile. “You're incorrigible.”

“It made you smile,” he quipped back with a smirk. He placed the tulips in his hands gently back into their pot, then swiveled on the balls of his feet. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are,” you agreed.

“Like you.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, but he already had his back turned to you as he surveyed the shop for the person who was on shift. Yet, you still spied the bit of red creeping up the back of his neck, and found yourself content.

“Hi, excuse me!” He caught the worker's attention. “Could we get just a little bundle of these tulips, please? Thank you so much.”

Your eyes widened and you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “Younghoon, what're you—”

He had a satisfied smile on his face. “Getting you flowers.”

“You don't need to get me flowers.”

“I’d like to,” he said simply, and that was the end of the conversation.

Less than ten minutes later, you and Younghoon were back out on the sidewalk with a new addition to the group. You cradled a small bouquet of tulips in the crook of your arm. The girl working there tonight had told you that being open so late caught a lot of last minute gift-givers as she wrapped your flowers in a tan colored butcher paper. She seemed to be an expert at tying ribbon bows that were just as beautiful as the flowers she tended, too.

You were already spinning far from your original intentions. You hadn't accounted for Younghoon making this gesture, and you wondered if he planned something for tonight.

Your counterpart suddenly cleared his throat while the two of you resumed your journey to the planetarium. You were only a few minutes away from the planetarium now. “I know I asked earlier if there was something you wanted to talk about,” he said, “but there is something I wanted to also talk about.”

Your heart fumbled over itself. “Uhm, yeah—yes, what's on your mind?”

From where you were on the street, you could see the broad dome of your target building just across the street. There was a rapid leap in your heart rate as he faced you beneath the street light shining over your heads like some kind of strangely timed, solo spotlight. The crosswalk turned green, but you stayed rooted to your place.

“I've been trying to figure out how to tell you this,” he began. He sucked in a deep breath and swallowed. You could only imagine how long he spent training himself to hold a poker face, but it was the liminal spaces where you could see right through him. “I like you a lot, Yn. It's—it’s an overwhelming amount, what I feel about you.”

You peered over at him wordlessly and hung onto every syllable coming from his mouth.

He wrung his hands out; this perhaps wasn't a script he was prepared for. But who ever came prepared for something like this? “And I think it's pretty obvious what I was hoping for tonight to be like from the flowers and all, and I was hoping that I was being just as obvious with how I felt about you, and… I don't know. I just… I had to tell you.” His lips pressed together so that the small divot in the side of his cheek appeared.

You didn't know how to describe the wave of emotion that washed over you. There was the rapid heart beat thundering in your ears, the tingle of relief in your shoulders, the happiness taking flight in your stomach.

“I have to be honest, I—I feel the exact same way you do.” You ducked your head, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “And I didn't know how to tell you either because I was really scared.” Your voice tripped, and you picked yourself back up. He waited for you, as always, patiently letting you say your piece. “I didn't want to lose you as a friend, at the very least, because you've come to mean so much to me over these past few months.”

Younghoon's smile widened and the amber color from the streetlight above haloed around his head for one dizzying second. “I didn't want to lose you either. I'm literally head over heels for you; you're every… you're everything.”

You didn't know how else to express your feelings through words, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, the flowers coming around his back to avoid being crushed. “Not good at words, sorry,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket.

You could feel the vibrations of his warm chuckle as he slowly wrapped his arms around you, his lips pressing against the side of your head. Message received.

Not everything went to plan, and it was important to exercise flexibility in such times. You still snuck (broke) into the planetarium with Younghoon, hand-in-hand, but all feelings were already known and laid sprawled on the table.

There was a center platform in the main showcase hall that was carpeted in a layer of fake grass that you and Younghoon gladly lounged upon to watch the universe. The image projected above your heads now of faraway solar systems and galaxies was unfortunately not real—they were produced by a specific software rather than the lens of a telescope. It was breathtaking, nonetheless.

You laid with your back against the fake grass next to Younghoon, your arms pressed against one another. The light projecting onto the dome above filtered down and painted you both in colors of stars and dark matter, all of those swirls of oranges and purples and blues and white.

“There is one thing that's still on my mind.”

He hummed. “What's that?”

“I was wondering—and you can totally say no—but the wedding…” You glanced over at him, and you wondered if he could understand what you were probing at. “I was wondering if you'd be comfortable going as my plus one. It's just the reception, but I understand if it's a lot.”

He smiled at you, big and bright, “I'd love to go as your plus one.”

Relief and joy fluttered in your chest now. It was a miracle your heart didn't grow wings and fly out then. “Thank you, really.”

His fingers inched over yours until they intertwined as a silent acknowledgement. He knew. He always knew somehow.

In the silence, you returned your gaze up to the night sky. It was crazy how vast the universe was and how small you were in relation to it. When put into perspective, your problems here on Earth were so much smaller than the world—and yet, they were still important.

“When I was a kid,” you started to say, and heard a small sound from your right as he looked back over at you, “I wanted to touch the stars.” You turned your head to look back at him.

His lip quirked upward fondly. “Something of yours will touch the stars one day.”

“I hope so,” you mused back. That was the dream.

His eyes dropped down to your mouth now, and everything quieted, as if you were in a vacuum with only the two of you. In this reality, no one and nothing else existed.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin as he leaned toward you and pressed his lips against yours. His body rolled half over yours, one hand cupping your jaw with a tenderness you were certain to become addicted to. It was your chest against his, your nose slotting beside his, your cheek beneath his thumb. His lips were a perfect marriage of pressure and softness at once.

When he pulled away, he didn't go far. “I think I just touched a star,” he murmured.

The breath in your throat hitched. “You're too good with words, Kim Younghoon.”

His eyes crinkled. “We can do something more your speed and study the space between us instead.”

You had to turn away to laugh, the sound of his own joining yours.

“Hey, it's a yes or no question,” he giggled, turning your chin back toward him. He bit his lip through a grin. “Can I kiss you again?”

You would be a fool to refuse him. In an instant, he lowered his lips over yours again, enveloped you in his embrace. And with every moment passed, you sank further and further into him. Maybe the universe was uncharted and alluring, but the universe could wait.

You had all the world right here.

a/n: tumblr fcking hates me and my dialogue, confirmed. anyways, pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! for now, i'll see u in hot commodity!

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