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#kim younghoon x reader
juyeonszn · 5 months
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BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT
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THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!
YOU’RE INVITED!
PAIRING tbz x f!reader
GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒minimal angst ﹒crack
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mature language, mentions of alcohol, sexual content, more warnings per individual fic!
SUMMARY have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? if so, then these fics are just for you! join us as we take a glimpse into the tau beta zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!
MORE LETS GAURRRRR i’m so excited to announce this collab with loml reese both as a cute fun little idea we had and in celebration of her 1 year tumblr anniversary! we also realized it happened to be the same day as tbz day LOL so that’s kinda crazy 😭 my boyz have been here for 6 years wow 💔 anyways i hope all of u love these as much as we do! and always, don’t forget to rb if u enjoyed!! send an ask if u’d like to be tagged in these <3
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies
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FALL SEMESTER
TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)
Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)
EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)
You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.
SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)
It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of school work for you.
CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)
When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.
“FRIENDLY” COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)
The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?
JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)
Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.
SPRING SEMESTER
LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)
Younghoon has hated you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?
(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)
Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.
NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)
When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.
PARTY O’CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)
In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.
PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 1/1, PT. 2 1/3)
It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.
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© juyeonszn & itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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sungbeam · 2 months
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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!
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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.”
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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!”
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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?”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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your phone: how do u know u like a guy
kkuramon &lt;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.
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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.”
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“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.
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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.
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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!
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @sunramzi @deobi0412 @kflixnet
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ericsprincess · 11 months
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awake I love this
Your hot roommate is a bed dweller.
~~~
“Oh shit- Jesus, you scared me,” you stop in the kitchen doorway, caught off guard by the unexpected presence in the kitchen. It’s 6 a.m. and you just woke up, blearily wandering out of your bedroom to make breakfast and get ready for your shift at work. You’re barely awake and what you didn’t expect was your roommate being already there, making some toast. 
Younghoon, your roommate, standing in the kitchen, was a very unusual sight. Not only the “in the kitchen” part, but also the “standing” one. When you first moved in, you knew your roommate would be a man, and you were quite concerned about what the future cohabitation would look like. You didn’t know him, it was just a friend of a friend who gave you a tip about Younghoon looking for someone to rent his spare bedroom to. Therefore you were afraid about the endless possibilities of how everything could go wrong - he could be too messy, too loud, bring too many people home, or worse, perving on you. But you didn’t really have a choice, so you took the offer and moved in. Thankfully, none of your worries proved to be true - not only Younghoon appeared to be a completely chill guy, but it would be really easy to even forget you live with someone. 
The thing is, your roommate spends way too much time in his bed. First you thought he might be sick, but he didn’t look that way. But save for going to school and occasionally out for either necessary errands or rare outings with friends, he spends all his leisure time in bed. Everytime you feel bored and you go to his room just to chat about anything, he’s under the blankets, either scrolling on his phone or reading, or watching a movie. He plays computer games out of bed too, and you’ve seen him even study while laying down. Thankfully, he seems to be a clean person, so at least you don’t have to worry about him dwelling in some gross nest. It seems to be just an odd quirk of his otherwise normal and nice - as you were pleased to discover - personality. 
He also seems to be quite aware of this and doesn’t seem to care much. When you asked him once, why is he alway in bed, after a few weeks of living together, he just lazily turned his head to you and replied “Because I’m always ready, Y/N” and winked at you. 
So considering all that, you take a little bit of time to admire the rare sight of vertical Younghoon. 
He’s very tall and while he’s kinda skinny, his frame is broad. He’s dressed in black sweatpants and black t-shirt and you think no one should look this good, while spreading some butter on a toast, having just rolled out of bed. 
He looks over his shoulder at you, amused by your outcry. “Good morning Y/N. I’m making breakfast, do you want some? Coffee is over there,” he smiles at you, pointing at the full coffee pot. 
“Yes, please,” you reply, pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit down at the kitchen table, sipping at it and just observing Younghoon going about making more toast. You could really get used to the sight of a hot man making you breakfast every day, you dream a little. 
Speaking of men, you remember something. “By the way,” you say, “I’m going out with friends tonight so, you know..” you’re not sure how to finish the sentence and tell him that you might end up bringing someone home to fuck. But he gets it anyway.  
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’ll have my headphones on, don’t worry,” he teases you and you can feel your face getting red. It’s not that you’re that loud, because you know you’re not. But he might have caught on to it anyways, and you’re not sure how you feel about your nice roommate overhearing you having sex. It feels both embarrassing, but also kind of hot, seeing that he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Does he perhaps like it? You wonder, but your train of thought gets interrupted by a plate full of toasts set in front of you. Younghoon sits across the table and you spend the morning just chatting about news, until you both realize you have to run to work and school respectively, and the whole topic of overhearing is forgotten. 
~~~
You come home from work and rush straight to your bedroom. You had to stay late at work to finish up something so now your time to get ready for going out is diminished and it’s barely enough to take a shower, throw on the skimpiest dress you own, fix your makeup and be out of the door. 
So you do exactly that. You take a shower and pick a tiny black dress with straps across the back. You know you look good and you want to wear something that gives a clear signal you don’t want to go home alone tonight, but at the same time, you’re not that used to being dressed this provocative and suddenly you feel insecure. You don't have time to take a photo and bother your friends and wait until they reply with their opinions so you take the only other option you have and march straight to Younghoon’s room. 
Thankfully - and as expected - he’s in his bed, just scrolling on his phone. 
“Hey, Hoonie, do you have a minute?” you ask, peeking through the opened door. 
“Yeah, sure, what do you need?” he replies, so you enter the room. 
“Do you think this dress is too much?” you ask. He looks at you, but doesn’t reply. Instead of that he just stares and you can see his eyes following down every part of your body. He’s blatantly checking you out, you realize. 
The awkward silence is getting more awkward by the second, until he just throws off-handedly “Yeah, you can go out like that. You look good,” and turns back to his phone. It feels like a dismissal a little, but you can see his ears are red. 
“Uh…okay thank you, I’ll get going then,” you beep and not waiting for his answer you rush out of his room. What the fuck was that?? Your brain screams, having just experienced this awkward moment, way too charged for how your interactions with your roommate usually went. You put on your heels and off you go. 
~~~
Well, this was a bust, you sigh while tapping code to your apartment door. Not only did you not see a single decently looking guy, but it felt like tonight was the night that every sleazebag in the city decided to crawl out. So you just stuck to your girlfriends, had a few shots and only went dancing together with them. It was fun enough, but the main point of the outing - to find someone to sleep with - completely fell through, so you came back home tipsy, frustrated and kinda horny. 
You don’t feel like sleeping yet so you head over to Younghoon’s room to see if he’s still up and maybe goad him into watching a movie together or something. You knock twice and don’t wait for a reply, just silently open the door in case he’s asleep already. 
But he isn’t. The room is dark and the only light there is coming from his laptop screen on the nightstand. There is some movie playing silently, but it doesn’t seem that he’s watching it. 
You can’t really see it well, but Younghoon’s eyes are closed and he’s squirming and sighing and his hand is moving under the blanket. Is he..masturbating? Is the first thought that comes up in your brain, but it’s just a split second until he notices your presence and sits up a little. “Hey, Y/N, you’re back already? How did it go? You came back alone?” he breathes out, trying to sound normal. 
“Uh yeah…it was tragic,” you reply but you’re not sure what to say next, your brain completely stuck on what you saw earlier and while you’re not drunk, the few shots you drank are suddenly giving you liquid courage to jump the gun. “Actually…Hoonie, remember when I asked you once….” you start. 
“Yeah?” he prompts you.
“Are you still…always ready?” you finish your question and you can see the moment he puts it all together and realizes what you are really asking. 
“Yeah..” he breathes out and you don’t waste a second and come to his bed, throw away his blanket, swing one leg over him and sit down. You can feel his hard cock under you and his hands immediately come up to rest on your hips. You’re looking at each other, both aroused but neither is sure what to do next. 
“S-sit on my face?” he suggests and you smile at him, because this is truly a fantastic idea.
You raise yourself just enough to take off your panties and then you turn and maneuver so that your pussy is hovering over his handsome face. Your dress is so short you don't even have to take it off. He grabs you by your hips and pulls down, so that you’re sitting with almost full weight on his face. But he doesn’t seem to mind, rather the opposite - he moans and gets to work. He eats you out like it’s the best meal he’s ever had, and his tongue seems heavenly and oddly huge, licking over your clit in broad strokes then moving to your dripping hole and pushing inside. His tongue is so big he can kinda fuck you with it and it feels so good you’re not sure how long you will last. You don’t want it to be over so soon, especially since you can see his hard cock tenting his pyjama pants and the size of it is also intriguing. 
“Younghoon, I’m getting close,” you moan and he just responds by flicking over your clit harder, but you’re already stopping him and easing off his face. He whines and tries to pull you back on his face, as if he hadn’t had enough of eating your pussy yet, but you laugh and drop off on the bed next to him. You look at him and he’s so aroused he looks almost feral, with his eyes glossy and the whole bottom part of his face glistening with your pussy juices. 
“Do you have a condom?” you ask and he nods and reaches back to open his nightstand drawer to take out a silver packet. You look at each other. “Always ready,” you say in unison, and start laughing, you lean forwards to take off his shirt  and he fumbles with the straps on your dress until you together manage to take it off. He kicks off his sweatpants and now you’re both naked. You look at his cock and you’re pleased to see how pretty and long and thick it is and he’s already so wet, so you open the packet and roll the condom on him. 
“How do you want to…” he starts but you’re already pushing his chest down so he’s lying flat on his back. 
“Let me ride you,” you say and you’re already climbing over him. You’re not wasting any time, you take hold of his cock and put it inside you, sitting on his lap fully. You take a few seconds to get used to it, even though you’re so wet and relaxed it’s not an issue anymore, and then you start moving. 
It gets frantic all too quickly, you’re both too horny and close to try for any kind of finesse, you’re riding him like it’s the last thing you do in your life and he’s just holding you, his hands roaming over your body, squeezing your ass and tits, until he plants his feet over your bed and start thrusting against you. It’s so wild and both of you are moaning and getting out of breath, accompanied just by the slapping and squelching sound.
“Y/N, I’m coming,” he moans and you just nod quickly, because you’re coming too and you can’t even speak anymore. You lean forward to hug him tightly while you’re shaking and spasming and you can see his cock throb and pump inside you. Your ears are ringing and it almost feels like the whole room is spinning with how strong your orgasm was. 
You finally start coming to your senses so you just slump against him. You're both sweaty and sticky but it also feels kinda nice. He reaches for the blanket and pulls it over both of you so that you won't get cold and it somewhat warms your heart a little. You were already almost starting to get worried about things becoming awkward between you, but when you look up on his face, he’s smiling kindly at you and you know everything will be okay. Maybe even… 
“You know Y/N,” he chuckles. “I must say, I like living with you a lot more than I expected I would, but now that I have had you in my bed…It kinda feels like you belong here,” he says and snuggles you tighter to his chest. 
Yeah, you think. Maybe, indeed. 
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strawbellery · 9 months
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“our secret moments in your crowded room, they got no idea about me and you.”
genre: slight angst (not that angst, younghoon just acting cold towards y/n), fwb
pairing: kim younghoon (tbz) x female reader (y/n)
summary: younghoon is known for his tsundere image, surprisingly becoming the other students’ favourite senior despite being so cold and quiet to everyone. other than his tough and unapproachable demeanour, he’s also known for being the smartest one in his batch. most people have been confessing their feelings to him, but he rejected all of them, causing a rumour claiming that he has a high standard on his partner. little did they know, he developed a friends-with-benefits relationship with the most innocent looking 1st year student, y/n.
part i, ii, iii.
words count: 1,890
“awh, you’re so mean. why are you saying such mean words to me?” younghoon followed you from the back, keeping up with your rushed steps to nowhere.
right after the class ended with the lecturer wishing a sincere good luck to all of his students, most of them immediately packed up their stuff, including you. as you shoved your tab into your tote bag and tossed the bag strap onto your right shoulder, you headed out from the classroom, not expecting younghoon to follow like a lost puppy who just found his owner. 
halting your steps and turning to face younghoon, all you wanted to do was kick him on the balls right away. the way he teased you with such an innocent tone, you knew he was just messing around. he never felt bad with whatever he made you feel back then. “shut up.” you braced yourself from uttering those words.
“if you say shut up one more time, i’ll kiss you.” younghoon said, knowing damn well he was the one that held the power in the situation because he knows that you would do anything to keep your image of a pure girl inside the campus, wanting everyone to praise how sweet looking you are.  
younghoon actually cares less if his unapproachable demeanour broke off once he kissed you in public, as if he has nothing to lose since he wasn’t the one who decided to put on the cold image. but for you, it’s a different case. once you enrolled in the campus, you decided that it’s better off starting with a sweet looking girl-next-door image so people won’t take advantage of you for sexual purposes. 
which, in fact, failed. as much as you tried to put on the innocent looking princess on campus, younghoon would do anything to make your mission fail. let it be moaning on the top of your lung in his room, or biting on his inner palm as he tried to keep you quiet when both of you had fun at the janitor’s room.
from what you remember, whenever you both (most of the time younghoon) had fun with each other, he never tried to kiss you on the lips. sucking on your collarbone? marking your neck? oh hell yeah, he likes doing it. he likes seeing his territory on your body. the way you tried to cover them by putting your hair down? or when another male pointed it out? he feels like he owns your whole body.
but one question that keeps lingering in your mind is why wouldn’t younghoon kiss you on the lips? after all the naked bodies pressing against each other, what’s so bad about sharing a kiss? you never brought it up to younghoon but after asking google for answers, you figured out the act of kissing is quite intimate. it’s like a symbol of being attached to one person, and you know younghoon never looks at you in a romantic way. it’s always been you, and only you. you with that darn crush. 
your steps halted once you turned to face the taller man, whose face was filled with mocking expression. biting your inner lips so hard that you could feel the slight blood rushing in, you muttered a quick, “i hate you” before continuing your steps to wherever your feet took you, as long as you didn’t have to face the man again. 
it’s a fact check though, that you didn’t want your first kiss to ruin your pure girl image on the campus, especially by the hot tsundere senior that everyone swooned for, regardless of gender and age. 
seeing how frustrated you were, younghoon couldn’t help but to smirk. he knew how careful you were in protecting your image at the campus, and he also knew how you wanted your “first kiss” to be stolen by the special one, ironically when he became almost all of your “all”s. 
“oh, do you really hate me though?” catching up with your fast tracks, he made sure he still kept you on the tip of his finger. before he could say more, a voice calling you suddenly was heard, despite them being in an open-space area. 
both of you turned to face the owner of the voice, seeing jacob and his other male friend (whom you can’t remember who), came and approached you both. “you were here too, younghoon.” 
younghoon simply greeted jacob back with just a simple hum and nod, not even bothering to use his energy to say anything. jacob faced you with face full of excitement, “y/n! i made a friend who’s the same age as you. meet eric sohn, he’s also a foreigner, just like me!” 
that’s what you actually admire about jacob. he always makes new friends without any limitations. he wanted his circle to be as big as he could and when he meets a new person, he’ll introduce them to his friends and vice versa. well, he has always been told by his parents that connection is important, so here he was, instead of studying, he focused more on making new friends. 
“hey y/n, i’m eric! i’ve heard a lot about you from jacob,” eric introduced himself as he extended his arm out, hoping for a friendly handshake from you.
“nice to meet you, eric. i’m y/n.” you introduced back, accepting his hand for a handshake. younghoon was quick enough to catch the slight blush on your face, knowing it wasn’t the makeup that was reddening on your cheek. you were flustered over the fact that jacob shared little information about you to eric before setting both of you, wondering what he told eric to make him look so excited to meet you. 
“i… didn’t know you were this pretty. if i’ve ever known, i probably wouldn’t have to meet you in a simple hoodie with messy hair,” eric added with a shy smile. the boy was so cute for you to handle, especially when he tried his best to hide his reddening cheeks as well. 
“oh, it’s fine though. i think you’re pretty cute too,” you tried to lighten up the mood, not wanting eric to feel so little of himself. 
“blah blah blah,” a rather cold voice was heard before you no longer felt eric’s hand in your grip. looking down, you noticed younghoon was the one who held eric’s hand by now, “and i’m kim younghoon, your senior.” he emphasised on the nickname, wanting eric to know who’s much older and got the seniority in the campus world. 
apparently that’s how it works in the men's community. somehow someone’s age and seniority play quite a large role among men. 
“oh yeah, younghoon.” eric brushed it off with a slight laughter, not wanting to show his disappointment over the lack of your touch on his, “i’ve heard about you too.”
“i hope that information will stay in your mind,” younghoon partially threatened him, knowing what jacob probably described to the junior. 
cold, quiet and scary senior. 
that was the first time you’ve ever seen this side of younghoon. the jealousy in him, the possessiveness of him. it got more obvious when jacob decided for lunch with four of you at the nearby restaurant since the campus foods suck. once you were seated, younghoon took no time and immediately sat next to you, causing more confusion to jacob as he thought younghoon would sit next to him, as he usually does. 
the cute young man who sat across from you can’t help but to steal glances, as he found you very attractive. you were his type anyway, the one he’d been searching for his life. quite a metaphor but the moment eric laid his eyes on you, he couldn’t help but already arrange the whole future with you in his mind. 
even when the four of you were eating while keeping updates with each other's life, eric would do anything to make sure you’re engaged in his topic. which in fact, caused the inner jealousy of younghoon finally got the best of him. 
“i’m sorry but y/n have to go now,” younghoon said out of nowhere, grabbing your wrist and forcing you to stand with him. 
“where?” your eyes widened, surprised over the pressure he had on your wrist. “yeah, where?” jacob’s question followed along with the confused looking puppy of eric. 
“somewhere,” younghoon replied half-heartedly and when he was about to drag you out, you insisted on staying at the place. “when?! i never say anything,” you said in a rather loud voice, making sure you have the rights for yourself. 
ignoring your words, younghoon thanked jacob for the meal as he forcefully dragged you out from the restaurant as you struggled on keeping up with his steps, at least bringing your tote bag along. once both of you arrived outside the restaurant, younghoon immediately unlocked his car and opened the passenger seat, almost tossing you to the seat. closing the door rather in an annoyed way, he went to sit in the driver seat. 
“what were you doing?” he could hear the frustration from your voice, but he didn’t bother giving you replies as he pressed more on the car pedal, speeding the car’s pace. “younghoon, i’m talking.” 
still, no answer. despite how loud you were, he still gives no response. 
“kim you-”
the sudden brake caused you to almost jump out of your seat, all thanks to the safety belt that you managed to put on before the crazy young man started the engine. 
“what on the earth were you trying to do, younghoon?!” now it became a shout, as you turned to face him with your furious pair of eyes. you never knew you could be so frustrated over someone, not until younghoon steps into your life. 
“i was the one who should ask you that,” younghoon snapped back, turning to face you with a stern look. “what the fuck were you trying to pull back then?” 
furrowing your eyebrows, you can’t seem to catch on with what younghoon said. “what?”
“did you have fun flirting with eric?” younghoon added, “did you think i didn’t recognise those slutty sounds coming out from you? asking how’s his campus life so far?” 
“oh god younghoon, i wasn’t-” 
“yeah sure you weren’t, of course you weren’t, especially with those eyes that begging him to fuck you.” 
“yah kim younghoon!” raising your octaves, you were finally done with his retorts. his words never make sense to you. why would you flirt with eric? you were simply conversing with him, nothing more. or maybe that wasn’t what younghoon saw. 
before you could say anything to defend yourself, the grab on your chin was quite harsh, as younghoon forced you to keep eye contact with him. “what? you think you could fuck with other men as well?”
“how easy are you, y/n? to beg everyone in the campus to fuck you? at this rate, you probably would’ve sucked jacob’s dick too.” 
“hey, you are crossing the line.” you glared at him furiously, not understanding where this jealousy came from. 
“what line, exactly?” younghoon asked you, making sure his grip on your chin remained there, not even caring that he smudged your makeup on that area. “do we even have a line to not cross?”
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sanaxo-o · 4 months
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One for me (Kim Younghoon)
Warnings/Genre: so the reader is very very very insecure about herself, fluff (kind off), hurt/comfort, Younghoon is there for the reader all the damn time 🥺 and yeah that’s it.
Sana: um so I just wrote this when I was very insecure about myself and just wanted to let it out because I am someone who does not know how to express her feelings to someone else despite being very close. I just needed to let these feelings out and I chose to write something about it, and to someone who feels this way I hope you know that it’s okay to feel this was but just know that there are people who are more then glad to be with you and to be your friend :) A huge thanks to @o-onikix Nara for reading this for me and then comforting me :) I love you bitch
Tagging: @cloverdaisies @mosviqu @kimsohn @deoboyznet
Word count: 1162
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You know how you get that unwanted feeling from time to time? Like as if you were just a piece of junk and you did not deserve anything? How your stomach start churning and you feel like you wanna throw up?
That is what you were feeling right now. Everyone was out there, enjoying the time of their lives. It was the 1st of January so everyone was obviously happy, happy that now there would be a new start to their lives, maybe new year means new memories, new opportunities but it was different for you.
You were huddled up in your small corner of the room with thoughts flooding your mind, unwanted thoughts. The ones you always despise from the core of your heart because whenever they came back you would always seem to get insecure about yourself.
Hell you get insecure about everything, about the way you talk, the way your voice is, the way you look, the way you behave. It does not help the fact that you get this constant sinking feeling as if you’re not enough. As if you’re just a burden to everyone you love.
If you ask someone ‘Am I a burden?’ They will obviously say no and whisper sweet words to you, to comfort you but that won’t do anything. It won’t help the fact that you would still continue to feel that way.
Maybe some would say that you should interact with others more, maybe then you would feel this was less but that’s not how it works. Despite being surrounded by people who love and cherish you, you’re a human after all. That jealousy, where you envy others for having better relationships with people you want to get close to but never do because they’re just so hard to approach, the envy you hold for others getting close with the people you have known longer but the new person just immediately got closer to them.
This feeling was like a devil in disguise for you, it would strike you at the most random time of the day and you cannot help but let yourself get sunk into it as if you were just a mere object.
“Y/N, are you in the room love?” You heard a voice call out your name from a distance which made you snap out from your train of thoughts.
Looking up you noticed Younghoon entering the room with a soft smile on his face, a cup of hot chocolate in his hands as he walked towards you “Why are you in here all alone love? We all are out in the backyard together.” Younghoon says softly as he places the cup on the bedside table and gently enters in the warm sheets of the bed beside you.
Intertwining his hands with yours he started playing with your hair soothingly as he hummed to a song, his gentle warm voice filling the room but that did not help with the thoughts which continued running in your mind.
“I just don’t feel like going out there..” you tell him, your voice coming out small as you place your head on his shoulder before you get comfortable against him.
Hearing your answer, Younghoon looks down at you, “And why is that love? What’s bothering you?” Younghoon asks as he leans down and gives your forehead a kiss as he starts patting your head comfortingly which provides you a sense of comfort and warmth.
“I don’t know..it just feels like I don’t belong there, with you guys.” You say as a tear rolls down your cheek making you sniffle. “Like even if I disappear none of them would notice and that just sucks because I know that I am not much of an important person.” You say as you snuggle closer to Younghoon, hating the fact that he has to listen to your negative thoughts on such a special day.
“That’s not true. You’re very much important to all of us, love.” Younghoon whispers in your ear as he continues patting your head with his hands softly as he listens to you speak.
“No you don’t get it. I always get this unwanted feeling inside me suddenly and I hate it. I hate it so much. I start getting insecure about everything I do and I start feeling as if I am just a burden and I just close everyone out. I know that my true nature is just me messing around but when I get this feeling inside me, as if I am just disturbing others by my presence itself I even start questioning my behaviour. I start thinking that maybe I am crossing the boundaries by joking around too much, maybe I bully them too much with the way I behave even though I truly love them and it hurts me knowing that maybe I might have hurt them by something I said. I hate the feeling I get from time to time. It’s frustrating and because of this I cannot even get myself to socialise more. I am afraid that if I approach a person first they will get annoyed, I am afraid to even text someone first because it just feels like I am disturbing them. I hate this feeling so much.” You say as you let out a sob, “Maybe it’s just better if I don’t talk with them again because what if I hurt them? I am sorry.” You whisper the last word as you bury your face in Younghoon’s chest before you let out your sobs, not holding them in anymore.
Younghoon does not say anything as he just pats your back and gives you occasional forehead kisses. He knew that what you needed right now was just someone who would lend you an ear to listen to your worries and a shoulder to cry on and that’s what he would do.
Younghoon could feel his stomach churning the more he heard your cries but he did not know what to do, because all he knows is that this feeling is something you always experience and all he can do about it is be by your side and assure you that you deserve everything.
Pulling you closer to his body, Younghoon drapes the blanket over you and wraps you in it comfortably, “I hope you know that you’re really special to all of us. No matter what happens, there are few people out there who worry about you all the time and think about your well being.” Younghoon whispers in your ear as he picks you up from the bed, “Now come on. Everyone is waiting for your appearance out there.” Saying that Younghoon starts walking out of the room with you in his arms.
Maybe, now that you have people who are closer to you, you will finally get rid of these feelings? Maybe not, but at least you know that there is someone who is always there to comfort you.
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winterchimez · 7 months
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Old Tales, New Beginnings
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(a repost bcs the original masterlist sadly got deleted 😭💔 changed up a few things & tqsm @sungbeam for helping me with the banner i wuv you 🩵)
SUMMARY: Ever wondered what if the stories you've been told growing up had an alternative ending? Well, you're in for a ride as The Boyz retell famous true crime & classic novellas in a different light.
PAIRING: the boyz x f!reader
GENRE: retelling of true crime & classic novellas (more details can be found in each season's masterlist!)
A/N: hello my fellow readers! so initially i wrote beast in the beauty as a standalone series, but as time passed more ideas came popping up and here we are with an OT11 series!! i will try my best to retain the strength to eventually bring you guys all 11 seasons in total!!
as of 23/09/2023, two seasons are now available!! please do check them out, and i would deeply appreciate if you could reblog this to spread the word & it does help motivate me to bring you guys more stories in the future!!
send me an ask/comment to be added into the taglist for the series!!
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S1: Beast in the Beauty (Lee Hyunjae)
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Set in the year 1911 in the streets of Whitechapel, London, a place infamous for its notorious Jack The Ripper murders that haunted the nation for the past decades. 
Except for the fact that the killer after seemingly disappearing for a while at least, decides to strike again. It is up to you as a rookie detective, the handsome yet charming profiler Lee Hyunjae, and your group of friends to finally put the killer behind bars once and for all. 
PAIRING: profiler Hyunjae x detective f!reader
STORY: jack the ripper au
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S2: Redemption of Love (Choi Chanhee, Lee Sangyeon)
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Choi Chanhee—better known as the Phantom of the Opera, has dominated the Paris Opera House with his lifelong partner, Christine Daae, for years. Until one fateful day, an incident forces them to be separated and never to be reunited again.
Decades later, you have begun your journey here at the famous opera house with the help of your fianc��, Lee Sangyeon. After several performances, it was then that you would come face-to-face with the renowned phantom himself, and he is determined to never let you go again, convinced that you were his long-lost partner whom he has not seen in many years.
It is now your choice to make. To give your heart to the once-forgotten phantom? Or to stand firm and marry the love of your life.
PAIRING: phantom of the opera Chanhee x singer f!reader x fiancé Sangyeon
STORY: phantom of the opera au
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S3: tba
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S4: tba
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S5: tba
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S6: tba
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masterlist
taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @hokupi @zzoguri @kyusqult @atinycafe @hanniluvi @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @heemingyu (join my permanent taglist here!)
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jinkoh · 19 days
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'the way that you look tonight got me feeling like damn, i might be the luckiest man alive'
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slow dancing
younghoon x gn!reader
tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, comfort after a panic attack, fluff, yh is a sap, reader is implied to be shorter; SFW
wordcount: 712
a/n: this was supposed to be a songfic for pow's 'slow dancing' but it has somehow become a songfic to sinatra's 'the way you look tonight' instead--either way it's just a tiny little comfort drabble~
Masterlist
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“I’m sorry,” you mumbled for the nth time that evening, curled up on the couch with your favorite blanket that Younghoon had wrapped you up in. 
He let out a little huff. “Why are you still apologizing? There’s nothing to apologize for in the first place.”
You pulled your knees closer to your body. “It’s just—we’ve been planning to go to that party since forever.”
“I’m sure there’s still a bunch of other parties we can go to. It’s fine.”
“Really?” You finally dared to raise your head and meet his gaze with your puffy red eyes. He was smiling softly and it made you tear up all over again. 
His eyes widened in surprise and he immediately reached out to you, using the sleeves of his hoodie to gently dab the tears away. 
“Don’t cry, don’t cry,” he almost begged and you heard the way his voice quivered and saw how his lower lip trembled. “You know if you cry, I’ll cry too.”
“Sorry,” you pressed out, the tears falling non stop now, “it’s just—I was really looking forward to this party, I really wanted to go, but now I ruined it all with my dumb panic attack and—I really wanted to go.”
“I know, I know,” he replied, still softly wiping away your tears, “but we can go to other parties.”
“But there’s not many fancy ones like that." You sniffed. "I wanted to slow dance with you."
That put a smile on his face. "Is that why you're so sad? Because you wanted to dance with me?"
You shrugged. Maybe it was a silly reason. But somehow that kind of thing just seemed so romantic to you. You'd never gotten to go to a prom with someone you'd liked or even dated during your schooldays, so attending this fancy party with Younghoon had somehow felt like a chance to make your little teenage dreams come true. Not that it still mattered now that you were staying home because you didn't feel stable enough to be in a crowd, not to mention the fact that you probably looked like a pufferfish from all the crying.
"We can dance here though," he grinned, already pulling out his phone and connecting it to your speakers. Frank Sinatra's The Way You Look Tonight started playing and it felt a little ironic with Younghoon still in his dress pants and white shirt, practically ready to go, while you had tousled hair and wore ratty pajamas. He reached for your hand that was hidden somewhere under the fuzzy blanket. "We'll have our own party."
"That's not the same," you complained but you let him pull you to your feet anyway.
"Because it's better," he said, resting his free hand on your back and moving to the jazzy music. You let him do as he pleased and when he playfully twirled you around you even found yourself smiling. Spurred on by your reaction he did it again and again, until you were a dizzy giggling mess, almost collapsing into his arms. He easily caught you, resting his hands on your lower back and pulling you a little closer. You looked up, your lungs still full of laughter, to find him already gazing at you with the fondest smile on his lips.
"What?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Mhm," he shook his head, "nothing. I was just thinking I might be the luckiest man alive."
You let out a chuckle. "What would make you think that?"
Younghoon shrugged. "Maybe it's the way you look tonight."
"Really?" You looked down at your sorry state. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," he leaned down and left a small peck on the tip of your nose. "You're lovely with your smile so warm and cheeks so soft—"
You giggled, recognizing the lyrics even though the song was long over. "Are you stealing from Sinatra right now?" 
"Well, it's because he has a point. There is nothing for me but to love you and the way you look tonight."
You playfully nudged his shoulder, but you couldn't deny that his words made you feel warm and loved. "You're a sap."
"I'm your sap."
"Yeah," you got onto your tippy-toes to kiss him and you felt his smile against your lips. "All mine."
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Masterlist
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mingtinys · 1 month
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back in the game
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pairing : kim younghoon x gn!reader
maverick!au , angst , hurt / comfort
warnings : mentions of fire , blood , and death
word count : 0.7 k
requested ? no
a/n : maverick and tbz lore has always been so interesting to me, SO expect plenty of lore-based boyz fics
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Younghoon still dreams on the brink of suffocation. With smoke twirling in the orange glow of his world burning around him. Infiltrating the makeshift inferno trapping him and filling his lungs.
Every night, for nearly two months, the memory plagues his sleep. Forced to relive every excruciating second down to the very last detail.
It always starts the same, with you lying slumped in his arms. Short, sputtering, gasps escaping your red-tinged lips as he cradles you against his chest. His left hand is warm, coated in dark red as it desperately clamps down on the gaping wound in your abdomen. But no amount of pressure can stop your blood from pooling on the dirty cement below. At this point, it's a race to see what kills you first. The rebar through your stomach or the fire spreading through the compound.
The collapsed steel around him moans as it bows from the heat. The sound akin to the weathered wood of an old house bearing its final storm. Ash flurries around like snow from above. Each flake hissing as they singe his clammy skin.
"Please!" He cries, between fits of coughs. His throat too parched for his vocal cords to produce anything but a hoarse whimper. "Someone! We're down here, please..."
But in his dreams, Eric doesn't find him. Doesn't hear his tattered screams through the rubble. Doesn't tear through the remains, piece by piece, scorching his hands on the hot metal in the process. Sangyeon doesn't pull him from his prison and rush you to Jacob for treatment just in the nick of time.
In his dreams, you go limp, and Younghoon spends his final minutes on earth alone. Left to choke on the stench of iron and smoke. Those eight neon letters burned into his brain.
MAVERICK.
A sick, twisted, game.
It's not fair.
How could any of what happened ever be justified in their eyes? The inhumanity. All that training just to treat them as expendable tools. Like–
"Younghoon," you call softly. Like anything louder would shatter what's left of him. "Younghoon, love, it's too cold to be out here at this hour."
Younghoon can't remember how long it's been since he awoke from his personal hell. All he can recall after waking were the four walls closing in on him. The sweat drenched his back and hairline. Dread flooding his veins, mind, and lungs. Panic lighting every neuron ablaze until it propelled him into the crisp night.
He thought he could escape it out here. But his chair creaks against the wooden porch as he rocks. Creaks like steel beams. The stars litter the sky like ash. The rain pipe drips and pools like your blood–
"Hey," gentle fingers tilt his chin up to your worried gaze. "You're not there." It's times like tonight, when you tether Younghoon to his reality, that he finally feels safe enough to let his emotions catch up to him.
"Was it the same nightmare?" You ask even though you already know.
His answer comes in the form of teary eyes and an outstretched hand that tugs at the hem of your shirt. A silent plea for comfort. Certainty. Confirmation you won't slip away when his eyes shut. Shaky fingers dip under the soft fabric and ghost the scarred skin beneath. You shudder, no doubt with your own memories of that night. One's you've refused to speak of since. Younghoon doesn't know just how much of it you remember, just that the nightmares find you at this hour as well.
Strained sobs break the silence of the night. You cradle his head against your stomach to muffle them. Delicate fingers comb through his hair in an attempt to soothe, though they do little to quell his tears. Younghoon clutches at any part of you he can grasp. Refusing to let death rip you from his arms once more.
"I can't..." He gasps, "–I can't breathe."
You assure him he can. "Just follow me, okay? In–" you trail a finger up his spine "– then out," and back down. You breathe with him, letting your finger be the metronome to guide him. A few more and the tension in his muscles melts away into exhaustion.
Finally, Younghoon feels the smoke clear from his lungs.
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blizzardfluffykpop · 2 months
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Broken Belts
Summary: Of course, the one day you decide to take it out for a spin, your classic car decides the repairs you were avoiding need immediate maintenance. Leading to you needing to head to a garage to fix them.
Oneshot
Fluff, Strangers to Dating, Fast burn?
Possible Warning?: Referring to a car as ‘Baby’.
Word Count: 4,956
‘Old-School’ Mechanic! Younghoon X Reader
[Long a/n w/info to go: If you’re changing your serpentine belt when it’s past due as you will do here, pls change the pulleys too- but rn you will not do that :) Very simplified car terminology: crankshaft: rotates pistons which runs the engine, alternator: keeps the battery charged, power steering: helps you turn easily, idler: keeps the engine running while it’s ‘sitting’, and water pump runs water throughout the system. Serpentine belt: The belt that keeps all the pulleys (that are attached to above terms) in time with each other, can be one or multiple. In this fic there will be two: A power steering serpentine belt & an air conditioning belt. Lastly, the two cars featured are a: ‘70 Boss 302 Mustang and a ‘71 Maverick. Lastly but not least; a special thanks to @jinkoh for helping inspire another Younghoon fic.].
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You knew better. You swore you knew better, but even with the loud squealing of the serpentine belt, you still kept driving it. Because, of course, it wouldn’t break before you had time to change it. After all, it was just the first few days of summer. You wanted to enjoy the weekend with your Boss 302 Mustang, whether or not it was screaming. You’d replace them during the week when you had the time, but this was the first weekend, so it’d be fine. Your air conditioning had been malfunctioning recently, but in your mind, it was because the car was fifty-some years old. You just rolled the windows down and enjoyed the weather. Maybe, if it was a newer car, the computer would be screaming at you now to see a specialist. But that was the pleasure of older cars. You never had to deal with extra lights telling you the exact mileage when to do things. You could do it at your leisure, and like the serpentine belt, you’d fix it at your leisure.
So, with that thought in mind, at the turn of the green light, you slammed on the gas, the car roaring as you sped down the route ten miles over the speed limit. Your car needed to feel the breeze, even if it meant a ticket. You laugh as you continue down the sunset strip. It feels good to be behind the wheel after two seasons of waiting. You make it through two more green lights before hitting another red light. You pout and wait for it to turn green as you notice you're the only one waiting at the intersection. When the light changes, you get on it again, flying through the intersection. 
You start turning your wheel to follow the curve when you hear a ‘snap’ sound over your radio. Your eyes widen as you lose power steering. Maybe it was good that your daily driver told you when to change things. “No, no, you promised me a nice weekend. Come on, baby.” You gulp as the wheel gets harder to turn. You make it past the curve, throwing your four-ways on, and a hundred feet after it, manage to pull it over onto the side of the road. You check it’s clear before popping the hood, getting out of the car, and shutting the door. You slip your fingers between the grill and opening and move the latch to the side, lifting up the hood, praying it isn’t one of the belts. You raise it until you can put the prop inside the slot. You let the hood rest on it before looking over the engine before locking eyes with the two-belt pulley system. It was the reason why you were avoiding repairing it this weekend. It was rotten to deal with one, but two? That's nightmare fuel. You look at the air conditioning belt and see it’s intact even though it’s dry-rotted. You sigh in relief before checking the power steering belt and watch as it falls off and onto the ground. You look up to the sky before shaking your head, “Well… I definitely can’t make it home, but I can get it to a garage at least.” 
You get on your knees and grab the fallen belt. You check it over to see the clean snap and dry rot. And shake your head again, “There goes my nice weekend.” With a sigh, “I know, I know it’s my fault. I should have fixed you the second I heard your squealing. But I’ll fix you now, baby. It’s okay.” You look for the dimension numbers as you listen to the soft breeze. You hum as you type them on your phone as someone zooms past you reminding you you're still stuck on the road in the middle of nowhere. You lift the hood off the prop, locking it in place. You lower the hood down gently and let it drop the rest of the way. It clicks in place, and you get back inside your car. 
You look up the nearest garages, looking for one with spaces to rent and a mechanic experienced in older automobiles. And luckily, the closest happens to be Younghoon’s Garage, an automotive repair shop. You read further to see he specializes in classic car maintenance and dabbles in the newer stuff. And that he allows for people to rent out garage spaces to work on their car. You sigh in relief. It was going to be okay. You didn’t have to deal with an inexperienced mechanic telling you how to work on your car. Nor did you have to worry about letting someone work on your baby, either. 
You call up the garage and hear the voice of a person around your age answer, “Younghoon’s garage; what can I help you with?” You gulp your nervousness back; it's probably just the mechanic’s son taking the call. “Uh, I need to rent a garage today.” He hums on the other line, “Okay~ I have three available. Feel free to bring your car down any time today before six, or I won’t be able to let you in.” You thank him and tell him you’re two miles away and you’ll be there soon. “Okay, I’ll be waiting!” You hang up and place the belt on the floor. You turn your car over, pressing in the clutch, scolding your car, “Now, don’t give me any more troubles until we get to the shop, baby.” You shift it down to first, release the handbrake, and give it some gas before checking to see it’s clear. You grit your teeth as you turn the wheel to get it on the road before heading to the garage. 
You couldn’t be happier to see the old-fashioned neon sign saying, “Younghoon’s Garage.” You groan as you turn the wheel, putting everything into it just to make it turn left. As you pull in, you see someone leaning against the entryway of a garage door. His hair is slightly in his eyes as he looks down at the ground. He looks up as you get closer, and you see him for the first time. You’ve never seen someone make a gray denim overshirt and white tee look so good. You huff out a breath as he waves you in, walking to the back of the garage. He guides you onto the lift, and if you weren’t struggling behind the wheel, you would have been stunned by his pretty smile. When he motions for you to stop, you tiredly put it into park, putting the handbrake down before turning it off. You shake your hands, getting the feeling back in them after gripping the wheel tightly to maneuver it. 
You open your door and get out to see him waiting for you. He greets you with a warm smile, and you smile back as you shut the door behind you, “Hi, I’m (Y/n).” And he smiles, “Nice to meet you, I’m Younghoon.” You stop your jaw from dropping and tell him it’s nice to meet him, too. You didn’t expect him to be the owner. He looks at your car, “Your belt was squealing.” You sigh, “I know…” He shrugs as he laughs, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Did the power steering belt snap? It looked like you were struggling to turn it.” You nod, and he pats your shoulder, “I’m glad you got here safe then.” You sigh, “Me too.” He smiles and tells you, “Anyways, the garage is all yours to use! If you need parts or anything. Feel free to see my office.” He points to the door that leads out of the garage. He gives you one last smile before leaving, and you smile back.
You roll down the garage door, not wanting to deal with the slight breeze blowing inside while you’re working. You prop the hood up and head to the toolboxes, looking for the sockets and wrenches. You take the socket wrench with you and test the sockets against the bolt until you find the right size. And with ease, you loosen the idler pulley. You ratchet it back into place after removing the belt. You read the dimensions and write it down on your phone before heading to Younghoon's office. You open the door and find he’s nowhere to be found. You look down at the counter, trying to figure out what to do. When you see a ripped sheet of notebook paper, “(Y/n), if you need me, I’m in the garage two doors down!” You smile, not expecting his penmanship to be so pretty. You walk out the front door and hear the loud sounds of an air ratchet. You follow them to the garage he told you he’d be in. And see him pulling a back tire off of a Maverick. You take the sight in momentarily before reminding yourself that you’re here to work on your vehicle, not admire the shop owner. You come up to him, and before you can say anything, he rolls the tire up against the wall and sees you first. “Hey, (Y/n)! Whatcha ya need?” You smile, “My belts, but I can wait for you to finish this up.” He shakes his head, wipes his hands off on a white towel, and gets off the roller, “No need! I have another hour to replace the brakes on this Maverick.” You laugh and shrug, “If you say so.” 
He leads you back to the shop, and that’s when you catch the smell of his cologne for the first time. You shake your head; of course, he smells good too. He holds the door open for you and lets you in. He runs his hand through his hair as he asks, “What sizes?” You tell him, and he nods, “I’ll go get them from the back.” You watch him disappear behind the shelving units. He peeks his head out for a second, and you resist smiling about how cute he is as he asks, “Anything else?” You shake your head and tell him, “No, I’m good.” He comes the rest of the way out, and you have to remind your heart that even if looks cute, he’s just doing his job. You thank him as he gently puts them in your hands. He heads out the front door while you head back out the side door to your garage.
After setting the new ones down, you take and toss the old ones into the rubber disposable bin. You find a clean rag and wet it with soap and water to clean off the pulleys. One dirty rag later, everything is cleaned and ready for its new belts. You head to your glovebox and pull out the modified diagram you made when you last replaced the belts. You mutter to yourself, “Next time, I’m getting a serpentine kit, so I only have to fix one belt.” You sigh as you look over your notes before slipping the new power steering belt out of its packaging. You fold and put it away, having already memorized the modified diagram. You slip it underneath the crankshaft pulley, before pulling the belt up to the alternator pulley, and slipping it over it. The easy part is over. You slide it underneath the water pump before moving the belt to where the power steering pulley is to wind it around. You work the belt up to the pulley, and it starts giving you a hard time. It takes two tries before you can muster all of your strength in your hands to force it up and over. You let out a breath of relief and take a break for water, sitting on the shop chair, knowing that the worst belt was over.
You take your time before heading back to the engine. The last step would be easy. All you had to do was get this over and out of this garage, and you’d be set for the next forty to seventy thousand miles if you’d play your cards right. You sigh as you pull the big belt out of its packaging and play with it, debating if your car was worth the trouble. You shake your head, deciding to do it, checking your diagram one last time before slipping the belt under the crankshaft pulley. After several minutes of struggling, you finally get the belt over the idler pulley. You grumble at it before attempting to push it over the a/c pulley. You try several more times but continue to come up short, just getting it to skim the top of it, not being able to push it over. You decide to let it go, thinking it’ll rest on the idler, and you watch as it slips right off both and onto the ground. 
Having enough, you yell at it, “You gotta be kidding me!” You get down on your knees and pull it off the floor as you hear the office door fly open. You look to see Younghoon rushing out, “I heard you yell! Are you okay!?” You glare at the belt, “I’m okay… just mad at an inanimate object.” He chuckles, “You had me worried there.” After a moment, he gently asks, “Can I help?” You give him a look, “Wouldn’t that cost more…” He shakes his head with a laugh as he tells you, “You’ve already spent three hours here. I’ve got my money's worth.” You chuckle, “I guess so. And only if you want to.” He smiles and comes around to the front beside you, “Which belt are you working on?” You pull your diagram out showing him, “The air conditioning belt.” He nods, looking over it as he memorizes it, “Okay, let’s do it together.” 
He rolls his gray sleeves up before holding his hand out for the belt. You hand it over, and he has you switch sides. He reaches his arm down and slips it under the crankshaft pulley. When he lifts his head, he compliments you, “You did well on the other belt!” You thank him, and he lets you pull it over the idler, and with a struggle, you push it over. His arm brushes yours as he reaches for the belt, “You hold it tight on the idler, and I’ll try to push it over the AC, okay?” You nod and clasp your hand over it so it doesn’t move off of the pulley. And with a grunt, he shoves it over, and your jaw drops before you go, “I loosened it up for you.” He looks over at you, and he winks, “Sure.” You look away to hide your fluster making a show of picking up your socket wrench. And he asks, “What size do you have so we can make this job go quicker?” You tell him, and he walks away as you start tightening down the bolts. He leans down beside you, putting his arm inside to tighten the crankshaft pulley. As you bump his side, you look over at him and give him an awkward smile, and he laughs as he does the same. You both continue bumping into each other until it’s all set in place, exchanging little smiles each time. 
Once it’s all seated in place and perfect, he goes, “Start ‘er up!” You grin, and he backs up from the front as you hop inside and turn it over, giving it some gas until it roars. You pop out, and he goes, “Well, it hasn’t come flying off yet. So I think we did a good job.” You smile, “I think so too!” You both get closer, looking over the engine, watching the two belts spin around the pulleys. You step back, and he raises his hand up, you smile as you give him a high five, and he smiles back. You head back inside your car and turn it off. When you pop back out, he asks, “What do you say to takeout?” You blink at him, “Huh?” He tells you, “You’ve been here for almost three and a half hours and haven’t eaten. And I’m quite hungry for dinner. So, what do you say to takeout?” You shake your head, “You don’t have to-” He shakes his head back at you, “No, you’ve worked your ass off to get this thing here, and then you had to struggle with these belts. So what would you like?” You smile, “Something delicious.” He nods, “I know just the place. You get everything cleaned up, and I’ll order, okay?” You nod, “Sounds good.” 
He heads to his office while you put all the tools you’ve borrowed away into their proper places. Throwing the dirty rag into a bucket for rags before heading back to your car and lifting the hood up off the prop, setting that down first before you shut the hood. You head to his office to see him bringing a chair in for you to sit on and hold your hands out, “Got anywhere to wash my hands?” He nods, “Yeah,” he moves from behind his desk and shows you to it. “Feel free to use it how you like.” You nod and give him a small, “Thanks!” You make your way back just as he’s placing the bags of food down. He hears you walking towards him and goes, “Just in time~” You smile and walk over as you figure out whose box is which. 
As you eat, you think about what to say to him. When it hits you, you tell him, “You know, I thought you were an old man.” He tilts his head at you as he leans back, “Why’s that?” You laugh, “You pretty much work only on classic cars. And when you answered, I thought I was talking to the owner's son or something.” He runs his hand through his hair as his lips press together, “Oh, I hope it was a pleasant surprise.” You laugh, “Yeah, it was nice.” He smiles, and after a pause, he says, “You know, we’re a little odd?” You ask, “Why’s that?” And he tells you, “We both like working on old cars.” You shake your head, “I guess we are a little odd.” You both giggle, and he claps his hands together, which makes you laugh even harder. Finding it endearing, the words, “So cute,” slip out before you can stop them. Your eyes go wide, and you quickly look down, digging into your food, acting as if your food made you say it. You don’t see his ears turn red, but you feel his stare on you as you eat, yet he doesn’t say anything. So you figure he just brushed it off. After a few moments of silence, he says, “You know I’ve never worked on a Boss until today.” You gasp, finally looking up at him, “What about ridden in one?” He shakes his head, “Never. Only ever seen them at car shows.” You smile as you tell him, “I guess we’ll have to change that. What do you say we take my car for a test drive after this?” He grins, “I’d like that.” You eat another bite, and he asks, “What do you say to ice cream?” You smile, “I’d like that. It'll be my treat for helping me.” He smiles, “Okay, and I’ll guide you to it while you show me what your baby can do~” You grin, “Okay!” 
When you’ve both finished eating, you clean up your trash and toss it in the can. He clicks the button for the garage and leads you out, “I’ll have to shut from inside, but I’ll guide you off, okay?” You nod and head to your car. Hopping in, you turn it over, checking the door is fully up before you start easing the car off the lift, looking over to the side to see him motioning you. You gulp as you hear your back tires hit the ramp, and he smiles at you, encouraging you to keep going. You get your car off the lift and onto the pavement outside and watch as the garage door shuts in front of you. He comes out of the shop with his keys in hand, and you pop the door open for him, “Hi.” He smiles, “Hi.” You watch as he sinks into the seat, his knees practically to his chest. And you both laugh before you say, “You can put the seat back.” He scoots the chair and leans it back. And with a sigh, he says, “That's a lot more comfortable.” You shake your head, still laughing, “I bet.” Making sure his seatbelt is on, you ask, “Ready?” He smirks, “Born ready.” 
You reverse until you can spin it around and drive onto the main route. Instead of hearing the squealing, you hear the gentle roar of your motor. And he tells you, “It already sounds better.” You smile at him as you shift into first gear, “It does.” You smoothly transition from second to third gear as you get up to speed. He relaxes in the seat as he watches you drive, and you feel excitement as you race down the road. You pat the wheel, “That’s it, baby~” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him smiling at you, “What?” He shrugs his shoulders, “Nothing.” You ask, “You sure?” He smiles, “You just look good behind the wheel.” You blush, “Is that so?” He hums, “Yeah.” He doesn’t say anything else, and you both listen to the radio, unsure of what else to say. 
You shift it into fourth as the speed limit finally reaches seventy. And he lets out a little cheer, and you grin over at him, and he asks, “How fast can it go?” You smirk, “Wanna find out?” He nods excitedly, and you check behind you to see an empty street. You look at him with a smirk before slamming down on the gas and taking off. You watch as you fly up to eighty, quickly hitting ninety. You grin as you push a hundred, “It can go faster if you’re up for it?” As you take a glimpse at him, you see his sparkling eyes, “Hell yeah!” Your grip on the wheel gets tighter as you watch the road more intensely, and just as you hit 110, you see headlights coming towards you. You ease up on the gas as you pout, “We could have hit a hundred and thirty…” Your speed quickly drops, and he says, “Well if it’s any consultation-” You look over at him as your gauge drops back down to a safe seventy, “Hmm?” He grins, putting his hand over your other hand that’s now resting on the shifter, and links his fingers through yours, “That was the coolest experience I’ve had in months!” You giggle at him, “I’m glad you enjoyed it~” He smiles as he tells you, “And we’re about an intersection from the ice cream place.” You grin, “That’s even better news!” You slow down further as you get through the intersection. You notice his hand still over yours and squeeze his fingers as you shift down. He tells you to turn left as you shift into second. With one hand, you spin the wheel left and pull into the ice cream stand. You pull in, put into park, and look at his hand. He gasps as he quickly removes it from yours, and you resist your pout until he says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was-” You shake your head, “I liked it.” 
You get out of the car and offer him your hand, and he smiles as he links his hand in yours. You order your ice creams and pay for them before heading to the pickup line. You both talk quietly as you wait in front of the window. The person behind the window asks, “One cone and one sundae?” You both nod and take yours and some napkins before walking away, “Where do you want to sit?” He looks at the tree close to the car, “Underneath the tree?” You smile, “Sounds good to me.” You sit side by side underneath the tree while the sun slowly starts setting in the sky, and you ask, “So, what do you like to do for fun?” He smiles, “Watch movies and play video games.” You nod as you eat another bite of ice cream, and he asks, “What about you?” You smile as you tell him before asking, “Got any pets?” His eyes twinkle as he tells you about Bori and shows you photos of her. You grin, “She’s so cute!” He smiles, “The cutest.” 
You two continue talking until you finish your ice cream. You get up together and throw away your trash. “Since you’ve never worked on one or rode in one before. Have you driven one?” He shakes his head no, and you ask, “Do you want to?” He blinks, “Seriously?” You hum before you ask, “You’ve driven a manual before, right?” He nods, and you smile as you hold your keys out to him, “I trust you.” He takes them in his hands, “You sure?” You agree as you head to the passenger side, “It’s not often I get to sit over here.” He looks at you over the roof, “Well, today’s your lucky day then.” You grimace before you say, “Overall, yeah.” He laughs, “Maybe not entirely. But how about right now?” You smirk, “It's better cause you're here.” He laughs as he sits down and shakes his head at you. He has to push the seat back again as you adjust your seat to have a straighter back. You both shut your doors and put on your seatbelts before he looks over at you and turns it over, giving it a little gas before it roars to life. 
He lets up on the handbrake and engages the clutch, letting it slide into first. You watch him as he sticks his tongue out while he pulls out of the parking spot to concentrate. You giggle as you look at him, and he looks over at you and winks. You shake your head, and he pulls onto the road and shifts into second, quickly changing into third, then fourth as he gets it up to seventy. When he’s comfortable driving, no longer concentrating, you bump his hand that’s resting above the shifter. He grins over at you and takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers. 
You look at your joined hands and wonder how today went from rotten to wonderful. But as you trail your eyes up to his, “It was because of you.” He gives you an odd look, “Huh?” And you smile, “You made my day go from rotten to wonderful.” He squeezes your fingers, “My day was boring before you showed up.” You laugh, “Is that because I gave you something to do?” He shakes his head, “No. It’s not often someone as pretty as you walks into my shop.” You pout, “How often is not often?” He smiles, “Well, considering I’ve only seen you once? Once.” You roll your eyes, “Smooth,” but grin as you watch the streetlights fly past you. 
You let his hand go so he can shift down when you see the shop in the distance. And before your hand can completely part from his, his pinky catches yours. You giggle as he shifts with your hand still partially in his. He slows down and parks in front of the garage you were in before. When you have to get out of the car, it’s his turn to pout as he shuts off your car. “What?” You ask as you shut the door behind you, “I still want to hold your hand.” You laugh as you hold your hand out for him to take again, “Okay.” He takes your hand in his and leads you to the shop door. He unlocks it and turns the light on before walking to his desk and sitting on his shop chair. 
He asks you to sit down in yours, and you do, before you ask, “So, how much do I owe you?” He looks back at you, “I don’t feel like it’s right to charge you after we just went on a date…” You roll your eyes, “Before that, I was just a regular customer.” He shakes his head, “Regular customers are old gearheads…” You laugh, “So does that make me special, or do you invite them to eat dinner with you too?” His face twists up in disgust as you cackle, “Ew…” You ask again, “Anyways, what’s the total?” He sighs, “$80…” You roll your eyes, “The real total…” He shakes his head, “I only charge $27 an hour.” “Really? Even for the parts?” He shakes his head, “I can’t charge you for them when I helped you.” You give him a confused look, “But you only helped me with one…” He shrugs, “And?” You blink at him, “Why?” He grins, “Because you’re cute.” You shake your head at him, “I don’t know how you stay in business.” He smirks, “Probably because you never came in before.” You blush, and with your free hand, you fish out your card and shove it into the card reader. “What if I want to charge you something?” He blinks at you, “What do you mean?” You grin as you ask, “A date with me on Friday?” He gives you a small smile, “I would go on a date with you for free…” You shrug, “Okay, so free of charge, what do you say to date with me on Friday?” He grins, “I’d love to.”
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momhwa-agenda · 4 months
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frosting the snowman
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PAIRING: Younghoon/AFAB Reader
WARNINGS: Fluff, mentions of food, smut (18+ MINORS DNI!!), oral sex (m and f receiving), finger sucking, food play.
SUMMARY: Christmas is in the air and love is in bloom as your crush and friend, Kim Younghoon, joins in baking goodies with you. As the scent of holiday treats fill the kitchen, the question lingers: is it the sweetness of sugar that makes the moment special, or is it the tender kiss that finally reveals the unspoken feelings between you two?
A/N: I'm not a festive person ngnd but this idea popped in my head and I just had to write it. Suuuupeeer late I know, the ideas just weren't flowing until now :')
・:*.⋆❀⋆.*:・
Two weeks before Christmas day, the warmth of the oven filled the kitchen as you meticulously prepared treats for your loved ones. The scent of gingerbread and sugar lingered in the air, creating a sweet festive atmosphere. You were determined to make this holiday season special, but the stress of the task at hand was apparent.
Enter Younghoon, your long-time friend who had harbored an unspoken crush on you. He was a sweetheart, always ready to offer a helping hand. As you juggled mixing bowls and recipe cards, Younghoon eagerly volunteered to assist, drawn by the opportunity to be closer to you.
Though you adored him, your control-freak nature was well-known, even to Younghoon. Every step of the baking process was executed precisely as you directed. Younghoon, determined to make the treats perfect not just for your family and friends, but also to impress you, followed your orders diligently.
Amidst the flour and sugar, a sweet love story began to bloom. Younghoon, ever the gentleman, fed you a bit of batter mix, his eyes locked onto yours in hopes of approval. The tension between you two was palpable, a mix of unspoken feelings and the shared joy of creating something beautiful together. Every detail, no matter how small, became significant to both of you. For you it was the focused look on Younghoon’s face as he promptly executed each task you gave him, making your heart flutter. In his case, he was fascinated by your delicate touch as you prepared the pastries.
As the baking continued, you realized that perhaps it was time to loosen up a little. A playful smudging of sugar glaze on each other's faces led to a mini flour squabble, laughter echoing through the kitchen. Love was in the air, and the once stressful task became a delightful adventure shared between two souls on the brink of something more.
“Hoonie, my hands are tired, please help me mix the batter,” you place the bowl on the counter to fix the strands of hair that strayed away from your clip. 
“See. You have cute pixie arms that’s why” he teases while vigorously mixing the batter. You sneer at him and without looking he just knows the face you made, continuing his work on the batter. You’re about to leave and take care of the finished treats but stop to marvel at the muscles and veins on his hands as he beats the batter. And the forearms…Wonder what it would look like if he was shoving his fingers in my cunt. At the thought of your best friend fingering you, it was your cue to return to the batch of treats that were up for packing.
***
With the rest of the treats packed in their boxes, all that was left was putting icing and decorating the mini cakes. In a moment of closeness, you stood behind Younghoon, taking his hands in yours to guide him in creating perfect icing swirls. The proximity sparked an electric connection between you, and both of you were acutely aware of the subtle touches and shared warmth. Younghoon’s brain fought to focus on the detail you were showing to him, but his brain was in the gutter imagining your hands on his cock.
As your fingers rubbed on top of his, a magnetic pull seemed to urge you both to take that leap. The air between you thickened, and when you finally pulled apart, you found yourselves locked in a gaze that spoke volumes. The desire to bridge the gap and share a kiss, a sweet temptation neither of you could resist.
“There, just like that,” you whispered, the words hanging between you like a promise. You meant the pastry but even you don’t know if this was still about the cakes. Younghoon's mind was racing, and your lips…so close yet so far, became an irresistible temptation. The ache to feel the softness of your lips against his own was undeniable. 
You’re interrupted when your hand accidentally presses on the pastry bag, slightly coating your fingers with icing. “Oh my, oh my god” you’re about to wipe your hands on your apron but to your surprise, Younghoon takes your hand bringing it to his lips and licks the icing off.
Okay that does it. You tiptoe to grab his face, smashing your lips together. Tasting a bit of the icing on his lips, the tip of your tongue prods at his lips for entrance, and Younghoon opens his mouth, intertwining your tongues together.
God, your lips felt so good, Younghoon thought, sighing into the kiss. 
Time seemed to stand still as the warmth of the kitchen was replaced by the warmth of each other's embrace, and desperate moans as you made out. You’re both breathing heavily when you pull apart from each other. It takes a while until Younghoon huskily tells you “We need to finish…the sweets I mean” you giggle realizing how suggestive he sounded.
“Yeah I should…yes” you stammer.
***
“And we're done!” you happily exclaim, the pastries neatly packed in gift boxes, leaving only the cleanup ahead. “Ah, ah," Younghoon interjects, noticing your approach to the dishes. “You've worked enough. You should rest.” He takes your hands in his, and you can't help but yearn for the touch of his lips once more. Despite the kiss affirming the mutual feelings between you, initiating it again feels both new and intense, especially since this is your best friend.
“There's some leftovers if you want,” you casually mention, blissfully unaware of how sweet and seductive your voice sounds or the alluring look in your eyes. Younghoon, ablaze with desire, longs to kiss you and feel your warmth enveloping him.
As you indulge in the remaining treats, a palpable heat fills the room, both of your bodies silently yearning to melt into each other once again. “You're really talented at baking,” Younghoon compliments, his gaze lingering on your lips, now lightly tinted with sugar glaze. Your cheeks flush, and you divert your eyes.
“What? It's true!”
"You're not so bad yourself, either," you respond with a smile. "Thank you for helping me out."
“It's no trouble at all, Y/n. Anything for you,” he says, his eyes sincere and warm. As you contemplate introducing a new topic to break the silence, Younghoon beats you to it. Leaning closer, he runs his thumb near your lips, causing your heart to do a backflip. “So messy” he chuckles. Your toes curl in anticipation as he locks lips with you once more.
He licks the sugary tint on your lips before filling your mouth with his tongue. Your hands wander to his neck, moving down to tug at his shirt. With both hands, Younghoon takes you by the waist, placing you to sit on the table. He moves himself in between your legs, as you continue to kiss. You reach up to pull his hair, eliciting a pornographic moan from Younghoon. You pull away, staring into him with hooded eyes, while you take his hand and press it against the pool forming between your legs. When he feels the wetness on your nethers, he licks and sucks your neck and you start to moan when he slides his hands under your bottoms, tugging at your underwear.
“Mmmph, wait” you press on his chest, signaling him to stop. “Get the icing bag”
With the icing on hand, Younghoon understands what you desire when you hastily remove your top and bra, exposing your breasts to Younghoon. 
He takes your breath away when he draws a trail of icing above your breasts, then proceeds to lick it off of you. He relishes at your plump breasts and pert nipples; practically making out with them. You arch your back, giving him free access to suck and lick your sensitive nipples. Younghoon presses his palm on your stomach, gently pushing you to lie on your back on the table. He mouths sloppy wet kisses on your body, moving torturously slowly towards the place you want him to be. 
Not wanting to wait any longer, you lift his head up, pulling him away for you to forcefully remove his shirt. Your lips collide as you both remove every article of clothing, groping each other’s bodies once your bodies were bare. Taking the icing bag, you draw some icing on top of Younghoon’s chest as he watches. His breath hitches when you spread the icing all over his torso, inching closer to his cock. You pause just to look up at him, smirking while you coat the head of his shaft with icing. As much as Younghoon felt his eyes closing from the electrifying feel of your tongue on his cock, and the sight of you on your knees, it felt wrong to look away from you. With your eyes glued on him, you swirl your tongue around his tip, down to his length and exploring every detail of his cock.
Younghoon whimpered, biting his lip. Tears pricked his eyes at the delicious sensation. 
“Don’t hold back. I want you to moan all you want, Hoonie” you say before lowering him deeper into your mouth. “Ahh fuck!” he exclaims, gripping your hair. 
It was insane how you both ended up like this. Dancing around each other, unsure of whether the feelings were mutual, to kissing while baking, and now you were hollowing out your cheeks, around Youngoon’s veiny cock. When Younghoon tugs at your hair, you moan with him still in your mouth, sending vibrations up his member. You start moving faster with his hand on your head, you start to feel dizzy. God he tastes so good.
Younghoon throws his head back, his moans growing erratic as you take him to his release. When he looks down his cock throbs at the sight. You’re in a daze with his cum trickling down your lips. “Younghoon,” you moan still on your knees, only your thighs are wide open and you’re rubbing your sopping cunt.
The sight itself possesses Younghoon to take you in his arms, and gently set you down on the table. “I want to return the favor” he whispers. Spreading your legs wide, he dives into your glistening pussy and my god did you taste sweet. A surge of electrifying pleasure made its way from your core spreading all over your body. You admit your best friend was the first thought on your mind when you masturbated. You grew obsessed with ideas on how he would eat you out, that now it felt so surreal. Both of your dreams turning into reality. Younghoon took his time lapping at your soaked pussy lips, satisfied in giving you pleasure the way you did with him earlier. At the same time, he was immersed with everything about your cunt. Out of curiosity and hunger, he drives his tongue down your hole causing you to close your thighs around him. 
“Younghoon, fuck! I…” you whined, pushing him closer to eat your cunt. You’re writhing and grabbing the end of the table, so overwhelmed with pleasure. A part of you thinks you can’t handle it anymore, but the way Younghoon was taking in all your juices and making you feel good, you thought you could stay like this forever.
“AH! YOUNGHOON FUCK PLEASE OH!” your orgasm takes you by surprise leaving you to scream a mess of words. You almost feel bad about Younghoon’s skull getting crushed, but the tight grip on his hair, urging him to drink up your release says otherwise.
When Younghoon lifts his head up, you’re both giggling. To think both of you just gave each other oral, and yet here you were giggling like teenagers. You couldn’t help it. His face was a mess, cum staining his mouth, while his hair stuck to his forehead soaking in sweat and your juices.
In the aftermath of the intense experience, you beckon him for another kiss. Both of you share smiles during the kiss, still processing how the situation escalated into the passionate encounter. After attending to each other's desires, both of you were thinking of having a conversation about what this meant for you two. Particularly when did these feelings develop.
“Could you stay a bit longer, Younghoon?” you murmur, your seductive tone making it hard for him to resist.
“Absolutely, Y/n. Plus, we're not done yet,” he smirks, catching you off guard as his hands find their way to your thighs, carrying you to the bedroom.
・:*.⋆❀⋆.*:・
@midnightfantasiez, @snowflakewhispers @daisyvisions i did it 😭💕
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zzoguri · 8 months
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UPDATED AS OF SEPTEMBER 14, 2023, 6:30PM (GMT+8)
requests status ➵ slots are closed!
how to request ➵ send an ask following the format: "tbz member + one song from the list + possible scenario you want (not required)" and you will receive! if you're looking for a certain scenario, please be as descriptive as possible! please keep in mind that the song you pick will have a determined genre linked to it.
ex. "jacob + must be love by laufey + possibly reader just doing their own thing and jacob is just admiring, only for this scene playing out to be his realization of him falling in love"
guidelines/reminders ➵ i have every right to deny a request if i believe i cannot fulfill it or if i'm uncomfortable writing it ➵ please don't expect me to be speedy with requests... there is a chance i may not fulfill it LMFAO so don't come into my asks fully expecting smth ➵ most requests will be <10k and will most likely be focused on a certain scenario or two ➵ i will not write yandere or majorly toxic themes! but i will write fluff, suggestive/smut, and angst depending on the song you choose teehee! if you're worried that i may deny your request, just send it and i'll let you know if something about it is something i'm not comfortable to write about ➵ only writing x readers! ➵ requests won't be done on a "first come; first serve" basis!
a/n ➵ happy to announce that i am officially opening requests! yup, i thought that to beat my silly writer's block, i can start doing some requests for the time being. it's also my way of celebrating 200 followers!! i'll be opening limited slots for the time being. however, if i decide that i want to keep doing more requests, i may accept more later on.
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song list ➵ and july by heize & dean ➵ apple cider by beabadoobee ➵ apple pie by lizzy mcalpine ➵ arms unfolding by dodie ➵ as long as it takes you by keshi ➵ backburner by niki ➵ bad by wave to earth ➵ bawat piyesa by munimuni ➵ calla by wave to earth ➵ cheese & wine by dpr live ➵ cherry wine by grentperez ➵ chocolate by day6 ➵ clementine by grentperez ➵ cologne by beabadoobee ➵ disconnected by 5sos ➵ everything has changed by taylor swift ft. ed sheeran ➵ hall&oates by yerin baek ➵ i like you by day6 ➵ in what world by lizzy mcalpine ➵ intertwined by dodie ➵ laputa by dpr live ft. crush ➵ let you break my heart again by laufey ➵ loner by yerin baek ➵ lowkey by niki ➵ maps by raffaella & hippo campus ➵ ocean floor by wave to earth ➵ old with you by grentperez ➵ on the drive home by niki ➵ one last time, please by dodie ➵ only by day6 ➵ opposite by sabrina carpenter ➵ pancakes for dinner by lizzy mcalpine ➵ pasilyo by sunkissed lola ➵ paubaya by moira dela torre ➵ pour up by dean ft. zico ➵ put my hands on you by dean & anderson .paak ➵ pwede ba by lola amour ➵ right here by keshi ➵ san francisco by 5sos ➵ second best by laufey ➵ simple season by hippo campus ➵ somebody by keshi ➵ soren by beabadoobee ➵ take off all your cool by sabrina carpenter ➵ text me by dpr live ➵ the 1 by taylor swift ➵ tornado warnings by sabrina carpenter ➵ treacherous by taylor swift ➵ tuesday by hippo campus ➵ valentine by laufey ➵ waste the night by 5sos
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juyeonszn · 7 months
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SAME DREAM, SAME MIND, SAME NIGHT
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PAIRING kim younghoon x f!reader
WORD COUNT 3.60k
GENRES smut ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of crack tbh
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, fawn when she can’t get enough of the brothers best friend trope, hyunjae and jacob are side characters that never actually make an appearance, younghoon is wearing a ghostface mask for 2 seconds 😵‍💫, reader is down bad, younghoon is also down pretty bad, size kink — the obvious yk, he’s big everywhere tbh, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, missionary/lowkey mating press towards the end LMFAOOOO i’m sorry i got carried away, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pussy drunk!younghoon (i lied he’s down horrendous), creampie, the couch is a paid actor, last scene is kinda silly kinda cute, lmk if i missed anything!!
SUMMARY hyunjae really shouldn’t have left you home alone.
MORE and day 3 of fawntober has made her entrance 😈 i’m curious,,, how do we feel about these so far? i feel like i’m focusing on this challenge more than i am my school work 😭😭
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri
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Being home alone has never been much of an issue for you. All throughout high school, you stayed home by yourself when your parents worked late and your brother had practice. And even now, well into adulthood, you’d never really been afraid of being alone.
If it were up to you, you’d live all by yourself. But unfortunately, rent was way too expensive to afford on your own. More fortunately, your brother had a spare room in his apartment for you. Pros included low grocery costs, low monthly rent, and free parking. Cons included living with your brother, living with one of his best friends, and having to deal with two grown men who sometimes acted like children.
It was a Friday night and both Hyunjae and Jacob were out, attending a Halloween party one of their friends was throwing. The holiday was only a few days away, so almost everyone you knew was hosting parties this weekend. Along with being content to stay alone in your home, you were even more so to never leave it. Going out and getting black out drunk or worse didn’t sound very appealing to you.
Nights like these were the rare occasion you got to be with yourself and some movies, snuggled with a blanket on your couch. Living with only men did not provide any luxuries except maybe someone to kill a spider every now and then. So you were abusing the fuck out of the opportunity, dressed in nothing but an oversized sweatshirt and some crew socks, a mug of hot cocoa in your hands as you watch the second installment of the Scream franchise. (Might as well get in the holiday spirit.)
There’s a knock at your door, causing you to raise an eyebrow. It was half past midnight and your brother mentioned that he and Jacob would be crashing over at Sangyeon’s after the party. You were also very much single, so you weren’t expecting anyone to come over either. The only other possible explanation was maybe a food delivery, but you hadn’t ordered anything.
You assume it’s someone at the wrong apartment and choose to ignore it, putting your focus back on the movie. Your mug raises to your lips, taking a long sip of the now lukewarm drink just as the movie’s plot begins to progress. Before you can fully revert into your concentration, there’s another knock.
A sigh escapes your mouth, setting down the mug and pausing the movie. Your sock-clad feet trudge over to the front door, expression flat as you undo all of the locks and swing it open. You jump at the sight in front of you, nearly dying of a heart attack on the spot.
A tall figure, dressed in all black and wearing a Ghostface mask stands on the other side, one arm resting on the threshold of your doorframe and their body weight leaning against it. When they realize they’ve almost killed you, they gasp.
“Oh my god, I forgot I was wearing this stupid thing.”
The person hurriedly removes the mask to reveal one of your brother’s other friends, Kim Younghoon. The tall male rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, apologizing for nearly making you faint. You clutch at your chest as your breathing stabilizes and your heart rate returns to normal.
“Jesus, Younghoon. Couldn’t you have said something before I opened the door?” You hold the heel of your palm to your forehead.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he bows slightly, his eyes drifting off to something behind you. “Woah, wait, are you watching Scream 2 right now?”
“Uh, yeah?” At that moment you notice the silly coincidence that his costume happened to be Ghostface. “Do— um— do you wanna come in?”
“Yeah, sure.” He smiles, tucking his mask under his arm and following you into the apartment. He shuts the door behind him, making sure to hit all the locks as well.
As the two of you sit at the couch and you resume the movie, you purse your lips in confusion. You were curious as to why Younghoon was here in the first place, seeing as your brother was not. He had to have known that information himself considering he was dressed like he’d just come from a Halloween party. It only made sense that it was the same one Hyunjae and Jacob attended.
“Wait, so what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt. Shit, you weren’t wearing any pants…
“Oh! Right,” he nods, ruffling his hair a bit. “I woke up really early this morning and it was starting to catch up with me so I decided to leave Sangyeon’s party to head home. Hyunjae asked if I could stop by to check on you since it was on the way.”
A simple call or text from your brother himself couldn’t suffice? You guess the fact that Younghoon really did live close by coupled with Hyunjae’s intoxication might’ve been a factor in asking his friend for the favor. All you can do is hum in response.
You weren’t all that upset by Younghoon’s sudden appearance either, and you were more than happy to invite him into your apartment any time. Out of all of your brother’s friends, excluding Jacob, Younghoon was probably your favorite. Aside from having a little crush on his handsome face, he was the easiest to get along with and you felt comfortable around him. Sometimes you wish he was your other roommate instead.
But then again, the thought of him being so domestic around you was enough to send you into cardiac arrest, much like his accidental jumpscare from earlier. Just imagining waking up to him making coffee and breakfast in the kitchen, wearing your Hello Kitty apron, had your pulse quickening. Oh God, bumping into him exiting the bathroom after he’s showered? Nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his hips and droplets of water decorating his no doubtedly sculpted chest?
Did someone crank up the thermostat?
“Y/N? N/N. N/N… Y/N!”
You blink, snapping yourself back into reality. Younghoon waves his hands back and forth in front of your face, a cute pout on his lips. He really was not making this any easier for you. You clear your throat, hoping your face isn’t as red as it feels.
“Y-Yes?” Why did you have to stutter, you fucking loser? There you go, blowing your cover.
“I was just wondering if you’ve seen the movies before. But you kinda spaced out on me there. You okay?” He asks, face full of concern. It doesn’t do much to quiet the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. If anything, it makes it ten times worse.
“Oh… Um. Yeah, I have,” your voice wavers. “And I-I’m fine, I swear. Don’t even worry about me.”
Your efforts to convince him are futile and instead of de-escalating the situation, you just add further fuel to the fire. He leans in to you, permeating your personal bubble as he examines your expression. If he moved even closer, his lips could land on your own, and the idea of that has you shrinking in on yourself.
“Are you… nervous around me?”
Did he have any sense of self-awareness? Did he think he wasn’t intimidating in this proximity to you? Kim Younghoon’s new talent just dropped; driving you to the brink of insanity!
You swallow thickly, eyes a little wide like a deer caught in headlights. Your line of eyesight falters to his lips, even more kissable now that they’re so close to yours. You shake your head when you realize that you haven’t responded, praying and hoping you were keeping your composure.
“I don’t really believe you, Y/N,” he says, tone no louder than a whisper, but so voluminous in your empty apartment. “So, I’m gonna rephrase my question. Are you nervous to be alone with me?”
When you process his words, you come to the conclusion that, yes, you are nervous to be alone with him. Your brother and Jacob were usually around when he was, so you’d never been in this position before. You’ve never truly been alone with Younghoon. Perhaps that was because you knew you couldn’t keep your feelings to yourself, afraid you might fuck up and say something stupid to him.
A few seconds pass with nothing but the noise of the movie still playing in the background, your lips pressed together. His eyes bore into yours, dark and swirling with something that looks a whole lot like lust. Your silence is a sufficient answer for him, one of his hands coming up to support his weight on the armrest of the couch behind you. The other trails up your thigh, the sheer size of it big enough to nearly cover the expanse of your skin.
Younghoon’s lips part when he slides under your sweatshirt and finds that you’re not wearing anything underneath. His eyes flutter shut with a sigh, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
“Tell me you don’t want this, tell me no before I lose all of my self control and I can’t hold back.” He lets his forehead fall to your shoulder, voice hushed.
The better, rational part of you wants to say no. It wants to tell him that you shouldn’t do this, because what would your brother think? Hyunjae would beat his ass if he found out about the two of you, especially on the living room sofa. Hell, he’d beat your ass for sleeping with one of his friends. But the part of you that was unhinged and has dreamt of this moment for years wants to say otherwise.
That part is what has you spreading your legs, taking Younghoon’s hand and leading it to where you need him most.
“Don’t hold back.” You breathe into his ear, your free hand coming up to the back of his neck and pulling his lips onto yours.
You whimper into his mouth as he kisses you, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your lace covered clit simultaneously. He’s by no means gentle, tongue tangling with your own roughly and desperately, as if he’s been dreaming of this just as much as you. He halts his motions, creeping further under your sweatshirt to palm your bare breasts and grind his hips into yours.
Your back arches off the couch, the feeling of his large hand on your chest goading your arousal. Younghoon presses open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, sucking and nipping your supple skin, licking the abused area to soothe any pain. You can feel him even through the material of his black cargo pants, already hard for you. Without seeing it, you have an inkling of what you’re working with.
Younghoon’s always been tall, standing at six feet with broad shoulders. As long as you’ve known him, his height alone was enough to scare people away, despite the fact that he had the personality of a hyperactive puppy. But now, his body looming over yours and his touch all over your skin, you can’t help but feel turned on by his size alone.
“Can I finger you?” He asks suddenly, slowly pushing up your sweatshirt so he can expose your cute panties. You nod frantically, biting the hem of your top to keep it out his way as he pushes your underwear down your legs with one hand. “Wanna prep you as best as I can, baby.”
He smiles at you again, and in spite of being in such a compromising situation, he looks so stunning. You remember the reason why you’ve had a crush on him this long, because aside from his beauty, he was also doting and caring, willing to go above and beyond for those near and dear to him.
You squirm a bit beneath him when his middle finger glides through your folds with ease, you slick providing enough lubricant for him. He all but groans, inserting the digit into your entrance. Your moans are muffled by your sweatshirt in your mouth, his long finger so deep inside of you it brushes that one spongy spot you could never reach yourself.
Younghoon uses his thumb to circle your clit as his finger thrusts in and out of you, kissing along your jaw. He glances down and moans at the sight of your tits jostling around with each pump of his finger. He lowers his head to attach his mouth to one of your nipples, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.
There’s so much going on, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head when his finger curls and his teeth scrape the swell of your breast. If his slender middle finger wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, then the sound of him being so vocal was, vibrations spreading on the surface of your skin. Younghoon adds the slightest amount of pressure to your clit when he sinks his pearly whites into your collarbone, coaxing your orgasm.
He swallows your whines, waiting until you’ve stopped spasming under him to slow his assault. He pulls his hoodie over his head, helping you remove your sweatshirt afterward. Your chest heaves, watching with heavy eyelids as Younghoon scoots himself further down the couch. He brings himself eye level with your cunt, experimentally blowing air on your core. You shiver, biting the inside of your lip and running a hand through his hair.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he makes eye contact with you, pressing a sweet kiss to your clit. “Can't believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”
Younghoon pushes your knees up to your chest, hands digging into the fat of the backs of your thighs. The position gives him better access to your glistening cunt. He licks a long line from your hole to your pelvic bone, flattening his tongue against you and repeating once more.
“Fuck, Hoon,” you mewl, holding the back of your hand to your forehead. “That feels so good.”
He hums, lips wrapping around your clit and giving it a harsh suck. That particular action rips a loud moan from your vocal cords. He doesn’t get any gentler, sliding both his middle and ring fingers into you as he continues making out with your pussy. Your head feels light and airy, your brain incapable of producing any coherent thoughts aside from how badly you need his cock inside of you. His thick fingers aren’t enough, you need more. You need him to fill you completely.
The pads of his fingers continuously brush along your velvety walls, inching you closer and closer to your tipping point. You aren’t sure you can last much longer, especially with the promise of having him fully following this. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he wound you up and knocked you over the ledge again, like he was already so familiar with what you needed.
He swirls his tongue around your clit, alternating between curling his fingers and straightening them. It’s as if he’s doing a come-hither motion. Your whines are uncontrollable at this point, tugging at his hair with every suckle of your engorged skin. The sting on his scalp has him moaning against your cunt, the resonance shooting through your whole body.
“Shit shit, I’m cumming— I’m—“
Your hips buck up towards his mouth, his skillful tongue and fingers still working your overstimulated pussy until you’re begging him to stop. Good God, you already finished twice and he hadn’t even properly fucked you yet. You’re a panting mess beneath him when he parts with your lower lips, chin shiny with your release.
“You can give me one more, right?” Younghoon licks his lips to taste the remnants of your sweetness, wrapping them around his fingers to do the same thing. You let out a strained moan, nodding and connecting your mouths to kiss him roughly.
He laughs into the kiss, pulling back to tuck your hair behind your ear. His eyes resemble crescent moons, crinkled at the sides. His duality gives you whiplash. How could someone so sexy be so adorable at the same time? It was beyond you.
He goes to unbutton his pants, kicking them along with his underwear off his legs as he leans down to kiss you again. You gasp when you’re finally given the opportunity to see his dick, hard and flushed for you. You reach down to stroke him, reveling in the hiss he makes when your thumb glides over his sensitive tip.
You guide him to your entrance, but he pauses. “Wait, I don’t have anything on me.”
“It’s okay, Hoon,” you place a comforting hand on his cheek. “I trust you. I’m clean, I’m assuming you’re clean, and I’m on birth control. I wanna feel you— all of you.”
His head falls to your shoulder once more with a groan, his cock prodding your hole almost instantaneously. You exhale through your nose heavily, the stretch burning so good that you’re raking your nails down his back. Even the feeling of his broad shoulders and back muscles beneath your fingertips sends you into a frenzy. He’s just so huge. You’d never wanted to be ruined by someone as much as you wanted to be ruined by him.
Younghoon coos when you start to whimper, slowly pushing himself all the way in to his pelvic bone. He massages the back of your thighs, still pushed to your chest, pulling out gently before ramming his entire length back in. He does this a few more times to ensure your cunt has adjusted to his size, but the thought of you wrapped so tightly and warmly around him is enough to make him bust without going through the motions fully.
Your sweet pussy is so inviting, sucking him in like a fucking aspirator. He risks a glance down to where his hips meet yours, moaning so uncharacteristically at the sight of you enveloping his cock, coating it with your previous release. You clench when the sound hits your ears, provoking one of your own.
His thrusts are calculated, dragging them out so they’re deep rather than shallow. Despite not pounding into your brutally, like you were used to with past partners, you think you like this better. You can feel all of him this way. Every vein, every pulse, every fucking graze along your insides— as if he was meant to be there.
“You’re taking me so— fuck— so well, baby,” he breathes, voice hoarse in the crook of your neck. “Don’t know how much longer I can last.”
“G-God, you’re s-so b-big,” you cry, sinking your fingernails into his shoulder blades. “I feel so— oh my god— feel so full.”
You look so pretty underneath him, he doesn’t even care that he might go to hell for fucking you. He’d let Hyunjae murder him any day of the week if it guaranteed his spot above you, cock buried to the goddamn hilt. He places his forearm behind your knees, pressing your legs flat and practically folding you in half so he can speed up his tempo.
Younghoon throttles into you at a near animalistic pace, skin slapping on skin echoing throughout your apartment. You’re fucked stupid, noises that you can’t comprehend leaving your mouth to punctuate every single drive of his dick in your cunt and eyes fluttering shut. His tip kisses at that one spot that scratches your itch each time.
One particular gyration of his hips snaps that cord in your stomach and you’re cumming a third time, jaw going slack as your body spasms with the force of your orgasm. You produce no sound, the wave of your release cresting like a jolt of euphoria to your head, Younghoon following suit. However, his reaction is the opposite, so cacophonous and pornographic that it prolongs the twitching of your velvet-like walls, milking him dry of everything he can offer.
As both of you come down from your peaks, oxygen recirculating in your brains, Younghoon sighs and slips out of you. You wince, still so very sensitive from all three of your orgasms and how aggressively he was hitting it those last few minutes. You watch with choked groans as a combination of your cum flows out of your cunt onto the sofa.
Hyunjae was going to lose his mind.
“Shit, we gotta clean this up,” you panic, finally sobering up and moving into a sitting position. “I’d prefer to live long enough to tell you how much I like you.”
“Woah, wait,” his eyes widen animatedly. “Y-You like me?”
You gape at him, confused how after everything you just did together, he would think you didn't have feelings for him. “I just let you fuck me on the couch I share with my brother and Jacob. Do you think I’d do that if I didn’t like you?”
“I dunno. Maybe you were just really horny?” He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck shyly, like he hadn’t just rearranged your insides six ways to Sunday. You get on your knees, capturing his lips in a soft kiss that portrays all the words you could’ve ever wanted to say and more.
“Does that answer your question?” You ask, pecking them once again. “I like you so much, Younghoon. I have since, like, my freshman year of uni.”
He smiles warmly, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. “That’s funny because I’ve liked you since then, too.”
“That makes me so happy to hear,” you giggle, nuzzling into his palm. “Okay, now get up so I can deep clean this fucking couch.”
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© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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sungbeam · 1 year
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 : a series!
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[7 OF 11 NOW CUFFED!] ; it's cuffing season! — and the boyz are in for quite the adventure as they learn to juggle school, work, friends, and love.
starring: the boyz, f!reader
genre: college au, fluff, humor, comfort, assorted pairings
word count: 216k/?? // at least 20k+ words per part
**note: the main plotline (the 4 szns) can be read completely as stand-alones. all other spin-offs can also technically be read as stand-alones, but some might require context from the main plotline. (all prev yns will appear as __!yn)
+ ADD THIS TO YOUR LIST (taglist form: open)
a/n: i'm very excited for this series tbh and i really hope i retain the strength to finish it 🤧 a great way to help me out tho is to blow this post up by reblogging, esp since tumblr gatekeeps the actual fics when they're published :')
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SEASON ONE: PARTY PEOPLE — jacob b.
yours and jacob's mutual friend kevin is convinced that you're meant to be, even if he only just met you. (trailer, 34k)
SEASON TWO: FLIGHT RISK — eric s.
you and eric met on an airplane, and that's where you thought it would end, but clearly the universe has a different plan in mind. (trailer, 30k)
SEASON THREE: OFF THE RECORD — j. changmin (parts 𝐈, 𝐈𝐈)
everyone thinks changmin is cute and harmless, but you know that's not who he really is. (trailer, 36k)
SEASON FOUR: AIN'T NO ROMEO — l. hyunjae
your best friend hyunjae ain't no romeo, but you're still in love... so let's hope he doesn't find out you wrote a whole play about him! (trailer, 30k)
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— spin-offs & side adventures.
RHAPSODY ANONYMOUS — k. sunwoo
you never thought your humble, little podcast would ever touch somebody's soul like it did one kim sunwoo's. (trailer, 28k)
RESCUE PROTOCOL — kevin m.
another summer break, another annual trip to the lake! except, it seems like when you and kev get there, you'll have to make some tweaks to the original rescue protocol. (trailer, 29k)
AT YOUR CONVENIENCE — k. younghoon
neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block. (trailer, 29k)
HOT COMMODITY — j. haknyeon
no matter how many times he's been to this restaurant, haknyeon swears he's not just here for the cute waitress. (trailer, __)
PINKY SWEAR — c. chanhee
you and chanhee are far from the years of pinky swears, but here you are, still lacing fingers after all this time. (trailer, __)
THE REVEAL — l. sangyeon
does sangyeon really have a secret girlfriend? well... let's find out. (trailer, __)
CLASS(Y) ACTION — l. juyeon
nothing is more cutthroat than the legal sphere, and sometimes we have to find allies in the strangest places—even if he spills coffee on you. (trailer, __)
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EXTRA/"DELETED" SCENES
section under construction.
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EXTRA, EXTRA CONTENT
— QUIZZES!
lmk what u got for a free smooch and a cookie 🤸‍♀️🥰
which love in unity boy will you be cuffing this year? (uquiz)
which love in unity boy will you be cuffing this school year? (**NEW & IMPROVED VER)
love in unity trivia !! for the main plot only (uquiz)
— ALT. READING ORDERS
if u want to read this series in timeline order, this is how it should be done: jacob/younghoon, eric/haknyeon, changmin/sunwoo, hyunjae/chanhee, sangyeon, kevin, juyeon
if u wanna read sungbeam's favorites: [under construction]
— SERIES TAGS: general series. any wip can be searched via "wip: _____" (usually just the initials, except for party people); or "the (member) fic™"
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boyzcatchingfire · 3 months
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Snow ~ *Kim Younghoon*
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Summary: Younghoon and you are spending the winter holidays in the mountains. You're so excited to see all the snow! Younghoon is less than enthused...
Pairing: Kim Younghoon X G/N!Reader
Genre: Fluffy Oneshot
Word Count: 1164
Warning: Belated Christmas Oneshot
Masterlist
Taglist: @plutonieve
A/N: Inspired by the song Snow from White Christmas
You couldn't help your growing excitement as you watched the world pass by you on the train. It was Younghoons's idea to take this trip for the holidays. You were sure it was because you told him you really wanted to have a white Christmas, and if that was the case, it meant he listened to you and it made your heart fill with warmth and love for him.
"You look like a kid in a candy shop." He teased, poking your cheek as he did so.
"Well, I can't help being excited!" You replied, bouncing in your seat. "We're taking a train to our own private winter chalet for the holidays! How can you not be excited?"
"Who said I wasn't excited?"
"Well, are you?"
He chuckled as he shook his head. "Of course I'm excited. A whole week, just the two of us, in our own little snow globe for the holidays. It's going to be perfect."
"I know it will be." You leaned against him and sighed as you continued to watch the scenery pass by the window. "I can't believe you pulled this off though. I thought it would be impossible for you to get away from the city."
He gave a small sigh as he pulled you closer. "It was difficult, but I made some compromises and pulled a few strings. I promise you, there will be no talk of work while we're on our vacation, okay? Just you and me and all the holiday cheer you could ask for."
You hummed in response. "It sounds like an absolute dream, my dear."
"Good, I'm happy to hear it, my darling."
The two of you sat together in blissful silence for a few moments longer before Younghoon spoke up again. "So, can I ask why you were so desperate to have a white Christmas? When you were talking to me about what you envisioned as a perfect Christmas, it sounded like you would die if there was no snow. I didn't think it was all that serious..."
You turned to look at him in shock. "Younghoon, dear, you can't be serious! It's one of the most important parts of the season! Snow is beautiful and fun and it makes the holiday! Without snow, there is no Christmas!"
He gave you a small smirk. "Really? Do tell."
"Have you ever watched any Christmas movie?"
He chuckled and shook his head. "Sure, snow is nice, but it's not the end all be all of the season for me."
You scoffed and shook your head. "You just don't get it."
"Then please enlighten me, my darling." He mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your temple.
"When you think of winter, specifically the weather, what's the first thing that comes to mind?"
He paused to think. "Hmm, I suppose it's cold, overcast, and I guess snowy."
"There, see? You think of snow as well! Snow is the epitome of winter. We can't have Christmas without snow!"
"I suppose you're right." He kissed your cheek. "Well, I'm glad I can make this Christmas perfect for you with our own winter chalet."
"Yes, thank you, my dear." 
You looked out the window again as the gray scenery started to turn white with pockets of snow. A dreamy sigh escaped you before you could stop it.
"It won't be long before we're there with snow." You whispered. "I want to wash my hands, my face, and my hair in the snow."
Younghoon scrunched up his nose at the thought. "Sounds like a terrible way to shower if you ask me."
You shove him playfully. "You know what I mean!"
"Obviously I don't because it sounds like you want to bathe in snow!" He laughs at you.
Rolling your eyes, you sigh. "You're ridiculous, you know that? Besides, what do you plan to do when we get to the little chalet and all that snow? I mean besides go ice skating of course."
He paused to think for a moment. "Hmm. I long to clear a path and lift a spade of snow. I know what I said earlier, about snow not being that important to me, but I really haven't been able to be around snow for a long time. I kind of miss the feeling of it between my fingers and on my skin. That and I want to make a great big snowman."
You nod at the thought, eyes lighting up. "Oh, we most definitely have to make a snowman. We should make one as big as the chalet!"
"Now that's thinking big, my darling!"
"Of course! It's not often we get to take vacations like this!" You sigh and lean back against him so you can look out the window, at the passing scenery. "Where it's snowing all winter through, that's where I want to be."
"Snowball throwing, that's what I'll do." He teased you, before kissing the top of your head.
"Of course you will be." You giggle. "How I'm longing to ski through the snow. Or make a snow fortress, built for two. It all sounds absolutely perfect."
Younghoon heaved a dreamy sigh. "All of these ideas for the snow just tells me I picked the perfect vacation for Christmas holiday. It sounds like we're going to be very busy making sure we get it all done."
"Absolutely. But it'll be so much fun!" You look up at him before kissing his jaw. "Besides, you'll be there with me, so I know it's going to be the best vacation ever!"
He smiles and kisses you on the lips. It starts as a simple peck, but you're quick to deepen it into something more intimate. It's warm and romantic and you feel yourself melting like chocolate into his embrace. It was at that moment you felt yourself fall in love with Younghoon all over again. He truly was romantic and caring and you couldn't imagine a better person to spend the holiday with.
When you finally pull away, a sense of peace and tranquility fills you. You're still a couple hours away from the chalet you're meant to be vacationing in for the next couple of days, but you feel as if your holiday has already started just by being in Younghoon's arms like this.
"You look sleepy." He whispers in your ear.
"Do I? I hadn't noticed." You mumble before yawning and letting your eyes slip close.
"I'd love to stay up with you but I recommend a little shuteye." He says quietly to you. "Go to sleep and dream of snow and all the fun things we'll be doing when we get there."
"And you'll wake me up when we're there?"
"Of course." He assures you. "I need you to witness how great of a boyfriend I am in real time."
If your eyes were still open, they would have rolled. But instead you were tucked into a wintery dreamland, full of snow and love for your beloved Younghoon.
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tbzloonar · 2 years
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FIVE MEMORIES OF REALIZATION.
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❛ i had one purpose, and the purpose was to realize that that incident was the greatest mistake i have ever made in my entire life. ❜
❥ summary: an angel has granted younghoon one more chance to save his friend, and to fix the worst mistake he has ever done in his entire life—which was completely accidental. ❥ pairing: kim younghoon x gn!reader (ft. kim hyunjin of loona!) ❥ warnings: brief mention of death & vague car accident & a description of drowning, lots of swearing in the first part my bad. not medically accurate, i am not a doctor! ❥ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers, soulmate au, life and death? ❥ word count: 3.3k (3,392 words) ❥ a/n: & here it is! finally back from my hiatus. i hope everyone enjoys this piece as much as i enjoyed writing it, i know maya has been waiting for this to drop as soon as i posted the teaser for it (hi maya hope u like this <33) also, apologies for the last part if it was kinda inaccurate (medically wise lol) already put it in the warning but this is what i was able to write with minimal research.
permanent taglist: @kimsohn @seung-scrittore @jangwonie (send an ask to be added or removed!
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YOUNGHOON WAS FUCKED FOR SURE.
He couldn't remember anything for shit, and oh the headache he was having right now was the worst. He couldn't even see anything, even though he had his eyes open, and could feel the movement of them opening and closing as he panicked, all he saw was a color darker than the black he knew. He couldn't feel his body on a surface, it's like he was floating.
He figured this was a dream of some sort, but was starting to panic even more as he faded into sleep. His body felt weak. And then, he finally drifted off.
Only a few seconds later, he jolted awake suddenly, trying to regain his breath while desperately practicing any type of breathing exercise that came to his mind. He felt like he was drowning for a full second, hopelessly trying to reach the shore above. But there was no shore in Younghoon’s case, in fact, he had no clue where the hell he was.
He was in a white room, like—completely white. Everything there was white, the bed he was laying on, the chairs around, the tables and—wait, who is that?
There walked in a woman, everything she wore was also white, she had beautiful long and curly brown hair, thick eyebrows with long eyelashes to compliment her look. Younghoon thought she looked beautiful, if he had to say so himself.
She then laughed, “why thank you.”
Younghoon’s eyes widened in shock, did he really say that out loud? He just embarrassed himself before proper introduction.
“No, you didn’t.” The woman responded. She walked into a part of the room that looked like the kitchen, not different to any of the other rooms as it was also white. She poured some water into her cup and used a spoon to mix the solution. “Tea?”
“Um,” Younghoon by now had already guessed that she could read his mind, so he tried his best to keep his thoughts silent. “No thanks.”
“Hm, shame.” She held her white up and walked towards Younghoon, sitting comfortably on the sofa in front of him. 
“Are you an Angel?” Younghoon asked bluntly, not knowing where his sudden confidence came from. He didn’t care though, he did almost die a few moments ago. At this point, he was gonna take any type of risk without rethinking the consequences that would take place.
“Well,” she responded while laughing, “you could say that I am sort of an angel I suppose.”
“So,” Younghoon awkwardly shifted on his bed, looking around the white room for a second inspection then finally settling his eyes on the woman in front of him once more. “I’m in heaven?”
“No, you’re not.” Before Younghoon could panic, she continued. “At least not yet.”
Obviously, that did not help with calming down Younghoon. “What the hell do you mean by not yet?”
“It is as simple as you hear it Mr. Kim,” she addresses him formally which makes the situation even more awkward, at least that’s what Younghoon thinks. But that doesn’t matter now, what matters is that he doesn't know where he is, hell he might even die in a few seconds, depending on what the lady in front of him decides to do. 
“Oh, but it’s not my decision to let you die or not,” she smiles with what seems to be an attempt at a comforting smile, yet it still didn’t help Younghoon feel any better. “Believe it or not, it is yours.”
“This has to be a dream of some sort,” Younghoon curls his body up and puts his head into his hands, “you have to be fucking with me.”
“Unfortunately I am not, I can assure you that this is very much real.” She sighs before placing her cup of tea on the small table in front of her, completely ignoring the fact that he had just swore in the presence of an angel, her. “The car accident that you’ve been in a few hours ago was caused by you, and since it was ruled as an accident, you have a chance to fix your mistake. Right here, right now.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not following,” Younghoon shook his head, “I’m not even supposed to be here, I’m supposed to either die or come back alive, I don’t know! You’re the angel here.”
“Indeed I am,” she stood up and walked around the room, looking around, leaving Younghoon confused from behind her. She paused in her footsteps as she looked at a small painting of a water fountain. After some thought, she looked back at Younghoon with a sigh. “You’ve been brought back to me, so I could help you fix your mistake, and find your soulmate.”
“My soulmate is already dead.” Younghoon angrily spoke up at the mention of a soulmate, “I’ve given up already, can we let that go?”
“I’m afraid we cannot,” she smiled warmly and walked towards him, pointing her finger to his face. “I advise you to close your eyes Mr. Kim.”
Younghoon didn’t have time to react as a bright light engulfed and took over his vision completely.
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FIRST MEMORY.
Younghoon slowly uncovered his eyes when he realized he couldn’t hear anything. He blinked a couple of times as he tried to regain his already gained vision. Rubbing his eyes with a sigh he quietly stood up and scanned the place around him, he looked like he was in a backroom of some sort–a storage room. There were boxes all around him, before he could even reach the boxes and uncover whatever laid under, a voice interrupted his actions.
That voice was yours.
His head whipped around for his eyes to slowly rest on your figure. You were holding two large boxes that looked quite heavy. He knew you tried to hide it, but it was pretty obvious from the facial expression on your face that you were exhausted. You placed the box on the ground and gently laid your head on a stack of boxes that reached your height. You quickly regained your composure a few seconds later as a voice called your name.
There came out of the dark an older woman, who looked to be in her 70s, walking towards you with a limp in her walk and a small smile on her face. She held your face in her hands and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“Thank you so much for helping me out child,” she took your hand and faced your palm towards the direction of the ceiling, placing a couple of coins in your hand before closing it into a fist. 
“Mrs. Lee, I’m fine really, I just wanted to help—” you attempted to persuade her, but she shook her head with a smile.
“You were the only one who helped,” she replied with the smile still on her face, although it was slowly turning into a bittersweet one. “You’re not related to me in blood, unlike my children, yet you still wanted to help.”
Her small whisper broke Younghoon’s heart, he couldn’t understand how they wouldn’t help her with such simple tasks, leaving their mother all alone in her lonely place.
She removed her hand from yours and sighed, “you could wait with me until I close up, if you wish to stay for some tea with me. Although, you are of course free to leave as always.”
You nodded tiredly as a smile formed on your face, matching the one on Mrs. Lee’s face, “I’d love to have some tea with you.”
“That’s great!” She exclaimed, very excited to talk with you later. “I will be working on the cashier, you rest here for a bit.”
With a small nod you replied, too tired to speak, watching her stand out of the storage room and walk off. As soon as you were sure that she was out of your eye sight, you collapsed. Younghoon attempted to catch you but ended up falling with you as he realized that his hand went right through you. His eyes studied your lips as they parted, trying to make the breathing process a bit easier for yourself. 
He looked back into your eyes that were staring at whatever was behind him, and slowly but shakingly tried to place your hand beside your cheek, caressing it softly and ignoring the times his hand went through you. 
Younghoon sighed as the place started to slowly fade, as well as everything in front of him.
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SECOND MEMORY.
Younghoon’s eyes land on the students that walk around him, not paying attention to him. Of course, he isn’t surprised by that fact. He already has accepted that he is somehow invincible, stuck in his memories filled by you. Why you?
He questions where you are in the groups of students when a voice from behind him catches his attention. 
“I don’t think I will ever understand any homework that she assigns, I swear!”
You laugh at their comment and walk beside them, following their pace. “It’s not that bad really, maybe you just hate the professor.”
“Or maybe you’re just too good at this subject!” They exclaim at your reply of defense, “you’re like the top student in her class.”
“I guess I just understand everything that she says easily,” you shrugged your shoulders and paused your walking to face your friend, once you realized you reached their class. “Or maybe it’s because I grew up with my family’s obsession with this whole major, I guess.”
Your friend rolled their eyes at your explanation that they had already heard, from all the times that you have told them and your other friends of small bits of your childhood in nostalgic conversations. Before they could speak, you cut them off with a quick offer. “If you want, I could help you like always.”
“Oh my god yes!” Your friend accepts with a smile as they squish you with a tight yet friendly hug. “Thank you so much!”
“It’s no problem really,” you break the contact and look back at them with the same smile, “see you later?”
“I’ll see you after my class, thank you again!”
Younghoon watches the friend walks to their class with a tinge of jealousy in his eyes, he then looks back at you and raises his eyebrows when he sees you reading from your phone. He walks over to your side and reads the email that the teacher has sent, explaining the assignment. 
Now that you have— not one, but two assignments to work on for your class, you are definitely going to be busier than usual today. Younghoon wishes that he could help you, but knows he is incapable of doing anything currently.
He sighs sadly.
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THIRD MEMORY.
Younghoon finds himself in a place full of crowded people yet again, though he’s not in his school’s campus, but a busy street. He is specifically in front of a random charity store. 
He feels himself slowly becoming disappointed when he notices everyone ignoring the store and going their way, realizing that the store had been empty for a while.
Just as he had been wishing, you finally walked by him. Your steps suddenly pause, as well as Younghoon who was planning to follow you and walk by your side. He watches you walk towards the shop with a worried look in your eyes, he could tell you were contemplating whether or not to get inside and donate.
With only a small amount of money in your wallet, you head into the store with an optimistic smile. Greeting the person behind the counter kindly and handing the money they had.
Younghoon watched you with a bitter smile on his face, finding it quite bittersweet. With each memory he learns more and more about your kind heart.
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FOURTH MEMORY.
“Huh?” Younghoon whispers to himself as he scans the place around him, he finds the place familiar, as if he had been in it before. The brick walls of the alleyway cover him. 
“Aww, hello there,” you coo at the kittens and the mom that were excited at the smell of food, the cat food that you bought from the pet shop down the street. “Oh, aren’t you all so cute?”
He realizes from the familiar clothes that you wore, that this memory might have been made on the same day as the charity place memory.
Younghoon turned his attention from the walls onto you, who’s crouched down and petting the cats as they eat the food that you put down for them. He walks over and crouches down as well, the smile on his face blooms as he looks at your face. He wonders if he’s ever paid attention to these special facial features on your face before.  
His attention goes back to the cats in front of him. He attempts to pet them but his hands go through them obviously, yet he still pretends as if he’s petting them normally. The cat meows at him and he pauses in response, feeling surprised at the cat feeling his presence, if not even being touched by him.
He looks back at you and feels his cheek go warm as a pretty pink settles over his face. Younghoon definitely knows what his favorite memory is now.
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FIFTH MEMORY.
“The flower shop, aye?” Hyunjin asks you. 
“Well, yeah I guess,” you giggle in reply, “Mrs. Lee needed some help and I offered to help around the store here and there. I also go there sometimes to just talk with her, she’s become a great friend.”
“That’s great to hear,” Younghoon snaps his head in horror as he looks at himself, sitting in his respective seat. Memory Younghoon flashes a smile while you shyly look away and back at Hyunjin, continuing the conversation.
He remembers this memory clearly, as he had been in that position before, sitting in a coffee shop with his friends, chatting about anything and everything. You were there too, which makes sense why he was viewing this memory.
Younghoon, though, was now even more confused than he was before, the lady in the white room never explained that this could be possible. But, he guesses that anything could be possible when some sort of angel is involved.
The conversation continues and eventually comes to an end, everybody packs up their stuff and leaves— including Memory Younghoon. Out of everybody, only you and Hyunjin stay.
“When are you going to tell him?”
You choke on your drink, and Younghoon raises his eyebrows in confusion, while looking back and forth at the two of you. “Tell who?” You ask and act clueless, as if you don’t know what she’s talking about.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about Y/N,” she leaned in closer and crossed her arms. She whispers angrily, "when are you going to stop ignoring those dreams? I’ve been telling you that the only possible way to end the dreams might be just to tell him about them.”
“I don’t know,” you put your cup down and bite your lip anxiously, “I can’t just walk up to him randomly and be like ‘oh hey, I’m your soulmate, by the way,’ especially after—”
“Exactly!” Hyunjin cuts you off and leans back with a scoff, “that's exactly why he deserves to know. After Younghoon has told us that there's no chance that he has a soulmate, you could change that completely. His soulmate— is you.”
Younghoon stares at your face as you continue on talking, but your voice has been blocked out from his mind. The only thing he could focus on was you, and nothing else around him. He was in shock, he couldn’t form a sound and felt like everything surrounding him was going in slow motion. 
He snapped and was brought back to reality as soon as he noticed everything around him fade, his panic began to settle in as he ran towards you and tried catching your attention. He yelled and called out your name multiple times, but to no avail, no response was said from you.
Before the bright light engulfed his vision, he screamed at the top of his lungs and declared that his soulmate was you, Y/N L/N, all along. He wished in the couple of seconds that he had left that he would be given more time with you, not in memories, but in real time. 
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Younghoon’s eyes open and he stares back at the white ceiling that greeted him, panic engulfs him as he begins to think that he failed, and was sent back to the angel and the white room that he awoke in before. 
He sits up with sudden energy, and then the pain finally takes in. He shouts in pain and holds his head in both hands, breathing quick as he tries to regain his vision and focus on the furniture that is placed in front of his bed. His screams and shouts catch the attention of nurses outside the room, and as the nurses surround him with quick moves, he is brought back to unconsciousness yet again.
He wakes up a few hours later, and the headache greets him as soon as he opens his eyes, he groans and sits up— slower than last time. Younghoon looks around the room and is surprised to see a nurse there too, organizing some things in the corner. 
“Excuse me?” Younghoon speaks up.
“Yes?” The nurse replies and turns around to face him, “do you need anything?”
“Oh no,” Younghoon shakes his head then clears his throat, “just, how long have I been here?”
“About two weeks,” the nurse replies with a warm and professional smile on his face.
“The two people that were with me that day, are they okay?” Younghoon asks with worry in his voice, hoping nothing that he didn’t want to happen comes out of the nurse’s mouth. 
“Yes, they are,” he responds with the same positive energy. “Fortunately, the accident injured one and almost killed the other, but they are alive, thankfully.”
“Oh,” Younghoon couldn’t explain how relieved he felt at that moment, “thank you so much.”
“It’s no problem.”
Later that day, after laying in his bed and doing nothing but eating, he is notified that he has a visitor. He looks at the door expecting some of his family members to walk in, but is surprised to see Hyunjin walk in with a bouquet of flowers.
“Hi Younghoon,” Hyunjin places the bouquet beside him on the table and sits on the chair beside the bed. “Very good to see you alive and well.”
“Hyunjin,” he stares at her with his mouth open, unsure if he wants to tell her or not. Hyunjin tilts her head and waits for him to talk, and Younghoon talks. “I know that Y/N is my soulmate.”
Her jaw drops and the two of them sit in silence, with Hyunjin confused as ever at what she had just heard.
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A week later, Younghoon had regained most control over his body, and was granted permission to visit his friends, and he knew exactly who he would visit first. He stared at the door of your room with contemplated thoughts, then finally pushed the door open and walked in. 
He closed the door behind him and looked at your surprised face, surprised that he would visit you at such a time. Before you could ask him how he was, he cuts you off with a small greeting.
“Hi soulmate,” with simple words that came from his mouth, all hell broke loose in your mind. 
Your jaw dropped at his words, similar to Hyunjin’s reaction from before, making him chuckle quietly. He watched as you looked at him with shock, stunned and dazed to the point where you couldn’t move, unable to think. You couldn’t process or think of a way of how he found out the truth. 
His smile stretched wider, Younghoon thinks to himself and decides that he had lied before, this is definitely his new favorite memory. However, he wonders. He wonders if this favorite memory would ever change, as he knows for a fact that both of your lives have now merged, creating a new future full of memories that include the both of you— together, as you two should be.
Memories that will definitely be more than five this time.
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halaboyz · 2 years
Text
23 | anti-romantic.
word count: 597, images after text.
warnings: profanities.
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"Stop shaking your leg, you're making the whole car bounce," Juyeon chuckles as he gives you a glance, while you sharply inhaled and stopped bouncing your leg.
"Sorry, I'm just... nervous." You sigh, facing Juyeon as you shift on your seat.
"Why are you nervous? You're seeing four men you've been seeing around campus," Juyeon giggles, and just like a habit, glances at you to look at your face. "Well, except me. You're seeing me around our block."
"Juyeon, I loathe you so much– you're not helping." Hitting his arm lightly, you slump back to your seat properly.
"Come on, is it because you've finally come to terms with your feelings for the first time in a while?" Juyeon's voice was now soft than teasing, making you want to throw yourself out the window.
"No. Actually, this is the first time, Juyeon." Your feet unconsciously bounce once their building comes into sight, "And despite being very scared..." Juyeon stops by the parking lot, "...I'm really happy it's Younghoon."
Juyeon puts the car on break and sighs in relief, finally getting the minute to look at you with a proud face and a small smile.
You were also just staring at him with a smile, feeling thankful to have met someone who, in a small while, has clicked with you and hasn't judged you for who you were in the past. In fact, sympathized with you.
"Go get him," Juyeon pats your arm in encouragement, needing every energy in his body to look away from your mesmerizing face. "I'm proud of you,"
"Thank you, Juyeon." You smile at him, opening the door as you wait for him to tail you to their flat. "Though I don't really know why you should be proud of me– wait, I'm feeling proud of myself too," You crane your neck, feeling relieved for a few minutes as you walk to Younghoon's flat.
Not until you were in front of the door, though. Stopping in your tracks as you stare the door down, you feel Juyeon's big hands patting the small of your back and then urging you on as he opens the door for you.
"You're going to be fine..." Not when you feel small under Chanhee's glare. "Look, y/n." You didn't even realize you were digging your heels to the floor when Juyeon turns you around by the arm. "You are going to be fine."
And he smiles that smile again.
It was sincere. Genuine. It... held a lot of love for you.
"And I'm... going to be here," He whispers, and it was as if it did magic and made your tensed nerves calm. You heaved another courageous sigh, smiling at him and nodding.
"I can do this." You have finally made your way in front of Younghoon's room, shooting Chanhee and Changmin a shy smile, ignoring Chanhee's glares.
The thing was, Changmin wasn't looking at you. He was looking at his other friend, too skilled in hiding his true feelings behind that smile.
Juyeon was too busy taking care of you and your feelings that he tends to bury his feelings down the well.
Juyeon was too busy loving you that he didn't care whether it was another you loved. He didn't care. In fact, he has been doing it for two years already.
So he just stares, giving Chanhee a nod and Changmin a smile before he leaves, the void beside him a lot more obvious than any other day he wasn't with you.
Because this time, he knows that this was the end of his waiting.
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anti-romantic ༺ ch.22 | ch. 23 | ch. 24
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PAIRING: the boyz’ kim younghoon x fem! reader | featuring q, new, eric, juyeon and dreamcatcher’s dami and siyeon
GENRE: social media au, fluff, angst, attempt at humor and flirting
NOTES: philippines isn't really doing great (aka still mourning for its future) but guess what i'd rather write than drown myself in 88m news ew ,,
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SUMMARY: flirting was one of the facades you put up to shield yourself with what they called love. you loved playing with people’s feelings, especially those who shook you off their shoulders. apparently, that’s what younghoon did.
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taglist: @nyujjan @jichanqz @propollis @ilovechanhee @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @heyimkay @diestheticu @rikisluv @kpopwh0r3
permanent taglist: @deputyjuyeon @sunlightwoo @90s-belladonna @grassbutneo @cosmiclele @flrtwoo @jaerisdiction @zvae @karsohn @moonieric @softforqiankun @changmin-wrlds @cloudykyu @kurosism @mavericsohn @enhacolor @yunkiwii @allorysayshi @defjcm @nyangjjunie @joshuaseyes @nycol-ie @fluffyju @icedcoffeesunwoo @sunwoahkim @woobly @deobibu @onlyticket-home @sohnyjbyeol
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