#younghoon imagines

[sungbeam]

nonidol!kim younghoon x f!reader

neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block.

▷ genre, warnings. friends 2 lovers, mutual pining, college au, swearing, fluff, humor, comfort, reader has crowd anxiety, reader has a lot of siblings lol, mentions of math/physics/chemistry/etc sorry it was necessary for the character, kissing, puns and pick-up lines, mentions of academic stress, lots of carbs haha, drinking, guys younghoon was my first bias and im remembering why

▷ total wc. 29.3k (TUMBLR MADE ME CUT OUT SO MUCH I FKN HATE THIS HELLSITE)

this is the seventh installment of the love in unity series! this should be fine as a standalone, but there are multiple references to party people & i highly encourage u to read it!; all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. (ayc occurs DURING party people)

a/n: in an alternate world, i would still be obsessed w kim younghoon, isn't that crazy. anyways, enjoy + reblog!

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OF ALL THE COSMIC COINCIDENCES

KIM Jungwoo's message materialized on your lock screen in a bombardment of photons: Hey, you sure you don't wanna come with us tonight? Feel free to still join :')

You slung the strap of your bag over your head and shoulders before shooting him a reply. No thanks Woo :') Appreciate it though! Have fun tonight <3.

Some of the people in the social circle you orbited were heading to the bay tonight for a bonfire rager to celebrate (read: mourning) the beginning of the new university term. Though you hadn’t seen many of the people attending tonight in a couple months, you were never much for big crowds. Plus, the start of the school year brought a whole dumpster fire of things to worry about, so taking a quiet evening with yourself would be well worth it to keep your head on straight.

With the message sent, you hauled your apartment door open and headed out into the late evening. There was a convenient store at the end of the street a couple blocks over that you had been frequenting since freshman year, and you could taste the sweet brioche buns as the store’s fluorescent lights entered your view. It was a small corner store that reminded you much of a traditional 7/11, except there was a corner inside the store where patrons could eat and chill, and the food, arguably, tasted better than alright.

(The seating area inside this place had definitely seen many of your midterm and finals grind nights. And tears. There were lots of tear stains on those tables.)

Your roommate and good friend Miyawaki Sakura often accompanied you here whenever you came to do some studying, shopping, or recreational snacking. Tonight, she was holed up in her room video chatting with some of her cousins in Japan, but most other nights she would be online playing some kind of first person shooter game.

The walk to the nearby convenience store was a short, yet familiar one. You played a song at a faded volume in your earbuds, your hands tucked into the safety of your pockets. It was a warm night out, as late summer clung onto the coattails of early autumn, leaving a strange mixture of green, red, and yellow in the trees. The streets weren’t barren—plenty of people were out and about on a Saturday night—and still, you tilted your head up to the sky to appreciate the beauty of the obsidian sky.

When you reached the end of the block, you entered into the comfortable embrace of the convenience store. It was quiet, as expected, with only the muffled sound of jazz acoustics from the overhead speakers as white noise. The latter combined with the noise from your own device made it all the easier for you to be unaware of the other people here with you.

Your mouth was already watering from the mental image of brioche, and you made a sharp swerve into the familiar bread aisle when you realized—oh, you weren’t alone.

Standing exactly where you knew the brioche buns were stationed was a tall, lanky man with a pair of earbuds hanging from his own ears, one hand examining one of the bread packages while the other was tucked away in his pocket. His dark colored bangs were shaggy and hung in his eyes, but you could’ve recognized that side profile from a mile away. You’d spent nearly half a quarter staring at it, after all—the other half was looking at his front profile and forehead, but those were just as identifiable.

For a moment you stood at the mouth of the aisle weighing your options. Did you say hello, or did you walk away and pretend you didn’t see him?

He decided for you.

Kim Younghoon glanced up from the bread after feeling your eyes on him for a considerable beat of time. He blinked once before you saw the sharp surprise in his expression melt away into soft fondness. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckled, tugging his earbuds out with a charming smile. “Long time no see, Yn.”

You mirrored his actions and slipped the wires into your pocket. “Long time no see,” you agreed, returning his pleasant expression.

You met Younghoon just last year when he stumbled into the math tutoring center with his head held high and a notebook full of question marks. While your friends on shift at that time (Chanhee coaching someone through their linear algebra worksheet; Jungwoo yanking his hair follicles out with a group of freshmen over trigonometry) were busy, it was you who ultimately became Younghoon’s go-to calculus tutor. For the quarter that he took calculus, you helped the drama major through it.

Of course, finding a drama major in a calculus class was a rare occasion, but you both blamed the university’s awful general education requirement. Either way, you’d both found a friend and good company in one another. It didn’t help that he was terribly charismatic, and often filled the spaces in between long text messages about how to calculate the cross-section area of a vase with “good morning”s, “good luck on your midterm!”s, and corny STEM-themed one-liners.

Younghoon was the kind of guy people took home to meet their parents. Not… not that you ever thought about him like that. It was just what you overheard from this group of girls in the tutoring center once—

“I guess we both had the same idea tonight then,” he chuckled as you came to stand beside him to scour the shelf for your victim tonight.

You hummed. “I guess so,” you said. “I usually don’t see you in this area of the district though.” Because you definitely would have seen him. You lived around here, after all.

“Oh,” he grabbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “it’s a funny story actually. I dropped my friends off at a party and I went to the store near them and they had no good selection of bread.” He made a helpless gesture. “So I couldn’t just accept defeat, and now I’ve ended up here.”

You plucked a package of soft brioche from the shelf, then passed him an amused look. There was something unfair about how the harsh LED lights fell so lightly over his facial features. “I guess some form of cosmic coincidence brought us bread-lovers here.”

Younghoon knocked his bread package against yours like he was cheering a glass of champagne. “And might I say what excellent taste you have.”

That drew a laugh from you. “Ditto.”

He pursed his lips then, considering you. “So what social event are you dodging tonight, Miss Mastermind?” Younghoon’s eyebrows arched upwards at you, and you suddenly took on the sheepishness he had before. Though, you definitely noted that familiar nickname that followed his question. You wondered if that was still the name your contact was saved under in his phone. (If he even still had your contact information saved.)

You raised the palm of your hand up to hide half of your face from comical shame. “Now why would you just assume that I’m here because I’m avoiding a social call?”

“Yah,” he chided jokingly, “because I know you.” His eyes turned up to the ceiling for a moment before he added, “And you’re friends with Kim Jungwoo.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

He laughed. “Gotcha.”

“And you say I'm the mastermind?” You quipped back at him, all light-hearted. When he first dubbed you with the nickname, you hadn't known what to do about it. He claimed it was because you somehow made learning calculus fun for him—some “sorcery,” as he accused back then.

“You are!” He exclaimed with excited, wide eyes. “You've hexed me with a love for math puns and acute angles,” he groaned melodramatically, clutching his chest like his heart was about to burst for added effect.

You clicked your tongue, unable to hide your amusement. “Acute angles is a new one.”

“'Cause they remind me of a-cute-ies like you,” he said with his hand shaped into a finger gun, tongue between his teeth.

Your hand went over your face again. “I forgot that you did that.”

“You missed it!”

The smile on your face couldn't even be fully covered with your hand. Maybe you did miss it—or maybe it was just him. When the quarter had wrapped up last year and Younghoon was no longer taking calculus, neither of you had any “excuse” to be around each other anymore. Though you still had his number, you always chickened out of texting him to see how he was doing or if he wanted to hang out.

In your mind, Younghoon was always too cool for you. You didn't feel like you fit into his world.

Younghoon took your hand and drew it away from your face, a slow smile filling his lips. “There she is. You missed me.”

“If you stop asking, I will pay for your bread.”

“As if I'm going to let you do that,” he shook his head. “I'll take that as a yes.”

You both began making your way over to the counter to purchase your individual pastries. You always knew Younghoon liked bread, and you shouldn't be so surprised that he drove halfway down the district just to find a specific brioche bun. It was funny and strange how the universe worked. At times you wondered if the probability of fate could be calculated—

“So it's just you tonight?” You asked him as the two of you lingered just outside the convenience store with your freshly purchased breads in hand. You had both immediately torn into your brioche as soon as you cleared the threshold, and the fluffy pastry filled your mouth and stomach with utter joy. It was buttery and sweet and soft… perfection.

Younghoon shoved the piece in his mouth into his cheek. “For the most part, yeah,” he replied, his shoulder lifting in a half shrug. “You?”

“Yeah, Kkura's at home, but she's on call with someone. Jungwoo did invite me out to that big bonfire at the bay tonight, but…” You shook your head.

His head tilted slightly. “Oh yeah I heard about that.” For a second, he didn't say anything, and then he murmured, “Crowd anxiety.”

You hummed, eyes shooting over to his. “Hm?”

“Crowd anxiety, right?” He asked with more confidence. “I—you can correct me if I'm wrong—but I just remember you mentioning something about crowd anxiety last year.”

Your chewing slowed for a moment, and a small smile curled onto your lips. “No, you got it right.” He remembered. Of course, he remembered. A warm feeling made itself comfortable in your chest.

Younghoon seemed to brighten. “Good, I'm glad I remembered correctly,” he said while leaning his shoulder against the wall of the convenience store. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you ever happen to watch that performance of 12 Angry Jurors I recommended?”

Uh oh. You could physically feel your neurons spark at the familiar title. It was the equivalent to a bell—no, alarm—rattling around inside your noggin.

Younghoon threw his head back in a laugh at how your face rearranged into an expression of pure mortification. "You look like I just caught you with a hand in the canary cage—oh my god, you should see your face!"

You were helpless at this point, and no words were coming to your tongue to rescue you. Screw all the differential calculus—where was language ability when you needed it? “I can explain myself,” was all you came up with.

He crossed his arms over his chest, fixing you with a pointed look, albeit still amused. "I'd love to hear this."

“You know that some things just slip my mind—”

“Yes, and that's why I watched you put it into your calendar.”

“And you know that the school has a bad habit of scheduling big events on the same night—”

He cocked a brow at you, leaning forward slightly. “I don't like where this is going, you workaholic.”

You gestured at him with the piece of bread in between your fingers, and he had to cover his mouth to keep from snorting. “I am not a workaholic,” you said firmly.

“Sure you aren't,” he replied back in a tone that indicated he thought the exact opposite.

“Anyways, they put the research symposium on the same night as the last showing—”

“Ah-ha!” He cried with a triumphant finger pointed at the sky. You were convinced that any second now, he was going to start twiddling an immaculately curled mustache. “So you did procrastinate!”

You pressed your lips together as you crumpled your empty packaging, then raised a finger up to scratch your head sheepishly. “Maybe I did.”

Younghoon drew out an exhale. “Aye, I knew it. You know, I think you're just about married to your work, Yn-ah.” His mouth quirked to the side and he scratched the underside of his jaw. “But I guess that's not a bad thing.”

You gave a small wince. “You're not mad I missed the play?”

“Mad? No, of course not. It wasn't my play,” he joked. “I know you have priorities, and me being mad would just be silly.”

“But you are disappointed,” you countered pointedly.

“Disappointed for you,” he countered. “That was a pretty good performance of 12 Angry Jurors. Though… there is one part that I would have chosen to represent differently, but…” He shrugged, letting the thought float out into the ether.

“What is it?” You prompted.

His lip curled upward and he let out a little chuckle. “I'm not telling you; it'll spoil the ending!”

You were unconvinced. “I'm never gonna see the play, Hoon.”

“Not with that attitude,” he shot back.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of you from his sass that came out of left field for you. The sound of your joy made his smile widen and his eyes narrow into pretty, upturned crescent moons. The warmth all around you wasn't just from the evening's temperature. You'd forgotten just how easy it was to talk to Younghoon, and you decided that yes, you definitely missed him. But with all good things, it was written with a curtain call.

Younghoon seemed reluctant to push off of the wall and away from you. “Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer,” he said. There was a down turned angle to the corners of his smile now. “I do need to go re-find parking for when I have to go hunt my drunk friends down.”

Your laugh was small. “Good luck with that. And… don't worry about keeping me anywhere too long.”

“Thanks, and I'll keep that in mind.” His tongue stuck out between his teeth for a second, his head ducking down to shake his hair out of his eyes. “Hey, you still have my phone number, right?”

“I do.”

Whether harsh or dim lighting, it highlighted his features beautifully regardless. His eyes twinkled. “Now I know you won't ignore me if I send you another calc pun.”

“I'll look forward to it,” you promised.

The two of you were beginning to step toward your opposite directions, but failed to make your legs move any further. “Get home safe, Yn,” he murmured in goodbye. The possibility of him never reaching out crossed your mind. It wasn't like you didn't have faith that he would; rather, it was your own thoughts creeping into your head that you two came from different worlds. Despite the friendliness between you, that was the whole reason you shied away from ever reaching out. It was nothing personal against him.

EPISODE TWO: PASS GO & COLLECT TWO HUNDRED

GRAVITY reminded you of its existence when a bundle of fabric hit you square in the head. (Then again, you were always reminded of gravity’s existence when you thought about it…) “Yah—hey!” You clawed the article of fabric off your head and whirled around in your desk chair with a scowl. “Kkura!”

Sakura blinked innocently from where she stood at your closet, hand on her hip. “Put it on.”

You made a face as you straightened out the garment in your hands, the frown deepening when you realized which top it was. Or rather, which dress it was. “I haven’t seen this since I unpacked my clothes from boxes two years ago,” you whistled lowly. It was a black satin piece, something you brought along with you from home in case you ever decided to go to an event that called for a cocktail dress. Most of the formal events you attended though usually allowed you to get away with dress pants and a blouse. This poor piece of fabric had been relegated to the back of your closet since.

Your friend resumed sorting through your clothes for any alternatives or more of that kind. “I didn’t even know you owned something like that. I thought all your bottoms clung to your ankles unless they were shorts.”

“I have variety,” you sniffed and draped the dress over the back of your chair. “And what's wrong with bottoms going to my ankles? I like when they get to be warm.”

“That's what socks and shoes are for.”

“Says the girl who wears jeans that pretty much cover her shoes.”

Sakura shot you a look that reminded you of when your mother was exasperated, but she didn't want to admit that you were right. “Okay, so maybe we both have problems. But that's besides the point!” She walked away from your closet to sit herself on the edge of your bed, her hand dragging the arm of your desk chair to roll you over away from your desk. “We're going to a party tonight!”

She beamed, waving her hands around. When you only gave her a blank stare, she cleared her throat. “Ahem, I said, we're going to a party tonight! Woo!”

You pursed your lips. “Not very woo, to be honest.”

“You're not very woo,” she quipped in a deadpan.

“No, no, no!” You cut in, waving your finger back and forth. “Don't pretend like you wouldn't rather stay home than party either. And besides, you know that I don't do crowds.” You gazed off into space as if recalling the Great War with glazed-over eyes, already smelling the sweat and booze, and feeling the suffocating pressure in your chest as people squished up against you, and as you lost sight of your friend or anyone you knew for that matter, in the sea of—

“I know,” Sakura pushed out an exhale, and your eyes shuddered as you came out of that headspace. “But I think it'll be good for us. I mean, you need to get your eyes away from that grant application for one second, and I—”

“Need to stop playing League?” You suggested cheekily.

Your friend's scowl coaxed a high pitched wheezing sound out of you. She pursed her lips. “I was going to offer to hold your hand while we were in the house, but I guess not—”

“Okay, now let's not get ahead of ourselves!” You countered. The glint in Sakura's eyes when you interrupted her told you all you needed to know. Damn her cleverness; she'd got you once again.

Maybe she was the real mastermind.

Two hours later—the both of you dolled up and willpower strong (ish)—you clung to Sakura's hand as you and she slipped into the lively host house for tonight's festivities. Sweat already dampened the lines in your palm, and you moved your grip on your friend to hold onto her arm instead. You hadn't been to a house party or a frat party in a while, the last one being a birthday party for one of your friends from differential calculus turning twenty-one.

This instance was different. For one, there were far too many people packed together per square inch. And second, who thought turning down the lights was a good idea? You were already half blind as it was…

“I think we should get a drink!” Sakura shouted as she sent you an encouraging smile.

Your eyes widened as you narrowly missed getting someone's shoulder shoved into your face. “Yes, a drink sounds great!”

It was a war zone as the two of you maneuvered yourselves through the crowded living room space. The only reason people seemed to converge in that room in particular was because it had been turned into a makeshift dance floor. There were also people seated on the stairs, leaning over the upstairs landing, and meandering around in the halls.

You could feel your head begin to fog up as you unconsciously shifted closer to Sakura's side. Your friend curled her arm around your shoulders, deftly guiding you through the fray to the light at the end of the tunnel—the kitchen. There was a distinct lightening of your chest as you stepped foot into the less crowded space. The kitchen was still only dimly lit with the most minimal of light switches flipped on, but it was still enough where you could at least see your hand in front of your face and the light layer of sweat on Sakura’s brow. You made a swift scan of the area and spotted three people over by the kitchen counter, one of whom was slumped over the countertop, dozing off.

Oh, to be him right now.

“Oh, hello,” greeted one of the trio. He was stationed behind the counter like a bartender, his purple bangs brushed out of his face. The girl with him lifted her hand in a friendly wave.

“Hi, we’re not—uh, interrupting or anything?” Sakura said as your hold on her arm loosened considerably now that you were in an area that was much less crowded.

The two of them shook their heads with too much enthusiasm. “No, no! Definitely not.”

You and Sakura exchanged glances of incredulity, but didn’t push the topic any further. With pleasantries aside, the two of you excused yourselves to peruse the display of alcoholic beverages on the island space. You knew Sakura could hold her alcohol a decent amount, and so could you, so you both looked around for bottles of flavored soju to hold you over for the evening.

You dug around in one of the coolers and withdrew twin bottles of strawberry-flavored ones. “Kkura!”

Her blue-colored head perked up and she brightened as you waved your treasures around in the air. “Ooh, yay! You know, I think we should restock our stash of melon soju at home,” she mused and came over to where you were.

With your drinks secured, you each took the first sip like a shot, then linked arms to face the crowd again.

Drinking either made your anxiety rocket or relax—it depended on the beverage and the kind of day you’d had, but as you nursed your bottle for moments longer, the heaviness in your chest began to gradually recede.

The crowd anxiety you harbored was a byproduct of being the middle child of five siblings. You loved your family to bits, but sometimes home life was overwhelming. It wasn't that you got nervous around people, but more so in large bodies of people. The first year or so of your university life spent in large undergraduate lectures were absolute hell; there was an appeal to the upper division classes besides specialized interests.

But your friends were all aware and took good care of you, which you were more than grateful for.

“Is it just me—” Sakura said to you loudly with blue and purple lights painting her features, “—or does this soju taste really good tonight?”

You smacked your lips together as you savored the sweet taste. “You're definitely right,” you said. “We might have to go back for more.”

“If we can remember how to get there,” she giggled.

“Wait, what's in here?” You steered the two of you into a doorway to your left.

From the looks of the massive table stretching from one end to the next, you had stumbled upon the dining room. The room was large enough for there to be a few different groups of people occupying sections, but the largest one took reign over the farthest end. Your eyes widened in delight when you recognized two people in particular. “Oh wow.”

“Yn?” Chanhee exclaimed in disbelief. He was partly hunched over what looked like a board game as his deft fingers counted out paper money. “You're here?”

Everyone—well, almost everyone—turned their heads to see who Chanhee was talking about. Nonetheless, there were still quite the amount of eyes looking at you and you felt your palms begin to get sweaty around your bottle neck.

Younghoon gasped. “YN!” He grinned, lumbering over with his jelly-like limbs, tripping over people's legs and chairs. You could see the alcohol in his expression before you smelled it, but you couldn't just not hug him when he wrapped his arms around you in greeting. You hadn't seen him since last week at the convenience store but even then, the surprise had yet to escape you. What a cosmic coincidence.

“Hey, Hoon,” you chuckled in amusement, patting his back affectionately. You didn't know he would be so affectionate when drunk, but then again, this was the first time you were experiencing him like this.

“Big guy's a little drunk,” Sakura observed, then lifted her bottle to her lips. “Are you guys playing Monopoly?”

One of the guys, who looked the most of sound mind and state, nodded. “Yeah. D'you guys wanna play?”

Younghoon placed his hands on your shoulders with a goofy grin slipping onto his face as he pulled away. “You should play with us! Guys—” he announced to his friends, “—this is my bestest friend, Yn!”

“And her friend, Sakura,” you cut in, gesturing to Sakura with jazz hands.

“And we would love to play,” Sakura added.

You passed her a glance. There was mischief dancing in her eyes. You supposed at least you knew what you were getting into before jumping into any game with the Miyawaki Sakura. These poor chumps never stood a chance.

“Okay, but Chanhee's the iron,” remarked one of the other boys while you, Sakura, and Younghoon made your way over to where they all were gathered.

You snorted at Chanhee's less than pleased expression. “Why does he insist that you be the flat iron?” You nudged your friend. You met Chanhee and Jungwoo in a shared freshman differential calculus class where the three of you weathered the war together.

Chanhee sighed, his tongue poking his cheek. “Because apparently I have no ass.”

“BECAUSE YOU DON'T!”

“NEITHER DO YOU!”

With none of that settled, a good majority of the people present gathered around the Monopoly board on the table to play. You, Sakura, and Chanhee all clambered onto the dining table to sit while the others rounded the end of the table. It also gave you a little room to breathe while playing with such a large group.

“Ladies first,” declared one of the boys, who's name you learned was Sunwoo, his eyes at half mast and cheeks flushed like red grapefruit.

“If you insist,” Sakura sang and did a little dance as she swiped the dice up to roll.

You placed a hand over your eyes jokingly. “Look away!”

Haknyeon blinked with his eyes wide. “Why?”

“Because she's about to win faster than you can say pass go and collect two hundred.”

In retrospect, you saw this coming. Even if the universe could construct more possible futures than you had atoms on the tip of your pinky finger, you definitely could have seen this coming.

The aftermath immediately following Sakura's utter domination of the Monopoly board left all of her opponents in a sputtering mess. Your friend dusted her fingers off as if there were crumbs on them, a very satisfied Cheshire's cat grin crawling onto her lips. “You can fight it or just accept it,” she shrugged, taking the last swing of her soju.

Eric stared up at her from where he knelt in front of the table, gripping the edge with his palms. He was all wide-eyed and full of wonder. “Teach me your ways.”

“If you get me another soju,” she offered, gesturing with her empty bottle. She probably didn’t expect him to take her up on the offer, because her eyes widened a comical amount when the kid rocketed up to his feet and darted out of the room, faster than she could blink.

“Is he usually like that, so hyper?” You jested to Chanhee as you and he began reorganizing the paper money.

Your pink-haired friend laughed. “Kind of. Youngjae's cute.”

“And what am I, Channieeee?” Came an inebriated Changmin. He teetered over to where you and Chanhee were, then unceremoniously draped himself over the latter's back.

“Ahhhhhh,” Chanhee groaned, “Ji Changmin!”

“Answer my question!” His friend slurred. “I think Yn thinks I'm cute. D'you think I'm cute?” He asked, gazing up with you in a deep pout and puppy dog eyes.

“Don't answer that question, Yn. It's like making a deal with the Devil.”

Changmin scoffed, straightening to a surprisingly perfect posture. He slapped a hand to his chest in offense. “How could you! Chanhee-ssi! We're supposed to be friends!”

You chuckled, leaning out of that dumpster fire of a conversation, and finding yourself in the company of one very loopy bread enthusiast. Younghoon had slipped back from watching the game about three quarters of the way through and slumped into a chair with a can of beer and his phone. At some point, you had given up on Monopoly, too, and considered joining him. Now, you really did move over to join him.

His head perked up when you leaned over and poked his shoulder, a smile coming to his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled back. “Tired?”

He gave a slow, drawn-out nod. “Mhm,” he hummed. He lifted the can of beer to his lips and finished it off, then dropped his phone into his lap so he could rest his face between his hands. “I'm kind of hungry.”

You laughed. “I bet. How much did you drink, Hoon?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged.

“Long week?”

“Veeeery long week,” he nodded. “Like…” He spread his arms to his full wingspan, “this much.”

A giggle bubbled out of your mouth at how adorable he was when he was drunk.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “Oh my gosh, Yn! I never sent you the joke I found,” he frowned. “I found it and thought about sending it to you, but then…”

“You forgot?” You offered.

“I just didn't wanna bother you, to be honest.”

Oh. Something in you softened a great deal at the confession. You were always so sure that you would have been the bother, because it was difficult to imagine that someone who seemed so sure of himself like Younghoon might also feel the same. You mimicked his position with your hands holding up your face. “You're never a bother, Younghoon.”

“Even when I ask dumb questions about factoring?”

“There is no such thing as a dumb question.”

He pursed his lips into a line, unconvinced. “You're too nice. No wonder I liked doing math homework.”

You laughed again at the unexpected compliment, and Younghoon smiled to himself. “I'm glad you enjoyed doing your calc homework.”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then snapped it shut with wide, doe-like eyes. “I was going to say a joke, but I realized that I probably shouldn't say that one in particular.”

“Wow, you have a filter when you're drunk?” You teased.

“Hey!” He pretended to sulk. “I'm not that drunk!”

A beat passed, and then he said, “I am still hungry though.” Yeah, definitely drunk.

Within fifteen minutes, you convinced Sakura to accompany you and Younghoon to the convenience store a couple blocks from your apartment. The three of you together managed to snag Chanhee to drive you all, as well as Changmin as an accessory since he and Chanhee lived together. Younghoon had once again insisted on this place in particular because he thoroughly enjoyed the brioche bun from the other day and had been missing it since. You and he settled down at the seating area in the corner of the store with your freshly-purchased bread, while the others traipsed around in search of other sustenance.

Younghoon's cheeks were full of brioche as he muttered a muffled, “You know why I like—calculus jokes?” He swallowed his bite, his eyebrows braiding together as he stared at his now empty package.

You quietly plucked the empty bag out of his hands and replaced it with yours.

He melted at the action. “I do.”

You bursted into a fit of giggles and Younghoon followed straight after you. Your face filled with fire and his bloomed like a blood red rose. The alcohol was slowly settling in. You were a lot more refreshed now that you were outside of the crowd setting, and your chest felt much lighter. “You do?”

“I do,” he reaffirmed, tearing the last bit of bread apart for you both to share instead. “You know why I like—” he hiccupped with the bread half in his mouth. His face morphed into one of confusion, then utter disdain.

You stifled a laugh with your bite of carbs. “Why do you like calculus jokes, Younghoon?” You asked to help him out.

He swallowed his bite. “Because—trig jokes are too graphic and algebra ones are too for—” He hiccupped again, his eyes shooting up toward the ceiling in exasperation.

“Formulaic?” You offered.

Younghoon frowned. “You know this one?”

“I enjoy guessing.”

“Hm,” he grunted, unconvinced. “There is one outlier though.” When he hiccupped for the third time, you patiently waited for him to fill in the blank. “Statistics.”

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I have to say, that was very subtle but very good.”

Younghoon beamed with pride. “I knew you would get i—” Another hiccup. He deadpanned. “I hate this.”

You stood up with a chuckle. “Let me get you some water.”

“Thanks,” he pouted. You felt his eyes on you the whole time you went over to the free water cooler over at the counter, and even as you brought him back the little paper cup of liquid.

As he drained the cup, you lingered next to where he sat rather than sitting back down. “Better?” You asked, then held your hand out to take the cup back if he wanted more.

He shook his head though, and he raised it up to his eyes while squinting one of them to aim it at the trash can behind your seat. “How do I get this exactly inside the trash?”

You blinked, eyeballing the distance between his seat and the trash can. The paper cup wasn't going to have a lot of weight while it was empty, but if he threw it with the opening facing him instead…

Younghoon made a noise that sounded a lot like a child's giggle. “Hehe, you're actually doing the math in your head.”

“You don't know that,” you muttered.

“Of course I know that.” He shucked the paper cup and it landed in the trash can with a clean swish sound. He threw his hands in the air. “Woo! Crowd goes wild.”

You laughed and slid back into your seat. “See, you didn't need math to get the cup into the trash can. Nice throw, Hoon.”

He grinned at you. “Thanks. You know how I knew you were doing the math in your head?”

“How?” You humored him amiably.

“Because you get this cute little wrinkle between your eyes, riiiight there—” He leaned forward and booped the place between your eyes, making you go cross-eyed for a split second. “—when you're processing info.”

“Processing info makes me sound like a computer,” you joked.

“Too bad you're not a keyboard,” he said with a sigh, “you'd be just my type.”

An unnaturally loud guffaw came out of your mouth and you slapped your hand over it. There was far too much mirth between the two of you right now. “You're telling me you're good at this drunk, too?” You shook your head, the laugh lingering on your tongue, “Y'know what? I shouldn't be surprised.”

If Younghoon could come up with pick-up lines to remember how to do calculus sober, then you should not have underestimated him drunk.

“Changmin, can you put the plunger down before we get kicked out?” Your head turned toward the sound of Chanhee's pure exhaustion as the three others rounded the corner. You imagined Chanhee dealt with drunk Changmin more than a few times to sound so exasperated. You didn't even want to know what Changmin was doing with the plunger.

Sakura, Chanhee, and Changmin bumbled over to where you and Younghoon sat, the supposed plunger nowhere to be seen. Chanhee brushed a lock of pink out of his eyes with a deep sigh. “Alright; shall we?”

EPISODE THREE: DO AS THE PHYSICISTS DO

THE hungrier Younghoon woke up, the more he likely had to drink the night prior. His stomach growled something horrific and he groaned, rolling his body over to squish his face into his pillow. There were no trains of thought running through his mind at the moment; there was only blissful quiet. And hunger. Goddamn it, he was hungry.

With a huff, he dragged himself upright as if he were rising from the dead. He gave his head a rough shake, eyes bleary as he blinked once… then twice… Oh, yuck. Sticky eyelashes.

There was something white on his desk that caught his eye. There was a yellow sticky note marked with Chanhee's chicken scratch beside it: Yn sent you home with this bottle of painkillers. In case you don't remember, lol.

Dear god, it was coming back to him now.

Younghoon lowered himself down onto the edge of his bed and dragged a hand down his face. Had he been weird? Did you think he was weird now?

His phone was buried somewhere beneath his mess of sheets, and he pulled up your contact that he still had saved from last year. The last message sent was from a brief conversation you both had after his calculus final about what you were both doing when you went home for the winter break. He could feel the warmth creeping up to his cheeks from his neck as he typed out the first message to you since: heyy… about last night…

It was a bit of a surprise when he saw your reply come in nearly straight away.

miss mastermind: LOL good morning, did u sleep okay? younghoon's phone: decently ig 😅 thanks for the painkillers btw i will def take a couple of those miss mastermind: yeah no worries younghoon's phone: how bad was i last night, yn 😭 u can tell me miss mastermind: 😭 u weren't that bad… okay maybe u started singing the calculus parody of bohemian rhapsody on the way to my apartment…

Younghoon snickered into his palm as he stared at the messages on the screen. That memory was definitely rolling back into his head now. It was that, along with the Monopoly game, then the convenience store, and finally, the walk to yours and Sakura's apartment before Chanhee dropped him off here.

miss mastermind: i can't say im too surprised u remembered it tho 😭 sometimes i forget that ur trained to remember things younghoon's phone: that's a funny way to describe being an actor LMAO younghoon's phone: but also i'd be lying if i didn't admit that im so embarrassed abt last night miss mastermind: nooo don't be!! it's all good, i thought u were a very cute drunk

He smiled against his hand. He typed: Well now I just have to make it up to you.

miss mastermind: u absolutely do not younghoon's phone: actually i do younghoon's phone: if i recall correctly, u gave me the rest of ur BREAD. that's like…|

He paused, having nearly written “marriage proposal.” Quickly backspacing, he replaced it with “donating an organ.” Maybe he was a little delusional, but he could've sworn he heard your laugh echoing in his head after he sent it and saw the indicator appear that you were typing. He reached over to grab the bottle of painkillers as he monitored your texts coming in.

miss mastermind: DONATING AN ORGAN… miss mastermind: yk, i knew u liked bread, but not THIS much younghoon's phone: but ofc :0 she's my first love miss mastermind: understood o7 now ik how to sway ur judgment ☝️ younghoon's phone: le gasp younghoon's phone: truly evil mastermind things only miss mastermind: the le gasp is taking me out 😭 younghoon's phone: how abt /i/ take u out instead 😗

As soon as he sent it, he grimaced. Oh no, this was going to be taken out of context. You were going to go through the whole “sorry, I'm not really interested in you” talk, and he would have to sit through it pretending like it didn't hurt—he didn't mean for it to sound like that. You were just friends after all.

younghoon's phone: I MEAN LIKE younghoon's phone: for watching over me and humoring me last night yk! it doesn't have to be something fancy either, just something that we can do as friends! and to say thanks

His grimace deepened. Those clarification texts did nothing to help his case. It also did not calm his nerves when you failed to respond immediately like you had been for the past few minutes. “Well, you've done it now,” he muttered to himself as he frowned down at the screen.

For a couple minutes, there was nothing from your end and he forced himself to drag his ass off the bed in search of sustenance. Hyunjae's door was closed, so the rest of the apartment was quiet as he bounded out of his room toward the kitchen. Periodically (read: every couple seconds), Younghoon would glance at his phone screen waiting for your reply. “What are you scared of?” He said to himself as he opened the fridge and scratched his jaw. “You literally came up with pick-up lines for calculus terms with her.”

There were leftovers from a couple nights ago, and Younghoon grabbed those to heat up. He closed the refrigerator with his hip, eyes darting to his phone, only to see his screen light up. He dropped the leftover container on the counter and scooped the device up.

miss mastermind: i really don't think it's necessary to pay it back or anything, but we can def hang out! miss mastermind: also sorry my sister stole my phone TT but i got it back haha It was sad how fast relief flushed through him at that moment. younghoon's phone: oh no dw abt it lol ur with family rn? miss mastermind: i am! my aunt's in town and so i was summoned home for brunch 🤧 younghoon's phone: …is there :’)) uhm french toast :’)) miss mastermind: *sent a photo* younghoon's phone: that was cruel. miss mastermind: HAHAHA SORRY 😭

Younghoon stuck his leftovers into the microwave to heat up, but was suddenly craving French toast. He knew for certain he didn't have everything to make it right this second though. Maybe he would wake Hyunjae up to go impromptu grocery shopping.

younghoon's phone: i don't wanna keep u away from ur family any longer, but lmk if u have any preferences for what we should do together miss mastermind: no prefs in particular and dw, talking to u helps distract me from the amount of chaos happening in this house :’) miss mastermind: i do have to go now tho unfortunately :l my sister looks like she's abt to snatch my phone again 😭 younghoon's phone: LOL 😭 okay i'll talk to u soon then younghoon's phone: enjoy ur toast :/ miss mastermind: HAHA i'll save u a slice hoon 😋

The microwave beeped its conclusion, and Younghoon pulled the piping hot bowl of leftover food out. As he took a stab at it with his fork, he came to the swift conclusion that he was not going to be full on this. As he shoveled the food into his mouth, he started toward Hyunjae's room to give his friend a very rude awakening. “HYUNJAE! WE NEED FRENCH TOAST!”

There was no better place than the convenience store at the ripe timestamp of ten o'clock to meet with a friend. You'd gotten back from your house at around four o'clock in the afternoon, so you weren't too tired, though the cleanup and all the social interaction was threatening to take you out. Any school work or grant application work would have to wait until tomorrow.

Nonetheless, you felt a giddy sort of excitement bubble up in you as you hustled yourself down the street to the convenience store to meet Younghoon. In your hands, you clutched a small, sandwich-sized Tupperware container with a slice of holy French toast within. It was your older brother's favorite thing to make when he had to contribute to a brunch (or, let's face it, any meal) spread.

Younghoon had never been tardy to your tutoring sessions last year, so you weren't surprised when you saw him seated at your usual table in the corner. He glanced up from his phone as you walked in, waving. There was a blue colored beanie over his head and a brown corduroy jacket draped over his shoulders.

He noted the container in your hands and his eyes widened like saucers. “You did not.”

“I told you I would save you a piece,” you said sheepishly as you set the container down in front of him and took a seat.

“You—” His bottom lip jutted out. “I can't accept this.”

“You have to. It has your name on it,” you insisted, pointing out the little “Younghoon” scrawled on the side in Sharpie with a smiley face. It was customary in your household to write names on containers if they weren't already color coded or marked with a label. Label makers cost more than Sharpies did, and most of the time, your family didn't mind scrubbing the ink off if needed.

Younghoon's smile was sweet like the pastry sitting in the Tupperware. “I literally made French toast as soon as we stopped texting.”

You laughed. “No way.”

“Yes way! I dragged Hyunjae's ass out of bed,” he told you with great energy, eyes alight as he recalled his late morning antics to you. “I really didn't expect that you would bring me a slice, Yn, you sweetheart.”

“We had lots of leftovers and I just knew the most enthusiastic bread fanatic I knew had to try some of my big brother's toast,” you told him, pleased with his reaction.

He seemed at a loss for words; he just kept looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and you wondered how you could replicate this reaction over and over again. “Thank you,” was what he settled on. “I—” He gestured to the container, to you, to the container, “It means a lot.”

“You're welcome,” you said simply.

Younghoon heaved a great sigh and stood up. “Now I have to buy you some snacks—no. Yn, sit your ass down.”

Your eyes widened a comical amount and you plopped yourself back onto the chair.

His lips wiggled as he held back a smile. “Don't move.”

“You don't have to do this, Hoon,” you shook your head as he began making his way over to the aisles.

“What's that rule in chemistry? Energy can neither be created nor destroyed?” He queried from within the drinks aisle.

“The first law of thermodynamics,” you supplied. “It's not just chemistry though. It's relevant in all the sciences.” You weren't sure where he was going with this.

“Yeah, well—” He paused. You couldn't see him from where you were, but even the rustling noises stopped. “Shit, that's not the right rule.”

You bit back a laugh. Oh, he was too adorable.

“What's the one where equal and opposite and…?”

Your brain tripped. “Uh, the—the 'for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction’ one?”

More crinkling. “Aha! That's the one. Yeah, so for your actions, I must do as the physicists do, and react accordingly.”

Younghoon returned to you with an entire treasure trove of goodies that you swore amounted to more than what was due. (That number to you was technically zero, but for Younghoon's insistence, it was slightly over zero… maybe one one-thousandth.) It was a smorgasbord of peach drinks with lychee jelly, potato chips, daifuku mochi, and of course, bread buns. It was a feast in its own right. You both dove straight into the snacks before you. When life gave one lemons, one was to make lemonade.

Younghoon popped a chip into his mouth. “Do you come here often? Is this your hangout spot?” He suddenly asked, then dipped his hand into the bag and waved a chip around in the air, a quizzical kink in his brow. “I mean, you do live close by and you seem to be very familiar with the place.”

You screwed the cap of your bottle of juice back on and wiggled your fingers as you surveyed what snack to eat next. “I do hang out here often—you’re right,” you replied. The daifuku looked very appetizing right about now. “I've been coming by since school started to knock out my grant app.”

He perked up curiously. “Grant app?”

“It's for the Space Grant.” In partnership with the national space organization, your university offered something called the Space Grant, which would grant three applicants with a monetary award that could be used toward their education in aerospace. You'd had your eye on it even before you began attending this school, and you were determined to be one of the three who won it this year.

After you briefed him on the cause of much of your recent stress, Younghoon gave an indulging nod. “Mmmmh, I see. You're still aerospace engineering then, right?”

“Yep,” you chirped. “me and propulsion theory to the end. I guess I'm an airplane kid.” At the latter, you made a face. You were the space version of an airplane kid… the alternate of train kids and car kids…

“Don't think about it too much,” he said with corners of his smile peeking out on either side of where he pressed his fist against his lips.

You tried not to. “How about you? What have you been up to?”

He breathed out an exhale. “Hm? Oh, like, with drama?”

“Sure, anything and everything about you.” You leaned your cheek against your fist and peered over at him. “We've been talking about me too much.”

“Nonsense,” he tsked. “You already know I recite lines, dabble in the hilariously good pun on occasion, and am incredibly obsessed with carbohydrates.”

“What more could I possibly wanna know?” You played along.

“Exactly.” He chuckled then, tongue darting out for a second to wet his lips. “Jokes aside, nothing too much. Hyunjae's best friend, HJ!Yn—she’s a director and writer, and she's putting on her own play in the spring that I'll be auditioning for.”

Your eyebrows arched in interest. “Oh? What's it about?”

“No clue.”

You nodded. “Ah, well, good luck—or, break a leg. People say that, right? It's not just in movies?”

“People do say that, yes,” he affirmed. “And thank you. I'm gonna start a part-time teaching job at a school nearby for their theater program, which I think will be fun.”

“That does sound fun,” you agreed. Because you had two younger siblings yourself, you knew that taking care of young ones was a lot, but if anyone could do it, you knew Younghoon could. You imagined he would do quite well with them. “Let me know when they have a performance!”

His eyes twinkled in the fluorescent lights; you were beginning to grow more accustomed to the way the harsh brightness painted his features softer. “You have to promise to come though. This is more important than 12 Angry Jurors.”

You placed a hand against your heart in playful solemnity. “I, Yn Ln, do solemnly swear that I will try my very best to make it to see their performance.”

He cleared his throat, his expression falling into an expertly grave facade. “I accept your promise,” he said and extended his hand out to you across the table, “shake my hand, and may the deal never be broken.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking out of character as you shook his hand. When you'd both withdrawn your hands, you watched him, fascinated, as he exited out of character. It was like a switch had been flicked off behind his eyes. Crazy.

Satisfied, Younghoon laced his fingers beneath his chin with a giddy, little smile on his face. “I'll save you an aisle seat.”

“I appreciate that,” you said. You really did—and he really remembered.

“And I'll make silly faces at you from the curtain wings.”

You laughed, telling him you couldn't wait.

EPISODE FOUR: TRAINS GO BOOM?

THERE were too many fires to put out at once. You were becoming the humanoid version of that dog in a burning house meme, and you didn't like it. It was not fine.

“Girl, I wish you'd told me, like, three weeks ago—”

You tasted the rejection a mile out.

“—I already committed to this robotics thing that night,” Jungwoo cried in anguish as he threw his head back. “I could've gone to the Space Gala! Instead, I'm watching people play with robots.”

You passed him a sympathetic look. “Robots are cool.”

“But I don't even get to do anything! I can only spectate!” You both stopped in the middle of your walk as he made unintelligible noises and gesticulations. Jungwoo grabbed your shoulders and shook them. “YN! WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? I have to pay to watch people have fun.”

Your head was wobbling back and forth like a bobble head. Thank god for spines. “Woo—I’m gonna be honest—”

He stopped shaking you.

“I have no idea,” you said to him. “But we are in the same boat.”

The two of you were currently situated on the engineering side of campus. Most of the buildings around you were geared toward the great spectrum of engineering students—from electrical and computer, to aerospace and nautical. You just got out of a numericals simulation course and caught up with Jungwoo coming out of the engineering library to present to him your newest dilemma.

Jungwoo's posture sank. “I only have regrets after pursuing MechE.”

You pursed your lips, lamely patting him on the shoulder. “I told you aero is cooler.”

“I won't dignify that with an answer,” he sulked. Jungwoo picked himself up, however, as he always did. He carded a hand through his floppy brown bangs, eyes flickering down to his phone screen before his eyeballs nearly fell out of his socket. “Oh shit—I’m gonna be late to advanced mathematics. Chanhee is gonna murder me.”

He bumped your shoulder with the back of his hand. “Good luck on finding a plus one, Yn-ie!”

“Good luck getting there before Chanhee,” you hollered back.

Jungwoo threw you an expression that needed no subtitles, but fitting ones would read, That was so unnecessary!

As your friend sprinted in one direction, you began walking in the opposite direction. You had a little more than a couple hours before your next lecture, so you could probably either walk around and enjoy the day's nice weather or find a place to work. All bets were off when you felt your phone buzz from your pocket, and you saw the message on the screen. It was a text from your older sister: hey mom's asking if u have something to wear to the wedding lol.

The “LOL” at the end really downplayed how much stress this was going to give you. The entire event of The Wedding had slipped from your mind over the past week—actually, you were pretty sure you forgot the moment you got back into your car to drive home from brunch last weekend.

If you thought you had a large immediate family, your extended one would silence all thoughts instantly. One of your cousins-in-law was getting married in December, which meant you needed to find an outfit and mentally prepare yourself for the amount of people there were going to be in one room.

The Wedding made you anxious.

You shot your sister a frazzled text back. It was something along the lines of: maybe… lemme check the back of my closet… or pray I have funds in my bank account.

You somehow made your way to one of the green spaces on campus. It wasn't the main lawn that people picnicked or hung out on, but it was still just as beautiful as the main one. It also sat right by the café located down here in the engineering corner; you and your friends liked to loiter around here when the weather was nice.

It was exactly why you thought you were hallucinating when you saw Younghoon walking toward you.

“Younghoon?” You voice incredulously. “What're you doing here?”

He beamed at you, reaching a hand up to cup the back of his neck. “Oh, you know, just taking a walk and enjoying this nice, autumn weather…”

“Down in the engineering buildings?”

He sniffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I wasn't purposely trying to look for you or anything,” he said and rocked back and forth on his heels.

You didn't need to know rocket science to read him. “Okay,” you drawled. “Say I believe you.”

“Divine coincidence,” he shrugged helplessly, jovially, even. His eyes were upturned in cute crescent moons. “Oh! And would you look at that—” He swung his backpack around to the front of his body and withdrew your plastic container from its depths, empty and clean, with even his sharpied name scrubbed off. “I just happened to have this on me.”

You sputtered out a laugh and accepted the container from him. “How funny that this pattern of events keeps happening.”

“Pfft, I know, right?” He brushed a hand through his hair. “So, uh, what're you up to?”

“What am I up to?” You parroted. “Not sure, to be honest. I've got a couple hours to kill. What about you?”

Younghoon gestured to the walkway that bordered the perimeter of the engineering lawn. You fell into step beside one another. “Nothing much, too. I kind of just needed a little walk outside to clear my head.”

You sighed, nodding. “I get that.”

“That sounded… very heavy,” he said, passing you a glance. “Something on your mind, Mastermind?”

“Oh, well,” you trailed off, uncertain of where to begin or how to begin. It seemed like Younghoon had something on his mind, too, and you didn't want to give him something else to hold onto. But when you looked over at him, there was a concentrated, concerned furrow in his brow; he was nowhere else but present with you.

You clasped the back of your neck and felt the knot in your muscles. “There's this thing.”

“Mhm.”

“Colloquially, it's referred to as the Space Gala, but it's kind of just an evening prepared by the Space Grant Consortium with a bunch of booths and a Q&A panel—things like that.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Wow, a whole consortium?”

“Yup.” You'd been a member of the student club associated with the consortium since freshman year, not just to keep up to date with information about the space grant, but because you enjoyed attending the events and learning about new innovations related to your desired field. “And it's a little formal where everyone dresses nicely to a degree, and each member can bring a plus one. Usually, Sakura comes with me, but something just came up for her that she can't avoid so—” You made a helpless gesture with your hands.

It was no fault of her own that she couldn't avoid the personal matter that came for her. You just needed to find someone to go with you now, but finding someone on such short notice was proving to be less than swift.

“Ah,” Younghoon said in understanding. “You'd like to attend with someone you're comfortable with because it's a large gathering of people, and—when is it?”

“Next Friday,” you grimaced.

He blinked. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah.”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “Hey, I mean, if you're looking for someone to go with—I dunno if you're comfortable with me compared to your closer friends—and I don't want to seem as if I'm inviting myself, but—”

“Younghoon,” you cut in with the knots in your neck and shoulders suddenly dissipating. You pressed your hands together, touching them to your lips. “Would you like to go to the Space Gala with me?”

The most beautiful smile blossomed onto his face then, and you swore to go it was warmer than the sun's beams. For a second, his cheekbones darkened with something bashful, but it was hidden in the blink of an eye, and you were met again with the charming Younghoon you knew well. “Why, there's nothing I would love to do more.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” he laughed. “I'm happy to go with you, Yn. I mean, what does Sakura usually do to help you when you're in crowded places?”

Hold my hand. That thought was immediately cast aside. That was probably far too much. You coughed, “Uhm, just—you know—stick around me. I get kind of overwhelmed when there are a lot of people around.”

“Overstimulation?” He offered sympathetically.

“I suppose that's the word I'm looking for.”

Younghoon nodded. “Okay. Hey, that's okay. You just tell me what I need to do to make you feel safe and I'll do it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you couldn't figure out the right words to express your gratitude. It was hard not to downplay your own misgivings; it took time to practice being patient with yourself. “Thanks, Hoon. I don't really… know what to say, but I really do appreciate it.”

“You don't have to say anything,” he said easily. “And I think, personally, I'm a great plus one.”

If only all of your troubles in life could be fixed so simply by Kim Younghoon being your plus one.

Your stroll together took you down toward the environmental science building. It was a path through a heavily forested area, though a little strange even being located somewhere south of the main campus. The paved sidewalk faded into a worn dirt path, and sunlight filtered in through the layers of leaves crisscrossing overhead.

“I've spilled my guts,” you piped up, “now what's on your mind?” You added swiftly, “If you're comfortable with sharing.”

Younghoon blew out an exhale from his mouth. “You know that job I mentioned? The one where I'm working with a youth theater program nearby?”

You nodded. “Yeah, how's that going, by the way?”

“I'm not sure,” he admitted with his mouth shifted to the side. “I had my first day with them on Wednesday, and I'm seeing them again today. I think I'm just nervous that they'll get bored of me.”

Ah, you could understand that. Surely your years helping out with your younger siblings could lend some use. It was rare to see Younghoon in this state of unease, and it was even more rare to think of someone who wouldn't like him. Seeing him troubled even a little made your stomach churn, and you wanted to help find a solution. “How old are they?”

“They’re all older primary school kids,” he said. “Young enough to not be scary middle schoolers and old enough to have some kind of attention span.”

You smiled to yourself. “Oh, I know exactly what you're talking about.”

“I knew you would.” He brightened. “You have younger siblings, don't you? Any chance one of them wants to become an actor?”

“Oh, hm,” you murmured, “Sadie's got her eyes set on ballet right now and I think Quincey's really only fascinated about his trains. They can be swayed though, I'm sure.”

“How do I keep a kid's interest though?”

You wish you had a formula for that. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “To be so honest with you, kids just like learning about dangerous shit.”

Younghoon wheezed. “What?”

You grabbed his shoulder as you both stopped in the walkway so he would face you. “Listen—no, I'm being serious, Younghoon!” You were trying to get a hold of this man as if you weren't gradually losing it, too. “Do you know how many times my little brother has made his trains go boom?”

“Yn.”

“He has problems, I know; he's like, four and a half or something.”

Younghoon's eyes were filled with mirth as he pressed his knuckles against his mouth. “Yn, do you know how insane that sounds?”

Your eyes shuddered in a blink. “Huh?”

He grappled onto your shoulders with another wheeze, eyes moist with laughter and a twinge of something else you couldn't process. “Yn, are you free next Friday at three?”

“Yeah?”

“Come with me to see the kids?”

“Okay.”

His tongue ran over his teeth as he grinned. Younghoon's head dipped in a nod, and he dropped his hands to the side. You didn't know what the hell just happened, but you had a feeling a solution was very much found.

EPISODE FIVE: TO INFINITY & BEYOND

“PLEASE tell me you're leaving the medieval torture devices out of the discussion.”

You passed him a look from the passenger's side of Younghoon's Prius. (It was objectively hilarious to watch this man fold his long limbs up to get in and out of this car; you didn’t know how the laws of nature even allowed a human with his height to own and drive one of these things.) “You say that like you were sure I wasn't.”

It was currently the Friday following, and the day you and Younghoon would both be each other's plus ones. Presently, you were in his car as he drove you both over to the elementary school where he was part-timing. Once this class was over, you would split off to prepare for tonight's Space Gala before meeting again at the venue on campus.

He turned his signal on as he pulled into the parking lot. “I'm just making sure.” He glanced over at you. “Are you excited?”

“To have about two dozen pairs of eyes on me?” You had faced crowds before and they weren't your forte, but you supposed if they were all bite-sized people this time, it wouldn't be so bad. Plus, Younghoon said they would be sitting down and working in groups most of the time anyways. The appeal of this crowd was that you didn't have to worry about getting swept up.

“They're all nice kids,” he said as if consoling you. “It'll be fun!”

“But I can talk about the trebuchet, right?” You asked after he parked and you were clambering out of the car. That one time you went down a fascinating rabbithole of medieval machinery was about to come in handy.

Younghoon paused with his hand on the top of his door. “That wasn't the one with the horse-pulling, was it?”

“Oh, definitely not.”

He locked the door and the two of you began walking side by side to cross the parking lot. There was a plastic clipboard in his hand made of a material in a shade of translucent neon green, something you expected a PE teacher would carry around, except this clipboard was armed with scripts and instructor notes. The little drama program at this school was currently only an after-school occurrence, but if this all went well, they might be granted permission from the school to start integrating it into everyday classes. It was exciting—you could remember your first years of exposure to things like liquid nitrogen ice cream, egg drop competitions, and the National Geographic issue called Astronauts. Perhaps in another life you would've been an astronaut, rather than the engineer who designed the vessel that would take them into space.

Needless to say, these were some of their most impressionable years, and Younghoon was going to be a big part of these kids’. It made you warm and fuzzy inside.

Sometime between today and last week, Younghoon brought you up to speed on what the kids were currently working on. The head instructor picked out something from an adapted version of How to Train Your Dragon, which in all honesty, was cool as fuck. Immediately, thoughts about how to build a harness apparatus for an actual dragon model came to your mind, but you would need to take a look at the dimensions of the stage and preferably leave flamethrowers out of the end result. That was if you were allowed to or even had the time to.

It would be fun though. Of course it was going to be fun.

Younghoon was the first one to enter the auditorium room. It was a multipurpose building with a large, open concept space lined in carpet with a stage at the furthest end and the doors to the library across the way. With the impending introduction, you stuck behind your friend as he poked his head in. Instant squeals of delight erupted at the sight of him. (He was kidding when he said he was worried about the kids ever getting bored of him, right?) “Younghoon!”

Younghoon’s smile was so big that you could see it even when his face was half turned. “Hi everyone—I brought a friend today. Let’s give her a nice, warm welcome, hm?” Younghoon stepped completely into the room now, his hand coming over to gently sweep you in with him by your shoulder. “This is Yn.”

You raised your hand in a small, awkward wave, a greeting somehow managing to come out of your mouth. There were so many little ones present and they were all sitting in a misshapen blob in the middle of the carpet, their backpacks lined up against one of the side walls. Interacting with children who weren’t your siblings or relatives was a lot different.

“Oh my gosh,” you heard one of them gasp. “Is she his partner?”

“No, she is not my partner—she’s a friend,” Younghoon replied pointedly. “Boys and girls can be friends, Roni.”

There was a boy with a gray colored Lightning McQueen jacket on who said, “That’s exactly what my brother said before he asked his best friend to be boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Well. You angled your head toward your counterpart and murmured to him, “How old did you say these kids were?”

“Now you know why I needed your help,” he joked. “Their brains run too fast.”

“And you think the two of ours can measure up?”

Another small one—she had her dark hair in twin pigtails, knotted off with bows—raised her hand. “Are you an actor like Younghoon?”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself as if there was someone else she could’ve been asking. “Oh, no, I don’t have the skillset to be an actor,” you mused. “I basically make airplanes and rockets.” Basically.

A flurry of excitement kicked up like a snowstorm, and you could feel your skin warm at the sudden increase in energy. Perhaps you should have led with that..? But even so, it was abrupt, and you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself—

Younghoon cleared his throat, “Hey guys, let’s keep our noise level down, please.”

In response to his request, the kids miraculously managed to quiet themselves down to a buzzing chatter. It hit you at that moment; Younghoon wasn’t just good with kids—he was incredible. Why did he ever think he needed your help when you could barely stutter out a sentence about what you did instead of acting?

“I told Yn about the show we’re putting on,” he said with everyone’s attention now settled on him, including yours, “and she was very excited about seeing it.”

“Is she gonna make us fly?” Someone asked with their eyes wide and big, and you swore you could fit the whole Milky Way within the awe that was in their irises. Kids, man.

“Only if you guys do good today,” Younghoon said. “Why don’t we break off into groups and show Miss Yn what we’ve been practicing, hm?”

You managed to pick out the Star Trek theme over the volume of your hair dryer, and swore loudly as you cut the device off and scurried into your room to find your phone. “Hello?” You answered as you brought your phone back with you into the bathroom.

“Hey,” answered Younghoon, “I was thinking of just picking you up to go to the thing tonight instead of just meeting there.”

It was approximately two hours since you and Younghoon departed from the elementary school. You were back at your apartment now, attempting to get your bearings and clean yourself up for the evening's festivities.

You could feel the gears turning in your head as you weighed your options. “I mean—only if it’s convenient.”

“Okay, I’ll be by at say… 7?”

“Sounds good,” you replied as you finished up styling your hair. Though nicknamed the Space Gala, it wasn’t meant to be incredibly formal like dinner jackets and evening gowns—nice shirts, ironed pants and skirts, and non-sneakers or non-sandals would do fine. “Thanks, Hoon.”

“Mhm!” He chirped to the accompaniment of rustling in the background.

“Also—” You grabbed your phone and flicked the bathroom light off. As you were making your way back into your bedroom, you saw Sakura peer out through her open doorway with curious eyes like that of a cat. She wagged her eyebrows at you knowingly and you shooed at her playfully. “Kim Younghoon, you are such a liar!”

His laugh was sincere and bright. “Technically, I never lied.”

“You are great with kids.”

“Being good with kids is a subjective quality, my friend,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, you did great with them, too. They loved you.”

You pursed your lips in a sad, silly attempt to stay petty, but you couldn’t deny that you had a nice time with him and his students this afternoon. Once the initial jitters subsided, you loosened up a considerable amount. Adults oftentimes underestimated how perceptive kids were, but you had a feeling that they caught onto what made you feel overwhelmed pretty quickly. At least, most of the groups you were working with did.

But… you had fun. That was all that mattered in the end. You would enjoy going back to see them again. You kicked your door closed with your foot. “I had a good time,” you replied at last. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Yeah, of course. It was really fun having you there with me—us.”

You both paused on either end of the phone as the conversation reached a natural lull point. As you fitted on the freshly-steamed blouse you planned to wear tonight, you caught the time at the top of your phone screen. “Uh… so I’ll see you in about twenty minutes then?”

Shuffling from his end, and then, “Yep—twenty minutes! See you in a bit, Yn-ah.”

“Bye, Hoon!”

Twenty minutes flew by faster than 299,000,000 meters per second—at least, to you. One moment, you were ducking into the passenger side seat of Younghoon’s Prius, and the next, the two of you were being admitted in through the doors of the annual Space Gala. The usual “venue” that the consortium booked for this event was one of the campus’s main buildings that housed three large lecture rooms on the first floor, as well as two lecture halls on the second floor across from another large event space.

The lobby was filled with a crush of people, with some faces you recognized and others that you didn't. There were tables draped over with black cloth that hosted educational mini games where one could win free button pins and stickers, booths with companies associated with the consortium present to pitch potential internships, and everything in between. Younghoon stuck to your side like glue. You felt the warmth of his hand either between your shoulder blades or on one of your shoulders as the two of you maneuvered your way through the crowd.

It wasn’t until you hit the farther end of the lobby where there was a clearing of people that you felt the pressure in your sternum alleviate. You imagined your gaze appeared a little empty, glassy even, but it was all just an overwhelming wave of sensations on all ends.

“How’re you feeling?” You heard Younghoon’s voice close to your ear so you could hear him but anyone else around you couldn’t.

You focused on that—his voice. “I’m fine,” you assured him with a small smile. “I’m excited to be here and it’s just a lot.”

Younghoon smiled back at you and you felt his palm warm little circles on your back. “Take your time. The guy at the front says it’ll be another half hour until we can expect the panel to start.”

“Kkura and I—we, uh, usually go in a little earlier than everyone else.” Depending on the year, you and Sakura either occupied seats in the front couple of rows or one of the balcony seats. The former was to distract you from the idea of several hundred other people being in the room behind you, whereas the latter was so you had a large space between you and the crowd. Both were methods that you and your friend deduced were the best at soothing any feelings of overwhelm.

He nodded. “Okay, yeah, we can still do that. Are there any tables you wanna visit before we go in?”

“Actually,” you said, and your heart leapt at the memory of one booth you visited every year, “I have to show you this one thing—it’s so neat. It might be on the other side of the lobby, but we can cut upstairs and get to it that way.” Where there was a will, there was most definitely a way.

Younghoon’s expression mirrored the excitement in yours. “Lead on, Yn-ah,” he chuckled and let you grab his hand to show him why you loved what you did.

This year was dubbed a balcony year.

From yours and Younghoon’s perch up in the balcony rows, you could peer down at the hundreds of heads below, as well as the presentations given onstage. You were always blown away by the new information and possibilities brought up during the year’s presentations, as well as during the question and answer section where audience members could either line up to ask the panelists their queries directly or send them anonymously to an online platform.

Your preferred method was most definitely the latter because public speaking was not your forte, even though it meant you would have less probability for your questions to be answered. One year, Kkura had practically escorted you up to a panelist when everyone was leaving because you had a burning question.

But this year was different. All of your awe was coupled with the amount of marvel expressed by your partner for the evening. If you were fascinated by what was being discussed below, then Younghoon just entered a whole new galaxy.

You found yourself glancing over at him the whole night to watch his reaction. Periodically, your eyes would meet, and you might have been embarrassed to be caught looking at him, but it was completely dashed away by the pure reverence that was stark on his face.

At some point, the evening did have to come to an end, and you and Younghoon lingered up in the balcony to let everyone else below you trickle out first.

“That,” Younghoon whistled low, “was incredible. I’m so—” He made unintelligible hand gestures before coming up with a word, “—bedazzled. I’m positively bedazzled.”

You grinned. “I’m very pleased to hear that you’re bedazzled.”

“I mean, why don’t we hear about this on the news?” He queried, eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. He reached up to adjust the wiggly star headband on top of his head that he won from a spin-the-wheel stall earlier. “If they talked about finding organic chemicals on faraway planets on the evening news, viewership from my devices would skyrocket for them.”

“Don’t we all wish they talked about space on the news,” you sighed as you leaned your cheek against your fist. “But also, as Dr. Cho mentioned, we can’t get too excited yet. Organic chemicals for us might not mean organic chemicals for an alien species.”

Younghoon nodded slowly. “Right,” he drawled. “That’s so interesting to think about… that we’re possibly not alone and that they could either be very similar to us or very different, or maybe even somewhere in between.”

“Isn’t it crazy?” You couldn’t count the amount of times you got lost in a rabbithole of research when you were supposed to be working on assignments instead. Your eyes darted down to the lower levels to check the population density, and garnered that you could still wait at least a couple minutes more. “Hey, you know, if you're interested in this stuff, then you should come to some of the planetarium’s presentation nights sometime.”

Your counterpart’s eyes widened like the lens of a telescope. “We have a planetarium?”

You giggled. “Yeah, silly. What did you think the astronomy tower was for?”

“We have an astronomy tower?”

You smiled wide against your knuckles as you nodded. “Maybe you should wander down by the engineering buildings more often.”

Younghoon made an incredulous face. “Maybe I should.” He considered something for a moment and you watched the smile blossom onto his face again. “Though, I have a feeling that if I looked into a telescope, I'd only see you—’cause you're a star.”

“That was awful,” you snorted into your hand, shaking your head.

“Not my best work,” he admitted. He could admit defeat when he was met by it, but he wouldn't let it hinder his efforts. “You know, I think Galileo was wrong.”

“How so?” You asked as you motioned for the two of you to start gathering your things.

“You're the center of my universe.”

You were pretty sure the lower levels could hear your laugh echo against the walls. “Oh my god.”

“Or maybe that just makes you the sun,” he said to you in a singsong tone while trailing after you.

“I’m walking home, Younghoon.”

“You can try, sunshine.”

EPISODE SIX: THE ONE WHERE IT GETS WORSE

MURPHY'S Law stated that “anything that can go wrong will go wrong,” with an adage of “at the worst possible time.” You needed to have words with this Murphy.

You were now in the thralls of midterm season. It was common knowledge and experience among STEM students that once midterm season began, it didn't stop until finals hit. You hadn't even realized how fast midterms had arrived until it was pouncing on you like a predator in the brush. You were currently being torn apart by the jaws of a hungry lion called Life.

“I haven't finished the grant app, Kkura.” You stared at the white wall behind your desk with a blank glaze over your eyeballs. There were sticky notes and pieces of paper tacked there with reminders and diagrams like they were makeshift whiteboards, but you weren't looking at them.

“My aerothermo exam is in two days,” you continued on in a droning voice, “and the internship interview is the day after.”

You spun around in your chair to face where Sakura was perched crisscrossed on your bed with a sympathetic frown. The internship addition was a new one. You had sent in your application a couple months ago, and results of applicants who had passed to the interview phase were only recently released. While you were relieved beyond measure that you made it, the interview couldn't have come at a worse time.

“Well,” she began, “we already decided that I'm going to help you prepare for the interview, Yn. The grant app isn't due for another month. All you need to worry about right now is the aerothermo exam, right?”

When she put it that way… “You're right,” you sighed and lifted your hands up to dig the heels of your palm into your eyes. Sometimes it just took an outside perspective to knock a little logic into you.

The Star Trek theme song blared from your phone, and you both startled at the abruptness. You fumbled for the device, then quickly picked up the phone call when you saw that it was from your mom. “Hi, mom. Everything okay?”

“Your brother can't make it to the wedding.”

You made a face. “I'm guessing you don't mean Quincey…”

You could imagine the exasperation on your mom's face from the other side of the phone. “Yn, I call you because you're the logical one in the family.”

If only she knew what pain you were putting yourself through because of your current lack of sense. You leaned back in your chair, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Why can't Justin make it?” Justin was your eldest brother who had the divine French toast recipe.

“He's flying to Paris for his culinary school interview. You know I always tell that boy to double check his schedules—he never listens,” your mom exhaled sharply. You could hear the loud clatter of the dryer in the background; she must be doing laundry.

“Sounds like Justin,” you murmured. “So what's the problem? Can't we just go sans Justin?”

“We already RSVP'd with the seven of us, and your cousin already paid for the reception meal in full. We can't have an empty, wasted seat, Yn-ah.”

You frowned. You supposed that would be a problem then. ���Why don't we just find someone to bring along as a plus-one?”

“That's what I was thinking,” she replied. “I was going to invite Rian, you know, the boy from next door.”

Somehow, your mood managed to sour further. You and Sakura made eye contact, and she tilted her head to the side in question. You gave her an emphatic thumb's down before replying to your mom, “Wait—can we—mom, can we not invite Rian?” You dragged your free hand down the side of your face, and you saw Sakura grimace when you said that guy's name.

“Why not?”

“Be… because,” you stammered, pushing out a sigh when you weren't sure how to describe your incredible disdain for your childhood next-door neighbor. He was your age, and fortunately, you were never matchmade with him. Unfortunately, he was a jerk with inferiority issues and delighted in competing with you in everything. “He wouldn't want to come with,” you said lamely. His presence would do the exact opposite of soothing your anxiety.

Sakura gestured with her hands. Tell her he's full of shit!

Oh, you wished.

“Yn.” Your mother could smell lies, even through the phone. “I wouldn't know who else to invite.”

“Daphne's partner!” You exclaimed desperately. Daphne was your older sister who attended another college on the other side of the city getting her master's degree. “Can't we invite Sam?”

“Sam's in Vietnam in December.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Yn.”

“Sorry.” Dear fuck, you were slipping. You needed a solution—anything at all. Something to put out one fire, even temporarily. “What if I came up with a plus one?” You regretted it immediately.

“Oh, like Sakura? I wouldn't mind if you brought her.”

Anyone but Rian, anyone but Rian. “Yeah,” you drawled. “That's who I had in mind.” You lifted your head to meet your friend's eyes again, and she knitted her brows in confusion. You mouthed that you would tell her in a moment.

When you and your mom hung up, you deflated in your chair, dropping your phone onto your chest. “I'm fucked.”

“Hit me with it.”

“I told her I would bring you to the wedding with us.”

Sakura sat there for a moment to process the information. “Yn, honey, I'm going to be in Japan in December.”

“I know,” you cried.

“Who are you bringing then?”

“I don't know.”

Murphy of Murphy's Law had better sleep with one eye open.

It was likely in your worst interest to be at the convenience store at midnight rather than in your bed asleep, attempting to let your brain process the concepts from your aerothermodynamics course. Against your better judgment, though, you were here, slumped over your usual table and seat as you watched YouTube and sipped on a box of chocolate milk.

In the distance, the door opened and closed, but the sound was muffled through your earbuds. Out of your peripherals, someone materialized next to you. You peered up at the tall man beside you now, blocking out the fluorescent LEDs from burning your eyes. “Hey,” you said quietly.

Younghoon took in your state with sad eyes. “I got your text.”

“I didn't think you'd be awake.” Didn't he have a rehearsal tomorrow morning? Or rather, later this morning.

“Well, I'm glad I was awake, for starters.” He frowned and then leaned over you to gently wrap you up in his arms. “Rough night?”

Your face was buried in the fabric of his hoodie. This was nice. “Rough everything.”

“Ah, one of those,” he sympathized. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. Thank you for coming though.” You leaned back and patted the empty seat next to you. “Wanna watch squirrels with me?”

You watched his expression falter and fill with surprised amusement with a pinch of confusion. “Did you—you just said squirrels, right?”

“Yeah, they're competing in a backyard Olympics for this trophy of walnuts.”

He sat down with you to watch the squirrels. In your free time, you liked watching engineering or science-type videos on the internet. Most of them were as educational as they were entertaining, like the backyard squirrel series, where this man used his mechanical engineering degree to build advanced obstacles to test and observe the vast capabilities of the squirrel.

You shared your earbud with Younghoon so he could listen, and you were now connected by a wire. He mimicked your position, too, with his chin nestled onto his folded arms over the tabletop.

You weren't sure what possessed him to drive all the way over here at such an ungodly hour of night, but you were grateful for his company, nonetheless. Even if it felt like the sky was falling, you could let this moment in time exist outside the conventional timeline. It could be its own singular moment, just you and Younghoon.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how it all came back to this. You'd never thought you were meant to see him again after tutoring him, let alone having spent so much time with him again these past few weeks. If you didn't belong in his world, and vice versa, then what was this?

You swore the monotonous buzzing from the lights above was making your eyelids slowly fall with the weight of lead.

Younghoon's eyes fluttered over to you just as you were about to doze off. He sat up and turned the video off. “Hey,” he whispered, gently shaking your arm.

You hummed, the bags under your eyes becoming worse by the second. “Huh?”

He chuckled under his breath as you put your head back down. “We can watch this another day,” he promised, patting your head. “We should get you home though so you can sleep.”

“Oh my gosh,” you groaned and picked yourself up, “you have rehearsal tomorrow morning—what time is it?”

“Hey, don't worry about it, love.” He was wrapping your earbud wire around his fingers into a neat, little bundle. “I'll be fine. Let's go home, though, yeah?”

You pressed your palms to your eyes in a desperate attempt to rehydrate them. “Okay, yeah. Sorry, Hoon.”

“Don't say sorry,” he cooed, pressing your earbuds into the palm of your hand and tucking your phone into your pocket. “I felt a lot better meeting you here. Do you feel a little better?”

You gave a small nod. Your brain was too muddled, too exhausted, to really comprehend what was being expressed as plain as the sun at high noon on his face.

“Then that's all that matters.” There was a pause. Your vision was blurry for the second that his eyes wandered somewhere else. You didn't know if you just didn't see it or if you just chose to not acknowledge it.

Then the moment passed, as all things did in the flow of nature, and he walked you home.

EPISODE SEVEN: PARTY PEOPLE (BBANGNYU'S VERSION)

“CHANHEE?”

Choi Chanhee swirled the straw of his melted iced americano around in its cup. “Yup.”

“Who would you invite to a wedding?” You posed, twirling around the mechanical pencil in your hand between your fingers. You didn't even know why you still had the writing utensil out—everyone had pretty much gone home for the evening.

He released a sigh indicative of a very tired data science major, who doubled-majored in math. “The person I'm marrying? I dunno.”

You and Chanhee were stuck with the late shift at the math tutoring center on a Monday night. The crowd usually cleared out by nine o'clock, but the two of you weren't technically allowed to leave until nine-thirty. Most nights when you were stuck with this shift, you and he didn't mind the quiet in order to finish assignments of your own.

Jungwoo would have been here to suffer with you, too, but he had an excuse tonight. Something about an emergency at the NCT fraternity house.

You blew a puff of air through your mouth. “Not your wedding; just a wedding. One that you're invited to.”

“You're not inviting me, are you?”

“You don't wanna be my plus one for a wedding?” You grinned.

“Depends…” He hummed pleasantly, “what're they serving?” That was a valid question that you lacked an answer to.

In front of you on your laptop screen sat your incomplete space grant application. After the hell that was last week, you somehow survived it by the seat of your pants. Now, you needed to focus on your two other exams for this week, the wedding debacle, this grant app, and praying that the interview had gone as well as you thought it had.

So many things to think about, so little brain cells.

You glanced over at the corner of your laptop screen to see how much time you had left to try and be productive. From the corner of your eye, you saw the swift movements of Chanhee's thumbs flying over his phone keyboard.

You turned to your application to read over your responses for the ten thousandth time. “Who've you been texting all night, Chanhee?”

“Huh? Oh, my best friend.”

You hummed. “The one that goes to the uni across the country, right?”

His response was cut off by the sound of the tutoring center doors opening. Both of you looked up in tandem, mentally bracing yourselves for—

“Younghoon?”

There was a weird fluttery feeling in your chest as he beamed at the both of you and bounded over from the front doors. “Hey guys! I was just walking past and thought I would swing by.”

Chanhee's eyebrows flew all the way up to his pink hairline. “Yes, because it makes complete sense why you would be meandering around south campus at nine o'clock at night,” he quipped.

Younghoon seemed, to his credit, unbothered by Chanhee pointing out the obvious. He stole one of the chairs from another table and sat down across from you and Chanhee. “You guys don't play any music when everyone's gone?”

“Sometimes we do,” you replied, glancing up from your computer screen before replacing your word choice somewhere.

Chanhee nodded his agreement as he set his phone down on the table and laced his fingers under his chin. “Oh, Younghoon-ah, I've been meaning to discuss something with you.”

Younghoon perked up. “What's up?”

“What're we gonna do about your friend and my friend?”

You figured out pretty quickly that you had no idea what they were talking about. Even after having played Monopoly with some of them a few weeks ago, it still hadn't hit you as to the full-scale of these two guys’ shared social circles. Sure, you orbited some friend groups of a decent size, but it felt like they all hung out with each other at least once a week.

“Ah,” Younghoon drawled with a knowing sparkle in his eyes, “Jacob and JC!Yn, right? I don't know; I find it kind of amusing.”

Chanhee frowned. A furrow had formed between his brows. “If amusing means to the extent where I'd like to rip my hair out, that is. Did you know that Jacob sent me to go intervene when Jaehyun was talking to JC!Yn at the hot tub?”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm.” Chanhee made a vague flourish with his wrist in the air. “And did you see how they were at the movie night on Saturday?”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “I did see that. He kept looking over when Juyeon was braiding her hair,” he chuckled.

“I am at odds, Younghoon-ah!” Chanhee groaned into his palms. “I just need them to kiss already and get it over with.”

“So you wanna meddle?”

“I'm not saying we should meddle, but…” He drawled with cheeky, puckered lips and his palms open upward. His gaze went to you on his right side, and he knocked the back of his knuckles against your arm. “Oy, Yn-ah. What do you think?”

You hummed and drew your eyes up from your laptop screen, meeting Younghoon's gaze first. Glancing over to the friend who addressed you, you said, “What are we talking about?”

“Girl, you need to get off that grant app.”

“This grant app needs to get off me,” you shot back. “I need it to be perfect, Chanhee.”

“Nothing is perfect, Yn,” he told you. “You know what you should do? You should ask JC!Yn to look over it. That might ease your mind.”

“I'll think about it,” you said at last in order to appease him. The smart thing would've been to heed his advice and ask his friend to proofread it. Perhaps you would later this week.

“Good. Anyways, I was asking you what you thought about how to matchmake our two friends,” resumed Chanhee. He tucked his limbs inward as he spun around in his chair.

“You’re going to have to give me more context than that.” Besides that, were you really the best option to ask for advice? You weren't in a relationship, and now that you thought about it, neither were the two of them.

You saw Chanhee and Younghoon exchange glances and there seemed to be a silent conversation taking place between the two of them. At last, Younghoon gave his counterpart a flourishing gesture with his hand as if saying 'all yours.’ Chanhee cleared his throat. “So Younghoon's friend Kevin, who is Jacob's best friend, introduced JC!Yn to Jacob.”

“And we're pretty sure they like each other,” Younghoon added on. “There was this pool party a couple weekends ago, and they came to the party together. This past weekend, they looked pretty cozy at the movie night that Jacob and Kevin hosted at their apartment, too.”

You had only ever met JC!Yn once in passing, and it was because Chanhee forgot his calculator at the library right before an exam, and she had been the champion to deliver it to him in the examination hall lobby. She was a real one, that was for sure.

You pursed your lips and rested your chin on your fist. “Aren't all of you guys single?” Was what you led with.

Chanhee deadpanned. “That's not the point…”

“I do have to point that out though because you ask me like I would know what to do,” you laughed, vaguely gesturing back to yourself. “I'm just as single as the rest of you.”

The two boys’ eyes whipped back to one another for a millisecond, before looking away.

You nearly leapt to your feet, exclaiming, “I saw that! What was that?”

“Nothing,” they answered at once. They did realize it made them look all the more conspicuous, right?

“We just realized that not all of us are single,” Younghoon raced to smooth over his and Chanhee's fib. “My friend Sangyeon—”

Chanhee snorted, “Hyunjae told me he doesn't believe him.”

“And you believe Hyunjae?”

“Touché.”

You unconsciously began spinning your pencil around your fingers again. “Wait, so Sangyeon is cuffed?”

Younghoon turned to you to explain. Apparently, his original group of friends that didn't include Chanhee's extension, kept a running joke that Sangyeon was either making up his girlfriend or was keeping her stashed on a secret island in the Bahamas. None of them had seen any evidence that she truly existed, but Younghoon wasn't convinced that Sangyeon was the type of person to go through all of this strife just to prove a point.

After all of that, you were more confused than before. “But why wouldn't he just show you a picture of her and prove that he met this girl?”

“That's what I'm saying,” Chanhee interjected, flinging his arms up in the air. “It would be so easy to just silence us with a little picture!”

Younghoon, clearly amused by the discourse taking place, leaned back in his chair with a shrug. “Beats me. I personally think it's because she works for a secret government agency, which is why she can't exist online.”

Chanhee's expression flattened. “Uh-huh.”

“But Juyeon says that it's probably because if he only shows a picture, we might accuse him of Photoshop,” Younghoon continued. “Which, in retrospect, says a lot about his faith in us.”

You made a face, your eyebrows arching high. “Oh, for sure.”

Debating on conspiracy theories about mystery girlfriends made the last thirty minutes of yours and Chanhee's shift fly by fast. Suffice to say, you hadn’t worked on your application nearly as much as you wanted to, but you were entertained for thirty minutes, which was just as well. Didn’t doctors say that it was good to laugh at least three times a day…? Good thing you weren’t going into medicine.

The three of you started packing everything up at exactly nine-thirty. There was no reason to stay any longer when there was literally no one else here anyway.

As you shoved your laptop into your backpack, Younghoon knocked on the table in front of you. “Wanna grab dinner after this?”

You opened your mouth to reply when Chanhee beat you to it. He hadn’t seen Younghoon grab your attention, and didn’t know who he was addressing. “Oh, that’s nice of you to as—”

“I meant Yn.”

You closed your eyes and sank your teeth into your bottom lip to have some dignity left (read: not start wheezing). Chanhee’s eyes had gone wide, eyebrows rocketing back up to his hairline. He scoffed, “Wow.”

Younghoon grinned cheekily. “Sorry, Chanhee. We have a routine.”

With Chanhee now thoroughly offended, your little trio filed out of the tutoring center. You locked the doors up behind you once you flicked off all the lights in the room. The walk down in south campus was arguably nicer than north campus, even if you were a little biased because this was where you considered your “turf” to be. South campus was much better illuminated than north campus with pretty, little lamp posts and five different styles of architecture from building to building. You were sure it was an eyesore to any of the architecture majors here, but they were interesting to look at when you were suffering in the engineering library. (And at least they had windows.)

You took up the position in between Younghoon and Chanhee, the latter of whom seemed to let his pettiness about the rejected dinner date go.

“Guys,” Younghoon suddenly said. The corner of his lips were turned upward in a degree you could only define as mischievous. “What is the most terrifying word in physics?”

You scrunched your brows together. There was no way you should get this wrong, but then again, physics wasn't exactly a subject where anyone got everything right—

“Oops.”

You snorted, and beside you, Chanhee's lip wobbled as he desperately held in a reaction. You couldn't believe you didn't see this coming and tried to think about it logically.

Younghoon shoved his hands in his pockets and swiped his tongue over his lower lip through a smile. “Aw, come on! I cracked up when I heard that one in a TikTok for the first time.”

“I've just heard some of your better ones,” you confessed. “Chanhee, did I tell you that Younghoon used to wax poetic to study for calc?”

Chanhee's mouth curled up into an amused little smile. “You did! I think it's cute.”

“You know, I think it's cute, too.”

In the dim lighting from the nearby lamp posts, Younghoon's cheekbones flushed something rosy. “You flatter me.”

As the three of you climbed up the stairs that would bring you to main campus, Chanhee piped up, “What if we just slipped Jacob and JC!Yn notes from the other person?”

You shook your head. “Not this again.”

“I'm serious!” He said in earnest. “It would just be innocent, little pick-up lines or something. Nothing like a whole ass confession.”

“We're reading Much Ado About Nothing in my Shakespeare lecture right now,” said Younghoon, “and the cast does something similar to one of the couples they're trying to get together. Sounds kind of fun, to be honest.”

“Not you, too!”

Younghoon slung an arm around your shoulders and flourished his free arm out toward the heavens. There was a pleasant feeling attached to the weight of his arm around you. “C’mon, use that mastermind brain of yours and imagine! Jacob's would just say something like—I dunno—if I whispered in thine ear that thou hast a body of beauty, wouldst thou hold it against me?”

“Wow,” you marveled, ignoring the amount of fluttering happening in your stomach, “that was pretty good.”

He flashed you a boyish smile. “Thank you.”

“But you're not doing it.”

The boys on either side of you released twin groans of anguish into the night, as if their mother had just denied them access to their Xbox for the evening. You rolled your eyes lightly. “I feel like relationships are like spontaneous processes—they’ll get to the right configuration eventually, organically. In other words, we should leave them be and let them figure it out for themselves.” You walked in front and turned around to face them so you could pin them both down with a firm look.

Younghoon raised his arms up in playful surrender. “Promise we won't meddle.”

“I hate when you use entropy statistics against me.” Chanhee gave a reluctant nod, sighing once again, “But I agree. We won’t meddle.”

EPISODE EIGHT: DON'T ASK ME THE COLOR OF ANYTHING

IT was the Star Trek theme song that blasted you out of your study bubble. In retrospect, the theme song was quite a subdued piece compared to something like the Star Wars theme, but for some reason you thought it was a good idea to turn the volume all the way up for your ringer whenever you were home. (God forbid you accidentally left it on when you were in class…) From your desk, you scooted over to grab your phone from where it was on your bed. Younghoon's caller ID beamed its cute smile up at you—the picture you'd set was of him and his dog from home, Bori. You had yet to meet Bori, but when you asked him for a picture for his contact photo, he sent this one.

You accepted the call. “Hello?”

“I just realized I pressed Call instead of Facetime. Please accept the Facetime thingy.”

Why did he sound so cute? You lifted the phone away from your ear and saw the request on the screen. While pressing the green accept button, you said to him, “What if I said no?”

“Then it must be Opposite Day,” he sang from the other side of the screen, his face manifesting before you. He was holding his phone up above him so you could see he was lying down in bed, his dark hair strewn over the pillow beneath his head. His initial smile widened to reach his eyes when your side of the screen loaded and he could see you. “There she is.”

“Hi Hoon,” you greeted with a small chuckle. You looked around your cluttered workspace for a place to prop your phone up against.

“What're you up to?” He asked while he adjusted himself to sit up against his headboard.

“I—” you made a sound of accomplishment as your phone stayed upright in the space between your desk lamp and a pebble paperweight painted like a rocket that your little sister made you, “—am brushing up on fluid mechanics.”

“Aah… fluid mechanics.” You could hear the slight intonation in his words.

“Don't say the joke.”

“I wasn't gonna say the joke!” He giggled. When he calmed, he pressed his mouth in a smile and made his cheeks look as squishy as a loaf of bread. “Is this a bad time though?”

You shook your head, slipping your pencil behind your ear so you could lace your fingers beneath your chin. “No, it’s not a bad time. This isn’t super important; I just didn’t want old material to jumpscare me when I go into our quiz this week.”

Younghoon nodded in understanding. “I see, I see. That means it’s good that I interrupted your workaholic tendencies.”

You glanced away with your hand half covering your face, and it coaxed a laugh from him that seemed to warm the room. You sputtered, “In my defense—” you paused, your lips parted; it hit you then that you had no defense.

His eyes were the shapes of upturned crescent moons, like shallow bowls filled with mirth. “It’s cute when you try to deny it.”

“It’s not denial—I didn’t deny it,” you pointed out.

“Uh-huh,” he snorted, completely unconvinced, “whatever you say, Miss Mastermind. I should call you Miss Workaholic instead.”

“Aish,” you chided weakly. You glanced down at the old notes that were splayed out before you on your desk. All of the concepts were relatively familiar to you; it was just to refresh yourself. To be frank, though, it wasn’t like you’d spent all evening reviewing old material. Every thirty minutes or so, you could spend another half hour on your phone, getting lost in the entertainment there. You weren’t that much of a workaholic.

You realized that there had been a pregnant moment of silence just then, and when you looked back over at the phone screen, found him watching you with a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You cleared your throat, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear and to take the pencil there down. “So, uhm, any reason in particular for calling?”

His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, as if snapping out of a daze. “Hm? Oh, not really. I just wanted to see what you were up to.” He cocked his head to the side in thought. “Random question, but are you doing anything for Halloween?”

Ah, you nearly forgot that was coming up. With all of the chaos happening in your life at the moment, Halloween was the last thing on your mind.

“Not at the moment,” you told him. You mused, “I don’t think I’ve done anything proper for Halloween since I moved out of my childhood house.” Going Trick-or-Treating as an adolescent was definitely a core memory for you, and was still a prevalent tradition in your household because of the little ones, Sadie and Quincey. As you got older, however, you usually opted to stay at home and answer the door to hand out candy. You still dressed up for the fun of it, and decorating the house was always half the joy of the holiday. You always considered trying to build some kind of candy contraption or maybe setting up a haunted maze in the front lawn, but alas, maybe in the future. “What about you?”

“Well, there’s that party that Changmin and Chanhee are hosting at their place.”

That rang a bell. “Ohh, shit. I totally forgot about that.” Chanhee had mentioned something about that the other night at the tutoring center, but you didn’t make any promises about attending—he knew your crowd preferences, so he didn’t push it. You were sure his and his friend’s parties were a blast though.

Younghoon shifted his lounging position, so now he was laying on his stomach with his legs kicking up from behind him. “Would you wanna come with? I remember that you went to that party with Sakura in September, but I wasn’t sure if you were going to come to this one.”

You tapped the end of your pencil against the pages of your notebook. “I’m not really sure,” you confessed. “I think I originally didn’t plan on going.”

“Ah.”

Guilt swirled around in the pit of your stomach at the disappointment in his voice. “I’m sorry; I probably sound like such a party pooper.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he rushed to assure you. “I get that it might not be something you’re into, and that’s completely fine, you know? I think it would be fun to go with you, but not if you wouldn’t have fun there.”

You inhaled deeply. “I mean… it’s not that I don’t think I would have fun once I—y’know, drank something—but yeah, I think a night of just horror movies or something will do me better.”

He nodded and carded a hand through his hair. “Of course; I understand. And your schedule’s been pretty packed lately, so it’ll be like a little break for you,” he offered.

“Yeah, thanks, Hoon.” You shot him a small smile. It was really cool that he was being so understanding, but you shouldn’t have anticipated anything less from Kim Younghoon. He’d always been this cool.

You learned to read the room, and the energy definitely was lower than before. “Do you know what you’re gonna go dressed as?” You asked in hopes of bringing that energy back up.

He perked up a bit at the question. “I—actually, I have no idea,” he chuckled. “I was thinking a vampire, but I feel like that should just be saved as my backup. That idea’s a little tired.”

Younghoon as a vampire—? Wake up, Yn. You laughed to yourself as a thought popped into your head. “It would be so funny if you showed up as Bill Nye the Science Guy.”

He snorted. “That's not a bad idea. I'm not a science guy, but I am an actor.”

“Hey, there you go,” you said. You pursed your lips. “Hm… I feel like your face is too pretty to fuck up—”

“Thanks?” He guffawed, hand propping his head up. “I'm scared to ask you what that even means.” You didn’t want to tell him exactly what you had in mind, but it seemed that he beat you to a punchline. “To be honest, I'd so let you fuck up my face.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hyunjae? Hyunjae, is that you?” Younghoon called out behind him toward his closed bedroom door. His ears were rosy as blood, and he was biting his lip through a grin. “I've gotta go, Yn-ie. Byeee!”

“Younghoon, hey! Don't hang—”

He hung up. You took a moment to collect yourself after what he said, as if you could even begin to unpack its meaning.

You could hear the partygoers even from the relative serenity of the back corner of the convenience store. It was Halloween night, and when the sun sank down into the horizon to signal the coming of night, so too did it mark the beginning of the Hallow's Eve festivities.

You had just dropped Sakura off at one of her friends’ house for a party, and she would text you later when she was done. The plan tonight was originally to chill at home and watch scary movies, but you instead found yourself at your second home with your laptop playing The Nightmare Before Christmas. On your head sat a deep purple colored witch's hat on a headband, with glittery black tulle creating a skirt at its base. Even if you didn't dress up completely, you would still pop on a bit of holiday spirit.

With you was a 6-pack of Halloween themed mini cupcakes and a carton of strawberry milk. They would function as your popcorn for the movie and your candy for the night.

From beside you on the table, your phone buzzed. You could see the words diffuse rapidly onto your screen, your eyes snagging on the parts where your older sister was asking about Sakura coming to the wedding even though she was supposed to be in Japan. Your eyes widened as you scrambled to text back. Fuck, the wedding. You texted back a very fast, ‘uhm abt that.’

daphne: ykw don't tell me anything ignorance is bliss daphne: okay what i came here to do originally… daphne: *sent images* your phone: awwwh how cute!! wait wtf since when was quincey into power rangers 😭😭 daphne: dear god don't get me started

You laughed and sent her a final text back commenting about the pictures she sent of her, Sam, Sadie, and Quincey all dressed up to go Trick-or-Treating tonight. As usual, your family extended an invitation to you, but you declined for this year.

“Damn, I should've dressed up like the power rangers.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice right by your ear, and you ripped your earbud out, whipping around to see who it was. There was Younghoon, laughing at your expense with a very amused smile flitting over his face from your reaction.

About five different emotions passed over you at once, preventing you from coming up with an adequate response to his sudden appearance. Your mouth, frankly, had gone dry. His hair was colored and highlighted with strands of platinum silver, artfully arranged around a pair of black sunglasses atop his head. He was clad in all black—the leather jacket seated on his shoulders embellished with white detailing, and his skin glimmering with silver chains. He had on a pair of motorcycle gloves that he was now shucking off, and you realized his lips were a shade darker than they usually were—wait… were they moving?

“—Yn. Yn-iee—”

You blinked long and hard. “Yeah. I'm here.”

The corner of his lips curled upward. “I just said I was sorry for sneaking up on you.”

“Oh.” Wait, he smelled so good right now… Not that he didn't smell good every other day, but…

“Oh,” he parroted with a cock of his eyebrow. “So, what do you think?” He asked the question you didn't even realize you would fear him to ask, and gestured down to the outfit. Younghoon sighed and it sounded half like a laugh. “I feel ridiculous actually. Hyunjae was like—you should do the biker thing with me. And I was like, what do you mean 'biker thing?’ Apparently this is the biker thing.”

You were slapping yourself across the face internally to say something. “You went from Prius driver to motorcycle rider.”

Younghoon nearly keeled over and had to turn to the side to laugh. “I still am a Prius driver,” he said sheepishly.

Your eyes flickered up and down his form again, unable to string together words once more. “Uhm, your hair is silver.”

“Excellent observation.” He reached over and poked the little witch hat on top of your head. “This is cute, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile, reaching up to touch either side of the headband. “I'm just here waiting for Kkura.”

“Oh, are you guys watching something together?”

You shook your head and turned back to your computer screen to wake it up. “No, I volunteered to be her chauffeur tonight. She's at a party right now, but I figured since I had time to kill, I could chill here.”

“It feels like a crime for you to be here all alone,” he said with one of his hands braced against the back of your chair and the other on the table next to your laptop. He was leaning over you now to peer at your screen because the brightness of the store lights made it difficult to see from where he stood, but it made him all the more apparent to your senses.

Goddamn, he was everywhere. “Well, I should be asking you as to why you're here,” you said with a cough. “Don't you have a party to go to, Biker Boy?”

He chuckled at the nickname and stood back up. “I do, but Chanhee and Changmin forgot to get triple A batteries for their battery-operated creepy candy bowl,” he said. “But I'm glad I was sent out to run an errand now.”

You shifted your mouth to the side in a sorry attempt to hide your contentment with that answer. “I'm glad, too. You—the costume looks good, by the way.”

Younghoon sat down in his usual seat across from you. “Thank you,” he replied, pleased. “I almost went out as a loaf of bread. Did you know Party City has these bread loaf costumes that you can wear around your head?”

“I'm not surprised at all,” you said, shaking your head in amusement.

You found yourself unhappy with the idea of Younghoon leaving after this. Once your conversation was over, you would go back to your movie and he would go back to his party. Before, you didn't mind the idea of having an evening to yourself, but with him right here in front of you, it was difficult to go back.

Him being here with you felt right. You couldn't explain why you felt that way. He looked like he was about to say something, and you rushed to beat him to it. “Want a cupcake?” You blurted. Before you could go back on your words, you gently pried a miniature cupcake out from its containment and offered it to him.

Younghoon lit up, delicately transferring the treat to his own hands. “I wasn't going to ask, but don't mind if I do. Thanks, Yn.”

You hummed happily as he peeled off the cupcake wrapper and took a generous bite. He did a little happy dance in his seat, and you smiled half into your fist as you leaned part of your cheek onto it.

“That's actually so good,” he said with wide, confused eyes as he reached toward the furthest end of the table for a napkin in the aluminum canister. “Why haven't I tried those before? I think I'm gonna have to take some back.”

“I don't have them often, but they are quite the guilty pleasure,” you agreed. “I would totally sponsor a couple packs for you to take to the party.”

Younghoon made a nodding motion with his head as he dabbed the napkin over his lips. He pulled the napkin away to inspect it, frowning. “Shit, I need to reapply,” he murmured and fished around in his jacket pocket for a tube of the shade that he had wiped off his lips.

Some force from the universe compelled you to do something fucking stupid. “I can help.” No, you can't! Why would you say that, why would you say—

Surprise flickered across his face. “Oh? Sure, I'd appreciate it,” he said, and held the lip gloss out to you. It was a muted brown-ish pink color that would leave a stain of itself upon the wearer's lips, but also had an initial glossy appearance.

With no room for backpedaling, you stood up and took the lip product from him. You stood before him now, between his legs with his hands resting on his knees.

He peered up at you through his dark lashes, lips parted gently.

You wiped the excess product off the doe foot applicator against the rim of the packaging, and then smeared the product over his bottom lip. You took your finger to smudge the color around, making quick work with a second layer for shine. When you were done, you hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath the whole time. You passed the lip product back to him quietly. “All done,” you whispered.

He didn't even look at your handiwork—he didn't need to. He smiled; you thought you saw him steal a glance at some place other than your eyes. “Thanks, love.”

You were right before when you thought you would dread him leaving. He did go, at some point, after retrieving what he had come here for along with at least three half-dozen containers of cupcakes. He sent you a wave from the door, and then he was gone into the night.

You sat there without doing much or thinking anything for a moment or two, your fingertips stained with the color of his lips.

Regret wormed a hole through your stomach, and it felt like it was gaping wide open. Maybe you should've gone to the party, or maybe you should have asked him to stay. Maybe you should have said something different, and maybe… maybe you should have…

Kissed him?

Your eyes stared unblinkingly at the seat across the table from you, and you arrived at a truth you could no longer ignore.

your phone: how do u know u like a guy

kkuramon &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.

You didn't see Younghoon for at least another week. Once Halloween had gone and passed, November hit everyone in one big fell swoop. Midterms the Sequel was abound, and it did not choose mercy. But amongst the abundance of fires cropping up, you managed to spray some water on a couple to keep the flames tame. (Do not do this to real fires; it won't help.)

It was the middle of the week when you and Younghoon agreed to meet back at the convenience store to hang out. Over the past few days, you kept your interactions with him over text and call as normal as possible, even though you felt like your newly realized feelings were glaringly obvious. If Younghoon thought you were being awkward though, he didn't say.

You and Sakura were in the kitchen right before you were about to take off to head to the convenience store. She was busy making a late lunch (read: dinner); you were busy worrying about everything.

“I've got an idea,” she said, raising the spatula in her hand into the air. “You should bring Younghoon to the wedding.”

You nearly choked on air. “I'm sorry? Say that again.”

With her back turned to you, she gave an emphasized shrug. “If you insist. I was suggesting that you bring Younghoon to the wedding instead of me. It would be killing two birds with one stone.”

“How in the world is that killing two birds with one stone?”

“Well, when you inevitably confess your feelings to him, and he confesses that he reciprocates, you will then have a date for the wedding.” She turned the stove off before twirling around on her slippered-heel, a proud smile on her face. “Ta-da!”

“I just think that if—and big emphasis on if—we do end up together, a wedding would be a lot as an outing.” You imagined how horrific and intimidating that would be, meeting your entire family and extended family after only just deciding to try out dating someone. Even thinking about it sounded overwhelming beyond means, and you couldn't do that to Younghoon.

She angled her head to the side. “But this is Younghoon we're talking about. He literally went to the Space Gala with you on short notice and made you feel safe and comfortable the whole time.”

You sent her a pointed look. “That's not the same thing and you know it.”

She sighed. “Alright. Then what about driving over to meet you at the convenience store at midnight when he had an early rehearsal the next day? He calls you and texts you day and night; he drops by the tutoring center on your shifts to keep you company… I don't know what else you need to convince you.”

You didn't like the spark of hope she was lighting up in your chest. You didn't want to lose a good friend if you were reading him wrong. Was he not charismatic to everyone he met though?

At some point, you got your ass up and down the street. There was a soft tune playing in the background as you wandered through the aisles in search of something to distract you from the anxious racing of your heartbeat. Younghoon had sent you a heads up about an hour ago that he was going to be late because he was coming from an outing, so you had a little more time to mentally prepare. Maybe you would chalk up the courage to tell him. Maybe you really could do it. If you just ripped off the bandaid, whether it be for better or for worse, you could at least say you tried.

You made up your mind then, somewhere in the bread aisle between the wheat and rye.

By the time Younghoon arrived, out of breath and grinning from ear to ear, you managed to hype yourself up to tell him.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said between breaths as he claimed the seat across from you. He paused, sniffing, then grimacing. “And also for the fact that I reek of barbeque.”

“Don't worry about it,” you assured him, teasingly, “the only thing you should be sorry about is not inviting me.”

Younghoon laughed. “You're very right, as always. My friends and I were having an emergency meeting about Jacob and JC!Yn.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh? Any updates?”

He groaned then, burying his face into the palms of his hands. Uh oh. “They almost kissed until Eric interrupted them.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yes!” He wailed in agony, eyes screwed closed with imaginary tears running down his cheeks. “It was painful to hear but it was also painful watching those two idiots interact at the table. My friends and I, minus JC!Yn and Jacob—we met a little beforehand to talk about what went down when Eric interrupted, and the lovebirds just came in later.” Younghoon huffed a rough sigh from his lips, partnered with a shake of his head. Then he broke into a smile, the corners of the expression soft, as he looked at you from across the table. He rested his cheek against his hand, chin inclining toward you, “So what's going on with you, hm? I feel like we haven't seen each other in ages.”

“We did call on Tuesday,” you pointed out.

He wrinkled his nose with a frown and shrugged. “It's not the same. I missed you.”

Your heart was beating so loud that you could count them out—thump, thump, thump— “I—missed you, too,” you said in earnest. Tell him, Yn. Tell him.

“You know, I think it's funny how we lost touch for so long, but we eventually came back together,” he murmured as he absentmindedly traced out shapes along the table top. “I guess if it's meant to be, then it'll be.”

The way he worded it… you were spinning yourselves in circles in your head trying to define it, to crack it open and solve it like you could a word problem. If the rotator wheel spins at a velocity of—but at this point, you were certain that you could figure out one of those much faster than this. “Yeah,” you agreed quietly.

“Something on your mind, Yn?” He asked you then. His eyes returned to you and you were suddenly stuck. The earth stopped spinning for this single moment in time, all because of the way this man looked at you.

You swallowed. “I…” The words dissipated in your throat. You couldn't do it.

Younghoon waited patiently, though. He considered you and your wide eyes filled with something he didn't know how to label, and maybe a dash of another thing he hoped to find. “Why don't we take a walk?”

With no reason to refuse, you stood up from your seat with him. He smiled at you as he brushed his hand over your back to guide you to the door, then retracted it to tuck his hand into his pocket.

November had so far shown the city a brisk, deep autumn. The trees were already close to completely shedding their leaves for the oncoming winter, and they were often swept away by a cool draft. You zipped up your jacket as the two of you began walking in the direction opposite to your apartment. Whichever way the wind took you both, you supposed.

For the first time in a long time, you and Younghoon were quiet. You were trapped in your own head with the courage you had earlier having mysteriously disappeared. He seemed content enough to let you ponder on it and to speak whenever you were ready.

“My cousin is getting married,” you found yourself saying.

That didn't seem to be the thing he expected to come from your mouth. Surprise flashed across his features and he clambered for a response. “Oh, well, congratulations. When's the wedding?”

“Thanks.” You said, “It’s in December. I… you know I have a big family.”

“Right.” His gaze softened considerably. “I imagine it must be a lot for you then—a family event of that size.”

You realized that you didn't convey exactly what you wanted to get across, and yet, you were reminded again how much he cared. “Yeah,” you murmured. “My brother Justin isn't gonna be able to make it after we already RSVP'd under my immediate family of seven people, and so my mom and I are trying to find someone to fill that space. She wanted to invite this one guy—he was my next-door neighbor for some time. Not my favorite person in the world because he's kind of got it out for me,” you said next.

You were rounding the corner again to loop back down the street toward your apartment. The organ in your chest was flying against your ribcage now; there wasn't much time left to tell him. You could see the metaphorical sand in the glass draining.

“So you're not going to invite this guy then, right?”

You nodded. “And I offered up Sakura just to appease her for the time being, but Sakura's gonna be in Japan in December.”

Younghoon trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. “I see.”

“That's my… that's my dilemma.” No, that isn't your only dilemma, Yn! Tell him! But the apartment was coming up in view, and you would be at the entrance in just a few more minutes.

You and Younghoon slowed your pace as you rounded the block again to cross the street. When you glanced over at him, you swore you could see the conflict warring across his face. If he saw gears turn in your head, you could see a battle scene in his eyes.

“Is this all that's been bothering you?” He asked at last, and you didn't know what to do about the slight intonation in his voice, like he was hoping for something. “I'm not invalidating your stress or anything, I was just—you know, if you had anything else you needed to get off your chest—”

“No, it's just that.” You could practically hear Sakura clucking like a chicken from wherever she was. You quickly added as the apartment door came into view, “It's—it’s not a big deal—finding a plus one, I mean. I'll figure it out.”

Plus one. He'd been your plus one to the Space Gala, but this was different. This was so much more different than that.

But maybe your words sounded like a dismissal or he was thrown off today. He cupped the back of his neck with a small nod. “Okay. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Hoon.”

He smiled then, the same soft-cornered one that reached his eyes, and that you'd come to be familiar with. You couldn't imagine seeing that face reject your feelings even if you knew he would probably let you down easily.

EPISODE TEN: YOU SPELL PARALLELISM WITH THREE L'S BECAUSE THERE ARE THREE LOSERS

THE engineering library at nine o'clock at night was a familiar environment for you, Chanhee, and Jungwoo. Dead week—the week before finals—meant that it saw the three of you twice as much, even on the weekend before Dead week began. It didn't mean you got studying done though. Sometimes you were just there.

“You guys are so fake! How could I not be updated on every single microevent in your lives?” Jungwoo cried, gesticulating his hands around far too fast for your brain to comprehend. He was about three shots of espresso and five hours in, if that explained things. You were all aware that your habits were not healthy, but no college kid was. “And you call me your friend?”

The thing that had triggered this reaction from Jungwoo had been Chanhee's fault. Or maybe that was your fault. Either way, the topic somehow had gone from calculating your respective grades with probable curves (calculating failure, at this rate) to you and Younghoon.

You liked to argue there was no you and Younghoon—it was just you-comma-Younghoon. Chanhee had sassed back at you with a swift, “Oh, so she's an English major now?” As if English majors were the only ones who could understand grammar and punctuation.

Jungwoo, having had no context given whatsoever, realized quickly that he was out of the loop. Now, you were here.

“I demand the tea!” He screeched, hitting the palm of his hand against the table. Thank god there was no one else here to listen in or shush you and your friends. If there was one thing about the engineering library, it was how out of the way it was from the main campus.

“I really don't think you should have anything else caffeinated—”

Jungwoo's head whipped toward you and his nostrils were flared. “You must think you're so funny,” he said with narrowed eyes and a saccharine smile. You would have been scared had you not seen this man once blow a massive snot bubble all over his differential calculus homework. (If anyone found out about that, it most definitely didn’t come from your lips…)

Your eyes shuddered, an innocent smile coming to your lips. “I was just saying.”

“Shuuush!” He stopped, thought about it, then retracted. “Actually, don't shush. Tell me what you and Chanhee know, but I don't.”

Chanhee snorted from his side of the table. “That's a long list.”

Jungwoo cut a glare toward Chanhee. “I despise you both,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but all jokes aside,” Chanhee said as he tucked his tablet stylus behind his ear. He cocked a high-arched brow your way. “What is going on, Yn? Do update us. Or for Jungwoo’s sake, start from the beginning.”

Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. You hadn’t expected Chanhee to turn on you, too, but perhaps you should have seen this coming. A generous amount of time had passed since you last failed to confess your feelings to one Kim Younghoon. Between that day and today, you had managed to finally submit your space grant application and passed your second round of midterms by the seat of your pants (hip, hip, hooray). Since that day, you and Younghoon would continue to interact as normal, except for the fact that you were practically walking on eggshells around him.

Just the other day, you both fell asleep while on-call with each other. When you’d woken up the morning afterward, you discovered that, one, it was a good thing you plugged your phone into its charging cord; and two, that Younghoon was just as pretty asleep as he was awake.

To this news, Chanhee merely fluttered his lengthy lashes, unimpressed. “And you’re telling me you don’t think he feels the same way?” He asked.

At some point, Jungwoo had broken out a half-eaten granola bar from his bag to munch on as a replacement for popcorn. “I can’t believe I’ve missed so much,” he said, shoving the bite into his cheek so he could speak. “And Kim Younghoon, Yn? Wooooow, I see you girl. That guy was insane as Charles Bingley in freshman year.”

“You’re so right,” Chanhee chimed in with an indulgent nod, pointing his stylus at Jungwoo. “I don’t know if insane was the right word, but he encapsulated the Bingley gent essence quite nicely.”

“I never saw that one,” you confessed.

Jungwoo’s face scrunched up on one side. “Clearly. At least he knows that you’re not just in it for his celebrity status.”

You leaned back in your chair and dragged your hands down the length of your face with an embarrassed groan. Only your guy friends; Chanhee and Jungwoo, as expected, gave a light laugh at your expense. “I don't like you guys.”

“C’mon Yn-ie,” Chanhee teased and reached over to poke your arm with the butt of his stylus pen. When you peeked one eye out between your fingers, he puckered his lips at you like a penguin. “Love you.”

You reluctantly slid your hands down. “If I'm gonna be clowned for my feelings, I'd rather be in bed!” You declared, taking your phone from the pile at the center of the table to check the time. It was nearly ten o'clock at this rate. Ah, and had anything productive been done? Absolutely none. Perfectly on track for the three of you.

“Nooo, don't go, Yn! You're too sexy,” Jungwoo whined.

“I think you should tell Younghoon your feelings,” said Chanhee. He hiked his feet onto the chair, hugging his knees to his chest. “You need to razz him up.”

You frowned. “I thought it was ‘rizz.’”

“You don't have rizz, though, so I thought razz would be the next best thing,” he said flippantly.

“Burn!” Jungwoo exclaimed with his hand cupped around his mouth, and you were suddenly reminded that he was in a frat.

You leaned your cheek against the palm of your hand with a dramatic sigh. “You're right; I do not have rizz.”

Chanhee's brows scrunched together in concern. “Oh my god, I thought you would fight back—of course, you have rizz, Yn! You snagged Kim Younghoon!”

Before you could tell him you’d given up on fighting back or before Jungwoo could give up on his sanity, Chanhee's phone buzzed from where it was sitting at the center of the table. You expected it to be Chanhee's friend, CH!Yn, since she was the most probable person texting at this hour; instead, Chanhee let out a delighted gasp, slapping his hand to his mouth at whatever notification he found waiting for him.

Both you and Jungwoo leapt to your feet and scrambled to peer over his shoulders. “What? Who is it?”

“It's JC!Yn,” he shrieked. “She's asking about flower shops.”

You and Jungwoo stayed perched over either of Chanhee's shoulders to see what would transpire. It was a brief exchange within the group chat of three people that included JC!Yn, Changmin, and Chanhee. Chanhee somehow knew about a flower shop in the university district that was open until eleven o'clock. After all your years of attending this school, you had no idea it even existed.

But once JC!Yn was off on her way, Chanhee turned his phone off with a prediction that he would not be hearing from her until at least tomorrow morning. “Looks like someone's getting confessed to tonight,” he snickered to himself.

Jungwoo was back in his original seat—a generous wording, since he leaned a good eighty percent of his body over the table with his knees braced on the chair, legs kicking up behind him. “You know what you should do, Yn? You should sweep Younghoon off his feet just like that. I'm sure he adores receiving flowers.”

“Would it not be as special though if he gets flowers after every show?” You asked genuinely, pressing the butt of your pen between your lips. “I'm not against getting him flowers.” Flowers would be a good idea… you'd seen plenty of movies that had romanticized the idea of giving and receiving flowers in your mind, and it would be an obvious gesture. At the very least, you could pull a Younghoon and tell him the flowers reminded you of him because they were gorgeous—or something to that effect. Maybe you really didn't have rizz…

Jungwoo shrugged with one of his shoulders. “I'm sure it would be special coming from you. I dunno. It's just something to think about.”

“So,” Juyeon drawled with his head lolling over the back of the couch to look over at Younghoon, “now that Jacob's situation is solved, what about you?”

Younghoon glanced up from his phone. “What about me?”

There were five of them holed up in Sangyeon's apartment presently, and four of them had invaded the eldest friend's abode to hoard his TV and play Super Smash Brothers. He was the only one with a working TV and decent WiFi to game on that wasn't Jacob and Kevin's apartment. Only, a couple hours in, Juyeon received a text message from Eric with a live update that JC!Yn was going to confess to Jacob.

Eric had ended his update with an ominous: Tell Kevin hyung he shouldn't go home tonight 🤣. That definitely livened up the place.

Kevin sat up from where he had been lying on the floor. “Oh, yo, you're so right. What's going on with you and Yn?”

Younghoon's eyes widened. “Nothing.”

“Don't give us that bullshit,” Hyunjae clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Didn't you say that you liked her?” He teased with a glint in his eyes as he wiggled his fingers Younghoon's way.

The man at the heart of the interrogation rolled his eyes and smacked Hyunjae's hand away. “I will not object to having said that I liked her, if that's what you're getting at.” Frankly, he would own up to having admitted that was how he felt about you. So what, he liked you? He wasn't embarrassed by it. The only problem was living with this knowledge and not telling you.

Sangyeon came over from the kitchen to lean against the back of the couch. He had a drink in hand, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Do you have a plan or are you gonna pull a Jacob and be a chicken?”

Kevin arched a high brow. “Only I can call Cobie a chicken, thank you very much.” He turned on Younghoon next with an accusing finger. “And you—I can't even go home right now, so let's get down to business.”

Younghoon blinked. “What business—”

“Order in the court!” Juyeon interjected. He grinned like a bunny. “Sorry, I know I have to wait until I'm a lawyer first, but it's just so fun to say.”

Sangyeon sputtered a laugh against the rim of his drink, blindly patting Juyeon on the head. “It's cool, man. Very appropriate timing.”

“We should play Marvin Gaye,” said Hyunjae. “It'll get us in the mood to tell Younghoon how to properly woo somebody.”

Younghoon swore his face was probably the shade of a ripe tomato. This was in no way how he thought his evening would go. And to be honest, he never ever expected having this conversation with his friends, ever. The last thing he wanted to do was to make his feelings all the more forward in his mind, and he was already having trouble whenever he was around you, and all you did was remind him of all the reasons why he wanted to be with you.

The thing was that he couldn't tell if you reciprocated his feelings. Sure, he could flirt and insert himself into your life all he wanted. But you could just be playing nice!

…actually, you probably were just playing nice. Dear god, he was back at square one.

He simply didn't want to lose your friendship, at the very least. Even if you didn't want to be with him in that way, he would pull up his big boy pants and be a friend to you instead. Then he wouldn't have to live without seeing you smile or listening to you work out problems aloud while he did mundane things in the background—

“And we lost him.”

Younghoon cleared his throat, raising a hand up to scratch his jawline. “You did not lose me,” he protested. The amount of attention on him right now was uncanny. Of course, he could go up onstage and be a character—but reality was different. He couldn't put on a mask or another personality; these people knew him… wasn't that scary? And yet, somehow freeing, at the same time.

Kevin inclined his chin to him with a little smirk. “You did have hearts in your eyes, my dude.”

“Aww, he's in love,” Sangyeon gushed while standing up to go refill his drink.

“I'm not in love!” He said with his index finger pointed at the sky. (He was in love. Of course, he knew he was in love. Because when all he did for the past three months of his life besides school was be around you and think about you and you you you… how could he not? Younghoon could fake any emotion in the world in front of an audience of people, but your eyes alone would devastate him.)

The entire apartment, sans Younghoon, chorused altogether now, “Yes, you are.”

Younghoon balked, rocketing upright. “There is no way all of you agreed on something for the first time and it was this.”

Hyunjae patted his friend's thigh from his position on the floor. “Believe it, Lover Boy. So what're you gonna do about it?”

“I wouldn't even know how to tell her,” Younghoon huffed, leaning back against the couch cushion with his arms crossed over his chest in thought.

That day when you'd told him about the wedding, he had been so hopeful that you were going to say something about feelings. He was so certain that he read you right, but you said nothing else afterward. He would totally go to that wedding with you, though; he just figured you might not want him to go, considering you'd dismissed it so quickly afterward.

Sangyeon came back to the couch and perched himself onto the arm of the sectional next to Juyeon. “It doesn't have to be fancy—you just need to be clear and straightforward.”

“Flowers could soften the blow,” suggested Juyeon.

Kevin chuckled. “For him or for Yn?”

Younghoon clicked his tongue at him with a playful scowl. “Quiet, you. But thanks, guys. I guess I just want to do this right. I don't wanna ruin what we already have.”

Juyeon pursed his lips and reached over to clasp his hand on his friend's shoulder. “You won't, man. I guarantee you that.”

“So if I get my heart broken, I can sue you for false advertisement?” Younghoon asked with his lips stretched in a grin, eyelashes fluttering innocently.

“Pssh,” Juyeon laughed, “try me.”

EPISODE ELEVEN: THE USUAL TIME & PLACE

IT was a frightening sequence of events when you texted Younghoon and he texted you at the same time. The Monday after Chanhee and Jungwoo had hyped you up to confess, you went around different items of furniture in your apartment with your phone in hand, pencil behind your ear, trying to work up the courage again to send the text.

And you did… eventually.

The usual time and place was decided upon, and it had snuck up on you as the day went on. You tied your shoes on and slipped out the door, making sure to pat your pocket down for where you had tucked your secret weapon for the night. As soon as you and Younghoon had confirmed a meeting for today, you ran to your (favorite) grad student, Seulgi, and asked very nicely for her set of keys into the planetarium, promising to treat her to brunch if she did.

The walk over to the convenience store was a jitter-filled one. Your stomach was doing cartwheels alongside the flips your heart performed in your chest. There was still activity on the streets, even at nine o’clock on a Dead week evening. You jumbled through the routine you had in mind over and over, a broken record of hopes and wants. The plan was to take a walk to the planetarium and use said walk to work up the courage to tell him. If anything went wrong, then you could cover it up with a cool presentation of stars overhead.

This isn’t lame, is it? You thought to yourself as you let yourself into the store. You were so in your head, you nearly didn’t notice that Younghoon was standing right in front of you, having just walked out of one of the aisles. You startled, breath hitching in your throat.

He smiled, the expression soft. “Hey,” he said to you and had to clear his throat, a hand brushing through his hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“All good; guess my head was just somewhere else,” you laughed nervously. You gripped the key in your pocket until you were sure your skin would smell like metal by the time you got to the planetarium. The two of you had met and hung out here a bundle of times before this, but this time in particular was different. The energy shifted in a way you couldn’t foretell if it was good or bad. For your sake, you hoped it was the former.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked and took a step toward you.

You inhaled, nodding. “I do,” you said. “I—actually, uhm, do you want to go to the planetarium with me?” From your pocket, you withdrew the keys Seulgi gave you and wiggled them around by the keyring. “I bribed one of my seniors for the keys.”

Younghoon brightened, a laugh falling out of his mouth, and now he was standing right next to you. “Oh my god, you evil genius… my beloved mastermind, are we about to break some rules?” He teasingly bumped your arm with his, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

“Only if you’ll break them with me,” you beamed and reached for the door to the front door.

“But of course,” he played along with a giddiness shining through his expression. “Anything with you. Though, I’d like to stop somewhere on the way first.”

Without even visiting your table in the back of the shop, you and Younghoon took off into the night together. You couldn’t imagine where Younghoon wanted to stop by on the way, but you thought it was probably to run an errand of sorts. But for the moment, it was at the back of your mind as you tried to keep this as normal as possible. “Different” was so intimidating—you wanted to sink into the comfort that was whatever you and Younghoon had.

It wasn’t difficult to slip into that normalcy, though. He always made it so easy.

“—and they did so well, Yn-ah. You need to come back and see them in person; they’re always asking me where you are,” he told you with an invigorated passion. He gave a feigned sniffle. “Pretty sure they like you more than me.”

You shook your head, laughing, “You’re so dramatic. They love you, Hoon. I mean, I can’t even believe that they would remember me after having met them only once!”

“Well,” he drawled, glancing away for a spell, “that might be my doing.” He confessed sheepishly, “I do talk about you a lot—but hey! You can’t blame me! I like talking about subjects that mean a lot to me.”

Your heart made a full stop in your chest, and you nearly physically halted in the middle of the walkway. The gears in your head could barely process what he had just said without going into a spiral. It was a reminder of what this night was originally about. You sputtered out a reply, “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“I try,” he jested.

“I do finish all my finals next week by Tuesday,” you told him. “I can totally come by that Wednesday and Friday for a little wing fitting. When’d you say the show was?”

He squinted one of his eyes in thought. “Err… it should be the Friday night after next, but if you do come through with those props, that should still give them enough time to get used to them before the performance.”

You nodded, mentally mapping out your schedule. Once your finals were through, you would have plenty of time to tinker with the props and have some proper fun after such a long quarter. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I appreciate it a lot, Yn,” he said, ducking his head as he nudged you with his elbow, “thank you in advance. I call you a workaholic, but here I am encouraging it.”

You chuckled. “It’s no trouble, Younghoon. Seriously. I like doing crafty things, and it’ll be a nice project. I promise.” To the end of that, you stressed further, “And if you think about it like you’re encouraging my hobbies and passions, then it feels a lot less like work.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right.” His head perked up when his eyes caught onto something in the near distance. His fingers unconsciously caught onto your wrist. “Here it is.”

Wherever you expected to find yourself, it was not a flower shop. There was no shop name or title anywhere that you could see, just the sketched posters and advertisements in the windows of chrysanthemums and hydrangeas. Troughs of vivid blooms lined the front windows like testaments to the plants one might expect to find within. Hanging planters dangled from the overhang, vines and foliage spilling over in an elegant mess.

There was one other sign posted in the window of the door that read its opening hours from 8am to 11pm.

Younghoon's cheekbones seemed to flush in the light streaming out from the inside of the shop. “Shall we?” He asked shyly and grabbed the door handle to open it for you.

You stepped inside before him with the door closing behind the two of you softly. You weren't sure where to go first—the room was constructed with two long tables in the center to hold smaller planters, then the perimeter was covered nearly from floor to ceiling with the larger plants, as well as the hanging garden pots like the ones outside hung from the ceilings by the lights.

There was someone to the right side of the room with a large, green watering can in hand. She glanced up when she heard the two of you come in. “Hi! How can I help you two?” She asked, reaching up to take out one of the earbuds she had in.

Younghoon placed one of his hands on your shoulder. “Would you mind if we took a look around?”

“No, not at all. Help yourselves; if you need anything, don't hesitate to holler.”

He smiled, “Sounds good, thank you!”

Did he know what he was here for? You followed him toward the leftmost table, unsure of where to wander yourself since there was so much stimuli. He stopped at one of the pots and you stood beside him. Leaning closer, you whispered, “I don't really know what we're looking at.”

“Me neither,” he admitted with an embarrassed grin, but then he pulled out a planter tag at the front of the pot he was examining. “But these might help.”

“You're probably right,” you mused, patting him on the arm.

“Look, these are carnations.” He scooted over to the next one over. There were an array of different colors of them, ranging from white to the deepest red. He placed a finger against his lips, then pointed at the white ones. “Those mean innocence, and those—” these were directed toward the blush pink ones, “—something along the lines of 'I'll never forget you.’”

You still stood close to him, and you reached over to gently warm the velvety petals between your fingertips. “I hope it's okay to touch them,” you suddenly said, swiftly retracing your fingers and peering over your shoulder at the worker.

“I'm sure it's okay,” he chuckled. He pointed out a buttery yellow set of petals a few pots down. “Aren't these gorgeous?” He breathed in awe.

When you arrived at the petal of choice, you raised the tag to see its name—daffodils. They were beautiful indeed, with pristine petals and tall stems, the color of them a rich yellow as if it had been painted rather than grown.

“What do these mean?” You asked.

“Unrivaled love? I think,” he answered with a slight tilt of his head.

You considered him for a moment with lips parted. “You're incredible, you know that? How do you know all this?”

His smile sweetened into something that made your chest feel warm. “You say that as if you're not the incredible one. But, Google. Don't look at my search history,” he muttered sheepishly.

It made you smile anyway.

You turned your head to scan the rows upon rows of diversity in one room. You were never quite the foliage fiend, but you could appreciate nature's beauty as much as nature's laws. Even if you might never be able to grow flowers of your own (because trust that you'd tried), as long as these places still existed, you could still admire and appreciate them.

Your eyes snagged onto a bundle of tulips at the front of the shop and you wandered over to take a look. Younghoon trailed after you to see what you wanted to look at, and stopped with you to admire the tulips. Their buds were near perfect, and they varied in so many colors—all soft purples, reds, yellows, pinks.

“Wow,” you said.

“Wow,” he agreed. He caressed the outside petals of one of the bulbs, then took the individual flower by the stem. He took yet another in his opposite hand and faced you. “What did the tulip say to the other tulip?”

You blinked. “Do indulge me.”

“We should put our tulips together and kiss,” he answered, and he pressed his own lips together in a barely contained smile.

You covered your mouth with one hand, a smile of your own blossoming under your palm. “I don't know about that one…”

“I don't be-leaf you when you say you're not a fan of that one.”

At this point, you could feel your face heat up and you could no longer hide your smile. “You're incorrigible.”

“It made you smile,” he quipped back with a smirk. He placed the tulips in his hands gently back into their pot, then swiveled on the balls of his feet. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are,” you agreed.

“Like you.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, but he already had his back turned to you as he surveyed the shop for the person who was on shift. Yet, you still spied the bit of red creeping up the back of his neck, and found yourself content.

“Hi, excuse me!” He caught the worker's attention. “Could we get just a little bundle of these tulips, please? Thank you so much.”

Your eyes widened and you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “Younghoon, what're you—”

He had a satisfied smile on his face. “Getting you flowers.”

“You don't need to get me flowers.”

“I’d like to,” he said simply, and that was the end of the conversation.

Less than ten minutes later, you and Younghoon were back out on the sidewalk with a new addition to the group. You cradled a small bouquet of tulips in the crook of your arm. The girl working there tonight had told you that being open so late caught a lot of last minute gift-givers as she wrapped your flowers in a tan colored butcher paper. She seemed to be an expert at tying ribbon bows that were just as beautiful as the flowers she tended, too.

You were already spinning far from your original intentions. You hadn't accounted for Younghoon making this gesture, and you wondered if he planned something for tonight.

Your counterpart suddenly cleared his throat while the two of you resumed your journey to the planetarium. You were only a few minutes away from the planetarium now. “I know I asked earlier if there was something you wanted to talk about,” he said, “but there is something I wanted to also talk about.”

Your heart fumbled over itself. “Uhm, yeah—yes, what's on your mind?”

From where you were on the street, you could see the broad dome of your target building just across the street. There was a rapid leap in your heart rate as he faced you beneath the street light shining over your heads like some kind of strangely timed, solo spotlight. The crosswalk turned green, but you stayed rooted to your place.

“I've been trying to figure out how to tell you this,” he began. He sucked in a deep breath and swallowed. You could only imagine how long he spent training himself to hold a poker face, but it was the liminal spaces where you could see right through him. “I like you a lot, Yn. It's—it’s an overwhelming amount, what I feel about you.”

You peered over at him wordlessly and hung onto every syllable coming from his mouth.

He wrung his hands out; this perhaps wasn't a script he was prepared for. But who ever came prepared for something like this? “And I think it's pretty obvious what I was hoping for tonight to be like from the flowers and all, and I was hoping that I was being just as obvious with how I felt about you, and… I don't know. I just… I had to tell you.” His lips pressed together so that the small divot in the side of his cheek appeared.

You didn't know how to describe the wave of emotion that washed over you. There was the rapid heart beat thundering in your ears, the tingle of relief in your shoulders, the happiness taking flight in your stomach.

“I have to be honest, I—I feel the exact same way you do.” You ducked your head, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “And I didn't know how to tell you either because I was really scared.” Your voice tripped, and you picked yourself back up. He waited for you, as always, patiently letting you say your piece. “I didn't want to lose you as a friend, at the very least, because you've come to mean so much to me over these past few months.”

Younghoon's smile widened and the amber color from the streetlight above haloed around his head for one dizzying second. “I didn't want to lose you either. I'm literally head over heels for you; you're every… you're everything.”

You didn't know how else to express your feelings through words, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, the flowers coming around his back to avoid being crushed. “Not good at words, sorry,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket.

You could feel the vibrations of his warm chuckle as he slowly wrapped his arms around you, his lips pressing against the side of your head. Message received.

Not everything went to plan, and it was important to exercise flexibility in such times. You still snuck (broke) into the planetarium with Younghoon, hand-in-hand, but all feelings were already known and laid sprawled on the table.

There was a center platform in the main showcase hall that was carpeted in a layer of fake grass that you and Younghoon gladly lounged upon to watch the universe. The image projected above your heads now of faraway solar systems and galaxies was unfortunately not real—they were produced by a specific software rather than the lens of a telescope. It was breathtaking, nonetheless.

You laid with your back against the fake grass next to Younghoon, your arms pressed against one another. The light projecting onto the dome above filtered down and painted you both in colors of stars and dark matter, all of those swirls of oranges and purples and blues and white.

“There is one thing that's still on my mind.”

He hummed. “What's that?”

“I was wondering—and you can totally say no—but the wedding…” You glanced over at him, and you wondered if he could understand what you were probing at. “I was wondering if you'd be comfortable going as my plus one. It's just the reception, but I understand if it's a lot.”

He smiled at you, big and bright, “I'd love to go as your plus one.”

Relief and joy fluttered in your chest now. It was a miracle your heart didn't grow wings and fly out then. “Thank you, really.”

His fingers inched over yours until they intertwined as a silent acknowledgement. He knew. He always knew somehow.

In the silence, you returned your gaze up to the night sky. It was crazy how vast the universe was and how small you were in relation to it. When put into perspective, your problems here on Earth were so much smaller than the world—and yet, they were still important.

“When I was a kid,” you started to say, and heard a small sound from your right as he looked back over at you, “I wanted to touch the stars.” You turned your head to look back at him.

His lip quirked upward fondly. “Something of yours will touch the stars one day.”

“I hope so,” you mused back. That was the dream.

His eyes dropped down to your mouth now, and everything quieted, as if you were in a vacuum with only the two of you. In this reality, no one and nothing else existed.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin as he leaned toward you and pressed his lips against yours. His body rolled half over yours, one hand cupping your jaw with a tenderness you were certain to become addicted to. It was your chest against his, your nose slotting beside his, your cheek beneath his thumb. His lips were a perfect marriage of pressure and softness at once.

When he pulled away, he didn't go far. “I think I just touched a star,” he murmured.

The breath in your throat hitched. “You're too good with words, Kim Younghoon.”

His eyes crinkled. “We can do something more your speed and study the space between us instead.”

You had to turn away to laugh, the sound of his own joining yours.

“Hey, it's a yes or no question,” he giggled, turning your chin back toward him. He bit his lip through a grin. “Can I kiss you again?”

You would be a fool to refuse him. In an instant, he lowered his lips over yours again, enveloped you in his embrace. And with every moment passed, you sank further and further into him. Maybe the universe was uncharted and alluring, but the universe could wait.

You had all the world right here.

a/n: tumblr fcking hates me and my dialogue, confirmed. anyways, pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! for now, i'll see u in hot commodity!

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[haet-sal]

An Attic Affair//Younghoon x reader smut

Since the Kim brothers moved in, your life has been hell. Sunwoo took over your room and made you sleep in the attic, and Younghoon… well, you don’t mind seeing him. What makes it hellish is that you’re incredibly attracted to him, and he doesn’t even seem to notice you.

Tags: stepbrother smut, KINKY fingering scene (but who cares youre already fucking your stepbrother), he calls u a 'SLUT', scene of watching porn + lots of masturbating, PERV!hoon+sunwoo (panty-stealing & ogling), perv!you, hoon calls himself "oppa" once, unprotected🤷‍♀️, BULLY!Sunwoo, hoon is VERY NICE to you

W.c.: 5.5k

Excerpt; “Don’t worry,” he says, “oppa learnt a lot about making dumb little bunnies like you cum. I bet I can make you cum… hmm…” He flicked your nub, making you squeal. “... with just a flick of my finger.” He’s still laughing at how you were trying to compose yourself, and failing.

~~

“Move over, idiot.” Sunwoo pushed you out of your high chair, and sits down with his breakfast. The same way he pushed you out of your room.

“You decided last week that that was your seat,” you say, pointing to the chair across from you two.

Sunwoo grunts. “I’m sorry, we have ‘permanent’ seats in this house?”

Your mother says it’s just the thing with having siblings now, you’ve been an only child so you don’t know how to share—why couldn’t you be more like the Kim brothers? When Sunwoo calls her ‘mom’ your mother just goes nuts with pride, so when he asked her, “mom can I please have Y/N’s room, it’s so much bigger,” she immediately gave it to him.

You couldn’t even move to the guest room, because it was now taken over by the older brother, Hoonie—who had moved into an apartment in the city, he didn’t even live here—but they wanted to keep his room and stuff there, so you had to settle for… the attic. Bullied out of a bed by Kim Sunwoo, who in the eyes your mother could do no wrong.

It wasn’t enough that he saw you battling with attic dust and cramped space every time you came down out of a ladder for breakfast, Sunwoo had to take everything else from you—your seat at any table, your laptop because his kept ‘freezing’, any alone-time you could get—and still wasn’t satisfied. Sunwoo was a bully. You didn’t know how your mother couldn’t see it.

You didn’t hate all the Kims, though. Your new stepdad was a great guy, the perfect fit to your mother’s jigsaw puzzle of a heart, and Younghoon…

You didn’t hate Younghoon. You didn’t even know how someone could begin to hate Younghoon. You first met him wearing some shabby Christmas sweater, but on the day of the wedding, he had a suit on…

You got cake frosting in your nose staring at Younghoon back at the wedding. You didn’t understand how fabric could be so sinful, more sinful than nakedness, how the thin white silk shirt hugged his chest, and the length of his legs exaggerated by the tailored pants… Younghoon was like a vision of a dream you couldn’t get enough of. Thank God he lived in the city, away from you, or you would have committed multiple crimes.

As you were staring Sunwoo down at the breakfast table, the front door suddenly opens, and two long legs strided into the dining room, to your surprise—Younghooon is in the kitchen, picking out muscats out of a bowl. “Hey, appa. Hey, mom.” Younghoon had started calling your mother ‘mom’ too, to your disdain. “I got a break from my job, and my roommate’s got his girlfriend over the whole time, so I thought I’d just come see you guys. Surprise?”

He takes a seat beside you until you’re sandwiched between both brothers. Your mom shot a look at you—“Sweetie, let them sit together, they haven’t seen each other in a while.”

Once again pushed out of your seat, you frowned, only Younghoon goes: “that’s alright, we’ll let her eat in peace.” He shot a look at Sunwoo. “You haven’t been more of an evil bastard, have you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” But Younghoon was only there for the attic thing, and not the laptop-borrowing and all the bullying that’s been going on.

~

You knew Sunwoo was a bit of a perv to other people, but… he wouldn’t steal your panties, would he? It’s weird, because it happens sporadically—once when you still kept your clothes in your old room, and right now. It’s just that he took your favorite lacey, pretty-pink-and-yellow ones, so it’s hard to not notice.

You rifled through your closet in the attic trying to find the missing panties. You thought you’d wear them, just because Younghoon’s around and you need your intimates to feel sexy. But they’re nowhere around.

Sunwoo couldn’t have, right? He’s not that sick. But who else could have? Certainly not Younghoon, who only ever even smiles at you out of obligation.

You won’t confront Sunwoo, though, just to not embarrass the both of you. He’d just deny it anyway… And currently he was hogging the bathroom just because he knew you were planning to shower.

You’re clutching your change of clothes to your chest as you knock on the bathroom door, trying to word your commands as sweetly as you could: “Sunwoo, I need to shower before my appointment!”

“You can’t rush me,” he retorted. “I’m doing my 16-step skin care routine.”

“Sun—” Your yell got interrupted, as you froze on your spot, to see a half-naked Younghoon with a towel around his waist, coming up to you.

“Oh,” he says in realization. “You were waiting on him, too? Then you can go first—”

“No!” you gasped. “No, you should—if he decides to come out, that is.”

“Hey, it’s your home,” he offered with a friendly smile.

The door swung open, and Sunwoo marches out, also half naked but ineffective on your psyche. You knew he only came out because he heard Younghoon, not because he finally felt some pity for you.

“16 step skincare routine?” Younghoon says with a sing-song.

“It’s how I keep my face baby-soft, loser.”

“Looks rougher than those basketballs you throw around to me.”

Wordlessly, Sunwoo reaches for the towel around Younghoon’s waist, and pulls it towards him, laughing maniacally as it comes off, and he throws it into the air before exiting the scene. You turn away from both boys, staring off, holding a scream inside your throat.

“Hey,” Younghoon says with a laugh, “Y/N, it’s fine. I had boxers on.”

“Wh–What? Oh.” You bat your eyes until you’re seeing clearly; Younghoon had boxers on, those baggy plaid boxers perfect for lounging around if he were living alone.

You imagined him on the couch, absentmindedly watching the TV, manspreading, the outline of his dick thick and dark in the shadows it casted. He’d reach under the waistband of those boxers, eyes still fixated on the TV in front of him, and start palming his cock, until it grows pink and needy—

You drop your change of clothes you had just thinking of it, and Younghoon looks dumbfounded. As you both reach out to grab them off the carpeted floor, Younghoon’s body ends up so close to you, half naked, almost like a side-hug. You feel his chest against yours, body so warm and real and solid.

He’s so hot. You pull away. “Um, you should shower first,” you offered. “You’re… older, and all.” You ran back to your attic screaming internally.

Brother, you tell yourself, that’s your step brother. Jeez, please, chill out, Y/N!

But you just felt his naked chest against your body, like if he were holding you in bed—

What bed! You groan. You were sitting on the mattress in the attic with your towel and clothes, waiting for Younghoon to finish showering. You willed yourself to not think of what he looked like naked—you’ve already seen enough. A whole lot. And still it wasn’t enough or you?!

~

“It’s so perfect that Younghoon’s here!” your mom starts to say. You’re confused. Why? “I wouldn’t have trusted you two here, but with your big brother here, maybe me and your stepdad can go on a trip!”

Sunwoo just grunts in response. You’re aghast—not that you didn’t trust Younghoon, but even your mother wouldn’t defend you against Sunwoo’s raids—how would Younghoon?

But the older boy grinned at your two parents. “You two should have fun, mom and appa,” he said. “We’ll take care of the house.”

~~

Your parents were packing for the trip, as they hurriedly booked a hotel with a lakeside view. You sat on the bed in the master bedroom, helping your mother with her luggage. “Do you have to go?” You couldn’t bear thinking about what Sunwoo would be like if some adults weren’t around.

“Younghoon’s here,” your mom assured you.

The said man was currently leading against the door frame talking to his dad about sunglasses, and if they were gonna swim in the lake. You sighed, dreamily staring at him. Just all the fun you couldn’t have… From downstairs, you could hear Sunwoo loudly playing fifa.

“Younghoon’s very responsible,” says your step dad. “He was resident advisor back in college!”

“Nah.” Younghoon scoffed cooly. Since returning to town, he had cut his hair the way wall street brokers do—clean cut, full forehead showing, dark brown hair pushed aside. The perfect son-in-law look, too bad your mother already calls him son. “Resident advisors are assholes on power trips. I was just the guy that helped deal with them.” He grinned, shooting you a look. “Hey, young lady, before I forget, I brought you a present.”

You raise your eyebrow in confusion, gingerly following him out to the former guest room—which was better than Sunwoo’s current one, and big enough for two people. You’d be mad at both brothers, if only Younghoon wasn’t so goddamn nice.

“Here.” He handed you a neatly folded burgundy-brown hoodie, incredibly similar to the one he wears to bed. You couldn’t control yourself from bringing it to your nose, and it smells like him, freshly taken out of his luggage, where it had laid folded next to his cologne and aftershave. So heavenly, boyish, sexy. It felt like hugging him.

“Thanks!” you chirped to Younghoon. “You’re the nicest.” The hoodie was a medium version of the oversized one he wore to bed. It’s disgusting to make a coupling joke with your step brother, so you don’t.

You looked back at the luggage it had come from, and you just… thought of something. Wouldn’t it be so cool, if you could have Younghoon’s actual, well-worn clothes? Like one of his soft giant shirts? Something that was just entirely his?

You’re so stupid. But it’s just a crush—you just needed to get over it. Right?

Well, you thought, if Sunwoo could (allegedly) steal your panties, you could take Younghoon’s shirt.

~~

While Younghoon and Sunwoo had dinner on the empty first floor—your parents had left already, adding to the stillness—you had an amazing idea. A horrible, perverted idea, but amazing nevertheless.

You open the door to Younghoon’s room ajar so it didn’t creak, and rifled through his bag. Where was it, the pristine-bleached white shirt, with the badge on it, that makes Younghoon look like an Abercrombie model? Your hands brush against the cold glass of his cologne, and you bring it out to sniff the top.

Like a creep. At least you weren’t sniffing underwear or something, ew—it was just cologne. Expensive french cologne.

Everything in his luggage was oversized and therefore too conspicuous if you take it away, so you decided to go through his unfolded just-dried laundry, which he had just done. Going through the first couple items… something flimsy and lacey fell out of it.

You thought you knew what it looked like, so you grab it from off the floor. Your panties, the ones you lost. What was it doing here… You felt embarrassed by the thought of Younghoon seeing your panties, so you just pocket it, thinking it got mixed in from the washing machine—ugh! That’s so embarrassing.

Under the pile, you find the white shirt you were looking for, and giddily take it away. He’d just think it had gotten lost somewhere, right?

You take it and threw it up the attic, ready for whatever you were going to do with it. Emphasis on whatever.

You go back downstairs to greet the brothers like nothing happened, you knew you had to do their dishes soon, which you think was your duty—only, Younghoon is pressuring Sunwoo to do them.

“You can’t just not wash your own plate, loser.”

“Why not? I let our dear little sister wash them, all the time,” Sunwoo says with a laugh.

“Sunwoo…” Younghoon sounded like he was losing patience. “Be nice to y/n.”

“No,” Sunwoo retorted, “why should I?”

“You wouldn’t do this if you didn’t like her, though,” Younghoon said in a scolding, all-knowing tone. “If she was ugly you’d leave her alone—you’re too obvious. Have some respect for the person that gave up their room just so you could jack off in it.”

You could see Sunwoo’s face, but from the back you could see that he literally flinched, stepping backwards out of instinct. Younghoon didn’t care. “Now I’ll wash the dishes for tonight, but tomorrow you’ve got no excuses, okay?”

Sunwoo didn’t dare storm away, but he got out of the kitchen as fast as he could; you hid yourself behind the stairs until his footsteps disappeared into your old room.

You felt semi-bad about causing a fight between the brothers, so you gingerly approach Younghoon at the sink, where he was getting the water ready, and offered to fill in for him. “I… usually do those,” you say softly. “Let me?”

“Don’t worry about the dishes,” Younghoon assured you with a smile, “I’ll wash them—or Sunwoo will wash them. For this week, just relax, can you do that for me?”

He reacted to your surprised expression by ruffling your hair like you were a little kid, and then avoided your body to grab the dish-washing gloves.

Can you do that for me? Jesus, it sounds like ‘can you do that for daddy?’ like in every porn you’ve seen before. The way Younghoon stood up for you gave you a knot in your stomach, and not even the bad kind, which you were so concerned about.

Now you feel extra bad for what you were planning to do with his shirt.

~~~

You type in ‘stepbrother’ into the search box, already cringing, toes curled and fists clenched. Eww, you did not want to do this, but your neanderthal brain was telling you otherwise.

The guy in the video is a white guy, so different from Younghoon, but soon he’s feeling up his costar, while she pretends to be unaware. You wondered what you would do if Younghoon did that to you, although he wouldn’t. He was just so clean-cut, and didn't seem to have a hint of perversion in his head.

You started to think of Younghoon’s cock in those plaid boxers again, the thickness of the shaft, the whole head of it, although left to your imagination it grew hot in your mind; you started closing your eyes and teasing your clit with just one finger, thinking more about Younghoon than concentrating on the porn, until it was just a mess of moans to you and it was Younghoon acting it out with you, in your head.

“Yeah, you like your stepbrother’s cock that much?”

You grabbed the shirt now, the fabric thin from being so well-worn, and stuffed the fabric in your mouth, the scent of it—Younghoon’s smell, his detergent and after-shave and just him—around your face reminiscent of what it would be like if he were gagging you, three fingers in your mouth— “shh. You wouldn’t want mom and dad to catch us, would you?” You shivered already, toes curling as the thought of him fills you up the way your fingers filled your cunt up.

With the video still playing, you toyed with yourself mercilessly, as if you were trying to get a rise out of yourself, moans perfectly muffled by the shirt that there was no way either step brother could hear from downstairs.

You came to the thought of Younghoon, his kind eyes turning feral as he watched you this way, hand inside your soaked panties and your pajamas unbuttoned that he could see your chest; you imagined him standing over the mattress, watching like a freakishly tall stalker.

When you open your eyes, he’s not here, and the audio plays blaringly from your headphones as the actors crash into each other, less chemistry than you and Younghoon had. You spit the shirt out of your mouth, his scent still lingering.

“Ah, I love your fat cock!” “Yeah, your tiny cunt is squeezing all my milk out of me—”

You hurriedly close the tab, cringing. Ew, did people actually talk like that during sex? You’d only had it once—the one time you lost your virginity to some kid named Soobin in college—and it was done in complete silence and whispers and coos, nothing like the pornographic monstrosity.

You quickly delete your history from your laptop, in case Sunwoo comes to borrow it again—imagine if he’d found stepbrother porn in your history. He’d get the wrongest idea in the world.

Or what if Sunwoo figured it out? That you were head-over-pussy in love with the older Kim? That would be so fucked up, a new way for him to torment you. You could never let him figure it out.

~

“I’m having a party,” Sunwoo tells you, as if it wasn’t obvious from the way he was setting up food and beer and one-use cups. He toiled with a beer bottle in one hand, wondering if he should start drinking before anyone even got there. “Just don’t be here because I don’t want my friends making comments about you, or anything. Also, help me set up the chips table first.”

“You’re not in high school anymore, idiot,” you replied, having half a mind to slap the chips bowl out of his hands. But then he’d just make you clean it up. “And I’m not Cinderella to help you with a party I’m not even allowed to go to.”

“Okay, attic rat.” Sunwoo was fluffing up pillows. “Just be gone when they get here, understood?”

You looked around the house—Younghoon had left to meet his friends, and wasn’t there to defend you, and maybe Sunwoo is right, maybe you should haul out, you didn’t want his friends making comments about you, either.

You shot Sunwoo an indignant look, though. “Go fuck yourself.”

“That’s no way to talk to your brother.” He drinks the pre-party beer.

~

When Younghoon comes home from having coffee with his friends (Jacob and Kevin), it’s late and his house is up in lights and loud with Sunwoo’s new age rap blasting from the speakers, and the smell of alcohol and weed overwhelmed his every sense to the point that he could taste it.

He found his brother smoking with a girl in the back porch, and immediately dragged him back into the house by the nape of his neck, leaving the girl stranded there. “You threw a party?”

“I haven’t had the house to myself since forever—”

“All you gotta do is move out, you sock.” Younghoon looked around the house. “Where’s Y/N? You know if your troublemaker friends see her, it’s gonna be a whole thing.”

“She’s been gone since I told her we were having a party, I think,” says Sunwoo. “I told her to get lost, anyway.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Younghoon chides under his breath, but Sunwoo goes back to drinking his beer out of a used cup like he didn't hear him.

The party was continuing downstairs, and the 2nd floor was more deserted. Sunwoo’s loud rap music seemed to die down slowly as Younghoon got on the 2nd floor… and then started to unlatch the ladder towards the attic.

The sounds muted down completely once he’s in, and he quickly pulled the ladder back up to cover his traces, and also so no one could follow him and interrupt.

He started his routine of rifling through your underwear drawer, last time he got lucky with those pretty pink panties, so now he wanted something else, something just as precious and sweet that makes him cold-sweat from the tension in his lower belly. From the moonlight streaming in from the skylight, he finds a pair of panties, white with a ribbon on them, pretty but cotton instead of lace, and he decides, as good as any other. Younghoon brought it up to his nose, and smelled only the detergent and fabric softener, and not a sense of you.

Needing you desperately, he heads over to the bed, thinking of lying on the same mattress as you, trying to think of what you’d look like all these nights when you touched yourself, whatever you touched yourself to. He crawled on his hands and knees onto the mattress, thumbing over the panties like he would with your skin, until nipples hardened and tight little warm walls twitched.

~~~

You were awoken as you felt movement on the other side of the mattress. You’d fallen into a deep sleep since Sunwoo told you to get lost, thinking you’d crash at a friend’s for the night, but you’d fallen asleep even through the party. Goddamn it. Now who was in your bed?

You rolled over, until you were nose-to-nose with Kim Younghoon himself.

You screamed. “Younghoon?! What are you doing here?” But your bodies were so tangled in your sheets that he couldn’t get away from you, and was in fact actually tied together, you basically on top of him.

“Y—Y/n!”

“What is that you’re holding?” you ask; it’s too small to be a phone. Unless… no way.

Younghoon tries to shake off the feeling, but he’s still frozen in his flight responses, frozen while you touched him and wrestled the fabric out of his fists.

“My panties?!”

Busted. Younghoon’s face was heating up, even if you couldn’t see it in the dark. “I–I was—” he started. “Uh, just… going through your laundry?”

You’re the one frozen now, and Younghoon quickly disentangled himself from the sheets, uncovering the little white mass stuck in the foot of the mattress—holy shit. “Is that my shirt?!”

He picked it up. “It’s stained.” You have no words, so Younghoon looks back at you, grinning maniacally. “Were you being naughty?”

It’s horrible how his entire demeanor could change in a second. Under the blankets, he started to touch you, not even a little shy, grabbing you close by the waist so horribly hot and warm. “Ah, so you were cumming to the thought of me, your step-brother?”

“I—I’m sorry!” you squeaked. “Wait, my panties—are you—are we…?!”

“Do you want me?” Younghoon asks, voice dropping several octaves just so hoarse and sexy. In the dark, he stared at your form with glinting eyes. “I do,” he says when you wouldn’t. “I want you so, so… bad…” His fingers crawled up your bare thighs—you were wearing just a night dress, flimsy and short.

“You don’t even notice me,” you huffed.

Younghoon scoffed it off, although he looked concerned. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, “plus your mom and my dad wouldn’t have liked it if I kept staring at your legs, like Mr. Obvious downstairs. Although, I did stare, when you were just too… juicy to look away from.”

You’re aroused, it showed. “R–really?” you squeaked, trying to keep your hands to yourself. He was still wearing his outside clothes, a button down and actual tailored pants. He smelled like his normal cologne, too.

“You’re a sick, sick, girl, you know? Wanting to be noticed by your step brother…” His free hand cupped your face to make you face him, harsh against your skin. He hummed, as if deriving pleasure just from touching you. “But don’t worry, I won’t punish you or anything. You know I’m the nice one.”

“Younghoon…” Your hands go up to press against his shirt, although not pushing him away, yet.

You hear him hum again, this time with a little giggle. His hand is trailing up your bare thighs, now landing between your legs, at the very core where all the heat and pulsation were coming from… He prods it with just one long middle finger, rubbing against the nub and the slit—although it doesn’t catch your clit to stimulate you, the lewdness of your step dad’s son's hand behind on your bare cunt was doing enough.

“No panties,” he observed with a cocky laugh. “And wet. What, were you dreaming about me?”

You moaned his name again. “Please…” Your hands went to his shirt and grasped onto a bunch of the fabric, like pornstars grabbing on bedsheets. You could feel his heart, and despite his demeanor, it’s pounding so hard in his chest.

“How many fingers do you think you’re ready for?” he asked.

“Um… two.” That’s a good number to start. His fingers are long and thin, but bigger than yours anyway.

“Hmm, you are tight.” He was prodding you with one finger, and when he enters, two fingers in you—it’s almost too tight in you, too much, too soon. Stuffed up inside you, so foreign.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “oppa learnt a lot about making dumb little bunnies like you cum. I bet I can make you cum… hmm…” He flicked your nub, making you squeal. “... with just a flick of my finger.” He’s still laughing at how you were trying to compose yourself, and failing.

Suddenly the door to the attic unlatches, the stairs springing down. Your goddamn attic wasn’t lock-able, from either side. Goddamn it. Younghoon stops everything, his free hand coming up to cup your mouth, eyes wide in alarm. “Shh,” he whispers to you.

It was a couple of Sunwoo’s friends. “I don’t know if I want to go up,” one guy was saying. “There’s spiders, and it’s Kim Sunwoo’s house—who knows what kind of monstrosities he has lying around?”

“You want to do it in his parents’ room?” This was another guy.

Younghoon’s fingers were still inside of you, and slowly, they begin to curl, uncurl, curl… You suppress a moan by biting down on your tongue, but the guttural sounds threatened to spill out of your throat.

To silence you, Younghoon hurriedly planted a kiss to your lips, tongue fighting its way in and taking over yours, when you moan it’s right into his mouth, the sound getting muffled and tortured and he kisses you with more force. His fingers up inside of you are now working faster.

You think you’d scream if he didn’t stop—or also stopped—you shut your legs, but his long, veined arms are persistently still stuck and working between your thighs. When you open your eyes, you see the moonlight catch in his fanged teeth—he’s laughing soundlessly at your plight.

“This is creepy,” the partiers were saying. “I’m high, anyway, I think I’d fall of the ladder if I tried.”

“Right. We’ll go to his parents’ bedroom—if someone hadn’t beat us here.”

Younghoon looked at you, releasing you—both hands now away from you, body pinned against yours. The ladder was still down, the light from down the stairs spilling upwards.

“We should close…” you started to say.

He kissed the back of your ears, one hand pinning your arm down. “Mmm… I like knowing someone could walk in…”

“Hoon, we’re not meant to be doing this, we’ll get in trouble. You’re my step brother.” Now you really sounded like a pornvid reciting its lines.

Younghoon shushed you, parting your legs with his knee. Your bare pussy under his legs, you couldn’t help yourself from grinding against his thigh. “Such a bad girl,” he remarked in a strained voice. “Ah.” He lifted your leg up higher, and took himself out, rubbing the head against your cunt. “You want it?” His voice was still deep from whispering.

You simply nod.

“Use your words…”

“I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Tell me how much of a bad girl you are,” he says, tone still teasingly tantalizing. “Tell me how much you want your big step brother’s cock buried inside you.”

“I want my step brother’s cock in me, I’m so bad. I’m so… hnng, fuck…” You couldn’t reach the bed sheets, so you just grab Younghoon’s shirt again. You were making an untidy mess of his outside clothes, although he still had hair still perfectly parted like for an event, he looks amazing. And he’s inside of you, buried all the way, he zaps his head away from you just to make a guttural grunt. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so bad, you… you know that?” He pulls out, only to slam back in, and you squealed.

“Already? I haven’t even…” He’s now obeying the urgency in your eyes before you can even say ‘faster’. He’s quick and fast and thick and hard in you, and he’s starting to break out in sweat just from the heat of it all.

He tears the rest of the blankets away from your bodies so he could thrust into your pussy easier. You just hear his panting, and just to silence himself, he bites down on your shoulders, and up your neck. You hear “hnngg, yeah~” out of his lips, like he was having a hard time controlling his own pleasure spilling out from him.

You moaned. “Sunwoo’s gonna see these…”

“And think you’re a slut that fucked one of his friends,” Younghoon says. “Is that what you are? A dumb little whore that just spreads her legs for everybody?”

“N—no!” You’re doing everything just to not scream, but it’s excruciating holding it in. “I’m n–not a slut. I’m just a slut for—for you, Hoon…”

Younghoon laughed. “Is that right?”

He switched the position to missionary, holding you underneath him as he pounded your poor cunt, the same way he imagined he would when he was masturbating with your panties. You hear his strained panting again, his lovebites still stinging along your neck. You threw your head back and moaned.

“So, so wet… baby…” It grew sloppier, with sounds of the wetness of your cunt and his precum, disgustingly mixing. Younghoon fucked you harder now, knowing he had to pull out soon. “Fuck… fuck!”

Your hands crawl up from under his shirt, scratching his back. He was so big, every part of him… you sink your nails into his waist. “Ugh, Hoonie…”

He hurriedly took himself out of you, panting, to spill his seed on your stomach. You still had your nightdress on, and the cum got on it, white against white… It’s almost beautiful, a ruin of your innocence. It satisfied Younghoon enough, that he just fell back into the mattress beside you, catching his breath. “I’m… sorry…” he said. “Ugh, I feel like such a bad man.”

You wiped it off your belly with the dress, and then took it off. “No, I liked it,” you reassured him. You put the dress away into the laundry basket, and put on the hoodie that he’d given you, grinning at him. He had his eyes closed, slowly feeling the post-ejeculation clarity.

You crawled over and shut the latch, blocking it with a box so no one could come in. “Seriously, though… Sunwoo might see your hickies,” you say.

“Let him.”

“I don’t want him to call me a slut, to add to everything else he calls me.” There was a truthful sting in your voice that Younghoon felt the pain. He gathered you in his arms, until you were just cradled so tiny in his chest.

“Shh, it’s alright.” Younghoon kissed the side of your face again. “I’ll take care of you, okay? You’ll sleep in my arms tonight.”

~~

“What the hell is that?” Sunwoo demanded at the breakfast table, cups still scattered around the kitchen counter.

“What the hell is what?”

“You got laid last night?”

“Kinda weird that you notice it when you can’t even get your eyes to open from the hangover,” you pointed out, “are you in love with me that much?”

He stuttered. The first time Kim Sunwoo had ever stuttered in his life, although maybe the hangover was giving him a brain fog. “Shut up.”

Younghoon was cutting you strawberries in heart shaped cutters and frying pancakes on another pan. He watched you out of the corner of his eyes, smiling to himself.

“Hey,” Sunwoo whines when Younghoon makes two portions—one for himself and one for you—and leaves him out. “Where’s mine?”

Younghoon pinched your thigh under the table, the way he did last night… you threw your head back and moaned a little from the pain.

“Whatever!” Sunwoo groaned. “I’ll probably just vomit everything back up, anyway—I’m gonna nap.”

As soon as he turned his back, Younghoon inched closer to you on the seat, lips attached to the same place he had sucked hickies on. “This is so fun,” he giggled. “And just the beginning of the whole of it.”

~~

Who wants part 2 where you fuck sunwoo too!! Tell me if i should write it ahahahhaa

#the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #tbz x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz smut #tbz smut #younghoon smut #younghoon x reader #younghoon imagines #the boyz fic #tbz fic #younghoon fic #younghoon scenarios #younghoon hard hours #the boyz hard hours #tbz hard hours #kpop smut #stepbrother smut

[hanniluvi]

— ✦ OH MY ! - BERMUDA LINE SMAU

✦ SYNOPSIS : Despite being okay with being single, your friend Ningning can’t help but feel sad for you. So, as her job as a matchmaker, she sets you up for a blind date! Not being able to refuse, you got ready for this date … but why is there three men in front your house ?!

⤷ not one, not two, but three guys show up to your doorstep, claiming that they are your blind date.

➷ THE DATES! — model!younghoon , model!hyunjae , model!juyeon x fem!reader

ִ ۫ ₊ MATCH IN MAKING 📄 . . : social media au, non-idol au, blind date au, strangers 2 lovers, fluff, crack.

𝄞 DETAILS — possible random timestamps, use of kys + kms jokes, friends may jokingly bully each other, will add more if there’s anything else!

… INCLUDING . . : ningning from aespa, eric + chanhee from the boyz, sieun from stayc, serim from cravity, yeonjun from tomorrow x together.

☏ NOTE - you may be wondering , um soph don’t you already have oh my posted? well, after putting it onto hold, i wanted to to revamp it a little bit (well, a lot..)! had to do my first tbz smau right!! there will definitely be some changes in this smau!! there still will be the old ver up :) enjoyyyy sjjsjs

and obviously, this smau is dedicated to kayla (whose been asking for it since last year), sia (who was thinking abt stanning tbz bc of this , i am quite honored), sona (obv!!)

STATUS — ONGOING | FEB 26 2024 TO ???

➷ AND THE MATCHING STARTS ⌞ CHAPTERS ⌝

ෆ PROFILES ! the lunatics [y/n] | the famous [bermuda]

DATE 001 — 0 hoes but 100% swag

DATE 002 — THE model trio

DATE 003 — some shady business

DATE 004 — errr is this the set…?

to be added …

note : unpublished chapters may have their names changed!

🎧— dm, ask, or comment to be tagged!

TBZ PERM TAGLIST — @flwoie @haruavrse @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ilovechanhee @ja4hyvn @vampcharxter

OH MY TAGLIST — @haknom @wonieleles @wvnkoi @tocupid @be0mlvr @nanadreamies @conwunder

#k-labels #kflixnet #k-films #the boyz #the boyz juyeon #the boyz hyunjae #the boyz younghoon #the boyz headcanons #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz social media au #the boyz smau #juyeon headcanons #juyeon scenarios #juyeon imagines #juyeon x reader #juyeon smau #hyunjae headcanons #hyunjae scenarios #hyunjae imagines #hyunjae x reader #hyunjae smau #younghoon headcanons #younghoon scenarios #younghoon imagines #younghoon x reader #younghoon smau #kpop ff #kpop smau

[ericsprincess]

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. 

#younghoon smut #kim younghoon smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #ficscafe #younghoon fic #kim younghoon fic #younghoon #kim younghoon #kpop smut #kpop fic #younghoon imagines #kim younghoon imagines #younghoon x reader #kim younghoon x reader #younghoon scenarios #kim younghoon scenarios #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz #tbz

[stealanity]

playlist one , the boyz ( lsg to kvm ) :

ꕤ lee sangyeon ,

someone

⠀

[ 7:02am ]

[ 5:12pm ]

[ 6:14am ]

⠀

ꕤ bae jacob ,

summer love

birthday cake

melatonin

co-lover

white lily

⠀

ꕤ kim younghoon ,

corny jokes

reassuring hands

kinda miss you

i didn't forget

⠀

[ 1:02am ]

[ 2:45am ]

⠀

ꕤ lee hyunjae ,

suffocating ( written serie , discontinued )

this special look

stay

waffle

loser, lover

crazy

too late

only for practice

⠀

[ 9:32am ]

[ 4:35pm ]

[ 10:37pm ]

⠀

ꕤ lee juyeon ,

his s/o waking up in the middle of the night

cute little intruder

bad day, but good boyfriend

daydream

terrible idea

the bet

cold hands

risky

sick of you

⠀

[ 5:34pm ]

[ 10:45pm ]

[ 7:52pm ]

[ 8:57pm ]

⠀

ꕤ moon kevin ,

bad words

the little prince

⠀

[ 3:37pm ]

[ 11:23am ]

⠀

. . . link to maknae line !

#⠀stealanity : the boyz masterlist⠀ #the boyz #the boyz imagines #tbz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz drabbles #tbz drabbles #the boyz timestamps #tbz timestamps #tbz #tbz x reader #the boyz x reader #tbz fluff #tbz angst #tbz reactions #the boyz reactions #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #juyeon imagines #lee hyunjae imagines #sangyeon imagines #younghoon imagines #kevin imagines #jacob imagines #lee juyeon #lee hyunjae #bae jacob #moon kevin #kim younghoon

[typeboyz]

→ Kim Younghoon x Leitora

→ Palavras: 2K

NOTAS: Fluffy, smut, sexo oral, masturbação, food play, palavrões.

📌 masterlist

© all rights reserved by @momhwa-agenda

© tradução (pt/br) by @typeboyz

→ Sinopse:

O Natal está no ar e o amor está florescendo quando sua paixão e amigo, Kim Younghoon, se junta a você para assar guloseimas. Enquanto o aroma das guloseimas natalinas enche a cozinha, fica a dúvida: É a doçura do açúcar que torna o momento especial, ou é o beijo carinhoso que finalmente revela os sentimentos não expressos entre vocês dois?

Duas semanas antes do dia de Natal, o calor do forno enchia a cozinha enquanto você preparava meticulosamente as guloseimas para seus entes queridos. O aroma de pão de gengibre e açúcar pairava no ar, criando uma doce atmosfera festiva. Você estava determinado a tornar essa temporada de festas especial, mas o estresse da tarefa em mãos era evidente.

Entra em cena Younghoon, seu amigo de longa data que nutria uma paixão silenciosa por você. Ele era um doce, sempre pronto a oferecer uma mãozinha. Enquanto você fazia malabarismos com tigelas e cartões de receitas, Younghoon se ofereceu para ajudar, atraído pela oportunidade de estar mais perto de você.

Embora você o adorasse, sua natureza controladora era bem conhecida, até mesmo por Younghoon. Cada etapa do processo de cozimento foi executada exatamente como você determinou. Ele estava determinado a fazer os doces perfeitos não apenas para sua família e amigos, mas também para impressioná-la, então seguiu suas ordens diligentemente.

Em meio à farinha e o açúcar, uma doce história de amor começou a florescer. Younghoon, sempre cavalheiro, deu a você um pouco da mistura da massa, com os olhos fixos nos seus na esperança de aprovação. A tensão entre vocês dois era palpável, uma mistura de sentimentos não expressos e a alegria compartilhada de criar algo bonito juntos. Cada detalhe, por menor que fosse, tornou-se importante para vocês dois. Para você, era o olhar concentrado no rosto de Younghoon enquanto ele executava prontamente cada tarefa que você lhe dava, fazendo seu coração vibrar. No caso dele, ele ficou fascinado com seu toque delicado ao preparar os doces.

À medida que o cozimento continuava, você percebeu que talvez fosse hora de se soltar um pouco. Uma mancha brincalhona de glacê de açúcar no rosto um do outro levou a uma mini briga de farinha, com risadas ecoando pela cozinha. O amor estava no ar, e a tarefa que antes era estressante tornou-se uma aventura deliciosa compartilhada entre duas almas à beira de algo mais.

— Hoonie, minhas mãos estão cansadas, por favor, me ajude a misturar a massa. – Você coloca a tigela no balcão para arrumar os fios de cabelo que se soltaram de sua presilha.

— Veja. É por isso que você tem braços de fada bonitinhos. – Ele provoca enquanto mistura vigorosamente a massa.

Você faz uma careta para ele, e sem olhar, ele apenas reconhece a cara que você fez, continuando a trabalhar na massa. Você está prestes a sair e cuidar das guloseimas prontas, mas para, só para se maravilhar com os músculos e as veias das mãos dele enquanto ele bate a massa. E os antebraços... Imagina como seria se ele estivesse enfiando os dedos na minha boceta. Ao pensar em seu melhor amigo lhe tocando com os dedos, foi sua deixa para voltar ao lote de guloseimas que estava pronto para ser embalado.

Com o restante das guloseimas embaladas em suas caixas, tudo o que restava era colocar a cobertura e decorar os cupcakes. Em um momento de proximidade, você ficou atrás de Younghoon, pegando as mãos dele para guiá-lo na criação de redemoinhos de glacê perfeitos. A proximidade provocou uma conexão elétrica entre vocês, e ambos estavam muito conscientes dos toques sutis e do calor compartilhado. O cérebro de Younghoon lutou para se concentrar nos detalhes que você estava mostrando a ele, mas o cérebro dele estava na sarjeta imaginando suas mãos no pênis dele.

Quando seus dedos se esfregaram nos dele, uma atração magnética pareceu incitá-los a dar esse salto. O ar entre vocês engrossou, e quando finalmente se separaram, se viram presos em um olhar que falava muito. O desejo de preencher a lacuna e compartilhar um beijo, uma doce tentação à qual nenhum de vocês poderia resistir.

— Pronto, assim mesmo. – Você sussurrou, as palavras pairando entre vocês como uma promessa.

Você se referia à massa, mas nem mesmo você sabia se isso ainda era sobre os bolinhos. A mente de Younghoon estava acelerada, e seus lábios... Tão próximos, mas tão distantes, tornaram-se uma tentação irresistível. A vontade de sentir a suavidade de seus lábios contra os dele era inegável.

Você é interrompida quando sua mão pressiona acidentalmente o saco de confeitar, cobrindo levemente seus dedos com glacê.

— Oh, meu deus. – Você está prestes a limpar as mãos no avental, mas para sua surpresa, Younghoon pega sua mão, as levando aos lábios e lambendo a cobertura.

Pronto, isso basta. Você fica na ponta dos pés para agarrar o rosto dele, esmagando seus lábios. Provando um pouco do glacê nos lábios dele, a ponta de sua língua o pressiona para entrar, e Younghoon abre a boca, entrelaçando suas línguas.

Deus, seus lábios eram tão bons, pensou Younghoon, suspirando durante o beijo.

O tempo parecia ter parado enquanto o calor da cozinha era substituído pelo calor do abraço um do outro e pelos gemidos desesperados enquanto vocês se beijavam. Ambos estavam respirando pesadamente quando se afastaram um do outro. Demorou um pouco até que Younghoon lhe disse algo.

— Precisamos terminar... os doces, quero dizer. – Você deu uma risadinha ao perceber o quanto ele foi sugestivo.

— Sim, eu deveria... Sim. – Você gagueja.

— E terminamos! – Você exclama alegremente, com os doces bem embalados em caixas de presente, deixando apenas a limpeza para a frente.

— Ah, ah. – Interrompe Younghoon, percebendo sua aproximação dos pratos. — Você já trabalhou o suficiente. Deveria descansar.

Ele pega suas mãos e você não pode deixar de desejar o toque dos lábios dele mais uma vez. Apesar do beijo ter confirmado os sentimentos mútuos entre vocês, iniciá-lo novamente é uma sensação nova e intensa, especialmente por se tratar de seu melhor amigo.

— Há algumas sobras, se você quiser. – Você menciona casualmente, felizmente inconsciente do quão doce e sedutora sua voz soa, ou do olhar sedutor em seus olhos.

Younghoon, em chamas de desejo, anseia por beijá-la e sentir seu calor o envolvendo.

Enquanto vocês se deliciam com as guloseimas restantes, um calor palpável preenche a sala, ambos os corpos silenciosamente desejando se fundir um ao outro mais uma vez.

— Você é realmente talentosa na confeitaria. – Elogia Younghoon, com o olhar fixo em seus lábios, agora levemente tingidos com glacê de açúcar.

Suas bochechas ficam coradas e você desvia o olhar.

— O quê? É verdade!

— Você também não é tão ruim assim. – Responde com um sorriso. — Obrigada por me ajudar.

— Não há problema algum, S/N. Qualquer coisa por você. – Diz ele, com olhos sinceros e calorosos.

Enquanto você pensa em introduzir um novo tópico para quebrar o silêncio, Younghoon o vence. Inclinando-se para mais perto, ele passa o polegar perto de seus lábios, fazendo seu coração dar uma cambalhota para trás.

— Está sujo aqui. – Ele ri.

Seus dedos dos pés se curvam em antecipação quando ele trava os lábios com você mais uma vez.

Ele lambe a mancha açucarada de seus lábios antes de encher sua boca com a língua. Suas mãos vão até o pescoço dele, descendo para puxar sua camisa. Com as duas mãos, Younghoon a pega pela cintura, colocando-a sentada sobre a mesa. Ele se coloca entre suas pernas, enquanto vocês continuam a se beijar. Você se aproxima para puxar o cabelo dele, provocando um gemido pornográfico de Younghoon. Você se afasta, olhando para ele com os olhos encapuzados, enquanto pega a mão dele e a pressiona contra a poça que se forma entre suas pernas. Quando ele sente a umidade entre suas coxas, ele lambe e chupa seu pescoço e você começa a gemer quando ele desliza as mãos por baixo de sua calcinha, puxando sua roupa íntima.

— Hum, espere. – Você pressiona o peito dele, sinalizando para que ele pare. — Pegue o saco de glacê.

Com o glacê à mão, Younghoon entende o que você deseja quando você apressadamente tira a blusa e o sutiã, expondo seus seios para Younghoon.

Ele deixa você sem fôlego quando desenha uma trilha de glacê acima dos seus seios, e em seguida, começa a lambê-la. Ele se delicia com seus seios volumosos e mamilos empinados, praticamente beijando-os. Você arqueia as costas, dando a ele livre acesso para chupar e lamber seus mamilos sensíveis. Younghoon pressiona a palma da mão em sua barriga, empurrando-a gentilmente para que se deite de costas na mesa. Ele dá beijos molhados e desleixados em seu corpo, movendo-se torturantemente devagar em direção ao lugar onde você quer que ele esteja.

Não querendo esperar mais, você levanta a cabeça dele, afastando-o para que você tire a camisa dele à força. Seus lábios se chocam enquanto vocês dois tiram todas as peças de roupa, apalpando o corpo um do outro quando seus corpos estão nus. Pegando o saco de glacê, você coloca um pouco de glacê em cima do peito de Younghoon enquanto ele observa. A respiração dele fica suspensa quando você espalha o glacê por todo o torso, aproximando-se do pênis dele. Você faz uma pausa apenas para olhar para ele, sorrindo enquanto cobre a cabeça de seu pênis com a cobertura. Por mais que Younghoon sentisse os olhos se fecharem com a sensação eletrizante de sua língua no pênis dele e a visão de você de joelhos, parecia errado desviar o olhar de você. Com os olhos grudados nele, você passa a língua ao redor da ponta, descendo até o comprimento e explorando cada detalhe do pênis.

Younghoon choramingou, mordendo o lábio. Lágrimas lhe picaram os olhos diante da deliciosa sensação.

— Não se contenha. Quero que você geme o quanto quiser, Hoonie. – Você diz antes de abaixá-lo ainda mais em sua boca.

— Ah, porra! – Ele exclama, agarrando seu cabelo.

Foi uma loucura como vocês dois acabaram assim. Dançando um ao redor do outro, sem saber se os sentimentos eram mútuos, beijando-se enquanto assavam, e agora você estava esvaziando as bochechas em volta do pênis cheio de veias de Youngoon. Quando Younghoon puxa seu cabelo, você geme com ele ainda em sua boca, enviando vibrações para o membro dele. Você começa a se mover mais rápido com a mão dele na sua cabeça e começa a se sentir tonta. Meu Deus, o gosto dele é tão bom.

Younghoon joga a cabeça para trás, seus gemidos se tornam irregulares à medida que você o leva à libertação. Quando ele olha para baixo, o pau dele pulsa com a visão. Você está atordoada com o esperma dele escorrendo pelos seus lábios.

— Younghoon. – Você geme, ainda de joelhos, mas com as coxas bem abertas, massageando sua boceta encharcada.

A visão em si faz com que Younghoon a pegue nos braços e a coloque gentilmente sobre a mesa.

— Quero retribuir o favor. – Ele sussurra abrindo bem as suas pernas, mergulhando em sua buceta brilhante, e meu deus, você tem um gosto doce.

Uma onda de prazer eletrizante partiu de seu núcleo e se espalhou por todo o seu corpo. Você admite que seu melhor amigo era o primeiro pensamento em sua mente quando se masturbava. Você ficou obcecada com ideias de como ele a comeria, o que agora parecia tão surreal. Seus dois sonhos se transformando em realidade. Younghoon demorou a lamber os lábios encharcados da sua boceta, satisfeito em lhe dar prazer da mesma forma que você fez com ele antes. Ao mesmo tempo, ele estava imerso em tudo sobre sua boceta. Por curiosidade e fome, ele enfia a língua em seu buraco, fazendo com que você feche as coxas em volta dele.

— Younghoon, porra! Eu... – Você choramingou, o empurrando para mais perto para comer sua boceta.

Você estava se contorcendo e agarrando a ponta da mesa, tão dominada pelo prazer. Uma parte de você acha que não aguenta mais, mas do jeito que Younghoon estava absorvendo todo o seu suco e fazendo você se sentir bem, você achava que poderia ficar assim para sempre.

— AH! YOUNGHOON, PORRA, POR FAVOR, AH! – Seu orgasmo a pega de surpresa, fazendo com que você grite uma confusão de palavras.

Você quase se sente mal pelo fato do crânio de Younghoon ter sido esmagado, mas o aperto firme no cabelo dele estava o incitando a beber sua liberação, dizia o contrário.

Quando Younghoon levanta a cabeça, vocês dois estão rindo. Só de pensar que vocês dois acabaram de fazer sexo oral um no outro, ainda assim estavam rindo como adolescentes. Vocês não conseguiram evitar. O rosto dele estava uma bagunça, com a boca manchada de esperma, enquanto o cabelo dele estava grudado na testa, encharcado de suor e dos seus sucos.

Após a intensa experiência, você o chama para um novo beijo. Vocês dois sorriem durante o beijo, ainda processando como a situação se transformou em um encontro apaixonado. Depois de atenderem aos desejos um do outro, vocês dois estavam pensando em ter uma conversa sobre o que isso significava para vocês dois. Em especial, quando esses sentimentos se desenvolveram.

— Você poderia ficar um pouco mais, Younghoon? – Você murmura, seu tom sedutor tornando difícil para ele resistir.

— Com certeza, S/N. Além disso, ainda não terminamos. – Ele sorri, pegando você desprevenida quando as mãos dele encontram o caminho para as suas coxas, levando-a para o quarto.

#⠀⠀𖹭 ⠀⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀⠀*⠀⠀𝗇𝖾𝗐⠀⠀𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗅.⠀⠀💌 #story © momhwa-agenda #tradução © typeboyz #mood © estrelinha-s #dividers © cafekitsune #the boyz pt br #younghoon #younghoon imagines #younghoon smut #younghoon cenários #younghoon au #younghoon x leitora

[jinkoh]

'the way that you look tonight got me feeling like damn, i might be the luckiest man alive'

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

“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."

Masterlist

#younghoon x reader #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #kim younghoon x reader #the boyz fanfic #the boyz oneshot #the boyz imagines #the boyz drabbles #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fluff #younghoon imagines #younghoon drabbles #younghoon scenarios #younghoon fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #gn reader #younghoon x gn!reader #kebbis.writing

[firetextskpop]

YounghoonxJuyeonxReader

The TV played aloud but neither of you were actually watching it. Younghoon’s lips pressed against yours and your arm raised to press him in a bit closer. This progressed into a makeout with the man behind you, his hand slowly creeping up and lightly closing around your throat. You began to grind your ass against him and he tightened his grip just a bit and pulled away. “You’re so needy. What if we brought in Juyeon? Would you like that?” Immediately you nodded and Younghoon laughed before calling his fellow bandmate and your shared boyfriend. It barely even rung before Juyeon busted through the door. “What’s wr-” The newcomer began but then analyzed the situation before him and shut the door. The older member chuckled a bit and began explaining. “Our y/n was so needy and you know when they’re like this, it’s not a one man job.” Juyeon bit his lip thinking about how true it was and came closer. “I see. Well, I’m definitely here to help in any way I can.” He responds and pulls off your pants before kissing up your legs where you need him most. Your breath hitch as your sensed him pass over your groin and kiss up your belly, past your chest and on your lips. “Missed you.” You whisper and he pecks your lips again. “Missed you more.” His left hand grazed you down under and he went back down to pleasure you orally. Starting out with kisses, last kiss placed on your most sensitive part  before licking from the base, up. “He must be doing well. Look at how you’re squirming around and listen to your beautiful moans and groan,” Younghoon mentions and begins kissing you again. Juyeon’s nice strong hands begin working on you and that’s almost your breaking point. Younghoon can’t stop laughing, knowing how affected you are. I mean Juyeon had him the same way the previous night before. With his hand on the nape of your neck, the elder of your boyfriends whispers against your lips, “You gonna cum for us y/n?” Your head nods and legs tremble as you release against the younger’s mouth. This emits a moan from all three of you as well as a tighter grip from Juyeon. Soon enough you were begging for him to let up and it took Younghoon running a hand through Juyeons hair and a soft tug away for him to stop. Juyeon’s face covered in your juices did more to the both of you laying back than you’d like to admit. The taller of the two pulls the other in for a kiss before groaning. “Oh you two are in for it tonight. Juyeon, on your back, now. Y/n, ride him.” Younghoon commands and shifts himself whilst removing his clothes. And he’s right. You three definitely had a long night.

#the boyz #the boyz smut #juyeon smut #the boyz scenarios #juyeon scenarios #younghoon smut #younghoon scenarios #tbz smut #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #the boyz imagines #juyeon imagines #younghoon imagines

[mingtinys]

back in the game

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

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.

#kim younghoon #kim younghoon x reader #kim younghoon x you #kim younghoon imagine #younghoon #younghoon x reader #younghoon x you #younghoon imagines #the boyz #tbz #the boyz younghoon #tbz younghoon #younghoon maverick #the boyz x reader #the boyz x you #younghoon fanfic #younghoon angst #the boyz imagines #the boyz imagine #tbz x reader #tbz x you #tbz imagine

[momhwa-agenda]

frosting the snowman

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 😭💕

#the boyz #younghoon #kim younghoon #younghoon smut #younghoon x reader #tbz #the boyz smut #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #tbz fanfic #kim younghoon x reader #tbz smut #younghoon imagines #younghoon scenarios #momhwa writes

[sungbeam]

𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 — teaser!

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, teaser warnings. friends 2 lovers, mutual pining, college au, swearing, mentions of chemistry & physics

▷ projected release date. february 16th/17th hopefully!

▷ estimated wc. 24-26k ... maybe

this is the seventh installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but there are multiple references to previous fics & i highly encourage u to read those; all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. (ayc occurs DURING party people)

a/n: surprise 🦅 @justalildumpling approved btw

TEASER BELOW THE CUT (APPROX. 500 WORDS)

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 prevalent 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.”

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

#deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #kim younghoon x reader #the boyz fanfic #younghoon x reader #the boyz oneshot #the boyz imagines #the boyz drabbles #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fluff #younghoon imagines #younghoon drabbles #younghoon scenarios #younghoon oneshots #younghoon fluff

[haet-sal]

Dangerous Liaisons //sangyeon, younghoon, sunwoo x reader

Your best friend and partner in crime has a job for you: destroy his step-family’s life, and from the inside out. What can you say? You just never could say no to Sunwoo.

Part One of Bad Person Behavior // Read Part Two Here

Tags: sunwoo x reader smut, daddy!sangyeon x reader smut (1 scene), cute virgin!Younghoon

Warnings: graphic UNPROTECTED S*X, aged up Sangyeon + age gap, bad person behavior, CHEATING, talks about cumming and sex, sex as manipulation

“They’re fucking hilarious, you won’t even believe what they said—Sangyeon said, raising Younghoon was the greatest pleasure of his life. Can you believe that?”

“Imagine if he loses all of his son’s respect,” you say. “All those good-dad points, gone.”

“Let’s make this a challenge: if you still haven’t fucked him after three tries, I’ll happily give up, admit he’s a good dad, and let him marry my mother. If you succeed though… you’d be the greatest seductress in the world, and I—I will be over the moon.”

You quirk an eyebrow up at him, but he already knows he’s got you—Sunwoo always gets you. “Deal.”

W.c.: 11.5k

There was little to hear but the slapping sounds of Sunwoo’s pelvis against your hips, and whenever you got a little too loud, he would grab and bunch up the hair on the back of your head, and push your face down into the mattress—in one of 8 bedrooms in a house with a giant lawn, where no one was around to hear, anyway. He just loved to hear your muffled screams, head buried under his pillows. It sounded tortured. He liked it.

Usually you’d talk. Even if dirty-talking got too old and cringey for you, you’d at least talk about something, a praise from him (“Yeah, that’s my pretty, dirty little slut”) or a request (“tell me you love my cock”/”harder!”) but there were no words spoken today, and there was nothing but his borderline erotic grunts, and your pornographic moans, which you stressed more because you wanted to impress him. “Yes, Sunwoo, yes, please!”

You don’t even know if there’s a smile gracing his features, or if it’s a dead, solemn-toned stare in his eyes. His thrusts are hard, though, an aggression you’ve only seen when he’s cursing at 13-year-olds ingame.

Sunwoo pulls out to finish on your back, after which he just lets go of your legs and plop you back down into the mattress like you were a lifeless doll. You wait for the urgent, fervent kiss on your face which you knew well, because that’s what he always does, but this time he’s not so in the mood. And he, panting, lies face up on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. The bliss of those who actually get to finish—you didn’t, though.

“Sunwoo,” you called after he was done catching his breath and you had cleaned up in the bathroom adjacent, “can I sit on your face, please?”

There was a vindictive strength to his thrusts as he was fucking you, and now, watching him in his little world, you thought he looked… preoccupied. If only you didn’t know Kim Sunwoo so well. “Sunwoo,” you called, again: “please?” With one hand guiding his fingers to your cunt, you asked: “please touch me here?”

“Sangyeon. Fucking Sangyeon,” Sunwoo mumbled to himself.

You gave up, the need to get off suddenly gone, replaced by perplexity. You were a bit offended that his mind was on other issues when you were entirely devoted with an arched back on all fours so he could have a better time. All the things you do for him, and… “You’re thinking about that doctor when you’re fucking me!?” Lee Sangyeon—if that’s who Sunwoo’s talking about—was the new doctor at the university clinic, and was making himself quite a name for his looks. You don’t know why Sunwoo would even think of him when you’re trying to make love, though.

“My mom’s new boyfriend,” Sunwoo says with emphasis, “I just don’t like the looks of that guy. He popped the question, just like, 5 months after their blind date.”

“Popped the question, like asked her to be his girlfriend? After 5 months? I kind of like—”

“Asked her to marry him,” Sunwoo clarified.

You gasp, genuinely scandalized. “In 5 months. Without even knowing each other before.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Sunwoo harmonized with you, “and you know my mom’s rich from the settlements, I bet the minute he saw our house, he decided he would propose. And she’s fucking rejoicing that I’m going to have ‘a father’, for ‘once in my life’, when I’m here seething thinking about that fucking swindler. I’m looking out for my mom.”

You looked up into Sunwoo’s giant brown eyes, sympathetic. Sunwoo generally didn’t say many good things about his parents, so you always assumed they weren’t close, but here he was… “Aww, Sunwoo,” you say.

“I have reason to think he’s scamming us, okay? He’s been married before—to another woman, with another son—Kim Younghoon—he studies acting at our uni—what kind of dick studies acting? They’re fucking hilarious, you won’t even believe what they said—Sangyeon said, raising Younghoon was the greatest pleasure of his life. Can you believe that?”

“Imagine if he loses all of his son’s respect,” you say. “All those good-dad points, gone.”

“Can’t you help me?” Sunwoo says in a whine, and you laugh it off.

“Me?! How would I do that?”

“If they move in, we can’t fuck as loud anymore. We won’t even be able to fuck in the livingroom, because Younghoon will be practising his stupid scripts.”

You turn to him with a smile, and you see his eyes are trailing down the valley of your breasts, no subtlety anywhere to them. “Well why didn't you say so? Now I’ll be rooting for your mom to not marry this ‘Mr. Lee’.”

“Rooting?” Sunwoo scoffed. “You can’t just offer support and not do anything, when this is a situation that obviously demands your expertise.”

“Mine?” you ask suddenly. “What do you mean? I don’t even know them.”

“Exactly. They don’t know you know me. Which is the reason you’re the perfect person to do this.” Sunwoo inches close to you, whispering into your ear: “You ruin Lee Sangyeon’s life for me, from the inside out. Ruin everything Sangyeon has—and then he leaves my mom, his son hates him, the wedding is off, and we…” He intertwined both his hands with yours, like children playing a game, although you guess that’s exactly what this was. “We can fuck as loud as we want, whenever we want, wherever we want.”

You scoff. “As if we couldn’t just rent a love hotel.”

“You know you love the water pressure in our master bath better.” When you still weren’t convinced, Sunwoo went another direction: “fine, let’s make this a challenge: if you still haven’t fucked him after three tries, I’ll happily give up, admit he’s a good stepdad, and let him marry my mother. If you succeed though… you’d be the greatest seductress in the world, and I—I will be over the moon.”

You quirk an eyebrow up at him, but he already knows he’s got you—Sunwoo always gets you. “Deal.”

He hoists you up from your waist, and lets you sit on his chest, where you’re locking eyes with him. “You can ride my face now.”

.

.

.

You knew you had little luck trying to seduce him in his own clinic in the daytime, but you thought you’d just first introduce yourself to the doctor, then worm your way into his life. Like a parasite—a parasite who knows everything about their host it’s got almost national-security level information gathering.

You wear your worst high-heels to school on this day, high heels that some distant aunt bought you for your birthday, two sizes bigger than yours, with heels that looked like a breakage liability. You have hated these heels since forever, so it’s not a bad feeling when you fall on your tracks, in the middle of your friend group.

You did fall for real, although on purpose, and it did hurt, but it didn’t hurt that much, or as much as you were screaming about it. Still, your friends crowded around you, one brave Lee Hyunjae scooping you up in his arms into the uni clinic. Perfect job, and you didn’t even need to walk.

You couldn’t seduce him if you weren’t alone, so you send the well-wisher friends off once you enter the clinic, feigning concern that they would be late for their classes.

“It’s fine! You have business law—you need to go to this lecture, remember?!” You patted Hyunjae’s shoulders as you marched him out of the glass doors. “Go, go, I’ll be fine! Call you later!”

Once Hyunjae was gone, you fix your clothes, and then your hair in the full-length mirror in front of the doctor’s office—pulling your skirt even higher up your waist so the skin of your thigh between the skirt and the knee-length socks showed, skin that usually distracts men. The uni clinic isn’t busy, it’s quiet. The receptionist at the front was at lunch, so you count your lucky stars as you walk in—if the doctor is in, you could spend a good amount of time alone together, him tending to your foot.

You knock the door just seconds before you open it without warning. “Doctor Lee, I think I sprained—” you stop in your tracks; there is someone sitting in a doctor’s coat on the desk, but he looks way too young to be a doctor, and also, you know what Sangyeon looks like. This guy looks nothing like him. “Um… you’re not—”

“Sprained ankle?!” The boy stands up to greet you, wordlessly guiding you to sit on the bed. “Don’t worry, I know just what the procedure is—the doctor is out, he’s about to get married and it’s just… busy stuff… lunch with his fiance…”

“Oh,” you say, disappointed, dressed up for nothing.

“But it’s fine!” The faux doctor in the coat says. “Dad says if you can still walk, it’s probably not that serious, so I couldn’t make it worse if I tried. I mean, I think I know enough about non-broken bones…” He pulled out a heat balm patch from the drawers. “You just stick one of these on, don’t you?”

“You’re Younghoon,” you say softly. Sunwoo didn’t mention his new stepbrother was a tall, past-six-feet, carved-by-the-love-goddess-handsome hottie. The kind of boy you would see on magazine covers when you were a kid, the type to stand out even in a sea of other hot people.

He looked up at you, confused. “Uh, how did you—”

Rushing to cover up your blurted mistake, you say quickly: “you’re famous. You’re in the screen-acting class, right? Everybody talks about how handsome you are.”

Although he tried to be bashful, the pride showed. What a loser, you thought to yourself. Easy to impress with a thought train that easily derailed. The perfect little fool.

Younghoon worked patiently at your foot, first taking the sock off tenderly, then pasting the patch on, and then—holy shit, he’s got a crush on you now doesn’t he? —massaging your leg. You don’t shy away, though, because it feels good. Attention from a guy that looks like him always feels good.

Younghoon makes you laugh with a small joke. He tries to pass himself off as a disaster masquerading as a doctor, but you know he only pretended to treat you because your injury was small, and also, he likes you. Any other patient, he would have redirected to the waiting room.

You hold eye contact with him for a longer time that it could be considered romantic. As he helps you put your sock back on, he sees your heel, broken from your staged fall, and digs out sliders from a closet in the office.

“We got these for free, with the hand sanitizers,” he says, “you can keep it—and also have a bottle, if you want.”

You mumble your thanks shyly, you thought he’d like that type of girl, the shy, agreeable, innocent type.

Younghoon actually helps you slip the sliders on. “There we go…” He looks up at you from his position on the floor, like Prince Charming helping Cinderella with the glass shoe.

“Can I take you out sometime?” Younghoon asked.

You’re surprised, although not so much—you were used to guys asking you out, it’s just… You didn’t think it would be Younghoon. “Um,” you say, “...where?”

“Ice cream? Or some cold noodles? You pick.”

Ah, so a small date. It’s funny, Younghoon is older than Sunwoo but asks you out like he’s a sixteen-year-old. Sunwoo takes you out on real dates, at real restaurants—with the reputation and platinum card of his mother getting him in everywhere, but Younghoon…

You actually did want a small meal like cold noodles. “Yeah,” you say. “Sounds great, actually.”

“Great! Call yourself from my phone!” He handed you his Samsung, and you typed your number in and called until the ringing sound resounded through the quiet clinic. Younghoon grinned.

“Great! I’ll text you, so text me back, okay?”

.

.

“What do you mean, you didn’t even see him?” Sunwoo demanded. “You didn’t even try?”

“Calm down, I’ll get him next time,” you say.

“New plan,” Sunwoo says, “what if you make Younghoon fall in love with you, but still seduce Sangyeon—then when Younghoon finds out his dad was bumping uglies with the girl he loves—he loses all respect for him, Sangyeon’s proudest moments turn to ash. Doesn’t that sound… optimal?”

“I don’t think I can,” you mumble sadly.

“Of course you can!” Sunwoo grows discomposed. “You’ve got the loser tripping over his two feet in love with you.”

“What if I’m not the type to fall in love with? What if all men want from me is sex?” It’s what you use me for, you think, looking at Sunwoo, but don’t say it. Sunwoo loved you—as a friend. There was no hint of love in the way he treated you, and you wanted something different: you wanted him to sacrifice the world for you, but sometimes it seemed Sunwoo couldn’t even sacrifice his free time to hang out.

But he scoffs. “You can’t possibly hope I’d make you feel better about that. Listen, let Younghoon prove this to you—you can totally make someone fall in love with you, starting with him.”

You crawl on his lap to kiss, but he shoots you down by pushing you back with one finger. “I don’t think so, focus on your powers of seduction.”

“But Sunwoo, I need you,” you whined, usually that gets you everywhere with him. You reach for the buckle of his belt, but he pries your hands off of him.

“You’re pent up,” he corrected you, “it’s good. Use that. No release until you fuck Doctor Lee.”

.

You decided this time, you’d get actual insight on how to seduce Sangyeon. You weren’t sold on the idea of using Younghoon to further ruin his life, but he was useful.

Younghoon orders himself a small side dish while paying for your more expensive one, no matter how much you insist you’d pay for yourself. “I was looking forward to this,” he says excitedly, which… if only you weren’t wearing that skirt when you first met him. Now he’s hooked.

To get him into talking about his family, you talk about yours first. And then you switch it to him: “and your parents? How were they when you said you wanted to study acting?”

“My mom died when I was a kid,” Younghoon says. “Well, I wasn’t that young, I remember her well—Sangyeon—Doctor Lee—has been the only dad I’ve ever known, we really had a good five or six years together, before my mom passed…”

Dead ex-wife. You mark that down mentally—so Sangyeon’s probably sentimental…

“But I was always acting in plays and helping at the theater since I was a kid,” Younghoon continued, “It’s always been my dream—Sangyeon already saw it coming, I didn’t shock him with the career choice or anything.”

“Hoon,” you call, “Speaking of the man, does your dad… golf or watch sports or something? What does he do?”

“He does… doctor stuff,” Younghoon answered. Great. Doctor stuff! How insightful. “And he watches the Korean national team when they play.” AMAZING INSIGHT, YOUNGHOON! You feel like ripping out your hair, and this innocent-girl persona you have to wear around Younghoon is killing you. You want Sunwoo to fuck you so bad, but he’s literally witholding sex from you, and you’re so pent up you could pounce on someone. But this is the first date with Younghoon and you can’t—ughhhhh.

You miss Sunwoo. He’s the only one that could ever make you feel good.

“Oh!” Younghoon perked up, like he just had an epiphany. “If you’re wondering about my dad, he goes to that one bar a lot, the night before off days.”

Your eyes light up. “Where?!” if you nail this, Sunwoo stops stressing about the wedding, and life can be like normal again…

.

Attempt #1 (the real one)

This should be the bar.

Actually, there’s no doubt about it. It’s the classic middle-aged doctor bar. You’re surprised it isn’t teeming with Sangyeon-lookalikes, but it fits perfectly. The worst part of it was how classy it seemed, being here alone, dressed skimpily and sitting at the bar makes you look like you’re scoping men out.

As expected, all these ‘classy’ men just want a chance with you, doctors and lawyers and nepotism CEOs introducing themselves to you, one by one—which would be a good deal, if only you weren’t already in love with your best friend but also on a mission to seduce his step father. You ignore all proposals and drink offers until your target enters the bar, an exasperated sigh accompanying his entrance. “Cherry on the rocks. Thanks.”

You’re enough into drinking culture to know that’s too fun of an order for a normal doctor, but you let your hair curtain your face and just focus on your drink.

You’re wearing the pink little tweed skirt that renders Sunwoo thoughtless, and the dim yellow wall-lights of the bar are enough to light the whiteness of your top aglow. You keep nursing your drink, until it’s clear Sangyeon’s not here to make conversation.

You excuse yourself, sliding down the bill plus the tip on the wooden table top, and go to the rest rooms, where you slowly make your appearance seem disheveled, first wiping at your eye until the makeup is streaming, then your lipstick, then pulling at your clothes so it didn’t set right. Then, you go over to the doctor, and ask if you could just talk to him, voice shaking so you look unsettled.

“Did someone hurt you?” Sangyeon asks in concern when you’re in the parking lot. Now changing your demeanor, you just shake your head with a smile.

“I’m just trying to sober up,” you say. “Can you take me somewhere? Safe?”

“Someone scared you, didn’t they?” Sangyeon grows concerned, it’s your first time being so close to the doctor and every worried crease on his face and the crow’s feet on his eyes just suggests he’s simply a kind man. “If you want to sober up, let’s go get juice at the konbini—”

“Nooo,” you whine, insisting: “Somewhere quiet.” Your hand hooked at the first button on his shirt, trailing down the skin. “Your car.”

Sangyeon doesn’t seem to realize the subtext, as he agrees. His car is nice, obviously, he’s a doctor—he lets you in, and you crawl into the backseat, little skirt flying up—just when you sheepishly pretend to fix it, you realize Sangyeon’s eyes haven’t ever wrongly trailed down your legs or even up them once. It seemed as if you being drunk and impaired made him even more respectful towards you.

“You’re a student, aren’t you?” Sangyeon asks, “Do you want me to drive you to the dorms? Or do you live away from our housing?”

You sighed, like you’re tired from your aching head, but it’s really to stall time, trying to think of your next move. You weren't going to ask him to take you back to his—there’s really no basis to that, and you just met. Something told you Sangyeon isn’t the type to take advantage of drunk girls, so you bide your time, head lazily resting on the car seat. “Can I just stay here? Sober up in the car?”

“Alright,” Sangyeon says, lifting your two feet up so you fit in the backseat. He slams the door shut. “I’ll wait out here—I’ll put the heater on, okay?”

Is this guy a saint or something? you text Sunwoo under the seat, and rest your head back on the headrest; you were feigning tipsiness. Eventually Sangyeon does drive you back to your apartment, and you thank him endlessly. Stupid good man.

.

There’s a giant box of chocolates laid on your desk for your first class. A note attached: had fun at our date❤text me! —YH

Sunwoo still won’t talk to you if it’s not about his recent obsession, so you take any ounce of attention from Younghoon as you can get. You don’t even know how often you’ve been hanging out until it’s 5 a.m. on a weekday and the two of you were still on the phone with each other, talking about all kinds of aspects of life, and also about video games and internet culture. Younghoon wasn’t just a nice distraction, he was also a good friend—although something told you he probably doesn’t want to be just that.

“This is our fifth date,” Younghoon said proudly one night in the street tteokbokki stall. “Seventh, if you count the zoom calls.”

Yeah, you’re fucked.

You see the father-son duo on campus after that, walking together through the grassy knoll during lunch break. You’re sitting with your friends as you looked at them pass by.

“Are you looking at Kim Younghoon?” Juyeon, from your friend group, asks.

You almost roll your eyes—you didn’t have an iota of interest in either man so you wouldn’t look at them if your life depended on it. You just needed to know that man you’re seducing—and apparently your efforts are deflecting.

“Just don’t forget us when he’s a hot-shot actor and you’re living in a mansion together.”

.

You can’t even begin to explain to Sunwoo that his future father is absolutely uninterested in you, even in skimpy attire. “I was wearing that skirt,” you told him, “the little pink one that makes you thoughtless.”

“Obviously he’s not me,” Sunwoo huffs, “you gotta think like a doctor’s wife.”

“Which your mom is going to be, so should I try out her closet?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Sunwoo flung a pillow at you. “Do I really have to count that as attempt #1? Really?”

“I was totally up for the taking, Sunwoo, and he didn’t bite!”

“Maybe he’s not into that college-girl-flirting-with-grown-ups look. Maybe try something more sophisticated.”

You’re already out the door to his room, going into his mom’s. You throw open the closet—Sunwoo’s mom lets you borrow her clothes from time to time, so it’s not uncommon. Sunwoo trails after you, not understanding. “What are you doing?”

“I’m meeting Younghoon,” you say. “Again. He asked me out again, and I just… I’m doing this so I can know our enemies better.”

“You’re meeting Younghoon?!” Sunwoo asked, shocked. “When?”

“In… fifteen minutes.”

Suddenly Sunwoo was pushing you against the wall, hurriedly peppering you with kisses.

“Sunwoo!—what are you doing?!”

“Gonna mark you up,” Sunwoo says breathily, but you just weren’t feeling seduced. “Gonna fill you with my cum that it’s dripping out of you when you see him.” He captures your unenthusiastic lips in his, and then the wet kiss trails down to your jawline. “Let’s do it on my mom’s bed.”

You push him away with both hands, and he just stares at you like a wounded puppy. “You said I had to use my pent-up frustrations, remember? Don’t break your own rules.”

.

You should have taken the chance, though, if only you weren’t too prideful and furtive about getting him back in his own game. When you arrive at Younghoon’s door, you’re horny, dying for just some friction between your legs, and seeing Younghoon’s eager puppy-faced smile made you want him so badly—he’s tall, with long fingers. You knew he could just tear you apart. “I’m so glad you’re here!” he says. “I picked a movie already—I hope you don’t mind—it’s supposed to be good!”

“It’s whatever,” you say passively, before realizing you were supposed to be seducing him, so you force yourself to smile. “It’ll be great, I’m sure I’d love any film you picked!” But he noticed your sulleness prior.

“Is something wrong?” he finally asked, about half an hour into the movie. You’re fidgety and distracted, and every time you cross your legs there’s this… insatiable desire, in the form of skin rubbing against more skin. “Did you not want to come here today?”

“No,” you say passively. Younghoon starts to ramble (is it because i picked a movie without telling you? I’m sorry, is it because you don’t like movies on dates? I’m sorry, is it because my apartment is weird? I was trying to get the cheapest—), you roll your eyes at every apology, pull him in by the collar. “Younghoon, it’s—this.” As Younghoon kept rambling with apologies, you lean over the couch and kiss him, right on the lips, leaving behind a perfect lipstick print when you pull away.

Younghoon chuckled, relieved. “Were you nervous about our first kiss?!” He plants new ones on your lips, over and over again. “That’s so cute! I wanted to kiss you so bad, too!” He plants small kisses on your cheeks, then travels down to your throat and collarbone, and you fix your blouse for him so he could get closer, more access. But when you move yourself to sit on his lap, he freezes, one hand still up your bra.

“Um.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He’s semi-showing, you can tell, from the tent in his sweatpants, and you’re so ‘pent up’ as Sunwoo calls it, you’d do anything for Younghoon to be in you.

“What’s wrong?” you ask softly, still maintaining your sweet demeanor, but you’re asking so the problem could be solved and you could just fuck—fast.

“It’s just, I’m—I’ve never—” Younghoon was struggling with his words, as if he were bound in his tongue. You understand what he means in a few moments. “Really?” is what you ask, half in shock.

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he says sadly.

“You don’t disappoint me.”

“Feels like I already did,” Younghoon huffs, putting his hands over his eyes to cover his face. “By having such a big reputation as an actor and yet being a virgin. You must be disappointed.”

You wish you were getting paid for this, because comforting a big man on still being a virgin was nowhere in your bucketlist, and, also, it’s almost too strange that you thought he had to be acting. But you felt fooled by the emotions in his eyes, although you correct yourself: he’s training to be an actor, of course he has expressive eyes.

You still feel like you’re being fooled, because why would someone like Younghoon be a virgin…? Still, if he’s playing a character, you’re playing a character too. “I am too,” you say, tone insistent that he stops shying away so much.

Younghoon’s eyes suddenly filled with a sudden surprise. “Oh, my God! Really?!” He makes sure there’s space between the two of you, and for extra measure, digs out a blanket and wraps you up in it, as if you had just told him of a deep trauma. “I’m so sorry, I should ask next time! I can’t believe I touched you like that, when—”

“Younghoon,” you say, “I’m just waiting on the right person… Do you think you’re the right person?”

Receiving every implication, Younghoon gulps down on a dry throat, eyes trailing down your clavicle. “Someday,” he says.

You pull him in so he could fall into you, softly, hands pinned on either side of you, but he’s on top and he doesn’t know what to do. “Younghoon, if we can’t do ‘it’ today, can you at least…” you guide his hand to your crotch, which he’s hesitant about. “Can we do this? With your mouth?”

“N–no, I…” He’s not making sense with words but the answer is no.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You know who would actually eat you out, no questions asked? Sunwoo. But Sunwoo’s too stressed to fuck you, and whose fault was that? This father and son.

Younghoon huffed, again, very cutely but you don’t care. “Let’s just kiss in my bed again,” he says, hand already snaking up your shirt. “I want you to be ready for it, okay? I want us both to be ready for it, but tonight isn’t the night.” You finally get the chance to roll your eyes when he kisses you with closed eyes, lips soft but obviously inexperienced.

You kiss him back, pushing him into the mattress and your tongue snaked out into his mouth, and he just welcomes it, but in an innocent way, like he was expecting it but not at the same time.

But whenever things get too hot, he would pull away, smile at you sheepishly, talk about something else, like an audition he’s trying out for or a script he’s reading. You fell asleep in his bed, in his arms, and somewhere beyond the realm of sleep you could feel him kissing your forehead, and then the bed losing the pressure on his side of the bed—he’d gone to sleep in the livingroom.

.

Attempt #2

Forget that you have a weird relationship with his son. Forget that his future stepson was scheming for you to ruin his marriage. The real question is, where the fuck does Lee Sangyeon get off?

You’ve come into the clinic, you’ve passed by him, with the tiniest skirts that accidentally and inevitably lifted up enough to see your even prettier, tear-worthy panties, and you know everyone else stared, but not him. Maybe he really is in love. But there’s a tactic you haven’t tried before.

Attempt #2 is all about influencing him. As a psychology book you skimmed through but never read once said, people are interested in themselves, never in you.

You’re about to talk the pants off Doctor Sangyeon.

You feign an urgency about your sprained foot, and enter the office, almost into after-hours, and if he recognizes you as the girl from the bar, you’re just going to fake ignorance.

Sangyeon greets you, and asks you for your name and student identity, but as he checks up on your foot, gently, you ease him into conversation.

“You moved just under a year ago,” you said to the doctor, “why our uni?”

“My son was going to school here, and when I saw they were looking for a new clinic doctor—I like supporting Younghoon, being close to him. He’s my pride and joy—I'd support him, even if I had to give up my position at a big hospital.”

“Aww!” you gushed, “And what about your new house? Did you find a nice place?”

“I live in the terraces, on 4th street,” Sangyeon answered, “my son lives in his own apartment–he wouldn’t be caught dead with his dad!”

Alright, you’re getting somewhere, he’s making jokes, you’re alone, this is better than last time.

“So why did you decide to get married?” you finally asked. “I’m actually an acquaintance of Mrs. Kim’s son—he told me you proposed.”

“Well, I met her, and I felt—” When he turns back to you from the clipboard, you’ve discarded your jacket to the side of the bed, and the blouse you borrowed is tight, just the perfect shade of a nude pink that it brings out your skin tone… and your very apparent nipples.

Sangyeon stuttered, his eyes traveling down your neckline, staring at the flimsy white fabric—he could see everything, you knew that. Your little silver pendant dangled from your neck, but the charm disappeared under the little camisole. You know Sangyeon’s staring. You know he’s panting about where that little silver charm goes, the depths he’ll never comprehend unless he’s lifting up your filmsy little silk layer with his hands and saw everything for himself.

“Th—that’s just like my fiance’s,” Sangyeon finally says. “The… blouse…”

You had, indeed, ‘borrowed’ it from Sunwoo’s mom. But he doesn’t need to know that. Slyly, you muster up a grin. “I guess I just am the type of woman you like, Dr. Lee…” Your arms would have snaked around his shoulders so he could kiss you, but you don’t know if he would kiss you back, so you don’t. You wait.

But Sangyeon pulls away and is back to smiling like nothing’s wrong. “Y/N, you’re a friend of my son, aren’t you?”

Flabbergasted, you stare up at him with a dropped jaw. What the hell?

“There hasn’t been a dinner these past weeks that Younghoon doesn’t talk about you—he mentioned your foot injury, I had an idea it was you—if anything, he understated your good looks.”

“Younghoon—” you start. You’re meant to be talking about your blouse to him. About what’s under it. You’re meant to be knee-deep in doctor dick right now, and he wants to talk about his son?

“I’m glad Younghoon likes you, Y/N, you’re a sweet girl.”

You have to tell Sunwoo the new attempt was a failure. As you walk home that evening, your phone pings with iMessage chats.

It’s Younghoon. You’re over it, Sunwoo is the one you wanted to talk to, but you open the chat, and it’s a photoset of him with a poodle. “I’m dog-sitting for Bori lol,” was the caption. He’s infuriating, how much he thinks he’s being cute or coy respecting your conversation. You text Sunwoo, but he doesn’t reply. You guess you’ll just have to wait for the next time he feels he needs you.

.

“HE ASKED ME TO BE HIS BESTMAN!” Sunwoo yells into the phone. He’s angry, you’ve heard him like this before, and it’s always entertaining, especially when you’re not physically around him. “I asked him, ‘what about your son,’ and he said, ‘you’re both my sons now’—and that idiot Younghoon SMILED at me and AGREED. Fuck. FUCK! Fuck, Y/n, please. Please fucking nail that guy so I can get him out of our lives already, please. Tell me you’re close.”

“Aren’t you just resenting father figures because of your own failed relationship with your father?” you probed. “Maybe you just need to give Daddy Sangyeon a chance.”

“You took a semester in psych, we get it!”

“Ah, but my psych knowledge is what’s going to save you,” you tell Sunwoo. “You see, I’ve tried to seduce him—first with my body, second by playing to his interests, which is something I learnt in psych—people want to talk about their interests, not about yours—but the third try might work: playing his heartstrings. Make him vulnerable and then—” you made a sound with your tongue clicking the top of your mouth, and Sunwoo just sighs on the other end. “I mean, if Sangyeon actually doesn’t fuck me after this, you have to give up and admit he’s a good father.”

“I will,” Sunwoo says. “If he isn’t even half tempted by you, then he must be some kind of saint. I’ll let him marry my mother.” There was a pause. You knew he was hoping that day wouldn’t come. “But Y/N, you actually have to try super hard this time, or it doesn’t count.”

Sangyeon’s heart was basically an impenetrable fortress, and you almost came to the conclusion that maybe he didn’t like girls as young as his son—but you stop your train of thought there, no, Y/n, you can’t doubt yourself, there are no such men—every man in the world wants a hot young piece at his side. Every single one. You can’t just start questioning your life because Dr. Sangyeon rejected you twice.

If Sunwoo was preparing to call you the greatest seducer on this planet, you had to up the game.

Attempt #3. Sangyeon’s shift ends at 5:30. So if you catch him at 5:28… he’d have no choice but to stay overtime, have the nurses go home before him, and you’d have him all alone.

“Doctor Lee?” you asked, head peaking into the office. “Hi, I’m… supposed to have a check-up on my foot?”

“Y/N!” Sangyeon beamed at you. “Come in, this might be just your last visit—Hoonie mentioned you’re walking well again.”

Fucking Younghoon, you cursed to yourself. If he told Sangyeon he likes you, there’s no way Sangyeon will fuck you. But still, you needed to count on your flower power. You entered the room, smiling at him, and asked that he check on your sprained foot, sorry that you’re so late, you just came from the library and lost track of time.

As he checked your foot, you talked about private things, things that could make a grown man cry. “So you’re getting married—don’t you ever miss Younghoon’s mom?”

“Younghoon’s mom…” Sangyeon sighed as the memory seeped into his recollections. “She was beautiful—you’ve seen Younghoon, he gets her looks. I was one year into residency when I met her, and Younghoon was three—so tiny, could only say a few words. I had to work a lot to get him to remember me because I was too busy at the hospital.”

“You’re such a good father, the way you treat him like your own son,” you say. Sangyeon beamed, a bright, side smile. You almost roll your eyes; jesus, was this entire family just so full of praise-thirsty narcissists? “Tell me more about his mom.”

Sangyeon goes on a babble about the golden days with his late wife, the way they raised their little son together, how they became a family, how Younghoon slowly trusted him—all the while, touching you, not in the way you wanted, but soon.

Or so you thought. But the checkup is done and he still hasn’t done anything, not even when you play with the buttons of his shirt and seductively or wave your crossed legs up and down so he could see the color of your panties. This was hopeless… you thought your third attempt was soon over, until you’re walking out of the building with Sangyeon, and it’s pouring, giant fat droplets of rain falling and making rather violent sounds of impact against the roofs and windshields.

This is perfect. Even the weather is on your side. Trying to fool Sangyeon, you tell him you’ll walk to your apartment and immediately ran into the rain, backpack swinging behind you, knowing he will come run after you, no doubt to it.

Soon enough, you hear him call for you. “Y/n! Wait!”

You turn around innocently. “Doctor Lee…?”

“Get in my car,” he says. “You’re not walking, come on.”

Acting bashful, you slowly get in, apologizing that you were so wet. He didn’t seem to catch the subtext. You’re sitting in the backseat, frustratingly so close yet far away from him, and anyway he’s not trying anything–okay, new plan.

“Oh, shit,” you curse, loud enough that he hears you. “Fuck!”

“What is it?”

“I just—I think I dropped my house keys,” you say as you take the keys and bury them in a secret compartment of your bag, and then zip it shut. “Fuck… I’m sorry to bother you, Doctor Lee, but do you mind if I just go home with you? I think my roommate is out tonight—I’ll have to contact her some other way.”

Sangyeon agrees, and soon you’re driving through unfamiliar roads to get to Sangyeon’s flat, the Mugunghwa terraces. The rain doesn’t slow, but at least you’re under the garage, the sounds of the rain seemingly so far away now.

Bori greets you at the door, barking excitedly. You scoop the poodle up in your arms, while Sangyeon gets you a towel to dry yourself. He turns the big light on, perfect—your shirt is completely wet, and it’s a white blouse. You smile to yourself when he turns away, trying to distract himself.

“You should change,” Sangyeon starts, walking off to the bedroom to his closet, but you grab his hand, and not let go.

“Let’s have a drink! I’m in the mood for it.”

With a hesitant look, Sangyeon brings out the good scotch for you. Hospitality, and winning your bet—what a treat.

“Tell me,” you tell the older man, just when you know you had his full attention—to garner more of it, you flip the hair over your shoulder, exposing the valley of supple skin that lead up to your breasts, but he could only dare imagine, from the way your blouse snugly covered everything that would definitely send him over the edge. You’re both on your third glasses, and you can’t wait until he’s drunk in you. “Tell me about your life, Dr. Lee, I want to hear all about it. I know you were lonely, left alone to raise Younghoon like that.” He looked hesitant. “Younghoon was 9, when she passed away, wasn’t he?”

“It was…” Sangyeon unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt. “It was difficult. He wouldn’t cry in front of us, but I always heard him sobbing in his room, every single night for years. He’s a good kid, Y/N. He’s so supportive of my new marriage, too…”

You don’t know if he’s mentioning his marriage to remind himself of it, or if you were meant to know he’s spoken for. Well… doesn’t matter to you.

“That must have been terrible,” you tell Sangyeon.

“Well, it was—”

“I mean, no women, just the company of your son? For a full decade?” You can see his eyes trailing down your shorts, and you run your finger over the gleam of the light, right where he was staring. “You must have been so pent up. How did you do it—you must be so good at suppressing your desires.”

“It didn’t seem important—I was a father. I didn’t think women and sex were a priority.”

You guide his hands to hook around your pants, it’s his choice if he wants to pull them off you. Unlike Younghoon, he doesn’t pull away. “It must have been so hard. Are you happy now, with your fiance?” You kneel at his feet, kneading the inside of his thighs until they’re spread for you, and you pull the belt off its buckles slowly. When you throw it over your shoulder, it lands with a clink of the metal.

“Y/n,” Sangyeon breathes your name out. “What are you—”

“I’m not telling.” Fingers crossed. “It’s okay, Doctor Lee, you can just let me take you by the reins…” Your fingers popped the last of his buttons off one by one, until you’re looking at his white singlet underneath. “There, doesn’t it feel good?”

He looks conflicted, and you have a hunch he won’t do it—and if he won’t, then you still win, Sunwoo’s got a good step dad, so…

“We can’t,” Sangyeon says. “Y/n—”

“Younghoon’s a grown-up now, Doctor Lee,” you say softly, inching closer towards him on the couch. “You can choose to prioritize to not suppress yourself anymore.” You’re standing on your knees next to him, as you whisper your next words:

“You can choose me.”

You don’t even know what happened, because suddenly you’re on his lap, he’s kissing you, his hands are on your collar, and before you know to protest, he tears the blouse into two parts, buttons popping off with the sounds of the threads ripping filling the room.

He seems to have become numb to such sounds, as he’s continuing to kiss you, fervently like a mad man. You’re about to gloat that you won, Sunwoo’s right, the wedding isn’t happening—but Sangyeon bites down on your skin between kisses, and all that comes out of you is a loud moan, more dramatic than you’re used to showing with Sunwoo.

The pearl buttons of your blouse scattered on the floor as Sangyeon’s feverishly hot mouth feels every part of you, throat to collarbone to cleavage. His hand was inside your panties, while his other hand supported you from the small of your back.

You start grinding on his crotch, the way you know boys like. Sangyeon simply grunts at the friction, but he bucks his hips up, wordlessly begging for more.

Your lip gloss is all over his collar and face, and the glitter catches the light and shines—it’s all over his eyelids, from you kissing him. You admire your handy work, pulling away, and he stares back at you, before he carries you—legs wrapped around his torso, strong arms securing you close to his chest. You encircle the legs tighter around him, and he grunts, you must feel so small next to him right now.

Sangyeon lays you down in the bedroom, which was good enough, kept clean, a queen-sized bed. A doctor’s bedroom.

“Is this the marriage bed?” you ask. Has he fucked his fiance here?

“She’s never been here,” he answered. “We’re—we don’t want to disturb her son, and I didn’t have the heart to bring her back here.”

So they haven’t done it. No wonder Sangyeon’s so fucking easy, a few drinks down and now all over you. He just needed the right connection. You giggle, you’re in control now—ruined blouse discarded, you’re the only object of his attention, and you tilt your head to the side, feeling his eyes on you, throat to naval.

He’s speechless for a bit, which you find fucking hilarious.

Slowly, you let him crawl up your body, straddling you with his firm thighs on both sides of you—you run your hand up the flesh, no wonder people go crazy for that—then your eyes flicker back towards him, shaky pupils. He’s a little drunk, but he’s a grown up that drinks straight occasionally. If he cheats, it’s a decision.

And to Sunwoo’s pleasure. You realize what you’re doing is just let Sunwoo use your body, in another way—as Sangyeon’s mouth attaches to your bare chest, his arms wrapped around your waist, tonguing lapping at your nipple as if it could kiss back. Faking a moan, you buck your hips up towards him. You’re not so into him, but you’re dying to see what’s under those tailor-fitted outfits.

So you take your chance as soon as he’s lifted himself off you to gawk—first those legs, the sizable, delicious thighs, then his arms, as he hurriedly pulls his shirt off of him. Every part of that body was just beautiful, tan as if carved out of pure gold carats. You’re clenching around on nothing, as you say: “daddy…”

He likes that. As much as Sunwoo would have hated to call him that, Sangyeon likes it. He takes his dilf job very seriously. With a giggle, you kick off the last of your clothing and welcome him in.

So he’s into that, you think to yourself, when Sangyeon grabs both your legs from the feet and hang it over his shoulder, giving him more space and leverage, more grip—with a grunt, he supports himself on the headboard, but you don’t even have the capacity to worry about breaking the bed when he enters you.

Eyes rolled back to your head, all you feel is him, not even the bed moving, or any of the other sensations: just him, hard and deep in you, experienced, knowing, hot. You swear, you’re the one being played when he hits the right parts of you, except of course—Sangyeon doesn’t know you’re here to ruin his life for what it is.

“Tell daddy how much you want him,” he says, hips stuttering and then completely stopping, pulled out of you. A sadistic streak. “Tell me, come on…”

“Please,” you gasp, hands grasping at the sheets as if you had something chaining your body down, when really all this pressure you felt was from the libido. You gasp for air, realizing you had been holding your breath—usually Sunwoo chokes you for this stuff… The lack of air in you gets you sputtering and clenching around his cock, until you’re fucked out and mewling in his arms.

But Sangyeon isn’t Sunwoo. “Daddy,” you whined—he likes that, as you could see his gaze get hotter on you. You can’t wait to tell Sunwoo. “Daddy, I want your fat cock so fucking bad. I want your cock, please, daddy? Please give it to me?”

Sangyeons hands suddenly grip at the nape of your neck, just for leverage, but he looks concentrated, although his head is a little hazy from the liquor. His eyes flicker to yours and then back to your pussy, watching himself enter in real life like a porn POV.

“I love it, daddy!” you scream, this time upping the ante, just so he gets closer to his finish. You’re here for a bet, but it genuinely feels good. You feel his pelvis against your clit with every thrust, and anyway you don’t even need that stimulation, because his cock in you is already everything. You’re already quivering and spasming around him.

“Daddy’s gonna—ah, fuck,” Sangyeon stuttered out between breaths. “Inside.”

Mid-moan, you shake your head. You don’t even need to articulate it verbally for Sangyeon to know exactly how you want it, he simply gets out of you and shoots his cum onto your stomach. You hear a sigh and a gasp as he’s finally allowed to release, and you smile to yourself, feeling the bed dip at your feet. Mission successful.

Mr. Lee cleans you off well, the kind of aftercare you’ve never had from boys your age. It’s only midnight, but you feign tiredness, and Sangyeon’s actually tired from a whole work day, so he lets you sleep in his bed, wordlessly accepting your presence.

You lie awake after that, not because you didn’t feel right about what you did, but because you’re so fucking excited to tell Sunwoo you’ve done it.

Sangyeon sleeps easily, although if he only knew what you were doing with him, he would always sleep with one eye open. You stay until dawn rises, awake with excitement, wondering what Sunwoo must be doing—but still not texting him, you’re afraid Sangyeon will see the conversation on your screen. Bad people have terrible consciences. You do, however, have the guts to take a selfie with him asleep, when the sun had come up and through the curtains.

You leave at dawn, and right before you’re out the door, you swipe Sangyeon’s identity card and lanyard from the hanger beside the door. Now you’ll have proof.

You go to his front door camera, where some poor security guy must be watching for the whole housing unit. You flash a peace sign at the camera, and then do another pose, where you’re flaunting the hickies on your neck, and your blouse with the torn-out buttons, the ripped stocking on your thighs. All the while staring the camera down like you’re lipsyncing in a music video.

For your last pose, you bring out Sangyeon’s lanyard, which you had stolen right off his desk, shoving it straight at the camera. Then you decide to leave, but not before blowing the camera a kiss.

You order a taxi to Sunwoo’s, which he rented you—a premium taxi, more expensive than half your rent. All you needed to text Sunwoo was ‘breakthough. Xx.’

He just rings you in with a button when you get to his house, not bothering to come down the stairs. But you find him anyway, in his room, doing absolutely nothing with his back to the door. “So,” he says. “Breakthrough as in he’s swaying, or breakthrough as in there’s evidence you—” He just turned to you, and an almost-confused expression spread through his features.

“He did that?” he asked, pointing at your torn blouse.

You nodded eagerly, pulling out your phone from your bag. You swiped at the screen until the selfie you took in Sangyeon’s bed showed up, presenting it to Sunwoo. Sangyeon’s asleep in it, in the light of the early dawn.

“You can check his terrace security tapes, too,” you told him. “There’s gotta be photos of him bringing me home, and then me leaving like… this.” You gestured at the state of you, the torn leggings and the button-less blouse.

Sunwoo doubles over with laughter, and he turns to you with brand new eyes. “Send it to me,” he says. “All of it.”

Sunwoo wasted no time, throwing open his closet door and helping you change into one of his giant oversized dark hoodies. With the torn stockings, it almost looks like you’re runway-ready.

You get onto his bed, and you thought you saw him a little indignant as he joined you. You reached for him, trying to kiss him. “Now you show them to your mom, and they call off the wedding… and then it’s you and I, forever, Sunwoo. No pesky step brothers disturbing us…” You reached over and tried to kiss him, tongue swiping at his bottom lip before he pulled back.

“You mean he was inside of you?” Sunwoo scoffs, pushing you off of him, but just lightly and into the mattress—but his next words made you recoil in shame, before you even realized you should be angry. “I’m not touching anywhere those two were.”

You scoff in mock horror from lying down next to him, and felt the urgent need to imitate Cain from the bible. “You asked me to—” you start.

“I can’t even imagine touching you after them,” Sunwoo says, “it’s repulsive. Their hands were all over you.”

“But you said—” you stumbled on your words, the anger getting too much in the way. “You said after I do this, we could be together, in every way we wanted.”

“You know what I figured out these days, Y/N? That you’re just a nymphomaniac with a libido and whoever I asked you to fuck, with whatever reason, you’re going to fuck them. I did you a favor by picking out a father-son duo for you to obsess over.”

You glared at him. “I didn’t fuck your stepfather because I had a libido, dumbass, I fucked him because you asked me to.”

“Yeah? What are you going to say next, that you love me or something?”

You would never use those three words. And you couldn’t say it to Sunwoo, because… with him it’s genuine. You mean it when you say it to him. But now you think the time is right to say it. “I… I love you, Sunwoo. I think we’re broken, but we fit perfectly. I’ve been waiting for the day you can finally say you would die for me, because I already made up my mind about that. I would die for you.”

Sunwoo looked away from you. “I think you’re too broken for me.”

.

He didn’t need to kick you out—you would leave before it came to that. Always wanted the last laugh. Now with Sunwoo no longer a friend, you realize you had only one person to turn to. You didn’t dare go to him immediately though; you ignore every text, going MIA—until one day when you realize you need someone, something, just to pamper you and make you feel needed again.

Younghoon’s face spreads with a bright joy as soon as he sees your face, and he pronounces your name so happily like a prayer for good weather. But the bleakness in your eyes don’t allude him. “Are you… are you okay?”

“I need you.” Your hands snake around the back of his neck as you kick the door closed behind you, and Younghoon just takes your kiss sheepishly, not doing anything.

“Younghoon,” you say softly, “I think I’m ready—I was always ready, since I met you.” Devious until your last breath, but you weren’t about to admit to him that you’d been wearing a good-girl mask the whole time. If you told him straight up that his future-stepbrother had rejected you…

He looked at you, eyes suddenly so deep and searching, and, damn, his screen-acting classes are paying off, because all this raw emotion just bubbled in the warm depths of his eyes. “You’re sure?” he asked.

You nodded, taking the initiative to undress your own self, discarding your top on the floor. For a second he gawked at the top, as if it were more interesting than your nakedness. Then his eyes come back to yours. “Wow,” he breathes, and then he closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around you, an attempt to cover you up with his body.

You quickly get his shirt off, and then your own shorts. Kissing leads to lying down on his couch, but there’s no space there—you fall down onto the rug laid in front of the couch, and it’s just soft enough, you could work with this. Younghoon doesn’t even seem to mind you’re on the floor.

“It’ll be both our first times,” Younghoon says giddily, “I promise I won’t disappoint you, alright?”

You nodded, whatever to appease him and get him out of his pants. So he does, shyly rubbing himself in his boxers, but the mere sight of you has him hard, even without the dragged-out foreplay.

When he takes himself out of his boxers, you gawk. Sunwoo’s the only person you’ve been constantly fucking so far, at least with feeling—and with Younghoon that’s different. Plus, he actually liked and respected you. “Don’t worry, I’ll go slow,” he says.

But you didn’t need him to take the lead. Soon he’s lying on his back on the rug, and you’re the one on top, straddling him but also teasing. You still haven’t stripped completely, and Younghoon was the one with his body being toyed with. “Take off your panties,” he whined. “I wanna see you, I wanna be in you.”

You shot a look at him that makes him lose the brattiness immediately. “Does it hurt?” you say raspily, taking over for his own hand in touching him, and he nods breathlessly. “Want me to make it better?” His breath catches.

“You have to get me wet,” you request. “Do you know how?” Younghoon’s a little hesitant, but you wordlessly show him that you just need his fingers, and his two giant hands pull you towards him, legs spread and on either side of him.

“Here?” Younghoon says, voice barely a whisper. His middle finger touched the hot little button of your clit, and you throw your head back and grown, nodding. “Yes, yes.” He can feel your little clit rolling under him, but he doesn’t know how high the pleasure is—not until you’re touching him, too, and the pressure builds up in him.

You tease him slowly, knowing he’s a virgin and might finish before the fun even starts.

Impatient, Younghoon wastes no time in just getting you with the mere flicks of his fingers—although it was working, it was just too little action. He gets down on the rug, and spits at your cunny, then rubs it along your slit, it’s lewd and gets you even more wetter, the weight of your pleasure is coming: you’re wetter than ever, just enough to take him.

He doesn’t even need to ask you, he lays back down and drag you along the length of his legs, up to his crotch. “Wait,” he stops, “we might need—”

“It’s fine,” you say. You had other means of control installed already, ever since Sunwoo and you started fucking. Younghoon doesn’t protest anymore, except he makes a small sigh of relief as you slowly slide onto him. It’s almost just too soft-sounding for his first time, so you giggle a little. “It’s alright, Hoon, you can make any sounds you want.”

“I—” He slips into a loud moan, as you ease around him, feeling your walls from the inside. His moans turn into certain-pitched ‘oh’s as soon as you started to rock yourself on him, riding him. The fun was just beginning, you hadn’t even begun to ride him properly yet.

Like a fair ride gaining momentum, the roll of your hips started to become impossible to comprehend to him, never expecting the next height of pleasure—and yet you still take him there. Younghoon’s head lolls to the side, he’s dizzy, and it doesn’t matter if he has his eyes opened, or closed—he sees those blue-and-yellow lights spinning in his vision, like he’s really riding a rollercoaster.

Your hips collide with his pelvis as harshly and powerfully as they can, and then you collapse on him, arms holding you up as you press both hands down on his bare chest. Younghoon’s still seeing stars and carousel lights, but with the stutter and squirming of his hips, you know he’s almost there, just doesn’t know it.

“You can’t cum yet,” you tell him. “It’s too soon, I know you’re not used to it, but hold on, okay?”

He nods adamantly. Yes, yesyesyes—he doesn’t say anything, too concentrated on holding his pleasure. Eyes closed in complete concentration.

You grasp his face by the cheeks, asking that he looks at you in the eyes, and when he does you see his eyes are clouded over, it’s almost hilarious how much of a dumb little fucked out hentai look he has. “Speak, if you can hear me,” you tell him.

“Will you—” he pants as he says this, he can’t multitask, get out the words he wants to say while still not trying to cum. He takes a moment to squirm again, but can't escape you. “Will you be my girlfriend, Y/n?”

He resumes his thrusts again, and you almost lose all inhibition, it would be inane to not say yes, when he’s playing you this way. “Yes!” You screamed, hands gripping his shoulders. You arch your back and moan again.

“Yes what?!” Younghoon makes you scream this time, this had become an evenly-advantaged game. But his hands snake to the back of your head, bunching up the hair in a fist that it was almost reminiscent of Sunwoo’s fingers, filling you with an indignant longing.

“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend!” you say in-between moans, and it could be heard out the open window. Younghoon stared up at you, satisfied.

“I told you I wouldn’t disappoint you.”

.

You rang the doorbell, standing on the welcome mat before Younghoon’s front door. You knew exactly everything about his apartment now: the extra key on the underside of the mat, where a little pouch was sewed in; the window that didn’t open unless you pushed it a certain way; the half-missing bedframe you had to be careful around. You knew Younghoon so horribly well, from his apartment to his feelings to his body. That you knew the most about, every constellation of moles and secret spots that made him shiver…

You’ve never been so in love before. Although you could say you’re using him as a rebound from Sunwoo, it’s different. You know Younghoon treats you well, better than… him.

It’s been almost 4 months since you last saw Sunwoo, anyway, and you’re thinking maybe he’s changed his mind about ruining his mom’s wedding—it hadn’t happened yet, although it was scheduled to be next month. You don’t know what you’re going to do when Younghoon wants you to be a plus-one at the wedding of the guy you fucked, but you could go on, you could pretend.

But when the door opens, it’s not Younghoon.

“Sunwoo,” you spoke. Then you hear it: three other people, one voice which you recognized to be Mrs. Kim, speaking. From the dining table. You back away slowly, staring in horror at Sunwoo, who only had the same playful glint in his eyes. You knew that look well: when there’s only 2 minutes left in his game and his team is one goal up; when he’s halfway through a race and the others are all only tailing him; when he takes off your panties. Smug, telling. He won. Like always.

“Well come in!” He grabs your hand before you could run away, pulling you into the apartment. “We’re all dying to meet Younghoon’s girlfriend.”

With wide-eyes, you enter the dining room, dragged behind Sunwoo, and your eyes immediately fall on Younghoon, screaming for help silently, but he just grins at you. “Hey! What are you doing here? Is it a surprise?”

Sunwoo smirked, leaning down to whisper in your ear: “you didn’t actually think the text to come here was from him, did you?”

“Sit down!” Younghoon says, patting the seat beside him. “Come here!” He quickly saw your eyes, which were like deers in the headlights, alarmed. “What’s wrong, baby?

“Hoon,” you begged, trying to pull him out of the room. “Hoon, please? I don’t want to. I don’t want to stay here, I think we should go.”

While Younghoon tried to calm you down, the smart TV in the living room suddenly lit up with the white light that said it was on. Connected to Sunwoo’s iPhone, came the robotic voice, and you almost scream. You grasp Younghoon’s arm, nails sinking in, but when you try to tell him to leave, no sound comes out.

A black-and-white security footage starts to play. “Oh, shit, did I air-drop that?!” Sunwoo laughed. “Well, I guess we just have to watch it—mom! Come here and look!”

You feel like you’re watching one of those found-footage horror movies as you watch your own self on the TV—Sunwoo got the front gate security tape, how the fuck?!—posing towards the camera, with a peace sign. Mrs. Kim comes out to see, and so does Younghoon, but you know Sangyeon’s watching from a distance, stopping in his tracks.

“Is that my dad’s apartment?” Younghoon asked. “When did you—” His expression turns into a horrified display of the widest you’ve seen his eyes, when you remove Sangyeon’s lanyard from the camera’s view, and they all see your torn up clothes and fucked-out hair.

The projection turns to the selfie you took, a shirtless Sangyeon and your plump, freshly-kissed lips. Your blood runs cold, as everybody starts to understand what this was.

You rush to the TV and push down the power button, but the multiple clicks make it overwhelmed in commands, and it won’t shut off. “Y/n!” Sunwoo called, “we haven’t gotten to the best part.”

Suddenly your voice echoed throughout the sound systems, as you spoke: “I love you, Sunwoo. I think we’re broken, but we fit perfectly. I’ve been waiting for the day you can finally say you would die for me, because I already made up my mind about that. I would d—”

You scream as you pull the plug out of the wall socket, and even with the TV a blank darkness now, you’re still screwed. You put your head in your hands, still screaming.

Younghoon’s the first to stand up, with closed fists, as he stared down nobody but his father. “I loved her,” he says with gritted teeth. “How. Could. You?”

But Sangyeon’s busy trying to calm down his fiance, who was frantic and trying to wring the engagement ring off of her fingers. “That girl’s the age of our sons!” she was saying. “What in the hell is wrong with you?!

Younghoon grabs Sangyeon’s collar to get his attention, and when the older man’s eyes snap to his, he spits out with hatred: “you’re not my fucking father anymore, do you hear me?” He releases the collar, basically shoving Sangyeon backwards.

You watch the commotion happen, the half-drunk family going ballistic. Meanwhile, Sunwoo poured himself more liquor.

“You’re probably wondering why I rejected you so harshly that day,” Sunwoo says, approaching you only. “It was to get that confession—that raw, unadulterated love confession. I know you love me, Y/n—but does Younghoon?” When all you do is stare up at him, Sunwoo delivers you another smile, and another glass of champagne. His mother’s screaming could be heard from the parking lot, 5 floors down, but he doesn’t care. After tonight, no more pesky wedding planning and step families… although he did somehow lose you in the process, but you’re you. You’ll always crawl back to him. It’s like throwing a boomerang, or shooting an arrow. He knows exactly where you’ll land.

“You know, I expected you to get all sentimental with me, but—you ran straight to that guy, really? Signed yourself off for a lie of a relationship? Oh, well, just hurts more for him–guess I should thank you, huh?” Sunwoo clinked his glass with yours, a sound drowned out by the loud crashing of the sauce bowl falling off the dining room table. “Oh! Who’s gonna pay for that? Certainly not me and my mom, we’re out of here.”

With a laugh, he takes the front door out of the apartment, purposely leaving the door open when he leaves so the entire flat could hear them better.

#tbz imagines #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #sunwoo smut #younghoon smut #sangyeon smut #sangyeon x reader #sangyeon imagines #younghoon imagines #younghoon x reader #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo imagines #tbz smut #tbz fic #the boyz fic

[yootaesowlwrites]

Forgive My Lips - Kim Younghoon

W/C: 3.6K

Note: Blank blogs will be blocked. I don’t trust y’all, so make sure you have your age in your bio/desc or something on your blog. Minors DNI.

Prompts: “You must forgive my lips... they find pleasure in the most unusual places.” + “I’d like to lick your pussy / cock. i'd like to hear you scream my name.” 

Warnings: Smut, nudism, explicit language, suggestive, nicknames, wet kisses, nipple sucking, oral(female receiving), cum tasting, hair pulling, fingering, kitchen sex, some humour, unprotected sex(reader’s on the pill), cockwarming, hint of aftercare.

Age Warning: I will not take responsibility because you wanted to read this, but if you’re under the age of 18+, DO NOT INTERACT OR READ. Do not take this as educational, this is fiction!

You watch as Younghoon push his fingers into his mouth and swirls his tongue around them, his eyes were dark as he watched you with intensity, you were supposed to be baking a cake, or decorating it since the cake was already made and had cooled down, but things had quickly gone south, and he had dipped two fingers into the icing before pushing it into his mouth, you could see some icing covering his chin from when he had pushed it into his mouth and some of it broke off, he pulls his fingers from his mouth and loudly licks his lips off.

“I… Hoon,” You whisper, you had felt your skin heat up and something grow inside you as you watched him. “The… cake,” He nods his head before you watch him dip his fingers back into the bowl of icing, you watch as he lifts his hand and icing drips from it before he pushed them against your lips.

“Taste how good it is,” He says, his voice was lower than usual, and you knew that decorating the cake had to be pushed to the bottom of your list. You open your lips and his digits slip into your mouth and pressed down against your tongue, making you suck on them instead of licking them clean. “I’d like to lick your pussy, I’d like to hear you scream my name,” You almost choke on your own saliva that had now become sweetened from the icing, he licks his lips before letting a smirk fall on them. “Should we move to the bedroom, or stay here?” You stare at him as he begins to slide his fingers in and out of your mouth, causing your saliva to begin dripping from the corners of your mouth. “Oh… your mouth is a little full right now, isn’t it…” He watches as your saliva rolls down your chin and as your chest begins moving faster. “Let’s stay right here,” And with that he pulls his fingers from your mouth and grabs onto your waist, turning you towards the counter and backing you up against it.

“Younghoon…” You sigh his name out with content, he grips your waist firmly and lifts you up onto the kitchen counter, immediately moving himself between your legs to spread them, his fingers curl around the waistband of your pants, and you lift your hips to allow him to remove your pants and panties, you gasp as you lower your hips and your bare ass and the back of your thighs makes contact with the cold surface of the marble kitchen counter. “Fuck…” You hiss out, his hands quickly make their way to the top of your knees and slide along your thighs, leaving a burning trail behind on your skin as he does.

“You’re so irresistible,” He says in a husky tone, you swallow as you watch his face, it was hard, and his eyes were burning with lust. “With no matter what you do, be it cleaning, just laying there or baking,” His fingers curl around the hem of your shirt, and he pulls it over your head, once he had the fabric pulled from you, you immediately reach for his shirt and tug it upwards, barely giving him enough time to toss your shirt to the floor.

“I can say the same for you,” You say. You remove his shirt and drop it onto the floor on the clothes that were quickly pilling up, you reach for his shoulders and place your hands on top of them and slowly slide your hands down them, feeling how his muscles were shaping his arms.

“Yet, look at our position, sweetheart,” He says with a smirk on his lips. “You still wanted to finish decorating the cake, meanwhile I wanted you, I wanted to taste you, I want you to scream my name as I do…” You swallow at his words, that may have been true, he was the one that pulled the trigger on this intimate act.

“If I could, I would have lifted you onto this counter,” You say. You watch as he licks his lips as he thinks about it. “And pulled your pants down, I would like to lick your cock too, and have you scream for me,” You watch as his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows, your words cause his cock to twitch as it was already starting to harden.

“Next time… I’ll sit myself on this counter, and you can do exactly just that,” He says before leaning in closer, his lips make contact with your collarbone, and you feel an open-mouthed kiss being left behind as he leaves a trail of them downwards towards one of your breasts, his hands slide over your hips and over your lower back and leave a trail as they ascend towards your bra, it only took seconds for his fingers to curl around the fabric and lift it upwards, he briefly pulls back from your chest, and you briefly release his biceps and allow him to pull the bra off and drop it to the floor.

“Hoon, ohh…” You sigh out as you feel his teeth graze over your skin as his mouth was descending towards your nipple, you move one hand to the back of his head and twist your fingers into his locks while your other hand gripped onto his biceps, squeezing them softly. His lips wrap around your nipple, and you feel your hips buck slightly at the feeling that shot through your veins and went straight to your core, you feel his teeth gently graze over your nipple as it slowly becomes more sensitive to touch. “Hoon, gosh,” Your fingers press into his scalp as you feel wetness gathering around your slit. “Hmm…” His hands make contact with your thighs, and you feel him rubbing up and down along them, making sure to keep his hands in contact with you as he sucked on your nipple.

The feeling of his hands constantly rubbing your thighs and the feeling of his mouth sucking on your nipple was making your skin heat up even more and your mind to fall into a haze of blissful thoughts and feelings, a feeling you very much enjoyed floating through when you shared intimate moments like this with him. The tip of his tongue swirls around your nipple, and you tilt your head back and close your eyes at how good it felt.

“Younghoon…” You breathe out, you could feel your slickness spreading through your pussy, and it wouldn’t be long before it would leak onto the countertop. He tugs your nipple, and you swear it felt like he was tugging right at your core and at the ball of tension that had started to build up inside you. “Oh… fucking…” He releases your nipple with a loud pop, and you felt your clit twitch at how it felt. “Fuck, Hoon,” You lift your head to look down at him and saw him looking up at you before he was descending your stomach with his lips brushing along your skin.

“You know what…” He mutters before he pulls back, your grip on his hair and biceps fall, and you almost whimper at the warmth that disappeared from you. “Let me just…” You watch as he pulls one of the dining chairs closer to him before settling it right between your legs and sitting down on it, he grabs onto your ankles and lifts your legs, he turns his head and kisses the inside of your calf before he places your legs over his shoulders. “Much better.”

“Much better?” You ask. “You’re…” He was almost level with your pussy. “Younghoon…” You feel his cheeks brush against your inner thighs while his hands slide along your legs before gripping your outer thighs. “Oh, my fu…” Your words get caught in your throat as you feel his hot breath blow against your folds. You quickly grab onto the back of his head with your hand while putting your other hand behind you on the counter. “OH!” Something sparks inside you as his tongue flicks over your folds.

“Oh, fuck, you taste so good,” He mutters before you felt his lips partially engulf your pussy folds, you throw your head back as you feel him suck on your folds and lick along them.

“OH, fuck, Hoon, my fucking…” You moan out, your fingers grip his hair tighter as you feel your stomach muscles tightening. “Fuck, fucking… OH!” You squeeze your eyes shut as your breathing becomes deepen, and you could feel your skin dampening as sweat begins coating it. “Shit, Hoon, I…” You push your thighs against the side of his head as pleasure courses through your veins. “FUCK!” It felt like fire was going through your veins as he sucks on your pussy lips as if he was making out with them. “HOON!” You could feel your muscles tightening at a rapid pace, and you sucked in your stomach to try and slow it down, but to no avail. He pulls back, and you take in a deep breath as everything slowly unclenches, you open your eyes to look down at him and saw him licking his lips.

“Oh, my fucking… you must forgive my lips… they find pleasure in the most unusual places,” He says, he basically had a full-blown make-out session with your pussy lips, and now he was looking up at you almost angelic, but you could see the lust dancing in them.

“This isn’t the fucking first time you’ve done this, Hoon…” You say practically breathlessly. “And you always find pleasure there,” You watch as a smirk grows on his lips as his eyes move to look at your pussy that was glistening from your juices and now his saliva.

“All right, true, but they can’t help but be attached to your pussy, it’s just so good,” He says. “I can already feel them pulling me towards your pussy again,” You watch as he leans in before your eyes shut when you felt his tongue push past your lips and lick a stripe along your pussy.

“Fuck,” You hiss out, curling your fingers against the counter as you felt a hot pleasure go through your spine before exploding inside your mind, you could hear the wet sounds coming from between your licks as he licks along your pussy several times, making sure to lick slower once he reached your clit to add to the pleasure you were already going through. “Younghoon, oh, my fucking…” You pull at his hair as your head snaps back.

“Hmm,” He hums against you, the vibrations immediately go through your pussy and right the knot of tension building inside you, specs of dust begin floating behind your lids the more he licks.

“FUCK!” You scream as your back arches with pleasure, his lips had wrapped around your clit, and he was now sucking on the nub that had developed a heartbeat inside it. “YOUNGHOON!” It suddenly felt like your skin was set alight, and you could feel a warmth going up your legs at the speed of light, before your legs shake with pleasure and your toes curled. “SHIT, FUCK, HOON!” His tongue was rubbing flat against your clit before he sucks on it harshly. “Fuckfuckfuck,” You could feel tears begin to prick at the corner of your eyes. “Hooooon,” You whine as he suddenly released your clit and felt his tongue at your slit. You were out of breath, and you could feel your heart drumming inside your chest.

“Hmm-mmh,” He hums against your pussy, your hips buck as you felt the vibrations once again travel through you and go straight to the knot of tension inside you, one of his hands disappears from your thigh and moments later you felt his fingers replace the feeling of his tongue at your slit while his lips were back at your clit.

“Ohmyfucking…” You mutter and squeeze your eyes tighter together, you lean back on the counter, putting all your weight on your elbow instead of your wrist. “Younghoon…” Your muscles tighten as you feel two digits slipping into you and his lips wrap around your clit once more. “HOON!” You suck in your stomach as your walls clench around his digits, your thighs press down hard against the side of his head and the tension inside you snaps, the specs of dust behind your lids explode into stars that fly past you as it felt like your body was flying through the sky. “HOON!” You felt a third digit slip into you and curl against your walls amidst your high. “HOON, OH MY FUCKING!” You push your hand down against the back of his head, pushing his head more against your pussy as your hips buck repeatedly against his face, practically face fucking him. “Fuck… fuuuck,” His fingers were ruthless as they curled and uncurled inside you to get you through your high.

Your body shakes with pleasure and Younghoon could feel it as he was guiding you through your high, he knew your body like he knew the back of his hand, and he loved having you like this for him, he loved being in this position, and he got drunk knowing how he had you shaking like this just because of him, for him.

“Hoon…” Your voice is now lower than before, he pulls his fingers from you as he felt your body calming down and pulled his mouth from your clit, licking off his lips that were coated with your juices. He places his hand on top of your thigh and draws circles on your skin with his fingers that were just inside you as he waits for you to look up at him. “Hoon, gosh…” You lift your head and open your eyes, he could see satisfaction floating in them and smirks.

“I need to hear you scream some more,” He says and removes your legs from his shoulders before standing, he moves the chair out of the way before reaching for his sweatpants, he pushes them down along with his boxers, his cock slapping against his lower stomach to leave a splatter of pre-cum behind on his tone stomach, he steps out from his sweatpants and underwear and uses his foot to push them aside before he places his hands on the side of your thighs to pull you closer to the edge of the counter.

“Hoooon,” You whine as you feel his cock push against your mound, you sit upright and wrap your hand around him and slowly stroke your hand along his length, you watch as he closes his eyes and take his bottom lip between his lips before releasing it.

“Put it in,” He mutters, you lift your legs and place your heels at the edge of the counter before guiding his cock through your folds and to your entrance, you watch as you coat him in your juices before pushing the tip into you. “Ga-fuck,” He stutters as he feels your walls wrap around him, you release his cock and move your hand to his shoulder to grab onto him as he pushes his forward, pushing himself into you, filling you and stretching your walls.

“Hoon, fuck… I…” You breathe out, you could feel your heels starting to slip from the countertop and quickly wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him against you and causing him to push into you quicker than he had intended to. “YOUNGHOON!”

“FUCK!” He groans loudly and squeezes your thighs. “Fucking…” His head falls back, and your eyes struggle to stay focused to watch his reaction, fuck, you needed to watch as he swallows and try to compose himself and bring his mind back down to earth, if that were possible. “Y/n… sweetheart…” You watch as he lifts his head and opens his eyes to stare at you, his jaw clenches and unclenches, making your walls clench around him. “Fuck…” Your fingers dig into his shoulder as you take in a shaky breath. “Scream my name when you cum for me,” He pulls his hips back, almost pulling out all the way before he slams back into you, the air gets stuck in your throat momentarily.

“Younghoon!” You gasp out, you could feel something inside of you twisting as a knot of pleasure begins to build again. His hair was damp from the sweat, and you could see his skin glistening with it also. “Hoon, fuck… Fuck,” Your other hand was pressing into the counter as you tried to keep yourself from slipping too much.

“Fuck, you… so good,” He groans out, you could see his neck veins appears and glance down at his arms, quickly finding that they were also covered in veins, you close your eyes and tilt your head back.

“Hoon, fuck,” You whimper, the sound of your juices squelching fills the kitchen and the sound of your groans and moans bounced off the walls. “HOON!” Your tits bounced with each thrust, and you could feel his eyes burning into your chest as he watched them. “Hoon, fuck, Younghoon,” Your mind spins with pleasure, and you could feel the knot inside you only growing and growing at the stimulation your walls were getting. “YOUNGHOON!” Your back arches as you feel the knot inside you suddenly come apart, your nails scratch at his shoulders as your grip slips. “YOUNGHOON!” Tears of pleasure were streaming down your cheeks. You manage to grab onto the back of his neck before your grip completely slips.

“Fuck, that’s it, scream my name as you make a mess on my cock,” He grunts, his eyes were now taking in your shaking body, a sense of pride growing inside him knowing it's him that has you feeling like this, knowing it's him that’s causing you pleasure. Your mind was a hazy blissful mess as you were going through your high, your legs were shaking, and your toes were curled from the ecstasy feeling coursing through you.

“YOUNGHOON!” You scream, the sound of you screaming for him was only motivation for him to thrust into you faster. “FUCK!” You were barely coming down from the high you just had when you already felt another about to wash over you. “HOON!” His hips were postponing into yours as he was now chasing after his own high.

“Fuck… yes, like that,” He grunts out, or growled, you weren’t sure. “Rub your clit for me,” Your grip on him tightens before you lift your hand from the counter and touched your clit, your walls clench around him at how cold your fingers felt to your warm wet pussy.

“Shit,” You gasp. Your walls were milking him to spill his load into you, and his body was complying with what your walls were asking from him. “Younghooooonn,” Your fingers rub over your sensitive throbbing nub, and you could feel your third high quickly approaching. “I’m…” You were right at the edge of that pleasurable drop. He thrusts harshly into you and that movement caused everything inside you to snap, your mind falls into a blank, and you cry out in pleasure, your legs shaking uncontrollably as they unhook from around him.

“I’m… close,” He grunts out, his movements flattering as he felt a heartbeat in the head of his cock, he was close, right at the edge, he could taste it. “Fuck…” Your walls clamp down around him hard, and he felt his mind fall into a pool of ecstasy, hot ropes of cum spilling into you, filling your hole with his load. “FUCK!” Tingles run up and down your spine from hearing him groan loudly and feeling his load filling you.

“Hoon,” You whimper, your grip on his neck loosens as he rocks his hips into yours to get himself through his high. “So good, Hoon,” You whisper, you could feel your body tingling with the aftershock feeling from what just happened. “Hmpf… fuck,” His grip on your thighs loosens, and you feel his hips slow down before his cock is buried inside you, his body presses flush against yours, and he drops his head into the crook of your neck to take a moment to let everything settle in his mind. His hands slide from your thighs to your hips before finally resting on your lower back to keep you in place.

“Hmm,” He softly hums into your neck, you pull your finger away from your clit and bring your hand to his arm, resting it on his arm. “Just an addicting feeling also,” He lifts his head and looks at you, the lust that once occupied his eyes now gone and replaced with adoration. “You… just you, all of you, fuck… I love you so much,” It’s not the first time he has said those words, but every time he does, you could feel your heart growing more and a warm feeling spreading through you. “Are you okay, though?” His eyes quickly switched from adoration to concern.

“Hmm, I am… more than okay, Hoon,” You say, his eyes carefully watch you, looking for any sign of pain or discomfort, but quickly found none. “And you, are you okay?” He nods his head. The temperature was starting to cool down and was starting to nip at your warm-sweat-coated skin.

“All good,” He says. “But I think we should go take a nice warm shower and then come and try to decorate the cake again,” You softly laugh and nod your head. “Hopefully it won’t end up like this again.”

#Younghoon imagine #Younghoon imagines #Younghoon scenario #Younghoon scenarios #Younghoon oneshot #Younghoon oneshots #Younghoon one shot #Younghoon one shots #Younghoon smut #The Boyz imagine #The Boyz imagines #The Boyz scenario #The Boyz scenarios #The Boyz oneshot #The Boyz oneshots #The Boyz one shot #The Boyz one shots #The Boyz smut #TBZ imagine #TBZ imagines #TBZ scenario #TBZ scenarios #TBZ oneshot #TBZ oneshots #TBZ one shot #TBZ one shots #TBZ smut

[bermudas]

crimson clover

↳ summary: an act of service is an act of love—in which younghoon has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, even before he became your knight 

↳ pairing: knight!younghoon x royal!gender neutral reader

↳ genre: fluff, angst

↳ themes & tropes: fantasy au, royalty au, knight x royal, secret relationship, forbidden love

↳ warnings: fantasy-typical conflict (background information), allusions to infidelity (arranged marriage), brief mentions of violence, death, war, weapons, and assassination

↳ word count: 1.6k

↳ notes: this is a very belated holiday exchange fic for @warmau! thank you for your patience and i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 also heavily inspired by taylor swift’s “the great war” and the story of tristan and iseult (with a hint of the princess bride). special thanks to @blushyeon​ & @sichengtual​​ for beta reading this piece for me!

Younghoon thinks the common clothing does nothing to hide your radiance. 

Sure, they’re rather plain compared to your usual royal finery, but, if anything, he only finds you even more beautiful. It occurs to him that your disguise may be too simple—you will surely draw more attention than the two of you hope to attract on your journey. He tells himself it’s only because it will make his job harder, and not because he wants to keep you all to himself.

Not that you were ever his to keep anyways.

“I don’t understand why we have to do all this, Sir Younghoon,” you say, fussing with the saddlebags. “Surely the other kingdom isn’t stupid enough to jeopardize the peace treaty, not after decades of bloodshed.” 

“It is only an extra precaution, Your Highness. While the Crown Prince has made his intentions clear, the same cannot be said for the rest of the kingdom.” He rests his hand on the hilt of the blade concealed underneath his cloak. “People will look twice at a royal procession or a carriage passing by, but they won’t think anything of a married couple traveling alone.” 

“Will we even make it in time for the coronation?” 

Younghoon lets out a sigh. “We must make haste, Your Highness.” He turns around to look you in the eyes, his gaze softening as he does so. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to see your betrothed before the wedding.” 

“I’m not used to traveling alone.” You pout, brow creased with worry.

“You won’t be alone, Your Highness. I’ll be there with you, every step of the way.” 

The sight of the small smile spreading across your face makes Younghoon feel like he’s floating. 

Never in his wildest dreams does Younghoon think he would ever kiss you. 

He’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember—ever since he was a child following his father around the palace, as pathetic as that sounds. So when you plant your lips on his in a spectacular display of affection in front of the innkeeper, his mind goes blank. 

The second you pull away, he wants to cradle your face in his hands and say, “Kiss me again. Let me do it right this time,” but he doesn’t do that. He’s frozen in shock, incapable of moving his limbs, much less producing speech. 

You chatter on, oblivious to his reaction. “We just eloped! As you can see, I can barely keep my hands off my lovely husband. Do you happen to have a room available?” You laugh, sending a wink in the flustered innkeeper’s direction. 

Younghoon tries to ignore the way his heart does somersaults at the sound of the word. Husband.  

“Y-yes, yes. You two lovebirds can have the room there, furthest down the hall,” the innkeeper replies, a bright red flush spreading to the tips of his ears.

“Thank you, sir!” You slide a bag of coins across the counter as he hands you the keys.

It takes a few seconds for Younghoon to recompose himself before following you down the hall.

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be proper, Your Highness,” Younghoon says, avoiding your gaze. Kissing you was one thing, but sharing a bed with you is an entirely separate issue. 

Crossing your arms over your robe, you roll your eyes, exasperated. “Sir Younghoon, you are pretending to be my husband, are you not? What will the innkeeper think if he finds out we slept separately?” 

“I don’t have to leave the room, Your Highness. I can keep watch here just fine.” He gestures to the chair sitting by the bed. “Besides, after the show you put on outside, I think the innkeeper will be avoiding this room for the night.” 

With a sigh, you make your way toward Younghoon, stopping mere inches in front of him. When he opens his mouth to protest, you cut him off. “I don’t care about what’s proper,” you whisper—as if you knew what he was going to say—eyes lingering on his lips. 

Your fingers deftly undo the strap attached to the sheath of his blade before placing it down on the bed. Curling his hands into fists by his side, he tries to ignore the heat of your skin through the fabric. Younghoon can feel his resolve eroding away slowly as the dam he built to protect himself from his feelings threatens to overflow. 

All it takes is the tilt of your head for him to close the distance between your lips. 

Despite the years of yearning and want, the kiss is surprisingly gentle. Younghoon savors the moment, committing the feel of your lips to memory. His breath hitches when you thread your fingers through his hair, and he can feel your lips curl up into a smile. 

He falls asleep that night with one arm wrapped around your waist and the other resting on the hilt of his blade, tucked underneath the pillow. 

Despite the joyous occasion, the mood is solemn as you walk down the aisle. Your parents sit stone-faced in the front row, your father clenching his jaw with steely determination in his eyes. His expression makes one thing clear: this wedding is no celebration, only a means to an end. 

Younghoon keeps his eyes trained on the floor, unable to look at you. He knows he’s being foolish. He knows you were never going to marry for love—he’s known it since the day he met you. In his mind, the two of you are still in the inn: limbs tangled together on the bed, laughter echoing throughout the room, soft kisses pressed into skin. But that illusion shattered once you arrived at the palace and were met with the grim faces of the royal party. 

There was an attack, someone says. He doesn’t quite know who they are. The King and Queen are safe, but we must move quickly in order to quell the growing unrest. The wedding will now take place immediately after the Crown Prince’s coronation. 

Only then does Younghoon recall hearing whispers of rebellion passing through the villages.

“We have come today to join these two kingdoms in matrimony,” the officiant declares, his voice ringing through Younghoon’s ears. 

With an ache in his chest, Younghoon watches as you slip through his fingers, and out of his reach, for good. 

Younghoon thinks you’ve assumed your role quite gracefully, despite the circumstances. Whenever you step foot outside the palace, the people flock to you with adoring eyes and outstretched arms, praises spilling off their lips. In fact, some may say that they prefer you to the King himself because you seem to genuinely care about your people.

(Some may also say Younghoon looks upon you as if he’s gazing at the sun itself, as if you’re the one who brings light into his world.)

They say that, while you reforge the bonds between the two kingdoms and repair decades worth of damage, your husband squanders the kingdom’s remaining resources to crush any signs of dissent. It’s strange, the people remark, that despite all his efforts, he still hasn’t been able to find the rebels that attacked your family all those months ago. 

The nobility dismisses the concerns and chatter as mere rumors. Younghoon thinks he’s gotten quite good at picking out the ones with some truth to them.

The stone walls of the palace are cool to the touch as Younghoon leads you down the servant hallways, clutching your hand in the darkness. No one should be awake at this hour, save for a few guards, but he doesn’t want to take any chances—not with your life on the line. Even with the rough clothing you have on, he does not doubt that the staff would recognize you immediately. 

As the two of you pass through the kitchen, Younghoon tucks away a few scraps of food, mostly bread and dried meat, for the journey ahead. It’s a much quicker trip from your chambers to the grounds than he expects, and he hopes Juyeon has reached the stables in time to saddle your horses. 

“Younghoon, can you explain what’s going on?” you ask, lowering the hood of your cloak. He hastily puts it back up, but not before he catches a glimpse of the moonlight cascading across your face, highlighting your features in a way that makes his breath catch in his throat. 

“The King is going to kill you, just like he tried to kill your parents before the coronation. He’s been planning this for months. He didn't want to marry you for the sake of peace, he married you to create an empire. He’ll use your death to assume more power and go after his enemies,” Younghoon says, ignoring your wide-eyed gaze as he steers you toward the stables. “I’ve sent Juyeon and Hyunjae ahead to secure our safe passage to Prince Sangyeon’s kingdom.” 

“How—” 

“I’ll answer all your questions later, Your Majesty, but we must leave before he notices you’re gone.” 

As the two of you ride away under the cover of the night, Younghoon wonders if his actions affected the King’s plans at all. After all, he’s stolen you away and taken you to another kingdom. 

But Younghoon knows he’s selfish when it comes to you. He would fight a war for you, as long as it means that you would live. 

The sun sinks beneath the horizon as the boat pulls away from the harbor. Younghoon knows the King’s men are not too far behind, but he feels strangely at peace with you by his side. 

“You would make a good King, Sir Younghoon,” you whisper, intertwining your fingers together. 

Blushing at the casual touch, Younghoon presses his forehead against yours, his gaze soft and tender. “As long as I’m yours, Your Majesty.”

© bermudas, 2023. all rights reserved.

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #younghoon imagines #younghoon scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #younghoon #kim younghoon #younghoon x reader #younghoon fluff #younghoon fanfic #tbz fanfic #the boyz fanfic #younghoon au #younghoon angst #the boyz fluff #folder:writing #file:complete

[daisyvisions]

Whenever You Call

Pairing: Tsundere! Younghoon x Fem! reader

Synopsis: You’ve always wondered why you were friends with Younghoon. He was always getting into trouble and you were always there to help him after. You two were completely different from one another…. But isn’t there a saying that opposites attract?

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Straight-up fluff + some suggestive themes at the end. Angst? (not sure lol) Some curse words, and mentions of blood, bruises, and cuts. Flashback is italicized.

A/N: first fluff fic, this was originally meant for another tbz member but it felt better having Younghoon instead. I apologize if this isn’t tsundere enough + if it’s kinda cringe? huhu but hope you still enjoy it!

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───────

“When will you ever learn Hoonie, hm?” You giggle as you tend to the wounds on his face. 

Just hearing your laugh made Younghoon feel like he was drunk in love. Everything about you was too ethereal. It’s as if an angel was in front of him every time. Some could call it a blessing, but to him it was hell. Hell because no matter how many inches you were away from him, how many moments you’ve spent with each other, he could never admit that he was deeply in love with you.

You always knew Younghoon was the type who would get into fights. That’s just how he was. And in every fight he got into, he would come running to your doorstep to ask you to help him with his wounds and bruises. You’ve gotten used to it by now, especially since you’ve been doing this for him since you met in high school. Reminiscing the first time you took care of him had you smirking.

 “Do you remember the first time I helped you?” You asked him while wiping the blood off his lips. 

It was 2nd year of high school. You and Younghoon were classmates. Since you were both paired for a long-term project, you eventually got close to each other. Hanging out at the park after school, getting ice cream at the convenience store nearby.

 He was a bit reserved at first, but that didn’t bother you at all. Until one day while walking home, you found out that he wasn’t as reserved as you thought he was.

You saw a crowd of people circling around two boys who were on the ground fighting each other. When you took a peek at who the two boys were, your heart nearly dropped. 

Seeing Younghoon with cuts and bruises on his face, beating the other boy like there was no tomorrow. You immediately pushed through the crowd of people and screamed his name, trying to pull him out of the fight.

Everything was a blur to Younghoon, up until he heard a voice so sweet calling out his name. He felt a force pulling him and that’s when he snapped out of his trance and saw you. 

You immediately pulled him up and dragged him away from the fight and brought him over to your house. Luckily none of your parents were home otherwise they would’ve never allowed Younghoon to be your friend, especially seeing all the wounds on his face.

Younghoon was silent the whole time while you were cleaning his face. After tending to his wounds, you gently held his face between your hands. “What were you thinking?! Why were you in a fight huh?” You aggressively asked.

“He was just annoying that’s all. He pissed me off, he needed to know his place.” He said while avoiding your eyes.

You couldn’t believe his reason. “…That’s it? All this fighting and for what?” You were pissed off at this point. You heavily sighed, knowing that getting mad with him won’t make him change his attitude. So you tried a more gentle approach. 

“Younghoon…” You softly call his name. That’s when he finally looked at you. “Please take care of yourself.” You started to slowly tear up. “You have no idea what I’d do if I lost you, or saw you get really hurt. You mean so much to me....”

The words coming out of your mouth made Younghoon feel something he’s never felt before. Butterflies had crept into his stomach, and his ears were suddenly feeling warm.

 This was the first time he had stared into your eyes. Have they always been this beautiful? How come he never noticed there were stars inside? And the way your eyelashes fluttered every time you blinked, the beating of his heart would pound harder. He also noticed smaller and cute details of your face. But what got his attention the most were your lips. 

He had never noticed such soft and plump lips. He couldn’t stop staring at them, wanting to know how they felt against his own. That last thought had his heart racing a marathon.

“You have to promise me…” You pleaded. Younghoon was too caught up staring at your lips to respond, so you called him again. “Younghoon, are you listening?” He snapped back to reality and looked at your eyes again. “Hm?”

You sighed, “I said, promise me you’ll stop fighting people, please? For me?” You had looked him with the cutest doe-eyes. Younghoon swears he can feel his ears on fire, have you always been this cute? He quickly avoided the thought and took a deep breath before responding. 

“Fine, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll stop fighting. But for you, I’ll do my best.” You instantly wrapped your arms around him, gave a quick kiss on his cheek, and gave him one of the warmest hugs he’s ever gotten. Good thing you couldn’t see him, otherwise you would’ve instantly noticed how red his face had gotten.

Younghoon didn’t lie when he said he’d try to stay out of trouble. At least he tried. Five years later and here he is again, sitting in front of you on your bed while you tend to his wounds.

Sometimes he felt like he’d get into fights on purpose if it meant your face being this close to his. The way your soft fingers would brush against his lips, the addictive smell of your perfume. Once again, he could never stop staring at your lips. The thought of kissing you, to be able to have a taste of what heaven was like... it was starting to kill him slowly.

And you knew he wouldn’t stop getting into trouble so you just got used to it. Hoping every time he’d ring your doorbell that he’d come back in one piece at least. 

You don’t know why you’d put up with this side of him, but it was good to know that when you would get into a bad situation he was always there to protect you. He reassured you on that, especially with all the guys that have stood you up or broken your heart.

It pained Younghoon seeing you cry, seeing some asshole break your heart. All he wanted to do every time he saw you like this was to kiss you and protect you forever. He wanted to let you know how much he loved you and that he would do anything for you. Of course, he was too afraid that confessing to you could ruin the friendship and that he would lose you in an instant, so he decided to just keep his love to himself. 

The secret love he had for you was eating him up inside. He was unsure of how long he could keep this up…Until one evening when you were walking home, just like what had happened the first time you saw a group of people huddling around two men beating each other. 

You looked over the shoulder of one person in the crowd and saw Younghoon on top of another guy who you recognized as one of the guys who ghosted you a few weeks back. You had screamed Younghoon’s name and tried to pull him up from the fight. 

Everything was blurry around him, But Younghoon stopped the moment he recognized the sweet voice that was calling his name. It was almost like a signal he knew too well.

You immediately dragged him back to your home and forced him to sit on your bed. The silence between you two started to become really tense. 

“…why’d you do that Hoonie?” You softly spoke. He didn’t look at you and decided to stay quiet.

“Younghoon… answer me” You pleaded. “…I couldn’t stand hearing that asshole say shit about you. Do you know what he said? You were too naive and it was easy to play with your feelings. Who the hell does he think he is?! I couldn’t just pass by hearing that y/n. I refuse to let anyone talk about you that way.” You stared at him silently, surprised by what he said. 

“I know you hate it when I get into fights, but if it’s one thing I won’t ever stop protecting you and fighting for you. You’re my world y/n.” Your cheeks start warming up from his words.

“Younghoon…”

“You’ve always been there for me. My whole world stops when I’m around you. I would do anything for you. You are too precious for this world…a-and I just can’t stand it anymore..” You look at him confused. “What are you saying?” ”I’-I’m in love with you. I always have been. You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you.” 

Now his face was blushing hard. He avoided your eyes as he confessed, scared to see your reaction and get the rejection he had been avoiding for years. Your eyes widen. “You... you want to kiss me?” You ask him slowly. Younghoon panics, “No-no that’s not what I meant. Wait, I mean yes I really do- I- I mean that’s not why I like you okay-” stuttering like a fool.

You chuckle at his flustered state. “Look at me Younghoon..” you hold his face gently between your hands, just like the 1st time you took care of him. He slowly places his gaze at you, his heart beating out of his chest. He’s so close to fluttering his eyes shut from how near your face was to his.

It was all too fast for him, his head was stuck in the clouds when you finally leaned to kiss him. The way your warm lips molded perfectly with his. 

You pulled away for a bit, looking deeply into his eyes. “You’re my world too…” You smiled at him with so much love in your heart, now understanding why you always stuck by his side. You never wanted anything else but to be the person he runs to, his safe space, his angel. 

He smiles back, passionately grabs your waist to get closer to him, having you sit on his lap, kissing you like it’s his last day on earth. You slowly wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Kissing him made your stomach twirl. You never knew how soft his lips could be.

All morals flew out the window for Younghoon. Five years of pent-up love for you couldn’t hold him back anymore. He swipes your bottom lip with his tongue asking for permission to go beyond your lips. Tongues dancing together perfectly, his hands grabbing the softness of your waist, bodies intertwining like they’ve longed for each other for so long. The sounds of kissing and little moans filling the air. Younghoon was in total bliss, never wanting this moment to end. 

He had finally gotten the taste of heaven.

#kim younghoon #younghoon #younghoon fluff #tbz fluff #tbz fics #tbz scenarios #the boyz soft hours #the boyz fluff #kpop fics #kpop fluff #tsundere younghoon #younghoon imagines #tbz fanfics #the boyz fanfic

[callmedanquixote]

Blooming even in the shadows - Chapter 2

~ Blooming even in the shadows ~

Pairing: Gryffindor Hyunjae x Slytherin Fem!Reader x Slytherin Younghoon (feat. a bubbly Ravenclow Juyeon)

WC: 5.5k

Synopsis: Synopsis: Almost all of the Hogwarts student body had made your stay at the school a big nuisance. Just a couple more of years to get out of that place, expecting to go unnoticed and staying away from bigger problems. Unless the popular and obnoxious Bermuda Line (whom you had avoided at max for five whole years), decided out of the blue one day they were going to walk into your life, which for sure, more than one person wasn't going to like.

Genre: hogwarts au, fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers (in no particular order)

TW: swearing, injuries, school violence, mention of insecurities + (I’ll be adding more in the future probably)

A/N: Hello! It’s a me, the most inconsistent writer ever hehe. I’m sorry that this chapter took so much time to finally be posted. Being an adult and having my work it’s really hard sometimes and I don’t have a lot of free time as I would like. But I definitely won’t abbandon this fic, much less when Hogwarts Legacy is around the corner and will give me so much inspiration for it.

I haven't double checked for grammatical errors, but if I notice any, I'll edit it.

Series Masterlist: Blooming even in the shadows

What were you thinking? Yesterday was such a crazy day. Why did you let Younghoon walk you to the common room? Of course, he hadn't accompanied ONLY YOU, he also lived there. But anyway. You felt very nervous as you walked in silence.

It wasn't an awkward silence, but it felt suffocating. As if you both wanted to speak, say something, but neither dared. You walked with your head down that now you knew every stone on the floor from the clock tower to your bedroom.

You honestly didn't want to get in any more trouble, so you tried to prevent anyone from seeing you together.

Near the entrance of the Slytherin common room, one of your classmates looked frustrated and bored. When he saw you arrive, his face lit up and he quickly approached you.

"Hoon! I left very quickly early in the morning and forgot that today was password change. Let me in with you. I've been waiting for hours for someone to come in. Seems that everyone is far away from here." Said the new boy while he took his arm and pouted at him.

While your classmate was distracting Younghoon, you took the opportunity to go unnoticed, you went ahead and practically ran to your room without saying goodbye.

And today, you wanted to hit yourself so hard on the head. You asked for it by being careless. You could've wait for Younghoon to return your books and then run to your room. But you didn't. Now, surely he was going to look for you again to return them to you.

And it was exactly like that. Younghoon had no idea what happened since it was so fast. One minute he was walking with you, and the next one his friend Seonghwa was hanging from his arm like a little kid asking for the new common room password, and suddenly when he wanted to talk to you again, you were gone.

You definitely disappeared faster than the ghosts in the castle.

He first felt disappointed because if you saw each other again, he didn't know how to aproach you to talk again. Finding you in the tower had been a good coincidence, but he knew he couldn't be that lucky. Does he?

Probably yes, because a smile returned to his face when he realized that he still had your books with him. The books that you necessarily needed for your classes the next day. So Younghoon thought it was really nice to be able to have a golden excuse.

Only he didn't think that the next day it would be so difficult to find you in the morning.

The best plan that your silly head could think of was to sneak out very early in the morning to avoid running into that blond boy. It was so early that there weren't any students in the common room yet, so you left with the utmost peace knowing that you were free.

Or so you thought it would happen, if it weren't for the fact that outside, leaning against one of the walls, radiant and forming a huge smile when he saw you, it was Lee Juyeon. That boy really didn't give up, but at the same time, it was very hard to feel truly uncomfortable in his presence.

Apparently his silly head had the same idea as you. Leaving so early in the morning to be able to find you and accompany you to your class even if you didn't have the same schedule. So not wanting to fight, you reluctantly let him stay by your side.

As you headed to the classroom, you noticed that everything was noisier than usual. And it was because while every day you walked quietly and calmly on your own, going with Juyeon, was like making lumos in a completely dark corridor. You both inevitably called (no, shouted) the attention of others. Students from all the houses and all the years greeted Juyeon and wished him a good day at school, and the boy kindly smiled and exchanged a few words with everyone.

It looked like the fucking spring witches parade. And since you weren't used to it, you felt very uncomfortable. Especially for having the curious and not very good stares of people on you.

"I didn't think you were such a morning person. You have too much energy." You complained in the middle of a sigh, avoiding his gaze.

"You could get used to it from now on. The others will also get used to seeing us together because we are going to be friends." He spoke softly.

"According to whom?"

"Destiny. Never judge fate, YN."

Inadvertently, your chest heaved with excitement. But it was something you wouldn't even admit to yourself in thoughts. Don't flatter yourself, YN. You repeated to yourself not with much conviction. What bullshit and nonsense was this guy saying?

"Merlin’s pants! How fucking cheesy you are.

Arriving at your classroom, you quickly entered without looking back and Juyeon stopped at the door while he waited for you to take a seat (away from the entrance, but close to where the professor would be) and you listened to him saying –more like yelling- words of encouragement to you.

"Enough, Juyeon. We'll see each other in the next class." You yelled in a whisper with your head down and you felt a little embarrassed. It looked like the scene of a proud father dropping off his daughter on her first day of school.

Lucky you, there weren't many people yet. Your classmates laughed because Juyeon was like a walking vitamin. You ignored him so he would go away once and for all.

You weren't going to deny that it was nice to hear words of support from him. It was like being given a big gift on a day that wasn't your birthday.

When the blue haired boy left, you finally noticed the place. You started to feel very anxious but excited at the same time. Your heart was beating fast just with the anticipation, and you smiled inadvertently as you thought and thought. You were determined that today would be a good day.

Damn Juyeon with his good humor and all that contagious shit. 

You were so engrossed that you barely noticed that someone sat behind you and gently touched your shoulder.

When you turned around, you didn't expect to see him so happy and confident. It wasn't very common to see that young Slytherin being like this. Much less, talking to someone who wasn't part of his elite few friends.

"YN, yesterday Hwa distracted me. That dummy forgot the password." He told you as if it were daily bread to tell you about his life or something as banal as that. "I didn't even realize you were gone. I have your books, but I can give them to you in the next class so you don't have to carry them and you'll be more comfortable."

Observing that strange exchange of words, Lee Jaehyun, who was sitting next to his blond friend, was perplexed. When had you two been together? Were you close enough to lend each other books?

Jaehyun inevitably thought about what happened the day before. He wasn't going to deny that he was embarrassed by the way he acted and by what he said to you without understanding what was happening.

He had to accept that he was deeply upset by what his Slytherin friend had said the day before. How come you didn't feel comfortable in his presence? You practically didn't know him well enough to say that. And then the situation where he found you later with those girls, he definitely didn't know what happened, but they were on the floor crying, and you just looked upset. He had no idea of what happened. It wasn't coherent that you alone had hurt five girls.

Something in all of this was off. But Jaehyun was too proud to ask you about what happened and much more to apologize for his attitude. He didn't owe you anything.

But Jaehyun was curious.

Without thinking, the Gryffindor boy took his stuff and moved to the seat across from him. Right beside you. Right at the moment when Professor Lupin entered.

You quickly turned to look at him with a frown as if he were a three-headed creature, and before you could say something and ask him to leave, you locked eyes with the new Gryffindor boy who was accompanying the professor to his desk. As soon as he met your stare, he gave you one of those huge smiles you always saw on him and waved at you as he helped set things up.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Lee Sangyeon. A sunbae who was a year older, prefect of the red house, and captain of his Quiditch team. He too, was one of the kindest and most attentive people you knew, and one of the few people you talked to in good terms at school. And that's not to mention that he was incredibly handsome and looked spectacular with that cute dimple and his perfectly pinned caramel hair.

Your hands trembled a bit and you closed them tightly to calm yourself down. You felt your cheeks burn and inevitably a smile formed on your face. A gesture that didn't go unnoticed by either of the two boys around you. Younghoon looked thoughtful and Jaehyun was quite surprised.

They both knew (from Jaehyun) that Sangyeon would be going to be a "helper" in Defense Against the Dark Arts class since the boy was excellent at non-verbal spells and that was what's going to happen in your class that school year. Basically any student in the class with the Slytherins and Gryffindors could come up and ask him for help so that the professor could pay better attention to everyone.

Younghoon frowned as he realized what his friend wanted.

"Yah, why did you change seats? A few minutes ago you told me not to leave your side and now you're leaving me." The other boy just gave him a mischievous smile. "At least consult it with YN first. Who told you that she wants to work with you?"

You thought irritably (because of the Gryffindor next to you) that he was right. Ever since Sangyeon mentioned to you last year that you would see each other in this class, you had been waiting impatiently for it. There was a reason you had chosen a seat so close to the professor's desk. Maybe not for anything you had taken a few extra minutes in the morning when you were getting ready. What was this guy doing?

"Juyeon said that his 'girl friend'" he said with a mocking tone the last word. "was very intelligent, wasn't she? This year I need to raise my grades, so with her it'll be easier. You can serve me for something YN." He finished speaking with a haughty air.

Wow, what a despicable guy. You closed your eyes to keep calm and not curse him out in front of everyone.

Younghoon on the other hand, had a lot to say.

"Dude, wtf? Jaehyun! It…it's for a long time." Poor boy looked quite frustrated. "Jae, you know I don't want to work with someone I don't know."

"Tell any of your fellow Slytherins. You get along with some, right? Didn't you say that you were even with Seonghwa yesterday?"

You looked at Jaehyun and thought surprised how was he able to abandon his friend like that. Younghoon clearly talked to a lot of people, but that didn't mean he was an open person. His seatmates had always been either Jaehyun or Juyeon and you had never really seen him during classes with someone else.

"What the hell are you planning Lee? Come back to your seat."

"This is my new seat." Jaehyun suddenly turned around and motioned for Sangyeon to come over. You wanted to hit this guy so fucking hard. "Hyung, will you help Professor Lupin in general, or will you work alongside someone else?"

"A bit of both, Jae." The Gryffindor captain gave you all a confused smile. He didn't knew you three talked to each other. When did you become close? "Hi YN." He gently caressed your head while smiling. You looked at him nervously but you also smiled and greeted him nervously.

"Hyung, do you need a partner?" Jaehyun insisted again towards his captain. Sangyeon looked at him and then directed his gaze at you looking determined. However, Jaehyun interrupted again. "No YN, hyung, you can work with Hoonie. Younghoon, stop complaining, you already have a new partner. And it's the assistant's professor, who better than hyung to be with in this class?"

You, Sangyeon and Younghoon look at him surprised. Why was he so bossy? Younghoon even wanted to tell him then why didn't he pair up with Sangyeon but he already knew, what Jaehyun wanted was what was done. And he knew that this had nothing to do with him or Sangyeon. It was a nuisance. No one there felt 100% satisfied but they didn't say anything else since Professor Lupin began to explain to the class that this course was in pairs because you would practice just non-verbal spells.

The first few classes he would teach you how to cast attack spells and defense spells, and then you would have to practice using them against your seatmates only inside Hogwarts.

"Sangyeon is a sunbae who will be helping whoever needs it in my class. Don't be shy, if you find him outside the castle and have any questions, you can also ask him, or come find me in my office." The professor spoke calmly. "Non-verbal spells are difficult to perform and control, they take a long time, so I encourage you not to lose hope during the class. I hope that maybe you manage to execute one at the end of the course, or at least, I hope that you can avoid the antics of your seatmates."

"Miss LN, I look forward to seeing your performance. I have heard very good things from the other professors about you and your use of non-verbal spells. I hope that Mr. Lee knows what awaits him in the following months, 'cause if not, Mr. Lee, you can consult the infirmary whenever you like. –The students in the class laughed at the professor's joke.

Jaehyun immediately turned to see you.

"So you know how to make potions that Slughorn likes and you're good at this too?" He asked surprised.

"You have no idea Jae, she's more than good." The captain Interrupted before you could answer.

"How come you two know each other?" asked the youngest of the Gryffindors with some suspicion.

Without even looking at him, you answered under your breath, "It's none of your business, Lee."

But it was his business, Jaehyun thought. He didn't understand his curiosity about you, but he was grateful when Sangyeon spoke again.

"Usually we met in nearby places when we studied in the library. YN always has her head buried in all kinds of books; some even very advanced. So there were some things that I needed help with for a class, and she explained them too well." Sangyeon spoke with a smile as he remembered how you had met. "She really is brilliant! And I really wanted to come back to this Lupin class to see what YN knows how to do."

Younghoon watched that exchange silently but his eyes looked very curious. It was to be expected that Sangyeon would have such a facility to approach and make anyone feel comfortable, including you.

"How can it be possible? I thought you were like an outcast who had no friends. Juyeon and Younghoon said it." You heard Jaehyun say with zero shame.

"Lee Jaehyun! What's wrong with you?"

"Yah Jaehyun! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Sangyeon and Younghoon yelled in annoyance at their inconsiderate friend. You felt your cheeks burn with anger and humiliation because, okay, maybe he hadn't told any lies, but honestly, why did he care? You knew that there were rude people with you, you knew that that Gryffindor was rude, but it was completely different when he said it in front of a person whose opinion you did care about. And to you, Sangyeon wasn't just any person. Even if there was no chance, he was still the guy you liked and made your heart flutter.

"YN, you don't have to listen to something so silly… Jae has no manners." The older one whispered under his breath.

"YN, it's not true what he's saying, we never..."

Both boys were trying to caught your gaze, but you didn't want to see his pitying expressions.

You decided to close your mind and thoughts in a black box and ignore everything that happened in that class from now on. You concentrated on listening to the professor's words and pretending that the three boys around you didn't exist.

Jaehyun didn't stop moving the whole time in his place, but he didn't say anything. And even if he had, you wouldn't have listened to him either.

When Lupin announced the end of the class, your seatmate looked with every intention of opening his mouth again, but you took your things and left immediately without waiting for anything.

Jaehyun was bewildered. Not because of how you had reacted (cause honestly, who would want to talk after something like that?), but because of himself. He was a joker, and he knew some of his jokes were very heavy, but that hadn't been a joke, it had just been a nasty, rude and insensitive thing. Besides, he was like that with his friends, not with a person he didn't know or didn't have some trust in him.

Therefore, what was questioned the most was why he was being like this with you? Was it because you were the first person that didn't feel comfortable with him and it bothered him? Was it because he distrusted you because of what those girls told him a day before? Was it because on the contrary, with Juyeon, Younghoon and Sangyeon you were fine? Or was it because all of his friends were sticking up for you and they clearly liked you and he didn't know you?

Before he could leave the classroom, he felt a very strong gaze on him and without having to actually see, he knew that it was a very, very angry captain.

"What you said was really disgusting, Jae. You can be a bully to your friends, you can be a bully to our Quidditch mates cause that's how you all get along, but you can't be like that with her." The older one scolded him while frustratedly touched his temples. "Do you know how much she endures every day? YN is a really good person who doesn't deserve to be treated like this." 

And without thinking, like a terrible verbal vomit, Jaehyun only managed to answer. "What do I care about a Slytherin who's an orphan and a mudblood? Or do you LIKE her, Sangyeon, and that's why you defend her so much?

Sangyeon looked at his hoobae and friend just disappointed. "I've seen too many things about you Jae. Too many. As many good as bad. But I never expected to hear you talk like that one day. Do you realize how unpleasant it is?" The brunette let out a tired sigh. "We can be friends, Jaehyun, but not cause we're close I'm going to let you talk to me like that. And I'm not only your captain, I'm your prefect and my duty is to take care that no student behaves like this. Those are not our values as Gryffindors. It doesn't matter who you are."

Jaehyun felt heavy. And yes, he felt very embarrassed. But since he was in a streak with unfiltered replies, he said: "Ok then, where were you yesterday when YN attacked five students with magic?"

Immediately Sangyeon's countenance changed to a surprised one and he asked. "What happened to her?"

Stupid Jaehyun, can't you keep quiet? He berated himself inwardly as he regretted having said too much. He was no fool, Sangyeon was a very good person, but as a prefect he was quite strict because he played by the rules very rigidly. And he knew that this could bring you a lot of trouble.

"Jae, explain to me what happened with YN."

"Hyung, it's getting too late for my next class, see you in practice."

"No practice today. Not all week. You're grounded so you can reflect on your attitude."

"What the fuck, Sang?! We have a game soon, I can't stay without practicing."

"Tell me what happened with YN and I'll only give you 3 days."

The younger of the Gryffindors remained grumbling but stayed silent and left angrily without saying goodbye to his captain.

He was looking like a complete fool. And on top of that he was grounded. He couldn't help but think that these consequences were because you were meddling in his life, and he wasn't going to sit idly by.

As soon as you flew out of the classroom, Younghoon took his things more than quickly and ran after you until he caught up with you.

"YN…"

"I don't want to hear justifications on behalf of your stupid friend." You answered defensively without letting the blond say more.

"I'm not here to justify him. In fact, he is stupid. YN, you really, really, don't have to feel bad about anything that comes from Jae's poisonous mouth." You heard him say firmly while he searched for your gaze.

You turned to the opposite side and remained silent. You didn't want to talk about it.

You kept walking towards your potions class and while looking at the floor you saw that Younghoon was still next to you.

"Don't let Jae get to you… it's not worth it."  You heard him say in a pretty low voice that sounded sad.

"I… I receive comments like this, some much worse, every day. What Jaehyun said just joins to the huge list as one more."

The Slytherin boy probably didn't mean anything bad, but when he insisted on speaking again you looked at him and not knowing why, you spoke.

"Younghoon…"

He was startled to hear you say his name so softly.

"It's humiliating for me to have to acknowledge the way other people treat me. I don't want, I really don't want, to hear condolences of someone who has everything so easy in his perfect life." Your chest felt very heavy as you kept talking without thinking. "Juyeon doesn't understand that getting close to me has consequences. And not for him, for me it becomes worse! And if anyone else gets to hear the way Jaehyun is making fun of me, then they're all going to give themselves another free pass to tease me to death. And I… I'm just fed up.”

You felt your eyes sting but you tried not to blink so that no tears would fall. Younghoon was petrified in his place feeling all the sadness that emanated from you without you realizing it. It was heavy and gray. A very dark grey. And he didn't know why, but he just wanted to do something so you wouldn't feel like this anymore.

"You have no idea how horrible it is to hear something like that in front of one of the few people who speak well to me in this castle." You thought of Sangyeon and his worried face. "Mostly I'm afraid that he'll change his opinion about me… because then what will I have left?" You ended up whispering. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even know you were saying it all out loud.

Aloud. You started to panic. You shouldn't have said anything you just practically threw up. You stayed silent.

The two of you kept quiet and you panicked about everything you just spilled so you leave quickly. Younghoon stood there surprised and overwhelmed by the strong feelings of heaviness and sadness that he felt from you. He didn't get into your thoughts, but it wasn't necessary to know that you were feeling very bad even if you put up a strong front every day. And he knew it because he had been watching you from afar for years.

When Younghoon came to Hogwarts, he was even more shy and reserved than he is now. And not precisely because he didn't like to talk to people. On the contrary, he would rather talk to people than have to listen to them ALL the time in his head. But from a very young age, the young Slytherin developed strong abilities as a legilimens and it was very difficult for him to stop feeling or silence others. Also, his parents had constantly warned him about not being able to tell anyone how easy it was for him to get into people's minds because that information in the wrong hands could put him in danger.

So it was never his intention to get into any relationship with anyone other than his lifelong friends Jaehyun and Juyeon. This two guys who even though they knew about Younghoon's ability, always kept this knowledge only with them. And not only that, but they never treated him as someone different or showed that they had any hidden interest in what he could do.

Therefore, he had no idea why since his first day in Hogwarts, as his house prefect took them to their common room after the welcome dinner, he had been interested in the little girl who was frowning and stayed away from her other classmates.

Younghoon had felt something very strong when he met you and he didn't know how to identify it because it was very different from previous times with others. It had never happened to him that he didn't know the emotion emanating from a person, but he thought the easiest way to make it work was to name it after a color that was close enough. And because of that, most of the times he saw you, he subconsciously called you dark gray.

Throughout the years of the boy seeing you from a distance, he had realized how serious, scared, shy and annoyed you felt towards your peers.

He was no fool, he had soon realized the way they treated you, and sometimes he listened to what they said about you or even about your family. And he would always see how you "ignored" all that gossip, but he, far away and secretly, knew that you weren't immune to those attacks.

He also didn't understand the fact that someone genuinely enjoy spreading rumors with no idea where they came from or calling you names.

One of his favorites was the mudblood trash, cause they said you grew up in an orphanage without knowing who your parents were. He had also heard on other occasions that your parents had been drug-addicted Muggles who left you on your own. And still others said that your parents had died in the wizarding war for supporting the dark lord.

But Younghoon simply didn't think there was any truth to all those rumors.

After all, people liked to make up too much stuff about each other just to have something to talk about. They always thought it was okay, as long as it wasn't themselves. He knew it firsthand, and he kind of related because Younghoon wasn't the person everyone said he was.

Just like Jaehyun and Juyeon, but at least they knew each other and had each other for support, and it was still hard sometimes. So he didn't know how you'd put up with it for so long alone.

At first he didn't mean to poke around, and sometimes, even though he didn't like to admit it or was told it was wrong, he would dig a little inside for something he called "curiosity" because he wanted to know how you could look so composed and unruffled with so much on your shoulders. But inadvertently, that marked him when he began to notice your pain deep down when people annoyed you, he felt your loneliness, he felt your sadness, and he felt your anger almost as if they were from himself.

He had never felt a person like you.

But also, by observing you so much, there were moments he had seen that you smiled when you thought no one was seeing you, like when some difficult spell worked out for you, when you drank mint chocolate in winter or when you were in front of the windows of the common room and you saw the giant squid. And in those moments, dark gray didn't exist.

Nor did he think you were a bad person as many wanted to believe, because no one had to tell him that when he had seen you -while reading in the trees that overlooked the entrance to the forest- several times going in alone to play with some animals and to bring them food.

Or how you sometimes helped people behind their backs. Like when Ronda Patkins spent days crying in the common room because she couldn't find her cat and he accidentally looked when you found it and left it near her to make sure it came back to her. All so that days later he would hear the same girl talking bad about you.

He was very angry with people.

Younghoon didn't know why he cared so much about you, but he did and he had decided long ago that it was better to stop questioning him. In the end, no one but him knew and it was his own secret.

Now he knew that he had the opportunity to get close to you, the boy genuinely wanted you to feel safe and content in the company of someone. So you could have what you secretly yearned for inside.

The blond knew that he and Juyeon meant well, but with Jae being more of a jerk than usual, it was going to be hard for you to let them in.

You walked aimlessly just feeling panic. You were debating whether to get into your next class, where Juyeon would obviously want to talk to you, and you didn't feel confident enough to pretend nothing was wrong. And you couldn't see Younghoon either, who would also be there, after having blurted out everything you said to him. Damn, why did he have to be another stupid Slytherin.

So the most "prudent" decision that occurred to you was to quickly leave the castle and hide with a book in front of the black lake. At this time not many students would be in the area and it would help calm all the anxiety you were feeling.

You didn't even know where that explosion of words had come from and you felt too ashamed. For you, for a long time, having real human emotions had felt like something forbidden and wrong for you to do. And the worst thing is that you had dropped this whole facade in front of nothing more and nothing less than one of the members of the bermuda line. And not just any of the trio, but the quietest, most serious and most intimidating boy of them.

You didn't stop over analyzing the situation and probably right now he was thinking about how pathetic you were.

Your chest felt contracted, heavy. Your anxiety was still going at thousand miles. It was like you stripped naked in front of Younghoon and you just wanted to cringe the more you thought about it. And in the humiliating words of the stupid Jaehyun. And in the condescending face of Sangyeon, the boy you admired the most in that place.

As you walked along the shore of the lake, careful not to trip, going over a thousand conversations in your confused head, you felt someone tap your shoulder. You were so absorbed that you hadn't heard that someone was following you and you were so startled that without thinking twice or contemplating the consequences, you took out your wand and with a non-verbal spell (which you definitely couldn't use outside of class) you threw the person to the lake.

Oh no! Shit, shit, shit. What trouble did you just get yourself into? And if you ran from there? Did they know who you were? Have they seen your face? Would they accuse you? Of course they was going to accuse you. Would you help that person to get out of the lake? Of course, you weren't a murderer and you didn't even know if that person knew how to swim. What if one of the creatures in the lake hurt them?

You got as close as you could to the shore, squatted down, and stretched out your hand. Long fingers closed tightly around your wrist as you pulled and you heard:

"The fuck is wrong with you, YN!"

This couldn't be happening to you.

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