spookyunwon

[spookyunwon]

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!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @sunramzi @deobi0412 @kflixnet

[spookyunwon]

HOW TO SURVIVE SENIOR YEAR ☆

ERIC SOHN x reader 𝜗𝜚𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˗ˏˋ description:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : a chaotic how to guide on surviving high school with an 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 crush on the skater boy with the locker next to urs.

˗ˏˋ genre: ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭: pretty much chaos & fluff !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚ word count: ɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆: 5.4k+

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚ dt : ɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆: for bar! @sohnric sorry it’s so late ! ! yk, e v e r y t h i n g that’s been going on & i’m sure you don’t mind! merry late c h r i s t m a s i <3 u very much, i tried to incorporate everything for you… i think these prompts definitely reached the right person!! ৎ୭… so for my bar ! ! …..

# FRIDAY 21ST SEPTEMBER 1996

# MORNING! 🌥️

The unbearable series of screeching from the school bell, cued the sound of wheels scraping against the pavement outside. A pair of blue cargo jeans complimenting a classic pair of red jordan’s glued themselves to a skateboard as it began flipping and jumping curbs. The wire of a walkman dangling, the flimsy headphones leaking sounds of a noisy guitar through the hallway of the school.

“Eric Sohn. No skating in the corridor and you’re late to class.” A nerdy-looking hallway monitor approached the skateboard wielding boy, holding out some form of citation for Eric to sign with a wavering hand.

“I’m not signing that.” He laughed, snatching the sheet making sure to crumple it into a tight ball before throwing it behind him. “You didn’t see me. Thank me later.”

The hall monitor, whose name tag read ‘Younghoon’ looked down with eyeballs bulging from his skull at the cigarette in his palm, tears pricking his waterline. Eric continued to skate the corridors to his homeroom, biting into an apple with that jaw of his that had to have been sharpened by the gods-

at least…. that’s what you saw….

Eric was a childhood crush of yours, considering you two lived on the same street growing up and you still vividly remember the heart eyes that pumped from your skull when you watched him play basketball on his driveway from your windowsill every night after school. Everything he did was enchanting, he made the simplest things look hot and his charm was next level too.

As for what Kevin sat next to you was seeing: just some dude burping and blowing it into his friends face afterwards.

In your sick love fantasy, you still thought he was the funniest most angelic man to first stick his feet in the soil of the earth.

“If you wanna survive senior year, you need to stop staring at him like that. it’s gross and it’ll leave you the minute it gets heart eyes for anything else. How many times can we have this conversation?” Kevin laughed and scribbled down, ‘1. NO F**K BOYS (especially Eric Sohn)’ in bright red ink at the top of your page.

“So!” Your homeroom teacher waltzed into the room with a wide grin glowing from cheek to cheek. “The class of 96’ how do you feel?! Your time at this school is almost over! Some of us are setting good examples, sat in our actual chairs and not the table Mr. Sohn?”

You giggled as Eric turned with a sigh, crossing his arms and sinking into his seat, secretly you hoped he would catch eyes with you just for a second and share a smile. However, the boy just put his headphones back on and slammed his head on the wooden desk as if he were to fall asleep.

You looked down at the diary where,

“ 1. NO F**K BOYS ”

had been written so passionately by Kevin and thought, if you’re gonna make senior rules, you should at least make the best high school ‘how to’ guide the world has ever seen.

——

The entire school day, word had gotten about ‘Kyu’s first party of the semester’ renowned for his crazy mansion of a house, and parents that were home a concerningly small amount of the time. Happening tonight, you hadn’t even thought about what you were gonna wear yet, or the fact that Kyu himself was Eric’s bestfriend.

Eric had a rather large friend circle of boys in your year, from Juyeon who was into sports to Jacob who was a bit of a music nerd and closer to Kevin if anything. Despite this, neither you or Kevin had received an invite to Kyu’s house for later that day.

# LUNCHTIME ! 🍛

Filling your metal tray and sitting next to Kevin on the end of one of the empty lunch hall tables, before you you could even begin biting in the panini you’d paid for, it was snatched out of your hand by...

“Sunwoo, that was my sandwich.” You groaned, looking at your empty plate and then back at him with a glare. “Do you not have your own food?”

“This looked nicer than my food, just have it back.” He shrugged dumping the half eaten sandwich back on your plate.

“Oh no it’s all yours.” You smiled sarcastically watching as he smiled and took the sandwich back in one animalistic gulp.

“So sorry about that y/n. Isn’t he just awful? I got you a new one.” Hyunjae, as if the entire scene was staged, sits beside you with his hand smoothly rested on his cheek. He pushed a new sandwich in front of you with a carton of orange juice sat at the top of the tray.

You rolled your eyes before you almost tripped over your comically untied laces (how did both of them end up that way?) You flew backwards only to be caught by Hyunjae, once again returning to his cringey script.

“Falling for me, I see?” He smirked lifting you back to your feet as you sat down to retie your laces that had been undone by someone at some point in time.

“Is this just going to happen every lunchtime?” You cocked an eyebrow with a huff, tying bunny ears in your converse and briefly looking back up to the boy.

“Of course, however each time it just gets more creative.” He smiled confidently, you were unaware that these were romantic gestures since Hyunjae made it seem like one big joke with his extravagant concepts.

“Please make it stop.” You rolled your eyes and tucked into the new sandwich, Kevin laughing to himself. You began to zone out as you noticed Eric from across the canteen, sat on the table skateboard propped up and talking to his friends. He looked at you momentarily with a smile before you were interrupted by Hyunjae waving his hand in front of your face.

“Are you guys coming to kyu’s?” Hyunjae asked, biting into his own.

“No. We’re not cool enough.” Kevin began to fake cry, wiping invisible tears and squealing in a high pitched whine.

“He said anyone can come, of course you guys are invited. When has he ever asked anyone?” Sunwoo added punching Kevin the back lightly and taking a seat at the table. “Just show up.”

As lunch ended, you found yourself digging through your locker for the biology notes you’d written the other day. However as you dug through your shelf you just couldn’t find them.

“What you looking for?” A deep voice alarmed you, looking up to see Eric Sohn throwing his jacket in the locker that belonged to him next to yours.

“Oh. Uhm.” You stuttered for a moment, wondering if your eyes and ears were telling you the truth. “Just some notes for biology, we have a test coming up.”

“Oh yeah, you can borrow mine for now. Just slot them back in my locker on Monday.” Eric passed you a few pieces of A4 with neatly printed notes, the cigarette resting on his lips bobbing as he spoke.

“Thanks, that’s uh, really kind of you.” You smiled as he shook his head nonchalantly.

“It’s nothing, don’t stress.” He added before breezing past you to the exit of the school with a confident stride in his steps, his skateboard under his arms.

# EVENING 🌌 :📍Y/N’s HOUSE

“Okay so what are you wearing?” Kevin asked turning around in his sequin shirt and jeans, complimenting his outfit with a crossbody bag and sunglasses.

“Uhm. Not sure yet. Might go for baggy jeans and a sequin top too.. I have a lot.” You showed Kevin the options, watching as he scratched his chin and looked between them.

જ⁀➴ৎ୭ OUTFIT OPTIONS:

(feel free to mix & m a t c h!)

“Gorgeous!” Kevin smiled, fixing you a few necklaces of his behind your neck. You smiled and looked in the mirror briefly before setting off down the block.

The house pulsated the entire street as guests spilled in the front door to the infectious rhythm playing at max volume from the many speakers around the house. A kaleidoscope of vibrant lights drowned the space, as drinks circulated everyone from the kitchen.

House parties tended to be like some sort of cringe trashy and incomprehensible version of a homecoming dance for adults that you couldn’t seem to understand. Sure they were fun but, high school students embarrassing themselves sure wasn’t.

“Hey Kevin.” A very drunk Ji Changmin sauntered over to us at the entrance, “Who’s the plus one?”

As Changmin looked over with his devilish glare, apart of you started to get nervous. As if you were mixing with the wrong crowd, a gentle flip in your stomach warned you, something was about to go incredibly wrong.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself with a smile, as he passed you a beer from the many in his arms.

There was one thing that would determine whether someone would survive senior year: alcohol.

“2. PARTIES = STATUS”

Probably one of the most screwed survival tips, but unfortunately for teenagers who were just short of legal age a sip of liquor was enough to emphasise them as ‘cool’. Even if drinking is not your thing, the general consensus of being popular in senior year was to attend parties, host them and make lethal mistakes whilst there.

Throughout the night, you and Kevin found yourselves bouncing from group to group eventually watching Sangyeon and Juyeon play the most intense game of cup pong ever played in the competitive sports world.

♫ ANOTHER NIGHT - REAL MCCOY playing from speakers ♫

“Do you wanna take this one?” Sangyeon asked, holding the ping pong ball in front of you with a raised eyebrow.

“Me?” You asked laughing from the sidelines as he nodded, standing up properly you walked towards the table where most eyes were fixed on the table.

You’d gotten the grips of how to play, grasping the ball with a nervous clench before watching as Juyeon stared down the table with a sly smirk, his arms folded over his white tank top.

Bouncing off the table the ball hit the top of the few cups cups before landing in the fourth, making Juyeon’s total three. The crowd watching laughed as Juyeon threw his head back in defeat, taking the cup and gulping down its contents.

“Taking advantage of beginners luck is dirty play.” Juyeon shook his head at Sangyeon who laughed knowingly. “Whatever. If I land this you’re drinking this.”

Sure enough, as Juyeon bounced the ball across the table it landed in one of the two cups left leaving one. You’d hoped he’d missed not wanting to get to drunk around a group of people you’d never met. Nevertheless you took the cup and necked it’s contents, with a cheering crowd. Juyeon eventually won against Sangyeon, seeing the close of world’s most competitive game of cup pong.

A few drinks through the night, your brain chemistry had already began buzzing and the socialite in you stepped out of hiding, as you spoke to almost everyone you encountered. Hearing commotion from the living room, you dragged Kevin to investigate.

The room buzzed with anticipation as people gathered in a circle, forming a tight-knit group. Nervous giggles filled the air, drowned out by the music playing in the background. Sunwoo placed a bottle in the center of the circle, ready to determine the first pair of an early game of ‘spin the bottle’.

With a flick of his wrist, the bottle spun, its rotation echoing the excitement in the room. Hearts raced as it slowed down, pointing towards its chosen target. The room held its breath as the Sunwoo locked eyes with a girl he’d had a crush on for most of his childhood, their cheeks flushing bright pink as he made eye contact. With a playful smile, Sunwoo picked out one of the ‘fates’ written in the hat, revealing the crumpled paper to the crowd.

“Kiss.” He laughed nervously, smiling as she was, the circle squealed in anticipation. He leaned in to give her peck which raised a “booo” from the crowd at the underwhelming gesture.

“Y/N JOIN IN.” Hyunjae yelled from the group, causing the circle to laugh at how pathetic he was. You jokingly stepped behind Kevin to hide as “Join” began to be chanted in the room, persuading you to sit down in a gap made by Hyunjae and Haknyeon.

You took the bottle and spun it, the booze causing nerves to disappear. As the bottle began to slow down, Hyunjae grabbed the glass pointing it towards him - no one protesting considering this was his life long goal.

You sighed, hoping the paper in the hat wouldn’t do you dirty in this situation, looking up you noticed a familiar figure. Eric’s eyes stared down at you, stood from the other side of the circle, rested against the mantlepiece in his tank top and baggy jeans - a bottle of beer gripped loosely in his hands.

All of a sudden, your hands began to shake in adrenaline, Hyunjae’s eyes wavering as he noticed the way you looked up at the other boy. You began to unfold one of the pieces of paper from the hat, “7 minutes in heaven” you could have screamed. This was truly a worst case scenario, as the circle cheered and Sunwoo ushered the two of you to the bathroom.

Hyunjae locked the door with a sigh, sitting both legs in the bathtub and taking a lengthy swig of his beer in a saddened manner.

“Are you not going to do anything?” You asked curiously, folding your arms and taking a seat on the toilet cover.

“No.”He sighed, resting the bottle on the side and turning to look at you with an inquisitive stare, his eyebrows furrowing as if they contemplating internal questions.

“Why not?” You asked further, leaning forward as Hyunjae’s confident demeanour seemed to have suspiciously faltered.

“I see the way you look at him.” He suddenly spat, as if something within him snapped. “You’ll never give it up will you. Everyday, I do something to make you laugh, smile and show you someone cares. Yet… Every time I try, you’re still staring at that motherfucker who wants nothing to do with you.”

“Sorry?” You asked almost confused, the outburst seemingly unnecessary as he went to speak again but was interrupted by an ominous banging at the door.

“I get you guys are probably exchanging cooties in there, but I need to shit.” The sweet sound of Haknyeon’s charming voice and vocabulary echoed through the bathroom causing you to hold back a laugh in the situation.

“Listen y/n. I need to ask a favor.” Hyunjae proposed, stopping you from reaching for the handle of the door. “My parents have been bugging me about having a girlfriend, since my brother has one now and they’re telling me I’m a good for nothing man who will never be able to commit to someone. Which is kind of true. But will you pretend to be my girlfriend to get them off my back?”

“Will I? Hmmm….” You pretend to think for a second before retorting with a loud. “NO.”

“Please. I’ll help you get him, I’ll do everything I can to help you win Eric over. I’m one of his bestfriends.” Hyunjae’s eyes glistened in genuine sparkle, an expression you’d only come across once or twice in your life.

“I’ll think about it. But for now, it’s not a yes or a no.” You closed the conversation, head spinning as you opened the door, Haknyeon spilling into the bathroom and beelining straight for the toilet.

“3. DONT PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE’s GIRLFRIEND WHILST YOUR TRYING TO GET THE ATTENTION OF THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE.”

Oddly specific rule, however as you proceeded down the stairs it seemed you wouldn’t have to convince people you were dating - their dirty minds had already assumed what had happened in that bathroom.

“You’re on.” You looked back at Hyunjae with a smile before linking arms with Kevin to leave, the party only dying down in the early hours of the morning.

# SATURDAY 22ND SEPTEMBER 1996

# MORNING 🌥️

The gentle rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, birds began chirping outside, and the comforting aroma of breakfast drifted from the kitchen. Your eyes stuck together and your head booming with music from the night before, on the floor Kevin was sprawled emitting gentle snores.

The sound of a car horn outside, immediately brought you to your senses, with your fingers your gently moved the curtain to see Hyunjae leant against his car.

“Your dating Hyunjae?” Kevin asked, giving you the fright of your life as he appeared over your shoulder.

“No.” You immediately refuted, getting shivers from the sickly idea of having to date such a inferior choice of male.

“So why’s he here?” Kevin asked with a sarcastic voice, laughing at the stupidity of the scene.

“We’re dating but like just so his family gets off his back.” You sighed, standing up out of bed and beginning to make yourself look more presentable.

“You’re FAKE dating, Hyunjae?” Kevin’s jaw dropped even more than it already was if that was even possible. “That isn’t gonna look good to lover boy now is it?”

“Listen, he’s helping me get him. He’s on the inner circle, if I have a chance of getting Eric this is it.” You sighed taking your clothes to change in your arms.

“I’m calling Jacob.” Kevin suddenly added, pulling out his nokia with its antenna.

“Don’t you dare he said don’t call unless it’s emergencies, he’s in exam mode.” You recalled, knowing Jacob is practically unreachable during exam season.

“This is an emergency.” Kevin emphasised each word with a sarcastic edge.

“It’s not and if you call him, I’ll make your life so difficult.” You pointed at the boy with a warning finger before walking out to meet Hyunjae in front of his car.

♫ ALL THE SMALL THINGS - BLINK 182 playing from the car radio ♫

“Hey.” You smiled, climbing into the passenger seat of his car, the soft top rolled down so the breeze would eventually leave you wind swept. “Where we heading?”

“Bowling with my parents.” Hyunjae grumbled, more than happy you were in his car but visibly stressed with the entire situation.

“Is this all I have to do and I’m not your girlfriend anymore?” You suggested, leaning your head on the side of the car and letting the wind catch your face.

“Should be. Then I’ll tell you all about him.” Hyunjae chuckled, one hand on the steering wheel and another raking through his hair.

The bowling alley downtown was lively, decorated with neon lights and the sound of crashing pins. The smell of hot dogs and nachos wavering faintly in the air. The lanes are filled with laughter and ‘friendly’ competition.

Hyunjae swiftly introduced you to his mother and father, who looked you up and down before sending him an impressed smile.

“I’ll have to warn you dear y/n, they both get a bit competitive.” Hyunjae’s mother smiled as Hyunjae age his dad began squaring up to each other in the lane.

Whilst you were putting on your shoes, you felt a pair of eyes on you from somewhere unable to tell where.

“Hey y/n!” A familiar cheerful voice greeted you, looking up shell shocked you saw Eric, dressed in his work uniform with a lollipop. You felt your heart shatter, Hyunjae had to know he worked here, he set you up, but why?

Eric looked gorgeous in uniform you had to say, his pinstriped shirt and jeans complimented by the blue cap. However, you had bigger issues.

“You on a date with Hyunjae?” He asked, polishing a pair of shoes behind the counter next to you, happening to notice how pretty his hands were. “You look pretty, he’s a lucky guy.”

What did he say?

“Oh Eric! You met my girlfriend! This is y/n!” Hyunjae wrapped an arm around you with a condescending smile, for you everything felt as if it had frozen in time.

Eric swivelled the lollipop in his mouth for a moment, observing the look of shock you’d tried to conceal with a smile on your face and chuckled to himself.

“Landed a nice one there haven’t you buddy?” Eric almost began to patronise his bestfriend, a look of suspicious nature hidden in his big smile like a cheshire cat.

“I’m just going to go to the bathroom.” You giggled before excusing yourself to the toilets across the arena with a nervous pace.

“Well that backfired.” A voice sounded, someone pulling you back from one of the booths in the canteen. Kevin and Jacob sat like spies with sunglasses tuxedos and newspapers had been watching the entire time.

“He set me up.” You sighed putting your hands in your head. “I know he’s jealous of him but i didn’t think he’d go this far.”

“It’s Hyunjae. This is probably hilarious content to him.” Kevin rolled his eyes as Jacob nodded along, them both peering around the corner to watch the scene unfold.

“Y/n have you ever considered that Eric might like you?” Jacob asked taking his sunglasses off to look at you properly before you answered.

“He definitely doesn’t like me like that, maybe as a friend?” You suggested, twiddling your thumbs together over the wooden surface.

“Well he doesn’t seem to like the entire you and Hyunjae thing.” He added looking back over to the icy conversation between the two boys at the check in desk - Hyunjae’s parents stepping in to tell him they were ready to play.

“How can you tell?” You furrowed your brows in confusion, waiting for the reply as he began to speak.

“Duck! He’s coming.” Kevin quickly hid you under table covering you with his jacket as they both got back to their newspapers.

“Kevin?” The sound of Hyunjae’s voice from above the surface startled. “You seen y/n anywhere?”

“No? I saw her come in with you.” Kevin cleverly redirected the question allowing the boy to shrug and walk in a different direction looking for you.

“I told you these disguises wouldn’t work, we needed the moustaches.” Kevin hissed across the table to Jacob, the both of them having watched a few too many over the summer.

“Listen what do I do? Because I can’t tell Eric I’m fake dating Hyunjae because then he’d find out I was doing it because I have a stupid little thing for him!” You exclaimed, frustrated as you’d fell right in to Hyunjae’s trap.

“4. DON’T FALL FOR YOUR CRUSH’S BESTFRIENDS BLACKMAIL”

“I wouldn’t call it little. But hope things work out for you!” Jacob smiled angelically ignoring the pain shimmering in your eyes.

“Me too!” They began to gather their things ave scramble, about to take flight from the situation.

“Where are you guys going?” You asked panicked they were about to ditch you and leave the sticky situation.

“Getting you out of here.” Kevin replied taking your arm and sprinting out of the nearest exit - they may have set an alarm off for opening a fire door but oh well.

“5. DO HAVE FRIENDS THAT WILL GET YOU OUT OF SITUATIONS YOU CAUSED YOURSELF”

# MONDAY 24TH SEPTEMBER 1996

After hibernating in your bed for the rest of the weekend and 13 times Kevin had tried to ring the landline to check if you were okay. It was time to face them all at school and you could not think of anything worse.

“Oh my god. It’s aliveeee.” Kevin acts out a poor excuse of a Frankenstein impression as you laughed and breezed past him to your locker.

“If you see Hyunjae hide me.” You chuckled as he signed ‘rodger that’ with a salute and began rambling about the pasta he cooked for dinner the night before.

All of a sudden you were pushed into the locker, Kevin stood in front on you casually reading a book as Hyunjae walked by with a question mark above his head. He didn’t bother asking where you were, assuming if you weren’t with Kevin you weren’t there at all.

You eventually broke free of the hiding spot, fixing your hair and brushing down your clothes. The sound of wheels rolling down the corridor coming to a halt beside you.

“Were you?-” Eric was about to ask but refrained considering Kevin was signing ‘cut’ and ‘shush’ behind you flailing his arms around like a maniac.

“Here’s your notes.” You smiled, a touch of pink rising to your cheeks as your hand grazed his defined one, the notes you’d borrowed in pristine condition.

“Thanks, cutie.” He smiled, the nickname causing you to freeze up in your tracks, you knew he only said it out of courtesy or like the others that was ‘just his personality’ but it made your heart melt - as you watched him skate down the corridor, his biceps flexing to maintain balance.

You managed to survive your classes without being berated by Hyunjae or any of his friends, having to sadly eat lunch in a cubicle surely wasn’t a high moment of yours.

Soon the bell was sounding for the end of the day as students flocked out of the grounds excited for the school’s baseball match that evening.

“There she is!” You heard an annoyingly shrill voice yell from behind you, as you were about to cross the car lot. Behind you was Eric Hyunjae and Juyeon, walking in a line towards you whilst Eric was on his skateboard.

“Told you I saw her.” Eric laughed as you were clearly avoiding Hyunjae at all costs, you turned with a bitter smile as they got closer.

“You coming to Eric’s big game tonight?” Juyeon asked giving a friendly elbow to Eric, clearly nervous as it was the first big game of the season.

Eric looked at you with an ounce of hope, only to be quickly shot down, but you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes sparkled at the idea.

“No she’s actually got a date with me.” Hyunjae answered for you with a snide tone, eyes flickering towards you.

“No,no. I think I’ll go.” You smiled, “I really like baseball.”

“I don’t wanna interrupt you guys.” Eric looked between you both with something suspicious lingering behind his eyes as he turned his baseball cap to the left.

“You’re not interrupting us! Perhaps this ‘date’ can be on the pitch.” You suggested looking at Hyunjae’s wide eyes, knowing his plan was falling to pieces but he couldn’t disagree, not in front of everyone.

“Cool.” Eric smiled smugly, “See you there.”

You watched as him and Juyeon walked to the pitch for pre-match practice. Not wanting to spare Hyunjae anymore time, you walked at lightning speed in the direction of your house, ignoring him yelling your name from behind you.

“Y/n give me a second.” Hyunjae caught up to you on the sidewalk, grabbing your arm to turn you around. “You don’t have to do this anymore, go get him. It’s clear you’ll always love him and I can’t change that. I’m sorry, I took it too far.”

Despite the fact you appreciated the apology it seemed as if it was a little to late, he’d already tried to bring everything crashing down between you and Eric and now he thinks the both of you are on a date at his game. You smiled at him and nodded, swiftly turning on your heels and rushing home.

# LET’S GO H A W K S, LET’S G O O O !!🏟️

The chanting of cheerleaders and commotion amongst the crowd sang from outside of the pitch, Kevin and Jacob having already bought snacks rushed to a bench with good sight of the pitch.

“I’m so excited for this, there’s literally no way we lose.” Kevin watched as your school team walked out on to the pitch, immediately spotting Eric and making smoochy faces at you.

You didn’t notice too much of Kevin’s torment, as you were captivated by the sight of him. Eric looked up at the bleachers as if he was scanning the crowd for someone in particular his eyes landed on you for a moment - or Kevin maybe even Jacob.

The game commenced, no home-runs were scored by the competition and our team was not looking to beat them either. Time was running out as the ball left the hand of the pitcher, Eric stood in formation waiting for the ball to reach him. He swung the bat behind him and hit the ball with astonishing force triggering a roar from the crowd. He made a run for it, it was a home-run, the winning home-run.

“Go get him girl.” Kevin said as the players began to leave the pitch, watching as you ran off immediately to find him.

You patiently waited outside the locker rooms for him, knowing the other players would be tossing him around and winding him up. He eventually emerged from the lockers, wet hair and a towel around his neck.

“Can I talk to you?” You asked as he caught eyes with you, confused to why you’d waited.

“Sure, where’s Jae?” He asked, following you as you began to walk to somewhere more private.

“I’ll explain all of that.” You sighed, looking back at the boy for a moment, feeling your heartbeat pause in time as the sunlight hit his skin.

You both made your way under the bleachers, Eric already making a joke about what happens underneath them before even getting there.

“Eric. I have to say this otherwise one day I’m going to implode.” You began, your heart facing the adrenaline kicking through your veins and it was as if a theme park was screaming in your stomach. “I like you.”

A silence sat amongst you, the conflict in his eyes bouncing back and forth making you increasingly apprehensive for what he was about to say.

“Y/n I can’t do this to Hyunjae. Listen I really like you but that’s my-” Eric tried to collect himself, holding on to the top of the bleachers with one arm and wiping his forehead with the other.

“Eric we’re not dating! I know you can see that.” You pleaded with him, watching as his gorgeous eyes twisted to confusion.

“You’re not?” He asked, more than confused.

“No…. I agreed to ‘fake’ date him to get his parents off his back and to get to know more about you. But.. he took it too far and I think he might’ve been jealous I liked you.” You admitted, chewing your bottom lip and looking anywhere but at the boy fresh off the pitch in his baseball uniform.

“I don’t know because what if you’re lying to me.” He suggested, you couldn’t get offended because what if you were?

“Eric you’ve known me since we were kids I wouldn’t lie to you, I wouldn’t get anything out of doing that.” You reassured him, watching him contemplate ideas in his head as if mini cogs were turning.

“Y/n I know I don’t show it, but I really was interested in you but Hyunjae I couldn’t hurt him. Do you mind if I?” He asked, pulling you closer to him with his back leant up against the metal beam behind him.

“Of course I don’t.” You smiled, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched that beautiful grin of his spread across his lips, his brown eyes sparkling down with the sunset peaking through the gaps of the rows.

He kissed you, so sweetly, so gently, holding your face with the palm of his hand and bringing your waist closer as your stomach flipped and your heart filled with love. As you parted he brought you into his arms, it was the warmest hug that just felt as if everything was right.

“Now that you’ve said it, it makes sense. I’ve never seen someone avoid their boyfriend so much until now.” He laughed thinking of the time you escaped the bowling alley with Kevin and Jacob and further went to extreme lengths to avoid him at school too.

You giggled in his arms, looking up to his face that smiled back down at you, gently moving in for another kiss.

“I think I won twice today.” Eric laughed, giddy with excitement the grin on his face practically beaming from ear to ear.

That’s how you sort of survived senior year.

tagging: @juyeonszn @deobienthusiast 🤍

[spookyunwon]

crocheted flowers

hyunjae x reader

when hyunjae, the man who you hate and who hates you in return, becomes your temporary bodyguard, the two of you surprisingly grow closer through misunderstandings and... flirting.

genre: enemies to lovers, royal au, bodyguard hyunjae, flirting, slow dancing, he's very strong, and very protective, yet so gentle, misunderstandings, past mistreatment mentioned notes: hahahahahaha word count: 13k

Even with your head resting on your palm, it still lolled down. Were your eyes being taped shut? Why couldn’t you keep them open? Maybe it was because you were crocheting late into the night. Still, this meeting couldn’t be any more boring.

“Are you listening, Your Highness?” 

Immediately, you jerked up, blinking your eyes rapidly. You looked around, squinting through your exhaustion. Everyone sitting around the table had their eyes on you–some looked concerned, some amused, and some… disappointed. 

“What? Yes, yes,” you stammered. “I’m listening.”

The stern-looking woman stared at you for a second before eventually nodding. She was horribly intimidating, though you understood why. She was the event organizer (you liked to call her party planner instead) so she had to ensure everything was perfect.

“The ball is confirmed to be two weeks from now…” 

You yawned, adjusting your clothes which were very uncomfortable, dare you add. When you looked around, you made eye contact with Haknyeon, your bodyguard. He grinned and mocked your sleeping form with exaggerated hand signs which you scoffed at quietly. When you moved your head to the side, your eyes landed on Hyunjae, your other bodyguard. 

Quickly, your mood soured just at the sight of him. You try to avoid speaking his name or addressing him at all, but whenever you do, it’s spoken with a harsh, uncaring tone. It’s not like he didn’t share the same feelings.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning forward and tilting his head. Then, he glanced down at the papers set in front of you that you were supposed to be looking over right now.

Focus, he mouthed.

Your jaw clenched and you tore your gaze away from him stubbornly. Th2ough, you did actually decide to tune into the meeting. You were pretty sure you heard your name about three times.

“As requested by the King, Y/n’s escort will not be a prince from another land. At least for now. Instead, her escort shall be her personal bodyguard.”  

You perked up at that. You’ve always despised the possibility that you would be forced to walk into a ball with some stuck-up prince that you had met just a minute ago. With a smile, you turned to look at Haknyeon. He was your personal bodyguard, the one who follows you around all day. Hyunjae on the other hand, had the role of guarding your door. So thankfully, your escort was Haknyeon and not him.

But to your surprise, Haknyeon quickly looked away with a sheepish look. You furrowed your eyebrows. Did he not want to be your escort? 

Please no, I can’t go with Hyunjae. Anyone but him.

After the meeting, you walked out, still slightly groggy after your mid-meeting nap. Instantly, Haknyeon was by your side like the perfect bodyguard that he was. You sighed, holding your stomach as you turned to him. “Do you want to eat lunch with me during your break?” 

Yet again, he gave you a guilty look. “I have something… to do.” 

“Oh,” you breathed. “That’s okay. Just make sure to make it up next time,” you playfully replied.

“Of course, Y/n.” He grinned back. That was another thing you liked about Haknyeon. He didn’t often call you ‘Your Highness’ which you always felt was too proper. You liked it when he called you just by your name. 

“Want me to save you dessert?” You giggled.

He hummed, his eyes sparkling just at the thought. “You know me so well.” He glanced back at one of the staff calling him over. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and watched him jog over to pick up some equipment. Haknyeon would always be your favorite bodyguard. He was kind and had a great sense of humor. Especially after following you around and protecting you for a few years, he knew a lot about you compared to really… anyone else.

You heard a shift behind you and you whipped around. Your alert state quickly dissolved into an annoyed one as you faced Hyunjae who was leaning against the wall, right next to you. 

You narrowed your eyes. “Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to go back to your post?”

He turned to look at you before turning to face the wall. He liked to do that–ignore you rudely. “Haknyeon’s occupied right now. You can’t be alone.”

You roll your eyes and clenched a fist. Oh, how you hated his stupid, unimpressed expression and his even stupider arms that were crossed over his chest. “I don’t need your help,” you gritted out.

“And I don’t want to help you. This is just my job.” He merely glanced at you. 

You swore you saw red as you stepped forward. “You–” 

You were then startled by Haknyeon who appeared behind you, gently guiding you back from possibly pouncing on one of your bodyguards. “Y/n,” he laughed nervously as he pulled you along in the direction of your room. “I think you’re tired. How long have you been crocheting?”

“A few hours,” you muttered. “But still, I’m not tired. He’s just so… obnoxious. And mean! And–” You just groaned, completely frustrated.

Being born into a royal family, you naturally already had enemies, most of them being from other lands or old classmates you used to argue with. But you didn’t pay them any mind. The only enemy that you did pay mind was Hyunjae, your own bodyguard. You hated him so much.

He was strict with you and never treated you nicely. He never even gave you a reason for doing so. It was like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed, every single day. He always had these snarky responses and annoyed glares directed only at you. You just couldn’t stand him. 

And that is why you would like to sincerely thank whoever invented hot showers. You didn’t care if it practically burned your skin, it always let off those knots in your muscles whenever you interacted with your arch-nemesis bodyguard. With damp hair and your sleepwear on, you headed back to your room.

Usually, at this time, Hyunjae was on his break, meaning he wouldn’t witness you without your usual attire and with messy, disheveled hair. You were always expected to look your best in front of others, whether you liked them or not.

But just as you turned the corner, you stopped abruptly in your tracks, almost slipping on the floor. His post was supposed to be empty yet he was standing right there. 

Cautiously, you approached your door with an annoyance already creeping up your spine. “Why are you here?”

“Funny, that’s the second time you asked.” His eyes narrowed when he noticed you tensing at his words. “Again, it’s my job. My break got pushed back.”

You took in a deep breath as if that would do anything to calm your anger. “You’re so… rude. What would your boss think?”

“Technically, you’re my boss.”

You blinked in realization before quickly schooling your face neutrally.

“And even so—“ He paused when he heard a sound from down the hallway. He almost became… alert. Sometimes, you forget that he was still a bodyguard. When he realized it was just a broom that had simply fallen over, he relaxed and turned back to you. “I couldn’t care less.”

“You’ll care when I fire you,” you spoke through your teeth. Yet, he only stared at you unimpressed.

“But you know that I’m the best option. How could you let me go?” He faked a pout. You stayed quiet, knowing that he was right. The other bodyguards were a bit too… energetic and admiring for your liking.

You sighed, glancing at your door. “Still, you shouldn’t see me like this.” You eyed yourself who was the opposite of put together right now. “There’s a reason why I wanted you on break.” You looked away, slightly embarrassed.

You could feel his eyes on you, or more specifically, traveling over you. Then he hummed, almost amused.

“I see no difference, Your Highness.”

“Ah, so you’re a liar too.”

He looked like he was about to refute but he eventually sighed and gestured to your room. “Just go to your room.”

—

The next day, you stood at the entrance of the same meeting room. When the door opened, you were met with the sight of your two bodyguards as well as the event organizer standing, seemingly waiting for you. You gulped. Were you in trouble for falling asleep? No, that can’t be.

“What’s this about?” You spoke nervously. Your eyes landed on Haknyeon, who was frowning and giving you pitiful eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

The woman cleared her throat. “Everything’s perfectly fine. Your bodyguard here…” She gestured to Haknyeon. “Was granted a month of vacation to go back home.”

You immediately brightened at those words, bounding over to Haknyeon and hugging him tightly. “That’s great!” You exclaimed. “You deserve it. So much.”

Haknyeon smiled back but frowned afterward. “I’ll miss you though,” he whined.

“Hey, it’s only a month. Besides, you should enjoy yourself.” 

“…and,” the woman continued. “That will mean that Hyunjae will temporarily take his place as your personal bodyguard.” 

That was when you froze, going so silent you could hear a pin drop. You turned to her with your mouth agape and your heart fallen to the floor. “What.”

She only offered a measly smile while you could only stare in disbelief. Was this possibly your punishment for taking a nap during the meeting? Have you been chosen for torture on this planet? Why—

“Why couldn’t you choose anyone else? It could be anyone but him.” You glared at Hyunjae who also seemed surprised and agitated.

She pinched the bridge of her nose with a long sigh as if she expected this response. “Because Hyunjae knows more about you than any of the other bodyguards. He’s the best choice who is aptly strong and calm, especially for someone of your energy.”

“But you know we don’t get along,” you refuted. 

She frowned but eventually nodded, understanding your argument. “Your Highness, if you would really like to request a change then let me know. But if you were to keep your relationship with him strictly professional, then there should be no problems.”

“I…” You bit your lip. You wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t want to change, but you also hated the idea of being a burden, especially for someone who was so preoccupied with setting up the ball. Shutting your eyes with a wince, you groaned quietly in defeat. “Fine. I guess we can manage for a month.”

“Great!” She clapped enthusiastically while Haknyeon snorted in amusement. “I’ll be off now.”

Once she was gone, you could hear your now former bodyguard laugh, clearly enjoying the show. Then he stepped forward and turned to Hyunjae with a knowing look.

“What are you waiting for?” His tone was nothing but teasing. “Go stand by Y/n.”

Hyunjae stared at him, obviously annoyed before reluctantly going to your side. You looked up at him before rolling your eyes. He was awfully tall, which made it a lot harder to really argue with him.

“What a view,” Haknyeon laughed even louder. 

“I don’t want to do this either,” Hyunjae whispered, looking at you with a harsh demeanor.

“At least we agree on something.”

—

You stalked through the halls, your mood completely ruined. What exasperated you even more was the footsteps trailing behind you, belonging to your new temporary bodyguard, the one man that you despised.

You stopped abruptly and turned around.

“Can you just not follow me? I think I can manage on my own. I especially don’t want to be with you.”

He simply looked at you without budging. “You know I can’t do that, Your Highness.”

You sighed at his mocking tone, exasperated before turning around and beginning to walk again. Well, before you stopped abruptly once more, causing Hyunjae to almost bump into you. Something just dawned on you, leaving your chest seizing for air.

“Does that mean you’re my… escort for the ball?” You seriously contemplated somehow pushing back the ball until next month. There was no way it would be in two weeks when you would have to enter the ballroom with your hand on his arm.

He nodded wordlessly, obviously not happy about it either.

“God, I hate this,” you mumbled, leaning your head back. “You’re going to be the worst bodyguard ever.”

“And do you think I really consider that important?” He stared back at you condescendingly. 

“You–” Stepping forward, you completely forgot that there was still that broom on the floor. How come no one picked it up? Maybe you should have been more aware. Being the clumsy person you were, your foot quickly caught onto it, leaving you stumbling forward. This was why it was important you had a bodyguard following you around.

You were about to accept your fate of a broken nose until you felt a cool hand grasp your wrist that was flailing mid-air, holding you up. You blinked in surprise, looking up only for you to realize that you were alarmingly close to Hyunjae’s face. 

He didn’t seem at all fazed though, watching as you, on the other hand, were incredibly shocked over his sheer strength of being able to hold you up with one hand. 

“I wouldn’t advise stepping there.” If you looked closely, you could see the corners of his lips lift slightly at his own remark. “There’s a broom on the floor.”

You scoffed, pulling away harshly. “Thank you so much for the warning.”

“Anytime.” He faked a bow.

“Oh, you–” You paused before you would fall over again. “You know what? Just shut up. Let’s just not talk for a month.”

“Fine by me.” 

As you walked, you were surprised to hear that there were no footsteps behind you anymore. With curiosity getting the best of you, you turned around, only to see that he had stopped to pick up the broom and set it back up.

“Huh,” you breathed, slightly surprised.

(Hyunjae sighed, sitting down on the couch and throwing an arm over his eyes. He was exhausted and he had only followed you for an hour. How was he going to do this every day and for a month at that?

He heard a creak and the weight of someone else sitting beside him. Looking over, he was met with Haknyeon, again with a gloating expression. It seemed that he had brought his luggage over, already packed and ready to leave him with you. Alone.

“Excited?” The shorter grinned smugly.

“Don’t kid me,” Hyunjae sighed with a frown. “I honestly wished they would have requested another guard at this point. All I was supposed to do was guard the door, not follow them around all day.”

Haknyeon hummed thoughtfully before leaning back with him. “Can I ask you something?” When Hyunjae offered no response, the younger continued. “Why do you hate Y/n so much? What did they do to make you despise them that much?”

Hyunjae paused before letting out a low sigh. “Nothing. I just… I’ve had my fair share of royalties.” His mind flashed back to when he used to be in one of the lower ranks of the staff. He was never treated right, always pushed around and spoken to harshly by none other than the royal family who promised that they would protect him with all their being. Lies. He had always wanted to be a bodyguard. But in the process of becoming one, he realized just how cruel people can be.

And so, when he was actually promoted to be one, he already entered the position with low hopes and crushed dreams. He expected the exact same treatment from you.

“Y/n’s probably just the same.”

Haknyeon looked at him sympathetically, as if to tell solely through his eyes that he understood where he was coming from. “But Y/n’s different. I promise you that. After spending so much personal time with them, trust me when I say that they’re not like the others.”

Hyunjae could only shut his eyes before mumbling a quiet, “Enjoy your vacation. I’ll be suffering.”)

–

“Please stop staring,” you forced out. You knew that just the day before you had suggested not talking, but something about his… face as he looked at you through the reflection of your mirror bothered you so much to the point that you had to say something. His eyes were different than you expected as if he was almost interested in you getting ready for an outing.

But then, as obnoxious as he was, he faked a smile, leaning back against the wall. “I can’t do that, Your Highness. What if someone’s out there to hurt you?”

“That’s unlikely. So please stop whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I’m merely looking at you. Does that make you nervous?” 

Your face contorted with anger at his words. “Hyunjae!” You groaned, setting down your makeup brush with a loud thud and turning around to glare at him.

“What?” He muttered.

“This is just for one month.” You straightened and walked over to him. You tried to look somewhat intimidating but knowing that he was the one whose job was to protect you, it was a bit difficult. “Can’t you be the least bit tolerable? I don’t even know why you hate me so much.”

He stared at you wordlessly before looking away with his jaw clenched. “I have my reasons.”

You huffed. “Well if you would tell me, maybe we could have worked this out.” Your shoulders hurt with how tense they were as you began to walk backwards. But yet again, you tripped. This time, it was on the carpet—the fancy type that seemed impossible to walk on.

Unlike before though, you fell backwards. One day you were going to end up with a broken bone. Your life flashed before your eyes until you felt a strong hand wrap around your waist. 

Quickly, he pulled you up and right against his body. Without you realizing, you had planted your hands on his chest, creating the distance that was very minimized considering how firmly he was holding you. You could feel the wind get knocked out of you, out of breath as you stared at Hyunjae with wide eyes.

His eyes searched your features carefully. His expression was mostly the same except for how the harsh lines on his face had disappeared for some reason.

“I said you can’t get hurt.” His voice was also… less harsh.

You gulped as you lifted your hands off his chest. But some part of you kept your fingertips there, feeling his heartbeat drum against them. Your cheeks felt warm as you stared at him wordlessly, trying to come up with some sort of response.

“I…” Your voice wavered. “I wish you were bad at your job.”

And to your surprise, he smirked. “Oh? Are you saying that I’m good at protecting you?”

Your hands wandered down to his which still grasped your waist. You squeezed it, reminding him to let go because, for some reason, he forgot. He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“Do not put words in my mouth.” And when he still didn’t let go, you grabbed hold of it instead, pulling it off and ignoring the spark you felt at his touch.

—

It would no longer be Haknyeon following you around the whole day. It would be him. Oh, how you hated him. You hated your clumsiness as well, considering that he kept on saving you by holding you with the sheer strength of just one arm.

Refreshed after a good night’s sleep, you opened your door before jumping at the sight of Hyunjae standing before you. Yet again, you were reminded of how annoyingly tall he was as he stepped aside for you.

“Your Highness,” he greeted with a lazy voice.

You stared at him silently before turning on your heel and heading down the hall. But no matter how fast you walked and no matter how many turns you took, he remained behind you.

(Hyunjae followed silently as you traversed through the never-ending halls. He had never seen a royal member willingly walk through the whole castle before, or even leave their section at all. 

He watched, intrigued and curious as you turned every corner, occasionally knocking on doors and peeking in. You seemed to be having conversations with whoever resided inside. That was what perplexed him more. You were in the section of the castle where the staff stayed.

If he walked closer or you would slow down slightly, he could hear you mumbling to yourself, as if to make a to-do list.

“Make… soup…no!…she’s allergic.” 

He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in pleasant surprise.)

“What’s the rush?” He remarked, just as you were finished speaking with one of the maids. 

You glanced back at him. “I have much to do. If you don’t want to follow, then go as you please.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I can’t do that?”

You stared at him for a moment before sighing. At least he was dedicated. “Then hurry up you… turtle.”

You must have been dreaming because why did his lips lift up into a smile for a second? And how come you heard a chuckle?

And then, to your slight shock, he sped up so that he was walking by your side. Even if you tried to confuse him by taking shortcuts, he continued to accompany you.

“You—“

“Just doing my job, Your Highness.”

You rolled your eyes at the way he always addressed you.

—

First, he followed you to the kitchen. He guarded the doorway, as always leaning against the wall. 

You felt his eyes on you as you moved past each cabinet, pulling out ingredients for your most beloved specialty: pancakes! You knew the measurements by heart and soon enough, the batter was already mixed and being poured into a pan.

You could see him tilt his head in the corner of your eye.

“What are you cooking for?” He spoke up. “You do know we have chefs for that.”

“I know that.” You flipped the pancake successfully for once. “Just… one of the staff fell sick so I wanted to make her something.”

His eyes widened slightly as he straightened up at your words. It seemed like something you said had shocked him, though you had no idea what. And when you glanced back at him, you realized that his stiff demeanor had slightly softened. Was it because you were simply cooking for a staff member? Was that so odd?

Brushing off the hair that fell over your face, you jerkily turned back to the pancakes before they burned. It was silent for a while yet you couldn’t help but shake off the feeling of Hyunjae staring at you as if trying to decipher what you were doing. 

(Hyunjae watched and watched, yet continued to become more and more perplexed. You were spending your energy cooking for a staff member rather than ridiculing them for every mistake they made? His eyes followed you around the room, completely shamelessly as you moved back and forth, making what looked like fluffy pancakes.

But slowly, his gaze moved from your movements to, well, your features. Something about how you looked was almost mesmerizing. Gone were the prim and proper, perfectly hair-sprayed styles. Instead, your hair was messy, falling over your eyes constantly which he couldn’t help but hum with amusement. 

You were also void of any heavier makeup, allowing him to see your features more clearly. Your eyes were focused yet shone without any glitter and your lips… pursed but… 

He awkwardly cleared his throat. What was he thinking? He wasn’t supposed to look at you in that way.

Luckily, you hadn’t noticed his staring.)

He was staring. He was definitely staring. 

Why? You weren’t too sure. Maybe he was plotting a plan that would lead to your demise. Typical of him. But, you were too focused on cooking that you decided to pay it no mind, hurriedly brushing your hair out of your face once again. 

A few minutes later, you glanced up, solely for the reason of shooting him a glare. A bit immature, but that was how you two usually regarded each other anyway. But, to your surprise, he was nowhere to be seen. And you expected to feel a sense of relief, but for some reason, something shot through your heart.

You were alone—without him to catch you. You gulped nervously and hesitantly turned back to your pancakes. Just as you finished the second-to-last batch, you felt a warm presence behind you. Before you could turn around, a hand brushed against the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. And for some reason, you could immediately tell it was Hyunjae.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, you felt another hand grasp your hair, pulling it up and away from your face. He leaned closer from behind, peering at the side of your face to make sure he didn’t miss any strands. Suddenly, the room felt ridiculously hotter than before. You stayed utterly still and completely unsure of what to do. 

He was tying your hair for you. 

Once you felt your hair being fastened, you tried to whip around but you felt a gentle grip on your shoulders that made you face the counter once again. “Turn back around,” he muttered with a chiding tone. Bewildered, you stared at the wall, your heart pounding. Your hands gripped the side of the counter as you shut your eyes and cringed.

And if you thought he was done, he certainly wasn’t. His hands had left your hair and wandered down to your waist. Though he didn’t completely grasp it, that brief brush with his gentle hand sent you spiraling. You felt your apron tightening as he tied it again. It must have come loose earlier. Still, that didn’t answer your question as to why he was doing this all in the first place.

(Hyunjae did not enjoy this. He certainly wasn’t biting back a smirk as he noticed your reddening ears and your hands holding onto the counter for dear life. 

And just for a bit more fun, as he tightened the knot of the apron, he yanked you backward, sending you stumbling and falling back against his chest where he kept you steady, his hand ghosting just over your hip. He could tell you were trying to look angry as you looked up at him with a frown that looked more nervous and confused than intimidating. 

Slowly, he lost his battle with holding back a smile. But just before you could catch him, he leaned toward your ear and whispered, “You wouldn’t want to ruin your clothes would you?”

You gulped and he could see how flushed your cheeks were. 

“Why would you care?” You replied.

Hyunjae blinked and he quickly leaned away from you. He steadied you but created that distance that the two of you were most familiar with. Why did he care?)

Your mind was befuddled. The two of you were supposed to be arguing, throwing insults, and doing everything that had to do with hatred. But what was that? That was nothing like what you two were supposed to do. That was…

You shook your head out of your trance. He was probably just messing with you, trying to find your weakness to use it against you in the future. 

“Don’t startle me like that again,” you said shakily, flexing your hand nervously. You turned back to your unfinished batter and picked up the whisk, beginning to stir its contents. You would have been done with this already if it weren’t for his… assistance.

“Can I assist you once more?” He asked, this time appearing at your side. Your gaze hardened as you turned to him. Your hand came up to mindlessly swipe the hair off your face, only to find nothing because the very man right next to you had already tied it up. You scoffed and tilted your chin up, yet he only gazed back without emotion–except for that small bit of amusement behind the twinkle of his eyes.

“Fine, if you would be so kind.”

Hyunjae reached over, taking–prying, because you were that stubborn–the whisk from your hand and moved the bowl over. He began to mix and to your large dislike, he was much more efficient when doing so. You set your hands on the counter and watched. You tried to keep your eyes solely on his obnoxiously handsome face or on the batter being mixed in the bowl, but instead, your gaze wandered to his… arms.

Bodyguards always wore simple black and white suits–easy to move around, yet form-fitting enough to look formal. And that was what bothered you so much. Why, under his suit, could you see the muscles of his arm flex so clearly as he used the mixed? And why, with his suit on, did you start imagining it off–leaving him only in a white dress shirt and a loose tie? Your mouth went dry.

Your thoughts were rudely interrupted by his breathy laugh. You looked up, only to be met with a small smirk, barely visible, but enough to leave you embarrassed anyway.

“Eyes on the bowl, not my arm.” He nodded towards the bowl, already fully mixed for a while now, which you didn’t notice.

You suppressed a groan, elbowing him so that you could finish cooking. “Shut up, Hyunjae. You’re distracting me.”

“In what way?”

“You’re face is unbearable.”

“Hm, could have sworn it was my arms.”

–

After dropping off the pancakes to various staff member rooms that quickly filled with grateful smiles, you led Hyunjae out to the garden. He trailed behind you as you wandered the various, intricately carved trails, searching for the prettiest and brightest flowers. When you found the perfect patch, you immediately knelt down, slightly adjusting your hair. Carefully, you picked the flowers, bunching them into a basket.

Just like before,  it was silent. Well, up until Hyunjae decided to start a conversation again, as weird as it was. You would never get used to it.

“Your Highness.” His voice was softer.

You squinted up at him. “What?”

He gestured to the flowers being held in your hand. “Your hands will get dirty.”

“I know,” you sighed. You never particularly enjoyed the feeling. “But I noticed that some of the vases were empty. I’m going to refill them again.”

When there was no response, you looked up, only to see Hyunjae staring at you in surprise. His lips parted and his head was tilted ever so slightly. You noticed he did that often when he was confused. Almost like a… puppy. 

(Hyunjae’s chest felt tight. You had specific workers to fill up those vases and cook pancakes yet you… did those tasks on your own accord. Maybe Haknyeon wasn’t all too wrong. Maybe…)

You yelped. Immediately, Hyunjae was kneeling down, taking your arm, and pulling you up to stand. “Are you okay?”

You searched his eyes with bewilderment. “I-”

His touch was gentle and careful as he brought your hands up for examination. “You should have used gloves, Your Highness. I knew you would get hurt.” His thumb pressed comfortingly into your palm. 

“No!” You blurted out, causing him to jump. He looked up from one of your hands, completely missing the fact that he was so close that if he leaned any closer, he would be kissing the back of it. “I’m not hurt.”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’re not?”

“No,” you argued with a scowl. “Did you not hear the loud thunder a few moments ago? It startled me that’s all.”

“Thunder?” He furrowed his eyebrows. And then he looked at you like something dawned on him. “Thunder,” he breathed. “You need to go back inside.”

“Wha– why?” You exclaimed, already being dragged down the trail. You stumbled after his strides as you silently cursed his long legs. Soon enough though, your question was answered with the sudden pour of rain over your heads. It was so heavy that it began to seep through your clothes, sending a shudder through your whole body. And that meant that Hyunjae, who was holding onto your hand, would feel it tremble.

He stopped abruptly and turned back around to face you. 

“What are you doing?” You asked hurriedly. “We still have a long way to…” Your voice trailed off once you realized what exactly he was doing. He was taking off the jacket of his suit, leaving him only in his white dress shirt and a messed-up tie. Huh. Didn’t you just imagine that back in the kitchen?

He stepped forward and he held the jacket up over your head, acting as an umbrella. “Ready, Your Highness?” Yet again, his face lacked any emotion.

“Yes,” you breathed. The two of you avoided running so as to not slip on the forming mud, but everything felt incredibly fast-paced anyway. Hyunjae, who continued to shield you from the rain, kept on stealing glances at you to make sure you were okay. Everytime you caught him, you would scrunch your nose and silently gesture for him to focus on getting back.

As you got closer, it was you who decided to steal a glance. You inhaled sharply when you realized that most of Hyunjae’s body was soaked by rain. His wet hair fell over his eyes and his shirt stuck to his skin. He was keeping you dry while he…

You hadn’t even noticed that you two were indoors already. Hyunjae let out an exasperated sigh, brushing a hand through his soaked hair.

“Did you not check the weather before you—“

You ignored his words, instead storming over and smacking him plainly on his shoulder. He stared at you, clearly unimpressed. He never seemed to flinch. 

You frowned, looking around for a towel, only for there to be none in sight. With a groan, you turned back to him. “You’ll catch a cold, you idiot.”

“I’ve had worse,” he replied.

“Like what?”

“Like when I had to work while having a fever.”

You gasped and your frown deepened. “That’s so mean, who made you do that? I must have a talk with them.”

“I don’t think you must. Not when the person is none other than your own cousin.”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. You were always aware that Hyunjae wasn’t always a bodyguard. But to learn how he was treated previously…

You huffed and shook your head. “Cousin or not, that won’t change anything. If he treated you unfairly, then he deserves to be ridiculed.”

Hyunjae looked at you yet again, in surprise, his eyes slightly widened. So there’s finally more emotion in his face. “There’s no need, Your Highness. You do know that you’re supposed to hate me, right?”

You swallowed thickly. It hit you then. The two of you… hadn’t insulted each other in a while. It was weird but not something you were against.

“I don’t…” You sighed. “You’ve helped me a lot recently, so I— I don’t know. I want to repay you.”

“Okay,” he whispered. You looked up, trying not to pay attention to how attractive your bodyguard looked when soaked with rain. He was a lot more muscular than you thought, considering his shirt was see-through. “But this is my job, Your Highness. There’s nothing to repay.”

You grumbled. “I get to decide that.”

And to your pleasant surprise, he laughed. It was a nice sound and an even nicer change of pace with his usual stoic personality. 

“But thank you.” He smiled softly. “I appreciate it, Your Highness.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. You looked down to examine your picked flowers. But then you slapped your hand over your face.

“Ah, my basket. I forgot it.”

“Would you like me to get it for you?”

You glanced out the window. The rain was still pouring. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“I wasn’t. You spent a lot of time picking those flowers. I can get them for you.”

Your cheeks flushed as you looked away. You never thought he would go to such lengths for… you. Then again, it was his job. But it felt different either way. It felt like your heart was racing.

“Shut up,” you muttered. “Go dry yourself off instead.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” He tilted his head with a teasing smile. 

And for some reason, that smile and that soft gaze left you breathless.

—

After Hyunjae was all dry—now only wearing just a dress shirt and tie this time (much to your quiet enjoyment)—he followed you to your last stop of the day. The library. It was large and filled with rows upon rows of books that almost everyone couldn’t understand. You weren’t any different. You simply enjoyed the peace and quiet of the atmosphere, where you could crochet to your heart’s content.

You sat on a chair and tried to focus, but your mind was distracted—distracted by your bodyguard who was standing by your side silently. When Haknyeon accompanied you, he would start conversations or try to read one of the books. To say this was uncomfortable was a huge understatement.

You set down the needles and patted the chair next to you.

“Do you want to sit down?” You looked up at him. He gazed at you before reluctantly sitting down, facing you slightly.

There definitely was progress in your relationship with him but it was still painfully awkward. Every time the two of you would make eye contact, it would quickly break. Fidgeting hands, darting eyes, shifting in your seat—it was just so graceless.

“I’m not that bad,” you whispered, facing him with a soft smile. “You can talk to me.”

Hyunjae leaned back in his chair, stretching slightly. “I guess you’re not. But hm, I’m not too sure.”

“Hey.” You glared. This time though, your glare was playful and you even struggled to hold back a smile. “Say anything. Start a conversation. I promise I won’t bite.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “I never thought you would bite. You practically trip over air every time I look at you.”

You stuttered and your cheeks quickly started to feel warm as you quickly stared down at your lap. “I– I don’t mean to…” When you looked back up, you saw Hyunjae staring at you with sparkles of amusement in his eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed with clearly no trace of an apology. “Fine, I’ll talk.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his thighs as he gestured to your crocheted piece of work. Which hopefully, he could tell it was a scarf. “Who’s this for?”

You stared at him, slightly confused. But then you realized, oh, he had witnessed you cooking and picking flowers for others. He must have assumed you were making this for someone as well. You shyly shook your head, gripping your work in progress tightly.

“Oh,” you laughed nervously, tearing your gaze away with embarrassment. “It’s just for me actually. This is my favorite hobby.” Your voice gradually became quieter and quieter. The only person who was well aware of your love of crocheting was Haknyeon. So to share it with Hyunjae is…

He hummed quietly and you could tell he was interested, rather than judging. He didn’t say anything after, instead choosing to watch you crochet. Usually, you were great at crocheting. Amazing actually! But something about his silent gaze on your hands left them shaking causing you to make a lot more mistakes than usual.

After your nth mistake, you sighed and placed the unfinished scarf in your lap with a frustrated groan. You needed to do something–anything–to steer his eyes away from your hands. It wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but it was… nerve-wracking. For some odd reason, you felt your heart beat faster than usual.

Abruptly, you turned to him. “Do you want to learn?”

He froze as he eyed your intricate work. Then he shook his head softly. “This isn’t my type of thing.”

“Then what do you like? Or are you just a boring guy?”

He rolled his eyes. “I like to workout.”

You scoffed. “That’s such a you thing to enjoy.” Except, you didn’t make that statement just because you knew he was a bodyguard and had to be strong enough anyway. Really, you said it because you could not, for your life, get the image of him, rain-soaked with a tight shirt that clung to his body out of your mind.

He was quiet for a moment before he tilted his chin downwards, looking you straight in the eyes. You gulped nervously. Why was he staring at you so intently? When you looked closely, you could see a small teasing smile appear on his lips.

“Then how else do I catch you when you fall?” He paused and his voice lowered. “Your Highness.”

Now, it felt like your heart was in your throat. You cleared it desperately as you quickly turned away, hoping you were fast enough to hide your reddening cheeks. 

–

“Can’t I do something?” You complained. You twirled around and wandered through the various set-up tables. There were staff members everywhere, intricately putting up centerpieces and making sure that every tablecloth had not a single wrinkle, every plate was without a singular smudge and every flower was placed perfectly.

The head organizer, who was busy checking things off her important-looking clipboard, glanced at you before shaking her head in disapproval.

“No, you can’t.”

“Why?” You gave your best pleading look but she wasn’t even looking at you.

“This is our job, Your Highness. We don’t want to bother you.” 

“But–” She was already long gone, chasing down a guy who accidentally put a napkin backward.

Biting your lip, you glanced around and your eyes quickly landed on Hyunjae who was nearby, helping move things around for the upcoming ball. It was drawing near and you still weren’t completely sure about walking in with Hyunjae on your arm.

You hurried over to him and he was quick to notice you approaching. 

“Can I help? Please?” 

He looked you over. You were dressed in your more expensive attire which would make it harder for you to move around and help. But you still wanted to try anyway. He sighed and shook his head, much to your demise.

“No, Your Highness. I can’t afford you getting hurt.” You pursed your lips. But, before you could come up with some sort of snarky response, he suddenly leaned in. “Besides, I don’t think you’re strong enough,” he whispered before pulling away with a mischievous smile.

You shut your eyes and leaned your head back, annoyed. “I definitely am.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked past you to pull out one of the nearby chairs. “Then sit here for a moment. We’ll find something to do after I’m done.”

You nodded and sat down. You tried to look around but quickly found that your head began to hurt the more you tried to comprehend the chaos that was called setting up for a ball. And so, you decided to turn your focus back to the only person you could mostly comprehend.

Hyunjae was busy lifting heavy boxes. His sleeves were rolled up and his hair was slightly messy. But despite his disheveled look, he certainly was a very attractive man, you came to realize. Your eyes widened, as you looked him over. You studied his prince-like features and his broad build. You hadn’t even noticed that your whole face began to feel warm. 

You coughed awkwardly and quickly turned your gaze away. You focused instead on the utensils on the table nearby. What were you thinking? Staring at Hyunjae like that? 

Adjusting the fork countless times quickly became boring. You bit your lip and winced. 

It wouldn’t hurt to take one last glance, right? 

Slowly, very slowly, you turned your head, only to find that Hyunjae was nowhere to be seen. 

But then you heard a shift next to you and you startled, turning and looking down. And of course, there he was, kneeling before you. He was out of breath but god, he looked so handsome. His eyes were gentle and his lips lifted slightly as he looked up to you.

“Enjoying the view, Your Highness?”

Your lungs seized and you felt yourself go dizzy. As if you were stung by his words, you abruptly stood up and quickly turned away. You were sure you weren’t being that obvious... 

You heard him laugh fondly from behind as he stepped in front of you. No matter how many times you tried to avoid his eyes, he would bend down and force you to look anyway.

“You weren’t supposed to notice,” you muttered quietly.

“I guess.” He nodded. “But I like your eyes on me.”

If you weren’t at your breaking point then, you were now. You cringed with an incoherent sound and tried to walk away but you felt a gentle hand take yours. You whipped around, only to meet his expectant look.

“You said you wanted to find something to do, right?”

You sighed and reluctantly let him lead you through the ballroom. Hyunjae easily found a table that still needed to be set up while you… you were more focused on that whole situation from before. Every time you thought about it, you had to look away with reddening cheeks.

You glanced over to the empty spot in the middle of the ballroom which was designated for dancing. “Do you know what kind of dance there will be?”

Hyunjae looked at you as if you were joking. “The slow dance, is it not?”

“Still, that’s disappointing. I want something more fun.”

“Funny that you think there’s anything remotely fun at these types of royal events.” He abruptly paused and looked at you regretfully. He was staring at you like a deer in headlights over the fact that he just said that to you, a royal member. “Uh, I didn’t mean—“

You burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, I get what you mean.” You grinned mischievously. “We should leave early if that’s what you would like. I know a spot.” You led him out of the ballroom and began to walk through the halls. 

“That’s up to you.” He looked at you in amusement, easily catching up with your fast strides. “Not me.”

You pretended to think like you didn’t already have your decision in mind. “Then… I say we escape as soon as we can.” You gave him a playful wink.

To your surprise, Hyunjae smiled. It was a wide one this time, unlike the subtle or teasing ones from before. You tilted your head, slightly endeared. “Has anyone told you that you have a nice smile? You should do it more.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

You grimaced. “This is weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“You being so… obedient,” you whined. “I was just getting used to your insults.”

He huffed, slightly flustered. “I… I guess it’s because I’ve been wrong about you, that’s all.”

You widened your eyes and looked at him. “Really? How so?”

His gaze lowered. He looked almost embarrassed. “It was nothing too serious. I just… had past experiences when I wasn’t a bodyguard yet. I assumed you would be the same.” 

Your wide eyes immediately softened. You already knew who he was talking about and you never once agreed with them.

Your voice was quiet. “Is that why you hated me all this time?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “And I sincerely apologize.”

You gave him a soft smile and lightly bumped into his shoulder, making him look up from the floor. He still wore an ashamed face but you could see that his stern eyes had melted. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“What do you mean?” You snorted. “I argued with you too. I should have tried to understand you first.”

He leaned closer to you as the exit came into view. “And I should have told you earlier. We weren’t the most mature, huh?”

You laughed loudly and you didn’t know what came over you but you suddenly grabbed onto his arm as you two walked through the door and out to the private garden. This one was different than the one you were in previously. It was closed off by glass walls, rather than out in the open. But most of all, it was romantic and even more beautiful with dim lighting and colorful flowers lining a trail.

Holding onto his firm arm, you felt a sudden sense of peace. You felt like you were truly safe and protected.

Who knew that the man that you would refuse to look at would become your bodyguard who made you smile more times than you expected?

He stared quietly at your arms that were looped around his and he cleared his throat nervously. You could see that he had even straightened up and became more alert.

You smirked at him teasingly. “Why, do you feel more important now?”

He rolled his eyes fondly but shook his head. “It’s not me. It’s you. I feel like you’re the most important person at the moment.”

You choked on air and promptly turned to face forward, afraid that Hyunjae would notice your embarrassment. The two of you silently walked through the garden, admiring the various flowers. 

“And just so you’re aware,” you started. “I hope that you feel comfortable with me. I promise that I won’t treat you like how they did. I hope you can trust me…” Your voice trailed off once you noticed Hyunjae staring down at you with a stupidly handsome smile. You furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing.” Despite his response, he wouldn’t stop looking at you. Something about how he always stared at you and never failed to look away made you feel your own pulse in your ears. 

The two of you arrived at the center of the garden. Yet again, it was beautiful. But what you found most beautiful was the light feeling in your chest as you leaned against Hyunjae.

“Hyunjae.”

“Hm?” His gaze was warm even in the cooler atmosphere.

You eyed the empty space around you. There was no one else around. Just you and him, standing in the center of a garden that sparkled with dew. “Do you know how to dance?”

He gave you a skeptical look. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re my escort to the ball, of course!” You giggled. “You have to slow dance with me at some point.”

There was a slight blush that appeared on his cheeks. “That never… crossed my mind,” he said.

You gave him a teasing look. “So you don’t know?” When he didn’t give you a response, you couldn’t help but laugh, hopelessly endeared. He was always the tough one, but it seemed that when it came to the small romantic things, he was clueless. The more you noticed just how flustered he had become, the harder you laughed. You doubled over before almost falling straight into his chest. 

Two hands grasped your waist, holding you steady. You were still laughing but it had quieted down. Hyunjae couldn’t even look you in the eye yet he continued to hold you from falling.

“Don’t be so… clumsy, Your Highness,” he muttered, tripping over his words slightly at how close you were to him. “Not knowing how to dance shouldn’t be so funny to you,” he later grumbled quietly to himself.

You smiled and straightened up. You moved one of your hands to his shoulder as the other held onto one of his, pulling it away from your waist. “I don’t think it’s funny. I think it’s cute.”

Hyunjae blinked before clearing his throat and turning away. But then, without a warning, you began to lead him through the basic slow dance. He slowly looked back at you in surprise.

“We can simply sway side to side,” you explained gently. Then, you eyed where his hand was still holding onto his waist. “And don’t let go.”

Hyunjae was silent before he adjusted his hand to yours, intertwining your fingers. Then, he whispered quietly, “I was never planning to.”

You laughed bashfully. There was no music–just the shuffle of your clothes and the distant ruffle of nearby flowers and bushes. But you could hear it in your ears, feel it in your fingertips, see it through your eyes, the fondness and admiration that you both began to share.

Hyunjae was still a bit awkward with dancing. Sometimes, he would stumble or tighten his hold on your waist. Every so often, he would whisper a small apology.

You hummed fondly and shifted just a bit closer. He inhaled quietly and stared down at you with fluttering eyes. But despite his distractions, he slowly became more and more confident in slow dancing with you, even pulling you closer so that you could rest your cheek on his chest. 

Except there was something else you could hear. The loud beating of his heart. It was fast and it was almost pounding. You smiled softly.

“You’re quite handsome when you’re like this, Hyunjae.” You pulled away to look up at him. He bit back a smile and shook his head. 

“And if I may tell the truth…” His voice lowered as if he truly only wanted you to hear what he was about to say. “You look truly stunning right now, Your Highness.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. He smiled smugly. And then, like a perfect harmony, the two of you started laughing at the same time. The sparkles in his eyes and his bright smile perfectly mirrored. And you were sure that the pounding of his heart did as well.

Suddenly though, you were interrupted by your own yawn. His gaze looked you over in slight concern. “Would you like to stop now?” He looked up and out to the evening sky, littered with faint stars.

“Mhm,” you sighed, glancing down. “These shoes are not comfortable for dancing. They hurt.” Slowly, as if you didn’t want to let go–you truly didn’t–you stepped away from him. Your waist still felt warm with his touch and your hand tingly from his palm.

Then, he leaned down to look you in the eye. “Would you like me to carry you?”

Almost instantly, your mind flashed to an image in your mind. You quickly shook it away with a growing blush on your cheeks.

“No! I’m fine,” you blurted out, making your way back to the door. You could already feel his teasing smile and so, despite your uncomfortable shoes, you began to run down the hallway. But yet again, he was your bodyguard. He would always be following you.

“The offer’s still on the table,” he called out. 

“No!”

–

You shifted nervously as you stood in front of your bedroom door. You played nervously with your hair as you glanced down at your formal wear. You never expected to be so anxious for a ball until you were dressed up in something so sparkly and stunning that you began to doubt if you even worth wearing such a thing. 

With a shaky sigh, your hand hovered over the doorknob. Hyunjae would be standing outside and you didn’t know what to think. All that really was on your mind were the possibilities. Would he smile at the sight of you? Would he look you over? Would he… say something?

But when you opened to the door, you faced an empty hallway. It was bustling downstairs with everyone preparing the food and drinks to be served. But upstairs, it was quiet. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and stepped out. You glanced on either side, only for Hyunjae to be nowhere in sight.

But then, there was one other room that had its light on. The library. You slowly approached it and opened the door. There Hyunjae was–or specifically his back as he seemed to be working on something. As soon as he heard your footsteps, he hurriedly put it away and stood up quickly.

“There are you are,” you breathed in relief. “I was looking for you.” Your gaze travelled across his whole body. He looked handsome in his suit and ever so charming with his hair done up precisely–except for that one piece that stuck out, giving him a more youthful and playful look. You felt like you could just swoon at the moment.

You hadn’t even noticed his absolutely smitten look as his eyes wandered over you as well.

“Well don’t you look beautiful,” he muttered quietly, staring at you with a soft gaze.

Immediately, you were sputtering out sounds that didn’t form a single word. You tried to bring your hands up to cover your face but he took them and set them down gently. You frowned at his knowing smile.

“Why? Are you shy?”

You scoffed, trying to play it cool. It obviously wasn’t working considering how he chuckled quietly. “I miss when you hated me.”

He leaned in, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “I don’t. Because then, I’d miss seeing your smile.”

“Sh-shut up, you stupid flirt,” you whined, pulling away and making a beeline to the door. 

As the two of you walked toward the ballroom, you turned to ask Hyunjae something, only to find that he was deep in thought about something. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips pulled into a small frown.

“Is there something bothering you?”

He startled slightly and glanced at you before immediately denying, “Nothing to concern you, Your Highness.”

“Please tell me.” You smiled. “I might be able to help.”

He eyed you skeptically before letting out a defeated sigh. “It’s foolish. I think I have a crush on someone. And… I don’t know what to do about it.”

You nodded. “So it’s that type of situation… then why don’t you confess?” When he stared at you like you were crazy, you laughed, completely unfazed. “Just get it out there.”

“Easier said than done.” And you didn’t know why but the way he looked at you as he said those words was so… different. His gaze was full of longing, you realized. But why at you? “I don’t think I can do that.”

“Hmm…” You bit your lip as you pondered. “Then until you’re ready to tell them, continue to take care and protect them in the meantime.”

He gave you a soft smile and you gasped quietly when you felt your hand being placed on his arm. He held you close to his side as you two faced the entrance to the ball. You could already hear the bustle of guests and the clink of wine glasses inside. Hyunjae turned to look at you with a reassuring smile. You would think that you didn’t need it considering you were so used to these events. But really, it was your hand on his arm that made you feel nervous.

“Ready?” He interrupted your thoughts.

The hushed whispers and interested murmurs were deafening to your ears as the doors opened. You blinked profusely as the lights came shining upon the two of you. Once your eyes adjusted, your heart raced at the faces of awe at the sight of you and Hyunjae, walking into the ballroom with your hand on his arm.

“Is that a prince?” You could hear one mutter in admiration.

“They look like the perfect couple…”

You grinned and looked up to Hyunjae. He gave you a slightly forced smile. You could tell he was nervous yet he still remained protective over you, holding you close to his side.

The two of you wandered out of the spotlight and began to join the other guests. You tried your hardest to ignore the looks of others. They were always gossiping and always had something to say. Instead, you chose to focus on Hyunjae.

Hyunjae.

You could sigh dreamily like one of those characters in the romance books you used to read. How could a bodyguard be so… prince-like? 

“Your Highness?”

You shook your head out of your trance. “Hyunjae?”

“How are you doing on this beautiful night?” He smiled, bowing down politely. You burst out laughing. The two of you had been together for the past twenty minutes yet now, he decided to act like this. He tilted his head teasingly. “I saw you were a bit distracted.”

“Hm?” You grinned knowingly. “Distracted? By what?”

“Me,” he whispered into your ear. 

“Really?” You stepped closer, reaching your hands to fix his collar. It was perfectly ironed already but you relished in the way his ears tinted red when your fingertips grazed his neck. Then you looked up and straight into his eyes. You could hear his breath hitch. “Is it that obvious?” You whispered, with a teasing smile. 

You didn’t care if there were hundreds of guests surrounding you, possibly staring at the two of you flirting. All that you could see was Hyunjae and only him. 

“It is,” he muttered, quickly regaining his composure. “But I’m no better. You distract me all the same.” 

His hands were gentle as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. His eyes wandered over your features and then down to your whole body. He didn’t say anything but through his soft gaze, you could read what his mind was thinking like a book.

Pretty.

Then he stepped away. For a moment you felt disappointed until you saw him holding a hand out for you to take.

“May I have this dance?” He bowed slightly, looking up at you with expectant eyes. It didn’t help that the one hair strand still adorably stuck out like a puppy’s hair would.

“Of course,” you giggled, taking his hand. He smiled fondly as he led you to the dance area. Seamlessly, the two of you blended in with the other couples, slow dancing with lovesick smiles.

Hyunjae held you tenderly by the waist and his hand fit with yours perfectly. Just a look at his handsome face was enough to leave you breathless. He seemed like he was incredibly skilled in holding eye contact with his soft gaze that never left yours. You on the other hand… were not faring very well.

You bit your lip, struggling to look him in the eye. Why was he making you so nervous? Why did his hand on your waist make you feel jittery? And why…

“Look at me,” he whispered, grabbing your attention.

You snapped your head up. “It’s hard to.” 

He chuckled. “Isn’t slow dancing about trusting your partner? Do you not trust me?”

“I do.”

“Then look at me,” he repeated with a teasing voice. “I like when you do.”

You had to resist the urge to shut your eyes in embarrassment. You swallowed nervously. When you said you trusted him, you meant it. You allowed him to lead you throughout the ballroom—allowed him to guide you through the several people you could’ve bumped into. But instead, he kept you safe. He protected you.

“Your Highness.”

“Hm?”

He gave you a slightly embarrassed look as he glanced around. You couldn’t help but think it was cute how fast his flirty demeanor could fall. “If I may be honest, I do feel a bit out of place here.”

Your heart sank. It was understandable how he was still hesitant, especially with what he had confided in you recently. “Then please, focus on me just like you want me on you.”

His hand tightened on yours. “I already am.” He gave you an earnest smile. You smiled back. 

The two of you were lost in each other’s eyes, naturally moving to the calming yet romantic music that surrounded you. Your heart beat faster than the pace of the violin but you didn’t care, knowing that Hyunjae wasn’t any different. You knew because of when you laid your head on his chest that time in the garden.

But, like a record scratch, you heard your name from behind you, spoken by a snarky voice.

“What’s their name, Y/n?” A man spoke to another. You could tell by his tone that he would have nothing good to say. “They aren’t even all that special. And they were the only reason why I came to this ball.”

Hyunjae’s face hardened as he glanced behind you, already pinpointing the two men talking about you. You stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Have you seen the way they act?” The other griped. “So… improper and nothing like a royalty.”

You gulped and looked to Hyunjae. His jaw was clenched and his hand on your waist had tightened. Though, it was never enough to hurt.

Suddenly, the music was too loud. Your feet hurt and the chatter of others was painfully blaring. But most of all, it was the two men’s voices that scratched your eardrums the most. You two were still dancing but it had slowed down.

“I’d still take them out on a date,” The other laughed mockingly. “But only to inherit their fortune.” And god, how their cackles stung your very soul.

You gasped and furrowed your eyebrows. Hyunjae kept you from ever facing them, always switching the direction so your back was turned. But he was mad, you could tell–furious to be exact. Then, he looked down at you and his gaze softened at your hurt expression. 

And like something snapped in him, he let go of your waist and pulled you around so that you were right behind him. “Stay here with me,” he whispered. He shielded you protectively as he walked over to the two men, standing near the drink bar, swirling their glasses obnoxiously with their even more irritating smiles.

“Hyunjae–”

“We can hear your loud voices from here,” Hyunjae spoke condescendingly. “I hope that you’re aware of that.” The two men jumped and stared at him. You couldn’t help but marvel over how Hyunjae so easily towered over them. One of them was already cowering, backing away while the other huffed stubbornly.

“And who might you be?” The man gave him a twisted smile.

You peeked out from Hyunjae’s side and answered for him, “My bodyguard.”

And that seemed to be what did it for the man. His eyes widened and his voice stuttered. “Y-your Highness! What a pleasant surprise!” He laughed nervously, glancing around with fear.

Hyunjae tilted his head and he stepped forward, further towering over him. His broad shoulders loomed like a shadow that was awfully intimidating yet… attra–

“Say anything about them again and I will personally do anything to ruin your life,” he muttered with a low voice. Your heart skipped a beat as you tightened your hand on his.

“What can you do?” The man lifted his head high which frankly, didn’t do much. You could tell by how his hands shook that he was terrified. “I’m a prince. And you’re just a lowly bodyguard.”

You winced and tried to pull Hyunjae away. You didn’t want him to get hurt again, not after you promised him that he would be treated right. But instead, Hyunjae stayed where he was as his jaw clenched.

“A bodyguard whose job is to protect them. Something that you clearly cannot do,” Hyunjae replied, looking over the prince with an unimpressed look. “So, I don’t see the problem here.” That was when he turned around and led you away. Or, at least tried to, until the man called out again with a loud voice.

“You’re protecting someone who barely acts like a proper royal member,” he growled. “Y/n doesn’t deserve–”

You felt your hand being let go, causing you to gasp and whip around. Soon enough, you were met with the sight of Hyunjae, his hands grasped around his collar, so tight that his knuckles were white. The man now was clearly full of fear, his eyes pleading as he tried to scramble away. But Hyunjae didn’t let go, instead tightening his hold with a threatening look. It was subtle–his eyes darkened and jaw tight. 

Everyone was looking now, murmurs and shocked gasps filling the room. You stumbled forward but were stopped by one of the staff members holding you back to keep you safe. You watched as other guards came rushing forward to break everything up. The prince’s collar was crumpled and he could barely speak out of sheer terror. Hyunjae on the other hand, was standing there with clenched fists. Then, immediately he looked to you to make sure you were okay.

You quickly escaped the staff member’s hold and approached him. Gently, you took his wrist because you could tell he still wanted to punch the prince square in the face. Then you pulled him close so that you could whisper into his ear.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“But–” 

You smiled, slightly amused. “It’s okay.”

He froze and his tense muscles softened as soon as his eyes took in your smile. He quietly nodded.

“Come on,” you laughed fondly, pulling him along and out of the ballroom. The two of you ran down the same path to the garden with your hand wrapped around his wrist the whole time. 

You led him to sit on a 1bench, a beautiful spot surrounded by gorgeous flowers lit by the nearby lamps. The night sky was scattered with twinkling stars and it was a calming quiet. Immediately, you took his hand and opened it.

“Look,” you whispered with a worried expression. You frowned, taking in the gash on the palm of his hand where the sharp button of the prince’s outfit had cut him. “You got hurt. You shouldn’t have done that for me.”

You reached under the bench and pulled out a first-aid kit, typically for the gardeners who got cut from rose thorns and such. You quickly cleaned the wound and began to wrap the cut with a rolled bandage.

All the while, Hyunjae was staring at you with a straight mouth but with a soft, loving gaze. Then, he huffed and gave you an adorably angry frown as he rolled his eyes. You could tell he was still being protective.

“I couldn’t ignore it. He hurt you.”

You laughed warmly, as you secured the bandage around his hand, patting it lightly. You looked up, only to inhale sharply at the way he was staring at you so intently–so… passionately.

“I’ve…” You gulped, trying to find your voice again. “I’ve heard far worse. But thank you, Hyunjae.”

He smiled. If he was handsome in the ballroom, he was even more handsome now. The dim light perfectly emphasized his features and his hair no longer was in that perfect updo. It was messy yet it fit him perfectly. 

“But seriously!” You whined, slightly startling him. “Why did you protect me like that?”

He narrowed his eyes. “It’s my job. I’m a bodyguard.”

“Hm,” you thought for a moment, looking up to the stars that so beautifully mirrored the sparkles in Hyunjae’s eyes that only seemed to appear when he was looking at you. “I thought that meant physically. Not standing up for me. You know I can handle myself right?”

Hyunjae looked down at his lap.

“Just… let me take care and protect you.”

You stared at him blankly. Your lack of response caused him to look up at you nervously and regretfully as if he was scared you would realize something. And then it hit you. What you said earlier…

“Then until you’re ready to tell them, continue to take care and protect them in the meantime.”

You straightened and you could feel your heart seize. “The person you were talking about. It’s me, right?”

He choked. “I–”

Immediately, you were giving him a teasing look as you scooted over to lean into his side. “There’s no use in hiding it now,” you sang.

He stared at you with adorably wide eyes before he let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, yes. I may have a crush on you.”

You slapped your hand over your mouth exaggeratedly as if you hadn’t already figured it out before. “For how long?” You cut yourself off with a gasp. “Don’t tell me… you were mean to me to actually hide your feelings?”

“No, no, I did actually hate you.”

“Oh.”

“I-I’m sorry,” he blushed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

You giggled. Oh, how you loved teasing him. “It’s okay. I get it.”

“But I saw how kind you were and… I realized you were different.” He gave you a fond look. “And Your Highness, you are so beautiful. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever gotten to know.”

Your cheeks were warm, even under the cool night air. You leaned into his side, staring up at him with a stupidly giddy smile. 

“And my dear Hyunjae,” you spoke, your voice teasing yet sincere either way. “You have won over my heart.”

“Really?” You could see that he was truly relieved, even past his smug smile.

“Mhm,” You hummed. “Really.” And then you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. He stared at you with wide eyes before practically melting and smiling like he had truly fallen for you. And it seemed, based on what he said, he did.

Then, he straightened and reached into his pocket. “I have something for you.” He pulled out a crocheted flower. It was a rose. A few of the stitches were messed up but it was beautiful anyway. 

Your eyebrows raised. “For me? You… made this?”

He cleared his throat, trying to look nonchalant and tough. “I tried.”

Instantly, you were smiling so wide your face hurt. You twirled the rose around, admiring the effort he made. “This is so cute!” Your eyes softened. “Thank you.”

He stared at you, still slightly dazed by your kiss on the cheek. “You’re welcome.”

You paused and then gave him a sly look–one that sent him looking away nervously. “You know I could just kiss you right now.”

He watched quietly as you set the rose gently down on the bench and turned to him. You noticed how his eyes struggled to stay on the upper side of your face. Rather, they kept wandering down to your lips.

“On the cheek?” His voice was so quiet that you had to lean in close to hear him which in turn, made him blush furiously.

You shook your head, peering up at him with doe-like eyes that made him swallow thickly. “No. On the lips.”

He inhaled sharply and tried to act normal but he was nothing like it. Rather, it seemed like he was losing it, his eyes darting across your features with a look of want and infatuation. “I… I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“Really?” You grinned.

He nodded and as if he couldn’t get any more endearing, he shut his eyes and leaned forward. His lips slightly pouted as he waited expectantly for you to press yours on his. But instead, you giggled, your breath fanning over his lips, causing him to blink.

He immediately was filled with embarrassment as he cleared his throat, almost choked, and tried to hide his face somehow.

“Why didn’t you…”

“Because first, you have to do something for me.” You scrunched your nose, poking his cheek.

It seemed that he had momentarily forgotten that he was a bodyguard who served under you. He immediately straightened and gave you a stern look that seemed to be on the verge of melting if you ever so smiled. “What is it, Your Highness?”

You suppressed a laugh. Then, you placed a finger under his chin, lifting it up.

“You need to call me by my real name first. Not Your Highness. My name.”

“That’s a bit unprofessional,” he replied hesitantly.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that what we have is at all professional?”

He chuckled and quickly, the tables turned as he set your hand down and instead wrapped a hand around your waist. He pulled you close, earning him a surprised gasp.

“Truly professional, Y/n,” he whispered, glancing down to where you were almost sitting in his lap.

You were so focused on his gentle hold on you that you almost missed the name that had left his lips. You brightened and stared up at him with wide eyes. “Hyunjae,” you breathed. “Say it again.”

“Y/n.” He leaned closer, cupping a hand around the side of your face. 

“Again,” you whispered, your heart pounding.

“Y/n.”

You were silent and he stared at you as if waiting for a cue. And finally, you whispered once again, his name.

“Hyunjae.”

And just like that, you felt two hands cup your face this time and a pair of lips being pressed to yours. The sheer passion he put into that first kiss sent you reeling and your balance completely off if it wasn’t for the hand around your back that steadied you. His other hand wrapped around your legs, pulling them over his lap so that he could hold and kiss you like it was his sole duty.

You didn’t know what to do with your hands for a while until you ultimately wrapped them around his neck and tangled them into his hair. You could feel him breathily laugh against your lips and if you peeked an eye open, you would see him smiling dearly.

So he wasn’t just a good bodyguard but a good–no–great kisser too?

And to make you even more flustered, he pressed another kiss to your forehead before he pulled away.

Dumbly, all you could say was another weak, “Hyunjae.”

“Y/n?” He offered you a knowing smile as he noticed the way your breath hitched at your name being spoken from his lips. You could tell he was proud of his effect on you. 

“Hyunjae, I hate you.” You feebly tried to slap him but he caught your hand with ease, instead intertwining your fingers with his.

“I hate you too, gorgeous.” Then, he led you up to stand with him. Yet another thing you hated: how he made your legs horribly weak. Your ears tuned into the music that leaked from the ballroom and it seemed that Hyunjae could hear it too. Then, he began to slow dance with you, much to your surprise. “I believe our little dance was interrupted before.”

“Yeah, because you did something stupid.”

He tried to protest but when you gave him a warning look, he sighed and nodded. “Fine, I’m sorry for worrying you.”

You humphed. “That’s what I thought.” Before you could add anything else, he quickly leaned in to press another kiss on your lips.

“For safe measure.”

“Safe measure for what?”

“To make sure that I was right that you taste sweet.”

You groaned and hid your face in his chest. But of course, he played along and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

You snorted, pulling away to look up at him. “Hey, you already know my schedule. And you’re following me around anyway.”

“Exactly.” He gave you a soft smile. “So let’s go on a proper date.”

Your eyes sparkled before you closed them and leaned your cheek back on his chest. His heart thumped in rhythm with yours. It thumped in perfect harmony with the rustle of the nearby flowers. It thumped with something akin to warmth.

[spookyunwon]

fake valentine

sunwoo x reader

sunric valentine's day special pt 1. you ask sunwoo, who's your roommate and the perfect guy, to pretend to be your boyfriend for a valentine's day couples contest. little did you know, he has very large feelings for you...

genre: tooth-rotting cotton candy type fluff, roommates to lovers, fake relationship/taking pictures pretending to be a couple, shy and whipped sunwoo, wearing his hoodie!!! holding hands, sweet kisses, confessions, reader is bold and competitive notes: is it too early for valentines day? yes and i don't care 😚 word count: 6.4k

You never cared for Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t because you were jealous or sulky about having no one to spend it with or being lonely without anyone to kiss. You’ve heard about those types of complaints plenty of times from your friends. You simply found it irrelevant and not a day to spend so much time on when you could be doing anything else.

But that was then and this is now.

Now you cared. You were lying in bed, staring at your phone screen in complete awe.

Annual Valentine’s Day Couples Contest!

Win a mystery prize for posting pictures with the most likes!

You quickly sat up, your eyes brightening. One would think that you were focused on the “couples” part of the title. But no, you were instead eyeing the words, “contest” and “prize.” Anyone who knew you was aware that you adored competition. No matter how stupid the competition was, the thrill of competing and possibly winning a prize for your hard work was, what you believed, the most beautiful thing of life. Your friends would stare at you weirdly.

You didn’t even care if you didn’t know what the mystery prize actually was. It must be money or food. Either way, you looked up with a determined look. You were going to win this, even if you didn’t exactly have anyone to be a couple with.

Just as you were mulling over the possible choices, the door unlocked to your dorm. That was when you gasped in realization. He was right in front of you. He would be perfect.

“Be careful, Y/n.” Sunwoo walked in, shivering with flurries of snow decorating his fluffy hair. “It’s cold and slippery outside. I almost made a whole fool of mys–”

“Would you be my boyfriend?”

And almost like the wood floor was suddenly slick with ice, he slipped and almost fell flat on his face if it weren’t for the desk that he so desperately held on to. After regaining his balance, he stood up, brushed himself off, and then stared at you as if to silently ask, Are you absolutely crazy?

“Don’t give me that look,” you grumbled. 

“W-we haven’t even gone on a proper date. I planned it out alre–” He choked once he realized that you were looking at him in amusement.

“You…” You had to suppress a laugh. “You already planned out a date for me? But we’re only roommates.”

His cheeks were already tinted red from the bitter cold outside. But for some reason, they reddened even more if that was possible. “I was kidding…” He looked away as he took off his coat and set down his bag. He shivered slightly before sitting next to you, still unable to look you in the eye.

You giggled and pulled out your phone, showing him the contest. “I should have specified for you to be my fake boyfriend.”

He stared at it blankly before turning to you with disbelief. “You want to fake being a couple just so you can win a prize that you don’t even know what it is?”

You nodded as if that was the most normal thing to say ever. “Yes. Is that so bad?”

He narrowed his eyes. “We’re just roommates. This is cheating.”

You scoffed. “Fine then.”

“That’s it?” He widened his eyes, giving you one of those round, puppy-like gazes that always made it hard for you to tease him. “No objections?”

You shrugged with an exaggerated frown. “No,” you sighed, much louder than needed. To add to the effect, you even scooted away from him and crossed your arms over your chest. In the corner of your eye, you could see him reach out to you with worry. And to make things just that much worse, you muttered a quiet, “I guess I’ll find someone else then.”

“No!” He blurted out, suddenly reaching forward and grabbing your hand. When you turned to him while biting back a smile, you realized that he was pouting. 

“Oh? So you change your mind.”

“Don’t…” He bit his lip nervously. “Don’t go with anyone else.”

Finally, your grin broke through. Your excitement washed over you like a wave to the seashore as you quickly scooted back towards him. He stared at you in surprise. But to his further shock, you leaned close, right up against him so that your lips were only centimeters away from his.

He looked like he was about to explode.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, his expression adorably flustered.

You smiled lazily. “Just getting into character.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and tried to avoid your eyes but failed miserably. His voice was shaky as he asked, “By leaning closer?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Do you want me to do more?”

You could tell that Sunwoo’s mind flashed to… other scenarios when you said that. But putting those possible images aside, you cupped his face with your hands. Then, you squeezed them and started rambling.

“My sweet, sweet boyfriend. Aren’t you cold? Do you want me to kiss it away? And–” You cut yourself off with a snort, unable to take any of this seriously. Sunwoo was your roommate of a few years. It was different to pretend like you were dating him after accidentally falling asleep in his bed so many times.

“This is so funny,” you laughed. “Can you believe what I just said?” Except you trailed off when you looked up, only to see that he was staring at you with big eyes and red cheeks. There was a sort of hopefulness behind his gaze and you could almost feel his heart which was beating a mile a minute. “Wait a minute. You…”

“No,” he whispered, cringing as if he already knew what you were going to say.

“You liked it. You liked me babying you!” You exclaimed in revelation.

He groaned. “I didn’t.”

“You did.” You smiled wider. “What should I call you? My love?”

He stared at you, clearly not fazed.

“Angel? Cutie pie?”

He looked away and grumbled, “You’re embarrassing me.”

“Hm…” You leaned against his shoulder. The two of you were close as such. Though you only met through just being roommates, you got along perfectly well. Sunwoo who was significantly less energetic than you, always treated you well and tended to cheer you up when you were down. You did the same for him, always cracking jokes just to see that laugh and smile that rarely appeared.

You looked up at him, causing him to gulp and stare back. “What about baby?”

It seemed that you had hit the center of the target. That pet name was enough to send him reeling and then clearing his throat. He turned away and tried to cover his face with his hands. 

“I… I hate it,” he whispered.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you teased back. “Baby.” You marveled at the way he blushed further as he stood up abruptly and made his way to his bed that was just across yours. And like the absolute fool he was, he plopped down and screamed in his pillow.

You laughed loudly. “You do know I’m still here, right?”

“I’m ignoring you,” he mumbled, his voice muffled in the pillow.

“You can’t,” you sang. “We still have to take cute couple pictures.”

“I’ll get back to you later.”

Sunwoo approached you cautiously the next day. His hands fidgeted and he still struggled to look you in the eye.

“Let’s do it.”

“Just like that?” You stared at him slyly.

He nodded quietly. “Don’t… don’t make me take it back.”

“Okay,” you giggled. “I already have an idea for the first picture.”

“And that is?” He raised an eyebrow as he watched you get up from your bed. You walked over to his closet and opened it. He was suspicious, observing how you rummaged through his clothes before pulling out one of his hoodies. You held it up over your body and looked at him for confirmation. Except, he had no idea what exactly he was confirming. 

“You want me to wear it?” He frowned.

You shook your head. “Can I wear it?”

His eyes widened comically. His gaze wandered over you again, but this time, taking note of how the hoodie was significantly larger on you than on him. “Wear… my hoodie?” 

You nodded enthusiastically. When you caught on to how unsure he looked, you gave him a pleading look. Sunwoo gulped. You knew how hard it was for him to say no if you put on the right expression.

“Fine.”

With ease, almost like you had stolen his hoodie before already, you pulled it over your head. Immediately, it consumed you in warmth and it smelled just like him. You held your arms out and turned back to him, tilting your head questioningly. 

“What do you think?”

The man simply could not even speak. He had no words but you could tell just by looking at him. He blinked and looked away, his ears turning an alarming red. His hands grasped onto the bed as if to try to keep himself from somehow falling off it.

“You…” His voice trailed off, looking back to you. Previously, he was just avoiding his eyes but now he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You liked it when he looked at you like that–so admiringly with a soft gaze. It made you feel weird inside. “Cute. You look cute.”

You laughed. “Thank you.” You approached him and held your hand out to gesture him to get up. But instead of following your gesture, he straight up took hold of your hand, his thumb caressing the back of it. “Oh.” You stared at him, wide-eyed. Still, you quickly recovered and led him over to the nearby mirror set up in your dorm.

You stood in front of him and gently led him to stand close behind you. 

Then, you said something that left him coughing on plain air.

“Backhug me.”

“What?” He squawked. Yet again, he was blushing. You didn’t know you were that capable of making him blush so much.

When you stared at him expectantly, he could only sigh. Hesitantly, you felt two arms tentatively being wrapped around your waist. His hold was gentle, almost like he was afraid to hurt you in some way. He leaned closer and tightened his embrace ever so slightly. You couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat at the way he held you so gently and warmly.

“Like this?” He whispered into your ear.

A quick “mhm!” was all you could reply with. You pulled your phone out and positioned it to take a picture of the mirror reflection. When you zoomed in, you could see how embarrassed Sunwoo was as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You suppressed a giggle. “You can hide your face if you want. It can create suspense.”

He happily obliged as he turned his head to instead hide his face in the crook of your neck. You tried not to shiver at how his lips and breath brushed against your skin. 

The picture turned out perfectly with how his arms wrapped around you firmly and your giddy smile could be seen. Only Sunwoo’s fluffy hair was visible as he nuzzled into your neck. You couldn’t help but think… why did this look so realistic?

“Okay,” you whispered, patting his hand. “We’re done.”

But even after that, Sunwoo refused to let go. Instead, he held you closer, pulling your back to his chest. You gasped quietly.

“Sunwoo?”

“I like holding you like this,” he mumbled, almost sleepily. It was like he was in some sort of trance.

Your heart was beating a million times faster now. “You like hugging me? Do you want to do it everyday then?”

He looked up and quickly pulled away as if he just realized what he was doing. “I–” When he caught sight of your teasing face, he groaned and pulled away. “Forget what I said.”

“I don’t think I can.” You grinned. “Hug me again if you want.” 

He stared longingly like he really did want to. But instead, he tore his gaze away and headed into your shared bathroom, mumbling to himself.

“What was I thinking?”

You couldn’t help but smile fondly. Who knew your roommate could be so endearing?

“You know what would be cute?” You stood at his bed. Sunwoo was lying down, watching something on his phone as he stared up at you skeptically. You didn’t even allow him to answer. “Candid photos.”

“Candid photos?” He furrowed his eyebrows with confusion. His eyes traveled down to where you slightly shivered from the cold weather. Almost immediately like it was the most natural thing, he held up the blankets so that you could climb in. You happily obliged, snuggling up to his warm body.

This was what you meant by “accidentally falling asleep on his bed so many times.” He always offered you his bed when you were cold and somehow, you would open your eyes to the morning sun. 

“Candid photos!” You exclaimed, causing him to wince ever so slightly. “And they have to be real. You know, the type where you really have no idea that the camera’s on you.”

“How’re we gonna do that?” He muttered, yawning. “We’re always aware of each other.” It was only the afternoon yet for some reason, whenever you were cuddled up to him, he became a lot more sleepy.

You thought for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know, it was just an idea. I doubt it’ll really work out.”

He hummed silently before he readjusted the blankets over you, prioritizing your warmth over his. You smiled and began to start rambling about random topics that came up in your head. That was what you liked about Sunwoo. He was quiet but he always listened.

But maybe… always was an overstatement.

You paused abruptly. Sunwoo had fallen asleep, his lips pulled into a natural pout. You couldn’t help but look at him in endearment.

“Do I talk too much?”

When he didn’t respond, you sighed and were about to leave the bed. But then, a hand caught your wrist, pulling you back in.

“You don’t talk too much,” he mumbled.

“You’re… awake?”

“Barely. Now keep on talking. I like it.”

Your heart swelled.

You were slowly losing your battle with exhaustion. You sat at the library desk, your eyesight growing blurry as you stared hopelessly at your computer. You needed to finish up an assignment but the lack of sleep was definitely getting to you.

To no avail, your head slumped down and you quickly fell asleep with your cheek resting in your arms. 

It took Sunwoo, who was studying next to you, a while to notice that your typing had long stopped. But when he did, he peered down at you to make sure you were okay. Of course, you were. You just fell asleep. 

He shook his head. Typical. Yet he couldn’t let go of the fond smile that overtook his lips.

He took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. Then, he sat back down next to you and chose to simply admire your features. His heart bloomed and his feelings grew impossibly larger. 

Pretty even when asleep.

After admiring you for a little while longer, he spotted his phone nearby and came up with an amazing idea. He opened the camera and took a picture, making sure not to get any bad angles of you. He smiled adoringly at the picture.

Your eyes were shut and your cheek was squished against your arm. But even so, he thought you were just beautiful. In the very corner of the picture, his hand was resting on your head, stroking through your hair ever so gently. As quietly as he could, he put down his phone and returned to stroking your hair. 

And even after you woke up and the two of you headed back together, he still found himself staring at the picture late at night with a stupidly bewitched smile.

You giggled quietly at the amount of likes and comments that the two of you had received from the first picture. Your eyes landed on one of the comments made by your very own friend.

finally !!!! 🥰

“Finally?” You mumbled to yourself, staring at your phone perplexed. You looked up to steal a glance at Sunwoo, only to find him sitting at his desk, earphones plugged in. He was writing things down in a notebook but you were more focused on his handsome face.

You were no stranger to the fact that Sunwoo was a good-looking guy. He had pretty yet masculine features, pouty lips, and what you liked the most–his fluffy hair. Sometimes but very rarely, he let you play with it.

Where you were sitting was the perfect angle to capture his sharp jawline. You quickly brought up your phone and snapped a picture. 

“Aha!” You suddenly yelled, loud enough for Sunwoo to startle and pull off his earphones. He stared at you in alarm. You were standing up, looking at your phone like you had just won the lottery. “I got it! The candid photo.” You held up your phone, showing off the picture you took of him sitting at his desk.

His cheeks flushed as his eyes scanned over it.

“Why now?” He whined.

“You looked handsome.”

Sunwoo froze, his whole body going rigid. “I did?”

“Of course baby.”

He scowled, trying his best to look annoyed but ultimately failed. You could see how embarrassed he was over being complimented and from that particular pet name.

“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled.

“Okay.”

His head snapped up. “Wait actually–”

“Okay, baby.” You grinned at him with amusement. You knew that he was going to immediately take his words back. Once he heard the pet name again, he practically melted at the sound of it. 

“Oh, I…” He pulled out his phone. “I took one of you too.”

You widened your eyes in surprise. “You did? When?”

“Yesterday,” he shyly replied. He showed you the picture of you asleep in the library after failing to finish an already overdue assignment. You cringed and hid your face. 

“Agh, I look bad,” you complained, a blush appearing on your face. Sunwoo quickly noticed and he stared at you in absolute awe. He thought you were cute like this.

“Why?” He frowned, completely serious. “I thought you looked really pretty.”

“Whoa,” you gasped. “Since when were you so bold?”

He stared at you for a moment as if it was still registering in his head what he just said. And then he coughed awkwardly and averted his gaze. “I won’t take it back.”

You pulled on his arm, letting him sit beside you. “And why’s that?”

“Because it’s true,” he whispered. “You look pretty. All the time.”

Your lips parted as you stared at him in shock. When you asked about him being bold, you didn’t expect him to become even more so. “Sunwoo,” you breathed out. This was normal for roommates, right?

His eyes wandered down to your lips for a brief second before he frantically checked the watch. “I have a meeting with my professor. I– I should go.”

“Wait–” 

But he was already grabbing his bag, putting on his shoes, and scrambling out the door. You furrowed your eyebrows and checked the date. His professor certainly wasn’t in office that day. So why exactly did he run away?

“How’d the meeting with your professor go?” You crossed your arms over your chest with a raised eyebrow.

He cringed and avoided your eyes. “I didn’t meet with him.”

“Just as I thought,” you hummed. “But you run away after telling me I’m pretty?” Without even realizing it, you were practically interrogating him, backing him up against the door. He swallowed thickly as he stared down at you with flushed cheeks. You frowned further, noticing how he tried so very hard to avoid your gaze—a clear sign of a lie. “Am I missing something here?”

You couldn’t help but overthink. Was it you? Did you maybe do something wrong that made him regret complimenting you? You would admit that the way he called you pretty with such a low yet admiring voice made your heart flutter ever so slightly. So why did he take it back so quickly?

“Y/n.” He sighed with defeat. His eyes scanned over your face, doused with skepticism and worry. And to your surprise, he was the one who stepped forward, tugging on your arm and pulling you to his chest. “I’m sorry. I got embarrassed.” His voice quieted and you could feel his heartbeat speed up.

You inhaled in surprise, pulling away to stare up at him. “You ran away because you were… shy?” Your eyes soon began to glint with wonder.

He nodded quietly.

“That’s–” you snorted. “That’s so cute.” 

“What?” He choked.

“You know you can say anything to me, right? Sunwoo, how could you be so…” Your hands came up to swipe away the hair that fell over his face, revealing his forehead. You had the sudden need to kiss it, but quickly stomped that thought away. Instead, you simply chose to just look into his eyes with an endeared smile, one that sent his face softening and the hand around your waist tightening anxiously. 

“So?” He pried shyly.

“So perfect.” You grinned, continuing to play with his hair. Usually, he would flinch or get startled. But this time, he almost melted into your touch like a puppy. After a few more minutes of combing your fingers through his hair, you suddenly pulled away, much to his disliking. You almost missed the way he tried to reach forward for you again.

“Baby, let’s go out on a date,” you spoke casually, almost like you two were a real couple. He tilted his head in confusion.

“Like…”

“Let’s fake go out,” you corrected yourself, overlooking the way his shoulders sank ever so slightly. “Our last post was so popular–the one with the candid photos? So many people are rooting for us.”

Sunwoo quickly brightened when he noticed how wide you were smiling. He always liked it when you were happy. And so, he reached for his coat and beckoned for the door. “Then let’s go.” He charmingly smiled at you back, one that almost made you forget to grab your own coat too.

The two of you opted to take a walk in the park. The weather was beautiful with its bright blue skies and perfectly angled sun. Though, it was still chilly causing you to huddle up to Sunwoo’s side which he seemed to thoroughly enjoy. 

“Though this is an early Valentine’s Day contest, do you have an actual valentine when the day comes?” You peered up at him curiously.

He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head sheepishly. “No, I don’t have one.” He paused and looked at you cautiously. “Do you?”

You replied similarly with a shake of your head. Oddly, Sunwoo seemed to relax at your answer.

“Then… wouldn’t you saw that we would be perfect for each other?” You asked teasingly. “Considering we both don’t have anyone.”

You expected Sunwoo to maybe laugh at your joke or refute it with a roll of his eyes. But instead, he gave you a stupidly soft smile as he hummed approvingly. “I’d think so. I think I…” He puffed his chest out. “Would be perfect for you.”

You gaped at him before sputtering with a laugh. You leaned into him, your laughter causing you almost to topple over. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he huffed. “Don’t I look serious?”

You raised an eyebrow and stared at how he somehow tried to make himself look tougher and taller. “No.”

He made an incoherent sound with his throat before deflating with defeat. You couldn’t help but giggle, hopelessly endeared. “Sunwoo.”

“Hm?”

“You would be perfect for me,” you said. “Just… you know, without trying to look taller and bigger. I think I like you just how you are.” You scrunched your nose and pinched his cheek.

Sunwoo looked at you with hope in his eyes. “Really?”

“Really.”

He blushed profusely as he desperately tried to come up with some sort of response. All he could come up with was a stuttering, “I like you just how you are too.”

“Thank you,” you teased. Then, you suddenly stopped him. Without an explanation, you ran over to a nearby bench to set your phone down, facing the trail that the two of you were just walking on. He stared at you curiously as you pressed record. “Let’s keep walking,” you spoke, breathlessly.

He smiled, slowly catching on. Your initial plan was to record you walking alongside him while chatting. But instead, your plan came falling down.

Sunwoo was the one who took hold of your hand. His hands were cool but gentle as he hesitantly intertwined his fingers with yours, locking you in his hold. He stared down at you with an absolutely lovesick smile that sent you briefly spiraling with confusion before you decided to push those feelings down to decipher for later. 

You experimentally swung his hand making him laugh and tighten his hold on your hand.

“Don’t let go,” he whispered after leaning close to your ear. It was like he didn’t want your phone to pick up his words—like he wanted to preserve affection only for you.

“I won’t.” You grinned. You suddenly felt a huge surge of affection and you leaned your head on his shoulder. He tilted his body slightly so it was more comfortable. 

“Do roommates act like we do?” You asked quietly. “You confuse me, Sunwoo.”

His thumb caressed your hand and you could feel the beat of his heart resonate through yours. “I don’t know. But all I know is that I care for you, Y/n.”

You felt your throat go dry. You started to wonder if you were completely oblivious all this time—that maybe his smiles and his tentative touches on you meant something completely else. You weren’t just incredibly close roommates but… something else. Yet, you didn't know what.

“I think we need to talk later,” you whispered.

You felt Sunwoo stiffen next to you and his hand pulled away slightly. 

After walking back to your shared dorm with his hand grasped in yours and his jacket now wrapped around your shoulders because you got cold, the two of you sat down on the bed. A silence had befallen the two of you–hesitant and full of possibilities good or bad. 

“Sunwoo,” you finally spoke up, turning to him with a concerned face. “I need to ask you something.”

His fists clenched nervously in his lap. “Yeah?”

“What did… all this mean to you? This fake couple thing that we had going on.” You didn’t even know the answer yourself. In the very beginning, you were sure this would just be a simple facade so that you could satisfy your craving for competition. But it no longer was a facade. It was something that left your feelings jumbled into a tangle of romantic emotions for your roommate. 

His eyes shifted away. Already, you could tell there was going to be a lie that would leave his lips.

“Nothing. I just wanted to help you.”

“Really?” You inquired slowly. 

“Yeah,” he whispered untruthfully. “I– I have to meet a friend now. So–” He got up and almost made his way to the door if you hadn’t held onto his hand and pulled him back to face you. You stepped backward only to realize that you had already run out of space and he was now cornering you against the desk. 

You widened your eyes, glancing down to where one hand of his was holding onto yours while the other was resting on the desk. You were close, too close and you didn’t know what to do. It seemed Sunwoo didn’t know either.

“What are we doing?” He quietly asked, his voice low. His gaze shifted across your features nervously.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Y/n…”

“First, you call me pretty all the time with those stupid soft eyes and sweet smiles. And then you supposedly stroked my hair while I was asleep? And you– you say that you care for me which, didn’t sound like how a mere friend would say it.” You groaned, a blush appearing on your cheeks. “I just don’t get it.”

“Y/n,” he said again. When you looked up, you realized that he was smiling at you and only you. His gaze was yet again gentle and warm as he let go of your hand and the desk, instead opting to snake them around your waist to pull you into his embrace.

You gasped quietly. And then you grumbled, cursing yourself for relaxing into his warm hold. “Why do you always hug me like this?” 

He didn’t answer just yet, instead pulling away to simply stare at your face as if to silently tell you that you were beautiful. When you looked closely, you could see that his ears were red and his pupils dilated.

“And why…” You breathed out shakily. “Why do you look at me like that?”

Even when you tried to glare at him to make him look away, he just kept on looking at you like that. It was like ice how his face would just melt whenever you would come in sight. Sometimes his lips would pull into a pout when he was worried about you. Other times, he would have this faint smile full of fondness whenever you so much as laugh.

And finally, Sunwoo answered. It was quiet and filled with insecurity but you could hear it anyway.

“Because I want you to be my real valentine. I… really like you, Y/n.”

You could feel the walls that you tried to build up quickly come crumbling down. Your hands rested on his chest as you stared up at him in utter shock. “What?”

“This whole time that we’ve been this fake couple, I wanted it to be real,” he whispered, biting his lip shyly. He was hiding back a smile and you admired how cute he looked doing so. “I want to be yours and I want you to be mine. And for a while now.”

Your lips were also fighting back a wide smile. “You want me to be yours?”

He nodded quietly, staring at you unsurely. “But I’m a clumsy fool for you. That’s why I try to run away all the time. Because I… I don’t want you to see that side of me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “But I like that side of you.”

“But–”

“And who said I’m not already yours?” 

He stared at you as if to try to process your words. When they finally did, he let out a quiet whine and leaned forward to hide his face in the crook of your neck. “But wasn’t this a fake thing for you to win a competition?” He mumbled against your skin, his breath tickling.

You hummed. “I take it back. I hereby state that we’ve been a real couple this whole time. And that’s because I really like you too, Sunwoo.”

His hold on your waist tightened and he pulled back to stare at you with adorably wide puppy eyes. “You do? You–”

You grinned, finally letting your happiness and new feelings overcome you. And this time, you buried your face into him, but instead in his chest, inhaling his familiar, warm scent.

“You can’t joke with me, Y/n.” His voice vibrated throughout your whole body.

“I’m not!” You laughed. 

He could only stare at you skeptically. But even with his suspiciousness, you could tell that he too, felt giddy with how his blush had spread to his cheeks. 

But, there must be some way to further convince him that you returned his feelings. 

That was when an idea hit you. You quickly led him to sit on your bed and pulled out your phone. 

“We should take a selfie for the contest.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Now? Right after I just confessed my feelings?” But no matter how tough or nonchalant he tried to look, you could feel his care in the way his hand yet again, found its way around your waist, rubbing circles on your hip as he stared at you attentively.

You nodded slyly. Then, you held up the phone and leaned close so that your cheek was practically against his. Sunwoo smiled awkwardly yet endearingly as he waited for you to press the button. 

But instead of simply posing and taking the picture, you decided to turn your head and press a kiss to his cheek. Your phone made the click! sound but all you could hear was Sunwoo’s sharp inhale. 

You put your phone down and faced him. Sunwoo was simply speechless, unable to let out a single word. His hand came up to touch the spot that you had just pressed your lips to as he dumbly gaped at you.

“Did you just…”

You nodded, smiling excitedly. “Did that prove it? That I really like you too?”

He could only mutter a quiet yes, his chest heaving up and down. 

“Is your heart okay?” You teased.

He held a hand over it. “No, I think I’m dying.”

You burst out laughing, leaning into his side. You opened your phone to look at the picture that you just took. It was adorably hilarious. Sunwoo was staring at the camera, not with that awkward smile, but rather with his lips parted and his eyes wide. Your eyes were closed with your lips in contact with his cheek.

“Isn’t it cute?”

He groaned. “That’s embarrassing. I wasn’t ready.”

“That was the point.” You rolled your eyes.

“Then… can we take another one?” He stared at you hopefully. “And this time, when we’re both ready.”

You immediately knew what he was talking about but chose to tease him further. “And how do we do that?”

He grimaced and took in a deep breath. “You’ll see.”

“Okay.” You smiled, inching closer just to make it a little easier for him. Again, you held up the phone, positioning it so it would capture both of your faces–both flushed with newfound romantic feelings. 

Sunwoo then carefully cupped your jaw, turning you to face him. You stared wide-eyed, feeling your heart stutter at just how close he was. Then, he whispered softly, “Can I kiss you, Y/n?” It was at that moment that you began to miss the shy Sunwoo who always ran away because now, you began to feel weak all over, even struggling to hold up your phone. 

You nodded slowly and Sunwoo smiled, completely captivated by you. He leaned in after and you closed your eyes, feeling a pair of soft lips on yours. Momentarily, you forgot what moment to press the capture button and instead opted to continuously press it in hopes it would work. But no matter the angle you took the picture, nothing would compare to the feeling of Sunwoo’s gentle touch on you as he tilted your head up and kissed you lovingly. 

Soon enough, it seemed that he had gotten too enthusiastic as he pressed further forward, causing you to lose balance and fall back against the bed with a yelp.

“Sunwoo!” You broke apart momentarily, catching your breath. Sunwoo now caged you under his arms, pinning you to the bed. His fluffy hair fell over his forehead adorably and his eyes were full of adoration.

“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t think kissing you would feel so nice.”

You stared at him, utterly shocked before sighing with a shy smile. “Then why don’t you continue?”

“Of course,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks first. “Maybe don’t take pictures of this though. This moment is just for us only.”

You snorted, glancing down to where your phone had already fallen to the floor. Sunwoo smiled with a glint in his eyes before he leaned back down to attach his lips again. 

“What is that picture?” He groaned, staring down at your phone. You were cuddled up to his side, resting your head on his chest as you scrolled through the pictures you just took.

The first was the cheek kiss which you would never get over with his cute, shocked face. The next was just before the two of you had your first kiss, your cheeks red and Sunwoo’s eyes already looking down at your lips. You swiped to the next picture where the two of you were actually kissing, small smiles forming on both of your lips.

And then there was the last one you took before your phone fell. It was blurry but you could still easily make out what was happening. You were falling backward on the bed as Sunwoo pounced on you from kissing so hard. Sunwoo’s eyebrows were furrowed with focus and you could briefly see your arm that was up in the air, about to grab hold of his neck for balance. 

You giggled. “We’re so going to win.”

“Is that all you care about?” He grumbled.

“Is someone sulky?” You cooed. “Don’t worry, I care about you the most.”

He huffed before holding you closer in his embrace. The two of you fell asleep right after he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You slapped your hand over your mouth, staring at the post on your screen.

“We didn’t win.”

Sunwoo sat up, blinking heavily from sleep. “What?” He mumbled. “I thought you said we were popular.”

“We were,” you whined. “But another couple still beat us.” You peered at the picture of the winners, recognizing the guy as one of your classmates, Eric. It was a cute photo, you would admit with how he had his hand around his significant other’s waist and how he smiled at them, clearly in love.

He reminded you much like a certain someone.

Sunwoo tilted his head. “So what was the prize then?”

“Oh! Right.” You peered closer. And then you huffed. “It was a free date to a fancy restaurant.”

He stared at you for a while, leaving you confused. But to surprise you even more, he leaned in and kissed you. “Let’s go out today.”

“Where?” You widened your eyes.

“To that fancy restaurant. Who needs the prize when I can pay for it?”

[spookyunwon]

RED LIGHTS — [18+!]

AN INTERACTIVE CHRISTMAS SERIES

💻 Forget about every other reality TV show that’s part of your guilty pleasure watchlist. This Christmas time, there’s only one you will ever need to know about and get absolutely obsessed with. Red Lights—the perfect combination of your favourite concepts all in a cosy setting for winter. However, the contestants aren’t aware what they are signing up for and how they are already connected to each other before the start of it. [announced here on 27/05/23]

❗️[READ CAREFULLY] You, Y/N, are part of this year’s season, starring as the main character, surrounded by eight very different men that you have all met before. But it’ll need some time and decision making to find out who they are and to get closer to them. In order to decide how the story unfolds and what happens in following episodes, select an option for the poll after reading a chapter. Similar to a christmas calendar, a new episode will be added each day from 1st December until the big finale on 25th December 2023! [polls will be up for 24h and then the next part drops]

🛷 CONTENT INFO: skz ot8 x afab reader [not at the same time], reality/dating show AU, tropes will be revealed throughout the story, smut/fluff/angst, lots of discussion about the moral perspective of dating shows, it’s an alternative concept that tries to be less problematic/toxic, they are flawed characters and you should keep that in mind, content warning under the cut

📕 WORD COUNT: 17.6K/?

🎸 SPOTIFY PLAYLIST

CHAPTERS:

[1] — NOT SHY | [2] — LIMITLESS | [3] — BABY ONE MORE TIME | [4] — THANK YOU, NEXT | [5] — MOTIVE | [6] — SUPER SHY | [7] — [???] | more to be added…

🥀 CONTENT WARNING: alcohol consumption, cringe [yes that’s a warning, also this is a reality dating show ok], explicit sexual content, mention of breakup, unrequited love and jealousy [more might be added throughout the writing and publishing process]

❤️‍🔥 AUTHOR’S NOTE: lmk if you want to be added to the taglist because you plan to leave meaningful comments after reading! have a nice and cosy christmas time in case you celebrate it :)

The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Minors do not interact, this post contains mature topics. By reading you consent to nsfw content and agree that you have read all the warnings above carefully.

© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

[spookyunwon]

don't think so

sunwoo x reader

when you hate the man who sits in front of you at the office, but end up getting stuck in a closet with him

genre: office au, enemies to lovers (pretty one-sided), setup like jim and dwight from the office, bickering, close proximity in a closet, teasing, flusteredness notes: hey so.... i don't have any other excuse besides school is trying to murder me. so busy i haven't even been able to keep up with tbz so it's a little hard to write for them at the moment 😭 i hope you enjoy and not sure of the coming months :( word count: 3.1k

Avoiding him was the main goal. 

And when you set a goal, you meant it. You would sacrifice anything to achieve it: your sustainment like the lunch breaks that you’ve purposely missed to avoid seeing him, your enjoyment like when you sat in the very back of the meeting rooms where you couldn’t see to avoid sitting next to him, and… your sleep.

It was an ungodly hour in the morning. Your eyes were threatening to glue shut but at least you would be early enough to work that you wouldn’t have to see him.

But then again, there was the disappointing fact that he still sat at the desk in front of yours. Waking up early only stalled your time away from him. When your shift actually started, you would still be forced to look at his obnoxious face.

With a yawn, you walked over to your desk and put your stuff down. When you looked up, you quietly gasped at the sight. 

Sunwoo.

Sunwoo was sitting at his desk, you know, the one right in front of yours, dozing off. He was dressed in his usual work attire–a suit and a tie–but the only thing that was different was that his hair was messy. Like he had just woken up recently.

The whole plan was to avoid him yet you still failed. Suppressing a groan, you walked over to him, leaned down, and slapped him right on his cheek. He startled and his eyes shot open. 

“What was–” He looked up at you before narrowing his eyes. With a grumble, he thumped his head down onto the desk. “What do you want?”

You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “You were sleeping. So I woke you up.”

“It’s cause I came early,” He mumbled, ruffling his own hair as he sat back up, leaning back in his office chair.

“And why’d you do that?” You raised an eyebrow, reaching over and purposely knocking over one of his figurines. A raccoon to be exact. It looked like him. 

“Because you usually come early,” He bluntly replied, picking up the figurine and threatening to throw it in your face. He smirked when he noticed you flinch, annoyingly enough.

You scoffed. “Yeah, for a reason.”

“The reason is me, I presume?” He looked at you unimpressed.

“Precisely.”

Turning on your heel, you walked back to your desk, narrowly avoiding the fact that he actually ended up throwing the figurine. And apparently, bickering with your office enemy causes time to fly because you already had to start your work. You turned on your computer and began to type, ignoring the man in front of you who was kicking your desk.

Then, you heard footsteps behind you and a cup being placed down on your desk. You widened your eyes, noticing that it was your favorite drink–warm and inviting, perfect for the weather. You looked up, coming face-to-face with Sangyeon leaning against your desk.

“For me?” Your eyes brightened.

He nodded, smiling kindly. “It was on the way.”

“Thank you so much!” You beamed, waving as he walked away. You stared at the drink lovingly. Already, you could feel that it made your day. 

After you took a sip, you were about to turn back to your screen when you realized that there was a certain someone glaring daggers at you. His eyebrows were furrowed and he obviously looked annoyed.

You eyed him, your smile souring. “What?”

“Nothing,” He curtly replied. “You’re just irritating when you’re happy.”

You frowned, reaching over and moving his monitor until it completely blocked his face. “Then don’t look at me,” You gritted out.

He peeked around the monitor anyway. “I can’t help it.”

You huffed, choosing to ignore him.

Whenever you were getting focused, you liked to put your hair up. It didn’t matter what style, as long as it didn’t bother you. And so, bringing your hair up, you were about to put it up when you could feel a presence staring at you. 

You looked at him, unimpressed.

“You know you’re really creepy right?”

And it seemed that you actually caught him off guard because he quickly sat up and cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“I wasn’t staring.”

After working with Sunwoo for–unfortunately–a while, you found that he hated it when you showed no interest in him. If you acted unbothered or bored with him, he would quickly become annoyed. That was your favorite way of pestering him.

And so, you simply shrugged, turning away.

“Okay.”

And just like you had expected, he huffed in disbelief. You could tell from your peripheral vision that he was getting irritated.

“Actually,” He decided to speak up. “I was staring at you.”

So, that wasn’t what you expected him to say. You expected a mere insult but for him to admit that he was actually looking at you tying your hair up was something else.

“Sunwoo,” You whispered, getting up from your chair to lean over his desk. “Wanna know something?”

He leaned in to hear you. “What?”

“Shut up.”

He leaned back with a roll of his eyes. “No. Also, there’s a piece of hair sticking out.” He motioned to the side of your head.

You groaned, got up from your desk, and rushed to the bathroom. Except, when you looked in the mirror, you realized that he was in fact, lying. Your hair was perfectly fine. 

“That asshole.”

-

“I don’t think it’s all too bad,” Sangyeon said, sipping on the new flavor of coffee that your boss insisted on replacing the old one with. The old one was perfectly fine.

“It’s not,” You groaned. “The coffee’s the only reason why I come to the break room.”

Sangyeon shrugged, taking the cup from you. You’ve counted that he’s already drank four cups of coffee. This is his fifth. A little worrying in your opinion.

Then, you stood up and twirled for him. Sangyeon lifted an eyebrow at your sudden action. You huffed.

“It’s a new outfit. What do you think?’

“Oh,” Sangyeon laughed. “I was confused for a second. It looks good and suits you well,” He answers, smiling. You were about to thank him but you noticed that he was balancing his coffee in one hand and his computer in the other. He groaned. “Sorry, I have to go now. Eric’s been bothering me on how to send a stupid email.”

You shake your head and say goodbye. Going back to work is the least ideal thing that you wanted to do so you attempted to stay back and look busy. In the break room.

“Someone’s awfully happy to be talking to Sangyeon,” A deep voice sounds from behind you.

You yelp in surprise and quickly turn around only to accidentally elbow Sunwoo in the stomach. At first, you tried to say sorry but when you realized that it was him and that you both mutually hate each other, you kept your mouth shut.

He winced, holding onto the spot that you had just elbowed.

“Why?” He managed to say.

“You scared me.”

He simply hummed as a response. You peered at him curiously, noticing that something was a bit off with him. He looked more grumpy than usual, his eyebrows furrowed with what you could assume to be frustration. 

You decided not to beat around the bush. “Why do you look more pissed than usual?”

“Because I am,” He snapped.

Though it was common for Sunwoo to be a bit snarky, you couldn’t help but be a bit taken aback.

“How come?” You tilted your head.

He froze and you could have sworn that his eyes wandered away from your face, down to your outfit. “Just that…” He trailed off, fidgeting nervously. You could tell he was stalling. You could tell that he wanted to run. But instead, you stepped closer, staring straight into his eyes.

“That?”

“That you’re wearing that outfit.”

The small light of hope in your heart quickly dimmed into nothing. You took a step back, a frown taking over your curious smile. “You’re mad because I’m wearing this outfit?”

His eyes widened. “No, I–” But he sighed. Though it almost looked like he wanted to say more.

You stayed quiet, taking even more steps backward. “I mean,” You started, your voice laced with hurt. “If you’re that bothered by my existence, you might as well just stop talking to me at all.” Without giving him a chance to reply, you turned around and walked away.

-

You laughed, watching as Sangyeon desperately tried to get the printer to work. Then he approached you with a tired look on his face.

“Can you go to the supply closet and get more paper?” He asked, his tired look turning into a pleading one.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.”

As you got up, you let out a small sigh of relief. Sunwoo’s nowhere to be seen. Good, because you were still angry at him. Of course, you were always annoyed, but this time it was different. Walking past his desk, you headed towards the closet.

It was incredibly small–not the best for people who might be claustrophobic. Still, you just needed to get the paper and get out. But, just as you were leaving and opening the door, you almost ran straight into someone’s chest.

Startled, you were about to apologize, only to realize that of course, it was him.

“What’re you doing here?” You clenched your jaw.

“I have to get a mop,” He calmly replied. “Eric spilled coffee all over the floor.”

But of course, he didn’t let you exit. Instead, he cornered you into the closet. When he noticed you stumbling and backing up against the wall, he smiled in amusement which you grumbled at.

You could hear the door closing behind him, engulfing you two in only the dim light that the closet provided. It was harder to see and so you gulped when he reached around you for the mop, touching your waist briefly before backing away. 

Then, he paused, setting it to the side for a second.

“About earlier…” 

You frowned, not really in the mood to talk about it right now. “Can we at least argue outside of this small closet?” You don’t even allow him an answer as you’re already pushing past him. But, as you try to turn the handle, it doesn’t budge. You shake it, push down on it, everything, and still, the door refuses to open.

That’s when you realize that you’re doomed. You stood there, shoulders stiff and brooding over the handle as you prayed that maybe this was all just a prank. 

And what made it worse is that you’re stuck in a closet with the man who you pronounced a long time ago to be your sole enemy. He stood behind you, peering over your shoulder.

“Too weak to open a door?”

You sighed, turning to face him, only for your breath to hitch because you completely forgot just how close he was to you. “It’s locked.”

“It’s what?” He widened his eyes, searching your gaze to make sure you were not messing with him. He reached around you and tried to turn the handle as well. You truly hoped that maybe he had magic and would open the door. But again, it wouldn’t budge.

You hung your head back and leaned against the wall, trying your best not to curse. Meanwhile, Sunwoo turned to you and set a hand on the wall, right next to your ear to keep his balance. That’s when you realized that he was practically pinning you to the wall.

“This is uncomfortable,” You bluntly stated.

He stayed quiet as he tried to move around to create more distance. Instead, he only ended up stepping even closer with most of his body against yours.

“I can’t move,” He sheepishly said.

“Don’t try,” You mumbled, shutting your eyes with embarrassment. And as if it would help at all, you placed your hands on his chest. He stared quietly before looking away. But even under the dim light, you could tell that he was suppressing a shy smile.

“I’m sure someone will start looking for us soon,” He spoke quietly. “Just wait.”

“Fine.” You let your hands fall to your sides. For such an annoying man, he smelled awfully good. And for such an obnoxious man, he was… handsome up close. But before he would tease you for staring, you spoke up again. “So what were you going to say about yesterday?” You looked up into his eyes.

He cleared his throat and quickly broke eye contact. It was almost like he was too… shy to look you in the eye.

“I wanted to apologize.”

You were shocked, to say the least. “Apologize? You?”

“What, is that so shocking?” He grinned. “But seriously, it was all a misunderstanding.”

You tilted your head. “Then what’d you mean to say?”

“I was mad because you… you didn’t ask me what I thought about your outfit.” His voice was quiet before but now it’s barely audible. 

You stared at him in surprise. And then your lips began to widen into an amused smile, your eyes twinkling.

“Hold on,” You giggled. “You were jealous of Sangyeon?”

He stuttered profusely, “I wouldn’t put it like that but–” He paused, accepting defeat as his shoulders sunk. “Maybe, I guess.”

You laughed even more at his reply. “Why would I ask you? Don’t we argue all the time?”

“Because,” He sighed. “I was going to say that you look pretty. You would like that wouldn’t you?”

You froze at that and you felt your cheeks warming. You could see and sense the way his eyes wandered over you. Was it always this warm in here?

“I guess I would,” You mumbled, looking down to try to hide your reddening cheeks.

He chuckled. And yet again, he surprised you as you felt a gentle hand come up to your ear, tucking a stray piece of hair. You swallowed thickly, choosing not to look into his eyes. You wondered if he was regarding you with a teasing look or a glare.

But when you gathered the courage to look up, it was neither. Instead, his eyes were soft, full of an emotion that you couldn’t quite name.

Sunwoo, who you pronounced to be your sole enemy, wasn’t all that bad. He liked to bicker with you sure, but he never went too far. He even looked out for you sometimes like the time you tripped and fell. He had put a bandage on your knee.

You stared at him in wonder, seeing him in a new light.

“Sunwoo,” You whispered.

He smiled softly. “Hm?”

“Why do you hate me?”

He paused. You could tell he was getting nervous as he shifted awkwardly.

“Because you’re annoying.”

Except, when you looked closely, you noticed that he was blushing. His eyes were avoidant of yours, his cheeks and ears were flushed… he was shy.

The corner of your lips lifted up with mischievousness. And so, you let your hands crawl back up to rest on your chest and this time, it was you who leaned in closer as you held the eye contact. He inhaled sharply.

“I don’t think that’s why,” You teased.

And you expected him to try to refute. But instead, his eyes only softened further as he gave you a fond look.

“You’re right,” He whispered back. “It’s not.”

Slightly taken aback, you quickly recovered. “Then why do you hate me? And tell the truth this time.”

But then, your composure came crashing down when he leaned closer. It was like a game: who would accidentally initiate a kiss first? He stared down at you with a teasing look, a small smirk on his lips.

“I don’t hate you.”

Your heart thumped in your chest. “Wh–”

Suddenly, the closet was flooded with light. The door was open and the two of you turned to the source. There was Eric, out of breath and full of stress. He also seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that he interrupted a tense moment.

“I found you!” He exclaimed. “I thought you two died!”

Sunwoo looked at him in disbelief. “Why would we?”

You didn’t allow any further conversation. With a new pounding in your heart, you shoved past Sunwoo and made your escape.

-

The next day, you couldn’t even look Sunwoo in the eye anymore. Every time you tried, you would be reminded of the scent of his cologne, of his teasing smirk when he said that he didn’t hate you, and of the new feelings that had bloomed in your heart.

As you were packing up your things, you realized that Sunwoo already left. But that was when you noticed a cup on your desk. It was your favorite drink.

“So he remembered,” You mumbled to yourself, turning it and picking up a note attached to it.

Meet me outside

When you exited the building, just like he said, he was waiting for you. He was of course still in work attire, leaning against the wall. His hair was slightly tousled and his features shone in the setting sun. He really was handsome when you didn’t hate his guts.

You approached him cautiously.

“Hey,” He greeted.

“Hi.” You offered a small smile. Small steps would do. Step by step.

You saw him hesitate for a moment before pulling out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. He held it out to you.

Okay, so that was a pretty large step. 

You stared at it in surprise, the colors pretty and vibrant. “What’s this for?” You gasped.

He smiled charmingly, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“Because you’re annoying.”

You huffed in amusement, rolling your eyes. Still, you took it and smiled at him.

“I don’t think so.”

“Right,” He whispered, leaning closer just like before. 

This time, you laughed and took his hand in yours. No more small steps–might as well be bold. You enjoyed the sight of a flustered Sunwoo staring down at your connected hands. Swinging his hand, you started walking home together.

–

A thump on your desk.

Sangyeon’s hand as he leaned against it.

“Y/n,” He warned. “I have something to ask.”

“Hm?” You turned away from your computer.

“I went to the convenience store yesterday.”

You stared at him, bored. “Is that the question?”

“No,” He laughed. “But that’s on your way to your apartment, right?”

You paused and looked at him in confusion. “Yeah, why?”

And then he smiled teasingly. “So why did I see you pressing a kiss to Sunwoo’s cheek?”

It was like an arrow straight through your chest. Standing up, you slammed on the desk, causing everyone in the office to look at you. 

“We were–”

Sangyeon smiled wider. “Your collar’s messed up by the way.”

You looked down at it before flushing and turning away. But just as you did, you caught a glimpse of a smug Sunwoo, sitting at his desk, watching the whole ordeal. You mouthed to him a silent, “I hate you.”

“Admit it, I’m a great kisser,” He mouthed back.

You couldn’t respond to that.

[spookyunwon]

[part one] of guitar strings and peeled tangerines (i’ll bruise my fingers just for you)

non-idol!jacob bae x reader, slight non-idol!ji changmin x reader

when you are unable to continue staying in the city, you are forced to move back to the small provincial town you begged to stay away from. but when you come face-to-face with the reliable village co-chief, jacob bae, you learn that your stay won’t be so pleasant after all.

genre/warnings ➵ childhood friends to strangers to lovers, slow burn, slice of life, angst, slight fluff!, afab reader (they/them pronouns), hurt/comfort, flashbacks, being lost (and trying to figure things out) in your late 20s, a lot of trauma that stem from mommy issues (tiger moms :')), themes of grief, forgiveness, and pressure to succeed, quitting your job & lying to everyone out of shame, realizing you have grown out of your hometown, ju haknyeon is your lovely best friend, jacob bae has issues with you </3, you two also work together, use of nicknames, alludes to someone's death, depictions of panic attacks

word count ➵ 8.2k words

parts ➵ check out the series masterlist

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu @tbzhub

a/n ➵ SHE'S DONE!!! SHE'S OUT!!! EARLY RELEASE YUP!!!! needed this out just to give me time to work on the fic exchange event </3 please be patient for the other parts (there will be more jacob and reader interaction </3) this is very slow burn so i hope you guys will stick with me all throughout! i hope you all enjoy! i would really appreciate it if you could take the time to reblog this (even if it's in your tbr!)

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! main masterlist

The first steps you take are ones you don’t remember; the first time you managed to stand on your own two feet in front of your parents, the first words you say to your dad—poopy—as he changed your diapers, even the first book you read to yourself (it’s The Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister, though you probably didn’t understand the string of words at the time).

Yet, within the four corners of your mind, a cardboard box labeled “do not throw” sits by one of them. It stores fractions of moments that’ll never get lost in a hole that time continues to shovel down; your first day in kindergarten where you scraped your knee from playing, and the first friend made in your first years of school who you cannot help but think about until now.

But most of all, you’ll never forget the aspirations that propelled you to where you stand today. The desire to be good—great, even—so that you could prove that you are capable never seemed to dwindle. And no matter all the times the ambition felt like it would slip from your fingertips, you gripped it tighter than ever, forming calluses all over. You couldn’t allow yourself to settle for less. You had to prove yourself to someone—one who underestimates while expecting everything from you.

It’s funny; a monologue about determination and pride only for you to stand in your apartment littered with boxes filled with household items, ready to move out of busy Seoul. You stand in the middle of the mess, chewing on your bottom lip as your eyes scan through the items that need to be packed and sold.

“Appa, I’m sorry again for causing you trouble,” you whisper.

A chuckle sounds out from the other end of the line. “What’re you sorry for? I’m happy that you’re coming back home!” You sigh as you sit down on your couch. It’ll be the last time you ever get to sit on it until you move tomorrow.

“I swear, I’ll be back on my feet soon enough. It’s just that,” you try to keep your heart at bay. “HR is forcing me to use my vacation days, and rent here is impossible without me doing work.” The lie leaves your mouth like how you practiced it over the past weeks.

You couldn’t stand to break your dad’s heart with the truth. The child who should’ve succeeded had turned into an unemployed individual. Who would’ve expected that you, out of all people, would quit your job? It paid well and kept you afloat amid Seoul, and you wonder why you did that in the first place.

Now, you stand between crossroads without any road signs. Without a clue of which track to thread on, you take steps back rather than moving forward. You were supposed to reach another height your father could commemorate. Instead, you’re back in the town you grew up in—the place you’ve grown to hate, the one you abandoned for the right reasons—and you can only imagine the disappointment that will coat your father’s face as he has to shelter you once more.

The brown container that sits in the corner of your mind doesn’t only store the trinkets that are in good shape—it holds novelties that bring sorrow. No matter how many times you wish you could chuck it down the endless hole, these tangible fragments always land back in the box as if they never left. The case can never be thrown away; there’s nothing you can do but leave it as is, stirring away from it as much as you can.

“I really don’t mind. I mean, it’s been years since I last saw you,” your dad says, and you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek.

“Still, I’m sorry I sprung this on you last minute.” Your eyes land on a picture frame that hangs on the wall. A picture of you and your coworkers during one of the team buildings; it’s your favorite memory with them. “I would’ve asked my friends if they could help me out but they didn’t have the space to accommodate me.”

This time, you were telling the truth. Kim Namjoon from Production and Kang Seulgi from Marketing, your friends from your old job, didn’t have enough room for you in their respective places. You didn’t want to inconvenience them with your troubles, anyway. Ultimately, it’s your fault for leaving your job after all, and it’s not your friends' responsibility to take care of you.

“Y/N,” your father starts. “I said it’s fine. I’m happy to take you back because I miss you.” You pout at his words. Although you had the right reasons to leave home, you felt bad that you abandoned him as well. You two tried to stay in touch through short calls you managed to squeeze into your busy schedules, but you know that it could never replace the comfort of physical presence.

“Appa,” you whine out as you lean back on the couch, the leather squeaking against the friction. “I miss you, too,” your dad chuckles on the other end of the line; it’s a sound you haven’t heard in a while.

As you stare at the opened boxes, you let out a sigh. “Appa, I’ll have to go. I still need to finish packing and sending some items away.” He hums in acknowledgment. “I’ll see you by next week, okay?”

“I’ll pick you up from the station.”

You chuckle before saying, “Appa, it’s fine. I still know my way around town.”

“Still! I want to help you out with your luggage, and the town has changed a bit since you last visited for—”

“I get it,” you cut him off. He doesn’t say anything after that. “I’ll figure it out. I want you to focus on your restaurant, okay?” He only hums. 

A beat passes. You’re about to say something until he beats you to it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

“Appa, it’s fine.” The tone is convincing, but you two knew about the sensitive issue that he almost touched on. A sigh leaves your lips. “I mean it, okay? You don’t have to worry.” The last thing you wanted is for your dad to worry about you again; he’s done enough of that while you were still under his care.

“But I’ll always worry about you because I care. You know that, right?” You bite the inside of your cheek, letting out a hum. Your dad sighs before saying, “Okay, I’ll let you go now. I’m sure you have a lot of things to do.”

You smile to yourself. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, Appa.”

“Bye, Gyul-ah.”

Warmth spreads to your heart. It’s been a while since you heard him call you that—mandarin orange. To you and him, clementines and tangerines looked and tasted the same, no matter what other people tried to convince you of their differences. The fruits were staples in your childhood home, always peeled and ready to eat.

“Bye, Appa.” The call drops. You move your phone to the side before letting out a sigh. You look at the mess that surrounds you. It’s tough work but one that must be done. You’re staying there for two weeks, and you’ll return to your life in Seoul right after. You’ll be able to find a job within that time frame, right?

Six years ago—that was the last time you visited this town. In your time away, it still looks the same. Unlike Seoul, the sky isn’t polluted by the exhaust from cars or the blaring lights of every skyscraper. Puffy white clouds contrast the bright blue.

The sounds of cicadas fill your ears, and the heat pierces your skin. God, you remember why you disliked staying here, and it wasn’t just from the minor issues. So many reasons to leave, and yet, you’re back here with no choice.

A sigh leaves you as you step out of the train. The station looks the same as the last time you left; rust covers the arms of benches, the clock still ticks slower than the one on your wrist, and leaves are scattered all over the floor. You notice only a few passengers have gotten off this stop (five people including you) and you only wonder what business they have here.

Nothing is interesting about where you grew up. It’s a rural area; the fields of fruits and vegetables, a small communal market at the center of town, and only around 200 residents living in this area. It’s a small town—what could’ve changed over the years?

You step out of the station, luggage trailing behind you, and you bump into the busy community. In their arms were crates of produce; vegetables, fruits, eggs, you name it. The faces that passed you were familiar ones, but no one seemed to recognize you. Maybe you grew out of your 18-year-old self. And you expect to feel a sense of relief take over—you have finally grown out of your past—but you feel more displaced than ever.

But before you can dwell on it, you hear someone call your name. The voice is familiar, one you haven’t heard in ages, and your eyes land on a boy—your first friend back in kindergarten. Your heart soars at how much he’s grown. He comes rushing to you with a crate of oranges and drops it as soon as he stands in front of you.

“Juhak,” the nickname leaves your lips, a smile following.

Before you know it, he brings you into a hug; it’s one you haven’t felt in years. “I haven’t seen you in ages!” He smells of citrus, probably from the fruits he was handling. The scent reminds you of home; tangerines and clementines in every corner, unpeeled and ready to consume. Your arms wrap around him, your face snuggling into his shoulder, and you breathe him in—almost to make up for all the years spent separated.

Ten years ago—that was the last time you saw your childhood friend, Ju Haknyeon. The difference between him when you first left versus now isn’t stark. Long gone is his fluffy hair, and a short fringe is what he sports. He’s grown a few inches taller, and he’s definitely gotten more muscle on him. But baby fat still fills his cheeks, and he flashes you a toothy grin; it’s a Juhak signature. In this man, a part of your best friend still resides.

“I—wow, I don’t even know what to say,” he says as he rests his hands on his hips, taking in the sight of you. “Can’t believe you’re dressed up like that.” The chuckle that leaves his lips has you rolling your eyes. Clothed in a pair of jeans whose material seems hotter than fleece and a long-sleeved shirt, you were not dressed for this type of heat. This outfit is normal back in Seoul, even something you would wear during summer, but you’ve forgotten how different the heat is back here.

“Sorry, didn’t know there was a dress code.” It’s laced with sarcasm, and Haknyeon snorts. You pull on your collar, letting the air pass and graze your skin. You smile at him. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” Haknyeon gulps down nothing. It’s a habit of his—swallowing nothing whenever he couldn’t find the right words to say. You’re almost shocked at how his antics are still the same even ten years later.

Silence takes over. In those few seconds, you two allow for it to settle. You two couldn’t believe you’d finally set foot back into this town, and the joy of reuniting with an old friend shifts into discomfort. The reality sinks in—you abandoned your best friend without any notice. 

You divert your gaze to the ground. In your peripheral vision, you spot him picking up the crate. “I, uhm,” you fix your posture, back straight as you stare back at him. A gentle smile rests on his lips, and you’re only reminded of how shitty you were to leave this town with no way to contact you. “I’m—yeah, I don’t even know where to start.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m assuming you're on your way to Abeoji.” He glances at the luggage behind you. As you hum, he says, “I’ll go with you.”

Your eyes widen at his offer, taking a glimpse at the crate he holds. “What about work?” 

“Lucky for you, I just need to drop this off at the market and then we can go.” He flashes you a smile, and you nod, accepting his request and hauling your luggage as you walk side-by-side with him.

As you two make your way to the center, you take in the features of the town. The buildings are shorter than the skyscrapers in Seoul, reaching only two levels high. There were marts selling different products; school supplies, ingredients, amenities, you name it. In every establishment, it would be filled with people who know each other. No matter who you passed, every store clerk had a relationship with the customers, and every customer seemed to know the other shoppers as well. It’s a tight-knit community, you always knew that, but it still amazes you that such an attitude persists after your disappearance.

“Here we are,” Haknyeon says, causing you to halt your steps. “This won’t take long.” Before you know it, he enters the establishment. The store clerk’s expression instantly brightens at the sight of him. As you watch the two interact through the glass window, your heart is enveloped in warmth. It feels similar to the glow in a fireplace—toasty enough to bring you comfort until your hand is too close to the source, leaving a mark that can only be soothed by cold water. The sight shows that Haknyeon is doing well, but it’s enough to remind you of what you missed out on during your absence.

He makes his way out of the store, hands-free, and grins at you. “Well, ready to visit Abeoji?” You nod before walking to your dad’s restaurant. You two make your way out of the center, entering the quieter parts of town. The chatter turns into mumbles and the buzzing of cicadas takes over.

“So, Abeoji renovated the restaurant,” Haknyeon starts. You glance at him before letting your eyes trail back to the path you take.

“Really? How different does it look?” Your dad never mentioned this. Even when you came back to visit six years ago, you were unaware of such plans. But you remember that you two never talk (and you mean actually talk). In your phone calls, it was always small talk—Hi, Appa. Are you doing well? Okay, I’ll ask the same question tomorrow. Bye—and never about what occurred in your separate lives.

“It’s nicer. It still has a wood interior, the chairs, the tables, you know.” You hum at what he says, glad to know that it won’t be too different from the restaurant you grew up with. “But the kitchen is a lot nicer and not as cramped. It’s still small and cozy. Your dad added sleeping quarters to the back.” You look at Haknyeon but he only looks straight, eyes still on the track you two take. 

His revelation made you wonder how much your father had to face all while you were gone. All while you were off in Seoul barely getting by, you can only imagine what your dad must’ve gone through. The waves crash against your heart, dragging it into the sea of black and consuming it as if it were nothing. Did you even have a heart if you abandoned everyone ten years ago?

He meets your gaze, a grin on his lips. “I’m so glad to see that you’re back!” You smile back at him. “If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you back? Does Abeoji have a problem?” His question isn’t meant to be invasive. Out of all people, Haknyeon knew how to respect your boundaries. You wish you could tell him the truth—you’re unemployed and you have nowhere to go but here. And yet…

“Oh, I’m on leave.” His eyebrows raise in shock. “My company told me I need to use my vacation days. It’s part of the policy, you know.” The only truth that stands is that your old company did require you to use those allotted days; it’s their way of ensuring that they aren’t overworking their employees.

“Wow! Didn’t know city life was that progressive,” Haknyeon laughs. “I would’ve gone to Seoul if I knew that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I just got lucky with my company. Work is still work, you know?” He hums along. “I’m guessing you still work with your parents?” It’s a fair assumption considering his family has one of the more giant fruit farms in town.

“Yup!” His eyes sparkle. “I’m going to be taking over the business once Appa retires.” You forget how much Haknyeon enjoys this place. Never once do you remember him ever considering a life in the city, away from the noisy cicadas and troublesome flies. All he needs is found here.

“How’s the city?”

You hum, thinking about where to start. “Everything is cramped but far apart,” you chuckle as you shake your head. “The buildings are so close together but you need to commute to get around, and it’s hard to travel during rush hour.”

Haknyeon scrunches his nose. “That sounds awful.” You nod. “But I’m sure your friends helped you out in adjusting.” He meant to say it with sincerity but the tone is like ice water being thrown at you—a reality check of what you had done to him. You know of your sin—it’ll be one you need to repent for.

You two finally arrive in front of a small building, one that resembles a house. The roof used to be crimson with splotches of black, and the walls were once off-white. But the new look of your dad’s restaurant is a sight to behold; a cream-colored roof and walls painted in basil green with potted plants littered at the front.

“Well, here we are!” Your eyes snap back to Haknyeon. He holds the same smile he first shot when he spotted you in the crowd. “How long will you be staying?”

“Around two weeks.” That’s what you hope.

“That’s good to hear! We should catch up while you’re still here.” Knowing him, this isn’t an empty request; it’s one that you must fulfill. So you nod, smiling before making your way to the door. Your hand rests on the knob; you don’t know if you should turn it.

“There’ll be a party by the community hall tomorrow.” You gaze at him. He stands afar, chest open with a gashed heart. It bears the marks of your fingertips; he still hands it to you. “Your dad is coming, and I’m sure everyone else would love to meet you.” 

It’s Haknyeon’s attempt to involve you with the community once more—to give you a reason to stay—but it won’t be enough. Melancholy fills the air. The repulsive stench clings to every corner of town—only you can smell it—and that scent accompanies your sins; they take form in the faces of those you know. You didn’t want to be face-to-face with the one person you’ve disappointed the most.

“I’ll see.” It’s a whisper, one that signifies your hesitation. You’re sure he knows what that phrase means; it never changed during your years away. But he settles for a smile, not bothering to convince you otherwise. The ball is in your courtside, and it’s your choice on what you want to do with it.

“I’ll see you, okay?”

You nod and twist the doorknob, and the bells chime as it signals your arrival. “Bye.” A final glance and grin are what you spare him before you enter the restaurant. And when you close the door behind you, you realize that it’s not only the outside that carries the stench. Within these four walls, the scent is accompanied by murky waves. Every part of this town floods you with nothing but misery.

Picture frames litter the walls; photographs of the community, the sceneries of town, and artworks from unknown artists. Some you recognize back in the days you stayed here after class but others were new. In a sea of potted plants that hang from the ceiling, incandescent bulbs glow within the expanse of green. You once remember the lack of greenery in this restaurant. But the chairs and table are the same ones from then, their wood getting discolored with age. You’re almost sure you can find your old carvings if you spend time looking for them.

Every corner of this restaurant held a piece of the past amongst the new—a part of what you’re familiar with within the abundance of the unfamiliar—but these do nothing to drive away the stench. If anything, the scent intensifies. A face mask cannot do anything to keep you from smelling it. You’re only left to suck it in and plague you with memories you’ve pushed down. 

“Gyul-ah!” Your father comes in, a grin on his face. There are more lines on his face, a sign that he has gotten older over the time you were gone, and you are glad to witness him at this age. Not many people can say they’ve seen their parent’s hair turn white and wrinkles get deeper. The sight of him is enough to twist the valves, almost turning on the waterworks, but you keep your hand firm on the knobs. Today, you weren’t going to allow yourself to cry.

But you run to him, leaving your luggage by the front door, and wrap your arms around him. You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing him in for the first time in six years, and he embraces you. He smells of baby powder, the same brand you used back when he took care of you, and you realize that he keeps parts of the past to hold pieces of you. You can only imagine how much you’ve grown since he last saw you.

You grin at him when your head finally leaves the space between his neck and shoulder. You two untangle yourselves from each other. For a moment, you let yourselves bathe in each other’s presence; it’s a miracle after all.

“You continue to grow and become more beautiful with time,” he starts, his hand reaching out to your shoulder. He draws circles, almost as if he’s trying to process your presence. “But I know the child in you still lives,” he attempts to come to terms with how he barely knows you, but you won’t disagree—not this time, at least.

“Appa, I love what you did with the place. How come you never mentioned it?”

He shakes his head, retracting his hand from you. “Ah, it’s nothing. We’re busy with our own lives, so I didn’t want to trouble you with the details.” It’s a direct strike on your heart, but it’s the truth. “But I’m glad that you’re here to see it yourself. It makes the reveal a lot more authentic.”

“Yeah.” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“I’d love to catch up, but I need to prepare and open the restaurant,” he sighs before making his way to the door, flipping the sign that once said “closed” to “open.” “My employee will be late, so I’ll need to work extra hard for the time being.”

You frown. “Late? Why?” You quickly make your way to grab the luggage and drag it to the counter where the cashier is. “Let me help out.” You didn’t give him time to share the reason. 

“No, it’s okay,” your dad’s attempt to reassure you does nothing. His gaze rests on you as he slowly approaches where you stand. “You should settle from your long journey. I’m sure the ride was exhausting.”

“Appa, I only sat in the train for a few hours, and during the ride I was asleep. I want to help.” Before he knows it, you’re already dragging your luggage to the back of the restaurant.

“At least put your things in the quarters!”

The last time you worked in your dad’s restaurant was ten years ago. Back then, you used to work with the cashier and clean dishes. But when you are left to handle all those tasks and tend to customers while your father focuses on cooking, it feels impossible. As the hand of the clock strikes 2:00 p.m., customers have made their way out of the restaurant. You can finally catch your breath.

Your dad exits the kitchen, spotting you leaning on the counter. “It’s nice to see that you still have it within you.” He doesn’t mean to mock you, you know that, but the sting of his words is still felt. Years spent in Seoul will never diminish the skills you learned from working under your father.

“How do you even manage? I mean, with you and your employee?”

He sighs. You watch him wipe the clean dishes and set them aside. “I like what I do, no matter how difficult it may be.” His gaze is affixed on you.

It strikes a chord within you. You spent six years in your old job, so indeed you must’ve enjoyed what you did, right? And yet, you stand in front of your father, a pitiful case that he’ll have to tend to once more.

You clear your throat. “Appa, you’re getting old. Don’t you want to rest?”

“No,” he chortles. “I want to keep running this restaurant until I can barely move. I’ll know when to let this place go.” He walks to the space beside you and grabs hold of your hand. The hand that changed your diapers and cooked your meals has aged. He’s spent so many years taking care of you; there’ll never be a good way to thank him for everything.

“I’ll have you stay in the old house,” he starts. Your grip on his hand grows tighter. “I’m not ready to go back there, so I’ve been sleeping here.”

A beat passes.

“Since when?”

“Six years ago.” He looks at you. “But I’ve been able to enter that house again. I just don’t sleep there. Don���t worry about the dust. My employee and I clean the place every week.” You’re not worried at all about the mess. It’s the stench that clings to the furniture, the murky water that floods the place, the spiders that crawl over the walls, the remnants of her. Those four walls only fuel your nightmares; ironically, you call them such when they’ve all been real.

So you want to tell him—no, beg him to let you stay here. You couldn’t walk into that house for it will have you relive fractions of your trauma. If you couldn’t enter that house six years ago, what difference would four years later make?

The bells chime, and your eyes land on the person who enters the restaurant. Foggy waves clash against you in full force, and the air is knocked out of your lungs. There he is, dressed in a baggy teal shirt and denim shorts. A few strands of hair hang in front of his forehead; it’s different from the old bowl-cut hair he used to have back in high school. But most of all, he’s grown up—not only out of his baby face but even in figure, aura.

A polite smile once rested on his lips. He looked ready to greet your father, almost ready to say hello to you, until he realized who stood beside his boss. The smile dissipates. Suddenly, time stills; it’s almost as if it worked under his command.

Under his gaze, you cannot help but shrink back to your 18-year-old self—the one who spent countless nights wondering what it would be like to be face-to-face with their best friend after abandoning them. And now that you’re finally in the situation you’ve spent days imagining, figuring out how to gain his trust again, you’re not sure what to say.

Jacob Bae—the home you sought out during your years growing up (he still is, no matter how hard you try to dissociate that from him). But now, he embodies your fears. The smell of tangerines is mixed with the repulsive stench—he’s turned into the house you ran away from ten years back.

Jacob’s expression shifts back to a polite smile as he looks at your father. “Abeoji, I’m sorry I’m late!” His nonchalant stride made the situation unpalatable. With every step taken towards your dad, an arrow is shot through your heart. It’s almost as if he didn’t care about what happened between you two (should he when you were the one who caused the rift?). His shoulder faces you all while he talks to your father; it’s a clear sign of what your relationship has turned into. Despite this space being one you grew up in, you’ve become an intruder. You have revoked your spot in this restaurant, this town.

“Don’t worry about it,” your dad says as he grips Jacob’s shoulder. “I hope all went well in the community center.”

Jacob smiles at him, and says, “Yeah, we got it settled. We’re just finalizing things for tomorrow.”

Your father hums as he glances at you. “Why don’t you bring back Y/N?” Your eyebrows shoot up. “They’ll need help getting settled in.” You shake your head at him, but he refuses to acknowledge your silent protest.

“Appa, I’m sure you’ll need him here,” you chuckle as your eyes glance to the back of Jacob’s head. “I can figure it out. I’ve lived there anyway; 18 years long, to be specific.” Jacob’s going to say no; you expect it. And yet…

“Okay.” 

Your eyes widen. He proves you wrong—you don’t know him after all.

“Alright! Go get your stuff Gyul-ah,” your dad says as he wraps his arm around Jacob’s shoulders. And for once, Jacob looks at you. You cannot pinpoint the emotion across his features.

You nod at your father’s words and make your way to the back of the restaurant. Your heartbeat rings in your ears. Years spent imagining what to say to Jacob didn’t prepare you enough to face the actual situation. Once you gather your things, you leave the sleeping quarters. Your dad’s chortle bounces off the four walls, probably from a joke he made. And then you catch a glimpse of Jacob’s smile; it’s still sweet as you remember it. You’re suddenly back to your 17-year-old self.

Then, his eyes land on you. The smile vanishes. He stares right at you (you mean really stares at you, a long one for the matter) for the first time since he arrived. So you clear your throat, hoping that he will be the first one to break eye contact—he doesn’t. Your dad spins to face you. “Ah! Okay, I’ll see you.” You watch Jacob nod all while he keeps his gaze fixed on you.

For once, you let your ego take the hit; you avert your eyes and make your way to the door. You two leave, and Jacob doesn’t give you a moment to think. He grabs your luggage from you and finds his spot beside you. And you were going to comment—I can handle it myself—but he keeps his eyes forward; you decide to do the same.

Instead of walking on the dirt trail path, you’re walking on eggshells. You’re not sure what to say to clear the silence. Unbeknownst to you, he can sense your awkward nature. Hands fiddling with the strap of your shoulder bag and gaze fixed on their feet; your antics remain the same after all these years.

“How long will you be staying?” Your eyes snap up only to see him continue to look at the path.

You clear your throat, afraid your voice might crack. “Two weeks.” He only hums. You two fall back into silence.

It’s weird to think about it; the same guy who you once treated as your best friend since childhood—the same one whom you’ve poured your heart to—is now someone you barely know. You grew up with him and stuck with him from your elementary days until your high school ones. Ten years apart can change so much between those who once swore to stay in each other’s lives.

You two finally arrive in front of the old house, your old house. Everything is in shape; the windows are crystal clear and the paint is intact. It’s just like how you first left it. A storm brews within you; you despise it. After all these years, you still can’t escape the horrors of this house.

“Here,” Jacob says and raises the keys. You open your hand, allowing him to drop it into your palm. “Your boxes are inside, they arrived a few days ago. I also cleaned out the place.” You only nod. He glances at the luggage he holds and asks, “Do you need help settling in?” You shake your head which has him nodding. He hands you your luggage. “Okay.” You take it from him.

Before you know it, he turns away from you. He only takes a few steps but it feels like he’s gone distances away from you. And you’re afraid you’ll let him slip away like last time.

“Cobie!” It’s the first time you’ve said that nickname since you last saw him. He freezes. You’re not even sure if you had the right to call him that. He looks back at you, and his furrowed eyebrows say enough. “Sorry, I meant,” you close your eyes for a moment. “It slipped.” It’s an honest mistake, but you’re sure he’s not pleased by it.

He turns back to you, walking until he stands directly in front of you. He doesn’t say anything, only looking at you with the same expression. “Do you want to come in?” His expression falters.  “Maybe just to catch up.” It’s a small step but still one to begin with. Maybe you’ll figure out what to say to him within those four walls for they have you at your most vulnerable state; it’s the doing of the ghost that haunts the building.

The Jacob you knew would hear you out after all these years. He’d be defensive but still accept the offer. Cobie—no, Jacob always found comfort in answers, closure. And yet….

“No,” he answers. Your eyebrows jump in shock, and he notices. “I’d prefer not to. Good luck with unpacking.” And before you know it, he takes his leave. You watch his figure become smaller with every step he takes. He’s slipping away from your fingertips; there’s nothing you can do for he would only free himself from your grasp.

The waves are strong enough to tip your balance—you do everything to stand on your own feet. The image of Jacob you drew on the sand has been washed off. It’s your fault for drawing it too close to the shore. 

Autumn makes its way here; the scent of rotting leaves, bruised fruits that fall from trees, and the breeze that hits your cheeks. You stand under a tree whose branches are perched with twig nests. They hold flocks of birds, ready to keep themselves warm during the season. The birds huddle up and chirp away tunes—they remind you of what you don’t have.

Then, a swingset creaks, and you are snapped out of your trance. A few meters away from you is a playground, one you don’t get to play in as much as you’d like, and in the middle of it a boy who looks down to the floor. He grips the rope with his blue sweater hands but doesn’t bother to swing.

With nowhere to go, your feet bring you to him. He pays no attention to you for he doesn’t notice you. But suddenly, he hears the rustling from the swing beside him. And when his eyes drift upwards, he finds you, seated and eyes trained on him. It’s surreal to him; to be graced by the talk amongst his classmates, the kid whose father runs a staple within the town. He doesn’t know what to say, but you don’t allow him to worry.

“Does your mom go to school like you?” He’s perplexed by your question. How did you know of him and his mother? “I see you two going to school together, always thirty minutes before classes start.”

He nods. “Yeah,” his voice is shaky. “She’s a teacher.”

“That’s cool!” Interest is evident in your tone. You move the swing side-to-side, going against the direction it typically goes. “Do you like her there?” Your eyes remain on him, and heat rises to his cheeks. He’s already shy, to begin with, and your stare only has his heart running. 

And he would’ve settled with nonverbal responses, either shaking or nodding his head, but he’s not sure what compels him to answer. “I do,” he whispers, a shy smile on his face. He looks away from you, afraid to look back at you. “I like seeing her.”

He hears you hum for a moment. Then, silence settles between you two.

He thinks he should say more. Maybe he should tell you of all the trips his mom would take to the faculty’s cafeteria whose food is to die for. But when he glances at you, he sees your hands preoccupied with peeling a fruit—a tangerine. Stubby, nimble fingers peel the rind off, exposing its orange-colored flesh covered in strings of white. “I wish I could say the same.” A sigh follows with a bittersweet smile.

He watches you tear a piece, and suddenly, your eyes meet his. You raise it to him, the bittersweet smile now replaced with a genuine one, and say, “Have one.” His eyes dart back and forth between you and the flesh you hold in between your fingers, and you can’t help but giggle. “There’s nothing to be scared of.” And when he sees your smile—feels the warmth you emit in the middle of autumn—all worries slip away.

He grabs the tangerine slice and eats it. With just one bite, the juice bursts in his mouth; the citrus taste coats his tongue. A grin is on his face as he chews away.

“Eomma taught me how to peel tangerines,” you start. “She says I’m getting old, and that I should learn how to do it myself.” He looks at you only to see your eyes staring off to nowhere. How can you be old when you’re only ten years old? He didn’t even know how to peel fruits himself. 

“But it’s okay. Not a lot of kids knew how to peel tangerines.” It’s almost as if you could hear his thoughts; he didn’t know if he should be petrified or amazed. Such a difficult task and you knew how to do it—perhaps his mom didn’t teach him how to do it so that he could meet you. 

Before you know it, a woman grabs onto your arm. Your eyes snap towards her. “What did I tell you about walking off?!” Her tone is harsh. He doesn’t know what to say.

You are pulled to stand up. As the woman drags you away, you glance at him. “I’ll see you in school, Cobie!” He never told you his name, and yet, you found the perfect nickname for him. As your mom tugs you away from him, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Perhaps autumn brought you what you needed the most.

Ever since Jacob denied your offer, you weren’t sure how to act around him. He worked in your dad’s restaurant, and you offered to help them prepare for the party. It’s awkward, that’s for sure, and your dad could notice it (though he never bothered to comment). But you watch him all the way from the other side of the communal area, observing how he talks to an unfamiliar face.

“How are you enjoying your vacation?” Your eyes dart to where your father is. You’re sure he saw you looking at Jacob, but you can only hope he won’t bring it up.

You sigh as you carry a steel tray filled with kimchi. “Boring, really.” He only shows you an apologetic smile. “I like to work, you know me..”

He hums. “You know, it’s important to take time to rest.” You bite the inside of your cheek as you set the tray down on the table. “I’d be happy if you choose to stay.” To your father, it seemed like you being on leave (or you guess unemployed) would be the only way to have you stay here. You don’t blame him for wanting to try for you know it comes from a place of love, concern, yearning. But even ten years later, you still cannot find a reason to stay here.

“Appa,” you turn to face him. The apologetic smile is now replaced with pleading eyes—it’s hope. “I don’t like not doing anything, you of all people know that.” You’re a motor, one that needs to remain on, and feels the urge to always be on the go. Call it being a workaholic, you couldn’t stand the idea of not doing anything related to work.

And before your father can say anymore, a booming voice sounds throughout the venue. “Jacob! Sangyeon!” Your eyes snap to see Haknyeon hugging the two. Before you know it, his eyes settle on you. “And Y/N!” He rushes to you with a grin on his face. “You decided to show up after all!”

“Well, I want to help Appa out,” you chuckle.

“Abeoji, let me help, too!” Despite what your father says, Haknyeon walks off to grab some more trays.

Your dad sighs. “Haknyeon, always the one helping out.” A grin rests on your lips. He’s still the same boy you know after all. At least some things remain the same.

Before you know it, night comes, and the venue is filled with more residents. Most of them knew each other, talking amongst themselves as they filled their stomachs with food your dad made; it was a sight to behold. But most of all, you can remember the expression on some of their faces when they recognized who you were.

“It’s been forever!”

“You’ve grown up well! What do you do now?”

“You’re back? Since when?”

Admittedly, most of them weren’t expecting your return. You couldn’t disagree with them; you thought the same as well. After all, you moved all your things to Seoul. Still, the people who saw you grow up here were happy to see that you’ve come back, even if it may be for a few weeks (that’s if you find a job in time). But even in a sea of familiar faces, you feel out of place. Ten years spent refusing to contact any of them; it’s only expected that your absence would have you as the odd one out.

And you thought you would be okay with it, for you know that you’ll be going back to Seoul anyway. It’s okay if you’ve lost a home in this town for there was none to begin with anyway—no, there was. It would be wrong to say that there’s no trace of home here when the one person who provided you with that for eight years stands on the other side of the venue. He talks to Haknyeon, Sangyeon, and other faces you didn’t know the names of. The smile plastered on his face is one you haven’t received in a long time.

The waves crash against you; they tip your balance and drag your body into the unknown waters. And suddenly, the murky liquid fills your lungs. The bulbs that hang above you become streaks of yellow, and the ringing in your ears tunes out the music and chatter of residents. And before you know it, your feet are taking you elsewhere—anywhere—so long as it’s far from here.

You’re not sure how long you’ve spent walking, or what path you took. All you know is that you’re back here at the playground—the same one you first met Jacob. You find yourself seated on the same swing; it’s definitely smaller but you make it work. The thumping of your heart is all you can hear, and your eyes shut close. A shaky breath leaves you.

Swing. Chain. Steel. Tray. Silver. Jewelry. Sapphire. Blue. Water. Sand. Sun. Warmth. Home— Jacob, Jacob, Jacob. It always goes back to him. Your eyes peel open and they settle on the red slide a few meters away from you.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Slide. Red. Plastic. Short.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. You repeat the action.

The palpitations start to subside, and you can hear your breath become steady. Your brain is exhausted. Today, the waves were stronger—you can only hope the current dies down.

“Why are you here?” Your heart jumps at the sudden voice. As you look at where it comes from, you see Jacob whose hands are tucked in his pockets. His expression is laced with some emotion—you can’t pinpoint it. 

With his eyes staring back at yours, you can’t help but feel the need to spill it all out—fears, worries, the ugly truth about you. Maybe it’s the effects of your recent attack that have you in your most vulnerable state, but all you know is that you would do anything to go back to the way things used to be. All you want is to find that piece of home in this godforsaken town.

But your silence is enough to make a frown appear on his eyebrows, and you remember that this isn’t the Jacob you first knew. In front of you is a distant one—the realistic version of the house you’ve run away from—and you’re snapped back to your hardened state.

“I didn’t know we were talking.” The tone is harsh; the venom laced with your words shocks you. You notice how Jacob flinches at your response, and you wish you could take it back—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that—but he doesn’t allow you to talk.

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone.” He tongues the inside of his cheek. “I don’t even know why I bothered following you here,” he mumbles; it strikes a chord within you, and you stand up.

“What’s with you? Why do you suddenly have this attitude with me?” Your frown gets deeper with every question you throw at him. Jacob used to struggle with his anger issues, you know that, but he found ways to resolve it around middle school. Jacob, who used to have a short fuse, turned into one who knew how to control his patience; it seemed like he lost that control over your years away. The boy in front of you almost seems like the version you first knew all while being one you had no clue—a living oxymoron. “I mean, what did I do to deserve this?”

With that one question, something in him snaps. The frown gets deeper, and his hands leave his pockets. “Are you seriously asking me that?” He crosses his arms. “How do you expect me to talk to you after what you did? To someone who just got up and left?” Your face starts to relax, and you only stare at him—the one boy you’ve upset and disappointed the most.

“Y/N, you left with no message!” His hand reaches out to his face, covering his mouth for a moment as he looks away. “You didn’t even bother to keep in touch! How can you change your number right after leaving?” His eyes meet yours; they’re filled with anger, frustration, regret. “I can’t believe you would throw years of friendship away.”

Thunder sounds within you. “Jacob, you of all people know why I left,” you scoff. “Don’t make this about you. I had every reason to leave and you know it, so don’t try to turn this whole situation about you.”

An exasperated sigh leaves him. “You can’t just come back here, ten years later, and expect me to be okay! I have every right to be upset by your disappearance.” He clenches his teeth. “You didn’t even say goodbye!”

“I didn’t have the choice—”

“No, you always have the choice. Don’t try to play that card with me right now.”

Lightning strikes within you; it rumbles and shakes the ground. The river moves at a rapid speed, enough to leave bruises if you were to dip your feet into it. And the fire within you continues to grow, causing everything to erupt into flames. It didn’t matter if Jacob was right or wrong—all you know is that you’re upset with him.

“Fine. If you don’t want to talk to me without being pissy about it, then let’s not talk. I’m going home.” His angered expression falters. “Handle the party yourself.” Before he knows it, you take your leave. It’s possibly the worst thing you could do. You knew they were low on manpower, but you could care less about anyone, about him, for the matter.

With your back turned towards him, you walk to the house you were forced to stay in. And with every step, the sea level rises. The walk back is a tough journey; every step in high levels of water makes it difficult. And when you stand in front of the building that reeks of a scent only you can smell, you wish the water would fill your lungs and submerge your body—it’ll take you away from this place, after all. In this town, not a single trace of home exists.

#MY HEART IS SO BROKEN...... #this is so beautiful.... waiting ready seated tuned in for the rest of the series #i can tell this fic will haunt me (in a good way) for years to come... #leaving home. coming home. oh the complex feelings i know too well

[spookyunwon]

Jumpspace Renegade Series Masterlist 🚀✨

[Info/Intro Post]

Season One

[Episode 1] - Reader escapes her dreary and repetitive life. Which ship will she choose to stow away in?

[Episode 2] - Reader makes what appears to be a smart decision, but accidentally ends up in a precarious situation. Who is this crew, and are they going to protect her?

[Episode 3] - Keeping quiet while in the brig with the crew's captured bounty, Reader learns some valuable information before she gets a chance to explore the ship. Who will she choose to spend time with first? [Episode 4] - Reader goes with the ship's mechanic, Changbin, to go check out her temporary accommodations. However, something suspicious comes up. Who's the likely culprit? [Episode 5] - Someone has stolen from Reader. Minho's too obvious and Chan doesn't seem that likely... right? So it has to be Jisung, then... right? Reader confronts him to find out. [Episode 6] - It's not Jisung, but another, somehow even more pressing issue comes up. Can Reader deal with Chan's antics before she gets deserted or thrown in the brig? [Episode 7] - Things are getting heated onboard when Minho is causing havoc now that he's escaped. Reader has a plan, but will anyone listen to her? [Episode 8] - Everything finally manages to calm down for a minute on board the Ambler. Minho is back in the brig, the ship isn't on the fritz... so what has Reader so on edge? And the gunfire on board? That's a whole other story.

Season Two

[Episode 9] - Reader takes a trip to the Phaborian surface with Felix and Hyunjin, but things go south quick thanks to a reckless punishment Chan decided to provide after exposing Reader's dirty little secret to the whole crew... including the one person she'd prefer didn't know.

[Episode 10] - Reader gets Felix back to the ship in one piece, but the collective effort to help him dredges up some interesting developments before she realizes she's forgotten something important. [Episode 11] - Reader sets out on an unexpected rescue mission when Minho strikes a deal with Chan. We might know where Hyunjin is, but where is Jisung? [Episode 12] - Jisung is a prick. Allegedly. Reader has the opportunity to find out why, but it's a little too tempting to catch a break for a second. [Episode 13] - Returning to life on board the Ambler means returning to chaos. Reader debriefs with Minho, catches up with Seungmin, and stands off against Chan once again. Will she form a new alliance? [Episode 14] - Reader finally catches up with Felix, makes a deal with Jisung, and might need a cold shower of her own when it comes to Chan. [Episode 15] - So the Reader decides to humor Chan and spend the night, but there's no way she's expecting everything she's about to learn. Will she ever get a good night's sleep? [Episode 16] - Reader needs to regroup before the Ambler lands at Sentury Station. Will she get what's she's looking for when she finally reaches out to Seungmin? [Episode 17] - Reader has to adapt fast if she wants to cover any ground at Sentury, especially when she gets a chance to make sure she has access to someone at her choosing at all times.

[spookyunwon]

˗ˏˋ nonsense ´ˎ˗

┊͙ SYNOPSiS it’s way too much of an overexaggeration to say you’re good at this job — but then, why else would jacob be playing favourites this much? it’s obviously not because of his raging crush on you, that’s for sure! at this point, your coworkers have decided to put a stop to all this nonsense.

┊͙ WARNiNGS misogyny (!!!!!!!!!!!!!), this chapter is much worse than the original cool it! chapter, jonas brothers mention, y/n has a breakdown, um i think that's it

TWENTY sing for me MASTERLiST ⋆ PREViOUS ⋆ NEXT

┊͙AUTHOR’S NOTE i am so sorry for this chapter i like blacked out while writing this and fawn called me extremely crazy writing this

┊͙TAGLiST @jaerisdiction @kyusqult @pagesofmiracles @sungbeam @yeonjunszn @exfolitae @matchaoreocrepes @odxrilove @planethyuka @astrae4 @wonuulvr @kaaimins @n0-thisispatrick @zhaixiaowen

taglist is closed! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

#SHRUY Y TUP. I CAN IMAGIN3 E JACOB COVERING LOVEBUG OHHHH HE WOULD BE SO GOOD FOR THAT SONG OHHH #its all i want now. thansk

[spookyunwon]

˗ˏˋ nonsense ´ˎ˗

┊͙ SYNOPSiS it’s way too much of an overexaggeration to say you’re good at this job — but then, why else would jacob be playing favourites this much? it’s obviously not because of his raging crush on you, that’s for sure! at this point, your coworkers have decided to put a stop to all this nonsense.

┊͙ WARNiNGS mentions urethra meme, use of a prayer circle, there is a nicki minaj cameo in this chapter

THREE call me einstein MASTERLiST ⋆ PREViOUS ⋆ NEXT

┊͙AUTHOR’S NOTE rest in piece hyunjae 💔

┊͙TAGLiST @jaerisdiction @kyusqult @pagesofmiracles @sungbeam

taglist is open! send an ask to be added ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

#A GROCERY STORE AU UHHHHHH THIS WAS MADE FOR ME????? #god yes let me romanticize the hell out of a grocery store instead of remembering all the trauma it brought me 😭🙏 #anyway love this au very much i feel so connected and mayhaps my parasocial delusions for mr bae are off the charts rn 🫢 #hwjtjqkrjqksj #but ya prayer circle sunwoo was RIGHT and he shouldnt be silenced!!!!!!!

[spookyunwon]

Sparkle- Kim Sunwoo

Genre: Angst, fluff, royal!au, princess!y/n

Word Count:15.5k

Inspired by. that one vlive where Sunwoo learns the word ticklish <3

a/n happy birthday to the brightest Sun in the entire world, Kim Sunwoo. your eyes truly do sparkle. 

Keep reading

#SOBBFBGING CRYUIN G G I KOVE THOS FIC OH SUNWOO IN A ROYAL AU IS SO GOOD

[spookyunwon]

pussy blocked.

Y/N’s unofficial guide on how to be a heartbreaker:

1. have fun. 2. never stay the night. 3. always be the first one to leave. 4. never hook up with the same person twice. 5. don’t fall in love with boys like lee jeno.

pairing :: lee jeno x reader genre :: angst, comedy, fluff ⋮ fuckboy/girl + college au word count :: 31,360 words warnings :: y/n has a breakdown at one point, dick jokes, sexual innuendos, implied sex but it’s like a romcom movie where we skip to the morning after because i don’t write about places where the sun doesn’t shine, and of course it’s not a luvdsc fic without a whole bunch of mutual pining playlist :: break my heart (hey violet) ⋆ lowkey (niki) ⋆ pancakes (lany) ⋆ i left a party for you (pilar victoria) ⋆ blurry (jp saxe) ⋆ slow (shy martin) ⋆ we’re fucked, it’s fine (jeremy zucker) ⋆ happiness (taylor swift) ⋆ this is how you fall in love (jeremy zucker & chelsea cutler) + extended playlist here. author’s note :: this is me putting my biggest fears on blast :’) ty to ti @m88n, steph @aqiaquas, tk god @eggyukhei, and lana @choerrypuffs for being my biggest cheerleaders !!! and especially to @wincore​ thank you for listening to all my incoherent ramblings and ideas and accepting it all within an hour of us starting to talk LOL ily moon ♡

i. the devil wears leather jackets.

“Thoughts on leather jackets?”

Yeeun hoists herself onto the scratched counter of the tiny bathroom, cheap neon strips of flashing lights pasted around the edges of the ceiling and the booming bass of the music barely muffled by the closed door. She swings her legs, the heels of her boots banging lightly against the cabinet beneath her.

“They’re cute. Why? Don’t you already have like, three of them?” Your fingers curl around the lip gloss your best friend offers to you. You thank her before you lean forward, uncapping the makeup and spreading an even, glossy coat over your lips.

“Not on me!” She taps her manicured fingers against her thigh rhythmically. “Actually, maybe on me. There’s a really good sale going on at Madewell right now. Maybe I’ll get one.”

“Another night of drunk retail therapy?” You pucker your lips, angling your face slightly to check that you had applied enough of the shimmery gloss. You quickly adjust the satin white crop top you have on that makes your boobs look phenomenal. Perfect. It’s the first party of your final year at university, and you would very much like to start it off with a bang and leave with a cute guy tonight.

“Sober me will thank me tomorrow.” She waves her hand dismissively before taking back the gloss from you and shoving it unceremoniously into her bra (because one hand holding a purse means one less hand holding a drink) before pushing herself off from her counter perch. “Anyway, you’re missing the point! What do you think of boys in leather jackets?”

You narrow your eyes at her, scrutinizing her fidgeting figure through the mirror. “Alright, spill it. Who’s this about?”

“I overheard Mark telling Yukhei that Jeno was asking about you.”

You temporarily pause in place, horror flashbacks already playing like a montage at the mention of him, before facing your friend, who’s already looking at you expectantly. “Did he say why?”

“Who knows? He started throwing up on Yukhei’s shoes, so I had to move away from the target zone.”

You wince at that. Poor Mark was always a lightweight and yet, he always accepts whatever drink Donghyuck hands him. And the latter always mixes concoctions with cheap vodka making up at least 40% of the contents.

“Isn’t this exciting though? The Lee Jeno is interested in you,” she squeals, grabbing onto your arm excitedly.

“I’ve been there. Freshman year, two minutes and beard burn. Literally, the worst experience of my life. Zero out of ten, no stars on Yelp, would swipe left on Tinder, maybe even report him to save other people from the horror.”

Keep reading

#watched an ep of nevertheless and instead of hurting myself with another ep im rereading pussy blocked instead #lets see if i have grown in the past few years and will really truly understand why she picks jaemin #if i root for jaemin this time. if i stop wanting things to work out with her and jeno. please god tell me i've changed

[spookyunwon]

no tbh i picked changbin too but mostly because im NOSEY and i need to know what his deal is!!!!!!!!!! also idk if im just an idiot but did anyone else think the reader was dating changbin at first or—

#ALSO ILL RB THE FIC WITH MY THOUGHTS SOON I DID READ IT AND IT WAS SOOOOOO GOOD IM HOOKED

[spookyunwon]

Jae's Fic Recommendations Pt.3

You already know the drill by now! This just me fanning over some amazing writers and wanted to share their works with the world! I seriously love showing off other peoples stuff cause all of you deserve all the love and hype for your works! Enjoy ♡

-

7:25pm [By @chijhs ♡]

2am [By @shsan ♡]

C*ckwarming [By @ateezreactionsandscenarios ♡]

Brother's Besfriend Pt.1 [By @tinybinnie ♡]

Brothers Besfriend Pt.2 [By @tinybinnie ♡]

Brothers Bestfriend Pt.3 [By @tinybinnie ♡]

Car s*x [By @ateezreactionsandscenarios ♡]

Dirty Little Secret pt.1 [By @hwa-whiskers ♡]

Next Stop [By @ttalgiwooyu ♡]

Unexpected Company Pt.1 [By @mia-tiny ♡]

Unexpected Company Pt.2 [By @mia-tiny ♡]

Unexpected Company Pt.3 [By @mia-tiny ♡]

Unexpected Company Pt.4 [By @mia-tiny ♡]

Orgasm Control [By @ateezreactionsandscenarios ♡]

Birthday Cake [By @aegyus-world ♡]

Hide And Seek [By @toxicccred ♡]

Little Thing [By @star-1117 ♡]

Birthday Present [By @dreams-of-yunho ♡]

Day Dreaming Pt.1 [By @fallinwoozi ♡]

Day Dreaming Pt.2 [By @fallinwoozi ♡]

Prove You Wrong [By @star-1117 ♡]

Getting A Little Closer [By @oceanlix ♡]

Unholy Tiktok [By @sluttywonwoo ♡]

Daddy!January [by @whatudowhennooneseesyou ♡]

Better Than Me [By @yoongimingyu ♡]

Don't You Want Me? [By @yeonjuns-beanie ♡]

Early Mornings [By @hoonieversed ♡]

13:00 [By @kwanis ♡]

-

Until next time my pretty babies. Now go off and read all these amazing works made by these amazing people ♡♡

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Tag list : Now In The Comment Section

[spookyunwon]

Jae's Fanfic Recommendation Pt.2

I'm back again with more recommends and all these fics are so good! I seriously love showing off other peoples stuff cause all of you deserve all the love and hype for your works! Enjoy my loves♡

-

Addict [By @heterotragedies ♡]

Nothing On Me [By @riboism ♡]

Summer Nights [By @honeyhotteoks ♡]

Summers end [By @honeyhotteoks ♡]

Double Penetration [By @yunhoflrtz ♡]

Hello Stranger [By @midnightseonghwa ♡]

If Without You [By @midnightseonghwa ♡]

Shine Together [By @midnightseonghwa ♡]

Three AM [By @abiaswreck ♡]

8:25 [By @riboism ♡]

8:25 Pt.2 [By @riboism ♡]

Lipstick Love [By @emeraldelysian ♡]

Maybe this time [By @mingkiyoo ♡]

In The Quiet Spaces [By @honeyhotteoks ♡]

First Kiss With Seonghwa [By @ateez-imagines ♡]

Arranged Marriage [By @latte-fairytaekwoon ♡]

(Day)Dream [By @pirateprincessblog ♡]

23:32 [By @seongyeonsart ♡]

Roommates [By @essenteez ♡]

All on your tongue [By @ttalgiwooyu ♡]

Star1117 [By @star1117-archives ♡]

Make you feel better [By @hongthoven ♡]

Up To Something [By @theyungihven ♡]

Lazy Morning [By @hongthoven ♡]

-

That's it for now! Damn look at all these amazing fics!! Argh you all are such amazing writers! Knowing me I'll make another on of these again cause I read a lot and the ones that really capture my heart, definitely deserve the hype! ♡♡

Make sure to check out my stuff too hehe ♡

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Taglist : @yunhofingers @seungkwan-s @violetwinters @kpopmademygradesgodown @lmhmh01 @strangertides @purrhwa @joti17 @jess-1404 @pinki-minki @glossyeon @yesv01 @minkiflwr @seonghwarizon @rielleluvs @dilfjohhny @whatudowhennooneseesyou   @az-con @jen176pink @sundaybossanova @8tinytings @zeesondiary

[spookyunwon]

No Gods Nor Kings - Pt. 1

[8.6k words/30min. Read - King!Chan x Female Reader - SFW/✨Mildly Spicy✨/Very Suggestive - Radical Patriarchs, Weird Work Dynamics, Complicated Situationships, Making Out, Lipstick, Jealousy, Arguments, Changbin is Acting Weird, Jisung is Being a Dick]

Prologue | Come Say Hi

Changbin was staring at your stockings. 

Everyone seemed to be staring lately, actually. 

Starting the morning of the riots at the stock exchange, Jisung had been staring at you when he thought you wouldn't notice, just like he used to when you first started dating. For the past handful of days at work, Changbin’s gaze lingered before he got your attention – every single time. And beginning with the emergency Assembly Changbin called the other day, up until the meeting this afternoon, Chan’s eyes were locked on you whenever he wasn't drowning in paperwork. 

Now Changbin was staring at your stockings, which was even more baffling. The extended glances could really just be innocent or a figment of your imagination, but this time you knew exactly what was going on.

And you knew why. It only took you five days to turn your life completely upside down, beginning from the first time you’d been alone with the King. 

Today was day five.

Changbin was chewing on his pen, staring at the runs in your usually pristine stockings. A few snags in the nylon as low as your ankle and one disappearing up under your dress. The realization made your whole body heat up, and you quickly excused yourself to go run off to the washroom.

- Day 2 -

This really all started after Chan crowded you in his office that day of the stock exchange riots. It was right after the Council meeting the following afternoon, after all the cameras had cleared out. Cameras weren’t permitted into Council meetings while they were in session, but exceptions were made in the minutes directly proceeding if there were any announcements to make to the press. This time, however, the latest developments weren't the concern of the reporters. 

They were obsessed with Chan being in attendance. 

A hushed commotion surged through the gathered legislators as Chan’s security detail entered the Assembly chamber. Chan’s late father never attended these meetings himself, instead opting to send delegates in the interest of personal safety and maintaining distance. Chan’s late father conducted meetings like this, as did his father, and his father, and so on. 

But Chan showed up, and the entire Assembly were beside themselves. 

Changbin had gone rigid beside you. 

“Sir – Changbin – what is it?” you worriedly asked, your voice hushed.

“The camera hounds are going to love this,” Changbin grumbled.

He was right. Some legislators posted surreptitious pictures snapped of the young Royal in attendance with his bevy of security, some in rousing support and some admonishing such casual mingling with government, and the country was in bedlam yet again. 

But while Changbin listened to queries and fielded debates, you were miserably distracted by Chan’s own preoccupation with your presence. He was still just as stubbornly dashing out among the people. A modern King wouldn't wear a crown in public, obviously, but Chan wouldn't even wear his sash that was traditionally worn out for such meetings. The fact that everyone was staring at Chan while he was staring at you was almost overwhelming. 

Here, now, on day five, you wondered how long you could hide out in the bathroom. You dug around in your bag to pull out your emergency pair of nylons. They looked similar enough but were definitely different. Still, you were bogged down with the timeline of events that got you here.

So much attention from the young King made you feel so embarrassingly, nearly light-headed, so much so that you weren't prepared for Jisung when you had gotten home the night of day two. 

You were at your dresser, stepping out of your heels when Jisung simply hugged you from behind. Even this startled you, considering the last time Jisung touched you was to ask you to move out of his way when you were admittedly badgering him about his work. 

Jisung’s arms had slid softly around your waist, his lips brushing the chain holding his pendant around your neck, and he was so gentle that you almost buckled at the knees. 

“I caught you in Assembly today,” he murmured against your skin, “I was watching public broadcasting with some friends and I actually saw you.”

“Since when do you watch Assembly?” you smirked, even while you were breathless with Jisung’s hands sliding back to play with the zipper of your dress. 

“I miss you,” Jisung sighed, ignoring your question. 

You turned in your boyfriend's arms to pull him close, but you were surprised to see a bandage carefully applied to his brow. 

“Jisung,” you sucked in a worried gasp, “what the hell happened to you?”

“It’s fine, it’s nothing,” he quickly soothed you, “it’s–”

“It’s clearly something,” you stiffly insisted. 

“I’m fine, me and the guys were out–”

“Out? You just said you were watching public access.”

“Quit interrupting,” Jisung complained, “we were today, but yesterday–”

“Yesterday? What could you possibly have been doing–”

You stopped yourself, quickly getting a bad idea of what exactly Jisung could've been doing.

“Go on,” Jisung snidely encouraged, “make your accusations.”

There had been no more surprises when you slipped out from between Jisung and your dresser. Instead, you stared each other down, waiting for the other to yield. 

“Well?” your boyfriend had taunted.

You stiffly glowered. “You were at the stock exchange riots.”

Jisung clapped sarcastically. “Great job.”

“I can’t believe this!” you snapped. “You know how dangerous it was out there!”

“Like that matters?!” Jisung blustered. “Your new fearless leader is going to drive us all to the poor house!”

“You say that as if you have any stake in that whatsoever!” you barked back. 

Jisung focused an icy glare at you as you both caught your breath.

“Well?” you meanly prompted. “How long has it been since you’ve worked?”

“I work!” Jisung had growled at you. 

“Right,” you nodded exaggeratedly, “you freelance but you really work once a month and can barely buy our groceries while I’m working overtime just to pay our bills.”

Your boyfriend had been slack jawed and you couldn’t blame him. It was hard to believe you’d actually, finally said it out loud.

“Why are you being like this?!” he ultimately demanded.

You held your ground. “Because you haven’t always been like this. You work, but not like you used to, and meanwhile I’m working myself to the bone.”

“I work,” Jisung gritted out, “and I’m not selling myself to royals or the Assembly to do it.”

This sucked. 

This was bullshit.

You were on the verge of furious and heartbroken tears, but Jisung seemed to be, too. When you had finished staring each other down for a few painful seconds, Jisung was the first to break. He turned away and immediately grabbed his gym bag from the floor beside the dresser.

“... What are you doing?” you pathetically, quietly asked. You already knew. This had been a long time coming.

“I’m staying at a friend’s tonight,” Jisung shook his head. “And I think we’re finally taking that break we’ve been talking about.”

- Day 3 -

Back in day five, you were still in the stupid washroom. The emergency nylons looked ridiculous, but you knew you were overthinking it. No one would notice.

Even though Changbin was all about details.

He would notice.

He’d been dissecting you with his eyes since you shared coffee on the morning of day two. So he would notice. Just more reasons you were trying to fight back tears in the lavish washroom now. You were fighting off a splitting headache.

Jisung left on day one, and everything only got worse on day two, when you attended the next Assembly meeting. Chan had been staring at you every spare moment he got, and then the worst thing you knew would happen ended up coming right your way.

“Come on, then,” Changbin had beckoned you after Assembly. “Are you coming with me or are you taking a short lunch?”

“Er,” you floundered, caught regretfully off-guard. “What’s next?”

“We have a meeting back at the palace?” Changbin had impatiently reminded you. “We have to hash out some addendums his Highness had about the proposals you brought him.”

“Oh,” you nodded absently, “of course. I’m right behind you.”

You had followed Changbin out of Assembly and into the armored car. The ride had been painfully quiet. Changbin was clearly annoyed, and you were still a bit put off by having been effectively dumped the night before. The trip to the palace was familiar, having just done it the other day.

Minho hadn’t been there to greet the car on day two, so this meant the palace had returned to business as usual. Instead, he was waiting for you in front of Chan’s office.

“Chancellor,” Minho greeted with a bow of his head before nodding to you. “Miss.” 

You curtsied in return. Unexpectedly, however, you and the Chancellor were stopped in your tracks before entering the King’s office. Minho instead directed you to a couple security officers with metal detectors. 

“You’re not serious,” you graciously protested. With how Changbin tensed beside you, you had clearly voiced his thoughts. If you’d brought his bodyguard, Hyunjin, inside with you, it would've surely been a full argument. 

Minho helplessly shrugged. “With the state of affairs out there we can’t be too careful.”

“Ridiculous,” Changbin had huffed with a shake of his head. The officers were much more lenient with him, but they had been ruthlessly thorough with you. They checked under your coat, your cardigan, the hem of your skirt, inside your shoes. You were patted down, scanned, and picked over while Changbin and Minho watched. Even airports weren’t this grueling.

Suddenly, as they were about to rifle through your briefcase, a saving grace came.

Chan had poked his head out the door of his office.

“What on earth is taking so long– Minho? What are our guests doing being swept like this?”

Minho had babbled for a moment. “Emergency security measures, Sir,” he hastily explained. “The ones you signed in this morning?”

“Nonsense, that shouldn’t have to apply to Assembly members,” Chan firmly shook his head. “And definitely not the Chancellor. Come on, let’s get to business.”

You hurriedly bundled yourself back up to scamper into the apparent safety of Chan’s office, but even that didn’t last long. Minho came to gather yours and Changbin's coats, which you were grateful for. You recalled adjusting your cardigan before you noticed Chan resuming his staring again. Heat had rushed through your cheeks and this kept up for the entire meeting. You weren’t capable of thinking straight for the half-hour or however long discussion. Instead, your mind had been on Jisung, on how crazy everything got for you in just a short amount of time. 

In fact, you’d barely noticed the meeting was done until Chan got up from his desk. You and Changbin arose as well. 

“Glad that all got sorted out,” Chan clasped his hands together before offering his right to Changbin, who professionally shook it. “Now, Mr. Chancellor, if you don’t mind, my security lead wants to have a word with you and make sure you have everything you need.”

That was weird, you remembered thinking. Wouldn’t Felix, Chan's head of security, have just gotten in touch with Hyunjin directly? Nonetheless, Changbin shot you both a curious look. “What about the signatures? You need to sign everything, not just the approvals.”

Chan nonchalantly shrugged. “Surely your assistant can witness and take care of the grunt work.”

Your boss had paused then before he ultimately glanced back at the door. “Well… Of course she can.”

Minho stepped forward and directed Changbin out of the office before closing the door behind them both. You recalled finding yourself sort of wishing you had your coat back. Instead, you pressed your ankles and knees together. 

Chan took a step forward. 

You took one step back. 

The young King smirked, making a sweet dimple in his cheek more pronounced. 

“I don't bite, miss.”

“Are you sure?” you breathlessly retorted. 

“Never without reason, I promise,” he grinned before waving you closer. “Now, if you don't mind, I have some work I’d like to complete.”

In your recollection, from the hindsight afforded to you by surviving until day three, you were being ridiculous. 

Right?

That day in Chan’s office, you had approached the desk where he was going through the amendments. He was diligently flipping back and forth through the documents to find footnotes before initialing each item. 

“How’s your boyfriend?” he’d casually asked. 

“Boyfriend?” you sputtered. 

Chan shrugged as he continued signing. “I asked if you have a husband the other day and you said no, but I didn't ask if you had a boyfriend. I'm assuming you have a boyfriend. So how is he?”

“Well I don't have one,” you shook your head. “I mean, I don't anymore, I guess.”

The pen in Chan’s hand paused for a second. “So you’re single?”

He’d asked it while still facing his desk, as if this was still an innocent question. 

You grumbled out a sigh. “That hardly means I'm interested, your Majesty.”

Chan reeled, wheezing out an astounded laugh. “Just like that hardly means I'm picking up on you!”

“Aren't you?!” you’d taunted him. “Because you failed to pick up on me the other day.”

“Failed?!” Chan repeated, stunned. “We were interrupted!”

He’d fully stopped signing by now. You were both facing each other, his hands on his hips and your arms folded across your chest. 

“What was interrupted, exactly?” you openly questioned him. The air in the room was suffocating with growing tension. You’d stepped between his feet, startling him into falling back against his desk. This was a mirror of your encounter the other day now. “Chan, your Highness,” you continued, “if you had really wanted to do something you would've found a way to do it by now. I think you’re just lonely.”

Chan’s frustrated hands had been clumsy in their quickness, because his fingers accidentally tangled into your hair in his brash attempt to pull you close while also trying not to fall all the way down onto the desk. “Those points aren't mutually exclusive, miss,” he almost growled. He had the palm of his other hand roughly pressed flat against your lower back to maintain his proximity. “I’m lonely, sure, but you’re also pretty distracting.”

You’d pushed a fist back against Chan’s chest. “Then maybe allow me to stop distracting you, your Highness.”

“Please?”

His plea made you pause. Chan had stared up at you in that moment, eyes shining with want and longing. 

“Come on,” he’d bargained. “One minute? One kiss? Something. Just enough to get you out of my system.”

“With a bare minimum of respect, your Majesty,” you grimaced, “you’re insane if you think I'd risk everything to give into your – frankly gross – advances, especially just to get you to quit obsessing over me.”

“Sure,” Chan scoffed, “I'm insane, just call me mad.”

“Good. Be mad,” you’d hissed. 

It was only poetic that you’d noticed two things at that moment. First, Chan had pulled you against him so his thigh was slotted between your legs, straining your skirt yet again. Second, and much to your horror, you were both physically excited. Your heart was beating in your ears. Chan – a royal – was gazing at you with such desperation that you could combust. Despite all your deriding, you were going mad yourself from the thought that he was so taken by you. 

Chan had capitalized on your distraction, it turned out. His lips had tempted towards yours, beckoning you to go ahead and reach past that point of no return. And he was getting dangerously close to his goal–

“Are you still signing, sir? It’s been more than enough time– Oh! I’m sorry, er, I think someone is calling me from the hall…”

Before you had thankfully been interrupted by Minho once again. 

Chan had gracefully pushed you off of him before Changbin re-entered the office. Your boss shifted his gaze between both of you before you hurriedly turned back towards the desk to go over Chan’s signing. Changbin approached behind you, stooped down to pick something up, and innocently placed his hand where Chan’s had been moments before to scoot you out of the way so he could step between you two and collect the amendments. 

It’d seemed, for the time being, that you’d been saved from yourself. 

Except there were still the matter of the nylons to come. 

The week was turning into an endless cycle of stress. Only that evening following your ridiculous rendezvous with the king in his office, Jisung came to get some of his things. The bitterness between you hurt like mad. 

“I'll be out of your way in a minute,” Jisung had assured you. “Just grabbing the keyboard and my guitar, y'know, so I can work.”

It was funny, honestly, how fast that bitterness stopped hurting so much. 

“I'm sure your vigilante friends really enjoy that you can support yourself,” you’d nodded sarcastically. 

“Hey,” Jisung shot back with an ornery shrug, “at least they have a good cause. At least I'm not bored.”

- Day 4 -

You were still fuming about that little jab the next day. 

More paperwork. 

More meetings. 

More emails. 

It was almost like things were back to normal. 

Except, of course, now you knew what was happening that afternoon. 

Chan was invited but not expected to join this contingency meeting. You thought you were safe for some reason when everyone entered the palace board room near Chan’s office. The press wasn’t allowed into this area, thankfully. And Chan still stared, but this time you had decided you’d rather not humor him. You didn’t spare one glance towards him, instead letting yourself do the ill-advised thing and let Jisung’s piss-poor attitude fester inside you. The pen in your hand had a sickening scratch to it while you scrawled your notes on your legal pad. 

Jisung was an ungrateful ass, and you were dumb to let him skate by for months. You knew it was because it wasn’t that long ago that he’d been incredibly kind and present, and you couldn’t begin to explain just how romantic he used to be. He wrote you a song once, and played it for you after he made you dinner. Everything changed when you got this job.

The rapid typing of the stenographer had caught your attention.

“Your Highness? You still didn’t answer the question.”

“What–? Oh, I’m sorry. I got lost following a train of thought. Could you please repeat the question?”

You finally hazarded a glance up from your notepad to see just how lost in thought Chan could possibly be.

Very, apparently.

Across the board room table, Chan wasn’t even looking at his notes. It didn’t even look like he’d written anything. Instead, white-knuckle death grip on his pen, it appeared Chan had only succeeded in grinding a solid black square into the corner of his notepad. Just then, he’d caught you looking at him. You nonchalantly looked back at your own meeting materials, smug with the attention. Jisung was suddenly too good for you but you had the King’s eyes all to yourself? 

You could feel yourself growing bolder.

Chan’s gaze lit up the second he noticed that you had looked at him again, but this time his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, likely because you let yourself smirk back. His eyes darted to his watch, his notes, his paperwork, and back at you, almost like he was doubting if he actually caught that. You firmly fixed your eye on him across the table before you let yourself nibble on the end of your pen. 

Chan looked near death.

At the close of the meeting, you quickly leaned over to Changbin, letting him know you’d only be an extra minute to the car and to not wait up. He offered to ask Hyunjin to wait for you.

Changbin had raised an eyebrow but ultimately nodded when you refused, and with more curiosity when you got up before everyone else made their exit.

Before your initial encounter with the King in his office on day one, you had come across far too many broom and supply closets and even – lucky for you – a service corridor right down the hall. It was a small space, just an exit to the larger corridor system beyond the end of a tall spiral staircase. As if you were only on your way to the one restroom you could think of each time you came to the estate for meetings, you ducked down the hall to the right, only to instead step into the servers door at the back of the supply closet inside. You trotted down the hidden hallway, all the while refusing to lose your gumption. In fact, every time you thought about it, you’d just pictured the absolutely loveless glare Jisung had shot you the night before. 

You stopped at the service door next to Chan’s office, gingerly stepping around the wrought iron spiral staircase to barely crack the door open. The buckles on your bag softly clinked when you set it down, but it sounded concerningly loud in the cold space. Just outside, you had barely been able to make out Chan’s silhouette, cutting a smart shape in a casual shirt and slacks. 

“You go on ahead, Minho–”

“Your Highness,” Minho nagged, “your trainer is here in thirty minutes.”

“I know that,” Chan had dismissed, “I just forgot something in my office.”

“Then I’ll wait!”

“Oh my god!” the young King scoffed, “I’m not a child, Minho, go on ahead. I’ll be right there.”

You held your breath watching Chan turn back around. He’d hesitated, just for a moment. It wasn’t like you’d actually given him any sort of hint as to what was going to happen, you honestly just flirted the hardest you had since you’d met your stupid boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend.

Chan stepped back in the direction of his office, past the door you were hiding behind, before you finally shot your hand out, snagging his sleeve as he passed and yanking him into the servers corridor with you.

He didn’t even have a chance to shout, but he’d been startled enough that you both were pushed up against the railing to the staircase, breathing hard and shoved up chest to chest. His eyes were wide in the dim passage. “You know your way around the service ways?”

“I’m resourceful,” you’d retorted, nearly panting.

“So what’s all this about, then?” Chan grinned. Like this, he almost looked crazed. “Did my pouting yesterday win you over?”

“Hardly,” you scowled, before you worked your hand into his hair, just like he’d done to you the other day. “I’m seeing how much you meant it.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s obvious how much I mean it,” Chan insisted, his needy hands already on your waist and threatening to dip lower. You’d humored this, letting him pull your hips against his but refusing to let his lips get any closer to your own. His arms wrapped fierce around your waist, all but lifting you onto your tiptoes against him. You tugged his masterfully tamed tresses in your grip and he winced in response. His grip remained steadfast.

“You just want to get me out of your system, right? That’s what you said?” you sneered, ducking your chin to the side when he leaned in to kiss you. Shoved up together like this, his thigh was firmly pressing between your legs once again.

“No,” Chan stubbornly refuted. “This is me settling. I want you but we both know that’s reckless and stupid.”

A harsh giggle escaped you before you could reply. “Some would argue this is already reckless and stupid.”

His fingertips were so firm in the soft flesh of your waist. “Look,” he growled, his gaze heavy-lidded and focused on your lips, “did you get me in here just to humiliate me? Because it’s working.”

You had locked gazes for one moment. Really, you let yourself. Your temptation got the better of you, and for one moment that miserably sappy, swooping feeling coursed through you. The rush of infatuation all but stabbed into you, and all you could remember for one second was how hurt you were. 

This was a terrible way to cope.

But holy shit, Chan was going to be the death of you if he kept looking at you like that. His chest was heaving against yours, his pupils were blown wide in all the excitement, and worst of all, you caught yourself preoccupied with his lips. That stupid pout. His gorgeous mouth.

You had kept one hand firmly in his hair to keep his distance, but with the other you gently cupped his face. Just this gesture made Chan sigh under his breath against you. His jaw tensed under your palm. Your thumb traced the line of his bottom lip.

“I don’t want to humiliate you, your Majesty,” you reassured him, your tone dripping, syrupy sweet. “I already told you. I want to see how much you mean it.”

Chan’s fingers clenched into your side with the mention of his royal title, making you gasp. His eyes lit up at the sound. “Let me finally kiss you and I’ll show you.”

His voice was deep, husky, pulling up all the desire from his gut and making you feel lightheaded. But still, you’d shaken your head at him.

“You didn’t earn that yet, your Highness,” you earnestly scolded him.

Chan’s hands threateningly tensed again at your taunting. “Then what, dear Lady, have I earned?” He finally got a laugh in when his formality made you pause. “You started it, my lady. Now let me ask again: what did I earn?”

You forcefully pushed him back another few inches so you could get a good look at him.

“You can kiss me–” you’d begun, waiting to really savor how much Chan had nearly combusted at your words. He’d so nearly lunged forward before you shoved into him again. “You can kiss me,” you repeated, “here. That's all you’ve earned.” His starving eyes watched diligently, following your pointer finger delicately but firmly landing on the side of your neck. 

“That’s all I’m going to need,” Chan gruffly assured you. 

You didn’t even get a chance to retort before he dove into you, his lips immediately pressing into the taut skin of your neck, just over your pulse. The gasped whimper you’d let out was pathetic and instant. Already, you melted into Chan’s arms and just let him litter your throat with heated nips and kisses, his teeth grazing your skin when he refused to pull his lips off of you.

It felt like an eternity that you’d let the King squeeze and grope and kiss you practically anywhere but your lips, but you knew it’d been more like five minutes. You were buzzing from how heated he’d gotten you.

Except you weren’t buzzing.

It was your phone, in your bag, on the ground by the door.

You’d been missing for five minutes.

The King had been missing for five minutes.

A much more alarmed gasp ripped from your throat as you’d pieced this all back together. 

“Chan–” you hurriedly called to him.

His lips were still buried in the crook of your neck, tickling you. “Hmmn–” he only grunted in reply.

The hair on the back of your neck rose on end when you heard a voice coming down the hall.

Minho.

Now Chan suddenly seemed to hear you. He stood up straight to look in the direction of the sound. His cheeks were fully flushed.

“Oh fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

“What do we do?” you frantically whispered.

“There’s a door further down the hall in my office,” Chan concluded. “You go back the way you came.”

You nodded but held fast for the King to leave, except he only looked back at you.

“Well?” he expectantly asked. “I’m waiting for you; go on.”

He’d urged you to go, and that was all you needed to hear. You scooped up your bag and hurried back in the direction you’d come.

You practically fell through the service door hidden in the bathroom and nearly refused to look at yourself in the mirror, but you were glad you did anyway. The sight you caught in your reflection was a damn mess. You quickly pulled your blouse and sweater back into place before combing your fingers through your hair when you heard a knock at the door.

Who the hell could that be?

You’d taken two deep breaths before reluctantly opening the door, only to be faced with Hyunjin.

Changbin waited up after all.

Hyunjin looked up from the phone in his hand.

“Sorry to rush you, miss,” he glibly apologized, “you know how he gets.”

You nodded, guilty. “I know how he gets.”

Changbin was diligently tapping away on his laptop when you joined him in the car, as if he’d had no problem waiting for you. He had to. There was no way this hadn’t felt inconvenienced in the slightest. In short, this was how he got. Changbin was too accommodating, that even him being annoyed was almost imperceptible from how hospitable he typically was. 

The Chancellor smoothly shut his computer and stowed it in his work bag as Hyunjin had also joined you in the car. Changbin reached into his pocket, still saying nothing to you, and drew something out in his closed fist.

“Did you drop this the other day, by any chance?”

Changbin opened his hand and held it out to you, presenting Jisung’s pendant and chain he’d given you back when he still acted like he loved you. 

Your hand flew to your collarbone, as if you were checking that it were, in fact, missing. It was, obviously. But when had you dropped it? Changbin said it’d been the other day, but–

Of course. In Chan’s office.

All the confidence Chan had just given you crumbled into dust.

“You still enjoy working with me, right?” Changbin asked suddenly, startling you. His tone was still measured, still cordial.

“Of course I do,” you quickly reassured him. You sat up in concern. “Why do you ask?”

“Just,” Changbin sighed, gesturing out towards the palace with a wave, “there’s a lot going on. I like working with you, so I just want to make sure it’s still mutual.”

“I really like working with you, too,” you insisted, leaning over to place a comforting hand on his.

Changbin nodded with a humble smile, but you didn’t feel like you’d done much to actually convince him.

Day four and you hadn’t even finished ruining your life yet.

- Day 5 -

You huffed out a terse sigh. Surely, there would be a recess during this Assembly before too long. You tapped your phone at the corner of your desk. Ten minutes left. This was an insufferably long meeting, and it was only made worse by how grueling it was. You went to surreptitiously grab your lipstick out of your bag. You were sure you didn’t need to touch up, but it’d be nice to duck into the restroom during the recess and hide out.

This was carefully planned to help maintain the last bit of resolve you had left. You were never really one for lipstick and a dress for work, but it seemed warranted by now. There wouldn’t be any temptation if you had on a full face of makeup. You looked good, and it’d be stupid to humor doing anything as dangerous as the previous day if you could leave such obvious evidence behind. The dress was really just to accentuate the first point, but it helped that the form fitting little number wasn’t exactly “easy access”.

Listen to yourself, you’d lamented earlier in the meeting, you sound like you’re hoping you’ll get to test that theory out.

Thankfully Chan seemed equally discouraged. He’d been bombarded since Assembly started, and it seemed the members were not keen on going easy on him. As it turned out, if Chan was so hell-bent on opening up some avenues for better public assistance programs, then his Assembly was going to do everything in their power to see how much the young royal wanted it. He’d had his work cut out for him since the Assembly was called to order, and Changbin wasn’t even helping him. On the contrary, Changbin had been joining his colleagues in the dogpile.

“Your Majesty,” Changbin boredly continued as he flipped through the proposals on his desk. “As I’m sure you know, your elective power isn’t all-encompassing. Department of Economic Welfare brings up multiple strong points as to why your proposal simply moves too fast to maintain a healthy economy.”

“Healthy?” Chan repeated incredulously across the room. “This economy is in shambles, Mr. Chancellor, and I don’t need to be a financial advisor to see that. Our people are either rioting in the streets or too starving and sick to do so. There’s no economy without them–”

“And you know that, your Highness?” Changbin curtly cut in. “You know they’re poor and sick? You’ve seen the statistics from the hospital board and the food banks?”

Chan had openly scoffed at this. “They can’t afford to leave work to get proper treatment! They can’t qualify for the food banks because they barely make more than the maximum!”

Changbin shook his head in doubt, encouraging the rest of his cohort to do the same. “I hardly believe we’re speaking with any concrete proof. Sounds more like you just want to appeal to a people who have grown too comfortable with their current freedoms and yearn for more.”

“Changbin,” you blurted out with admonishment, before you could even consider stopping yourself. The whole Assembly stopped. You wondered why, and then you realized you were horrifically close to Changbin’s microphone. 

Your eyes darted around the room. All these old men were staring daggers into you.

Except for Changbin and Chan. Changbin was stunned, but Chan’s eyes were practically glittering. You cleared your throat before leaning closer to Changbin.

“Mr. Chancellor,” you more formally resumed, “I beg you to recall the platform you ran with only two years ago. You yourself believe there’s a breakdown in communication between our working class and upper class, and only because our upper class refuses to listen.”

You felt a hand gently wrap around your wrist and you glanced back to see Hyunjin try to convince you to sit back in your seat. His pleading eyes were desperate enough that he almost cursed when you yanked your hand back.

Changbin was a bit gobsmacked, which was all the permission you needed to continue. “Those people in the streets are making demands, Chancellor. They are not bored and they are not greedy. This is what it’s taken for them to be noticed at all. His Highness is aware enough to notice that, so I beg the Assembly to do the same.”

At first, you thought you were hearing murmurs ring out through the Assembly hall. However, to your horror, it was the clicks of cameras going off. The press were simply and blatantly going against protocol. You choked down a nervous breath and sat back in your seat, refusing to look up from your notepad. It was not normal for the Chancellor’s staff to speak during Assembly. Changbin was damningly silent.

The Moderator sheepishly called recess, a full three minutes before it was time.

Chan and his staff got up first, crossing the Assembly floor to the doors at the end of the aisle you were seated by. You looked anywhere but his direction when they passed.

A number of reporters and correspondents pushed past your desk to approach Changbin. You definitely needed a breath of fresh air. Thankfully, the women’s restroom would be glaringly empty. You gathered up your bag before sitting back up to grab your notepad, only to find that your phone was missing. It hadn’t moved at all the past few minutes, but it was possible you’d dropped it. You scrambled to search the desk and floor, before you hazarded a look around to make sure no camera hounds were watching you. Thankfully not, but there was Chan looking at you from the back of the Assembly hall. He held up your phone at you with a small smirk.

Your face heated up to the point of blistering.

That asshole. You helped him out and this was the thanks you got?

You abandoned your bag and instead jogged out of the Assembly hall to follow after Chan. 

Honestly, you had no idea what you were doing. You would never be allowed in the Court chamber that the King and his staff could take recess and private meetings. That was its own clearance level with security and everything. Instead, you ducked down the hall towards the restrooms. You wouldn’t fall for this. You’d adjust your lipstick and fussy dress in the mirror and go back where you could apologize to Changbin for speaking out of turn once the reporters left him alone.

All good ideas, but Chan was waiting at the end of the hall when you got there.

You froze in place before stalking over to him.

“I can’t believe you helped me in there,” Chan gushed, transparent glee on his face. You shoved his shoulder before you looked around.

“You cannot be out here!” you frantically scolded him, “And without your entourage?! Are you mad?”

Chan grabbed onto your hand. “You told me to be.”

He reached down behind a tall pedestal holding a vase and exposed a hidden door. You barely had a chance to ogle it before he pulled you inside.

“You’re not taking me to the Court chamber,” you refused.

“Better,” Chan smiled, “these are the emergency halls.”

You half-spun to get a better look in the dim corridor. Surely enough, you remembered hearing about this. There was a network of tunnels, halls, and bunkers that only the highest clearance could access. When you were growing up, there was a photo spread in a national magazine with Chan and his father playing hide and seek in a dark hallway just like this, the tall support pillars providing ample room to get lost in.

And you did just that. You whipped around to find Chan, when he popped out from behind a pillar down the hall. A spitting image of the boy you grew up seeing, wishing you could have a life like that before you ever knew what a burden this all was.

Chan waved your phone at you again. “Who’s this guy with you on your lockscreen?” he asked. Your face heated up again. It was a picture of you and Jisung on a carousel.

“No one,” you replied, mortified.

Chan rolled his eyes. “Right. And what’s your wallpaper?”

“You opened my phone?!”

You uselessly jogged further down the hall, your low heels clicking on the concrete floor.

“Your combo is 1-2-3-4,” Chan laughed before ducking out of sight again. “Now what’s the wallpaper of?”

A frustrated sigh growled out of you. “It’s my aunt’s house in the country. Now can I please have my phone back?”

You shrieked when you felt a hand on your shoulder, only to find Chan there when you wheeled around.

“You know I only have fun when you’re around lately?” he chuckled before he ran off again.

“This is not fun,” you complained, “it’s only been a nightmare since it started.”

“Says you,” Chan taunted from somewhere down the hall, “but you seemed to be having fun yesterday.”

A light turned on further down the corridor and you ran as fast as your dumb heels could carry you, only to find Chan casually lounging in an old bunker. You peeked into the room, finding a small bed, couch, desk, and other basics. It very well could’ve not been touched in twenty years. Chan was sitting against the desk, looking at your phone again when you stepped in. He got up and simply placed the phone back in your hand.

“I can’t believe you helped me in there,” he repeated, but far more gently. Far more earnestly. He meant it. 

You snatched the phone back. “They weren’t being fair to you at all. And I have no clue what’s been going on with Changbin lately; I’m sorry for how he’s been acting.”

“I get it,” Chan shrugged, “a lot of people think I was just bumming around in those last few years before my father died, but I was honestly just trying to get a better idea of other people, other ways of living. It was nice being out of the limelight.”

“Oh my god,” you bemoaned in recollection. “Those cameras. I can’t believe I was such an ass in there.”

“You were great,” Chan assured you. “And you look great. Any reason you got all dressed up today?”

You took a step back, only to find yourself backed up into the doorframe. Chan took a step closer, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“Maybe I wanted everyone to keep their distance,” you attempted.

“Not sure how well that’s working,” Chan shook his head. “Now, do I still have what I earned yesterday, or do I need to do it all over again?”

You tried pressing yourself further into the doorframe. “I thought the whole point was to get me out of your system, your Majesty.”

“Between yesterday and just now in Assembly, there’s a lot more of you I need to get out of my system.”

Chan’s chest was firm where you pushed your hands flat against him. One of his wrapped around your waist.

“Look,” you rebuked, “I don’t get it. Why me? You literally don’t know me, and all I’ve done is tried to get you to leave me alone.”

“I think it’s pretty easy,” he began. “I want to get to know you. I like how you carry yourself, and I really like how you work. I’m just really attracted to you, okay? Women that I get set up with, they don’t know what it means to work. I met women like that when I traveled, but I haven’t ever since I took the throne. And there’s certainly no one like you around.”

There was that awful swooping feeling again, but you didn’t have any clever rebuttals for Chan this time. It’d be remiss to say you weren’t enjoying this at least a little.

You were surprised when Chan leaned in and kissed your cheek, brief and featherlight. The air in your lungs evaporated.

“Honestly?” he continued. “I’ve been feeling like I’ve been doing this all alone so far. You helping me in there? I actually felt like I can do this.”

Chan kissed your other cheek, just as lightly, just as quickly. Now his lips lingered near yours.

“Is it me?” you finally asked, quietly but firmly, “Or is it just how I make you feel?”

The King thought about this for a moment. “I don’t think anyone can make me feel the way that you do.”

He’d murmured it but you’d heard it loud as day before Chan actually kissed you. His lips pressed into the lipstick you’d specifically worn to discourage yourself, just like his hands clutched into the dress you’d worn for the same reason. His gorgeous mouth felt divine against your own, and soon you were clutching onto his shirt collar to pull him closer. You both gasped and sighed and groaned into each other, goading each other on. The boldness he treated you with only encouraged your own, and soon you were teasing the tip of your tongue against the seam of his lips. Now you were breathing hot into each other, tongues wrestling for dominance against each other.

“This is such a terrible idea,” you gasped against his neck, noticing your lipstick smearing down into his collarbones. 

“I know,” he agreed, trying to coax you up onto the desk, “which is exactly why we’re not telling anyone.”

“I love your optimism,” you laughed, “but I really don’t know how this can stay secret if we keep doing it.” You swatted his starving hands off of you, but he just grabbed onto you more firmly, getting a possessive grip on your thighs and causing the first rips in your nylons. He smirked at your shocked gasp and capitalized on it, using your distraction to push you back onto the desk and come forward between your spread knees. Your stockings stretched again as Chan pushed the skirt of your dress up enough to settle down against you.

“Well,” he panted with that same charming smile, “once I get you out of my system, we won’t have to do this anymore.”

“Not callous whatsoever,” you teased, before feebly gasping when you felt Chan’s fingers on your inner thigh.

“Can you blame me?” laughed Chan. “Not once have you actually said you like me. For all I know, you just think I’m hot.” His lips teased your neck again before he clamped down, all to take your attention away from the fact that his needy hands had managed to rip a hole in your nylons, right between your legs.

“I do not just think you’re hot,” you argued, but you were cut off into a surprised squeal when you felt his fingertips begin to tease you. Your back arched off of the desk and you actually managed to kick him off. 

Chan grunted and steadied himself, but he wasn’t able to stop you in time from sliding off the desk and back onto your feet. “So you do think I’m hot,” he chuckled.

He all too easily grappled you into his arms and tossed you on the couch, but he yelped once you snatched his necktie in your hand, yanking him down beside you.

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, “but everyone thinks you’re hot.”

The King cursed when you used your grip on his tie as a counterweight to swing your leg over and land on his lap. He looked up at you, practically in adoration.

“I just think,” you continued, “that people underestimate you. I think you underestimate yourself. I think you have the potential to be an amazing leader, you just need to pull your head out of the clouds.”

You’d caught him off guard. Chan looked up at you, about to say something but refusing until he got that shit-eating grin back.

“That move was cute. Where’d you learn that?”

He’d hooked a finger into the neckline of your dress and pulled you down to kiss you again, but the question stuck with you. You could feel him between your legs.

Jisung. You’d first done that little maneuver with Jisung. His necklace was back at your apartment, unused after Changbin gave it back to you.

Chan’s lips and nipping teeth stopped where they had been threatening to dive under your dress. He pushed you off of him a little bit.

“What’s wrong?”

No. You could not be crying right now, not like some dumb teenager, but there was that telltale sting in your eyes.

You cursed and slid off of Chan’s lap before you grabbed your phone from where it’d fallen amidst all the commotion. He got up to his feet, worry etched in his brow.

“The guy on the lockscreen is my ex, Chan,” you grumbled as you shoved the phone in his hand. You awkwardly shifted your dress back into place. “I got dumped the other day.”

Chan was speechless, mouth opening and closing a couple times as he looked at the picture. He clearly wasn’t expecting that. Well, he should’ve been expecting that, but not like this.

Right?

“So… Definitely not a husband.”

“No, Chan, no husband.”

“And no boyfriend.”

“Nope. No boyfriend.”

“Because you just got out of a relationship.”

“Within the week.”

“I’m such an ass,” Chan regretted out loud. He shook his head at the floor, his hands on his hips.

“Really hope someone can be there for you,” you sarcastically bit back.

“Can you not do that?” Chan nagged. “I shouldn’t have been all over you like I have been.”

“No,” you replied with a sigh. “I had plenty of chances and I didn’t tell you. It’s been complicated and it felt nice to just be liked.”

Chan grumbled under his breath but he nudged your phone back at you. “You got a text.”

Actually, you just got another text, you realized as you grabbed your phone back. There was a new text, from Hyunjin.

>>I’m not going to ask what you’re doing, but where the hell ARE you? You know he wants to check in before Assembly is called back to order.

Holy shit.

You were at work. You were in a bunker in the emergency halls under the Assembly building and you were very much about to sleep with the King or at least give him the opportunity if common sense and the real world hadn’t come back to snap you out of it. This was utterly surreal and very nearly a huge problem.

Phone in hand and without a parting glance, you stormed back into the hall to find your way back to the Assembly hall. The King didn’t follow you.

Behind you in the main corridor, Chan had emerged from somewhere, judging by the cameras going off in the distance.

You charged ahead, back to Changbin, where he would notice your stockings and not say a single word to you, and then right back to the bathroom (for real this time), where you were now trying not to cry even more lest you have to touch up your lipstick and your mascara.

This was fine. This was fixable. You’d make up with Changbin, let Chan down easy, and set up time for you and Jisung to actually talk about this. 

Your phone buzzed again. This time it was your friend, Yeji. Normally you wouldn’t answer a personal text at work but this had to be worth it for her to do this. You’d kill for a mood-lifter right about now.

>>Girl WHAT I almost texted you after your sudden burst of badass energy earlier but nevermind because I *called it* what did I tell you??? Little king mr. man of the people is a royal man-whore oh my GOD

What the hell?

You scrolled down to the screenshot Yeji sent from a local news account. There was another sneaky cell phone shot of Chan, right now, in Assembly, who’d never fixed his tie and collar so everyone sitting in just the right spot could see your stupid perfect little lip print on his collarbone.

This was so close to being a disaster. You threw the phone back in your bag and quietly entered the Assembly hall as graciously as you could.

Surprisingly, Changbin leaned right over.

“You didn’t miss anything,” he murmured in your ear, “but is there any reason his Highness’ staff is asking if you’re available for a transfer?”

“What?” you asked, wondering why everyone was staring at you. “No, I have no idea.”

Okay. You could work with this. No one knew it was you. Chan could handle his own PR hiccups, and you’d politely decline the offer to move over to his staff.

Seriously, why was everyone staring at you?

Hyunjin, ever the mind-reader, slid a glass of water in front of you and you took a healthy swig to relieve your dry throat. You reflexively grabbed a napkin to dab the lipstick mark left on the glass–

The lipstick. Your eyes frantically scanned the room again. King Chan had just resumed Assembly with lipstick on his neck, the exact same shade that you, the only woman in the godforsaken room, was wearing.

This was officially a disaster.

[To be continued.]

#omgggggggggg ill be reading this tonight who needs sleep!!!!!!!

[spookyunwon]

loveline | nine [previous ✰ next] summary: when kim sunwoo tries to make his move on the person he likes, he decides to start reaching out to her anonymously. what could go wrong, right?

#congrats girl omfg TOOK ME OOOOOOOOOOOUT #😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭