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#kim younghoon x you

mingtinys · 1 month

Text

back in the game

pairing : kim younghoon x gn!reader

maverick!au , angst , hurt / comfort

warnings : mentions of fire , blood , and death

word count : 0.7 k

requested ? no

a/n : maverick and tbz lore has always been so interesting to me, SO expect plenty of lore-based boyz fics

Younghoon still dreams on the brink of suffocation. With smoke twirling in the orange glow of his world burning around him. Infiltrating the makeshift inferno trapping him and filling his lungs.

Every night, for nearly two months, the memory plagues his sleep. Forced to relive every excruciating second down to the very last detail.

It always starts the same, with you lying slumped in his arms. Short, sputtering, gasps escaping your red-tinged lips as he cradles you against his chest. His left hand is warm, coated in dark red as it desperately clamps down on the gaping wound in your abdomen. But no amount of pressure can stop your blood from pooling on the dirty cement below. At this point, it's a race to see what kills you first. The rebar through your stomach or the fire spreading through the compound.

The collapsed steel around him moans as it bows from the heat. The sound akin to the weathered wood of an old house bearing its final storm. Ash flurries around like snow from above. Each flake hissing as they singe his clammy skin.

"Please!" He cries, between fits of coughs. His throat too parched for his vocal cords to produce anything but a hoarse whimper. "Someone! We're down here, please..."

But in his dreams, Eric doesn't find him. Doesn't hear his tattered screams through the rubble. Doesn't tear through the remains, piece by piece, scorching his hands on the hot metal in the process. Sangyeon doesn't pull him from his prison and rush you to Jacob for treatment just in the nick of time.

In his dreams, you go limp, and Younghoon spends his final minutes on earth alone. Left to choke on the stench of iron and smoke. Those eight neon letters burned into his brain.

MAVERICK.

A sick, twisted, game.

It's not fair.

How could any of what happened ever be justified in their eyes? The inhumanity. All that training just to treat them as expendable tools. Like–

"Younghoon," you call softly. Like anything louder would shatter what's left of him. "Younghoon, love, it's too cold to be out here at this hour."

Younghoon can't remember how long it's been since he awoke from his personal hell. All he can recall after waking were the four walls closing in on him. The sweat drenched his back and hairline. Dread flooding his veins, mind, and lungs. Panic lighting every neuron ablaze until it propelled him into the crisp night.

He thought he could escape it out here. But his chair creaks against the wooden porch as he rocks. Creaks like steel beams. The stars litter the sky like ash. The rain pipe drips and pools like your blood–

"Hey," gentle fingers tilt his chin up to your worried gaze. "You're not there." It's times like tonight, when you tether Younghoon to his reality, that he finally feels safe enough to let his emotions catch up to him.

"Was it the same nightmare?" You ask even though you already know.

His answer comes in the form of teary eyes and an outstretched hand that tugs at the hem of your shirt. A silent plea for comfort. Certainty. Confirmation you won't slip away when his eyes shut. Shaky fingers dip under the soft fabric and ghost the scarred skin beneath. You shudder, no doubt with your own memories of that night. One's you've refused to speak of since. Younghoon doesn't know just how much of it you remember, just that the nightmares find you at this hour as well.

Strained sobs break the silence of the night. You cradle his head against your stomach to muffle them. Delicate fingers comb through his hair in an attempt to soothe, though they do little to quell his tears. Younghoon clutches at any part of you he can grasp. Refusing to let death rip you from his arms once more.

"I can't..." He gasps, "–I can't breathe."

You assure him he can. "Just follow me, okay? In–" you trail a finger up his spine "– then out," and back down. You breathe with him, letting your finger be the metronome to guide him. A few more and the tension in his muscles melts away into exhaustion.

Finally, Younghoon feels the smoke clear from his lungs.

27 notes · View notes

blizzardfluffykpop · 2 months

Text

Broken Belts

Summary: Of course, the one day you decide to take it out for a spin, your classic car decides the repairs you were avoiding need immediate maintenance. Leading to you needing to head to a garage to fix them.

Oneshot

Fluff, Strangers to Dating, Fast burn?

Possible Warning?: Referring to a car as ‘Baby’.

Word Count: 4,956

‘Old-School’ Mechanic! Younghoon X Reader

[Long a/n w/info to go: If you’re changing your serpentine belt when it’s past due as you will do here, pls change the pulleys too- but rn you will not do that :) Very simplified car terminology: crankshaft: rotates pistons which runs the engine, alternator: keeps the battery charged, power steering: helps you turn easily, idler: keeps the engine running while it’s ‘sitting’, and water pump runs water throughout the system. Serpentine belt: The belt that keeps all the pulleys (that are attached to above terms) in time with each other, can be one or multiple. In this fic there will be two: A power steering serpentine belt & an air conditioning belt. Lastly, the two cars featured are a: ‘70 Boss 302 Mustang and a ‘71 Maverick. Lastly but not least; a special thanks to @jinkoh for helping inspire another Younghoon fic.].

------

You knew better. You swore you knew better, but even with the loud squealing of the serpentine belt, you still kept driving it. Because, of course, it wouldn’t break before you had time to change it. After all, it was just the first few days of summer. You wanted to enjoy the weekend with your Boss 302 Mustang, whether or not it was screaming. You’d replace them during the week when you had the time, but this was the first weekend, so it’d be fine. Your air conditioning had been malfunctioning recently, but in your mind, it was because the car was fifty-some years old. You just rolled the windows down and enjoyed the weather. Maybe, if it was a newer car, the computer would be screaming at you now to see a specialist. But that was the pleasure of older cars. You never had to deal with extra lights telling you the exact mileage when to do things. You could do it at your leisure, and like the serpentine belt, you’d fix it at your leisure.

So, with that thought in mind, at the turn of the green light, you slammed on the gas, the car roaring as you sped down the route ten miles over the speed limit. Your car needed to feel the breeze, even if it meant a ticket. You laugh as you continue down the sunset strip. It feels good to be behind the wheel after two seasons of waiting. You make it through two more green lights before hitting another red light. You pout and wait for it to turn green as you notice you're the only one waiting at the intersection. When the light changes, you get on it again, flying through the intersection.

You start turning your wheel to follow the curve when you hear a ‘snap’ sound over your radio. Your eyes widen as you lose power steering. Maybe it was good that your daily driver told you when to change things. “No, no, you promised me a nice weekend. Come on, baby.” You gulp as the wheel gets harder to turn. You make it past the curve, throwing your four-ways on, and a hundred feet after it, manage to pull it over onto the side of the road. You check it’s clear before popping the hood, getting out of the car, and shutting the door. You slip your fingers between the grill and opening and move the latch to the side, lifting up the hood, praying it isn’t one of the belts. You raise it until you can put the prop inside the slot. You let the hood rest on it before looking over the engine before locking eyes with the two-belt pulley system. It was the reason why you were avoiding repairing it this weekend. It was rotten to deal with one, but two? That's nightmare fuel. You look at the air conditioning belt and see it’s intact even though it’s dry-rotted. You sigh in relief before checking the power steering belt and watch as it falls off and onto the ground. You look up to the sky before shaking your head, “Well… I definitely can’t make it home, but I can get it to a garage at least.”

You get on your knees and grab the fallen belt. You check it over to see the clean snap and dry rot. And shake your head again, “There goes my nice weekend.” With a sigh, “I know, I know it’s my fault. I should have fixed you the second I heard your squealing. But I’ll fix you now, baby. It’s okay.” You look for the dimension numbers as you listen to the soft breeze. You hum as you type them on your phone as someone zooms past you reminding you you're still stuck on the road in the middle of nowhere. You lift the hood off the prop, locking it in place. You lower the hood down gently and let it drop the rest of the way. It clicks in place, and you get back inside your car.

You look up the nearest garages, looking for one with spaces to rent and a mechanic experienced in older automobiles. And luckily, the closest happens to be Younghoon’s Garage, an automotive repair shop. You read further to see he specializes in classic car maintenance and dabbles in the newer stuff. And that he allows for people to rent out garage spaces to work on their car. You sigh in relief. It was going to be okay. You didn’t have to deal with an inexperienced mechanic telling you how to work on your car. Nor did you have to worry about letting someone work on your baby, either.

You call up the garage and hear the voice of a person around your age answer, “Younghoon’s garage; what can I help you with?” You gulp your nervousness back; it's probably just the mechanic’s son taking the call. “Uh, I need to rent a garage today.” He hums on the other line, “Okay~ I have three available. Feel free to bring your car down any time today before six, or I won’t be able to let you in.” You thank him and tell him you’re two miles away and you’ll be there soon. “Okay, I’ll be waiting!” You hang up and place the belt on the floor. You turn your car over, pressing in the clutch, scolding your car, “Now, don’t give me any more troubles until we get to the shop, baby.” You shift it down to first, release the handbrake, and give it some gas before checking to see it’s clear. You grit your teeth as you turn the wheel to get it on the road before heading to the garage.

You couldn’t be happier to see the old-fashioned neon sign saying, “Younghoon’s Garage.” You groan as you turn the wheel, putting everything into it just to make it turn left. As you pull in, you see someone leaning against the entryway of a garage door. His hair is slightly in his eyes as he looks down at the ground. He looks up as you get closer, and you see him for the first time. You’ve never seen someone make a gray denim overshirt and white tee look so good. You huff out a breath as he waves you in, walking to the back of the garage. He guides you onto the lift, and if you weren’t struggling behind the wheel, you would have been stunned by his pretty smile. When he motions for you to stop, you tiredly put it into park, putting the handbrake down before turning it off. You shake your hands, getting the feeling back in them after gripping the wheel tightly to maneuver it.

You open your door and get out to see him waiting for you. He greets you with a warm smile, and you smile back as you shut the door behind you, “Hi, I’m (Y/n).” And he smiles, “Nice to meet you, I’m Younghoon.” You stop your jaw from dropping and tell him it’s nice to meet him, too. You didn’t expect him to be the owner. He looks at your car, “Your belt was squealing.” You sigh, “I know…” He shrugs as he laughs, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Did the power steering belt snap? It looked like you were struggling to turn it.” You nod, and he pats your shoulder, “I’m glad you got here safe then.” You sigh, “Me too.” He smiles and tells you, “Anyways, the garage is all yours to use! If you need parts or anything. Feel free to see my office.” He points to the door that leads out of the garage. He gives you one last smile before leaving, and you smile back.

You roll down the garage door, not wanting to deal with the slight breeze blowing inside while you’re working. You prop the hood up and head to the toolboxes, looking for the sockets and wrenches. You take the socket wrench with you and test the sockets against the bolt until you find the right size. And with ease, you loosen the idler pulley. You ratchet it back into place after removing the belt. You read the dimensions and write it down on your phone before heading to Younghoon's office. You open the door and find he’s nowhere to be found. You look down at the counter, trying to figure out what to do. When you see a ripped sheet of notebook paper, “(Y/n), if you need me, I’m in the garage two doors down!” You smile, not expecting his penmanship to be so pretty. You walk out the front door and hear the loud sounds of an air ratchet. You follow them to the garage he told you he’d be in. And see him pulling a back tire off of a Maverick. You take the sight in momentarily before reminding yourself that you’re here to work on your vehicle, not admire the shop owner. You come up to him, and before you can say anything, he rolls the tire up against the wall and sees you first. “Hey, (Y/n)! Whatcha ya need?” You smile, “My belts, but I can wait for you to finish this up.” He shakes his head, wipes his hands off on a white towel, and gets off the roller, “No need! I have another hour to replace the brakes on this Maverick.” You laugh and shrug, “If you say so.”

He leads you back to the shop, and that’s when you catch the smell of his cologne for the first time. You shake your head; of course, he smells good too. He holds the door open for you and lets you in. He runs his hand through his hair as he asks, “What sizes?” You tell him, and he nods, “I’ll go get them from the back.” You watch him disappear behind the shelving units. He peeks his head out for a second, and you resist smiling about how cute he is as he asks, “Anything else?” You shake your head and tell him, “No, I’m good.” He comes the rest of the way out, and you have to remind your heart that even if looks cute, he’s just doing his job. You thank him as he gently puts them in your hands. He heads out the front door while you head back out the side door to your garage.

After setting the new ones down, you take and toss the old ones into the rubber disposable bin. You find a clean rag and wet it with soap and water to clean off the pulleys. One dirty rag later, everything is cleaned and ready for its new belts. You head to your glovebox and pull out the modified diagram you made when you last replaced the belts. You mutter to yourself, “Next time, I’m getting a serpentine kit, so I only have to fix one belt.” You sigh as you look over your notes before slipping the new power steering belt out of its packaging. You fold and put it away, having already memorized the modified diagram. You slip it underneath the crankshaft pulley, before pulling the belt up to the alternator pulley, and slipping it over it. The easy part is over. You slide it underneath the water pump before moving the belt to where the power steering pulley is to wind it around. You work the belt up to the pulley, and it starts giving you a hard time. It takes two tries before you can muster all of your strength in your hands to force it up and over. You let out a breath of relief and take a break for water, sitting on the shop chair, knowing that the worst belt was over.

You take your time before heading back to the engine. The last step would be easy. All you had to do was get this over and out of this garage, and you’d be set for the next forty to seventy thousand miles if you’d play your cards right. You sigh as you pull the big belt out of its packaging and play with it, debating if your car was worth the trouble. You shake your head, deciding to do it, checking your diagram one last time before slipping the belt under the crankshaft pulley. After several minutes of struggling, you finally get the belt over the idler pulley. You grumble at it before attempting to push it over the a/c pulley. You try several more times but continue to come up short, just getting it to skim the top of it, not being able to push it over. You decide to let it go, thinking it’ll rest on the idler, and you watch as it slips right off both and onto the ground.

Having enough, you yell at it, “You gotta be kidding me!” You get down on your knees and pull it off the floor as you hear the office door fly open. You look to see Younghoon rushing out, “I heard you yell! Are you okay!?” You glare at the belt, “I’m okay… just mad at an inanimate object.” He chuckles, “You had me worried there.” After a moment, he gently asks, “Can I help?” You give him a look, “Wouldn’t that cost more…” He shakes his head with a laugh as he tells you, “You’ve already spent three hours here. I’ve got my money's worth.” You chuckle, “I guess so. And only if you want to.” He smiles and comes around to the front beside you, “Which belt are you working on?” You pull your diagram out showing him, “The air conditioning belt.” He nods, looking over it as he memorizes it, “Okay, let’s do it together.”

He rolls his gray sleeves up before holding his hand out for the belt. You hand it over, and he has you switch sides. He reaches his arm down and slips it under the crankshaft pulley. When he lifts his head, he compliments you, “You did well on the other belt!” You thank him, and he lets you pull it over the idler, and with a struggle, you push it over. His arm brushes yours as he reaches for the belt, “You hold it tight on the idler, and I’ll try to push it over the AC, okay?” You nod and clasp your hand over it so it doesn’t move off of the pulley. And with a grunt, he shoves it over, and your jaw drops before you go, “I loosened it up for you.” He looks over at you, and he winks, “Sure.” You look away to hide your fluster making a show of picking up your socket wrench. And he asks, “What size do you have so we can make this job go quicker?” You tell him, and he walks away as you start tightening down the bolts. He leans down beside you, putting his arm inside to tighten the crankshaft pulley. As you bump his side, you look over at him and give him an awkward smile, and he laughs as he does the same. You both continue bumping into each other until it’s all set in place, exchanging little smiles each time.

Once it’s all seated in place and perfect, he goes, “Start ‘er up!” You grin, and he backs up from the front as you hop inside and turn it over, giving it some gas until it roars. You pop out, and he goes, “Well, it hasn’t come flying off yet. So I think we did a good job.” You smile, “I think so too!” You both get closer, looking over the engine, watching the two belts spin around the pulleys. You step back, and he raises his hand up, you smile as you give him a high five, and he smiles back. You head back inside your car and turn it off. When you pop back out, he asks, “What do you say to takeout?” You blink at him, “Huh?” He tells you, “You’ve been here for almost three and a half hours and haven’t eaten. And I’m quite hungry for dinner. So, what do you say to takeout?” You shake your head, “You don’t have to-” He shakes his head back at you, “No, you’ve worked your ass off to get this thing here, and then you had to struggle with these belts. So what would you like?” You smile, “Something delicious.” He nods, “I know just the place. You get everything cleaned up, and I’ll order, okay?” You nod, “Sounds good.”

He heads to his office while you put all the tools you’ve borrowed away into their proper places. Throwing the dirty rag into a bucket for rags before heading back to your car and lifting the hood up off the prop, setting that down first before you shut the hood. You head to his office to see him bringing a chair in for you to sit on and hold your hands out, “Got anywhere to wash my hands?” He nods, “Yeah,” he moves from behind his desk and shows you to it. “Feel free to use it how you like.” You nod and give him a small, “Thanks!” You make your way back just as he’s placing the bags of food down. He hears you walking towards him and goes, “Just in time~” You smile and walk over as you figure out whose box is which.

As you eat, you think about what to say to him. When it hits you, you tell him, “You know, I thought you were an old man.” He tilts his head at you as he leans back, “Why’s that?” You laugh, “You pretty much work only on classic cars. And when you answered, I thought I was talking to the owner's son or something.” He runs his hand through his hair as his lips press together, “Oh, I hope it was a pleasant surprise.” You laugh, “Yeah, it was nice.” He smiles, and after a pause, he says, “You know, we’re a little odd?” You ask, “Why’s that?” And he tells you, “We both like working on old cars.” You shake your head, “I guess we are a little odd.” You both giggle, and he claps his hands together, which makes you laugh even harder. Finding it endearing, the words, “So cute,” slip out before you can stop them. Your eyes go wide, and you quickly look down, digging into your food, acting as if your food made you say it. You don’t see his ears turn red, but you feel his stare on you as you eat, yet he doesn’t say anything. So you figure he just brushed it off. After a few moments of silence, he says, “You know I’ve never worked on a Boss until today.” You gasp, finally looking up at him, “What about ridden in one?” He shakes his head, “Never. Only ever seen them at car shows.” You smile as you tell him, “I guess we’ll have to change that. What do you say we take my car for a test drive after this?” He grins, “I’d like that.” You eat another bite, and he asks, “What do you say to ice cream?” You smile, “I’d like that. It'll be my treat for helping me.” He smiles, “Okay, and I’ll guide you to it while you show me what your baby can do~” You grin, “Okay!”

When you’ve both finished eating, you clean up your trash and toss it in the can. He clicks the button for the garage and leads you out, “I’ll have to shut from inside, but I’ll guide you off, okay?” You nod and head to your car. Hopping in, you turn it over, checking the door is fully up before you start easing the car off the lift, looking over to the side to see him motioning you. You gulp as you hear your back tires hit the ramp, and he smiles at you, encouraging you to keep going. You get your car off the lift and onto the pavement outside and watch as the garage door shuts in front of you. He comes out of the shop with his keys in hand, and you pop the door open for him, “Hi.” He smiles, “Hi.” You watch as he sinks into the seat, his knees practically to his chest. And you both laugh before you say, “You can put the seat back.” He scoots the chair and leans it back. And with a sigh, he says, “That's a lot more comfortable.” You shake your head, still laughing, “I bet.” Making sure his seatbelt is on, you ask, “Ready?” He smirks, “Born ready.”

You reverse until you can spin it around and drive onto the main route. Instead of hearing the squealing, you hear the gentle roar of your motor. And he tells you, “It already sounds better.” You smile at him as you shift into first gear, “It does.” You smoothly transition from second to third gear as you get up to speed. He relaxes in the seat as he watches you drive, and you feel excitement as you race down the road. You pat the wheel, “That’s it, baby~” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him smiling at you, “What?” He shrugs his shoulders, “Nothing.” You ask, “You sure?” He smiles, “You just look good behind the wheel.” You blush, “Is that so?” He hums, “Yeah.” He doesn’t say anything else, and you both listen to the radio, unsure of what else to say.

You shift it into fourth as the speed limit finally reaches seventy. And he lets out a little cheer, and you grin over at him, and he asks, “How fast can it go?” You smirk, “Wanna find out?” He nods excitedly, and you check behind you to see an empty street. You look at him with a smirk before slamming down on the gas and taking off. You watch as you fly up to eighty, quickly hitting ninety. You grin as you push a hundred, “It can go faster if you’re up for it?” As you take a glimpse at him, you see his sparkling eyes, “Hell yeah!” Your grip on the wheel gets tighter as you watch the road more intensely, and just as you hit 110, you see headlights coming towards you. You ease up on the gas as you pout, “We could have hit a hundred and thirty…” Your speed quickly drops, and he says, “Well if it’s any consultation-” You look over at him as your gauge drops back down to a safe seventy, “Hmm?” He grins, putting his hand over your other hand that’s now resting on the shifter, and links his fingers through yours, “That was the coolest experience I’ve had in months!” You giggle at him, “I’m glad you enjoyed it~” He smiles as he tells you, “And we’re about an intersection from the ice cream place.” You grin, “That’s even better news!” You slow down further as you get through the intersection. You notice his hand still over yours and squeeze his fingers as you shift down. He tells you to turn left as you shift into second. With one hand, you spin the wheel left and pull into the ice cream stand. You pull in, put into park, and look at his hand. He gasps as he quickly removes it from yours, and you resist your pout until he says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was-” You shake your head, “I liked it.”

You get out of the car and offer him your hand, and he smiles as he links his hand in yours. You order your ice creams and pay for them before heading to the pickup line. You both talk quietly as you wait in front of the window. The person behind the window asks, “One cone and one sundae?” You both nod and take yours and some napkins before walking away, “Where do you want to sit?” He looks at the tree close to the car, “Underneath the tree?” You smile, “Sounds good to me.” You sit side by side underneath the tree while the sun slowly starts setting in the sky, and you ask, “So, what do you like to do for fun?” He smiles, “Watch movies and play video games.” You nod as you eat another bite of ice cream, and he asks, “What about you?” You smile as you tell him before asking, “Got any pets?” His eyes twinkle as he tells you about Bori and shows you photos of her. You grin, “She’s so cute!” He smiles, “The cutest.”

You two continue talking until you finish your ice cream. You get up together and throw away your trash. “Since you’ve never worked on one or rode in one before. Have you driven one?” He shakes his head no, and you ask, “Do you want to?” He blinks, “Seriously?” You hum before you ask, “You’ve driven a manual before, right?” He nods, and you smile as you hold your keys out to him, “I trust you.” He takes them in his hands, “You sure?” You agree as you head to the passenger side, “It’s not often I get to sit over here.” He looks at you over the roof, “Well, today’s your lucky day then.” You grimace before you say, “Overall, yeah.” He laughs, “Maybe not entirely. But how about right now?” You smirk, “It's better cause you're here.” He laughs as he sits down and shakes his head at you. He has to push the seat back again as you adjust your seat to have a straighter back. You both shut your doors and put on your seatbelts before he looks over at you and turns it over, giving it a little gas before it roars to life.

He lets up on the handbrake and engages the clutch, letting it slide into first. You watch him as he sticks his tongue out while he pulls out of the parking spot to concentrate. You giggle as you look at him, and he looks over at you and winks. You shake your head, and he pulls onto the road and shifts into second, quickly changing into third, then fourth as he gets it up to seventy. When he’s comfortable driving, no longer concentrating, you bump his hand that’s resting above the shifter. He grins over at you and takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers.

You look at your joined hands and wonder how today went from rotten to wonderful. But as you trail your eyes up to his, “It was because of you.” He gives you an odd look, “Huh?” And you smile, “You made my day go from rotten to wonderful.” He squeezes your fingers, “My day was boring before you showed up.” You laugh, “Is that because I gave you something to do?” He shakes his head, “No. It’s not often someone as pretty as you walks into my shop.” You pout, “How often is not often?” He smiles, “Well, considering I’ve only seen you once? Once.” You roll your eyes, “Smooth,” but grin as you watch the streetlights fly past you.

You let his hand go so he can shift down when you see the shop in the distance. And before your hand can completely part from his, his pinky catches yours. You giggle as he shifts with your hand still partially in his. He slows down and parks in front of the garage you were in before. When you have to get out of the car, it’s his turn to pout as he shuts off your car. “What?” You ask as you shut the door behind you, “I still want to hold your hand.” You laugh as you hold your hand out for him to take again, “Okay.” He takes your hand in his and leads you to the shop door. He unlocks it and turns the light on before walking to his desk and sitting on his shop chair.

He asks you to sit down in yours, and you do, before you ask, “So, how much do I owe you?” He looks back at you, “I don’t feel like it’s right to charge you after we just went on a date…” You roll your eyes, “Before that, I was just a regular customer.” He shakes his head, “Regular customers are old gearheads…” You laugh, “So does that make me special, or do you invite them to eat dinner with you too?” His face twists up in disgust as you cackle, “Ew…” You ask again, “Anyways, what’s the total?” He sighs, “$80…” You roll your eyes, “The real total…” He shakes his head, “I only charge $27 an hour.” “Really? Even for the parts?” He shakes his head, “I can’t charge you for them when I helped you.” You give him a confused look, “But you only helped me with one…” He shrugs, “And?” You blink at him, “Why?” He grins, “Because you’re cute.” You shake your head at him, “I don’t know how you stay in business.” He smirks, “Probably because you never came in before.” You blush, and with your free hand, you fish out your card and shove it into the card reader. “What if I want to charge you something?” He blinks at you, “What do you mean?” You grin as you ask, “A date with me on Friday?” He gives you a small smile, “I would go on a date with you for free…” You shrug, “Okay, so free of charge, what do you say to date with me on Friday?” He grins, “I’d love to.”

22 notes · View notes

cloverdaisies · 5 months

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➸ GINGERBREAD MAN ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑

DAY 1 OF TBZ ADVENT CALENDAR ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 {🧣 } ➸ description: a late night stroll through the xmas markets with boyfriend!younghoon, carols being sung in the distance, the smell of freshly baked gingerbread men and children building snowmen nearby; the feeling of christmas. ⋆⁺. ︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶ ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

➸ member: younghoon x you ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚.

➸ genre: fluff ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚.

➸ word count: 800 approx. ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚.

⋆⁺. ︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶ ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

♫ it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas, everywhere you go… ☕️ ₊❅⋆ ⛸️ ♫

Snow fell from the sky above like soft stars drifting down to the ground, glistening over the pavements as a choir all wrapped in wooly scarves sang songs of a traditional christmas with ruby red noses and jovial smiles. The bakers had lined up goods from christmas cakes to mince pies, as small businesses brewed hearty soups and sold hot chocolates to a crowd smothered in whipped cream and marshmallows.

You looked up at Younghoon, the cold air nipping at his cheeks making them glow with a shade of rosy pink as his eyes lit up with the rows of fairy lights reflecting his dark brown iris. He’d noticed you staring, turning to look at you with a smile and a laugh - his breath turning to a white smoke in the cold air.

“You put that whipped cream to shame.” He poked fun at you admiring his features, squeezing your hand in reassurance as he made the horrendous joke.

“That is possibly fighting for the worst thing you’ve ever said.” You choked on your words in shock, at just how appalling his jokes were, despite you secretly loving how cheesy they could be.

Younghoon quickly took a diversion spotting a particular small cabin-like stall amongst the rows of similar builds, selling snow globes that lit prettily. He tended to have an eye for things that were sentimental, littering your home with decorations that reminded him of your favorite times together.

“We can put this on the mantelpiece.” He smiled at one that depicted father Christmas and his reindeers flying soundly above a small village - when he shook it the houses lit up and snow whirled around the scene.

“We can!” You laughed at how cute the gesture was, he took so much pride in the mantelpiece above the log fire where he’d bought expensive frames for all your pictures and placed them all neatly divided.

Once he’d bought everything pretty he could find from each stall, picking out everything you’d looked at twice - despite you telling him not to. He took your hand and brought you to the small café that had been set up. There was a wood burner fire set up in the corner next to two armchairs, where you both sat with hot chocolate warming your hands around the sides of the ceramic material.

“So I was thinking, home alone 1 and 2 when we get back in?” Younghoon asked causing you to look up from your prettily decorated cup, you couldn’t help but noticed the dot of whipped cream sat on his nose and giggle. He looked at you confused, before you reached across to wipe it off as he chuckled in embarrassment.

“I think you’re the one that’s whipped now pal. Anddd… absolutely.” You both laughed at the joke before letting a comfortable silence fall across the scene, as you both looked at each other across the table.

He looked at you across the table with a smile, his hair parted in perfect curtains and his smile lighting up the entire room with a pure kind of joy that couldn’t easily be replicated. The blues sounds of Frank Sinatra filled the room, the blissful lyrics filling the cozy room. Everything was just perfect this year, he was perfect.

He leaned across the table gently gesturing a kiss on the lips, reminding you of how unrescuseably in love you were with him. Younghoon was your place of safety, your feeling of home. As the snow feel around you, the room filled with laughter and joy, everything just felt as if it froze in time - for just a moment as your lips touched his, light as a feather it was if the sound of a camera snapping in your mind preserving the memory forever.

At home you’d build the Christmas tree and listen to all the iconic festive tunes from over the decades, as Younghoon swayed and hummed along to the music - not forgetting to lift you up so you could put the star on the tree. You’d watch both the good home alone movies and cuddle warmly beneath the blankets until you both felt sleepy and eventually fell asleep sprawled out across the couch as the credits rolled in the background. It was moments like these that made Christmas so special. He made everything so special.

⋆⁺. ︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶ ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

a/n: hello festive daisies! it’s been a while since i’ve written some absolutely disgusting fluff & writing this made me feel so warm stg deserving of day 1 of my tbz calendar! ik very short but if im gonna survive 24 days this what we’re going for <3 enjoy!!

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sanaxo-o · 4 months

Text

One for me (Kim Younghoon)

Warnings/Genre: so the reader is very very very insecure about herself, fluff (kind off), hurt/comfort, Younghoon is there for the reader all the damn time 🥺 and yeah that’s it.

Sana: um so I just wrote this when I was very insecure about myself and just wanted to let it out because I am someone who does not know how to express her feelings to someone else despite being very close. I just needed to let these feelings out and I chose to write something about it, and to someone who feels this way I hope you know that it’s okay to feel this was but just know that there are people who are more then glad to be with you and to be your friend :) A huge thanks to @o-onikix Nara for reading this for me and then comforting me :) I love you bitch

Tagging: @cloverdaisies @mosviqu @kimsohn @deoboyznet

Word count: 1162

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

You know how you get that unwanted feeling from time to time? Like as if you were just a piece of junk and you did not deserve anything? How your stomach start churning and you feel like you wanna throw up?

That is what you were feeling right now. Everyone was out there, enjoying the time of their lives. It was the 1st of January so everyone was obviously happy, happy that now there would be a new start to their lives, maybe new year means new memories, new opportunities but it was different for you.

You were huddled up in your small corner of the room with thoughts flooding your mind, unwanted thoughts. The ones you always despise from the core of your heart because whenever they came back you would always seem to get insecure about yourself.

Hell you get insecure about everything, about the way you talk, the way your voice is, the way you look, the way you behave. It does not help the fact that you get this constant sinking feeling as if you’re not enough. As if you’re just a burden to everyone you love.

If you ask someone ‘Am I a burden?’ They will obviously say no and whisper sweet words to you, to comfort you but that won’t do anything. It won’t help the fact that you would still continue to feel that way.

Maybe some would say that you should interact with others more, maybe then you would feel this was less but that’s not how it works. Despite being surrounded by people who love and cherish you, you’re a human after all. That jealousy, where you envy others for having better relationships with people you want to get close to but never do because they’re just so hard to approach, the envy you hold for others getting close with the people you have known longer but the new person just immediately got closer to them.

This feeling was like a devil in disguise for you, it would strike you at the most random time of the day and you cannot help but let yourself get sunk into it as if you were just a mere object.

“Y/N, are you in the room love?” You heard a voice call out your name from a distance which made you snap out from your train of thoughts.

Looking up you noticed Younghoon entering the room with a soft smile on his face, a cup of hot chocolate in his hands as he walked towards you “Why are you in here all alone love? We all are out in the backyard together.” Younghoon says softly as he places the cup on the bedside table and gently enters in the warm sheets of the bed beside you.

Intertwining his hands with yours he started playing with your hair soothingly as he hummed to a song, his gentle warm voice filling the room but that did not help with the thoughts which continued running in your mind.

“I just don’t feel like going out there..” you tell him, your voice coming out small as you place your head on his shoulder before you get comfortable against him.

Hearing your answer, Younghoon looks down at you, “And why is that love? What’s bothering you?” Younghoon asks as he leans down and gives your forehead a kiss as he starts patting your head comfortingly which provides you a sense of comfort and warmth.

“I don’t know..it just feels like I don’t belong there, with you guys.” You say as a tear rolls down your cheek making you sniffle. “Like even if I disappear none of them would notice and that just sucks because I know that I am not much of an important person.” You say as you snuggle closer to Younghoon, hating the fact that he has to listen to your negative thoughts on such a special day.

“That’s not true. You’re very much important to all of us, love.” Younghoon whispers in your ear as he continues patting your head with his hands softly as he listens to you speak.

“No you don’t get it. I always get this unwanted feeling inside me suddenly and I hate it. I hate it so much. I start getting insecure about everything I do and I start feeling as if I am just a burden and I just close everyone out. I know that my true nature is just me messing around but when I get this feeling inside me, as if I am just disturbing others by my presence itself I even start questioning my behaviour. I start thinking that maybe I am crossing the boundaries by joking around too much, maybe I bully them too much with the way I behave even though I truly love them and it hurts me knowing that maybe I might have hurt them by something I said. I hate the feeling I get from time to time. It’s frustrating and because of this I cannot even get myself to socialise more. I am afraid that if I approach a person first they will get annoyed, I am afraid to even text someone first because it just feels like I am disturbing them. I hate this feeling so much.” You say as you let out a sob, “Maybe it’s just better if I don’t talk with them again because what if I hurt them? I am sorry.” You whisper the last word as you bury your face in Younghoon’s chest before you let out your sobs, not holding them in anymore.

Younghoon does not say anything as he just pats your back and gives you occasional forehead kisses. He knew that what you needed right now was just someone who would lend you an ear to listen to your worries and a shoulder to cry on and that’s what he would do.

Younghoon could feel his stomach churning the more he heard your cries but he did not know what to do, because all he knows is that this feeling is something you always experience and all he can do about it is be by your side and assure you that you deserve everything.

Pulling you closer to his body, Younghoon drapes the blanket over you and wraps you in it comfortably, “I hope you know that you’re really special to all of us. No matter what happens, there are few people out there who worry about you all the time and think about your well being.” Younghoon whispers in your ear as he picks you up from the bed, “Now come on. Everyone is waiting for your appearance out there.” Saying that Younghoon starts walking out of the room with you in his arms.

Maybe, now that you have people who are closer to you, you will finally get rid of these feelings? Maybe not, but at least you know that there is someone who is always there to comfort you.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

#the boyz #tbz #the boyz imagines #the Boyz fluff #the boyz younghoon #tbz younghoon #tbz imagines #TBZ fluff #younghoon x you #younghoon x reader #younghoon the boyz #younghoon fluff #younghoon #TBZ imagine #the boyz imagine #Kim Younghoon #Kim Younghoon x reader #Kim Younghoon fluff

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moonandsunwoo · 2 years

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tbz reaction to you still sleeping with a teddy bear

# — pairing: bf!tbz x reader

# — genre: fluff

# — warnings: none

→ this was requested. i hope you like this and it was somewhat like you hoped~

🧸 | sangyeon

he just finds it endearing, plain and simple. wouldn’t make a big deal out of it bc why would he, it’s just a plushie! and if you like to keep it around then you shall! he’s easy like that.

🧸 | jacob

would ask for its name and then give it a soft pat before going on about his day. he’d make sure you wouldn’t forget to pack it from that moment on and always double check the floor to see if it didn’t accidentally fall in your sleep.

🧸 | younghoon

his new fave thing is immediately to hold you whilst you’re holding the teddy. probably has a picture of you holding it set as his wallpaper (with your consent ofc). he just thinks it’s so cute and so soft and very much like how he perceives you

🧸 | juyeon

juyeon! would! ask! you! about! them! he wants to know if it/they (if you have more than one) have names, where you got them from, why they are so important to you ect. he would also like to contribute to the expansion of your collection if he may…👉👈

🧸 | hyunjae

he was the one who gave you the plush in question so 🤨 u better sleep with it. but don’t forget to hold him too once in a while, bestie we know he’s a soft boy

🧸 | changmin

“So THEY can stay but my chUCKY-“ prepare to argue with him about this. he demands equal rights for his horrid doll and your cutie everything else is blaspHEMY- (he’s totally cool with it, would probably get your teddy and Chucky matching outfits WAHAHA)

🧸 | chanhee

never mentioned anything to you about it. he saw it one evening and then that was it. or you thought. guesss who put the silky bowtie on it (Chanel ofc🙄) or the pearls or the hello kitty addition- yes so he was that.

🧸 | kevin

the man with the army of plushies would just love it. you can put it to his soft friends when you’re out too! for safekeeping yes. you both just have communal mountain of plushies nearly placed on the bed 💗

🧸 | haknyeon

he: 🧐🧐 I tHouGht yOu liKe hOldiNg mE- he’s absolutely joking but he’s also haknyeon so he will also be stupid about it. it’s his duty as a bf oki thanks.

🧸 | sunwoo

tease. you should smack him with a pillow perhaps. (guess who resorts to holding the plush when you’re gone hmmm ew he’s a simp for u bestie there’s no cure)

🧸 | eric

“is that yours? can I touch it?” he’s careful around it bc it must mean something to you if you have it with you when asleep! and he pats the teddy’s head when he leaves the room, every time. but shhhh that’s a secret

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oomuns · 2 years

Text

the boyz and how they take care of you

tags — fluff, ot11 x gn!reader, unedited

sangyeon always makes sure you can't hurt yourself. he covers the corners of tables with his hand when you bend down to pick something up, and the top of the car door when you get in and out of a car. he has bandaids in hand at all times ("in case of emergencies," he says.) he’d make you take off your shoes and use his instead when they become too painful to walk in. he would have one hand around you during public transport; always ready to catch you in case you fall when the ride stops abruptly.

jacob never lets you overwork yourself. he'd check up on you whenever you're holed up in your room, stressing over whatever you're working on. he would bring you food and (if it's possible, healthy) snacks so you can eat while you work. besides reminding you to drink water, he'd also make you warm drinks, like a cup of tea or hot chocolate. he'd make you go to sleep when you've been working for far too long, dragging you to bed and wrapping his arms around you. with a kiss, he'd shush your complaints and continues to hold you in his arms until you fall asleep.

younghoon loves it when you fall sleep on his shoulder. after kissing the top of your head, he’d brush strands of hair off your face so it wouldn’t bother you when you sleep. he makes other people shut up when they're being loud in case it would disturb your peaceful slumber. he’d rest his head on top of yours, with one hand smoothing over the back of your hand, further lulling you into a deep sleep. even when his arm is cramping up and his bladder his full, he wouldn't move an inch, scared of the prospect of waking you up.

even after years of dating, hyunjae still rushes to your side to open the car door for you. he insists on driving, and when he steps on the brakes, he would have one arm outstretched in front of you so you wouldn’t hit the dashboard. with a window rolled down, he’d wait for you to get inside before driving off, watching as your back disappear behind the door. he’d text you when he reaches his place, and would send a selfie of himself grinning ear to ear with a thumb's up pose to ensure you that he’s safe and sound.

to juyeon, doing household chores and other domestic things with you is only the bare minimum. coming up from behind you, he’d take things on shelves that are out of your reach. he insists on changing your bulbs for you; claiming that it’s too dangerous for you to do on your own. you and juyeon take turns on cooking duty and washing the dishes, and sometimes he would even do both without any complaint. also expect having regular laundry days with him, where he’d help you change your sheets and put clothes away.

kevin has gotten used to getting ready with you. he’d help you zip up or button your clothes when it’s hard for you to reach them by yourself. his fingers would brush your skin when he helps you put on jewelry, and it never fails to send shivers up your spine. he keeps a spare hair tie or a headband with him at all times, ready to give it to you when your hair is starting to bother you. when he takes you out to eat, he never forgets to roll up the sleeves of your shirt so it wouldn’t get stained by the food you were eating.

chanhee doesn’t share his food with just anyone, but he always offers you the first bite of his food. when you're eating together, he's open your sauce packets and refill your glass without you having to ask him to. despite his tight schedule, he always makes time to make sure you’re eating regularly and staying hydrated. and when he has no time to meet you in person, he’d send you a cryptic text message saying ‘open the door’. when you finally do, you’d be greeted by food that had been ordered by him delivered to your doorstep.

changmin never fails to keeps you comfortable. when it's cold, he'd pull you into a hug and make an attempt to wrap you in his jacket. if you ask, he'd give you his jacket (he'd complain for a bit, maybe fake a dramatic pout, but he'd still end up giving it to you). he always manages to find something to put over you when you're asleep so you can stay warm. he would also wipe your face with micellar water whenever you forget to do so, careful not to wake you up as he drags the cotton pad across your face.

everyone knows that haknyeon is a gentleman. he knows the sidewalk rule; he moves you so that he would walk on the side closer to the road. he's also careful to walk right next to you when you cross roads, and he's always on the side where the cars are approaching. he holds open every door for you, smiling sweetly before motioning for you to go through the door first. when he's alone with you, he tries his best to give you his undivided attention, only every so often checking his phone for important messages.

sunwoo is always discreet when it comes to taking care of you. you never notice, but he's always watching you from across the room, ready to save you from whatever situation you're in whenever you start to show signs of discomfort. he stops you from picking on your scars and lips by wrapping his hand around your wrist, or better yet, he'd lace your fingers with his and kiss the back of your hand. after eating, he'd wordlessly wipe the corners of your lips and clean your hands with tissue, even when it seems like his attention isn't on you.

eric wants you to know that you can rely on him. he never lets you carry anything heavy, so he's often found with your bag on his shoulder and the results of your shopping spree gripped tightly in his other hand. he always picks you up on every date; opening the front door would reveal eric grinning with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. he also walks you to the front door when he's taking you home, not forgetting to hug you tightly and kiss your hairline before he leaves.

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ikeuverse · 1 year

Text

always surprising | younghoon

tbz!younghoon x fem!reader

gender: fluff, maybe funny

warnings: none in this chapter

wc: 1776

notes: my soul connection sent me some pictures of younghoon and asked me to write something. ok, that's not even close to the plot i thought (i want to improve on this next time) but i decided to post this today because my mind thought of something cute and for a sunday end, this is super cozy. hope you like it!

✧ m.list ✧

Being in a relationship with Kim Younghoon was wonderful and consequently having surprises throughout the days, weeks and even months.

You could tell you had gotten used to some unusual request from the guy after work, or simply when he got home and saw him with a backpack on his shoulders on Friday night.

“Let's go to the beach this weekend” he would smile so excited that you could only laugh.

“But Hoon…”

"I already arranged what we need, you just agree".

It was impossible to say no. Even because he always had the best ideas and you, a girlfriend without much creativity and much love in your heart, agreed with everything he proposed to do. And this went on for six long years. Walking through the city streets at night with a coffee in your right hand and Youngoon's fingers intertwined with yours on your left hand.

Seeing the guy rent a motorbike and put the helmet on his head after he swore he knew how to ride it - with some lessons given by Sunwoo, but he didn't want you to know that as he was about to climb on the pillion.

“What if I fall from here?” Younghoon's fingers went through the clasp of the helmet to make sure it was securely fastened on his head.

"You won't" he laughed, kissing your lips sweetly right after "Just hold me tight around my waist, you can squeeze me because I won't let go of you."

When had he gotten so bold with words? Because Younghoon's attitudes were always surprising.

With so many things he did, even the beachside proposal with Jacob playing guitar as the soundtrack – the last minute song because Younghoon had forgotten his boom box, everyone had had too much to drink and Bae was the only one sober to to be able to help with the surprise – but even so, you had loved. And once again Kim Younghoon doing everything for you.

So many things that you felt like the luckiest woman in the world just to have someone like Hoonie by your side. And yet, inevitably, negative thoughts plagued your mind. If he does everything for you, how about giving back? You could do something at least once since he's always done so much. Being up front at least once and giving your – now – husband a surprise was the bare minimum after years of relationship.

And it was with that in mind that you wanted to surprise him before the guy left work. Not that you had never done anything for Younghoon in those years, but compared to him, his work in surprising was nothing short of paltry! He had the best ideas and was always one step ahead, so this time it had to be you. It was your turn to be there waiting for him with a cardboard holder with his favorite coffee while the cell phone application beeps, confirming the purchase of tickets for tonight's cinema. A movie away from home, something different before going back to the apartment and making dinner together. Maybe a recipe you had saved on the internet and he helped you measure the ingredients… Cooking with Younghoon always ended up in mess and lots of love. You wanted it that night.

Just didn't count on the rain that had formed.

"Shit. A thousand times shit” your voice cursed along with lightning as the droplets started hitting your hair. Your biggest struggle was trying to protect the coffees you had bought since hadn't brought an umbrella. But also, a lot of time buying movie tickets didn't have a minute left to see how the weather would be that end of the day?

“Come on Hoon, I hope it won't take long to leave…” the voice low and huddled in the corner of the only establishment across the street that had enough coverage that the coffee wouldn't get wet, at least. Your hair could dry in the movie theater bathroom, that was the least of her problems.

If not for the cell phone vibrating.

What if the following message wasn't from Younghoon.

I hope I'm seeing things, you thought to yourself looking through the notification bar of a screen with raindrops.

I'm on my way home, baby. I hope you're waiting for me with the bed really warm.

What? He was… Going home? So Younghoon had already left work without having seen you up front, how was that possible? Either he had left too early or he really hadn't seen you huddled against the rain and kissed goodbye to two cups of coffee that practically didn't exist anymore.

You didn't know if you were really crying or if the rain had already taken care of wetting you all over, just bothering to throw the coffee away and head home. You weren't sad with Younghoon, ever, but with yourself for not paying attention to the details of the weather. Like it was going to rain and you even saw it? It wasn't possible that nothing in the sky had indicated a – near – storm.

The way to your apartment was never so long and painful. You dragged yourself all the way with heavy and wet clothes, slight sniffles from the crying that did not stop coming out. How to explain to him what had happened? Because your cell phone had four calls from Younghoon, no doubt wanting to know where you were in the rain if not the apartment you two shared.

Your breath hitched in a sigh as you exited the elevator and walked the long steps to the front door of where you two lived. There he was, and no doubt with a worried look waiting for you.

"Sweetheart? Oh my God, what happened?" Younghoon ran out of the kitchen to meet you as soon as you arrived. When he took the bag off your shoulders and tried to help you undress with your coat, you collapsed. The crying came stronger accompanied by a few sobs “Are you okay? Tell me what happened, please.”

In addition to helping you take off all your wet clothes, he wouldn't stop hugging you. Little did he care if he got wet too. Younghoon didn't want to let go of you until you heard your voice, which came as a whisper.

“I don't know how to do anything right” you said between the bending of his neck in the middle of the tight hug that your husband didn't want to let go of.

“Don't say that” Younghoon stopped you then, pulling away to see your face closer. In a second he had already wiped away your tears and managed to dry your face with the sleeve of the dress shirt he was wearing “Was it at work? Did they tell you something that wasn't nice?"

“I just wish… I just wish…” you tried to take a deep breath and not cry even more after Younghoon rested his forehead on yours. Both breaths mingling with the intention that his calm breathing would make yours calm as well. And it had worked for a while, you stopped crying long enough to finish saying "I wanted to surprise you."

“Surprise for me?” Younghoon kept his eyes closed, his thumbs cupping your cheekbones to caress the icy skin freshly wet from tears and rain.

“I went to your work, bought coffee and tickets for the movie you said you wanted to see last week” your hands roamed Younghoon's long and strong arms, slowly sliding until you found his hands on your face “Just I forgot to see that today it was going to rain and I didn’t take an umbrella.”

“Oh baby” he chuckled softly, stopping the second he heard you cry again “Hey, don't cry…”

“I just wanted to surprise you once” a low sob “Because in years you've always done everything for me and I just wanted… Once… Damn…”

“Y/n, sweetheart” was a low blow when he called you that, you know, but giving in to the charms of the man in front of you was practically earned when he kissed your lips with such affection “You amaze me every day for the simple fact of existing.”

"What?"

“Seriously” he pulled back a little to get a better look at you “Surprise me by texting during the day to see how I'm doing. Or surprise me with my decorated snack jars, always with a little message for lunch” he smiled broadly “Do you think anyone over there has such a devoted wife?” you couldn't deny it, indeed.

“I just wanted to do something different like you do every week for both of us.”

“But I only do it to repay how amazing you are to me every day, without even measuring any effort” if Younghoon had to conquer you every day, the highest peak of today would be now, with that intense look on your face direction “You've done everything for me since the first day we met. And when you gave me that box of grape juice, I promised myself that I would do everything to surprise you every day for the rest of my life. Or I would be crazy not to.”

“You're really crazy” your hands palmed Younghoon's chest lightly, sliding down the collar of his shirt as he pulled you by the waist against your body.

"For you? Of course” he smiled before sliding his lips close to yours “But you really surprised me today, much more than cinema and coffee.”

"What? Why did I take a rain shower?” you laughed for the first time after the little disaster that had happened. Younghoon vehemently denied, squeezing his fingers around your waist more intensely.

“Because I never thought that being soaked in rainwater and wearing formal clothes would look so much more attractive than you already are” you wanted to pinch that nose and pinch that cute little mole it had just for making your cheeks burn. And before you could say anything else, Younghoon kissed your lips so softly that you wouldn't even have time to complain when he picked you up in his arms “And after a shower in the rain, we need to take a shower so we don't catch a cold. Even because you wet me too, don't you think?"

You looked at the wet chest covered by the dress shirt, knowing that it wasn't intentional, but at the same time how attractive he had been just straining his muscles by having you in his arms.

“Then take me to the bath, Kim Younghoon.”

“At your service, Kim Y/n” he kissed you one more time before walking to your shared room.

#younghoon au #younghoon fluff #younghoon x reader #younghoon x you #kim younghoon au #kim younghoon fluff #the boyz au #tbz au #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #younghoon scenarios #younghoon fic #younghoon headcanons #the boyz headcanons

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milkybonya · 2 years

Text

you're doing so good _ 김영훈

❕️생일축하해,영훈아❕️

❕️happy birthday, Younghoon❕️

#: highschool!au, boba shop!au, fluff, <1k words

summary: it's your first day at your after-school, part-time job and you mess up, but Younghoon is there to tell you that you're doing well :>

[💌: i never write for idol birthdays but i wanted to try doing that,, and then i remembered so late that it was Younghoon day ! enjoy this inspired by by own boba shop training antics <3 and happy birthday, Younghoon!]

you blink at the cash register screen, finger hovering over it while your mouth is slightly agape.

"i'm so sorry, just give me a second," you tell the handsome boy in front of you, who happens to be wearing your school uniform, as you try to find where the hell 'taro milk tea' is on the system.

failing to find it, you excuse yourself and ask your supervisor to help you.

"excuse them, it's their first day on the job," your supervisor tells the boy, who nods with a reassuring smile.

once you find the 'taro milk tea' button, you look up at the boy again and ask him which toppings he wanted.

"it was pearls in the milk tea, right?" you confirm.

"that's right!"

"regular sugar and ice?"

"less ice, 50% sugar," he clarifies.

you nodand then spend another 5 minutes trying to punch that in.

"i'm really sorry," you mumble.

the boy shakes his head and waves his arms around, his hair neatly flowing from side to side.

"don't be sorry, it's okay! you're doing so good. boba orders can get so complex," the boy says

"thank you.. and here's your order number!" you say before handing him his receipt.

he thanks you before taking it and waiting to the side, and you manage to catch a glimpse of his nametag before you look at the cup you're reaching for.

Kim Younghoon.

that's right, the school's angel! a lot of people crush on this boy, and you know now that it's for good reason. he's just as nice as he looks!

once your coworkers finish preparing the drink, you take it out of the sealing machine, dry it and call out Younghoon's nunber.

"number 29, taro milk tea!"

he waves his receipt at you, taking the drink with a smile. suddenly, you stop him.

"just a second," you say.

you don't even know what you're doing, acting on a whim like this as you write your number on the side of his cup in sharpie. it makes you feel flustered as your heart races but also somewhat proud.

you're making a move on your school's most popular boy. well... it would be a lie to say you didn't crush on him even the tiniest bit before this.

"thank you for being my first customer," you say shyly, handing him the drink.

"it was my pleasure. really, you're doing so good," he responds before taking the drink and leaving.

once he's gone, you give your attention to the next customer, not feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket just moments later.

Younghoon saves your number to his phone the second he leaves the boba shop.

???: hi, this is Younghoon

???: i don't know when you'll see this, but you're doing so good and good luck for the rest of today!

???: i hope you won't give up or feel discouraged

???: you'll be seeing me around a lot more often to cheer you on :)

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cafeseoulmate · 1 year

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{11:11 PM}

exes au; wc: 577

The dance floor inside the reception hall should mostly be empty by now, judging by how ABBA’s Dancing Queen’s played for the sixth time time now before being followed by a muffled announcement from the DJ and a string of slower songs.

While you and Younghoon wait for your shared Uber to arrive on the orange-tinted sidewalk, many of the remaining guests from both the bride’s and the groom’s sides have also passed by in pairs, solos, and groups over the past 15 minutes, bidding the two of you goodnight before heading to the parking lot across the beachside events place where your best friend and Younghoon’s college roommate just got married.

It’s also nearing midnight on your gold watch, the only accessory of yours in the blue and silver Maid of Honor ensemble you’ve been put in today, and the tiredness is starting to catch up on you despite all of the iced coffees and wine glasses you’ve drank since yesterday.

What an eventful 48 hours it’s been. While it’s been undeniably fun, meeting your friends and watching your own best friend finally get married to the love of her life in the colorful island of Jeju, you’re also excited to just go back to your hotel and sleep the rest of your work leave off.

“Y/N?” Younghoon suddenly speaks before you doze off, gently nudging the back of your hand with his own.

You hum, blinking twice before looking up to meet his gaze under the streetlights. After two days of running around to do last-minute errands and standing next to one of his closest friends at the altar, he’s endearingly boyish in his slightly crinkled navy suit and tie and messy brown hair.

And when you trail down to his hand, it’s outstretched now towards you with his palm facing upwards.

“Let’s dance.” He offers, more as a statement than a question.

The rational answer is to say no. Though you’ve been civil with him throughout the entire six months of making your friends’ wedding happen and spent most of the actual ceremony and the reception by his side today, the wedding’s technically over now and, as you’ve previously agreed on, you should return to how things were.

But then, you’re also not even supposed to be sharing the Uber you booked with him, not when another groomsman staying in the same hotel also offered two hours earlier.

So you heave a sigh under your breath and place your hand on his, letting him guide your other free hand up to his shoulder before resting his on your waist.

“One last dance.” You warn, feeling silly already after having said the exact same three words at least a dozen times previously.

He nods, intertwining your fingers together and pulling you close. “One for the road.”

In the distance, the very last song of the night plays muffled but Younghoon sways you to the beat effortlessly—just like how he used to in your kitchen.

And it could really just be the tiredness of your hectic 48 hours but you make the bold move of resting your head on his chest, closing your eyes as soon as you manage to isolate the sound of his heartbeat from all the ambient sounds around you.

You’re not supposed to, you know as much, but just for this short moment as your Uber takes an unusually long time to arrive, you let yourself think that he’s in love with you again as much as you still are with him.

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juyeonszn · 5 months

Text

BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU’RE INVITED!

PAIRING tbz x f!reader

GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒minimal angst ﹒crack

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mature language, mentions of alcohol, sexual content, more warnings per individual fic!

SUMMARY have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? if so, then these fics are just for you! join us as we take a glimpse into the tau beta zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE LETS GAURRRRR i’m so excited to announce this collab with loml reese both as a cute fun little idea we had and in celebration of her 1 year tumblr anniversary! we also realized it happened to be the same day as tbz day LOL so that’s kinda crazy 😭 my boyz have been here for 6 years wow 💔 anyways i hope all of u love these as much as we do! and always, don’t forget to rb if u enjoyed!! send an ask if u’d like to be tagged in these <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of school work for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

“FRIENDLY” COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O’CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 1/1, PT. 2 1/3)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

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itsbeeble · 5 months

Text

BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU'RE INVITED!

PAIRINGS: tbz x f!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, minimal angst, crack

WARNINGS: smut, minor angst, fluff, mentions of injuries, alcohol, swearing, more warnings to be added to the individual fics 18+ MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

SUMMARY: Have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? If so, then these fics are just for you! Join us as we take a glimpse into the Tau Beta Zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE: The way me and Fawn have been planning this for so long omgggg. Me and Fawn are so excited to announce this collab in celebration of my 1 year on tumblr, 6 year anniversary of The Boyz, AND as just a fun little event!! I hope you guys are as excited for this as I am hehe. And please feel free to send an ask or comment on this post if you'd like to be tagged in each part!!

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

"FRIENDLY" COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

PARTY O'CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 | PT. 2)

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sungbeam · 2 months

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nonidol!kim younghoon x f!reader

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OF ALL THE COSMIC COINCIDENCES

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He decided for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That drew a laugh from you. “Ditto.”

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

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

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

“Okay, that’s fair.”

He laughed. “Gotcha.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You missed it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you are disappointed,” you countered pointedly.

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

“What is it?” You prompted.

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

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

“Not with that attitude,” he shot back.

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

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

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

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

“I do.”

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

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

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

EPISODE TWO: PASS GO & COLLECT TWO HUNDRED

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe she was the real mastermind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, to be him right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“BECAUSE YOU DON'T!”

“NEITHER DO YOU!”

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

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

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

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

Haknyeon blinked with his eyes wide. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” you smiled back. “Tired?”

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

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

“Dunno,” he shrugged.

“Long week?”

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

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

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

“You forgot?” You offered.

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

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

“Even when I ask dumb questions about factoring?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He melted at the action. “I do.”

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

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

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

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

“Formulaic?” You offered.

Younghoon frowned. “You know this one?”

“I enjoy guessing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don't know that,” you muttered.

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

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

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

“How?” You humored him amiably.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE THREE: DO AS THE PHYSICISTS DO

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

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

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

Dear god, it was coming back to him now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed. “No way.”

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

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

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

“You're welcome,” you said simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He perked up curiously. “Grant app?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No clue.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed, telling him you couldn't wait.

EPISODE FOUR: TRAINS GO BOOM?

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

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

You tasted the rejection a mile out.

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

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

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

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

He stopped shaking you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Wedding made you anxious.

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

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

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

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

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

“Down in the engineering buildings?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed, nodding. “I get that.”

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

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

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

“Mhm.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Next Friday,” you grimaced.

He blinked. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

“You are a lifesaver.”

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

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

“Overstimulation?” He offered sympathetically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Younghoon wheezed. “What?”

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

“Yn.”

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

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

Your eyes shuddered in a blink. “Huh?”

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

“Yeah?”

“Come with me to see the kids?”

“Okay.”

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

EPISODE FIVE: TO INFINITY & BEYOND

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, definitely not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, I’ll be by at say… 7?”

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

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

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

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

“You are great with kids.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bye, Hoon!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This year was dubbed a balcony year.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We have an astronomy tower?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You're the center of my universe.”

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

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

“I’m walking home, Younghoon.”

“You can try, sunshine.”

EPISODE SIX: THE ONE WHERE IT GETS WORSE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

Oh, you wished.

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

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

“Sam's in Vietnam in December.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Yn.”

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

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

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

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

“Hit me with it.”

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

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

“I know,” you cried.

“Who are you bringing then?”

“I don't know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE SEVEN: PARTY PEOPLE (BBANGNYU'S VERSION)

“CHANHEE?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You're not inviting me, are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh? Oh, my best friend.”

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

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

“Younghoon?”

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

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

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

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

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

Younghoon perked up. “What's up?”

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

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

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

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

“Wait, really?”

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

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

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

“So you wanna meddle?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you believe Hyunjae?”

“Touché.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I meant Yn.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oops.”

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

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

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

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

“You know, I think it's cute, too.”

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

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

You shook your head. “Not this again.”

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

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

“Not you, too!”

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

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

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

“But you're not doing it.”

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

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

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

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

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

You accepted the call. “Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don't say the joke.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened. “What?”

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

“Younghoon, hey! Don't hang—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—Yn. Yn-iee—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, are you guys watching something together?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kissed him?

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

your phone: how do u know u like a guy

kkuramon <3 : IM LEAVING THIS PARTY RIGHT NOW.

EPISODE NINE: ARE YOU A CHICKEN, YN? I DIDN'T THINK SO!

“I'M not going to tell him.”

“Yn,” Sakura said gravely with a deep inhale, “for the last time, are you a chicken?”

You blinked. “I'm sorry, wha—”

“Bawk bawk. Are you a chicken?”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at her. It was a crazy image, this view of your best friend, as she stood in front of you with her futuristic spacecore outfit from the Halloween party she left early, squawking like a chicken. “I think you are drunk.”

Sakura deadpanned. “I'm not drunk.”

“And I'm in denial.”

“Oh, good. So you admit it.”

After rapid discourse in your texts, you went to pick Sakura up from her party, then brought her straight home so you could both deconstruct what exactly you concluded while at the convenience store. You recalled everything that happened while Younghoon was there with you, reliving that exact moment it hit you square in the face like an oncoming train.

And now you were here, being asked if you were a chicken and being accused of denial.

You huffed. “I can't just tell him that I like him! It's not—it’s not that big of a deal. It's not like I'm in love with him or anything!” You… you weren't in love, were you…?

Sakura braced both hands on her hips. “You say it's not a big deal, but here we are,” she said with a vague gesture to your bedroom. “Honey,” she continued, but softer, “whether you're in love with him or you just like him more than a friend, it's something. It's different. Are you sure you never felt anything for him before? Not even unconsciously?”

“I mean—” you started, “—I might have. I probably have,” you corrected, cradling your chin in your palm. “I thought he was really cool when I met him last year, but I think that was just one of those silly crushes, y'know? Like the ones you get on people you pass by and know you probably won't meet again?”

She hummed and lowered herself onto the edge of your bed. “Yeah, I get that.”

You scooted your desk chair over to where she was and flopped face first over your bed with a groan. You felt her hand gently smooth down the back of your head. “I dunno, Kkura. Maybe I've always felt something different about him.”

“That could be it,” she said. “And you just didn't realize until it was in your face. Sometimes it sneaks up on you.”

If that wasn't the understatement of the century.

“Why are you so scared of telling him, Yn-ie? From everything I've seen and heard from you, it feels like he probably feels the same way.”

“I'm biased.”

Sakura exhaled. “Logic your way out of this one.”

“Okay, if I logic my way out of this one, I could still get rejected.”

You could feel her eyes roll, even with your face smooshed into the sheets. “I know the prospect of all this is scary, but it's meant to be. That means you care, Yn. That means you care about your friendship with Younghoon, and that's inherently a good thing.”

When you didn't say anything else in response, she added, “You know your feelings will intensify if you leave them unaddressed. Murphy's Law.”

You hated when she was right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened. “Oh? Any updates?”

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

“No,” you gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Hoon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I never saw that one,” you confessed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Younghoon's eyes widened. “Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

Younghoon blinked. “What business—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And we lost him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Flowers could soften the blow,” suggested Juyeon.

Kevin chuckled. “For him or for Yn?”

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

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

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

“Pssh,” Juyeon laughed, “try me.”

EPISODE ELEVEN: THE USUAL TIME & PLACE

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

And you did… eventually.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I try,” he jested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled, “Sounds good, thank you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do these mean?” You asked.

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

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

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

It made you smile anyway.

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

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

“Wow,” you said.

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

You blinked. “Do indulge me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“They are,” you agreed.

“Like you.”

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

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

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

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

“You don't need to get me flowers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed. “What's that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had all the world right here.

a/n: tumblr fcking hates me and my dialogue, confirmed. anyways, pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! for now, i'll see u in hot commodity!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @sunramzi @deobi0412 @kflixnet

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zzoguri · 4 months

Text

[part one] the perfect pair ➵ “ew, is that sunwoo over there? 저리 꺼져.”

esports player!kim sunwoo x esports player!reader

being a woman in the esports league is hard, but dealing with cocky kim sunwoo is unmatched. with the valorant champions tour about to commence, you two are forced to team up to retrieve the trophy. what will be tested—team morale or your patience around sunwoo?

chapter genre/warnings ➵ enemies to lovers, afab reader (they/them pronouns), slow burn, slight angst, crack, sexual tension, misogynistic & sexist remarks and behaviors, sunwoo is such an annoying teammate... retired ow player now val player…, rush gets introduced YIPPEE, sunwoo gets jealous...?, bets are made, a lot of gamer lingo (check the guide & visual aids!)

word count ➵ 10.5k words

parts ➵ check out the series masterlist

a/n ➵ it's out! felt a lil pressured by the number of notes i wont lie! i hope u guys enjoy this along with the visual aid <3 special shoutout to @shegotthewoobies @vernyangel @heemingyu @deobienthusiast for beta reading <3 much love to you all <3 esp to ki who made the usernames <3 if you enjoyed reading, do reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

HYST wins VCT’s Game Changers By Bae Sumin

HYST takes the title as the winner of the Valorant Championship Tour (VCT) Game Changers in Los Angeles, USA against defending champion 88RR. The team took over the playing field, showcasing their astounding teamwork and tactful gameplays, and won 3-1 in a best-of-five series.

Since the first match on Bind, players Ailurus (Y/N) and bokku (Miyawaki Sakura) demonstrated their chemistry through their formidable performance as Omen and Yoru respectively. Their alliance was enough for their opponents to avoid one-on-one battles.

Rising player Ppiya (Hong Eunchae) secures her position as one of the most impressive duelists to come from this year’s VCT. In all of the matches played, Ppiya secures at least one kill per round, placing her 3rd in the leaderboards out of all players in the event.

In their second match on Ascent, remarkable sentinel players CHUU (Kim Jiwoo) and subakhye (Son Hyeju) built solid defense systems and dealt with flanks with ease. They can adjust their setups accordingly as they observe their opponents’ playstyle.

Although their exceptional performance in Game Changers makes its mark in VCT history, Ailurus only hopes that they are given more opportunities to engage in such tournaments. “I am happy [about our win], but I hope that the [VALORANT] esports scene sees us more than just winners [of Game Changers]. I want to be seen as a remarkable player regardless of gender,” they share.

Despite HYST participating in VCT for the past two years, this is their first championship win. In last year’s VCT, the organization met its defeat in VALORANT Challengers through their other roster consisting of players bae (Jacob Bae), nuguri (Kim Sunwoo), Darong (Lee Jaehyun), gyulz (Ju Haknyeon), and Maize (Lee Juyeon).

Both teams are under the guidance of Coach bori (Kim Younghoon), a retired VALORANT and League of Legends pro player.

These turn of events displayed HYST’s dedication to improvement and VALORANT. Many followers hope to see more of the reigning champions of Game Changers.

ROUND 1: “WELCOME TO MY WORLD!”

The moon radiates tonight, its white gleam accompanied by speckles amidst the sea of black. Now would be the perfect moment to take some time to yourself; get in more hours of sleep, or pick up a book you’ve been putting off. Instead…

“Hi, everyone! It’s been a while,” you greet your viewers through the webcam.

The monitor shines on you, colors of blue and violet painting your skin. On the wall behind you is a shelf filled with memorabilia; medals from small competitions along with trophies from bigger tournaments.

“I know it’s a little late here, but I was itching to play some matches.” Your eyes glide through your stream’s chat. Many viewers are ecstatic to have you back on Twitch while others question your late hours of streaming.

jseollie: even after game changers?? CRAZY! bboppull: GRIND NEVER STOPS 💪💪💪 bookeucutie: tell us abt vct!!!

A chuckle leaves you as you open up Valorant. “I really enjoyed my time in VCT! I met some of my favorite players like Lorri from Evil Genius, sonder from Shopify, even Version1’s MeL.”

You lean back on your chair as you recall the event. “I won’t lie, I was very nervous about going against 88RR, which, by the way, is a lovely team. We met up for drinks after.” You scratch the back of your neck as you try to go through what your chat says.

“I remember talking to Kura about it since the semifinals, and she had to give me a constant pep talk.” The memory of Sakura knocking sense into you after every match makes you laugh.

As you dish to your viewers about your experience throughout Game Changers, you read their comments. Many of your viewers were happy with your revelation of the teams' bonds with each other. “Yeah, we’re competitive but we’re here with the same dreams, so I think it did help us form some kind of connection. I was able to exchange contacts with Sunmi and Taeyeon as well. I told them that whenever they decide to come back to Korea, they should give me a call.”

ajiajibee: is the trophy with you? ghanadara: i think it’s beside the picture frame

“Oh, I don’t get to keep it. It’s back in the headquarters,” you say as you slightly swivel your chair to the side. “That picture frame, however,” you point at your shelf, “is my certificate. That way, we all have something to bring home.”

You adjust your chair before smiling at the camera. “Anyway, I’m really happy that our practice paid off. It was an honor to even participate and meet other players.”

Most of the reactions were positive ones; congratulations and desires to see your team play together for more events. Yet, regardless of your achievements, there’s constantly a handful of negative ones.

hwithefool: Cant believe you won game changers. Ur not even that good. hwithefool: didn’t even get to champs L honeycube: boosted ass universefactory deleted hwithefool’s message. universefactory deleted hwithefool’s message. universefactory deleted honeycube’s message. hwithefool is now banned from this chat. Reason: Being rude honeycube is now banned from this chat. Reason: Being rude

Thankfully, your moderators were there to take control of such—but you’ll always know what people think of you.

“Anyway, for today’s stream, I’ll be playing with Juhak and Hyeju!” You exclaim as you switch scenes, now showing the Valorant lobby. “We’re going to play on our alt accounts for today, so it should be fun.”

real_juhaknyeon: LFGGGGG goated team rubyvobo: we get nom, jeorge porkwell, AND hyejuseyo?? We win today sunwooluver: what about nuguri?? he’s solo queuing right now rubyvobo: OFHEJSHSJJSKS I LOVE YOU GUYS sunwooluver: WILL NUGURI JOIN??

One of the few perks that comes with being an established streamer is that you could ignore comments, pretending you never saw them, and you’d get away with it; people just didn’t need to talk about it all together and you’d be fine.

So when you invite Haknyeon and Hyeju to your party, you continue talking to your chat about today’s stream. “We’re not going to play ranked today, I think?” You hum for a moment, going through the agenda in your head. “Well, we might, but I have no clue. It depends on what they want.”

Before you can continue with your rambles, your phone vibrates on your desk. Once you grab it, you notice that text messages from Kim Younghoon, the coach of the organization, have come your way.

coach bbang 🍞: hi y/n! don’t forget to remind your teammates about tomorrow’s meeting for vct ☺️ coach bbang 🍞: and gl with your stream tonight! y/n: teewai coach :DD see u tomo

“Sorry about that!” You put your phone away and give your full attention to your monitor. Hyeju and Haknyeon already joined your party, and you spot that they’re in a voice channel on the HYST’s Discord server. “Before I go join VC with the others, I just wanted to say thank you for supporting me and the others in Game Changers. It was a fun but tough competition, and I wouldn’t be here without you guys.”

Although your job did start as a hobby, you continued to persevere through such hardships thanks to your support systems; your teammates and viewers alike. You only ever considered going pro thanks to two friends. Unfortunately, time has its way of making you drift apart from them; you hope you can go face-to-face against them one day if the universe willed for it.

“Anyway, let’s have some good games!”

“I tuned in to your stream last night, Y/N,” Eunchae starts. “That losing streak is insane.”

You sigh, shoulders down as you walk dejectedly. “Don’t even get me started. Our randos were ass and wouldn’t stop talking shit.” You look at your younger friend who only pouts as you recap the events of last night. “I know you would always enter and clear sites for us, my Manchae.”

With your arm wrapped around her shoulder, her expression shifts into a smile. “I mean, that’s the least I can do as your duelist.”

“Well, not everyone seems to know that.”

The HYST headquarters is a three-story infrastructure whose interior resembles corporate buildings; the furniture is mostly of sleek leather and dark-stained wood. Monotone linoleum tiles and off-white walls stretch throughout the building.

As soon as you both arrive in front of the meeting room, you swing the doors open, revealing Sakura, Hyeju, and Jiwoo who sit together on one side of the conference table. You and Eunchae rush to them, exchanging greetings and embraces.

“Do you always play Valorant?” Jiwoo directs the question to you, referencing your stream last night with Hyeju and Haknyeon, to which you roll your eyes.

“No, I just had the itch to play!” You take a seat in between Sakura and Jiwoo. “Plus, I’ll take any opportunity to make some money.”

The doors swing open. “Hi, everyone. It’s nice to see you all,” Younghoon greets your team before walking to the whiteboard situated in the corner of the room.

The organization’s general manager, Lee Sangyeon, trails behind him, a smile painting his face as he takes a seat at the end of the table. “I’ll say this again, but good work in Game Changers.”

“Thanks, Sangyeon,” Sakura expresses her gratitude on behalf of the team. “We wouldn’t have been able to win without your help along with Younghoon’s.”

He shakes his head, trying to play it off. “No, I’m just here to make sure you guys get to participate, you know? Just want to make sure that you guys get recognized.”

Silence settles. The squeaking from Younghoon's marker is faint but loud enough to capture your attention. Although his figure covers most of what’s written on the whiteboard, you catch sight of a few gamer tags—Ailurus and bae.

Before you can decipher the other words, the doors open. “Hi, guys!” Haknyeon enters the room with all smiles. “Hello Game Changers winners,” he bows his head, making you chuckle.

His teammates, Jacob and Juyeon, trail behind him, relaxed expressions resting on their faces. “Congrats on the win,” Jacob shakes hands with everyone on your team. “That one play on Ascent went crazy, by the way.” His praise is directed towards you, and you try to play it cool.

“Ah, it was nothing. Just got lucky.”

“If I was in your situation, I probably wouldn’t have secured that round,” Juyeon chimes in as he takes a seat beside his teammates. The three boys sit across from your team.

Haknyeon smacks Juyeon’s arm, laughing at his words. “Yeah! Remember that one round in Breeze?” Juyeon only rolls his eyes while his teammates recap the events for your team.

You don’t really interact with Haknyeon’s team (or Jacob’s team if you were going to follow formalities), just the occasional greetings and small talk if you were going to be honest. It’s not like you didn’t want to be friends with them; there aren't enough opportunities to bond when you all have different schedules, let alone priorities. But you did enjoy their team's presence, and every interaction with them is one you hope may bring your team closer to theirs.

Except for one player.

“Sorry, we’re late!” Hyunjae enters the room with an apologetic smile. “Someone decided to sleep in.”

“Not true! Hyunjae’s lying.”

The room starts to grow dimmer, almost as if life were sucked out of it. Only you seemed to see it, never the others. There he is—the only exception.

He’s dressed in an oversized graphic tee layered on top of a white long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black baggy jeans. His hair shows its soft curls, clearly indicating that he’s the one lying.

A playful pout rests on his lips as he tries to continue his defense. Yet, when he locks eyes with you, he holds back. A scowl now paints his face.

If you follow esports, then you would know who Kim Sunwoo is—an established pro player who switched from Overwatch to Valorant. At first, many people were confused by his choice, throwing away years invested into a different game. Yet, it seemed that he didn’t care about what others had to say as he signed with HYST a few months after he started playing Valorant.

Within that time frame, he was able to impress Younghoon and Sangyeon with his gameplay. After all, Valorant and Overwatch required different playstyles. It was easy for him to become big in the Valorant pro scene, as you would like to say, for he made use of his existing fame.

He’s adored by many people who follow the pro scene; audience and players alike. You, however, seemed to think differently.

You shift your gaze to Younghoon, silently hoping that the meeting will commence. As if he heard your thoughts, he says, “No worries. Go, take your seats.”

Unfortunately, Hyunjae opts to sit across from Eunchae, leaving one vacant seat across from you.

Sunwoo sits on the chair as a dejected sigh leaves him, causing you to roll your eyes while you keep your gaze away from him. All you need to do is get through the meeting and you won’t have to face him for a while.

“Thank you everyone for coming here today,” Younghoon starts as he faces all of you. The whiteboard behind him has now been flipped, and the gamer tags are now hidden. “Uh, before we get into the agenda for today’s meeting, let’s congratulate the winners of Game Changers!”

Applause erupts from everyone who didn’t participate in that competition, but your eyes don’t miss how slow the boy across you claps, almost as if he wasn’t impressed.

“Now, we can get to the point of today’s meeting.” Younghoon steps to the side, revealing the text written—VCT GAMEPLAN with irregular shapes surrounding it. “We all know that VCT is around the corner, a few months from now, which means we’ve got to start our preparations.”

“Normally, we would’ve gone straight to strategizing and having you guys,” your coach looks at the team across you, “practice, but Sangyeon and I have agreed on doing things differently this year.” He flips the board, revealing everyone’s gamer tags. “We’re changing the roster.”

Many players are caught off-guard by Younghoon’s announcement. It’s not usual for a roster change to take place, especially with only a few months left before qualifiers commence.

“We know that not everyone may want to participate in the upcoming VCT, and I’ve spent weeks trying to configure what’s the best roster to represent HYST.” Younghoon then pulls out a blue marker and starts to circle some names; CHUU, Darong, bae, nuguri, and… Ailurus? “These are my picks for VCT.”

A frown appears on your face, but before you can comment, Haknyeon beats you to it. “I don’t know if having Hyunjae and Sunwoo play together is smart.” All eyes are now on him. “I mean, no offense,” his eyes flicker to the two subjects, “I don’t know if Jiwoo and Y/N would be able to keep up, and that’s not a diss to them.”

“I agree,” Jacob chimes in. “Haknyeonie, Juyeon, and I can play with Sunwoo and Hyunjae as duelists because we know their playstyles well. We’ve played together for years. Y/N and Jiwoo would be playing with them for the first time.”

Younghoon bites the inside of his cheek, deep in thought as he considers what’s been said. “Thoughts?” He directs his question to the two people in question. The two players exchange glances, almost as if they were communicating.

“Yeah, I know Sunwoo and I can adjust our playstyle but it took more than half a year for Juyeon and Haknyeon to get used to our playstyle,” Hyunjae says as he scratches the back of his neck. “And if it helps, I’d prefer to sit this one out. You know, I have a lot of sponsorships lined up that I need to stream for also.”

Your coach sighs. “No worries. What about you, Sunwoo?”

“Wait, can I say something?” Jiwoo gathers the attention of everyone in the room. “I also want to opt out of VCT. I mean, I just played in Game Changers.” A guilty smile takes over her features.

Thankfully, Younghoon acknowledges where Jiwoo comes from. “Of course, I understand. After all, that’s why we're having this meeting.”

Before your coach can try to reconfigure the roster, Sangyeon stands up from his seat.

“Can I suggest another rotation?” Younghoon nods before handing him a red marker. Sangyeon starts to circle another list of gamer tags, ones he believes should be in the final line-up of players for VCT; it consists of bokku, bae, gyulz, Ppiya, and… Ailurus, again? Your coach frowns as he looks at the selection.

“I think Sunwoo should be benched.” Your eyebrows shoot up at Sangyeon’s words, not expecting those words considering the player’s reputation.“He’s made some rash plays recently, and you know that.” You glance at the boy who sits across from you only to see that his gaze is affixed to the ground.

Younghoon shakes his head, clearly in disbelief at the manager’s words. “Yes, but that’s only for a few matches. Trust me when I say that Sunwoo is strong as a duelist and an initiator.” His attempt to defend his mentee is weak against Sangyeon’s opinion.

“He plays for himself!”

Clearly, the two higher-ups have opposing views.

“Think about it; Eunchae and Sakura are great duelists, and anyone else on that team plays initiator.”

Although Sangyeon seems to believe his proposed line-up is the best one yet, your coach shakes his head. “Eunchae isn’t playing.” He glances at her before saying, “She told me beforehand.” All eyes are now on the teen who only shows an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I wanted to take a break from this year’s VCT to focus on my studies.”

Sangyeon scratches the back of his neck. “Well—”

“Hey,” Sakura cuts into the conversation. “Haven’t we considered that Y/N and Sunwoo might not want to play together?” She looks at you two with scrunched eyebrows, clearly confused by your coach’s proposal. “I mean, we all know their relationship, no?”

Your feud isn’t under the table. All of the players know about your distaste towards each other but they don’t know where it stems from.

“Yes, but their playstyles complement each other.” Everyone’s confused as to why Younghoon is persistent. “Out of all my mentees, I’ve worked with them the most, and I know exactly how they can work together.”

“Well, I want Y/N on that team.” As your manager says that, all the attention is now on you. You’re not sure why Sangyeon would say that. Uncomfortable with how you’ve become the topic of the conversation, you cannot help but sink into your seat.

“And I agree with you. But if we’re going to have Y/N play, I need Sunwoo on that team.” You lock eyes with Sunwoo briefly as your coach says that. “He’s my one-pick, and I know he’ll help the team out the most.” Sangyeon sighs, rethinking the roster once more. You shift your gaze to the ground, clearly unhappy being paired with the player across from you.

You weren’t happy that the two continued to discuss the final roster without asking you, but before you could speak up, someone beat you to it.

“Shouldn’t Y/N take a break?” Your gaze lands on the boy across from you, eyebrows now furrowed over his suggestion. “I mean, they did just come from winning Game Changers. We can have Juyeon take over.” When you spot a small smirk resting on his lips, you ball your fists.

Whatever game Sunwoo is playing, you don’t want any part of it. If anything, whatever he’s trying to insinuate has you clenching your teeth. And you’re about to retort—

“No,” Sangyeon says, speaking on your behalf. “Y/N’s a good leader and a team player. I trust Y/N the most out of all the people on the roster.”

Sunwoo raises his hands in defense. “It was only a suggestion.” But when he glances at you, you don’t miss the sinister smile on his face.

Not only was Sunwoo trying to bench you out of the competition but Sangyeon and Younghoon were too invested in their conversation, speaking on your behalf as if you were nothing but a tool for the organization. Without a second thought, you stand up from your seat. Everyone’s eyes are on you as you storm out of the room.

That’s the thing about being a pro player in the esports scene; no one seems to listen to you if you aren’t a man.

For once, silence settles amongst everyone. Your departure is a message, one that everyone failed to see earlier on.

A sigh leaves Sakura. “I know we’re all worried about VCT but let’s not forget to hear everyone out, okay?” She glances at the doors that are now shut closed, wondering where you may have gone. “You know Y/N. Just avoid speaking on their behalf and let them talk for themselves.”

“Yeah,” Eunchae huffs, “let’s give them time to cool down. We only wrapped up Game Changers a few weeks ago.”

As Younghoon crosses his arms, a sigh leaves him as he looks down to the floor. “Sorry, Sangyeon and I were too caught up with what we wanted.” He glances at his watch before shifting his gaze to the players who sit idly. “Let’s talk about this again once they come back.”

In the eye of a hurricane stands you, a witness to the chaos, wondering what course of action nature shall take upon you. Somehow, your screams are soundless—not a single soul minds the hurricane for as long as it doesn’t hit them.

You stand in front of the washroom mirror, taking your time to recollect your thoughts. The stress that comes from the upcoming VCT, the pressure to represent HYST once more, the likelihood of working with Kim Sunwoo for the first time—there’s nothing you can control.

The stars point you towards acceptance, perseverance.

It’s not that you were against representing HYST for the upcoming VCT events. If anything, you were grateful that Sangyeon and Younghoon trusted you to undertake such an important role.

Although you’ve competed in Game Changers, the audience it attracts is smaller in comparison to the ones your manager and coach want to see you in. All eyes will be on you as you compete to reach to Champions.

The weight that comes with playing in a worldwide esports event, one that most of the community is tuned into, rests on your shoulders—a coalition of anxiety from every round that plays out, migraines from reconfiguring your strategies, the comments of you playing just because you aren’t a man. Those reasons should be enough for you to decline the offer, to protect your peace, and to make more out of your streams.

But nothing can compare to bringing back home the fruit of your labor—the Champions Cup—the recognition that comes from competing, and the bond built amongst teammates. If you got to experience all that from Game Changers, you’re almost certain that VCT will bring experiences to be marked in your books.

But what do you know, right?

With a mind clearer after today’s event, you exit the washroom, still deciding whether you should compete or not. Yet, it’s as if the universe has plans to provoke you as you come face-to-face with the last person you want to see.

His eyes lock with yours and a snarl appears on his face. “What? I had to use the washroom.” Defensive, like always.

Before you can make your way back to the conference room, he grabs your arm, holding you back. You glare at Sunwoo, your eyes glancing at his hand on your arm, and he lets go.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “I know we don’t like each other.” Tell me about it. “But,” he sucks in a breath as he stares back at you. “I know we want to prove ourselves, so why don’t we just suck it up and work together?”

Anyone could believe that Sunwoo’s trying to play nice with you—he’s willing to make amends in hopes that there’s no bad blood between you two—but you could care less about what this man has to say.

“It’s not that easy,” you start. “You don’t understand what I want.” Unlike him, you know that proving yourself does nothing.

His frowns over your words. “What do you mean—”

“Sunwoo, you can easily say you want to play to prove yourself,” you cut him off. “I can’t say the same for me. It’s a privilege enough that I can even play in these events.” You jab your index finger against his chest, making him stagger backward.

That’s what makes you and Sunwoo different; while he chases praises from a few lucky plays, you’re left to deal with the backlash from just breathing.

If Sunwoo wants to retort, you don’t give him the chance to do so as you walk away from him. As you reach the doors, you take a deep breath in before swinging them open. The chatter is interrupted by your presence as you make your way back to your seat.

Sunwoo follows shortly, keeping his gaze on you as he takes his seat. You would’ve ignored the way he looks at you but the eye contact you two exchange amplifies what you told him then in the halls. So when an ominous grin appears on your face, the lousy bridge he tried to build towards you crumbles. After all, it was constructed on a poor attempt to save his career.

“Count me in.”

ROUND 2: “YOUR BIGGEST MISTAKE WAS THAT YOU PISSED ME OFF.”

With every day that passes, the weight of VCT rests heavier on your shoulders. Playing with a team you don’t compete with is not easy. Yet, you’re hopeful today—it’s all you have, after all.

As you enter the practice room, you are greeted by the chilly air that emits from the air conditioners. The practice room resembles an internet cafe; desks are lined up with monitors and keyboards while CPUs are placed under the tables.

You catch sight of Sakura and Haknyeon chatting away as they sit in front of their assigned computers. Jacob, however, is busy talking to Younghoon; you can only assume they’re talking about possible strategies.

Before you take a seat beside Haknyeon, you make sure to greet everyone. “And I couldn’t believe Juyeon just fell to the floor!” He exclaims which has Sakura laughing.

“What’d I miss?”

Haknyeon looks at you on the brink of tears before he retells the story. “Okay, because you know how Juyeon and I share a room?” You nod. “So, I told Juyeon to shut the lights off on his way to bed because I was ready to go to sleep. But somehow, he got lazy while walking so he had this genius idea to just jump to the bed.” At this point, your friend is laughing in between words, and the story has gone incomprehensible.

“And the next thing you know it, Haknyeon hears a sudden thump.”

You burst into laughter over the story. “You’re telling me he missed?!” The only answers you get are chortles from the two.

Preparations for VCT have fueled your anxiety for many reasons, possible losses and backlash to name a few, but Haknyeon and Sakura bring pockets of sunshine amidst the storm. If they weren’t here, you wouldn’t know how to deal with your worries.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Your mood shifts as your last teammate enters the room with an iced americano in his hand. You both lock eyes for a brief moment before you shift your gaze back to your friends, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Okay, hurry! Everyone, start fixing your setups,” Younghoon orders as he claps his hands, grabbing everyone’s attention.

You chose your seat in hopes that Jacob would sit beside you, making it easier for you both to discuss possible team strategies. Yet, the other in-game leader sits somewhere else, leaving Sunwoo to take the spot next to you. Your bubbly mood has turned sour.

“Anyway, today we will be having a practice match! So, what to expect is that…”

Younghoon’s words fall flat on your ears as your heartbeat fills your ears. As you try to fix your monitor and audio settings to fit your preferences, you hope that the anxiety will die down. Yet, you feel a pair of eyes stare a hole right into you—annoyance now accompanies your anxiety.

“Can you mind your own business and listen to Coach?” You raise the question, only loud enough for your annoying teammate to hear.

“I am paying attention.”

You scoff, “Oh, so you’ll listen now?” You rip your gaze away from the computer to glare at Sunwoo. “You didn’t listen to me last time.”

A few days ago, your team decided to scrimmage against the other members of the organization. It was a good way to practice before signing up for scrimmages against other teams participating.

Unfortunately for you, it was a match that solidified your dislike of the player. With every round, he found ways to get on your nerves, ignoring your comms and playing for himself to name a few. If you were going to be honest, you expected a bit more from Sunwoo—Sangyeon is right about his stance on the player.

Sunwoo shrugs, glancing at your coach who continues to explain today’s practice match. “I don’t know, your strats weren’t making sense last time. I trust Jacob more.”

You clench your fists as you close your eyes briefly in disbelief. “So, if it’s a man speaking, you’ll listen?” You shake your head in disbelief as you return your attention to the computer. “Jacob and I had the same plan, asshole.”

If Sunwoo wanted to defend himself, he’s not allowed to do so as Younghoon calls on both of your names. “Hey, are you listening?” The two of you nod profusely in a poor attempt to hide your conversation. “Okay then. For today’s scrimmage, you’ll be going against RUSH.”

There’s no way, right? “Sorry, did you say RUSH?” You earn a nod from him, and your world tilts on its axis. After how many years, it only took one scrimmage for you to reunite with your reasons behind why you stand in the pro scene today—Jeon Jungkook and Eric Sohn.

The three of you first met each other in university in a club full of people who liked to play video games. At first, you weren’t sure why you joined in the first place, dreading the possibility of dealing with men who would throw misogynistic comments towards you. Yet, the universe found a way to make sure you would enjoy your stay, gifting you two boys who became your best friends from university.

“Today is the perfect time to get to know your opponents, get a feel of what they do. I know that you guys have started playing together, trying to get a feel of what it’s like to play together, but I hope this scrimmage will build on it,” Younghoon says as your team quickly logs into their accounts on Discord.

Once you’ve logged in, you notice that Younghoon has sent you an invite to a Discord server. You accept it, greeted by the huge selection of teams participating, and you catch sight of RUSH in a voice channel. All of their gamer tags are recognizable, but two of them have stuck with you since your university days.

“You can all jump on the voice channel with them. Don’t forget to introduce yourselves.”

You’re the first to hop on a call and your teammates follow you shortly. Usually, you were the type to have someone lead the conversation, but to say you were excited to talk to your old friends would be an understatement. “Hi, everyone.”

“Oh my god, is that Y/N?” Jungkook asks, surprised by the sound of a familiar voice.

“Y/N?!” Eric’s microphone crackles over how loud he exclaims your name, and a grin rests on your lips over the reactions.

There they are. “I know, it’s been forever. I haven’t talked to you both since we graduated.”

The next thing you know, their faces appear on the screen; they don’t look too different from when you last saw them, but they’ve grown up. “Is it actually you?!” Jungkook asks. “I won’t believe it until I see you.”

A chuckle leaves your lips over your old friend’s words. “God, I’ll turn my cam on.” You click on the video icon, revealing your poor attempt to hold back your grin. “Happy now?”

“It’s been so long, what the fuck? I miss you! Congrats on your win!” Eric says. “Everyone, why don’t we turn on our cams?” Both his teammates and yours have turned their cameras on. “Let’s introduce ourselves.”

The introductions are quick. You learned the real names of Jungkook and Eric’s teammates; Choi Soobin, Jeon Wonwoo, and Lee Jeno. RUSH’s roster is a good selection of players. Your palms get sweaty as you hear your heartbeat in your ears—nothing could’ve prepared you for today’s scrimmage.

Before you can all agree to start the match, Sunwoo pops a question. “Sorry, how do you guys know each other?” You watch his expression through Discord, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

Jungkook chuckles before saying, “We went to uni together, met in this club which we all left after our first year.” All he gets is a hum from your teammate, but you don’t miss the way Sunwoo looks off into nowhere, almost as if he’s irritated—you wonder why his mood shifted. “Anyway, are we ready to have our match?” You all hum in agreement before turning your cameras off.

“Alright, good luck and have fun!”

The worst Valorant matches are the ones that reach overtime. It’s 12 to 13 on Icebox in RUSH’s favor, and your team is on the brink of losing—only one win is needed and your opponent will leave victorious.

“I think we should go through mid and then make our way through A-site.”

You shake your head in disapproval. “No, Jacob, I think we should enter a site together instead. It’s risky to pass through mid since,” you glance at the leaderboard to check how many credits Jungkook has, “I have a strong feeling someone will use an operator.”

Although Jacob seems to consider your suggestion, a groan leaves Sunwoo. “Wouldn’t it be better to split up?”

“No, we’re not strong enough to fight our own battles. We need to play together, fight together.” You would like to think that your team can handle isolated battles, but you guys were weak against RUSH. Perhaps they had good reflexes or better game sense.

As the timer starts to count down, Jacob orders, “Okay, we’ll go with Y/N’s plan. The most important thing is that we don’t pick fights on our own and plant the spike.”

The round commences, and you all make your way into your positions; Sakura and Jacob slowly make their way through A-main while you go up to the belt. Haknyeon carefully sets up his trip wires and camera before joining you.

“I’m going to dart first.” Once you get your recon bolt out, you shoot it far enough to land on the wall; it catches the presence of Soobin and Wonwoo. The toxic screen goes up, perfectly concealing the site.

“Go!”

It happens all too quickly, shots fired and damage dealt and received. Before you know it, your team is dead—except for one who didn’t seem to listen to your plans.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you say as you spectate Sunwoo, watching that he’s making his way back to where you guys died, leaving mid. There are only two players that he needs to fight, Jungkook on Jett and Eric on Deadlock. You know the round is tense, and the last thing you want to do is aggravate him.

Thankfully, Sunwoo plants the spike, but he situates himself in a spot that wouldn’t allow him to reposition quickly. A pair of footsteps go up the stairs, signaling that someone is making their way to heaven.

For a moment, he keeps his gaze affixed to screens, but he looks back to A-main, expecting a flank, and he’s right; Eric comes into his vision.

You expect Sunwoo to win the fight, but when his body falls to the ground, a sigh leaves you. The mood has plummeted, sinking into murky waters of frustration, disappointment. “Fuck, sorry,” Sunwoo apologizes as he covers his mouth in frustration.

“It’s okay, you tried,” Jacob attempts to console his teammate. “Good work, everyone.”

The spike gets defused; HYST has lost against RUSH.

“Come on, let’s go hop on a call with them again.”

With that, your team follows Jacob’s orders. “Tight match everyone, but a fun one!” Wonwoo says.

“Yeah, thanks for the game,” Sakura responds, trying to stay in high spirits.

“Well, we have to get going. We have another scrimmage,” Eric starts. “Y/N, send me your number through DMs. Let’s hang with Jungkook.”

You hum, a small smile resting on your lips. “Sure, see you guys in Challengers.” With that, everyone leaves the voice channel.

While RUSH is probably celebrating their win, HYST is in low spirits. It’s a practice match, sure, but still a match nevertheless.

“Good work, everyone,” Younghoon says in an attempt to cheer everyone up. “I really liked the energy I saw from you guys. You all put up a good fight and fought together.”

Although everyone seems to hum in agreement with your coach, you don’t join in. “Why did you stray off?” You redirect your gaze to the boy beside you, only earning a frown. “Didn’t we agree to play together?”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Yeah, but—”

“But what, Sunwoo? What could’ve been the reason for you to not enter with us and not follow the game plan?” You’re frustrated over everything; the stress of VCT, your loss against RUSH, your teammate who never listens to you.

“Hey, knock it off!” Younghoon gets in between you two. “Now is not the time to be fighting.” You and Sunwoo only glare at each other. “Cannot believe I’m dealing with a bunch of 5-year-olds,” he mutters under his breath.

“Jacob and Sakura, nice work in holding B-site, by the way. Haknyeon, you also did well holding A-site.” Then, your coach glances between you two. “Now, we still need to work on your coordination and teamwork.” It’s a statement for your whole team, but it feels as if it were directed at you and Sunwoo. You wish you sat out of VCT.

“You can go now.”

With that, everyone gets ready to exit the practice room. Your coach is the first one out. You think you’re at fault for causing stress on him but if only Sunwoo would work with you—listen, for the matter—then maybe you two wouldn’t be in this mishap.

“Hey, you two.” You look at Jacob who calls on you and Sunwoo. “Can you stay behind for a bit?” You glance at Haknyeon and Sakura who observe the interaction briefly. As you both nod, your other teammates have taken their leave.

Now, you stand in front of him with your teammate beside you. A sigh leaves him as he rubs his jaw while a frown rests on his face. You only see Jacob like this when he’s focused on his games, but never when it comes to dealing with issues like what your team (or you and Sunwoo, really) has.

“I know you two don’t like each other, and I still don’t know why.” You and Sunwoo exchange glances before ignoring each other once more. “But you understand that you both signed up for VCT, right? That means you will be playing many matches together.”

You’re aware that agreeing to represent HYST means having to work with Sunwoo. Your reasons for participating are enough to convince you that you handle all the upcoming matches with Sunwoo—all adversities will be dealt with. Yet, you couldn’t speak for your teammate.

“So, I’m asking that you guys focus on working together. I’m not asking you to make up or anything but to still be professional around each other. We still have to win the qualifiers, so no funny business, okay?”

Jacob was right. Your dispute is getting in the way of team dynamics, holding HYST back, and you didn’t want to inconvenience your team any further. With that, you nod, begrudgingly accepting Jacob’s request. You can spot Sunwoo nodding along with you in the corner of your eye.

“Okay, thanks. You can both go now.”

When you and Sunwoo leave the practice room, not a single word is exchanged.

ROUND 3: “DON’T LOOK SO SMUG, SUNWOO!”

Over the last months, you and your team have spent every waking hour on Valorant—practice, practice, practice, until you all felt satisfied.

To say you were sick of the game is an understatement, but some of your teammates try to make every minute enjoyable; Haknyeon would goof off some rounds and knife opponents from behind, Jacob would make comments that you never would’ve imagined leaving his mouth, and Sakura would ask questions about everyone before every round. You take your part in lifting the spirits and making these matches less monotonous by reading stories from the r/AmITheAsshole subreddit.

As for your relationship with Sunwoo, you’ve tried to keep it professional. During matches and strategizing phases, you would communicate with each other, exchanging ideas of how to win these games. Outside of those periods, however, were spent ignoring each other’s existence.

Thankfully, all those months of practicing didn’t go to waste—your team went against multiple organizations during Qualifiers, and now you’re on the last leg of the event. Only one more win is needed and your team makes it to Challengers.

Now, your team is in the practice room, head-to-head against another team. It’s 11 to 12 in your team’s favor on Ascent. It’s absurd that your opponents made a comeback from 3-9, but you’ll blame it on the superstition.

“Let’s play default. Their team tends to push out anyway,” Jacob orders before he takes a sip of water. “I’ll play by tiles while Sakura and Haknyeonie can go to A-site. Sunwoo and Y/N, play near B-site. Just make sure to not get caught by their Sova’s recon dart.” Everyone on your team agrees with Jacob’s plan.

The round commences. Just like what Jacob called out, a recon dart is thrown, but it doesn’t catch sight of you and Sunwoo. “Sova’s by B-site,” Sunwoo tells the team.

“I hear footsteps by tree,” Sakura starts, and Jacob takes it as his sign to smoke the cubby off. Before you know it, he takes a peek at mid and kills off the enemy team’s Gekko. Sakura flashes A-site before double-swinging with Haknyeon. “There are three players by A-site! Go to B-site!”

You and Sunwoo start to make your way through B-site. You walk in front of him, trying to smoke off hall and market. It should’ve occurred to you how weird it is that Sunwoo trails behind you, but it doesn’t, and you choose to enter the site.

The next thing you know, your body flops to the ground, and you let out a groan. As you spectate Sunwoo, he successfully trades you. “Spike down B,” the announcer voices out. Now, it’s a three versus one battle.

“Astra’s with me! Go plant,” Haknyeon calls out, and Sunwoo listens. He plants the spike like a breeze and situates himself in the boathouse.

Jacob tucks himself by mid, waiting for Astra to pass through spawn. “I can catch Astra off-guard while you try to pinch them,” he tells Haknyeon. Within a few seconds, he successfully lands his shots and kills Astra, securing HYST a win—your team will be participating in Challengers.

Everyone cheers, getting off their seats and huddling into a group hug. “Holy shit, Jacob! That was such a good 3K!” Haknyeon cheers as he’s overfilled with joy.

Your teammate tries to shrug off the compliments. “We all did good.”

A pair of arms wrap around you and Jacob. “That was an amazing play!” Younghoon is thrilled by today’s matches. “WE’RE GOING TO CHALLENGERS!”

It’s a dream come true; you’ll be competing on stage in front of a wider audience against teams who are more capable than you—who have more experience than you—but the journey has only started. You wonder what the upcoming months will have in store for you and your team—what will time do for you and Sunwoo?

You’re the first to break up from the hug, everyone else following along. “I’m going to call Sangyeon over,” your coach announces before making his way out of the practice room.

Then, Haknyeon pulls out his phone. “Wait, the guys are blowing up our group chat. I’ll just call them.”

Sunwoo is about to follow his teammates, but you grab hold of his forearm as you hold him back, and he frowns at you. “I need to talk to Sunwoo,” you smile at the other guys who only glance at each other, confused by your actions. Yet, they let the matter go, letting you deal with your business with him.

Sakura grabs your shoulder. “I’m going to call the team. Anything you want me to tell them?”

“I’ll tell them myself, it’s okay. You can go.”

With that, it was only you and your teammate.

You let go of his arm and a frown replaces the grin you once showed. “What was that during the last round?” As Sunwoo scrunches his eyebrows further, you groan. “You literally baited me.”

An exasperated sigh leaves him. “God, it’s not that serious.”

“Sunwoo, you’re playing duelist. You’re supposed to be entering sites for the team.”

“And I do!” He glares at you, annoyed by your complaints. “We still won. Can’t you just be happy that we made it to Challengers?”

That’s the thing you hate about playing with Sunwoo; if the outcome is good, he’ll turn a blind eye to his mistakes. How does he improve as a player if he doesn’t acknowledge his faults?

He’s about to turn away from you—make his way to his teammates and celebrate today’s win—but you grab his hand and pull him close to you. The sudden action almost has him toppling over you, and thankfully, his reflexes are quick enough to make sure you both don’t fall.

But the distance between you two is smaller, his eyes wide while yours remain stern. He holds his breath while yours grazes his skin.

You’ve never seen him this way—compliant, obedient—and it’s a sight to behold, one you’d like to keep for yourself. If only he were like this to you, then maybe you wouldn’t—no, snap out of it.

“Sunwoo.” He gulps at the way you call his name. “I’m your controller, I’m supposed to stay alive longer to support you.” You hold his gaze. “Try to keep this behavior up during the rest of VCT, I dare you.”

There’s malice laced in your tone, an attempt to make him cower—obey—over your threat, and you know your job is successful when Sunwoo doesn’t try to retort. He has every opportunity to retort—rile you up like all other times—and yet, he remains silent.

With that, you let go of his hand, stepping away to give you both room to breathe. Patches of warmth litter all over your skin, from your neck to your chest. To have Sunwoo look at you like that has—

“Guys!” Younghoon comes back rushing into the room with Sangyeon trailing behind him. You catch sight of the smile that rests on your manager’s face, clearly proud of your team. “Let’s look at the list of the teams who made it to Challengers.”

Your coach fiddles with the television remote and opens up the stream. Just in time, you’re able to look through the teams who made it to the next event. As you spot HYST in a sea of esteemed teams, fulfillment bubbles within you.

Yet, you know the battle doesn’t end here. RUSH makes the cut—will your team remain victorious or will it meet its demise?

ROUND 4: “YOU’RE HERE TO TAKE MY KILLS, SUNWOO? LET’S MAKE IT A COMPETITION.”

You were lying when you said you were sick of Valorant. There were other games you could be playing, Minecraft, Overwatch, and Stardew Valley to name a few. Yet, here you are, playing your favorite (read: most hated) game for today’s stream.

“I won’t lie, I’m not sure why I’m playing this game on stream,” you chuckle. “Like, I could be playing something else to save my mental health.” The comments keep coming as you ramble, trying to kill time.

keybladetwo: CONGRATS IN PLAYOFFS!!! GOODLUCK IN CHALLENGERS orangecheeko: HYST TAKEOVER 🔥🔥🔥 hungrydinosaur: the 3k bae did last round was INSANE

A flood of compliments comes your way, making you smile. “Awe. Thanks, everyone! I still can’t believe I’ll be playing for Challengers, and then there’ll be Masters and Champions.”

reingoaway: how was it like playing with the others :O noxturnal: U and Jacob on the same team must be crazy! Aren’t u both IGLs

A hum leaves you as you think over your answers. “It’s fun for the most part,” you admit. “I mean, it took us a while to get used to each other’s playstyles, but I’d like to think that the practice paid off.”

You fiddle around with your Valorant collection, changing skins on some firearms. “I’d like to think Jacob and I do pretty well in strategizing in the middle of matches. Sure, we have our fair share of contrasting opinions but we always consider each other’s ideas.”

Although the time you spend practicing with your team can be tiresome, your teammates try to make every round enjoyable. It’s thanks to them that you’re able to deal with the weight of VCT for the most part. There is burnout that comes from playing the same game at a pro level—at least you have most of your teammates to thank for the most part.

tagmeup: Will you play with nuguri? ailguriluver: YEAA u guys go crazy together ashfallen: nuguri & ailurus stream 🙏

You would’ve ignored it as you used to with all other streams, but your chat seems to flood the same question; there’s no escape even in the safety of your own channel. “Uh,” you scratch the back of your neck, “I didn’t really plan to stream with nuguri.”

nugunuguwho: He’s on stream right now!

“He is?” You bite the inside of your cheek as you type out his username on Twitch. His profile shows up, showing that he’s live, and you adjust your stream so that it shows your browser. Now, your audience can see that you’ve searched him up.

Once you click his stream, you are greeted with the words “DEFEAT” flashing on the screen. “Aish, fuck this game!” On the top left corner of the screen is your teammate, all dressed in a gray hoodie with hair messier than usual, and frames resting on the bridge of his nose. He leans back on his chair, tonguing the inside of his cheek out of frustration from losing a match.

The screen shifts to the match summary, showing that he’s currently 00RR in Ascendant 3. “Man, you would think that people in these ranks would at least understand to comm!” He then showcases his match history and—holy shit, it’s a red carpet. “Guys, it’s not looking good.”

You hide your smile behind the back of your hand. Although you make comments about how terrible of a player Sunwoo is, you would’ve never imagined him to be on such a horrendous losing streak.

(At the same time, it could be the fault of his teammates, but you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction. He’s an awful player, point blank.)

“Ailurus is on my stream?” You are snapped out of your thoughts as he mentions your gamer tag. “How do you know?” He scrunches his eyebrows as he reads the chat. “They’re streaming?”

You rush to close the window and frown at the camera. “I can’t believe you guys sold me out!” As you shake your head, you shift your stream back to the game. “I was trying to spy on him! Anyway, I’m going to queue up because I cannot have Sunwoo ruining my win streak.”

You’re about to queue into a game, hoping to end the discussion, but your eyes catch sight of a familiar name and you halt your movements.

nuguri: r u down to play?

It’s an internal battle—should you pretend you didn’t see Sunwoo’s message or should you fake your relationship with him?

Time ticks. The more you contemplate, the more you realize that you can’t play off that you saw his message in a sea of unfamiliar usernames. You’ve dug up your hole—there’s no turning back now.

“Okay, add my alt account.” Not a single mention of his name, and yet, your audience knows exactly who you’re talking to. The chat is filled with messages of excitement.

A friend request has been sent to you. “Is “sawako’s bf” your fucking alt?” Your gaze shifts to the chat, waiting for a message from Sunwoo.

nuguri: check discord

You roll your eyes before accepting his request on Valorant before opening up Discord. Another friend request has come in, and—is that a Smiski as his display picture? Your mouth parts open as you accept his request. Before you can shoot him a message, he calls you, and you don’t think twice before picking it up.

“I didn’t know you liked Smiskis,” you admit, surprised by the sight of the figurine. The sight of your profile picture, a Smiski from a different series, beside his photo is humorous—who would’ve thought that you two would match? “I didn’t even know you had another Discord account.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. “I mean, you just don’t look like the type you know? You reek of “loser e-boy that can’t do shit” energy.” As you hear him gasp, you chuckle.

Perhaps it helped to interact with Sunwoo in front of an audience. You can say diss him if you wanted, boiling it down to banter, and no one would question it.

“First off, I have a Discord account for work and another one for just personal use. And second, I am not a fuckass e-boy.” His defensive energy has you rolling your eyes. “Hey, I see you rolling your eyes!”

“The fuck? Get out of my stream,” you say as you glance at the camera. As you go back to Valorant, you see that you’re invited to Sunwoo’s party. Once you accept the invite, Sunwoo queues you both up for a Ranked match. “If we lose, I’m blaming it on you.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that I lost all my matches today.”

You bite on the inside of your cheek, holding back your laughter just in case he’s still watching your stream. “Okay, whatever you say. I know you only peaked Immortal 1.”

“Immortal 1 is a good rank! What are you trying to say?” A chuckle leaves him as he says those words, clearly knowing that he’s unfortunately not like you who is currently ranked at Immortal 2.

“I think you just want me to boost you.”

“Match found,” the announcer voices out. You are greeted by the opening screen of Sunset.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m down on my luck that I need someone to boost me.” Sarcasm is evident in his tone, and you can’t help but laugh. The screen then shifts to agent select. “What’s good, everyone?” A bad attempt at deep voice leaves Sunwoo as he talks to a team full of strangers.

You’re thrown back by the sudden tone shift, causing a giggle to leave you. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Go! Talk to the team.” You shake your head as if he can see you. (Maybe he’s still watching you, after all.) He hovers over Reyna before telling you, “It won’t hurt.”

The thing about you is that you would never talk to a team full of strangers, but you don’t think twice when you say, “I’m good,” before hovering over Omen.

“There we go!” He exclaims in your call. You try to hold back your grin.

Unfortunately, the moment doesn’t last long. “Didn’t you mean to hover over Sage?” A stranger on your team asks.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“Because you’re a woman.”

You should’ve seen this coming—there’s a reason why you don’t like to speak in this game.

“Just because I’m born a woman doesn’t mean I need to play that agent. I can play Skye if we need a healer,” you suggest, trying to keep your cool over what the stranger says.

“Nah, Skye might be too complex for you.”

You’re thinking if you should just lock in on Omen or retort, but both choices lead to an outcome where they’ll constantly be on your ass. Before you can make a decision, however, someone speaks.

“Hey, let them play whoever they want to play. You can play Sage if you really want,” Sunwoo cuts into the conversation, hoping to diffuse the situation. But when a chuckle leaves the stranger, you know it’s far from reaching that.

“Ah, I see how it is. How’s the head?”

You’ve officially reached your limit, and it seems Sunwoo has reached his as well. “This shit isn’t worth it,” Sunwoo ends the conversation with that. Before you know it, you’re back in the lobby, alone. “Sorry, I quit the game. Just give me a second to boot it up.”

As you hear those words, warmth surges within you. You don’t like your teammate at all and he’s never given you any reason to treat him with kindness, but just this one action is enough to make you see him in a different light—is he rotten to the core or have you been blinded this whole time?

Before you know it, he requests to join your party, and you accept the invite. When your eyes catch sight that he’s deranked to Ascendant 2, it hits you that he lost some RR just to avoid playing with the player who was giving you a hard time.

(Would it be bad to hope he did it for you?)

You hop in the queue to find another match.

It’s quiet for a moment; the mood has been ruined by some stranger on Valorant. Yet, Sunwoo seems to have something under his sleeve, a way to lift your spirit. “What if we pick each other’s agents?”

“This is a ranked match. You know that, right?”

Sunwoo lets out a groan. “I know that! But think about how fun it would be! We can play each other’s mains!”

“Do you really want to play Omen or Sova?” The screen then shows you’ll be playing on Pearl. “I thought you wanted to win some games.”

“Hey, I can definitely play those agents!” You roll your eyes over his words, clearly not believing him. “Let’s make it a competition. Whoever gets placed on top of the leaderboard wins, but you play Raze while I play Omen.”

A hum leaves you as you contemplate his proposal. “What’s the prize?”

“Well,” Sunwoo pauses, thinking over what can be done. “What if the winner gets their wish granted by the loser?”

“A wish? What type of wish?”

“Well, that’s for us to determine in our own time.”

You should’ve said no—why would you agree to such a bet with the one guy you can’t stand being in a room with? But the problem is that your pride is on the line, and you wanted to prove to Sunwoo that you could do his job better as a duelist.

So, you don’t think twice when you say, “Ah, fuck it. Let’s do it.”

You should’ve played Raze earlier on in your esports career. The match passes you like a breeze, entering and clearing sites and shots landing on your opponents every round. You don’t remember having this much fun playing Raze for the first time.

But somehow, the universe didn’t listen to your wishes—Sunwoo sits on the top of the leaderboard while you’re under him.

“Fuck! I only needed one assist and I would’ve beaten you.” As you complain, your teammate laughs.

“Ah, I wonder what I should have you do for me.”

You roll your eyes before looking at the time. “God, it’s that late already? I think I’m gonna end the stream already.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ll be back.” Before you know it, he deafens himself on Discord.

A sigh leaves you before you briefly look through the chat. “Sorry guys, I’m gonna end it early. I still need to pack my suitcase for Challengers next week.” There’s a mix of comments, ones that beg you to stay while others that thank you for today’s stream. “I’ll try to stream again before I leave but no promises. Bye, everyone! Hope you enjoy the rest of your days!”

With that, you end the stream. Another good stream out of you despite how short it was.

The most surprising thing to come out of this stream is that you were enjoying your time with Sunwoo. Whether it may be from the later hours of the day or just a front that he was putting up for the audience, you didn’t want to think too much of it. You’ll accept it for what it is now.

As you quit out of some of your applications, you look back at Discord to see that he’s back.

For a moment, it’s quiet. There’s an internal struggle within you—should you thank him for what he said earlier or not?

You didn’t want to call attention to the issue anymore. Unfortunately, you’ve had your fair share of experiences with misogyny throughout your life, and it pained you to say that this wasn’t the worst thing you’ve heard.

But he beats you to it, almost as if he was bothered by the silence, and says, “I’ll think about the wish for a bit, just want to think of my options.”

A groan rips out of you. “Don’t make me do anything stupid, please.”

He hums for a moment, almost as if he was considering your request, but you know who he is. “No guarantee! I’ll see you soon.”

Before you can retort, he ends the call. You stare blankly at your screen. If you thought Sunwoo was okay, you were absolutely wrong. He’s still a shithead.

But when you get in bed, you stare at the ceiling for a moment, and you can’t wipe off the grin that rests on your lips.

God, you need to sleep.

perma taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs

series taglist ➵ @wooluv09 @untilsunset @hiefisch @wonuroyal @sunkitti

if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback! don't just like :]

#deoboyznet #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #works of moni #kim sunwoo #the boyz #the boyz x reader #kim sunwoo x reader #the boyz angst #the boyz imagines #kim sunwoo angst #kim sunwoo smut #kim sunwoo the boyz #sunwoo the boyz

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winterchimez · 5 months

Text

🔎 — the 007 files

James Bond—or rather, the public was more aware that his code name, agent 007, has been working behind the scenes for decades now. imagine this: what if the agent 007 that you have come to know of was actually more than just one person? what if the famous group The Boyz were all agent 007 working under M16. buckle up as you access M16's top secret operative files, aka the most famous missions these individual agents have succeeded in.

A/N: why hello my fellow readers! i present to you a tbz x 007 cross-over collab series!! i've had this idea for a while now and thanks to @sungbeam who gave me the genius idea of hosting an open collab (and co-planning with me) for this!! i'm so so excited and i really hope this doesn't flop lmao 😭 so yes, please feel free to join the fun! 😉

🔎 STARRING: the boyz x f!reader/oc // g.n!reader/oc

🔎 GENRE: crime, angst, fluff, crack, suggestive, smut (only for 18+ writers!!), assorted pairings (more to be added)

🔎 WARNINGS: will be stated in each respective files!

RULES & REGULATIONS:

↬ choose a tbz member & a bond film to start off! you may write the story loosely based on the storyline of the film/a certain scene(s) inspired by the film itself! or alternatively, write it based on the themed song for the specific film you have chosen! (eg: sangyeon - the spy who loved me)

↬ slots will be first come first served! in total there will be 11 slots for 11 members

↬ only tbz member x reader / tbz member x oc!! no tbz member x member for this

↬ as mentioned above, writers will have the option to choose to either write a female/gender neutral reader/oc!

↬ minimum wc would be 1k, and there's no maximum so feel free to write as much as you'd like! pls include a "read more" feature after your summaries/genre/warnings/word count/a.n.

↬ you are allowed to write any genre you like! pls make sure you're over 18+ if you wish to include smut in your work.

↬ no sensitive topics will be allowed (eg: su*c*de, r*pe, r*cism, etc.)

↬ i will be making a discord gc for easier access, updates, and even brainstorming with one another! it will also help me loads with any announcements i will be making. joining in would be highly encouraged (though if you choose not to that's totally fine by me, just keep me regularly updated in my dms!)

↬ the project will officially kick start off on December 1st 2023, and you will have till March 31st 2024 to complete your work! if ever you wish to drop out / need a bit more time to publish your work pls do let me know!!

↬ fill out this google form to secure your place in this collab :) (key: shaken not stirred)

↬ lastly, reblog this post, @ me in your fics & use the hashtag 🔎 — the 007 files in your works!!

FILES:

Lee Sangyeon — The Spy Who Loved Me @winterchimez

Jacob Bae — The World Is Not Enough @snowflakewhispers

Kim Younghoon — Goldfinger @daisyvisions

Lee Hyunjae — Skyfall @kkinou

Lee Juyeon — For Your Eyes Only @juyeonszn

Kevin Moon

Choi Chanhee — No Time To Die @maessseongs

Ji Changmin — Casino Royale @sungbeam

Ju Haknyeon

Kim Sunwoo — On Her Majesty's Secret Service @kimsohn

Eric Sohn — From Russia With Love @cloverdaisies

#🔎 — the 007 files #kpop collab #the boyz #tbz #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz collab #tbz collab #the boyz crime #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #the boyz suggestive #the boyz smut #the boyz x 007 au #tbz x 007 au #james bond 007 #james bond au #007 au

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haet-sal · 11 months

Text

An Attic Affair//Younghoon x reader smut

Since the Kim brothers moved in, your life has been hell. Sunwoo took over your room and made you sleep in the attic, and Younghoon… well, you don’t mind seeing him. What makes it hellish is that you’re incredibly attracted to him, and he doesn’t even seem to notice you.

Tags: stepbrother smut, KINKY fingering scene (but who cares youre already fucking your stepbrother), he calls u a 'SLUT', scene of watching porn + lots of masturbating, PERV!hoon+sunwoo (panty-stealing & ogling), perv!you, hoon calls himself "oppa" once, unprotected🤷‍♀️, BULLY!Sunwoo, hoon is VERY NICE to you

W.c.: 5.5k

Excerpt; “Don’t worry,” he says, “oppa learnt a lot about making dumb little bunnies like you cum. I bet I can make you cum… hmm…” He flicked your nub, making you squeal. “... with just a flick of my finger.” He’s still laughing at how you were trying to compose yourself, and failing.

“Move over, idiot.” Sunwoo pushed you out of your high chair, and sits down with his breakfast. The same way he pushed you out of your room.

“You decided last week that that was your seat,” you say, pointing to the chair across from you two.

Sunwoo grunts. “I’m sorry, we have ‘permanent’ seats in this house?”

Your mother says it’s just the thing with having siblings now, you’ve been an only child so you don’t know how to share—why couldn’t you be more like the Kim brothers? When Sunwoo calls her ‘mom’ your mother just goes nuts with pride, so when he asked her, “mom can I please have Y/N’s room, it’s so much bigger,” she immediately gave it to him.

You couldn’t even move to the guest room, because it was now taken over by the older brother, Hoonie—who had moved into an apartment in the city, he didn’t even live here—but they wanted to keep his room and stuff there, so you had to settle for… the attic. Bullied out of a bed by Kim Sunwoo, who in the eyes your mother could do no wrong.

It wasn’t enough that he saw you battling with attic dust and cramped space every time you came down out of a ladder for breakfast, Sunwoo had to take everything else from you—your seat at any table, your laptop because his kept ‘freezing’, any alone-time you could get—and still wasn’t satisfied. Sunwoo was a bully. You didn’t know how your mother couldn’t see it.

You didn’t hate all the Kims, though. Your new stepdad was a great guy, the perfect fit to your mother’s jigsaw puzzle of a heart, and Younghoon…

You didn’t hate Younghoon. You didn’t even know how someone could begin to hate Younghoon. You first met him wearing some shabby Christmas sweater, but on the day of the wedding, he had a suit on…

You got cake frosting in your nose staring at Younghoon back at the wedding. You didn’t understand how fabric could be so sinful, more sinful than nakedness, how the thin white silk shirt hugged his chest, and the length of his legs exaggerated by the tailored pants… Younghoon was like a vision of a dream you couldn’t get enough of. Thank God he lived in the city, away from you, or you would have committed multiple crimes.

As you were staring Sunwoo down at the breakfast table, the front door suddenly opens, and two long legs strided into the dining room, to your surprise—Younghooon is in the kitchen, picking out muscats out of a bowl. “Hey, appa. Hey, mom.” Younghoon had started calling your mother ‘mom’ too, to your disdain. “I got a break from my job, and my roommate’s got his girlfriend over the whole time, so I thought I’d just come see you guys. Surprise?”

He takes a seat beside you until you’re sandwiched between both brothers. Your mom shot a look at you—“Sweetie, let them sit together, they haven’t seen each other in a while.”

Once again pushed out of your seat, you frowned, only Younghoon goes: “that’s alright, we’ll let her eat in peace.” He shot a look at Sunwoo. “You haven’t been more of an evil bastard, have you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” But Younghoon was only there for the attic thing, and not the laptop-borrowing and all the bullying that’s been going on.

You knew Sunwoo was a bit of a perv to other people, but… he wouldn’t steal your panties, would he? It’s weird, because it happens sporadically—once when you still kept your clothes in your old room, and right now. It’s just that he took your favorite lacey, pretty-pink-and-yellow ones, so it’s hard to not notice.

You rifled through your closet in the attic trying to find the missing panties. You thought you’d wear them, just because Younghoon’s around and you need your intimates to feel sexy. But they’re nowhere around.

Sunwoo couldn’t have, right? He’s not that sick. But who else could have? Certainly not Younghoon, who only ever even smiles at you out of obligation.

You won’t confront Sunwoo, though, just to not embarrass the both of you. He’d just deny it anyway… And currently he was hogging the bathroom just because he knew you were planning to shower.

You’re clutching your change of clothes to your chest as you knock on the bathroom door, trying to word your commands as sweetly as you could: “Sunwoo, I need to shower before my appointment!”

“You can’t rush me,” he retorted. “I’m doing my 16-step skin care routine.”

“Sun—” Your yell got interrupted, as you froze on your spot, to see a half-naked Younghoon with a towel around his waist, coming up to you.

“Oh,” he says in realization. “You were waiting on him, too? Then you can go first—”

“No!” you gasped. “No, you should—if he decides to come out, that is.”

“Hey, it’s your home,” he offered with a friendly smile.

The door swung open, and Sunwoo marches out, also half naked but ineffective on your psyche. You knew he only came out because he heard Younghoon, not because he finally felt some pity for you.

“16 step skincare routine?” Younghoon says with a sing-song.

“It’s how I keep my face baby-soft, loser.”

“Looks rougher than those basketballs you throw around to me.”

Wordlessly, Sunwoo reaches for the towel around Younghoon’s waist, and pulls it towards him, laughing maniacally as it comes off, and he throws it into the air before exiting the scene. You turn away from both boys, staring off, holding a scream inside your throat.

“Hey,” Younghoon says with a laugh, “Y/N, it’s fine. I had boxers on.”

“Wh–What? Oh.” You bat your eyes until you’re seeing clearly; Younghoon had boxers on, those baggy plaid boxers perfect for lounging around if he were living alone.

You imagined him on the couch, absentmindedly watching the TV, manspreading, the outline of his dick thick and dark in the shadows it casted. He’d reach under the waistband of those boxers, eyes still fixated on the TV in front of him, and start palming his cock, until it grows pink and needy—

You drop your change of clothes you had just thinking of it, and Younghoon looks dumbfounded. As you both reach out to grab them off the carpeted floor, Younghoon’s body ends up so close to you, half naked, almost like a side-hug. You feel his chest against yours, body so warm and real and solid.

He’s so hot. You pull away. “Um, you should shower first,” you offered. “You’re… older, and all.” You ran back to your attic screaming internally.

Brother, you tell yourself, that’s your step brother. Jeez, please, chill out, Y/N!

But you just felt his naked chest against your body, like if he were holding you in bed—

What bed! You groan. You were sitting on the mattress in the attic with your towel and clothes, waiting for Younghoon to finish showering. You willed yourself to not think of what he looked like naked—you’ve already seen enough. A whole lot. And still it wasn’t enough or you?!

“It’s so perfect that Younghoon’s here!” your mom starts to say. You’re confused. Why? “I wouldn’t have trusted you two here, but with your big brother here, maybe me and your stepdad can go on a trip!”

Sunwoo just grunts in response. You’re aghast—not that you didn’t trust Younghoon, but even your mother wouldn’t defend you against Sunwoo’s raids—how would Younghoon?

But the older boy grinned at your two parents. “You two should have fun, mom and appa,” he said. “We’ll take care of the house.”

Your parents were packing for the trip, as they hurriedly booked a hotel with a lakeside view. You sat on the bed in the master bedroom, helping your mother with her luggage. “Do you have to go?” You couldn’t bear thinking about what Sunwoo would be like if some adults weren’t around.

“Younghoon’s here,” your mom assured you.

The said man was currently leading against the door frame talking to his dad about sunglasses, and if they were gonna swim in the lake. You sighed, dreamily staring at him. Just all the fun you couldn’t have… From downstairs, you could hear Sunwoo loudly playing fifa.

“Younghoon’s very responsible,” says your step dad. “He was resident advisor back in college!”

“Nah.” Younghoon scoffed cooly. Since returning to town, he had cut his hair the way wall street brokers do—clean cut, full forehead showing, dark brown hair pushed aside. The perfect son-in-law look, too bad your mother already calls him son. “Resident advisors are assholes on power trips. I was just the guy that helped deal with them.” He grinned, shooting you a look. “Hey, young lady, before I forget, I brought you a present.”

You raise your eyebrow in confusion, gingerly following him out to the former guest room—which was better than Sunwoo’s current one, and big enough for two people. You’d be mad at both brothers, if only Younghoon wasn’t so goddamn nice.

“Here.” He handed you a neatly folded burgundy-brown hoodie, incredibly similar to the one he wears to bed. You couldn’t control yourself from bringing it to your nose, and it smells like him, freshly taken out of his luggage, where it had laid folded next to his cologne and aftershave. So heavenly, boyish, sexy. It felt like hugging him.

“Thanks!” you chirped to Younghoon. “You’re the nicest.” The hoodie was a medium version of the oversized one he wore to bed. It’s disgusting to make a coupling joke with your step brother, so you don’t.

You looked back at the luggage it had come from, and you just… thought of something. Wouldn’t it be so cool, if you could have Younghoon’s actual, well-worn clothes? Like one of his soft giant shirts? Something that was just entirely his?

You’re so stupid. But it’s just a crush—you just needed to get over it. Right?

Well, you thought, if Sunwoo could (allegedly) steal your panties, you could take Younghoon’s shirt.

While Younghoon and Sunwoo had dinner on the empty first floor—your parents had left already, adding to the stillness—you had an amazing idea. A horrible, perverted idea, but amazing nevertheless.

You open the door to Younghoon’s room ajar so it didn’t creak, and rifled through his bag. Where was it, the pristine-bleached white shirt, with the badge on it, that makes Younghoon look like an Abercrombie model? Your hands brush against the cold glass of his cologne, and you bring it out to sniff the top.

Like a creep. At least you weren’t sniffing underwear or something, ew—it was just cologne. Expensive french cologne.

Everything in his luggage was oversized and therefore too conspicuous if you take it away, so you decided to go through his unfolded just-dried laundry, which he had just done. Going through the first couple items… something flimsy and lacey fell out of it.

You thought you knew what it looked like, so you grab it from off the floor. Your panties, the ones you lost. What was it doing here… You felt embarrassed by the thought of Younghoon seeing your panties, so you just pocket it, thinking it got mixed in from the washing machine—ugh! That’s so embarrassing.

Under the pile, you find the white shirt you were looking for, and giddily take it away. He’d just think it had gotten lost somewhere, right?

You take it and threw it up the attic, ready for whatever you were going to do with it. Emphasis on whatever.

You go back downstairs to greet the brothers like nothing happened, you knew you had to do their dishes soon, which you think was your duty—only, Younghoon is pressuring Sunwoo to do them.

“You can’t just not wash your own plate, loser.”

“Why not? I let our dear little sister wash them, all the time,” Sunwoo says with a laugh.

“Sunwoo…” Younghoon sounded like he was losing patience. “Be nice to y/n.”

“No,” Sunwoo retorted, “why should I?”

“You wouldn’t do this if you didn’t like her, though,” Younghoon said in a scolding, all-knowing tone. “If she was ugly you’d leave her alone—you’re too obvious. Have some respect for the person that gave up their room just so you could jack off in it.”

You could see Sunwoo’s face, but from the back you could see that he literally flinched, stepping backwards out of instinct. Younghoon didn’t care. “Now I’ll wash the dishes for tonight, but tomorrow you’ve got no excuses, okay?”

Sunwoo didn’t dare storm away, but he got out of the kitchen as fast as he could; you hid yourself behind the stairs until his footsteps disappeared into your old room.

You felt semi-bad about causing a fight between the brothers, so you gingerly approach Younghoon at the sink, where he was getting the water ready, and offered to fill in for him. “I… usually do those,” you say softly. “Let me?”

“Don’t worry about the dishes,” Younghoon assured you with a smile, “I’ll wash them—or Sunwoo will wash them. For this week, just relax, can you do that for me?”

He reacted to your surprised expression by ruffling your hair like you were a little kid, and then avoided your body to grab the dish-washing gloves.

Can you do that for me? Jesus, it sounds like ‘can you do that for daddy?’ like in every porn you’ve seen before. The way Younghoon stood up for you gave you a knot in your stomach, and not even the bad kind, which you were so concerned about.

Now you feel extra bad for what you were planning to do with his shirt.

~~~

You type in ‘stepbrother’ into the search box, already cringing, toes curled and fists clenched. Eww, you did not want to do this, but your neanderthal brain was telling you otherwise.

The guy in the video is a white guy, so different from Younghoon, but soon he’s feeling up his costar, while she pretends to be unaware. You wondered what you would do if Younghoon did that to you, although he wouldn’t. He was just so clean-cut, and didn't seem to have a hint of perversion in his head.

You started to think of Younghoon’s cock in those plaid boxers again, the thickness of the shaft, the whole head of it, although left to your imagination it grew hot in your mind; you started closing your eyes and teasing your clit with just one finger, thinking more about Younghoon than concentrating on the porn, until it was just a mess of moans to you and it was Younghoon acting it out with you, in your head.

“Yeah, you like your stepbrother’s cock that much?”

You grabbed the shirt now, the fabric thin from being so well-worn, and stuffed the fabric in your mouth, the scent of it—Younghoon’s smell, his detergent and after-shave and just him—around your face reminiscent of what it would be like if he were gagging you, three fingers in your mouth— “shh. You wouldn’t want mom and dad to catch us, would you?” You shivered already, toes curling as the thought of him fills you up the way your fingers filled your cunt up.

With the video still playing, you toyed with yourself mercilessly, as if you were trying to get a rise out of yourself, moans perfectly muffled by the shirt that there was no way either step brother could hear from downstairs.

You came to the thought of Younghoon, his kind eyes turning feral as he watched you this way, hand inside your soaked panties and your pajamas unbuttoned that he could see your chest; you imagined him standing over the mattress, watching like a freakishly tall stalker.

When you open your eyes, he’s not here, and the audio plays blaringly from your headphones as the actors crash into each other, less chemistry than you and Younghoon had. You spit the shirt out of your mouth, his scent still lingering.

“Ah, I love your fat cock!” “Yeah, your tiny cunt is squeezing all my milk out of me—”

You hurriedly close the tab, cringing. Ew, did people actually talk like that during sex? You’d only had it once—the one time you lost your virginity to some kid named Soobin in college—and it was done in complete silence and whispers and coos, nothing like the pornographic monstrosity.

You quickly delete your history from your laptop, in case Sunwoo comes to borrow it again—imagine if he’d found stepbrother porn in your history. He’d get the wrongest idea in the world.

Or what if Sunwoo figured it out? That you were head-over-pussy in love with the older Kim? That would be so fucked up, a new way for him to torment you. You could never let him figure it out.

“I’m having a party,” Sunwoo tells you, as if it wasn’t obvious from the way he was setting up food and beer and one-use cups. He toiled with a beer bottle in one hand, wondering if he should start drinking before anyone even got there. “Just don’t be here because I don’t want my friends making comments about you, or anything. Also, help me set up the chips table first.”

“You’re not in high school anymore, idiot,” you replied, having half a mind to slap the chips bowl out of his hands. But then he’d just make you clean it up. “And I’m not Cinderella to help you with a party I’m not even allowed to go to.”

“Okay, attic rat.” Sunwoo was fluffing up pillows. “Just be gone when they get here, understood?”

You looked around the house—Younghoon had left to meet his friends, and wasn’t there to defend you, and maybe Sunwoo is right, maybe you should haul out, you didn’t want his friends making comments about you, either.

You shot Sunwoo an indignant look, though. “Go fuck yourself.”

“That’s no way to talk to your brother.” He drinks the pre-party beer.

When Younghoon comes home from having coffee with his friends (Jacob and Kevin), it’s late and his house is up in lights and loud with Sunwoo’s new age rap blasting from the speakers, and the smell of alcohol and weed overwhelmed his every sense to the point that he could taste it.

He found his brother smoking with a girl in the back porch, and immediately dragged him back into the house by the nape of his neck, leaving the girl stranded there. “You threw a party?”

“I haven’t had the house to myself since forever—”

“All you gotta do is move out, you sock.” Younghoon looked around the house. “Where’s Y/N? You know if your troublemaker friends see her, it’s gonna be a whole thing.”

“She’s been gone since I told her we were having a party, I think,” says Sunwoo. “I told her to get lost, anyway.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Younghoon chides under his breath, but Sunwoo goes back to drinking his beer out of a used cup like he didn't hear him.

The party was continuing downstairs, and the 2nd floor was more deserted. Sunwoo’s loud rap music seemed to die down slowly as Younghoon got on the 2nd floor… and then started to unlatch the ladder towards the attic.

The sounds muted down completely once he’s in, and he quickly pulled the ladder back up to cover his traces, and also so no one could follow him and interrupt.

He started his routine of rifling through your underwear drawer, last time he got lucky with those pretty pink panties, so now he wanted something else, something just as precious and sweet that makes him cold-sweat from the tension in his lower belly. From the moonlight streaming in from the skylight, he finds a pair of panties, white with a ribbon on them, pretty but cotton instead of lace, and he decides, as good as any other. Younghoon brought it up to his nose, and smelled only the detergent and fabric softener, and not a sense of you.

Needing you desperately, he heads over to the bed, thinking of lying on the same mattress as you, trying to think of what you’d look like all these nights when you touched yourself, whatever you touched yourself to. He crawled on his hands and knees onto the mattress, thumbing over the panties like he would with your skin, until nipples hardened and tight little warm walls twitched.

~~~

You were awoken as you felt movement on the other side of the mattress. You’d fallen into a deep sleep since Sunwoo told you to get lost, thinking you’d crash at a friend’s for the night, but you’d fallen asleep even through the party. Goddamn it. Now who was in your bed?

You rolled over, until you were nose-to-nose with Kim Younghoon himself.

You screamed. “Younghoon?! What are you doing here?” But your bodies were so tangled in your sheets that he couldn’t get away from you, and was in fact actually tied together, you basically on top of him.

“Y—Y/n!”

“What is that you’re holding?” you ask; it’s too small to be a phone. Unless… no way.

Younghoon tries to shake off the feeling, but he’s still frozen in his flight responses, frozen while you touched him and wrestled the fabric out of his fists.

“My panties?!”

Busted. Younghoon’s face was heating up, even if you couldn’t see it in the dark. “I–I was—” he started. “Uh, just… going through your laundry?”

You’re the one frozen now, and Younghoon quickly disentangled himself from the sheets, uncovering the little white mass stuck in the foot of the mattress—holy shit. “Is that my shirt?!”

He picked it up. “It’s stained.” You have no words, so Younghoon looks back at you, grinning maniacally. “Were you being naughty?”

It’s horrible how his entire demeanor could change in a second. Under the blankets, he started to touch you, not even a little shy, grabbing you close by the waist so horribly hot and warm. “Ah, so you were cumming to the thought of me, your step-brother?”

“I—I’m sorry!” you squeaked. “Wait, my panties—are you—are we…?!”

“Do you want me?” Younghoon asks, voice dropping several octaves just so hoarse and sexy. In the dark, he stared at your form with glinting eyes. “I do,” he says when you wouldn’t. “I want you so, so… bad…” His fingers crawled up your bare thighs—you were wearing just a night dress, flimsy and short.

“You don’t even notice me,” you huffed.

Younghoon scoffed it off, although he looked concerned. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, “plus your mom and my dad wouldn’t have liked it if I kept staring at your legs, like Mr. Obvious downstairs. Although, I did stare, when you were just too… juicy to look away from.”

You’re aroused, it showed. “R–really?” you squeaked, trying to keep your hands to yourself. He was still wearing his outside clothes, a button down and actual tailored pants. He smelled like his normal cologne, too.

“You’re a sick, sick, girl, you know? Wanting to be noticed by your step brother…” His free hand cupped your face to make you face him, harsh against your skin. He hummed, as if deriving pleasure just from touching you. “But don’t worry, I won’t punish you or anything. You know I’m the nice one.”

“Younghoon…” Your hands go up to press against his shirt, although not pushing him away, yet.

You hear him hum again, this time with a little giggle. His hand is trailing up your bare thighs, now landing between your legs, at the very core where all the heat and pulsation were coming from… He prods it with just one long middle finger, rubbing against the nub and the slit—although it doesn’t catch your clit to stimulate you, the lewdness of your step dad’s son's hand behind on your bare cunt was doing enough.

“No panties,” he observed with a cocky laugh. “And wet. What, were you dreaming about me?”

You moaned his name again. “Please…” Your hands went to his shirt and grasped onto a bunch of the fabric, like pornstars grabbing on bedsheets. You could feel his heart, and despite his demeanor, it’s pounding so hard in his chest.

“How many fingers do you think you’re ready for?” he asked.

“Um… two.” That’s a good number to start. His fingers are long and thin, but bigger than yours anyway.

“Hmm, you are tight.” He was prodding you with one finger, and when he enters, two fingers in you—it’s almost too tight in you, too much, too soon. Stuffed up inside you, so foreign.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “oppa learnt a lot about making dumb little bunnies like you cum. I bet I can make you cum… hmm…” He flicked your nub, making you squeal. “... with just a flick of my finger.” He’s still laughing at how you were trying to compose yourself, and failing.

Suddenly the door to the attic unlatches, the stairs springing down. Your goddamn attic wasn’t lock-able, from either side. Goddamn it. Younghoon stops everything, his free hand coming up to cup your mouth, eyes wide in alarm. “Shh,” he whispers to you.

It was a couple of Sunwoo’s friends. “I don’t know if I want to go up,” one guy was saying. “There’s spiders, and it’s Kim Sunwoo’s house—who knows what kind of monstrosities he has lying around?”

“You want to do it in his parents’ room?” This was another guy.

Younghoon’s fingers were still inside of you, and slowly, they begin to curl, uncurl, curl… You suppress a moan by biting down on your tongue, but the guttural sounds threatened to spill out of your throat.

To silence you, Younghoon hurriedly planted a kiss to your lips, tongue fighting its way in and taking over yours, when you moan it’s right into his mouth, the sound getting muffled and tortured and he kisses you with more force. His fingers up inside of you are now working faster.

You think you’d scream if he didn’t stop—or also stopped—you shut your legs, but his long, veined arms are persistently still stuck and working between your thighs. When you open your eyes, you see the moonlight catch in his fanged teeth—he’s laughing soundlessly at your plight.

“This is creepy,” the partiers were saying. “I’m high, anyway, I think I’d fall of the ladder if I tried.”

“Right. We’ll go to his parents’ bedroom—if someone hadn’t beat us here.”

Younghoon looked at you, releasing you—both hands now away from you, body pinned against yours. The ladder was still down, the light from down the stairs spilling upwards.

“We should close…” you started to say.

He kissed the back of your ears, one hand pinning your arm down. “Mmm… I like knowing someone could walk in…”

“Hoon, we’re not meant to be doing this, we’ll get in trouble. You’re my step brother.” Now you really sounded like a pornvid reciting its lines.

Younghoon shushed you, parting your legs with his knee. Your bare pussy under his legs, you couldn’t help yourself from grinding against his thigh. “Such a bad girl,” he remarked in a strained voice. “Ah.” He lifted your leg up higher, and took himself out, rubbing the head against your cunt. “You want it?” His voice was still deep from whispering.

You simply nod.

“Use your words…”

“I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Tell me how much of a bad girl you are,” he says, tone still teasingly tantalizing. “Tell me how much you want your big step brother’s cock buried inside you.”

“I want my step brother’s cock in me, I’m so bad. I’m so… hnng, fuck…” You couldn’t reach the bed sheets, so you just grab Younghoon’s shirt again. You were making an untidy mess of his outside clothes, although he still had hair still perfectly parted like for an event, he looks amazing. And he’s inside of you, buried all the way, he zaps his head away from you just to make a guttural grunt. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so bad, you… you know that?” He pulls out, only to slam back in, and you squealed.

“Already? I haven’t even…” He’s now obeying the urgency in your eyes before you can even say ‘faster’. He’s quick and fast and thick and hard in you, and he’s starting to break out in sweat just from the heat of it all.

He tears the rest of the blankets away from your bodies so he could thrust into your pussy easier. You just hear his panting, and just to silence himself, he bites down on your shoulders, and up your neck. You hear “hnngg, yeah~” out of his lips, like he was having a hard time controlling his own pleasure spilling out from him.

You moaned. “Sunwoo’s gonna see these…”

“And think you’re a slut that fucked one of his friends,” Younghoon says. “Is that what you are? A dumb little whore that just spreads her legs for everybody?”

“N—no!” You’re doing everything just to not scream, but it’s excruciating holding it in. “I’m n–not a slut. I’m just a slut for—for you, Hoon…”

Younghoon laughed. “Is that right?”

He switched the position to missionary, holding you underneath him as he pounded your poor cunt, the same way he imagined he would when he was masturbating with your panties. You hear his strained panting again, his lovebites still stinging along your neck. You threw your head back and moaned.

“So, so wet… baby…” It grew sloppier, with sounds of the wetness of your cunt and his precum, disgustingly mixing. Younghoon fucked you harder now, knowing he had to pull out soon. “Fuck… fuck!”

Your hands crawl up from under his shirt, scratching his back. He was so big, every part of him… you sink your nails into his waist. “Ugh, Hoonie…”

He hurriedly took himself out of you, panting, to spill his seed on your stomach. You still had your nightdress on, and the cum got on it, white against white… It’s almost beautiful, a ruin of your innocence. It satisfied Younghoon enough, that he just fell back into the mattress beside you, catching his breath. “I’m… sorry…” he said. “Ugh, I feel like such a bad man.”

You wiped it off your belly with the dress, and then took it off. “No, I liked it,” you reassured him. You put the dress away into the laundry basket, and put on the hoodie that he’d given you, grinning at him. He had his eyes closed, slowly feeling the post-ejeculation clarity.

You crawled over and shut the latch, blocking it with a box so no one could come in. “Seriously, though… Sunwoo might see your hickies,” you say.

“Let him.”

“I don’t want him to call me a slut, to add to everything else he calls me.” There was a truthful sting in your voice that Younghoon felt the pain. He gathered you in his arms, until you were just cradled so tiny in his chest.

“Shh, it’s alright.” Younghoon kissed the side of your face again. “I’ll take care of you, okay? You’ll sleep in my arms tonight.”

“What the hell is that?” Sunwoo demanded at the breakfast table, cups still scattered around the kitchen counter.

“What the hell is what?”

“You got laid last night?”

“Kinda weird that you notice it when you can’t even get your eyes to open from the hangover,” you pointed out, “are you in love with me that much?”

He stuttered. The first time Kim Sunwoo had ever stuttered in his life, although maybe the hangover was giving him a brain fog. “Shut up.”

Younghoon was cutting you strawberries in heart shaped cutters and frying pancakes on another pan. He watched you out of the corner of his eyes, smiling to himself.

“Hey,” Sunwoo whines when Younghoon makes two portions—one for himself and one for you—and leaves him out. “Where’s mine?”

Younghoon pinched your thigh under the table, the way he did last night… you threw your head back and moaned a little from the pain.

“Whatever!” Sunwoo groaned. “I’ll probably just vomit everything back up, anyway—I’m gonna nap.”

As soon as he turned his back, Younghoon inched closer to you on the seat, lips attached to the same place he had sucked hickies on. “This is so fun,” he giggled. “And just the beginning of the whole of it.”

Who wants part 2 where you fuck sunwoo too!! Tell me if i should write it ahahahhaa