itzy oneshots

(6th.m) you x yuna : one kiss won't hurt, right?

published june 28, 2025. 970 words
au
second person pov.

You and your bandmate, Shin Yuna, were in her car, recording a vlog for her YouTube channel she launched months ago. She ultimately decided to add the bonding you two shared while she ran her objective.

Strolling down the beach, you hit an ice cream stop and filmed the bits outside. It included choosing flavors, paying, and a conversation back to the car.

"I just realized how expensive it was for this little bit," you commented,  tilting the one small scoop in the cup toward the camera.

Yuna glanced at you, then the lens. "Why didn't you get a cone, then?" She flexed her strawberry cone, rotating it till she savored the sticky, melting sweetness.

"Because I don't want it everywhere," you shot back and admired the ocean view, blocking the sun from your face momentarily. "It sucks we can't hit the beach. It's so hot." You frowned poutily and sucked your spoon in her direction.

You silently sought solace from her despite her occupied hands. Your strategy was to use her own medicine against her. Her adorable acts work effortlessly with everybody else, so you tend to build the habit yourself.

Instantly, her smile grew wide as she watched you like she was judging your imitation. Those uplifted cheeks and eyes sparkling as bright and big as the stars forced a singular heavier thump upon your heart. Her teeth white and flawless all across made you forget her bunny role.

"What's with the face?" she squealed and nudged you by the shoulder.

"Oh, nothing."

Finally, arriving by the car, she flipped the camera off yet set it by the rearview mirror in case she wanted to document in the car.

She handed you her ice cream cone, dripping all over her fingers as she struggled to enter. "Hold this." Then, she switched on the car.

You ran your tongue around the base of the waffle cone, slurping its contents that seeped through. You swerved by the mouth of the cone as well and cleaned the liquid that oozed off.

Perhaps strawberry isn't so bad after all, you thought. Just then, you noticed she was gaping at you. A twisted face, her breath held, mid-napkin-stroke.

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

You wiped your face with your forearm. "Trying strawberry." Your lips were now sticky, sugary milk drying on your skin. You turned away in embarrassment, juggling the hassle of the ice creams.

You didn't want to create a mess in her car, so you set down your cup in the console. The shameful sensation of Yuna staring elicited a shiver.

You berated, "Are you going to take yours?" and shoved the cone at her, contemplating why she'd stop so suddenly.

She yanked out her phone and swiftly snapped a picture of you, angling the phone your way to capture your mess. Sorted her way, she giggled, "I'm so sending this to Jisu. She's going to laugh her ass off." With a glance, she said, "You will get babied."

"No!" you shouted and urged her to retrieve her cone. "Take it away and finish it. It's yours!"

"Why don't you clean yourself up?" She pointed to the napkins beside her seat.

You rolled your eyes. Mainly because she hadn't even accepted the cone, which leaked everywhere if it weren't for your palm, and additionally the audacity she had to think solely napkins could repair it.

"Just give it," you roared.

She slipped you a paper towel and wrapped it around your hand.

One grip, empty as you reach for it, declined entry by her swat. The other was embraced by hers, also swiped away.

In one motion, she leaned in with that and smashed a hungry kiss onto your mouth, head tilted. If it was to cleanse, she executed it perfectly, tongue deliberately tipping across your lips.

You slightly pressed backward onto the leather, but her torso hovered over the center. Should you push her away? Scream? Freeze with the horror she could taste you?

You tucked your chin and mumbled, "Yuna—" In your head, you wondered what difference things would make if you danced with her. It'd been a long time since you last smooched someone. It was only Yuna after all, your close groupmate, best friend, a real angel.

Hesitantly, you puckered back, nibbling and mashing the delicate flesh together.

She tasted like sugar, her signature lip gloss, and strangely her rich perfume. God, you called to yourself. She was as refreshing as a cold drink.

Her fingers gripped your chin as she sensually pecked your wet lips. Then, when she pulled away, she bit the remaining ice cream with her lips. "Wow, that's sweet." She swallowed hard and chuckled with uncertainty.

Your eyes expanded freakishly wide as she backed away.

"(Y/N), it's just one— You look like you saw a ghost."

You put your finger to your lip. "You... kissed me."

"Is that bad?"

"I—I don't know!"

"Relax." She poked your chest. "Did it hurt you?" she questioned as she returned to the wheel.

"No."

"Well, then..." She emitted a brief laugh. "Maybe throw that away."

"Yuna! Don't tell anybody what you just did." With a moment of silence, you continued, "You better not. Don't joke about it and, yeah, don't do it again," you lectured her and dumped the pastry on top of your cup.

"Why?" she whined, raising an eyebrow with her foot on the pedal.

"Because we aren't..."

"I think you kissed me back there, no?"

At some point, you blamed yourself. She must've been so drawn to the scene of your tongue that she went in herself. Or merely because she disliked the ickiness on your face. Whatever it was, you didn't even mind it. It was just like a reminder of her own being.