#I have been thinking about this song in this context for weeks

[tellmegoodbye]

Hello everyone,

Happy LONE STAR DAY!!

I have a few housekeeping things to talk about before I return to our usual Music Monday format, but I know we're all excited for tonight so I will try to keep this brief.

If you would like to check out our playlist for the countdown event you can find that here.

Since we are getting new episodes now, I thought it would be a cool idea for a new way to participate in the tag. If you have a song that you relate to the new episodes, share them with us!

Please continue to refer to this post for any new Music Monday info, or if you just need a refresher on how the tag works.

Here's a quick overview of what Music Monday is for those of you who are new here. You share your songs that you relate to the show, its characters, storylines, fanfics, etc. All songs are added to their respective playlists and your explanations are added to the docs I have created for each playlist.

Reminder: Make sure to either tag me in your posts OR you can use the 911ls music mondays tag so that I can find and reblog your contributions.

Okay, now that we've got that out of the way, onto my songs for the week!

---

Leave Out All The Rest - Linkin Park

I dreamed I was missing You were so scared But no one would listen Cause no one else cared After my dreaming I woke with this fear What am I leaving When I'm done here?

Don't be afraid I've taken my beating I've shared what I've made I'm strong on the surface Not all the way through I've never been perfect But neither have you So, if you're asking me, I want you to know

When my time comes Forget the wrong that I've done Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed And don't resent me And when you're feeling empty Keep me in your memory Leave out all the rest

This song is a reflection on the way we live our lives and how we will be remembered when we're gone. When I think about these lyrics in the context of Lone Star, they could really apply to any character, but Gabriel is who specifically comes to my mind for this song.

To me, this is Gabriel's message to Carlos. He's spent a lot of time reflecting on his own mistakes and has struggled to express the love he has for his son, but he hopes that Carlos will remember him as someone who never stopped trying and who always strived to be better. He didn't always get it right, but he looks at Carlos and feels so much love and pride, and he wants Carlos to know that and to see that.

Zzyzx Rd. - Stone Sour

Propped up by lies and promises Saving my place as life forgets Maybe it's time I saw the world

I'm only here for a while But patience is not my style And I'm so tired that I gotta go

What am I supposed to hide now? What am I suppose to do? Did you really think I wouldn't see this through Tell me I should stick around for you Tell me I could have it all I'm still too tired to care and I gotta go

I'm over existing in limbo I'm over the myths and placebos I don't really mind if I just fade away

I'm ready to live with my family I'm ready to die in obscurity 'Cause I'm so tired that I gotta go

This is a song written from the perspective of someone struggling with addiction. The narrator addresses his loved ones with a sort of brutal honesty about his feelings towards life, but it's also a song about love and support at the same time. It's about someone who is there for you even when you're in your worst moments and can't see a way out.

This song reminds me of TK and Owen in s1. Owen is ready to do whatever he has to do in order to help TK, and TK lets him in as much as he can, but these lyrics are also an realistic viewpoint on the state of his mental health in the aftermath of his suicide attempt. He knows Owen loves him and is there for him, but he still needs to find that healing outside of that support.

Impossible - Nothing But Thieves

Love, it stings and then it laughs At every beat of my battered heart A sudden jolt, a tender kiss I know I'm gonna die of this And that's because

I could drown myself in someone like you I could dive so deep I never come out I thought it was impossible But you make it possible

I'll take the smooth with the rough Feels so fucked up to be in love Another day, another night Stuck in my own head but you pull me out You pull me out

I really hit y'all with a couple angsty gems today, so I should probably round this post out with a more upbeat song. This song screams Tarlos to me, and reminds me of the early days of their relationship where everything is new and overwhelming, but it also just feels right at the same time. They've come to that realization that what they have is something special, and that they might have found their soulmate. Before they met, such a notion felt impossible to them.

@strandnreyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @herefortarlos

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[corpsentry]

there’s something so epic about hetero chinese period dramas and i think one part of it is that there is absolutely nowhere in the narrative i could exist.

lately i’ve been on a western media detox— i’ve cleaned english language music out of my playlists and have never been able to stomach western dramas anyway, so that part is easy— which might seem funny, because if i’m in singapore and i hate it and i won’t touch american music then what’s left? the answer is the false binarism of chinese period dramas, at least for me. the badly written ones are misogynistic and stupid and the better ones are less of those things, but regardless the world that emerges is clean-cut and easy to parse. there’s someone to root for and someone to hate. there’s a girl and a boy. there’s the comedy and the drama, the sheer thick drama, the music that signals to you precisely how to feel before the scene even starts going

try to jam a fifth culture transnational transgender they/them with 2 mental illness and 1 autoimmune disease into this world and it simply doesn’t work. and that’s kinda epic lolzers! it’s like watching high fantasy, or super hardcore sci-if. it both represents a simulacrum of the real world and is so far from the reality you know that you understand it as a hypothetical universe, one that disincludes you on principle. i exclude myself from the story and in doing so fangfei from moyuyunjian’s steely gaze becomes all the more important. i give so many shits and laugh and yell and spectate. but i am safe from the eyes of its inhabitants. if i entered the story it would break. so i sit outside of it, clapping by myself

in other news, we gave up on mysterious lotus casebook 16 episodes in. there are many character archetypes in these shows that i can no longer stand; the salacious sexy seductive supervillain lady is not necessarily one of them but the way they did miss ‘this man didn’t even Look at me when all men fall at my knees so i hated him’ ‘no one is allowed to steal buttchin from me’ jiao was way up there. surely a woman can have multiple personality traits and yet you would think from this drama that that is not at all true. and the strange harem that grew around li lianhua despite his absolute loser attitude— like i get it, he’s the gintoki of this show, that’s hot, but the way the women who were into him were written made me want to Eat Horse. it bothered me that di feisheng and lianhua’s homo as fuck dynamic was so intriguing and them + fang duobing was a winning trio but all the women in the show were written like complete fucking ass, and one of the big antagonists being a woman, the stakes throughout were not only lost to me but also Pissed Me Off. also, that case about the corpse flowers dragged on forever and all my pocky wilted

I Just Think, women deserve better in these damn stories. make them slutty as hell, sure, but make them other things too and i mean this in the most generous sense. slutty and proud. slutty and weird. slutty and oblivious. literally anything at all so they don’t come out cardboard flat from all angles. this is why i have a personal vendetta against the ditzy clueless female protagonist as well because if everything stems from the fact that she doesn’t know shit it’s like please someone Please tell her shit i’m on my hands and knees begging. give her more to chew on she’s dying of boredom over there

this is why i liked the so called antagonist of blossoms in adversity best (spoilers ahead). he was cruel as hell to huazhi and gu yanxi’s only parental figure. he was paranoid and selfish and lonely and craved a son’s love from the one person he couldn’t hold onto. in the end he is pushed further and further by huazhi, who won’t give in, to isolate yanxi from the people he loves and to lash out at those people as a way of punishing yanxi. and when he dies it’s because of his own distrust, his own negligent parenting, his absent cruelty from decades of insomnia and lack of faith in his people. but he cries for yanxi, and there’s something so human about that. to think of evil not as a first principle but rather an adjective for a verb that is set in motion by other events. to be honest, i haven’t seen such thoughtful writing in any chinese period drama before or after that and i strongly suspect i will never see such writing again in this genre but man, it was so fucking good (spoilers end).

in the meantime, i’ve dragged my mother to moyuyunjian/the double for the return casting of liu xiening and wang xingyue who are Eating so hard. they’ve got wang xingyue done up with the sluttiest makeup and liu xiening is breaking my heart with her pout and her Sassy Mean constitution and this is a revenge story, yes, but it’s a double revenge story. it’s a grief story. and fangfei is carrying more on her shoulders than lingbuyi imo, and doing so with much more grace too. her step mom’s a dick but she’s a smart, 5d chess playing dick who wears hot shades of green so i’m personally interested enough to keep watching (something lotus casebook DID NOT accomplish with their epic female antagonist…. mein gotte). and the princess too. unhinged as hell but god, so charismatic. and beautiful, with scary big eyes and the sweetest head tilt. fun fun fun! that’s fun character writing right there. the comedy might be too straightforward for my tastes but everything else is kind of hot and sexy And after the coming of age ceremony when jiangli appeared amidst the flowers i felt my throat close up even though we saw her for all of one (1) episode). i was like yes. they got me alright. i Care now

really that’s all that matters isn’t it. we want stories about people we care for. we want to give a shit. why else would we listen to the stories of other people. we are looking for us and the people we love in them

oh also moyuyunjian soundtrack goes hard as hell i love a little three step waltz. here’s a pic from the ‘gym’ for ur time. guten night

[musical-chick-13]

Always very interesting when my mother asks for my opinion on singers, because a) why does she act like I am the Sole Authority who knows everything™, and b) she always seems a bit surprised when I extend people grace and don't pick apart or cruelly judge every single one of their flaws.

[greenpixiedust]

you know when you're that kind of sad where you're not sure if it's grief, burnout, depression, or just your hormones fucking with you?

[inkskinned]

i love finding out how big this world is. my girlfriend has only visited boston a handful of times, but i grew up here. i told her we'd be going to do the tourist traps in salem, and she said - which salem?

to be fair to her, there are a lot of other states that have a town named "salem." and i think there's some evidence that the witch trials actually happened in what is now called Danvers. but the thing is - she thought "salem" was like, a made-up thing. there wasn't actually a salem, massachusetts - like there isn't a gotham city.

they don't talk about it that much where she grew up, is the thing! and this made me laugh. a week ago she was talking about her hometown and said something akin to "well the museum's kinda like the one in richmond," and i had to explain i still had no frame of reference for what the hell this museum was like.

i love finding out what knowledge i take for granted. i used to live with 5 other women. 3 of them were from south korea. they had to take, like, a solid fifteen minutes to explain their birthday system to my gay math-blind ass, laughing as they did.

that same month, our roommate from denmark taught me the danish word for wreath by accident - she'd been talking about decorations, used krans, and i'd been able to figure it out through context. i just picked it up and kept talking. our entire house used krans as the word. she came home and slammed the door one evening, mock-angry, shouting: you motherfuckers! it's a - a wreath!

and how often do you use certain words, anyway! i am cuban, so i was raised with certain spanish words sort of sprinkled in there; but never how you'd think. in middle school i asked someone to pass me the recogedor - in a completely american accent, like i was speaking english. i hadn't registered it as a spanish word. i mean, how often in school do you actually use the word "dustpan" - i'd only ever heard it in the context of cleaning my house.

there are places that you grew up that you, just, like, know. that you assume everyone knows. there are things and people and "common knowledge" that you have that, just, like. doesn't exist for me. i don't know what you call your public transportation system, but in boston we call it "the T". our train cards are called charlie cards because of a song where a father accidentally abandons his family, which was written because our system of transportation. in boston, most people would snort and say everyone knows that, kid.

i think you and i should go on a long walk - it's getting dark early these days and we need any sun we can manage. tell me about the first time you saw snow. tell me about the stuff everyone knows about your home. tell me about the cities "everyone's been to," about the food "everyone's already tried." who knows. maybe it will feel nice to you - watching someone learn about it for the very first time.

[222col]

is it casual now?

★ patrick zweig x reader ★ based on the song 'casual' by chappell roan (rlly reccomend listening first!!) ★ 5.2k ★ 18+ | inc: angst (!!!), smut, m + f oral, public sex, breeding ★ an: patrick is a college student & also has a sister for context (part two)

patrick's barely dressed as he starts to leave, picking up his phone from your desk, opening the door before turning round to look at you once more. "oh yeah, my family want you to come to our beach house this weekend." no emotion on his face as he stands in your doorway. "they do or you do?" you question, sitting up in your bed, blanket covering your body. "my sister told my mom how much you helped her the other week, so they wanted you to come, you don't have to." he's fiddling with his keys, aching to leave your room. "okay, just text me the details." patrick nods to you and darts down the hall. getting yourself dressed before calling your best friend.

"sounds like his sister wants you there, not him." she tells you down the phone. "well maybe, but he could have just told them no or not invited me." you're pacing your room, desperately trying to defend your excitement for a weekend with patrick. "ugh, why are you so hung up on this guy? you're being such a loser, you know he told you no strings." you've had this conversation with your best friend so many times, yet the words just don't get through to you. "i know, i know. i just like him, okay? i think it could go somewhere." you hear her sigh through the phone. "have you heard the things he tells his friends about you?" you hold your breath, knowing this isn't going to be good. "he calls you a slut, an easy one at that, i heard him talking to art about it at tennis." you sink onto the floor, back leaning against your wall. "i'm sorry, i know it's awful to hear, but you need to get it into your head, that he doesn't think of you like that."

patrick picks you up friday afternoon, driving you both to his parents' beach house. his hand on your thigh as you stare out the window. "what's up with you? normally you would have dragged me into the back seat by now." patrick questions. "well this all just feels weird, you're driving us to spend a weekend with your parents, i feel like your girlfr-" patrick doesn't even let you finish your sentence. "we're not together." you shake your head and return your gaze to the window. "yeah, you've made that very clear, don't you worry." turning up the radio so patrick doesn't return with a sarcastic comment or dig any further. the rest of the journey is silent between the two of you, the radio serving as a distraction, after a few hours you pull up to patrick's parents' house. his younger sister is waving at you both from the front door. you met her at a frat party patrick brought her along to, the two of you got on well, and you helped her when some frat boys were being way too forward.

grabbing his own bag from the car, he leaves you to collect your own from the trunk. "not even gonna help this nice young lady with her bags, some gentleman i raised you to be." patrick's father says, appearing on the porch. patrick snatches your bag from your hands before pushing his way into the house, introducing yourself to his parents, patrick's sister shows you to your room. "you'll be sharing with patrick, obviously." she states, pushing open the door of the room. "what?" you question, patrick rolling his eyes and pulling you into the room, closing the door on his sister. "i can't exactly tell my parents we're fuck buddies, can i?"

later that night, patrick brings you with him to a bonfire on the beach with some of his friends that live nearby. "zweig, it's been too long." he's engulfed into the reunions but just about remembers to introduce you to his friends. beers are shared as marshmallows are toasted on the fire, all of you sat on logs and in the sand. one of patrick's friends coming to sit next to you as patrick catches up with his neighbour. "so, are you and patrick, like, together?" he asks you, he's not bad looking, so you think about entertaining him. "no, we just fuck." you laugh into your can of beer, taking another swig. "you're single then?" he asks you, shuffling closer. looking to him and nodding, his eyes lighting up. a shiver runs down your spine, making you realise how cold you are. "here, take this." he places his jacket over your shoulders, you could dream of patrick doing such a chivalrous act. slipping your arms through the sleeves and thanking him. "you're really pretty, by the way." that's all it takes. your lips lean up to kiss him. the only compliments you get are from patrick while he's inside you or frat boys as they spank your ass at parties. his hands wrap around your waist before you feel yourself being dragged away from his lips.

patrick pulls you off down the beach by your arm, stopping in his tracks when his friends are out of ear shot, looking down at you, his chest rising. "what the fuck are you doing?" he asks you, his words harsh. "i was making out with that guy before you interrupted." you return, arms crossed. "may i remind you that you're here with me, not some random fucker you just met?" you can feel his breath on your face as he speaks. "and may i remind you that we're not together, and i can kiss who i like?" patrick loves it when your bitchy side comes out, but right now he can't acknowledge it. eye contact hasn't broken once between you, titling your head as you wait for patrick's response. nothing slips from his lips before he grabs your face and pushes his mouth onto yours. hungrily kissing you, pushing your body back until you hit the rocks, his hand reaching under your skirt. "your friends are right there." you groan into his ear, looking back to look you in the eyes as his hand slips into your underwear. "do i look like i care?"

his fingers stroke up through your folds. "neither do you, by the feel of things." patrick hums, bringing his fingers to his lips as he sucks the wetness from between his digits, before pushing them into your mouth. smiling and nodding his head as he removes his fingers and slips them back into your underwear, inserting his two middle fingers into your cunt. the rocks disguising your bodies from patrick's friends, but you know if they looked closely enough they'd see everything. quiet moans leave your lips as patrick fucks you with his fingers, his other hand coming up to cover your mouth. "shut the fuck up, or do you want all my friends to see you riding my fingers?" patrick's fingers move at pace, curling up to hit your g-spot as he sucks bruises onto your neck. bringing his thumb up to circle your clit, leaning down to palm him through his shorts, grabbing and rubbing his cock through the fabric. "you want it, don't you?" patrick smirks, as you softly nod your head. "you want me to fuck you here on the beach, up against these rocks as my friends stand twenty feet away?" he can feel you smirking under his hand, just nodding your head. "god, where did you come from?" he moans, pulling his hands off your body to shuffle his shorts down his body. looking over to his friends, who are all engrossed in a drinking game of some kind, he lifts your leg, holding it up against the rocks, pushing your panties to the side as he pushes himself into your cunt.

leaning his elbow on the rock behind your head to keep himself steady, his hand covering your mouth again as his hips slap against your skin, thrusting himself in and out of you. even his hand pushing into your face can barely contain the noises you're making. "shut up." he groans into your ear, slamming himself into you. his cock filling you up as his friends are none the wiser. "hmm, this is so fucking hot, baby." patrick whispers to you, his breathing heavy, sweat forming on his skin as he keeps fucking you. rocks digging into your back as patrick's weight falls onto your body, his thrusts getting sloppy. pulling out of you suddenly to push you onto your knees, cuts and grazes form on the skin as the sharp rocks pierce your fall. forcing his cock into your mouth as he holds the back of your head, fucking your face before shooting his load down your throat. "fuck- such a good girl."

pulling up his shorts quickly, and helping you onto your feet. kissing you deeply before walking back over to his group of friends. sitting down on one of the logs, pulling you onto his knee. you try to hide your furrowed brows from him, not used to this affectionate side of patrick. it's rare that he kisses you after you've had sex, let alone pulling you onto his knee in front of his friends. "god, what happened to your knees?" one of patrick's friends asks, handing you both another can of beer. patrick can't help the shit eating grin form on his face, looking down at your knees to see them covered in blood. "oh, i just fell over onto the rocks, no biggie." patrick kisses your cheek, opening his can of beer, whispering into your ear. "sorry baby, didn't mean to be so rough with you." you really can't hide your reaction this time, either patrick's had more to drink than you thought or he actually feels bad for making you bleed.

a couple more drinking games later, patrick walks the two of you back up to his parents' house. patrick didn't let you sit anywhere other than his lap the rest of the night. entering patrick's bedroom, he walks over to the small en-suite, wetting a towel and starts cleaning up your knees as you take off your sandy clothes. "why are you being so weird?" you finally ask him. he looks up at you from his position on the floor by your feet. "i'm not?" he returns. "you're looking after me, kissing me in front of your friends, that is very weird, actually." patrick chews the inside of his cheek, wiping the blood from your knees as you wince at the sting. "i don't know, am i not allowed to do those things?" he's not looking at you anymore, focusing his attention on cleaning you up. "yeah, you can, it's just confusing." he throws the towel into the laundry hamper, along with yours and his clothes. you slip into an oversized t-shirt as patrick gets into bed in just his boxers, turning off the light as you lay together in darkness. "i'm not the only one being weird, you kissed my friend in front of me, that's pretty confusing too." patrick mumbles, the two of you facing each other, the moon light barely allowing you to see each others faces. "whatever, don't worry about it." patrick adds on, turning around to go to sleep.

the next morning is as though nothing happened the night previous, you and patrick spending the day at the beach with his sister. playing tennis and swimming, having fun. patrick's parents shouting over after lunch that they've booked a table at the restaurant down the road for dinner. checking the time on your phone, you head back to get ready. you hear a slap against patrick's arm as you leave the beach. "how are you not in a relationship with her?" you overhear patrick's sister ask him as you head towards the house, smirking as you go. showering before doing your make up and getting dressed, slipping a white dress onto your body, checking yourself in the mirror as patrick walks into the bedroom. "you look beaut-" he stops his words, coughing as he continues. "hot, you look hot." he corrects himself, showering quickly and changing into a button up and jeans as you finish off curling your hair.

the five of you arrive at the restaurant, enjoying glasses of wine as patrick's parents' learn more about you. his hand on your thigh under the table as they ask about your major at college and how you spend your free time. before dessert you excuse yourself to the bathroom, hearing patrick tell his family that he's going for a smoke. closing the door to the sole bathroom of the restaurant, patrick's foot stopping it from closing. pushing himself into the room quickly. "what are you doing?" you ask, as he locks the door behind the two of you. "i need you." he mumbles, pushing you up against the wall as his lips attack yours. "patrick, we're literally at dinner with your parents, can you not wait until we get home?" you protest, his hands groping your chest as he suckles the skin on your exposed collarbones. "no, need you now." groaning as he moves your hand onto his crotch. "can't you see how much you're turning me on? you look so good tonight." you've never seen him so desperate, so needy for you. finally giving in, palming him through his jeans. spinning you around, pushing you up against the sink, grinding against your ass as he pulls your dress up. the fabric bunching around your waist, your panties pulled down your legs. you hear the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor, his cock hitting your clit as he pushes your legs open. looking into your eyes through the mirror in front of you as he pushes himself into your hole. one hand on your hips as the other instinctively covers your mouth. staring at you in the reflection as he pounds himself into you, looking back at him through the mirror too. watching him come apart behind you as he loses himself in the moment.

"god, you feel so fucking good, baby." he groans into your neck, his cock filling you up as your hips repeatedly hit the sink, bruising your skin. patrick's calloused hands trapping every sound that leaves your lips, making you so conscience of the reality of the situation. holding in your cries and moans as he pumps in and out of you. "you're so fucking perfect, fuck- i love you." you can feel your heart sink at patrick's words, as he's barely even aware they left his mouth. the grip he has on your waist tightening, his fingernails digging into the skin. your chest rising and falling, breathing deeper, focusing on his dick filling you up, desperate to not acknowledge his words. he didn't mean it, he can't mean it, he's just caught up in the moment, you have to tell yourself. his hand slips from your mouth to grasp the other side of your waist, pulling you back into him as he keeps thrusting into you. no moans leave your mouth, just hot breaths, so fixated on patrick's confession. he pulls you back onto him once more as his load shoots up inside you, groans leaving his lips as he does.

patrick holds you there for a second, before pulling out of you, his come beginning to drip out from you. frozen on the spot until he starts pulling up his jeans. i love you. the words are spinning around your head. he kisses your cheek before doing up his belt. "i'll meet you back at the table." he winks, slipping out of the bathroom. cleaning yourself up as you pull your underwear back up your legs. checking yourself in the mirror before rejoining the table with patrick's family, mere seconds before he does. "i wish you'd stop smoking, pat." his mother says, frowning at her son. "i know, i know." he mumbles back, swigging from his glass. patrick and his sister go for a walk on the beach when you all get back to the house, leaving you alone in his room. changing into your pjs, packing away your things, ready for the drive back to college the next day. it's late by the time patrick slips into bed, assuming you're asleep next to him, he places a kiss on your forehead. "goodnight, sweet girl." so grateful for the darkness as your cheeks flush, being pulled onto patrick's chest as the two of you fall asleep.

waking up on opposite sides of the bed, the two of you get ready to leave his parents' beach house. thanking his parents for being so accommodating and hugging his sister goodbye. "i like her for you, patrick." you hear his mom tell him during their goodbyes, smiling and waving as you both enter his car, beginning the drive home. "they like you." he says, one hand on the wheel, the other squeezing your thigh. "that's nice. i'm glad." you mumble out the window, his eyes darting between you and the road. he rolls his eyes at your bluntness and carries on driving, pulling into a gas station after a little while on the road. filling up the tank while you use the bathroom, coming back out to see him leaning on the car, phone to his ear. he throws you his wallet, nodding towards the clerk, signalling you to go pay. "yeah, fucked her in the bathroom of the restaurant too." he laughs into his phone. "i know, my parents just sat at the table none the wiser." ignoring the words that weren't meant for your ears, you enter the store, grabbing a redbull and paying for the gas. walking back over to the parked car, patrick still laughing into his phone. "i know man, she's so fucking dirty, maybe i'd let you fuck her and you can really see what i mean."

holding back your tears as the whispers of i love you slip through your fingers, jumping into the car, slamming the door behind you. patrick turning around at the sound, rushing himself off the phone and into the drivers seat. pulling out of the gas station as he questions your actions. your knees are up to your chest, hugging your legs as he drives. "why did you just slam my door?" patrick asks, staring over to you. "i didn't mean to." you grumble, refusing to look over to him. "yeah right, you've been acting like a bitch since last night." he rolls his eyes, knuckles tight on the steering wheel. "whatever, no i haven't." aching for patrick to just ignore your reactions and drive you home. he sighs and pulls into a old dirt road, turning off the car and manoeuvring his body to face you. stating your name as he undoes your seatbelt. "will you just tell me what's going on?" you ignore him, pushing your emotions down. grabbing your legs, he brings your body round to face him. he's smiling softly at you, waiting on your words. when you still don't reply, he leans over and places his lips on yours. trying desperately to resist his kiss, but it's inevitable, you melt into him. anger and sadness and lust wash over you, your hands on the back of his head, kissing him like you'll never be able to again. his lips travel down you, his body contorting to position his head between your legs. dipping under your skirt, pulling your underwear to the side, humming as his face pushes into your cunt.

licking a line through your folds, swallowing the wetness on his tongue as he licks over your clit. your head leaning on the window, hands in his hair, moaning out his name. "my name sounds perfect when you moan it like that." patrick whispers against you, tonguing your clit, sloppy kisses placed there as his fingers push inside you. the radio playing is overshadowed by the mewls escaping your lips. his dark curls tickling your thighs as your fingers scratch at his scalp. your hips bucking onto his face, grinding against him as his tongue laps you up. his nose bumping over your clit as your thighs clench around him. the sunlight through the windows highlighting the wetness over his face, his blue eyes looking up at you, smirking into your cunt. his fingers curling up as your body jolts, orgasm washing over you, whimpering his name as he removes his tongue. slipping out his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. smiling at you as you suck the taste of yourself off his digits. smoothing your skirt back down as patrick repositions himself in the drivers seat. he laughs, wiping the wetness of you from his chin. the two of you smiling at each other, putting your seatbelts back on as patrick reverses up the dirt road, carrying on with the drive home.

the two of you laugh and talk the whole way home, arriving at your dorm as patrick grabs both of your bags out of his car. "can i stay the night? i can't be bothered walking to my dorm." he asks, his car already locked and keys in his pocket. "patrick, your dorm is like a five minute walk away." you laugh at him, grabbing your room keys from your purse. "please?" it's so rare that patrick's soft like this, you've seen it more this weekend, and you've learnt you can't say no to it. "sure." you smile, leading you both to your room. dropping your bags by your desk, patrick slumps onto your bed, pulling you on top of him. "this weekend was nice." he mumbles, nuzzling his head into your neck. "yeah, your family are nice." you say, avoiding the idea of acknowledging any of the new found emotions between the two of you. "my sisters cool, my parents are fine." he responds, keeping your body on top of his, arms wrapped around you. "it was cool having you there to distract me." you'd assume he means with sex, but his tone tells otherwise. luckily your phone starts ringing before you can confess to patrick how much you enjoyed the time with him. "hey, yeah, we just got back, me and patrick are just at my dorm." you talk into the phone to your best friend, sitting up on the edge of the bed. patrick kissing the back of your shoulders as you speak. smiling back at him as you listen to your friend.

"when?" you ask down the phone, patrick peering up at you, furrowed brows. "yeah sure, i'll ask patrick if he wants to come. see you later." putting the phone down, turning to face patrick, his head on your pillow. "ask me to come where?" he smiles at you, arm snaking around your hips. "a party, tonight. do you wanna go?" patrick grins widely, nodding his head at your words. patrick heads to your bathroom to shower, sitting at your desk to do your make up. wishing for some time alone to process your weekend at patrick's beach house, to really consider his words and actions, to force yourself out of this idea you've created that patrick could actually like you. but knowing you'd never send him away, it's like your addicted to him. unable to tell him no, wanting to savour every moment with him, not knowing when he's going to snap back to his old ways of leaving you naked on your bed as he darts home. enjoying these domestic moments you and patrick are sharing, feeling like his girlfriend, playing house before his attention is drawn elsewhere.

pulling your denim mini skirt over your hips, and readjusting your crop top, patrick re-enters your room. zipping up the fly of his jeans and pulling down his polo. "are you trying to kill me?" he asks, mouth slightly agape as he breaths out deeply. you laugh, applying another layer of lip gloss. "what do you mean?" you ask, leaning down to your mirror. "you look so fucking good." patrick states, spanking your ass as he sits to put his shoes on. laughing as you do up the small buckles on your heels, putting your phone into your purse and heading out the door. patrick laces his fingers through yours as you walk down the hall of your dorm, heading for the frat house hosting the party. looking down at your joined hands, then up to patrick. "what? your hands are soft." even patrick doesn't believe the reasoning he gave as you laugh at his words. "whatever, i can fuck you but not hold your hand? is that how this works?" patrick laughs as you shake your head, tightening your grip on his hand and heading off campus.

your best friend is waiting outside for you when you arrive, patrick dropping your hand as you walk up the pathway. "i'll meet up with you later okay? i'm still staying at yours so don't leave without me." patrick winks to you as he enters the house. hugging your friend as she sighs at patrick's words. she leads you into the back garden, handing you a white claw and kicking some frat boys off the garden furniture. you tell her everything about the weekend, her eyes rolling and brows furrowing as you explain the details. "he told you he loved you?!" she almost shouts, shushing her immediately. "keep your voice down!" you return, checking your surroundings for patrick, luckily he's nowhere to be seen. "it was during the bathroom hook up, i don't think he meant it." she breathes sharply, opening another can of white claw for each of you. "well, have you talked to him about it?" she asks, handing you the can. "no, oh my god, no!" shaking your head as you swig your drink. the two of you continue gossiping about your time away with patrick, laughing your way through more drinks. heading inside to the kitchen to get more alcohol and have a dance together, your best friend stops you in your tracks. "don't turn around." she holds you in place. "what? why?" you ask, forcing your way out of her grip and spinning on your heels.

in the corner of the kitchen stands patrick, his arms laced around a blonde, kissing her lips. her hands in his hair, bodies pushed together. your heartbeat fastens, eyes closing slowly as you take in the scene before you. shoulders dropping, watching patrick's hands caress her skin. "c'mon, let's go back outside, he's an asshole." your best friend says, barely hearing her over the ringing in your ears. she picks up a bottle of vodka from the kitchen counter and pulls you back outside. your eyes welling up, sitting back down on the plastic chair, sipping from the bottle she hands you. stealing a cigarette from the boy smoking next to you, she lights it and hands it to you. "fuck him, okay? he's fucking awful, you can do so much better." her words barely getting through to you, hands shaking as you bring the cigarette up to your lips. "but he told me he-" she knows what you're going to say, cutting you off before you can finish. "don't. you can't think about that right now." she tells you, leaning over, stroking your knee. a single tear falls from your eye, wiped away by your friend before it can reach your cheek. she sits with you quietly, letting you get yourself together. wiping away your tears and collecting your breathing. "do i look okay?" you ask her, stubbing out the cigarette. smiling at you like a cheshire cat, she stands up. "you look hot. c'mon, let's show that asshole what he's missing."

holding your hand, the two of you enter the group of people dancing, swaying together and letting your hips around to the music. letting some semi-hot frat boy pull your back to his chest, arm snaked around your hips as you grind onto him. your friend running to the bathroom as frat boy's lips press to your neck, eyes forward as you see patrick leaning against the wall. his eyes on you, between all the bodies blocking the path to each other. smirking, drinking his beer as you continue dancing, eyes never leaving his.

the night continues like this, patrick alone watching you from the sidelines as you dance the night away. the party starts to clear as patrick comes over to you and your best friend, both of you ready to call it a night. "c'mon, let me take you both home." he sighs, ready for you to fight him on the idea, but you don't, you can't. "fine." the three of you walk in silence, heels being carried in your hand. you and patrick walk your friend to her door, before carrying on down the hall to your dorm. the two of you enter your room, dropping your shoes and bag on the floor and sitting on your bed, back leaning against the wall. patrick moves your desk chair to sit opposite you. "what's going on? why were you dancing with that guy all night?" he questions. "what's it to you? you were kissing that girl anyway, surprised you didn't go home with her instead." your words hiss, the alcohol in your system bypassing any filters you would typically adhere to. patrick scoffs at you, leaning forward, elbows balanced on his knees. "i didn't know you saw that." he says, his words soft, almost guilty. you shrug your shoulders, bringing your legs up to your stomach, chin resting on your knees. "you told me you loved me." you whisper, as though saying it any louder would make tears fall from your eyes. "what? speak up." patrick asks, shuffling the chair closer to the bed. taking a deep breath in you repeat yourself. "you told me you loved me."

patrick's eyes flutter closed, lip between his teeth. "i didn't mean it." he lies to you, not that he'd ever admit it was a lie. tears slowly fall from your eyes, grasping your legs tighter. "but you-" you whisper again, before patrick cuts you off. "i didn't mean it, okay? we're not together, we fuck, we're fuck buddies, there's no strings." his words are like daggers, your eyes closed, tears slipping out through your lashes. "okay." is all you can muster, finally looking him in the eyes. his heart breaking at the sight of you. "can you please leave?" you ask him, your head falling down onto your knees. as if looking at his face would break your heart into smaller pieces. "yeah, okay." his words are heavy, refusing to look up as he stands and grabs his dufflebag. opening the door to leave, turning to look at you once more, but your eyes stay planted into your lap. sighing, he closes the door behind him.

falling onto your side, the tears falling faster from your eyes now, hugging the pillow that still smells like him. so angry that you let yourself fall for his charm, disgusted at yourself that you really believed he could love you, and just so sad knowing all you wanted to do was say it back. hating yourself for letting it drag on so long. falling asleep in your mini skirt and crop top, eyes puffy as you know that'll be the last time you see patrick zweig.

[featguler]

we don't talk about it ────── you don't have the time — arda tries convincing you to come to his game.

♡ ────── pairing : arda güler x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. situationship!arda guler. reader speaks turkish n is speaking turkish with arda in this. angsty i guess??? i keep asking myself why i keep on giving him these stressful situationship scenarios omfg ♡ ────── wordcount : 715 ♡ ────── notes : more situationship arda i literally dc. also sorry for not posting in a while im tiiiired with work and my intern!! >:(( title is from august by flipturn!! ♡ masterlist.

“So you can’t come?”

Arda breathes into the mic, his eyes immediately fluttering close as he hears shrugging on your end, his phone trapped between his shoulders and his ears.

“Yeah.”

Arda tries imagining you right now. He tries imagining the expression on your face, he tries imagining what you are doing—swaying around, sitting down, biting your nails, rolling your eyes—and he lets his fantasies feed more into his imminent heartbreak.

He is in the changing room. Practice was rough that day, though he thinks that maybe it’s just him. Brahim seems to be having the time of his life, and Federico is somewhere talking to Antonio about the shenanigans that his kids, plural now that the youngest have turned one, have been up to lately.

And the room is far from quiet.

It’s alive—full of Eduardo chanting a Spanish song that Vinícius just taught him, full of Jude giggling as he texts his family group chat, and it’s full of Arda’s ailing heart beating against his ribs.

“Sorry,” you mumble to his speaker. Normally, Arda would find a way to voice his disappointment; he would click his tongue, he would thump his head against the wall, he would hang the call and scream into his mouth. But not right now.

“It’s in a week,” he tries negotiating, “not a week, even. 10 days. It’s in 10 days.”

The background noise increases—maybe he’s hallucinating—and Arda decides that he wouldn’t let anyone notice his distress.

No.

A part of him is embarrassed that he’s mulling so much over someone who he has been pining for for ages. He wonders if his older teammates, like Toni or Luka, know what a situationship is. His mother certainly does not. He asked her.

And sure there’s nuances and context in every relationship, but it somehow feels humiliating to explain to his teammates that he’s sad over someone who he is crushing on, but is technically going out with, but also not dating, yet is in a relationship with.

“I know, Arda,” he hears something shifting on your end. “It’s just that I promised my friend that we would go hang out.”

“You can hang out at the Bernabeu,” he encourages, still, his voice light despite the disappointment anchoring his chest. “I’ll get you the tickets.”

Arda opens one eye and watches the changing room, making sure that nobody is giving him their time of day.

“I asked you a few days ago,” he mutters quietly, rubbing the back of his neck rather harshly at the pent up frustration he’s developed every time he speaks to you. “I mean, I asked you first. It’s not fair.”

“Not fair?”

You echo him, and Arda lets out a rather long, extravagant sigh.

“Sorry.”

“We’re not—” you sigh. “Not fair? And whose fault do you think that is?”

Arda bites his lips, thinking over his words.

“Sorry.” He sighs again. “My fault. It’s my fault.”

“Right,” you huff into the speaker.

“Right,” he repeats, before uttering out a weak, “I miss you.”

You didn’t answer him for a moment, and Arda fears that he might have lost his hearing, but he eventually hears a breath.

“I miss you too.”

“I miss you more.”

A stupid smile etched on his lips—an idiotic, hopeful smile.

“Whatever.” He can basically see you roll your eyes. “I’m still not coming. I’m not coming to any of your games, you hear me?”

Until you make it official. He can basically hear you say.

He’s had this conversation a million times, and for some reason, it’s not enough push for him to commit to a relationship. He feels like if it were anyone else, he would not have much of an issue in putting a label on your relationship.

But it’s you.

And he has spent so long wanting you. What if you become his, and then you leave? You break up with him, leave him shattered? There is no breakup if there is no relationship in the first place—the senseless voice in his head keeps on whispering—there is no being left alone if he never decided to stay.

“Tell me if you change your mind.”

You huff to the phone again. “See you, Arda.”

He holds back an I love you, and laughs softly.

“I’ll see you around.”

[nayedoll]

About you (Part 2 of Baby Came Home)

joost klein x fem!reader

rpf below, please don’t read if ur uncomfortable!!!

this is part 2 to baby came home // i highly recommend reading part 1 for context on this fic!!

cw: 18+, nsfw, smut (f!receiving oral, protected piv), angst, some jealousy ig, reader is kind of a bitch lol

word count: 5k

a/n: some songs that fit the vibe: about you - the 1975 / right - mac miller / thinkin bout you - frank ocean / needy - ariana grande

───────────────────────

You sigh anxiously, tossing your phone onto the big pillows of your bed as you lie down on your soft comforter; it helps soothe your nerves a bit, being in your old bed again, surrounded by your stuffed animals and the girlish decoration of your room that has not changed in the slightest — except maybe it’s a little cleaner now, thanks to your mom.

You really shouldn’t be this stressed about today.

If anything, it should feel nice that your old friends were kind enough to invite you out to dinner, a reunion as they had called it to celebrate the fact that you finally stepped foot in the Netherlands after four years. But whatever emotion you should be feeling right now is subsided by the anxiety of meeting Joost again.

After he left New York, you had been texting and calling each other, neither as friends nor as something more, just enjoying the comfort you brought to one another. And for a while, it really seemed like this was going somewhere, like things could work out again if you tried. But of course, everything had to be ruined; all it took was one question— “Why did you leave?”— before a small argument erupted, one that was enough for you to distance yourself from him again.

Joost was trying to find a reason to why you left, why you didn’t want to come back and be with him and frankly, you didn’t even know what to tell him. You said you needed some time, a few days to think which turned into weeks and months of barely any communication— and now here you were, in the four walls of your old bedroom, getting ready to face him again.

The whole situation sort of reminds you of your first date with Joost; same room, same bed, trying to calm yourself down and pick out an outfit but nothing looks good enough. Your dad still has the TV on too loud downstairs and your mom still comes in your room without knocking. The thought eases you down a bit, makes you laugh as you finally make the decision to leave, already running late.

—

The restaurant is small but pretty, soft lighting falling on the adorned walls as the sound of jazz music and people talking fills the air, helps you relax a little. It’s the same one you used to drag Joost to all the time, the one he would always complain about but secretly loved despite not being the “romantic type” in his own words. You wonder if he picked it out, if he even played a part in the planning of this; the thought is unlikely but still brings a smile to your face.

You walk further into the dining room, overtaken by the loving atmosphere of people laughing, talking, genuinely enjoying themselves as you look around for your friends. You eventually spot them at a table towards the back of the room, all the people you cherish so deeply; Alanis, Apson, Tantu, Lyon and of course, Joost.

With a sweet smile on your lips, you approach them slowly yet nervously. Alanis is the first one to notice you as she rises up from her seat, pulling you into a warm, tight embrace.

“Missed you guys!” You exclaim, hugging everyone one by one, slowly, to put off coming face to face with Joost as long as possible. Inevitably you reach him and god does he look good; the same blonde fluffy hair, same baby blue eyes, an outfit that fits him infuriatingly well, of course coupled with his usual smug expression.

The tension in the room immediately shifts as your friends share knowing glances between them— you get the idea that they have all been informed about your little… reunion with Joost in New York, the memory of him on top of you flashing through your mind and making you swallow deeply.

He beams at you, the knot in your stomach loosening as he hugs you, a small confirmation that things are still okay between you.

“Hey,” You hug him back, maybe for a little longer, a little tighter, something that he doesn’t seem to mind as his big hand caresses your spine. He smells like cologne, it’s the one he was wearing that night in New York, that had your apartment smelling like him for the days afterward.

He pulls back, small smile on his lips, “It’s nice seeing you again,” It makes you smile too as you stare into each other’s eyes wordlessly.

“Alright lovebirds, maybe it’s time to sit down?” Apson says, making you and Joost chuckle awkwardly, reminding you of why you’re here in the first place.

—

After some more catching up with everyone and a few glasses of wine, you can confidently say you’re relaxed and having fun— once again proven to have been overthinking. You’re sitting across from Joost, unintentionally noticing every tiny detail about him, the little smiles, the dimples, all of his mannerisms that you adore so much.

He’s oblivious to it but you’re not the only woman who keeps eyeing him tonight. In fact, the girl next to you has been practically burning holes in his face by staring so hard— and needless to say, it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.She’s pretty, her long blonde hair styled in loose curls and her maxi black dress so simple yet so perfect on her. It makes you sick, even though it shouldn’t be and you know it— but you can’t help the growing jealousy within you the more you stare, her eyes hungry for him and every one of her moves deliberate to make him acknowledge her but he never does.

“I’m going for a smoke,” Joost says as he stands up from his chair, hands digging into his jacket’s pockets to find his pack of cigs.

The blonde girl looks up at him with a mischievous smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement, once again getting on your nerves— to be fair, you shouldn’t be mad at her, letting your envy consume you like a little girl but the alcohol makes it a little hard for you to control your emotions in the moment.

“Are you coming?” He asks, knowing you haven’t smoked yet tonight.

You sigh a little frustrated, not thinking about it much “Not in the mood.”

Joost pauses for a moment, the tilting of his head showing his confusion about your sudden change in attitude. Nevertheless, he gives you a small nod and leaves… you feel somewhat bad now, maybe you should go out there and keep him company.

But before you can even get up, that same blonde girl is already making her way to the exit door, her floral scent pervading the air along the way.

You take a deep breath; okay now you definitely feel like smoking. All the possible scenarios run through your mind at once— what if Joost gets her number? Or worse, takes her back home with him? You don’t think about it much longer and walk towards the door and out the restaurant.

The street is almost empty by now, cold air blanketing your body. Joost is just a few meters away, back rested against the brick wall as he lights his cigarette and— as expected— the girl is standing in front of him, making conversation; you can’t hear what she says but it makes Joost smile, giving you enough of a reason to feel even more jealous, a horrible feeling in your throat.

He doesn’t notice you, says some joke that causes her to giggle; you contemplate going back inside, whether this is embarrassing for you— after all it’s none of your business, you’re not his girlfriend anymore. But the pure idea of Joost taking another girl home, kissing her, fucking her the way he did you makes you want to puke, it fills you with rage.

You walk up to them, the sound of your sharp heels on the ground catching his attention. The girl turns around, obviously bothered by your presence and you notice the unlit cigarette on her hand; classic way to approach someone, you think.

You glance at her, bitter smile on your lips. “Can I have one?” You ask Joost, standing closer to him.

“Thought you didn’t wanna smoke right now,” He says but still hands you the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. You pull one out, coaxing him to light it for you as the girl watches.

Now that you came here, you don’t know what to say exactly, the awkward silence making you nervous. Jealousy has always been a bad trait of yours, though really you’re all bark and no bite, never actually acting upon it; if anything Joost always found it cute, teasing you about it endlessly.

“Is zij je vriendin?” (Is she your girlfriend?) The girl asks, pointing at you.

Joost giggles at that, causing you both to glare at him as his laughing comes to a halt. ”Was vroeger,” (Used to be) He replies, taking a short puff from his cigarette, “Het is ingewikkeld.” (It’s complicated)

You slightly furrow your brows, trying to translate the words in your head but to no avail. The girl nods, less confident in her attitude now as she hands the cigarette back to Joost and slowly leaves, mumbling something which you assume to be goodnight.

You’re left alone with Joost, remaining silent as all kinds of thoughts race in your mind. Once again, it’s you and him smoking against a wall, tension filling the air, almost like you’re having deja vu.

“What a nice girl,” Joost says, his tone an exaggerated delight. You nod quietly and take a deep inhale of smoke, nicotine filling your lungs— he’s obviously teasing you and it annoys you how well he knows you, always making it impossible for you to hide from him.

With a simpering smile, he looks down at you and asks, “And really pretty, don’t you think?”

“Yeah she’s cute,” You say as nonchalantly as you can, peering at Joost when he lets out a low laugh as if he’s mocking you. “What?”

He looks back at you with a cocky smile, “You’re jealous,” He says with such confidence it drives you insane, makes you want to punch his pretty face (and kiss it better afterwards).

You scoff, “No I’m not,” You avoid his eyes, the uncertainty evident in your words.

“Admit it,” He smirks, you feel his eyes scanning your face that has a pinkish blush on it from his teasing, though you’d like to think it’s because of the cold.

You glance at him as he raises an eyebrow, waiting for your response. “You’re so full of yourself,” You chuckle, blowing the smoke away from his face.

Joost giggles, more so amused than anything else by the way you’re acting, so timid for nothing.

“And you’re jealous.”

You roll your eyes, suppressing a smile. “Fine,” You sigh as he puckers his lips a little, a sly smile hidden behind them. “I admit I was a little… bothered by a girl flirting with my ex. So sue me for that.”

Joost crosses his arms, grinning widely. “Really?” He emphasizes, taunting you.

“Yes, really.” You repeat his words back to him with the same assertive tone.

“Is bothered the new way to say jealous?” He feigns confusion, his finger scratching the top of his head.

Unbelievable, you think. You groan, stubbing out your cigarette with your shoe,

“You know what, I’m going back inside.”You’re not actually mad with him but more so matching his playfulness and teasing him back.

When you turn around to leave Joost gently tugs at your arm, pulling you back to him as he throws his finished cigarette away.

“Hey, hey, hey, come on, I’m sorry.” He giggles, using this as an opportunity to grab you by the waist, bring you closer as you pout your lips at him. “I get it,” He murmurs.

“You get it?” You raise an eyebrow, unsure of what exactly it is that he’s getting. His touch on your skin is strong, it makes you lightheaded as you look up at him under the yellowish street lights.

He nods, “I’d be jealous too if some guy was flirting with you,” You smile a little, fighting to keep your composure. Joost was never the toxic and overprotective type, but you loved it whenever he got a little jealous, expressing it in petty but cute ways be it kissing you more than usual or being clingy with you in front of other men.

“Yeah?” You ask him.

“Mhm.” His lips are close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing together. “Although I bet tons of guys have flirted with you since I left New York, am I right?” His voice is lower, raspy sending a warmth through your body even in the middle of the cold night.

“Maybe,” You bite your lip, slowly sliding your hands up the sides of his neck.

Some men had indeed approached you in those months, none of whom you bothered giving a chance to. It didn’t matter how attractive or successful or charming they were— they weren’t Joost and that was enough for you to turn them down.

Joost presses a few kisses on your jaw and the crook of your neck, his lips wet and soft on your skin. “I bet you flirt a lot too,” He mumbles against your neck as tingles erupt all over your body. “Talking to anyone but me,” His words are bittersweet, petty as he nips at your skin and makes you moan quietly. You didn’t text me either, is what you want to say but bickering right now seems a little pointless.

“Let me make it up to you,” You whisper, holding his face in your hands as you lean in to kiss him. Your lips press together hungrily, savoring the taste of wine and cigarettes on his tongue. His hands grab your ass tightly, squeezing it as you let out little sounds into the kiss, sounds that make Joost crumble into pieces all the more. Your sweet scent stimulates his senses, makes him go crazy as he feels himself grow harder.

“Oh damn,” You cut the kiss short, turning around to see Apson and Teun, a shared amusement on their faces— definitely not awkward.

“Okay! I guess we’re not smoking after all,” Apson says, urging Teun to go back inside as you hear Joost laugh behind you.

“No, it’s okay. We were gonna head back inside anyways,” You step back from Joost, fixing your skirt as you wave them over to where you are.

“We were?” Joost asks, you slap him on his arm smiling. “Okay,” He nods, following you inside as he mumbles something to the guys which makes all of them laugh; you assume he scolded them for interrupting your heated moment, seeing as he playfully hits Tantu on his shoulder.

“Wait,” You stop him before he pushes the glass door open, gently grabbing his chin in your hand. Joost looks down at you like a confused puppy, it almost makes you laugh as you brush your lip gloss off his lips. “There.” You smile as he thanks you.

“My place tonight?” He whispers softly, brushing his thumb against your cheek and you nod.

Alanis and Lyon are still in their seats, talking when you come in. They look up at you, smile knowingly at each other because it is so obvious what you and Joost were doing out there, your faces flustered and Joost’s hair unruly.

Joost, as always, breaks the awkward silence, says something about how his steak is shaped like Belgium… which works well enough to switch the subject. Peeking at your right, you notice the blonde girl from before— she seems fairly disappointed, not looking at Joost anymore and it gives you a weird sense of pride, knowing he picked you again, that you’re the one going home with him tonight; hopefully you’ll talk to him later, tell him the thing you’ve been meaning to say all night.

—

Your friends ended up going for drinks after the dinner which you and Joost politely declined, opting to walk the twenty minutes back to his house.

There’s a light breeze in the air, giving you enough of an excuse to get closer to Joost and hug him from behind, your arms around his stomach— maybe it’s too romantic of a gesture but he clearly doesn’t mind as he keeps on fumbling with his set of keys, a small smile on his lips.

Finally unlocking the door, he ushers you inside his house; it’s different to his old one, bigger and surprisingly cleaner than you’d expected, though still cluttered with random objects here and there.

Joost notices the way you look around the dark room, the soft moonlight coming in through the big windows. “Like it?” You feel his hand on your ass, his body pressing you gently against the door.

Placing both arms around his neck you smile, his chest warm against yours. “Yeah. You have good taste in furniture,”

“You should see my taste in women,” His words make you beam against his lips, teeth knocking together as he leans in to kiss you. You deepen the kiss, helping Joost with taking off his jacket that is quickly thrown somewhere on the floor behind him. He does the same for you, kissing along your jaw to your exposed shoulder as your leather jacket falls down to your feet.

Your hand travels down to his crotch, palming his erection which earns you a small sigh from him. Joost pulls you closer by the waist, strong hands caressing your curves as you continue teasing him, your fingers playing with the metal buckle of his belt. In the meantime, you start placing wet kisses on his jaw and neck, your little bites in between making him groan quietly.

“Those are a lot of hickeys,” Joost says.

“Just making sure no other girls approach you,” You mumble; it’s half serious half teasing, you know it turns him on when you’re possessive over him.

Joost smirks, fighting the urge to call you out for your jealousy once again, though he makes a mental note to tease you about it later. He’s too flustered to speak right now anyways, with the feeling of you everywhere; your lips on his neck, one thigh between his legs all while you’re trying to unbutton his shirt (and failing miserably at doing so)— you’re hungry for him and he likes that, likes knowing you’re as weak as he is on the inside, as your hot breath trembles on his neck.

“Let me help you schat,” He pulls back from you, focusing on the buttons on his striped button-up which he takes off at a tauntingly slow speed, biting back a smile when he hears you whine at the loss of contact. Your hands roam around his stomach and chest under his loosened shirt as he fully removes it, then blindly tosses it somewhere behind him.

He clicks his tongue, “So impatient,” He kisses you again, finger on your chin to bring your face closer.

“Yeah because I need you,” You breathe out, feeling his sly smile grow on your lips; it comes out more desperate, more whiny than you intended it to sound, your neediness making Joost’s cock twitch in his pants.

“Fuck,” He murmurs, biting his lip. “Come on, this way,” Taking your hand in his, he leads you to his bedroom— small and messy, full of his scent.

He sits you down on his poorly made bed, the back of your thighs meeting the cool wrinkled sheets. You watch as Joost begins to undo his belt, rubbing your legs together to loosen some of the tension in between them but it does nothing for you— the image of his big tattooed hands on the small metal letters of his belt, Albino, only adds to your arousal. You raise your foot slightly, nudging his calf as he glances at you, your doe eyes looking up at him, practically begging him to hurry up.

He chuckles, pushing his pants down. “So damn needy,”.

He kneels down on the carpet in front of you, the tender touch of his hands down your legs and his tight grip on your calves giving you goosebumps. He takes your high heels off, carefully putting them aside before his lips start littering your legs with kisses.

“Such a gentleman,” You coo, your breathing deepening with each peck on your skin as Joost gently pushes your legs open to gain more access to your inner thighs. There, he sucks on the sensitive skin, coaxing you to gasp; he hasn’t even fully touched you, yet you’re already melting under his touch, aching with need.

Joost stops at the hem of your skirt, his light blue eyes looking up at you from between your thighs, an image you wish you could capture. “Baby can I eat you out, please?”

A small smile forms on your lips. Who’s needy now?

You nod down at him, “Since you asked so politely.” Joost motions for you to stand up, sly grin on his face; he strips your skirt off, his palms aimlessly stroking your legs, giving you a small squeeze on your ass. He gently pulls your panties off, the lace fabric slightly sticking to your skin due to the wetness in your folds.

“Zo mooi,” His compliment sends a warm smile to your face as you stroke his hair. He plants another quick kiss on your clit, the tiny tingling sensation causing you to hiss, then guides you backwards against the bed until your back hits the comforter. Involuntarily, you bend your knees for him as he climbs into the bed, slightly hovering over you.

He leans down and kisses you hungrily, his thick fingers rubbing small circles on your clit as you moan loudly into the kiss from the sudden wave of pleasure. You feel him smile against your lips, a cocky smile at that.

He slowly pushes one finger into your slick folds, “You like that?” He purrs against your jaw. You nod repeatedly, muttering a soft yeah in between shallow breaths. Joost goes lower as he lies on his stomach, burying himself in your thighs, deep purple marks all over them from his previous kisses. Withdrawing his finger from you, he licks up your entrance, making you suck in a sharp breath as your thighs close together ever so slightly, pressing on his head.

He starts soft, his tongue flat near your clit making your skin prickle before he moves down, teasing your hole with just the tip of his tongue.

Impatiently, you push your hips forward, desperate to feel more of him; he nuzzles your core as you both let out a small laugh. “You want me to suffocate down here?”

You giggle, “I will suffocate you if you don’t hurry up,”

He grins, delving his tongue into your slit. You moan as you feel it swirling inside you slowly, making you clench. “Faster,” You breathe out, entangling your fingers in his hair, softly pulling at his golden hair strands. Joost picks up the pace as his tongue explores you, nudges your clit a few times to hear more of your breathy moans. He holds your legs open that are trembling as you chase your climax, your body burning with overstimulation. His thumb is stroking your clit in fast motions, causing you to whimper continuously and grasp at his hair to which he hums sending a vibration through your core.

With that, you come undone on his mouth as you let out a loud mixture of cries and curses. Joost lets you ride out your high, sucking at your lips and your clit. His chin is glistening with your release as he pulls back from you, plants a few gentle kisses on your thighs, letting you catch your breath.

You gaze at him as he sits up a little and grabs a condom from the nightstand. He’s a little sweaty, his face flushed and his hair looks messy as he runs his hand through it, He’s perfect.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He says as he takes off his boxers— your eyes flicker to his hard cock, the tip swollen and leaky with precum. You feel a little guilty, want to take care of him like he did you.

You giggle, narrowing your eyes at him, “That’s how that girl at the restaurant was looking at you, just so you know I’m not crazy or anything,”

“You’re still on that? Baby, I’m here with you now, you don’t have to worry about it,” He softly pulls your hand, making you sit up next to him, kissing you on your cheek.

Smiling softly, you take the condom from his hand, opening the wrapper with your teeth. “Joost?” You ask him as you carefully slip the condom on, feeling his veins along the way. He hums, coaxing you to keep talking. “Can I ride you?” You’re a little shy when asking him that and you don’t know why; today in general, you’re kind of nervous around him and he finds it funny, cute nonetheless.

“Hell yeah,” You look at him again, his warm smile comforting you.

He crawls past you, sitting against the plush headboard as you move to sit atop him. Your face is also flushed, beaming with the afterglow of your orgasm and Joost can’t help but kiss you again, slowly, whilst fully removing your top.

You take his shaft in your hands, adjusting yourself above him so that his tip is right at your entrance before you push yourself down onto him; the residue of your arousal makes it easier for him to bottom out, a drawn out groan leaving his mouth as he does so, feeling you tighten around the veins on his cock. You lift yourself up slightly until only the tip is inside of you before quickly sinking down onto his cock again— you continue this pattern, noticing the breathy moans that Joost lets out, his mouth opened ever so slightly and his brows furrowed.

You pick up your pace, placing both hands on his shoulders for support as Joost squeezes your tits in his warm hands. Locking eyes with him, you almost want to cry with how beautiful he looks, how good his cock feels inside of you, how perfect you are for one another.

“What’s on your mind liefde?” He breathes out, a grunt slipping from his lips.

You bite back a moan, “Joost I want you,”

“You have me,” He chuckles.

“No,” You mutter, “I want you all the time. I love you,” You speak fast, desperate to convey your feelings to him. “I love you so much,” You repeat, burying your face in his neck.

“Shit,” He groans as he starts thrusting into you, noticing that you’re growing tired. “I love you too,” His hands are tightly wrapped around your body, holding you in place as he slams his shaft against you— it’s fast and sloppy, makes you dizzy with pleasure, unable to suppress your loud moans. Your eyes tear up a little at the confirmation that he also loves you— it’s not the first time you hear it from him but you’ve missed it, you’ve missed him and this stupid city that you grew to love because of him.

The pressure is too much, easily leading you to your second orgasm tonight as you dissolve into pleasure, moaning Joost’s name repeatedly. He’s now the only one doing the work, pushing himself into you relentlessly as you kiss him softly on his face because that’s the most you can do right now with how much your legs are burning.

A little later, Joost comes inside of the condom, the sound of his deep moans (and a few whimpers he tries to suppress but fails) filling the room.

You collapse next to him and onto the bed, breathing deeply, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. Joost gets up wordlessly to put his boxers on again, coming back with a shirt on his hand and your panties. He sits down in front of you, gently pulling your tired body up so that he can redress you. “You’re gonna get cold,” He mumbles, his thoughtfulness bringing a sweet smile to your lips.

“Thank you,” You coo, enjoying the feeling of his shirt on your body; it’s warm and big, carries his scent that you love so much. “I like this shirt,”

“Yeah? Keep it. Y’know to have something remind you of me when you go back to New York,” He chuckles a little as he says that. You take a deep breath, looking at him with eager eyes. He senses a hesitation in you, tilting his head in confusion, “What is it?”

“I’m not going back,” You say, your voice close to a whisper. “To New York, I mean.”

Joost grins, “Don’t play with me dude,” He says, shaking his head.

“I’m not,” You chuckle, gently placing your hand on top of his. “I got offered a job here and I’ve been thinking about it,”

Joost’s eyes light up, his dimples prominent. “Liefde that’s great news,”

He hugs you, presses some kisses on your hair as you stroke his back— he never wants this feeling to go away. “Date tomorrow?” He asks in your ear.

“Mhm.” You smile and kiss him softly, staying in the comfort of his arms. You get a good feeling, one that you haven’t had in years; you will go on that date and things will work out between you and you will never let him go again.

“I love you.”

───────────────────────

thank you sm for reading!!! i hope this met everyone’s expectations lol 😭🥹

[algae-tm]

KILL BILL P.6

Charles Leclerc x famous singer! reader

Warnings : morally grey reader, toxic exes

Author’s note : There are so many x readers where the reader doesn’t do anything wrong, which I love don’t get me wrong but I wanted to write one where she’s a bit flawed. And obvs I cannot hate her cause she’s just in love and this is lossely (very loosely) based around real life events y’all so I get it! And also I love Alex 😭 I was gunna make her the villain but I literally can’t! So this is going a bit of a diff direction, in terms of ending. - Algae 🌱

•••••

INSTAGRAM

y/bff/n

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 678,798 others

y/bff/n : talking about boys over brunch? (tagged : yourusername)

yourusername : feels like I’m 18 again

— user3 : holdup when did y/n and Charles get together?

— user4 : she was 18 and he was 19/20…

— user5 : lmao that’s why he’s got her wrapped round his finger… poor baby hasn’t known any better

— user7 : not you guys acting like Charles groomed her be so serious! they have a 1 and a half year age gap touch grass.

— user9 : you can’t argue with people like this, they’re so chronically online!

— user4 : so how did they meet?

— user19 : google is free!

— user6 : her and Lewis did a fashion campaign when she was 16, and he sort of took her under his wing, cause I think her parents were a bit... I believe she then met Charles when she came to watch a race and watched the f2 race as well.

user1 : y/n telling you about how she’s a slut?

— y/bff/n : only ever having been with 1 man equals slut?

— user1 : going after a man with a girlfriend surely does.

lewishamilton : we love to see it

— y/bff/n : we sure do 😍

— yourusername : not you guys acting like I was dead in a ditch…

— y/bff/n : you were in man purgatory, it’s basically the same thing.

user11 : does Oscar know y/bff/n?

— user12 : No why?

— user11 : cause bros lurking in the comments

— user1 : lmao you think the skank’s gunna go for him next? (user1 has been blocked)

— user13 : @oscarpiatri trust you do not know how to handle @yourusename

— user11: poor baby she’d eat him alive

user13 : oh to be a fly on the wall for the Charles convo

user14 : trust it was hours long

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 10,987,843 others

yourusername : boys are awful and grotesque. i had to decompress on an island to get the crazy out of my brain. it’s a good thing mics are portable. Thank you Ephraim! My concierge for finding me a keyboard so I could get you guys this song that entered my brain almost two weeks ago and refused to leave. It’s a good teaser for my album, which is out in TWO days. so without further ado hope y’all like The Weekend!! if you don’t like it I’ll cry.

lewishamilton : oh this gives context to the unhinged messages you sent me at 1 am

— yourusername : I’m an artist, it’s my creative process

— lewishamilton : well this is way more constructive than turning up in Monaco

— user5 : oop- not you clocked by Lewis Hamilton of all people

— user7 : well I’m happy that Lewis doesn’t condone the behaviour of a slag

— user8 : lmao even her friends are getting tired of her

— user9 I think y’all are forgetting that they were together for six years, it was y/n’s first relationship, he dumps her out of the blue gets a new girlfriend within months. I for one would also go a bit crazy and need to be secluded on an island! Too bad I don’t have island money lmao

lewishamilton : I’ve been listening non stop! You truly out did yourself kid 🖤

y/bff/n : thank god you are not in Canada rn

y/bff/n : i was having a heart attack!

y/bff/n : you need to tell me before you travel across the world! We cannot have a repeat of last time.

— yourusername : have I really traumatised you that badly?

——y/bff/name : yes

—— lewishamilton : yes

—— yoursiblinguser : yes

—— friend1 : yes

—— danielricciardo: yes

—— oscarpiastri : yes

——yourusername : now hang on @oscarpiatri I don’t even know you!

— — oscarpiastri : wanna change that?

——- user11 : not you going after your dad’s ex

——-user14 : about to be a messy family reunion

——-danielricciardo : check that Aussie charm 🇦🇺

user7 : okay someone please talk about the lyrics????? Right off the bat it’s unhinged?? “WHY YOU WANT ME WHEN YOUVE GOT A GIRL??!” No cause that is so true like @charles_leclerc why are you still contacting her when Alex is right there?? (Liked by yourusername)

— user8 : ‘knowing it’s selfish, knowing I’m desperate’ oh she’s DOWN BAD!!

— user7 : you get it… cause DESPERATE, you’re describing yourself as desperate?? Bad bitch down in aisle 4 I fear!

user9 : lmao no cause you’ve outdone yourself! What do you mean ‘my man is my man, is your man. Heard that’s her man too’

— user21 : no cause she really is not a serious individual 😂

— user10 : the song is a bop don’t get me wrong but am I the only one who’s thinking about Alex in all this??

— user11 : poor girl hasn’t done anything apart from like a serial monogamist…

— user12 : I mean after this release Alex just needs to count her losses and leave him (liked by alexandrasaintmleux)

— user13 : oop- not her liking… clock it! But at this point I think this is just a messy situation where everyone’s gunna lose. Especially Alex poor girl never stood a chance

user22 : I just keep him satisfied through the weekend!

— user23 : you’re like 9 to 5 I’m the weekend!!!!

— user24 : make him lose his mind every weekend!!!!

sza : please god never let me be this down bad over a man 🙏🏾

— yourusername : now I know you’re not the one talking 🤨

badgalriri : 🖤

donatella_versace : DONATELLA VERSACE 💜

user17 : release the album NOW!

user18 : I’m sorry but weren’t we just mad at her? Releasing a song doesn’t make you automatically in the right? In fact even the song paints her as a bit of a villain :( I can’t imagine poor Alex listening to it.

— user19 : right? She’s practically begging him to cheat with her

— user15 : i really don’t know how to feel about the whole situation but it’s definitely not a good feeling…

••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee @callsignwidow

[dreamings-free]

Louis about LT3

a summary UPDATED

Sep 2022 first time Louis mentions a 3rd album. Louis is quoted in Euphoria Magazine saying: “Ideally, I’d like to try and write the next record before I go on tour next year. I want to do something similar to what I’ve done this past year.” (but from what we know now it seems it didn't play out that way..)

Sep 14th 2022 Louis leaves a comment on Faith In The Future co-writer Nico Rebscher's instagram post about Out Of My System saying "Can’t wait to do more on the next album!"

Jan 2023 Louis is on holiday in Cabo, Mexico and is spotted travelling with his guitar - maybe in case inspiration strikes!?

Feb 22nd 2023 Louis is seen "a tiny village with a recording studio in it". A few days later both Louis and Matt Vines likes an instagram post by Faith In The Future co-writer David Sneddon captioned "Spent the week at @ angelicstudiouk with friends and heroes." Another FITF co-writer Theo Hutchcraft is seen in one of the photos.

May 11th 2023 Louis tweets: "Also probably shouldn’t mention this so early in the process but I’m feeling really confident creatively, just finished a week of writing and it was unbelievable. Exciting!"

May 13th 2023 When asked about the next album at the LA screening of All Of Those Voices, he answered: “I recently just started, yeah. The majority have been my own, but some of the lyrics is less direct, so it’s maybe not quite as specifically about me but,I felt really fulfilled, the last couple of writing sessions I’ve done have been really, really good.”

Nov 23rd 2023 Louis gets asked about album 3 at the Rolling Stone UK Awards and is quoted saying: “It’s funny, I wrote maybe 4 or 5 tunes in one of the breaks of the tour legs, and actually, I just wanna spend a bit of time. I’m really excited for those songs, but I don’t know when the next records gonna come and the thing about me is when I start writing, I’m just desperate to release things as soon as a possible, so I wanna take a bit of time on this record. So when that might be, who knows.” He also talks a bit about potential collaborators and mentions DMA'S.

Jan 20th 2024 Louis follows producer James Ellis Ford who has worked with Arctic Monkey, Gorillaz and many, many more.

Jan 24th 2024 When asked in a twitter Q&A if he has "a concept in mind already for the next album?" his answer was: "Started drawing the outline in my head". He also told fans asking at the meet 'n' greet in Jakarta that it would be "soon, in my context of the word" 😜

Mar 30th 2024 At the Tecate Pa'l Norte press conference he said: “At the moment, um— to be honest, I haven’t really— the question was what I listen to which is a slightly different thing but; I haven’t really given the next record real thought yet. Obviously it’s been on my mind. But in terms of conceptually, or even finding references, I’m not really at that point yet because I’ve done a lot of touring— just kind of getting that out of the way before I really start thinking about that proper.”

April 4th 2024 He told Chilean radio station Bio Bio: “I have written a couple of songs, but when I was writing them I wasn’t thinking about what they would be for a new album, they were just written to give me something to write and not put pressure on those songs. But I think I will start the work on a new album at the end of this year, maybe.” futher elaborating to Radio Disney Chile: “The good thing about this record is I’m gonna have plenty of time to experiment and with that it gives you plenty of room to just kind of find where the edges of the record live. So yeah I’m looking forward to getting into the process, but like I said I’ve been loving touring at the moment so just been kind of sticking to that.”.

He also told Paraguayan radio station HEI Now: “Of course there’ll be a new album. When? I’m not overly sure. I think I’ll probably start writing at the end of the year. I just wanna let as much life in first and then I can really start emoting and writing.”

June 2024 In the FITF tour LatAm recap video posted to Louis’ instagram 25/6 he says: “At some point I gotta think about the next record, but.. I’m a bit scared of that, truthfully right now, feel like I’ve been enjoying the success of Faith in The Future for.. quite a while. And yes, it’s been the pressure of the shows but I delivered what I think was a good record and a record that was successful. So now going into the next cycle it’s a little bit.. a little bit tentative going into it. I know that’ll change once I get off the road and really start thinking about the essence of the record and the concept of the record and stuff like that. But right now.. yeah, I’m just thinking about the festivals, I’m excited for those.” (he also talks - in past tense about playing in Mexico City and about the upcoming Away From Home Festival, so we can assume this interview was done somewhere in early June)

August 4th 2024 Responding to a fan sign at Santander Music Festival that said "How close R we to the next album 1-5?" showing three - possibly four? - fingers! meaning the album is 3/5 (or 4/5?) done!

tbc...

[huggybearhughes43]

all three boys cause i’m a dirty slut for the hughes brothers 🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️

I know if I go, I’ll die happy tonight

Hughes brothers x Fem! Reader

This is pt.3 of my Hughes brothers series here’s pt.2 and pt.1 for context!

Warnings- smut, raw dawgin, anal, oral (f and m! Receiving), cream pie, cum swallowing, foursome, lowkey a lot of cutsie fluff

Summary- Jack and Luke convince reader to go to the lake house with them, even though she knows the second she’s face to face with the oldest brother that she’d be embarrassed.

Word count- 3.6k

My head leaned against the window of jacks back seat with my legs propped up on Luke’s. Somehow, the pair had convinced me to stay at the lake house for a week. In which means, I am to stay with all three brothers as well as their parents. Adding to that, god knows Jack invited Trevor as well as Cole. The feeling of Luke rubbing his hand back and forth on my ankle and the sound of Jack humming along to a song on the radio puts my right to sleep.

My eyes flutter open at a familiar feeling of a turn into the driveway of the lake house. I sit up as Jack parks the car. I look at Luke, a frown playing on my face. “Just kill me now and save me the embarrassment of seeing Quinn.” Luke smiles and nudges me, “it won’t be that bad, he’s a gentleman.” Luke holds his pinky out, “I pinky promise.” I sigh and unlock my pinky with his before stepping out of the car. Luke grabs my bag and his before making his way inside. I follow quickly after him.

The second I walk through the front door I run smack into someone’s chest. I apologize, stepping back and looking up at the person, my hands on their chest to stable myself. My face flushes and I mentally curse myself. “Hey, Quinn.” I realize my hands were still on his chest and I quickly take them back. “Hey, y/n.” He smirks, “you seem tense.” I roll my eyes. “If you think you’re funny, you’re not.” Both of our attentions are pulled away from each other when Jim and Ellen walk in.

I smile and walk up to them, pulling them into a hug. My family knew theirs since we were kids, practically growing up with the Hughes and counting their parents as a second pair to me. Jim and Ellen and Hug me back tightly and speak that they were going to their room to but their things away. I nod, smiling at them as they walk away. I was truly happy to see them. The happiness moment, soiled by Quinn. His arms were crossed on his chest as he smirked meanly, “do they know what you’ve been sneaking around to do with their sons, because I think they should kn-“ “Quinn, leave her alone.” Luke cuts him off as he enters the room. The older brother shrugs, “I’m just saying.”

“Do they know you said you wanted a turn?” I shrug and walk past the two brothers. “Just saying.” I walk up the flight of stairs and into the room I’d be staying in. Ever since I was a kid, I shared the room with Luke while at their home, that seemed to have transferred over to the lake house. I sit on the bed, rubbing my eyes. My head perks up when I hear the door crack open. Luke walks in, scratching his neck, “I’m sorry about him.” I shake my head, “don’t be” I flip backwards to lay down on the bed. “But what happened to him being a gentleman?” Luke laughs as my words, I feel the bed dip down as Luke crawls up the bed to lay down next to me. “I thought he would be.” He explains as he traces shapes on the part of my chest exposed from the tank top I was wearing.

I turn my head to look at Luke, smiling when our eyes meet. “It’s okay” I mumble before pressing my lips to his. After a moment of enjoying his soft kisses, he pulls away. He props head up on the palm of his hand, his other hand using its thumb to rub my cheek. “Jack and Quinn were asking me if I wanted to take the beat out on a test drive tonight, wanna come?” “That sounds like hell.” Luke smiles, “pretty please?” I sigh at Luke’s pleading tone. “Fine.” I sit up in the bed. He smiles and hugs me from behind, kissing pecks on my neck. “Thank you.”

The sun peaked through the windows in Luke and I’s shared room as I unpack my clothes. I was alone, looking through my swimsuits as Jack walks into the room. “Luke and Quinn are getting the boat ready, it’ll get cold tonight on the water you should probably change.” I nod to his words, telling him I heard but he stops in the doorway. “Can’t wait to see you in those.” He laughs jokingly as he eyes my bathing suits. “Jack?” I bat my eyelashes at him convincingly. He swallows, “yeah?” My expression drops, “get out.” Jack huffs dramatically and leaves the room, closing the door behind him for privacy.

I put on some sweatpants and a white t shirt before making my way down the stairs and out into the backyard. “Stay safe, sweetie! Don’t let those boys be bad influences.” Ellen calls from the kitchen, I turn to reassure her that I’d be safe. I turn back around and exit through the back door, walking through their back yard to the dock. Luke holds out his hand as I approach the boat. I thank him and grab his hand as I step into the boat. Quinn was at the wheel while Jack was sitting at the back of the boat. Luke leads me to sit down with him at the front, pulling me flush against his chest as Quinn starts the boat. I adjust myself to lay down, using Luke as a pillow.

I bask in the remainder of the days sun while Quinn finds a place to anchor. My eyes only open to realize the sun has set completely when Quinn stops the boat. I look back as Jack tosses the anchor over the edge of the back of the boat. Luke stands up moments after I sit up. I look up at him questionable as he tugs his shirt off. “What are you-“ I’m cut off my Luke doing a front flip into the water off the side of the boat. The splash from impact soaks me. I gasp and stand up. Luke re-emerges from the water laughing, knowing exactly what he just did.

Jack follows soon after, doing the exact same thing as Luke. “Come on, y/n! The waters not that cold!” Luke shouts from the water. I cross my arms and shake my head, muttering no. I gasp when I feel a hand loop around my waist. Quinn lifts me tightly, not letting me get out of his grasp, no matter how much I struggle. “Quinn, wait! Wait- stop!” He walks over the edge not budging as I try to wiggle out of his grasp. The two boys in the water cheer Quinn on. “Wait!” I shout, trying to hold onto Quinn’s shoulders but I’m too late as he tosses me into the lake. I gasp for air as I come back up. “You asshole!” I shout up to Quinn who was still the on the boat. He laughs and follows what the other two brothers did. He tugs off his shirt and jumps off the side into the water with us.

I wipe the water off of my face from the splash. When Quinn comes up for air I splash him. “You’re an asshole” I repeat and he laughs again. “You’re just being dramatic.” I notice the other two boys swimming towards the boat to get back on and I follow them. I climb up the ladder with Quinn presumably close behind. The second I step back onto the boat Jack whistles. Luke’s face was a bright shade of pink as he covers his mouth in attempt to hold back his laugh. I don’t put two and two together until Quinn walks past me and looks down at my chest, shaking his head with a smile on his face.

I quickly realize my stupid mistake, covering my chest with my arms. “All of you are assholes.” I huff, my decision of not wearing a bra under my big shirt due to comfortability was not on my side at the moment. Quinn tosses me his shirt and for a moment I remember why he was the favored brother. I mumble a “thank you” before I tug it over myself. I sit back down where I was before but this time without Luke. I wrap my arms around myself to shield myself from the bitter cold air. Quinn takes the anchor out of the water and steers the boat back to the dock.

As soon as the rope of the boat is tied to the dock, I jump off of the boat, making my way inside to the warmth. I rush up into the room I was staying in. I pull off Quinn’s shirt, tossing it on the bed with a plan to return it later. I take off my wet clothes, tossing them in a clothes basket before running into the connected bathroom. I take a brisk shower to rid of the lingering lake scent. I step out and wrap a towel around myself, exiting the bathroom and into the room to see Luke on the bed. I was just about to remove my towel to get dress when Jack barges into the room. My bones almost jump out of my skin at the fright.

“Jesus Christ, Jack, what is your problem?” I scoff at him and he just smiles then looks at Luke. “Mom and dad are asleep.” I look back and forth between the two of them in disbelief to what they were suggesting. Luke looks at me and smilies softly, “come here.” I roll my eyes and do as he says, crawling onto the bed and onto his lap, clutching the towel at my chest so it doesn’t fall. Luke places his hand over mine to move it, “it’s not like Jack hasn’t seen you before.” I sigh and allow him to remove the towel from me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Luke whispers before attacking my neck with kisses. I let out a sigh, tangling my hands in his hair. I feel the bed dip down as Jack moves towards us. Jacks hands find my waist, just above Luke’s that were on my hips. Jack presses his lips to mine hungrily. One hand moves from Luke’s hair to jacks, deepening the kiss. I was so lost in a trance that I didn’t hear the footsteps walking into the room. Only when I feel another dip in the bed is when I realize someone else has joined us. My brain was too foggy to realize who it was until he spoke up. “Starting without me?” He scoffs, “assholes.”

Quinn presses up against my back, resting his chin on my shoulder as he reaches around my waist. He presses a soft kiss to my shoulder before harshly pressing his thumb to my clit. He laughs mockingly at me when I moan so loud against jacks lips that he could hear. As if the brothers knew what each other were thinking by mere looks, Jack leans away and Quinn gets up. I whine at the lost contact, Luke quieting me by pressing his lips to mine. Luke scoots us down a bit so he could lay down, pulling me down with him. Luke reaches down between us to pulls his shorts down enough to line himself up as the other to brothers take their spots back, their clothes somewhere on the floor.

I ease all the way down on Luke’s hard cock before I feel Quinn’s hands on me again. Jack traces his thumb over my cheek before cupping my chin and pulling me away from Luke’s lips. Before I could complain Jack presses his dick against my lips. Without a second thought, I open my mouth for him. Jack grabs my hair harshly, moving my head in a rhythm to his liking. Luke presses soft, sweat kisses onto my shoulder. Quinn’s hands wander all over my body, it was as if he were trying to memorize every mole, every stretch mark.

“Think you can take one more, baby girl?” Quinn asks softly, easing his hands over my shoulder blades. I moan out against jacks dick earning a laugh to fall from the middle boys lips. “I think that was a yes.” He tells Quinn. Quinn scoffs and pushes at jacks chest, “you prick, let her speak.” Jacks sighs a reluctantly pulls his dick out of my mouth. I gasp for air before speaking, my hips still being moved my Luke back and forth onto his dick, “yes! Yes- Quinn please.” I whine before I was muffled my jacks dick once again.

“Good girl.” Quinn leans down to press a kiss onto my back. “Wouldn’t wanna do anything you’re not okay with.” Quinn spits on his fingers, leading them down to press against my ass. Tears form in my eyes as he eases his fingers into me slowly, my moans muffled by Jack. Quinn presses soft kisses along my back, trying to make me as comfortable as possible with the foreign feeling. “I’ve got you.” He whispers before pulling his fingers away and lining up his dick where they once were.

No matter how much he wanted to go fast, Quinn slowly entered me. Luke momentarily stopped his moments to not chance hurting me. The stretch hurt but the feeling of his soft rubbing on my back made it bearable. He bottomed out, reaching up to wipe a tear from my face. The second Luke started moving my hips again and Quinn’s slow thrusts, I moan out repeatedly against jacks dick that was still down my throat. The matched pace between the brother instantly throws me over the edge. The clenching of my cunt makes Luke throw his head back, the two of our orgasms happening together. He cums deep inside of me, not stopping his thrusts until I’m worked through my orgasm.

Luke pulls out of me, not wanting to hurt me with overstimulation but his brothers weren’t helping. Jack holds my head all the way down on his cock, my nose pressed against his pelvis as he shoots his load down my throat. I do my best to swallow all of it as he pulls out. Jack laughs softly and wipe the remainder that dripped down my chin with his finger before pressing it into my mouth. I suck his thumb clean before pulling away. The quickening thrusts from Quinn have me pressing my head into Luke’s shoulder, muffling my moans. A few more thrusts and Quinn’s cums into my ass.

He breathlessly pulls away, pressing one more kiss to my back before pulling away to put his clothes back on. Jack does the same while Luke whispers praises about how I did so good into my ear. “Clean her up for us, Luke?” Quinn teases, causing Jack to laugh before they both exit to room to presumably go to bed in their own rooms. Luke plays me onto the bed by myself before going into the bathroom for a rag. He comes back, pressing soft kisses all over my face before he reaches down and cleans up my fucked out folds. Luke pulls me comfortably into him when he finishes cleaning me up. I fall asleep almost immediately into his arms.

There was no sign of the sun when I awoke. I sigh, sitting up. I rub my face and decide to go downstairs for a glass of water, slipping on Quinn’s shirt that I’ve still yet to return. “Hey Jack” I say as I see the familiar face in the kitchen. “Hey,” he takes a sip from his drink, leaning against the counter. “I’m surprised you can still walk.” He teases and I just roll my eyes. I grab a water bottle from the fridge, sitting on the counter as I drink it, opposite from Jack. Jack moves from his spot, walking to stand in between my legs. I sit my water bottle down and wait for him to do something. He stares down at me for a moment before he sinks down to his knees.

I bite my bottom lip as I watch him. My hand instinctively traps itself into his hair. “Jack” I whisper but he doesn’t respond, too busy pressing kisses into my thighs, “what if someone comes down stairs?” “You better be quiet then.” He mumbles against my inner thigh. Without warning, he presses his mouth against my cunt harshly. I throw my head back, trying my best to hold back my moans as I tug his hair. “Tastes so fucking good.” He mumbles. The way he moves his tongue along my folds, sucking my clit every time he gets to it, has me going mad.

I bite down on my bottom lip harshly. “Jack.” I whisper out to mask a moan. His eyes look up at me innocently as if he weren’t doing such a vulgar act. I throw my head back, trying to push my hips further into his face as if to get impossibly closer to him. My jaw drops as my legs shake around his head, my hands dropping from his hair to brace myself on the counter. His movements not faltering as my juices coat his face. He works me through my orgasm, not stopping until I have to physically push him away. Jack stands back up, licking the remaining juices off of his lips.

I hop off the counter as I chug the remainder of my water bottle, not wanting any waste. I turn back to Jack, standing in my tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips in a peck. “Go to sleep.” I say quietly before turning to return to my own room. I close the door behind me before climbing onto the bed and returning to my rightful spot in Luke’s arms. His arms pull me closer to him, the comfortableness forcing me to fall asleep quickly.

The birds chirping out the window soon me up from my sleep, the comfortable look on Luke’s face not wanting me to leave him resting. I silently wiggle out of his arms, looking into the drawers I put my clothes in for any shorts. I find a presentable pair of denim shorts and I figure putting on a swim suit now would save me of the hassle later. I find a random black swimsuit I packed and figure it’ll do. I pull off Quinn’s t shirt, tossing it to the side so I can put the bikini on. I pull his shirt back on, followed by the shorts before opening the door to make my way down stairs.

I’m greeted by Ellen and Jim in the kitchen preparing breakfast. “Smells good” I compliment, smiling at the couple. “Thank you, honey… coffees ready if you want some.” I nod and thank her, filling a mug with coffee and mixing it to my likings. I take the cup outside, wanting to enjoy the view of the lake when I drink it. The second I step out of the door I spot Quinn sitting on a bench at the docks. I smile to myself and decide to join him. I walk to the dock with the mug in my hands.

“Good morning.” I say softly as I take the seat next to him. “Morning” he looks me up and down and smiles, “is the shirt that comfortable?” He teases and I shrug, “it smells like you.” He stares at me for a moment, “did I hurt you? I mean… last night, did I?” I smile at his worried tone and shake my head. “No, you didn’t I promise.” He nods “good” then he goes quiet again. He looks back at me and sighs.

“Any chance I had with you is ruined now, isn’t it?” I shrug, “I dunno if I could bring myself to date any of you.” He reaches his hand up to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear as I sip the coffee. I look at him and smile, “you were the reason this all happened in the first place.” He furrows his brows, “what?” “Jack and Luke were jealous that I had a crush on you.” I laugh, “that’s why he went bragging to you after, I guess.” Quinn cracks a smile, nodding along to my words.

I finish up my coffee and Quinn notices quickly, “wanna go back inside?” I nod and stand up with him. Before we start our walk back I look up at him bashfully. “What?” He laughs. I grab onto the collar of his shirt and bring him down to a soft and sweet kiss. He pulls away with a happy yet confused expression on his face as if asking why. “I had to kiss you before I had the chance to think rationally.” He laughs and grabs onto my hand, leading me inside.

Ellen and Jim were outside eating a delicious looking breakfast. “Breakfast is inside.” Jim smiles and I nod, thanking them once again. I walk into the kitchen and see the two other Hughes brothers stuffing their faces. Before I could even grab a plate from the cabinet Jack speaks up. “I gotta know, who fucks better.” I scoff and roll my eyes. “I can’t answer that.” I grab my plate and grab some food before giving Luke a knowing look that makes his face grow hot.

The look is cut short by a light pounding on the front door. Jack nearly falls on to his face with how fast he stands up. He makes his way to the door, opening it just to be attacked in a hug by his two best friends. After the initial attack, Trevor walks past Jack and into the kitchen. Trevor leans on the counter next to Luke, looking me up at down. “Well don’t you look as hot as ever.” He flirts. “Back off” both the oldest and the youngest Hughes boys both say. Trevor’s eyes widen and I have to cover my mouth to suppress a laugh.

[sugar-coat-it]

Body piercer! Matty part three 

Part 1, Part 2

I missed writing for this man so much my god he is my everything. If you haven’t read the other parts, go ahead and do that first for context perhaps! 

Fem! Reader

Contains: Mutual pining, cutie newly established relationship, mention of marijuana, proud concert bf Matty, him being protective of girlie at the show, exhibitionism (light petting in the crowd), rough quickie (unprotected), public sex (bathroom), fingering and fucking on the counter, Matty puts his hand over her mouth, mirror sex, choking (with jewelry)

WC: ~6.3k

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PART THREE- Your new boyfriend takes you to a punk show, ending with a quickie in the venue bathroom

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Both you and Matty knew in your hearts that this wasn’t just a fling. Flings didn’t stay up for endless hours on the phone, knowing damn well that you both had work the next morning. Flings also didn’t think about each other for every waking minute, always sending each other sentimental messages when things reminded them of each other. And, they certainly don’t touch you the way Matty touches you: like he’s like he’s been starved of you his entire life. He’d frankly been losing his mind, constantly daydreaming at work as he stared at the Polaroid of the two of you he kept at the front desk, knowing he couldn’t stand not calling you his girlfriend much longer. Not after the past couple of weeks you’d been seeing each other had been some of the best of his life. He was so antsy over the fact that he couldn’t actually call you his that it was eating him alive, where else would he ever find someone as perfect for him as you? His work friends teased him endlessly for being so head over his platform boot heels, telling him how he needed to lock you down as soon as possible. He endearingly calls you his “favorite client”, but you’ve quickly become his favorite everything (“No. You don’t even get it, mate,” he’d said, rambling on to some poor guy whose ears he was piercing, “she's like… the light of my life, really”). But, considering that you couldn’t close your eyes without picturing his pretty brown irises staring back at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges with all his twinkling, wild mirth, you weren’t faring much better.

 Just as you’d hoped from that first night together, his sleepy eyes were in fact now a constant in your life. He asked you to be his girlfriend after taking you back to the same cafe where you’d had your blind date. Needless to say, it was an enthusiastic yes on your part, and everything has been so much brighter since, you can hardly imagine your life without all of his ruckus. Your days with him are long and lazy, and the nights are even longer, often spent wrapped up in his sheets or giggling while curled up on his couch after a smoke session.

You’ve learned a lot about Matty in the time you’ve been together. Like his tendency to leave things in your flat, his ungodly marijuana tolerance levels, and his love for his puppy Mayhem. You’ve also found that he takes his music very seriously. Listening to music is like a ritual to him, one that he refuses to partake in with “trashy” music. You call it snobbery, he calls it having good taste, and lately, he’s been trying to share that taste with you. He’s almost been subtly brainwashing you into getting into his bands, playing their songs in his car, burning some of their tracks on his CD mixtapes for you (always scrawled with cute Sharpie doodles and bad handwriting), humming the melodies of his favorite songs to you while cuddling. Honestly, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working, you’ve found yourself adding his music to your playlists, combining your styles much like how the mohawked man has slowly rooted his way into every corner of your life. 

So of course, words couldn’t describe how thrilled he was when you agreed to see one of his favorite bands play at a punk rock show. He’d approached you with the idea tentatively, explaining that it was fine if you didn’t want to go, he’d just take one of his mates from work if so. The way his face lit up when you said yes, your heart could have burst as you watched his eyes sparkle with pure unbridled joy. Then, he leaned in and kissed every inch of your face, ignoring your giggles and protests of him tickling you while he declared how much you were going to love it. 

 When the day of the show arrived, you kept your outfit simple: baggy, ripped jeans, a white tank top, a band hoodie, and a studded belt you recovered from the depths of your closet, figuring you’d at least blend in with the grungier crowd that way. You put on one last thing to complete the look, hooking Matty’s chunky, silver chain (that of course, he’d left on your dresser) around your neck. You smile to yourself as you tuck it under your clothes, liking the feel of having him close to your heart like this. When did you become such a sap?

Meanwhile, Matty was pacing around your flat, making sure he had everything he needed and that you’d get there in time for doors. His reasoning for being punctual was much less about him than it was for you. He wanted you to fully experience being close to the stage because he knows how much you like to take pictures at shows, your constantly full phone storage being a telltale sign of that. He was going full-on concert boyfriend mode, also keeping your lipstick and your wallet in his little hip pouch so you wouldn’t have to worry about carrying anything but your phone. He’d clearly thought this through quite a lot, he’d been looking forward to it for weeks. 

A sudden kiss to his cheek quiets the hum of his overactive mind when you approach him, his furrowed brows sloping to a soft look of adoration as he insists on you standing still so he can take a good look at your outfit. He holds his fingers up in front of him in the shape of a square, squinting one eye closed like he’s framing you for a memory. Sure, the relationship was shiny and new, but something about the way he looked at you told you this wasn’t going to dull with time’s cruel hands, not any time soon at least. 

“Ohh, yeah. Very punk rock, baby,” he smiles slyly, chuckling as you roll your eyes. 

“Hardly! I don’t exactly have the wardrobe for this.”

“Shh, nonsense. You’re like a regular Joan Jett, babe. But hotter.”

“But hotter? Wow,” you laugh, now glancing down at the jewelry adorning his hands and wrists, “I like your bracelet.”

Matty cringes, sucking a breath through his teeth while looking up towards the ceiling. He recalls just how he’d obtained said bracelet as a teenager with something to prove. He was never a bad kid, just a highly restless one who got bored too easily. Besides, he never got in any real trouble since his parents would have strung him up by his toes otherwise. 

“Erm, thanks. I think I nicked it when I was a teen.”

“You were a delinquent!?” you exclaim, causing Matty’s loud laughter to ring through the apartment.

“That’s a strong term, innit? Let’s call it… misguided… and stupid. Now c’mon, out the door, miss.” 

You shake your head playfully as he shoos you out of the flat, imagining a younger version of your boyfriend getting into all sorts of mischief. You can almost perfectly picture his toothy, boyish grin as he runs around the streets of his hometown with his mates by his side, freckle-faced and carefree, his curls in an unruly mop on his head. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in his younger, wilder days. An odd part of you hopes he still would have liked you. 

“Why do you still have it?” you ask as you start your walk to the train together. “What can I say? I’m unbelievably sentimental.”

The train ride is quiet, you share his wireless earbuds and listen to music side by side. The deal was that the queue of songs switched back and forth, you got to play one song, then him. He leans his head against your shoulder, the muss of hair atop the shaved sides of his head grazing your neck. He almost falls asleep as you start to scratch the top of his head. But, inevitably, all of his energy comes rushing back to him when the train comes to a halt. Immediately, he’s grabbing your hand to bound down the street to the venue, shouting about how good of a spot you’re going to get. 

—---------------------------------------------

Once inside, at a glance, you don’t exactly fit in here. A sort of insecurity festers in you as you eye some of the girls dressed in spikes and leather, they looked like they belonged here, and so did your boyfriend. But, you try to shake it off nonetheless, even if you didn’t feel nearly as cool as you wanted to. This place was like the high council of people who exclusively wear clothes with tears in them.

Matty stands close behind you as you pack in with the rest of the grungy-looking crowd. His hands are on your hips as he glances around, making sure that you have enough space to stand comfortably. He knows how these shows can get, and he’s made it his personal mission to make sure no one ruins the experience for you. He shoots a look at any guy who tries to stand too close to you, the coldness of his stare sending them inching away from your personal space with cowardice. In an instant, the mean look is wiped off his face as he glances down at you, seeing how happy you seem to be there with him. He leans down, the cool metal of his chain grazing your neck as he speaks near your ear, just loud enough so you can hear him over the buzz of chatter throughout the venue. 

“Can you see alright?” he asks, giving your hips a little squeeze. 

You nod with a smile, having a fairly clear view of the stage. You’re only about three rows back thanks to Matty’s punctuality. You turn your head, grasping the necklace around his neck gently before pulling him down further so you can kiss his cheek. A grin breaks out on your boyfriend’s face, he can’t help but chuckle at your little move, he loves it when you get bold with him. His lips brush against your ear as he murmurs “little minx” before standing back up to his full height.

Matty talks over the pre-show music as he tells you a bit of background about the bands playing tonight, prattling on about who plays what and what makes them so cool. You listen to him with an enamored look plastered on your face, nodding along even when you have no clue what he’s talking about, but what else is new? It only makes you adore him more with every detail rattled off from the depths of his mind.

“... and this one here I don’t know shit about, to be honest. I reckon they’re probably fine though,” he shrugs, showing you the lineup on his phone. 

You squint at the screen, tapping your nail against one of the names you recognize because of him. You blink up at him prettily, knowing he’s going to get a kick out of what you say next.

“This is the one with the guy who plays the drums with two pedals, right?” you recall, tilting your head at him, knowing damn well that you’re laying it on thick. 

“Yes!! Yes, exactly,” he beams, his eyes instantly lighting up before he presses an enthusiastic kiss to your temple, “That’s my fuckin’ girl. The coolest girlfriend.”

Soon, the show begins, and Matty lets out an excited whoop as the first band makes their entrance, the one he’d bought the tickets for in the first place. He lets go of your hips, taking a small step back to give you the room to dance if you want to. He’s so considerate of you, it makes a glowing sort of warmth swell in your chest. You glance back at him and he gives you two thumbs up, his face scrunching up with a grin that’s so earnestly Matty, you have to resist the urge to just grab him and kiss him till your lips are raw right in the middle of the crowd. Not to mention how fucking good he looks tonight, his tank top allowing his tattooed arms to be on full display, and it should be illegal how tightly those black leather pants cling to his legs.

Your attention turns back to the stage as the first notes ring through the small venue, grungy guitar chords echoing off of the walls. Nothing gives you the same feeling as live music does, the pure thrill it makes rush through you is unmatched (sorry, Matty). The music is harsh, it grates on your ears, but in the best way possible. It’s invigorating, fucking electrifying, it’s thrumming in the hollow of your chest. You feel alive. Matty leans over to see it all happen from just a step away, watching the stage lights reflect in your eyes. He hadn’t looked at the band once, this was far more mesmerizing than anything that could be happening up there. You’ve completely captured his attention, and when you start bobbing your head to the beat and singing along to the chorus, Matty almost drops to one knee right then and there. He’s already mentally noted that this song will in fact be played at your wedding reception.

As the set goes on, his eyes stay on you for the majority of the time, he’s just so taken by watching you have this much fun hearing his music, which is now your music too. He’s simply beaming with pride. Every time you look back at him with that thrilled look on your face while you’re moving to the rhythm only solidifies to him that you’re his absolute dream girl. And of course, he’s having the time of his life too. Matty mouthes along to all of the words, nodding his head in a way that makes his quaffed mohawk bounce with his movements. And, shit, it’s hot in the crowd, you can feel the heat radiating off of the bodies moving around you. The hoodie you brought may have been an oversight, you can practically feel your mascara melting off of your lashes. 

The show goes on, and when the moshing in the middle of the crowd gets increasingly rowdy, one man gets shoved and sent hurtling past the bodies between you and the mosh pit. You quickly hold your hands out to brace for the impact, knowing this can’t end well as you prepare to meet your leather-jacketed doom. The man is visibly very intoxicated and he would have stumbled straight into your body from the momentum if Matty’s hands hadn’t shot out to block him, catching him by his shoulders.

“Oi! Watch where you’re fuckin’ going, fuck’s sake!” Matty spits, sending him back toward the pit with a light push. 

Now, had Matty done his fair share of moshing and getting absolutely catapulted into other people at breakneck velocity? Yes. It’s not even entirely the guy’s fault that he almost crashed into you, he was pretty drunk and didn’t have his wits or his balance about him, but in Matty’s mind, he might as well have tried to tackle you to the ground WWE style. 

“I could have caught him!” you argue over the music, laughing at the bitter look on your boyfriend's face.

Matty raises an eyebrow at you and shakes his head with an amused smile, but doesn’t argue. Maybe you could have, but he wasn’t about to let some sloshed idiot break his girlfriend's back because that’s his job, dammit. 

The band’s set is finished with a bang, the final chords echoing in your ears as you try to catch your breath from moving almost nonstop, your heart thundering against your ribs. You turn around to face Matty with a giant grin plastered on your face, letting out a breathless, excited laugh. He just chuckles, eyeing the strands of hair sticking to your face from the sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup rimming your wide eyes. He’s not in much better shape, his tank top is clinging to his body like a second skin. By this point, your hoodie feels like it has its own climate, and you’re dying to peel it off. 

“Fun?” he asks, as you start to lift the fabric over your head.

“Oh my god, yeah,” you breathe, your voice muffled by the hoodie. 

“I-”

His next words die in his throat as his eyes immediately snap to your chest, his breath catching as he spots the clear outline of your nipple piercings through your drenched, white tank top and- was that one of his chains around your neck? He feels a stir in his tight leather pants as his mouth slightly drops, he can’t remember ever being so instantly and completely turned on. Heat ripples through his body, climbing up to his face as he shamelessly stares at your tits. Not only were you showing off his skillful work, but your pretty neck was adorned with the chain he’d forgotten all about at your place. It might even look better on you than it does on him.

 You’re tying your hoodie around your waist when you catch the look on his face, your brows knitting together with confusion till you follow his gaze and find your piercings proudly displayed through your shirt. As the realization dawns on you, you look up at your boyfriend with a coy smile. Matty shudders, lust crowding his mind as he struggles to come up with a coherent thought, one that isn’t wildly pornographic. He can actually feel his hands tense with the urge to grasp, to lay claim to you with his fingertips. You simply look up at him through your lashes, watching him short-circuit right before your eyes. 

Before he has the chance to say or do anything, the next band comes onto the stage, the crowd roaring to life a second time. You give him a knowing look before turning back around to face the direction of the music. Matty swallows hard, raking a hand through his mohawk like he’s grappling with demons… and losing.

The music is nothing more than a pulsing beat in his skull, his attention is fully on the back of your head. He begins to inch forward to you, his hands finding a home on your hips while you vibe to the beat. He brings your hips back against him, feeling your movements stutter as the protrusion in his trousers presses into your ass as if to say “Feel what you did to me?”. You get the message loud and clear, draping your weight against him, your head lolling back against his shoulder as you both rock to the beat of the drums, sweaty skin to sweaty skin. Matty’s hands begin to wander, mapping over the damp fabric of your tank top, up your stomach, over your ribs till- oh. You gasp, the stage lights strobing under your closed eyes as he squeezes your tits through your top. Matty can distinctly feel the barbells through the thin fabric, it drives him fucking wild. Your lips part as you melt into him like honey, your skin feels like it’s on fire as the music blares through the venue. Your stomach swoops when he dares to flick the piercings with his fingertips, danger humming in your veins as he gets bolder, as if you’re not surrounded by a sea of people. Your eyes snap open, you quickly glance around to find that everyone’s far too enthralled with the show to notice, not that Matty would give a shit if they did. No one can hear the way you whimper when he pinches your nipples. You stare down at the large hands that possessively grope your breasts, feeling a throb resound between your thighs. 

“Matty, you said this was the band you don’t know, right?” you call to him, your voice uneven and unnaturally high-pitched. 

His heavily lidded eyes look almost black with the way they darken as he reads between the lines. Even if it was one of the bands he liked, he’s pretty sure absolutely nothing could stop him from doing what comes next, not when his dick is this hard, and you’ve teased him this salaciously. Wordlessly, Matty lets go of your chest and grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd towards the exit. He moves fast, the urgency in his strides and on his face likely making people move out of the way quicker. You’d feel concerned about losing your spot up front if your mind wasn’t so scrambled with need, your legs rushing to keep up with your lanky boyfriend. 

Your head is spinning as he swiftly leads you into the nearest gender-neutral bathroom. Matty’s hands are on you the moment he closes and locks the door, he’s all over you in every sense of the term. You breathe in the musk of his sweat between the melding of your lips. The kiss is messy, it’s searingly hot as he desperately licks into your mouth, his fingertips digging into your hip bones. He backs you up blindly until your hips meet the bathroom counter, his hands reaching to undo the hoodie tied around your waist and toss it aside without breaking the kiss once. You didn’t think you could get much hotter than you were in the crowd, but now you’re burning up from the inside with white-hot desire.

Matty hastily turns you around to face the bathroom mirror, tagged with graffiti and littered with lipstick prints at the border. It was clear that the space was well-loved, but clean. A culmination of every aspiring artist and sticker enthusiast in the area, almost no spot on the wall was left untouched. Your eyes are drawn away from the decor as Matty grasps your jaw from behind you, turning your head to make you meet the almost feral look in his eyes through the mirror. He holds you that way as he leans down to press dire, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his other hand snaking down your front to unbutton your pants. The feeling of his tongue stud soothing over faded love bites only makes you weaker in the knees. Matty fumbles with the zipper of your jeans for a moment before he shoves the clothing down your legs, the fabric pooling around your ankles. It’s clear that he’s not wasting time with his usual delicate, worshiping caresses of your thighs while he undresses you, this is an electrified frenzy. 

“No bra, baby? Is that how you want to play?” he mutters, his lips grazing the column of your neck teasingly. 

“I-I didn’t-” you begin to protest, only to be cut off by your own moan as he gives a rough pinch to your nipple through your top.

Matty follows the curve of your midsection with his hand, intense honey-colored eyes locked on you through your reflection, the image swirled at the edges with colorful spray paint. A shudder reverberates through your body as his fingers venture lower, dipping below the waistband of your soaked panties. Your body instinctually arches backward against his, mewling when his calloused fingertips brush against your swollen clit. It’s like he can light up every one of your senses with just a graze, your breath getting shallower by the second. You feel his stiff cock twitch in his trousers as you press yourself impossibly closer to him, every inch of his glowing skin flush against your back. Matty continues his loving assault on your neck as his thick digits gather the arousal pooling between your thighs. Your dazed vision trails downward as you stare at his hand shoved inside your panties from behind you, watching the fabric shift with every movement of his skilled hand. You whine as he circles your slit before beginning to sink his slicked fingers into you, your eyes squeezing shut as the dizzying pleasure thrums in your veins. 

“Shhh. You know how much I love your pretty noises, baby, but be good, okay? Can you do that? Don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to, do you?” he murmurs, dragging his plush bottom lip against your ear lobe. 

You nod wordlessly, afraid that if you open your mouth, noise will overflow from you uncontrollably, his fingers being knuckle-deep in you is just too damn good. If you don’t control yourself, anyone outside could hear you, could know how good your boyfriend is filling you with his fingers, satisfying you to your very core. The thought of it alone makes your heart hammer in your chest harder. You don’t want them to know… because that would be wrong, it would be undignified… it’d be… kind of hot.

 His digits stretch you open as he begins to diligently pump them in and out of you, curling them towards the spot that he knows will make you see stars. He works quickly, his pace is almost feverish from his determination to make you fall to pieces as efficiently as he can. Matty’s other hand is groping your breast, squeezing the fullness of it, his rings pressing into your flesh through your thin tank top. You bite down on your lip hard enough that you think you might tear the flesh open, desperately trying to keep your whimpers quiet. Matty’s gaze on you is cautionary, his eyebrows slightly raised like he’s testing you, seeing just how much you can take. 

The last of your defenses come crumbling down as the pad of his thumb presses against your clit, the flood of sensations making a moan burst from your throat as he begins to draw tight circles on the bundle of nerves. In an instant, Matty’s hand is off of your chest and is clasped over your mouth, muffling any noise. Fuck.

“I mean it. Pipe down, or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, smirking at you as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“No- no, please don’t stop,” you babble against his palm like the idea of it was simply unbearable.

Matty’s hand stays firmly over your mouth as he withdraws his fingers from inside you, ignoring the way you squirm in protest, whining uselessly. He tugs your ruined panties down your legs, letting them join your pants in a heap around your ankles. It’s almost embarrassing how you can hardly contain your desire, but he likes it that way, knowing how needy you are.

“Matty, please, fuck, need it,” you mumble, and he can see the way your desire is clawing at you from the inside just from a glance.

“Be patient for me, my love,” he smiles, hurriedly pulling himself out of his uncomfortably skin-tight pants with his free hand, “You’ll get what you want. Being stuffed full with my cock, hm?”

You whimper as Matty nudges your legs further apart with his foot, leaning you forward over the counter onto your elbows. He whistles lowly at the sight of you, his eyes following down your spine, over the curve of your ass, and to your dripping pussy. You tremble slightly as he reaches between your legs, collecting your honey on his fingers before spreading it over his shaft, slicking himself with your arousal. A whine vibrates against the palm Matty holds over your mouth as you swing your hips in a desperate attempt to entice him. He just chuckles darkly, keeping his hand securely in place as starts to guide his cock through your folds, the head kissing your aching clit as he rubs it back and forth. 

Matty doesn’t waste a second longer, you can hardly process it before he’s pushing inside of you, gasping as he fills you inch by inch. His fingertips press into the side of your face as he tightens his hold on your mouth to muffle your mewls, watching as your lashes flutter, your face contorting with pleasure. He can feel your hot, heavy breaths fanning into his palm, your chest heaving as he bottoms out inside of you. Matty groans loudly, tossing his head back as he’s fully surrounded by your velvety warmth, forgetting his own volume rules that he’d set for you. Hypocrite.

“Oh, fuck, you feel so good,” he sighs, reaching to pull your tank top over your breasts, “Stay like that for me, yeah? Wanna see your perfect tits.”

He barely allows you a moment to breathe before he’s snapping his hips against you roughly, letting out a strained grunt with every thrust. Sensations trickle up your spine like flickering flames as a muffled cry spills out of you. Matty angles his hips just right, hitting so deep inside you that you feel as though you’re being split open by each drive of his cock, it’s mind-numbing. Your whole body jolts against the counter with his purposeful movements, the edge of the porcelain biting into your hip bones. He can hardly focus on just one thing, his gaze darting from where he’s disappearing inside of you, to your gorgeous face, to your breasts. Matty’s raspy voice makes your eyes refocus on him, you watch in the mirror as he licks his teeth like he wants to devour you whole.

“You see how pretty you look? No, no, sweetheart, don’t look at me, look at yourself. God, isn’t she pretty?” he drawls, “You look so sexy, wearing my chain like that while you’re taking my cock.”

At his instruction, you meet your own eyes through the reflection, your eyebrows sloping as you realize that he’s right, you do look pretty when he’s fucking you. Your rosied cheeks, your blown pupils, your glowing skin… and your boyfriend’s hand over your mouth. Your chain bounces against your collarbones in tandem with your pierced tits, it’s no wonder he’s loving this position so much, he gets to watch everything at once. While you’re gazing at yourself, Matty reaches around and begins to rub two fingers on your clit, swirling them in intoxicatingly quick figure eights. You watch your own eyes go wide as the pleasure ricochets through your bones, making you light-headed. This must be the expression Matty lives for when he’s got you like this, the face to his sweetest wet dreams. You’re almost mesmerized by seeing yourself get railed to high heaven, it’s sort of an odd feeling.

In one swift motion, Matty lets go of your face and grasps the chain around your neck, pulling it taut against your throat from behind, ripping a shocked cry from your lips. 

“Ohh, she liked that one,” he grins lazily, tilting his head back with a groan as he feels your walls clamp down on him like a vice, “Shit, not gonna last if you keep doin’ that, god damn.”

It feels like he’s stolen the air directly from your lungs as he lightly chokes you with the silver links you’d so slickly “borrowed” from him. Even just the slight restriction of oxygen has you reeling, your eyes rolling back as your hands claw at the counter, your whole body buzzing with mortifying heights of exhilaration. It’s a dizzying combination of thrill and precarious risk as Matty keeps a tight hold on the chain while fucking you with such vigor that you don’t feel attached to your body, the counter being your only loose grasp on reality. It only makes every drive of his cock feel that much more visceral, the tension coiling tighter in your belly. Heat prickles at your cheeks and the bridge of your nose at the purely obscene sounds of him thrusting into your sopping cunt, skin on skin echoing through the small space while his fingers abuse your clit.

It’s all building up so fast, quicker than usual due to Matty’s frenzied rhythm, his hips meeting yours again and again, unrelentingly. You bite back a wail as the tension so deep inside you reverberates in crackling pangs, threatening to break you to pieces as you arch backward. Your hips writhe against his hand both like you’re chasing the friction and trying to thrash away from its intensity. He can tell you’re on the edge of euphoria, teetering with every swipe of his fingers, every slam of his hips. He gives the chain a harsh tug, knowing it’ll send you spiraling into the depths of pleasure just beyond your fingertips.

“Fuck!” you gasp, one of your hands flying to grip his wrist as your mind goes impossibly blank, your nails digging into his skin, “I’m gonna- I-I can’t!”

“Shit, me too, angel. So close. Oh, fuck, cum for me, sweet girl. Cum for me while I fill you up,” he grunts, a burst of energy coming over him as he manages to piston into you even more brutally. 

It crashes over you like a thunderous wave, spiraling through you from your dizzied head to the tips of your curled toes. He lets go of the chain, putting his hand over your mouth again to stifle your cry, the disorienting rush of oxygen almost making your knees give out from underneath you, and they just might have if Matty hadn’t kept you supported against the counter. It feels like pure white light is fizzling under your eyelids as Matty makes you reach the stars with your climax, dousing you in pulsating bliss as you clench around him tightly. He lets out a deep, animalistic sound as he spills inside of you, warmth flooding your insides as he fucks you through your orgasm, his rhythm beginning to falter from the effort. 

“Fuuuck!” he hisses through gritted teeth, along with other breathy strings of profanities. 

Slowly, his body stutters to a stop, giving one last roll of his hips before he collapses over you as delicately as he can, enveloping you with his chest to your back. He lovingly presses kisses to the back of your neck as your head hangs forward slightly, both of you gasping to catch your breath. 

“H-holy shit, babe. You’re so good…you’re fucking incredible,” he mutters, seeming just as dazed as you are. 

He can’t seem to stop complimenting you and loving on you as he keeps you held up with his hands on your hips, rubbing little circles into your skin as you both come down from the highest of highs. The afterglow clouds your head in a way that makes you feel like you’re floating with Matty being your only anchor to the ground. 

“Matty…” you mumble, reaching back blindly for his face.

“I’m right here. Right here, love,” he whispers, guiding your palm to his cheek. 

You smile warmly as you feel the scruffy sides of his head at your fingertips, Matty keeping his hand over yours sweetly. At the same time you both glance upwards at the mirror, letting out simultaneous giggles as you appreciate the state you’re in. He leans to kiss your cheek, peering into your eyes adoringly through the reflection, pulling your top back down over your breasts. 

“Oh my god… we’re a mess,” you snort, rubbing aimlessly at your runny mascara with your free hand.

“You mean you’re a mess, I look damn good,” he jokes, starting to slowly ease you both back up into a standing position. 

You both let out a breathy sound as he pulls out of you slowly, his cum beginning to streak down your thighs. Of course, Matty stares, swallowing thickly like he’ll never quite get used to the sight while he shimmies back into his pants. Diligently, he reaches for a handful of paper towels, keeping a gentle hold on your hip. You reach to try and smack his arm when he laughs at the way your legs are trembling, your knees wobbling due to how hard he’d railed you. He dodges the blow, grinning at you triumphantly.

Matty gently wipes away the residue of his pearly release, whispering a hushed “I know, I know” when you squirm at the sensitivity. Once he discards the paper towels, he kneels down to pull your underwear and your jeans back up, kissing his way up the outside of your leg as he does so, looking into your eyes with a playful glint. He kisses you deeply while he buttons your pants with nimble hands, not even letting you lift a finger as he takes care of his girl. You throw your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as he teases his tongue piercing along your bottom lip just to make you shiver. 

“My perfect girl,” he mumbles against your mouth.

You stay in the bathroom for just a little longer, kissing and whispering sweet things to each other while your bodies fully come down, Matty shouting at whoever keeps intermittently knocking on the door to fuck off. You can’t help but feel a little tinge of guilt in your stomach for “christening” the restroom the way you did, but you highly doubt you were the first. 

After he reassures you that the makeup streaked down your cheeks is “hardcore” and that you should leave it the way it is, you finally leave to re-enter the show (not before one final, drawn-out kiss, of course). Your boyfriend keeps you close by his side, his fingers interlocked with yours as you find yourselves at the very back of the pit, scattered with only a few other people. Matty guides your arms around his neck, grinning at you like a fool as you start to rock back and forth to the rhythm of the drums. His smile is infectious as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, singing to you when the song reaches its chorus. He looks incredibly dorky as mimics the wail of the guitar solo, swinging his hips while his hands rest comfortably on your waist, almost like you’re about to slow dance. You tell him as such and Matty just tosses his head back with a laugh like a little kid. His eyes are sparkling, but not just from the iridescent stage lighting, it’s the look he gets only when he’s with you. You feel your heart swell in your chest as you continue to dance like you’re the only two in the venue, and he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the whole world. 

—-----------------------------------------

SO I was a liar and I did write another part. I intended this to be a blurb but I had so many more thoughts about them and their relationship eeeeee

The ending was soooo “do you wanna dance, dance at the back of the hall”

I love them. I need them to be happy forever actually. 

This one is dedicated to my lovely lovely friend B (@haveyouseenherlately) thank you so much for the ideas, you get body piercer like no one else, queen. Love you!!!

Go check out her stuff if you haven’t it SLAYS <3

[zepskies]

Choosing Him

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, Sam W. x Reader

Summary: You and Sam have been dating and living together for a few months, when Dean shocks you with a confession. Now you have to choose.

AN: This was requested by this beautiful anon! (And also by my friend! ❤️)

Read this as a stand-alone or see this imagine for context: Dean gives you an impossible choice. (In which Dean is in love with Sam’s girlfriend.)

**Note: This contains two alternate endings: Sam vs. Dean.

Song Inspo: “I’m on Fire” by Bruce Springsteen

Word Count: 4,300 Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love, as well as love requited.

Imagine: Choosing him.

“Dean, just talk to me. What the hell happened?” Sam asked.

No, he implored. Angrily.

But he implored, nonetheless.

Dean was good at being stubborn. In fact, he was a professional. His lips were tight in a frown, his brows just as knitted as his brother’s.

He sat cross armed on the couch while Sam stood, using his hands to punctuate his exclamations, as he often did when he was frustrated.

“Nothing, man. I already told you,” Dean tried.

“No,” Sam said sharply. “She’s actively avoiding you. And you’re taking any excuse you can not to be within three feet of my girlfriend. So either you said something, or you did something.”

Dean looked up at his brother with a heavy sigh through his nose.

They’d been at this for a while now. So long that he was surprised you hadn’t come barreling into the living room already to break up the argument. Because he had a feeling that just the sight of you would shut them both up. (Not in a good way.)

Dean’s throat was tight, his stomach churning with unease, though he tried to show none of it on his face. He could see that Sam was on the verge of losing his shit. Just a hair away from assuming the worst.

And the worst of him.

That, Dean couldn’t abide.

“Look,” he gritted out. “I didn’t do anything.”

Sam paused, tilting his head. He took in a breath that was only slightly calming, enough that he lowered to a seat on the coffee table, across from his brother.

“Then what’d you say?” he asked.

Dean felt even guiltier just remembering.

Three weeks ago…

You wanted to know why he was drinking alone. Why he’d downed nearly an entire bottle of Jameson in the kitchen on a Tuesday night.

“You really wanna know?” Dean asked. His voice was both a rumble and a coarse whisper. His green-eyed gaze fell to your lips.

He watched you suck in a subtle breath. Your eyed widened, and your body froze. He also saw the blush staining your cheeks.

So he leaned in, slowly. He was mere inches away from finding out how sweet you really were.

He heard your shallow breath. His eyes flicked up to yours, and instinctively knew that he’d captured you. He was making you think about it.

“Tell me no,” Dean said. Tell me to stop, or I swear to God...

“Dean, what...” you whispered. But that wasn’t a no.

Still, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. Not to Sam.

Dean merely reached out with a hand to soothe a gentle thumb across your cheek. He realized then that he loved you. He loved you enough to let you go, if he had to.

"It comes down to this," Dean said. His voice was deep, full of grit and desire. He saw the conflict in your eyes.

He swallowed. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, but he used every ounce of self-restraint he had left, forcing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

"You've got two choices, sweetheart," he said. And he pulled away, leaving you there at the table.

You never told him to stop…but he just couldn’t do it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dean eventually answered his brother.

He ultimately couldn’t bring himself to voice the desperation of a drunken idiot.

He met Sam’s gaze directly. This much, he could say.

“All you need to know is I’d never…even drunk off my ass, I’d never hurt you,” Dean said.

Sam turned those words back and forth in his mind. His mouth firmed as he read between the lines, as he so often had to with Dean, who struggled to express the deeper parts of himself. Sam realized then what his brother was finally confessing.

“She loves you,” Dean added, with a self-deprecating smile.

That fell between them for a moment, as Sam rested a hand on his knee and processed all of this in record time. He glanced up.

“What about you?” he asked.

Again, with that quirk of a smile that didn’t reach Dean’s eyes.

“Don’t you worry about that either.”

He got up, clapped Sam on the shoulder, and left him there to continue thinking. Dean passed the kitchen and continued down the hall.

Neither man realized that you were standing behind the kitchen doorway. You’d been about to attempt a bit of stress baking. A chocolate tart, maybe. Or a cheese souffle. Or even the new cherry pie recipe you’d found for Dean. Anything to take your mind off your current predicament.

However, now you knew you couldn’t put it off anymore.

You didn’t want this, for either of them. You couldn’t let yourself be a coward.

Steeling yourself with a deep breath, you left the safety of the kitchen…

And you ventured into the living room, where your boyfriend was still brooding. He raised his head when he saw you out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat. Even now, he was relieved to see you. He also felt like he was standing on unsteady ground.

“Hey, yourself,” you greeted back. You tried to smile, but your heart was in your stomach with nerves. “I need to tell you something.”

Sam seemed to realize what you wanted to talk about. He sighed.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Dean and I talked it out—”

“No. No, because I need to say this. Because you deserve to hear it from me,” you insisted.

You also paused, as you didn’t quite know where to go from here.

Sam’s brows furrowed, but he tried to be patient. He watched your gears turning as thought to thought shifted in your eyes. It was one of the things he loved most about you, how open and expressive you were. He could usually tell what you were thinking…except for today. And the past few weeks.

That was what had him more nervous than he’d like to admit. If a blow was coming, he’d really like to be prepared…but he just couldn’t fucking tell.

Until you began speaking.

“Okay, first of all. Nothing happened,” you assured. You rested your hands on Sam’s shoulders. He looked up into your eyes, but before he could even nod in response, you kept going.

“Dean was drunk, and I wasn’t. Which probably won’t make you feel all that better, but the point is, all I did was ask him what’s wrong? And he didn’t want to tell me. But then I pushed the issue, as you know I do sometimes. I’m working on it, I really am.”

You levied a finger at Sam, at which he could only nod. Again, before he could offer a reply, you kept going.  

“Well, finally he was all, you sure you wanna know?” you said, mimicking Dean’s deeper voice. Sam was tempted to smile, if but for what you were actually saying, and the way your gaze averted from his.

“And there was a moment there when…I thought maybe he might try to…but he didn’t. The problem is, I didn’t say no,” you confessed. Your brows knitted as you revealed how disheartened you felt at that, how guilt-ridden.

Sam’s eyes softened a bit, even though your words stung.  

“I should’ve said it,” you knew. “I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t. Though in my defense! I was in shock. He was saying shocking things without saying them, you know? And I don’t want to be in this cliché…teen drama-esque, love triangle bullshit! You’re not Edward and I’m not Bella and this isn’t goddamn Twilight. And I refuse to be treated as such.”

You were huffing and puffing by the end of your little rant. Your eyes widened a fraction when you caught Sam trying to stamp down a smile.

“Is this amusing to you?” you snapped.

“Not at all,” Sam said. He shook his head, and with a sigh, drew you back to him with his hands on your hips. You stood between his open legs and grasped the front of his shirt.

“Look, thank you for telling me,” he said. “I know that we kind of rushed this a little. The moving in thing, I mean. It just…it felt right, at the time.”

“Yeah, I was kinda there for that,” you quipped. Your smile made him smile in return.

“Well, I guess I just need to ask you…if it still feels right,” he said.

He looked up into your eyes, still not quite sure what he would find. His heart was in his throat, no matter how many times he cleared it. He was good at looking calm when he wasn’t, and maybe his face was composed, but inside him was a tempest.

You calmed it with one touch. A gentle hand on his chest.

“Sam,” you said. Your smile was beautiful and warm. “After you left Stanford. After what happened to Jess…I didn’t know that her funeral was the last time I was ever going to see you.”

Despite that melancholy memory, your lips soon curved into a grin.

“Well, not for a long time anyway.” You both lightened at that.

Then you became more contemplative. Your gaze wandered beyond him for a moment, lost in the past.

Sam’s hands moved up to your waist and squeezed gently. You came back to him with a brighter expression.

“But when I saw you again, I thought…damn, he’s amazing,” you said with a giggle. “Even more amazing then when I knew him.”

Sam looked down at that, despite his smile. You picked him back up with your hand on his cheek. It was overgrown with stubble, a week or so past when he'd usually shave.

You didn't mind the scratchiness, but you wondered if you'd been distracting him too with your indecision. That thought made you feel all the more guilty.

“I still think that when I see you. Get to wake up next to you, research mythology and symbology and dead languages, and other things that should be impossible,” you said. “So yes, it still feels right for me. Very much so.”

Sam’s more genuine smile lightened you. He nodded and let you tilt his head back, slipping your fingers through his hair. He liked the way you touched him freely, both reassuring and affectionate.

He didn't want to admit it, but he'd been quietly afraid. Afraid he'd read you wrong, that his heart had somehow lied to him. Now he knew that it rang true.

“Okay. Good,” he said. And he reached up to touch his lips to yours.

At least, it was a simple touch at first. It soon grew in passion, becoming a more claiming kiss. He pulled you in flush against him. A hand tangled into your hair, brushing against the back of your neck, and you hummed in delight.

Your hands sunk further into his hair, just as your mouth wordlessly claimed him back. His long fingers trailed down your back and made you shiver against him. You gave more and more of yourself with each kiss.

"I love you," you whispered against his lips. Because he deserved to hear that too.

Sam paused. His eyes were still closed as he recovered some of his breath. He rested his forehead against yours and brushed a tender hand down the soft column of your neck.

"I love you too," he admitted. He had resisted saying it, and even felt a bit ashamed that he'd doubted your feelings. Now, he felt like an idiot for not fighting harder before.

This, what he had with you, it was worth fighting for.

He smiled at the way you kissed his cheek then, soft and slow and with purpose.

After a moment, you pulled away to stroke his cheek once more…and also to tell him one last thing.

“When I saw you again, I did have another thought,” you said. “He’s amazing, but…how can I think that about my best friend’s boyfriend?”

Sam frowned then, as that reality had crossed his mind as well, back when he reconnected with you last year. You held a hand to your chest, over your heart.

“Jess was like a sister to me. So how could I think about you like that? It didn’t matter how much time had passed since her death. That thought, and those feelings still had weight, Sam,” you said. “My point is…try not to be too hard on your brother for this. I think he’d rather lob off an arm than cause you any pain.”

Sam considered your words with a nod.

“I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry,” he said.

“No, I…I’d like to talk to him, if you don’t mind,” you said. “That is, if you trust me.”

Sam’s brows rose, and then furrowed slightly.

“I do, baby,” he said. “You can talk to him if you want, but…I have to. He’s my brother. He should hear it from me too.”

No need, Dean couldn’t help but think.

He pushed off from the wall, twisting a wrench in his hand as he made his way back to the garage.

It stung. Actually, it fucking cut and twisted. More painfully than Dean would ever, ever admit.

However, he knew when he needed to bow out. This was one of those times.

He’d just have to learn how to let you go, for good this time. He wouldn’t risk hurting you, or his brother again.

So once he made it to the end of the hall, he shut the door, once and for all.

Or…

You didn’t want this, for either of them. You couldn’t let yourself be a coward.

Steeling yourself with a deep breath, you left the safety of the kitchen…

And you ducked out the back way, heading down the hall.

You found Dean exactly where you’d expected—in the garage, getting ready to work on his Baby. He was sitting on a stool with his box of tools beside him. Tools he didn’t let anyone touch (except for that one time you hid his power drill, just to mess with him).

You crossed your arms.

“We need to talk,” you said.

Dean sighed, and spied your stern face over his shoulder.

“What fucking now?” he muttered. You didn't quite hear him, but you recognized his surly frown.

“Yes, right now,” you said. “Why did you do it?”

“What?” Dean asked, raising incredulous brows. “Why?”

“Yeah, why.” You stepped up to him while he swiveled in your direction. “If you supposedly had feelings for me, why did you wait so damn long? Why did you wait until we got here?”

You weren’t just casually dating his brother. You were living with him. Even if it had just been a few months, you loved Sam…and yet, you hadn’t pushed Dean away when he almost kissed you.

Why, why, why? you thought. Your teeth ground together when you thought of how tenderly Dean had touched you. The fire in his eyes, just barely held back by a thin wall of self-restraint.

“Tell me no,” he’d said.

And now, annoyance made his face tight.

“Look, just forget about it, all right? I was drunk—”

“No. You weren’t that drunk,” you refuted. “I’ve seen you slaphappy, laughing at nothing, grinning like the Joker and falling onto the couch face-first, passed out drunk. You were coherent that night. You were honest. So tell me, how long have you felt this way?”

Dean tensed. He didn’t want to do this. You both knew that, but he also knew that you weren’t giving him much of a choice.

And yet, you were waiting on him, as patiently as you could manage (something he knew was difficult for you). He sighed deeply.

“Pretty much from the beginning,” he said.

“What?” you said, ever so eloquently. You wanted to cringe at yourself. (And you called yourself a linguist.)

Your lips pursed in disbelief. “What part of the beginning?”

Dean glared heavenward, as if that could stop you from asking questions.

“From the first damn second I saw you,” he snapped. The longer he looked at you, however, he couldn’t help but soften. “I remember, you argued with Sam about dead languages, that Latin was for pussies. Ancient Greek was the tougher beat.”

That was true, you thought. And that argument stemmed back from when you and Sam were in college. Ancient history, you could say.

“The Greeks were more fun too,” you added. It triggered a smile to briefly lighten Dean’s face.

“Yeah, you said something about mass orgies,” he said, his brows furrowing.

You bit your lip at the memory. You might’ve winked at Dean with more confidence than you’d felt at the time.

Now, the man shook his head.

“Right then, I wanted to know you,” he said. “Problem is, the more I did, the more I liked what I saw.”

You stared back at him in dismay.

“Why couldn’t you have just told me from the beginning?” you asked.

Dean made a sound of frustration, carding a hand roughly through his hair.

“Oh, and what, break up the show?” he snarked. He waved haphazardly beyond you, to the moose of a man somewhere beyond the closed doors of the garage. Remembering his brother made Dean’s irritation start to fade, back into self-deprecation.

“You and Sam…you’ve got history,” he said. “He’s smart. He takes care of you, protects you. He’s uh, more the boyfriend type, anyway.”

Dean looked away from you then, crossing his arms. You relaxed yours and couldn’t help but draw near to him. A frown took over your features as you tilted your head.

“Okay, Sam and I have history,” you said with a nod. “But…you don’t think you’re smart too?”

Dean’s lips pursed somewhat as he glanced back up at you. You met his stare.

“You don’t think you’re capable of all those other things?” you asked.

Dean didn’t have an answer for you. At least, not one he was willing to say.

For the past few weeks, you’d been fighting with yourself. You’d turned that moment in the kitchen over and over in your mind, and why you couldn’t do what you were supposed to do.

Now, looking at Dean’s face, you understood why your heart broke for him. Why your heart ached with ridiculous longing for him in equal measure.

You knew then that he’d take care of you. That he’d protect you. And maybe…

“Sam and I don’t make a habit of going after the same girl,” Dean said. Even that, it seemed, was difficult for him to get out.

It broke you from your thoughts, again with your frown.

“Yeah?” you asked. A bit of your temper sparked once again. “Is that why you’re making me Yoko Ono? I’ll tell you something right now. You’re not John and Sam’s not Paul and I refuse to break up the band, Dean!”

“No one’s asking you to!” Dean said, finally raising his voice to match you.

He got off his seat and stood to his full height. Though he wasn’t as tall as his brother, he still towered over you. You craned your head up to glare at him.

His green eyes were once again full of fire. You tried to resist it, but that look made a jolt of electricity zip down your spine, and between your legs.  

“Oh, really?” you retorted. “That’s what you want? For me to forget you didn’t shake me the hell up?”

“Yeah, I really fucking would,” Dean gritted out. Even though his heart leapt at your admission, that he’d shaken you up at all.

“Why?” you said. “If you claim to care about me, why would you—”

“Why would you?” he shot back. He gestured at you with a dismissive hand. “The second you saw him, it was like your face lit the hell up. I’m not gonna get in his way. And by the time the you two were together, I just…I didn’t think you…”

Dean cut himself off, turning from you to wipe a frustrated hand over his mouth.

You watched him very closely, all while you made efforts to take in some deep, even breaths. You followed him, and more tentatively, you grabbed onto his wrist to tug him back around.

“Why would I what, Dean? You didn’t think I’d what?” you all but pleaded. Your grip lowered and tightened on his hand.

“Just talk to me,” you said. “Because this is your one and only chance.”

He was reluctant. For once, you could see it written all over his face. Or maybe you were just getting better at reading him.

“It’s fine. I’ve made my peace with it,” said Dean.

Liar.

He shook his head and slipped his hand out of yours.

“At the end of the day, you saw him, not me,” he said. “So go back upstairs, and we’ll never have to talk about this again.”

Your frown deepened as he sat back down and tried to turn away from you. You were so goddamn mad. At yourself, or at him, you didn’t know what percentages of each.

So you closed the distance between you and Dean and turned him back around, with a firm hand on his shoulder. Even with that small touch, your insides fluttered at the firm muscle there, and the broadness of his frame when he let you move him. He blew out an exasperated breath.

You wavered just slightly, as you contemplated the confession you were about to make. It shamed you, but at the same time, you were woman enough to admit your mistakes.

“I did see you,” you said, meeting his eyes. “But Sam never hesitated to show me what he wanted. And maybe…maybe he was safer. Familiar, and less dangerous.”

Dean’s brows furrowed, incredulous and confused.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked.

You couldn’t fault him for it. Your hand eased on his shoulder.

“Dean, seeing Sam again was like getting my best friend back,” you told him. “Back in college, we were thick as thieves. Me and Jess, Sam and Brady. And when you two found me to help with that case, I wouldn’t have ever seen him as anything more than my friend…until he did something about it.”

Your gaze was pointed. Dean’s lips pursed.

“When I met you,” you continued, “it was like the Godfather ‘thunderbolt.’ When you flirted with me, I didn’t know what to do with myself…whereas with Sam, I could fall back on my old habits.”

Dean’s face knitted further, making you sigh.

“With Sam, I’m the person I was when he knew me. The me that never faltered. That had all my shit together,” you said. Your small smile then was self-deprecating at best.

You felt vulnerable. Dean could see it in the way you held yourself. It was costing you something to be this honest, and that meant something to him. His face might've been stoic, but he was hanging on your every word.

“With you…with you I can’t hide," you said. Your voice was softer, slightly trembling. "And that terrifies me, more than monsters.”

Looking into Dean’s eyes again, you found him actually listening. He seemed to be digesting your words, and trying to make sense of them. You reached for him, clenching a hand in his shirt.

“So what was it that you thought I wouldn’t do?” you asked.

Dean studied your face a moment longer. He hesitated.

But he couldn’t keep lying to you either. What you’d just said gave him hope that he wasn’t about to fall flat on his face here.

With a deep, defeated breath, he shook his head and leaned his elbows on his thighs.

“I just got to thinkin’…” he said. “Why would you give up what you’ve got with him, for me?”

You didn’t know quite what to feel when you looked down at him. Disheartened, sympathetic, annoyed…but most of all, you felt your heart clench.

Your hands framing Dean’s face brought his eyes back to yours. You stepped in between his open legs.

“I’m going to try something. Just once,” you said, biting your lip. “And if it doesn’t work, we won’t speak of this again. Understand?”

A true smile finally twitched at the corner of his mouth.

“All right,” he agreed. You nodded.

Slowly, ever slowly, you leaned down and brushed your lips with his. It was chaste and sweet. Your hands were soft curving along his jawline. His hands found their way to your waist, molding to your shape. That steadied you, and encouraged you to dive back in.

You tilted your head and kissed him a bit deeper. He held you more securely against him, like he was afraid you were going to think better of this and pull away from him.

But you didn’t. His lips were soft and supple and knew how to move against yours. He soon guided you down for a seat on his strong thighs, even though the stool he was sitting on creaked at the added weight.

Then his tongue begged entrance past your lips. If this was his one chance, then damn it, he was going to make the most out of it.

You let him in with a moan. Your fingers tangled in his short hair, your nails dragging down the back of his neck and making a tendril of heat run down his spine. He squeezed your hips, down your thighs, while his lips continued to ravage yours.

It was one hell of a kiss.

But it wasn’t just lust either. At least, not for you. It was warmth, and an overwhelming feeling being right where you were always meant to be.

For Dean, it felt like a craving he wasn't meant to indulge in...but even so, having you in his arms felt as natural as he feared it would be. He didn't just want you. He wanted this. Today, and every day.

When his lips finally dragged away from yours, it took you a moment before you could even open your eyes, let alone catch your breath.

“Damn it,” you whispered.

Dean chuckled, and pulled back just far enough to graze your cheek with his curled fingers.

“Guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said. You smiled, but it soon fell.

“Oh God, Dean. What’re we gonna do?” you asked. Already there were tears stinging in your eyes. And still, you held him back with your arms curled around his neck. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

Dean’s relief, and a hidden swell of happiness, also dimmed. “That ship’s sailed, sweetheart."

You sniffed, wiping at your face. “Don’t joke right now, please.”

“I’m not joking,” he said. He held you a fraction tighter. His deep voice rumbled, with desire, longing, and remorse all at once. “I’m actually serious beyond fucking belief.”

You saw everything you needed to see in his eyes. It gave you the strength to be honest.

“So am I,” you nodded, sniffling again. “I’ll talk to him.”

Dean shook his head. “He’s my brother. I’ll do it.”

You stroked his cheek, feeling the rasp of stubble against your fingers.

“Together, then,” you compromised.

And with an unsettled breath, you reluctantly detangled yourself from Dean. Before this went any further, you needed to talk to Sam. It was easily one of the hardest things you’d ever contemplated doing in your life.

Dean seemed to have similar thoughts as he let you up, then stood along with you. He dragged a hand through his hair again and heaved a sigh.

“It’s not gonna be easy,” he said. His brows drew together as he considered every alternative reaction his brother might have. None of them were pretty.

You rested a hand on his arm.

“Look, Dean. If we’re going to do this…if I need to leave the bunker, I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work, as long as you’re in this with me,” you said.

Both your gaze and your will were unwavering. Dean didn’t doubt that you meant every word; that you were willing to jump into the fire with him. And that was just a small fraction of what had made him fall in love with you.

He took your hand, and pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“I’m with you,” he replied.  

AN: So while it was painful to contemplate both of these scenarios, I hope I did them justice! 🥲

Which ending was your favorite: Sam, or Dean? 😘

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[sungbeam]

nonidol!kim sunwoo x f!reader

you never thought your humble, little podcast would ever touch somebody's soul like it did one kim sunwoo's.

▷ genre, warnings. s2f2l, mutual pining/crushing, college au, fluff, minor angst, humor, comfort, swearing, i actually know very little about anything going on w their majors tbh LOL 💀, uhh sunwoo's a simp but wbk, the outline of sunwoo's abs but if u read too fast u will miss it, kissing, low-key miscommunication trope (im sorry i hate those too), rip sorry yangyang, uhm they're kinda cute i *guess* :/, if there r typos then whoops i don't like editing !!

▷ word count. 28.7k help TT

this is the fifth installment of the love in unity series! this fic can be read as a standalone, but there will be references to the main plotline and all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. ALSO, the second episode specifically has a direct reference to a scene from flight risk, but the rest of the fic won't need any other outside context!

a/n: for @justalildumpling and her chopsticks <3 i dragged myself out of writer's block, pls reblog :'))

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): RHAPSODY… LIKE THE BOHEMIAN ONE?

THERE was something about general education requirement courses that felt too much like a university scam. Why was it required to learn more about things that wouldn’t help one’s chosen career path in the long run? Sunwoo hadn't necessarily been thrilled when he wasn't able to get one of the lower level English classes to fill his requirement, but the 300-level literature class had so far turned out to be… actually interesting. Well, the literature itself was interesting enough. The professor?... Not so much.

There was one thing about this class that he could safely say kept him sane though. And it was more so a person than a thing.

The discussion classroom wasn't terribly full as he strolled through the door with his hoodie thrown over his dark brown curls and headphones, a pretty voice flowing through the ear pieces as he took his usual seat to the side of the room.

"...and we're back! Hope you all enjoyed this week's song recommendation. It's been a favorite of mine ever since my dad introduced it to me when I was a kid. An absolute road trip banger—"

Sunwoo's eyes flickered up to see that the TA for the discussion wasn't yet here, but he lowered the volume on his headset slightly in case.

"—kudos to all the songwriters out there. Writing relevant stuff that transcends time is hard, man. I can't even make meaningful conversation with my graduate student supervisor."

A small smile curled the corners of his lips upward. Just as he anticipated the segment on the host geeking out about her favorite oldies music picks, he heard instead—

"I can't even make meaningful conversation with my other grad student supervisors, you know?"

Wait a minute. Confusion flickered across Sunwoo's face as he checked and lifted one of his headphone ears. That can't be right…

Somebody sat down in the seat beside him, almost startling him because he had his back to the door. It was you, the pretty second-year who he had met on the first day of this discussion a few weeks ago. But he was peering at you now in a whole new light as a smile lingered on your face from your conversation with the class’s TA.

When you felt his eyes on you, you flashed him a bright grin. “Hey, Sunwoo.”

He cleared his throat, fumbling to turn his headphones off and follow your lead in taking out the materials needed for today’s discussion. “Oh, hey, Yn.” It occurred to him just how creepy he was probably being just then…just watching you. But the thoughts in his brain were flying around like mosquitoes around his head—had he been hearing things?

“What’d you think of the reading?” You asked him pleasantly.

The reading from the past week had been the first third of a novel called The Stranger, a version translated from its original written in French. Sunwoo sucked in a breath, grimacing, “It’s not my favorite,” he drawled. “I have no idea what the point of his character is, to be honest.”

You pursed your lips and nodded your head. “Yeah, he’s a little… flat,” you chuckled.

“Is this supposed to tie into the theory that professor was talking about last week?” He asked then, in an effort to actively shift his brain’s focus away from your awfully familiar voice and sayings, and to the present.

“Something about how he doesn’t fit societal standards. I think it’s existentialism and nihilism. Well, at least I think it is.”

Huh. Interesting. Sunwoo gave a little bob of his head, and this was just when the TA turned everyone’s attention to a class discussion about the novel. He definitely hadn’t thought of those terms specifically when reading, but at the same time, he did understand where you were getting that sentiment from. He just couldn’t articulate his view of literature quite as well as you could. That had made you somewhat intimidating to him in the beginning, besides your very cute smile, but he was hoping he could learn something from you nonetheless.

You weren’t even a literature major, he realized as he listened to you offer your thoughts to the group. It was cool, though—you were cool.

— ✶

The Songbird Station was a podcast, radio-esque show that Sunwoo had discovered over summer break, a few weeks ago. The podcast was hosted by an anonymous host who dubbed herself “DJ Dove.” She definitely didn’t mind talking about a few of her personal life experiences; it was easy to simply bar the names and identities. Sunwoo had binged all two seasons so far of the podcast, happily tuning in as a silent listener and admirer of hers for awhile, and he had always wondered where she went to school or who she was, but it hadn’t invaded his thoughts like this before.

Sunwoo laid in his bed the day after the literature discussion, his hands resting on his stomach and his expression turned up toward the violet-red LED-lit ceiling of his room. His phone sat on the edge of his nightstand as it played a playlist of songs that Dove had recommended to her listeners—or well, he wondered if he could safely assume that what he heard yesterday was correct, and that you were DJ Dove.

It would make sense, he thought. You were a sound and music production major, had great taste in music (from the brief conversations you struck up with him while in class), and you literally said the exact same thing that Dove had said over the podcast. It couldn’t have just been a coincidence. And now that he thought about it, your voice really did sound a lot like DJ Dove’s. There was a sort of friendly warmth to both of your voices, and—and—

Knock, knock— “Aye, Sunwoo! I'm going to Juyeon's place now. Are you sure you don't wanna come with?"

Oh, right. He had nearly forgotten that Eric had planned to head over to their new mutual friend's apartment tonight to watch a sports game. Juyeon was a friend of a friend of a friend—the connections ran long in their friend circle, he supposed. Sunwoo stole a peak at his phone screen for the time and his joints ached at the sight of 8:53 on the face. His face screwed up as he replied to his friend and roommate, “Nah, I think I'm still just gonna chill here tonight.”

He grabbed his phone fully off the nightstand this time and turned onto his side.

“Oh, okay. Don't burn the apartment down and don't steal my ramen!”

Sunwoo squished his face down into his pillow, raising his voice slightly since his words would probably be muffled, "I'm not going to steal your ramen!" This guy.

He heard Eric grumble something under his breath from the other side of the door, followed by the sound of footsteps moving farther away from his room. When he heard the front door close, he let out a breath and turned back to his phone. To his surprise, he had managed to absentmindedly navigate away from the playlist screen and to the Songbird Station homepage, filled with a collection of all of your links. One of these links was for listeners to submit song recommendations or ask questions, and most of the time, they were all anonymous with their own little nicknames.

He had never fully considered doing it… but that didn’t mean he hadn’t ever partially thought about it. He definitely imagined becoming one of Dove’s more frequent anonymous submitters and becoming friends with her—on a level that one could consider oneself friends between two anonymous users, at least.

But up until now, he hadn’t thought that he could do it. Well, because Dove was Dove; he was one of hundreds of listeners.

“But she’s Yn,” he thought aloud to himself, turning back onto his back to speak to the ceiling, as if the layer of plaster above his head could possibly give him a viable answer. “There’s probably a reason she doesn’t use her actual name,” he pondered further, expression contorted into deep contemplation. “This feels wrong!” He groaned.

There was at least one person he could count on to deal with his bullshit.

sunwoo’s phone: yes or no

tree rat: no

“Well, screw you, too,” Sunwoo huffed as he swiped out of his and Changmin’s text chain. Out of all the times Changmin said “no” randomly, it had to be this time.

It didn’t matter much anyway though. Sunwoo went back to the links page and clicked on the anonymous submissions. He was met with a customized greeting page from the hostess herself, as she thanked her listeners and asked what they’d like to contribute to the show.

Sunwoo moved to sit up against his headboard as he racked his brain for something to say. He had tons to say, but the first message had to be perfect, right?

“It’s fine,” he said out loud, thumbs flying over the keyboard to type out the first thing that came to mind. After all, it was completely anonymous, so it wasn’t like she would—or you would—even know it was him.

He probably read over his little paragraph about a hundred times before attempting to figure out an anonymous name to sign off with. He hugged his knee to his chest when he couldn’t come up with something cool, charming, or unique. Maybe he would stay completely unknown for now. Maybe he wouldn’t even have the courage to submit another message after this one anyway!—

"Rhapsody," he said aloud. Rhapsody was a cool word. Rhapsody anon? Was that who he would sign as?

He did the most logical course of action: look up the word. He asked the internet for its most basic definition, then somehow ended up in the rabbit hole of etymology of the word rhapsody. It described one who stitched verses or songs together—something of the sort. It sounded cool, at least.

It would have to do… and even if you—or DJ Dove—thought it was stupid, no one would know it was him.

Before he could psych himself out of it, Sunwoo pushed the submit button and launched his phone away from him onto the bed like it was explosive. There was something thrilling about anonymous submissions, but incredibly anxiety-inducing, as well. He could only hope that you would be pleased to read it.

— ✶

It was Wednesday when the next episode of the podcast dropped, and Sunwoo was swift to don his headphones on his way out the door of the apartment. The walk to campus was a good fifteen or so minutes, which would get him about a quarter of the way through the episode, but usually the line in the campus cafe was long, so he had plenty of time to listen.

“Welcome to Songbird Station! I’m your host, DJ Dove, and today, I went to my Groupon singing lesson and realized that I think my teacher is having an affair with her neighbor…?”

Sunwoo let out a snortish laugh, covering his mouth with his hoodie sleeve in slight embarrassment as he passed by somebody else going in the opposite direction. Usually, there would be anonymous submissions sprinkled throughout the episode, most of them having to be diverted to later episodes because they were song recommendations. Sunwoo wasn’t super optimistic about his chances of being featured in this episode, but a guy could dream, couldn’t he?

The sky was a pleasant shade of crystalline blue, even as the seasons shifted from summer to fall. There was a slight breeze wafting through the air that brought in the telltale autumnal chill.

"...and luckily the rest was history. My voice was completely dead and my throat is still a little sore, haha, so we'll do a couple more anonymous submissions and recommendations today! This is supposedly a radio show-esque podcast, after all. This one's from a new friend—Rhapsody Anon!"

Sunwoo nearly tripped over the flat sidewalk and sent a nervous smile to the other person waiting at the stoplight with him. Did you just say what he thought you said?

There came a soft laugh from you. "Ooh, like Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen? Such a classic, by the way. Rhapsody says: Hi Dove! Hoping you're doing alright and that songwriting is going well. I'm a relatively new listener but a fan from first listen—awh, wait… that's kind of like love at first sight but for the voice version, isn't it?"

He reddened. The crosswalk turned green.

"Anyways, that's really sweet; thanks so much—there's a bit more of the message that I'll post on my story later so we can save time, but Rhapsody, thank you for tuning in and interacting with me. Your message sounded so heartfelt to me? I dunno," you chuckled and he swore he could hear the smile in your voice, "maybe I'm a little biased 'cause I love your song rec, too. Speaking of which, Rhapsody recommends Painkiller by Ruel! An immaculate choice, if I do say so myself…"

Sunwoo couldn't help but smile to himself at your warm reception of his anonymous submission. He wished he could have gotten your full reaction to his entire message, but he understood that you needed to account for all the other things you had planned.

Even so, an acknowledgement from you would have been enough. He hadn't thought it was possible, but he thought he just became even more attached to this DJ Dove persona.

EPISODE TWO: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY.

three months later.

THE curtains in Sunwoo's room were yanked open, the sound of metal rings against the metal bar scratched at his eardrums and made him grimace. It definitely did not help the pounding in his cranium, and—wait, was he in jeans? There was a disgusting after taste in his mouth, something akin to alcohol, and when he lifted his hand to rub his eyes, he felt dried tear tracks on his skin.

Eric stood at the foot of his bed with a scowl and his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm mad at you."

Sunwoo smooshed his face into his pillow in a sorry attempt to hide his eyes from the blinding overcast sky outside. "What's new?" He babbled incoherently.

It seemed his friend and roommate was not pleased with his answer and moved to tower over Sunwoo right beside him. "You couldn't have waited ten minutes before barging in? I was so close to kissing her!"

"Huh? What the hell are you…" Sunwoo's voice trailed off as the events of last night were slowly coming back to him.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. Ugh. He remembered making plans to go to some singles party with Changmin and Chanhee, and that Eric was bringing EC!Yn over to woo her or something… yeah, he got all that. So why did Sunwoo drink so much and why couldn't he…

The notification… the tweet…

Oh no.

The emotions from last night came rushing back to him like the tide to shore. Horror contorted his face as his brain raced to string pieces of last night together. He released a groan as he brought both hands up to his face. "Oh my god," he muttered into his palms.

The distinct feeling of devastation and disappointment sank into his gut. No wonder he had thrown all caution to the wind last night and gotten himself drunk off his face.

"How bad?" He asked.

Eric still had his arms crossed. "You cried on EC!Yn like a whale and asked why women were perfect and why you couldn't have this one girl." By the drone of Eric's voice, he hadn't been pleased or amused by last night's events. Whoops.

"I'm—"

"You are going to be forever alone, by the way."

Sunwoo dropped his hands from his face and leveled a scowl up at Eric. Now, that he remembered saying, too. Unfortunately. "Hey! I'm still tender from last night."

Eric's smile was sarcastic and he said nothing as he made his exit from Sunwoo's room and left the hungover man to fend for himself. Left to his own devices, Sunwoo pushed out a harsh exhale as he stared up at the ceiling.

He remembered receiving the notification from the Songbird Station Twitter account and excusing himself to go to the bathroom to hear your voice memo. And when he'd finally found an empty bathroom and played it back, he learned a devastating piece of information.

Guys, I went on a date… updates in the next episode. That was what you had said, essentially—you, Yn Ln, the girl Sunwoo had met in his literature course last quarter and whom he had figured out was the anonymous host of the podcast Songbird Station under the pseudonym DJ Dove.

And he had gotten drunk over the fact that you'd gone out on a date, and said date hadn't been him.

"Dude," he said out loud to himself.

He couldn't believe he had gotten so off his rocker by this news. It wasn't like he knew you or liked you or—well, maybe he had grown an affection for you over the span of time he listened to your podcast and interacted with you via his own pseudonym, Rhapsody Anonymous.

But he was just another fan to you, and you would never know his identity.

A guy could dream though, right?

A thought suddenly occurred to him as he rolled over to go through the copious amounts of notifications on his phone he had. There were lots of messages in his group chat with Chanhee and Changmin that he would deal with later, lots of social media notifications, emails, and…

Wednesday. Today was Wednesday.

Sunwoo cursed. You were definitely uploading the episode today then.

He bit his lip as he sorted through the notifications to find one about the podcast. Sure enough, there it was: I Went On A Date? was the title, and he pretended like that didn't make him want to play Lany's Valentine's Day on loop—

The bedroom door opened and Eric poked his head into the room. "I made hangover soup."

Sunwoo blinked in surprise. "Oh. Thanks, man."

"Yeah, don't mention it," Eric mumbled, shifting on his feet. "Seriously, don't mention it."

— ✶

For the next couple of days, Sunwoo left the notification at the top of his phone, pretending like it wasn’t there. It had worked for about five minutes, but the remainder of time he was stubborn, he allowed his imagination to get the better of him. Although he no longer needed to take a literature course, he found himself deeply considering the vague title you had provided. Well, what could you mean by that question mark at the end? Had it not gone well? There was no way it could have, since your tone didn’t really scream “OH MY GOD I WENT ON A DATE!!!” (not that Sunwoo had imagined what he would have acted like post-date with someone like you or anything…). He didn’t even know who you had gone on a date with, and that made his stomach churn.

The curiosity devoured him alive over the two days he managed to torture himself with his overthinking. No one knew he listened to the Songbird Station podcast, and he planned to keep it that way. It would be the absolute death of him if any of his friends found out.

By Saturday morning, Sunwoo had had enough of his own stubbornness and caved. He donned his headphones, grabbed his bag, and headed out the door to do some work in a cafe located on the Ave. There was one that his friend Jacob had recommended to the group awhile back, and Sunwoo hadn’t looked back since.

As he tuned into the episode, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, shivering against the cold, winter winds. February weather was a doozy, and a hot cup of coffee or hot chocolate sounded so very sexy right this moment.

“Welcome to Songbird Station! I’m your host, DJ Dove, and you’re probably wondering what the title of this episode even means, or why I sent that weird, cryptic voice message the other night.”

The traffic light turned green, and Sunwoo began to cross the road, the coffee shop in sight. His hands were beginning to get clammy in his pockets.

“Don’t riot, but friends, it means exactly what it says—” As you exhaled out a breathy kind of laugh, Sunwoo inhaled sharply.

“Helpful,” he muttered under his breath as he pushed into the warmth of the coffee shop. He shook the cold out of his body before hopping into the line to order.

“ —I did actually land myself a date yesterday. Honestly, I’m not really much of a dater; I never really had time with it over the past years because I would, uh… well, I would rather stay in and do music, y’know?”

The corners of Sunwoo’s lips curled up into a smile. Maybe he had been nervous before about this episode’s topic of choice, but he should have had more faith in you. Rather than speak about the date the entire episode, you always managed to worm in a discussion about your passions, and that was the kind of talk that had first gotten Sunwoo hooked. There was something so attractive about hearing or witnessing a person gush about their passions and ambitions—the way their eyes lit up, their posture righted itself, how they smiled so big that one could hear it in their tone of voice.

He was happy that you went out on a date, because you deserved to meet someone who treated you as special as you were. You were a good person, and it wasn’t fair that he was being so salty about it, especially when he was too chicken to—

“Sunwoo?”

His soul practically fell out of his body. “Shit—” He swore, yanking his headphones down with eyes as wide as the earphones. He whirled around to greet you with a flushed face, red like the old Christmas decorations still hanging up from the crown moldings.

You were standing right behind him with a mildly amused look on your face, your lips pressed into a smile and eyes crinkled in absolute delight. You were similarly bundled up like he was to no doubt shield you from the cold on your way here. “Sorry I scared you! I probably should have, like, tapped your shoulder or something, huh?”

Sunwoo let out a nervous laugh and cupped the back of his neck, the skin there warm to the touch. “Oh, uh, no problem at all. I just kinda…”

“Get scared easy?” You offered.

He huffed with a sheepish sort of smile. “No, no that’s not it. I—I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.” Inwardly, he winced. The fact that he was listening to your voice in his ears, and you just happened to say his name at the same time and appear in the same exact coffee shop as him. Weren’t there fifteen of these places on the block? There was no way you just happened to choose this one at this moment.

You chuckled, playing along. “Ah, I see, I see. We haven’t seen each other since fall quarter though. How have you been?”

You and Sunwoo inched up with the line, so the two of you now stood side by side. Sunwoo was trying everything he could to calm the racing of his heart. Play it cool, dude. “I’ve been okay…ish,” he grimaced, re-thinking his answer. “You know winter quarter is always the worst.”

“For sure,” you replied. “It’s so cold and dreary—nobody wants to leave their apartments, especially me,” you joked.

Sunwoo was about to chime in on how he could totally relate to that, when you popped the question: “And then there’s Valentine’s Day. Crazy how it never seems to rain on Valentine’s Day, though, so people can go out. Did you do anything for it?”

Sirens commenced their screeching in his head. WEE-WOO-WEE-WOO! Don’t let her know how much of a loser you were! He coughed, reaching up to scratch his head. “Uh, nothing special in particular, if that’s what you mean. A couple of my friends and I just went to this singles party.” Would that give you the wrong idea? Probably not, right? Why was he so bad at this, he thought, wasn’t he supposed to be a communications major?

You inched up in line. “Oh, that’s cool. I think I went to one in freshman year at my old uni,” you said.

Before he could stop himself, he said, “I almost forgot you transferred this year.” He knew that one from the podcast when you talked about the struggles of being a transfer student and having to almost “redo” your entire first year experience, social-wise. But you had also told him that when you and he had worked together in your shared class last quarter; it was just that the two of you didn’t really talk much about your old university much after that.

“It’s okay,” you smiled, nudging his arm with yours as a gesture for him to order first. “Not many people remember.”

Sunwoo wanted to protest, maybe to reassure you that it wasn’t that easy to forget something like that, but he was forced to switch gears and order his hot beverage first before he could say anything else to you. After he said goodbye to five more dollars, he stepped aside and made his way over to the pick-up counter to wait for you and his drink.

When you were done, you sidled up beside him, hands tucked into the folds of your coat.

Come on, say something, his inner voice chided. “So, uh, how was your Valentine’s Day?”

He immediately regretted it. Out of everything he could have asked, he had to go with the one topic he really didn’t want to hear about. However, it had been one of the logical progressions of the conversation, and who knew? Perhaps it wouldn’t lead to him feeling like he’d been shot down with lightning? (Was he being a little dramatic? Yes. Did it matter? Not when no one was going to hear him, no.)

You let out a small laugh and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “It was okay,” you replied.

It was… it was okay? What was he supposed to do with that answer—

“I mean,” you continued with a smile that looked more like a grimace, “it was—fine! It was fine. Uhm…”

Sunwoo’s thoughts came to a slow, teetering stop. Worry began seeping into the cracks of his brain as new scenarios formed. “Hey, if you’re uncomfortable talking about it, then we don’t have to talk about it.” All of the nerves and envy from before was becoming something softer in concern for your response.

“No! No, it’s okay. I promise,” you reassured him. The look you gave him was earnest, and he felt the fist tucked into his pocket gradually relax a bit. “It’s just weird putting it into words, y’know? I kind of chickened out of talking to my friends about it, and even to—” You stopped yourself short, and he could see you backpedaling in your brain. “Anyways, it just felt weird? I think it would have been a really nice night if I actually saw him in that light. But at the same time, I kind of want to try and give it a chance. Does that make sense?”

He nodded, tension falling out of his shoulders. “It does. I mean, sometimes there’s just no spark, y’know?” He added. “I was just worried he did something to make you uncomfortable or something.”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. You don’t have to worry.”

“Okay, that’s good,” he murmured, licking his lips. “I’m just curious—” he piped up, “—and you don’t have to tell me, but who did you go out with?”

One of the baristas from behind the counter called your names, and the two of you both stepped forward. Sunwoo took a long stride to get there before you, and handed you your cup for you.

You murmured a “thanks” to him first before stirring in a packet of sugar. “Liu Yangyang. Do you know him?”

Did he? Yangyang was one of the people Sunwoo recognized from not only around campus, but as a person who made music online, too. Even if Yangyang was in the same year as him, Sunwoo always admired the man’s flow and way with words. It made so much sense that Yangyang would pursue you, someone equally talented and charismatic, especially if the two of you were the same major.

A tightening sensation creeped into Sunwoo’s chest as he marinated on the revelation further. If you couldn’t see someone like Yangyang in a romantic light, then where did that put himself?

As Sunwoo let his intrusive thoughts get the best of him, you finished preparing your coffee.

“I’ve gotta run now,” you told him with a soft-cornered grin. “It was nice seeing you, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo managed a smile back at you, head bobbing in some semblance of a nod, before you were exiting the shop. He stood there for a moment to gather his wits, his thoughts, and his dignity.

“Did that really just happen?” He muttered to himself. He took his coffee with him to find an empty table and retrieved his study materials from his bag. Technically, he didn’t even have to listen to the rest of the podcast, but… who was he kidding?

EPISODE THREE: HEART TO HEART

“YOU’RE coming with me to the practice rooms, right?” Ji Changmin trailed behind Sunwoo as the two of them shouldered into Sunwoo and Eric's shared apartment with their bags and leftovers from today's lunch. It had been about a week and a half since he had bumped into you at that café and he had been feeling over the interaction since.

Sunwoo popped open the refrigerator while his friend perched on one of the breakfast bar stools, his duffle bag dumped at his feet. "Uh, yeah. 'Course, hyung," he said, shifting some groceries from JC!Yn around to make space for his white plastic container.

A thought occurred to him, and he groaned. "But you're gonna have to go first—without me," he clarified. He grabbed the carton of orange juice out to pour himself a glass, facing his friend's curious look.

Changmin's brows furrowed. "Wait, why not?"

It was a reasonable question, as it went against Sunwoo's normal pattern of behavior. Usually, Sunwoo would tag along with Changmin to the practice rooms at the back of the performing arts building. Changmin was a dance major, and with the highly anticipated winter dance showcase just around the corner, it was important that he got that practice in. Plus, with Eric out of town for an away game, Sunwoo was left alone in the apartment, which wasn't exactly his favorite thing. He would much rather go out and be around other people… unless there was something else occupying him.

Today, that certain occupation came in the form of your first live podcast session, something you were trying out. It was just going to be a live audio stream, so you could stay anonymous with your pseudonym, and answer people's submissions live. You had been advertising it for the past week, having excluded the weekly podcast in order to prepare for today.

Sunwoo was excited as you were and wanted to support you and be one of the people tuning in live. This was important to him, and he had even gone so far as to plan out his day.

"I just have something I need to turn in before the day ends," he said easily, shoulders lifting in a half-hearted shrug. He lifted the glass of orange juice to his mouth for a languid gulp.

Changmin made a teasing noise of disappointment. "Aye, you know if Chanhee were here he'd be on your ass, right?" He chuckled, the dimple of his smile pressing into his cheek.

Sunwoo pouted when he lowered the glass. "If Chanhee or JC!Yn were here, I wouldn't have admitted to procrastination. I have self-preservation skills."

"And you don't think I'd be on your ass?" Changmin gasped dramatically with a hand pressed to his chest.

With tongue in cheek, Sunwoo grinned amusedly. He shook his head, adjusting the hood pulled over him. "Hyung, you can't ding me for procrastination when you procrastinate religiously. Remember that one time you had to beg Professor Ka—"

"Yah! Nobody asked for specifics!"

Sunwoo's chuckle turned into nervous laughter as Changmin reached across the island with a claw-shaped hand. "Ah! No! You stay away—go practice!"

Changmin snickered. "Chicken."

Soon after, Changmin indeed took his leave to head over to the performing arts hall. Sunwoo drained the juice in his cup and refilled it before making a beeline for his bedroom.

The livestream was projected to last for an hour, about the length of a usual episode, but you did say the timing wasn't set in stone. Sunwoo set himself up at his desk, signing into the platform you always used. Over the past couple of months he was Rhapsody, he'd become one of your regulars, suggesting new and old songs from his music library, talking about his day or week or something the last podcast had reminded him of. He liked to think that the two of you were friends—parasocially.

A guy could dream, right?

He was on his phone when the waiting room faded and became a split screen: one half with a sketched sign that read "ON AIR: COMING TO YOU LIVE!" with a little dove in headphones, and the other half was a live chat feed that people who were tuned in could use. There was both a public and private feature, and Sunwoo kept his on the public chat, unafraid of what a bunch of other people behind anonymous names and screens could do to scare him.

"Oh! Woah, I think that worked," came your voice, loud and clear, through his laptop speakers.

He smiled to himself, reaching over to settle his fingers on his keyboard. A tingling feeling bubbled up inside him, starting from his toes and rocketing up through his chest. He could actually talk to you in real time today.

You clapped lightly on the other side, relief pouring through your voice. "Thank god. I'm supposed to be good with some computer programs, but this livestream feature is kind of new. How're we doing, everyone? It seems…" A couple clicks from your end, "... We've got some more people rolling in. I'll give it a couple minutes, but let me know who we've got here today! It's so cool seeing you guys live!"

Sunwoo was swift to type out a greeting message: Dovey hi!! He paired it with a little, hand-waving emoji.

The small gasp of delight from you had him giggling to himself. "Oh my god, Rhapsody! Hi, best friend, welcome in! We might actually be able to hold a conversation for once," you chuckled.

rhapsody anonymous: yeah fs haha

rhapsody anonymous: did u have a good week? it felt weird without an ep from u 🤧

"Oh! Yeah, haha, sorry about that—”

He rushed to type as you continued with answering his question: No no! Don’t worry, I don’t blame you or anything lol it’s just something I look forward to every week.

“...Ah,” you said after skimming over his message. “Understood—and aw, I’m glad it’s something you look forward to every week. That makes me really happy to hear… oh! It looks like the numbers are becoming a little stagnant, so I’m gonna get started. Hi, everyone! Welcome to the live edition of Songbird Station. I’m your host…”

— ✶

An hour later, Sunwoo ended up seated at the kitchen counter, drinking orange juice straight out of the nearly-depleted carton, while the livestream continued on. The whole experience had been one of a kind, and by the way you were able to seamlessly speak and engage with your audience for the entire time made Sunwoo feel warm and fuzzy. He was glad this was working out for you.

There was a gradual lull in conversation, however, and you were just wrapping up your last topic to bring your first livestream to an organic stop.

“...wanna thank you all for being here, of course. 57 people listening to my voice for over an hour is kind of crazy, but this was a lot of fun!...”

Sunwoo was just about to start typing up a message to you when his phone buzzed on the counter beside his laptop. He startled, fumbling with the device and grumbling under his breath until he saw who it was and picked up the call.

“Hyung?” He squeezed the phone between his ear and shoulder, attempting to finish his private message to you. I was wondering if I could…|

Changmin’s voice came out breathy and panting like he had just finished a run-through. “Hey, are you done with your assignment yet?”

I was wondering if I could hang back for…| “Huh?” Why couldn’t he multitask, for god’s sake? I was wondering if I could hang back for a minute? If it’s weird though, then it’s no problem…|

No, that wasn’t weird, right? Totally not. He pressed the 'enter' key, satisfied with the message.

“What were you saying?” Sunwoo asked and picked up the phone with his hand. His eyes flickered back to his laptop screen to find that you had sent him a private message back.

Changmin let out a grumbling sigh. “I was just thinking—”

“Uh oh,” Sunwoo joked.

He could hear his friend’s eye roll from here. “When you get here Kim Sunwoo…”

“Okay, okay, okay!” He chuckled as he read your message and silently punched the air in celebration. “What do you want? I was in the middle of something.”

“Rude! And I was calling you because I was thinking about you,” Changmin huffed. “Anyway, I was just going over some of the movement for Juyeon and my ‘Light a Flame’ duet, right? And I came up with this combo that would be perfect for three people—”

Sunwoo sucked in a breath. “Oh, nonono!”

“But!”

“No!” Sunwoo protested. “Hyung, you know that I don’t… y’know, I can’t dance up there with you and Juyeon hyung! That’s way too much pressure; you’re both so good at dance.” He pressed his finger against the edge of the counter and began mindlessly dragging it along the surface. There had originally been plans of Sunwoo joining Changmin and Juyeon’s dance partnership for this year’s winter showcase performance, but Sunwoo backed out. The winter showcase was far too large of an event for Sunwoo could even fathom participating in, let alone dancing with two of the best dancers he knew. There was just no way.

Changmin sighed from the other end. He’d heard this argument before and he’d argued against this argument plenty of times. “Okay, fine. See you in how long?”

Sunwoo placed his phone onto the counter again so he could tell you that he was still here and hadn’t just left you hanging. “Uh, give me like, thirty minutes.”

“Alright. I better see your ass here in thirty minutes, Sunwoo.”

“Yeah, I know. See ya, hyung.” He hung up then, shoulders sagging slightly from the conversation. It wasn’t like he had to participate in the winter showcase—he was no dance major, nor was he a dance minor. He technically hadn’t even decided on a minor, and had only been focusing on getting this degree finished. Whether or not he had chosen a minor yet was not his parents’ favorite discussion when they visited him, but… it would get done when he had the energy to. He didn’t want to bring up the idea of a dance minor—he saw what it did to Changmin and his parents’ relationship and—well, it was just better this way, for now.

Having finished with his phone call, Sunwoo returned his focus to you, where, god bless, you were still waiting for him in the livestream room.

rhapsody anonymous: omg i’m SO sorry!! >< a friend of mine just called and turns out i am awful at multitasking

“No worries,” you laughed. “I figured that was the case. Everything okay, Rhaps?”

The corners of his mouth curled up at the thoughtful ask. Even when the two of you had been classmates, you were new to the school, but still made him feel like the two of you had known each other for longer than simply a few weeks. It only made sense that you were the host of this podcast, the very thing that had been his source of comfort as of late.

rhapsody anon: yeah nothing really serious lol

rhapsody anon: i just have this friend who’s doing the winter showcase and i was supposed to go to the practice room with him

rhapsody anon: actually, i was going to dance and perform w him too but ig i kind of chickened out

He didn’t know why he was telling you all of this; this wasn’t even what he originally intended to talk to you about.

He heard you make a soft sound of understanding. You shifted in your seat. “I see… the winter showcase is a big event though, as I’ve heard from peers and friends. It's probably really intimidating to even perform in the pre-show, you know? Are you a dance student, by chance?”

rhapsody anon: i’m not, but i’ve taken the intro to hiphop course my freshman year and i usually dance for fun w my friend

rhapsody anon: i think i’ve just always been kind of insecure in my abilities to keep up w him?

“Is he a dance major?”

rhapsody anon: he is

Sunwoo leaned back from the laptop and took his hands off the keyboard. He settled his chin onto his folded arms as he listened to your reply.

“Well, I don’t think you should compare yourself to a dance major, right, Rhaps? I mean, it’s not fair to expect more from yourself when he’s clearly had more experience. And if you enjoy dancing, then I don’t see what the harm in trying to perform or even just being satisfied with private practice sessions is!” You paused for a second to gather your thoughts. “What I’m saying is… is that, I can understand where you might feel insecure, and that’s normal, y’know? And if you’re feeling a little unprepared for this year, there’s always future opportunities.”

Sunwoo peered up at his screen as if he could see you on the other side, speaking to him. He sat up to type out a response. Thanks for hearing me out, it’s nice to feel validated. Sorry this kind of took a downer tone haha it wasn’t my intention, I swear!

You giggled and he swore he was smiling a little too wide now. “No worries, really! I’m glad I could be of help, even if it’s to make sure that you know your feelings are valid. If I’m being honest, one of the few reasons why I even started this podcast thing was to kind of just put my experiences out there in search of validity.” You sighed, “I dunno. It’s a story for another time. I am curious, though, as to why you originally wanted to hang out with me after the others left.”

Oh, right. Sunwoo bit his lip.

rhapsody anonymous: this isn’t really a song rec, but ig it kind of is… i feel like superstar by taylor swift reminds me of u

He held his breath after he pressed the ‘enter’ key.

“Oh…” your voice was soft in surprise, and it made something like giddiness spike in his chest. “That’s really sweet, Rhaps. I… I’m not sure what to say, but thank you. Genuinely.”

rhapsody anonymous: u don’t have to say anything!! really haha ur work and ur words have touched a lot of people

“Even you?”

rhapsody anonymous: esp me

And even after you and he had said goodbye to one another and logged off; even after he was well out of the apartment and on his way to campus, that giddy feeling in his chest still hadn’t left him.

EPISODE FOUR: SHOT THROUGH THE HEART! [AND WE’RE ALL IN PAIN]

DEAD week was not typically something Sunwoo had to worry about, as fortunate as that sounded. There were, obviously, classes that made his stomach queasy and made him feel like the world was crumbling into Hot Cheeto dust, but his classes this quarter had been merciful to say the least. The week before finals week was always something that could be visibly observed on campus: students either manifesting like zombies or zooming around to claim seats in the library; grades rising and falling like the housing market; and snacks and coffee being more commonly consumed than any other moment of the quarter.

It was always a hot pile of shit, no matter the student or major.

“Someone just needs to tell Ouyang to chill!”

“Uh-huh.”

“For sure.”

“—it’s not like we’re the root of all of his problems! I’m just trying to graduate!” Eric halted in the middle of the hallway, causing Sunwoo, whose face was nose-deep in his phone screen, to ram into the baseball player’s back.

“Ow!” He hissed, furiously rubbing the place at his forehead that had collided with the nape of Eric’s neck.

“You’re not paying attention,” said Eric, flatly. He turned to Jacob, who also wasn’t paying attention. “Hyung!”

Jacob’s head lifted from where he was busy smiling down at some orange cat video. “What? Nacho’s learning the periodic table—” He flipped his phone around to show Eric, his face immediately lighting up as he forgot about why he was even mad in the first place.

The three of them were currently in the front half of the performing arts building, heading inwards from the main hall to the backstage area where a couple of their friends were already hanging out. Sunwoo had bumped into Jacob and Eric on his way from one of the campus libraries, and with nothing else better to do (than to study), he tagged along to go find someone to bother. (Jacob and Eric were both STEM majors though, which was weird to Sunwoo since… well, shouldn’t they be bunkered up somewhere trying to survive this quarter’s dead week? Anyways…)

Sunwoo sighed and brushed past his two friends to venture deeper into the building. He could already hear somebody’s music blasting from the sound booth as they rehearsed onstage. Over the past several weeks, everyone had been busy preparing for the winter showcase happening at the end of finals week, right before spring break. Ever since Sunwoo’s talk with you over livestream, he had felt a little better about not joining Changmin and Juyeon on stage this year. Plus, from what he could tell when he watched them practice, they already looked pretty much perfect with just the two of them.

Though, there would always be a part of him that wished he really had the courage to go up there and show the audience what he was made of.

Sunwoo wandered into the main auditorium with his hands tucked into his pockets and the doors closing softly behind him. There was indeed a group practicing their number on the stage at the moment. He could even make out the shapes moving from behind the curtains in the wings as other tech members and dancers rushed to and fro to get to where they needed to. Somewhere in that mass of chaos were his friends.

A familiar voice had him lifting his head toward the sound booth. His eyes widened when he recognized you standing in the booth with Bang Chan, one of the more prominent sound and lighting directors working here at the performing arts center. However, it looked like you were leaving, your hands clumsily wrestling with the zipper on your bag while you continued your conversation with Chan, and while attempting to walk backwards out of the sound booth.

Oh my god, you were going to trip on something if he didn’t help—

Both Sunwoo and Chan pounced toward you as the thought occurred to both of them at the same time.

“Yn, careful!” Sunwoo yelled, as he dove for your phone.

Chan steadied you at the bicep, and you hugged your bag to your chest with a flustered grin. “Oops?”

Chan ruffled your hair as he let you go, nodding his hello to Sunwoo, then ducking back into the booth. You stepped out into the main room and shut the door behind you. “Thanks,” you said to him sheepishly, accepting your phone from him.

The two of you naturally fell into step with one another and Sunwoo let you lead him back out towards the main entrance again. “I didn’t know you worked behind the scenes here,” he told you, cupping the back of his head. If he racked his brain, he couldn’t recall hearing about it from your podcast either. “This is the second time I’ve seen you here,” he chuckled.

You stopped for a minute in the middle of the hallway to get a hold of your things. You had to hike your knee up to properly zip your backpack before hauling it over your shoulder. “Oh, that’s right! Just a couple days ago you were here with your friends, right?”

He gave a bashful sort of grin. He had been here a couple days ago when he came to bother Changmin, and ended up hanging out backstage while Hyunjae’s best friend hosted auditions for her play. It was then that he had seen you hustling about with the Lee Jihoon about lights. He’d been caught so off-guard by seeing you; it was a miracle he managed to even get Changmin to forget about that whole interaction. “Yeah, sorry I was kind of… weird. I didn’t expect you, that's all.”

“Lots of surprise run-ins with us, huh,” you teased, the side of your arm bumping with his as you walked.

Us.

“It’s nice to see you more often though.”

You nodded. “The feeling’s mutual, Sunwoo. Thanks for warning me earlier; I’m usually more careful with my stuff, especially when I’ve got special cargo.” As you said this, you reached back to pat your backpack affectionately.

Sunwoo lifted a brow, opening the door for you as the two of you stepped out into the lobby. “Oh? What kind of special cargo?”

The smile on your face widened. “It’s, uhm, a recording mic, actually! I’ve been coming by to intern around the tech side of things here, and Chan and Jihoon give me some tips about music production, too.” You trailed off, an idea taking hold in your head, and that wide beam from just seconds ago became this shy, little thing. “Hey… would you maybe be up to listening to something of mine? I mean, it’s kind of a weird request, but your music taste from first quarter was top notch—”

“Yes,” Sunwoo said, without even waiting for you to finish your rambling.

You paused, and he rejoiced in the pure delight on your face. “Really? That’s—this is great. Wait, I’m so excited! We’ll need to find a private place to listen, but—”

“Oh my gosh, Yn?”

Coming in from the front lobby doors was none other than Han Jisung, a fellow second-year whom Sunwoo was familiar with. He was bundled in a massive, puffy cream jacket with his head shoved into a beanie, and his nose was reddened from the cold. Jisung tucked the earbuds in his ears away into their case, waddling over to you both with the joy of a baby penguin. “And Sunwoo! Woah, it’s so cool to see you, man. What’s up?”

Sunwoo clasped his hand in his. “S’cool to see you, too, dude. Yn and I were just on our way out.”

Jisung moved over to you and pulled you in for an affectionate side hug. “Oh, well, that’s nice to hear,” he snickered, wagging his eyebrows at you while you sent him a pointed look.

Wonder what that was all about…

“Anyways,” continued Jisung, “I just came by to bother Channie-hyung. Is he in the box?”

You bobbed your head in affirmation. “Yup. There isn’t anyone else with him right now, so I’m sure there’ll be plenty of space for you to bug him.”

“Nice,” he grinned. As he walked away in the direction from which you and Sunwoo came, he sent a wave. “See you both around!”

“Bye!” Both you and Sunwoo called back before resuming your walk out the front entrance.

“So how do you—” The two of you laughed when you both started talking at the same time, saying the same thing. Sunwoo gestured toward you, insisting that you ask the question first. You did: “So how do you know Jisung?”

Sunwoo snorted at the memory. “I, uh, saw him in the hall once and smacked his ass, then asked for his number.”

You had to stop to double over in laughter, clutching your stomach while Sunwoo looked on in flustered amusement. Your face had heated up considerably, and you barely managed to follow him down the steps toward the bus stop. “You what?” You asked, once you could get out anything other than wheezes.

He chuckled, shrugging. “Okay, well, I actually know him from this music summer camp we both went to in high school. I didn’t realize he came to this uni until I saw him last year and… well, made my presence known to him.”

You clapped your hands together and collapsed onto the bus bench. “I was gonna say—that’s one hell of a hello.”

“It’s a true story,” he insisted.

“Oh, I believe you.”

The two of you shared a laugh for a moment and Sunwoo took a seat beside you, his knee bouncing up and down as you waited for the bus to come by. He nudged your shoulder with his. “So what about you then? How do you know Han?”

“Hm? Ah, I just know him ‘cause we share the same major-ish. I’m sound and music production, and he’s just a general music major,” you explained. “We also share a composition class, as well as a writing course. Did you know the guy is a fantastic poet?”

Sunwoo’s eyebrows arched upward. “I would not be surprised; the guy’s an ace.”

“Totally agree.” You fidgeted with your phone between your hands. “He was also one of my first friends here after I transferred. He’s kind of shy, but he’s one of the good eggs you can meet.”

A nod. He glanced over at you, his eyes breathing in the far away look on your face. “Yeah, he is. But hey, at least you got to befriend him then, hm? Maybe some things are just meant to be.”

You met his gaze and Sunwoo felt his heart stutter into a gallop. “Yeah,” you murmured, “I think so, too.”

— ✶

You and Sunwoo ended up in one of the booths of the restaurants on the Avenue. It was a cozy, little hole in the wall with soup that tasted like home and made your belly feel warm and content. You had set up shop at your table, your laptop with the audio file pulled up and your wired earbuds plugged in. You had to power all of your will into not showing Sunwoo how nervous you were for him to listen to this—your fingers shook slightly even as you passed him both of your earbuds.

In an attempt to pass off as cool, calm and totally collected, you brought your glass of water to your mouth to sip on. You'd thought to order food first, then let Sunwoo listen to the file.

"Let me know if you can't hear anything," you blurted out just before he put the buds in.

He paused, then smiled. "I got it," he assured you warmly.

Once the buds were fitted and the song started playing, you could only wait and watch to gauge his reaction.

At first, his eyes widened a smidge. Then he slowly began nodding to the beat, eyes falling closed as he soaked in the electric guitar chords mixed in that Jisung helped you out with. You watched him lean back in his seat… saw the smile bloom on his face, wide like a flower opening its petals to greet the brilliant sun.

And that beautiful smile… oh, he was so pretty when he smiled.

It was a couple minutes later that his eyelids finally fluttered open, and yet that smile on his face remained ingrained there. He passed you your earbuds as you awaited the verdict. "Girl, you've got pipes," he said with emphasis, his face screwed up in an expression one could only describe as appreciative. "Like—oh my god, I want that bridge tattooed on my forehead," he groaned and leaned forward to bury his face in his palms.

Your heart could fly, soar, literally ascend to fucking space! You smiled, big and wide, as you wrapped up the wire chords around three fingers. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Liked it?" He perked up, then melted to the table as he mumbled into his hoodie sleeve, "I could kis…" You didn't catch the end bit of his sentence as his voice dissipated into the fabric of his shirt.

"What'd you say?"

When he lifted his head, his cheekbones had flushed a shade of rose gold. He cupped the back of his neck with a nervous laugh, "Nothing! It was nothing. I just—I just love it, Yn. Really, I mean it. I'm not just saying that because we're friends—"

"Ah, so we're friends?" You jested, even as your heart skipped like a pebble across the surface of a lake.

Sunwoo blinked, lips pursed. "We're not friends?"

"No, I'm only kidding!" You said and leaned your cheek against your fist. "Your reaction was cute though."

You swore something shuddered across his face, but you didn't have much time to analyze it when you felt a presence make himself clear at the head of the table.

Yangyang appeared in a warm-looking jacket and scarf, his eyes flickering curiously between you and Sunwoo. You suddenly felt an anxious spike in your chest at the thought of what this might have looked like to him. That was, until he saw the laptop, of course. You saw the relief in his shoulders, the ease in which he smiled now. "Hey Yn-ie, didn't know you'd be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo scratch his jawline, then scoot forward and offer his hand to Yangyang. "Hey, I'm Sunwoo. You're Yangyang, aren't you?"

Yangyang clasped Sunwoo's hand good naturedly with a typical gummy smile. "Yeah, that's me. It's nice to meet you."

"I was just showing him the project," you said next, drawing both of the boys' attention to you.

"Ah," your friend nodded. "How'd you like it, Sunwoo?"

Sunwoo lit up. "It was—incredible. I don't even know how to describe it, y'know? If it was on my Spotify, it'd probably be on my Wrapped."

There went your heart, goodness. You and Sunwoo locked eyes across the table, and you wished you could convey how much his words meant to you by just a look.

"Totally agree," Yangyang nodded. "My Yn-ie's got a gift and she knows how to use it." He gave your head a gentle pat, and heat rose to your cheeks from the bombardment of attention. It hit you subtly, an epiphany—

Yangyang cleared his throat then and returned his hand to his side. "Anyways, I'll leave you two to it. I'll talk to you later?" He asked you as he was already taking a step backward.

—the heat wasn't for him. It simply wasn't.

"Yeah! I'll shoot you a text later," you promised. You realized then that you had barely even spoken to Yangyang since your Valentine's Day date ended several weeks ago. There had just been a lot of mixed feelings churning around in your head that needed time to be sorted out. (And it was currently being resolved.) With a slight inward grimace, you turned your focus back to the guy you'd brought here in the first place.

Sunwoo slid your laptop over to your side of the table. "Soooo… you and Yangyang, huh?" He laughed, and you weren't certain, but it sounded a bit unsteady.

You played with the hem of your sweater sleeve. "I mean, kind of? Not really? We went on that date a while back, if you remember, but that's about it."

He leaned in. "Yeah, I remember."

"Yeah, and we also haven't had time to really properly talk since?" You winced. "I guess it's not really as bad as I make it sound. It's just that, we've pretty much known each other since primary school. He had just moved from Taiwan, and we were pretty good friends. And he would move back and forth between here and this one town in Germany, but we would always—" you made a vague gesture, "—find each other? Is that the word?"

You let out a breathy sort of laugh. "I'm sorry, I dunno why I'm telling you my history with this guy. It's stupid."

Sunwoo frowned and shook his head. "It's not stupid, Yn."

You inhaled, then chewed on your cheek. "It's just that I always feel like people don't really stick around, at least for me. But Yangyang… he's been one of the few constants in my life, and I'm really grateful for that."

"I'm sensing there's a 'but' with this."

You indulged him. "But I'm starting to think that maybe I can't really see him as that kind of constant, if that makes sense." Your brows furrowed in thought. The boat you were on rocked roughly with the waves, the water turbulent and unsteady, as if at any moment it could throw you off. But you were used to the rocking, and you weren't sure why you should be so used to it. Settling for Yangyang even though you were beginning to realize that he probably wasn't The One? That was like staying docked in a home port you'd grown used to when you yearned for the horizon.

You heard Sunwoo crack his knuckles, and perhaps there really was a certain sheen to his eyes then. "I don't want to put words in your mouth," he drawled carefully, "and I can't imagine how exactly you feel and I don't know your whole story. But it has to be hard when it feels like, I don't know, like people are moving on without you." The earnestness in his eyes made his dark brown eyes deeper and richer. "And maybe it's comfortable with Yangyang and you want to try with him because you know that you two will always somehow find each other again."

"You kind of put what I was thinking into coherent sentences there," you mused, the corners of your lips curling upward.

Sunwoo reflected your expression. "That's good to hear, because I was pretty sure I sounded arrogant."

You laughed then, shaking your head. "No, I appreciated that. And you got it right." Breathing a sigh, you saw a waiter coming by to drop off the food the two of you had ordered. "I think it's just taken me some time with myself and with—with other people to make me realize it."

He glanced up with thanks as the waiter passed you your meals, and you swore you saw his hand make a move to reach for yours across the table. But he stopped short, and instead, helped move your hot bowl of soup over to you. "You never know," he said sheepishly, "The One could be right under your nose."

— ✶

eric 🤨: dude where did u go??? cobie hyung and i looked up and u disappeared into thin air

eric 🤨: omg jisung said u went somewhere w a GIRL??? IS THIS THE GIRL U WERE GETTING ALL DRUNK AND SAD ABT 👀

sunwoo’s phone: YAH!!! OH MY GOD STFU

eric 🤨: no.

EPISODE FIVE: LOTS OF THINGS BLOOM IN SPRING

“SO her name is DJ Dove?”

Sunwoo made a face around his toothbrush as he spat the frothy white into the sink bowl. “For the millionth time, yes.” Through the mirror, Sunwoo watched Eric’s face as his roommate perched himself atop the kitchen counter and went quiet, his face pensive. After coming home to Eric’s confrontation, Sunwoo promised to explain it all in the morning to him.

It was unfortunately the morning, meaning Sunwoo had spent the past hour bringing Eric up to speed on his nonexistent love life. Fortunately, it was also a Wednesday morning, which meant you had just posted your newest episode of the podcast, and Sunwoo could force Eric to listen to it with him. A part of him was tense at the thought of no longer “gatekeeping” his little secret that he had kept for the past several months, but this was Eric, one of his best friends. Maybe this would lift a weight off of Sunwoo’s chest by finally telling someone.

“...I’m still in the thrall of dead week,” your voice blasted from the speaker of Sunwoo’s phone at high volume, “and it’s come to my attention that next quarter will probably be a lot for me. I guess this is me forewarning you all that I might be late with some episodes because I’ve got this new internship thing.”

Sunwoo dunked his face into the sink bowl as he splashed water over his lathered foam cleanser. “She’s talking about her internship at the performing arts center.”

“How do you—never mind, forget I asked.”

Sunwoo patted his face dry, then opened the medicine cabinet for all of the skincare products he used to start off the day.

“...It’s been awhile since I’ve recommended something myself, so today, do enjoy ‘gone too long’ by lullaboy with me.” The song began a few seconds after you queued it up, and the apartment was then filled with muted vocals and strings.

Sunwoo straightened. He and Eric went quiet for a while as they both let the song sink in. Sunwoo continued to slather sunscreen on his face and neck, and Eric had started up the stove to make a batch of ramen for the both of them.

A peculiar sensation draped itself over Sunwoo’s shoulders, a blanket of something that wasn’t quite calm and wasn’t quite jittery. He didn’t know how to pinpoint or label the weird tightness in his chest. The song was strangely intimate, as almost all the music Sunwoo listened to was, but when it came from another person, it was always a whole new level of intimate. Whenever someone recommended a song, it was a way to view a piece of them—perhaps not a large piece, but a piece nonetheless. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then music was the viewfinder.

Maybe he missed you. But that didn’t make sense—it… it couldn’t make sense. He saw you yesterday, and he was listening to you now. How could he miss you?

“She has good taste,” Eric murmured as the song faded out.

Sunwoo nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah. She does.”

“...Hopefully when you miss me you’ll play that song,” he heard you say in a lighthearted tone, even though he felt almost like the complete opposite. “On that note, Rhaps sent in a message asking about the dance showcase coming up! ‘Are you planning on going, and if so, any acts you’re looking forward to? Isn’t it crazy that we could be sitting next to each other and never even know?’ —”

Eric perked up, his head peering over his shoulder to look at Sunwoo as he came out of the bathroom to join Eric in the kitchen. “That’s you? Rhaps?”

“Rhapsody Anonymous,” Sunwoo corrected. “And don’t judge me!” He added with a pointed look, finger jabbing in Eric’s direction.

Eric shook his head with a giddy sort of grin. “I didn’t say anything.”

For a moment, the two boys went quiet with only your voice and the sounds of the stove keeping them company.

A thought occurred to Eric though, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Does it ever feel like lying?” He asked and gestured for Sunwoo to grab a couple of bowls from the cabinet.

Sunwoo walked over with the soup bowls, then leaned his hip against the counter next to Eric. “Does what feel like lying?”

“Hiding that you know it’s her.”

Well… Sunwoo idly scratched his jaw. “I guess I never thought about it like that,” he said. All this time, he’d figured it was probably better that he didn’t bring it up to you. After all, you used a pseudonym for a reason and didn’t show your face. Maybe this was just supposed to be your secret passion project that you used as a safe space. He didn’t want to burst your bubble by confronting you with that information. How would he even go about doing it? Oh hey, by the way, I’ve known that you’re this podcast host DJ Dove for a very long time? That probably had ‘awkward’ written all over it.

Eric passed him a pointed glance. “Something to think about then.”

— ✶

Finals week had come and gone, a hurricane of destruction in its own right. But when the storm passed, it gave way to the beautiful cherry blossoms blooming in the quad. As per university tradition, the quad was filled to the brim with students, staff, and tourists alike gathering to pose in the falling pink petals that marked the coming of Spring Break. This was no different for Sunwoo’s friend group who was dragged out to the event by none other than Choi Chanhee. In an effort to appease his friend in some aspect, Sunwoo had come dressed in something decently presentable: black cargo pants, blue denim jacket, and his face fitted in a pair of dark frames (that were definitely not just frames or missing the lenses…).

He shoved his hands into his pockets after taking a peak at the time on his watch. The group had been here for about ten minutes thus far, and half of them had already split off with their significant others to take their own rounds about the quad. They weren't the only ones—in fact, there were probably as many couples as there were people taking grad photos and cosplay photos.

And wait, someone had come in their wedding dress—nothing spelled out Sunwoo's singleness more potently than a couple getting married.

He took a panoramic glance and accidentally watched another couple go in for a kiss. He looked away with a slight frown, blowing a curl out of his eyes. "I hate this more than Valentine's Day," he grumbled.

From beside him, Kevin Moon sighed as he tested a shot with his camera and had to adjust the settings for the right exposure. "You're telling me." When he raised his camera up again, he immediately had to bring it back down with a deadpan expression, "At least on Valentine's Day, people won't photobomb you."

As the group's self-proclaimed Dad, Lee Sangyeon, summoned the attention of the boys who were present for a partial group photo. Sunwoo smiled for it, then returned to his frown. Chanhee had his camera held up as he attempted to take a selfie shot since he had been staking out this one tree trunk that a group of people had just left. Sunwoo had to admire the way Chanhee wordlessly swooped in like a vulture over a dead carcass.

"Aye, Kim Sunwoo," Chanhee exclaimed and beckoned Sunwoo over with a curl of his two fingers. Chanhee's head scanned the immediate area and his nose wrinkled when he realized he was missing someone. "Where did Changmin go? He was literally right… ah."

Chanhee's voice trailed off and a sly, little grin when he located the man in question. "Look."

Sunwoo followed Chanhee's gaze across the field to where he was sneaking up behind a familiar person. Sunwoo had met this girl twice, once when he and Changmin had gone looking for Jacob and the other when he went with Changmin to go see her for moral support. Both times, strangely, had been at the lab. Huh, did she even go home…?

But then Sunwoo observed the way Changmin and CM!Yn looked at each other. Though Sunwoo had seen Changmin's eyes light up before, this was a different sort of twinkle, something softer. There had always been a cloud hanging over Changmin when it came to this girl, always some kind of bittersweetness that held him back. It made a smile crawl onto his lips at the sight of Changmin so happy.

"Wah," Chanhee murmured in awe. "They really mended their relationship well, don't you think?"

Sunwoo pursed his lips with an indulgent nod. "Yeah, I'd think so."

His friend sighed. "Oh, well. Looks like it's just us two then."

Sunwoo stepped forward and took Chanhee's phone from him, swiftly changing it to the forward facing camera. Chanhee struck a few poses beneath the blush pink trees as he soaked in the golden hour sunlight streaking across the lawn. Eventually, Sunwoo turned the camera back around to take shots of both himself and Chanhee.

He adjusted the phone so that the selfie mode could capture both of them when he spotted Chanhee scuttling back over toward him with a pile of pink petals collected in his palms.

Sunwoo's eyes went wide and he leapt backward away from his grinning friend. "Hyung, come on, let's talk about this."

Chanhee cackled and inched forward still. His hair was the exact same color as the flowers cupped in his palms. "Sunwoo-ah," he sang, "I think your hair needs a bit of color."

"I just did my hair this morning!" He whined and pleaded desperately. The last thing he needed was to be plucking stray petals from his curls later tonight. When Chanhee still wouldn't quit, adrenaline began to pump through Sunwoo's veins in anticipation for what he needed to do next. "Chanhee hyung! We can be civil about this."

"Civility is overrated!"

Just as Chanhee pounced, Sunwoo swerved on the ball of his foot and made a mad dash toward the other side of the quad. Chanhee's giggles filled the late afternoon air like the twinkling of bells, and though it was probably an amusing sight for onlookers, Sunwoo was running for his life.

Sunwoo pumped his legs furiously as he weaved in between people standing and taking their pictures, screaming out apologies for photobombing them as he went. And when he nearly tripped over someone's dog, he managed to lock eyes with yours.

You. Oh my god, you were here.

He had little time to fully comprehend what he was about to do, but he made a beeline for you.

"Sunwoo, hey—oh!"

Sunwoo grabbed your shoulders and careened himself behind you, his face partially hidden behind yours. "I'm sorry, but—" he screeched, "—he's threatening to ruin my hair!"

Chanhee laughed as he stopped in front of you and Sunwoo. His pale cheeks were dusted with the color of the flowers in the air. "Ah, well, hello. This isn't very gentlemanly of you, Sunwoo. Who's this?" He threw Sunwoo a look over your shoulder.

Fuck. He hadn't thought this one through.

Sunwoo laughed sheepishly and let go of your shoulders to clasp the back of his neck. It was only then he realized you were wearing a delicate, pastel sundress with cherry blossoms littered in your own hair. A gentle breeze wafted by and through your skirt and brushed back a few strands of your hair too.

Pretty…

"This is," he stammered, snapping out of his daze, "Yn. Yn-ie, this is one of my close friends, Chanhee."

"It's nice to meet you," Chanhee said with a warm smile and slight bow of his head.

You gave a little wave. "Nice to meet you, too, despite the circumstances."

"I would wave back," Chanhee gestured with his hand of flowers, "but this is a nice pile, don't you think?"

To your credit, you played along. You laughed, "I totally agree. It definitely should not be wasted on giving me a wave. Though, I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities to get back at Sunwoo." You turned your head and cocked a brow at him, to which he smiled back boyishly.

Chanhee considered you again for a moment. "I like your style. I guess I'll just… leave you to it then," he drawled and sent Sunwoo very pointed glances with his eyes toward you. Something about the way Chanhee's eyes narrowed minutely made Sunwoo want to hide behind you again.

Chanhee whistled a merry tune as he went on his way, leaving you and Sunwoo to your own devices as he probably went to go find his next victim.

"I'm so sorry about that," Sunwoo lamented as soon as Chanhee was out of ear shot. "I did not mean to make you a human shield."

You chuckled. "It's okay, dude, really. Definitely didn't think I'd find anyone I knew in this mess, so it's nice seeing you out here."

Sunwoo gave you yet another once over and felt heat crawl up the column of his neck. "I—you look really pretty," he said, gesturing to your outfit.

"Oh, thank you," you chirped. "You clean up quite well yourself."

The two of you shared a smile then and for a second, Sunwoo's mouth went dry and no words leapt from his tongue. They all remained lodged in his throat where his heartbeat went pitter-patter.

He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact with you for a moment.

You made a vague nod toward one of the open benches lining the perimeter of the quad, an invitation. "Wanna come sit with me?"

"Do I?" Yes. The answer was yes.

When you and Sunwoo were seated side by side, centimeters separating your arms and legs from touching the other, his heart still had not settled. The adrenaline, in fact, also had her to dissipate. With wide eyes, he soaked everything in.

"Did you go to the winter showcase on Friday night?" He blurted, turning to you.

You met his gaze. "I did. It was such a cool experience, especially since it was my first time. Did you?"

He nodded, locking his lips. "I did, yeah," he murmured. "I had a couple friends performing, so we all went to cheer them on. It's always a really great time though; I'm glad you got to go."

"Oh, that's nice. I always find dancers so impressive," you said with a wistful gleam in your eyes. "Do you dance?"

He found himself fidgeting with Chanhee's phone that he still held onto in his lap. "A little," he admitted bashfully. "I took an intro to hip-hop class last year, and I sometimes dance with my friends. Just—not in public," he said.

For a second, something flickered across your face. But he must have been dreaming because it was gone as quickly as it came.

"So music and dance? You're a multi-talented threat, Sunwoo."

"Aw, not really," he giggled. He wanted to hide his burning face in the collar of his jacket, but there was something about you that also made him unafraid to show you this side of him. Actually, you made this side of him come out. He wasn't usually so terribly shy, always tumbling over his words and doing diction cartwheels… communications major, his ass. "What about you? You're literally a musical genius. You should be on my Spotify Wrapped, Yn."

This time, he could relish in making you flustered. "Aye, you can't say that and expect me not to wanna…" You lost your own words, biting your tongue.

He didn't know what got into him, but he leaned forward closer to you. "Expect you not to what?" He asked lowly, teasingly.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and he swore his own rapidly-beating organ was going to come flying out of his chest.

"Expect me not to—steal your glasses!" With a high-pitched squeal, you snatched the lensless frames from right off his nose.

Sunwoo gasped in scandal, diving to grab them back, but you had already stood up from the bench. "Yah! Those were expensive frames!"

Your face lit up as you donned them. "You'll have to take it off my face then!"

"Bet!" And he lurched after you as you took off into the setting sun.

Your voices echoed across the quad: "Jisuuuuuung! Jisung, save me!"

"Jisung can't save you when he's scared of me!"

EPISODE SIX: AND THE MUSES ARE OFF!

"IT'S not a date!"

"It's a date!"

"It's not a date!" Sunwoo stopped abruptly in the middle of his living room where he had been wearing a hole in the wood floors from pacing. He whirled on his sock-clad heels to face his sofa of judges, Changmin and Chanhee. Eric was out with his girlfriend watching the newest action movie that had come out over Spring Break. "She would say if it was a date, right?"

Chanhee smacked his palm against his forehead with a puff of air. Changmin, however, leaned back on the couch with a ponderous look on his face and rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "She probably would. She seems like she has more balls than you."

"Hey!"

Changmin grinned. "Just saying." He then leaned down to pick up his duffle bag sitting at his feet. "I've gotta run now, but let me know how it goes."

Sunwoo leveled a scowl at him as he passed by to go to the door. "I hope CM!Yn trips you in the practice room."

"Into her arms!" He hollered back, which was swiftly followed by the front door slamming shut.

While Changmin was headed out to meet CM!Yn at the practice room for her first time returning to dance after three years, Sunwoo and Chanhee were left to prepare Sunwoo for today's agenda. Yesterday, you and he had traded numbers, to which you had immediately asked if he'd wanted to hang out with you some more over Spring Break. The answer had been as easy as counting to three.

Now the only problem was to not freak out over it.

"You're picking up lunch, aren't you?" Chanhee asked as he shoved Sunwoo into the bathroom.

Sunwoo nodded shallowly and picked up his round brush and blow-dryer. "Mhm. I'm meeting her at the performing arts building, and we're gonna take the metro up to Lake Anchor. Ever been up there?"

Chanhee fixed the collar of Sunwoo's white button-up, then snatched the brush and blowdryer out of his hands to do it for him. "Nope. Heard it's nice up there though."

"Yeah," Sunwoo muttered, nearly dropping the serum bottle in his hands. "She said her friend Sieun recommended it."

"Ah."

It wouldn't have felt like a date as much if Sunwoo hadn't searched up Lake Anchor when you'd texted him about it last night. The place was gorgeous, a certified calendar-worthy landscape with purple mountain majesties in the back and shores lined with emerald green hills and willow trees. It didn't help that the Reddit pages all deemed it a "couple's picnic spot you can't miss." Oh, he wasn't going to miss it, all right.

Thirty minutes later, he found himself outside the doors to the performing arts center where you said you were currently taking a tech lesson from Bang Chan. He had a paper bag of snacks and sandwiches from the local convenience store in one hand and the other tucked away into his pocket.

He wondered if he could go in and see you, but he'd already texted you he was waiting outside, and you'd replied you were on your way out.

Just as he was about to go sit on one of the benches, one of the doors at the entrance opened. You emerged out into the late spring morning with the breeze in your hair, a tote bag slung over one shoulder, and a ukulele case hanging from the other. You smiled wide at him and waved.

Sunwoo's lips parted into a grin. "Hi. I got us snacks," he said and lifted the brown bag in his hand.

"Sunwoo, you didn't have to," you pursed your lips fondly, adjusting your bag straps.

"I wanted to." The two of you fell into step in the direction of the closest metro station. It would be a short walk from here into the university Avenue, and down a block to the station. Everything was conveniently placed in the name of accessibility. "Plus, I didn't really eat breakfast," he admitted.

"Me neither." You cupped half your face with your palm. "Aish. I always forget I have, like, yogurt in the fridge, y'know?"

Sunwoo chuckled. "Yeah, I get that. My roommate and I always forget that we have groceries in the fridge because we always see the ramen packets on the counter instead. How was the lesson with Chan?"

The two of you stopped at the intersection to wait for the light. You hugged your ukulele to your chest. "It was good! He's always really helpful and knowledgeable—and patient," you mused. "I hope you don't mind me bringing my uke along though. I thought it would be a nice form of entertainment once we got up to the lake."

"I'm not entertaining enough for you," he gasped melodramatically, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout.

You laughed, and the sound made him break his pout and smile. "I thought I would be the entertaining one for once. D'you know how to play?"

The crosswalk sign turned on for you, and you both made your way across.

"I know some guitar," Sunwoo answered, "but just the basics. They teach you a bit at summer music camp." As he walked by your side, he felt his hand brush against the back of yours. "My hyung—Jacob—he plays guitar pretty well. He's good at singing, too, like you."

He caught your smile from the corner of his eye.

"He did it to woo his girlfriend," he jested, sticking his tongue in his cheek when he remembered how JC!Yn brought him and Haknyeon up to speed last quarter about her love life antics.

You chuckled. "That's a shame you know the trick," you said with an impish twinkle in your eyes, "because that was exactly my plan."

Sunwoo came to a screeching halt in the middle of the walkway, and when you realized he was still staring wide-eyed at the sidewalk, you let out a laugh and went back to drag him along to the station.

— ✶

The view was something out of a magazine, the kind that took one's breath away. You and Sunwoo had claimed the shade beneath a willow tree and settled down across from each other with the brown paper bag flattened out to display the feast he had purchased. There were other small groups of people around, as well, all of whom seemed to have the same ideas as you two as they soaked up sun, read books and napped in the shade, and picnicked along the grassy shoreline. There was even a small booth a mile down the bank that rented out swan-shaped paddle boats and canoes for people to take out onto the water.

You and Sunwoo had pretty much demolished all of the goodies he brought with him. The conversation had been flowing, simple and organic, and you felt at peace—that was the best way to describe it. Maybe it was the location, the circumstance, the company, or all three.

You picked up your ukulele from where it laid in its case by your side. "Any suggestions?" You queried, taking the instrument out and checking that it was in tune.

Sunwoo brushed his hands of crumbs and braced his palms on the grass behind him. It was the visual of him in that white shirt, his sleeves rolled up and collarbone exposed, jawline clean and sharp as he gazed out at the view that made your heart race again. "Hmm," he hummed, "what did you first learn on it?"

"I think I taught myself Lemonade by Jeremy Passion," you said to him and scoured your brain for the right chords. You strummed a G-flat minor, and when it sounded about right, you shifted to B, until you managed to jog your memory of all four chords.

He watched you with softened eyes, his knees pulled up to his chest now as he leaned his cheek onto the tops of his knees. "That's a good song," he murmured.

"Do you know the lyrics?"

He chuckled, shaking his head and flicking his wrist. "Oh, no, no. I don't sing."

"Doesn't sound like you can't," you quipped back with a teasing tilt in your smile. You swayed a little as you played the tune over and over again. "A little shy, are we?"

You could see the smile peeking from his lips even when he tried to hide it in his arms. "I don't sing a lot."

"If I sang the first verse, would you join me in the chorus?" You offered as a compromise. You wouldn't push after this if he still refused, but there was a part of you that felt like you needed to hear this beautiful man sing for you.

He balked for a second, toeing at the dirt. Then, "Okay. I'll join in at the chorus."

A smile bloomed on your face. "Excellent."

You were a little shaky going in yourself. Though you had definitely practiced this song more times than you could count, performing it for someone else was always like playing it for the first time. And you wanted Sunwoo to enjoy it, and to be impressed by you. You wanted to do well for him and to be able to encourage him.

As he said he would, you heard him join in at the chorus—softly, at first, until he was the main vocal and you could bolster him with the harmony.

His eyes met yours, all smiles, as the song continued on. The ending verse… dear god, you could fall over from pure giddiness at the way he nailed the runs and you could do a little showing off with your strumming. Shivers, just plain shivers.

"She's exactly what… I need," he crooned, fingers playing absentmindedly with a strand of grass.

You let the vibrations of the strings linger in the spring air for a moment. It was like the two of you were encased in this bubble all by yourselves; and it was beautiful. It was perfect.

"I knew you could sing," you said to him. "I just had a feeling."

He hung his head, but the smile on his face could not be suppressed. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For encouraging me," he shook his head. "Believing in me."

You pursed your lips together thoughtfully and you wished you could pick his brain without risking total invasion. "Do people not believe in you often?" You asked quietly, shifting to move yourself around the pile of rolled-up trash and to sit next to him.

He followed your lead, scooting himself next to you until you were no longer opposite, but adjacent. "Not people, just me, I think."

"Ah." You could empathize.

He gave a shallow nod. "Do you ever get scared of making a mistake so you don't—I dunno—go for it? And then you end up thinking that maybe not taking that risk was the mistake?"

You set your ukulele down in the case beside you and mirrored his position, arms looped around your legs. "I do. All the time actually, and it's a scary feeling."

"Yeah," he exhaled. "Sometimes I wish I had just gone into music, full-on. I mean, a communication major is useful and all, but there are times when I wonder where I would have been if I had nurtured that passion."

His words resonated within you. There was a reason why you transferred to this university and decided to leave your original plan behind. You had gone into college with an intent to major in Computer Science, but less than a year in, it had become abundantly clear to you how unhappy you were. Leaving wasn't just a choice, it had been a need.

You turned to look at Sunwoo and you felt your chest tug toward him. You bumped his leg with your knee. "You still have time," you said. "It's not too late to still see where that goes."

But you knew the conflict that warred in his head; you knew it all too well because you had experienced it firsthand. It was much more complicated than simply chasing after one's dreams. There was obligations, expectations, fears, and physical obstacles that made the situation more complex than it seemed at first glance. You didn't know his family situation, didn't know the whole story of why he hadn't taken his summer music camp experiences and translated it into his current college career.

You didn't know it all… but you wanted to. You wanted to know everything about him.

"You said you don't have a minor figured out yet, right?" You asked suddenly, an idea coming to you.

He hummed. "Yeah."

"Well, why don't you choose music as your minor?" When he didn't answer right away, you added, "You obviously don't have to decide right this second—it's just something to think about."

(It seemed he had a lot he needed to think about lately.)

Sunwoo rose up and leaned back onto his palms again. When he turned to look at you, a sense of calm had come over him this time. "I really appreciate you."

You broke into a smile. "I appreciate you, too."

"No, really," he laughed, then bit his lip. "I'm sorry for screwing the mood—"

"You're not! Really," you insisted. "I don't mind. I like having meaningful conversations with people who mean a lot to me."

He didn't even have to say anything, because there was this look, one you simply could not ignore. It made your stomach feel like it was swarmed with butterflies and that you were walking on air. It was like watching him smile while listening to the song you wrote, like walking out of the performing arts center to see him waiting for you. He didn't have to say anything because you knew—you had to. There simply could not be any other explanation, right?

EPISODE SEVEN: WHAT IF SOULS FEEL FAMILIAR FOR A REASON?

YOU had been keeping a secret.

"So what you're saying is that you know that he knows, but he doesn't know that you know that he knows?"

You nodded, arms crossed. "Yeah, pretty much."

Jisung made a face and rested his temple against his palm. "My brain hurts."

From where she was perched on a stool, Park Sieun reached over and patted Jisung's nest of hair. "It is a little confusing. Why don't you just confront him about it?"

"I don't know," you huffed and fell back against the wall. The three of you were holed up in one of the private studios on campus. There weren't many buildings opened since it was still Spring Break, but many of the performing arts facilities were. Jisung had offered for you and Sieun to meet him in the room he had snagged and had been currently occupying in order to bust out as much creative energy as possible. (Newsflash, it was not going well, hence, yours and Sieun's invitations.) Studio rooms were pretty much soundproof, so they were good for those in the music programs who wanted a private space to practice or record things.

You had just brought them up to speed on your latest outing with a certain Kim Sunwoo up to Lake Anchor, as Sieun had so graciously suggested to you the other day. After your outing, however, you'd come to one very solid conclusion.

Well, and there was the matter of The Anonymous Situation.

Just this morning, you had opened your inbox to find another submission from one of your regular anonymous listeners whom you affectionately nicknamed Rhaps. Rhapsody Anonymous had begun to pop up in your inbox just last quarter, and it wasn't until recently that you figured out who it was. At first, it seemed completely implausible for Sunwoo to be the face behind the name, because there was no way out of a whole internet of people that he had managed to stumble across your podcast.

To make matters more complex, you had an inkling that he also knew that you were the host of Songbird Station. He had sent you something along the lines of: "Hey Dovey! I stumbled across this song recently that I haven't heard in awhile. It's called Lemonade, and I realize that I've only actually heard the ukulele vers. LOL anyways, I hope you're not too busy this Spring Break and that you've had time to relax. I've always wondered though… have you ever met someone who feels familiar to you? Not like in a 'I've reunited with you after five years' kind of familiar, but like… something more like kindred spirits……"

The whole message had the same amount of sweetness he always used to contact and interact with you, but the recommendation of the song Lemonade simply could not be a mere coincidence. You just couldn't accept that.

You had pondered this for a long time—the possibility of confronting him about his anonymous persona. And of course, there were several things that held you back from doing so. "I mean," you began, pushing off from the wall to slowly pace the little room available, "I don't want to scare him, y'know? Like I'm sure there's a reason why he goes by a pseudonym like I do, and I don't want to burst that bubble.

"Plus," you continued, "what if I'm just thinking about this all wrong? What if I've read the signs completely out of proportion and he's not actually Rhapsody Anonymous? That would just be embarrassing."

You stopped in front of your friends with your hands positioned on your hips and your head quirked to the side in thought.

"Would it really be so bad if you brought it up, like, even subtly?" Sieun asked you, her pink-tinted lips pursed slightly.

Jisung piped up, too, "Yeah, Sunwoo's a pretty cool guy. And based on what I've seen between the two of you and what you've told us, I don't think he would laugh at you or anything."

"I don't think he would laugh at me either," you confessed. "It's just kinda scary."

The two murmured their agreement. Though Sieun was your trio's only extrovert, you actually had no idea how you'd come to be decently close friends with these two. You chalked it up to all frequenting similar social circles. The music program was always a good way to make friends, and you were glad that it had yet to fail you, even in college.

Sieun made a vague gesture with her hand. "I think you should try, though. I'm sure you'll find a way to slide it in," she chuckled.

Jisung snorted. "I have never seen that man so flustered in his life."

"Yeah, he has to be whipped for you, Yn-ie."

A cough from the boy in the room. "Not like you're any more whipped than he is."

"Han Jisung!" You reprimanded, heat swarming to your cheeks.

He broke into a boyish grin, eyes wide and alight like a chipmunk. "What? Don't give me the government name; you know it's true!"

Even Sieun was laughing behind her oh-so delicately placed hand. "He's got a point."

You sighed, wrinkling your nose. "I came for support, not a call out."

"Are those not the same things—AH, I'M SORRY DON'T WHACK ME—!"

— ✶

There was a place on the Avenue with the best lime soda, as Sunwoo had claimed, when the two of you coordinated to get lunch together. Because you had chosen the place of your last hangout, you'd insisted that he chose a place this time. By his texts, he had seemed pleasantly surprised to be hanging out again so soon, and while your nerves were high in anticipation for the coming conversation, you also couldn't wait to spend time with him some more.

You met outside the storefront of a Vietnamese restaurant that you'd only seen in passing, and had yet to try. You glanced up from your phone just as Sunwoo came up from down the road toward you, dressed in jeans and a bomber jacket.

"Hey, sorry to keep you waiting," he said as he swung the door open for you.

You and he ducked inside. "It's no worries," you assured him. "Hope you're not sick of me just yet."

You saw that boyish grin of his as he caught your eyes and signaled the waiter for a table for two. "Never."

When the two of you were seated, your eyes greedily took in the options laid out on the menu. There were just far too many appetizing items—maybe you should have scouted out the menu beforehand.

"Any favorites?" You queried from over the rim of your menu.

Sunwoo was slinging his shoulder bag over his head as you asked this. "Oh, uh, I've been hooked on their shrimp banh xeo ever since my friend Haknyeon introduced me to it. It's like a Vietnamese crepe with stir fried vegetables and a protein. But I think in general, everything is pretty good here."

You hummed. "Mmh, sounds good. And you said the lime soda is really good, too?"

He nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, for sure. That stuff is addicting."

You took his word for it, and soon, the two of you had finished ordering your lunch for the day. A part of you wished you didn't have to disturb the pleasantness of this one-on-one lunch date (was this a date?) with Sunwoo by bringing up the podcast, but what if by clearing the air, it would make your relationship stronger? (Or, it could end in a fiery, hot pile of shit!)

Either way, you would try to get to it as organically as possible.

"So I wanted to talk to you about something." Yes, because this is totally organic, Yn… You grabbed your cup of lime soda and played absentmindedly with the straw.

You gauged his reaction carefully. He perked up. "You—you wanted to talk to me about something?" He parroted, pointing his finger back at himself. "That's not usually good."

"Sorry, no, it's not bad!" You promised. On the way here, you had come up with about a dozen ways to go about this, but at the end of the day, there would only be a yes or no answer. "Do you, by chance, happen to listen to podcasts?"

There was that flicker of recognition over his face, and for a second, he reminded you of something like a puppy with how wide his eyes were. "Uhh," he drawled, scratching his head and feigning nonchalance, "I mean, sometimes. Like casually."

"This might sound weird—"

"Uh-huh."

"—but are you Rhapsody Anonymous?"

If sweat could be animated, that was what you imagined to be dripping down the side of Sunwoo’s face at this moment. He seemed to be figuring out a way to reply. “Would you believe me if I asked you what a Rhapsody Anonymous is?”

“No, not really.”

“What’s a podcast?”

You huffed. “Sunwoo—”

“Okay,” he relented, slumping over slightly. He seemed nervous, in a way, eyes looking anywhere but you, twirling his straw between his thumb and index finger, his foot tapping furiously against the linoleum floor. “I’m sorry! I didn’t really want to bring up the podcast to you because I thought that you enjoyed the anonymity, y’know?” He told you with an apologetic wince. “And I really liked listening to the show, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to interact with you anonymously, as well, and over time, I thought we’d kinda become friends.”

He peered up at you nervously, and guilt wormed its way into the trenches of your gut. From what it seemed, he must have really thought that you would react negatively to him knowing your podcast-hosting side show.

“We are friends,” you finally said and scooped a lock of hair out of your face. “I’m not like, mad, or anything; it was more of me trying to figure out why you felt so familiar to me. And I’m really honored that you liked my podcast enough to want to interact with me there. It means a lot.”

With your small smile, Sunwoo’s posture flooded with relief. “So you’re not mad that I figured out your identity?”

“Definitely not,” you shook your head. “If anything, I’m relieved. I’ve been wondering about your identity for a while now.”

The corners of Sunwoo’s mouth lifted. “That’s… that’s cool. This is really cool,” he said. He let out a sigh, leaning back to slump in his chair with a dramatic expression of anguish on his face. “You have no idea how much it’s been eating me up inside, Dovey! Like how do you balance your two identities? It takes so much energy for me to make sure I keep them separate.”

“I can tell; you weren’t exactly the most inconspicuous,” you teased.

He sat up. “What do you—”

“Well, you kind of told me things in person that you’ve told to me on anonymous, and vice versa.” You recalled to him the two main instances that gave him away to you. It was amusing to see the way he grew increasingly more flustered as you kept talking about it, but you realized that this was probably incredibly painful for him to hear.

Sunwoo had his head in his hands by the time you were done. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

He shifted slightly so that his cheek rested against one palm. “And to think that I was being all slick and secretive,” he pouted, scrunching up his nose. “You know, I always thought about being friends with you in real life. That one time that I told you about that one Taylor Swift song that reminded me of you?”

“Superstar?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” He meditated on that thought while sipping his drink. “It just felt right. Like you were far away but also right there in my ear. Does that make sense?”

You knew what the song was about; you could recite the lyrics by heart, and the fact that he associated that song with you… It sent your heart a-flutter. “It does.”

He jolted up so suddenly you nearly fell out of your seat with him. “Not that I’m desperately in love with you or anything,” he added quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth as fast as he mentally skimmed through the lyrics again and again. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and you were sure that your neck looked as hot as it felt.

You pretended your heart didn’t drop to the pit of your stomach when he said that. You laughed along with him, though you weren’t sure why it sounded like it did. “Oh, right, right. I didn’t think that; don’t worry.” All the butterflies in your stomach drooped.

Sunwoo scrambled to find the right words. “I just mean that I always felt like some average Joe, and you were…” He gestured to you helplessly, “you.”

Your heart couldn’t help but give a sharp pang at that.

“And how could I ever be anything more to you than just another listener in your stats, y’know?”

You never thought that you would have ever given off that kind of vibe toward listeners, or come to mean that much to any members of your audience. It had seemed simply impossible for you to ever become large enough to evoke that kind of feeling in people—a popstar to their fans. You folded your arms over the table and leaned toward him. “Sunwoo, you were never just another listener. You made yourself known to me and you made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

He slowly met your eyes, and you sat up straighter, reaching toward the paper straw wrapper to fidget with. “I originally started this podcast because I needed a place to talk. After feeling like people were always moving on without me, I was trying to search for validation, and I found that in podcasting. I figured that maybe… if I was feeling these things, then there had to be someone out there who was feeling them, too.

“And the song recommendation and music talk was always a nice bonus,” you added. “I had people send in anonymous submissions, but never as frequently as you did, and it made me feel like I was reaching somebody. Not just a random hit every so often, but somebody.”

Sunwoo’s eyes shone in the artificial lighting inside the restaurant, and outside your little bubble, you barely registered the noises around you. It was just you and Sunwoo in this moment in time and space. He swallowed. “You’re really cool, you know that?”

You grabbed your cup of lime soda and softly knocked it against his. “That’s all you, superstar.”

— ✶

Lunch had progressed much smoother after you had confronted Sunwoo, to say the least. You were convinced, however, that you had to meet this Haknyeon character he kept telling you about. He was the one to recommend the Vietnamese restaurant, and he was going to be your new favorite person. (Sorry, Sunwoo.)

When both you and Sunwoo had finished up with lunch, you didn’t want to cut your time with him short and asked him if he’d ever been up to the Farmer’s Market north of the Ave.

“There’s a Farmer’s Market over there?” His mouth gaped as he let you lead him a couple blocks north.

You grinned, tipping your head up to the sky to soak in the last bits of sunlight before it was about to be blanketed over by gray clouds. “Yeah! It’s really neat. They’ve got one going every week, I think.”

The walk up was an easy one as it was a straight shot from the restaurant to the intersection where white picket fences were set up to barricade the street for vendors to set up in. Pop-up tents of different colors and sizes lined either side of the street as people milled about going from vendor to vendor. This had been one of the few gems you’d found when you transferred here, and though you didn’t often visit, you tried to buy at least a couple things to support the local businesses. The fruit here tasted much better than the ones in-stores, anyway.

You and Sunwoo slipped past the fences and into the throng of people, and you watched his face light up in awe as he took in the sights and smells. There were people selling beaded bracelets and art, farmers tossing blueberries into kids’ mouths… it was a lively slice of community here.

“Wow, this is incredible,” he said, but suddenly stopped short. “Oh my god, they’re selling melon pops, Yn-ie!” He pointed out a stand a little further down the way that he had peered over a few heads for. He grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him. “Come on! I’ll treat you to one.”

It wasn’t like you were going to refuse him.

Within another few minutes, you and Sunwoo had both acquired one melon popsicle each. It was adorable to see him bouncing along on the balls of his feet like a kid on Christmas morning as he lapped up the light green juice dripping down the side of the frozen treat.

“—look how pretty those sunflowers are!” He gasped at one of the stands to your left selling bundles of different flowers.

An idea popped into your head, and you scurried over to the booth and traded a two dollar bill for one of the baby sunflowers. You whirled around to where Sunwoo stood and waited for you. “Stand still,” you said while reaching up to tuck the flower behind his ear.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, you pulled out your phone and snapped a quick picture of him.

Sunwoo’s eyes had gone wide, his cheekbones the same color as the roses in the bundles behind you. “What… just happened,” he asked, blinking, then came over to poke your shoulder to get your attention. He peered over at your phone screen to see that you were setting the photo you took as his new contact photo. He let out a hum, “Wow.”

“It’s cute.” You let him see the picture.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen before finally giving it a nod of approval. “Okay, good enough.”

You scoffed, lightly hitting his arm with the back of your hand. “Good enough? I think it’s perfect.” You finished off the rest of your melon pop and tossed the stick in a nearby trash bin.

(If you’d looked up from your phone at that moment, you would have seen the utter bliss on Sunwoo’s face after hearing you compliment a picture of him and calling it “perfect.” To him, absolutely nothing could ruin this day, this moment, this year for him—!)

One raindrop fell onto your phone screen, followed by another, and another, and ano--

(He should not have spoken so soon.)

“It’s raining,” you observed dumbly, reaching a palm out to feel the pitter-patter of the sky’s tears on your skin. Others around you were beginning to notice, too, either huddling under their nearest tent or the overhangs of establishments lined on the sidewalk.

You figured somebody must have pissed the weather off because the rain only began to drum harder against the world.

"Well, shit," you laughed and patted Sunwoo on the back of his shoulder to move him toward the side of the road. "Let's find shelter!"

The two of you joined the crowd as you scrambled past the tents and up onto the sidewalks. Some people simply went into the shops themselves, but you and Sunwoo took a moment to stare out at the once-clear sky. Strange how springtime weather worked.

Sunwoo finished off his popsicle and found a trash bin to toss the stick into. He ran a hand through his dampened locks, then dragged that same palm down his face. "D'you like a little rain, dove?"

The nickname caught you off-guard for a second, but not as badly as seeing the soft-cornered smile on his face.

You cleared your throat. "I don't mind it. How about you?"

He made a frown at the sky as if he could reprimand nature for crashing the date—wait, this wasn't a date, was it? "It would have been nice if the weather report was accurate for once, but a little walk in the rain never hurt anybody."

You voiced your agreement. The next course of action you both decided on was making the long trek home in the rain together. You tried to stay out of the shower as best as you could, but there definitely weren't enough overhangs to get you home completely dry.

At one of the intersections, Sunwoo looked over at you through his dripping wet bangs. "You don't have a jacket."

On instinct, you glanced down at your bare arms, only clad in a T-shirt. "Oh, I guess I don't," you mused.

"Here—" he shouldered off the black bomber jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

"Sunwoo, I can't—"

"Yes, you can," he laughed and shook his head out. The light turned green to cross, and he wrapped an arm around you to keep you steady along the rain-slicked street.

The jacket and arm around you were both warm, but you had a feeling that even without the jacket, his arm would have been more than enough.

When you'd made it to your apartment complex and bursted into the front lobby, you and Sunwoo practically stood in your own self-made puddles. You took the jacket off from around your shoulders and shook it out; it was a shoddy attempt to get the water out, but at least the material was semi-waterproof on the outside.

"Here you…" Your throat went dry as you made to hand his jacket back to him and zeroed in on the way his wet, white T-shirt stuck flush against his skin. There was no other way to describe it but as see through, and there was no way in hell you were going to be able to erase that defined stomach from your mind. "...Go."

You coughed as you looked away, and he accepted his jacket back with a low "Thanks."

When he zipped his jacket up, you nodded toward the elevator. "Do you wanna come up and dry off before you go out? You can totally borrow my umbrella if you want, too."

He shook his head. "No, it's okay. My apartment's not far, I swear."

"Ah, alright. Get home safe then." You paused, then added, "Text me once you get back?"

Sunwoo flashed you a smile, and man, if you could engrave that smile, the wet hair, into your brain… "Promise. I'll see you soon, superstar."

He reached over and ruffled your hair, then ducked out of your apartment into the rain. Just before he was out of your sight, he turned back and waved at you through the front windows.

You let out an exhale once he had disappeared. A fuzzy feeling lingered in your chest, your smile never leaving your face. You were so far gone.

EPISODE EIGHT: SWERVE LIKE A CHICKEN

ALTHOUGH Spring Break had swept through the university faster than it came, Sunwoo could still say he felt like he was riding on Cloud 9. The beginning of the quarter was easily a more relaxed part of the term, but Spring quarter itself was a whole other nightmare in itself. Everyone around him was beginning to wake up from their break-dazed slumbers to clamber their asses back into uncomfortable lecture chairs and study rooms.

It was the first Tuesday back from Spring Break when he found out you were going to be in a practice room alone for a while, working on a new project. This intel had been courtesy of one Han Jisung, who had been texting Sunwoo off and on about a track he had been mixing with Chan.

han !!: yeah just left cuz my brain was feelin super fried 🤣 dunno how ynies still there

sunwoo's phone: oh fr?? she's still over there?

han !!: yuh bro that's what i just said

han !!: r u gonna do anything abt it 👀😳

sunwoo's phone: i have no clue what ur talking abt

han !!: okay bye chicken

sunwoo's phone: u did not just call me chicken.

han !!: 🐓🐓🐓

Sunwoo walked out of his room and stood in the middle of the apartment, staring blankly at the back of Eric's head. His roommate was seated on the couch setting up a movie, and when he sensed someone was staring at him, he began to say, "Baby!—wait a minute."

Eric made a face. "Never mind, it's just you."

Sunwoo scoffed and flopped onto the opposite end of the couch. "Rude! Before EC!Yn, I used to be your one and only."

"That's actually so incorrect—"

"Do you boys ever not cat-fight?" EC!Yn mused as she came out from the bathroom and found a seat between Eric and Sunwoo. Eric instantly curled an arm around her and pulled her into his side.

Sunwoo considered this with a frown. Why was he so single? "You're lucky I tolerate your boyfriend, EC!Yn," said Sunwoo as he folded his arms over his chest and sunk into the shadows of his hoodie.

"I'm glad you've come to like me more than your own best friend," she drawled in jest. "What's got you in the dumps, my friend?"

Eric perked up, pressing the play button on the TV remote to start the movie. "Oh yeah! You were in such a good mood this morning."

A grumble from the lump of hoodie. "It's nothing."

A moment of silence passed. Then, "He misses Yn."

"I think so, too."

"Do you think if we texted her to text him, he would at least smile?"

"Oh, I think I found her Instagram the other day—"

Sunwoo peered out of his hoodie with narrowed eyes. "I can hear you guys, you know that, right?"

Both Eric and his partner shot him impish grins, delighted that their very obvious conversation brought him out of silence. The thought forced a smile onto Sunwoo's face anyway. Eric's baseball game had been canceled today because the team who they were going up against this week had internal problems (something about an affair between coaches and players—it was complicated). Thus, Eric had decided to fill his afternoon with an impromptu movie session with his girlfriend. Sunwoo was invited by roommate obligation.

There were definitely more productive things that Sunwoo could have been doing (finding a minor, finding a job, finding the answers to his cognitive psych homework, etcetera), but watching… Wait, what were they even watching?

EC!Yn reached over and nudged his shoulder with her knuckles. "Hey, Earth to Kim Sunwoo."

He shook out of his daze. "Huh? Oh, sorry." He sighed, pulling out his phone. "Jisung just told me that Yn's at the practice room working still."

"Still?"

"Yeah," he bobbed his head. "They've been there ever since they finished their composition class this morning."

Eric lowered the volume on the TV. "Dude, you should go keep her company."

Sunwoo's eyes shot open as he began mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. "I don’t wanna bother her; she probably doesn’t wanna be bothered if she’s been working for so long.” The thought had crossed his mind to head over to the practice rooms right now and sit in for a session, but he had shut his own idea down almost immediately. Would you appreciate him going to bug you or would you mind him just going to sit with you and enjoy your presence?

“I was thinking the exact opposite,” said EC!Yn, “I mean, whenever Eric comes over unannounced to come sit with me at the dorm, I appreciate it all the time.”

Eric cooed. “Aw, you do?”

Sunwoo blinked and was suddenly glad he was staring down at his phone and not the couple on the couch next to him. But he glanced up to catch EC!Yn’s eyes. “Do you really think she wouldn’t mind?”

When Eric tucked his face into her neck, she idly scratched his head. “Oh, definitely. I think it’ll be a nice surprise, considering she probably feels the same about you, based on what you’ve already told us.”

“You’re right!” Sunwoo shot up off the couch, but halted. “Wait, she what?”

Eric snorted. “She said that Yn probably feels the same about you, which, if I’m being honest, I can’t believe—”

Sunwoo dashed into his room to grab his wallet and keys. “Nobody asked you!”

— ✶

Coffee. You liked coffee, right?

Sunwoo couldn't quite think straight with the giddy anticipation bubbling in his stomach and up his chest as he balanced twin cups of iced americano in his hands. Taking the bus to the School of Music would have been less effort on his legs, but waiting for it simply did not sit with the amount of energy currently carrying him down the street and up the stairs and across the quad like a madman.

People were probably eyeing him weirdly, but he was trying to come up with things to say to you. Preferably, these things were smooth and not strange fragments that weren't properly strung together. He wanted to look put together, to sound put together.

He was probably going to look frazzled, though, from half-running a mile uphill, but that was okay—he was excited to see you.

The School of Music stood right across from the School of Art building, the twin towers looming above the quad stairs. With school back in session, there were plenty of people milling about the entrance, and somebody graciously opened the door for Sunwoo so he didn't have to awkwardly balance his coffees and risk spilling them to get inside. He hadn't often visited this building, but he had been in here before to visit friends and upperclassmen. Though the architecture was grander, it still had the homey feeling of a high school band room, some place music students could call home.

Sunwoo navigated himself toward the practice rooms in the back hallways, murmuring "excuse me"s and apologies as he sidestepped string bassists and bassoons and snare drums. (He could've sworn there was a whole drum kit in one of these; it was strange seeing someone carrying around a single snare… huh.)

He reached the corridor to turn right into the practice hall when he froze, diving back behind the wall.

"—wait, Yangyang—"

Something in him sunk deep into the pit of his stomach, an anchor to the sea floor. He watched you launch out of your practice room and into Yangyang's arms, both of you hugging each other closely. He had his arms wrapped around you and his cheek against the crown of your head.

Sunwoo couldn't hear what you were saying to each other—if you were saying anything at all.

And you didn't let go. Not yet, at least.

When you did finally let go, the two of you were beaming at each other. It was near impossible to make out what kind of emotion was there from so far away, but Sunwoo couldn't look anymore when Yangyang leaned in towards you—

Sunwoo pressed himself against the wall he was peering around.

Oh.

He struggled to swallow; there was a large lump sitting in his throat that he had to wrestle down.

Disappointment—yeah, that was disappointment.

Before you or Yangyang could come down this way, Sunwoo retraced his steps from where he came until he was back outside. He sucked in a breath, mind abuzz.

He set down the cups of iced coffee, now perspiring, on a ledge nearby, so he could pull out his phone.

It rang twice. "Yo."

"Are you practicing right now?" Sunwoo asked, leaning his body against the railing. His free hand held his face as his brain replayed the events he had just witnessed. Did that mean what he thought he meant? You were totally allowed to see other people—the two of you weren't exclusive—but goddamn, did that hurt to think about.

Was he too late? Had he chickened out so long that you decided to move on, or was he never in the running in the first place?

He heard a bit of shuffling from the other side, then a sigh from Changmin. "Now I'm not. What's up?"

"I'm coming over."

A pause. "...Okay, see you soon."

EPISODE NINE: [YELLS.]

THERE was something different in the air and you could taste it. Not literally, of course, but you figured your paranoia had manifested strong enough within you to be able to sniff these kinds of things out. "These things" referred to the slight difference in the way you interacted with Sunwoo, or rather, how Sunwoo interacted with you.

You turned your phone off again, having checked it for what felt like the fifth time in the past two minutes. Usually, he replied relatively fast, but for the past week or so, he'd been a little more delayed. He didn't text dry, which was a relief, but there was something off about it. You couldn't articulate it too well—it was just a gut feeling.

"Oy, phone away, Yn," Sieun ordered, snapping her fingers and holding her hand out across the table.

You sent her a look, but reluctantly handed your phone over to her. "But—"

"No buts!" She tutted. She hid your phone within the confines of her purse before promptly returning to the warm bowl of biang biang noodles in front of her. "The more you check your phone, the sadder of a sap you look."

"Thanks," you deadpanned, but followed her lead and picked up your chopsticks to eat your food.

The two of you were seated in, arguably, the best Chinese restaurant on the Avenue. It had become a fast favorite of yours when you first transferred, saved for the long days and weeks when you needed something like spice to make you feel anything other than sad. Sieun had suggested coming down here for dinner rather than staying in and eating another round of instant ramen. It was something she knew would cheer you up easily, and so far, it was only half working.

You reached for your water, only to realize it was practically empty.

As if she could read your mind, the waitress taking care of your table appeared at your side and filled your water up for you.

"Oh, thank you!" Your eyes glanced over at her name tag—HN!Yn—and met her kind eyes.

"Of course. Anything else I can get you two?" She asked cheerily, swiftly filling up Sieun's cup, as well, with practiced grace. "Food's good?"

Both you and Sieun nodded your heads vigorously, especially since both of your mouths were now full and you couldn't speak. She seemed to get the idea and hustled over to a nearby table to tend to them. How waiters and waitresses always knew when you had food in your mouth, you could never figure out. It was always absolutely awful timing, but you supposed the skill was akin to Starbucks workers butchering name spellings.

When you finally swallowed your bite, you chased it with a gulp of water. "I don't think I did anything wrong," you said to your friend, pushing around the saucy rice in your bowl with the tips of your chopsticks.

Sieun covered her mouth. "I don't think so either," she replied, eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe he's just busy? It could be that he got a job or something, or school work is piling up."

You frowned. You thought he would have let you know he was going to be a bit busier, but at the same time, he didn't owe you anything. You just worried about him and hoped he wasn't overworking himself. It didn't help that you missed hanging out with him; it didn't feel like it used to between you just last week.

From behind you, you heard the door to the restaurant open and close with a loud smack! The door to the restaurant was awfully loud when it closed, unless it was carefully done. Something about the angle at which it was constructed, or something like that.

Sieun's brows flew up. "Speak of the devil," she muttered with her food pushed into her cheek.

"Hm?" You hummed and twisted around in your seat to see who she was referring to.

Oh. Well, she definitely wasn't wrong, per se.

Coming in through the door himself was Kim Sunwoo, as well as a few of his own friends, you guessed. You recognized one of them as Ji Changmin, one of the dancers from the winter showcase. Besides those two, there were four others, too—three other boys and a girl. You didn't recognize any of them, but you saw the way your waitress greeted them and squeezed one of the boys' hands.

You and Sunwoo made eye contact, and you shot him a small smile, lifting your fingers in a wave.

He seemed surprised to see you, and you didn't fault him for that. His wave was slight and smile shy, but you couldn't figure out why he ducked his head and didn't come by and say hi.

They're being seated for dinner, Yn. It's okay. Chill a little.

You turned back in your seat to face Sieun and your food again.

"Hey, cheer up, girl." Sieun's smile was sympathetic as she caught your attention. You hadn't even noticed how your posture noticeably slumped after that interaction—if one could even call it that. "Don't let this ruin your dinner, okay?"

You sighed out of your nose, testing your chopsticks over the rim of your bowl. "You're right. I don't know, Eun. It feels like we regressed? Is he avoiding me? Am I overthinking this?"

"I'm not sure, hon," she told you. "It'll be okay, though. I promise. Are you ready for the check?"

You nodded, reaching for your napkin to wipe your mouth.

Sieun lifted her hand and caught your waitress's attention, then made a motion for the bill. HN!Yn was quick to bring it over and set the little black tray with the receipt onto the edge of your table. In her hands she held a small device to input your method of payment.

"Are we splitting the bill today, ladies?" She asked you, eyes flickering between you both.

"Yeah, evenly split would be great, please," you told her.

Sieun leaned over to peer at the receipt as you reached into your bag to grab your card. Her face contorted into confusion, and she ran her finger over a line as if reading over it again carefully. "Oh, uhm, excuse me. It says we get a discount—not that I'm complaining! But…"

HN!Yn smiled. "Ah, you're friends with Sunwoo, right? That's what he told me, at least. I always give my partner and his friends my Friends & Family discount, so don't worry about it. I appreciate your integrity though."

You and Sieun exchanged wide-eyed glances, blinking, then turned to peer over at where Sunwoo's friend group sat. One of the boys sitting next to him whacked his arm to get his attention, nodding toward your table.

Sunwoo looked up.

Your head tilted to the side and you mouthed a "thank you?" to him, unsure of why he went out of his way to help you out.

He only nodded before ducking his head again. Huh. You'd have to thank him properly later.

HN!Yn was quick to help you and Sieun box your meals and finish paying. Before long, you tucked your arm around Sieun's to push out into the cool evening—not without glancing back at Sunwoo's table first.

— ✶

"She looks sad. Why is she sad?" Sunwoo sulked, lying atop his folded arms on the table and staring at you through the space between Haknyeon and JC!Yn.

You were the last person he thought he'd see when he and his friends walked into Haknyeon's favorite Chinese restaurant. You and your friend were pretty much wrapping up dinner when they'd come in, and he was quite literally startled by your presence. He'd been walking around on eggshells, he felt, all because of this stupid situation he'd forced himself into.

It was stupid. Yeah… it was stupid.

Changmin delivered a light whack to the back of Sunwoo's head. "You're dumb."

Sunwoo sat up and cupped the back of his head, leveling a glare at his friend. "Hello?"

"He's not exactly wrong," said Chanhee from the other side of him as he texted someone on his phone.

Sunwoo pressed his lips together and looked across the table from him at JC!Yn in a silent cry for help. The woman could only lift her shoulders half-heartedly. That meant that she agreed with them… great.

Eric snapped his wooden chopsticks apart and began using either stick to smooth the other for splinters. "We're saying you're dumb because you're doing this to yourself and to her unnecessarily."

Sunwoo huffed. "That's because you guys weren't there to see it happen! They're totally together—or at least, close." It still felt awful to think about. It felt like there was a hole in his chest left empty after considering the possibility that he was too late. He didn't want to get hurt.

"You can still talk to her like you used to, Sunwoo-ah," Haknyeon chimed in. "Even if they were—and I'm not saying they are—together, there's still a healthy amount of space where you can dwell as her friend."

HN!Yn appeared at the head of the table with a tray of water, and everyone pitched in to pass the cups down. "Thanks, guys," she said, tucking the tray under her arm. "Are you guys ready to order?" The question was directed towards the rest of the table, but Sunwoo saw the way her eyes lingered on Haknyeon and how Haknyeon's smile shifted to something that Sunwoo was sure was only for her.

It made him feel strange again.

The group, as usual, trusted Haknyeon's choices in dishes and let him take the reins in deciding what they ate tonight. Once HN!Yn had headed off into the kitchen to deliver their order, conversation resumed swiftly.

"I think you're just scared, Sunwoo," JC!Yn said to him over the rim of her glass of water.

Murmurs of agreement resounded from all around the table. Sunwoo's jaw fell open. "I—I am not scared. What would I be scared of?"

"The truth! Oooh," Eric pursed his lips and wiggled his fingers in Sunwoo's direction.

Sunwoo promptly smacked Eric's hand away.

"If you weren't scared of the truth," said Haknyeon, as he propped his elbows onto the table, "you would have gone up to her in that hallway."

"Didn't she tell you that she didn't see Yangyang that way anyways?" Chanhee chimed in. He was still going at it texting whoever it was on his phone.

"But she also said she wanted to give it a second chance," Sunwoo corrected.

Changmin scratched behind his ear and grabbed sauce trays from the end of the table to pass down to everyone else. "That was before she started hanging out with you some more. What is your point?"

They all made excellent points, he thought. That afternoon he'd seen you and Yangyang, he'd gone to meet Changmin in one of the dance practice rooms. After that, he'd gone home to yell into his pillow until his throat burned. Eric had muttered something about Sunwoo being dramatic and summoned JC!Yn over to the apartment to deal with him.

Sunwoo had just been bummed. He didn't even know if bummed was a strong enough word.

"I'm just scared of getting hurt, I guess," he finally admitted, meekly.

The table quieted to allow him room to speak his mind, and even Chanhee put his phone away to give him his full attention now. It wasn't often Sunwoo wore his heart on his sleeve like this, and it wasn't easy either. For anyone. Admitting to his fears in the middle of a Chinese restaurant while five of one's friends listened in was intimidating, but it was comforting to know that these friends he kept would find a way to support him. Even if he was being stupid, their tough love was out of desire to look out for him.

When he was done, Changmin clasped a warm hand on his shoulder and his dimple pressed into his cheek. "Sunwoo-yah, I think that you second guess yourself too much and you know that. You're self aware enough to know that you make the mistake of not going for what or who you want."

Sunwoo stared at an impurity in the table. What Changmin was saying hit the nail on the head—it was what happened with the dance showcase, too, and now he was about to let it ruin a friendship he had with a person he cared very much about.

"My advice," Changmin continued, "is to talk to her about what you saw and clarify it. I know it's… I know it's scary thinking you're gonna get hurt again, but I think you'll feel a lot better afterward."

EPISODE TEN: SUPERSTAR, I'M NOT TOO FAR

your phone: hey thanks for the fnf discount last night! sorry i didn't thank u properly before, but yeah, really appreciate it :')

sunshine (sunwoo): it was no problem, dw abt it!

your phone: btw is everything okay? u seem a bit distant lately and i wanted to make sure u were doing alright

sunshine (sunwoo): ah yeah, im sorry :( there's just been some things on my mind

You shot Sunwoo a quick text back to let him know you were here if he wanted anyone to talk to. His text had just come in after you'd sent him a reply in the early evening.

"Yn-ah. Still on your phone, I see?"

You jolted and shoved your device into the pocket of your jeans, smiling sheepishly as Lee Jihoon power-walked into the backstage area with a pen behind his ear and a clipboard in hand. "Hi, Jihoon!" You squeaked.

He lifted his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to come follow him. Since everyone was back from Spring Break, the work for the play being performed was kicked into high gear. Jihoon was a graduate student at the university and a director of the stage here; adding the fact that he majored in the same thing you did also made him one of your favorite mentors ever. The back hallways were bustling with costumes, props and other assorted technicians while most of the actors were either in the main backstage area or onstage proper with the play director, HJ!Yn.

You followed swiftly after him and weaved through the people littered about the corridors. "I finished synching the panel back here with the projector in the box," you told him, "though, it's weird that it was ever undone in the first place." You frowned. There had been a lot of strange things happening in the theater lately.

Jihoon gave you a curt nod and set you up in front of one of the house lights panels located in the hallway leading right out to the audience. He pointed at it with the back of his pen. "Yeah, some funky shit's been happening around here," he sighed. "You were here the other night when the speakers were acting weird, right?"

You nodded and let him guide you through navigating this backup panel. "I was. You and Chan seemed really stressed."

"We were," he said, adjusting his cap. "We really do need some more funding to update our equipment—careful, that knob is really sensitive. Good, nice work."

Once you and Jihoon had successfully finished with this panel, you lingered in the hallway for a moment. Normally, you would switch back and forth between shadowing either Chan or Jihoon, and tonight was with the latter. He was going through a couple forms on his clipboard—he must have been reading through them while working tonight.

"You seem distracted tonight, Yn-ie," he said. "Is everything okay?"

Despite being one of the busiest and hardest workers here, Jihoon was also one of the most observant, still. You leaned against the wall next to him, toeing at the floor. "Boys are stupid, right?"

Without hesitation or looking up from his clipboard, he replied, "As a boy, I can confirm."

That made you sputter out a laugh, and you saw him glance up and flash you a smile. When you couldn't find something else to say, he went forth. "I don't know the whole situation, and you don't have to tell me anything. But we guys are a little—" he made a gesture with his hands and wrinkled his nose, "—blind. You probably know that already, but dudes are dumbasses, and sometimes when feelings get in the way, they want to run for the hills.

"But if you think he's worth it, then reach out and be forward with him. And if he cares about you, he'll reach out and be honest," he finished. He let you settle with that thought, let it marinate in your brain to give you something to think about. (As if you didn't have a lot to think about already.)

You pressed your lips together with a slow nod. "Thanks Jihoon."

"Anytime, Yn-ie." He nodded back toward the direction you both had come from. "Let's go back that way, yeah? We've got some more housekeeping to take care of."

— ✶

Sunwoo was in trouble.

"...I thought I'd recommend a song that's been on my mind. I've actually been listening to quite a few Taylor Swift songs recently, especially since she's re-recording all her albums! So here's 'Superstar' from Fearless, Taylor's Version."

He had put your most recent podcast episode on full volume while he made himself dinner. It had been a long day today, and so his automatic thought was to listen to you. But now that he was getting into the meat of the episode, he was quickly coming to realize how much trouble he was in. You were playing the song, and it was a direct call out to him to wake the fuck up.

As the song faded to a close, your voice came back on.

"Actually, I was recommended the song by someone I know," you said in the mellow tone you'd been in for the entire episode so far. "I guess I'm just confused and I was wondering if they really meant what they said."

Sunwoo nearly dropped the egg in his hand onto the kitchen floor. Guilt swirled around in the bubbles of the soup in the pot and he frowned down at the rich, creamy liquid.

He sighed, tapping the egg against the counter and cracking its innards into the pot. "Of course, I really meant it," he said as if you could hear him. He wished he had the guts to tell you everything that was going on in his head… As his soup boiled away, he leaned against the empty counter to wait, cradling his head in his hands, groaning. "You're being unfair, Sunwoo."

"...This one's from Peony! They say: almost didn't realize Rhaps Anon wasn't in the last episode until the very end when we hadn't gotten a rec from them. Hope they're doing okay!" Ah, so you weren't the only one who noticed his brief absence. Your sigh filled the apartment, though, he heard the way you tried to force some kind of cheeriness into it. "Yeah, I hope they're doing okay too. But Rhaps'll be back! Let's all wish them well. Fighting!—"

Oh, man. Now he felt even worse.

He really needed to talk to you. Oh god, he really needed to talk to you. If not to confess, then to clear the air and assure you that all was okay on his end. He was just being a coward, and he knew that well enough now.

When his dinner had finished, Sunwoo turned the flame off and headed for his phone on the opposite counter. He lowered the volume as he went in and pulled up his text thread with you.

sunwoo's phone: hey,, i know ur probs busy w the play this week, but is there a possibility for me to see you sometime soon? i wanted to talk to u abt something

He gnawed on his bottom lip as he awaited your answer, until he realized you were probably working. That made him drop his phone and return to his dinner—maybe he just needed to not look, so his anxiety wasn't so high—

His phone buzzed and he bolted back over.

superstar 💫: i think i'll prob have some time saturday morning

EPISODE ELEVEN: [SOMEONE'S LOOKING OUT FOR YOU, LOSERS.]

YOU asked Sunwoo if he'd like to tag along with you as you did some grocery shopping before rehearsal on Saturday morning. His answer had been automatic, and you both agreed to meet each other at the bus stop to ride down to the larger supermarket down the hill together. Even as you stood at the corner of your street waiting for him beneath the overhang, you were trying to come up with possible things he was going to say to you. You had figured, when he’d texted you Wednesday night, that perhaps the best way to go about this would be to make this casual. Hence, why you were forcing yourself to go grocery shopping a day earlier than you usually did.

Casual, in this case, called for “you don’t have stare me in the eyes the entire time,” and to be frank, you were a little too nervous for that kind of setting anyway.

You tugged the edges of your cardigan over you as you heard your name being called from the opposing street. Sunwoo was bounding his way over to you with his arm raised in greeting. You returned the gesture with a soft smile. “Hey.”

He stopped by you, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gray jacket. “Hi,” he said, licking his lips. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

The bus slowed to a halt in front of your stop, and the two of you retrieved your transportation cards to board. “You say that like I wouldn’t have agreed,” you chuckled and tapped your card, Sunwoo following suit.

The two of you managed to find a pair of empty seats near the second half of the vehicle where the exit was for an easy departure when you reached the foot of the hill. But for now, you tucked your bag onto your lap and settled into the window seat, while Sunwoo occupied the one next to you.

You turned your head to gaze out the window and watch the world blur by as you did. The Avenue streets were a tad narrower than most around the university, so the bus traveled as efficiently as it could from stop to stop before turning the block to make its descent. It was technically still morning, and though it was spring, the sky had decided to blanket the sunshine with gray clouds to form an atmosphere that reminded you distinctly of the past winter quarter. Except, instead of thin, empty branches, the streets and walkways were encased in darkening green leaves and falling pink petals, a nod to the short-lived cherry blossom season. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo’s foot start to tap against the ground like Thumper the Rabbit, and you wondered for the millionth time what was going on in that pretty head of his.

“I don’t really understand,” you found yourself saying—his head swiveled—and you turned to look at him, “did I do something wrong?”

Sunwoo stammered, "What? No, it wasn't you! It wasn't your fault at all—I was just—" he sighed, grimacing to himself. "I was just being stupid. And I know that sounds super vague, but the short answer is that I was being stupid and scared and insecure."

Your brows furrowed and you felt the bus come to a gentle stop at the foot of the hill. "Scared and insecure? What's going on; is everything okay?"

You both got up to make a quick exit off the bus and began making the short walk from the bus station into the outdoor shopping center.

There was a jittery bounce to Sunwoo's steps as well as a tension in his shoulders. "Last week," he began, "Jisung told me that he'd just left you at the practice room and that you were probably going to be there awhile."

You nodded, grabbing a basket at the front of the grocery store. That rang a bell for sure. It had been a very long day in the practice room, so you weren't quite sure what direction this was going in yet.

"Well, I wanted to go surprise you and come hang out with you. You know, like, to keep you company." He started scouring the opposite shelf to you in the dried foods aisle, his eyes nervously darting from the BUY ONE, GET ONE pasta noodles deal signs, to your person. "And when I got there, I saw you and Yangyang."

Me and Yangyang…? Oh, me and Yangyang.

It was like a lightbulb went off in your head, and you stopped pretending to look at the overpriced vermicelli noodles on the shelf behind you.

"And you guys were hugging and close and stuff—and by all means! I—I have no problem with that, of course," he added quickly, "I mean, you guys are really close… friends? And I just saw him lean toward you and left because I… I got the message." The latter portion was delivered in a defeated tone as he looked on toward you helplessly and sorrowfully. It was how Sieun described you Tuesday night when you'd seen Sunwoo at the restaurant: a sad sap.

You both stopped moving down the aisle to face each other. In the white, fluorescent supermarket lights, his hair hung in his eyes like his head in embarrassment. You were going to let him finish.

He cupped the back of his head, suddenly feeling so bare before you despite not being physically naked at all. "I thought some space might distinguish or extinguish my feelings for you," he continued, nose wrinkling and lip curling in a wince. "Clearly it didn't help, and I think overall, I realized I wasn't being fair to you—as a friend. And that I was also being the biggest fucking loser ever."

Wait, you were still reeling from the mentions about feelings—

Before you could even address the aforementioned, you had to make something clear first. You felt the corners of your lips lift. "Sunwoo, me and Yangyang really are just friends." At the confused, puppy-dog look in his eyes, you explained further, "That day, Yangyang came by and I made it clear to him that I just saw him as a friend. I felt really awful for feeling like I'd led him on and was going to lose his friendship."

Sunwoo's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and he struggled to come up with the response he wanted. "So… so when he was leaning in toward you…"

"He leaned in and flicked my nose, then almost gave me a nosebleed," you chuckled. You'd given him a very appropriate flick to the forehead after that.

His eyes widened at that. "Well shit. Are you okay?" He asked, and you saw his smile slowly begin to make its appearance, the sun peeking through an overcast sky.

"Yeah, perfectly fine," you dismissed with a flick of your hand. "Especially now. But yeah, we're just friends."

There was a surge of relief in his tense shoulders. "Oh, okay."

He trailed after you as you continued to make your way down this aisle in particular to pick up the things that were on your shopping list.

At one point, he coughed, handing you the jar of red peppers you were reaching for. "So no hard feelings, right? I promise it will be totally back to normal!"

"Normal, as in back to before?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah! To be honest, Dovey, I was just kind of scared that I had lost my chance after waiting so long. I don't know. And I realized that I was just scared to face that fact."

You gauged his reaction and your own heart thundered in your chest. "Scared to face the fact that you'd lost your chance with me?"

"Well, yeah. I—" He stopped and froze like a deer in headlights. And in any other circumstance, you would have been laughing, but he seemed so distraught by what he just admitted to that you tried hard to suppress your amusement. Tried. "I just said that aloud, huh."

Nodding, you grinned fondly. "You did."

He smiled, cute and flustered, cheeks tinted pink. "You're always too easy a person to talk to," he muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I would've said something sooner…" He began.

Something jumped to attention in your brain. Oh no. "Was I giving you mixed signals?" You pursed your lips like you'd just gotten into something sour. "'Cause I swore I thought my attraction to you was clear. And, like, the thing where I totally began rethinking my thoughts about Yangyang when you came into the picture—"

"Wow, so Changmin was right?" Sunwoo made a face, holding his hand against his forehead. "That's crazy."

"Crazy good or…?"

He chuckled, and you couldn't help but admire the twinkle in his eyes as he did. "Crazy so good."

"I don't think people actually say that."

He whined, "Yah, you can't already be clowning me. Not when I just confessed that I like you."

That made you sober up, but you couldn't say the same for your heart rate. Man, your BPM alone could probably power a bullet train… "I like you, too. I hope that's clear."

There you two stood in the middle of the dried foods aisle with twin smiles glowing on your faces, soft and shared. You didn't know what the BOGO pasta was doing, but it was definitely adding to the atmosphere. You had intended for running errands to distract you from whatever Sunwoo had wanted to talk to you about, but clearly that was not the case—it would have never worked like that. You would be damned to have missed something like this. Not with him.

Perhaps he had made a mistake—he was now apologizing and clarifying and trying. You could hear Jihoon's words of wisdom ring loud and clear in your head. There was something perfectly fine about how this turned out.

"No more mixed signals?"

"No more mixed signals," he agreed.

— ✶

The remainder of your errand run with Sunwoo had gone smoothly, and soon, you were both seated side by side once more on the bus up to the University District. Sunwoo had gotten a couple things for his fridge, too, and so you both sat with your grocery bags by each other and your fingers grazing the other. Ever since you had clarified your position with Sunwoo a little over an hour ago, you had been feeling much lighter, your heart skipping for a different reason. You were back to feeling the giddy excitement you always had around him, and especially since you knew he saw you in exactly the same way.

The two of you shared a laugh as you stepped off the bus and onto your block, grocery bags in hand.

“—I’m being completely serious! Apparently I was just snot-nosed wailing into her shirt about being single and forever alone,” Sunwoo guffawed, grinning wide at you as you both stopped to the side of the walkway. “And Eric was pissed, oh my god.”

“I mean, you just kiss-blocked him; kind of understandable,” you mused.

Sunwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Aye, I know. He’s a good guy though. Total loser, but a good loser. He made me hangover soup the next day.”

You let out a laugh, walking slowly with him down toward the entrance of your apartment complex. "That was sweet of him."

He snorted, "A little out of character, but yeah."

"You know," you piped up, "when I was applying and eventually interviewing for the position with Chan and Jihoon, I had no idea what either of them looked like. So I accidentally—woah, shi—"

Somebody coming down the sidewalk toward you crashed into your shoulder and sent you careening toward the sidewalk. Sunwoo swore as you let out a squeak—his arm looping around your waist and hauling you against him to steady you.

He lifted his head in the direction of the person with a glower on his face. "Hey! Dude, watch where you're going!"

"Thanks," you said sheepishly.

He turned to fix you with a smile, and you saw the moment he realized the position you were both in: you pressed firmly up against the side of his body, his arm wrapped around you, your faces so close to one another… He released his hold on you, neck burning as he cupped the back of it. "Heh, yeah. It's no problem. People should just really watch where they're going."

You coughed and nodded your head. "Yeah, for sure."

The pair of you were now in front of your apartment complex once more, reluctant to say goodbye. You wondered if he would ask to spend more time with you, but you had a feeling that he wouldn't want to intrude on your time any longer. It wasn't like he was intruding to you, but it was just a feeling you had about him. He wanted to respect your time.

And, well, you both had groceries to put away.

"So I'll uh, talk to you soon then?" You asked him, holding your grocery bags in front of you.

He peered at you through his lashes. "Definitely."

"This morning turned out way better than I thought it would, to be honest."

"Yeah no, same here," he echoed. "I'm just glad you actually gave me another chance."

You reached over and gave his shoulder a playful punch. "How could I not? I've always believed in you."

That seemed to ignite something inside of him. He jutted his bottom lip out and whined, "Oh my god, you can't just say that! You're so—wah."

You giggled, watching him squirm like he was being jolted by electricity. "Hey man, sometimes you've gotta be straightforward."

"Yeah, I know." He sobered slightly and took a step forward. Your heart clambered around in your chest and rattled your ribcage. There was this look in his eyes that made you glance at his lips—his perfect, plush, pink lips.

You held still, held your whole fucking breath, as he turned his head and kissed your cheek. It was feather-light, barely there, and yet, all the heat in your body seemed to rush to that single spot in a millisecond.

When he pulled away, his voice was soft. "How's that for straightforward?"

EPISODE TWELVE: ONE LOVE SONG CAN'T CONVEY HOW I FEEL FOR YOU, SO HERE'S TWENTY—

SUNWOO imagined that he looked as cartoonish as any man in love could. There had to be hearts in eyes, hearts around his head, hearts on a glittery pink trail that carried him everywhere he went. He giggled to himself as he fished his house keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door to let himself in.

"Oh my god. We've properly lost him."

With a loud, war-like AHHH!, Sunwoo yelped and nearly dropped his groceries, struggling to hold the bags to his chest as he pressed himself against the back of the front door. His apartment filled with high-pitched cackles of delight.

Though his heart was going through about a million cartwheels a second, he managed to force the fear from his eyes as embarrassment flooded his system. He flared his nostrils, frowning and tipping his head against the door. "I hate you guys!"

"You should hate Eric for giving JC!Yn your apartment key," Changmin wheezed, slapping his hands together and rolling around on the living room carpet as he pointed and laughed at Sunwoo's absolute misery. "You should've seen your face!"

Chanhee was on the couch with his legs curled up into his chest as he had his phone out, recording the entire thing. "This one's going in the drunk Sunwoo folder."

"Yah, I'm not even drunk!"

Chanhee shrugged. "It's become your general meme folder now. We should probably rename it."

Sunwoo whipped his head toward JC!Yn, who was seated on the opposite end of the couch with an amused smile on her face. "Noona! Are you just gonna let them bully me like this?"

Her smile widened. "Sorry, Sunwoo, but we didn't think you would miss us completely when you came in."

He let out a loud groan, fragging himself over to the kitchen so he could set the grocery bags on the counter and begin to unload them. "What're you guys doing here anyways? Isn't it Saturday morning? Where's Kei?" He asked, unloading a carton of juice from the bag and slotting it into the fridge.

Kei was JC!Yn's roommate, and the two girls always went on a grocery shopping date every Saturday morning with Changmin and Chanhee. They often made Changmin drive since he had the biggest car, and grocery shopping was an exclusive event that only the four of them were allowed to partake in. Eric, Sunwoo, and even Jacob had expressed distaste at that elitism. One of these days, they were bound to let someone else join… right?

But regardless, that always meant that Saturday mornings were occupied for them. So why were three-quarters of the group currently invading Sunwoo's apartment?

Changmin sat up from his place on the floor and fixed Sunwoo with a grin that made him nervous. "We dropped her off at their place, and we did go shopping this morning, but you'll never guess the curious thing we witnessed while we were there." His giggles sent a doom-like shiver down Sunwoo's spine.

Then it clicked.

Sunwoo abruptly stopped taking dried noodle packages out of the grocery bag. "You're kidding."

A snort from Chanhee. "Oh, you wish."

Sunwoo bashed his head against his sweater-covered palms. "No."

"Yes!" Changmin shrieked.

"I didn't know you guys went to that supermarket!" Sunwoo wailed, throwing his head back toward the ceiling. "You guys saw us?"

JC!Yn rested her chin against her arm as she leaned over the back of the couch to face him. "We heard you, too. I'm glad you decided to own up to your chicken-ness. See? Wasn't so scary after all."

Well, he couldn't exactly agree with that. But he also couldn't disagree with it. He'd been so scared he was about to lose your friendship then for being so insecure for no reason. A simple clarifying question could have saved the both of you so much strife. But the conversation also reaped rewards: your mutual confessions.

He sulked and didn't say anything.

"It was cute though, Sunwoo-ah," said Chanhee with a teasing lilt to his smile.

"And also," Changmin cut in, "what do you mean 'so Changmin was right? That's crazy?!'"

Sunwoo snorted. "Now that, I have nothing to say to."

"So what's the deal now?" JC!Yn asked. "Are you two dating now or…?"

Oh. Another long pause, then— "Oh my god, you didn't ask her out?"

"Hey! Listen!" Sunwoo yelled in an attempt to defend himself.

"We're listening." Chanhee folded his arms over his chest with a less than impressed look on his face. He scoffed. "I can't believe you pull."

"Shut up!"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet—how can he pull?" Changmin quipped back with frenzied gesticulations.

Sunwoo groaned as he flopped over the counter. He couldn't believe he was having such a good morning, and now he was being berated once more for his stupidity. How could he not ask you out? It was right there! The opportunity had presented itself a multitude of times, and yet, why was he still here, dateless?

Then there came the thought of how to go about this. There was a part of him who thought that just asking you was probably fine. But the other part remembered how much he liked you—so texting was simply not an option. It had to have some pizzazz, a bit of oomph, to it.

"We can see the gears turning in your head, Sunwoo," said JC!Yn. "What's on your mind, bub?"

Sunwoo looked up from where he had smattered himself onto the kitchen counter like a pancake. "I have no rizz."

Chanhee coughed. "Well, that's not news."

Sunwoo sent him a scowl. "How should I ask her out? I kind of want it to be special, you know?"

"Hmm." JC!Yn pursed her lips, tapping her chin in thought. "The other day, I was talking to Sangyeon about music or something or other, and he showed me the playlist he'd made his girlfriend—"

"His fake girlfriend," Changmin corrected with a little smirk.

She rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Lee Sangyeon is not sad enough to make fake playlists for his fake girlfriend." It was a known inside joke amongst the friend group that Sangyeon had a "secret girlfriend" stashed away somewhere. A few of them liked to joke that she either didn't actually exist or that he kept her locked in his laundry machine or something. Mostly, though, they just wanted to know if he actually was single or not. What was the point of keeping her a secret anyway?

The slight change in victim brought Sunwoo's mood up. "What about the playlist, noona?"

She blinked, turning her attention back to her original train of thought. "Oh, right. What if you made her one of those cute, romantic playlists?"

The four of them exchanged glances with one another. It was a silent form of communication, one that had one uniform thought running through the wire.

— ✶

You'd received a text from Sunwoo about thirty minutes ago asking if he could stop by your apartment to drop off something of yours. Apparently, in the madness of the checkout aisle at the grocery store, he had accidentally "stolen" one of your cans of chicken noodle soup.

You hadn't bought chicken noodle soup though.

This was why you now anxiously awaited his arrival for the real reason he wanted to stop by. You had literally just seen him about an hour or two ago, but you'd be lying if you said you were happy at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. Your cheek still seared from his kiss.

As if he could read your thoughts, you heard a loud series of knocks at the door.

"Coming!" You called, hustling over from your living space area and over to the door.

After peeking through the peephole, you definitely saw Sunwoo, but what he was holding was nowhere near the likeness of a can of chicken noodle soup.

In a hurry, you ripped the door open, lips parted at the bundle of bright colored blooms in his hands. Sunflowers and carnations and lilies and roses—

He peered out sheepishly from behind the bouquet with his other hand occupied by his open phone. "Hi," he peeped.

"Hey," you exhaled, a grin fighting its way onto your face.

"If I made you a playlist, would you go out with me?"

You blinked, heartbeat rocketing into high gear. "Sunwoo," you started with a disbelieving laugh, "you don't have to—"

His thumb lowered onto a button on his phone. "Whoopsies, already did it."

Right on cue, you heard your phone buzz from your pocket. Curious, you withdrew it and opened the text message from him with a link to a Spotify playlist entitled: "One love song can't convey how I feel for you, so here's twenty."

You could have melted into a puddle of ooey-gooey goodness. "Sunwoo," you lamented, smiling way too wide now.

He beamed back at you. "What do you say?"

You shook your head, throwing your arms around him as he laughed and hugged you back. "You're so cute. Yes, I'll go out with you."

He gave you a little, warm squeeze. "Oh, thank god. I thought I was gonna die from anticipation."

You laughed and smiled into his shoulder. When you pulled away, your hand gently reached for the side of his face. "What if I kissed you right now?"

His eyes widened a smidge. "What if you wha--"

You cut him off and pressed your lips to his briefly, then pulled back.

"Wait, wait. Come back here," he murmured, chasing after you and crushing his mouth against yours. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect. The feel of his lips, the smell of his cologne, the firmness of his shoulders beneath your grip and the perfect pressure as you both sealed the deal with a kiss.

The two of you pulled away at the same time with labored breaths, foreheads meshed together as you caught your breath.

"You're not gonna turn this into a podcast episode, are you?" He asked, voice low and raspy, yet laced in a playful tonic.

You teased him right back. "As long as it doesn't end poorly."

He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations of his laugh against your lips. "Then I guess I'll just have to make it the best date ever."

"Don't worry," you said with a cheeky hand on his chest, "I believe in you."

With a laugh, he grazed his lips over yours again. "Thanks, superstar."

a/n: hihi!! thanks so much for reading <3 if you enjoyed, i would deeply appreciate a comment, reblog, or an ask to tell me what u thought about it! much love, onto kevin's !!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @hibernatinghamster @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @kflixnet

[jmdbjk]

Make assumptions and get the wrong idea. Please. That's what he said.

My brain listening to Who:

(on the beat of course)

Sorry for the brain porn but that's how my brain feels when I hear Jimin's vocals. The runs, the ad libs, the highs, lows, and in-betweens, the breathing, especially the breathing. Especially in the 4K version of the Tonight Show performance posted on BangtanTV.

For many years now I've been wanting to hear Jimin let 'er rip on a big song and FINALLY! FINALLY!

FINALLY!

I started to jot down my interpretations of Who but you know what? no one needs yet another analyzation of the song, the lyrics, the MV, the belt sharing, the ... but one thing I need to point out... Ryan's Vintage Clothes is definitely a nod to Ryan Gosling don't you think? (just kidding sorta)

A ton of people have given their dissertations on what they think it all means. All I know is Jimin has that MAGIC and he is FLEXING big time.

This is my favorite shot from the most recent promo image drop on Weverse. I have always dissented when Jimin would say his left side is his best side. No sir. It's your right side.

The entire Muse album is a complete mind-bender for me. He came up with the ideas and themes and what he couldn't do on his own, he explained to all the people helping him in order to create his vision...

PDogg said this in an interview: "I also believe the experience of collaborating with various producers and songwriters in LA and NY gave Jimin the opportunity to further explore his limitless potential."

Minseong Kim (Performance Director): "When we were working together, I saw Jimin putting a lot of thought into delivering the song's choreography as a visual art form. He uses his detailed expressions to convey various artistic elements in the performance beyond simply presenting stylish, energetic choreography. He is always devoted to emphasizing the artistic elements of the performance by forming a visceral connection to it. I believe that his commitment and passion has shaped Jimin's unique style and allows him to deliver one of the most exciting performances in pop music."

and:

"We had countless discussions about how to visually articulate the story and message of the song through the performance on a larger scale, in a manner that's true to the song's title Who. When the choreography was completed Jimin was utterly pleased with the performance having all the elements he had wished to incorporate."

You can read the entire VMAGAZINE article here.

Regarding the other songs on the album, in MiniMoniMusic Exchange, Jimin mentioned that Rebirth was his favorite track. I do love it too, Jimin. The heartbeat, the poignancy. Perfection.

And I have to compare Be Mine to Seven. In Jungkook's Seven, the explicit version was so very literal and so in your face it was funny, even the MV added to the unserious vibe of it all.

But in Jimin's, Be Mine, he has probably the most erotic lyric I've ever heard coming out of the mouth of a Tannie: "... a hot island, a party with just the two of us; I know what you want and baby I want the same; love ‘til the morning; we just keep fallin’... baby come, baby come; show me what, show me what love is, yeah yeah; melt me hot, hot, hot quickly"

I am streaming all the versions of all the songs and album. I absolutely love it.

Now that I got that out of my system...

It's been about a year (??!?!?) since Jungkook's Only Fans debut live stream. Time is flying.

We are anticipating gaining more context soon surrounding exactly what went down between them the prior two weeks to this live and what did Jimin mean when he said he "can handle it? (Are you sure you wanna know?)

There is a high possibility we might get some jikook carpool karaoke.

The main trailer drops Monday. Hold on to your ... whatever it is you hold on to when you get shook because I'm sure it'll be another earthquake on the timeline.

All lyrics translations credit: © 2024 by Learn Korean With Sel www.learnkoreanwithsel.com/

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Salvatore | 2.8k

ao3 | masterlist ✦ Pairing: DI!Leon Kennedy x younger f! reader ✦ Summary: Leon's on a working trip and it has been taking much longer than it should. As he doesn't like to spend much time away from you, he texts you daily, and since you miss him so deeply, you decide to videocall him. ✦ TW: NSFW, !MINORS DNI!, smut, porn with bit of context, explicit, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, masturbation, fingering, age gap mentions, daddy ass Leon

A/N: I have nothing to say in my defense, but that this might have two parts. Cause Leon's flying back home and dunno, you're still horny af, plus I wasn't sure of how to correctly incorporate the song to the post buttt I think Salvatore is my top 1 Leon song. So!

A disgrace of a man he had become ever since he met you, fell under your spell. Leon wasn’t used to staying away from you for this long — the trip was taking longer than expected. A week ago he had flown to Washington for the meeting of annual reports on DSO’s damage control. This type of trip did not usually take more than one or two days, and he had assured you that he would be back by the weekend. He had promised, you made plans and he usually did not breach the promises he made to you; he didn't like to fluster you. You were too good to him, he’d always tell you that. Too good, so good. You wouldn’t complain about his absence, you knew he was a busy man, a well-trained and well-requested agent — your much older boyfriend.

Every time that word danced on your red beautiful lips, he swore to feel a punch in the lower portion of his belly. Was he not too old to be dating in the most vivid sense of the word? To have a girl as young, beautiful, lively as you call someone like him a boyfriend? You liked to say, to recite; it made you delighted to watch the reactions, no: the age difference was never a problem for you.

It was a problem to him in the beginning. Leon resisted; he tried to resist you for longer than he could remember. Weeks maybe. He felt defeated, weak for giving up, but how could he not? When your eyes would met his with that devilish expression, all his control fell to the ground — he was yours.

The room door opened, and he made his way in. It was a spacious room, at least; a quality hotel. You would love that place, he thought. The luxurious furniture, the soft linen and the numerous pillows – the privileged view of the White House. He opened a corner smile as he thought of your reaction if you were there. You were one expensive little thing; before anything else, he took his phone out of his pocket and took a picture out of the window. He sent to your contact, affectionately saved by yourself as bae. 

Your status immediately changed to “online” when your phone rang and you noticed it was his text you were receiving. On the other side of the country, you opened up a foolish little smile lying on your bed. “Like it, doll?” his text said, and your smile grew wide.

You rolled down lying on your belly, and typed your answer.

“Don’t do that to me... I’d sell a kidney to be there with you right now.” you typed, and opened a smile knowing that you had ripped out a sincere laugh from him with your little hyperbole.

Leon laughed briefly. Your mood was indeed extremely funny to him, jokes that sometimes you would have to explain after doing, since the difference between generations was a barrier to the two of you at least in that matter. 

The agent left his already half tired body fall on the armchair that lay in front of the bed, large enough for at least three of him. The blue blazer that decorated his body was quickly thrown aside and he dropped down a few buttons of the white social shirt that came down below, the first portions of his now visible defined chest decorated by the blonde hair that grew around there. As he stretched out to the stand table — a small bar with a few varieties of whisky — and started pouring himself a good cup of Bourbon, his phone rang again. 

After the first drop came down burning through his throat, he opened the latest message you had sent. “Can I call you?”, it was asking.

He licked his lips tasting the taste of alcohol in his mouth, and pressed the FaceTime video call button. It took no more than three seconds for you to respond. 

His eyes were fixed on the screen of his phone. God in fucking heaven, it was a torture to see you like that, he thought. A torture. You were lying on your bed, overlooked; your hair was slightly messy, your pyjamas fell perfectly on your curves, the delicate silk fabric outlined your body like a sculpture drawn particularly to fuck his mind. He opened a smile when he saw the view of you, the lower of his belly kicking in just again. Seeing you like that, laying ever so beautiful, your body so exposed, in a situation like the one he was in right now: unable of touching, unable of even seeing you straight. That was somewhat torture.

“How are you, babe? You look tired.” You asked, resting your face on your hand, a small smile decorating your lips. Leon drank another long sip of his whisky. 

“It’s nothing, doll. This hell of a meeting, is all...” he murmured, crossing his legs and mindfully staring at you behind the screen. “I’m sorry, I won’t make it to the weekend.”

“Oh no...” You shuddered back, your look becoming frustrated in a matter of seconds. “Why are they holding you, did something happen?” You asked furrowing your eyebrows; it was your habit to ask, even if you knew he’d never give an answer.

“You know I can’t talk to you about that, darling...” He murmured, with a slightly defeated smile on his face, and continued, “I’ll be there Sunday night. I promised.” 

You sigh,frustrated and defeated sigh, but agreed. As always, how good you were to him. The silence only lasted for a few seconds before he spoke again in a calm and quiet tone.

“Are you mad at me?”

“I can’t be mad at you. It’s not even your fault...” You argued, shrugging your shoulders quickly, and your eyes focused for a few seconds on the open part of his shirt – a silent invitation. 

“You’re so good to me. I’ll compensate you, I promise.” he said in that soft spoken, deep voice.

He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew exactly what he did to you, how he would put you in your place, how it would make you squirm in want and lust and call for him in your dreams whenever he was that far from you. 

There, dropped in that chair, Leon held the cell phone at the height of his knee, his eyes looking down to where his eyes found him behind the screen; he rested one hand on his face, in the encounter of his jaw with his neck. 

You could follow the well-defined drawings of his chest through the little exposed skin by the already undone buttons, his biceps that seeming to ask to explode out through all that fabric. Your eyes went down through his chest to the path of heaven that made the encounter between his belly and his crotch. You bite your own tongue. If you closed your eyes now, you could perfectly imagine how you would make him twist in your mouth. What a mess.

“You can compensate me now.” you said, after licking your lips. How could you taste the alcohol of his mouth on yours, if the two of you were more than kilometers away? How could he fuck up your head to make himself printed on you like that? 

“How would I do that, babe? Can’t eat you out through the phone.” he smirked, a little smile spreading across his lips noticing your eagerness for him. You were such a fucking fool - couldn’t hide a single feeling, damn.

You slowly flashed, and then got up a little bit by placing your phone in front of your pillow so that you could film yourself without using your hands. Leon raised his eyebrows in surprise when you slowly took your hand through the soft skin of your belly now exposed through the tiny shirt you wore, and began to raise it, gently, almost so slowly that you could now feel his excitement emanating from his look; his eyes burning, his stomach twirling inside in desire. It didn’t take you much to get him on the edge as you so knew from the plenty of times he couldn’t wait for the two of you to get home before fucking the brains out of you against the first car, table or wall he’d see.

“Can’t you? You seem like you are right now.” You smirked, and your hand went further up, beneath the thin fabric of your shirt. You palmed your breast and he could see the shape of your flesh changing as you tightened, more, stronger. Leon stretched his fists, almost able to feel the warm skin of your breasts against him; he could almost feel himself tracing kisses through your neck, bites, leaving marks that you would spend makeup trying to erase. Cupping your breast with his perfect-sized hand, suckling, making you squirm under him.

“Doll,” he said in a slightly alarmed tone. “Don’t do that to me. Don’t torture me like this.” He whispered, his blue eyes like the sea attached to the screen, to you. 

To your body, that he knew: belonged to him. You made that clearer when you started to climb the shirt even further, until you finally crossed it through your neck and threw it to the side. He couldn’t see your face anymore, only your body – you soft breasts, the inviting skin of your belly, the curves that formed your waist, those delicious hips, devilish thighs. You started becoming more and more drenched the more you showed more of yourself to him.

“Please... I need you so fucking much.” you pleaded, your voice muffled by the sounds of your panting.

You liked the obscene look he played at you when he saw you that way. One of your hands continued to massage one of your breasts, your nipples began to express the intensity of your own desire as punctual as they could be; you felt shrinking whole when your free hand began to descend through the lines that surrounded your uterus to the lower belly, inside the tiny, thin short you dared to call a pyjama. 

“You’ll kill me.” He replied licking his lips, his hand reached the remaining buttons of his shirt and he opened it completely. You could see by the emerging volume in his pants that you were not the only one burning in desire right now. Leon grabbed the volume of the bulge in his pants with one hand, in a frustrated attempt to ease the tension; the movement caused his breath to shrink for a moment and he released a low, needy moan. 

“Spread them for me, babe let me see you.” he told you, and you took it in.

You slowly sat on the bed, spreading up your legs as he had asked you, supporting your feet by the bed on the sides of the phone, completely exposed; the fabric of your shorts, alone, was not able to prevent Leon from seeing the perfect curves of your folds, the small well that formed in the fabric in your cunt. He opened up an almost demonic smile. You were not wearing panties.

“Oh, fuck, babe...” He moaned, his hands beginning to shake off the belt of his social pants. “Move it aside for me...” he asked, almost in a flustered sigh, as he let the belt fall freely on the sides of his body and unbuttoned the zipper of his pants with some hurry. At the moment he finally relaxed and released a desperate breath, you could see the perfect format of his cock ever so big, stretching the fabric of his white boxers. You felt your mouth salivate instinctively, and held back a moan of excitement. With one of your arms, you supported your elbow behind you, bending your body back and with your free hand, you pulled aside the central part of your shorts, exposing to him your needy, wet pussy. Your fingers traced a way through your folds to the core of your pleasure - your throbbing and twitching clit. 

Your face flushed in redness as you let your head fall back, but quickly bringing it back to staring at your phone where you could already see Leon’s hard cock twitching through the camera; in addition to your excruciating and burning desire, you could see the entire length, could picture yourself swallowing every inch of his right now. 

“See how you get me? You little evil thing… Play yourself to me, come on, do your

show…” He growled in a hoarse voice, slowly spitting at the glistening tip of his member, reddened by the need and the blood pulsating, his skin burning. “I’d go to that airport and advance my flight just to fuck you, god…” he continued, while his hand rushed from the tip to the base of his cock, spreading his spit through the length and starting to pump in slow alluring movements.

You couldn’t hold yourself from moaning near that man, you could barely hold your breath - your movements became instinctive when you were with him. Whenever he’d be behind you in the kitchen, mornings after a good night out - he’d call himself an oldie and complain about being tired, and the second next proceed to pin you against the counter and eat you up from behind. Just the thought of his tongue against you made you squirm on your own hand, circling movements starting by your index and middle fingers against your sensible clit. 

The muffled moans of his, your panting voice, the little sound he’d make each time his hand ran through his cock - the two of you got lost in the act, you could almost forget there was an entire country between you and him. The way you’d lose it when he started praising you-

“Good… So good to me, come to me, c’mon”, ah. There it was.

Your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and you instinctively drawn your hand further lower towards your drenched entrance, stretching yourself, feeling the warmth of your walls that so needily called for him. You couldn’t possibly elaborate a single sentence right now, as your head was up in the sky; Leon had taught you to torture yourself. To hold back till you could no more, to try to postpone your orgasm till you felt your own body breaking down, losing conscience. 

He felt himself getting a raw, wild need once he noticed you were in that state he liked to put you in anytime he’d have time to fuck you straight, without a hurry, without the need of being a quickie. Squirming, panting, your body begging you to give in - god. 

His movements started to rush up watching the way your folds glistened through the low lightning of your room, your juices rushing down your thighs, the way you couldn’t watch him without your cheeks looking like burning fire on want and desire. 

His throat closed and he let his head fall back, for a moment, he got uncontrolled and erratic, his movements so strong you could hear a slight hint of pain in his voice, his stomach started flexing and he grabbed on tight to the chair’s arm, your name came out as a growl as he held to the base of his cock, letting out all of his milky seed spread against his chest, that moved constantly and erratically to his heavy breathing. 

Watching him get to his climax was too much for yourself and your personal tactic of torture. As you felt the ravenous feeling of your orgasm start to spread through your thighs, up your belly and down your pussy to the core of your pleasure, you let out, above all things, a soft moan - his name. Your voracious breath got in tune with his, as you bite your lip, your eyes ever so alluring boring into his through the screen, your obscene expression and smile as you pulled your fingers into your mouth and sucked onto them, tasting your own juices, feeling the living proof of your own pleasure.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He muttered, staring into you like a predator while you closed your legs and let out a little content laugh.

-

Leon picked up your call while dragging his baggage through the airport ways to the boarding line. A smile formed across his lips. 

“Little darling, I can’t really talk right now… I’m getting to the boarding line, my flight’s in about thirty minutes.” he argued, to which you just smiled.

“I just called to wish you a good flight, bae, that’s all.” You responded. “I’m waiting for you.”

“No no, don’t do that. Don’t stay awake waiting for me, yeah? I’ll be there soon enough, I promise.” 

“You know that no matter what you say, I’m going to do the exact opposite. Right? Right, Agent?”, you let out a soft laugh.

He sighed, closing his eyes.

“I know.”