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sunshineyuyu · 5 months ago

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chained (c. jh)

★ summary: jongho wears a silver chain that you’re obsessed with, and you finally get his attention after some calculated flirting with yunho and some beer pong. ★ pairing: jongho x f!reader (ft. yunho) ★ genre: friends to lovers, college, smut (mdni!) ★ word count: 5.4k ★ tags/warnings: alcohol consumption, vaginal fingering, jongho calls reader babygirl and yunho calls reader princess, features friend!san and previous hookup!yunho, some jealousy/tension, reader also kinda uses yunho… but he’s okay with it, lowercase ★ notes: beta’d by the bestie @starhwas-bunny. there may or may not be a yunho prequel coming soon hehehehe. also please let me know if i’ve missed any warnings! ★ masterlist | read on ao3 | part 2

you feel your eyelids droop, heavy from the burden of attempting to stay away in this godforsaken class. it doesn’t help that the seats in this lecture hall are so damn comfortable: plush and tall enough for full back and neck support and a slight give that lets you lean back. you’re one lecture slide away from calling it a day—even though class started just ten minutes ago—when you feel something at your left shoulder.

it’s choi jongho, leaning closer towards you over the armrest dividing your seats.

hot, attractive choi jongho, with broad shoulders and strong arms and thick thighs.

you stare adamantly at your laptop screen, at the blank google doc open, at the blinking cursor teasing you for almost falling asleep. you focus on literally anything except jongho’s overwhelming presence at your side–the subtle scent of his musky shampoo, his hot breath fanning over your shoulder.

the silver chain that he normally hides behind the collar of his shirt hangs out, dangling in a way that has you imagining a different scenario: your string lights illuminating the outline of his body while he presses you into the mattress with his weight, one hand gripping your waist and the other on the headboard, that goddamn silver chain swinging above you while he—

“late night last night?” jongho says, voice low because you’re in class, and deliciously deep. it’s unintentionally sultry, and you find yourself squeezing your thighs together.

“shut up,” you say. “i was finishing an essay.”

jongho hums, and you start to aimlessly copy down the words of the lecture slide. you know that jongho sees right through you; the slides will be posted online later, so there’s no point regurgitating the content.

but you cannot let yourself look at jongho, because you’d probably try to kiss him right then and there.

“weren’t you with yunho?” he says.

“not like that,” you grit out. “we’re just in the same class so he was helping me.”

jongho hums, and he finally returns to the confines of his own seat. you let out a breath of relief. you continue copying down words from the powerpoint, even letting yourself tune into the professor’s voice; at least you’re wide awake now, a nagging feeling of want coursing through you.

you feel a nudge at your other elbow. this presence is comfortable, familiar. it’s san, your first friend at university who is conveniently the same major as you. even though he’s just as big and built as jongho, he’s less intimidating. he’s soft and nice, and he’s showing you a topical meme on his phone from some computer science joke twitter account.

unfortunately, jongho notices san’s phone turned towards you and leans over again, except this time he’s closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as he tries to make sure he’s also included in the joke.

“i don’t get it,” he says.

“it’s because you’re not actually a computer science major,” you say, rolling your eyes and pushing jongho back into his seat—you exert more effort than you anticipated because of how solid jongho is.

“tsk,” jongho says. “at least i actually understand what’s going on in this class.”

this shuts you up, and you go back to glaring at your laptop and reformatting your bullets because you’ve already lost track of the lecture.

you last another fifteen minutes of attempting to pay attention, before you resign yourself to scrolling through instagram and mentally planning how you can coerce jongho into sharing his immaculately organized notes.

in the final minute of class, the whole class begins unceremoniously packing up, even though the professor is still droning on about greedy algorithms. everyone shuffles out of their row and through the doors at the back of the lecture hall, and jongho falls into step with san, talking about working on the homework tonight. you walk a step behind them, because your legs are shorter and because you want plausible deniability while admiring the shear breadth of jongho’s shoulders.

you leave the lecture hall, and san heads to the academic quad for his next class.

“see you later,” you say to him and jongho, who usually has to work at the library after class, but you notice him following you to the coffeehouse.

“don’t you have work?” you say.

“i changed my schedule,” jongho says. “are you gonna go work at the cafe?”

you nod, and he follows you to the campus coffeehouse where you stand in a fifteen minute line. jongho only gets drip coffee, so you end up ordering something frivolous to make the wait worth it. the two of you squeeze into a small table in the corner, your knees constantly brushing against each other as you read over the essay you wrote last night in a red bull induced haze.

most of it is thankfully salvageable, and the hit of caffeine helps you.

every once in a while, you find yourself glancing over the top of your laptop at jongho. at the lines of concentration etched into his handsome, tanned face. how his hair is getting scruffy and how he pouts when he’s deep in thought.

you’re so hopelessly in love with choi jongho.

at some point, he gets up to get a napkin, and when he returns, he doesn’t sit back down in his own seat. no—instead he hovers behind you, invading your space with one hand on the back of your chair and the other stretched onto the table to keep himself stable.

and that chain—that goddamn silver chain dances over your shoulder again.

“what do you want?” you mumble, skin prickling at the sensation of his proximity.

“this is not bad,” jongho says, eyes skimming over your essay.

“what’s with the tone of surprise?” you retort.

jongho shrugs. “just thought you would’ve been distracted last night.”

you finally chance a look at him, if only to stare at him puzzled until it finally clicks. you shove him off—subconsciously admiring, once again, just how solid he feels.

“for the last time,” you say. “it’s not like that. yunho’s just a friend.”

jongho sits back down, patting the napkin on a part of his laptop.

“good.”

you stop typing and gape at jongho, who’s returned to focusing on his own work. did he- did he just—? your brain works at miles a minute, offering bold assumptions and then instantly refuting them and then rebutting those and then raising new anxieties and then being hopeful and then—

you spend the rest of the time at the coffeehouse overanalyzing one word you’re not even sure you heard.

⋆⋆⋆

the three of you are sat around the coffee table in the living room of jongho and san’s apartment on the west side of campus. their apartment has become the haven for your discrete math class, where jongho blesses you and san with his knowledge in a class he’s taking pass/fail that isn’t even a major requirement for him. their apartment also has plenty of alcohol for when the nights get particularly rough and a good stash of unhealthy stacks.

it’s 1 am now, and the three of you have finished three out of five of the homework questions, eaten five packets of ramen, two sleeves of strawberry pocky, downed six bottles of yakult, and watched an eighteen minute youtube video theorizing that bakugou might become the second user of one for all.

you’d consider this a productive night.

now, you’re perched on the couch, san leaning against your legs while you play with his hair. it’s softer than yours, which frustrates you to no end because you know for a fact that he uses 5-in-1—how are there even five things to incorporate into one bottle?

jongho’s in the kitchen, contemplating a late night—or early morning—beer.

“seonghwa’s throwing a party this weekend,” jongho says, when he returns with another bottle of yakult instead of the beer. the bottle is already small, but it’s positively dwarfed by the size of his hands.

“if seonghwa’s hosting, then yunho will be there,” jongho continues. he looks pointedly at you.

“i thought,” you say, tugging a little on san’s hair and earning a sharp shout of pain, “we established that i don’t. like. yunho.””

“but didn’t you hook up with him?” san says, removing himself from your vindictive fingers and rubbing his scalp. as he sits up to look at you, he instantly regrets bringing up this point as you glare daggers at him. he’s not wrong; you and yunho had hooked up once, at the birthday party of an acquaintance, after seeing jongho chatting up some other pretty girl.

“you guys hooked up?” jongho says, breaking the stare-off you’re having with san for betraying your trust like that.

“it didn’t mean anything,” you say quickly, glancing up at jongho and double-taking at the shadow that’s fallen over his expression. how his jaw looks tensed and his eyes narrowed.

“but you guys hooked up,” he repeats.

“just the one time,” you say, not quite understanding why it feels like you’re being accused of something far worse than a hookup between two consenting and single adults. “we were high and he was just there and it happened.”

“when?” jongho says, continuing the interrogation and maintaining eye contact with you while san switches his attention between the two of you, the instigator but certainly not the mediator of this conversation.

“at yeji’s birthday party,” you say.

“so that’s why we had to pick you up from the burger place on 8th,” jongho says. “because you were at his place.”

“yeah,” you say. “but it literally does not matter because i don’t like him. we’re just friends, and i’m not gonna hook up with him again.”

jongho stares at you.

“good.”

there it is again. that word, said under his breath. barely there, but enough that you feel a mix of doubt and hope.

you hate it.

“hey!” san says, forcefully cheerful in a way that means he’s trying to change the subject to diffuse the situation. “i found another my hero theory video. the one has 100k views!”

you drop jongho’s gaze first, letting your attention shift to the video san has pulled up on his laptop. “i just don’t think my hero is that deep,” you sigh, trying to ignore the way you can still feel jongho’s eyes on you.

“well, 100 thousand people do,” san sniffs. “including me.”

finally, jongho takes the bait. “how long is it?” he asks.

“thirty minutes!” san says cheerfully.

you and jongho both groan, but dutifully allow san to press play.

over the next thirty minutes, you tune in and out of the overdramatic video as you turn over the previous conversation in your head. you can’t help but read into the situation: clearly jongho is bothered that you’re close with yunho and hooked up with him once. in fact, he’s so bothered that you could even interpret it as being… jealous.

but if he is, why doesn’t he do anything about it?

you’re half asleep by the time the video ends. san nudges you and gives you an sheepish, apologetic smile.

“it’s late,” he says. “do you want us to drive you home?”

“nah,” you say. “can i just stay over? i’m too tired to move.”

it’s not your first time staying over. your apartment is on the other side of campus, so after most long nights of working you sleep on the couch. san lets you borrow the same old high school volleyball shirt every time, and you slip into it and pull off your jeans. the shirt is thankfully long enough to cover your butt, and the no-pants thing has never been a problem.

until now, when you step out of the bathroom, and jongho’s just entering his bedroom, and he looks at you. you clearly see his eyes roam down your legs before springing back up to meet yours.

“let me get you a pillow and blanket,” he says, voice gruff and deep.

“san’s getting—”

“let me get you a pillow and blanket,” he repeats.

it feels like an olive branch, and you fall asleep surrounded by jongho’s scent. distinctly masculine and musky and oddly soothing.

⋆⋆⋆

when you wake up the next morning, it’s to the sound of whirring from the kitchen. from your spot on the couch, you can vaguely make out the blurry shape of someone in the kitchen. your hand flails around the coffee table, blindly slapping until you find your glasses and shove them onto your face.

it’s jongho, wearing gray sweats and no shirt, leaning against the counter while making coffee. you take the time to admire his back, feeling your cheeks warm as you do. in all honesty, you’re surprised that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him shirtless, and you’d be dumb not to take advantage of it.

you run your eyes over the contours of the muscles in his back, the way they flex and ripple as he crosses and uncrosses his arms.

you yawn and wipe at the sleep still in your eyes. this noise gets to jongho, and he turns around. this action draws a sound out of you, something that comes from the back of your throat, somewhere between a gasp and a groan. because jongho—

jongho’s shirtless, and he’s facing you, his naked torso completely exposed to you. you stare at that goddamn silver chain, nestled against his substantial chest. at the miles and miles of smooth, tanned skin and his fucking arms.

you clap a hand over your mouth and pretend to yawn again.

“you want coffee?” jongho calls.

“yeah,” you manage to say, while laying back onto your back and averting your eyes to the ceiling.

a little while later, you hear jongho pad towards you and you sit back up again. he gives you a mug of coffee and sits down at the opposite end of the couch, leaning back and stretching out his offensively nice upper body. the light from outside peeks in from the blinds of the large balcony windows and bathes his skin in golden stripes.

“is san—?”

“he’s at his 8 am,” jongho says. “when’s your first class again?”

“not until 10:45,” you say. “i’m gonna go home and shower and stuff first.”

“i’ll give you a ride,” jongho says.

you protest politely, mostly because you don’t know if you’ll be able to stand being in such a small space with him, especially when he drives a sleek black mercedes with silky black leather that’s just begging for someone to ruin with some steamy car sex.

but jongho manages to convince you that he needs to drop by the convenience store on the east side of campus anyway, so you find yourself following him down to the apartment parking lot, wearing yesterday’s clothes and hair tied up in a bun to disguise how oily it is.

when he backs out of his spot, he does that thing: wraps his arm around the back of your seat and backs out with one hand. it’s disgustingly attractive.

you sink lower into the heated seat, staring out the window to avoid daydreaming about car sex with jongho.

⋆⋆⋆

you do end up going to seonghwa’s party that friday, after your girlfriends unceremoniously invite themselves into your apartment carrying a huge case of peach soju and a twelve pack of beer.

after a beer and two shots of soju, you’ve changed into a crop top, a silky leopard print skirt, and cute black boots.

thankfully, seonghwa’s place is only a block away from your apartment, but you and your friends still find a way to get lost on the way there. it takes ten minutes longer than necessary, but you’re finally crashing into the living room of seonghwa’s townhouse.

it’s already packed, but roomy enough that you can move freely without having to slide against other sweaty and drunk people. you break off from your friends to seek out san (and jongho). as you pass the kitchen, you swipe a red solo and a meager amount of whatever mixed drink atrocity they’ve made for the night that you immediately water down. you’re man enough to acknowledge that you’re a lightweight, and you’ll be damned if you end the night puking into a toilet rather than flirting with jongho.

you find san first. he’s lurking near the beer pong table, leaning against the wall and talking to wooyoung. you sneak up on him and he jumps when you give his side a big poke.

“san!” you say, wrapping him a big hug. you’re known to be more affectionate with alcohol in your system. after san clumsily returns your hug to avoid spilling his drink on you, you release him and give wooyoung a similar hug.

“where’s jongho?” you ask, standing on your toes to speak directly into san’s ear.

san points to the other side of the pong table, where you see jongho huddled in a corner with some blonde girl who looks suspiciously like the one from yeji’s birthday party. your reaction is immediate, something joining the alcohol to course through your veins—something fiery and prickling. jealousy, you think numbly.

“we’re playing next,” san says. “me and jongho. you should stay to watch.”

you hum noncommittally, peering at the ids lined up on the pong table and seeing only jongho’s. an idea strikes you, and you give san a peck on the cheek and some excuse about using the bathroom.

you wander back through the crowd of people, occasionally saying hi to people you know as you seek out one individual in particular. you find him on the couch, arm hung lazily on the back, hovering behind some girl. he’s clearly chatting her up, leaning close to her ear and hooded eyes making generous peeks at her cleavage.

you down the rest of your diluted mixed drink and throw yourself at him.

“yunho!” you cry, squeezing into the small space between him and the arm of the couch, meaning you’re basically sitting on him. “thank you so much for helping me with the essay! i definitely would’ve failed without you.” you flutter your eyelashes at him and simper.

the girl scowls visibly, crossing her arms in a way that makes her tits swell, but yunho barely notices—you know he has a sweet spot for you ever since that one night stand, and besides, he could get any girl he wants.

“y/n,” yunho says, shifting his body so that his back is to the girl now. she scoffs and leaves. “you good?”

“i’m great,” you giggle.

“you look good,” yunho says, shamelessly running his eyes over your figure.

“let’s play beer pong,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“you think you’re good for pong?” he says, a little dubiously as you let out a hiccup.

“yeah, because i know you’ll carry,” you say.

“alright, princess,” he says. “let’s go.”

you tumble off of him and pretend to be wobbly on your feet to let him steady you as you walk towards the beer pong table. yunho slips his wallet out of his pocket and slides his id onto the table to get in line to play the winner.

when he notices jongho, yunho lets out a chuckle.

“ah, y/n,” he says, catching your wrist and pulling you into him. “i see what’s happening.”

your cheeks heat up at being caught so quickly. “i’m sorry,” you say sincerely. “he keeps bringing you up and being weird, but now, he’s got that girl with him…”

“don’t worry, princess,” yunho says. “i know how to put on a show.”

jongho and san are playing now, and it looks like they’re winning. that same chick from before is hanging off of his arm, acting like a cheerleader. you catch jongho’s gaze, and the cheery smile he’s wearing slips off immediately when he notices yunho behind you, hands on either side of your waist.

you shiver as jongho gives you a salacious up-down that has you convinced you’ve pressed the right buttons to make something happen tonight. you giggle, tugging your lower lip in between your teeth and leaning a little closer to yunho.

something must snap inside jongho, because he and san end the game with three cups in quick succession. the losers slink off, as you and yunho take their place. yunho reracks the cups and refills them with a thin layer of beer. jongho rolls a ping pong ball towards you.

“eyes,” he says.

when yours lock onto his, you smirk. he grimaces.

to decide who gets to start, you have to hold eye contact with each other and try to make a cup. whoever makes one first gets to start the actual game. jongho misses, but you don’t, so you and yunho get to go first.

you and yunho go toe to toe with jongho and san, which is surprising considering how little beer pong you play. by the fourth turn, the blonde girl has left, unsatisfied with the lack of attention she’s received from jongho. by the seventh turn, you and yunho have two cups left, and jongho and san have three.

yunho goes, and makes the first. you cheer and jump up to plant a wet kiss on his cheek. he steps behind you, massaging your shoulders theatrically. you close your left eye, lining up your shot. just as you’re about to let go of the ball, you turn around and pull yunho down to your height.

“give me a good luck kiss!”

he smiles into the kiss, which turns out to have a lot more tongue than you’d expected, but yunho is a good kisser so you don’t mind.

“let’s go, princess,” yunho says, slapping your ass as you turn back to the pong table.

jongho’s positively glowering at this point, and you smirk at him as you map out your shot again.

you miss.

you’re not entirely surprised.

yunho’s not even mad, and begins grossly comforting you with arms wrapped around your shoulders and kisses to the crown of your head.

jongho and san make the last two cups easily.

“too bad, princess,” yunho says into your hair. “you were doing so well.”

you pull yourself out of his grasp. “bathroom,” you explain sheepishly. yunho gives you a knowing look and a wink.

you’ve been to seonghwa’s house enough to know about the secret bathroom on the second floor that he doesn’t allow partygoers to use, so you slink up the stairs when million dollar baby starts playing and the crowd swells with renewed enthusiasm.

just as you’re closing the door behind you, a shoe shoots out to stop the action. someone pushes the door back open, and who else but—

jongho.

“i thought you said you didn’t like yunho,” he hisses down at you.

“i need to pee,” you reply, cocking your head to one side and widening your eyes at him.

he considers you for a second before stepping inside the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

“alright,” he says. “pee.”

“i don’t- are you going to watch me?” you say.

“didn’t seem like you minded people seeing you and yunho all wrapped up downstairs,” jongho says, crossing his arms over his chest, and you hate the way his biceps bulge when he does.

“that’s different from- from peeing,” you mumble.

“fine,” jongho says, and he turns around to stare at the bathroom door.

you’re not entirely satisfied, but you really do need to pee, so you pull down your underwear and sit on the toilet.

it’s awkward, but at least the music and noise downstairs mask the sound. you end up peeing for a surprisingly long time, and even jongho feels the need to break the tension with a poorly timed,

“damn, you’re like a waterfall.”

“i’ve had a lot to drink tonight,” you snap.

“you’re that drunk?”

“no—i’m drinking water, too, you bastard,” you say, finally finished. “don’t want to be hungover tomorrow.”

you flush and wash your hands, and then you’re leaning against the sink and saying, “okay, you can turn around.”

he does. “so. yunho?” he prompts again.

“i told you,” you say, staring directly above jongho’s shoulder. “i don’t like him.”

“then why were you all over him?”

“why do you care?” you sneer.

“just answer the question, y/n,” jongho says.

“why are you so obsessed with yunho?” you say. “if you want to fuck him, be my guest! i won’t get in the way.”

this hits a sore spot, because jongho moves quickly, crowding you into the sink in one step.

“it’s not him i want to fuck,” he breathes.

your breath hitches in your throat. you feel your heartbeat in your mouth.

“what do you mean,” you say, mouth unbelievably dry.

“c’mon, y/n,” jongho says, voice husky. he’s looking at you, eyes darting to your lips. “you can figure this out.”

it’s the same phrase he always uses when you’re struggling through a discrete math problem that he’s already solved, but normally he’s nice, barely teasing.

right now, he sounds downright condescending.

so, you snap. you grab him by his chain and tug him down to your height, slot your lips over his and kiss him.

his lips are nice. soft. he tastes like minty chapstick and bitter beer. his tongue slips into your mouth, and suddenly the kiss takes a turn from intense to lewd.

his hands find your waist, his palms burning into the exposed skin between your crop top and your skirt. his thick thigh pushes apart your legs, and your skirt rucks up above your hips. you gasp and break away to tug at the hem, but jongho stops you.

“that’s counter productive,” he whispers.

“okay,” you say. “i’ll be productive then.” and you pull off your crop top to reveal a lacy black bra and pull up your skirt all the way to reveal a matching lacy black thong. you hear jongho inhale, and then a deep chuckle.

“fuck,” he says, drawing out the word. he meets your eyes again. “you’re so fucking hot.”

“that’s you,” you say.

he dives back in to mouth at your pulse point, as his hands slip down to your ass, palming the flesh and leading you to grind against his thigh. he’s flexing, and the fabric of your underwear is thin and you can already feel a wet patch spreading, and the combination along with the friction of the movement has you moaning.

“that’s what i like to hear.”

you hear the muted opening strums of mr.brightside just as jongho’s thumb begins circling your clit over your underwear. you moan into his shoulder and buck against his hand. he continues to work you until the crotch of your panties is practically soaked, and you’re a whining mess.

“p- please,” you whisper, fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“since you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, and he’s drawing aside the lace and pushing two fingers into you. you throw your head back at the feeling of being filled and stretched; his fingers are long and thick, nothing like your own or any of your previous hook-ups.

“shit, you’re so wet,” he says, pulling back to watch his fingers fucking you. the sound it makes is positively vulgar, and you pant with every motion. at some point, he starts curling his fingers so that they hit that perfect spot in the back and rubbing his thumb across your clit, and you can feel your high building.

“fuck, jongho,” you whine.

“shit, babygirl, you’re gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep talking like that,” jongho says, smiling into your neck.

“don’t,” you say. “you can- you can- please, fuck me. you can- cum in me.”

jongho stops, only the tips of his fingers teasing at your entrance, and you whimper as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“are you serious?” he asks, as you circle your hips in an attempt at some relief.

“yes,” you hiss.

“fuck, babygirl,” jongho says, taking a step back and a new glint in his eyes.

but just as he puts his hand on the button of his jeans, there’s a sharp rap on the door that makes both of you jump.

“oi! this bathroom is off-limits!” it’s seonghwa, and to be fair, he’s right.

“give us a second!” jongho calls, wincing at the subtext. you jump off of the bathroom sink, swaying a little with how jittery your legs are. jongho stabilizes you with a hand on your hip and hands you your shirt.

“jongho? is that you?” seonghwa says. “little shit. this is the third time—”

your head snaps up to look at jongho, who’s unlocking the door and pushing it open, effectively interrupting seonghwa’s rant. he nudges you out first, standing behind you, and you suspect it’s to hide the very visible tent in his pants that’s currently pressed against your ass.

“oh,” seonghwa says, as his eyes fall onto you. he takes a second, glancing back and forth between the two of you, running over your mussed hair and flushed cheeks, jongho’s screwed up face and his right hand still grasping your hip, the wrinkles in your skirt and finally—

“oh,” seonghwa repeats. “oh, shit. okay, well congrats and all that—” and here he punches jongho in the shoulder “—but that doesn’t mean you can fuck in my bathroom!” he finishes cheerfully. he steps behind jongho and begins ushering the two of you back down the stairs and through the living room until you’re on his front porch.

“if you’re going to be doing the nasty, i’d rather you do that at home!” seonghwa says, wagging a finger in your face. “make sure you use protection! love you both!” and he shuts the door.

he leaves you and jongho in a stunned silence, both staring at the closed door.

“uh—” jongho tries.

“what did he mean third time?” you say.

“oh,” jongho says, and his big dick energy dissipates as a sheepish expression takes over. “well, i- i might’ve… y’know… a couple times in seonghwa’s bathroom.” he rubs the back of his neck and offers you an apologetic, gummy smile.

“and you got mad at me for fucking yunho once in his own apartment?” you demand, actually stopping your foot to emphasize the clear double standard at play. “while you were off playing merry-go-fuck-around in seonghwa’s private bathroom?”

“i wasn’t mad at you,” jongho says. “i was just—”

“just what?” you say. “slut-shaming me for having consensual sex?”

“no!” jongho says quickly. “i was jealous.”

“oh,” you say. so, you’d been right. he has been jealous of you and yunho. but somehow, you don’t feel vindicated in the slightest. “i mean—that doesn’t make it any better. i’m not some object—”

“i know that,” jongho says, exasperated. “but i just wanted to be… with you.”

“with me?” you say, wrinkling your nose. “you wanted to fuck me, too? like those other girls you had up in seonghwa’s bathroom?”

“no! with you, like—” jongho’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip “—like as your boyfriend.”

oh.

well, you hadn’t been expecting that. you blink at him once, then twice. you open your mouth and close it again, gaping like a goldfish.

“do you- do you like me?” you ask, voice hoarse.

“well, yeah,” jongho says. “do… you like me?”

“yes!” you nearly shout the word. “yes—i’ve been in lo- i’ve liked you for at least a whole semester!”

“oh,” jongho says, looking as dumbfounded as you feel. “well, me too.”

you look at each other, and then start laughing. you hiccup, and jongho moves closer to you, wrapping his substantial arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his firm, warm chest. your cheek presses against that goddamn silver chain, but it’s no longer a source of stress for you. he peppers the crown of your forehead with kisses, until you finally look up at him and he kisses your lips softly.

“so,” he says, “can i?”

you raise your eyebrows. “can you what?”

“be your boyfriend?”

you pretend to contemplate the question, and when it takes you longer than a few seconds to respond, he knocks his chin against your temple affectionately.

“yeah,” you say, grinning. “yeah, you can be my boyfriend.”

“so then, what do you say about going back to my place and finishing what we started?” he asks.

“yes, please.”

continued in part 2!

#jongho #jongho x reader #choi jongho #jongho smut #jongho fic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #[sunsh writes]#ateez smut #sunshineyuyu fic

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taesanluv3r · 11 months ago

Text

studio sessions.

han taesan x reader

taesan n reader r both idols! refers to taesan by his real name (dongmin) in most of this, super cuteness TT lowercase intended, ignore any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors! enjoyy <3

wc: 3,561

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"and i guess...i guess i'm just...in love with you?"

"tsk...no, that's not it" yn ln groans as she leans her head onto her knee. "if you could look through my eyes, if you could listen to the beat of my heart...if we switched places for just a moment you'd see all the truth about you that i've kept within me..." the idol girl read out loud, her cursor skimming through the page of lyrics she had just typed out onto the otherwise empty google document that stood before her on the computer screen. "and you'd figure me out...you'd see what this is all about..." the words seem to naturally come out of her head, like she was born to create catchy rhymes out of thin air. "you'd see what a fool i am, all the stupid things i'd do...all the proof that...uh..." she pauses for a moment, repeating that last line once again in search for the final words of her new song. "all the proof that...ah! all the stupid things i'd do, all the proof that i'm so in love with you!" yn emphasizes the final line, excitedly clicking the keys on her mechanical keyboard. she nods once, reading through the whole page once more before hitting the save button atop the screen. "perfect"

the young k-pop idol girl smiles to herself, the lyrics she had just written rolling satisfyingly out of her tongue as she read them again and again for the hundredth time. see, yn wrote almost all of her own songs- hell! she wrote about 70% of her group's discography all together. she loved it. she loved the idea of putting her own thoughts and troubles into words, the idea of turning her mind into a collection of rhymes. even on her off days like this one, she'd lock herself up in a random studio at the KOZ floor of the HYBE building, spending hours in front of the screen just writing. however, there was one problem. as much as the girl loved to write lyrics, she had but a clue how to actually turn them into listenable tunes. so, most times out of ten, when the girl was running out of possible strumming patterns on her ukulele, she would need to seek some sort of help from her company seniors. more specifically, from the guy she wrote half her songs about. the guy she had known since they were trainees, the guy she had a crush on for as long as she knew. she had to seek help from the musical genius behind many of her unreleased tracks, from the one and only, han dongmin, famously known as taesan of boynextdoor.

yn picks up her phone, scrolling through a few notifications she hadn't read yet, replying to her members in their group-chat, and sending a selfie to her mom who was wondering what she'd been doing these days. then the girl scrolls some more, searching for one particular contact in the sea of kakaotalk chats that flooded her screen. an unconscious smile makes its way onto her lips as she finds what she had been looking for. 'dongminie' the contact name, paired with half his face in his profile were enough to send the girl's heart to do cartwheels in her chest. she clicks on it, waiting for half a second as their previous texts loaded onto the screen.

r u busy?

she watches as a little green dot appears almost instantly on the bottom corner of his profile, an indicator that he was online to read her texts.

dongminie not rnn just finished schedules why? miss me? hahahah

his last text causes the girl to roll her eyes. the smile still present on her face as her fingers move to type out a response.

pftt u wish i just wrote another song 🤗

yn blinks once, then twice, waiting for him to finish typing.

dongminie another one??!!??! u psycho...what are you? a rhyme machine or something?? let me guess...u need help composing it? 🥱

she giggles, he knows her too well.

pleaaaseeee? not like u have anything to do either and i think this one is gonna be rlly rlly good...trust me!!!!

yn's hand moves to her mouse, placing her phone on one side of the desk. she shuts down her computer, already knowing his answer despite not really looking at his response.

dongminie fine... but only bcs i hv nothing else to do n making music is just something i love too much to turn down 😼 just come here, i'm in the studio as usual

and with that the girl gets up, stretching her body out in the process as she gathers her things into her shoulder bag and walking out the door. it doesn't take long for her to reach his studio, smiling softly as she makes contact with the familiar grey wall that surrounded the whole of their company building. yn lifts a hand up to tap against the door, knocking politely before a voice from inside asked her to come in.

"hey" han taesan says, turning around in his office chair. his hair laid flat against his forehead, and he wore a simple white shirt paired with some vintage jeans, the long black coat stashed against the corner of the room where his bag was completing his usually chic outfit. it seems he had been working on something too, the music program still opened on the brightly lit monitor that sat on the large desk. the idol boy smiled at the girl, reaching over to the side to pull another chair for her to sit in beside him and inviting her over. "hey, what you up to?" yn asked, taking the seat and dropping her things on the floor beside her. "nothing much...just some song drafts for the comeback" he replied, cursor hovering over the save button. "and you? seriously? another song?" the boy exaggerated his words dramatically, laughing when she rolls her eyes and playfully hits his shoulder.

"whatever! i just felt like writing today, alright? besides...this one's gonna be a hit" yn says, nodding proudly as she did so. dongmin laughs again, "you say that every time...and most times you don't even end up releasing them!" his words sound tired, as if he were getting sick of helping her make all these songs and none of them actually going out to the world. however, that was far from the truth, the boy would never ever be sick of it. he'd tell her time and time again how he only did these things because of his sole love for musical production, and she'd just nod, going along with anything that would turn her words into tunes. she didn't know the full story, she'd never know that only half of what dongmin said was real, and that despite his fascination in the art, the only reason he did any of this was because he, too, was in love with the girl sitting in his studio beside him right now and he'd take up every opportunity to be with her amidst both their busy schedules.

"so what kind of song is it then?" the boy asks, opening up a new project on the computer before bending down to plug his mini keyboard into the socket. the girl giggles before she speaks, "you're not gonna believe this..." she prolongs, watching the way his features washed down into a monotone and bored expression. "really? do you write anything other than love songs?" she laughs again, "i'm afraid they're the only thing i can write, dongmin" he sighs, "i mean seriously...what loser has you writing all these lovey dovey songs?" his words cause a scoff to escape her mouth. "says you? mister i keep thinking about you, mister just you and me...please, if anything, you're more lovey-dovey than me!" yn's outburst makes his stomach turn, grinning sheepishly as he begins scrolling through the variety of digital instruments he had downloaded on the program. "shall we?" dongmin asks finally, everything prepared for their music-making session. yn nods excitedly, her smile matching his own.

"we shall"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"that's so good oh my god...han dongmin, you musical genius" yn claps her hands together as the melody the two had just come up with came to an end. dongmin laughs, his hand slapping over his mouth as he did so; a habit of his that she found so cute. he moves the mouse so that the rows and rows of drum, bass, and other instrumentals on the screen became smaller and compressed into a single line of recordings. the song is smooth-sounding, the 808s and soft drums matching perfectly with the r&b rhythm they had decided on for the track. "now...vocals. it's time to put that pretty voice of yours to good use, yn" the boy says, grinning at her as he began to bend down to grab a mic and it's stand from the cupboard beneath the desk. she blushes slightly at his sudden compliment, giggling as she playfully rolls her eyes. "here" he says, handing her his pair of black headphones, asking her to put them on while he set up the mic for recording. yn nods, the headphones sliding down the sides of her face from how big they were compared to her head. he laughed, reaching over to adjust it to her size.

"is that fine?" he asked, eyes never leaving hers. "mhm" she hummed, face flushing, suddenly feeling shy from all the eye-contact. he must've noticed, a proud smirk making it's way onto his pink lips. "okay, tell me when you're ready" dongmin says, his finger grazing against the mouse as he prepared the program for recording. yn nods, pulling out the song lyrics that remained neatly typed out on the google doc she had opened on her phone. she took a deep breath in, adjusting the mic that sat on the table before her. then she takes one quick look at him, a look of determination on both their faces.

"okay, let's start"

the boy presses the space bar on his keyboard, a quiet metronome entering the girl's ears as the instrumental they had just composed started playing. she follows the count, nodding along to the sound and waiting for the fourth beat where she'd start singing. signaling for her to begin, the guy beside her nods his head and points his finger towards the screen at the same time, trying his best not to squeal like a little girl when her honey-like voice fills the otherwise silent atmosphere of the studio.

"i'd spend every free moment of my time sitting in a room with you, i would quit a job just in case you wanted me to. a thousand more rhymes i could write, hours and hours going into new songs. i begin to see you for all your rights, ignoring all your wrongs"

dongmin listened carefully to the lyrics, the way he always did, beginning to wonder again who she had in mind while writing such things. he watched the way her eyebrows knitted together as she hit a higher note, the way she bit her lips and narrowed her eyes as she played back the recording, listening to it again and again as she re-did each verse a dozen more times. yn felt his gaze on her, the same gaze she felt every time they had these studio sessions together. she'd turn to him annoyed, telling him she can't sing properly if he kept staring at her that way. then he'd laugh, teasing her about how red her cheeks got when she sang and the way her own lyrics had her smiling like an idiot.

"and you'd figure me out, you'd see what this is all about. you'd see what a fool i am, all the stupid things i'd do. all the proof that i only love when it's for you"

the finished demo comes to an end, yn and dongmin sharing a satisfied round of applause as he leans forward to hit pause on the keyboard. "another great song, as expected from us!" the idol girl cheers, patting herself on the shoulder in praise. "yeah, another great song that no one other than us will ever hear" the boy says, passing her a bottle of water. she rolls her eyes as she takes a sip, sighing before turning over to him. "wanna know why i never release these things?" his eyes widen and ears perk up, nodding slowly so as to ask her to continue. yn sighs once more, looking away from him this time as she plays with the hem of her t-shirt.

"it's cause of the lyrics. if i release these things, the fans will come up with all sorts of rumours about them. like who it's about, or why i'd write songs like that...and i don't know..." she trails off, leaning against the back-rest of the chair. "i guess i just don't want people to make it a big thing...you know?" he nods again, understanding where she was coming from. "yeah, i get it. i mean, every time my own unreleased stuff gets out, the fans come up with all sorts of ideas...so i get you" they share a mutual understanding, the girl smiles sweetly at the idea of how quickly they got each other; another thing about him she could write a billion songs about.

"i'd like to say i'm no better than those fans though..." dongmin begins, inflicting a curious look from yn. "what do you mean?" she asks, head tilted off slightly to the side as she looked at him. "i mean like...every time we have these sessions, i wonder who your songs are about too...if i think too much about it, i start to see why fans so quickly are able to come up with scenarios and rumours...it just comes out naturally, i guess" the girl laughs, stroking a hand through her hair. he mimics this, his own hand tucking the loose ends of his own hair behind his ear. "yeah, same goes for when i listen to your songs, i'd like to know what pretty girl has you so...romantic like that" yn smiles when he rolls his eyes, a comfortable silence mixing into the cool atmosphere inside of the sound-proof room.

"i think you'd have a field day if you ever found out about her..." the boy's voice trails off, his hands busy as he began to export the song they had just finished making a moment ago, watching as a grey box appears and starts glowing green as it slowly saved onto the device. "and why's that?" the girl asks, now leaning against her palm, her elbow propped up on the desk. "well...um...i'm not telling you- you'll laugh at me" his cheeks turned a pale shade of red, the same colour but darker sneaking onto the tips of his ears. in the moment the boy refused to look at her, finding the way her eyes stayed locked on him somewhat...pressuring.

"would you tell me about her if i told you about mine?"

the boy's eyes go big and he turns around to finally look at her again. he nods enthusiastically, excited that he was going to get an answer to all his queries at last. yn giggled at his expression, letting out a deep breath before speaking again. "well...he's a guy i've known for a while now. we used to see each other more often, but now both our schedules are just so busy we only seem to see each other on off days, or in passing at work" dongmin's eyebrows furrow as he racks his brain, trying to piece together all the information he was getting. "i've always liked him. i like how easy it is to be around him. i like how quickly we understand each other, how comfortable it is even when we don't talk...i like that he always helps me when i ask him to, how he makes me laugh and jokes around with me...and most of all..." she drags her words out, looking deep into his curious eyes as she muttered out the last of her sentence. "how easy it is to write songs about him...and he doesn't even know it- even if he's heard them all before"

the last few words were risky. anybody with a brain and some common sense would understand right away the boy she was going on and on about. there was no doubt in her mind that he'd figure it out too if she had given him enough time to digest all the things she just said. however, before he could do so, the girl interrupts every train of thought that went through his mind. "okay, that was my thing...your turn! you said you'd tell me about her if i told you about him, so..." she waves her hands around, signaling for him to start talking.

dongmin cleared his throat, straightening up his back before telling his own story. "this girl, i think almost all my songs are about her...well, at least all the songs i've written since i met her. i tell her about all my problems, and i try to help her with all of her own...uh..." he pauses for a moment and looks up at the ceiling, as if he were searching for what to say next. yn kept her gaze focused on him, patiently waiting for the boy to speak again. "she's really pretty- and smart too, and she can sing. she has the nicest voice, and she's passionate- maybe, the thing i love the most about her. how she loves doing what she likes to do, how her eyes are sharp as a hawk when she reviews her work, how her eyes disappear when she smiles when she's satisfied...how her hair falls over her face as she shows me a song she wrote on her ukulele...i could go on about her, hoping one day she'd realise"

the pair went quiet again, giving both the rookie idols time to reflect on what they just heard. it took them little to no time to figure things out, but they couldn't help the doubt that clouded over their minds. like the boy had said a couple of minutes ago, it was easy to come up with random ideas when the full story hasn't revealed itself yet.

"dongmin..." the girl began, grabbing his attention away from the loose thread of his shirt he was playing with. "huh?" the boy asked, watching the way her breathing got heavier like she had just gotten nervous about something. "if i tell you his name would you tell me hers?" he sat frozen in his seat for a second, a dilemma circling round and around in his brain. hesitantly, he nods. it's now or never. "i have a better idea, actually" he says, earning an interested hum from her. "we say their names at the same time, just so no one changes their answer- you know?" she nods, agreeing with his idea. "okay then, on the count of three..."

"one...two..." they share anxious looks. it was almost as though they knew what was about to happen, yet they needed it to come out of each others' mouth as confirmation. "three" she said, taking a deep breath before a single word escaped from both of their mouths.

"you"

within the split second after the word graced the very surface of their ear drums, the pair simultaneously released the breaths they didn't even realise they were holding. it was as though a weight had been lifted off of their shoulders, a wave of relief washing through the air surrounding them. the two idols didn't say another word, their glossy eyes staring deep into each other's as identical smiles made their way onto their lips.

"so that loser who made you write such lovey-dovey songs was me the whole time? you're telling me i helped you produce a dozen songs about myself?!" dongmin exclaimed, still in slight disbelief. yn giggled, nodding along. "mhm...and the pretty girl you write about is me! funny how that works out..." they shared another set of laughs, comfortably sitting beside each other in his studio the way they usually did. "so...now what? what changes between us?" the boy wonders, suddenly worried about what difference this new information could bring to their tight-knit relationship. the girl purses her lips, shaking her head softly as she began to speak again. "i don't know...i mean we obviously like each other...that doesn't change anything since we've always liked each other..." he agrees, the smile he had on before never leaving his bright face. "i guess we just keep going the way we always have...just that this time..." he trails off, stretching his arm out to grab her hands in his.

"this time we won't have to hide all our feelings in silly songs"

yn giggles when dongmin presses his lips against her hand, "when did you get so romantic?" he just smiles at her, noticing the way her eyes gleamed like they've never before, and the way her cheeks were naturally stained pink. he wonders for a moment if it were all because of him, he wondered how on earth he got lucky enough to know someone as perfect as her.

"i think the romantic-ness happened when i met you, yn"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

hehe <3 hope u guys enjoyed this 🙂‍↕️ this is one of the scenarios i alway think of before bed TT i love u han dongmin :( also the ending is up to interpretation!! u can say they start dating after this or maybe they stay the way they are knowing they love each other, or maybe they arent ready for a relationship yet! its all up to how u want it to be ♡ tysm for reading, reblogs n feedback r greatly appreciated! love, kona.

#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor #boynextdoor drabbles #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #taesan #taesan x reader #boynextdoor taesan #bnd taesan #han dongmin #han taesan #bnd x reader

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fratttymatty · 7 months ago

Text

Streamed

(All characters are 18+)

Zane Matthews was a typical 18-year-old high school senior—lazy, a self-proclaimed liberal, and unapologetically gay. He had no particular ambitions, other than to survive senior year and maybe stream his favorite games for a small audience. Life was simple for him. He spent most of his time in his room, slouched in front of a screen, eating takeout and diving deep into the world of online gaming.

Zane's favorite pastime was watching his favorite streamer, Austin Steele, a 21-year-old jock-turned-streamer who had the kind of charisma that could light up an entire stadium. Austin was everything Zane wasn’t: athletic, outgoing, effortlessly charming, and very straight. Austin didn’t just play video games—he was a fitness buff who also lifted weights, ran marathons, and shared motivational advice with his massive following. It didn’t hurt that he had the kind of body that looked like it belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine.

On this particular night, Zane had just finished his homework (barely), grabbed a bag of chips, and decided to tune into Austin’s latest livestream. Austin was playing a game, his muscular arms flexing as he maneuvered his controller with the ease of someone who had mastered not only the game but also the art of streaming. His viewers adored him, especially when he would occasionally take off his shirt to reveal his chiseled abs, sometimes tossing in a wink or a flex to keep the chat buzzing.

"Yo, what's up, guys?" Austin’s voice crackled through Zane’s headphones. "Alright, let’s get this game rolling. We’ve got a long way to go tonight."

Zane smiled to himself, watching the screen with an almost hypnotic fascination. He'd never been one of Austin’s die-hard fans, but there was something magnetic about the guy. His life seemed so effortless, so full of energy and confidence. Zane sometimes found himself envious of Austin's persona, though he'd never admit it. He liked being alone, preferred his quiet, less demanding life.

But tonight, something strange happened.

As Zane watched Austin’s stream, he noticed that the chat was gradually starting to empty out. It was late, after all, and most people had already logged off. First, a few usernames disappeared, then a dozen, until finally, the stream was down to a single viewer: Zane. He glanced at the viewer count—1. Just him.

Austin, seemingly unaware that the stream had almost cleared out, kept chatting away, playing his game.

"Haha, well, looks like it’s just you and me now, buddy," Austin said with a grin, addressing Zane directly. "You still with me, man?"

Zane blinked, momentarily thrown off. He had been watching Austin's streams for months, but this was the first time he'd ever been the only viewer. A weird sense of connection washed over him. The loneliness of it all felt oddly intimate.

"Yeah, I’m here," Zane typed into the chat, his fingers moving quickly over the keys.

Austin’s eyes flicked to the chat, his smile widening as he read Zane’s message. "Nice, man. Glad you stuck around. You know, I don’t usually do this, but you seem like a cool dude. How about I show you something real cool?"

Zane raised an eyebrow. "Show me what?"

Austin leaned closer to the camera, his face half-lit by the glow of his computer screen. His muscles were more defined up close, his jaw sharp, and his confident grin never faltered.

"Let me show you what a real transformation looks like."

Before Zane could ask what he meant, Austin’s fingers moved in a practiced, deliberate pattern, tapping his screen in a way that seemed almost ritualistic. A soft hum filled the audio, vibrating with a strange energy. Zane’s heart skipped. Something was off, but at the same time, his curiosity was piqued. He leaned forward.

The screen flickered, the room around him becoming dimmer. Zane tried to pull his focus away from the screen, but there was something hypnotic in Austin’s voice.

"Just relax, man. You’ve been watching me for a while now, right? You know I’m all about hard work, fitness, success. And I think… I think it’s time for you to see what you’re really capable of. Just let go of who you think you are, and let me show you the real you."

Zane’s eyelids grew heavy, and a strange warmth spread through his chest. His fingers hovered above the keyboard, not really knowing what to do with them. His head swam, and the words Austin spoke seemed to fill him, until they were the only thing that mattered.

"Let’s take you from here… and make you into something greater. Something stronger. Something… better."

With a final, sharp breath, Zane closed his eyes. The warmth that had been building inside him suddenly surged, crashing through his body like a tidal wave. His skin tingled, then burned, as though his very cells were being rewritten.

When Zane opened his eyes again, everything was different. The first thing he noticed was the way the air around him felt—thicker, more charged, as though his body had become a conduit for some unseen force. He raised a hand to his face, only to find that his features were sharper, more defined. His cheekbones were higher, jaw stronger. His entire body felt different—taller, leaner, more powerful. He instinctively flexed his arms, feeling the muscle beneath his skin.

He stood up, looking in the mirror across his room. Staring back at him was not the skinny, slightly awkward kid he used to be, but a completely different person—a tall, chiseled young man with a muscular frame, broad shoulders, and abs that could rival any fitness model’s. His hair was tousled perfectly, dirty blonde, falling in effortless waves that added a kind of raw, athletic charm to his appearance. It was the kind of hair that begged to be touched, full of that "I woke up like this" vibe, and it suited him perfectly.

But the most jarring change wasn’t physical. It was the way he felt—there was a new energy, a hunger to be the best, to prove something, to conquer. The Zane who had been shy, introverted, and uncertain had disappeared. In his place was a straight, athletic, and undeniably confident jock—someone who thrived on the attention and admiration of others.

He looked at himself in the mirror, his body rippling with strength as he flexed his arm again. The reflection staring back at him was now someone else—someone who could easily dominate the social scene, someone whose looks and charm were magnetic. This new version of Zane—who now silently thought of himself as Carter Steele—felt so at home in this body that he didn’t even think twice about the change.

Carter Steele stood tall, his new body brimming with confidence. He turned back to his computer, pulling off his shirt without thinking. He loved the way the cool air felt against his bare skin. With ease, he set up a new stream under his new identity. His fingers moved quickly, his body naturally relaxed as if he’d done this a thousand times before.

He was confident, charismatic, and ready. Within minutes, the viewers began flooding in, drawn by the raw magnetism of Carter’s athletic physique and the new, confident aura he now projected. The chat exploded with compliments, cheers, and flirtatious messages—mostly from jocks and cheerleaders from school, who had never paid him much attention before. They were drawn to him now, as if they’d always been waiting for him to become this version of himself.

"Looking good, bro!" one of his old friends messaged in the chat. Carter typed back without hesitation, a cocky smile on his face. "Thanks, bro. Been hitting the gym hard."

His old self—Zane, the lazy, slightly awkward gamer—was gone, replaced by Carter Steele, a popular, straight, athletic, and incredibly confident jock. As he leaned back, enjoying the instant attention he was receiving, he couldn't help but flex his abs for the camera. His chest swelled with pride, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Carter Steele had arrived, and he couldn’t care less about who Zane had been.

This was the life he was meant to live.

Carter Steele's streaming career was booming. His channel was flooded with fans, mostly from school, who couldn’t get enough of his chiseled physique, cocky attitude, and the way he effortlessly dominated not just the gym, but every social circle around him. He was the classic "high school king" with a fanbase that adored him for his confidence and presence.

Of course, his popularity wasn’t just because of his athleticism—he’d also gained a reputation for his no-nonsense, unapologetically conservative views, which were often a topic of discussion on his streams. He didn’t hesitate to voice his thoughts on anything and everything, including the culture he found "too soft" and people he felt needed to "toughen up."

And tonight, like most nights, he was streaming from his room, shirtless, his muscles gleaming under the lights as he played his favorite game. Mia, his new girlfriend, was perched on his lap. She was everything he needed to look good—pretty, bubbly, and a little ditzy. Her blonde hair bounced as she giggled, her hands playfully running through Carter’s abs as the chat lit up with comments about how perfect they looked together.

"Heyyy, guys!" Mia chirped, her voice overly sweet and high-pitched. "I’m Mia! I'm, like, so excited to be on the stream tonight with my hottie." She giggled again and leaned back against Carter’s chest, her body naturally curling into his as she flashed a peace sign to the camera. "Like, totes happy to be here."

The chat exploded with comments like “#couplegoals” and “perfect match,” but Carter wasn’t one to get carried away by compliments. He grinned, flexing his bicep a little just to show off.

Mia continued, completely unaware of how she came off. "I, like, have to say, though," she giggled, "there’s, like, soooo many people out there who just can’t take a joke anymore. Like, everything’s offensive now. Ugh, it’s, like, so lame."

Carter chuckled darkly, his fingers hovering over the controller as he shot a quick glance at Mia. "Yeah, for real. It’s like, everyone’s so sensitive these days. People need to learn how to, like, take a joke, you know? I mean, who cares if someone has an opinion? It's like, just don’t be a whiny little snowflake about it. You don’t have to agree with everyone. That's what’s wrong with the world today—too much of this 'everyone’s equal' crap."

Mia nodded, her lips pouting cutely as she leaned closer to Carter’s chest. "Yeah! Like, totally, right? And, like, I’m not trying to be mean or anything, but I just think it’s, like, weird when people try to, like, push their agenda on everyone. I mean, I’m, like, super chill, but some things just, like, shouldn't be a thing, you know? Like, it’s just so awkward when people act all like, ‘Oh, you have to accept me’ and blah blah blah. Like, no, honey. You do you, but don’t expect me to agree with it, okay?"

Carter’s smirk deepened. He ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair, the way it fell naturally into place making him look even more "effortlessly cool." "Exactly. Like, do whatever, but don’t expect me to give a damn. Some things just aren’t natural, and people need to accept that. Like, if a guy wants to, I don’t know, wear makeup or whatever, sure, but that doesn’t mean I gotta like it. Like, I'm not here for that nonsense."

"Totally, babe!" Mia giggled, playing with a lock of her hair. "It’s, like, yikes, right? It’s just so—ugh, I don’t even know how to explain it. Like, I’m fine with people doing their thing, but, like, don't, like, force it on other people. Like, some people just need to chill and stop trying to get everyone to agree with them. It's, like, so not a vibe."

Carter laughed, clearly enjoying the attention from both the camera and Mia. He flexed his abs again for the viewers, trying to show off, but he also enjoyed making bold, dismissive statements. "I hear you, babe. People are just way too caught up in trying to make everyone think the same. There’s a line, and if you cross it, you just look like a joke. It’s simple: you do you, but don’t make me do you. It’s like, if someone’s gay or whatever, I don’t care. But don’t come at me with all that nonsense like I’m supposed to act like it’s all normal. You know?"

The chat was a mix of comments: some applauding him, others questioning the boldness of his statements. But Carter didn’t care—he knew the people who followed him loved his no-holds-barred approach. The jocks, the cheerleaders, the ones who shared his views—they were all still watching. That was all that mattered.

Mia giggled again, leaning in and whispering into Carter's ear. "Yeah, like, totes. And I don’t, like, mean to be rude, but it’s just so annoying when people get all, like, ‘Oh, you have to be okay with it.’ Like, no, I don’t. Sorry, not sorry, right?"

"Exactly," Carter said with a confident chuckle, giving Mia a playful squeeze. "It's like, you’re not my boss. You don’t get to tell me how to live or what to think. I’m not going to sit here and act like I’m all in with your ‘new world’ crap, you know? People need to suck it up, grow a spine, and stop being so damn sensitive. Life’s too short for that."

Mia nodded, smiling up at him with that ditzy, innocent expression, oblivious to the controversy. "Totes agree, babe. Life’s, like, so much easier when you just don’t give a crap about what other people think."

The chat continued to pour in—some laughing, some not so happy about what was being said, but Carter and Mia didn’t care. They were in their own bubble, high on their own self-confidence and their views. Carter loved the attention, the validation that came with his "alpha" status, and Mia loved being by his side, playing the role of the cute, supportive girlfriend.

Carter adjusted himself in the chair, his gaze cool and unfazed. He didn’t need anyone else’s approval to feel good about himself. He had everything he wanted—strength, popularity, and a girlfriend who never challenged him.

"Alright, guys," Carter said, giving the camera one last wink, "We’ll catch you later. And remember, stop being soft. The world’s tough—learn to deal with it."

The stream ended with the usual flood of comments and emojis, but for Carter, this was just another night at the top. He had everything figured out, and nobody was going to change his mind about anything.

#male tf #male tf story #nerd to jock #gay to straight #conservative tf #lib to con #gym bro tf

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florawriting · 1 month ago

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Gods it is 2AM why does this always happen at 2AM

A weird little side-effect of Eugene's technopathy (Shazamily Headcanons #3)

Not that long into the Shazamily's superhero career the Vasquez household stated to notice a strange little habit Eugene picked up from somewhere.

Many times where he was doing a mindless task he would start humming. Not something noteworthy right? Well, it is if it is constantly the same tune nobody can really bring home. Even Eugene, when asked about the song, wasn't really sure what it was or where he knows it from.

That was until the next time he was using his technopathy for an extended time and the security panel he was working with hummed the same tune out of boredom.

Asking the panel what it was wasn't much of an help ether, they just noted that it was a song every computer knew as it was taught from the older generations upon the newer ones. The computer's anthem in a weird way.

Eugene thought that was all the information he would get on that song until a TikTok trend started branding it as the "Scary Robot Song" and finally it made sense.

The computer's anthem: the first song ever sung by a computer: Daisy Bell (AKA Bicycle Built for Two). Apparently the first singing computer liked the song so much it taught it to all who wanted to learn it and so it was passed down to everyone that followed, until practically every computer on the earth knew the song. And now, they had taught it Eugene as well.

____________________________________________________________

Not long after #SafeDaisyBell became popular after Circuit started an online campaign about the true meaning of the song and that the "Scary Robot Song" trend made many computers very sad.

It also created some weird lore about IBM 7094 being Hatsune Miku's grandfather, but that is for the Vocaloid fandom to figure out.

#shazam #billy batson #dc #dc captain marvel #shazamily #headcanon #au #eugene choi #daisy bell #IBM 7094 #technology #technopathy

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twinsimming · 2 years ago

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Attend University Online by Twinsimming 💻

“Want to get a degree? Don’t want to travel to Sims University to earn it? You’re in luck! Sims University now offers fully online degrees.”

This mod allows sims to work towards completing a university degree on the computer.

This is a script mod that can be placed in your Packages folder. It was built and tested on 1.69 but should work fine on 1.67.

Requirements

This mod requires The Sims 3: University Life.

Overview

Online University Benefits

Obtaining an Online Degree

New Interactions

Online University Benefits

Attending university online is cheaper than going to campus and doesn’t require your sim to leave their homeworld or set up a homeworld university to get a degree and its perks.

They can also work on multiple degrees simultaneously!

Obtaining an Online Degree

It takes 96 in-game hours to complete a degree and your sim will get their diploma and extra trait once they’re done.

If your sim has traits that correspond with a specific degree (Ex: Artistic trait and Fine Arts), they will complete that degree faster than sims without them.

If your sim has the Genius trait, they will complete all degrees faster than sims without it.

If your sim has the Absent Minded trait, they will complete all degrees slower than sims without it.

Your sim will be charged for their degree upon completion.

New Interactions

Enroll in [Degree Name] Degree - Available under the new Sims University Online pie menu on computers and laptops once a sim registers for online university.

Continue [Degree Name] Degree - Available under the new Sims University Online pie menu on computers and laptops once a sim enrolls in an online degree.

Tuning

All of the tunable values can be found on the mod download page under the header “Tuning”.

Conflicts & Known Issues

This is a new script mod so there shouldn’t be any conflicts.

Credits

EA/Maxis for The Sims 3 and The Sims 4, Visual Studio 2019, ILSpy, s3pe, and Notepad++.

Thank You

Big thank you to gamefreak130, @bellakenobi, and Anton!

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-fi 💙

Download @ ModTheSims

#sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 mods #ts3 mod #download #my mods #attend university online mod

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pookietv · 1 year ago

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the not-so-useless hotline | george clarke

this has been rotting in my drafts for a while but it was a req so i hope you enjoy! may be a little sucky, sorry about that :)

dedicated to both the nonnie who requested and the nonnie who was adorable to me in dms so!!!!

to be honest, you didn't even really know what you had become well known for.

you started on youtube, ended up singing and modelling and vlogging and god knows what else, and you were a little bit of a mystery to the world.

but, nonetheless you had become adored by the internet, and eventually dragged on a podcast by max, who you had met on a brand trip and had grown to quite like, even if you had only seen him a handful of times.

so when you showed up to a little office with worn out computers and a smile on max's face, it did make you giggle to be on the set that you had seen him, and george, who even though you had seen him a lot online, you admittedly knew next to nothing about.

"y/n! hello, welcome!" you were invited in by who you assumed was a manager, who helped you get microphoned up, staying quiet whilst you listened to max and george speak and introduce the podcast whilst you waited on the sidelines for being introduced.

so when you heard the, "okay, send her up for the interview!" and you sat opposite them, your cheeks were a little red from laughing as it felt strange to be sat opposite them in such a corporate setting, even if was all a big joke.

"welcome y/n to your interview at the useless hotline! i'm max, this is george, very important interview today," max joked, and you nodded a little more, laughing and repeating, "very important, yes."

"yeah, i'm so glad to be here, i really need this job!" you joked back, allowing yourself to have a moment looking at george, being your first proper time meeting him. he was quite attractive, put together nicely.

"well, we have very high standards here, although max doesn't reflect that too well," george joked back, and you nodded in a teasingly solemn look.

"well, every company has it's stinker, and i suppose here it's max," you smiled, and max rolled his eyes.

"you bitch! haven't even introduced yourself and you're already mocking me," max grinned.

"oh, sorry, i introduce myself and then mock you?" you teased back.

after being made to make max and george extremely potent alcoholic drinks, and introducing yourself, with a little gossip about music and max's social life, eventually you get questions thrown your way.

"well, we figured we need to talk to you about your dating life, 'cause that's where our clickbait will be," george joked.

"literally! everyone knows you as some maneating mysterious woman going on dates all the time, and we're nosy," max teased, and you rolled your eyes in response.

"i'm not a maneater! jesus, you leave a bad impression max! i would just say i am very picky, that's all. y'know, high standards." you hummed a little as you drank your drink with a small grin.

"oh, come on, you know yourself there has been a cast of rotating rumours of people that the internet thought you might be dating," max urged, and you shrugged a little. "plus, when we went on that bar thing on the latest brand trip you told me about a few of them, so there must be some drama there!" he joked a little more.

"men are just very disappointing creatures, you know? there just hasn't really been one where i've been like, yeah, this person is fun to be around and i would like to be around them a lot of the time, so i'm still single!" i explained with a giggle.

"george is literally always saying something of a similar tune, he is kind of just a picky man," max joked a little, and i grinned and raised my eyebrows at george.

"picky, hm? i suppose i'm a little picky, but i don't think that's necessarily bad, i just think i would love to hold out for someone who is really for me, you know?" i asked him curiously.

"i wouldn't even say i'm picky, i just think... there's a kind of thing, where i'll, you know, find someone where i'm just like, yeah, this feels right," george explained, and i nodded.

"so do you have like.. a type?" max asked me, "george's type always seems to be women who don't like him back." max teased.

"there have definitely been some stinkers in the past but... i mean, i wouldn't even say i have a type, really. i like funny people, and i'd like someone that's taller then me... um, i guess i like facial hair but that's not a dealbreaker if not," i laughed a little awkwardly with a shrug of my shoulders.

"well, i'd say you'd like george but he is exceptionally not funny," max grinned to himself and i rolled my eyes in a giggly way, watching george turn to max.

"because you're just so witty yourself, max,"

the podcast continued, with topics only getting more intrusive and unhinged as we continued, before we got to the point where we were answering asks, and one came up asking george on a date as a plus one to a wedding.

"fuck you! see, everyone comes on the podcast and thirsts over george, but what if you had asked me? i would actually have shown up, how about that!" max huffed whilst george tried not to laugh.

"what, people try and hit on george through the podcast?" you asked, laughing myself.

"yeah, they do, his name is max balegde," george joked.

"they're really scraping the bottom of the barrel if they want george," max grinned, before looking at me, "do you get a lot of the whole randomers asking you out thing? seeing as you're so thirsted over on the internet?"

"i mean, i suppose so, but i don't read too many of them, they just stay in the requests bit of my messages so i don't pay them too much attention," you giggled slightly, shrugging, "though, i do appreciate the compliments, sometimes if i'm just having a really crap day i'll just look through edits of myself. is that narcissistic? maybe it is, but it does make you feel good,"

"max was begging people to make edits of him on one of the podcast episodes so i'm sure you're not too bad," george grinned to you, and you tittered a little at his answer, grinning back at him.

george was pretty attractive, actually.

it had been about a week since the episode of you on the useless hotline had come out: and to say you had been bombarded would be an understatement.

from shipping fan edits to insane tweets, there seemed to be a common theme, the theory that you were dating george.

he had texted you a little, talking about when the podcast was going to come out, and asking you if you had any plans over the weekend, mainly casual talk as he told you funny stories about his roommates, arthur and chris, and occasionally sending you photos of himself pulling faces.

liked by max_balegde, georgeclarkeey and 12,039 others

yourusername: my roommate tried to push me out of a window (but i made her take cute pictures so)

miaxmon: shut up i did not push you!

↳ yourusername: @/miaxmon whatever you say PUSHER

userone: since WHEN did she live with mia ???

↳ yourusername: since she begged me to live with her bc im awesome and sexy and she couldn't live without me (but actually for about six months!)

georgeclarkeey: she should have finished the job

↳ yourusername: smh silly george if she pushed me out the window then who else would the internet ship you with???

↳ georgeclarkeey: someone tolerable hopefully

↳ yourusername: i can see why you got stood up now

you have a new message from @/georgeclarkeey!

georgeclarkeey: now that was just cruel and uncalled for

yourusername: it was honesty which girl would show up for a date with you ???

georgeclarkeey: you hopefully

yourusername: you what???

georgeclarkeey: would you show up on a date with me?

yourusername: only if you said sorry for wanting mia to finish me off and that i am the best :)

georgeclarkeey: i just audibly sighed

georgeclarkeey: you are the best and i am sorry for saying i wanted mia to finish the job

georgeclarkeey: happy?

yourusername: absolutely

yourusername: so, a date?

georgeclarkeey: i was thinking a really tall building with loads of open windows. thoughts?

yourusername: you're sooooo funny george

georgeclarkeey: i know i know i'm hilarious

georgeclarkeey: i was actually thinking we could go to flight club and play darts

yourusername: i will beat you SO bad

georgeclarkeey: can't wait :)

yourusername: anyway, i thought you were really picky about who you go on dates with?

georgeclarkeey: i usually am

georgeclarkeey: i guess you just feel right

yourusername: are you this soppy with all your dates?

georgeclarkeey: well they usually don't show up so you'll be the first, obviously

georgeclarkeey: anyway i thought you were picky as well?

yourusername: okay shut up now george :)

#george clarkey #george clarke #george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #georgeclarke x reader

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adafruit · 6 months ago

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🎄💾🗓️ Day 18: Retrocomputing Advent Calendar - Commodore 64🎄💾🗓️

The Commodore 64, released in 1982, is one of the ones we keep hearing got many people their start in their own computing history. Powered by a MOS Technology 6510 processor at 1.02 MHz and featuring 64 KB of RAM, it became the best-selling single computer model of all time, with an estimated 12.5–17 million units sold. Its graphics were driven by the VIC-II chip, capable of 16 colors, hardware sprites, and smooth scrolling, while the SID (Sound Interface Device) chip delivered advanced audio, supporting three voices with waveforms and filters, making it a lot of fun for gaming and music.

Featured a built-in BASIC interpreter, allowing users to write their own programs out-of-the-box. The C64’s affordability, large software library, lots of games, productivity, and educational applications made it a household name. It connected to TVs as monitors and supported peripherals like the 1541 floppy disk drive, datasette, and various joysticks. With over 10,000 commercial software titles and a thriving homebrew scene, the C64 helped define a generation of computer enthusiasts.

Its impact on gaming was gigantic, iconic titles like The Last Ninja, Maniac Mansion, and Impossible Mission. The C64 also inspired a demoscene, where programmers pushed its hardware for visual and audio effects. The Commodore 64 remains a symbol of computing for the masses and creative innovation, still loved by retrocomputing fans today.

Check out the National Museum of American History, and Wikipedia. https://americanhistory.si.edu/collections/object/nmah_334636 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commodore_64

And…! An excellent story from Jepler -

== While I started on the VIC 20, the Commodore 64 was my computer for a lot longer. Its SID sound chip was a headline feature, and many of my memories of it center around music. Starting with Ultima III, each game in the series had a different soundtrack for each environment (though each one was on a pretty short loop, it probably drove my folks nuts when I would play for hours). There were music editors floating around, so I tried my hand at arranging music for its 3 independent voices, though I can't say I was any good or that I have any of the music now. You could also download "SID tunes" on the local BBSes, where people with hopefully a bit more skill had arranged everything from classical to Beatles to 80s music.

Folks are still creating cool new music on the Commodore 64. One current creator that I like a great deal is Linus Åkesson. Two videos from 2024 using the Commodore 64 that really impressed me were were a "Making 8-bit Music From Scratch at the Commodore 64 BASIC Prompt", a live coding session (http://www.linusakesson.net/programming/music-from-scratch/index.php) and Bach Forever (http://www.linusakesson.net/scene/bach-forever/index.php) a piece played by Åkesson on two Commodore 64s.

Like so many things, you can also recreate the experience online. Here's the overworld music for Ultima III: https://deepsid.chordian.net/?file=/MUSICIANS/A/Arnold_Kenneth/Ultima_III-Exodus.sid&subtune=1 -- the site has hundreds or thousands of other SIDs available to play right in the browser.

Have first computer memories? Post’em up in the comments, or post yours on socialz’ and tag them #firstcomputer #retrocomputing – See you back here tomorrow!

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communistkenobi · 1 year ago

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something I’ve been thinking about is like, the internet is this magical system of technologies, never before seen in human history, and one of its capabilities is to answer virtually any question you ask of it. Which is not even remotely a novel observation obviously lol. But I’m thinking about this in the context of a point that Adorno & Horkheimer made (in The Culture Industry I think?) about the radio: that to expedience the radio, to live in a social context where there is this vast incomprehensible system of technological infrastructure that you do not understand or control, and which allows you, a mere peasant, to listen to news broadcasts, music, and advertisements, is effectively like listening to the voice of god. Like the average person’s relationship to modern telecommunications is so mystifying, incomprehensible, and abstract that we experience technologies like the radio as an all-powerful, indestructible authority, and this (obviously) shapes our relationship to the information that is shared through it. People make jokes on here about how transmission towers are angels, but like tbh that is essentially how we experience them - vast, incomprehensible, highly dangerous objects whose impact on our lives are at once all-consuming and unknowable. We do not just turn on the radio and listen to the news, we tune into what the voice of god has to say today - right now he’s selling toilet cleanser!

and all that to say, I always find something a bit incomplete about discussions about wilful ignorance online - that we live in an age of mass information and yet people still seem as ignorant as feudal peasants, or whatever. Nobody googles things, nobody tries to branch out and experience new kinds of art, nobody educates themselves on important topics they don’t understand. and like this frustration is very real and well taken, I feel it frequently, but what I’m grappling with is whether this is the correct framing - that maybe “why don’t people just google things” is the wrong question to ask, because I tend to find the explanations offered unsatisfactory. Like specifically I’m thinking of discussions on here that are about like, “anti-intellectualism”, kids these days are so ignorant even though they grew up with the internet, reading comprehension is piss poor, and so on. Recently I’ve seen a lot of weirdly moral-panicky posts about children not knowing how to type on computers because back in my day we were forced to learn how to touch-type by age 8 even though we couldn’t look up any tutorials on YouTube to help us, etc etc. And like I just do not buy that people are individually choosing to be ignorant, that people are “getting dumber,” and that this state of getting dumber is inversely related to the amount of information we have access to (which makes “getting dumber” even more dumb). An unstated assumption that goes into a lot of these “anti-intellectualism” discussions is that “information” is this universal object that has a standardised enlightening effect on the people who interact with it - that the only reason to have an ignorant, sheltered, or ill-formed opinion on something is because you have individually chosen not to Look At Information that will cure you of your ignorance. And so going back to the god radio thing, having regular access to the google search bar is not just having access to an encyclopaedia or dictionary - it is like having a direct line of communication to god, this authority that can answer any question you ask of it. But it’s not just one answer, it’s many answers, more answers than you could ever possibly read through. Google reports the number of hits it returns for whatever you type in - you will regularly get millions of answers to your question. And these answers are embedded with advertisements, just as radio news broadcasts are. Like if god is selling you toilet cleanser while telling you the number for a suicide hotline or news about what’s happening in the world, how do you psychologically deal with that, how is your relationship to capital-I Information shaped by this relationship?

The corollary to “we live in an age of mass information” is “we live in an age of mass misinformation,” but they both show up as answers on google (again, not a novel observation). but in the face of that how do you not simply stop asking questions? & of course this decision to stop asking questions is given form and substance by social circumstance, it reinforces systemic privileges and violences, and so this decision is not one free from consequence, and in many cases it is not an innocent decision. a white person deciding not to read the news because it’s too hard to figure out what is happening/too frightening/etc has the consequence of reinforcing the white supremacist outlook that is foundational to the social context of white people because they’re not reading anything that challenges that outlook. ignorance has many social contexts and many of them are violent. etc. like the consequence of “why does nobody google anything” is just a continuation of the status quo, just with this supposedly glaring and easy fix to it (simply google it). but that just leads us back to a discourse of individual choice, of people individually choosing not to “google shit.” it is a deeply individual fix to a systematic social problem. and so maybe the question is not, why doesn’t anyone google shit, but rather, why is the primary delivery system of knowledge a god that sells you toilet cleanser

#book club #um well barely . shower thoughts style post

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breakyourrxles · 5 months ago

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❥between two breaths (m) | 𝟡

𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞

↳ The surprises keep coming, and after a barely-survived stint at Idol Radio and an unexpected confession from a bandmate; you become a little bit more willing to take on some risks of your own.

kim sunwoo x fem!reader (side lee juyeon x reader) — idol!sunwoo, fan/trainee!reader. forced proximity, forbidden love, friends to lovers, angst, slow burn, idolverse-typical themes regarding; dating, image, public perception, etc. happy ending, plot-heavy!! reader thinks she's nonchalant about it but she rly isn't. smut. [7,2k wc ongoing] cws: heavy themes of wanting-but-can't-having, mild jealousy, explicit sexual content, a little alcohol consumption, dancing on the edge of career suicide, poor decision making because of The Wanting.

❥ masterlist | ao3

"Arguably, that's precisely why we need more private time." Sunwoo grins and then says, "If it's going to keep happening, then it should most definitely be more private."

The door shuts behind you and with a blank stare you say, "This is a really bad idea."

Your manager looks up from the open laptop in front of him, and as if somewhat anticipating the pushback, he sighs heavily and asks, "And why is that?"

"It wasn't that long ago that we had a meeting where we discussed how the company wouldn't even let us be in the same room in front of cameras, now all of a sudden I'm going on his radio show?" Plopping down into a seat, you slump down into it like all of the life is slowly draining from your form. Not far from the truth. "What changed? It doesn't make any sense."

"Welcome to idol life, the company is going to make a lot of changes and decisions that don't make any sense to you. They don't have to. It isn't your job to make sense of them, it's your job to show up and do what you're instructed to do with a smile on your face and little fuss about it."

"So, that's it? Just shut up and let the pieces fall where they may?" you ask.

He pulls his glasses off from his face and sets them on the table, rubs his eyes with the pads of his fingers and says, "I don't want us to have a tumultuous relationship with one another, but there isn't much I can do about it. We are all taking orders from the top, myself included."

There is silence that follows thereafter, and though you understand where he is coming from, the unknown of what is soon to come does not sit atop you without its weight. He must not feel contented by the outcome of this either, because after only a short amount of time passed he speaks up again.

"It's going to generate activity. People who are aware of your history together are going to be tuned in to watch because they're curious about how it's going to look between you now. They want to find something, they want to see something; and if they can't, then they'll probably just make something up. Depending on how this goes the company will then make a decision about how the two of you will be managed as a unit in public going forward."

"Ah." You nod once, a sarcastic acceptance of the plan as it is paid out before you. "If the court of public opinion doesn't go ahead and lambast me online for something that I may or may not even do, then there's going to be more where this came from."

"Essentially, yes." He puts his glasses back on, turns his attention back to the computer and says, "So, let's do our best to minimize negative perception as much as we can. Who knows? Maybe the people will love you together."

You severely doubt that.

Jubi is a powerful vocalist and Nara is firm and outspoken in ways that tend to be divisive. Between the incredible raw talent and a tough temperament, the conversations of the evening tend to have little to do with you. All according to plan, and you're perfectly happy to sit back and bide your time as the minutes of recording tick down toward your freedom.

Watching Sunwoo work like this is fascinating. His idol persona feels like it is an extension of himself but turned up to eleven. Everything is explosive reactions and playful flirting with fans through the large window that looks out over the street. There are so many people outside—people here to see MVNE and Sunwoo alike—and while they appear to be pleased with the way the event is turning out, there is nothing to say that the conversations surrounding it online are anything close to the same peaceful understanding.

You try not to think about it. You watch Jubi and Nara hold their own with little input from you, but you cannot simply sit back in silence and bring nothing to the table. Doing so reeks of some air of guilt; a woman with something shameful to hide, regardless of the nasty truth behind that perception.

Nearing the end of questioning, Sunwoo's attention turns to you. There's a glimmer of something in his eye that you know to be troublesome. Surely, he is smart enough not to invent problems where there doesn't need to be any… Right?

"How does it feel? Being on the other side of idol and fan culture?"

Truth be told, you are not prepared to discuss this topic in any facet whatsoever.

But you cannot react. You are not afforded the luxury of expressing any feelings of discomfort or awkwardness in relation to this question. Everything is an act and playing it cool is of the utmost importance in all situations they may happen to fall upon you. Inside, you are screaming. You want to leap across the room and rip Sunwoo into a headlock, threatening to murder him in front of all of his precious onlookers and really give them something to post about once they get home.

Instead? You smile and cock your head to the side cutely.

"Well, it's different, of course. I would say it's impossible to anticipate what you're getting into when transitioning to the other side. It's easy to believe that you understand so much from being so close to it, but it really is quite a learning experience. Being in fandom was a beautiful part of my life that I could never come to regret, but I also wouldn't give this up for anything in the world, either. I think I'm right where I'm meant to be."

Jubi and Nara both look at you with soft smiles and proud eyes. It's a good answer, but more than that, it's a truthful one.

When filming wraps and you slip away into the green room for your belongings, there's a message waiting for you on your phone.

Manager [21:48]: Not able to accompany you back to your dorm, needed elsewhere for the evening. Sunwoo's manager will ensure that you get back safely. Great work tonight, rest well.

Okay, mildly annoying. Ultimately, this does not disrupt your evening too much though. Jubi and Nara have other late-night schedules to attend to and thus it makes sense that you are not sent to be dealt with by the other MVNE managers, but being sent off with Sunwoo presents a whole different set of difficulties that you are not so in the mood to be dealing with.

Specifically, being seen entering the same car as him.

You roll your eyes to nobody but yourself as you imagine it happening and the potential fallout as a result. Realistically, this should not be a situation, at all. The two of you are labelmates, and in any other job it is not so ridiculous to think that colleagues may share rides and be seen going places together.

Unfortunately, the idol life is no such career choice.

This could be a mess, but you don't really have another option.

Exiting from the venue, you and the other girls walk behind Sunwoo and maintain a substantial amount of space. Many fans are lined up near the vehicles that stand waiting for you, and through excited waves and huge smiles, the four of you continue on towards the moment of truth.

One girl from the crowd shouts Jubi's name and asks where it is that MVNE is headed to next. She says that she hopes you're able to enjoy a nice meal, and though you allow your groupmate to have this interaction, it also serves as the perfect opportunity for you.

Jubi frowns so big that you think it could be seen from space and says, "Nara and I have another schedule to go to! No rest for us, yet!"

"I'll go home and I'll be sure to rest well and eat well," you say, "but I have to go with the other car and send the girls off on their way, unfortunately."

The crowd whines in unison, sad for the fact that you must be split from your friends, and just as it begins dying down you feel a small touch to your arm. A manager urging you to come along and be on your way.

"Time to go! Thank you so much for coming out, it was so much fun! Get warm and have delicious meals together. We'll meet again soon!"

You waste no more time climbing into the van. Your head is down, eyes glued to the cement beneath your feet and trying not to think about any of the curious others that may be watching you on account of all of this. The thoughts have to be pushed away, the worry is not something that you can do anything about, nor is the aftermath of it.

Sunwoo is standing just beside the open door, and though you pass him to get inside, you don't look at him, either.

Fan interaction carries on even once the van pulls away, and you have no other option than to swallow down the welling anxiety inside of you and engage with just as much enthusiasm as before.

Once the last face has disappeared into the dark distance, the windows roll back up and you all but melt into the leather seat beneath you.

There is no peace for you here, however.

Sunwoo—sitting in front of you—swings around and props his chin up on the headrest to look at you.

"I have a surprise."

Slowly, your eyes close. "I do not like the sound of that."

"Oh, come on!" he whines. "I went through all of this trouble to do something nice for us and this is how you're going to repay me?"

"I just survived one of the most stressful nights of my very new idol career and now you're telling me about some surprise you have orchestrated? Forgive me for not immediately jumping for joy when all I really want to do is bury myself six feet in the ground."

Sunwoo is perceptive, despite his unwillingness to meet someone halfway with their emotional earnestness the majority of the time. He is more than capable of understanding when the vibes, for all intents and purposes, are off, but whether or not he feels like feeling with that can be a whole different kind of beast.

Still, he must be feeling especially receptive tonight, because his eyes narrow slightly as he stares at you and rather than doubling down on the humor he says, "You did really well tonight. Everyone loved you and you carried yourself impressively. This was pretty much a nightmare scenario for the both of us and it worked out in the end, let yourself have a sigh of relief."

As annoying as it may be when he is right, right he is. You do exactly that and try to breathe out all of the negative energy that has accumulated inside of you with one, swift sigh, and once it's done you find his eyes and ask, "Alright, what's the surprise?"

Sunwoo smiles big and wide, pleased by the outcome of this and says, "We're going to dinner!"

You shoot up from your lazy position, adrenaline and horror flooding beneath your skin.

"We're what!?"

"Don't worry so much! I have a spot, a kind of best kept secret among idols for where to go when you don't want to be bothered and definitely don't want to be seen. It's very discreet, much more so than the places we used to meet."

In the moment, all you can manage to give as a response is a slow, exhausted drawl of his name.

"You should trust me more! I wouldn't do something to put either of us at risk of something that will make things much worse for us."

"You literally have! You do! What was that stint backstage? The place was crawling with staff and our members and that certainly didn't stop you."

Sunwoo hums thoughtfully for a second and then, seemingly accepting defeat, says, "Okay, fair enough, but I was desperate and desperate times call for desperate measures! Besides, I wouldn't do it again, which is precisely why I have instead gone out of my way to arrange something smarter and safer." He extends an arm out, flops his hand in the air in your direction despite not being able to actually reach you. "I know you think I'm crazy and too risky, and that's kind of true, but I'm trying to reel it in for you! Is it a crime to want to see you more than just in the hallways of the company building?"

Looking at him and the subsequent pout that's now sitting on his face, you relent just a bit to his thoughtful intent. He's doing his best, even if it's simply not very good.

And besides, he looks far too cute when he's pouting like this.

"No, it's not, but also… I don't know how good of an idea it is that we be given more private time, all things considered as of recent."

"Arguably, that's precisely why we need more private time." Sunwoo grins and then says, "If it's going to keep happening, then it should most definitely be more private."

Sunwoo's chumminess with his manager is something you have known for a while now, though you've never quite seen it in action with this much clarity.

The van comes to a stop in a narrow, unlit alleyway. There is so little space that you and Sunwoo have no other option than to shimmy your bodies between the concrete walls and the vehicle itself, and upon reaching the drivers side window, it rolls down and the man behind the wheel firmly informs the two of you that you have thirty minutes, and not a second longer will be spent here.

It's for the best, because Miyoung is at home and expecting your return. Already, you will need to think of an alibi for your lateness, but at the very least, you always have the Seoul roadways to blame when the time spent lost in transit is not so egregious.

Only a few steps are needed to reach the entrance, and after offering a couple of knocks to the door, it swings open and the two of you are met by a pretty young woman dressed all in black. She smiles and steps to the side so that you can go inside, but before you do, Sunwoo turns back to look at you and with a familiar slighted grin you have seen so many times before says, "Just like old times."

Not quite, you think in response.

Inside of the building, the lights are so dim that you find difficulty in navigating what lies ahead of you.

Quickly you make your way past the kitchen and restrooms, into an area that is small, cramped, and filled with small rooms that have tables inside. All of them offer a curtain in front, and on your way through you glance inside one of them and make brief eye contact with a well-known actress sitting with her male companion for the evening.

Anxiety heightens within you, but just as it does you find that you have reached your destination.

With a smile that never falters, the hostess offers your table and both you and Sunwoo take seats opposite of each other. The curtain is closed, and even though you seem to be surrounded by people with what may be even bigger secrets than the two of you hold, you cannot help but feel that tumultuous twisting deep inside of your stomach.

The one thing that dwindles it, however, is a single glance towards Sunwoo. His sweatshirt is oversized much like his jeans and with a simple set of glasses clinging to his face, he almost looks like a simple, regular guy. Granted, much more handsome, but regular nonetheless.

Drinks arrive soon after, and once the woman takes her leave you look at Sunwoo once again and ask, "So, I take it you've been here before?"

A corner of his lip twists upwards and as he brings the glass to his face he says, "Sure have."

"I suppose that's promising, since I haven't heard anything about that before."

"Jealous? Thinking about all of the stuff I might have been getting up to before we met?"

You roll your eyes. "You're the jealous one between the two of us, not me."

Sunwoo folds his hands together atop the table and leans himself over it closer towards you. He appears far too amused by the events that have transpired up until now, and despite knowing you are in fairly safe hands here, you feel a chill crawl over your skin given the close proximity and your limited privacy.

"We'll see about that," he says, and then sits back normally against his chair. "I have a drama coming up, shooting begins soon. I wanted to tell you the good news in person, figured it was something worthy of a little celebration."

Your face lights up. "That's amazing news, and absolutely worth celebrating! No wonder you dragged me out here like this, and here I thought your intentions were always going to be something nefarious."

An eyebrow perks up, questioning and suspicious. He says, "My intentions are never nefarious, I just want to spend time with you." Sunwoo shrugs the tangential topic off and then continues on with the previous point. "Anyway, it's a pretty big deal for me. I don't have a lot of acting experience so I'm a little nervous about it, but what's really exciting is that it's a romance."

"That sounds perfect for you, honestly. The bad boy schtick never really did land with you, not for anyone who has known you for longer than ten minutes."

"You're being annoying but I'm going to ignore that in favor of mentioning the fact that there's going to be a kiss scene."

You don't like the way hearing that makes you feel.

It's acting. It is only as real as the physicality of ensuring that a scene is properly displayed to the viewer in whichever way it is intended to be. The logical part of your brain begins to work overtime in an effort to explain your feelings on this away, and while it helps a tiny bit, there is still an inkling of unfortunate displeasure lingering heavily in the center of your chest.

After a stiff sip of your drink, you place it back down on the table, force a smile that does little to sell the point and say, "I'm sure you're delighted by that fact."

"Should I be?"

Exhausted by this already, you sigh in an effort to express as much. "I don't know, Sunwoo. Should you? Are you? What difference does it make, it's your job. I doubt you're going to have that hard of a time kissing a beautiful woman on camera."

He appears far too pleased by all of this once you have finished with your statement. More than that, Sunwoo leans over the table once again, folds his fingers together and while looking you dead in the eye he says, "I think it's about due time for an honest discussion about things going forward."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Your skin feels like it's on fire, throat dry as a result of the intense stare that Sunwoo has captured you in. He is rarely serious—especially this much so—but you know him well enough to know precisely when the switch has flipped from something light and comical to something far more urgent and necessary. These moments are uncommon; Sunwoo prefers to communicate in efforts and actions rather than words, so if he says it's time to talk, then you can only imagine what is waiting for you on the other side of it.

"It means…" he starts, drawing out the word at the end, "That I want to see you, and I think I've made that pretty obvious for a while now, but with it laid out plainly like this you aren't going to be able to deflect or pretend that you don't know. You're just going to have to face it head-on. We both are."

Sunwoo's voice is surprisingly firm when he says it, a stark difference to your own racing heart and shaky exhales as you do your best to steady yourself in the heaviness of his confession. He's right—right about all of it—a jagged pill to swallow going forward because just as intended, Sunwoo has trapped you in a circumstances where you cannot escape this, you can't run away and pretend that you do not know the thing that you very much do know, and frankly, have known for a while.

The problem therein is less with your understanding of him, and more with your inability to find the strength to cut free of the shackles of terror that bind you and meet him anywhere close to halfway.

Your lips part, though no words leave them immediately. Thoughts swim in your mind so muddled and messy that it's difficult to understand where one starts and another begins. You have to answer him, you have to reply, and all the while his gaze towards you never falters.

"I…" You stop, take a deep breath and then go on to say, "I'm terrified. I'm scared of the risk, scared of getting caught… I…" Another pause follows, because the thing that you want to say is something that you have never dared to utter to another person ever before. Now or never, you suppose. As good of a time as any, and if nothing else, Sunwoo deserves the honesty in exchange for his own. "I want to, but I'm just fucking scared."

"I know that, but as fun as stealing risky kisses is, not even I'm delusional enough to think we can keep getting away with it forever. At some point we're just going to have to make a decision… A decision to do this, or to not do it, and then put it to bed forever if that's the case."

Matching him, you lean across the table and close more of the space hanging between you. Like this, the two of you are so close to one another, but Sunwoo does not falter in any way despite your proximity.

"Why now? I just debuted, we have a comeback in less than a week… Why does it have to be now? Can't this wait until my group is a little bit more established? Until something like this being found out might not be the complete ruination of mine and the other girls' lives?"

"Is it fair to ask me to wait for a day that might not ever come?" Sunwoo asks, and along with it, he slowly stands and closes more of the space between you. "Are you asking me to wait forever?" His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, his face inching closer to yours. "Because I might, if you do."

Sunwoo kisses you then, and for the first time, the worry of who might be around to see it completely melts away.

Caked in stage-ready make-up, you look at yourself in the mirror and for a moment, you don't even recognize the person staring back at you.

It's been days since your last meeting with Sunwoo and the conversation that was carried out. The words have sat in your mind ever since—will you, or won't you—but the thought of making a decision leaves you paralyzed. The answer is an obvious one if not for the extenuating circumstances that you've now found yourself in; a chance at something that you never thought you would be able to have now waiting in your grasp, waiting for you to throw all caution to the wind and just say yes.

But you have no other option than to make a decision based on the worst possible case scenario, and based on the responses from your stint on Idol Radio, you're simply unsure it's a risk that you're willing to take.

Lukewarm is the best way to put it, though surprisingly, the displeased responses are less about you, and more about Sunwoo. Many onlookers question his presentation of the topic in relation to your history together in general, and frankly, you don't really blame them.

You are lauded for responding well, professional and polite and it would appear that most do not press beyond it to see what might be hiding within the shadows. One commenter says that you can hardly even tell that she was ever his fan, and at the very least, it's an amusing take considering all that is going on behind the scenes.

Now, like so many other times, you have to put all of these thoughts behind you and prepare for your comeback showcase. MVNE are ready, standing by for their call and doing last minute fixes on headset microphones and appearances, but only a few minutes stand between your group and the start of the show. Will it be received well? you wonder to yourself, such a drastic change in song already when compared to your debut.

And there are already extenuating circumstances hanging overhead. Hyemi's small mishap and now yours. Things that someone, somewhere, will always make a point to mention should their intent be to disparage and destroy.

A woman on the staff knocks and then swiftly opens the door to tell you and the other girls that it's time, and thus, you all shuffle out of the room and to the backstage area in wait.

The staff on hand for this event is much smaller, and so the area offers far more room for comfort than that of busy festivals. You make your way out and navigate towards the stage, but not before catching the eye of someone that you have grown rather fond of over the past few months.

With cue cards in hand and slicked back black hair, Juyeon cocks his head in a delighted sort of way and greets you pleasantly.

"Nervous?"

You shake your head. "Not any more than the usual amount, but I suppose there is always reason for moderate concern. What if I break an ankle?"

"I don't think most jump straight to that. You're going to be great, I'm looking forward to it." He dangles the cue cards in hand with a smile and says, "Lucky me, wrestling the MC spot out of Hyunjae's clutches."

"You know, there's enough of you that the chances of getting someone I'm friendly with are rather low. Starting to believe you're becoming a fan."

Juyeon smiles and then says, "Oh, of course I am."

A staff member calls for him, he gives his last good lucks and goodbyes, and off he goes to begin the show.

With barely a moment going by between them, Nara steps up beside you with nervous hands and shaky eyes.

"What?" you insist, the evidence of something on her mind painted onto her features in ways you've not quite seen from her before.

She swallows hard. "Uh, you seem close to Juyeon."

Oh no. This is really the last thing you need, all things considered. It's bad enough that Woori seems intent on believing that your circumstances with Sunwoo are spiraling out of control, but on top of it, her eye is keen enough to spot a budding interest in Juyeon, as well. Regardless of what that may, or may not, entail currently.

Must you hardness all interactions you have with the people around you, even amongst your own band members and friends? Is it truly an impossibility to merely have a friendship with someone like Juyeon without it being placed under a microscope for dissecting? If Juyeon were less handsome, less desired, less personable; would this still be a problem you are now meant to deal with?

It's not even like that. At least, you are fairly sure of the fact.

Your hands fly up, waving around wildly in front of you. "Oh, no! We're just… We worked together not long ago, you know? It's not anything like—"

"I wasn't suggesting that, actually." Nara's fingers pick at the skin around her nails nervously, a habit frowned upon by the staff intent on keeping all of the members in tip-top physical appearance. You've never seen her like this, and before she begins to state the fact, you're already beginning to realize where it is that she is going with this. "I'm saying this because… Well, I'm curious about what you know about him. If he's seeing anyone right now, if maybe…"

"You're interested."

"Of course I'm interested!" Nara bites back, all but flying off the handle at the obvious statement. She quickly reels her reaction in, presses closer to you and drops to a whisper to say, "Who wouldn't be interested? Anyway, don't make a big deal about it! I'm just wondering."

Your heart sinks, and you're not quite sure what to make of that. Juyeon is your friend, and you have more than enough on your plate already with a man that desperately wishes for you to take the plunge like it appears that so many others surrounding you are perfectly willing and happy to take. Why is Nara so willing to risk it for a man that she barely even knows? you question yourself. Why are you completely unwilling to give that to someone who begs for it?

However, it is not your job to reprimand Nara for her consideration. You are not the leader, you are her peer, and with this in mind you have no other option than to make a neutral choice.

With a pointed effort to steady yourself, you clear your throat and then say, "He's not seeing anyone, not to my knowledge, at least."

"Is he nice? He seems nice, if you're friends with him."

"Yeah, Juyeon is very easy to get along with. Very mature, he's not really anything like what he presents on stage."

Nara smiles wide hearing the news, and you wish you could feel even a fraction of the joy that she is in that moment.

"Maybe you could put in a good word for me," she says. "You know, something small. Something that might get him to see me."

The lights dim on stage, the sound system loudly booms to life, and you couldn't be more thankful for the jarring interruption.

"Yeah, I'll see what I can do."

But truthfully, the only thing you have any intention of doing is messaging Sunwoo as soon as you can possibly manage it.

It's a little past eleven at night and you are wearing sunglasses.

Not just sunglasses, but two jackets with both hoods pulled over your head and a scarf. Granted, it's a bit cold outside, and maybe you can get away with dressing in such a way that doesn't draw too much attention. Is it overkill? Perhaps, but you're not really willing to take any chances.

To add to the already ridiculous situation you have landed yourself in, you're a few glasses of celebratory wine in and feeling a bit bolder than you usually might. A little dizzy and a lot loose as far as decision making goes. Nobody knows where you are, at least, not yet.

You knock on the door.

The time between doing so and the door opening feels like forever, but you aren't an anticipated guest and you have to imagine that there is a kind of due diligence that must be done when it comes to unexpected visitors. You look around the halls to ensure that the coast remains clear, and then finally, the door cracks apart.

His eyes are wide, obviously surprised by your standing there. Really, who can blame him?

Smiling awkwardly, you say, "Hi, uh…"

Younghoon blinks a couple of times but doesn't immediately say anything, either. He turns to look behind him, looks back at you and then says, "You should probably get inside."

You walk in, slowly begin disrobing from all of the excess things covering your body, and then hear Chanhee let out a cackle as he peeks around the corner to see what all of the fuss is about.

Fair enough.

He yells for Sunwoo shortly after, though he does not offer additional info in doing so. You hear a door down the hall swing open, then hurried footsteps following it.

Sunwoo enters the open space, turns to look towards the door to find you, and his eyes widen like he has just seen a ghost.

"You…" he begins slowly, like he isn't quite sure what to make of what he is seeing. "Are here."

"Yeah, sure would seem to be the case, wouldn't it?"

Younghoon remains awkwardly perched by the door, and upon closing it, covers his ears and makes his way out of the line of fire.

"I don't know what this is but I don't want any part of it. I'm just going to pretend I haven't seen nor heard anything and that's going to be the end of that."

Sunwoo moves towards you, takes you by the wrist and says, "He's right, the less they know, the better."

Once inside of Sunwoo's room he offers you his seat at his desk, and takes it upon himself to settle at the edge of his bed. You've never been here before—never imagined you would be—but now that you are, it feels incredibly surreal to experience.

There's a game up on the computer monitor and a couple of empty glasses littering the table. Some pieces of clothing litter the floor, but not nearly as bad as you might have expected when deciding to show up here.

"A message would have been good," Sunwoo says.

"Kind of a last minute thing."

"Those comeback drinks hitting especially hard tonight, huh?"

You shoot him a sort of mocking expression and say, "If I had known you were going to be annoying about it I wouldn't have come at all."

Chuckling a little, Sunwoo says, "That's not true, you absolutely knew I was going to be annoying about it, which begs the question…" There's a brief passing of silence between you, as if he hopes that you'll pick up the other half without his prompting, but when you don't, he proceeds. "Why are you here?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure, myself."

"Is that the truth?"

Sunwoo's voice is soft and careful as he says it, as if presenting something to the both of you that still remains unspoken. Inside of yourself, you do know the truth, but still you dance around it as if continuing to do so will change the fact of the matter. With your hands folded in your lap, you look down at them, inhaling slowly before choosing the words that you intend to move forward with.

"What's wrong with wanting to see my—"

"Don't say your friend," Sunwoo interjects, his gaze on you firm and resolute. "We're not friends, we haven't been for a long time. People don't take risks like this for their friends, idols don't dress up like they've taken bank robbery advice from movies to visit their friends."

You close your eyes and let the words sink in. You think of Nara and her interest in Juyeon—wonder if she would be willing to do this for a chance to spend time with him—the conversation from earlier still heavy on your shoulders as if only just having happened.

"How are you not mortified by your own existence?" you ask him, voice shaky as the words leave your lips. "How are you not terrified by what you've seen happen to other people in the industry? How can you just… Throw all caution to the wind and be willing to let the pieces fall where they may?"

Looking at you, Sunwoo's lips thin into what can only be described as an adoring smile. He watches you in silence for a few moments, truly taking in the sight of you being there and vulnerable with him. Bad boy schtick be damned, he never did quite sell it as what was meant to be intended.

"We're not the first idols to date," he says quietly, "and we sure as hell won't be the last. For every one couple that gets found out, there's ten that never do. You just have to make sure you're a part of the ten."

"It's becoming harder and harder to say no to you, you make it all sound so easy."

Sunwoo shrugs, all nonchalant about the whole thing and says, "Well, it's not exactly rocket science, you know? But it'd be a lot easier if you didn't make me resort to stealing you away backstage where anyone could just wander by."

"No one makes you do that!"

"You do!" he says, pointing a finger. "Your waffling is what's making this harder! Just jump!"

Exasperated, you let out a heavy sigh and fight back by saying, "I'm here, aren't I?"

Another grin pulls at his lips, and slowly he brings himself up from the bed and towards you. Sunwoo's hands grip at the edge of his desk and box you into place beneath him, his face mere inches away from your own. "Yes, yes you are."

"We could ruin a lot of lives if this goes wrong."

Pressing forward, Sunwoo's breath is warm against the skin of your cheek, and with his lips only ghosting against your own he says, "Then we just have to make sure that it doesn't."

When his mouth finds yours, it's softer than all of the other times. There is no urgency behind it, no time limit sitting at the back of either of your minds as you allow yourself to succumb to it. Instead, this time you revel in the feeling; your worries falling away with every gentle nip of his teeth against your bottom lip.

Satisfied, Sunwoo leisurely creates space between you once again and says, "By the way, we've started filming for my drama, might need all of the practice I can get." He steals another swift kiss and then pulls away entirely in favor of happily spinning himself back to his previous position on his bed. "So, you can think of it like it's work. Actor training, and all that."

With a racing heart and electric nerves, you try to steady your thoughts enough to give anything close to a coherent response. Your phone vibrates, which almost certainly cannot be anything good, and messily digging it out of your pocket with shaky hands you say, "You want me to be your training dummy for kissing another woman? How romantic."

Sunwoo's face drops and twists into a pout. "Well, it's not when you put it like that." His attention turns to the device in your hand then and he says, "Who's messaging you?"

And you desperately wish he hadn't asked upon seeing the name pop up in your notifications.

Unfortunately, your physical reaction betrays you, and Sunwoo is far too in tuned with the goings on in front of him to not notice the shift. He squints a little as he waits for your reply, a once innocent question he has posed now morphing into knowledge that he has acquired and seeks more of.

"It's nothing," you say. "It's not important."

"Not what I asked!" He leaps out of his seat and towards you, grasping at your phone in order to get a peek of the screen. You do your best to keep it away from him; limbs flying about and giggles filling the air on account of how ridiculous this has all become. With it expertly placed behind your back and Sunwoo's hand wrapped around the wrist that keeps it from him, he pushes his face close to yours again and says, "You're being super dodgy about this, which you wouldn't be if it was one of the girls. That only means…"

Sunwoo kisses you again, this time harder and with much more intent behind the action. His free hand slips down to rest atop your thigh—you know precisely the angle he's going for—yet it does little to grant you the ability to remain firm in your defenses.

After all, he is stronger than you, and he uses this to his advantage in yanking you up from the seat, spinning you to hold your back to his chest, and turning your arm so that the screen is on full display to the both of you.

It lights up, the notification looks so much bigger than you remember it being. You're projecting, sure, but it's really not the best time for this.

Not that it's even anything, of course.

"Oh!"

You feel Sunwoo reel physically from behind you, though his grip on you doesn't let up. Instead, his head dips down so that his chin rests on your shoulder and with his face right beside your own he says, "Pretty late in the night to be getting messages from a guy." Letting go, Sunwoo spins you around to face him, crosses his arms over his chest and glares at you. "Not really ever a good time to be getting messages from him, if you ask me."

"We're just friends."

"So were we! So you'll have to forgive me for kind of knowing where that whole thing leads!"

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a sigh. "It's different. Juyeon and I have never… Anything, and he has given me no reason to believe that he might, unlike some incredibly demanding people that I know!"

Sunwoo points a finger at you again, and if there were any intention to say something in that very moment, he ultimately swallows it down in favor of not saying anything of the sort. He is clearly disbelieving to some degree, though you can't quite fathom why given the circumstances at play. Ultimately, you know well enough that jealousy makes itself something of a mainstay in every fiber of his being, and beginning to traverse new, previously uncharted waters as far as you are concerned is the lifeblood of that exact inclination.

"We're just friends," you repeat. "One of my members is interested, though."

"And how do you feel about that?"

Thinking over the question, you do your best to settle on something that is honest and thorough. You don't like it, and there is a whirlwind of feelings inside of you in relation to it that you haven't completely been able to parse through just yet. New information that requires attentiveness that you haven't been able to give it, but you do know one thing about it all.

"Annoyed." Shoving your phone back into your pocket, you look at Sunwoo like you're a little bit defeated by it all and shrug with exaggeration. "Why am I the only one who cares? Why am I the only one willing to make myself smaller so that the rest can grow?"

"I don't think that's true," Sunwoo reasons, and extending his arm out, he gently pulls your hand into his. "But I do think you have somewhat unrealistic expectations of it all, because of your background in all of this. I know you feel like there's a target on your back—and that's not entirely untrue—but you can't just… Not live your life. No one else is doing that. They never really have. It's pretend, everybody is just making it up."

"Isn't idol 101 not dating?"

The expression that comes across Sunwoo's face is one of being humored by the words, but alongside of it sits a small hint of doting patronizing.

Shaking his head, he says, "No, man. Idol 101 is simply not getting caught doing it."

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