#no like. almost kiss scenes or miscommunication or anything

[samodivaa]

permeated by jealously

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Summary: In your tight-fitting red dress, you look ravishing for the date with a Russian guy—but the moment you retort to Bucky in Russian, it begs to be ripped from your body.

Warnings: smut, angst, kitchen sex, rough/possessive, unprotected p in v, miscommunication Words: 4k

Bucky's veins are full of the serum, but at this moment, they are full with belladonna tincture, the substance of jealousy. Seeing you with another man, he speaks of Love in the past tense. The scene that plays in front of him—that guy coming to pick you up from the compound, is perfectly adapted to a temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, already a memory. For a split second you stare at each other, you smile at him ruefully. A fleeting, lasting moment for Bucky. Why do you even notice him? Seeing you happy, gives mixed colors to the air of the moment—he is lost in time, sleeping being his only lover.

Bucky wants to kiss you. Instead he puts his lips on the tumbler glass, pretending that it is you. His t-shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and he runs a hand through his hair before he puts the glass down on the kitchen counter—flashes of you in that dress that you wear for your date and the way it lifts your body up from a single look races through his head.

His cock jerks and he shakes his head, grinning as he stares down the bottle of vodka next to his cup.

And, for the first time in his innocent and confined life, he senses in himself a potential for a different corruption that takes his breath away. He doesn’t blame himself. He is a curious, wanting thing—finally, enlightened and free, but also lustful and carnal. But It stabs at him, almost like a physical pain, and he feels both deprived and angry, deprived because Bucky wishes to be with you and angry, because his own choices causes him misery. ----- “It is almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare, you're so relieved. I just wake up into another nightmare."

"And what is that nightmare, Bucky?" He keeps his blue, lusterless eyes fixed on Natasha with a calm but warm and kindly expression in them as he thinks how to say it  "My love life” “Maybe you need to ask her on a date, that’s what Vladimir does”

“Vladimir? Oh , so it is not just 'that one guy' anymore?”  he says in a quiet voice, without a trace of irritation, with a note of the simplest curiosity, his lips quivering as a forced smile comes on to his face. Nat momentarily startles. Then she starts to laugh. “You’re jealous of him?”

He clenches his jaw. “I’m not jealous,” a note of personal affront creeps into his voice “I don’t like his name”  ----- You are on a date, having fun—but anxiety grabs his mind, it is self-perpetuating. Worrisome thoughts reproduce faster than rabbits, he is trying not to lose his balance. Not yet. Especially when the jealousy sets in. 

Bucky is conscious every moment in himself of many, many elements positively swarming in him, ah these, opposite elements. He knows that they have been swarming in him since you started going out with Vladimir and they are craving some outlet from him, but he doesn't let them, would not let them, purposely would not let them come out, because he believes there is nothing so self-destroying, and so despicable, as his jealousy. He tries to appear as a hard shell on the outside when you finally enter the kitchen at 1 am—while there is a runny mess on the inside as he tenses, waiting for you to say something, anything. When you near the sink, your fingers find the curve of the faucet, the metal cool beneath the touch. He turns around to lean against the counter as you pour a cup of cold water. Bucky stares hard at you, watching you take a long drink then he follows the flick of your tongue over your bottom lip. His heart stumbles a beat. He is in such an irritated frame of mind, because of your quietness that in rude and abrupt fashion he blurts out the words:    “You must love that dress”

He takes time persing down the length of your body as you take a step back, watching you press against the counter and then back up before locking on your eyes again. You are not wearing a bra and your nipples harden from having his eyes on you. Red, the front needlessly too scandalous—at least for Bucky. The dipping v lets him see the swelled sides of your breasts pushed up and together. Just to be sure, though, a golden necklace with a teardrop pearl at the end, letting it trail just over your cleavage.

  “I didn’t know that you notice what I am wearing when I go out”

You answer, trying to look as innocent as possible. The vindictive smile that stretches on your ruined lipstick sends shivers down Bucky’s spine—did you make out with the guy, maybe more than that? You look beautiful sitting there looking at him like a she-cat. All he has to do is look at you, and he lusts. He wants to take off that delectable dress and make love to you until you don't have the energy to go out with anyone else ever again.

  “You’ve worn it for the second time. For your date.”

His gaze drops from your eyes, to the swell of your chest. Your chest tightens and you bite your lip to hide the grin wanting to escape. You notice the disgust written on his face and you laugh coldly, gaze never leaving his buff frame. With the certainty that you have well and truly punished him for not asking you on a single date. The angry, feral part of you feels so close to the surface that you can almost scent its blood-clotted fur. You want to lick the scratches you’ve made on him. You want to scratch him until he breaks apart. You gulp down the rest of your water to ease the heat flaming across your skin. Then you lick your lips. His gaze tracks the movement. You think you stopped breathing.

  “His name is Vlad” 

An audacious expression plasters on his face as you sigh in irritation at Bucky, rolling your eyes. Bucky is still leaning against the counter and rests his metal hand on the countertop while sipping vodka from the mug in his other hand. A beautiful yet deadly ornament—vibranium has no business being as hot as it is on him.

A note of personal affront creeps into his voice “Vladimir, mhm”

  “What else have you noticed about me?” your grin becomes a touch leery, innocently cocking your head to the side.

  “Try me” he says softly.

  “Favorite color?” you ask, interrogatively.

  He chuckles “Red”

  “Favorite quote?”

Your brows lift, anticipation making your nerves sing. You are not sure what he is about to say, but you have the feeling that it will be the right one, your heart leaps at the thought.

  “Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid”  he answers, this time winking at you  “I know everything about you, sweetheart”   he adds and you feel like smacking that stupid grin off his face.

His mind works well when it comes to his work as an avenger, hovering on hummingbird wings, but when it comes to you, especially when you purposely play with his jealousy, It finds a way to push through any seal of his mind, his expressions are always an array of masks he uses to cover it up his emotions—but now, it is all over his face, pure surrender, because he is affected and you can tell, he is staring impudently at you, awning for your response.

  “I prefer kotyonok. Vlad says that cognac and wine is all for the heart and that vodka is for the soul. If it's hurting real bad and you’ve never had vodka before”

His brows lift, because this does surprise him and his stomach tightens at that particular Russian word. His mouth curls into a small snarl at the thought of that stupid man calling you that. A pang of jealousy surges through him. The bad kind. The kind of longing that makes him wonder that there must be a natural comorbidity between sexual appetite and sexual jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill. He clears his throat, his face souring before his mocking tone grates:

  “Looks like you know a thing or two about me, too”   

He is trying to not be overcome by emotion. Emotion is the art of breaking hearts, minds, and tongues―but jealousy is too much, even for Bucky. He settles back into himself, shaking whatever momentary emotion flitted over his face and replacing it with a confident aura that screams laid back and in control as he cages you to the counter, his flesh hand still holding his half full cup. Your throat gurgles slightly, looking at the bigger frame towering you through your lashes like the starved woman you are. You are overwhelmed by his bold move, leaving you both speechless and breathless, but even then it is important to identify the correct emotion here—lust, a longing that goes on a loop. You try to ignore his hard cock pressing against your thigh, your attention remains on his face. You feel drunk without a drink, your nerves tighten, making your muscles clench―this is going exactly how you want. You want him to kiss you. But you make sure to keep your facial features mundane and level.   “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to think you have a crush on me, Bucky” You also ignore the annoying, visible blush on your cheeks, he must have noticed it because his expression goes grim for a second before a surprised laugh almost breaks free from his lips, responding only by a clink of his tumbler against yours. Judging by the rumble that vibrates in his chest, he likes your reaction, though the noise ends on a cynical note. His blue eyes drop to your mouth, warmth pours through your body and you moisturize your lips as he presses his knee between your legs. Right against your clit—you breathe out, a wave of pleasure sliding down your spine while Bucky just tips his glass back the last of vodka, allowing the burn to sear his throat and warm his stomach—while casually grinding his leg slowly against you, creating a sensation that has heat winding through your core and shooting down your legs.   “Na zdorovie” (cheers) You smile venomously with a kind of joyous sigh, your arrogance in this moment makes you feel very confident. Up to this moment possessiveness has not been that much of a torment, now it suddenly gnaws at his heart. As in slow motion, he pulls back to put both glasses on the counter. He realizes that you do something to him. Every time. It’s your only detriment this past month. To step on his heart—to test his feelings for you, and his jealousy already has made him erupt like a volcano. He has never been jealous before he met you. It burns. Some nights, watching you go with other men on missions, even that drives him mad. 

   “You and that fucking mouth, kotyonok” His voice sounds ill-natured, bitter, politeness that would only be laughed at, restraining an unruly nature, wary of the ways that you are trying to provoke him, but his tone shifts at the last word. Voice warm and low. Intimate. You like it this way. You like the way it sounds and it makes you gasp.   “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl?” Your character has absolutely changed. It is an entirely new and hitherto unknown being who now stands and stares at him somewhat lovingly. There is evidently, he concludes, something at work here, some storm of the mind, some paroxysm of emotion which he won’t question. When you say nothing, his hands move to your waist, his vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire. You let out a deep breath and can’t deny the strange elation you feel when you feel his hands, needing more of it, of his touch. Your pussy contracts as his hands reach around, gripping a handful of your ass, forcing you harder against his both body and leg. The grip is both bruising and possessive, controlling every movement.     “Oh, god-” You open your mouth, and Bucky dips down, catching the moan with his tongue. Satisfaction sparks in his irises and he tilts his head and keeps watching you with those fucking lethal eyes of his. Bucky gives a small grin, a fake one. The type that shows no teeth and barely lifts at the corners. You feel a very small spark to your ego, knowing you are getting a rise out of him. But all of the playfulness in the air drowns beneath the intensity of his thousand shades of blue dancing in his eyes as if he is peeling back your mental layers, his eyes looking down watching the bare length of thigh that shows through the slit in your dress. 

   “You and these dresses” he groans. Whether you want to admit it or not, physically, this man affects you more than anyone else ever has, and that causes panic to percolate through every nerve, you feel like you are losing control, but you don’t mind it. You feel vulnerable, exposed, almost at his mercy at this point. Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, but his jealousy is combined with modesty and there's even something touching about the filthy words coming out of his mouth. He wants you—and finally, he is not afraid to both tell and show it.

   “Ya ne mogu vyrazit', kak sil'no ty menya zavodish'” (I can’t explain to you how much you turn me on) Your lips part and you swallow audibly while he has the most delicious visual of his dick slipping between them, your eyes staring up at him in surprise and that sweet tongue running along the shaft. He surges forward, your face is an inch from his when you breathe out, he breaths in before crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing his lips to yours. It is not a sweet kiss. It is hard, demanding, and possessive, borne out of weeks of pent-up frustration and tension. His mouth is hungry and insistent, his tongue probing your lips, asking for greater intimacy. You grant it, tongues swirling together, yours follow his when it retreats and tasting his in return. When he finally pulls back, he rests his hands on your hips, and stares into your eyes for a minute.

  “Tvoy zapakh s uma menya svodit” (your scent drives me crazy) 

He speaks without haste, controlling himself so well, yet there is something in his voice, determined and euphoric, resentful and insolently defiant. Passion smolders in his eyes as he traces the line of your clavicle with his index flesh finger, pausing for only a fraction of a second. And then you become aware of all the magnificent silk wrapping around your body, you have the feeling that you might drown in his eyes, his two drops of winter rain.   “I would love to make love to you, but not tonight”  He studies your face, pleading silently for your approval, searching for the smallest sign, the slightest movement of your brow, the vaguest reddening of your cheeks, the surprise of your eyes. At that moment, your soul clenches as well as your pussy. The hard dick still pressing into you distracts you from replying. You can feel your panties dampening. And your nipples are suddenly incredibly sensitive, aching as they pucker against the material of your dress. Your chest warms, desire winding like a rope around your core. You think you like Bucky this way. A smile shows on your face. This would be invisible to any, but the closest scrutiny—Bucky has noticed it and taken it for his sign. Then he leans forward and presses his lips once more, his sugar roughness, his possessiveness is what you need to finally feel.   “What did you do when you went out?”   “We had a few drinks. We danced.” you reply, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. His lip quivers slightly, forcing himself to seem calm, but Bucky’s eyes are sparkling irefully, there is no doubt in his expression the full success of your endeavors to make him even more detested.   “You danced with him?” he asks, with sudden vivacity.   “Well, he is my date” You murmur, trying to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, you sense a physical weakness by the violent, unequal throbbing of your own heart, which beats visibly and audibly under the excess of agitation—but before you can even manage to open your mouth again, his metal fingers grab the front of your gown and pull it until it tears, no matter how beautiful, it was meant for another man—perfect breast on display just for him, his cock pulses at the sight. His touch tickles you on his way up to your boobs, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his palms. “Tony’s rules include no sex in the common areas” “Fuck the rules” he grits out, more animal than you have ever heard from a human. And then he gives you a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet—with the filthy touch of his hands, that unexpected warmth rushes through you. His thumbs run over the hardened peaks, making you moan and his dick is so stiff that he is worried that he might come.   “Ty moya” he says coolly. (you are mine)

   He leans in, his voice a rumble in your ear.   “Moy kotyonok” (my kitten)

Bucky moves, gripping the meat of your thighs before he spins you harshly around and bends you over the counter. Your walls are squelching around nothing as you feel him pull back, murmuring something in Russian, it is sinful—and pleasurable, drawing a muffled whimper from your mouth as you hear him tear apart your panties. You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you hear his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs before pressing his body against yours until every inch of him melds into you one more. Bucky’s metal hand grips your chin and forces your head back while the other closes around your throat as his cock presses against you—chills slide up your spine, arousal sending a shot of adrenaline through your center as you feel pre-cum on your naval. Fuck, he is huge. There is a certain satisfaction in manhandling you into this position, the flesh arm tightens around your nape, holding you close to him. 

   "How about we make a deal? You wear dresses for me and I take you out on dates?” He rambles against your ear, tongue slipping out to taste you, just a little bit. His cock nudges around your ass cheeks, to your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead with his metal hand, gliding through your delicate folds and returning his cold grasp around your chin. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you with ease, your wetness sucking him in, making it easy for him to thrust into you until he buries himself to the hilt.     “Fuck, you feel good”

Bucky moans quietly as his eyes close, focusing on feeling your cunt wrapping around his dick for the first time. His lips stay silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands hold, the way he fucks you. You want to see his face, but you can only imagine how perfect he looks.

His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind. It is an igniting feeling to have so much control over your body. It is sick and twisted, he has long learned to run from what he feels and wants, that's why he has nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control. And he needs to take control over something for once in his life. You. He has lost control over everything, even the places in his head. When your moans become too loud, his hand closes around your neck, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. His growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length.

   “Come for me, drench my dick”

He whispers, fucking his cock against your cervix. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath as you struggle to breathe. Jealousy…teeth dragging against your skin, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples, shooting up and down your spine as his thrusts never falter, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb.

Lust is the best of all the deadly sins, you realize as he pulls out and helps you go back on your shaky feet. It all happened too fast. You only wanted a kiss. You push his chest like you want him off of you, but your fingers have Bucky’s shirt clutched in them and he knows you are full of shit. You want him. 

   “I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't.” The timbre of his voice goes into that low register that makes your insides curl in on themselves. You want that tongue to swipe your sex like licking the frosting off a cupcake. It is the sexual chemistry you want more of. It is electric. But guilt sets in. You are feeling torn between your commitment to building a relationship with Vlad while engaging with Bucky, in a way it feels like cheating. A part of you is hoping someone from the team would wake up and catch you, so you wouldn't have to live with this lie. But no one wakes up and in the silence that follows, you understand the nature of your new curse: you are going to get away with it. Your silence hurts him, his mouth tightens. But there are some wounds that he can heal only by deepening them and making them worse. And yet, sometimes facts are no more than pitiful consequences, Bucky knows how the public will perceive you if you are dating the former Winter Soldier. Seeing you standing there unresponsive makes him realize that silence has a sound—he knows that you regret sleeping with him. You are the people's favorite Avenger, the one everyone look up to with admiration and reverence—he is sure that you are thinking about it, but he understands. The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put his finger on—and he should be sad, but instead, he feels nothing. He feels a lot of nothing these days. He is empty, as if whatever makes him feel and hurt and laugh and love has been surgically removed, leaving him hollowed out like a shell. This is for your happy ever after, Vlad might be a stupid Russian, but he is at the very core of his existence—a real human. He turns around and paces the room, as if he can leave his regret, you, behind. But it cracks you as you see him walk away, leaving you naked like an ugly shadow made by himself. You have mistaken his lust for love. Regret. It turns into anger, into hatred. And where there is anger there is always pain underneath. You eventually come to understand that in harboring the anger, the bitterness and resentment towards Bucky who has hurt you, you are giving the reins of control over to him—maybe It’s time to finally say “yes” to being Vlad’s girlfriend.

[carowleysposts]

What happened to Aziraphale and Crowley between 1941 and 1967?

It is well known by the fandom that Aziraphale realizes he’s in love with Crowley after Crowley saves him and his books from the n4zis in 1941. That moment marks the shift of their relationship, when Aziraphale sees that not only did Crowley know him well enough to save his books, but also was there for the sole purpose of rescuing him - because he cared. This moment led to their most romantic adventure yet, which involved the car “is there anything i can do for you in return?” scene, the magic trick performance, the “trust me” moment and a very intimate, private, candlelit dinner.

They had crossed a very visible line in their relationship, you could see it in the way they were looking at each other, being more open, talking and drinking together. They were acting romantically towards each other, even if they couldn’t admit it or talk about it.

But then, the next time we see them, it’s almost like they moved backwards in they’re relationship. Aziraphale is practically unable to look directly at Crowley when he first gets in the car. And then we get the iconic, yet heartbreaking and confusing “you go too fast for me, Crowley”. And you can see that Aziraphale looks almost mournful after saying that.

I saw a post on twitter comparing the two car scenes - the one where Aziraphale is practically throwing himself at Crowley and then the one where he’s hesitant towards him.

And it made me think. Like, whatever happened between those two car scenes has an impact that lasts for many years, as we can CLEARLY see that 2008 Aziraphale and Crowley were still a bit colder and more distant than their 1941 selves. Their relationship backtracked a lot from that candlelit dinner. And i don’t think that’s a plot hole, i truly think there’s something we don’t know yet.

Of course, after the events of season one, they’re back to being really close, their dynamic is pretty much restored and we can see them hold hand in the bus - which David Tennant has confirmed happened, and it is heavily implied that Aziraphale stays at Crowley’s that night, where they did the body swap for the trials.

BUT! In the first episode of Season 2, Aziraphale mentions that he had to do the “i’m sorry” dance in 1941. It definitely happened after that candlelit dinner, so could that event - which led to the apology dance - be connected to why they had a temporary falling out? What was it that happened after that dinner? Are we going to see more from 1941?

It has been the only time period that was shown in both seasons, and it was perhaps the most romantic and significant time they’ve spent together prior to the events of season two. Perhaps they went a little too far and weren’t prepared for that? Perhaps they’ve miscommunicated and had a big fight? I don’t know, i’m hoping our dearest @neil-gaiman has an answer for that.

Also, when Crowley says “no nightingales” before kissing Aziraphale, Aziraphale seems to understand perfectly what he’s referring to. He looks absolutely crushed after Crowley says that. So it led me to believe something in the past made them associate “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” to their relationship and perhaps talk about it. And i believe that, if i am correct and they have talked about the nightingales before, it was in 1941. But then, what do I know?

I would REALLY love to see your theories as to what happened between them after that dinner, if anything at all. Also, does anyone wanna be moots? My posts have been very successful but i’m not getting followers and i really want to meet more of you.

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 7

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] Part 7: [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Angry Sex, Nightmares, Domesticity, Morning Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

Glimpses of every day life and sharing an apartment with Carmy.

"I'm sorry, okay? I am! I won't use your ingredients without asking- just- please calm the fuck down!"

Your small argument from closing time had escalated on the way home to the point where you were screaming at each other by the time you slammed the apartment door behind you and followed Carmy to the bedroom. You had fought before, of course you had. But this was probably the worst one so far.

Carmy stood on the opposite corner of the room, hands on his hips, breathing heavily.

"Do you know how fucking expensive imported black garlic is?"

"I don't, but I have the feeling you're going to tell me," you spat, petty, the whole sentence leaving a bitter taste inside your mouth. You backtracked."I'm sorry. I'll pay for it, okay?" you tried to appease him even as your blood was boiling. "Listen, when I moved in, I was ready to make some compromises. I downsized my closet, I sold some furniture-"

"I didn't ask you to do any of that," Carmy interrupted you.

"Carm," you gave him a stern look. "I'm only saying that you could be more understanding about shit like this. We share the fridge and the pantry. I'm sorry I assumed I could use the stuff inside without asking, it will not happen again," you repeated, then inhaled deeply. "Just- I can't help feeling this isn't about that."

Carmy looked red in the face, angry like you had only seen him inside the kitchen, pacing and flexing his fingers. You couldn't believe he was actually losing his shit so severely over a steak and some garlic - even if it was a super expensive steak and black garlic.

He looked at the ceiling. "It is about you touching my shit without asking. It is about you leaving your things on the kitchen table when I need it to work-" he clenched his jaw. "I'm sick and tired of not knowing where anything is in my own fucking apartment!"

You had organized the closet to fit your stuff, and  put Carmy's vintage denim and your bigger dresses in storage. You still had to get a desk for your sewing machine and work stuff, in the meantime it had stayed on the kitchen table, which, in your defense, had remained unused for most of your stay.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked in exasperation. "I've been living here for three weeks! You could have said something instead of bottling it up until it was-" you gestured vaguely in his direction, "whatever this is!"

"I like you being here, I didn't want to scare you off!" Carmy groaned.

"Carm, did you think I would leave if we didn't agree on where the shirts are supposed to go?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Dunno!"

"You can tell me things, Carm!" you crossed the room until he was close enough to touch. His eyes looked like the sky before a storm. "You can tell me anything."

"Then why are you so fucking mad?" he said defiantly.

"Because I don't like when you yell at me like I'm just another chef in your fucking kitchen," you said, it was something you had been keeping quiet since your fight started. "I'm not getting paid to put up with this shit."

It struck Carmy completely quiet. And you regretted it the moment it left your lips. You had almost found some middle ground and you had trampled all over it. He took a step closer and stared at you, his eyes dark and angry, the space between you felt charged.

Before you knew what was going on, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and kissed you roughly, biting on your lips, mouth wide open. You pressed on his chest with your hands - you were still too mad at him. But his hands were strong and his tongue was relentless and you could feel yourself getting wet from the mixture of anger and lust - and who knew those two emotions were so close to each other?

"Fuck, I can stop," he said, barely separating his lips from yours, breathing hard. "You want that?"

You pulled on his shirt, bringing him towards you, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Then, using that same grasp, you moved him to the edge of the bed and pushed him hard, his curls bouncing as he fell on his back.

"I want you to fucking apologize, Carmen," you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. You leaned over and trapped his wrists with your hands, above his head. Even putting all your strength into it, he could wiggle himself free at any moment, but he didn't; he stayed down and looked at you hungrily.

"I'm sorry," he said, a little too cocky for your taste, a smirk barely hidden on the side of his face.

You ground your hips against his, feeling his cock harden underneath you. He rolled his eyes and arched his neck. He looked beautiful, like a marble statue.

"What was that?" you asked, stopping your movement abruptly and getting close to his face.

He whined. "I'm sorry," and it sounded more truthful this time.

"Mhmm, that's more like it."

You kept holding both of Carmy's wrists with one hand, while the other moved downward, going underneath his shirt and playing with his nipple, massaging and pinching gently until he closed his eyes and hummed in bliss. Then you stopped.

"Fuck you," he said, letting out some leftover venom from your fight. 

You smirked - why was this so hot?

You got your answer immediately after, when Carmy got free and turned you over, fast and aggressive, like he rarely was in the bedroom. He caged you with his arms and legs, all taut muscle and shaking breaths.

"What about you?" he said, his voice low.

"What about me?" you tilted your head. "I apologized like ten times, Carm. And I meant it."

"You said some fucked up things just now," his breath tickled your face as he studied you from every angle, like he was a wild animal and you were his prey.

"I did," you admitted. You arched your neck, trying to get close and... What? Kiss him? Bite him? You weren't sure. He put one hand on your throat, not quite a caress, closing his tattooed fingers around it. You squeezed your thighs together, blood flowing with need. "I meant some of that too."

"Which part?"

"That I don't like when you yell at me," you said honestly, the moment a little cheapened with how horny you sounded.

"That all?" Carmy's voice had turned hoarse from screaming and you wished you didn't find it so attractive.

"Yeah," you exhaled.

"Good," he said dryly and got up, freeing you, but you remained immobile.

Suddenly, he yanked hard on your jeans and underwear, leaving you bare in seconds.

"Fuck, Carmy."

You hated how needy you sounded, how wrecked you felt as he licked his hand and finally put his fingers inside you, how good he was at making you crumble... You let out a pleading and pathetic sound as he touched your clit roughly and finger fucked you a little too hard.

Then, he took his fingers out without a warning, leaving you empty and out of breath; his hands ghosted the insides of your thighs. You grabbed at his wrist, begging to be touched again. Carmy climbed on the bed instead, hovering above you, kissing you ferociously.

"Eager?" he teased when you started raising your hips to rub on his jeans.

"Impatient," you replied, trying to wind him up.

It worked - his eyes darkened again.

"Hands above your head," he ordered and you obeyed. He took your shirt off carelessly, your bra was almost spilling out with how forceful he was being but he didn't bother taking it off. The whole thing was angry, urgent, and so fucking hot. Carmy was undoing his belt and you used the pause to scoot backwards, just enough to reach your bedside table.

"Hurry the fuck up!" You threw a condom at him, hitting him square on the face.

Carmy gave you a look that was half exasperation, half amused lust. He unbuttoned his jeans just enough to take his cock out, then threw the empty wrapper back at you. He grabbed your legs and dragged you closer, forcefully, the duvet wrinkling underneath you.

"I swear I'm gonna-"

You didn't let him finish. You fisted the collar of his t-shirt and brought him down to kiss, biting on his lower lip, then soothing with your tongue. You opened your legs wide and tugged at the belt loops of his jeans - there was something arousing about him being almost completely clothed and you being almost naked.

"Fuck me, please, fuck me," you begged into his mouth, way past any sense of pride you had at the beginning of the fight. Carmy wasn't any better, rushing to obey the moment you said it.

"Fucking need it," he groaned as he entered you. It wasn't clear if he was talking about you or him - not that you had time to think about it before he started pounding into you. You felt every inch of Carmy's cock as it went in and out.

"So fucking good," you rasped to the side of his face. It spurred him on and made him go faster and harder - your moans got louder and louder. He covered your mouth with his hand.

"The fucking mouth on you," he mumbled low. You clenched your pussy in retaliation and watched as he rolled his eyes and lost his rhythm. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me."

You ran your hands under his shirt, tracing the contour of his muscles, feeling them quiver and strain as Carmy tried his damnedest to keep going, one hand on the mattress and the other keeping you quiet. Part of you smiled in satisfaction knowing he was getting tired and wouldn't last.

"Shit. Fuck me," he whined and stopped for a moment, sweating and panting. He finally uncovered your mouth, conceding defeat.

"Want me to take over?" you asked with a chuckle.

Carmy sighed and fell on the mattress beside you. "Still mad at you," he said, the sound pitiful with how hard he was breathing.

"Good to know," you climbed on top of him, straddling, lowering yourself on his cock, making him arch his back with pleasure. "I'm still mad too."

You rode him mercilessly, your hips slamming against his, hands on his chest, his eyes marveling at the bounce of your breasts. You took him right to the edge and left him hanging, the veins of his neck bulging as he groaned in frustration.

You clicked your tongue, swaying gently. "Not coming until I do."

"Yeah?" he arched his eyebrows, taking the challenge for what it was.

His hand moved from gripping your hip to where your bodies connected, his thumb finding your clit and caressing it. Your legs shook involuntarily, a spark going through you.

He grinned.

"Oh, fuck you," you sighed, your neck arched, looking at the ceiling while you bounced on his cock. He knew just what he was doing - making you tremble and moan with every gentle touch.

"Come on," he urged you, meeting your thrusts, fucking into you, hitting your G spot almost by mistake.

"Fuck," you gasped, biting your lip to stop from screaming.

You rode him much faster, something desperate and feral taking over you. Carmy's eyes widened when your walls started fluttering around his cock.

"Are you-? Can I-?" he asked in a choked out voice.

"Yes, yes," you managed to say, squeezing the wrist of the hand that was touching your clit so deliciously as your orgasm started taking over every one of your senses. "Yes, Carmy."

He tensed underneath you, flushed all over, eyes closed, and his lips forming a beautiful 'O'. You stared, waiting patiently for him to open his eyes.

He looked up at you, soft, grateful, a smile curling his lips.

"C'mere," he beckoned you downwards, meeting you with relieved kisses, breathy laughter filling the space between you. He caressed your back, tugging on your bra straps until you were somewhat covered again. The tenderness of the gesture warmed you all over.

"You okay?" Carmy asked and you nodded, nuzzling your nose against his in the process. A pause. "Hey. I am sorry. I was angry and-"

"I know," you fixed his hair, all sweaty and sticking on his forehead. "I'm sorry too."

He kissed your shoulder lovingly.

"I like you being here," he said. "I just- I need time to figure it out. That okay?"

"Yeah," you traced the line of his nose with your finger. "We'll figure it out together, baby."

You kissed him sweetly and he rolled you over to your side.

"I'll go to the thrift store tomorrow," you said, cupping his face. "Buy a desk and shit."

Carmy smiled. "I'll fix the pantry. Put labels on my shit. Make room for your things."

"I think that's the most romantic thing you've said to me," you joked, giggling when he tickled your sides.

"Shut the fuck up!"

He laughed with you, leaving kisses on your face and throat.

~

You woke up to the sound of Carmy talking in his sleep. Most of it was gibberish, quiet mumbles as he thrashed on the bed, the one word you could make out was 'Mikey' - over and over. He winced and let out a pained sound. You got closer and held him, your arm across his chest.

You knew he had nightmares, you'd been there for a couple of them, but sleeping every night with him meant you saw much more of it. It broke your heart how many you had missed, how bad he hurt...

"It's okay, Carmy," you soothed softly. "I'm here, baby, it's okay."

He woke up with a startle, breathing fast.

"Fuck, sorry," he sat up and ran his hands over his face. "Bad dream."

"I know," you waited for him to settle, giving him space.

After a while, he laid back next to you. You moved slowly, gently, touching the side of his face and caressing his hair, calming him down.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh," Carmy looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard, "there was a fire. Just so much smoke," he cleared his throat. "And, uh, Mike was there." There was a long pause. "Did I ever tell you he planned to set the restaurant on fire?"

"What?" you froze.

He hummed. "To cash the insurance money, you know," he reached for your free hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing them close to his chest; his heart was pounding.

"I'm sorry, Carm," you waited for him to say something but he stayed silent, vacant. "It feels so weird that I never met him."

"Probably for the better, to be honest," he said dryly. There was something dark about the way he said it.

"Hey," you squeezed his hand, trying to ground him. "What'd you like about him?"

"About Mike?" he said looking at you. "Uh- He was warm. He told the best stories, took care of Nat and me, gave the best hugs... A real big brother, you know?"

You nodded.

"Started getting tattoos because of him," he said, flexing his hands to show the ink on them. "He was so cool, and I wanted to be that."

"I think you're pretty cool," you said sweetly, kissing his knuckles.

"Thanks," he said through a sad smile. "Richie says he was all wrong by the end of it..."

"Wrong how?"

"He wasn't warm anymore, he was, uh, like a fryer fire, I guess. His stories didn't make sense. Kept forgetting shit. A mess, you know?"

"Maybe that's why he pushed you away," you said softly. You knew Carmy felt guilty for his time in New York. "He wanted you to remember him like he was before."

"Maybe," he conceded, looking up at the ceiling.

You stayed like that for a while, caressing his arm, tracing lines on his skin.

"Would you-" he said, then stopped.

You turned to face him. "Yes?"

"Would you hold me?" Carmy asked, his blue eyes open and vulnerable.

"Of course," you smiled and shifted on the bed to spoon him, his back to your chest, your arms around him, leaving gentle kisses on his shoulder blade. You could feel his heartbeat settle as he went back to sleep.

"Love you, Carm," you said right before you drifted off.

~

You woke up to the feeling of Carmy kissing your face softly. You hummed, content. When you opened your eyes, the bright light of late morning was all over your bedroom.

"Didn't hear you coming in last night," you said, your voice raspy with sleep.

"Got in late. Bad day," he raised his hand to touch your hair, staring at the way it caught the light. "Nat forced me to take today off."

"That bad?" you asked, a little concerned.

Carmy moved his fingers to the worry lines on your face, soothing.

"Not really. Someone talked about work life balance in her last Al-family meeting and she's all about that shit right now," he smiled. You loved to see how he looked soft with sleep, relaxed for a little while.

"Have I told you I really like her?"

"You might have," he said playfully, then leaned over to kiss you. It was a gentle thing, his lips lazy on yours and his body flushed as he hugged you.

You took his shirt off, not out of lust, just wanting to get more warmth from his skin on yours. You slowly started kissing his tattoos. You liked the ones on his arms and hands; they were familiar, whenever you thought of Carmy it was the image you conjured. But you loved his other tattoos, the ones nobody else saw, the secrets he kept and only shared with you. You left kisses on his shoulder and his chest, running your fingers on the ink on his ribs and right above his hip bone.

"I've missed you, Carm," you confessed.

It had been a hectic couple of weeks. You had barely seen each other, mostly just sleeping on the same bed, saying good night and good morning before each of you left for work.

"Missed you too," he replied.

His hands roamed your body, tugging gently at the fabric of your sleep shirt, helping you out of it, all while kissing you. You melted in his arms, pliant as he rolled you over and started leaving pecks on your skin.

"Carmy," you sighed. His lips left imprints on your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and your chest. He stayed there, kissing the top of your breasts, the side, the valley between them, and your nipples. Your pulse was racing and you wondered whether he could feel it with his mouth.

"You're so soft," he said, his exhale giving you goosebumps. "Smell so nice."

"You smell nice too, baby," you giggled. Carmy's hair still had a lavender-like scent from his night shower.

"Mmm..."

He kept kissing. Your belly, your hip, the wrinkle that formed between your mound and your thigh. There was something so like devotion in the way that he moved; it wasn't about filling some selfish need to get his dick wet, he wanted you to feel loved.

"C’mere," you called him back up, to kiss his lips fervently, your hands buried in his hair. When you parted, he smiled, his eyes were still sleepy. He looked so comfortable, so soft...

Your hand traced again that tattoo on his hip, then moved downward, to the hair on his navel, and lower, touching him over his boxers. He was half hard, his nose buried in your neck. When he groaned, his chest rumbled against yours.

"So nice," he said. "’m too fucking tired to fuck you like you deserve, though."

Your free hand caressed the back of Carmy's neck, holding him closer.

"Just want you to relax, make you feel good," you whispered, moving the hand on his cock back and forth, slow, loving.

He moaned, then shifted a little on the bed. You didn't realize why he was moving until his hand snaked its way inside your shorts.

"Oh," you squirmed a little at the feeling of his fingers.

"Too cold?" Carmy asked.

"No, it's okay," you leaned to kiss him. "It's okay," you repeated.

You kept on touching and kissing, everything in that sort of clumsy haze, one of your legs over his. You needed this: being with him without the rush of being late, no urgency, no fucking as fast as you could before Carmy had to run to the restaurant. You had all the time in the world - you could count the freckles on his face and stare at the blue in his eyes as he mumbled sweet nothings into the morning air.

His free hand touched your wrist, guiding it to the head of his cock, the sluggish rhythm you had set just enough to make him roll his eyes and kiss you hard, drowning a whine against your lips as he released.

"Love you so much," Carmy mumbled.

You kissed the side of his face. "I love you, I love you," your voice came out choked and high.

Without you noticing, the constant massaging between your folds had built up too. You came with a long exhale, closing your eyes for a moment, lightly squeezing his side.

"Wanna stay here forever," he said after a while of just looking at you and caressing your back.

"Just sleeping and fucking all day," you replied tiredly.

"I'd like that."

~

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 8]

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[sungbeam]

nonidol!kim sunwoo x f!reader

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

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

▷ word count. 28.7k help TT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sunwoo’s phone: yes or no

tree rat: no

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He reddened. The crosswalk turned green.

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

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

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

EPISODE TWO: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY.

three months later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The notification… the tweet…

Oh no.

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

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

"How bad?" He asked.

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

"I'm—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dude," he said out loud to himself.

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

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

A guy could dream though, right?

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

Wednesday. Today was Wednesday.

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo?”

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

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

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

“Get scared easy?” You offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE THREE: HEART TO HEART

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yah! Nobody asked for specifics!"

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

Changmin snickered. "Chicken."

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

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

A guy could dream, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anonymous: yeah fs haha

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

"Oh! Yeah, haha, sorry about that—”

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh oh,” Sunwoo joked.

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

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

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

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

“But!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anon: yeah nothing really serious lol

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he a dance major?”

rhapsody anon: he is

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

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

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

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

Oh, right. Sunwoo bit his lip.

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

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

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

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

“Even you?”

rhapsody anonymous: esp me

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

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

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

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

“Someone just needs to tell Ouyang to chill!”

“Uh-huh.”

“For sure.”

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

“Ow!” He hissed, furiously rubbing the place at his forehead that had collided with the nape of Eric’s neck.

“You’re not paying attention,” said Eric, flatly. He turned to Jacob, who also wasn’t paying attention. “Hyung!”

Jacob’s head lifted from where he was busy smiling down at some orange cat video. “What? Nacho’s learning the periodic table—” He flipped his phone around to show Eric, his face immediately lighting up as he forgot about why he was even mad in the first place.

The three of them were currently in the front half of the performing arts building, heading inwards from the main hall to the backstage area where a couple of their friends were already hanging out. Sunwoo had bumped into Jacob and Eric on his way from one of the campus libraries, and with nothing else better to do (than to study), he tagged along to go find someone to bother. (Jacob and Eric were both STEM majors though, which was weird to Sunwoo since… well, shouldn’t they be bunkered up somewhere trying to survive this quarter’s dead week? Anyways…)

Sunwoo sighed and brushed past his two friends to venture deeper into the building. He could already hear somebody’s music blasting from the sound booth as they rehearsed onstage. Over the past several weeks, everyone had been busy preparing for the winter showcase happening at the end of finals week, right before spring break. Ever since Sunwoo’s talk with you over livestream, he had felt a little better about not joining Changmin and Juyeon on stage this year. Plus, from what he could tell when he watched them practice, they already looked pretty much perfect with just the two of them.

Though, there would always be a part of him that wished he really had the courage to go up there and show the audience what he was made of.

Sunwoo wandered into the main auditorium with his hands tucked into his pockets and the doors closing softly behind him. There was indeed a group practicing their number on the stage at the moment. He could even make out the shapes moving from behind the curtains in the wings as other tech members and dancers rushed to and fro to get to where they needed to. Somewhere in that mass of chaos were his friends.

A familiar voice had him lifting his head toward the sound booth. His eyes widened when he recognized you standing in the booth with Bang Chan, one of the more prominent sound and lighting directors working here at the performing arts center. However, it looked like you were leaving, your hands clumsily wrestling with the zipper on your bag while you continued your conversation with Chan, and while attempting to walk backwards out of the sound booth.

Oh my god, you were going to trip on something if he didn’t help—

Both Sunwoo and Chan pounced toward you as the thought occurred to both of them at the same time.

“Yn, careful!” Sunwoo yelled, as he dove for your phone.

Chan steadied you at the bicep, and you hugged your bag to your chest with a flustered grin. “Oops?”

Chan ruffled your hair as he let you go, nodding his hello to Sunwoo, then ducking back into the booth. You stepped out into the main room and shut the door behind you. “Thanks,” you said to him sheepishly, accepting your phone from him.

The two of you naturally fell into step with one another and Sunwoo let you lead him back out towards the main entrance again. “I didn’t know you worked behind the scenes here,” he told you, cupping the back of his head. If he racked his brain, he couldn’t recall hearing about it from your podcast either. “This is the second time I’ve seen you here,” he chuckled.

You stopped for a minute in the middle of the hallway to get a hold of your things. You had to hike your knee up to properly zip your backpack before hauling it over your shoulder. “Oh, that’s right! Just a couple days ago you were here with your friends, right?”

He gave a bashful sort of grin. He had been here a couple days ago when he came to bother Changmin, and ended up hanging out backstage while Hyunjae’s best friend hosted auditions for her play. It was then that he had seen you hustling about with the Lee Jihoon about lights. He’d been caught so off-guard by seeing you; it was a miracle he managed to even get Changmin to forget about that whole interaction. “Yeah, sorry I was kind of… weird. I didn’t expect you, that's all.”

“Lots of surprise run-ins with us, huh,” you teased, the side of your arm bumping with his as you walked.

Us.

“It’s nice to see you more often though.”

You nodded. “The feeling’s mutual, Sunwoo. Thanks for warning me earlier; I’m usually more careful with my stuff, especially when I’ve got special cargo.” As you said this, you reached back to pat your backpack affectionately.

Sunwoo lifted a brow, opening the door for you as the two of you stepped out into the lobby. “Oh? What kind of special cargo?”

The smile on your face widened. “It’s, uhm, a recording mic, actually! I’ve been coming by to intern around the tech side of things here, and Chan and Jihoon give me some tips about music production, too.” You trailed off, an idea taking hold in your head, and that wide beam from just seconds ago became this shy, little thing. “Hey… would you maybe be up to listening to something of mine? I mean, it’s kind of a weird request, but your music taste from first quarter was top notch—”

“Yes,” Sunwoo said, without even waiting for you to finish your rambling.

You paused, and he rejoiced in the pure delight on your face. “Really? That’s—this is great. Wait, I’m so excited! We’ll need to find a private place to listen, but—”

“Oh my gosh, Yn?”

Coming in from the front lobby doors was none other than Han Jisung, a fellow second-year whom Sunwoo was familiar with. He was bundled in a massive, puffy cream jacket with his head shoved into a beanie, and his nose was reddened from the cold. Jisung tucked the earbuds in his ears away into their case, waddling over to you both with the joy of a baby penguin. “And Sunwoo! Woah, it’s so cool to see you, man. What’s up?”

Sunwoo clasped his hand in his. “S’cool to see you, too, dude. Yn and I were just on our way out.”

Jisung moved over to you and pulled you in for an affectionate side hug. “Oh, well, that’s nice to hear,” he snickered, wagging his eyebrows at you while you sent him a pointed look.

Wonder what that was all about…

“Anyways,” continued Jisung, “I just came by to bother Channie-hyung. Is he in the box?”

You bobbed your head in affirmation. “Yup. There isn’t anyone else with him right now, so I’m sure there’ll be plenty of space for you to bug him.”

“Nice,” he grinned. As he walked away in the direction from which you and Sunwoo came, he sent a wave. “See you both around!”

“Bye!” Both you and Sunwoo called back before resuming your walk out the front entrance.

“So how do you—” The two of you laughed when you both started talking at the same time, saying the same thing. Sunwoo gestured toward you, insisting that you ask the question first. You did: “So how do you know Jisung?”

Sunwoo snorted at the memory. “I, uh, saw him in the hall once and smacked his ass, then asked for his number.”

You had to stop to double over in laughter, clutching your stomach while Sunwoo looked on in flustered amusement. Your face had heated up considerably, and you barely managed to follow him down the steps toward the bus stop. “You what?” You asked, once you could get out anything other than wheezes.

He chuckled, shrugging. “Okay, well, I actually know him from this music summer camp we both went to in high school. I didn’t realize he came to this uni until I saw him last year and… well, made my presence known to him.”

You clapped your hands together and collapsed onto the bus bench. “I was gonna say—that’s one hell of a hello.”

“It’s a true story,” he insisted.

“Oh, I believe you.”

The two of you shared a laugh for a moment and Sunwoo took a seat beside you, his knee bouncing up and down as you waited for the bus to come by. He nudged your shoulder with his. “So what about you then? How do you know Han?”

“Hm? Ah, I just know him ‘cause we share the same major-ish. I’m sound and music production, and he’s just a general music major,” you explained. “We also share a composition class, as well as a writing course. Did you know the guy is a fantastic poet?”

Sunwoo’s eyebrows arched upward. “I would not be surprised; the guy’s an ace.”

“Totally agree.” You fidgeted with your phone between your hands. “He was also one of my first friends here after I transferred. He’s kind of shy, but he’s one of the good eggs you can meet.”

A nod. He glanced over at you, his eyes breathing in the far away look on your face. “Yeah, he is. But hey, at least you got to befriend him then, hm? Maybe some things are just meant to be.”

You met his gaze and Sunwoo felt his heart stutter into a gallop. “Yeah,” you murmured, “I think so, too.”

— ✶

You and Sunwoo ended up in one of the booths of the restaurants on the Avenue. It was a cozy, little hole in the wall with soup that tasted like home and made your belly feel warm and content. You had set up shop at your table, your laptop with the audio file pulled up and your wired earbuds plugged in. You had to power all of your will into not showing Sunwoo how nervous you were for him to listen to this—your fingers shook slightly even as you passed him both of your earbuds.

In an attempt to pass off as cool, calm and totally collected, you brought your glass of water to your mouth to sip on. You'd thought to order food first, then let Sunwoo listen to the file.

"Let me know if you can't hear anything," you blurted out just before he put the buds in.

He paused, then smiled. "I got it," he assured you warmly.

Once the buds were fitted and the song started playing, you could only wait and watch to gauge his reaction.

At first, his eyes widened a smidge. Then he slowly began nodding to the beat, eyes falling closed as he soaked in the electric guitar chords mixed in that Jisung helped you out with. You watched him lean back in his seat… saw the smile bloom on his face, wide like a flower opening its petals to greet the brilliant sun.

And that beautiful smile… oh, he was so pretty when he smiled.

It was a couple minutes later that his eyelids finally fluttered open, and yet that smile on his face remained ingrained there. He passed you your earbuds as you awaited the verdict. "Girl, you've got pipes," he said with emphasis, his face screwed up in an expression one could only describe as appreciative. "Like—oh my god, I want that bridge tattooed on my forehead," he groaned and leaned forward to bury his face in his palms.

Your heart could fly, soar, literally ascend to fucking space! You smiled, big and wide, as you wrapped up the wire chords around three fingers. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Liked it?" He perked up, then melted to the table as he mumbled into his hoodie sleeve, "I could kis…" You didn't catch the end bit of his sentence as his voice dissipated into the fabric of his shirt.

"What'd you say?"

When he lifted his head, his cheekbones had flushed a shade of rose gold. He cupped the back of his neck with a nervous laugh, "Nothing! It was nothing. I just—I just love it, Yn. Really, I mean it. I'm not just saying that because we're friends—"

"Ah, so we're friends?" You jested, even as your heart skipped like a pebble across the surface of a lake.

Sunwoo blinked, lips pursed. "We're not friends?"

"No, I'm only kidding!" You said and leaned your cheek against your fist. "Your reaction was cute though."

You swore something shuddered across his face, but you didn't have much time to analyze it when you felt a presence make himself clear at the head of the table.

Yangyang appeared in a warm-looking jacket and scarf, his eyes flickering curiously between you and Sunwoo. You suddenly felt an anxious spike in your chest at the thought of what this might have looked like to him. That was, until he saw the laptop, of course. You saw the relief in his shoulders, the ease in which he smiled now. "Hey Yn-ie, didn't know you'd be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo scratch his jawline, then scoot forward and offer his hand to Yangyang. "Hey, I'm Sunwoo. You're Yangyang, aren't you?"

Yangyang clasped Sunwoo's hand good naturedly with a typical gummy smile. "Yeah, that's me. It's nice to meet you."

"I was just showing him the project," you said next, drawing both of the boys' attention to you.

"Ah," your friend nodded. "How'd you like it, Sunwoo?"

Sunwoo lit up. "It was—incredible. I don't even know how to describe it, y'know? If it was on my Spotify, it'd probably be on my Wrapped."

There went your heart, goodness. You and Sunwoo locked eyes across the table, and you wished you could convey how much his words meant to you by just a look.

"Totally agree," Yangyang nodded. "My Yn-ie's got a gift and she knows how to use it." He gave your head a gentle pat, and heat rose to your cheeks from the bombardment of attention. It hit you subtly, an epiphany—

Yangyang cleared his throat then and returned his hand to his side. "Anyways, I'll leave you two to it. I'll talk to you later?" He asked you as he was already taking a step backward.

—the heat wasn't for him. It simply wasn't.

"Yeah! I'll shoot you a text later," you promised. You realized then that you had barely even spoken to Yangyang since your Valentine's Day date ended several weeks ago. There had just been a lot of mixed feelings churning around in your head that needed time to be sorted out. (And it was currently being resolved.) With a slight inward grimace, you turned your focus back to the guy you'd brought here in the first place.

Sunwoo slid your laptop over to your side of the table. "Soooo… you and Yangyang, huh?" He laughed, and you weren't certain, but it sounded a bit unsteady.

You played with the hem of your sweater sleeve. "I mean, kind of? Not really? We went on that date a while back, if you remember, but that's about it."

He leaned in. "Yeah, I remember."

"Yeah, and we also haven't had time to really properly talk since?" You winced. "I guess it's not really as bad as I make it sound. It's just that, we've pretty much known each other since primary school. He had just moved from Taiwan, and we were pretty good friends. And he would move back and forth between here and this one town in Germany, but we would always—" you made a vague gesture, "—find each other? Is that the word?"

You let out a breathy sort of laugh. "I'm sorry, I dunno why I'm telling you my history with this guy. It's stupid."

Sunwoo frowned and shook his head. "It's not stupid, Yn."

You inhaled, then chewed on your cheek. "It's just that I always feel like people don't really stick around, at least for me. But Yangyang… he's been one of the few constants in my life, and I'm really grateful for that."

"I'm sensing there's a 'but' with this."

You indulged him. "But I'm starting to think that maybe I can't really see him as that kind of constant, if that makes sense." Your brows furrowed in thought. The boat you were on rocked roughly with the waves, the water turbulent and unsteady, as if at any moment it could throw you off. But you were used to the rocking, and you weren't sure why you should be so used to it. Settling for Yangyang even though you were beginning to realize that he probably wasn't The One? That was like staying docked in a home port you'd grown used to when you yearned for the horizon.

You heard Sunwoo crack his knuckles, and perhaps there really was a certain sheen to his eyes then. "I don't want to put words in your mouth," he drawled carefully, "and I can't imagine how exactly you feel and I don't know your whole story. But it has to be hard when it feels like, I don't know, like people are moving on without you." The earnestness in his eyes made his dark brown eyes deeper and richer. "And maybe it's comfortable with Yangyang and you want to try with him because you know that you two will always somehow find each other again."

"You kind of put what I was thinking into coherent sentences there," you mused, the corners of your lips curling upward.

Sunwoo reflected your expression. "That's good to hear, because I was pretty sure I sounded arrogant."

You laughed then, shaking your head. "No, I appreciated that. And you got it right." Breathing a sigh, you saw a waiter coming by to drop off the food the two of you had ordered. "I think it's just taken me some time with myself and with—with other people to make me realize it."

He glanced up with thanks as the waiter passed you your meals, and you swore you saw his hand make a move to reach for yours across the table. But he stopped short, and instead, helped move your hot bowl of soup over to you. "You never know," he said sheepishly, "The One could be right under your nose."

— ✶

eric 🤨: dude where did u go??? cobie hyung and i looked up and u disappeared into thin air

eric 🤨: omg jisung said u went somewhere w a GIRL??? IS THIS THE GIRL U WERE GETTING ALL DRUNK AND SAD ABT 👀

sunwoo’s phone: YAH!!! OH MY GOD STFU

eric 🤨: no.

EPISODE FIVE: LOTS OF THINGS BLOOM IN SPRING

“SO her name is DJ Dove?”

Sunwoo made a face around his toothbrush as he spat the frothy white into the sink bowl. “For the millionth time, yes.” Through the mirror, Sunwoo watched Eric’s face as his roommate perched himself atop the kitchen counter and went quiet, his face pensive. After coming home to Eric’s confrontation, Sunwoo promised to explain it all in the morning to him.

It was unfortunately the morning, meaning Sunwoo had spent the past hour bringing Eric up to speed on his nonexistent love life. Fortunately, it was also a Wednesday morning, which meant you had just posted your newest episode of the podcast, and Sunwoo could force Eric to listen to it with him. A part of him was tense at the thought of no longer “gatekeeping” his little secret that he had kept for the past several months, but this was Eric, one of his best friends. Maybe this would lift a weight off of Sunwoo’s chest by finally telling someone.

“...I’m still in the thrall of dead week,” your voice blasted from the speaker of Sunwoo’s phone at high volume, “and it’s come to my attention that next quarter will probably be a lot for me. I guess this is me forewarning you all that I might be late with some episodes because I’ve got this new internship thing.”

Sunwoo dunked his face into the sink bowl as he splashed water over his lathered foam cleanser. “She’s talking about her internship at the performing arts center.”

“How do you—never mind, forget I asked.”

Sunwoo patted his face dry, then opened the medicine cabinet for all of the skincare products he used to start off the day.

“...It’s been awhile since I’ve recommended something myself, so today, do enjoy ‘gone too long’ by lullaboy with me.” The song began a few seconds after you queued it up, and the apartment was then filled with muted vocals and strings.

Sunwoo straightened. He and Eric went quiet for a while as they both let the song sink in. Sunwoo continued to slather sunscreen on his face and neck, and Eric had started up the stove to make a batch of ramen for the both of them.

A peculiar sensation draped itself over Sunwoo’s shoulders, a blanket of something that wasn’t quite calm and wasn’t quite jittery. He didn’t know how to pinpoint or label the weird tightness in his chest. The song was strangely intimate, as almost all the music Sunwoo listened to was, but when it came from another person, it was always a whole new level of intimate. Whenever someone recommended a song, it was a way to view a piece of them—perhaps not a large piece, but a piece nonetheless. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then music was the viewfinder.

Maybe he missed you. But that didn’t make sense—it… it couldn’t make sense. He saw you yesterday, and he was listening to you now. How could he miss you?

“She has good taste,” Eric murmured as the song faded out.

Sunwoo nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah. She does.”

“...Hopefully when you miss me you’ll play that song,” he heard you say in a lighthearted tone, even though he felt almost like the complete opposite. “On that note, Rhaps sent in a message asking about the dance showcase coming up! ‘Are you planning on going, and if so, any acts you’re looking forward to? Isn’t it crazy that we could be sitting next to each other and never even know?’ —”

Eric perked up, his head peering over his shoulder to look at Sunwoo as he came out of the bathroom to join Eric in the kitchen. “That’s you? Rhaps?”

“Rhapsody Anonymous,” Sunwoo corrected. “And don’t judge me!” He added with a pointed look, finger jabbing in Eric’s direction.

Eric shook his head with a giddy sort of grin. “I didn’t say anything.”

For a moment, the two boys went quiet with only your voice and the sounds of the stove keeping them company.

A thought occurred to Eric though, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Does it ever feel like lying?” He asked and gestured for Sunwoo to grab a couple of bowls from the cabinet.

Sunwoo walked over with the soup bowls, then leaned his hip against the counter next to Eric. “Does what feel like lying?”

“Hiding that you know it’s her.”

Well… Sunwoo idly scratched his jaw. “I guess I never thought about it like that,” he said. All this time, he’d figured it was probably better that he didn’t bring it up to you. After all, you used a pseudonym for a reason and didn’t show your face. Maybe this was just supposed to be your secret passion project that you used as a safe space. He didn’t want to burst your bubble by confronting you with that information. How would he even go about doing it? Oh hey, by the way, I’ve known that you’re this podcast host DJ Dove for a very long time? That probably had ‘awkward’ written all over it.

Eric passed him a pointed glance. “Something to think about then.”

— ✶

Finals week had come and gone, a hurricane of destruction in its own right. But when the storm passed, it gave way to the beautiful cherry blossoms blooming in the quad. As per university tradition, the quad was filled to the brim with students, staff, and tourists alike gathering to pose in the falling pink petals that marked the coming of Spring Break. This was no different for Sunwoo’s friend group who was dragged out to the event by none other than Choi Chanhee. In an effort to appease his friend in some aspect, Sunwoo had come dressed in something decently presentable: black cargo pants, blue denim jacket, and his face fitted in a pair of dark frames (that were definitely not just frames or missing the lenses…).

He shoved his hands into his pockets after taking a peak at the time on his watch. The group had been here for about ten minutes thus far, and half of them had already split off with their significant others to take their own rounds about the quad. They weren't the only ones—in fact, there were probably as many couples as there were people taking grad photos and cosplay photos.

And wait, someone had come in their wedding dress—nothing spelled out Sunwoo's singleness more potently than a couple getting married.

He took a panoramic glance and accidentally watched another couple go in for a kiss. He looked away with a slight frown, blowing a curl out of his eyes. "I hate this more than Valentine's Day," he grumbled.

From beside him, Kevin Moon sighed as he tested a shot with his camera and had to adjust the settings for the right exposure. "You're telling me." When he raised his camera up again, he immediately had to bring it back down with a deadpan expression, "At least on Valentine's Day, people won't photobomb you."

As the group's self-proclaimed Dad, Lee Sangyeon, summoned the attention of the boys who were present for a partial group photo. Sunwoo smiled for it, then returned to his frown. Chanhee had his camera held up as he attempted to take a selfie shot since he had been staking out this one tree trunk that a group of people had just left. Sunwoo had to admire the way Chanhee wordlessly swooped in like a vulture over a dead carcass.

"Aye, Kim Sunwoo," Chanhee exclaimed and beckoned Sunwoo over with a curl of his two fingers. Chanhee's head scanned the immediate area and his nose wrinkled when he realized he was missing someone. "Where did Changmin go? He was literally right… ah."

Chanhee's voice trailed off and a sly, little grin when he located the man in question. "Look."

Sunwoo followed Chanhee's gaze across the field to where he was sneaking up behind a familiar person. Sunwoo had met this girl twice, once when he and Changmin had gone looking for Jacob and the other when he went with Changmin to go see her for moral support. Both times, strangely, had been at the lab. Huh, did she even go home…?

But then Sunwoo observed the way Changmin and CM!Yn looked at each other. Though Sunwoo had seen Changmin's eyes light up before, this was a different sort of twinkle, something softer. There had always been a cloud hanging over Changmin when it came to this girl, always some kind of bittersweetness that held him back. It made a smile crawl onto his lips at the sight of Changmin so happy.

"Wah," Chanhee murmured in awe. "They really mended their relationship well, don't you think?"

Sunwoo pursed his lips with an indulgent nod. "Yeah, I'd think so."

His friend sighed. "Oh, well. Looks like it's just us two then."

Sunwoo stepped forward and took Chanhee's phone from him, swiftly changing it to the forward facing camera. Chanhee struck a few poses beneath the blush pink trees as he soaked in the golden hour sunlight streaking across the lawn. Eventually, Sunwoo turned the camera back around to take shots of both himself and Chanhee.

He adjusted the phone so that the selfie mode could capture both of them when he spotted Chanhee scuttling back over toward him with a pile of pink petals collected in his palms.

Sunwoo's eyes went wide and he leapt backward away from his grinning friend. "Hyung, come on, let's talk about this."

Chanhee cackled and inched forward still. His hair was the exact same color as the flowers cupped in his palms. "Sunwoo-ah," he sang, "I think your hair needs a bit of color."

"I just did my hair this morning!" He whined and pleaded desperately. The last thing he needed was to be plucking stray petals from his curls later tonight. When Chanhee still wouldn't quit, adrenaline began to pump through Sunwoo's veins in anticipation for what he needed to do next. "Chanhee hyung! We can be civil about this."

"Civility is overrated!"

Just as Chanhee pounced, Sunwoo swerved on the ball of his foot and made a mad dash toward the other side of the quad. Chanhee's giggles filled the late afternoon air like the twinkling of bells, and though it was probably an amusing sight for onlookers, Sunwoo was running for his life.

Sunwoo pumped his legs furiously as he weaved in between people standing and taking their pictures, screaming out apologies for photobombing them as he went. And when he nearly tripped over someone's dog, he managed to lock eyes with yours.

You. Oh my god, you were here.

He had little time to fully comprehend what he was about to do, but he made a beeline for you.

"Sunwoo, hey—oh!"

Sunwoo grabbed your shoulders and careened himself behind you, his face partially hidden behind yours. "I'm sorry, but—" he screeched, "—he's threatening to ruin my hair!"

Chanhee laughed as he stopped in front of you and Sunwoo. His pale cheeks were dusted with the color of the flowers in the air. "Ah, well, hello. This isn't very gentlemanly of you, Sunwoo. Who's this?" He threw Sunwoo a look over your shoulder.

Fuck. He hadn't thought this one through.

Sunwoo laughed sheepishly and let go of your shoulders to clasp the back of his neck. It was only then he realized you were wearing a delicate, pastel sundress with cherry blossoms littered in your own hair. A gentle breeze wafted by and through your skirt and brushed back a few strands of your hair too.

Pretty…

"This is," he stammered, snapping out of his daze, "Yn. Yn-ie, this is one of my close friends, Chanhee."

"It's nice to meet you," Chanhee said with a warm smile and slight bow of his head.

You gave a little wave. "Nice to meet you, too, despite the circumstances."

"I would wave back," Chanhee gestured with his hand of flowers, "but this is a nice pile, don't you think?"

To your credit, you played along. You laughed, "I totally agree. It definitely should not be wasted on giving me a wave. Though, I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities to get back at Sunwoo." You turned your head and cocked a brow at him, to which he smiled back boyishly.

Chanhee considered you again for a moment. "I like your style. I guess I'll just… leave you to it then," he drawled and sent Sunwoo very pointed glances with his eyes toward you. Something about the way Chanhee's eyes narrowed minutely made Sunwoo want to hide behind you again.

Chanhee whistled a merry tune as he went on his way, leaving you and Sunwoo to your own devices as he probably went to go find his next victim.

"I'm so sorry about that," Sunwoo lamented as soon as Chanhee was out of ear shot. "I did not mean to make you a human shield."

You chuckled. "It's okay, dude, really. Definitely didn't think I'd find anyone I knew in this mess, so it's nice seeing you out here."

Sunwoo gave you yet another once over and felt heat crawl up the column of his neck. "I—you look really pretty," he said, gesturing to your outfit.

"Oh, thank you," you chirped. "You clean up quite well yourself."

The two of you shared a smile then and for a second, Sunwoo's mouth went dry and no words leapt from his tongue. They all remained lodged in his throat where his heartbeat went pitter-patter.

He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact with you for a moment.

You made a vague nod toward one of the open benches lining the perimeter of the quad, an invitation. "Wanna come sit with me?"

"Do I?" Yes. The answer was yes.

When you and Sunwoo were seated side by side, centimeters separating your arms and legs from touching the other, his heart still had not settled. The adrenaline, in fact, also had her to dissipate. With wide eyes, he soaked everything in.

"Did you go to the winter showcase on Friday night?" He blurted, turning to you.

You met his gaze. "I did. It was such a cool experience, especially since it was my first time. Did you?"

He nodded, locking his lips. "I did, yeah," he murmured. "I had a couple friends performing, so we all went to cheer them on. It's always a really great time though; I'm glad you got to go."

"Oh, that's nice. I always find dancers so impressive," you said with a wistful gleam in your eyes. "Do you dance?"

He found himself fidgeting with Chanhee's phone that he still held onto in his lap. "A little," he admitted bashfully. "I took an intro to hip-hop class last year, and I sometimes dance with my friends. Just—not in public," he said.

For a second, something flickered across your face. But he must have been dreaming because it was gone as quickly as it came.

"So music and dance? You're a multi-talented threat, Sunwoo."

"Aw, not really," he giggled. He wanted to hide his burning face in the collar of his jacket, but there was something about you that also made him unafraid to show you this side of him. Actually, you made this side of him come out. He wasn't usually so terribly shy, always tumbling over his words and doing diction cartwheels… communications major, his ass. "What about you? You're literally a musical genius. You should be on my Spotify Wrapped, Yn."

This time, he could relish in making you flustered. "Aye, you can't say that and expect me not to wanna…" You lost your own words, biting your tongue.

He didn't know what got into him, but he leaned forward closer to you. "Expect you not to what?" He asked lowly, teasingly.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and he swore his own rapidly-beating organ was going to come flying out of his chest.

"Expect me not to—steal your glasses!" With a high-pitched squeal, you snatched the lensless frames from right off his nose.

Sunwoo gasped in scandal, diving to grab them back, but you had already stood up from the bench. "Yah! Those were expensive frames!"

Your face lit up as you donned them. "You'll have to take it off my face then!"

"Bet!" And he lurched after you as you took off into the setting sun.

Your voices echoed across the quad: "Jisuuuuuung! Jisung, save me!"

"Jisung can't save you when he's scared of me!"

EPISODE SIX: AND THE MUSES ARE OFF!

"IT'S not a date!"

"It's a date!"

"It's not a date!" Sunwoo stopped abruptly in the middle of his living room where he had been wearing a hole in the wood floors from pacing. He whirled on his sock-clad heels to face his sofa of judges, Changmin and Chanhee. Eric was out with his girlfriend watching the newest action movie that had come out over Spring Break. "She would say if it was a date, right?"

Chanhee smacked his palm against his forehead with a puff of air. Changmin, however, leaned back on the couch with a ponderous look on his face and rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "She probably would. She seems like she has more balls than you."

"Hey!"

Changmin grinned. "Just saying." He then leaned down to pick up his duffle bag sitting at his feet. "I've gotta run now, but let me know how it goes."

Sunwoo leveled a scowl at him as he passed by to go to the door. "I hope CM!Yn trips you in the practice room."

"Into her arms!" He hollered back, which was swiftly followed by the front door slamming shut.

While Changmin was headed out to meet CM!Yn at the practice room for her first time returning to dance after three years, Sunwoo and Chanhee were left to prepare Sunwoo for today's agenda. Yesterday, you and he had traded numbers, to which you had immediately asked if he'd wanted to hang out with you some more over Spring Break. The answer had been as easy as counting to three.

Now the only problem was to not freak out over it.

"You're picking up lunch, aren't you?" Chanhee asked as he shoved Sunwoo into the bathroom.

Sunwoo nodded shallowly and picked up his round brush and blow-dryer. "Mhm. I'm meeting her at the performing arts building, and we're gonna take the metro up to Lake Anchor. Ever been up there?"

Chanhee fixed the collar of Sunwoo's white button-up, then snatched the brush and blowdryer out of his hands to do it for him. "Nope. Heard it's nice up there though."

"Yeah," Sunwoo muttered, nearly dropping the serum bottle in his hands. "She said her friend Sieun recommended it."

"Ah."

It wouldn't have felt like a date as much if Sunwoo hadn't searched up Lake Anchor when you'd texted him about it last night. The place was gorgeous, a certified calendar-worthy landscape with purple mountain majesties in the back and shores lined with emerald green hills and willow trees. It didn't help that the Reddit pages all deemed it a "couple's picnic spot you can't miss." Oh, he wasn't going to miss it, all right.

Thirty minutes later, he found himself outside the doors to the performing arts center where you said you were currently taking a tech lesson from Bang Chan. He had a paper bag of snacks and sandwiches from the local convenience store in one hand and the other tucked away into his pocket.

He wondered if he could go in and see you, but he'd already texted you he was waiting outside, and you'd replied you were on your way out.

Just as he was about to go sit on one of the benches, one of the doors at the entrance opened. You emerged out into the late spring morning with the breeze in your hair, a tote bag slung over one shoulder, and a ukulele case hanging from the other. You smiled wide at him and waved.

Sunwoo's lips parted into a grin. "Hi. I got us snacks," he said and lifted the brown bag in his hand.

"Sunwoo, you didn't have to," you pursed your lips fondly, adjusting your bag straps.

"I wanted to." The two of you fell into step in the direction of the closest metro station. It would be a short walk from here into the university Avenue, and down a block to the station. Everything was conveniently placed in the name of accessibility. "Plus, I didn't really eat breakfast," he admitted.

"Me neither." You cupped half your face with your palm. "Aish. I always forget I have, like, yogurt in the fridge, y'know?"

Sunwoo chuckled. "Yeah, I get that. My roommate and I always forget that we have groceries in the fridge because we always see the ramen packets on the counter instead. How was the lesson with Chan?"

The two of you stopped at the intersection to wait for the light. You hugged your ukulele to your chest. "It was good! He's always really helpful and knowledgeable—and patient," you mused. "I hope you don't mind me bringing my uke along though. I thought it would be a nice form of entertainment once we got up to the lake."

"I'm not entertaining enough for you," he gasped melodramatically, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout.

You laughed, and the sound made him break his pout and smile. "I thought I would be the entertaining one for once. D'you know how to play?"

The crosswalk sign turned on for you, and you both made your way across.

"I know some guitar," Sunwoo answered, "but just the basics. They teach you a bit at summer music camp." As he walked by your side, he felt his hand brush against the back of yours. "My hyung—Jacob—he plays guitar pretty well. He's good at singing, too, like you."

He caught your smile from the corner of his eye.

"He did it to woo his girlfriend," he jested, sticking his tongue in his cheek when he remembered how JC!Yn brought him and Haknyeon up to speed last quarter about her love life antics.

You chuckled. "That's a shame you know the trick," you said with an impish twinkle in your eyes, "because that was exactly my plan."

Sunwoo came to a screeching halt in the middle of the walkway, and when you realized he was still staring wide-eyed at the sidewalk, you let out a laugh and went back to drag him along to the station.

— ✶

The view was something out of a magazine, the kind that took one's breath away. You and Sunwoo had claimed the shade beneath a willow tree and settled down across from each other with the brown paper bag flattened out to display the feast he had purchased. There were other small groups of people around, as well, all of whom seemed to have the same ideas as you two as they soaked up sun, read books and napped in the shade, and picnicked along the grassy shoreline. There was even a small booth a mile down the bank that rented out swan-shaped paddle boats and canoes for people to take out onto the water.

You and Sunwoo had pretty much demolished all of the goodies he brought with him. The conversation had been flowing, simple and organic, and you felt at peace—that was the best way to describe it. Maybe it was the location, the circumstance, the company, or all three.

You picked up your ukulele from where it laid in its case by your side. "Any suggestions?" You queried, taking the instrument out and checking that it was in tune.

Sunwoo brushed his hands of crumbs and braced his palms on the grass behind him. It was the visual of him in that white shirt, his sleeves rolled up and collarbone exposed, jawline clean and sharp as he gazed out at the view that made your heart race again. "Hmm," he hummed, "what did you first learn on it?"

"I think I taught myself Lemonade by Jeremy Passion," you said to him and scoured your brain for the right chords. You strummed a G-flat minor, and when it sounded about right, you shifted to B, until you managed to jog your memory of all four chords.

He watched you with softened eyes, his knees pulled up to his chest now as he leaned his cheek onto the tops of his knees. "That's a good song," he murmured.

"Do you know the lyrics?"

He chuckled, shaking his head and flicking his wrist. "Oh, no, no. I don't sing."

"Doesn't sound like you can't," you quipped back with a teasing tilt in your smile. You swayed a little as you played the tune over and over again. "A little shy, are we?"

You could see the smile peeking from his lips even when he tried to hide it in his arms. "I don't sing a lot."

"If I sang the first verse, would you join me in the chorus?" You offered as a compromise. You wouldn't push after this if he still refused, but there was a part of you that felt like you needed to hear this beautiful man sing for you.

He balked for a second, toeing at the dirt. Then, "Okay. I'll join in at the chorus."

A smile bloomed on your face. "Excellent."

You were a little shaky going in yourself. Though you had definitely practiced this song more times than you could count, performing it for someone else was always like playing it for the first time. And you wanted Sunwoo to enjoy it, and to be impressed by you. You wanted to do well for him and to be able to encourage him.

As he said he would, you heard him join in at the chorus—softly, at first, until he was the main vocal and you could bolster him with the harmony.

His eyes met yours, all smiles, as the song continued on. The ending verse… dear god, you could fall over from pure giddiness at the way he nailed the runs and you could do a little showing off with your strumming. Shivers, just plain shivers.

"She's exactly what… I need," he crooned, fingers playing absentmindedly with a strand of grass.

You let the vibrations of the strings linger in the spring air for a moment. It was like the two of you were encased in this bubble all by yourselves; and it was beautiful. It was perfect.

"I knew you could sing," you said to him. "I just had a feeling."

He hung his head, but the smile on his face could not be suppressed. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For encouraging me," he shook his head. "Believing in me."

You pursed your lips together thoughtfully and you wished you could pick his brain without risking total invasion. "Do people not believe in you often?" You asked quietly, shifting to move yourself around the pile of rolled-up trash and to sit next to him.

He followed your lead, scooting himself next to you until you were no longer opposite, but adjacent. "Not people, just me, I think."

"Ah." You could empathize.

He gave a shallow nod. "Do you ever get scared of making a mistake so you don't—I dunno—go for it? And then you end up thinking that maybe not taking that risk was the mistake?"

You set your ukulele down in the case beside you and mirrored his position, arms looped around your legs. "I do. All the time actually, and it's a scary feeling."

"Yeah," he exhaled. "Sometimes I wish I had just gone into music, full-on. I mean, a communication major is useful and all, but there are times when I wonder where I would have been if I had nurtured that passion."

His words resonated within you. There was a reason why you transferred to this university and decided to leave your original plan behind. You had gone into college with an intent to major in Computer Science, but less than a year in, it had become abundantly clear to you how unhappy you were. Leaving wasn't just a choice, it had been a need.

You turned to look at Sunwoo and you felt your chest tug toward him. You bumped his leg with your knee. "You still have time," you said. "It's not too late to still see where that goes."

But you knew the conflict that warred in his head; you knew it all too well because you had experienced it firsthand. It was much more complicated than simply chasing after one's dreams. There was obligations, expectations, fears, and physical obstacles that made the situation more complex than it seemed at first glance. You didn't know his family situation, didn't know the whole story of why he hadn't taken his summer music camp experiences and translated it into his current college career.

You didn't know it all… but you wanted to. You wanted to know everything about him.

"You said you don't have a minor figured out yet, right?" You asked suddenly, an idea coming to you.

He hummed. "Yeah."

"Well, why don't you choose music as your minor?" When he didn't answer right away, you added, "You obviously don't have to decide right this second—it's just something to think about."

(It seemed he had a lot he needed to think about lately.)

Sunwoo rose up and leaned back onto his palms again. When he turned to look at you, a sense of calm had come over him this time. "I really appreciate you."

You broke into a smile. "I appreciate you, too."

"No, really," he laughed, then bit his lip. "I'm sorry for screwing the mood—"

"You're not! Really," you insisted. "I don't mind. I like having meaningful conversations with people who mean a lot to me."

He didn't even have to say anything, because there was this look, one you simply could not ignore. It made your stomach feel like it was swarmed with butterflies and that you were walking on air. It was like watching him smile while listening to the song you wrote, like walking out of the performing arts center to see him waiting for you. He didn't have to say anything because you knew—you had to. There simply could not be any other explanation, right?

EPISODE SEVEN: WHAT IF SOULS FEEL FAMILIAR FOR A REASON?

YOU had been keeping a secret.

"So what you're saying is that you know that he knows, but he doesn't know that you know that he knows?"

You nodded, arms crossed. "Yeah, pretty much."

Jisung made a face and rested his temple against his palm. "My brain hurts."

From where she was perched on a stool, Park Sieun reached over and patted Jisung's nest of hair. "It is a little confusing. Why don't you just confront him about it?"

"I don't know," you huffed and fell back against the wall. The three of you were holed up in one of the private studios on campus. There weren't many buildings opened since it was still Spring Break, but many of the performing arts facilities were. Jisung had offered for you and Sieun to meet him in the room he had snagged and had been currently occupying in order to bust out as much creative energy as possible. (Newsflash, it was not going well, hence, yours and Sieun's invitations.) Studio rooms were pretty much soundproof, so they were good for those in the music programs who wanted a private space to practice or record things.

You had just brought them up to speed on your latest outing with a certain Kim Sunwoo up to Lake Anchor, as Sieun had so graciously suggested to you the other day. After your outing, however, you'd come to one very solid conclusion.

Well, and there was the matter of The Anonymous Situation.

Just this morning, you had opened your inbox to find another submission from one of your regular anonymous listeners whom you affectionately nicknamed Rhaps. Rhapsody Anonymous had begun to pop up in your inbox just last quarter, and it wasn't until recently that you figured out who it was. At first, it seemed completely implausible for Sunwoo to be the face behind the name, because there was no way out of a whole internet of people that he had managed to stumble across your podcast.

To make matters more complex, you had an inkling that he also knew that you were the host of Songbird Station. He had sent you something along the lines of: "Hey Dovey! I stumbled across this song recently that I haven't heard in awhile. It's called Lemonade, and I realize that I've only actually heard the ukulele vers. LOL anyways, I hope you're not too busy this Spring Break and that you've had time to relax. I've always wondered though… have you ever met someone who feels familiar to you? Not like in a 'I've reunited with you after five years' kind of familiar, but like… something more like kindred spirits……"

The whole message had the same amount of sweetness he always used to contact and interact with you, but the recommendation of the song Lemonade simply could not be a mere coincidence. You just couldn't accept that.

You had pondered this for a long time—the possibility of confronting him about his anonymous persona. And of course, there were several things that held you back from doing so. "I mean," you began, pushing off from the wall to slowly pace the little room available, "I don't want to scare him, y'know? Like I'm sure there's a reason why he goes by a pseudonym like I do, and I don't want to burst that bubble.

"Plus," you continued, "what if I'm just thinking about this all wrong? What if I've read the signs completely out of proportion and he's not actually Rhapsody Anonymous? That would just be embarrassing."

You stopped in front of your friends with your hands positioned on your hips and your head quirked to the side in thought.

"Would it really be so bad if you brought it up, like, even subtly?" Sieun asked you, her pink-tinted lips pursed slightly.

Jisung piped up, too, "Yeah, Sunwoo's a pretty cool guy. And based on what I've seen between the two of you and what you've told us, I don't think he would laugh at you or anything."

"I don't think he would laugh at me either," you confessed. "It's just kinda scary."

The two murmured their agreement. Though Sieun was your trio's only extrovert, you actually had no idea how you'd come to be decently close friends with these two. You chalked it up to all frequenting similar social circles. The music program was always a good way to make friends, and you were glad that it had yet to fail you, even in college.

Sieun made a vague gesture with her hand. "I think you should try, though. I'm sure you'll find a way to slide it in," she chuckled.

Jisung snorted. "I have never seen that man so flustered in his life."

"Yeah, he has to be whipped for you, Yn-ie."

A cough from the boy in the room. "Not like you're any more whipped than he is."

"Han Jisung!" You reprimanded, heat swarming to your cheeks.

He broke into a boyish grin, eyes wide and alight like a chipmunk. "What? Don't give me the government name; you know it's true!"

Even Sieun was laughing behind her oh-so delicately placed hand. "He's got a point."

You sighed, wrinkling your nose. "I came for support, not a call out."

"Are those not the same things—AH, I'M SORRY DON'T WHACK ME—!"

— ✶

There was a place on the Avenue with the best lime soda, as Sunwoo had claimed, when the two of you coordinated to get lunch together. Because you had chosen the place of your last hangout, you'd insisted that he chose a place this time. By his texts, he had seemed pleasantly surprised to be hanging out again so soon, and while your nerves were high in anticipation for the coming conversation, you also couldn't wait to spend time with him some more.

You met outside the storefront of a Vietnamese restaurant that you'd only seen in passing, and had yet to try. You glanced up from your phone just as Sunwoo came up from down the road toward you, dressed in jeans and a bomber jacket.

"Hey, sorry to keep you waiting," he said as he swung the door open for you.

You and he ducked inside. "It's no worries," you assured him. "Hope you're not sick of me just yet."

You saw that boyish grin of his as he caught your eyes and signaled the waiter for a table for two. "Never."

When the two of you were seated, your eyes greedily took in the options laid out on the menu. There were just far too many appetizing items—maybe you should have scouted out the menu beforehand.

"Any favorites?" You queried from over the rim of your menu.

Sunwoo was slinging his shoulder bag over his head as you asked this. "Oh, uh, I've been hooked on their shrimp banh xeo ever since my friend Haknyeon introduced me to it. It's like a Vietnamese crepe with stir fried vegetables and a protein. But I think in general, everything is pretty good here."

You hummed. "Mmh, sounds good. And you said the lime soda is really good, too?"

He nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, for sure. That stuff is addicting."

You took his word for it, and soon, the two of you had finished ordering your lunch for the day. A part of you wished you didn't have to disturb the pleasantness of this one-on-one lunch date (was this a date?) with Sunwoo by bringing up the podcast, but what if by clearing the air, it would make your relationship stronger? (Or, it could end in a fiery, hot pile of shit!)

Either way, you would try to get to it as organically as possible.

"So I wanted to talk to you about something." Yes, because this is totally organic, Yn… You grabbed your cup of lime soda and played absentmindedly with the straw.

You gauged his reaction carefully. He perked up. "You—you wanted to talk to me about something?" He parroted, pointing his finger back at himself. "That's not usually good."

"Sorry, no, it's not bad!" You promised. On the way here, you had come up with about a dozen ways to go about this, but at the end of the day, there would only be a yes or no answer. "Do you, by chance, happen to listen to podcasts?"

There was that flicker of recognition over his face, and for a second, he reminded you of something like a puppy with how wide his eyes were. "Uhh," he drawled, scratching his head and feigning nonchalance, "I mean, sometimes. Like casually."

"This might sound weird—"

"Uh-huh."

"—but are you Rhapsody Anonymous?"

If sweat could be animated, that was what you imagined to be dripping down the side of Sunwoo’s face at this moment. He seemed to be figuring out a way to reply. “Would you believe me if I asked you what a Rhapsody Anonymous is?”

“No, not really.”

“What’s a podcast?”

You huffed. “Sunwoo—”

“Okay,” he relented, slumping over slightly. He seemed nervous, in a way, eyes looking anywhere but you, twirling his straw between his thumb and index finger, his foot tapping furiously against the linoleum floor. “I’m sorry! I didn’t really want to bring up the podcast to you because I thought that you enjoyed the anonymity, y’know?” He told you with an apologetic wince. “And I really liked listening to the show, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to interact with you anonymously, as well, and over time, I thought we’d kinda become friends.”

He peered up at you nervously, and guilt wormed its way into the trenches of your gut. From what it seemed, he must have really thought that you would react negatively to him knowing your podcast-hosting side show.

“We are friends,” you finally said and scooped a lock of hair out of your face. “I’m not like, mad, or anything; it was more of me trying to figure out why you felt so familiar to me. And I’m really honored that you liked my podcast enough to want to interact with me there. It means a lot.”

With your small smile, Sunwoo’s posture flooded with relief. “So you’re not mad that I figured out your identity?”

“Definitely not,” you shook your head. “If anything, I’m relieved. I’ve been wondering about your identity for a while now.”

The corners of Sunwoo’s mouth lifted. “That’s… that’s cool. This is really cool,” he said. He let out a sigh, leaning back to slump in his chair with a dramatic expression of anguish on his face. “You have no idea how much it’s been eating me up inside, Dovey! Like how do you balance your two identities? It takes so much energy for me to make sure I keep them separate.”

“I can tell; you weren’t exactly the most inconspicuous,” you teased.

He sat up. “What do you—”

“Well, you kind of told me things in person that you’ve told to me on anonymous, and vice versa.” You recalled to him the two main instances that gave him away to you. It was amusing to see the way he grew increasingly more flustered as you kept talking about it, but you realized that this was probably incredibly painful for him to hear.

Sunwoo had his head in his hands by the time you were done. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

He shifted slightly so that his cheek rested against one palm. “And to think that I was being all slick and secretive,” he pouted, scrunching up his nose. “You know, I always thought about being friends with you in real life. That one time that I told you about that one Taylor Swift song that reminded me of you?”

“Superstar?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” He meditated on that thought while sipping his drink. “It just felt right. Like you were far away but also right there in my ear. Does that make sense?”

You knew what the song was about; you could recite the lyrics by heart, and the fact that he associated that song with you… It sent your heart a-flutter. “It does.”

He jolted up so suddenly you nearly fell out of your seat with him. “Not that I’m desperately in love with you or anything,” he added quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth as fast as he mentally skimmed through the lyrics again and again. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and you were sure that your neck looked as hot as it felt.

You pretended your heart didn’t drop to the pit of your stomach when he said that. You laughed along with him, though you weren’t sure why it sounded like it did. “Oh, right, right. I didn’t think that; don’t worry.” All the butterflies in your stomach drooped.

Sunwoo scrambled to find the right words. “I just mean that I always felt like some average Joe, and you were…” He gestured to you helplessly, “you.”

Your heart couldn’t help but give a sharp pang at that.

“And how could I ever be anything more to you than just another listener in your stats, y’know?”

You never thought that you would have ever given off that kind of vibe toward listeners, or come to mean that much to any members of your audience. It had seemed simply impossible for you to ever become large enough to evoke that kind of feeling in people—a popstar to their fans. You folded your arms over the table and leaned toward him. “Sunwoo, you were never just another listener. You made yourself known to me and you made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

He slowly met your eyes, and you sat up straighter, reaching toward the paper straw wrapper to fidget with. “I originally started this podcast because I needed a place to talk. After feeling like people were always moving on without me, I was trying to search for validation, and I found that in podcasting. I figured that maybe… if I was feeling these things, then there had to be someone out there who was feeling them, too.

“And the song recommendation and music talk was always a nice bonus,” you added. “I had people send in anonymous submissions, but never as frequently as you did, and it made me feel like I was reaching somebody. Not just a random hit every so often, but somebody.”

Sunwoo’s eyes shone in the artificial lighting inside the restaurant, and outside your little bubble, you barely registered the noises around you. It was just you and Sunwoo in this moment in time and space. He swallowed. “You’re really cool, you know that?”

You grabbed your cup of lime soda and softly knocked it against his. “That’s all you, superstar.”

— ✶

Lunch had progressed much smoother after you had confronted Sunwoo, to say the least. You were convinced, however, that you had to meet this Haknyeon character he kept telling you about. He was the one to recommend the Vietnamese restaurant, and he was going to be your new favorite person. (Sorry, Sunwoo.)

When both you and Sunwoo had finished up with lunch, you didn’t want to cut your time with him short and asked him if he’d ever been up to the Farmer’s Market north of the Ave.

“There’s a Farmer’s Market over there?” His mouth gaped as he let you lead him a couple blocks north.

You grinned, tipping your head up to the sky to soak in the last bits of sunlight before it was about to be blanketed over by gray clouds. “Yeah! It’s really neat. They’ve got one going every week, I think.”

The walk up was an easy one as it was a straight shot from the restaurant to the intersection where white picket fences were set up to barricade the street for vendors to set up in. Pop-up tents of different colors and sizes lined either side of the street as people milled about going from vendor to vendor. This had been one of the few gems you’d found when you transferred here, and though you didn’t often visit, you tried to buy at least a couple things to support the local businesses. The fruit here tasted much better than the ones in-stores, anyway.

You and Sunwoo slipped past the fences and into the throng of people, and you watched his face light up in awe as he took in the sights and smells. There were people selling beaded bracelets and art, farmers tossing blueberries into kids’ mouths… it was a lively slice of community here.

“Wow, this is incredible,” he said, but suddenly stopped short. “Oh my god, they’re selling melon pops, Yn-ie!” He pointed out a stand a little further down the way that he had peered over a few heads for. He grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him. “Come on! I’ll treat you to one.”

It wasn’t like you were going to refuse him.

Within another few minutes, you and Sunwoo had both acquired one melon popsicle each. It was adorable to see him bouncing along on the balls of his feet like a kid on Christmas morning as he lapped up the light green juice dripping down the side of the frozen treat.

“—look how pretty those sunflowers are!” He gasped at one of the stands to your left selling bundles of different flowers.

An idea popped into your head, and you scurried over to the booth and traded a two dollar bill for one of the baby sunflowers. You whirled around to where Sunwoo stood and waited for you. “Stand still,” you said while reaching up to tuck the flower behind his ear.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, you pulled out your phone and snapped a quick picture of him.

Sunwoo’s eyes had gone wide, his cheekbones the same color as the roses in the bundles behind you. “What… just happened,” he asked, blinking, then came over to poke your shoulder to get your attention. He peered over at your phone screen to see that you were setting the photo you took as his new contact photo. He let out a hum, “Wow.”

“It’s cute.” You let him see the picture.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen before finally giving it a nod of approval. “Okay, good enough.”

You scoffed, lightly hitting his arm with the back of your hand. “Good enough? I think it’s perfect.” You finished off the rest of your melon pop and tossed the stick in a nearby trash bin.

(If you’d looked up from your phone at that moment, you would have seen the utter bliss on Sunwoo’s face after hearing you compliment a picture of him and calling it “perfect.” To him, absolutely nothing could ruin this day, this moment, this year for him—!)

One raindrop fell onto your phone screen, followed by another, and another, and ano--

(He should not have spoken so soon.)

“It’s raining,” you observed dumbly, reaching a palm out to feel the pitter-patter of the sky’s tears on your skin. Others around you were beginning to notice, too, either huddling under their nearest tent or the overhangs of establishments lined on the sidewalk.

You figured somebody must have pissed the weather off because the rain only began to drum harder against the world.

"Well, shit," you laughed and patted Sunwoo on the back of his shoulder to move him toward the side of the road. "Let's find shelter!"

The two of you joined the crowd as you scrambled past the tents and up onto the sidewalks. Some people simply went into the shops themselves, but you and Sunwoo took a moment to stare out at the once-clear sky. Strange how springtime weather worked.

Sunwoo finished off his popsicle and found a trash bin to toss the stick into. He ran a hand through his dampened locks, then dragged that same palm down his face. "D'you like a little rain, dove?"

The nickname caught you off-guard for a second, but not as badly as seeing the soft-cornered smile on his face.

You cleared your throat. "I don't mind it. How about you?"

He made a frown at the sky as if he could reprimand nature for crashing the date—wait, this wasn't a date, was it? "It would have been nice if the weather report was accurate for once, but a little walk in the rain never hurt anybody."

You voiced your agreement. The next course of action you both decided on was making the long trek home in the rain together. You tried to stay out of the shower as best as you could, but there definitely weren't enough overhangs to get you home completely dry.

At one of the intersections, Sunwoo looked over at you through his dripping wet bangs. "You don't have a jacket."

On instinct, you glanced down at your bare arms, only clad in a T-shirt. "Oh, I guess I don't," you mused.

"Here—" he shouldered off the black bomber jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

"Sunwoo, I can't—"

"Yes, you can," he laughed and shook his head out. The light turned green to cross, and he wrapped an arm around you to keep you steady along the rain-slicked street.

The jacket and arm around you were both warm, but you had a feeling that even without the jacket, his arm would have been more than enough.

When you'd made it to your apartment complex and bursted into the front lobby, you and Sunwoo practically stood in your own self-made puddles. You took the jacket off from around your shoulders and shook it out; it was a shoddy attempt to get the water out, but at least the material was semi-waterproof on the outside.

"Here you…" Your throat went dry as you made to hand his jacket back to him and zeroed in on the way his wet, white T-shirt stuck flush against his skin. There was no other way to describe it but as see through, and there was no way in hell you were going to be able to erase that defined stomach from your mind. "...Go."

You coughed as you looked away, and he accepted his jacket back with a low "Thanks."

When he zipped his jacket up, you nodded toward the elevator. "Do you wanna come up and dry off before you go out? You can totally borrow my umbrella if you want, too."

He shook his head. "No, it's okay. My apartment's not far, I swear."

"Ah, alright. Get home safe then." You paused, then added, "Text me once you get back?"

Sunwoo flashed you a smile, and man, if you could engrave that smile, the wet hair, into your brain… "Promise. I'll see you soon, superstar."

He reached over and ruffled your hair, then ducked out of your apartment into the rain. Just before he was out of your sight, he turned back and waved at you through the front windows.

You let out an exhale once he had disappeared. A fuzzy feeling lingered in your chest, your smile never leaving your face. You were so far gone.

EPISODE EIGHT: SWERVE LIKE A CHICKEN

ALTHOUGH Spring Break had swept through the university faster than it came, Sunwoo could still say he felt like he was riding on Cloud 9. The beginning of the quarter was easily a more relaxed part of the term, but Spring quarter itself was a whole other nightmare in itself. Everyone around him was beginning to wake up from their break-dazed slumbers to clamber their asses back into uncomfortable lecture chairs and study rooms.

It was the first Tuesday back from Spring Break when he found out you were going to be in a practice room alone for a while, working on a new project. This intel had been courtesy of one Han Jisung, who had been texting Sunwoo off and on about a track he had been mixing with Chan.

han !!: yeah just left cuz my brain was feelin super fried 🤣 dunno how ynies still there

sunwoo's phone: oh fr?? she's still over there?

han !!: yuh bro that's what i just said

han !!: r u gonna do anything abt it 👀😳

sunwoo's phone: i have no clue what ur talking abt

han !!: okay bye chicken

sunwoo's phone: u did not just call me chicken.

han !!: 🐓🐓🐓

Sunwoo walked out of his room and stood in the middle of the apartment, staring blankly at the back of Eric's head. His roommate was seated on the couch setting up a movie, and when he sensed someone was staring at him, he began to say, "Baby!—wait a minute."

Eric made a face. "Never mind, it's just you."

Sunwoo scoffed and flopped onto the opposite end of the couch. "Rude! Before EC!Yn, I used to be your one and only."

"That's actually so incorrect—"

"Do you boys ever not cat-fight?" EC!Yn mused as she came out from the bathroom and found a seat between Eric and Sunwoo. Eric instantly curled an arm around her and pulled her into his side.

Sunwoo considered this with a frown. Why was he so single? "You're lucky I tolerate your boyfriend, EC!Yn," said Sunwoo as he folded his arms over his chest and sunk into the shadows of his hoodie.

"I'm glad you've come to like me more than your own best friend," she drawled in jest. "What's got you in the dumps, my friend?"

Eric perked up, pressing the play button on the TV remote to start the movie. "Oh yeah! You were in such a good mood this morning."

A grumble from the lump of hoodie. "It's nothing."

A moment of silence passed. Then, "He misses Yn."

"I think so, too."

"Do you think if we texted her to text him, he would at least smile?"

"Oh, I think I found her Instagram the other day—"

Sunwoo peered out of his hoodie with narrowed eyes. "I can hear you guys, you know that, right?"

Both Eric and his partner shot him impish grins, delighted that their very obvious conversation brought him out of silence. The thought forced a smile onto Sunwoo's face anyway. Eric's baseball game had been canceled today because the team who they were going up against this week had internal problems (something about an affair between coaches and players—it was complicated). Thus, Eric had decided to fill his afternoon with an impromptu movie session with his girlfriend. Sunwoo was invited by roommate obligation.

There were definitely more productive things that Sunwoo could have been doing (finding a minor, finding a job, finding the answers to his cognitive psych homework, etcetera), but watching… Wait, what were they even watching?

EC!Yn reached over and nudged his shoulder with her knuckles. "Hey, Earth to Kim Sunwoo."

He shook out of his daze. "Huh? Oh, sorry." He sighed, pulling out his phone. "Jisung just told me that Yn's at the practice room working still."

"Still?"

"Yeah," he bobbed his head. "They've been there ever since they finished their composition class this morning."

Eric lowered the volume on the TV. "Dude, you should go keep her company."

Sunwoo's eyes shot open as he began mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. "I don’t wanna bother her; she probably doesn’t wanna be bothered if she’s been working for so long.” The thought had crossed his mind to head over to the practice rooms right now and sit in for a session, but he had shut his own idea down almost immediately. Would you appreciate him going to bug you or would you mind him just going to sit with you and enjoy your presence?

“I was thinking the exact opposite,” said EC!Yn, “I mean, whenever Eric comes over unannounced to come sit with me at the dorm, I appreciate it all the time.”

Eric cooed. “Aw, you do?”

Sunwoo blinked and was suddenly glad he was staring down at his phone and not the couple on the couch next to him. But he glanced up to catch EC!Yn’s eyes. “Do you really think she wouldn’t mind?”

When Eric tucked his face into her neck, she idly scratched his head. “Oh, definitely. I think it’ll be a nice surprise, considering she probably feels the same about you, based on what you’ve already told us.”

“You’re right!” Sunwoo shot up off the couch, but halted. “Wait, she what?”

Eric snorted. “She said that Yn probably feels the same about you, which, if I’m being honest, I can’t believe—”

Sunwoo dashed into his room to grab his wallet and keys. “Nobody asked you!”

— ✶

Coffee. You liked coffee, right?

Sunwoo couldn't quite think straight with the giddy anticipation bubbling in his stomach and up his chest as he balanced twin cups of iced americano in his hands. Taking the bus to the School of Music would have been less effort on his legs, but waiting for it simply did not sit with the amount of energy currently carrying him down the street and up the stairs and across the quad like a madman.

People were probably eyeing him weirdly, but he was trying to come up with things to say to you. Preferably, these things were smooth and not strange fragments that weren't properly strung together. He wanted to look put together, to sound put together.

He was probably going to look frazzled, though, from half-running a mile uphill, but that was okay—he was excited to see you.

The School of Music stood right across from the School of Art building, the twin towers looming above the quad stairs. With school back in session, there were plenty of people milling about the entrance, and somebody graciously opened the door for Sunwoo so he didn't have to awkwardly balance his coffees and risk spilling them to get inside. He hadn't often visited this building, but he had been in here before to visit friends and upperclassmen. Though the architecture was grander, it still had the homey feeling of a high school band room, some place music students could call home.

Sunwoo navigated himself toward the practice rooms in the back hallways, murmuring "excuse me"s and apologies as he sidestepped string bassists and bassoons and snare drums. (He could've sworn there was a whole drum kit in one of these; it was strange seeing someone carrying around a single snare… huh.)

He reached the corridor to turn right into the practice hall when he froze, diving back behind the wall.

"—wait, Yangyang—"

Something in him sunk deep into the pit of his stomach, an anchor to the sea floor. He watched you launch out of your practice room and into Yangyang's arms, both of you hugging each other closely. He had his arms wrapped around you and his cheek against the crown of your head.

Sunwoo couldn't hear what you were saying to each other—if you were saying anything at all.

And you didn't let go. Not yet, at least.

When you did finally let go, the two of you were beaming at each other. It was near impossible to make out what kind of emotion was there from so far away, but Sunwoo couldn't look anymore when Yangyang leaned in towards you—

Sunwoo pressed himself against the wall he was peering around.

Oh.

He struggled to swallow; there was a large lump sitting in his throat that he had to wrestle down.

Disappointment—yeah, that was disappointment.

Before you or Yangyang could come down this way, Sunwoo retraced his steps from where he came until he was back outside. He sucked in a breath, mind abuzz.

He set down the cups of iced coffee, now perspiring, on a ledge nearby, so he could pull out his phone.

It rang twice. "Yo."

"Are you practicing right now?" Sunwoo asked, leaning his body against the railing. His free hand held his face as his brain replayed the events he had just witnessed. Did that mean what he thought he meant? You were totally allowed to see other people—the two of you weren't exclusive—but goddamn, did that hurt to think about.

Was he too late? Had he chickened out so long that you decided to move on, or was he never in the running in the first place?

He heard a bit of shuffling from the other side, then a sigh from Changmin. "Now I'm not. What's up?"

"I'm coming over."

A pause. "...Okay, see you soon."

EPISODE NINE: [YELLS.]

THERE was something different in the air and you could taste it. Not literally, of course, but you figured your paranoia had manifested strong enough within you to be able to sniff these kinds of things out. "These things" referred to the slight difference in the way you interacted with Sunwoo, or rather, how Sunwoo interacted with you.

You turned your phone off again, having checked it for what felt like the fifth time in the past two minutes. Usually, he replied relatively fast, but for the past week or so, he'd been a little more delayed. He didn't text dry, which was a relief, but there was something off about it. You couldn't articulate it too well—it was just a gut feeling.

"Oy, phone away, Yn," Sieun ordered, snapping her fingers and holding her hand out across the table.

You sent her a look, but reluctantly handed your phone over to her. "But—"

"No buts!" She tutted. She hid your phone within the confines of her purse before promptly returning to the warm bowl of biang biang noodles in front of her. "The more you check your phone, the sadder of a sap you look."

"Thanks," you deadpanned, but followed her lead and picked up your chopsticks to eat your food.

The two of you were seated in, arguably, the best Chinese restaurant on the Avenue. It had become a fast favorite of yours when you first transferred, saved for the long days and weeks when you needed something like spice to make you feel anything other than sad. Sieun had suggested coming down here for dinner rather than staying in and eating another round of instant ramen. It was something she knew would cheer you up easily, and so far, it was only half working.

You reached for your water, only to realize it was practically empty.

As if she could read your mind, the waitress taking care of your table appeared at your side and filled your water up for you.

"Oh, thank you!" Your eyes glanced over at her name tag—HN!Yn—and met her kind eyes.

"Of course. Anything else I can get you two?" She asked cheerily, swiftly filling up Sieun's cup, as well, with practiced grace. "Food's good?"

Both you and Sieun nodded your heads vigorously, especially since both of your mouths were now full and you couldn't speak. She seemed to get the idea and hustled over to a nearby table to tend to them. How waiters and waitresses always knew when you had food in your mouth, you could never figure out. It was always absolutely awful timing, but you supposed the skill was akin to Starbucks workers butchering name spellings.

When you finally swallowed your bite, you chased it with a gulp of water. "I don't think I did anything wrong," you said to your friend, pushing around the saucy rice in your bowl with the tips of your chopsticks.

Sieun covered her mouth. "I don't think so either," she replied, eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe he's just busy? It could be that he got a job or something, or school work is piling up."

You frowned. You thought he would have let you know he was going to be a bit busier, but at the same time, he didn't owe you anything. You just worried about him and hoped he wasn't overworking himself. It didn't help that you missed hanging out with him; it didn't feel like it used to between you just last week.

From behind you, you heard the door to the restaurant open and close with a loud smack! The door to the restaurant was awfully loud when it closed, unless it was carefully done. Something about the angle at which it was constructed, or something like that.

Sieun's brows flew up. "Speak of the devil," she muttered with her food pushed into her cheek.

"Hm?" You hummed and twisted around in your seat to see who she was referring to.

Oh. Well, she definitely wasn't wrong, per se.

Coming in through the door himself was Kim Sunwoo, as well as a few of his own friends, you guessed. You recognized one of them as Ji Changmin, one of the dancers from the winter showcase. Besides those two, there were four others, too—three other boys and a girl. You didn't recognize any of them, but you saw the way your waitress greeted them and squeezed one of the boys' hands.

You and Sunwoo made eye contact, and you shot him a small smile, lifting your fingers in a wave.

He seemed surprised to see you, and you didn't fault him for that. His wave was slight and smile shy, but you couldn't figure out why he ducked his head and didn't come by and say hi.

They're being seated for dinner, Yn. It's okay. Chill a little.

You turned back in your seat to face Sieun and your food again.

"Hey, cheer up, girl." Sieun's smile was sympathetic as she caught your attention. You hadn't even noticed how your posture noticeably slumped after that interaction—if one could even call it that. "Don't let this ruin your dinner, okay?"

You sighed out of your nose, testing your chopsticks over the rim of your bowl. "You're right. I don't know, Eun. It feels like we regressed? Is he avoiding me? Am I overthinking this?"

"I'm not sure, hon," she told you. "It'll be okay, though. I promise. Are you ready for the check?"

You nodded, reaching for your napkin to wipe your mouth.

Sieun lifted her hand and caught your waitress's attention, then made a motion for the bill. HN!Yn was quick to bring it over and set the little black tray with the receipt onto the edge of your table. In her hands she held a small device to input your method of payment.

"Are we splitting the bill today, ladies?" She asked you, eyes flickering between you both.

"Yeah, evenly split would be great, please," you told her.

Sieun leaned over to peer at the receipt as you reached into your bag to grab your card. Her face contorted into confusion, and she ran her finger over a line as if reading over it again carefully. "Oh, uhm, excuse me. It says we get a discount—not that I'm complaining! But…"

HN!Yn smiled. "Ah, you're friends with Sunwoo, right? That's what he told me, at least. I always give my partner and his friends my Friends & Family discount, so don't worry about it. I appreciate your integrity though."

You and Sieun exchanged wide-eyed glances, blinking, then turned to peer over at where Sunwoo's friend group sat. One of the boys sitting next to him whacked his arm to get his attention, nodding toward your table.

Sunwoo looked up.

Your head tilted to the side and you mouthed a "thank you?" to him, unsure of why he went out of his way to help you out.

He only nodded before ducking his head again. Huh. You'd have to thank him properly later.

HN!Yn was quick to help you and Sieun box your meals and finish paying. Before long, you tucked your arm around Sieun's to push out into the cool evening—not without glancing back at Sunwoo's table first.

— ✶

"She looks sad. Why is she sad?" Sunwoo sulked, lying atop his folded arms on the table and staring at you through the space between Haknyeon and JC!Yn.

You were the last person he thought he'd see when he and his friends walked into Haknyeon's favorite Chinese restaurant. You and your friend were pretty much wrapping up dinner when they'd come in, and he was quite literally startled by your presence. He'd been walking around on eggshells, he felt, all because of this stupid situation he'd forced himself into.

It was stupid. Yeah… it was stupid.

Changmin delivered a light whack to the back of Sunwoo's head. "You're dumb."

Sunwoo sat up and cupped the back of his head, leveling a glare at his friend. "Hello?"

"He's not exactly wrong," said Chanhee from the other side of him as he texted someone on his phone.

Sunwoo pressed his lips together and looked across the table from him at JC!Yn in a silent cry for help. The woman could only lift her shoulders half-heartedly. That meant that she agreed with them… great.

Eric snapped his wooden chopsticks apart and began using either stick to smooth the other for splinters. "We're saying you're dumb because you're doing this to yourself and to her unnecessarily."

Sunwoo huffed. "That's because you guys weren't there to see it happen! They're totally together—or at least, close." It still felt awful to think about. It felt like there was a hole in his chest left empty after considering the possibility that he was too late. He didn't want to get hurt.

"You can still talk to her like you used to, Sunwoo-ah," Haknyeon chimed in. "Even if they were—and I'm not saying they are—together, there's still a healthy amount of space where you can dwell as her friend."

HN!Yn appeared at the head of the table with a tray of water, and everyone pitched in to pass the cups down. "Thanks, guys," she said, tucking the tray under her arm. "Are you guys ready to order?" The question was directed towards the rest of the table, but Sunwoo saw the way her eyes lingered on Haknyeon and how Haknyeon's smile shifted to something that Sunwoo was sure was only for her.

It made him feel strange again.

The group, as usual, trusted Haknyeon's choices in dishes and let him take the reins in deciding what they ate tonight. Once HN!Yn had headed off into the kitchen to deliver their order, conversation resumed swiftly.

"I think you're just scared, Sunwoo," JC!Yn said to him over the rim of her glass of water.

Murmurs of agreement resounded from all around the table. Sunwoo's jaw fell open. "I—I am not scared. What would I be scared of?"

"The truth! Oooh," Eric pursed his lips and wiggled his fingers in Sunwoo's direction.

Sunwoo promptly smacked Eric's hand away.

"If you weren't scared of the truth," said Haknyeon, as he propped his elbows onto the table, "you would have gone up to her in that hallway."

"Didn't she tell you that she didn't see Yangyang that way anyways?" Chanhee chimed in. He was still going at it texting whoever it was on his phone.

"But she also said she wanted to give it a second chance," Sunwoo corrected.

Changmin scratched behind his ear and grabbed sauce trays from the end of the table to pass down to everyone else. "That was before she started hanging out with you some more. What is your point?"

They all made excellent points, he thought. That afternoon he'd seen you and Yangyang, he'd gone to meet Changmin in one of the dance practice rooms. After that, he'd gone home to yell into his pillow until his throat burned. Eric had muttered something about Sunwoo being dramatic and summoned JC!Yn over to the apartment to deal with him.

Sunwoo had just been bummed. He didn't even know if bummed was a strong enough word.

"I'm just scared of getting hurt, I guess," he finally admitted, meekly.

The table quieted to allow him room to speak his mind, and even Chanhee put his phone away to give him his full attention now. It wasn't often Sunwoo wore his heart on his sleeve like this, and it wasn't easy either. For anyone. Admitting to his fears in the middle of a Chinese restaurant while five of one's friends listened in was intimidating, but it was comforting to know that these friends he kept would find a way to support him. Even if he was being stupid, their tough love was out of desire to look out for him.

When he was done, Changmin clasped a warm hand on his shoulder and his dimple pressed into his cheek. "Sunwoo-yah, I think that you second guess yourself too much and you know that. You're self aware enough to know that you make the mistake of not going for what or who you want."

Sunwoo stared at an impurity in the table. What Changmin was saying hit the nail on the head—it was what happened with the dance showcase, too, and now he was about to let it ruin a friendship he had with a person he cared very much about.

"My advice," Changmin continued, "is to talk to her about what you saw and clarify it. I know it's… I know it's scary thinking you're gonna get hurt again, but I think you'll feel a lot better afterward."

EPISODE TEN: SUPERSTAR, I'M NOT TOO FAR

your phone: hey thanks for the fnf discount last night! sorry i didn't thank u properly before, but yeah, really appreciate it :')

sunshine (sunwoo): it was no problem, dw abt it!

your phone: btw is everything okay? u seem a bit distant lately and i wanted to make sure u were doing alright

sunshine (sunwoo): ah yeah, im sorry :( there's just been some things on my mind

You shot Sunwoo a quick text back to let him know you were here if he wanted anyone to talk to. His text had just come in after you'd sent him a reply in the early evening.

"Yn-ah. Still on your phone, I see?"

You jolted and shoved your device into the pocket of your jeans, smiling sheepishly as Lee Jihoon power-walked into the backstage area with a pen behind his ear and a clipboard in hand. "Hi, Jihoon!" You squeaked.

He lifted his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to come follow him. Since everyone was back from Spring Break, the work for the play being performed was kicked into high gear. Jihoon was a graduate student at the university and a director of the stage here; adding the fact that he majored in the same thing you did also made him one of your favorite mentors ever. The back hallways were bustling with costumes, props and other assorted technicians while most of the actors were either in the main backstage area or onstage proper with the play director, HJ!Yn.

You followed swiftly after him and weaved through the people littered about the corridors. "I finished synching the panel back here with the projector in the box," you told him, "though, it's weird that it was ever undone in the first place." You frowned. There had been a lot of strange things happening in the theater lately.

Jihoon gave you a curt nod and set you up in front of one of the house lights panels located in the hallway leading right out to the audience. He pointed at it with the back of his pen. "Yeah, some funky shit's been happening around here," he sighed. "You were here the other night when the speakers were acting weird, right?"

You nodded and let him guide you through navigating this backup panel. "I was. You and Chan seemed really stressed."

"We were," he said, adjusting his cap. "We really do need some more funding to update our equipment—careful, that knob is really sensitive. Good, nice work."

Once you and Jihoon had successfully finished with this panel, you lingered in the hallway for a moment. Normally, you would switch back and forth between shadowing either Chan or Jihoon, and tonight was with the latter. He was going through a couple forms on his clipboard—he must have been reading through them while working tonight.

"You seem distracted tonight, Yn-ie," he said. "Is everything okay?"

Despite being one of the busiest and hardest workers here, Jihoon was also one of the most observant, still. You leaned against the wall next to him, toeing at the floor. "Boys are stupid, right?"

Without hesitation or looking up from his clipboard, he replied, "As a boy, I can confirm."

That made you sputter out a laugh, and you saw him glance up and flash you a smile. When you couldn't find something else to say, he went forth. "I don't know the whole situation, and you don't have to tell me anything. But we guys are a little—" he made a gesture with his hands and wrinkled his nose, "—blind. You probably know that already, but dudes are dumbasses, and sometimes when feelings get in the way, they want to run for the hills.

"But if you think he's worth it, then reach out and be forward with him. And if he cares about you, he'll reach out and be honest," he finished. He let you settle with that thought, let it marinate in your brain to give you something to think about. (As if you didn't have a lot to think about already.)

You pressed your lips together with a slow nod. "Thanks Jihoon."

"Anytime, Yn-ie." He nodded back toward the direction you both had come from. "Let's go back that way, yeah? We've got some more housekeeping to take care of."

— ✶

Sunwoo was in trouble.

"...I thought I'd recommend a song that's been on my mind. I've actually been listening to quite a few Taylor Swift songs recently, especially since she's re-recording all her albums! So here's 'Superstar' from Fearless, Taylor's Version."

He had put your most recent podcast episode on full volume while he made himself dinner. It had been a long day today, and so his automatic thought was to listen to you. But now that he was getting into the meat of the episode, he was quickly coming to realize how much trouble he was in. You were playing the song, and it was a direct call out to him to wake the fuck up.

As the song faded to a close, your voice came back on.

"Actually, I was recommended the song by someone I know," you said in the mellow tone you'd been in for the entire episode so far. "I guess I'm just confused and I was wondering if they really meant what they said."

Sunwoo nearly dropped the egg in his hand onto the kitchen floor. Guilt swirled around in the bubbles of the soup in the pot and he frowned down at the rich, creamy liquid.

He sighed, tapping the egg against the counter and cracking its innards into the pot. "Of course, I really meant it," he said as if you could hear him. He wished he had the guts to tell you everything that was going on in his head… As his soup boiled away, he leaned against the empty counter to wait, cradling his head in his hands, groaning. "You're being unfair, Sunwoo."

"...This one's from Peony! They say: almost didn't realize Rhaps Anon wasn't in the last episode until the very end when we hadn't gotten a rec from them. Hope they're doing okay!" Ah, so you weren't the only one who noticed his brief absence. Your sigh filled the apartment, though, he heard the way you tried to force some kind of cheeriness into it. "Yeah, I hope they're doing okay too. But Rhaps'll be back! Let's all wish them well. Fighting!—"

Oh, man. Now he felt even worse.

He really needed to talk to you. Oh god, he really needed to talk to you. If not to confess, then to clear the air and assure you that all was okay on his end. He was just being a coward, and he knew that well enough now.

When his dinner had finished, Sunwoo turned the flame off and headed for his phone on the opposite counter. He lowered the volume as he went in and pulled up his text thread with you.

sunwoo's phone: hey,, i know ur probs busy w the play this week, but is there a possibility for me to see you sometime soon? i wanted to talk to u abt something

He gnawed on his bottom lip as he awaited your answer, until he realized you were probably working. That made him drop his phone and return to his dinner—maybe he just needed to not look, so his anxiety wasn't so high—

His phone buzzed and he bolted back over.

superstar 💫: i think i'll prob have some time saturday morning

EPISODE ELEVEN: [SOMEONE'S LOOKING OUT FOR YOU, LOSERS.]

YOU asked Sunwoo if he'd like to tag along with you as you did some grocery shopping before rehearsal on Saturday morning. His answer had been automatic, and you both agreed to meet each other at the bus stop to ride down to the larger supermarket down the hill together. Even as you stood at the corner of your street waiting for him beneath the overhang, you were trying to come up with possible things he was going to say to you. You had figured, when he’d texted you Wednesday night, that perhaps the best way to go about this would be to make this casual. Hence, why you were forcing yourself to go grocery shopping a day earlier than you usually did.

Casual, in this case, called for “you don’t have stare me in the eyes the entire time,” and to be frank, you were a little too nervous for that kind of setting anyway.

You tugged the edges of your cardigan over you as you heard your name being called from the opposing street. Sunwoo was bounding his way over to you with his arm raised in greeting. You returned the gesture with a soft smile. “Hey.”

He stopped by you, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gray jacket. “Hi,” he said, licking his lips. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

The bus slowed to a halt in front of your stop, and the two of you retrieved your transportation cards to board. “You say that like I wouldn’t have agreed,” you chuckled and tapped your card, Sunwoo following suit.

The two of you managed to find a pair of empty seats near the second half of the vehicle where the exit was for an easy departure when you reached the foot of the hill. But for now, you tucked your bag onto your lap and settled into the window seat, while Sunwoo occupied the one next to you.

You turned your head to gaze out the window and watch the world blur by as you did. The Avenue streets were a tad narrower than most around the university, so the bus traveled as efficiently as it could from stop to stop before turning the block to make its descent. It was technically still morning, and though it was spring, the sky had decided to blanket the sunshine with gray clouds to form an atmosphere that reminded you distinctly of the past winter quarter. Except, instead of thin, empty branches, the streets and walkways were encased in darkening green leaves and falling pink petals, a nod to the short-lived cherry blossom season. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo’s foot start to tap against the ground like Thumper the Rabbit, and you wondered for the millionth time what was going on in that pretty head of his.

“I don’t really understand,” you found yourself saying—his head swiveled—and you turned to look at him, “did I do something wrong?”

Sunwoo stammered, "What? No, it wasn't you! It wasn't your fault at all—I was just—" he sighed, grimacing to himself. "I was just being stupid. And I know that sounds super vague, but the short answer is that I was being stupid and scared and insecure."

Your brows furrowed and you felt the bus come to a gentle stop at the foot of the hill. "Scared and insecure? What's going on; is everything okay?"

You both got up to make a quick exit off the bus and began making the short walk from the bus station into the outdoor shopping center.

There was a jittery bounce to Sunwoo's steps as well as a tension in his shoulders. "Last week," he began, "Jisung told me that he'd just left you at the practice room and that you were probably going to be there awhile."

You nodded, grabbing a basket at the front of the grocery store. That rang a bell for sure. It had been a very long day in the practice room, so you weren't quite sure what direction this was going in yet.

"Well, I wanted to go surprise you and come hang out with you. You know, like, to keep you company." He started scouring the opposite shelf to you in the dried foods aisle, his eyes nervously darting from the BUY ONE, GET ONE pasta noodles deal signs, to your person. "And when I got there, I saw you and Yangyang."

Me and Yangyang…? Oh, me and Yangyang.

It was like a lightbulb went off in your head, and you stopped pretending to look at the overpriced vermicelli noodles on the shelf behind you.

"And you guys were hugging and close and stuff—and by all means! I—I have no problem with that, of course," he added quickly, "I mean, you guys are really close… friends? And I just saw him lean toward you and left because I… I got the message." The latter portion was delivered in a defeated tone as he looked on toward you helplessly and sorrowfully. It was how Sieun described you Tuesday night when you'd seen Sunwoo at the restaurant: a sad sap.

You both stopped moving down the aisle to face each other. In the white, fluorescent supermarket lights, his hair hung in his eyes like his head in embarrassment. You were going to let him finish.

He cupped the back of his head, suddenly feeling so bare before you despite not being physically naked at all. "I thought some space might distinguish or extinguish my feelings for you," he continued, nose wrinkling and lip curling in a wince. "Clearly it didn't help, and I think overall, I realized I wasn't being fair to you—as a friend. And that I was also being the biggest fucking loser ever."

Wait, you were still reeling from the mentions about feelings—

Before you could even address the aforementioned, you had to make something clear first. You felt the corners of your lips lift. "Sunwoo, me and Yangyang really are just friends." At the confused, puppy-dog look in his eyes, you explained further, "That day, Yangyang came by and I made it clear to him that I just saw him as a friend. I felt really awful for feeling like I'd led him on and was going to lose his friendship."

Sunwoo's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and he struggled to come up with the response he wanted. "So… so when he was leaning in toward you…"

"He leaned in and flicked my nose, then almost gave me a nosebleed," you chuckled. You'd given him a very appropriate flick to the forehead after that.

His eyes widened at that. "Well shit. Are you okay?" He asked, and you saw his smile slowly begin to make its appearance, the sun peeking through an overcast sky.

"Yeah, perfectly fine," you dismissed with a flick of your hand. "Especially now. But yeah, we're just friends."

There was a surge of relief in his tense shoulders. "Oh, okay."

He trailed after you as you continued to make your way down this aisle in particular to pick up the things that were on your shopping list.

At one point, he coughed, handing you the jar of red peppers you were reaching for. "So no hard feelings, right? I promise it will be totally back to normal!"

"Normal, as in back to before?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah! To be honest, Dovey, I was just kind of scared that I had lost my chance after waiting so long. I don't know. And I realized that I was just scared to face that fact."

You gauged his reaction and your own heart thundered in your chest. "Scared to face the fact that you'd lost your chance with me?"

"Well, yeah. I—" He stopped and froze like a deer in headlights. And in any other circumstance, you would have been laughing, but he seemed so distraught by what he just admitted to that you tried hard to suppress your amusement. Tried. "I just said that aloud, huh."

Nodding, you grinned fondly. "You did."

He smiled, cute and flustered, cheeks tinted pink. "You're always too easy a person to talk to," he muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I would've said something sooner…" He began.

Something jumped to attention in your brain. Oh no. "Was I giving you mixed signals?" You pursed your lips like you'd just gotten into something sour. "'Cause I swore I thought my attraction to you was clear. And, like, the thing where I totally began rethinking my thoughts about Yangyang when you came into the picture—"

"Wow, so Changmin was right?" Sunwoo made a face, holding his hand against his forehead. "That's crazy."

"Crazy good or…?"

He chuckled, and you couldn't help but admire the twinkle in his eyes as he did. "Crazy so good."

"I don't think people actually say that."

He whined, "Yah, you can't already be clowning me. Not when I just confessed that I like you."

That made you sober up, but you couldn't say the same for your heart rate. Man, your BPM alone could probably power a bullet train… "I like you, too. I hope that's clear."

There you two stood in the middle of the dried foods aisle with twin smiles glowing on your faces, soft and shared. You didn't know what the BOGO pasta was doing, but it was definitely adding to the atmosphere. You had intended for running errands to distract you from whatever Sunwoo had wanted to talk to you about, but clearly that was not the case—it would have never worked like that. You would be damned to have missed something like this. Not with him.

Perhaps he had made a mistake—he was now apologizing and clarifying and trying. You could hear Jihoon's words of wisdom ring loud and clear in your head. There was something perfectly fine about how this turned out.

"No more mixed signals?"

"No more mixed signals," he agreed.

— ✶

The remainder of your errand run with Sunwoo had gone smoothly, and soon, you were both seated side by side once more on the bus up to the University District. Sunwoo had gotten a couple things for his fridge, too, and so you both sat with your grocery bags by each other and your fingers grazing the other. Ever since you had clarified your position with Sunwoo a little over an hour ago, you had been feeling much lighter, your heart skipping for a different reason. You were back to feeling the giddy excitement you always had around him, and especially since you knew he saw you in exactly the same way.

The two of you shared a laugh as you stepped off the bus and onto your block, grocery bags in hand.

“—I’m being completely serious! Apparently I was just snot-nosed wailing into her shirt about being single and forever alone,” Sunwoo guffawed, grinning wide at you as you both stopped to the side of the walkway. “And Eric was pissed, oh my god.”

“I mean, you just kiss-blocked him; kind of understandable,” you mused.

Sunwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Aye, I know. He’s a good guy though. Total loser, but a good loser. He made me hangover soup the next day.”

You let out a laugh, walking slowly with him down toward the entrance of your apartment complex. "That was sweet of him."

He snorted, "A little out of character, but yeah."

"You know," you piped up, "when I was applying and eventually interviewing for the position with Chan and Jihoon, I had no idea what either of them looked like. So I accidentally—woah, shi—"

Somebody coming down the sidewalk toward you crashed into your shoulder and sent you careening toward the sidewalk. Sunwoo swore as you let out a squeak—his arm looping around your waist and hauling you against him to steady you.

He lifted his head in the direction of the person with a glower on his face. "Hey! Dude, watch where you're going!"

"Thanks," you said sheepishly.

He turned to fix you with a smile, and you saw the moment he realized the position you were both in: you pressed firmly up against the side of his body, his arm wrapped around you, your faces so close to one another… He released his hold on you, neck burning as he cupped the back of it. "Heh, yeah. It's no problem. People should just really watch where they're going."

You coughed and nodded your head. "Yeah, for sure."

The pair of you were now in front of your apartment complex once more, reluctant to say goodbye. You wondered if he would ask to spend more time with you, but you had a feeling that he wouldn't want to intrude on your time any longer. It wasn't like he was intruding to you, but it was just a feeling you had about him. He wanted to respect your time.

And, well, you both had groceries to put away.

"So I'll uh, talk to you soon then?" You asked him, holding your grocery bags in front of you.

He peered at you through his lashes. "Definitely."

"This morning turned out way better than I thought it would, to be honest."

"Yeah no, same here," he echoed. "I'm just glad you actually gave me another chance."

You reached over and gave his shoulder a playful punch. "How could I not? I've always believed in you."

That seemed to ignite something inside of him. He jutted his bottom lip out and whined, "Oh my god, you can't just say that! You're so—wah."

You giggled, watching him squirm like he was being jolted by electricity. "Hey man, sometimes you've gotta be straightforward."

"Yeah, I know." He sobered slightly and took a step forward. Your heart clambered around in your chest and rattled your ribcage. There was this look in his eyes that made you glance at his lips—his perfect, plush, pink lips.

You held still, held your whole fucking breath, as he turned his head and kissed your cheek. It was feather-light, barely there, and yet, all the heat in your body seemed to rush to that single spot in a millisecond.

When he pulled away, his voice was soft. "How's that for straightforward?"

EPISODE TWELVE: ONE LOVE SONG CAN'T CONVEY HOW I FEEL FOR YOU, SO HERE'S TWENTY—

SUNWOO imagined that he looked as cartoonish as any man in love could. There had to be hearts in eyes, hearts around his head, hearts on a glittery pink trail that carried him everywhere he went. He giggled to himself as he fished his house keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door to let himself in.

"Oh my god. We've properly lost him."

With a loud, war-like AHHH!, Sunwoo yelped and nearly dropped his groceries, struggling to hold the bags to his chest as he pressed himself against the back of the front door. His apartment filled with high-pitched cackles of delight.

Though his heart was going through about a million cartwheels a second, he managed to force the fear from his eyes as embarrassment flooded his system. He flared his nostrils, frowning and tipping his head against the door. "I hate you guys!"

"You should hate Eric for giving JC!Yn your apartment key," Changmin wheezed, slapping his hands together and rolling around on the living room carpet as he pointed and laughed at Sunwoo's absolute misery. "You should've seen your face!"

Chanhee was on the couch with his legs curled up into his chest as he had his phone out, recording the entire thing. "This one's going in the drunk Sunwoo folder."

"Yah, I'm not even drunk!"

Chanhee shrugged. "It's become your general meme folder now. We should probably rename it."

Sunwoo whipped his head toward JC!Yn, who was seated on the opposite end of the couch with an amused smile on her face. "Noona! Are you just gonna let them bully me like this?"

Her smile widened. "Sorry, Sunwoo, but we didn't think you would miss us completely when you came in."

He let out a loud groan, fragging himself over to the kitchen so he could set the grocery bags on the counter and begin to unload them. "What're you guys doing here anyways? Isn't it Saturday morning? Where's Kei?" He asked, unloading a carton of juice from the bag and slotting it into the fridge.

Kei was JC!Yn's roommate, and the two girls always went on a grocery shopping date every Saturday morning with Changmin and Chanhee. They often made Changmin drive since he had the biggest car, and grocery shopping was an exclusive event that only the four of them were allowed to partake in. Eric, Sunwoo, and even Jacob had expressed distaste at that elitism. One of these days, they were bound to let someone else join… right?

But regardless, that always meant that Saturday mornings were occupied for them. So why were three-quarters of the group currently invading Sunwoo's apartment?

Changmin sat up from his place on the floor and fixed Sunwoo with a grin that made him nervous. "We dropped her off at their place, and we did go shopping this morning, but you'll never guess the curious thing we witnessed while we were there." His giggles sent a doom-like shiver down Sunwoo's spine.

Then it clicked.

Sunwoo abruptly stopped taking dried noodle packages out of the grocery bag. "You're kidding."

A snort from Chanhee. "Oh, you wish."

Sunwoo bashed his head against his sweater-covered palms. "No."

"Yes!" Changmin shrieked.

"I didn't know you guys went to that supermarket!" Sunwoo wailed, throwing his head back toward the ceiling. "You guys saw us?"

JC!Yn rested her chin against her arm as she leaned over the back of the couch to face him. "We heard you, too. I'm glad you decided to own up to your chicken-ness. See? Wasn't so scary after all."

Well, he couldn't exactly agree with that. But he also couldn't disagree with it. He'd been so scared he was about to lose your friendship then for being so insecure for no reason. A simple clarifying question could have saved the both of you so much strife. But the conversation also reaped rewards: your mutual confessions.

He sulked and didn't say anything.

"It was cute though, Sunwoo-ah," said Chanhee with a teasing lilt to his smile.

"And also," Changmin cut in, "what do you mean 'so Changmin was right? That's crazy?!'"

Sunwoo snorted. "Now that, I have nothing to say to."

"So what's the deal now?" JC!Yn asked. "Are you two dating now or…?"

Oh. Another long pause, then— "Oh my god, you didn't ask her out?"

"Hey! Listen!" Sunwoo yelled in an attempt to defend himself.

"We're listening." Chanhee folded his arms over his chest with a less than impressed look on his face. He scoffed. "I can't believe you pull."

"Shut up!"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet—how can he pull?" Changmin quipped back with frenzied gesticulations.

Sunwoo groaned as he flopped over the counter. He couldn't believe he was having such a good morning, and now he was being berated once more for his stupidity. How could he not ask you out? It was right there! The opportunity had presented itself a multitude of times, and yet, why was he still here, dateless?

Then there came the thought of how to go about this. There was a part of him who thought that just asking you was probably fine. But the other part remembered how much he liked you—so texting was simply not an option. It had to have some pizzazz, a bit of oomph, to it.

"We can see the gears turning in your head, Sunwoo," said JC!Yn. "What's on your mind, bub?"

Sunwoo looked up from where he had smattered himself onto the kitchen counter like a pancake. "I have no rizz."

Chanhee coughed. "Well, that's not news."

Sunwoo sent him a scowl. "How should I ask her out? I kind of want it to be special, you know?"

"Hmm." JC!Yn pursed her lips, tapping her chin in thought. "The other day, I was talking to Sangyeon about music or something or other, and he showed me the playlist he'd made his girlfriend—"

"His fake girlfriend," Changmin corrected with a little smirk.

She rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Lee Sangyeon is not sad enough to make fake playlists for his fake girlfriend." It was a known inside joke amongst the friend group that Sangyeon had a "secret girlfriend" stashed away somewhere. A few of them liked to joke that she either didn't actually exist or that he kept her locked in his laundry machine or something. Mostly, though, they just wanted to know if he actually was single or not. What was the point of keeping her a secret anyway?

The slight change in victim brought Sunwoo's mood up. "What about the playlist, noona?"

She blinked, turning her attention back to her original train of thought. "Oh, right. What if you made her one of those cute, romantic playlists?"

The four of them exchanged glances with one another. It was a silent form of communication, one that had one uniform thought running through the wire.

— ✶

You'd received a text from Sunwoo about thirty minutes ago asking if he could stop by your apartment to drop off something of yours. Apparently, in the madness of the checkout aisle at the grocery store, he had accidentally "stolen" one of your cans of chicken noodle soup.

You hadn't bought chicken noodle soup though.

This was why you now anxiously awaited his arrival for the real reason he wanted to stop by. You had literally just seen him about an hour or two ago, but you'd be lying if you said you were happy at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. Your cheek still seared from his kiss.

As if he could read your thoughts, you heard a loud series of knocks at the door.

"Coming!" You called, hustling over from your living space area and over to the door.

After peeking through the peephole, you definitely saw Sunwoo, but what he was holding was nowhere near the likeness of a can of chicken noodle soup.

In a hurry, you ripped the door open, lips parted at the bundle of bright colored blooms in his hands. Sunflowers and carnations and lilies and roses—

He peered out sheepishly from behind the bouquet with his other hand occupied by his open phone. "Hi," he peeped.

"Hey," you exhaled, a grin fighting its way onto your face.

"If I made you a playlist, would you go out with me?"

You blinked, heartbeat rocketing into high gear. "Sunwoo," you started with a disbelieving laugh, "you don't have to—"

His thumb lowered onto a button on his phone. "Whoopsies, already did it."

Right on cue, you heard your phone buzz from your pocket. Curious, you withdrew it and opened the text message from him with a link to a Spotify playlist entitled: "One love song can't convey how I feel for you, so here's twenty."

You could have melted into a puddle of ooey-gooey goodness. "Sunwoo," you lamented, smiling way too wide now.

He beamed back at you. "What do you say?"

You shook your head, throwing your arms around him as he laughed and hugged you back. "You're so cute. Yes, I'll go out with you."

He gave you a little, warm squeeze. "Oh, thank god. I thought I was gonna die from anticipation."

You laughed and smiled into his shoulder. When you pulled away, your hand gently reached for the side of his face. "What if I kissed you right now?"

His eyes widened a smidge. "What if you wha--"

You cut him off and pressed your lips to his briefly, then pulled back.

"Wait, wait. Come back here," he murmured, chasing after you and crushing his mouth against yours. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect. The feel of his lips, the smell of his cologne, the firmness of his shoulders beneath your grip and the perfect pressure as you both sealed the deal with a kiss.

The two of you pulled away at the same time with labored breaths, foreheads meshed together as you caught your breath.

"You're not gonna turn this into a podcast episode, are you?" He asked, voice low and raspy, yet laced in a playful tonic.

You teased him right back. "As long as it doesn't end poorly."

He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations of his laugh against your lips. "Then I guess I'll just have to make it the best date ever."

"Don't worry," you said with a cheeky hand on his chest, "I believe in you."

With a laugh, he grazed his lips over yours again. "Thanks, superstar."

a/n: hihi!! thanks so much for reading <3 if you enjoyed, i would deeply appreciate a comment, reblog, or an ask to tell me what u thought about it! much love, onto kevin's !!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @hibernatinghamster @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @kflixnet

[jflemings]

— remember to say goodnight

pairing: jessie fleming x aussie!reader

synopsis: when jessie finally gets the nerve to confess her feelings to you, she thinks she sees you locking lips with one of your national teammates

warnings: miscommunication, angst w a happy ending, one pretty little liars spoiler?? 😭 idk just thought i’d include it in the warnings

a/n: sam and kyra always at the scene of the crime….

“just tell her how you feel”

sam’s words snap jessie out of her daze, her eyes darting towards her club captain that’s taking a seat beside her. heat blooms over the midfielder’s already rosy cheeks as sam smirks.

she’d been staring at you from her spot on the bench. you’re happily chatting away with kyra, your arms flailing about as the two of you animatedly speak at rather then to one another. it’s not like she had intended to stare directly at you, she couldn’t help the fact that her eyes somehow always managed to find you wherever the two of you were. sometimes she thought that perhaps the reason she was so drawn to you was because of the light aura that surrounded you, practically begging for the attention of anyone within fifty meters of you.

jessie sighed and leant back “i’ve tried that. lost my nerve everytime i got too close” she confesses quietly as you and kyra begin to walk towards the tunnel, still caught up in eachother.

as you get closer to where sam and jessie are sitting, you lock eyes with jess over kyra’s shoulder and smile. jessie somehow manages to sink further into her seat and give you a small wave before kyra follows your line of sight. the arsenal midfielder brightly smiles at jessie and her national captain, pairing it with an enthusiastic wave before turning around back to you and shoving you in the shoulder.

upon contact, your eyes widen and dart to kyra who can only snicker in response. she throws her head back and laughs wildly into the tunnel, the joyful sound bouncing off the walls and flowing back out to the two chelsea players like a melody.

sam watches the whole interaction closely, a half smirk present on her face as she watches the younger midfielder kick out her legs and run her hands over her face. jessie sighs deeply and looks to sam with her eyebrows dropped and mouth in a straight line.

“this shit is clearly eating at you, jess, just go talk to her” sam pushes carefully “what’s the worst that could happen?”

jessie rolls her eyes “she could avoid me for all of time”

sam’s expression drops almost comically. she of all people know that jessie is dead wrong, there have been numerous times where you had ranted to sam about your, quote, ‘helpless, pathetic and straight up embarrassing’ crush on the canadian. every conversation ended with sam trying to push you to tell your close friend, only to be met without loud protests and excuses.

sam kisses her teeth “she won’t avoid you”

“you’re just saying that to get me out of my head”

“jessie, seriously, i’m not pushing for no reason” sam says sternly “if this is really bothering you then go talk to her. tell her how you feel. you know that, if anything, she’d appreciate your honesty”

cogs rapidly turn in jessie’s head as she thinks of every outcome possible. realistically she knows that sam is right, you would appreciate her honesty and that you probably wouldn’t avoid her, at least not forever. the canadian doesn’t know if it’s sam’s encouraging words or just a surge of confidence that makes her wipe her palms on her shorts before shooting up out of her seat, a determined look on her face as she turns to sam.

“i’m gonna do it” she says confidently

a smile immediately breaks on sam’s face and she hits the back of her hand against her teammate’s hip encouragingly “go on, jess! come back immediately and tell me how it goes!”

jessie doesn’t spare her another glance as she trudges on, her confidence still going steady as she approaches the tunnel. she’s wringing out her hands and going over what to say in her head when she gets to the entrance, her newfound confidence suddenly nose diving as she looks up.

your back is facing towards her, your number and last name on full display, as a pair of tan hands snake their way around your neck and pull you in. your hands immediately go to the waist of the person that’s holding you and that’s when she sees it. the number thirty two printed proudly on the shorts of the person you’re kissing.

kyra.

jessie’s heart drops and she doesn’t hesitate to turn on her heel and speed walk straight back to sam, feeling guilty that she had missed the signs that one of her closest friends was in a relationship. her face burns red as the image replays over and over in her head. she couldn’t help but feel jealous of the fact that kyra was the one who had her hands and lips all over you and not her. she couldn’t help but curse herself for thinking that perhaps your friendship was something it clearly wasn’t.

she sits back down next to sam wordlessly, the latter looking up from her phone confused “what, did you chicken out again?” sam snickers unknowingly.

jess almost curls in on herself “you… did you know she’s with kyra?” the midfielder all but whispers like she’s telling a secret

sam’s eyes go wide, her expression blown out with shock “i beg your pardon?” she questions, confusion laced in her words

jessie looks to her friend blankly “did she ever mention that she’s seeing kyra?” she asks again.

“she’s not with kyra” sam assures confidently “i would know if her and kyra were dating” she says, brows furrowing

wordlessly, and quite helplessly, jessie leans her head back and closes her eyes “i just saw them kissing, they looked pretty together to me”

whatever sam was looking at on her phone before jessie sat back down is long forgotten as she stands abruptly. she shakes out her shoulders and immediately staunches the way jessie came, brows furrowed and mouth turned in a frown.

jessie is quick to react “sam! what are you doing”

“what does it look like i’m doing? i’m going to go talk to her” sam replied huffing, her brows furrowed

“it looks like you’re going to get mad at our friend for being in a relationship” jessie says. her brown eyes are blown wide and pleading at sam to stay put.

sam sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose “jess you don’t get it”

jessie’s face scrunches up in confusion “what do you mean i don’t get it? there’s no rules saying that you can’t date someone in your team and it’s not like you’ve had a problem with it before!”

the australian striker physically deflates and looks back and forth between the direction you went in and the canadian in front of her. her eyes swirl with inner conflict, like she’s trying her hardest to come up with a solution for something she deems a problem. jessie doesn’t know what’s come over sam, there’s no reason for her to be angry right now. sometimes things just don’t work out the way you want them to but that isn’t a reason why sam would be reacting this way.

kyra was a good person and the two of you clearly got along well. sure, she’d fallen into the annoying little sister role for both arsenal and the matildas but she was a talented player who knew how to put her head down and get to work. there have been multiple occasions where sam has done nothing but praise kyra as a person and a player, so for her to suddenly be up in arms about the possibility of the two of you dating is just ridiculous.

sam waves jessie off “don’t worry about it” she says quietly as she sits back down “you’re right, it’s not a big deal”

———

jessie has been avoiding you for almost three weeks now and she’s been shit at pretending she’s not.

of course, she keeps it professional enough that it doesn’t affect the team, but she can’t keep it private enough to keep said team out of your business. when they ask you what jessie’s problem is the only answer you can give them is a vague one, a mere shoulder shrug when you really aren’t in the mood, and send them on their way.

it has been killing you because it happened gradually. first she’d text you less, then she told you that there was no need to carpool anymore, and now she was doing everything in her power to avoid you whenever you had to partner up for training or the bus. you were fucking sick of it.

jessie wasn’t like this at all. if she was mad she’d give the silent treatment for maybe two days before coming back, always preferring to talk things out. because of this you know that she felt comfortable and secure enough within your friendship to come to you on the rare occasion she had an issue. you really had tried everything you could think of from texting her more, to trying to make conversation when you two would happen to be walking into cobham at the same time. you even bought her the odd coffee and left it in her cubby but nothing was working.

which lead you here, curled up on your couch moping around just praying that she’d put you out of your misery and shoot you a quick text.

she obviously didn’t, but it’s good to have ambition.

you can feel your mind going numb as a result of the pretty little liars re-binge you were currently on, too unfocused to watch a show you hadn’t before. it probably wasn’t a good idea though since you’d convinced jessie to watch it with you. you could practically hear her peanut gallery commentary in the back of your mind running on repeat like a broken record.

to say you were in shambles was a bit of an understatement, which is probably what leads kyra into your home. she doesn’t knock, because when does she ever, choosing to instead announce herself loudly as she walks through the door. you don’t answer her but she follows the noise of the tv straight into your living room.

you’re laying on your side under a throw blanket with a miserable look on your face and she can tell that you haven’t moved in a few hours. she gasps when she sees alison dramatically turn around on screen, followed by the signature line ‘did you miss me?”.

the gunner looks between you and the tv “oh wow you’re really going through it, normally that scene gets a reaction out of you everytime” she says whilst manoeuvring herself around you, sitting on your feet at the end of the couch.

she pats your leg “tell kyra what’s wrong”

“you know what’s wrong” you murmur sourly, pulling the blanket further up to your chin

kyra clicks her tongue “jessie still not speaking to you?”

“no!” you say forcefully whilst sitting up “i don’t know what i’ve done! she won’t even be in the same room as me for longer than five minutes” you exclaim

the midfielder purses her lips “that’s a bit of a stretch”

“kyra—”

“okay yup, not helping, fully understood”

you sigh and flop back down on the couch, throwing your arm over your face incase you start tearing up “i just miss her so much”

kyra hears the slight break in your voice and her face softens. she reaches for you and pulls your arm off your face before pulling you up and into her, wrapping her arms protectively around you “she’ll come around, y/n/n. it might not even be about you”

you scoff into her chest “she’s speaking to everyone on the team but me and it’s like whenever i’m around, sam magically appears and creates even more distance between us”

“what?” kyra asks shocked, pushing you back ever so slightly so she can look at you “sam? as in sammy?”

you meekly nod “i don’t know what i’ve done and no one will tell me”

kyra’s mouth turns down in a frown just as tears well up in your eyes, they quickly spill over your waterline in waves and you’re unable to stop them until they’ve completely soaked kyra’s jumper. she runs her hand through your hair as you cry to her, unsure of what to do or say in this situation. sam wasn’t normally one to get involved unless she felt like she absolutely had to so the fact that she was actively making sure that there was always distance between you and jessie puzzled the young midfielder.

your head snaps towards your front door when you hear it open and close, whoever just walked in choosing not to knock like kyra.

sam quietly walks into your living room, clearly not expecting you to have company if her wide eyes are anything to go by “i didn’t realise you had company”

your brow quirks “what are you doing here?” you ask breathlessly.

sam shuffles her feet as she notices your puffy eyes and pink face “we really need to talk”

dread overcomes you, her words sending a chill up your spine “what’s going on with jessie?” you ask, almost afraid of the answer.

the striker’s face contorts before settling again “that’s what we need to talk about” her voice is quiet as she looks to kyra “but i don’t know if kyra needs to hear this”

kyra immediately stands “i can leave it’s-”

“no” you say forcefully

“y/n” sam says through gritted teeth “this isn’t a conversation you want your girlfriend to hear”

both you and kyra’s jaws drop, your eyebrows have raised the highest they’ve ever raised before and you stare at sam in disbelief

“girlfriend!”

“girlfriend?”

you’re both shocked, and quite confused about where sam got that idea from “after the conversations we’ve had why on fucking earth would you think that kyra and i are together!?” your voice raises “have you finally done your head in?”

kyra quickly looks between the two of you “we- no. no, no, no” kyra exclaims whilst waving her hands in an X motion.

“but jessie said-”

“jessie”

sam sighs before starting her sentence again “jessie said that she saw the two of you kissing in the tunnel a couple weeks ago, after the game”

you wrack your brain for what exactly sam could be referring to until it hits you. you bury your face in your hands just as kyra has the sam realisation.

“oh my god we weren’t kissing! i was teasing her about not making a move on jessie yet, it was a joke” kyra defends “i was pretending to kiss her to take the piss out of her, not to actually kiss her”

your captain pulls her lips into a thin line and sighs once again, squeezing her eyes shut “you’re telling me that it only looked like the two of you were kissing because kyra wanted you to kiss jessie?” she asks tiredly

“yes!” the pair of you exclaim in unison, eager for sam to understand that it was all just a joke.

you pull your face out of your hands confused “why would she even care about that?” you ask cluelessly, clearly too focused on the impossible idea that you and kyra were a couple.

sam and kyra stare at eachother silently, the pair wearing identical blank expressions. the hours you’ve spent in front of the tv must’ve really melted your brain because you take longer than needed to understand why jess could’ve possibly been so upset with the thought that you were dating your matildas teammate.

upon realisation, you throw the blanket off yourself and practically push kyra out of the way as you leap up out of your seat to hastily grab your car keys from the kitchen counter. you don’t waste anytime racing to your front door and sliding on your birkenstocks over your socks before practically throwing your front door open “if you leave lock my door and turn off my tv! ‘kay thanks bye!” you shout from halfway out of your flat.

“where are you going?” kyra questions

you pop your head back in “to go see the woman i’m actually in love with!”

you hear kyra let out a grunt of disbelief before you race to your car, not even caring that you’re not really dressed for london weather at the moment. the only thought running though your mind being jessiejessiejessie.

———

jessie’s sat on her bed reading when she hears someone pounding at her front door, practically jumping out of her skin as she throws her covers off herself and speed walks to the entrance. she opens her door to you dressed in your old brisbane roar jumper and a pair of gray sweats, a nervous but wild look on your face.

her brain short circuits as she looks at you, her hand fiddles with the sleeve of her flannel nervously while she thinks of the right thing to say to you.

apparently you’ve already thought of what you wanted to say, though, as the words come tumbling out of your mouth without a warning.

“i wasn’t kissing kyra” you say half breathlessly “she- we- it’s not like that”

jessie’s face burns bright red because of your words, clearly not expecting you to know about what she thinks she saw.

“oh” the canadian replies dumbly

you shoot her an endearing smile and tilt your head ever so slightly “what you saw was kyra making fun of me” you explain timidly “she was just taking the piss, trying to get a laugh out of me”

“she was making fun of you by pretending to kiss you?” jess questions with her head cocked “why-”

“because i haven’t kissed you”

jessie sucks in a sharp breath after you cut her off because never in a million years did she think that the two of you would be in this situation right now. she’d talked to niamh about it, even sam when she felt like she could, but she didn’t think that it would actually happen.

she steps aside and lets you into her flat, holding her arm out wide in an inviting manner. you smile at her and step into her place, the smell of warm lavender instantly hitting you upon entrance.

“can i ask why sam was so upset?”

“can i ask why you thought it was a good idea to avoid me for almost a month?” you deflect, wanting an answer and to keep your cards close to your chest for now.

a blush creeps up jessie’s neck and she looks down “i didn’t plan to but i thought that maybe it would be better if we didn’t spend as much time together for a little while” she confesses quietly before looking back to you “why was sam so upset with you?”

you freeze and scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, having a debate with yourself about wether or not this was the right time to say it. you had known about how strong your feelings are for jess for a while now, but telling her was a completely different ball game. there was every chance that her feelings aren’t as strong or that you scare her off because you’re being too forward.

“we, uhm, sam and i just had a conversation before all this happened and i guess she got upset because she thought i was being an ass”

jessie leads you to her kitchen with a wave of her hand, urging you to sit down whilst she grabbed out two mugs and two tea bags “can i know what the conversation was about?” she questions again.

you toss your options up in your head as she turns the kettle on and grabs the sugar. the sight of her just making tea for the two of you paired with the soft warm lighting of her place makes you feel at home and safe, leaving your heart swelling in your chest at the possibility of this being your future.

“i told sam that i’m in love with you, so when she heard that kyra and i were ‘together’ she was understandably upset” you mumble, casting your eyes down the the bench your hands rest on “she was just being a good friend”

jessie leans her lower back against the counter as she turns to face you, a small, shy smile playing on her lips. she frowns when she realises that you won’t look her in the eye and quickly leans into your personal space, hooking a finger under your chin

“i’m sorry i avoided you” she murmurs “and i’m sorry that we didn’t get the chance to have this conversation sooner”

you give her a half smile and nod “it’s okay”

“no it’s not” jessie says, shaking her head “i’m in love with you and i would really like it if you gave me a chance to be honest with you about it”

your face heats up just as the kettle whistles, leaving jessie to tend to it with a sigh. she pours the boiling water into the mugs, followed by milk, before handing you the steaming beverage with a smile. she places her forearms on top of the counter and leans over again “you know when you drunk called me after you knocked us out of the world cup?”

you grimace “…yes”

“do you remember what you said to me?”

your finger traces the rim of your mug as you think back to that blurry night. knocking the olympic gold medalists out of a world cup on home soil meant that you and the girls went a bit hard that night and you can only recall calling jessie’s contact after kyra had handed you your forth shot of vodka and told you that it was a good idea to get on the phone to your club teammate.

you shake your head in response, and jessie smiles “you said that you were just calling to say goodnight” she laughs lightly to herself “you were absolutely plastered out celebrating with your team and you called me to say goodnight”

you furrow your brows, not really recognising the significance. you said it to her almost every night, no matter what time zone you were in, it had just become a habit.

jessie sees your confusion and hooks a finger under your chin once again “it meant everything to me that you remembered to say goodnight”

suddenly everything clicked for you. your eyes go slightly wide before looking down at jessie’s lips and then back up to her honey brown eyes, wanting nothing more than to kiss her. one hand finds her wrist whilst the other gently grips her cheek, pulling her further into your space.

your lips fit together like puzzle pieces, the kiss becoming as easy as breathing. her hand moves from under your chin to your face, leaving her fingers and palm spread out along your jaw. your right hand curls around the back of her neck and lightly tugs at the baby hairs at the base of her skull, making jessie pull away breathless

“stay” she whispers against your lips “just so you’ll remember to say goodnight”

you smile against her “i’ll always remember to say goodnight”.

[disasterbuck]

seven sentence sunday

tagged by @sunflower-eddiediaz @firefighterevandiaz @inell 🥰

I've decided to do this a little differently, so I'm going to be sharing one sentence from seven different wips.

I've been really uninspired lately so I haven't really written anything new, but I've tried to choose sentences that are super intriguing! Enjoy!

miscommunication wip

"Maybe this could've been avoided if you weren't a sex addict," Eddie spat.

something wip

"Buck… I don't want just one night," he said quietly, sounding almost afraid as he spoke the words.

meaningless wip

"Just completely… meaningless… sex…" Eddie mumbled against his skin.

clumsy wip

And when he tried to turn and casually walk out of the locker room without making a scene he'd accidentally kicked his bag into the back of Chimney's legs and knocked him onto the floor as well.

crush wip

"It's so good," Chris giggled, covering his mouth with his hands.

surprise kiss wip

"Saved by the bell," Buck joked, then tore out of the bunk room as fast as he could.

in the car wip

"I sort of… I would prefer it if… I mean, I was just thinking it would be really cool if our first kiss was in the kitchen or on the couch."

Tagging:

@dluoser @taketheplanspinitsideways @loudenthusiastic @wallywise @mxrcjqckspnchqsc

@i-am-married-to-my-fandom @therosesaredying @stillfuckingtired @classtrialguru @speggle

@awesome-igi @natnuszsstuff @olliesrants @crazyfangirlallert @delirium1995

@brah3280 @meanceclosetohell @anythingeverythingallofthetime @izzysbeans @sunflower-eddiediaz

@darkrose6578 @veronae-buddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @loveyouanyway @inell

@spicyrottingbrains @gnoeltop @idealuk @donationwayne @lemotmo

@firefighterevandiaz @realpersonwithrealfeelings @superlock-in-the-tardis @mjthe14thdoctor @strxwbereee

@idontknowwhatimdoing777 @ashleigh2658 @mari-lwyd-fannibal-blog @mineyneedsmoney @faithhopeandmisery

@spotsandsocks @unlifeira @tofanasmuse @pirrusstuff @buddiedaydreamer911

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed 💕

[part-time-zombie]

Stay Before I Go

pairings: romantic prinxiety

summary: after sharing a lovely night together, roman is happy to enter romantic bliss with virgil. but are they on the same page?

tags/warnings: fluff, angst, miscommunication, yes they slept together, no i didnt write it out, its heavily implied but never directly stated, sorry i didnt feel like trying to write smut, it did happen just not onscreen, i didnt write anything beyond one kiss scene, logan and patton are here but not for very long, idiots in love

word count: 7103

a/n: I kinda went out of my comfort zone for this one but I think it turned out ok. It's not a smut fic at all, more than anything it just deals with the awkwardness and the "what now" that follows after.

Roman remembers it like it was yesterday. Alright, so technically it did happen yesterday, but the details were still fresh in his mind and will probably be all he thinks about for the rest of the month. It all happened so quickly, so unexpectedly, that for a moment he was convinced he had dreamt the whole thing up. He would have thought that was the case, were he not currently snuggled up to the very real proof of Virgil sleeping beside him.

Yesterday had felt like a blur. A frenzied, excited blur all thanks to an extremely successful date Thomas had just been on with Nico. It was romantic and sweet and oh, so perfect, and Roman had been buzzing from the enthusiasm all day. It seemed that he wasn’t the only one affected by an overwhelming surge of excitement, though, as Virgil was practically vibrating where he stood. At first, Roman almost worried he was suffering from a panic attack, but one look at his face quickly corrected him.

Virgil had a massive smile on his face, his eyeshadow a sparkly purple that shined so brightly in the light that it practically glowed against the faint blush on his cheeks.

He looked positively angelic, and Roman didn’t think twice before enthusiastically pulling him into an impromptu dance as the high from the days romantic success continued to rush through both of their veins, music filling the air with a snap of his fingers.

“Princey, what-“ Virgil started, tensing up and nearly pulling away at first. Nearly.

"Oh, humor me, will you? After a day like today, all I wanna do is dance right now!”

Virgil scoffed, though it was from playful amusement instead of exasperation. A definite improvement from how their conversations used to go. “Whatever, dork.”

Roman gave him a smile as he continued to spin them around the room, infinitely grateful that the others had decided not to show up today. They both had this wonderful moment all to themselves for now.

As the two continued to dance, Roman noticed how Virgil started to relax more and more. His movements became smoother and more natural, eventually dancing in sync with Roman on every beat. His smiles were frequent and genuine, even laughing slightly as Roman lifted him during the bridge of the song.

The sound of that sweet laughter and the sight of Virgil at such ease brought an overwhelming wave of emotion crashing down on Roman. He realized right then just how greatly he cared for Virgil, and how much he wanted to keep seeing him like this.

The song came to an end all too soon, with Roman twirling the two around during the final chorus and dipping Virgil on the last note, wishing this moment would last forever.

Virgil grinned up at him, chuckling lightly at their current position, and Roman allowed himself to act on one last surge of bravado before he’d have a chance to regret it.

He leaned forward and planted a quick kiss to Virgil's cheek before he could think twice.

Virgil froze, face open in shock as he started to go limp in Roman's arms.

Roman quickly pulled him back upright, the joy from earlier swiftly being replaced by doubt and worry. Did he go too far?

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just… “ He started, trailing off as his words failed him. Wow, he really messed this up. What must Virgil think of him now?

“Do that again.”

Now it was Roman's turn to freeze. “I, what?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, cursing to himself under his breath before grabbing Roman's sash and pulling him close with a jerk.

And that was when he kissed him.

It was a chaste kiss, almost featherlight against his lips and over so quickly that Roman almost wasn’t sure if it even happened.

Virgil let him go right after, taking a step back as he stared at him. The eyeshadow beneath his eyes had started to darken slightly, but he didn’t look away.

“Was that alright? Me doing that, I mean,” he asked.

Roman wanted to pinch himself and make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “More than alright,” he said with a smile. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while, actually.”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, trying and failing to hide the blush that had returned to his face. “Good. Me too.”

“So does that mean I can kiss you again?”

Virgil looked back at him with wide eyes before he nodded, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards as he did so.

Roman didn’t need to ask twice. He took a small step forward and met Virgil in the middle, kissing him softly and sweetly and with all the reverence he felt for him, one hand delicately cupping the anxious sides face and the other resting gently on his hip.

Virgil didn’t hold back how he was feeling either. He deepened the kiss in an instant, one hand clutching the back of Roman's shirt while the other grasped at his hair. His breath fell hot and heavy against Roman's lips, his tongue eagerly exploring the inside of his mouth with a hunger that he didn’t know Virgil had in him. He was like an animal, eager to devour him whole. Roman wanted more than anything right now to let him.

Eventually the need for air forced them apart. They were both flushed and breathing heavily, with Roman staring at Virgil in awe though half-lidded eyes.

“Y’know, I would have wanted to do dinner first,” he joked.

The hand on his shirt tightened its hold slightly. “You’re saying you don’t want to take this to the bedroom right now?” Virgil asked.

If Roman was somehow still dreaming, then by God he wasn’t about to wake himself up now. “I wasn’t saying that.”

"Good, I don’t want any time for me to talk myself out of this.”

“Virgil, if you don’t want to do this, we really don’t have to- “

“No, I want to. Believe me, I really do, I just don’t want to give myself a chance to overthink it. I guess what I’m saying is, do you want to?”

Roman nodded all too eagerly. “Of course! I mean, uh, yes. Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

Virgil chuckled at that, and if Roman could focus on anything right now he’d be embarrassed. Virgil pulled him into another kiss, and Roman came back to himself enough to guide them both to his room, holding his hand all the while.

Roman ran the memories over and over in his head, smiling to himself as Virgil continued to sleep beside him. How he was so lucky as to have this morning (and that night) he couldn’t fathom. He must have done something great with his life to have earned this kind of bliss, and he’d have to remember to thank whoever was kind enough to grace him with the heavenly sight beside him.

He turned over, taking in the sight of his favorite emo asleep in his bed. He saw Virgil in a whole new light now, witnessing a side of him that he doubted very many people did. His chest rose and fell evenly, his features softened by the tranquility of uninterrupted rest. He looked ethereal like this, with the sunlight drifting in from the window and surrounding him in an almost divine glow. It was as if an angel were with him right now, his messy hair a halo glowing in the light. Roman couldn’t help but thank God for him to get to see Virgil like this, sleeping peacefully like he had always belonged here with him. As far as Roman was concerned, he does. He had completely opened up his room and his heart to Virgil, and he only hoped he would be kind enough to make a home there with him.

Roman would love more than anything to spend the rest of the day with him like this, both of them sharing this moment together while the world passed them by. Unfortunately, as tempting as the notion was, breakfast was currently a far more pressing matter for him. His stomach growled in protest at the thought, reminding him of just how hungry he had been feeling. Man, he’d really love something to eat right about now.

For a moment he thought of waking Virgil to join him. He could pepper him in kisses and shower him with the mushiest pet names he could think of until Virgil finally kissed him back with that all too endearing smile of his, then they would both head downstairs and make something to eat together, cooking and laughing in the morning light.

Virgil mumbled softly in his sleep, and Roman ultimately decided against waking him. How often does Virgil get to sleep like this, safe from nightmares and monsters under the bed? He knew the dark shadows under his eyes weren’t just the makeup he wore, and despite Virgil being the first to go to bed most nights he was also usually the last one up, presumably from him trying to make the most of whatever fitful sleep he could get. He lost count of the number of times Virgil would shuffle downstairs for breakfast later in the morning, muttering little else than a quiet “had a nightmare” when asked what was wrong.

If he was sleeping this serenely now, Roman would sooner fall on his own sword than take that away from him so soon.

Pressing one last soft kiss to his forehead, Roman quickly slipped out of bed and got dressed as quietly as he could, not wanting to wake him by making too much noise. He slowly opened the door and shut it behind him, ensuring that Virgil remained sound asleep.

Patton was already in the kitchen when Roman finally made it downstairs. It looked like pancakes were on the menu for today, going by the delicious aroma coming from the stovetop. Patton turned as Roman entered the kitchen, giving him a broad smile.

“Hey there, kiddo! How’d you sleep?”

Roman didn’t even try to hide the smile on his face. “Wonderfully, and you?”

“That’s great to hear! I slept pretty good, too. Logan said he’s on the way down, he’ll probably be here in a minute or two.”

Patton then stopped for a moment, eyebrows furrowing. “You haven’t heard from Virgil at all, have you?” he asked, voice dropping almost to a whisper.

Now the smile on Roman’s face disappeared. Shit, could this be about last night?

“What? I mean, why? Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just didn’t really see him all that much last night, and when I went to knock on his door this morning, I didn’t hear anything. Do you think he’s alright?”

Roman let himself look relaxed instead of relieved. “Oh, he’s probably just sleeping in. Yesterday must have been a lot for him, what with Thomas’ date and all.”

It wasn’t technically a lie.

“Yeah, that’s fair. Oh, speaking of, how’d his date go? I mean, I know it went well, but you were there for most of it. What all happened, how was Nico?”

The memories of that afternoon came flooding back to his mind, and as Logan joined the two of them in the kitchen, Roman eagerly recounted the days events.

As his story came to a close and the number of pancakes began to dwindle, Roman remembered Virgil still asleep in his room, that part of the night having been omitted in his retelling. He grabbed a hearty plateful of food before excusing himself, ready to surprise Virgil with a sugary sweet, albeit somewhat late, breakfast in bed.

Only when he opened the door, he found the room completely empty.

The sheets were crumpled on the bed as if tossed aside in a hurry, with one pillow having fallen to the floor as a result. Nothing else in the room was amiss, with everything exactly as it was when he left less than an hour ago.

Except that there was no sign that Virgil was ever there at all.

Trying to ignore the cold pit in his stomach, Roman made his way to Virgil's room and knocked lightly on the door.

Virgil answered the door within a minute, though the door had barely opened enough to even show his face. His hair had yet to be brushed, and he wasn’t wearing his hoodie. Stranger still, his face was hardened and closed off.

“What do you want?” he asked, tone controlled and distant.

Roman struggled to think of something to say, reeling from the whiplash of how Virgil had acted last night compared to now. Did last night even happen? It couldn’t have been a dream; Virgil had stayed over and been there when he woke up. Then why was Virgil acting like this, almost like he regretted it?

“I just, I… are you okay?” he eventually asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, it’s just after last night…” Roman trailed off, still trying to make sense of things. “Did I do something wrong? Can we talk about it?”

Virgil sighed, looking down a moment before staring back at him.

“There isn’t anything to talk about, is there? I get that what happened was just like some one-time thing and nothing else. You don’t need to explain yourself or try to make this into something that it isn’t, okay? It was nice, and thank you for that, but I know better than to think that it meant anything when it didn’t.”

Roman struggled to process what Virgil was saying. If he said he wanted it, that he liked it, why does he want it to end just like that? Didn’t it mean something to him?

“Virgil, I don’t get it. I thought you wanted that with me.”

“I told you, I’m fine with leaving this alone. I can’t say it wasn’t fun, but the point’s already been made. There’s no reason to hammer it home now.”

“What point?”

Virgil screwed his eyes shut before looking away again, like he didn’t want to have to see Roman's face when he spoke. “I mean, the empty bed said it all, didn’t it?”

Oh. That point. It really was just the one night to him. No strings or feelings attached. It meant nothing to him at all. Roman meant nothing to him at all.

“Oh. I guess I’ll leave you alone, then.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Virgil grumbled, still not meeting his eyes.

Roman let him shut the door, walking back to his own empty room in defeat. Just like that it was all over. Over and never happening again. It didn’t mean anything after all.

Virgil felt like kicking himself. Why did he think he’d ever be lucky? Nothing ever worked out for him, what made him think this thing with Roman would? It was nice; hell it was way more than nice, it was the best thing that had ever happened to him, but he should have known better than to think that it could be anything more than what it was.

He ran his hands through his hair as he thought back to how the hell all of this happened. Things were going surprisingly well; the date went without a single incident and actually turned out impressively positive. Virgil was aglow with the excitement all day, and maybe it made him act a little reckless, but Roman didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he looked absolutely thrilled when Virgil acted on impulse and on his own feelings.

Dancing with Roman was as great as Virgil had thought it would be, even if it took him a second to figure out the moves, and when Roman actually went and kissed him like that he figured kissing him back would be a good idea.

Turns out it was a very good idea, going by Roman's reaction. Virgil took a chance and took it further and Roman was all too happy to reciprocate. Things were going exactly how he’d hoped, and when Roman said he wanted this too, Virgil couldn’t help but think in that moment that maybe Roman actually liked him back.

Then he woke up alone.

Why did Roman say he wanted this if he was just going to abandon him in the morning like that? Why bother kissing him at all if it wasn’t going to mean anything later? Roman was always one for romance and grand gestures and all that, so why was last night just over and done with so quickly? Was he just riding the high of the day’s events? Is that all it was to him, just working off steam and moving on?

All he could think to do when he woke up was scramble out of bed, grab his stuff and get out of there before Roman got back. He didn’t want to hear how he overstayed his welcome and to take a hint. Still, if Roman didn’t want him to stick around, he could have just said so.

He should have seen this coming. There was no way Roman felt the same, not even after last night. Virgil didn’t know why, or what he had done so wrong to make Roman reject him even now, but for whatever reason Roman didn’t want things to go any further. He had tried so hard to work with him and to cut back on the name calling and insults, but the damage must have already been done. Roman still didn’t like him, not even after this.

It didn’t make any sense to him when Roman showed up at his door to talk about it afterwards. He had made his point clear enough; he didn’t need to go and spell it out for him so he didn’t get any ideas. Virgil just agreed with him, not wanting to rock the boat by asking why it happened this way. He made it clear that he understood and that he wasn’t going to expect anything more from this and that he was happy with what he got, but Roman only looked confused. Was he expecting a fight? Did he think he’d have to break Virgil’s heart instead of him doing it himself? Is that what he wanted to do?

It didn’t make any sense, but then again Virgil doubted there was any way it could make sense. As great as last night was, he knew better than to think that it would mean anything. It was over, and it wasn’t happening again.

Virgil sighed to himself, opting for a late morning shower to clear his head. Maybe the water will help wash away his memories of last night, and of this morning. In all honesty, he didn’t want to forget it. Not really. Being with Roman was one of the best nights of his life, and he wished more than anything to get the chance to experience something like that again with him. Falling asleep in his arms, kissing him and being kissed by him, it was more than he could have asked for. He turned up the water temperature, desperate to recreate the warmth and comfort he had felt with Roman. As much as he enjoyed last night, he respected Roman's wishes more. If he didn’t want him lingering around where he wasn’t wanted, then Virgil would be fine with that. He’d live off of the memory of soft kisses and lingering touches that he’ll never have again, and he’d not bother Roman about it.

It didn’t mean anything, it’s not his fault he wished it did.

Noon came and went, and Virgil still didn’t feel like leaving his room. If he did, he was bound to run into Roman eventually, and then he’d have to skirt around what happened this morning and tell him that he’s fine with it ending like this. Which would be a total lie, but it would be easier than telling him the truth. Especially when the truth was that he’d give anything to spend another night with him, even if he couldn’t stick around after. He could at least carry the memory of affection with him when he slinked back to his room alone afterwards, this time not staying over.

Of course, there was no way that would happen again. Roman wouldn’t want to talk about it, and Virgil wouldn’t want him to talk about it, so he’d just have to pretend it didn’t mean anything to him. It’ll be fine, it’ll have to be.

A knock at the door made him jump. Was it Roman again, come to tell him to stop moping around over nothing? He didn’t think he was ready to deal with it if it was.

“Hey, Virgil, you doing okay in there, Kiddo?” Patton called out past the door. “I know you’re probably a little wore out after Thomas’ date last night, but I just wanted to check up on you and make sure everything’s alright.”

Virgil sighed before making his way to the door, opening it to see Patton holding a large plate of food with a wide smile on his face.

“I wasn’t sure if you were hungry or not, but since you missed breakfast I figured it’s better safe than sorry,” he said with a smile. “Roman said it was best to probably leave you alone but I was getting kinda worried.”

“You talked to Roman?”

“Well, yeah. He filled me and Logan in on how the date went over breakfast, and he said you were probably sleeping in.” Patton explained. He glanced back down the hall for a moment before continuing. “Say, does he seem a little off to you?”

Virgil tried to keep his voice and tone even. “I don’t know, I haven’t really talked to him all that much today. What do you mean by off?”

Patton's smile slipped a little bit. “I mean, he was all smiles and sunshine this morning, but after he went back upstairs he was just really quiet. I thought he’d be happy about the whole date thing for the rest of the week, but after breakfast he was really gloomy and withdrawn. It just kinda happened out of nowhere, one second he was over the moon, the next he was down in the dumps. I tried talking to him, but he said it was nothing.”

“Maybe it is,” Virgil muttered. It was definitely nothing this morning, wasn’t it?

“I don’t think so,” Patton said. "If it were nothing, he wouldn’t be so upset. Do you think you can talk to him? I know he always goes to you.”

“I don’t think I should,” Virgil started, eager to end this conversation. The last thing Roman needs is Virgil of all people trying to get close to him. That already happened once today and it didn’t end well.

“Well can you at least try, next time you see him?”

Virgil struggled not to grimace. There was no way Patton was letting this go.

“I mean, maybe. It probably isn’t a good idea, though.”

Patton gave him a shrug and a smile before handing him the plate of food.

“Well, either way, we’re all planning on doing another movie night tonight if you wanna join. And if not, that’s fine, but maybe you can still show up for supper if you’re feeling better by then. You won’t bay-leaf the secret ingredient I’m gonna use!”

Virgil fought the smile the threatened to make its way on his face. “Is it bay leaf?”

“Mayyybe,” he mused, a teasing smile matching his sing-song voice.

“Whatever, I’ll be there. No sense in spending all day in here, anyway.”

Patton cheered, hands thrown up in excitement, before pulling Virgil into a quick hug only made awkward by the leftovers he was holding. He gave him one last wave before heading back downstairs, leaving Virgil with a plate full of food and a knot in his stomach that all but guaranteed he wouldn’t be eating any of it.

What the hell did he mean by Roman being upset? It couldn’t be about last night, could it? He didn’t care to stick around afterwards, so why would he be bothered now?

Whatever it is, Virgil hoped it didn’t come back to bite him in the ass over dinner.

Roman was always a glass half full kind of side. He had to be; he was passion, pride, and creativity. If he weren’t optimistic, how could he keep being himself? To him, the glass was always half full, but that’s not how he felt right now. Right now he felt like a glass that used to be full but had just fallen off the table and shattered into a million pieces, with the water now spilled out in every direction and incapable of being recollected.

Yeah, he’s not doing too great. Patton had noticed, because of course he did, but try as he might, he couldn’t make him feel better. Mostly because he didn’t, couldn’t, know what was wrong to begin with.

How could he even begin to explain it? He had finally shared a wonderful night with the dearest person in the world to him, only to get the cold shoulder the morning after. He knew that Virgil wasn’t the best with feelings and vulnerability, and he didn’t want to pressure him into something he wasn’t ready for, but he thought he was ready for this. He initiated, he told him he wanted to, and he definitely enjoyed it. So why did he all but slam the door on him now? What did he do wrong? Why didn’t Virgil like him?

He was being stupid. He usually is, just ask Logan, but he couldn’t help but be confused. Did he think last night would be the start of something beautiful and romantic with Virgil? No, not really. Sure, he would have loved that. He would have done anything to take Virgil out on dates and picnics and dance with him until they both fell on top of each other, laughing until their sides went sore. God, he would love that more than anything in the world, but he wasn’t about to get his hopes up. He was just thinking that maybe Virgil would have been willing to at least talk about where they stood after that, what it meant for their relationship and if anything was going to change.

He wanted to have joined Virgil back in bed and shared pancakes with him as he woke up, glaring at the sun in his eyes. He would have wanted awkward morning-after conversation and cheeky sideways glances while they both pretended they didn’t know the other was looking first. He would have wanted to do more with him, to be more with him.

It looks like Virgil didn’t feel the same, though.

It was fine, really. Virgil wasn’t ready for that, or maybe he didn’t want that at all, and Roman didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by asking for more.

But did it have to hurt so much?

It felt like he was drowning and bleeding out all at once, and with every hour that Virgil stayed in his room, he felt another knife twist at his gut and another weight pulling him down. Did he ruin things between them forever? Will Virgil never talk to him or even look at him again? Had he lost the greatest love he’s ever felt before he even had it?

Just that thought left him spiraling. He had lost him. He had lost…

“Are you alright, Roman?”

Roman looked up from where he was sitting with a start, pulled from his thoughts by Logan as he took a seat near him.

“If I may say, you look dreadful. I thought you’d be happy about Thomas’ successful venture yesterday. Has something happened?”

Roman didn’t know what to say, or if he even should say anything, so he just let himself nod past the stinging in his eyes.

“Is everything alright?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, really. Just dealing with something right now.”

“And what might that be?”

Roman bit the inside of his cheek. How much could he talk about? Virgil probably wouldn’t like him bringing it up with anyone, especially if it was because he was just getting too attached to something that he wasn’t supposed to. Still, if anyone knew what the right move would be in any situation, it would be Logan. Maybe Roman could just leave it vague.

“What do you do when you’re getting along really great with someone that you really like, and then the next time you see them, they act like they wish it didn’t happen?”

“Who might that be?”

“Nobody, it’s just a hypothetical. But what would you do in that situation?”

Logan furrowed his brows a bit as he thought it over. “Well, I personally would talk to the person to see their side of things. If they are upset in any way or if I offended them somehow, I would prefer open communication to allay the confusion and prevent further misunderstandings in the future.”

“Okay, but what if the person doesn’t want to talk about it? Like, really doesn’t?”

“Then you’ve done all you can to fix things. If they aren’t willing to meet you halfway by explaining things, then it is unlikely that the problem can or will ever be fixed. Depending on the person and the severity of the issue, you may want to take this as a sign to stop associating with them entirely if they refuse to communicate with you at all.”

Roman felt a lump form in his throat. Stop talking to Virgil entirely? No inside jokes, no bonding, no late-night chats? Death would be less painful than that. But, is that what Virgil wanted? Does he not want to be around him at all now after what happened? The thought brought tears pricking at his eyes, but if that was what Virgil really wanted, then who would he be to deny him that? So what if it hurt, Roman would die if it pleased him.

“I’m guessing this is about Virgil?”

Roman snapped his head back up to look at him. Going by the expression on Logan's face, him asking was just a nice way of stating the obvious.

“Why’d you think that?”

“I know he was with you during the date, and you both presumably stayed up for some time after. I also noticed that Virgil has not left his room yet, which he only does if he is truly upset about something, and that you have not yet talked about what is troubling you, which is uncharacteristic as you are often very vocal about your miseries.” Logan leaned forward, expression softening. “I admit I don’t know what is going on between you two, but I do know you mean a great deal to him, though he isn’t great at admitting to it. If you aren’t willing to tell me or Patton about it, then you should try to talk to him.”

“But what if he doesn’t wanna talk?”

“I highly doubt that. Odds are he’s just as troubled about this as you are, he just refuses to say so outright.”

Logan gave him a small but encouraging smile, one that Roman found himself returning in spite of his current mood. That’s right, passion and pride don’t give up that easily. The least Roman can do is get a clear explanation out of him, and then he can figure out what to do or how to feel from there. If even after talking it out Virgil didn’t wanna be with him, then at least he’d have an answer and an actual reason to mope.

Now if only he could figure out how to talk to him…

Dinner came all too fast and passed far too slowly. Virgil had come downstairs to eat, but he didn’t do much more than that. Patton tried to pull him into conversation, but all it took was a sideways glance at Roman for him to go quiet again. Logan had noticed and tried to get either of them to talk about something, anything, but to no avail. If only awkward silences didn’t slow time down to a crawl.

Roman has no idea how, but Patton had managed to convince Virgil to stick around for a movie after dinner. He didn’t seem all that hyped about the idea but then again, very little got him visibly excited. Roman didn’t want to think about how happy he looked during their dance, and how he may not see that look from him again.

Everyone settled down on the couch in their onesies as the votes were cast. Well, most of them, as Logan still refused to wear his own onesie. Roman rigged the votes again, this time securing Hercules for tonights film. A personal favorite of his, and one that he knew Virgil at least secretly enjoyed.

The movie played on through the evening, though Roman couldn’t bring himself to focus on most of it. He kept sneaking glances over at Virgil, who was curled up on the other side of the couch with as much distance between him and Roman. Sometimes when he looked over at him, he looked lost in thought. Other times, it looked like he had just tried to not get caught looking at him first. He wondered what Virgil was thinking when that happened.

Logan didn’t hesitate in rising from the couch as the credits rolled, already calling it a night despite it still being fairly early. Maybe he was finally acting on the sleep schedule he had enforced on everyone else, or he just had a lot of work to do and was looking for an excuse to get to it. As he urged Patton to get some rest as well, Roman started to suspect he was just finding an opportunity for Roman and Virgil to talk in private.

Soon enough Patton had gone to bed too, leaving Roman and Virgil alone in an otherwise empty room. Again.

This wasn’t nearly as fun as it was the last time they had spent the night together.

Virgil seemed to agree, as he quickly got up from where he was sitting and prepared to head to bed, not even looking at Roman.

For a moment Roman almost let him go, not wanting to bother him about something he clearly didn’t want to talk about, but he knew that if he didn’t talk about it now, he likely never would. He had to try, at the very least.

“Virgil, before you go, can we talk? Please?” he urged, watching as Virgil stopped in his tracks in response to the words.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked, not yet turning around.

“If you’re alright with that. I just want to make sense of where we are right now.”

Virgil remained where he stood, this time fortunately turning to at least face him.

“I don’t know if we’re really anywhere right now,” he muttered. “I thought last night was just the one-time thing. It didn’t have to mean anything, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Roman replied. He patted the spot beside him on the couch, looking at Virgil with pleading eyes. “That’s kind of what I was wanting to talk about.”

Virgil shifted in place, warring with himself before he finally gave up and took a seat next to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, not really looking at anything.

“So what the hell is this about then? I thought we were clear about this.”

“I don’t think we are,” Roman said. “At least, not yet. I know you want one thing from this, but I want something else. I don’t know if that’s what you want, but I want to at least talk about what we both think this means for us. I want you to be alright with this.”

“I am,” he growled, tone shifting to something cold and controlled. “I told you, it was nice, but it doesn’t need to be anything. I’m fine, I don’t need to talk about it.”

“Well, I do,” Roman insisted. “It doesn’t look like you’re fine, and if something is bothering you, if I’m bothering you, I want to know so I can fix it.”

“It doesn’t matter, okay? You did nothing wrong, I just gotta put this whole thing behind me. It’s not going to happen again, and I’m fine with that.”

“Maybe you are, but I’m not!”

Virgil’s jaw dropped as he finally turned to look at him. “… I, you, what?’

Roman took one of Virgil's hands in his own, wishing he didn’t see how Virgil tensed at the action. A day ago they danced together, and now he flinches at handholding.

“Virgil, please. I know you want to just pretend it didn’t happen, that you probably wish I never so much as kissed you, but I need you to know that I don’t want that.”

Virgil just stared back at him, wide-eyed and confused as Roman pressed on.

“I don’t know what I did to make you avoid me, but the last thing I want is to just carry on like it didn’t happen. I love dancing with you, I love holding you, and I love waking up next to you so much that I don’t know if I can sleep without you by my side again.”

The hand Roman was holding started to tremble as Virgil screwed his eyes shut in confusion. Or fear. Or both.

“But I thought you didn’t want me there. You came to my door to tell me that, right?” Virgil opened his eyes and looked back at him again, a sea of emotion swirling behind them. “Isn’t that what you wanted? For me to leave?”

Roman felt like he had just been slapped in the face. How on earth could Virgil ever think such a thing? What could Roman have done so wrong to convince the owner of his heart that he wasn’t wanted?

“Darling, that’s the last thing I want. You lying next to me was the most wonderful sight I have ever seen, right next to your lovely smile of course. I want to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of our lives, if you’ll allow it.”

“... then why did you leave?”

Now Roman was the one who was confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean if you really mean all of that, then why the hell weren’t you there in the morning? I woke up and you were nowhere to be found. You didn’t wake me, didn’t leave a note, you just left me there to wonder why you left.”

Details of that morning came back into focus, falling into place like puzzle pieces. He must have been gone for nearly an hour over breakfast and Virgil always complained about being a light sleeper, so to wake up alone after that with no explanation…

“Virgil, I don’t know how I didn’t realize… you must have thought that I… you don’t think that I up and abandoned you, do you?”

Virgil stared at him for a moment, processing what Roman had told him. “Well, yeah. I mean, that’s what it looked like to me. What else was I supposed to think?”

Roman couldn’t help but laugh. The whole time, he thought it was something about their relationship, but it was just breakfast? That’s all it was this whole time?

“What the hell is so funny?” Virgil snapped, withdrawing his hand.

“It’s not, it really isn’t,” he started, taking a deep breath to ease his laughter. “It’s just, I had gone downstairs to get some breakfast for the two of us. I didn’t wake you because you just looked so peaceful and I couldn’t bring myself to disturb your sleep. I had a whole plate full of pancakes for you, Virge. I just wanted to let you sleep in.”

Virgil leaned back against the couch, letting the words sink in. “So, this whole time… you were just getting food? That’s it? You didn’t just want to avoid telling me to leave?”

“God no, what kind of coward do you think I am?” Roman answered.

“But I thought, and earlier when you tried to talk… oh my gosh, I’m so stupid!” he exclaimed, covering his face with his hands. “I’m such a fucking dumbass!”

“Hey, if you are then so am I,” Roman offered. “I should have thought to leave a note, or to just bite the bullet and wake you up. Honestly, I ought to have realized you’d think something like that if you woke up alone. I messed up big time on that one.”

“Yeah, maybe a little bit,” he replied, face still hidden behind his hands. “Why did I go and make this into a huge deal when it didn’t need to be?”

“It’s not like you can help it. Just like I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Virgil dropped his hands and looked at him in disbelief. “Please tell me you did not just reference Elvis right now,” he groaned.

“Maybe I did, but don’t worry. There’s plenty of other love songs I plan on bringing up around you.” Roman grinned, only for it to fade quickly. “That is, if you’re alright with that.”

Virgil gave him a small smile in response. “I don’t think I’ll mind. But just so we’re clear here, you do want this to be an actual thing, right? Like, you and me being together, that’s what you want out of this?”

“Of course, more than anything in the whole world. I’d love to take you on our own perfect dates and dance with you all night long if you’ll let me. I would love to be with you every night and every morning. I want to wake up with you for the rest of our lives, and I promise, if you want that with me too, you’ll never wake up alone ever again.”

Virgil smiled again, the same wide smile that made Roman melt inside. “Yeah, I really want that too.” He said, before letting out a low laugh of his own. “And holy shit are we both total fucking idiots.”

“Idiots in love,” Roman countered. “Don’t forget that part.”

Virgil leaned against him, humming thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

Roman smiled again before pulling Virgil in for another kiss, one that would lead to many more down the line, and he was already looking forward to each of them.

@britt-ish123 @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @rougeside4 @nico-the-overlord @can-i-take-a-stab @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie @keitaisghost @new-zee-land

[tys-kitty]

not really a theory per se just me trying to connect stuff as i don't really think it will affect the story much... but we know now that ty's been in love with kit from the start most likely, my guess is that it was love at first sight- mutual to kit.

but ofc ty will always put his siblings above him and i genuinely believe that he thought livvy and kit were in love. not only did cc reveal that he did see the kiss they shared at the beach but also there's a point during qoaad where ty reassures kit not to worry and that they will succeed in bringing livvy back. almost like he was comforting kit?

also, there's a part where ty quotes julian, and says that people start making excuses when they don't wanna do something. and then after the ressurection mess he's angry and calls kit a liar. my guess is that he perfectly heard kit's confession but believed kit to be lying to him. which would also explain (to me atleast) how ty was able to so easily bring himself to beat kit's ass. he must have felt so frustrated and betrayed by kit's confession.

Hello, anon!

So, I‘m not quite sure if we can call KitTy‘s romance „love at first sight“. I think in the basement they were attracted to each other, yes but their feelings developed over time. However, in QOAAD I think their feelings and endearment for each other are quite obvious (to us readers at least *cries in miscommunication*).

And yes. After Livvy died, Ty‘s top priority was bringing her back. Livvy has always been his comfort person, the sibling he trusted most and the one person that would never leave his side. So I wouldn’t necessarily say that he will always put his siblings above Kit - simply because Livvy is his twin sister and he doesn‘t know a life without her. Moreover, we have to consider that Ty most likely didn‘t even understand what his feelings for Kit meant at this point (maybe he would have figured it out if Livvy hadn‘t died).

But yes, I‘m also quite certain that Ty believed Kit was actually in love with Livvy. As you already said he‘s seen their kiss and always tried to reassure Kit that this will work out.

As for the resurrection: I personally think that the whole resurrection scene was a storm of emotions. So when Ty is fighting Kit, it isn‘t necessarily because he thought that Kit lied to him. He just needed to get Livvy back. He was so focused on the ritual and on Livvy that he didn’t even truly register what Kit said (or confessed) to him.

I think at this point Ty would have fought anyone or anything who was standing between him and getting Livvy back.

Thank you so much for your ask! I love answering those (even though it took me ages, I‘m sorry)! <333

[ryanwrites05]

June 20 - discover

@hinnymicrofic

A/N: So uhhh, this was new for me. Another scene I’ve always pictured for them in the summer after the war. I think it would be extremely difficult for both Harry and Ginny to actually talk for a while, which would lead to other issues. I think the vision of Harry dead, on top of everything else, would haunt her quite a bit. She was mentally prepared for the possibility/likelihood of it happening following their DH kiss, but facing the reality (and then him coming back) would make it hard for her to reconcile him being alive.

Content warnings: mature/nsfw themes; referencing (consensual) sexual activity; underage

Under the cut because of the tags:

_____________________________________________

He slept in the Burrow’s attic a lot that first summer after the war, usually when staying at Hogwarts was too much for him. Plus, Ron insisted they be together as much as possible - he supposed months on the run together and everything that happened during the Battle made him want to keep an eye on everyone. He didn’t blame him.

He found out rather quickly that “together” certainly had its limits. For example, he definitely didn’t want to stay together in Ron’s room, what with the sound of Ron and Hermione doing that. No amount of privacy charms could make him forget those noises.

So, the thankfully now ghoul-free attic it was. Which was how he found himself one early July evening, staring out the small half-moon window watching the thunderstorm. The loud bangs of thunder and lightning were less scary than what awaited him once he closed his eyes.

A small noise alerted him and Ginny poked her head inside the room, then upon seeing him, she entered and closed the door softly behind her. They hadn’t talked much, not really. Not about the important stuff he said he would, like horcruxes and pensieve memories. It was still too hard, too guilt-ridden.

She was wearing a soft, oversized Harpies shirt and short cotton shorts, her hair tied up in some loose bun. In a word: beautiful. Captivating would have also been appropriate.

Her face was set, determined, eyes blazing. Whatever she intended, he knew he didn’t stand a chance. She slowly walked over and sat on the bed.

Vaguely realizing he hadn’t said anything yet, he attempted to say something, but she quickly shushed him with a finger to his lips. His skin tingled underneath.

Another flash of lightning lit up her face and he caught the hint of fear and grief behind her eyes. It hurt every time he saw the grief there, knowing his part in it. He reached a hand to hers and she caught it and clung onto it.

“You’re alive,” she breathed softly. A fresh wave of guilt for the things he’d done and still couldn’t talk about washed over him. He rubbed a small circle across her hand with his thumb and nodded.

She gave a brief jerk of her head more in affirmation to herself, and he wasn’t sure she believed him. Her face set again and the determined look was back. “I need you to show me.”

“What?” He asked, utterly confused for a moment. He studied her face, the flicker of nervous uncertainty masked by resolve and a flash of something that looked like desire made her meaning clear. His stomach dropped. What she was suggesting was preposterous, potentially disastrous.

“Show me,” she insisted, bringing his hand to her chest, settling it over her heart. He could feel the beating of it and his stomach calmed, then he felt the swell of her breasts and his mind short-circuited. Her eyes were almost pleading, and he knew there was no miscommunication about what she was implying.

She didn’t wait for him to respond as she snaked her hand around the back of his head and pulled him to her, their lips crashing together. It was the tonic he somehow forgot he lived on.

He’d never quite appreciated just how soft her lips were before, and how wonderful it felt to kiss her. His other hand snaked up to her hair and it took everything he had to not succumb willingly and completely to her.

He begrudgingly broke off to make sure, but her look silenced him.

“Every…,” she sniffed and took a deep breath to try and compose herself, “every time I close my eyes you’re dead. And I…I need to know that this you …the one I can touch…isn’t. I need you to show me, Harry.”

He looked in her eyes, studying the golden flecks in her chocolate brown for any sign of doubt, but found none. He understood it deeply, the need to discern nightmares from reality.

“I’m not…I haven’t,” he took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I’ve never done this before…”

She gave a small smile. “Me either.” She then rested her forehead against his, like she always used to do after a particularly enjoyable snog, and he surrendered.

Their lips were on each other again quickly. Strikes of lightning and thunder continued, masking their first time together. Time full of reverence and proof. Time spent together wholly - to drive away ghosts, to discover who they were now and who they could possibly be again.

[jenyifer]

Wandee Gooday Ep 2 initial reaction

Shush I’m not late to the party. Let’s have some fun regardless. I think the show is cute so far. I like the lead couple and I’m happy it’s not a school based show. I enjoy the Dee being a relatable king. Meanwhile…. Omg don’t know his name… the boxer? Yoryak maybe? He is precious boyo who is a lovely little simp.

Okay photo review time 

Okay but Yoryak seeing this happen. Watching Dee being the boundary setting boy he is. Is so impactful I’m tired of jealous storylines and miscommunication. This series is like things are on smart character mode and I love it. So Yoryak is fully aware of what happened to Dee and he’s RESPECTFUL he tries his best to be there for Dee because he knows Dee is still hurt over Dr. piece of shit.

Um….. am I supposed to be in love with this girl. Cause I’d do anything for her jump in that cow suit. Is Yoryak bisexual cause Dee might have a competitor smart pretty sassy.

Adorable stop thinking about that man pout

I need more Grandma playing guitar to the BL lead content. I like in general that Dee is visiting his grandma in an assisted living home. Very cute. Dee isn’t there because grandma is struggling or some other horrible reason. It’s to have a frank convo about Dee’s parents and past which was perfect.

Ice bear has seen so much. I mean…. He’s really the third in this relationship. He was inbetween them during the spicy scene ep1 like star of the show basically. Then ep2 getting used as a chastity device between the two as Yoryak almost kisses our boy. If that stuffie could talk. 😩 Dee put him on a shelf save him. Plz you are too horny to save his innocence.

Okay I like the role play game that they think they are being so clever about. But seriously what’s the timeline is this every day? Over weeks? Isn’t the championship thing coming up? Idk it’s cute tho

Man Yoryak is so down bad for Dee. Also what better merch selling potential than this necklace I’m surprised I haven’t seen Gmmtv promoting the hell out of it. But seriously 10/10 beautiful scene. Too bad Dee had boundaries but at the same time I’m glad he’s a believable king. Dee has experienced heart ache etc and yeah I support him waiting however Yoryak is such a green flag.

Welcome to a new section I’m calling GMMTV could remove our comment section because it might get moved to Viki. Idk about you guys but the comments and participation is part of the episode so here are some of my faves.

Also Yoryak being a consent king makes me fall in love with him.

[pagegirlintraining]

For the ask game:

♡ SMALL THINGS: pick a fic and I’ll tell you my favorite minor detail from it! (for DTL)

★ what was the scene you most wanted to write in [fic]? what was the hardest scene to write? (for OEAS)

✎ how do you think readers would guess a fic was yours if you posted anonymously?

Also that new profile pic is just rude and I love it.

Oooh, fun. Okay so a minor detail I love about DTL is the fact that I made Petra Mede host it and then got to fangirl when I realized in the middle of the ESC dress rehearsal (which she also hosted irl) that she was the person from my fic 😂 as for a more story related detail, it’s probably that I have Felice referring to Simon as “tiny dancer” at one point. It’s one of my all time favorite songs and fits so well at the same time. I just love sneaking little references like this in there 🥹

What was the scene you most wanted to write in OEAS:

100% the scene where they just got home from Wille’s gig and Wille tells Simon more about Erik and why he loves making music so much. The image of them listening to Wille’s favorite song with Simon curled up to Wille’s chest is what started that whole story. I particularly love how this part turned out:

“That’s beautiful, Wille.”

A huff and a shaky smile were Wille’s immediate reply. “You think so? It doesn’t just sound like a little rich boy trying to be poetic?”

“On second thought…”

That got a more steady, genuine chuckle out of Wille. “I had to go and ruin it, didn’t I?”

Simon joined in with his quiet laughter for a moment, then he shifted his expression back into something more serious and gave a shake of his head. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

And the way Wille’s face softened at that looked so unfairly pretty, and really, who was Simon kidding here? He wanted to kiss him. He wanted nothing more than to kiss him, gently and sweetly and with no ulterior motive but to comfort. To show his appreciation for Wille’s trust, his honesty. To make him feel the things Simon himself was still too stubborn to put into words. So he did.

What was the hardest scene to write for OEAS?

Probably the confrontational scene where Simon wants to finally confess his feelings and doesn’t know Wille has overheard him and Henry the other day.

“I wrote you a song!”

The sudden exclamation was caused by the sheer desperation Simon felt climbing up his insides, but either way, it got Wille to stop. When he slowly turned around, he’d finally taken off his sunglasses. And the look he fixed Simon with out of puffy, red-rimmed eyes was unlike anything he’d ever seen on him. There was sadness there, pain, betrayal. But above all, there was a deep, dizzying anger.

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play here, I really don’t,” he said, voice almost dangerously quiet as he slowly stepped toward Simon. “I get it, I should’ve believed you when you said we were just hooking up, that it didn’t change anything. That’s on me. But this? This is…cruel.”

Miscommunication is surprisingly hard for me to write, mostly because I want to shake them the whole time because they’re being stupid. I mean, come on, Wille! You just need to listen for two minutes and it’ll all be fine🙈

And finally, how do you think readers would guess a fic was yours if you posted anonymously ?

Well first of, anything dance related or using (especially Swedish) song lyrics as plot devices might tip people off 😂 if we’re talking more about style of writing though, I blatantly overuse the word “utterly”. I just love it so much, the sound of it, the gravitas it holds… and now I kinda hate that I’m shining a spotlight on it because I’m a bit scared it’ll feel out of place now. But hey, I’ve already typed all this and it is a really great word so…

Thank you so much for the great ask, Jo 💜 and that whole entire weekend was rude and I loved it so much

Feel free to send me more of these asks, the list is here.

[notebooknonbinary]

hey!! i was looking at your merthur fic recs, and i was wondering if you have any stranger things recs? i like reading longer fics in canonverse a lot, but i dont really have too many preferences hehe, anything you really enjoy, as a fellow mike-appreciator, would be amazing

Oh gosh☺️ making me feel like a fic rec authority. Making my day. Okay! Longer canon-verse with maybe an emphasis on the good-good son Mike Wheeler. (Fair warning, almost all the Mike fics I read are byler centric lol) Many of these fic authors have written multiple wonderful ST fics🥰

One of the first ST fics I ever bookmarked was A Hope to Cling To by midnighteverlark which is slightly canon divergent for the Shed Scene in season two. It’s a fic I return to often because it’s just a very lovely fic. It switches between Mike and Will POV and has five chapters.

@wiseatom just wrote a fic called just gotta call on me, which is a 5+1 fic about phone calls between Mike and Will. It is Very wonderful and takes place from post S2 to post series.

If you feel like crying @andiwriteordie wrote a lovely birthdaygate series called how light carries on endlessly where everyone forgets Will. Very lovely read but Ow it’s got me crying in the club. Post S4 and still ongoing.

paper rings by mogiah is a sweet fic that has a few angst moments. The Party plays the game of ‘where do you see yourself in ten years?’ while briefly trapped in the Upside Down. Mainly byler-centric

I don’t miss the feeling (of being alone) by boygirl is Lucas-centric & Partycule bc I’m a sucker for the main four as a couple and this one is lovely written. It’s so sweet and honestly just aaaa. Post canon and Max is alive ☺️ (ik this isn’t Really Mike centric but since one of the people Lucas likes in this is Mike I feel it qualifies. Also Lucas is 💕)

I’ll be your first, I’ll be your last by agustplz is a very wonderful 5+1 about Mike calling in dedications on the radio for Will.

@buck-yyyy wrote Is Hell Cold? It’s a season 5 speculation fic. It’s lovely, like poetry and I was lucky enough to be among the first to read it☺️ And they’ve got a lotta other wonderful fics to read too!!

I am, ofc, often vocal about my love for @perexcri ‘s writing. I recommend starting with To Hell and Back which is Very Romcom and fun and aaaa. Takes place during S5, Will and Mike get stuck in the Upside Down

reaching for starlight by chainangel is a Mike character study about gender. I Adore this fic So Very much (nonbinary Mike nonbinary Mike nonbinary Mike nonbinary Mi—)

Be the Boy by katbatsupreme, Mike overhears Will talking to Jonathan about his crush. I am a big ol’ sucker for Mike Jealous of Himself fics and this one is Very good🥰

I know the end by bookinit is a largely canon-compliant ST retelling with an emphasis on byler. And tbh Until byler is officially Together As Boyfriends On Screen, no one can tell me these fics aren’t canon. They’re on season 3 right now (Ow my Heart) and updating pretty regularly.

a game of truths by RomeoWrites, the title is pretty self explanatory☺️ very sweet. Goes from Pre-series to post:) Also! This writer wrote the boyfriend problem, where Ted thinks Mike and Will have been dating since pre-S1 very cute and funny

Us against the world by wasabi8000, immediately post-S4, Mike finally puts the pieces together about Will’s feelings. Sweet and a tiny bit angsty with a little bit of miscommunication. A good fic!

I hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this). by blackdeathmamba. A lovely 5+1 fic about Mike kissing Will but Will not realizing why. Miscommunication and lotta kisses:)

I’m sure you’ve already read a dream always the same by @sevensided (sorry to tag u), bc it is The Mike Wheeler centric fic, but just in case you haven’t, it’s an extremely well written, Wonderful fic (as are its’ sequels). Set post-S3.

eyecatcher by smoosnoom, Jealous Mike post-S4 with no angst, just Mike being pouty over girls getting crushes on Will. It’s very funny and cute!

mom I’m gay, wait you are too? By dragons_like_s’mores is sweet and silly and a fun read, and introduced me to a ship that I like but hadn’t thought of before lol. An offhand comment by Mike causes Karen’s lesbian awakening, while in the background Mike simps for Will and maybe learns how to do chores.

This is not an exhaustive list of all my fav fics but if I put All of them down we’d be here literally All Day lol

Also!!

Some of my mutuals/blogs I follow are in the process of fics which I will ofc reblog when they post them🥰🥰 (also friends please please feel free to add to this list, I’m Always in the mood to read ST fic)

[justoneofthoseghosts]

Top 5 Brettsey moments?

Really hard to narrow it down to 5 😅 these are in no particular order:

When they finally get together in 9x16. That whole scene was beautifully shot and was a culmination of almost 2 years of pining and longing. The whole moment just encapsulated it and may have made the angst worth it. I loved it so much.

The scene in 8x16 where Matt goes to find Sylvie after that call where the car fell into the lake. It's a small moment but it's always been one of my favorites because it showcases how much they both lean on each other. Matt seeks her out because he can't get over the call and while she comforts him, he also comforts some of her fears about Julie.

9x12 in general because it showed how much they cared for each other even if they had gone through this cycle of miscommunication and angst.

Matt's confession in 9x15 because he finally used his words and he laid it all out on the line. One of my favorite things was how he didn't expect anything in return by telling her that he just wanted her to know even if it didn't change things for her.

The proposal in 11x22 because I am a clown for life 🤡 I did not know they were going to go there but after 11x18, they left the door wide open for possibilities. I really liked how sure Matt was of himself in the moment and the fact that he chose to propose at the spot where they first kissed, ugh - it was perfect. Okay, it'll be even more perfect once Sylvie says yes.

[ancientevangelions]

I’m glad to hear you like to answer my asks! Sometimes I wonder if I’m bothering too much. But I do love to talk about NGE and hear your opinions

I’ve read your fic and it was so sweet. You can clearly see the characters personalities and flaws even if they live in a peaceful world. It like how they are high school sweethearts and went to therapy so now they can communicate better, though not perfectly. They’re 14 in the original and deprived of any emotional support, so of course there’s be a lot of miscommunication

Is the peaceful au you said you plan to write a prequel to Don't Toy with me Shinji Kun? Or is it a new work entirely? I’m very excited to read Asuka as Shinji’s tutor and their messy teenage years

Would Asuka be bothered that Shinji is bi, and think he’s a wimp because of that? I really don’t think so. Like many things in NGE, Shinji’s sexuality is left open to interpretation, but his many scenes with Kaworu give us a wide margin to imagine that he’s attracted to boys as well, or at least just to Kaworu. What I think would irritate Asuka is not that Shinji likes boys, but that Shinji likes someone else not her, whoever that person happens to be. “If I can't have you all to myself, then I don't want anything from you”.

After she starts realizing she has feelings for him, I doubt she’d like anyone growing closer to Shinji. And Kaworu being so close to Shinji and easy to talk to would unnerve her to no end. Maybe she’d think, “why can’t he talk to me like that?”. And she’d go batshit crazy if she found out about Shinji saying he loved Kaworu, whatever form of love it was supposed to be.

When I sent you that last ask about the love triangle, I was toying in my mind with a peaceful au where Asuka and Shinji have their failed first kiss like in canon, she’s upset with him, and right after that he starts talking more to Karowu as Asuka is maybe avoiding him? I’d love to see Asuka’s real time reaction to Shinji and Kaworu’s closeness and Shinji having to confront his feelings for both of them to finally choose Asuka. I’m sorry, this was too long. But I’d love to hear whatever you have to say about this dynamic!

This is so fun 💙

I grew up in the early 2000s so when I write, I often draw upon the experiences I had growing up. There was a lot of internalized homophobia, lack of sex education and other problems. I didn't know bi was a thing until I was almost 17. I came out as Asexual when I was 18 and figured out my gender identity when I was almost 28.

To me the complexity of human identity is so much fun to explore. Understanding yourself is a lot, for example attraction can be platonic, romantic, sexual, aesthetic, etc. Sorting out those feelings is a lot and even now sometimes I'm unsure of what I feel as an adult. For example: Kaworu and Shinji, is this a crush? Am I in love with you or the idea of you? Are we compatible or not?

I've never seen Asuka as homophobic, just jealous and lonely. As someone who had to learn how to live with jealousy and insecurity, I draw upon that in my writing as well. How do you deal with the person you love getting close to other people? How do you feel if your partner gets different support from others? It's hard to learn how to know which emotions to act on and to let go of insecurity. I think both Asuka and Shinji have a lot of emotional growth to do. Both would benefit from some education on boundaries and relationships too.

As for the last paragraph. I might have an idea…

[shadowsandlint]

HOHO again 🎅❄️

The gnomes at human resources have sent over a quick survey. Just a little something to help tinker and tailor your experience with North Pole Industries.

1. Current TV shows and/or movies?

2. Overall favorite TV shows and/or movies?

3. A show and/or movie you can't stand?

3. Current book?

4. Favorite book?

5. A book you can't stand?

6. Favorite genre of music/ artists?

7. Favorite tropes?

8. Tropes you hate?

9. What's your favorite and least favorite smell?

10. If you were a pizza topping, what would you be?

11. Water, Earth, Fire, or Air?

*this message will self-destruct into glitter*

🦌🛷

💩

🌿🌿🌿🌿📬🏡🌿

Dang it, I'm sorry. I've talked to Blitzen about this. You must have really yummy grass

Oh my god, so many questions! Santa, you're so thorough, let's see if I can answer everything. 😅 I have a severe case of indecisiveness, so there will be lots picks, I think, ehehe

1.Current TV shows and/or movies? Currently watching Brooklyn 99 with my S.O., and Crash Landing on You by myself.

2. Overall favorite TV shows and/or movies? Friends will always have a spot in my heart, as will Sex Education, Doctor Who, SKAM and How I Met Your Mother. Fav movies include the Lord of the Rings-trilogy, Pride and Prejudice (2005), Love Actually, and several Studio Ghibli movies.

3.A show and/or movie you can't stand? Eeeh, I dunno? I'm not that into reality (unless it's drag race), or the kind of humor that relies too heavily on awkwardness.

4.Current book? Juuust started the first Crescent City book! Favorite book? I felt like I changed as a person when I read Patti Smith's Just Kids. It's truly amazing and thought-provoking, and reads like poetry. I'm also very fond of everything Haruki Murakami writes, and the fantastical and surreal elements he brings into everything.

5. A book you can't stand? Nothing really comes to mind, I'm not really a big hater. But I was disappointed when I read Fourth Wing, if that counts.

6.Favorite genre of music/ artists? The music I listen to changes all the time depending on my mood. I might listen to pop, folk, rock and classical music in the same day, or have periods where I almost exclusively listen to a certain thing. Right now I'm very into kpop, and especially Ateez, Stray Kids and Seventeen, but Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan are also heavily on repeat. Among my favorite artists are Taylor Swift, boygenius, David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac and many, many others. Why choose??

7.Favorite tropes? I kinda already answered this, but enemies to lovers and forced proximity are golden. I also love when the black cat / dark and mysterious characters turn soft around their lovers. Delicious! 👌

8.Tropes you hate? Not so fond of miscommunication, and I despise pregnancy/child tropes. I also don't care too much for second chances/right person wrong time.

9.What's your favorite and least favorite smell? I love the smell of lilacs in spring, of grapefruit, salty ocean air, sun-kissed skin, rain on hot earth, and food with lots of garlic and spices. I don't like the smell of hotdogs? Very randomly specific, I know, but I can't think of anything else besides like garbage or rot.

10.If you were a pizza topping, what would you be? Oh, I'd for sure be cheese! Maybe an aged cheddar or parmesan, or a salty blue cheese or feta. Something with a little kick!

11.Water, Earth, Fire, or Air? Earth! 💚

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Aw, you did warn me, but now there's glitter EVERYWHERE!! It looks like a unicorn murder scene in here ☹️

And please ask Blitzen to refrain from dropping, well, droppings in the future. Or at least pick up after himself. Thank YOU!

Okay, byeeee ❤️❤️❤️

[forgave-me-not]

WANT ME AS I WANT YOU ☆ CP10

On a quiet night, you realize all of your sentimentality and unrequited emotion may not have gone to waste. 1.6k words -- fluff/slight miscommunication/kissing -- i'm pretty sure that's it. enjoy!!

Everything is a bit too intimate with Christian. Sure, you've been best friends since you were five and have been living together for a while to save on the outrageous rent prices, but that doesn't negate the fact that things are very... domestic, romantic even.

Not that you mind. You love Christian with every fiber of your being; love him so much that you can't stand to look at him sometimes. You can't help but detest when he has a new girlfriend and talks about her nonstop, and all you can do is pretend to listen happily. But the times in between, the moments he puts his chin on your shoulder as you read at the kitchen counter or he runs to whisper something innocuous to you before a match, have you rethinking the basis of your relationship. 'He's just friendly,' 'We've known each other for so long, he wouldn't.' And yet, you have this gut feeling that he might, just might, like you too.

Things seem to always coincide perfectly to where you will always be together. He's in London for his football career, so your job just has to recommend you to a museum in the same cloudy cityscape (their idea, not yours). He calls it fate. You smile and nod. Whatever happens, happens.

The walk from the station to your shared apartment is neither long nor short; just enough time to sort out your thoughts and save face before you open the door. As you walk up the steps and dig through your bag, looking for your keys, the front door flies open. In front of you stands Christian's most recent lady friend, Victoria.

"Oh, hey, love," she says, clearing her throat. She's definitely been crying, you think to yourself. Eyes bleary, hands nervously wringing her blonde hair.

"Hey, Vic. Is everything alright? Here, come inside with me. It's too late to be standing around like this." You motion for her to turn around, but she sighs and shakes her head.

"No, no, I've gotta run," she says looking at the sky. Sweet girl's trying not to let any more tears fall. "You're too kind, though. Hey, you take care of him — yourself, too. I'll see ya round, I guess." And with that, she gives you a quick hug, zips her jacket to her chin, and rushes down the steps. You're left incredibly confused and slightly saddened by her departure.

The rest of the evening continues as usual. A bath is drawn, and you and Christian prepare dinner together, wash dishes side by side, and then sit on the couch to talk and watch TV.

You don't like to meddle in his romantic life, but he is your best friend, and you've always been too curious for your own good, so you quickly formulate a way to have this conversation.

"Chris," you start with a breath. "It seems to me that you're avoiding telling me why you broke things off with Victoria. I've gathered the how— it was quite easy, honestly; she seemed pretty upset when she bumped into me outside. But... you know I won't judge you, right?" You say this, not looking at him, instead focusing on the scenes of the show the two of you are watching. You make sure to say it gently, to not run him off. Even seventeen years of friendship can't stave off the worst of Christian's shyness.

He smiles and lets out a breath through his nose. "I'm not avoiding anything," he says matter-of-factly. "There's just not much to it. Victoria, she's nice. Like, super nice and sweet. But, she just... wasn't for me." Something in his voice tells you he wants to say more, but you don't press the matter. He looks at you with his big brown eyes as he says the last part, and it takes everything within you not to pounce on him right then and there, lay a thousand little kisses all over his face, and hold him all night long.

You look him over, almost like you're checking for cracks in his façade. "Whatever you say, hon," you tell him wryly. "I'm gonna go to my room now. Night." He quietly says good night and gives you a little wave. You wave back.

There's a faint knock on your door. "Come in, Chris," you call out as you set your book down. He lingers in the doorway, looking torn between whether he wants to come in or not. After a moment of contemplation, he crosses the threshold, wandering to the edge of your bed. You look up at him, waiting for him to speak. His eyes rake over your frame, and you've never seen someone turn red so fast. You're wearing your nice pajamas — a silken tank top and shorts —a gift from your mother years ago. In case you have a special friend over, she had said with a wink. He quickly averts his gaze, turning to look at the posters on your walls. You giggle slightly from his reaction and swing your body to face him.

"What is it, Chris?"

"May I," he asks, pointing to the space beside you.

"Be my guest." Your face is on fire, and you thank God that the moonlight streaming through the windows isn't on you. Christian slides onto the sheets and mirrors you, propping his head on his arm and tucking in his knees. He reaches over and plays with your fingers. He's nervous.

"New nail color?"

"There's no need to stall Christian." I'm right here. "But yeah, new color."

He smiles and takes a deep breath. "Well, I wanted to finish our conversation from earlier. You know, the one where I wasn't very open?"

"Hmm, let's see, the one where you wouldn't tell me the whole truth of why you let sweet Vic walk out like that?" He rolls his eyes and nods. "Yes, that's the one. But you have to promise to not flip or anything when I tell you."

You pause and mull over what he said for a minute, just wanting to make him squirm. "Yeah, alright."

Christian rolls over and stares at the ceiling, still fidgeting with your hand. "So there's this girl, right? And she's lovely. Drop-dead gorgeous, super intelligent. Hard-headed as hell, too."

Your throat tightens a little, but you nod and listen intently as he drones on and on.

"I don't even think she knows how much I think about her, you know? How I feel, how I sleep, and she's the only thing I see in my dreams."

"Christian, stop it" is what you want to say. "I can't handle this. Not tonight." You look at the hand enveloping yours. So delicate, you think. Why must he be so gentle and lovely when he hurts my feelings?

"You have no idea, do you?"

Ever so slowly, you lift your gaze and stare at him. "What are you talking about," you ask quietly. Christian smiles the hardest smile you've seen someone pull off at this hour. His energy is so blinding, in the most positive sense of the word.

"You. I'm talking about you, of course."

And just like that, your world is turned on its head. Maybe it was fate that got the two of you here; every failed relationship because neither of you could stop thinking about the other, the looks that lasted too long and lingered in your mind for days, the way he hugged you that much tighter before he had had to travel for a match.

Christian stops playing with your fingers and takes your face in his hands. You lean into his touch, and a lone tear escapes from the corner of your eye. He breathes in sharply as you chuckle.

"Me? You're really talking about little ole me?"

Your hands find themselves at his wrists. You lean back slightly and kiss his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek, and you could just vomit at the look of pure adoration on his face. For a second, you wished that everyone could be loved like this, a full love, one that transcends time and distance and confusion. But for once in your life, you decide to be selfish, to have something, someone special, and all for yourself.

"I really wanna kiss you right now," he whispers as blush creeps across his face.

"Then do it, Christian," you whisper back at him, your faces so close, your breaths and foreheads have melded into one. And Christian happily obliges.

He tastes like toothpaste and smells like aftershave, and you were so happy you thought you'd keel over and die while you kissed him. The kisses came soft and innocent at first, a sweet collision of lips and tongue before turning into a passionate whirlwind of teeth, spit, and emotion. Kisses that conveyed all the things you both wished you had said, wished you had done. The only reason the two of you finally stop is to fix the strap of your top and laugh about how intense you'd gotten. You lay back and close your eyes, content with where life has placed you. Christian looks down at you for a while, pupils blown, your hand running across your bitten lips. He smiles and descends on top of you, his head in the crook of your neck.

"Can I stay in here for the night," he mumbles.

"You could stay here forever, and I wouldn't mind. Not one bit."