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#im sorry french followers
sodrippy · 11 months
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"i need to learn french i NEED to learn FRENCH" i say to myself as i do a silly little duolingo lesson in japanese
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frenchfrywrites · 2 years
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As a trans man that ask was very weird. Like im not sure why you would ask someone your not close to that type of question? Yea transsexual is mostly used by trans people from older generations to refer to themselves since that was the term at the time. But based on anons ask, they're using it to refer to their attraction to the dude?? Which is weird. Plus even if u remove being trans in the equation, im still not sure why someone would come up to you and tell you out of the blue that they like someone. Cause its essentially going up to a stranger and saying, "there's this person im attracted to." Like what do u do with the info???
Haaaa yeah like I'm a funny lil kinky fanfic writer idk why you'd feel the need ask me about sexualities?? I have a feeling they wanted to tell me bc I'm trans masc and write for trans masc audiences but i don't knowww.
Anyways I agree with you and with what others have been saying too (that it felt fetishy and like the asker doesnt think of trans men as men). And they're def blocked now 👍
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chrisevansonly · 3 months
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𝐉𝐞 𝐓’𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: girls night is always fun for you, and now charles knows you only ever have and will have eyes for him
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slight swearing, very fluffy
𝐚/𝐧: this was a request from a while ago so I just decided to write it now, this fic has no french i have 0 brain power for it, and im so so sorry for takin such a long time to update, things have just been so busy and not amazing lately. anyway, enjoy 🫶🏻
🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀
Charles couldn’t hold back the smile on his face as he held your hip gently, your eyes narrowed at him in suspicion, clearly too many strawberry cocktails had been consumed tonight.
“Oh what’s that look for baby?”
“Don’t call me that. I have a boyfriend” you retaliated, words slurring as he nodded
“Baby, I am your boyfriend cmon, I have to get you home”
Shaking your head you reared back from him, your brain in its drunken state clearly not happy hearing that
“Absolutely not, I’m not going home with anyone, I’m going home with Charles”
Your friends were laughing at this point too, teasing you and poking fun at you, which you didn’t fully understand but Charles was ever the patient boyfriend, part of him slightly proud with your denial to leave the bar with anyone but him.
He had no insecurities in your relationship and he had the utmost trust in you, he just was happy to see you could handle yourself if you needed.
“How about I take you to find Charles then hmm?”
“Find Charles?”
He nodded, taking your hand in his as you reluctantly began to follow him, his arm moving to wrap around your waist as he directed the two of you out of the busy club, and over to his ferrari which was parked across the street.
“I know this car…” you said, letting out a yawn
“You do baby, come on…let’s go”
His voice was soft as he helped you into the car, doing up your seatbelt, holding back yet another laugh at the slight skeptical look in your eyes.
“Ready amour?”
At the sound of this a lazy smile pulls at your lips, thinking of Charles and the special little pet name he calls you
“Hmm Charlie calls me that…”
“He does, he knows it’s your favourite”
“How do you know?”
Smiling he leans down to kiss your forehead, happy to see your eyes slowly starting to close, hoping you’ll get some sleep on the way home.
“I just know amour…”
Just like he had suspected, you’d fallen asleep on the way home, your head resting against the window as he checked on you from time to time. Charles knew you’d either be a little more sober when you got home and recognized him, or he’d sleep in the guest room as he had before, he never wanted to make you uncomfortable if your brain wasn’t sober and you didn’t recognize him, which for the record rarely happened.
When he pulled up the driveway he opted to carry you upstairs, holding you to his chest as you slept soundly, only stirring when your back hit the mattress. Charles watching as your eyes opened and you blinked sleepily.
“Hi…”
“Hi baby…how are you feeling?”
Nodding you rubbed your eyes
“Hmm sleepy…thank you for picking me up”
“You’re welcome, you gave me quite the hard time…”
Groaning you looped your hands around his neck as he leaned over you, a teasing smile on his face
“I’m sorry baby…I swear I don’t mean it..”
“I know amour, if it makes you feel better I find it quite cute when it happens”
You rolled your eyes laughing softly, knowing he just enjoyed seeing you try and fight him off thinking he was just a random guy, it boosted his ego, but in the best way possible.
“How about I get you some comfy clothes and take your makeup off?”
He waited for you to nod before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips
“I love you, even if you forget who I am sometimes”
Hitting his chest gently you smiled
“I love you too…and i’m never drinking again”
Charles laughed shaking his head, knowing you’d very much do this all over again at another girls night in the future, but he didn’t mind at all. Especially when he got to cuddle up next to you every night, knowing he was the one that got to hold your heart in his care.
Even if you did forget who he was from time to time…
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i23kazu · 7 months
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SLEEPY PAPA CUDDLES
characters. neuvillette x gn!reader genre. domestic romantic fluff. an. MORE melusine daddy content. please send help guys i literally cannot stop making daddy neuvi content | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
on the days when some of the melusine get sick, neuvillette wishes he could stay home.
the heartbroken wails of his sick littlest ones pierce his heart – but as chief justice, he rarely gets to take the day off. even after scouring the pages of the fontainian law books, he finds nothing that allows him to take parental leave because his child is sick... because you're a stay at home parent.
(therefore, the responsibility falls onto you to take care of the little ones, as much as neuvillette would like to share it with you.)
early in the morning, you feel some sort of movement within your bed... you sleepily turn to look at neuvillette getting up and walking to your littlest's room.
"it's alright, ma trésor... papa's here." you can hear him attempting to soothe little puca.
puca's cries resound through the halls of the house, neuvillette's quiet shh-shhs soon following. it's not long til you hear the sobs that turn to whimpers, a sweet picture of puca laying her head on your husband's shoulder forming.
it doesn't get better when everyone is awake. iara, puca, and mela are all now down with the same cold puca cried her little lungs out for last night, and all three sweethearts sniffle at the dining table, hot soup freshly ladled out in front of them.
"papa, don't go! please?" iara cries, tugging on neuvillette's sleeve. justice has no time left to waste, and neither does your husband.
"i'm sorry, ma petit ange, but i have to go to work," neuvillette responds remorsefully, picking up iara and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"but i don't want you to go! stay home! i want to stay with you!" iara wails, burying her head in neuvillette's shoulder. he begins to bounce her gently on his hip.
"i'll see all of you tonight, ma chérie. alright? i'll come back early today."
at last, little iara's hands seem to finally let go of neuvillette's shirt, her sobs still wracking her frame.
"come here, sweet girl," you gently hug her from behind, gathering the little melusine in your arms. iara bursts into wails once she hugs you tightly, heart broken over feeling sick and having to say goodbye to papa.
you distract the children while neuvillette slips away to work, undetected. the rest of the day goes somewhat smoothly, with the older ones helping out around the house while the younger ones rest in bed.
by the time the clock says that papa was about to come home, all of the little melusines that lived in your household were all fast asleep, hands softly tucked under the covers.
"i'm home-" neuvillette walks in, setting his work bag down. why was it so quiet? a typical day included a chorus of "welcome home, papa!" and the pitter-pattering of melusine feet padding to the doorway.
"mon cœur! please, calme– i just got the bébés to take a nap," you shush him, cracking open the door to the melusine's room, just a touch.
neuvillette wants to laugh. never in his... centuries? eons? of life, did he ever think he would have evolved to be a man of domesticity.
i know nothing of french all of this was google
reblogs w/ tags & comments appreciated !!!
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @aqualesha (send ask to be added to taglist)
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rintosei · 5 months
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˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ SCARAMOUCHE ; — silly love
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warnings. fluff, gn!reader, modern!au, scara being the little shit he is, bro is clingy btw
notes. HEYYYY IM FINALLY BACK AFTER A MONTH OF NOT POSTING FICS :3 sorry it took so long to release a new fic blame uni
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“so, what's going on between you and scaramouche recently? you guys seem to have gotten close all of a sudden.” one of your friends suddenly asks and you choked on the french fry you were eating, quickly drinking some water.
“what?”
“you heard me.” your friend gives you a knowing smile. “what’s going on between you and scaramouche? last i heard, he hates talking with people and now he’s all sweet and cute with you.”
your face turns red. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about. besides, he’s opening up to more people! it’s not just me he’s talking with.”
your friend hums. “mm, then why is he walking this way with a scowl on his face?”
“what-?” you turned your head and they were right. scaramouche is indeed walking here with a scowl on his face. “scara? what’s wrong-”
“i thought you promised we were going to eat lunch together.” scaramouche cuts you off swiftly, sitting down next to you and placing his tray on the table. your friends could only watch in amusement as you tried to find an excuse to calm scaramouche down.
“w-well, i couldn’t find you when class ended! i didn’t want to sit alone like a loser waiting for you to come.” you said with a nervous laugh at the end. “besides, aren’t you bored eating with me every single day?”
“who said i would get bored of you?” scaramouche replies, grabbing a french fry and eats it. he looks at you with a confused look on his face. “why would i get bored of you?”
“you’re saying that as if you have a crush on me.” you let out a laugh, doubling over, smacking your hand on the table as if you said the funniest thing in the world. when you don’t hear a snarky remark from scaramouche, you stop laughing. your friends whispered to each other and quietly left the table, leaving you and scaramouche alone. “you-”
“i’m going to need you to stop for one second because i just find it so incredibly rude that you think i’m not head over heels in love with your stupid, oblivious ass.” scaramouche glares at you, obviously upset. “are you a brick? because you’re dense as fuck.”
your mouth hangs open, still clearly shocked from the sudden confession. “you- what?! when did you start having a crush on me?”
“do i have to explain in detail why i’m in love with you?” he asks, pushing his tray forward. he places his elbow on the table, his hand supporting his head. “well? are you just going to continue to gape at me or are you going to say anything else?” you instantly snap back into reality, clearing your throat.
“ahem,” you fiddled with your thumbs, nervous. “i thought you were the type to not fall in love with anyone.” you avoided eye contact, looking at everything except scaramouche.
scaramouche raises his eyebrows, obviously amused by your nervousness. “what, am i not allowed to have feelings? am i just a puppet to you?”
“okay who said-” you lift your head only to bump your nose against scaramouche’s. you stopped what you were saying, eyes meeting his. scaramouche’s lips slowly turns into a smile and he eventually lets out a laugh, quickly snapping you back to reality. “stop distracting me!”
“what do you mean?” scaramouche asks in a teasing tone. “i have no idea what you’re talking about. me? distracting you? doesn't sound like me at all!”
“haha fuck you.” you glared at scaramouche, picking up your tray, preparing to leave. “i’m leaving. have fun eating alone.”
“wha-” scaramouche quickly gets up, following you. “hey you haven’t replied whether you like me back or not!”
you turned back, giving him a cheeky smile. “you think?” you winked and turned your back to him, not giving scaramouche a chance to reply.
he scoffs. “this brat.”
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taglist: @kitorin @lazyalani @peachesncats @saesins @beanxiv @auroratumbles @kazumist @alaboadoa @gojoroui @truegoist @maehemthemisfit ♡ (send an ask if you want to be added!)
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valictini · 5 days
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People be like "it's OK to take a break from everything!!" without realising that it's not a break for fans who were following the french ccs. It's a permanent leave.
Like, imagine that your favorite egg(s) and cc(s) left because of mismanagement overnight. Really, imagine it for a second. Your faves don't show up anymore. Quackity doesn't even acknowledge they're gone despite the fault lying on his studio. Imagine having to "take a break" after that. Truly put yourself in our shoes for a second.
You need to realise that right now, "Taking a break" feels more like "accepting that we're being kicked out without a word"
It is. Deeply. Deeply. Frustrating. Especially since the problems in question were consistently pointed out by fans and ccs.
Also, for the record, I DID try to take a break. And then literally the next day Pomme's and Dapper's admins left. So yeah I'm done waiting. I want solutions to the problems we've been screaming about for months.
If not for us, then at least for the rest of you.
Sorry if you think im being impatient. That i don't give Quackity enough grace. But the problem with the integration of the french community started day one. It's normal for us fans to assume the best, to assume that surely, those were just one-off errors and that they were being resolved behind the scene. But it's not normal for Quackity to do the same.
How tf did Quackity let it slide for so long without investigating the cause? Did he even notice/care that we were consistently left out? How did he not know that Lumi was the only french admin on the team? Why did he seemingly not talk to any of the admins in private even ONCE in an entire year ?
Say what you want, that he's young, that he's overwhelmed, that he never managed such a big team, that he blindly trusted the management he put in place, all that is true... but that doesn't erase the fact that he himself took these risks. It's his own fault for creating such an ambitious server without the necessary skills to oversee every aspect of it. And im sorry if his mental health takes a toll because of this situation but it is NOT hate to point these facts out.
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etherealyoungk · 6 months
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comfort and love - hoshi
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pairing: hoshi x fem!reader
warnings: reader has their period, fluff
word count: 1.1k
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when you wake up feeling icky and your stomach lightly paining, you internally groan because you know your period started. you change and go back to sleep, only to wake up a few hours later to your doorbell ringing and you wake up sleepy and dazed. when you open the door to a smiling hoshi. your heart sinks because you forget to tell him you couldn't make it to the date he had planned. and here he was at your doorstep.
"shit, hoshi im sorry", you mumble out as you make way for him to enter. he looks at you confused. "why are you saying sorry baby", he asks and then he realizes you're still in your pyjamas and you look tired. "i got my period so i don't think out date can still happen", you tell softly. his gaze softens with understanding. "that's okay. i can still be here and spend time with you. i'll take care of you", he says with a newfound passion and before you know it, he's guiding you back to the bedroom and making you lie down.
periods are a little bit of uncharted territory for hoshi, but it's nothing a little research can't fix. so after quickly searching for what to do when someone is on their period he's coming to your room but you're curled up in a ball and he's running to your side.
"baby? are you okay?", he asks worried. "i'll make you a hot water bottle wait", he says and he rushes off to the kitchen. a few minutes later he's bringing you the hot water bottle and gently placing it on your stomach. you gladly take it and mumble out a small thank you to hoshi who's sitting on the edge of the bed. "have you eaten?', he says, looking at the time. you shake your head weakly. "not hungry", you tell and he's now even more worried. should he get you some chocolate? icecream? some snacks?. he decides to at least bring you a glass of water for you to sip on.
"you don't have to stay, i can manage", you tell him but he denies, telling you he's gonna take care of you. you try to lie down and rest, but the cramps only get worse. you open your eyes and don't see hoshi in the room. you weakly call out for him and he comes running, skidding across the floor in the process. "what's wrong?", he asks, concern flashing across his face but the tears brimming in your eyes are all the answers he needs. he wastes no time in coming by your side and gently engulfing you in his arms. you lean into his warmth and snuggle into his arms as you rest your head on his chest. he lightly rubs your back in hopes it will somewhat help ease the pain. but the way you were occasionally gripping his shirt told him you were still in pain and he hated in so much. he wished he could take your pain instead.
when you finally fall asleep, he gently tucks you in bed and decides to make a quick run to the convenience store to get you some snacks. you stir awake from your sleep and realize hoshi isn't next to you. you hear noises coming from outside and the smell of something in sweet in the air. you get up and waddle out of the room to the kitchen to find hoshi in front of the stove. "babe?", you call out and he turns around, smiling when he sees you. "you're awake?", he asks and he removes something from the pan and puts it on a plate.
"i made you some french toast, i know you like it so i tried following a recipe", he says in one breath, grinning as he presents the plate to you, guiding you to sit down and take a seat at the dining table. the other half of the table is covered in snacks of all kinds. you look at hoshi. "i thought you might want to snack or eat something sweet? i read up about period cravings but i didn't know what you'd like so i got some of your favorite stuff and things i thought you might like", he explains. you look at him and pout. you could cry right now. '"hoshi", you tell and he thinks maybe he's done something wrong. "what's wrong? did i not bring the right snack? did i forget something?", he asks, a lopsided pout forming on his face. you shake your head.
"you're so sweet, this is all so sweet", you finally tell and the tension disappears from his shoulders. he watches as you eat the french toast he made, happy.
if you told him you were feeling cold, he's drowning you in blankets. hungry? ready to order food or make you something again. thirsty? aksing you if you wanted water or an other drink, the phone in his hand ready to order whatever you wanted. want ice cream? he's ready to buy all the flavors.
but then later when it's afternoon he can tell your mood is a bit off and he's confused. (he's a little clueless about how the mood swings work sjjgg) so when he comes over to cuddle you when you are watching something you move away telling him you don't want to cuddle right now. he's shocked. how could you not want his cuddles? poor boy will be next to you and just be all pouty and glance over at you.
after a while, you feel find yourself scooting closer to hoshi and linking your arm around his as you lean your head on his arm. he's over the moon from this small action and pecks the top of your head, happy.
he'd sit on the counter as you watched him make ramen for you for dinner, even though you said you were feeling a little better now and could do it yourself. he'll order ice cream and watch as you eat, happy to indulge you in whatever you want.
he'll stay over that night, mostly he didn't want to leave you in pain and because you asked him to stay. if the cramps bothered you in the middle of the night, and you woke up in pain, he'd take care of you and do his best to help alleviate the pain. you're grateful he stayed as you slowly fall back asleep in his arms, his presence comforting and warm.
taglist: @idubiluv @icyminghao @kyeomyun @joshuaahong @daisycheols @fallingforshua29
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sungbeam · 8 months
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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 :'))
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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."
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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 !!
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roseykat · 2 months
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TITLE: Play Night
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SUMMARY: Things between Jisung and Hyunjin are heating up, and leading towards their group trip to Jeju, Jisung needs to clear a few things up with Chan; about you and him and the current secret bet in place that he unintentionally started.
TAGS: smut, handjobs, orgasms, kissing, making out, hickies, soft/fluff/slice of life moments, swearing, slight confrontation (nothing toxic), use of alcohol (Hyunjin is slightly drunk but what takes place after is consensual), some Harry Potter spoilers/references (sorry if you haven't watched HP)?
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.
MASTERLIST - PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4
🏷️LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @princejisung @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @dawn-iscozy @valibals @oiikaro @im-sinking-in-mud @aalexyuuuhm @baby-yongbok @1dk-anym0r3 @wealwayskeepfighting @flowersun @huening-kawaii @newhope8 @leftkittenface @20minsat180degrees @itsthatbri 🩷
“Oh, now this - what about this one?” 
Hyunjin hears Jisung’s voice from the aisle beside him where all the cold drinks are located. He himself had been scanning vigorously among the shelves for his favourite brand of ramen, only to come up short. They had been to four convenience stores prior and not one had what he was looking for. It landed them a trip further away than they had expected, but neither of them complained about wandering around far from where they were supposed to be.
After he straightens up and peeks his head over the snacks to see what Jisung was talking about, he shakes his head solemnly. 
“No. No, that one's grape flavoured and it tastes like children’s medicine,” he says to him. 
Jisung looks down at the purple can in his possession, “that’s oddly specific - oh, then what about orange-“
“Same thing.”
Jisung huffs and gives up, placing the can back where he found it in a disgruntled fashion, “you’re an easy man to please you know, but the minute it comes to food you’re so picky.” 
Hyunjin strolls around to meet Jisung on the other side after filling his basket with snacks that had caught his eye and wanted to eat during their movie night, “drinks aren’t food.” 
“Then what’s soup? A drink or a food?” He fires back.
“Not this again,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes and closes the fridge for Jisung who follows behind closely. 
They’ve been debating about this for a while now which started off as a very contentious pillow talk topic that now crops up frequently. Of course, they wouldn’t be themselves if they didn’t have opposing opinions. Jisung, who thinks that soup is absolutely a drink, has been pushing that agenda ever since the night he tried to cook French onion soup to impress Hyunjin.
Only, it wasn’t that impressive, and was rather just a slurry of tasteless onion water and zero seasoning. In order to not upset his friend for trying his hardest, Hyunjin did his best to stomach the interesting creation and honestly hoped that he never tried again.
“It’s an important question!” Jisung begins to protest, ready with an army of rebuttals and arguments. 
“Soup is a liquid food. That doesn’t mean to say it’s a drink, because you can eat soup. Plus, some soups have chunks of food in it too.” 
“That’s just vegetable water or meat water.”
“Meat water,” Hyunjin repeats in a disgusted tone. “So you’re also saying that plain water is soup too?”
“Well, if you heat it up-“
“Okay,” Hyunjin interrupts as he dumps all their items onto the counter and takes out his wallet to pay. “Stop talking.”
“Make me,” he mouths and teases quietly so that the cashier couldn’t hear him. “If you stuff my mouth with something big then it might get me to stop talking.” 
Hyunjin rolls his eyes, again. 
Nearly every waking moment that he’s around Jisung, there’s always a guarantee that he’ll make Hyunjin’s eyes roll; whether it’s because of some weird shit that comes out of his mouth, or whether it’s giving him an orgasm. Whatever the reason, Hyunjin pretends to ignore him as he collects his goods, then heads out with his best friend at his side. 
The entire commute back to his apartment, Jisung kept talking. On and on, and on about an assortment of subjects that Hyunjin had no interest in. At least not now. Not when all he wanted to do was go home, not speak, and just laze around with Jisung like he has been for the past few weeks. That thought seems to trigger a very sobering realisation that dawns on him as they ride the train back to his place.
As Hyunjin looks at the side of Jisung’s face who’s been rambling on about his opinion on the best types of pasta, he realises that they’ve been hooking up for the past few weeks. They kiss, make out, do other things, but not once have they had sex. Yet. They haven’t even talked about it, and yet, a part of Hyunjin had to wonder; was there any point in even talking let alone thinking about it if whatever is going on between them, isn’t going to last? 
His eyebrows knit together. He doesn’t want to think about that. Hyunjin doesn’t know whatever feelings Jisung has right now, but the one thing he knows is that he likes the sense of comfort that hanging around him brings. What if he asks and disrupts what they have? What if he asks and ruins Jisung’s thoughts on him?
As those questions infiltrate his psyche, his head lowers and comes to rest on Jisung’s shoulder, eyelids closing softly, “wake me up when we get to our stop please.” 
Jisung’s big brown eyes turn into the size of plates, a little bit taken aback that Hyunjin, a person who isn’t that huge on public displays of affection, is resting on him right now. Not to mention the privileged feeling that inflates Jisung whenever a person rests their head on his shoulder, which is very rare. It’s like some physical way of saying that Hyunjin trusts him, or feels comfortable around him at the very least. 
He scans up and down the cart where no members of the public come into his view. Grateful for their absence, Jisung feels safe by reciprocating the same affections. So he places his hand on Hyunjin’s upper thigh, and he too rests his head against his friends’.
For the next five minutes, Jisung and Hyunjin would ride the train back to his place in peace. Neither of them spoke a word until they reached their stop. The pair of them hop up, Hyunjin stands and stretches his long limbs as he and his friend head inside the apartment complex. 
Once they return to his place, Hyunjin prepares all the snacks for them on his coffee table, while Jisung gets the movie ready that they - he - wanted to watch.
“Harry Potter? Again?” Hyunjin groans, taking the plastic wrap off of the kimbap to share and setting it down on the surface once they’ve both sunken down onto the couch. 
“What do you mean ‘again’?” Jisung shoots him a dirty look. He’s always been pretty serious about his Harry Potter, having watched the movies over a thousand times and read the books back to back. “This is the next part of the series, thank you.” 
Hyunjin sighs and makes himself comfortable. He then heads to his fridge to grab a couple of bottles of soju and some shot glasses. Back at the convenience store, he meant to buy something non alcoholic, had he not been so picky about the flavours Jisung presented to him he wouldn’t be deciding on whether he should have alcohol or not. In saying that, it was nice to have a drink.
He strolls back to the coffee table with their final items and places them all down.
"Oh, yum," Jisung gasps and reaches for the bottle, unscrews the cap and starts pouring the clear liquid into both shot glasses already.
Hyunjin stares at him as he downs the alcohol in one smooth go, "alright then..."
Jisung holds up the other shot glass for Hyunjin, "your turn."
He takes it in hand, careful not to spill it on the rug beneath him - then again, it's seen a lot more messier liquids on it than alcohol.
"Yuck," Hyunjin retches after swallowing half of the contents in the glass.
"Come on, you know you like it," Jisung nudges him. "You know the saying; if you can handle cum, you can handle alcohol."
Hyunjin nearly sprays out the rest of the alcohol from his mouth as a muddle of amusement, concern, and curiosity wakes him up more than the semi-burn of the drink does, "and who said that exactly?"
"Me," he answers. "Hence why I can take both so well."
Like some of the time, Jisung wasn't wrong and summed it up with another shot before he picked up the remote to play the movie. He settles back comfortably while Hyunjin takes another shot of the soju.
He makes it through the first twenty minutes of the film, then reaches the part where Harry Potter suddenly gets selected for the Triwizard Tournament. By that point, Hyunjin was sure the alcohol had fully trickled into his bloodstream when he wasn't able to tell the difference between Mad Eye Moody and Hagrid.
Frames started to blend together and yet, he thought it was still a good idea to continue drinking to see if that would help. However, most good idea turn to bad ones. The alcohol began to play absolutely no part in trying to help him make sense of the plot and made him focus on other things rather than the movie.
It was safe to say that he grew steadily bored when it came to watching it. At the same time, he didn't have the heart in him to express his opinion to the person beside him who was so wrapped up in the universe on screen. Jisung's eyes were completely glued to the digital motions before him whereas Hyunjin's eyes were glued to him.
Boredom strikes him bad when he feels the need to lean over and make his long body comfortable on Jisung. Hyunjin's upper torso stretches over his friend's lap who doesn't pay too much mind to it. Jisung even hangs his arms over Hyunjin's abdomen while he watches the film contently.
It's not the type of physical contact he wants right now.
"Jisungie," he mutters into the couch.
"Hmm?"
"Can we do something else?" Hyunjin pleads rather than asks.
He never gets a response. The lounge continues to be filled with dialogue - something along the lines of Ron Weasly now having a go at Harry for being inducted into the tournament and not telling him. Hyunjin's had enough of it and for whatever reason he feels like, he slides off of Jisung's lap. Half of his body slumps onto the ground while the other half remains somewhat on the couch.
"What are you doing?" he snorts, grabbing onto Hyunjin's hands and trying to hoist him back up.
He awkwardly anchors his legs around Jisung's body in an effort to help pull himself up as well but ends up knocking his head on the edge of the coffee table. With a delayed reaction, Hyunjin winces and then laughs as he tries to rub his own head even while Jisung is still trying to save him from falling off completely.
"Here just - just stop moving so I can help," he leans back and uses all his arm strength to move what is practically dead weight to him.
Hyunjin puts in zero effort to help and instead becomes a giggling mess the second he's actually able to get back into Jisung's lap. When he does, his long limp limbs wrap themselves around the man beneath him. He hides his face in the crook of his neck, the sudden whiff of Jisung's skin almost makes him dizzy, making his mood do a complete one eighty degree turn.
It creates immense difficulty in trying to swallow the urge to plant a kiss over the soft area, earning a very quiet yet distinct hum from Jisung. Hyunjin repeats the same action, longer this time and in different spots that his tongue can swipe over. The grip Hyunjin barely knew was there on his hips, twitched in place. As if Jisung's nails are trying to dig into Hyunjin's flesh had he not worn clothes.
"Hey," Jisung alerts him. “Can’t watch the movie if all you’re trying to do is get on my dick- ah…”
Hyunjin’s mouth shuts his right up from one sharp suck into his skin. His tongue flattens over the fresh red plum mark. The sight of it alone makes Hyunjin want to decorate them over every inch of Jisung’s body, similar to the style of how he would paint a canvas - which he does. Over as much skin as Jisung lets him when he moves his head to allow Hyunjin to cover more skin.
“Y-You’ll…you’ll get me hard,” he warns, now unable to concentrate on the film.
Hyunjin pulls away from his neck, giving him a rest from the myriad of hickies he’ll have to worry about later, and looks him down in the eye, “that’s sort of the point.”
Their mouths draw together like magnets, like they’ve been doing for weeks. Every day they find their lips on the others or some body party of theirs. Jisung gets to relish and dawn in the softness of Hyunjin’s lips, letting him slip past further to explore his mouth. His needs not only start to show through in his pants, but in his breathing and frantic pace of trying to feel Jisung that he almost can’t keep up with him.
So he decides that he needs to contain him a bit, bring him down a few notches to reminds him that he’s not in charge - at least for now.
With that, Jisung wraps his hand right around Hyunjin’s waist and manoeuvres him onto his back. The abrupt shift in control makes him act up almost instantly. Hyunjin is grabbing at Jisung’s shirt trying pull his body back down to his, but his muscles are weak and tired from drinking that it makes it too easy for Jisung to straddle his hips and pin his hands to the side of his head.
“Look what you’ve done to yourself,” he tells Hyunjin right in his ear while he rolls his ass down over the dick that's hardening underneath him. "Gonna be fucking begging when I'm through with you."
At that point, the pair had gone beyond the fact of not completing a full movie night. With the way that Jisung continues to pin Hyunjin back and exchange the manifold of hickies across the planes of his throat and neck. If anyone walked into the apartment, they would’ve thought vampires truly existed with the way Jisung’s mouth was latched onto his best friend’s skin.
“T-The movie,” Hyunjin stammers hopelessly with his words. “Jisung…the movie…”
Jisung lets out a sinister chuckle as he pushes himself back up to take off his shirt and tosses it somewhere around the lounge, "fuck the movie. You started this. This is what you wanted, isn't it? To rile me up and now you've gone all shy on me."
Hyunjin doesn't listen. His first instinct is to reach out and grab Jisung’s waist, to caress his hand freely for a few moments before gliding down and grasping the flesh over his hips. The slight sting in it makes him buck his hips forward and over Hyunjin’s clothed cock, making him groan lowly. He could cum easily like this - so easily and has done.
Every position they get into to practically dry hump each other, he always imagines that this is what it would be like if Jisung was riding his throbbing cock. To cum inside him and watch his face contorts the way that it does whenever Hyunjin makes him orgasm.
That thought sparks a wire in his brain, causing him to suddenly jerk his hips up and into Jisung. He smirks down at him, soaking up the state of the man beneath him. The hickies, red and wet kissable lips, dozy eyes that slowly blink up at him…
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Jisung mutters in exasperation like he's never seen Hyunjin's body before. “Just wanna f-”
Blaring on the coffee table next to all of the opened snacks was Jisung’s phone, he quickly bends over to the side to reach for it in urgency while still trying to straddle. Hyunjin twists his body carefully with Jisung still on top, picking the remote off the floor that had fallen after being pinned back. He pauses the movie for a moment to let Jisung answer his call. 
A small weight sinks in his stomach as he speaks in shock, “it’s Chan."
"M-Maybe you should answer it," Hyunjin tries his best to talk over the exponential rate of how much he is turned on right now.
“Hello?” He answers.
“Jisung! Do you not answer your texts? I sent about six just before!”
He pulls his phone away from his ear and checks his notifications. His friend was right, Jisung had in fact missed his messages. But not on purpose of course. If he hadn't been so busy provoking Hyunjin whose hands started sliding up Jisung’s thighs, dangerously close to his tented crotch, he would've seen the texts.
Hyunjin's fingertips delicately trace over where Jisung's cock begins to harden. His eyebrows furrow immediately as Chan continues speaking on the other end of the line about how he’s still surprised that Jisung didn’t answer him right away. 
“You’re always on your phone, I thought you might’ve been quick to respond,” says Chan.
“Oh, yeah not this time,” he responds truthfully, to some degree. “I’ve been watching Harry Potter all evening and-“
The words ready to leave Jisung's mouth die before they make it out as Hyunjin mischievously, and very clearly, starts to palm Jisung’s hard length over his pants. It didn’t take him that long to start leaking from his tip, creating a very visible dark patch over his shorts.
“…and-“
Hyunjin then reaches into the slot of the material, past his boxers and frees his cock. For a few moments, he takes away his hand just to admire how Jisung looks right now. The fact that he tried to finish what Hyunjin started, only to have the tables turned on him again. He flushes with embarrassment at the fact that without Hyunjin’s grasp around his length, his dick was able to stand tall on its own; so needy and desperate for touch. 
“And what?” Chan’s voice suddenly startles him out of his situation.
“And I just lost track of time, that’s all,” Jisung continues as calmly as he can.
“No worries. I haven’t watched Harry Potter in years. I think the last might’ve been Prisoner of Azkaban? No, Goblet of Fire? It was the one where…”
Chan’s voice drifts out of Jisung’s mind despite the fact that he’s right in his ear on the other line. His face contorts at the sudden pleasure he receives as Hyunjin takes hold of his neglected cock once more. His eyes dart sharply down to his own length and the large hand which begins to slowly tug. 
“…he gets chosen for the tournament when he really didn’t put his name into the cup…”
Jisung brings a shaky hand to his mouth, covering it immediately so as to mask and muffle something that could end up as a future regret. Hyunjin knows all too well what sort of sounds can come out of that mouth of his too, for it has reverberated around the walls of his apartment, stifled into his pillows, caught in the back of his throat which usually serves as a path for Hyunjin’s cum these days.
He’s heard it all before. 
For Jisung to keep a lid on all of those possibilities is a smart move, especially if they want to uphold the secrecy of their situation.  
“…and I’m pretty sure it’s the one where Cedric dies.” 
“Y-Yeah,” he responds shakily. “That’s the one we - I’m watching at the moment.”
“Maybe I should rewatch the first two,” Chan suggests to himself. “It’s the only series I can actually watch and understand without it being too complicated. I tried watching Lord of the Rings before but it’s too…”
Once more, Chan’s voice becomes a distant sound as Jisung tries to stop himself from bucking his hips into Hyunjin’s hand. But it’s not possible. He can’t just ignore the fact that he’s been horny since Hyunjin made him all hot and bothered, and now he’s built up to maximum capacity where his body craves release.  
“So what time suits you?” Chan asks randomly.
“Time for what?” Jisung responds back in confusion, his mind blending together like mush when Hyunjin has gotten into a steady pace.” 
“To hang out tomorrow!” 
“Oh, right! Ah - um, lunchtime? Twelve…” He suggests, his hips still rutting.
“Alright sounds good. I’ll see you there okay?” Chan asks.
“I’m cumming - I mean, I-I’ll come! I’ll be coming - going there,” Jisung stammers terribly with his words. “F-Fuck sorry, just…I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
Chan laughs on the other end of the line, “see you then.” 
Jisung has never hung up faster, the phone toppling out of his possession as he rocks his hips into Hyunjin’s grasp. It also gave him the ability to rut his ass against Hyunjin’s hard length below him. Then within a split second, the lid that Jisung was trying so hard to contain over what his body needed to do, came off.
“Fuck, gonna cum, m’cumming!” He cries out. 
Hyunjin grins, and does not dare let up on his hand twisting and gliding on the length currently in his power, “I heard you the first time. How humiliating would that have been for you if Chan realised you were getting a handjob. Too bad he can't hear you whining so pathetically-“
Air hitches in Jisung’s throat, and for a few seconds too long Hyunjin looks into his eyes and sees tears welling up. A terrible, cold sinking feeling expands in his stomach, making him realise that he just said something awful to Jisung. 
“W-Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t-
It was too late. Loud moans rupture violently through Jisung’s chest - ones that Hyunjin knows his neighbours are familiar with by now because by no means is Han Jisung quiet. He will let Hyunjin know how he’s making his body feel now explodes from immense pressure. 
His rutting against Hyunjin’s cock becomes staggered as a result of trying to chase his orgasm. Jisung clutches onto Hyunjin’s shirt, the fabric balling up tightly along with his fist. He can’t stop, he doesn’t want to stop, until eventually that buildup releases erratically in flows of white that spill over his tip and dribble down Hyunjin’s hand. Jisung had never cum that hard from a handjob before. 
He finishes gasping for air when he starts coming down, slowly rocking his ass over Hyunjin’s crotch to ease himself off the euphoria. Beneath him is a different story. 
Hyunjin was mortified for making him cry, so shocked that he was frozen and couldn’t take his hand off of Jisung’s dick. But that didn’t matter. Jisung had the intention of finishing what he started, to feel so good that all his problems melted away. 
Hyunjin sits up immediately, so close to Jisung’s face as he needs to check in with his friend, “are you okay? I’m so, so sorry, I don’t even know why I said that. It just...it just came out of my mouth.” 
He wipes his eyes after a couple of tears fell down his face in the process of dry riding Hyunjin. Part of what just happened makes him laugh breathily and nods, “yeah. I’m okay.”
“Jisung, I’m really, really sorry,” he quickly says and means it, trying to look him in the eye.
“No, oh my god don’t be sorry,” he assures him. “I’m fine, seriously.”   
“Then…then why are you crying?” Hyunjin asks the million dollar question, still acting out of horror. 
He gives a lazy shrug, “I dunno how to explain it properly, but I like that kind of talk. It just…yeah. I’m not too sure. I suppose I teared up because I haven't actually cum that hard before.” 
“I…didn’t know you were into…that,” Hyunjin doesn’t know how to reply to that type of statement, now that he just found out his friend likes being humiliated. Out of all things Jisung would be into, it had to be that.
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know,” he replies, leaning over to the coffee table just a bit to pick up the box of tissues to clean Hyunjin’s hand. 
“W-What did Chan want?” He asks even though he doesn't want to stray away from the topic to make sure his friend is still okay.
Jisung slides off of his body and in between his legs rather awkwardly. From this stance, it’s easy to see the large tent in Hyunjin’s pants that he was grinding on as he made himself comfortable. He smooths the palm of his hand over Hyunjin's hard length and slowly back down. In doing so forces a couple of strained sighs out of his mouth. 
“Wants to hang out tomorrow,” he answers, reaching into Hyunjin’s shorts to feel his hard cock. The same cock that keeps him coming back, that makes him feel heated and irrational. 
In Jisung’s opinion, anyone would be lucky to have someone like his friend in front of him. Even though they haven’t had sex, he knows how Hyunjin fucks, having seen the way he made you cum weeks ago - it only makes Jisung wonder what it would be like to actually cum around Hyunjin’s cock. 
It’s what he wants, needs in fact whenever they’re together.
Hyunjin bites his lip and throws his head down onto the couch, “y-you going to?” 
“Course I am,” Jisung replies, thumbing over the dark pink tip that leaks clear glossy precum. “Need to ask him about Y/N and what the situation is there.” 
A dreadful ball of weight pummels Hyunjin from behind when he hears your name in the same sentence as ‘Chan’. Not to mention, as Jisung said, your ‘situation’ with him currently which Hyunjin doesn’t want to process. He likes being oblivious to the fact that Chan is sleeping with you. That he gets to fill you up, that he just gets to see you. Whether Jisung was telling the truth or not about you and him sleeping together, he acts as if you’re not to save himself from the reality of it. 
“D-Do you really need to?” Hyunjin asks hesitantly, fumbling terribly with his words as Jisung lowers his head down and licks one long stripe from the base of Hyunjin’s cock, right to his dark pink tip.
“Yes,” he confirms, but doesn’t truly tell him why for reasons far too similar to his friend here. 
After giving his answer, Jisung sinks his mouth onto Hyunjin’s cock, just half of it to tease him. Bobbing his head a couple of times causes Hyunjin’s to grab the side of the couch while the other flies to land on top of Jisung’s head. 
“What if…if he doesn’t say anything?” He questions breathlessly. 
Jisung pops back up, and leans over Hyunjin’s abdomen to ask him in his face, his question bears some perspective to the situation, “do you want me to blow you, or not?”
Hyunjin uses the hand that’s not ready to brace his body by the side of the couch and tucks a long lock of Jisung’s dark brown hair behind his ear, “yes.”  
“Then please shut your mouth and let me,” he demands. 
It wasn’t hard for Hyunjin’s eyelids to shut and squeeze together. Receiving a blowjob from Jisung always feels like he’s had his soul sucked out of him; he doesn’t know where he learned it, but isn’t complaining either because it put Hyunjin to sleep ten minutes after they cleaned themselves up. By the time he and Jisung crawled into bed together, he had forgotten having the conversation with Jisung about you and Chan. Yet, only to be reminded of it the following day when Jisung woke up at half past eleven in the morning. 
He was scheduled to meet Chan at one of his favourite lunch spots nearby and was in no mood to meet him. Being the morning person he is not, Jisung found himself struggling immensely to get out of bed and Hyunjin’s long arms that were encasing him. 
Although he didn’t feel like leaving, he thought it would be best to just go as it had been a while since he saw Chan last. More importantly, he needed to confront him about what’s going on. Mainly for his own piece of mind.
He remembers something in his stomach sinking when he read that text on your phone. Despite the intense shock he felt when he discovered that you and Chan were hooking up, he wasn’t able to diverge from his own feelings. Something which he struggles to get across and might depending on the outcome of the lunch with one of the people in question. 
Jisung steps out of the shower with a towel around his waist as he goes to sit on the end of the bed to open some of the drawers to his dresser. He pulls out a cream coloured jersey, some underwear, and a pair of sweatpants.
The fact that he needs to borrow so many articles of clothing is just another potent reminder that he should be packing and taking an overnight bag whenever he goes to hang out with Hyunjin. Nine times out of ten, Jisung will always say he’s only coming over for the afternoon then ends up staying for more than one day at a time.   
The sheets ruffle beneath Hyunjin’s body as he stirs himself awake. He sits up, bed head on full view and eyes barely open, “what are you doing?” 
“Borrowing some clothes,” Jisung answers trying to ignore how hot his morning voice sounds. “I’ll bring you back some food to compensate.” 
“You said that last time,” he grumbles sleepily. “I’m also down four of my favourite jerseys because of you.”
Jisung throws on the material over his top half before crawling his way on the mattress to Hyunjin. He kisses him unexpectedly yet expectedly on the lips.
“Just go back to sleep,” he whispers. “I’ll see you after.”
With his confirmation, Hyunjin’s top half flops back against the mattress before Jisung pulls the white duvet back over his body, tucking him in. He had no trouble falling back asleep when Jisung lightly brushes some strands of his hair out of his face. However, without the distraction of him touching Hyunjin, Jisung couldn’t help but feel nervous.
He already knew that you and Chan were sleeping together. That text long affirmed that. Yet for how long and what for remained to be a sickening twist of fearful questions lugging Jisung’s stomach down. He didn’t really want to hear the answers from Chan if he can even stomach that conversation. He didn’t want to hear ‘yes we’ve been fucking’ or the ‘yeah, it’s true’ answers. 
In saying that, Jisung has a trait of bottomless curiosity. That itch to find out for his own personal gain was going to make or break him. At that, he dons on the matching coloured sweats, grabs his phone and wallet, and then heads out of Hyunjin’s apartment. 
After a train ride away, it doesn’t take long for Jisung to arrive, and apparently not for Chan either, who was already seated, waiting for his friend. An assortment of dishes had already been brought to the table, making Jisung realise how hungry he was since breakfast was no longer. 
“How the fuck did you get here so fast, you live on the other side of the city,” Jisung exclaims to him from behind as he approaches.
“Hey. I couldn’t wait any longer because I was hungry,” Chan complains in a whiny tone. “Came here earlier to order, so I couldn’t wait.”
“Good, that makes things easier because I didn’t know what I was going to get anyway,” he replies and sits down in the booth opposite Chan. He hasn't changed much. Then again, it hasn't been too long since he's seen him last. “Been busy?”
He shakes his head, “you have no idea.” 
“Thought you might’ve been,” Jisung responds, eyeing him intently to see if he gives off even the subtlest signs of a lie. “Haven’t seen you in almost a month, what’ve you been up to?” 
Chan shrugs, “work and tutoring some of these students at the University.” 
Jisung gives a firm nod, believing him and understanding how tiresome that must be to help teach students. It’s not until he pauses and realises that Uni semesters haven’t started yet. Even summer semester students are on break. He could’ve called him out on his bullshit now to see what answers he would get, but for the sake of wanting to find out other information, he keeps that to himself. 
“Shit, sounds tough,” Jisung sympathises with him, or at least tries to if he was lying.
“How ‘bout you?” 
“Same old. Working - you’re still coming to Jeju right?” He asks on a different subject.
“Yeah, of course. I took leave for it,” Chan answers as a puzzled look then befalls on his face. For a moment, his eyes narrow at Jisung, or rather his chest, trying to decipher what’s wrong with the picture he’s currently seeing. 
“What?” He asks, trying to follow his gaze.  
“You and Hyunjin have the same jersey,” Chan points out, realising what the flaw was. 
“Oh, I know, that loser keeps copying everything I wear,” Jisung quickly plays it cool because unbeknownst to Chan, it is in fact Hyunjin’s jersey. 
“Why are you wearing a scarf by the way?” Jisung tries to direct the attention away from himself
He hadn’t noticed the black item wrapped warmly around Chan’s neck until he began to panic whilst digging up something else to switch topics. The heat Jisung feels like he’s already being dragged under was starting to make him feel uneasy.
“The same reason you’re wearing a jersey on a thirty degree day,” Chan fires back just as fast but more nonchalantly to just about make Jisung sweat. 
It forces him to wonder what on earth this reason is that his friend is talking about, and why he’s being so cryptic. 
His face twists into confusion, mildly surprised when he realises Chan is trying to clock him for something that he doesn’t even know about or what for. Then again, it’s Chan. When is he not this observant? 
“And what reason is that?” He responds with an accusatory tone. 
Chan doesn’t answer, not directly. He only lifts his chin up slightly and points to his own throat, confusing the hell out of Jisung as to what he means. When it’s clear that the message can’t cross his mind, Chan rolls his eyes, and reaches into his pockets to take out his phone. He pulls up the selfie camera mode and hands it to Jisung to look at. 
Apart from seeing his own reflection, he can see something else; a few splotches of dark, reddish marks littered all over his throat. At first he thought he had a rash, but wasn’t too sure what he was looking at. However, upon closer inspection, he moves the camera a bit closer to his throat and takes a photo on Chan’s phone to see it better. 
After his quick analysis, Jisung knew instantly what they were. More importantly, who it came from. Hickies, and from none other than the only person he’s been messing around with, Hyunjin. Jisung didn’t even bother covering them up.
He hastily hands Chan’s phone back after deleting the photo, “so what?”
“Suppose you forgot you had them, judging by your reaction,” Chan guessed correctly, completely stumping Jisung who’s nearly lifting his own body off his seat as he tries to come up with an argument. 
“Well…I suppose you didn’t know that I know you and Y/N are fucking which explains the scarf too but here we are!” He blurts out before he even has time to think about stopping the words from coming out of his mouth.
Chan’s hand stalls over the pot of stew while Jisung’s lips are pursed together. All the colour in his face has drained, almost making him feel lightheaded that he just said that out loud. In saying that, this is exactly the topic he wanted to discuss - you and Chan. He just wasn’t expecting the conversation to meander in such a way that nearly exposes himself and threw him way off the track of ever raising the subject. 
“And what makes you think that?” Chan resumes ladling some of the hot stew into his bowl of rice. 
Jisung knows that you can’t unring a bell so makes the split decision and decides to come clean, “I was using Y/N’s phone for something, and that’s where I saw a text message from you, hinting that you guys were sleeping together.”
“Ah,” Chan recalls immediately at the sudden confession. “From that little truth or dare game you, her and Hyunjin played?” 
Jisung’s jaw unhinges, staring across the table towards his friend who seems to be a search engine for the topic of ‘everything Jisung has done lately.’ Nearly every minute that passes, Chan slaps him with a new fact that his friend wasn’t expecting him to know. 
“You - but, how did- did Hyunjin-“
Chan’s already shaking his head before Jisung can muster a proper sentence, “Hyunjin never said a word. In fact he hasn’t been replying to my texts so I haven’t heard from him.”
“Then…then Y/N?” 
“Well it couldn’t have been you or anyone else that was there.” 
Jisung isn’t angry. He’s just shocked that he keeps getting one upped. Chan finding out that Jisung had a threesome with two of his best friends - one of them who he’s been fucking for some time now too - was far more of a juicy topic than just you and Chan seeing each other casually, which Jisung still doesn’t know the full details of. 
“Said she had never cum like that in her entire life,” Chan adds, burying Jisung another meter or so deeper into this hole of new scandalous information. 
His body freezes over. Suddenly, it’s not thirty degrees and everything feels cold. Jisung doesn’t ever really hear Chan talk about his sex life. Even when he was in a relationship with his ex, each of his friends tried to dissect as many details about it as they could. But they were never successful. That was a result of keeping things as private and low key as possible. 
Nevertheless, Chan’s crude and very straightforward words had knocked Jisung right off his feet. The fact that you had told him what must’ve been very clear details of that night at Hyunjin’s was a sign that it still lingered on your brain. Part of his ego secretly swells with joy because of it.
“Then I felt like I needed to outdo you guys after that,” he adds.
“What do you mean?” Jisung questions with a tone of an impending doom that looms over him. 
Chan smiles sweetly, memories stirring of that night in particular he had with you. It had to be one of the best times by far to him, “you know what I mean.”
Jisung’s skin stings with scorching hot jealousy; he knows exactly what Chan means. The fact of the matter is that he can’t believe he’s saying these types of things to him. Then again, there’s only one reason why Jisung would be so affected by it and he didn’t want to display that in front of Chan without figuring out what it means. But whatever it is that’s tugging at the organ beating hard and fast in his chest, makes him furious. 
“Alright then,” he replies unfazed as he possibly could, swallowing the tough pill before realising there was one other thing he wanted to mention. “Suppose you guys are still seeing each other.”
Chan looks Jisung right in his eyes as he slowly retracts the spoon out of his mouth, “maybe.” 
“So yes then.”
“What does it mean to you?” He tests him, almost sadistically.
“It means nothing to me,” Jisung answers rather bitterly and nastily, his entire aura switching up before he finds a new tether to lure the spotlight away from himself. “Just the fact that I told the others about you two, and they made a bet.”
Chan looks up, “a bet?”
“None of them believed me, so they made a bet to see whether you guys were or not even though I said so.” 
If he didn’t have food in his mouth, Chan would’ve laughed, instead a disgruntled chuckle came out along with a couple of specs of his rice, “course they wouldn’t! Why would they believe that the two polar opposite people would be screwing behind everyone’s back?”
“You're not mad?” Jisung checks to be sure.
He shakes his head, “course not, dunno if Y/N won’t be though. She said she likes keeping things pretty private-“
“Clearly not if she told you she had a threesome,” Jisung cuts him off at that point. 
“Well, there’s some exceptions to that,” Chan shrugs, finishing off his bowl of rice. “I don’t know if this means anything to you but, she wouldn’t shut up about sleeping with you and Hyunjin. She told me every single detail like for instance, when you and Hyunjin made out-“
The tongs fall out of Jisung’s tight grip and clatter onto the table. He brings his hands up to his eyes, covering his entire face to hide whatever embarrassing feelings that start to simmer on the surface. However, Chan didn’t seem to care and continued on with his points to prove. 
“-how she liked it when you went down on her, how you watched Hyunjin fuck her - I told you what I meant about the details, right? Anyway,” he says. “She was raving about it. And yet, when she and I started seeing each other casually, she said that she didn’t want me to tell anyone else. That I needed to take what we have to the grave.”
Jisung removes his hands away from his face and looks down at his own food, unsure if he can stomach any more of it with the way the conversation has been handled. The more he talks and thinks about you, the more he feels like he’s being filled up with this bad gloomy feeling. He has to wonder if Chan is just being plain cruel to him by dumping all of his thoughts and information onto him.
He has to wonder, would it have been better to stay oblivious rather than being teased with snippets of what you’ve been saying to Chan these past few weeks. Hearing about how much you enjoyed yourself with him and Hyunjin yet haven’t directly spoken to them since that night. 
“What are you saying?” Jisung questions, tired with the bullshit that’s starting to spike in their discussion. 
“The fact that she wants to keep our…activities a secret from people and rather them not find out about us, yet is the first to speak highly of what you, her and Hyunjin did, means something more than you think.” 
More than he thinks? Jisung can’t understand what that could’ve possibly meant. He sits there, bewildered and stumped. Unsure of what else to say.
“Right,” he responds. 
Chan watches him warily, trying to gauge his behaviour as he decides to change the topic, “so, what’s on the table for this bet?” 
Jisung quickly pries himself away from his messy mind and answers, “losers have to buy a days’ worth of food when we go to Jeju.”
Chan nods, impressed as he reaches for more meat on the grill and loads it into his bowl, “even less of a reason to be mad. Looks like I’ll be eating for free either way.” 
"Yeah, looks like it."
The span of Jisung's vocabulary seemed to fail him. That and the fact that he didn't really want to talk anymore. Yes, it was good to see one of his best friends, but the circumstances that developed throughout their lengthy conversation made him wish he stayed in bed with Hyunjin just the extra bit longer so he would have to cancel lunch.
He managed to finish off small bowls of food to not make himself appear out of character. One whiff of anything remotely aberrant on Jisung's behalf, and Chan would hold him hostage in the restaurant until he tells him what's wrong. Despite that, Chan noticed something off anyway.
He saw the way Jisung's face fell when he confirmed that he was sleeping with you. He saw how his shoulders drooped and then picked up when he mentioned that you told him about the night at Hyunjin's. He saw how defensive and sceptical Jisung became whenever he would just simply mention you.
He saw that Jisung was hiding something.
When both friends had finished enjoying their meals, they were greeted with a downpour of rain that would have them seeking refuge under the veranda of the restaurant once they were outside. Just before they bid farewell to each other, Chan quickly turns to Jisung and calls out.
“It’s okay if you like her,” he says out of nowhere. “Y/N and I are not what you might think we are and we made it clear to each other that we never will be. There’s nothing between her and I, just so you know.”
Jisung stares at him, not showing any emotions on his face even though deep down, his brain and insides are whirring with emotions he can't even fathom, “I don’t like her like that.” 
Chan laughs at him, unfazed with the sudden tension that seems to be slicing through them, “keep telling yourself that. See you next week.” 
Through the deluge of rain and shadows from the dark, dense clouds above, Chan runs off in the opposite direction to where he needs to head home. Jisung stands there defeated and shocked that Chan is onto his tail that he likes you. He knew that heading into meeting up with him meant that the truth was going to come out one way or the other. Suppose it was just not on his terms.
It stirs many thoughts as he throws his hood up and ducks out into the rain to head to the train station and back to the safety of Hyunjin.
When he returns, Jisung keys in the passcode to unlock the door to the apartment, and is smothered with a waft of a sweet decadent scent. Standing in the kitchen, Hyunjin was at the stove flipping over what looked to be pancakes which suddenly reminded Jisung-
“Fuck, oh my god. The food, I forgot to even order it,” Jisung groans when he closes the door behind him.
Hyunjin turns the element dial on low and spins around to lean on the counter, away from the stove tops, "it's okay. I felt like something sweet anyway."
Jisung sighs. It felt right to be back with Hyunjin once more even though he had only been out for a couple of hours. In saying that, his conversation with Chan was good but draining. It’s not that he doesn’t like him for telling him the truth, there’s absolutely no doubt about that. Chan is and will always be his friend.
There is no emotional connection between you and him and that’s all that matters to Jisung. However, it’s just the truth in itself that he has an issue with - you hooking up with Chan every now and then that is. It makes him feel uneasy and almost makes him feel like he’s doing something immoral by just sitting back and watching it happen.
The reality stings where he doesn’t like it so pushes himself from the edge of the bench and walks into Hyunjin’s body to retreat from his thoughts. Slightly taken aback but not oblivious to the strange display of emotions Jisung is presenting, Hyunjin sets the spatula down beside him and hugs his friend back. 
“You okay?” He questions, concern dripping all over his face.
Jisung nods his head on his chest, “yeah. Just socialising, now I’m tired.”
It wasn’t a lie, but not the truth either. Regardless, Hyunjin takes his word for it without thinking twice about it. He had completely forgotten why Jisung had gone to see Chan for in the first place.
“Wanna nap together?” 
“Didn’t you just wake up?” Jisung pulls one arm away from Hyunjin’s body while the other still rests there so that he can rub his eyes. 
"Well," Hyunjin looks away from him. "That's beside the point. Just...missed you is all too.”
"Cute," he grumbles, ignoring what the weight of those words truly means. "I should pack for next week though because knowing me, I'll leave everything until the last minute."
Hyunjin lets out a long sigh. He hasn't even thought about putting a suitcase together yet either, "true. I should probably start packing as well."
"Okay then let’s both get ready," Jisung looks up at him before leaning in to plant a soft kiss on Hyunjin's lips, slowly pulling away and says quietly; "see you in Jeju."
Hyunjin responds, look at him, “see you in Jeju.”
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flashbangstars · 2 months
Text
How People Found out you two were dating
NCT Dream Edition
pink ~ y/n
Blue ~ dream
Green ~ secondary character/another dreamie
Mark
"so um Jeno found out about us dating"
"oh, I thought we were waiting until game night to tell them"
"well yeah uh funny story, I tried to put my sweatshirt on at Jeno's house and your hot pink thong fell out of the sleeve onto his carpet."
"I WAS WONDERING WHERE THAT WENT"
"Yeah I know me too, besides that. Jeno got mad and lectured me on not leading you on if I had other girls I was doing stuff with, so I uh.."
"you told Jeno the hot pink thong was mine"
"yeah basically"
"and I have to face him on friday knowing he's seen my panties"
"to be fair he did say they were cute"
"you know that actually didn't help at all"
Renjun
"hey babe can you help me really quickly, I need help moving my monitor, the cord is stuck somewhere behind my desk"
"Y/n can it wait like 10 minutes"
"No it literally can't I have a assignment due in thirty minutes and I will literally jump off a fucking cliff if I don't get full credit for this"
"Nice Hello Kitty Underwear"
"Renjun you're the one who bought me these, you've seen them and taken them off me numerous times"
"oh he has!! has he!"
"go put some pants on please sweetheart"
"I'm so fucking terrified why were their two different voices just now"
"Hi y/n"
"I'm gonna start crying please tell me Jaemin didn't just see me in fucking hello kitty underwear"
"Y/n please go put some pants on"
"yeah....yeah I'll go do that...... Uh just so you know....im not letting him hit for free.....he did ask me out"
"congrats to the happy couple"
"fuck you"
Jeno
"so how did you all manage to fail the same test?"
"I cheated off of Haechan, and Haechan Cheated off of Jaemin, so its basically Jaemin's fault"
"hey I thought Jaemin knew what he was doing"
"Haechan, Jaemin never knows what he is doing"
"fair"
"oh fuck, I have to go babe I'm gonna miss the bus if I dont run, I will see you soon" *phatass smooch before leaving* *leaves*
5 minutes later....
"alright I'm back I missed the bus"
"DID YALL JUST FUCKING KISS?"
"....no"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO I FUCKING WATCHED IT HAPPEN"
"oh thats so crazy I think I just heard the bus, I have to go omg byeeeeee"
"so you're leaving me to deal with this"
"yes, bye pookie, smooches I'll see you later tonight, bye Haechan!"
Haechan
"are we gonna talk about it... or should I just ignore it"
"ignore what"
"im not following"
"are you two being serious"
"dude what the fuck are you talking about??"
"Haechan."
"what"
"you've been sitting in y/n's lap the entire time we've been here"
"and...?"
"we are literally just close friends"
"dog you are literally hand feeding haechan french fries"
"im literally baby"
"even that was a lot for me"
"im sorry pookie"
"allllriight get off, I wont be this couple"
"pookie did you just make it official!"
"can you please be normal"
Jaemin
"Hypothetically what do you guys consider too much for a gift for your significant other"
"well how long would you two have been dating"
"like 6 months...?"
"umm anything ring related, thats kinda scary, too reminiscent of marriage"
"well fuck"
"what do you mean oh fuck? what the fuck did you buy"
"a ring"
"what"
"what...."
"for who??"
"y/n"
"WHAT"
"Y/N?"
"WHY?"
"YOU'VE BEEN DATING FOR 6 MONTHS?"
"STOP YELLING AT ME"
Chenle
"the guys know you and me are dating"
"what? how"
"I got in trouble"
"what did you do..."
"they all got kinda mad at me and said I was kinda mean to you and asked what my issue with you was"
"and what did you say"
"please don't be mad"
"chenle"
"I told them not to worry because you think it's hot when I'm kinda mean"
"chenle"
they didn't believe me at first... and I was feeling pressured!...they literally cornered me!"
"chenle"
"so I showed them a little bit of our texts when you said...itwassexy whenIwasmeantoyou"
"run"
"I WILL TELL THEM ABOUT THE MOMMY KINK IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER?"
"run. now"
"ok!"
Jisung
"hey guys, just wanted to let you know me and jisung are dating now officially"
*shriek* "WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT!"
"Jisung what..."
"I DONT EVEN KNOW WHO YOU ARE"
"jisung park"
"please ma'am stop spreading that!"
"ANDY"
"I'm so sorry guys I dont know whats gotten into her!"
"jisung...She's literally your lockscreen"
"I literally have no idea what you are talking about"
"jisung I WILL do a coochie ban"
"this is actually bae 4 lyfe, she my day one and I worship the ground she walk on fr"
"thats what I thought"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Hi! here is a little something from the drafts that is basically finished, I hope you like it! I am fr just getting back into writing so excuse any errors. But i hope yall have a good night/day!
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imthebadguyyy · 7 months
Text
Something Just Like This
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pairing - charles leclerc x reader
fandom - f1
synopsis - a reflection on your relationship.
part - i (part ii)
warnings - talk about death, leukemia, badly translated french and the events may not be in order.
a/n - felt guilty for being away for so long so here's a wee little bit of a fic to make up for it!! all my love, always ♥️
when you were five,your dad had taken you to a go kart track in monaco, to watch a race with his childhood best friend, herve. having previously lived elsewhere, your trip to monaco with your parents was tremendously exciting, and you had nearly tripped over in your excitement at visiting a new country, and possibly making new friends. your dad had told you, "my friend has 3 sons himself, I'm sure you'll all get along very well"
so, you went, clutching your raggedy anne doll in one hand, and your model ferrari in the other, excitedly chattering away to your mummy and papa, eventually falling asleep on their shoulders.
when you awoke, you found yourself on a strange bed, with neither your doll nor your car beside you, and your parents seemed to have vanished too. the easy tears that had always been ready to spring to your eyes did their job, and your bottom lip began to wobble.
just before you could burst into tears, a pretty lady with kind eyes looked in at the door, and upon seeing your trembling lip, walked in with a soft coo.
"ma cherie, don't cry. are you looking for your maman and papa?" she asked, sitting down beside you.
"yes I am, do you know where they are?" you asked, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you spoke. "yes cherie, they're here, in the living room. im pascale, your parents friend! my husband, herve, is your dad's friend. come, let me introduce you"
and so you followed her to the living room, clutching into her finger for dear life, and the moment you spotted your parents, you ran to your mama, clambering into her lap and hiding your face in her hair.
"hello! are you y/n?" a little boy asked, with messy dark hair a sweet smile. you nodded, looking at him curiously. "I'm Lorenzo, but you can call me enzo!" he said with a smile. "hello" you mumbles softly, taking in your surroundings.
you took in the pretty apartment, with the bright sunlight and the pretty paintings, before something on the floor caught your eye.
there was another boy on the carpet, with brown hair and green eyes, who had in his clutch your missing ferrari toy.
"hey thats my car!" you exclaimed, sliding off your mother's lap to sit on the floor"
"that can't be your car, girls don't play with cars!" the boy exclaimed, holding it close.
"now charles, of course they can! and that is y/n's car so why don't you ask her if you can play with it together?" pascale interrupted, sensing a fight about to break out
"ok, im sorry y/n, can we share this car please? i love ferrari!" he exclaimed, flashing you a bright smile, and it was at that moment that your little five year old heart fell hard for the boy.
the two of you spent the afternoon together, playing with your ferrari and all his other cars, and laughing and giggling with lorenzo, and also playing with baby arthur.
your parents watched with smiles, realizing their children were forming life long bonds.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
no one could have foreseen how you would be joined at the hip forever after that. your parents moved to monaco for a job your dad got, and you started living just down the block from the leclerc's. that meant Saturday night dinners at either of your houses, and lazy Sundays spent at the beach or at go kart races.
you even went to the same school as the boys, with either of your parents picking you up and dropping you off.
as the years passed, you and charles got closer and closer, and it was a rare occasion where you weren't stuck at the hip.
you found in him the best friend you always wanted, funny, kind and caring, and always ready to have your back, something he proved on the very first day of school, when he punched a kid who pulled on your pigtails.
his parents weren't happy but when a tearful charles explained that "i couldn't let him hurt y/n/n!! i love her!!" pascale softened and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"you love her, do you?" she asked with a chuckle, when the boy nodded furiously. "she's my best friend, nobody should make her upset" he said determinedly, making his dad chuckle too.
"ok, mon fils, tu n'as pas de problèmes"
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・
on your sixteenth birthday, the leclercs joined your family for a special dinner on the beach. your dad rented a yacht and you guys had spent the day sailing on it, and trying to catch fish and swimming in the blue water. you had all laughed and screamed and lorenzo had taught you how to do a proper cannonball into the water. your mother's had scolded him for teaching you such unladylike things, and he in turn said "but she's y/n! no one's expecting her to be ladylike!" at which point you had dunked him in the water.
you tuckered each other out by swimming around, and participating in a chicken fight with the leclercs. it was you in charles' shoulder, and arthur on lorenzo's. of course, you won.
it reminded you of when you were children, always together, always messing around in some way or the other. but with Charles spending more and more time racing, you got to see the leclercs much lesser than you'd have liked to.
so communication with Charles became through letters, written to him when he went out of the country to race, with his dad and brother. pascale was a regular visitor but meeting charles had become something to be cherished, what with you busy trying to get auditions to be a singer.
in the years that had passed, you and charles had become extremely close, meeting each other whenever possible and becoming each others support system whenever the other needed it. so of course it was fitting that he was your designated best friend, your confidante, your favourite leclerc (but we won't tell arthur that)
so that night after dinner, when charles suggested you take a walk together on the beach, you thought nothing of it. not until he pulled out a small bracelet he had made, out of seashells, that you gasped, leaping into his arms for a tight hug.
"i want you to have something to remember me by when I go racing, ma jolie, i know I'm not always around, but this way you'll always have a piece of me with you, even if I'm not there" he whispered, dropping a small kiss you your forehead.
gentle kisses and hugs and touch were not unusual for you, it was your love language and it always had been, ever since you were kids.
but there had always been a lingering crush you had on him (and him on you but we'll talk about that later) and you felt your belly burn red hot when his lips dropped to your cheek.
you pulled him in close for a hug, hand running through his hair, freshly cut by his mother.
"merci, ma vie" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his wrist, and as the both of you stayed there, your head on his shoulder, his head on yours, cozy on a rug he had stolen, watching the beautiful monaco sunset, you swore you had never loved anyone as much as you had in that moment.
and charles realized it too, looking over at you, and how the sunset cast a golden hue on your mesmerizing eyes, and the way your hair shimmered softly, and your skin glowed bright, and he swore he had never seen a sight prettier, and his little teenage heart fell a little harder for the five year old who worse pigtails and loved ferrari as much as he did.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
however, your story wasn't always just sunshine and rainbows. when you were seventeen, your dad was diagnosed with leukemia.
the news came as a shock to you, especially when the doctor told you, he did not have strong chances of recovery even with the proper surgery and treatment. you'd never forget your mother's wail, as she sobbed over your father's fate, and how pascale and herve were there for her through it all, but for you, you couldn't breathe.
you ran to the park, crawling under the slide set, your breathing harsh and shallow. your eyes were blurring and every breath sent a sharp pain shooting down your chest. around you, the world seemed to spin and you closed your eyes, drawing your knees in, and begging your brain to stop, and pressing a hand to your chest.
before you knew it you were gasping, every gasp making you more and more dizzy, and your heart seemed to be banging against your chest to get out.
"am i dying?" you thought to yourself, labouring gasps echoing in the darkness.
"and am i hearing things?" you also asked yourself, because you could have sworn you heard charles' voice.
and lo and behold, he appeared, panting and sweaty, sinking down next to you, grabbing your sweaty hands in his own and pushing his forehead down to yours.
"cherie? ma jolie? regarde-moi s'il te plaît, regarde-moi. maman told me what happened. please cherie, breathe for me, i need you to breathe. peux-tu respirer pour moi?" he begged, rubbing your back slowly and pressing kisses to your nose.
slowly, your breathing slowed down, but as it did, tears began to stream down your face, and ugly sobs wracked your body.
Charles felt his heart break, watching the strongest girl he knew break down in his arms, tears and sweat pooling on his shirt as you sobbed.
"i know, Cherie, i know" he whispered, his own eyes glazing over. he loved your dad as much as your dad loved him, and he couldn't believe it when his mother told him the news. he pulled you in even closer, so you were straddling his lap, and kept rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings to you.
"papa, il va mourir et il va nous laisser maman et moi seules" you wailed into his shoulder and he shushed you gently.
"no no no, cherie, listen to me, please?" he asked, pulling your chin up, heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and runny nose.
you nodded slowly, still hiccupping, but letting him pull you into his chest.
"y/n, i cannot tell you what the future holds for your papa. but I can promise you that you and mama will never be alone, ever. even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there, not while maman is there, not while papa is there, and not while lorenzo and arthur are there. you are my family, y/n, and family sticks together. I'm here for you, always" he whispered.
you looked at him, your heartbroken eyes looking into his sincere green ones, seeing the same pain reflected in them. and in that moment, you knew it was right when you leaned in, and he did too.
your lips met that cold, dark, rainy evening, under the shade of the slide set in the park, but your souls had intertwined when you were five, and you could have sworn you had never felt more alive than you did at the moment.
and while your heart broke and sagged with the weight of losing your father so soon, it also ached with love at having charles with you. so when you drew back, still tasting, the salty tears you both had shed, he pulled you back in for a tighter hug.
"toujours là pour toi cherie, toujours."
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
you lost your dad the following year, in 2016, and charles was by your side at the funeral, watching you cry as you placed a white rose on his casket.
you had never spoken about that kiss again, and neither of you had thought it was the right time to bring it up in the months that followed.
charles watched as your mother, the woman he so admired, crumbled before him, lost without her guiding light. is that how it would ever be if you ever lost him?
the fear that coursed through his heart shocked him. he couldn't imagine what it would be like, to loose someone he loved so dearly.
his father had taken over as a surrogate father for you, and constant support for your mother. but the leclercs knew something that you didn't, their father wasn't keeping very well either, but no one had the heart to tell the l/n's, not when you were already suffering through so much.
after the funeral, there was a small tea at your own house, but you couldn't bear to be there. so at the first opportunity, you slipped away, leaving your mother in pascales care.
you ran, not caring where, until you found yourself at the beach. you sat down, pulling off your shoes and throwing your hat away, before sinking down on your knees to the sand.
you sobbed, salty tears dripping down your face, holding the locket your dad gave you in your hands, and once again, a familiar smell filled your nose as a warm body settled in next to you. charles.
"hi cherie" he whispered, wrapping an arm around you.
"hello" you whispered, mustering up a small smile.
"ma courageuse fille" he whispered softly, making you giggle and sob at the same time.
"i have to be strong for maman" you admitted. "she has no one but me in this world anymore" you whispered, eyes blurring again.
"she has us, always" charles said determinedly. "and we aren't going anywhere" he said, taking your hand in his.
and as the sun set once again, you reminicsed about a simpler, sweeter time, when you and charles where carefree and innocent, not scarred by life and it's harsh realities.
there was something special in that sunset, you noted, resting your head on charles shoulder again. perhaps your papa was trying to indicate that charles was the one for you.
but at the moment, sitting by the beach, in a moment of joined sorrow, you had never felt more human.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
with charles growing success in f2, and you finally getting a record deal, life was going well.
until you were told that herve was not doing well. denial flooded your brain. no. how was this possible? how could god take both the father's in your life to disease and illness?
you screamed and wailed and cursed, too stung, too bitter, about life.
and then the day came, in 2017. when pascale called you sobbing and lorenzo came to your door knocking wildly.
"c'est papa,il ne se réveille pas !! tante laura, qu'est-ce qu'on fait?!'
your mom was out the door in an instant and you followed, following a heartbroken lorenzo to the door of the house you knew so well.
you could hear pascales wails before you even reached, and the easy tears rose again but you forced them down.
you had to be strong for your second family, and with a deep breath, you pushed the door in.
what you saw broke you.
charles, sobbing on the sofa, head in his hands, while arthur sat next to his mother, in tears.
your mother dealt with all the formalities but you stuck to charles, letting him cry into your shoulder, holding him the hold day, whispering how much you loved him and how sorry you were to him, and promising him that he wasn't alone.
you comforted arthur too, holding the boy in your arms, wrapping him in the tightest hug.
you had never felt more respect for Lorenzo, ever the big brother, tears streaming down him face, even though he stayed so strong for his family.
later that evening, you held charles in their balcony, wrapped in a blanket that you had knitted for him.
"i feel so hollow, so empty" he admitted, burying his face deeper into your neck, trying his best to stay grounded by inhaling the scent of your perfume.
"i feel as if a piece of my heart has been snatched away and I'll never be okay again" he admitted, tears filling his eyes for the hundredth time that day.
"i know, charles, believe me I know" you whispered softly to him, running your hands through his hair, "but a wise boy I know once told me, that I was never ever going to be alone. he told me 'even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there' and today charles, I am saying the same to you. i know that it hurts like anything right now and that pain will never go away"
"feel that pain charles. it's what makes you human, ma vie,and i know it hurts. but I am here for you. take out all your pain and I will be there to catch you when you fall. i will be there to put you back together when you fall apart. i am here for you ma vie, always" you whispered to him, and he choked out a sob, curling himself into you, never more sure of his love for you.
"i lied and told him I got the ferrari seat" he finally choked out, and with a soft whisper of "oh charles" you pulled him in close.
there it was.
the reason why he felt like his soul was being eaten up inside.
"charles, mon coeur, i promise, you will get that ferrari seat. it will be soon, and you will have kept that promise to your papa, i have a feeling mon coeur, that your future in formula 1 will be as bright and shiny as you, and you are going to get everything you deserve, i know you will"
and he chose to take solace in your words.
just like he took solace in your soul.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
you made your formula 2 debut alongside charles at Baku that year. everyday you were left more in awe of the powerful force that he was, ready to race in less than a week, because he felt he owed it to the man who made him who he was.
so you told him you'd go with him, be his support and be there for him when he needed you to most.
and you were left spellbound yet again, at his talent, his resilience, his drive, his passion.
p fucking 1. at a race that meant the world to him.
and as he ran towards you after, body colliding with yours so hard you swear some of your bones snapped, you told him everything you had to in your embrace.
rough racing gloves on delicate skin, frenzied pulling closer and harsh breathing. thats all you remembered from the moment, looking deep into his emerald ,knowing the media was having a field day.
"I'm so so so so proud of you so fucking proud" you whispered. "and i know your dad is too" you continued, pressing a small kiss to his helmet.
when he stood on the podium, tears streamed down your cheeks. you were so so so proud of him.
and as he looked down at you, he smiled, knowing you were always going to be his brightest star.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Charles' journey is formula 1 started with Sauber but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't stay there.
when kimi announced he was leaving ferrari, you called charles and screamed into his ears "YOURE GOING TO GET THAT FUCKING SEAT MARK MY WORDS" and he had simply chuckled saying he was hoping for the best.
so when in the middle of recording a song, your phone rang with charles' name, you dropped everything you were doing and picked up the phone.
"je l'ai fait. j'ai eu le siège"
"quoi?"
"le siège ferrari. j'ai compris. c'est à moi. je vais être pilote de ferrari pour 2019"
the scream you let out was so loud your producer jumped out of his skin.
"I'm so proud of you!! J'ai toujours su que tu l'aurais, tu mérites le monde et plus encore!!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face and you heard charles laugh.
"merci, mon cherie. i will celebrate with you soon" he chuckled.
"obviously you will!! I'll be home soon, let me just finish this album first and then I am all yours" you laughed.
oh how you longed to be all his. it's all you'd ever wanted since you were a teenager.
charles' heart ached.
oh how he longed for you to be all his. it was all he'd ever wanted since he was a teenager.
later that day, you wrote the song feels like.
social media had a breakdown.
charles had a breakdown.
but that's mainly because he'd rather you wrote a love song about him.
unbeknownst to him, you had atleast a 100 lovesongs written about him.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
clicking your pen for the hundredth time, you let out a sigh.
this songwriting thing was so frustrating.
it seemed like you had a billion ideas but nothing compact came out of it.
with a deep sigh, you let your hand crash against the piano, letting the discordant notes ring in your apartment.
but the ending caught your attention.
humming, you grabbed your pen again, jotting down, scribbling down all the things you wanted to say but never would.
being a singer had always been, and just as charles was flourishing in his career, you were flourishing in yours. you had already won a grammy for your album 'nostalgia' and had won amas, Brit awards, and 2 vma awards.
'the rising star of pop' was what they affectionately called you.
you had stunned the world with your versatility and range and the depth of your songs. ballads like gravity and last kiss had shown your emotional depth. songs like when I get there and make you feel my love had showing your delicate, romantic, vulnerable side. songs like happier reflected your pain.
your song fat funny friend had shot you into the global scene when you released it as a single. millions of fans wrote to you, thanking you for being vulnerable so others could feel seen.
and of course, no one picked up on the secret ballads for charles, pinning it down to young love and romance that was usual for all people your age.
so as you finally finished the song and smiled, you knew they wouldn't guess for this one either.
but you would know.
and so you sent it to be your next single.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
summer break rolled around, and you had a new mission - confessing your feelings for charles.
you were sure the timing was right.
you had to tell your best friend in the whole world that you were madly in love with him.
you told pascale, who squealed and told you "welcome to the family officially!!' earning a laugh from you.
"let me tell the boy first maman, then I'll tell you what he says"
"of course he'll say he loves you too! i know my son cherie, he's been in love with you since you were children, he's just too stupid to do anything about it" she joked affectionately and you laughed.
"j'espere que tu as raison maman. i love him very much" you admitted, blushing a little.
"of course darling. come to dinner tonight, everyone will be there, you can tell him then" she smiled, and you got up to go get dressed, pressing two kisses to her cheek.
back home, you nervously scouted your cupboard to see what you could wear. you showered and washed your hair, and put on a red dress that charles had gifted you when he got his seat.
smiling at the memory, you put on your makeup, did your hair and took a deep breath.
you were really going to do it. you were going to tell the man you had loved your whole life that you loved him.
the drive to the leclercs house was nerve wracking, and ringing the doorbell to their home was even more nerve wracking. you saw lorenzo there already, and he rose to greet you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"how are you y/n? i haven't spoken to you in a long time no?" he asked, sitting down next to you.
"I'm good enzo, very busy with recording. howve you been? I'm sorry i haven't been keeping in touch, I've just been very busy" you apologised, feeling guilty for not spending a lot of time with the oldest Leclerc.
"don't be silly, soeur, i understand you are busy. and your music, it's been a joy to listen to. you're truly a talent, ma belle" he said, and you could feel yourself getting emotional.
"aw, enzo, meri beaucoup, votre avis est très important pour moi" you said, giving him another hug.
he poured you a glass of wine, a small smile playing on his lips.
"so, is tonight finally the night?" he asked with a smirk, remembering how smitten you were for his brother.
you blushed, taking a sip of your wine to cover for it.
"yes, I'm going to tell him tonight" you admitted and he flashed you a warm smile of encouragement.
"Tell who what?" a voice interrupted, and the youngest leclerc plopped himself down next to you.
"y/n/n's going to tell charlie she loves him" lorenzo stated matter of factly, making you Tut and whack his arm.
"quoi? are we not telling arthur?" he asked, feigning hurt.
"i was going to tell him" you whined and then you turned to arthur.
"you must swear to not bring this up until it's over okay?" you told arthur, trying and failing to be stern.
arthur pretended to be hurt.
"of course I won't? what do you take me for, a gossip box?"
"yes" you and lorenzo chimed in unison.
arthur gasped dramatically, making you roll your eyes.
"do you really think that low of me?" he asked, pretending to cover his eyes in agony.
"yes, now shush, i think i heard the bell ring" Lorenzo said, getting up to open the door.
you bit your lip nervously, preparing for charles to walk in the day.
and he did. he looked gorgeous as ever, in a shirt the cover of deep red wine, hair tousled by the wind on his drive, but his eyes and smile were as bright as ever.
your heart started beating so fast you swore you almost had a heart attack.
but nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.
"everyone, i want you to meet charlotte"
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
a/n - aaaand drum roll please 🥁 cliffhanger!!
i promise i won't leave you hanging but this was getting too long and it needed some ✨spice✨ i know this wasn't the best and the timeline wasnt cohesive but I needed to get this out of my system so pls go easy on your girl.
feedback, comments,opinions, reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🩷
hope you had a good read!! much love always xoxo
taglist -
everything - @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird @roslastyles420
f1 - @theonly1outof-a-billion
to be added to the taglist send me an ask, dm or comment 🩷
masterlist
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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Pt VII good omens S1E3 but i'm in a fever-induced haze and i watched it four days ago
Hello maggots it turns out I may have a viral fever... or perchance I'm just going viral in the GO fandom and Crowley being so hot has given me a fever (this is what I learned from years of studying thermodynamics). BAHAHAHAHAHAH anyway this is a LOOOONG post.
EDIT: There are time inconsistencies, as some of you informed me. Paint before wall slam etc. But this show does not follow linear time, just like me. Time is cosmic Play-Doh, and @neil-gaiman, Einstein and I are toddlers playing with it all bendy-bendy. We may have eaten some. I blame Neil. So I will correct nothing.
(im sorry to all my followers, the maggots, and everyone reading this post, i'm afraid this level of quality will be sustained for the rest of the post)
Whatever it may be... haveth my summary of Good Omens Ep3, or whatever I remember of it, anyway.
The second the episode started streaming everyone was yelling about the cold open in the chat.
I could be conflating this with Ep 1 but I think it begins with Aziraphale's gaslight gatekeep girlboss moment where he straight up LIES TO GOD about giving the dumb humans a flaming sword right after they fell from grace.
Hot take from someone who has negligible biblical knowledge, look at it, guys. What harm has an apple ever done to mankind (except to doctors)? Nothing. *nods vigorously* And then our lovely angel goes and gIVES THEM A GODDAMN FLAMING SWORD. Nice, fire and weaponry, this is going to go well for the world!
Anyway lesson is Aziraphale is a chaotic lil bastard and it's why we and Crowley love him.
Fast forward to uh, Noah's Ark... There is a unicorn and it runs away, which Crowley/Crawly seems concerned about. Azi is just chilling there watching all of humanity be drowned and Crowley, looking gorgeous may I add, walks up and she's like CHILDREN? WHY ARE YOU KILLING CHILDREN?
Did I mention that she looks gorgeous with those flowing locks because she does. It gives kind of Disney Brave vibes, doesn't it? Wait is David Tennant Scottish I WANT A DAVID TENNANT/CROWLEY MERIDA COSPLAY.
Anyway so Aziraphale and Crowley watch everyone drown etc
I may have missed a few centuries but then we have ol' Bill Shakespeare and Hamlet (David!!) and Aziraphale like the bean he is wants to cheer them on, and does it badly.
Crowley is standing there thinking man this angel is a fucking doofus why do I love him, and then they make a deal that allows them to do NO work whatsoever since their work cancels out anyway.
Aziraphale pouts at Crowley and Crowley melts inside and makes Hamlet a success though he doesn't even like Shakespeare's tragedies but Azi does and that's all that matters.
OH YEAH FRENCH REVOLUTION. Just to fuck with Aziraphale and because the painkillers are getting to me, I'm gonna do this one in my shit French (et non, je ne peux pas utiliser les accents, j'utilise l'ordinateur et je ne veux pas ouvrir Google). Alors, la revolution est la, Aziraphale veut manger (quelle surprise) et ses vetements sont tres chers, les sans-culottes le tueront, mais Crowley vient et Aziraphale dis "Crowley! Mon hero"
Okay I ran out of French but yes so he was gonna be hanged but Crowley came and Aziraphale's face literally melted and then he switched clothes with the guard and left him to die while he and Crowley went to dine happily (Aziraphale dined, Crowley was hungry for Azi because he has a watching-angel-eat kink).
Aziraphale being a casual accessory to murder/murderer is the most underrated part of good omens.
Fast forward and it's the holocaust and Aziraphale is tricked by some Nazis and they're about to kill him. But Crowley walks down the aisle to their groom, well, more like skips while yelping, and burns the place down for Aziraphale. Naturally Azi's like OH NO MY BOOKS and is ready to cry, then Crowley gently hands him the suitcase full of books unharmed and says just a little miracle for you, baby, want a ride home? And Aziraphale is left holding the books (which by the by Crowley does not care about, they do NOT read books, again, just for Azi) and looking like the happiest man alive and like he would die for Crowley.
Fast forward and we have Crowley in the sixties SERVING with her bob cut, anyone who doesn't like it can fight me to the DEATH, I LOVE HER, and anyway Crowley manipulates, manslaughters and manwhores her way into getting into the car with Aziraphale. He hands her a bottle of holy water because fuck heaven he would do anything for Crowley, and Crowley offers to drive him anywhere (mmmhm Crowley sure you're just being a gentledemon) and Aziraphale tells her that she goes too fast for him. IF THIS ISN'T CALLBACKED IN S3 WITH CROWLEY SAYING "YOU RIDE TOO FAST FOR ME, ANGEL" on a motorbike or horse or his peepee ANYTHING IDC im gonna throw hands.
I'm choosing to forget all the breakups so end cold open back in present day
They're in a paintball arena and Crowley presses Aziraphale into the wall while growling I'm not nice (ok Crowley bro maybe it's time to take a break from 2010s wattpad) and Aziraphale is just gazing adoringly at him. Ex-Satanic nun comes and is like oh my bad this is an intimate moment and Crowley turns around immediately cross that someone's interrupting them but Aziraphale continues to stare at Crowley's face hornily until he reluctantly looks at the nun too. Thanks for the acting choices Michael Sheen.
They hypnotise her and Azi melts when she mentions the antichrist's toesy-woesies and then they leave and Azi is hit by paint, Crowley circles him devouring him with his gaze and finally blows away the paint with an air kiss. I see you, Azi, I KNOW you can get rid of it yourself. Anyway then Crowley turns all the paintball guns into rifles and people start shooting and Azi is like THIS is my husband and they walk away to have drinks while the police swarms.
People were like 'Crowley only ensured no one got killed because of the look Azi gave him' like LMAO have you MET them? Aziraphale is always fucking down for murder, Crowley is the one being like FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AZIRAPHALE NO. Azi was like "shit we gotta kill the antichrist you do it" and crowley's like "bitch slow down we can literally just raise the kid right"
Anyway Crowley gaslights some demons about seeing the hellhound and ig whatever I said happened in Ep 2 with Dog actually happened here etc
The bandstand scene, fuck me. Crowley asks Aziraphale to run away together from the end of the world and Aziraphale says no and they're both sad
we're all sad too
the end
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valeskafics · 1 year
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Headcanons for Being in a Gomez/Morticia Type Relationship with Jace, Aegon, and Aemond
Jace Velaryon
-this boy worships the ground you walk upon, he would fall down on his knees if you asked
-constantly fawning over you, holding you, always wants to have his hands on you
-if he's shorter than you (our short king) he doesn't mind, he loves that you're taller than him! he finds it incredibly sexy
-constantly giving you massive bouquets of roses (which, of course, you only keep the thorny stems of), showering you with gifts
-calls you ñuha dāria (my queen) in high Valyrian all the time, unapologetically and unironically
-completely shameless in his love for you, will start kissing you and telling you how beautiful you are in the middle of a fucking parent teacher conference
-you adore him too, of course, you love holding his face in your hands and kissing him
-he loves the red lipstick stains you leave behind, doesn't get embarrassed like most guys would, wears them like a badge of honor
-Luke is definitely the fester to his Gomez LMFAO, constantly roughhousing and shit
-if/when you have kids, literally the best dad, so hyper involved and interested in everything they do
-always makes sure you are the priority though
Aegon Targaryen
-similarly to Jace, he definitely fills the Gomez side of the relationship
-no matter how long you've been together, this man remains completely in love and infatuated with you
-the thing where Gomez kisses up morticia's arm? that's him, anytime anywhere
-loves making other people uncomfortable with comments about your adventurous sex life "oh, my love, the chains, the whips... does it not remind you of last weekend?"
-loves dancing with you, anywhere and everywhere, soooo extra about it
-the kind of guy that definitely will start a sword fight over you for NO FUCKING REASON OTHER THAN HES A FUCKING GREMLIN
-your family who lives in your house have heard the two of you fucking far too often, they are scarred, they are scared, CAN YALL STOP BEING SO IN LOVE ITS KIND OF FUCKING UP THEIR LIVES
-both of y'all are mildly unhinged and simply make each other worse
-he's clingy, never wants to be apart from you follows you around like a shadow, will talk to you from outside the bathroom
-but you love your clingy lil man
-arryk/erryk are definitely the equivalent of lurch here and have juuuust about had enough of him talking about how great you are
Aemond Targaryen
-with aemond, you kind of fill the Gomez role
-aemond is the tall, sexy, mysterious one and you're his sunshine gremlin who's ready to throw hands for your man
-"y/n, last night you were like a wild animal, you frightened me.... do it again" IS SO AEMOND CODED IM SORRY HE SAYS THIS KINDA OUTTA POCKET SHIT IN FRONT OF ALICENT AND SHES LIKE PLS
-if you have kids, turns your son into a miniature him (similar to wednesday/morticia), but you're still the favorite parent skskksk
-he's always waxing poetic about you, spouting of sonnets he's written for you entirely in high Valyrian or French, the man is exceedingly intelligent and loves to show off about it (and you)
-also likes to dance with you in public, something very sexy like a rumba because he lives to make people uncomfortable
-"look at her, I would kill for her, I would die for her, either way what bliss" is a Gomez line but definitely one aemond says about you
-loves visiting the graveyard plot you have purchased for when you die and romanticizes the fact that the two of you will be together, your bodies rotting beside each other for all eternity
-if you start a duel to the death for him, he's just gonna drag you out not because he doesn't want you to fight but because it just turns him on so much and he needs to make love to you like right then and there
-a total romantic, and will remain absolutely in love with you forever
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lovesickry · 6 months
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- let the light in.
┈⋆⭒ lando norris x rival femdriver!reader [2.4k] ┈⋆⭒ part 3 !
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contains: 18+, smut, swearing, angst, handjob LOL .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: sorry for my little hiatus I was really trying to think about what im trying to do with this story. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ comment if you wanted be added to taglist
by all accounts Spain had been...interesting. considering the close proximity in which you came into with a certain man by which you (or at least thought) certainly disliked.
A sense of unease followed you in the coming week, a kind of distrust. With yourself? It was an odd feeling, unlikely to be exactly pinpointed so it was more or less thrust far back into your mind, his lingering, burning touch hopefully soon forgotten.
You were eager to more or less throw yourself into training, it was Monaco after all, the race every driver wanted to win. You were not an exception.
-
You saw Danny for dinner on Tuesday and it was actually very refreshing, you had taken some convincing (done by yours truly) to actually attend, by in doing so you did actually have a good time. He was Danny Ric of course you were gonna have a good time. Anyway, you were walking around Monaco much too late, talking about the season and actively trying to avoid any talk about his current teammate. He mentioned he was worried about you. 
“Why?”
“Oh just you know, sometimes I see a bit of myself in you and I know how I can get.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed, he cared so much. Danny had never been your teammate but youd drifted together through one force or the other and he'd been nothing but nice to you. You understood where he was coming from, you guess you were similar, the same kind of persistent optimism, sarcasm, devotion, not knowing when to stop pushing, problems of burning out etc; 
“I’m fine”
He waits for you to continue, you do.
“I mean, I think, it's just all a lot. I've wanted to be in Formula One for as long as I can remember and now that I’m here, it's still like everyday I'm fighting to be here. And it's not all just about being a girl either, like most of it is but still. It's like there's something inside me that's almost contradicting my existence, like I'm not meant to be here. It's pushing me forward and also pulling me back. I don't know how to explain it.”
You take a deep breath and try to keep your voice steady as you continue.
“There's just so much that I want to achieve and I don't even think I believe I can do it.”
Your voice wobbles only slightly as you pause walking and look at him, suddenly breathless.
He looks at you with so much understanding you could break down into tears. He extends an arm and pulls you into a side hug as he continues down the street slowly walking. 
“I think when you first do this that's how everyone feels, like they’re lying to themselves or that they don’t deserve it, but believe me when I tell you Dylan you are so deserving, more than so many drivers and you will get there. The isolation will dissipate and your body will realign and you’ll know what to do and how to do it and you’ll truly believe in yourself and your life won't be pushing and pulling at you anymore, i know its hard and i hate to say it, but time is truly your best friend in shit like this.”
You don't know how danny seemed to always know what to say but the words he spoke resonated with you and made something click, the rest of the walk home was lighter as you reached your hotel just after midnight, saying goodbye to Danny and watching him walk off into the lit streets of Monaco, quiet, peaceful and picturesque. You were amongst the other drivers who didn't (yet) live in Monaco, but you loved every moment you visited. Yes it was a posh persons wet dream, but it was undeniably beautiful in every part and you loved the safeness as a woman too. Though you'd have to admittedly work on your french.
When Thursday rolled around and you had to go to the track, ending your period of peace, it was  gratefully uneventful, not once did you see who you had prayed you wouldn’t and that was enough to leave the paddock with a smile. Friday was less than satisfying however, achieving not even in the top 10 in either practices. Saturday and Sunday, were thankfully a different story, you had qualified well, pulling your car into P4. You were happy, the car was happy and you were focused, the chat with Danny had made you in some way looser? 
You had mixed emotions about the part of the day in which you would attend the drivers parade. On one hand you could argue that it was a bit of a break from the seriousness, a time where drivers genuinely just chat shit while people look on and occasionally get asked questions, but on the other you could also argue that its kinda pointless and stupid. Regardless all the drivers piled into the moving vehicle and settled into a chatter of conversation in their respective “groups”. Just by your luck, as you eased into a conversation with Danny and George, Lando decided to join in. You didn’t ignore the look up and down he gave you before swiftly intervening in the conversation. For some reason the minute Lando joined in you were mute, not cintrivuting to the conversation in the slightest bit, other than nudging Danny every now and again to point something/someone out. You spoke few words with Lando present and even fewer when prompted by him to speak. At a point George simply dragged you away and talked to you one of one to save the awkward silence that seemed to surround the you and Lando. You had never found George unattractive, but at the same time you werent attracted to him either, which you thought in the moment he wasnt understand, as everything he said he would lean closer, almost intimate. Not too obvious, not romantic, but obvious enough, atleast to you and the eyes that you felt bore into the back of your head from a certain McLaren driver. Waling through the paddock following the drivers parade was always an ordeal, fans were out and you signed caps and shirts and skin and took photos, before finally making it anywhere near your garage. That was a part of the fun honestly, you always thought: The fans. You hear familiar voices and try not to eavesdrop, though subconsciously straining to hear, it's muffled and you only make out. “Shes not” “Dude” “fuck” “embarassing” “gross” “come on?” “you jealous?” your spying however is put to an end when none other than George Russel and Lando Norris round the corner to where you stood or recently stood, because as soon as you heard shuffling you resumed movement so they didn’t know that you were really just standing there listening to whatever the fuck they were saying.
“Speak of the devil” Lando says with a smirk.
You don't fully register the meaning behind that line however, still relishing in the fact they didn't know of your habit to eavesdrop. 
“You're such a twat” George says, and more or less storms off.
You watch as he goes, still silent and then turn towards Lando. 
“You’re actually such a dickhead ”
Lando scoffs before continuing.
“I was the one defending your dignity, George was drooling at you, its embarrassing”
You raise your eyebrows at him
“George?”
“Oh come on you're not that naive, he's so into you it's disgusting.”
“piss off”
“No seriously Mr Russell was in a seductive mood” it's said with an air of humour and you nearly laugh. 
“George was trying to seduce me?” you let a deep breath out of your noise, nearly letting loose a laugh.
“And how exactly would he go about that huh?” you continue sarcastically.
‘Hmmm” his eyebrows straighten and his whole face looks as though it changes composition.
You move to go, sick of whatever the fuck Lando wants to play with you, you round the corner, reaching a small end of a hallway with no current people near and suddenly hes there too. Lips grazing the top of your ear. His body was against yours and radiating with heat, breath fanning your temple. 
“Like this?” his voice is too fucking low, too fucking delicious and your mind is begging for you to succumb, but you cant, you wont.
“Youre a fucking asshole” its said through your teeth and you dont make any action to move your body away from his.
He hummed in response, simply moving his breaths down your neck.
“You mean it?” a smirk paints his face
“I hate you” the words come out more breathless than you'd hoped.
He laughs into the skin of your neck, you're still not moving, unable to move. In fear giving into him. 
You close your eyes in hopes to centre yourself but it's impossible to ignore the heat that seems to surround you, your blood flows like molten lava through your veins and every breath is staggered and fractured. Opening your eyes was a mistake, Lando is looking at you with someone that could be moulded into admiration and his pupils are blown. You can't stop the way your back arches to meet him and suddenly your hands are in his curls and his mouth is on yours. It is so sweet, so filthy, so hateful. The way your mouths are moving against each other, his hands grasping at your back while you pull at his hair, you notice as you pull away the way he bites his lip, as if to not make any noise. 
Well that's rich, he doesn't get to pretend he hasn't been the one chasing after you, acting all shitty just cause you’ve been the only girl not to fall to your feet at the sight of him.
He deserved a taste of his own medicine, you moved your lips off his and his eyes widened slightly thinking you're stopping whatever this was. Not yet. You move your lips down to his necks and begin to kiss him until you reach where he tenses at, figuring that's your best shot. You find the spot just above his clavicle and he inhales sharply before biting his lip. You were getting somewhere, focusing on this singular spot had Lando more desperate than before, biting so hard on his lip you thought it might bleed and gripping your waist so tightly you thought it might bruise if he adjusted his grip anymore. 
The next idea that hit you was albeit self-indulgent but you thought would get your point across, or atleast suffice some of Lando’s infatuation with you just enough to clear your mind of him.
While one of your hands holds firmly his curls while you kiss his neck fervently, your other hand drops down further, trailing over the muscle that lay taut and hot underneath his fireproofs. His throat bobbed and he threw his head back only slightly, making an incoherent noise that made you smile against his neck, his control lost and gained so fast. Soon after your other hand left the back of his head, he dropped it onto your shoulder, still fiercely remainly quiet as you moved the other hand down his back, both hands reached under the material at the same time and his body was hotter than you had ever thought possible, retaining so much heat you are surprised there wasn't some kind of steam coming off of his skin. You pull his race suit down lower so it meets his middle thighs, his forehead still resting on your shoulder, keeled over. Pulling the material of his fireproofs up so you could actually see the muscle that was residing under there was fucking awe-inspiring, the small gap that you allowed yourself to see, breathing hard and fast, watching the muscle, the skin go out and in which each breath, you were nearly hypnotised. 
“Im not gonna fucking beg tait”
His voice is rough but fractured and static, not portraying the toughness you think he’d like it too. It's your turn to hum in response as you move your hands achingly lower to where he is painfully and unbearingly hard for anything you do. The minute your hand makes contact with the sensitive skin he gasps, you relish in the noise and you slowly move your hand around him, gathering the pre cum that coats the tip and focusing on it, slow moments make him shake and he's suddenly making small, consistent noises that only egg you on more. You hated to admit that the power in the movement was absolutely superb, enough to ignore the ache between your own legs. You twist your hand slightly causing a strangled groan to come from Lando followed by a “fuck you” though its not too aggressive. You speed it up and soon he's breathing too fast, his eyes are fluttering and he’s so close. You position your hand and fingers at just the right part of him and he's coming hard and fast and hot and heavy in your palm. Followed by a deep, long breath and then a swift laugh. Lando Norris just came in your hand in his fucking racesuit. If that wasn’t karma that while he sung the national anthem he’d have cum in his fucking pants you didnt know what was. 
“That's for the crash and all the shit in the press.” you know how it must sound, that you'd just jerked him off and now you're labelling it as payback, but to the relationship that you both held it was pretty much just that. You slip out from under him, smoothing your hair and wiping your hands on his race suit. His face has fallen and hasn't moved, though he moves his arm to steady himself. 
You don't look back as you finally walk out of the corner of that measly little hallway, grateful that nobody happened upon you two. 
“Fuck you” its quiet but loud enough to hear and its almost….whiny? 
The ache between your legs has dissipated by the time you climb into the car, eager to get anything else into your head than the one that had been resting on your shoulder that day. 
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tag list:
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doromoni · 6 months
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Initial Start | CL16
Charles Leclerc x PR! reader
warnings: implied intention of cheating
requested : yes/no
masterlist
Summary: the collision and a bracelet that started it all for Charles Leclerc
2019, French GP
~'Y/N"~
The sound of engines roaring was deafening , but it couldn't beat the thumping of my heart as I felt it in my chest. Interning for a world class race team did that to you, nerves bouncing off every circuit turn as I watched our team's drivers speed at an average of 220 mph, the constant droning of instructions from engineers and driver radios filled the room. I could only pray that no accidents were to happen, the team cannot handle another media roar; no, not after last season. I was stationed at the very back of the garage, along with Melanie, Mclaren's PR executive who was violently tapping her foot waiting for both cars to cross the chequered flag. A sigh of relief escaped both our mouths as Carlos zoomed past the line, and then Lando moments after. The team clapped and cheered as both drivers finished, and even managed to earn points.
Melanie gave me a nod and signalled for us to head to the front of the garage and meet and brief both drivers for their media schedule. Seidl, gave us a small smile as we walked past him and the group of engineers who were still doing final checks and ecstatic mechanics who's jobs are made easier as both cars have not faced major damages in this race.
My lips bloomed into a grin as I spotted in the distance, both Mclaren drivers who I've become very fond of, making their way towards the garage. Giddy and distracted with joy, not being able to contain my elation to congratulate both with a hug, I bounced into a jog , not noticing the flash of red moving by my peripherals.
"Ow" I muttered as I rubbed my shoulder, rolling and twisting at the joint to ease the pain. A hand was then at my face, forcing me to look up, then I saw him. The greenest of eyes, yellow circled its center, sparkling in the sun and the deepest sets of dimples I have seen and a set of furrowed eyebrows, as worry spread all over your face. Lips moving but nothing registers in my head, only a name . Charles Leclerc.
Shaking out of my stupor, realizing that he was offering his hand for me to stand, only now comprehending that I was at the floor while he was bent down and was asking if I were okay.
"Hey, I'm so sorry, are you alright? " he muttered , hand still extended. Quickly nodding and accepting his offered hand, I stood up and dusted my pants.
Noticing that people were staring, "Thank you , and I'm so sorry... uh goodbye" I said, red from embarrassment  and offered a quick bow as I proceeded towards the Mclaren drivers – who now sported  the same worried expression as the ferrari driver. Making an im ok face and pulling both drivers away from the scene, making an effort not to look back and search for the most angelic eyes i've ever witnessed up close.
~'Charles"~
"And that is P3, Charles! Congratulations" the radio buzzed as Jock, my engineer cheered. A smile spread through my face as the adrenaline pumped through my veins as I passed through the chequered flag. Another frequency followed  "Let's bring it back safely, well done" , schooling my voice, and clicking the radio button I quickly replied " Copy guys, Thank you everybody! Merci! "
Parking my car in the P3 space, another grin plastered on my face as I witnessed my team jumping and cheering for me behind the barrier. Quickly removing my helmet and balaclava, I sprinted and jumped towards the awaiting arms of the ferrari crew. Several congratulations from all over showered me, some being muffled by the loudness of the cheer from the crowd.
After race interviews are always a blur of congratulations and questions, But nevertheless  part of the contract. I took time to talk to the drivers who were on the podium with me, sharing our congrats and a few laughs. And before I knew it , we were sent to our garage to prepare for the podium ceremony.
A bit drunk from ecstasy and the gradual disappearance of adrenaline, I did not notice the body barreling towards my side with speed, until I felt a slight pain on my arm and heard a small "Oof" below. Only to realise that I had bumped into somebody, feeling immediately sorry,  as the pain is worse for them than me. The person was obviously smaller and weaker than me as they were on the floor whilst I kept standing.
A girl clothed in orange, black and blue, the colors of Mclaren – with a distinct straight dark chestnut brown hair cropped to her chin; hair covering her face as she rubbed and rolled her shoulder muttering a small "Ow" . Feeling even worse, I quickly bent down and offered my hand and apology. At the sight of my hand she finally raised her head and I was stunned at the sight.
Big doe eyes, slightly slanting on both sides, the color of ink at first glance but the hue of the richest caramel and toffee when lit by the sun – now glazed with unshed tears. The most adorable of noses, small as a button tinged red from pain and the sun. Lips slightly parted , a plump pair with the upper lip slightly fuller than the bottom – remnants of gloss leftover and a small puncture wound on the bottom left; I could only assume it is a nervous habit of hers, as she briefly bit her lip before parting. Beautiful...
Shaking my thoughts, I quickly spoke "Hey, I'm so sorry, are you alright? " hand still offered. She nodded and took my hand, soft but a few calluses on areas that littered areas most of my friends have... golf perhaps?. Pulling both of us up , she dusted off her pants. Head shooting up, her widened eyes meeting mine again for a second . She then quickly uttered a soft thanks and apology.
"Thank you , and I'm so sorry... uh goodbye". Her voice was smooth and sweet  with a tinge of rasp, a unique blend of accents that I could not pinpoint. Before I could even reply, she made a short bow and walked towards the two mclaren drivers, I only now noticed. As fast as she appeared , she left, not once looking back . 
Sighing, I proceeded to walk towards Ferrari's garage, but abruptly stopped when I spotted a simple gold bracelet on the floor . Picking it up and giving it a glance – when my name was called from the Ferrari garage, I shouted a quick acknowledgement and jogged towards the open steel door. Looking back at the bracelet, engraved on it are small initials, y/n l/n . Was this bracelet hers? I should probably give this back, it looks sentimental. Another shout told me to move quicker , not wanting to be late for the podium. I pocketed the bracelet and made a mental note to find her in Mclaren and return the bracelet , surely we'll see each other again . I know that I could ask my PR manager to give it back , but I personally wanted to return it and possibly even talk with the captivating stranger.
2022, Bahrain GP
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~'Charles'~
"Shit, shit, shit...." I fumbled and flipped my driver room upside down trying to find it. Where the hell did I place it?! Not giving up, I continued to search every corner trying to find my lucky charm. I cannot drive without it on me, "MERDE!" I cannot help but shout as my annoyance started to get the better of me. How could I even misplace something so important? Running my hand through my hair exasperated , a huff of disbelief escaped my mouth.
Spiralling thoughts were cut short as I heard several quick knocks come at my door. Still annoyed , A gruff and agitated "what" broke my silence. The door opened revealing my now teammate, the Spanish native driver, Carlos Sainz .
"Are you ok? You sounded angry"  He muttered , his eyes widening as he took in the state of my room. A tense sigh was all I could muster. "Clearly not .... " he trailed quietly as he stepped into the room and quietly closed the door making sure no camera was near.
"What happened ... was it, you know? " He said softly, he did not ask because he already knew my answer. I nodded, my long term relationship with my girlfriend is falling into ruins and it is tearing me to shreds, not many know this,  only my closest friends and family are aware, and I intend to keep it that way.
"No, there is more, " The Spaniard  pressed. A smile passed my lips as it amazes me how our bond has grown in the span of a year alone in Ferrari, he already knew my telltale signs .
"I cannot find the lucky bracelet , it's not in my pocket" I said defeated as I sat at the chair near me. This will be the very first race that I will not have near me, the bracelet that reminded me of the year that I got my first podium under Ferrari, the only reminder that the girl with Toffee eyes and chestnut short hair was not a part of my imagination, but reality.
It was after the podium celebration of the 2019 French GP , that I was able to find myself walking towards the Mclaren motorhome to return the bracelet that sat securely in my pocket. Only to find the majority of the motorhome empty, spare few who are still at the front desk. I was informed that an emergency meeting was called upon the Mclaren headquarters and most have already left the circuit. Saying my thanks, leaving the building with a reminder to go back to the next race . Time was fast and it was already the Austrian GP, having the bracelet again in my pocket,  yet she was not there . Not a hair of chestnut could be seen, not in the next race , or the next , or the next, till it had been a year and a sight of her was nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless , the bracelet had been a permanent resident in my pocket , as I had hoped to return it one day. Then another year passed, still no luck , and at this point the gold bracelet with the initials y/n l/n had become my lucky charm that accompanied me in every race, stored safely in my right pocket.
"You mean the bracelet that you thought that you had lost during Monaco last year?" Carlos replied confused. Again, I only nodded, in fact it was not lost then I just placed it in the wrong pocket , and when I reached for it in its usual spot, finding it not there made me panic and lose control. Letting out yet another heavy sigh and running a hand on my face, looking up at Carlos – who was giving me the weirdest look.
"What's that look for?" I asked tiredly. A few seconds after, confusion was replaced with a smirk .
"The bracelet that you insisted be found at all costs and asked to be made into a necklace, because you didn't want to lose it again? " Realisation dawned on me like a  bucket of cold water . Quickly reaching for my neck a wave of relief washed over me as I felt the cold burn of the metal on my fingertips as I fiddled on it , making sure that it was real. A quiet curse left my lips as the Spaniard only laughed at me. Giving a playful glare at my teammate as I hid the bracelet – now necklace, back into my fireproof shirt.
Shaking my head after the initial scare, I remembered that Carlos was shouting something at the door before he entered. "So , what do I owe you the pleasure of you knockin on my door" I asked as I started to fix the damage i had done to the room
"I said that I need you to come out and meet somebody" He says as he leaned on the closed door. "Now? Who? You do realise that we are expected to be in our cars in like 20 minutes" I said looking at the clock on the wall. He rolled his eyes and nodded yes.
"Yes, right now! We found a PR executive to replace Felicity ... well for the mean time" I gave him a "really" look, couldn't we meet after the race?  Sensing my thoughts, He answered "Yes you could meet later, but No. Look, this person is actually really important to me so please meet her now, she's already outside talking to the engineers"  Seeing the sincerity of the Spaniard, I gave up and nodded my head. A huge smile spread on his face, as he pulled me by the arm towards the female whose back was towards us talking with one of Carlos' engineers.
"Y/N!" Carlos suddenly shouted, making the woman turn towards the voice that called her name, a smile plastered on her face.
Stopping in my tracks , as shock and disbelief covered my face. It's her ... 
The glowing smile only grew on her face as the Spanish driver pulled me further towards her.
She looked the same, yet different , more mature,  an air of elegance radiating off her — hair is still short, but now styled perfectly as one side fell longer on her face. But her eyes ... still the same, big and doe. The hue of caramel and toffee, disguised as ink by the absence of light. The color that I searched for years.
The cold metal hanging on my neck now feels heavier and even burning further, the initials branding my skin.
"Charles, meet Y/N L/N, our new PR executive"
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multifanhoe99 · 6 months
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Kinktober Day 3- Lingerie
This is gonna be self-indulgent as hell and I am not sorry but also I hope you enjoy it!
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Pairing: non-idol!JB x afab!Reader
Warnings: Pet names (Daddy, Princess, Baby), mentions of panty stealing, mentions of masturbation, oral (fem. receiving), PIV intercourse, creampie (fem. receiving), no condom (be safe out there y'all), spanking, hair pulling
=Please let me know if I missed any.=
PROMPT LIST
MASTERLIST
~18+ MDNI ~
It was not often that you wanted to buy fancy things. Even less often the fancy stuff you happen to buy turns out to be something sexy to wear for your husband. This time you couldn't help it. One day in your boredom you decided to do some online shopping and found a gorgeous lacey emerald green set that you knew would look amazing against your skin tone. Even better it was on sale! One night's bored purchase is another night's fun. Honestly, you had almost completely forgotten you bought it until it came in the mail today. It was a pleasant surprise, a gift from your past self and you couldn't help but be thrilled. Just then you got another idea. You were going to make an event of it. You had the day off to relax anyway why not make it worthwhile. With that determination in mind, you went to take a shower to get ready for what you had planned. After your shower, you applied some light makeup and fixed your hair into neat french braids that finished off as low pigtails. He liked your hair like that for very obvious reasons. Then you put on the new lingerie set you bought. On top of it, you put on the dress you know he loves seeing you in the most. It's a long red sundress with flowers on it and a slit that goes up the middle rather than down the side. Once you were all dolled up and ready you decided to head to the kitchen to fix up his favorite meal and to set the table like they would in a restaurant.
When you were finally done you sent a quick text to your husband, -I have a surprise for you when you get home! I hope you like it I love you. See you soon!- You knew he should be on his way home by now and the notification would come up on the dash screen of his car. A few minutes later you get his reply, - I can't wait! I am almost home. I love you too!- It was exciting waiting in anticipation for him to come home. Not even five minutes later while you were putting the finishing touches on the meal you heard the front door open and close. You went out to greet him, "Hello my love how was work?"
"Ah, you know same old-," he pauses when he finally looks up from taking off his shoes to switch to his house slippers, "Wow, what's the special occasion that my beautiful wife feels the need to make my knees weak."
"There is no special occasion I just felt like pampering my handsome husband because he's been working extra hard lately," you replied moving closer to give him a kiss. He instantly returned the kiss and placed his hands on your hips. Before the kiss could get any more heated you pulled away, "Dinner is ready in the kitchen. I made your favorite."
"Have I ever told you that I love you," he asks following you into the kitchen/dining room.
"Only every single day Jae," you respond with a giggle at his affection. No matter how long you two have been together Im Jaebum gives you butterflies like it's still the very first date. Upon seeing the spread you had laid out on the table he came up to hug you from behind and whispered in your ear, "So you did all of this just because I have been working extra hard? I feel like you are planning something, Princess."
"What I can't just want to do something nice for you," you ask trying not to give your true intentions away.
"Okay, I will believe you for now. Let's eat then," he says giving you one more kiss on the head before going to sit down. You both enjoy your meal together and he helps you clean up. When everything was cleaned and put away you went up to JB and wrapped your arms around his neck. He placed his hands back on your hips. You lean closer to whisper in his ear again, "There is more to your surprise. Join me in the bedroom will you?"
"See I knew you were up to something," he says with a smile but follows you to the bedroom anyway. You sit him down on the edge of the bed and tell him to close his eyes. Once you are sure he isn't peeking you remove the dress you were wearing and throw it into the hamper in the corner of the room. You let him know that he can open his eyes and when he does you don't fail to notice the way his eyes darken when they look at you. His expression shifts from one of pure admiration to something darker and full of lust. You can hear it in the timber of his voice when he says, "Come here princess let daddy get a closer look at you."
You can't help but do what he asks this was your plan after all and you couldn't be more glad that it worked. As you step closer he places his hands on your thighs. It is gentle at first and then he moves up higher. Wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer so he can see as he moves his hands up to your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. Then he lands a sharp spank on your left cheek and soothes it by rubbing his hand softly over the spot. "Look at you, baby. You look so good for me all wrapped in lace like this. I will try not to ruin it while I am busy fucking you into oblivion," he growls from his position below you. From that same position, he lifts you up with no issues and tosses you gently onto the bed so that you're lying on your back.
He takes his sweet time kissing and nipping at your inner thighs. He makes his way so slowly to the place you need him most. You can feel how wet you are just from this and he hasn't even properly started yet. You know that he is doing this on purpose and are sure this was his own plan ever since he became suspicious of you planning something. He was moving so slowly and so gently and you knew that he could see how much it affected you from the ever-growing wet patch on your new panties. "Da-daddy please don't tease me anymore I c-can't take it. I need you please," you beg gasping when he nips just a little bit harder at your most sensitive parts.
"That's it, baby beg for me. Beg for me to use this pretty little pussy however I want," he replies finally giving you some type of relief by rubbing a thumb up and down your covered folds. He continued that for a little while longer and then gave in at the sound of your desperate moans. He pulled the panties down your legs and once they were fully off he shoved them into the pocket of his slacks. You already struggled to think and he was only getting started. It only got worse when he finally gave your pussy the attention you wanted him to. He licked a long stripe up your glistening folds humming in satisfaction at your taste.
"What do you think princess should I take my time eating you out until you cum again and again on my face or would you just like me to get you ready enough to take my cock," he asks. It was getting hard to form words. The combination of his tongue and his two fingers that joined shortly after his question was blurring your mind with pleasure. He stops all movement to say, "Come on baby use your words. Already so fucked dumb and I have barely even done anything yet. What do you want you can say it."
"I w- I want to-to-to- wanna get ready for daddy's cock," you say barely able to string the sentence together. Jaebum had a way of doing that to you and you loved it. You loved being able to give yourself over to the pleasure he brought you and he loved it too. Hearing your answer JB dove in like a man starved. After so many years he knew your body like nobody else and he knew exactly what to do to bring you over the edge. His mouth licking your sensitive clit and his middle and ring fingers plunging deep into you. Every time you'd touch yourself when he wasn't around you could never get your fingers to go as deep as his. He brought you ecstasy like nothing else. You could feel yourself getting closer.
"Daddy I am so close please can I cum I really wanna cum on your face please please, please," you begged almost crying.
"Cum baby cum all over my face and then again one more time on my cock after," he said temporarily removing his mouth from your clit and then going right back. When he replaces his mouth you feel yourself let go coming all over his face and fingers. It feels so good but you know you aren't done yet. He wastes no time moving away to remove his own clothes and then flipping you over. He pulls your hips up and once he has the right position he slides right in. He gives you enough time to adjust to him and as soon as he's sure you're okay he sets a fast pace. At first, his hands are on your hips giving your ass harsh slaps every so often that make you yelp and moan at the painful pleasure. Then his hands move to your hair each hand taking one of the pigtails and then pulling back making your back arch and he is able to hit a new deeper angle. He can feel you tightening around him and he knows you're close again which is good because so is he. He leans down into your ear, "That's it, baby just a little more, and then let's cum together yeah?"
He keeps up this pace and it is only a matter of time before you're falling off the edge cumming all over his cock and he follows seconds after. Cum spurting out in thick ropes into you. It takes a moment for you both to calm down but when you finally do he goes to the bathroom to get a warm rag to clean you up. "That was amazing and you should online shop more often if this is what it leads to," he jokes.
"Yeah I will get right on that," you respond with a laugh. He helps you clean up, take your make-up off, and let your hair down. You both fall asleep in each other's arms after exchanging a sincere 'I love you' and you couldn't be happier to end your day with him.
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A/N: HOLY COW!!! I am so sorry for being so late on this one but like I said it was really self-indulgent and I definitely got super carried away. Luckily day 3 is done and day 4 will be out later today so as a bonus for this one being late you technically get two in one day! HOORAY!
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