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qierxing · 7 months

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A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.

TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”

“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”

— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

vi. Mourning

It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.

Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.

So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly.

It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.

Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.

"Hey Ace?"

He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.

"Do you…like…being my friend?"

The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.

"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.

Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back.

"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"

Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."

He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.

"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far."

What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.

Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.

Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.

"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.

Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.

"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?"

Another question out of left field.

"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke.

"Yeah…" they murmur back.

"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.

"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"

"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"

Yuu shakes their head.

"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"

Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."

But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.

He should've known something was up since that night.

When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual.

"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.

The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.

Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-

-then what had he done?

When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that.

The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"

Bang! Bang!

He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.

"Yuu–!"

"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-

"Ace, look at me!"

He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.

There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while.

"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.

"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.

Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.

"What do you mean they're–"

"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."

Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–

He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.

He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"

"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."

And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.

He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.

Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.

But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.

Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.

Please let this be a bad dream.

He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things!

Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-

Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone.

Ace tried two more times to meet you.

First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.

The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.

Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).

It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.

He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter.

And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.

vii. Embalming

The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.

That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.

Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.

No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.

The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough.

He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.

It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now.

What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly.

The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.

It has your face. It acts like you.

But it's not you.

When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”

“You were so sure only because of that?”

He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.

But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.

Grim is missing again.

This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.

But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First].

The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).

But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.

The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.

“Go away.”

Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.

“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu.

“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”

“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”

His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.

“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”

He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”

“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”

“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.

“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”

It bursts into laughter at his face.

“Why, I only granted their wish!”

Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.

What did you wish for?

It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon.

In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations.

And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.

Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.

“Come in.”

A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.

“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in.

“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.

“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.

“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out.

"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.

“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.

“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”

He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”

Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation.

For once, he starts to resent not having more.

"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"

This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.

"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"

"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance.

"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes.

"Not the weird rules again…"

"Ace."

"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."

"You better, or else it's–"

"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…

Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander.

Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?

"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.

"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts.

“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”

“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”

For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.

“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.

But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in.

“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.

“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”

viii. Calling Hours

“I’m not joking around, you two.”

There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.

“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”

“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”

The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.

“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”

“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”

"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"

It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.

“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”

Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"

"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally."

Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."

The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.

"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.

"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."

Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.

A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.

"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"

"Don't even start." Trey groans.

Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—

A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."

Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement.

"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"

Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."

Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."

"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.

"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."

"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."

Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?

He supposes that was his fault, though.

"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"

The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."

Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."

"Yeah, but look how that turned out."

"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"

Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash.

"Cater."

There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔😶'

"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.

"Please don't lie to me next time."

With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen.

Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.

Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?

It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.

It's just not fair.

Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-

He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.

He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.

Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.

There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.

“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.”

The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.

“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”

“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.

It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.

There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt.

Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough.

Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?

Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?

His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him.

"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"

You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards.

"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.

"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?"

Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."

The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…

But satisfaction brought it back.

viiii. Eulogy

It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.

That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.

Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.

“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him.

The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors.

“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.

“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)

“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”

Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved.

Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.

“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”

Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day.

He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?

Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”

“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”

Trey swallows hard.

“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”

“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”

He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.

Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.

—

Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).

But he worries.

Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges.

It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.

Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down.

He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.

As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.

If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants.

Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.

So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him.

He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute.

You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.

The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.

Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate.

The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes.

His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily.

He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other.

You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air.

What was that?

x. Entombment

It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.”

Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”

“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear.

Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.

His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.

“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back.

“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”

“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.”

Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.

“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.

“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.

It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace—he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…

“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.

“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary.

What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.

Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.

He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.

—

It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago.

To never get on Cater’s bad side.

There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you.

Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.

"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"

Deuce's neck prickles.

"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.

"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.

"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says.

“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”

“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.”

Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed.

“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”

“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.

“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”

“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”

Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak.

“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.

“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”

“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”

Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam.

“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone.

Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.

He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking.

Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #my works #damn this is the most ive ever written.....insane

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sungbeam · 9 months

Text

nonidol!kim sunwoo x f!reader

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

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

▷ word count. 28.7k help TT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sunwoo’s phone: yes or no

tree rat: no

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He reddened. The crosswalk turned green.

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

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

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

EPISODE TWO: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY.

three months later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The notification… the tweet…

Oh no.

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

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

"How bad?" He asked.

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

"I'm—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dude," he said out loud to himself.

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

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

A guy could dream though, right?

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

Wednesday. Today was Wednesday.

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo?”

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

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

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

“Get scared easy?” You offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE THREE: HEART TO HEART

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yah! Nobody asked for specifics!"

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

Changmin snickered. "Chicken."

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

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

A guy could dream, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anonymous: yeah fs haha

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

"Oh! Yeah, haha, sorry about that—”

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh oh,” Sunwoo joked.

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

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

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

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

“But!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anon: yeah nothing really serious lol

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he a dance major?”

rhapsody anon: he is

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

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

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

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

Oh, right. Sunwoo bit his lip.

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

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

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

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

“Even you?”

rhapsody anonymous: esp me

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

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

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

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

“Someone just needs to tell Ouyang to chill!”

“Uh-huh.”

“For sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Us.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my gosh, Yn?”

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

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

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

Wonder what that was all about…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a true story,” he insisted.

“Oh, I believe you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What'd you say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leaned in. "Yeah, I remember."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

sunwoo’s phone: YAH!!! OH MY GOD STFU

eric 🤨: no.

EPISODE FIVE: LOTS OF THINGS BLOOM IN SPRING

“SO her name is DJ Dove?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hiding that you know it’s her.”

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Civility is overrated!"

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

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

You. Oh my god, you were here.

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

"Sunwoo, hey—oh!"

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

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

Fuck. He hadn't thought this one through.

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

Pretty…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE SIX: AND THE MUSES ARE OFF!

"IT'S not a date!"

"It's a date!"

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

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

"Hey!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He caught your smile from the corner of his eye.

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you know the lyrics?"

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

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

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

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

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

A smile bloomed on your face. "Excellent."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For what?"

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

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

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

"Ah." You could empathize.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed. "Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

YOU had been keeping a secret.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This might sound weird—"

"Uh-huh."

"—but are you Rhapsody Anonymous?"

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

“No, not really.”

“What’s a podcast?”

You huffed. “Sunwoo—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sat up. “What do you—”

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

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

“You’re not an idiot.”

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

“Superstar?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(He should not have spoken so soon.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sunwoo, I can't—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE EIGHT: SWERVE LIKE A CHICKEN

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

han !!: okay bye chicken

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

han !!: 🐓🐓🐓

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

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

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

"That's actually so incorrect—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think so, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Still?"

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

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

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

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

Eric cooed. “Aw, you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

Coffee. You liked coffee, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"—wait, Yangyang—"

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo pressed himself against the wall he was peering around.

Oh.

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

Disappointment—yeah, that was disappointment.

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

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

It rang twice. "Yo."

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

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

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

"I'm coming over."

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

EPISODE NINE: [YELLS.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo looked up.

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

It was stupid. Yeah… it was stupid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made him feel strange again.

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo promptly smacked Eric's hand away.

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

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

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

Changmin scratched behind his ear and grabbed sauce trays from the end of the table to pass down to everyone else. "That was before she started hanging out with you some more. What is your point?"

They all made excellent points, he thought. That afternoon he'd seen you and Yangyang, he'd gone to meet Changmin in one of the dance practice rooms. After that, he'd gone home to yell into his pillow until his throat burned. Eric had muttered something about Sunwoo being dramatic and summoned JC!Yn over to the apartment to deal with him.

Sunwoo had just been bummed. He didn't even know if bummed was a strong enough word.

"I'm just scared of getting hurt, I guess," he finally admitted, meekly.

The table quieted to allow him room to speak his mind, and even Chanhee put his phone away to give him his full attention now. It wasn't often Sunwoo wore his heart on his sleeve like this, and it wasn't easy either. For anyone. Admitting to his fears in the middle of a Chinese restaurant while five of one's friends listened in was intimidating, but it was comforting to know that these friends he kept would find a way to support him. Even if he was being stupid, their tough love was out of desire to look out for him.

When he was done, Changmin clasped a warm hand on his shoulder and his dimple pressed into his cheek. "Sunwoo-yah, I think that you second guess yourself too much and you know that. You're self aware enough to know that you make the mistake of not going for what or who you want."

Sunwoo stared at an impurity in the table. What Changmin was saying hit the nail on the head—it was what happened with the dance showcase, too, and now he was about to let it ruin a friendship he had with a person he cared very much about.

"My advice," Changmin continued, "is to talk to her about what you saw and clarify it. I know it's… I know it's scary thinking you're gonna get hurt again, but I think you'll feel a lot better afterward."

EPISODE TEN: SUPERSTAR, I'M NOT TOO FAR

your phone: hey thanks for the fnf discount last night! sorry i didn't thank u properly before, but yeah, really appreciate it :')

sunshine (sunwoo): it was no problem, dw abt it!

your phone: btw is everything okay? u seem a bit distant lately and i wanted to make sure u were doing alright

sunshine (sunwoo): ah yeah, im sorry :( there's just been some things on my mind

You shot Sunwoo a quick text back to let him know you were here if he wanted anyone to talk to. His text had just come in after you'd sent him a reply in the early evening.

"Yn-ah. Still on your phone, I see?"

You jolted and shoved your device into the pocket of your jeans, smiling sheepishly as Lee Jihoon power-walked into the backstage area with a pen behind his ear and a clipboard in hand. "Hi, Jihoon!" You squeaked.

He lifted his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to come follow him. Since everyone was back from Spring Break, the work for the play being performed was kicked into high gear. Jihoon was a graduate student at the university and a director of the stage here; adding the fact that he majored in the same thing you did also made him one of your favorite mentors ever. The back hallways were bustling with costumes, props and other assorted technicians while most of the actors were either in the main backstage area or onstage proper with the play director, HJ!Yn.

You followed swiftly after him and weaved through the people littered about the corridors. "I finished synching the panel back here with the projector in the box," you told him, "though, it's weird that it was ever undone in the first place." You frowned. There had been a lot of strange things happening in the theater lately.

Jihoon gave you a curt nod and set you up in front of one of the house lights panels located in the hallway leading right out to the audience. He pointed at it with the back of his pen. "Yeah, some funky shit's been happening around here," he sighed. "You were here the other night when the speakers were acting weird, right?"

You nodded and let him guide you through navigating this backup panel. "I was. You and Chan seemed really stressed."

"We were," he said, adjusting his cap. "We really do need some more funding to update our equipment—careful, that knob is really sensitive. Good, nice work."

Once you and Jihoon had successfully finished with this panel, you lingered in the hallway for a moment. Normally, you would switch back and forth between shadowing either Chan or Jihoon, and tonight was with the latter. He was going through a couple forms on his clipboard—he must have been reading through them while working tonight.

"You seem distracted tonight, Yn-ie," he said. "Is everything okay?"

Despite being one of the busiest and hardest workers here, Jihoon was also one of the most observant, still. You leaned against the wall next to him, toeing at the floor. "Boys are stupid, right?"

Without hesitation or looking up from his clipboard, he replied, "As a boy, I can confirm."

That made you sputter out a laugh, and you saw him glance up and flash you a smile. When you couldn't find something else to say, he went forth. "I don't know the whole situation, and you don't have to tell me anything. But we guys are a little—" he made a gesture with his hands and wrinkled his nose, "—blind. You probably know that already, but dudes are dumbasses, and sometimes when feelings get in the way, they want to run for the hills.

"But if you think he's worth it, then reach out and be forward with him. And if he cares about you, he'll reach out and be honest," he finished. He let you settle with that thought, let it marinate in your brain to give you something to think about. (As if you didn't have a lot to think about already.)

You pressed your lips together with a slow nod. "Thanks Jihoon."

"Anytime, Yn-ie." He nodded back toward the direction you both had come from. "Let's go back that way, yeah? We've got some more housekeeping to take care of."

— ✶

Sunwoo was in trouble.

"...I thought I'd recommend a song that's been on my mind. I've actually been listening to quite a few Taylor Swift songs recently, especially since she's re-recording all her albums! So here's 'Superstar' from Fearless, Taylor's Version."

He had put your most recent podcast episode on full volume while he made himself dinner. It had been a long day today, and so his automatic thought was to listen to you. But now that he was getting into the meat of the episode, he was quickly coming to realize how much trouble he was in. You were playing the song, and it was a direct call out to him to wake the fuck up.

As the song faded to a close, your voice came back on.

"Actually, I was recommended the song by someone I know," you said in the mellow tone you'd been in for the entire episode so far. "I guess I'm just confused and I was wondering if they really meant what they said."

Sunwoo nearly dropped the egg in his hand onto the kitchen floor. Guilt swirled around in the bubbles of the soup in the pot and he frowned down at the rich, creamy liquid.

He sighed, tapping the egg against the counter and cracking its innards into the pot. "Of course, I really meant it," he said as if you could hear him. He wished he had the guts to tell you everything that was going on in his head… As his soup boiled away, he leaned against the empty counter to wait, cradling his head in his hands, groaning. "You're being unfair, Sunwoo."

"...This one's from Peony! They say: almost didn't realize Rhaps Anon wasn't in the last episode until the very end when we hadn't gotten a rec from them. Hope they're doing okay!" Ah, so you weren't the only one who noticed his brief absence. Your sigh filled the apartment, though, he heard the way you tried to force some kind of cheeriness into it. "Yeah, I hope they're doing okay too. But Rhaps'll be back! Let's all wish them well. Fighting!—"

Oh, man. Now he felt even worse.

He really needed to talk to you. Oh god, he really needed to talk to you. If not to confess, then to clear the air and assure you that all was okay on his end. He was just being a coward, and he knew that well enough now.

When his dinner had finished, Sunwoo turned the flame off and headed for his phone on the opposite counter. He lowered the volume as he went in and pulled up his text thread with you.

sunwoo's phone: hey,, i know ur probs busy w the play this week, but is there a possibility for me to see you sometime soon? i wanted to talk to u abt something

He gnawed on his bottom lip as he awaited your answer, until he realized you were probably working. That made him drop his phone and return to his dinner—maybe he just needed to not look, so his anxiety wasn't so high—

His phone buzzed and he bolted back over.

superstar 💫: i think i'll prob have some time saturday morning

EPISODE ELEVEN: [SOMEONE'S LOOKING OUT FOR YOU, LOSERS.]

YOU asked Sunwoo if he'd like to tag along with you as you did some grocery shopping before rehearsal on Saturday morning. His answer had been automatic, and you both agreed to meet each other at the bus stop to ride down to the larger supermarket down the hill together. Even as you stood at the corner of your street waiting for him beneath the overhang, you were trying to come up with possible things he was going to say to you. You had figured, when he’d texted you Wednesday night, that perhaps the best way to go about this would be to make this casual. Hence, why you were forcing yourself to go grocery shopping a day earlier than you usually did.

Casual, in this case, called for “you don’t have stare me in the eyes the entire time,” and to be frank, you were a little too nervous for that kind of setting anyway.

You tugged the edges of your cardigan over you as you heard your name being called from the opposing street. Sunwoo was bounding his way over to you with his arm raised in greeting. You returned the gesture with a soft smile. “Hey.”

He stopped by you, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gray jacket. “Hi,” he said, licking his lips. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

The bus slowed to a halt in front of your stop, and the two of you retrieved your transportation cards to board. “You say that like I wouldn’t have agreed,” you chuckled and tapped your card, Sunwoo following suit.

The two of you managed to find a pair of empty seats near the second half of the vehicle where the exit was for an easy departure when you reached the foot of the hill. But for now, you tucked your bag onto your lap and settled into the window seat, while Sunwoo occupied the one next to you.

You turned your head to gaze out the window and watch the world blur by as you did. The Avenue streets were a tad narrower than most around the university, so the bus traveled as efficiently as it could from stop to stop before turning the block to make its descent. It was technically still morning, and though it was spring, the sky had decided to blanket the sunshine with gray clouds to form an atmosphere that reminded you distinctly of the past winter quarter. Except, instead of thin, empty branches, the streets and walkways were encased in darkening green leaves and falling pink petals, a nod to the short-lived cherry blossom season. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo’s foot start to tap against the ground like Thumper the Rabbit, and you wondered for the millionth time what was going on in that pretty head of his.

“I don’t really understand,” you found yourself saying—his head swiveled—and you turned to look at him, “did I do something wrong?”

Sunwoo stammered, "What? No, it wasn't you! It wasn't your fault at all—I was just—" he sighed, grimacing to himself. "I was just being stupid. And I know that sounds super vague, but the short answer is that I was being stupid and scared and insecure."

Your brows furrowed and you felt the bus come to a gentle stop at the foot of the hill. "Scared and insecure? What's going on; is everything okay?"

You both got up to make a quick exit off the bus and began making the short walk from the bus station into the outdoor shopping center.

There was a jittery bounce to Sunwoo's steps as well as a tension in his shoulders. "Last week," he began, "Jisung told me that he'd just left you at the practice room and that you were probably going to be there awhile."

You nodded, grabbing a basket at the front of the grocery store. That rang a bell for sure. It had been a very long day in the practice room, so you weren't quite sure what direction this was going in yet.

"Well, I wanted to go surprise you and come hang out with you. You know, like, to keep you company." He started scouring the opposite shelf to you in the dried foods aisle, his eyes nervously darting from the BUY ONE, GET ONE pasta noodles deal signs, to your person. "And when I got there, I saw you and Yangyang."

Me and Yangyang…? Oh, me and Yangyang.

It was like a lightbulb went off in your head, and you stopped pretending to look at the overpriced vermicelli noodles on the shelf behind you.

"And you guys were hugging and close and stuff—and by all means! I—I have no problem with that, of course," he added quickly, "I mean, you guys are really close… friends? And I just saw him lean toward you and left because I… I got the message." The latter portion was delivered in a defeated tone as he looked on toward you helplessly and sorrowfully. It was how Sieun described you Tuesday night when you'd seen Sunwoo at the restaurant: a sad sap.

You both stopped moving down the aisle to face each other. In the white, fluorescent supermarket lights, his hair hung in his eyes like his head in embarrassment. You were going to let him finish.

He cupped the back of his head, suddenly feeling so bare before you despite not being physically naked at all. "I thought some space might distinguish or extinguish my feelings for you," he continued, nose wrinkling and lip curling in a wince. "Clearly it didn't help, and I think overall, I realized I wasn't being fair to you—as a friend. And that I was also being the biggest fucking loser ever."

Wait, you were still reeling from the mentions about feelings—

Before you could even address the aforementioned, you had to make something clear first. You felt the corners of your lips lift. "Sunwoo, me and Yangyang really are just friends." At the confused, puppy-dog look in his eyes, you explained further, "That day, Yangyang came by and I made it clear to him that I just saw him as a friend. I felt really awful for feeling like I'd led him on and was going to lose his friendship."

Sunwoo's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and he struggled to come up with the response he wanted. "So… so when he was leaning in toward you…"

"He leaned in and flicked my nose, then almost gave me a nosebleed," you chuckled. You'd given him a very appropriate flick to the forehead after that.

His eyes widened at that. "Well shit. Are you okay?" He asked, and you saw his smile slowly begin to make its appearance, the sun peeking through an overcast sky.

"Yeah, perfectly fine," you dismissed with a flick of your hand. "Especially now. But yeah, we're just friends."

There was a surge of relief in his tense shoulders. "Oh, okay."

He trailed after you as you continued to make your way down this aisle in particular to pick up the things that were on your shopping list.

At one point, he coughed, handing you the jar of red peppers you were reaching for. "So no hard feelings, right? I promise it will be totally back to normal!"

"Normal, as in back to before?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah! To be honest, Dovey, I was just kind of scared that I had lost my chance after waiting so long. I don't know. And I realized that I was just scared to face that fact."

You gauged his reaction and your own heart thundered in your chest. "Scared to face the fact that you'd lost your chance with me?"

"Well, yeah. I—" He stopped and froze like a deer in headlights. And in any other circumstance, you would have been laughing, but he seemed so distraught by what he just admitted to that you tried hard to suppress your amusement. Tried. "I just said that aloud, huh."

Nodding, you grinned fondly. "You did."

He smiled, cute and flustered, cheeks tinted pink. "You're always too easy a person to talk to," he muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I would've said something sooner…" He began.

Something jumped to attention in your brain. Oh no. "Was I giving you mixed signals?" You pursed your lips like you'd just gotten into something sour. "'Cause I swore I thought my attraction to you was clear. And, like, the thing where I totally began rethinking my thoughts about Yangyang when you came into the picture—"

"Wow, so Changmin was right?" Sunwoo made a face, holding his hand against his forehead. "That's crazy."

"Crazy good or…?"

He chuckled, and you couldn't help but admire the twinkle in his eyes as he did. "Crazy so good."

"I don't think people actually say that."

He whined, "Yah, you can't already be clowning me. Not when I just confessed that I like you."

That made you sober up, but you couldn't say the same for your heart rate. Man, your BPM alone could probably power a bullet train… "I like you, too. I hope that's clear."

There you two stood in the middle of the dried foods aisle with twin smiles glowing on your faces, soft and shared. You didn't know what the BOGO pasta was doing, but it was definitely adding to the atmosphere. You had intended for running errands to distract you from whatever Sunwoo had wanted to talk to you about, but clearly that was not the case—it would have never worked like that. You would be damned to have missed something like this. Not with him.

Perhaps he had made a mistake—he was now apologizing and clarifying and trying. You could hear Jihoon's words of wisdom ring loud and clear in your head. There was something perfectly fine about how this turned out.

"No more mixed signals?"

"No more mixed signals," he agreed.

— ✶

The remainder of your errand run with Sunwoo had gone smoothly, and soon, you were both seated side by side once more on the bus up to the University District. Sunwoo had gotten a couple things for his fridge, too, and so you both sat with your grocery bags by each other and your fingers grazing the other. Ever since you had clarified your position with Sunwoo a little over an hour ago, you had been feeling much lighter, your heart skipping for a different reason. You were back to feeling the giddy excitement you always had around him, and especially since you knew he saw you in exactly the same way.

The two of you shared a laugh as you stepped off the bus and onto your block, grocery bags in hand.

“—I’m being completely serious! Apparently I was just snot-nosed wailing into her shirt about being single and forever alone,” Sunwoo guffawed, grinning wide at you as you both stopped to the side of the walkway. “And Eric was pissed, oh my god.”

“I mean, you just kiss-blocked him; kind of understandable,” you mused.

Sunwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Aye, I know. He’s a good guy though. Total loser, but a good loser. He made me hangover soup the next day.”

You let out a laugh, walking slowly with him down toward the entrance of your apartment complex. "That was sweet of him."

He snorted, "A little out of character, but yeah."

"You know," you piped up, "when I was applying and eventually interviewing for the position with Chan and Jihoon, I had no idea what either of them looked like. So I accidentally—woah, shi—"

Somebody coming down the sidewalk toward you crashed into your shoulder and sent you careening toward the sidewalk. Sunwoo swore as you let out a squeak—his arm looping around your waist and hauling you against him to steady you.

He lifted his head in the direction of the person with a glower on his face. "Hey! Dude, watch where you're going!"

"Thanks," you said sheepishly.

He turned to fix you with a smile, and you saw the moment he realized the position you were both in: you pressed firmly up against the side of his body, his arm wrapped around you, your faces so close to one another… He released his hold on you, neck burning as he cupped the back of it. "Heh, yeah. It's no problem. People should just really watch where they're going."

You coughed and nodded your head. "Yeah, for sure."

The pair of you were now in front of your apartment complex once more, reluctant to say goodbye. You wondered if he would ask to spend more time with you, but you had a feeling that he wouldn't want to intrude on your time any longer. It wasn't like he was intruding to you, but it was just a feeling you had about him. He wanted to respect your time.

And, well, you both had groceries to put away.

"So I'll uh, talk to you soon then?" You asked him, holding your grocery bags in front of you.

He peered at you through his lashes. "Definitely."

"This morning turned out way better than I thought it would, to be honest."

"Yeah no, same here," he echoed. "I'm just glad you actually gave me another chance."

You reached over and gave his shoulder a playful punch. "How could I not? I've always believed in you."

That seemed to ignite something inside of him. He jutted his bottom lip out and whined, "Oh my god, you can't just say that! You're so—wah."

You giggled, watching him squirm like he was being jolted by electricity. "Hey man, sometimes you've gotta be straightforward."

"Yeah, I know." He sobered slightly and took a step forward. Your heart clambered around in your chest and rattled your ribcage. There was this look in his eyes that made you glance at his lips—his perfect, plush, pink lips.

You held still, held your whole fucking breath, as he turned his head and kissed your cheek. It was feather-light, barely there, and yet, all the heat in your body seemed to rush to that single spot in a millisecond.

When he pulled away, his voice was soft. "How's that for straightforward?"

EPISODE TWELVE: ONE LOVE SONG CAN'T CONVEY HOW I FEEL FOR YOU, SO HERE'S TWENTY—

SUNWOO imagined that he looked as cartoonish as any man in love could. There had to be hearts in eyes, hearts around his head, hearts on a glittery pink trail that carried him everywhere he went. He giggled to himself as he fished his house keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door to let himself in.

"Oh my god. We've properly lost him."

With a loud, war-like AHHH!, Sunwoo yelped and nearly dropped his groceries, struggling to hold the bags to his chest as he pressed himself against the back of the front door. His apartment filled with high-pitched cackles of delight.

Though his heart was going through about a million cartwheels a second, he managed to force the fear from his eyes as embarrassment flooded his system. He flared his nostrils, frowning and tipping his head against the door. "I hate you guys!"

"You should hate Eric for giving JC!Yn your apartment key," Changmin wheezed, slapping his hands together and rolling around on the living room carpet as he pointed and laughed at Sunwoo's absolute misery. "You should've seen your face!"

Chanhee was on the couch with his legs curled up into his chest as he had his phone out, recording the entire thing. "This one's going in the drunk Sunwoo folder."

"Yah, I'm not even drunk!"

Chanhee shrugged. "It's become your general meme folder now. We should probably rename it."

Sunwoo whipped his head toward JC!Yn, who was seated on the opposite end of the couch with an amused smile on her face. "Noona! Are you just gonna let them bully me like this?"

Her smile widened. "Sorry, Sunwoo, but we didn't think you would miss us completely when you came in."

He let out a loud groan, fragging himself over to the kitchen so he could set the grocery bags on the counter and begin to unload them. "What're you guys doing here anyways? Isn't it Saturday morning? Where's Kei?" He asked, unloading a carton of juice from the bag and slotting it into the fridge.

Kei was JC!Yn's roommate, and the two girls always went on a grocery shopping date every Saturday morning with Changmin and Chanhee. They often made Changmin drive since he had the biggest car, and grocery shopping was an exclusive event that only the four of them were allowed to partake in. Eric, Sunwoo, and even Jacob had expressed distaste at that elitism. One of these days, they were bound to let someone else join… right?

But regardless, that always meant that Saturday mornings were occupied for them. So why were three-quarters of the group currently invading Sunwoo's apartment?

Changmin sat up from his place on the floor and fixed Sunwoo with a grin that made him nervous. "We dropped her off at their place, and we did go shopping this morning, but you'll never guess the curious thing we witnessed while we were there." His giggles sent a doom-like shiver down Sunwoo's spine.

Then it clicked.

Sunwoo abruptly stopped taking dried noodle packages out of the grocery bag. "You're kidding."

A snort from Chanhee. "Oh, you wish."

Sunwoo bashed his head against his sweater-covered palms. "No."

"Yes!" Changmin shrieked.

"I didn't know you guys went to that supermarket!" Sunwoo wailed, throwing his head back toward the ceiling. "You guys saw us?"

JC!Yn rested her chin against her arm as she leaned over the back of the couch to face him. "We heard you, too. I'm glad you decided to own up to your chicken-ness. See? Wasn't so scary after all."

Well, he couldn't exactly agree with that. But he also couldn't disagree with it. He'd been so scared he was about to lose your friendship then for being so insecure for no reason. A simple clarifying question could have saved the both of you so much strife. But the conversation also reaped rewards: your mutual confessions.

He sulked and didn't say anything.

"It was cute though, Sunwoo-ah," said Chanhee with a teasing lilt to his smile.

"And also," Changmin cut in, "what do you mean 'so Changmin was right? That's crazy?!'"

Sunwoo snorted. "Now that, I have nothing to say to."

"So what's the deal now?" JC!Yn asked. "Are you two dating now or…?"

Oh. Another long pause, then— "Oh my god, you didn't ask her out?"

"Hey! Listen!" Sunwoo yelled in an attempt to defend himself.

"We're listening." Chanhee folded his arms over his chest with a less than impressed look on his face. He scoffed. "I can't believe you pull."

"Shut up!"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet—how can he pull?" Changmin quipped back with frenzied gesticulations.

Sunwoo groaned as he flopped over the counter. He couldn't believe he was having such a good morning, and now he was being berated once more for his stupidity. How could he not ask you out? It was right there! The opportunity had presented itself a multitude of times, and yet, why was he still here, dateless?

Then there came the thought of how to go about this. There was a part of him who thought that just asking you was probably fine. But the other part remembered how much he liked you—so texting was simply not an option. It had to have some pizzazz, a bit of oomph, to it.

"We can see the gears turning in your head, Sunwoo," said JC!Yn. "What's on your mind, bub?"

Sunwoo looked up from where he had smattered himself onto the kitchen counter like a pancake. "I have no rizz."

Chanhee coughed. "Well, that's not news."

Sunwoo sent him a scowl. "How should I ask her out? I kind of want it to be special, you know?"

"Hmm." JC!Yn pursed her lips, tapping her chin in thought. "The other day, I was talking to Sangyeon about music or something or other, and he showed me the playlist he'd made his girlfriend—"

"His fake girlfriend," Changmin corrected with a little smirk.

She rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Lee Sangyeon is not sad enough to make fake playlists for his fake girlfriend." It was a known inside joke amongst the friend group that Sangyeon had a "secret girlfriend" stashed away somewhere. A few of them liked to joke that she either didn't actually exist or that he kept her locked in his laundry machine or something. Mostly, though, they just wanted to know if he actually was single or not. What was the point of keeping her a secret anyway?

The slight change in victim brought Sunwoo's mood up. "What about the playlist, noona?"

She blinked, turning her attention back to her original train of thought. "Oh, right. What if you made her one of those cute, romantic playlists?"

The four of them exchanged glances with one another. It was a silent form of communication, one that had one uniform thought running through the wire.

— ✶

You'd received a text from Sunwoo about thirty minutes ago asking if he could stop by your apartment to drop off something of yours. Apparently, in the madness of the checkout aisle at the grocery store, he had accidentally "stolen" one of your cans of chicken noodle soup.

You hadn't bought chicken noodle soup though.

This was why you now anxiously awaited his arrival for the real reason he wanted to stop by. You had literally just seen him about an hour or two ago, but you'd be lying if you said you were happy at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. Your cheek still seared from his kiss.

As if he could read your thoughts, you heard a loud series of knocks at the door.

"Coming!" You called, hustling over from your living space area and over to the door.

After peeking through the peephole, you definitely saw Sunwoo, but what he was holding was nowhere near the likeness of a can of chicken noodle soup.

In a hurry, you ripped the door open, lips parted at the bundle of bright colored blooms in his hands. Sunflowers and carnations and lilies and roses—

He peered out sheepishly from behind the bouquet with his other hand occupied by his open phone. "Hi," he peeped.

"Hey," you exhaled, a grin fighting its way onto your face.

"If I made you a playlist, would you go out with me?"

You blinked, heartbeat rocketing into high gear. "Sunwoo," you started with a disbelieving laugh, "you don't have to—"

His thumb lowered onto a button on his phone. "Whoopsies, already did it."

Right on cue, you heard your phone buzz from your pocket. Curious, you withdrew it and opened the text message from him with a link to a Spotify playlist entitled: "One love song can't convey how I feel for you, so here's twenty."

You could have melted into a puddle of ooey-gooey goodness. "Sunwoo," you lamented, smiling way too wide now.

He beamed back at you. "What do you say?"

You shook your head, throwing your arms around him as he laughed and hugged you back. "You're so cute. Yes, I'll go out with you."

He gave you a little, warm squeeze. "Oh, thank god. I thought I was gonna die from anticipation."

You laughed and smiled into his shoulder. When you pulled away, your hand gently reached for the side of his face. "What if I kissed you right now?"

His eyes widened a smidge. "What if you wha--"

You cut him off and pressed your lips to his briefly, then pulled back.

"Wait, wait. Come back here," he murmured, chasing after you and crushing his mouth against yours. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect. The feel of his lips, the smell of his cologne, the firmness of his shoulders beneath your grip and the perfect pressure as you both sealed the deal with a kiss.

The two of you pulled away at the same time with labored breaths, foreheads meshed together as you caught your breath.

"You're not gonna turn this into a podcast episode, are you?" He asked, voice low and raspy, yet laced in a playful tonic.

You teased him right back. "As long as it doesn't end poorly."

He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations of his laugh against your lips. "Then I guess I'll just have to make it the best date ever."

"Don't worry," you said with a cheeky hand on his chest, "I believe in you."

With a laugh, he grazed his lips over yours again. "Thanks, superstar."

a/n: hihi!! thanks so much for reading <3 if you enjoyed, i would deeply appreciate a comment, reblog, or an ask to tell me what u thought about it! much love, onto kevin's !!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @hibernatinghamster @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @kflixnet

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 11 months

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Another sagau reader hearing someone insulting characters and going apeshit but when someone insults reader are like "......hmm shodul I drink hot chocolate or tea today?" This time ganyu( becose I still pissed at one guy who insulted her i her own story quest) bennet and nilou (another chance to make azar feel terror)

COMING RIGHT UP, ANON. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING OMG 💀 I have been too dead without these requests, fr.

Click Me For Part 1!

When Someone Insults Ganyu, Bennett, and Nilou vs When Someone Insults Reader...

(Disclaimers: Might Be OOC, Mentions of Violence, & Quest/Genshin Impact Lore Spoilers!)

Ganyu

Okay, first of all: Yes, I am adding that stupid idiot cough Xin Cheng cough into this.

You were just following the Traveler and Paimon, joining Ganyu's Story Quest which, for some reason, was not completed yet. So, you decided to tag along to see Ganyu!

You weren't hyped when that beggar came out of nowhere and started to do all that fairytale stuff even you don't approve of—and you were someone that sticks themselves into your own head, thank you very much.

So when this man started to gain the audacity to insult Ganyu, you knew you had to step up and do something. No one, and you quite mean it, was going to insult her and get away with it.

"Hey!" You came out from your hiding spot (you're the Almighty Creator, you know it'll make the situation worse). "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, huh?"

Xin Cheng pales at the sight of your enraged figure. He stutters to make an excuse, but you cut him off. You're having none of it.

"Get your useless self out of here, before I decide to kick it down the mountains myself!"

To say that Ganyu was shocked that you were getting angry over a mortal was an understatement. She was beyond surprised that you even stood up for her.

But she did have to intervene with your threatening—after all, she is still an Adeptus. Protecting the people of Liyue was still her duty.

"Your Grace...Please let him go. I'm sure he already understands his mistake." Ganyu's soft voice only made your anger increase—she sounded so upset!

"Y-yes, please, Your Grace! I understand what I've done wrong, I—"

"Silence." You glare down at the mortal. Your turn back to Ganyu, and considered your choices. While you wanted to wreck absolute vengeance on this man, you also didn't want to hurt Ganyu's feelings more.

Guess you were going down Trauma Lane, then. You sigh, and stomp your feet as you turn around to glare at Xin Cheng, catching his petite form by surprise.

"If I ever see you do this again..." Your eyes narrow. "Believe me when I say it—you will be granted no mercy by any adeptus nor Rex Lapis himself. Now SCRAM!" With that, he was running for the hills. You weren't entirely satisfied, but you'll take it. For now.

What would Happen if Ganyu heard you get insulted? Well, first of all, she would gasp quietly to herself. What was this blasphemy? She's utterly horrified.

Ganyu thinks she might faint once she realizes you were nearby, checking out vendor goods next to where the gossipers were spilling terrible insults of your image.

"Y-Your Grace! Please accept my apology on behalf of the people of Liyue." Will literally run up to you and apologize for them. While she may not be the one who did it, she's still cares about the People of Liyue—and thus her reasoning as to why she's askign for the mercy of the Almighty Creator.

Your puzzled look turns to Ganyu. "Who are you apologizing for?" Ganyu blinks.

"The, uhm—the gossipers..?" You're still confused, until your eyes shine once recognition hits you like Truck-Kun.

"Ohhh, those dudes! Yeah, don't worry about them—they're pretty boring, saying the same thing like a broken record. Say—wanna shop with me? I'm paying, of course."

And that's how you got Ganyu to be more comfortable around you! :D

Bennett

Ah, our unlucky yet optimistic adventurer! This boy—he is good. He's cool, and he's rather awed by most of the kids in Mondstadt.

He was hanging out with Razor and Fischl when someone decides to insult him. this genuinely upsets him—after all, they were insulting his ability and his position in the Adventurer's Guild...

Already, Razor and Fischl were already up to defend him, but what they didn't expect is for the Almighty Creator (aka you) got to it first.

"I beg your pardon," you say through gritted teeth. "How exactly is having a bad luck aura got to do with ANYTHING related to being an adventurer?" You're glaring so many daggers you could practically say you were breaking all the walls. "Perhaps we'll see just how lucky you are when I send you to Dragon Spine and watch your dead corpses FREEZE TO DEATH?"

The insulters were paling the more you went on. Razor and Fischl aren't sure what to do—you're already there, dealing with the situation.

But Bennett? Well uh, like usual, his bad luck got the best of him, and he accidentally stumbles towards you (miraculously). He bumps into you, and you shift your gaze onto him.

"Uh—Sorry, Your Grace! I really didn't mean to bump into you, I swear!" Poor guy is scared because his bad luck affected him at the worst time of all. He thinks he might get killed.

You though? Oh, hell nah. Your gaze already soften, and you decided to show favoritism! You pull the boy into a hug, glaring at the insulters one more time as a warning to scram, before you go back to enjoying giving the boy affection!

But when Bennett hears you get insulted? Well, first of all, screw his bad luck because the insulters were quite literally telling him how bad of a Creator you were!

He immediately tries to avoid getting too deep into the discussion, trying to sway the topic elsewhere to no avail, and he pales when he realizes you were literally a few steps away from them!

And it seems his bad luck gets in the way again, because you just turned right as he was staring at you with shocked eyes!

However, instead of being mad, you were actually beaming when you see him. You wave at Bennett, smiling.

"Bennett! Help me choose some flowers, yeah?"

"Uhm—uh, Sure, Your Grace!"

And that's how the insulters were hiding in their homes for the rest of their lives as you merrily dragged Bennett out of that horrendous conversation.

Nilou

Honestly, do I need to say who decided to insult this amazing dancer?

Yes, it was fricking Azar again. What is up with this crazy old man, nobody knows. Perhaps you should put him in prison for a while until he's gained a sense of appreciation for the Arts. ALL of the Arts.

Apparently, when you had drilled fear into this man, he thought it only applied to flipping Nahida. As much as you love Nahida, you are not going to have Azar twists your words and make it seem like you grant him permission to snark down other people—especially the people of Zubayr Theater.

So when Azar finally decides to have scholars gain the nerve to insult Nilou on behalf of his stupid brain, you (of course) just had to get yourself involved with this.

"Excuse me, but since when did you have the audacity to judge someone else's profession of art, simply because it isn't 'academic' in any way?" You spat. "Where I come from, Art courses are necessary in order to move on in your academic life." When Nilou hears you, she, first of all, is grateful of you stepping up for her, and, second of all, very scared of what might be happening next.

The scholars pale, but they seem to have taken your comment as a debate.

"With all due respect, Your Grace, the Arts are anything but educational—"

"Was I looking for a second opinion, dimwit?" You narrow your eyes. "Besides, have you yourself ever tried the Art of Dancing or the Art of Music before?"

"Well—uhm, no, but—"

"Then shut up, then." The scholars begin to panic as your voice becomes low and dangerous. "You don't have an excuse to be judgmental if you haven't even tried this stuff yourself."

"Ex-Sage Azar told us to say this!" They blurt out, and that only increases your rage. Seeing that things might escalate, Nilou steps in.

"Your Grace, let's not be too harsh!" She exclaims, waving her hands frantically. "I'm sure they understand what they did wrong. There's no need to have them punished." You narrowed your eyes in disagreement, for a half second, Nilou thought she made the situation worse.

But when you sigh heavily, she knew you relented. You glare at the scholars again.

"Tell Azar if he does this again, to ANYONE, I'll cut his head off, and there's no more excuses there. In fact—bring me to him. I'll have a talk with him myself."

Yeah, Azar got traumatized again :)

But when Nilou hears you be insulted? Quite literally behind your back? She thought she was going to faint from the gossiper's comments alone! You being there to listen it to it all only made her feel worse.

She was about to confront them, until she saw other people nearby dealing with the situation. So, Nilou decides to check up and see if you were okay...After all, those comments weren't nice.

She was pretty shocked when she realized you were contemplating over wares instead, completely unbothered by the drama going on behind your back. Nevertheless, she was still going to apologize in case you were just hiding your emotions.

"Uhm, Your Grace—I would like to apologize on behalf of all of Zubayr Theater. We should've done something earlier." You look at her, confused.

"What are you apologizing for, Nilou?" You ask. She blinks.

"Uhm, the gossipers, Your Grace..?" Your eyes widen, before you bark a laugh.

"Oh, those dudes! Yeah—don't worry about them, honestly. Say—help me pick: should I get hot chocolate or tea from this lovely store?"

Let's just say you had a fun time hanging out with Nilou for the rest of the afternoon :)

AND THAT'S IT! WE ARE DONE! I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE AND TAKING 30+ YEARS TO FINISH THIS, BUT IT'S HERE! :D I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: To anyone who's waiting for The Lost Shining God of Celestia, yes I have been writing on it. However, due to personal life problems and other IRL circumstances, it's taking a little longer than expected. I am sorry, everyone!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#yandere sagau #sagau genshin #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #sagau fluff #genshin cult au #sagau x reader #self aware genshin #sagau ganyu #sagau nilou #sagau bennett #genshin self aware #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic #sagau razor #sagau fischl

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beelmons · 9 months

Note

Hi! An idea I had was an enemies to lovers where Spencer says something he regrets like they slept together and reader sort of wears her heart on her sleeve and thought everything was okay between them but Spencer is still being hateful to reader and she’s confused until he’s like “I just wanted to sleep with you, nothing more”. Or smth like that 💗

cw: post prison spencer, mean!Spencer, angst no happy ending

You didn't know what it was, and if he was being honest neither did he, but Spencer Reid hated you to his core.

It started the day he met you, shortly after Emily Prentiss took over as Unit Chief, when you were assigned to the BAU as a probatory agent. Two rookies, Luke Alvez and yourself, being added to the team was not necessarily her vision of a perfect taskforce, but she could make it work with some help of her friends, hence why Tara and JJ were told to shadow Luke, and Rossi and Reid to shadow you.

But, of course, Rossi had less of a hands-on teaching style, so he was barely around in the field with you, leaving you to the capable hands of a recently traumatized Spencer Reid.

It was loathing at first sight, because, he'd never admit, something about you remided him of Cat Adams.

Maybe something in your eyes, or the way you walked, or perhaps the sound of your laugh, but his back muscles tensed whenever you were around, his hands curled into a fist, and his eyes couldn't help but narrow in suspicion.

A little extra issue, though, his member would also get extremely hard.

"You did what?!" Luke almost shouted from his desk.

"Shut up, man!" you pushed him by the shoulders, trying to sink him further into his seat "We slept together, alright?"

"How did you even make that happen? I thought he..." the man stopped himself once his ability to think before speaking came through.

"Hated me? Yeah." you finished his sentence "I don't know what to tell you. It was late, he was checking my preliminary profile, he said it was good and insightful, and next thing I know I'm facing the wall with my panties down to my ankles."

"Well, I guess that's one way to patch things up." he teased "So, what? are you guys dating?"

"I... don't think so?" you said with certain sadness "He left while I was cleaning myself up in the bathroom."

Luke was about to emit an opinion of his own when he sensed, but a foreign sound interrupted him.

"Good morning!" JJ's cheery voice caused the two of you to look up.

In the distance, Jennifer and Spencer walked towards your spot. You couldn't help the hopeless grin that appeared on your face at the sight of him, the same one he walked past without a single word.

Your crescent faded as quick as it came. What the hell was that? Giving you the cold shoulder like you are 10 and pulled his pigtails at the playground.

You heard the chief call to the round table and decided to save your little highschool quarrel for later. Luckily, serial killers had decided to take a break, and so your day would be desk duty only.

"Hey." when the clock neared lunch time, you decided to approach Reid.

He begrudingly raised his sight, pulling it away from you almost immediately. "Hey."

"Mind going to lunch with me?" you asked.

"I brought my own, thanks." he dryly refuted.

"Uhm, Reid." you moved in closer to his ear, and he almost flinched "That was code for 'I need to talk to you'"

"I'm aware of the connotations of your sentence, I just happen to not care for what the actual meaning entails." his eyes still refused to move to you.

He was back to being the annoying asshole you had always met, the exact opposite of the caring soul everyone else seemed to face on the daily.

"I..." a knot began to form on your throat "I thought we were okay again."

At last, he deemed you worthy of his stare, his eyes locking with yours and vaguely narrowing in your direction. You could see the burning flame of despise in them, the chilling sensation that if he could, he would take the life out of you with his hands in a second.

"Were we ever?" he snarked.

Something snapped, and you were blessed that the only two people you knew in the ballpen were Luke and Tara, who were merrily sharing some chinese food, otherwise you would had certainly been fired.

"Wha the fuck is your problem?!" you yelled as your hands smacked the surface of his desk.

"What are you-" he tried to complain.

"You had not once shown me a gentle face since I met you, and suddenly, you act reassuring and supportive, only to disappear without a word, and then act like not a thing happened!" you continued to raise your voice, your hands reaching to grip at his shoulders and force you to look at you when he tried to divert his gaze.

The sensation of being cornered and exposed caused an odd reaction out of him, you could see it in his eyes, almost as if he wasn't truly there.

"Did it ever cross your mind I said all this so you would let me fuck you?" his voice was almost as loud as yours "If not, then you are not half as good profiler as I thought you were."

Piercing. That's how it felt. The unmistakable sensation of a puncture to the heart. There was nothing else you could to do help yourself, or the tears that ran down your cheeks.

"What did I..." you began to mutter almost to yourself. Luke's arms had moved to your shoulders, tugging you away from your coworker. "What did I ever do to you?" you asked weakly, Luke now blocking Spencer from your line of sight.

The doctor was astonished by his own words, even more so by your tears. He didn't know how to describe them, they just seemed so... sincere?

"Spencer?" Tara called for a third time, snapping him out of a self-induced trance.

"What?" he asked.

"What happened?" she inquired again "Why would you say something like that?"

"I-" he looked around trying to find you, but your friend had taken you away "I don't know."

The fight would get to Emily's ears later in the day. Spencer was dismissed for the remainer of his shift, and so were you.

A part of him was being eaten alive by remorse, but the other, the one he deemed his conscious mind, tried to convice him he had done nothing wrong. Hadn't he spoken the truth? There was no reason to like you. Your gentle demeanor was not excuse enough, neither was your peculiar humor, or your relentless dedication to do good.

There was no reason to like you when you had caused him so much pain. Hadn't you?

His brain felt foggy, clouded, confused. Beyond his control, his body dragged him in the direction of your house, only to find himself at a crossroad he didn't know the name of.

Where did you live again? He had never asked you. Perhaps, he could call you. But your work phone was off and he didn't have your personal. What if he asked Luke? Yeah, right. After what he had witnessed, how could he be remotely on his side? He was forced back home, he would talk to you the next morning at work.

Was there something to talk about?

"A transfer?" Luke asked Penelope.

"She asked me to put a rush to it." the blonde clarified.

"And did you?" the man inquired with curiosity.

Garcia nodded with a pout.

"She just looked so sad." she clarified.

A knock on her door interrupted the conversation, and a soft 'come in' prompted Spencer to walk into the room.

The two coworkers shot him a look, curious and pitiful at the same time. Spencer narrowed his eyes questioningly at them.

"What?" he finally said.

"We know you've been through a lot." Penelope began to say "That you were taking it out on her for some reason, but I think you might have done this time, boy wonder."

Reid couldn't help but to swallow back a knot. They were right. Objectively, you had done nothing wrong. But objectivity had long lost its meaning, since he had learned that his reality could be bent to someone else's will to a point where he didn't know what was real and what wasn't.

"I didn't mean what I said." he quickly explained "That's what's I wanted to tell her."

"Well," Luke almost snarked at him "That's going to be a little hard now that she's gone."

"What do you mean?" Reid inquired.

"She had requested a transfer to the defense department months ago." Penelope explained "I just rushed some paperwork, but the deal was basically made."

Exposed to these news, Spencer bolted off the tech office and straight into Prentiss's. He basically stomped in, causing Emily to look confused for a solid second.

"Revert the transfer." he demanded, his palms firmly pressed on the desk.

"I thought you would be relieved..." she began to explain.

"We need her here. She's the most promising profiler we've seen in a while." he argued.

"Really?" Emily cocked an eyebrow "Because just a month ago your report indicated she was just average."

Spencer rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his hair, frustratedly turning around the office. He took a couple of deeo breaths, out of the corner of his eye he noticed your desk. Your belongings were already packed inna box, possibly Luke's doing to save you the awkwardness of a tidying up visit.

"I made a mistake." he admitted, his eyes still fixed on your empty chair.

"I'm sorry, Spence." the unit chief said "Sometimes, we just have to live with the consequences of our mistakes."

#feeling self conscious abt this bit #but i.hope you enjoyed!!!!#blurb: criminal minds #blurb: spencer #blurb: angst #criminal minds #spence #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid #blurb: mine

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wh0re43van · 5 months

Text

Boyfriend Pt 2 (Warren Lipka x Reader)

Summary: Your boyfriend catches Warren being a little too friendly with you, causing a fight to break out. Warren expresses that he wants to be more than a secret booty call.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut, violence (not really directed at reader), blood, weed

Pt 1 , Pt 3

I wake up to my cell phone buzzing on Dakota’s nightstand. I groan, throwing the unconscious boy off me as I roll over to grab the small rectangle of plastic. I check the digital alarm clock.

2:35 in the morning. Who the fuck is calling me?

My stomach flips when I see Warrens name lighting up on my phone. I run out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

“Hey,” I whisper. “Warren it’s 2:30 in the morning,” I giggle quietly as I lock the door.

“I know, I know,” he laughs. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about you,” I hear the bong bubbling in the background. My cheeks burn red. “I just got some crazy bud if you wanna come smoke,” I can hear his smirk through the phone. “I can pick you up,” he offers. I smile at his extremely tempting offer.

“I can’t,” I sigh, disappointing both Warren and myself. “I’m at Dakotas. He’ll wake up and I already agreed to drive him to the gaming store first thing in morning,” I explain. He’s silent for a moment.

“Alright,” I can hear frustration in his voice. “Yeah, I’m the side piece, I forgot,” he scoffs. My heart sinks.

“Warren, I’m sorry,” I want to cry.

“No,” he sighs. “I understand I guess. I will see you soon though,” he says calmly.

“Of course,” I sigh in relief that he still wants to see me.

“I’ll see you around, beautiful,” he says, then the line goes dead. I delete the recent call before crawling back into bed, but I’m unable to sleep. I miss Warrens voice so much. I kick myself for not accept his offer as I toss and turn for the rest of the night.

•

The next afternoon, I sit across from Dakota in a small local diner, playing with the spoon sticking out of my coffee mug as he talks on his cellphone to one of his friends about a football game or something, I’m not too sure honestly. I’m not really listening.

A car door slams catching my attention. I look out the condensation covered window next to our booth to see Warren and a guy I’ve never seen before step out of a vehicle. My eyes light up.

“I’m gonna go smoke a cig real quick,” I sputter in one breath, taking my pack of Camels and running out the door before Dakota even responds. I walk up behind warren without him seeing me, as he talks to the other guy getting out of the car.

“Got a light?” I ask, popping a menthol in my mouth as I smile from ear to ear, tapping his shoulder. He turns around with his eyebrows threaded in confusion, but immediately matches my expression as soon as he sees me.

“Y/n,” he pulls me into a hug. “Spencer gimme your lighter,” he demands the other guy. He tosses a blue bic lighter to Warren.

“Who’s-“ Spencer begins to ask.

“Just go get us a seat, man,” Warren cuts him off. The awkward boy walks away quietly. Warren turns back to me, his grin returning as he lights the menthol cigarette between my lips.

“Thanks,” I smile, feeling butterflies in my stomach as he watches me remove the cigarette from my lips, exhaling the smoke.

“Mind if I bum one? Spencer locked mine in his car,” he motions to the pack of Newports trapped on the passenger seat. I giggle, handing him a cig.

“You here by yourself?” he asks as the orange flame from the lighter lights up his face and reflects an auburn glow in his dark eyes.

“Uh, no, actually,” I take another drag, motioning my cigarette towards the window of the dinner. Warren tuns to see Dakota talking on his phone, still unaware of my departure.

“Oh,” his grin faulters.

“I’m, uhm, free after this though,” I offer. Just like that, his dimples have returned.

“I have some stuff to go over with Spencer,” he throws his thumb over his shoulder in reference to the awkward boy in dinner, then ashes his cigarette. “But I’m free tonight,” he stares into my eyes. I can’t contain the huge grin plastered on my face. Warren reaches his free hand out to slowly release some loose strands of my hair that the wind blew into my lip gloss. His hand lingers on my face, we lock gazes as his thumb caresses my cheek, I close my eyes and lean into his touch.

“What the fuck are you doing with my girl, man?” Dakota shouts, quickly approaching Warren. He swiftly turns around to face my angry boyfriend.

“Just calm down man. I wasn’t-“ Warren laughs, tossing his cigarette on the ground, but Dakota cuts him off by shoving his chest, hard. He doesn’t budge, but easily retaliates the gesture, sending Dakota stumbling backwards a foot or two. I know it’s wrong, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say its insanely hot watching Warren get angry.

“Keep your hands off me, douchebag or ill kick your ass right here in front of your girl,” he spits in Dakotas face, literally. Dakota looks at me, wiping Warrens’ saliva off his face, then quickly hits Warren with a right hook. Warren’s head snaps to the side with the loud thud of knuckles on skin. Warren looks back at Dakota in shock, wiping the small trickle of blood from his nose. I watch completely stunned, even though I want to stop them, I can’t move. This all happened so fast.

“You hit like a pussy,” Warren chuckles before uppercutting Dakota so hard that his neck cracks as his head flies backward. I snap out of my haze, running over to Dakota as he steadies himself. I grab his arm in attempt to help him.

“Come on, Dakota let’s just go,” I plead, not wanting to watch him get his ass laid out on the frozen pavement.

“Get off me, bitch!” he screams, back handing me, not taking his eyes off Warren. I grab my cheek, about to cuss him out when Warren takes Dakotas collar into his fists, shoving him against Spencer’s car. Warren grabs his throat, holding his head steady, so his already bruised knuckles can strike as hard as possible against Dakota’s jaw. Blood immediately pours out of his busted lip.

“Don’t fucking talk to y/n like that!” he screams, just inches from my boyfriend’s face. The veins popping out of his neck, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping onto Dakota. Warren spits the blood that’s dripped from his nose between his lips into Dakota’s face. “Does that make you feel strong, pussy boy? Huh? You feel like man when you bitch slap your girlfriend?” he growls, his fist contacting Dakotas abdomen this time, knocking wind out of him, leaving my boyfriend wheezing.

When Warren screams that last phrase, that’s when I realize; Dakota is fighting for his masculinity, Warren’s fighting for me. I turn on my heels to run inside the dinner, finding the boy that Warren arrived with.

“Spencer, right?” I ask out of breath. He nods his head, confused. “Warrens beating the shit out of my boyfriend, I need you to help me stop him before he kills him,” I explain breathlessly.

“Oh,” Spencer says processing what I’m saying. “Oh my- Oh my god!” He jumps from the seat, running out the door with me.

“Warren, dude come on, you’re gonna get arrested!” Spencer shouts, cautiously approaching the scuffling boys. It seems like this isn’t the first time Spencer has witnessed this. It appears that Dakota managed to get another hit or two in, because Warrens eyebrow appears busted and they’re on the ground now, a small pool of blood forming on the frosted pavement underneath Dakota.

“Fuck off, Spence,” Warren growls about to strike again.

“Please Warren! You’re gonna kill him!” I shriek. Warren pauses, Spencer takes the opportunity to pull Warren off Dakota. I run over to my boyfriend, trying to help him up.

“Get off of me you stupid bitch!” Dakota shouts, slapping me off him as he tries to stand on his shaky legs.

“Hey!” Warren shouts in the background, Spencer holds him back again.

“Dakota, please. You need help,” I plead feeling bad for him.

“This is your fault! If you weren’t out here whoring it up with this clown, this wouldn’t have happened,” he screams in my face, blood dripping from multiple different wounds on his face, his nose already purple.

“Just let me drive you home,” I sigh, feeling less guilty since he had the audacity to call me a whore, when he slept with my cousin in my own car two months ago. Actually, after remembering that, I don’t feel bad for him at all anymore.

“No! I’m walking! Fuck off! And fuck all of you! You too Spencer!” he shouts as he limps away, holding his stomach.

I guess spencer was the mutual friend.

I turn to see Warren leaning against Spencer’s car, smoking one of his Newports.

“What did I do?” I hear spencer ask, I ignore him.

“Warren I’m so-“ my eyes well up with tears, my cheek still stinging as the cold wind blows against the hand print on my face.

“Come here, are you okay?” He pulls me into a quick hug then examines my cheek. Placing a bloody hand on my cheek.

“Of course I’m fine,” I sigh grabbing his face. “Look at you,” I frown, putting a gentle hand on his face. He winces against my touch. His bottom lip and right eyebrow are both busted. There’s blood coming from his nose, flowing over his lips and onto his chin. His right cheek is bright red and swollen.

“You should see the other guy,” he chuckles, popping the cigarette back into his mouth. How can he joke at a time like this. Nevertheless, I laugh lightly, shaking my head.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” I offer.

“I’ll go get your keys and stuff,” he smiles.

“No, Warren, I can get them. Just stay here,” I dash back into the dinner, everyone giving me weird looks. I smile awkwardly, throwing a 10 down on the table, then run back to the boys, the bells on the doors jingling loudly behind me.

“Okay, come on,” I take Warrens hand.

“Should, uh, should I just go home then?” Spencer asks awkwardly with his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, Spence. Get the fuck out of here,” Warren dismisses him, half joking with the timid boy. I can tell that their friendship has an interesting dynamic.

•

“Thank god my folks ain’t here,” Warren sighs as he unlocks his front door, allowing me to enter the home first.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” I ask looking around the house, which is becoming a familiar scene.

“I’ll grab it, just head down to my room,” he says motioning to the basement door as he walks up the carpet steps. I obey, making my way to his bedroom.

I sit down on his couch, a few moments later, Warren enters with the first aid kit.

“Is the worst of it on your face?” I ask the mangled boy in front of me as I pop the plastic box open. He winces as he pulls his black t-shirt up and over his head. He turns around to reveal a nasty patch of road rash stretching from his spine over to his left shoulder. “Oh, Warren,” I gasp, sadness in my voice. I feel horrible for him. He sits down on the couch next to me.

“He got the best of me for about four seconds, but it was enough to fuck my back up pretty bad,” he laughs. Somehow still smiling even though he’s covered in dried blood-most of it not his- and his lip is busted.

“I’m sorry about that, Warren. I should have just stayed in the diner,” I shake my head as I open a gauze pad and grab the rubbing alcohol.

“But if you’d done that, you wouldn’t be sitting in my room right now,” he grins, but winces a bit. It probably hurts to smile; His cheek is bruised pretty bad.

“Yeah, but at least you wouldn’t be in pain,” I say as I pour the strong smelling alcohol onto the gauze.

“Worth it,” he smirks, resting his busted knuckles on my thigh.

“This is gonna sting,” I say, taking a deep breath. He nods, closing his eyes. I press the alcohol soaked cotton onto his split eyebrow.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts through gritted teeth, squeezing my thigh.

“I know, I know,” I pat the wound a couple more times before removing it. “I’m sorry,” I dampen another gauze pad, moving to his lip. He hisses again but allows me to clean the gash. Finally, I have him stand and turn so I can clean his shoulder. I can’t help but admire his back, running my fingers gently over the undamaged skin, leaving goosebumps behind every trace. The room is quiet, just the faint buzz of the dim overhead lights and Warrens breathing.

“Does it look bad?” he breaks the silence, looking at me over his shoulder.

“No, uh,” I clear my throat. “Sorry just uhm,” I clumsily grab a new cotton pad and the alcohol, naturally spilling it a bit, embarrassed that he caught me staring. “No, it’s not too bad,” I say as I fumble with the cotton.

“Why are you so nervous all the-“ he laughs, then I push the alcohol to his cuts. “Shit! Fuck, Y/n warn me next time!” he shouts. I wince at his loud tone as all the muscles in his back tense. I pull away, tears begin to form in my eyes. The past hour has been so stressful and him raising his voice sent me over the edge. I know he didn’t mean anything by it, that I just caught him off guard, but I can’t help how my body responded.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he quickly turns around, seemingly forgetting about the pain, bringing me into a tight hug as a couple tears roll down my cheeks. “I didn’t mean-“

“I know,” I smile up at him as he wipes the stray tear from my face. He looks so pretty, even when he’s doused in dried blood and half his face is bruised. “I’m sorry, I’m just stressed… I really need to smoke,” I sigh.

“Ditto,” he agrees, pulling away. “I’m gonna shower real quick. If you could, would you grab me the icepacks out of the freezer in the kitchen? Then I’ll bust out the bong,” he winks as he walks towards the bathroom in just his blood stained jeans. I smile and nod, then turn to walk up the steps.

•

After locating the ice packs, I run to my car to grab my weed. I go back inside, making my way to the steps, hearing a The Offspring cd playing as I descend into the basement. I see Warren already sitting on the couch, wearing nothing but a towel, his damp dark hair stuck to his forehead.

“Hey beautiful, what took so long?” he asks as I take a seat next to him.

“Oh, I ran out to my car to grab my bud so I could match you,” I explain as I set the jar on the table, then I hold an ice pack to his cheek. “You poor thing,” I sigh. He looks much better now that he’s cleaned up, but now I can see the wounds for what they really are.

“Come on y/n, you know I’m not gonna let you match me,” he laughs, continuing to break up the weed.

“Warren, I insist. I already feel bad enough that I got you into a fight,” I open the jar, but he snatches it out of my hand.

“No,” he says sternly, looking into my eyes. “And don’t say that. You had nothing to do with the fight, that dumbass came out swinging and disrespecting you. That’s all on him,” he says seriously. I just nod, a bit intimidated by his stern tone. He grabs the lighter and the bong handing it to me,

“Ladies first,” he winks, the mood much lighter now. He takes the icepack into his own hand so I can hit the bong. He watches me as I take a big hit. The warm smoke filling my lungs quickly. I blow the milky smoke towards the ceiling, as I sink into the couch.

“What?” I giggle when I realize that Warrens still watching me.

“You’re just so pretty, I never want to take my eyes off of you,” he smiles, setting the icepack down to take the glass out of my hand, pulling a huge hit. I see his muscles relax almost instantly.

“You’re pretty too,” I chuckle, taking one more hit. It doesn’t take long to feel the effects, I feel light but heavy at the same time; like I’m floating, but my limbs are too dense to move. This is one of my favorite feelings in the world.

“I was, until I got my face banged up,” he frowns, putting his mouth to the opening of the bong.

“I don’t think it’s a bad look,” I say honestly. “I know you’re in pain, but you do look pretty badass. It’s kinda sexy actually,” I giggle, the THC clouding my brain doesn’t allow me to keep that last thought to myself. Warrens ears perk up at the word ‘sexy’. He sets the bong down, scooching closer to me, the towel wrapped around his toned torso falls a bit, exposing his V-line and a bit of brown hair right below it. The sight makes me moan internally.

“Is that so?” he smirks, his face coming closer to me.

“Mhm,” I smile, bringing my hand up to feel his bare chest. He hovers above me as I lay heavy in between the couch cushions. “Even sexier than normal,” I smile, looking at him through lidded eyes. Warren leans down, pressing his busted lip against mine, I kiss back gently.

“I’ve missed your lips,” he smiles, resting his forehead against mine.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” I ask, cupping his uninjured cheek in my hand.

“Nah, you fixed me up real good Doc,” he chuckles. “Plus, I’m pretty stoned right now. As they say, weed’s the best medicine,” he says bringing me into another kiss. I melt completely into him; This is all I’ve craved in the two weeks it’s been since I’ve seen him last.

“I’ve missed you so much, Warren,” I admit into the kiss.

“Lay down darling, I owe you for fixin’ me up,” he says helping me turn to lay down the couch.

“Warren, you should just take it easy, baby. You’ve been through a lot,” I rub my hand up and down his arm, over his silly tattoo. He smiles at the pet name, reaching for the waistband of my pants.

“I am taking it easy, beautiful. Weed might be the best medicine, but you’re a close second,” he smirks, taking my pants and underwear off in one swoop, making my stomach flip. I’m almost ashamed of how easily I become puddy in his hands. “Mmm, so pretty,” he gently runs his hands up my thighs as I spread my legs for him, he doesn’t even have to ask. I’m always ready for him.

“Warren you really don’t have-“ he places a quick kiss on lips.

“Shh, I don’t wanna hear you speak unless you’re moaning my name, okay, beautiful,” he says gently but sternly, a small smile plastered on his face. I can’t help but giggle as excitement courses through my body. I simply nod my head ‘yes’.

He slides down my body admiring me in all my glory. He gently slides a finger over my heat, watching me intently.

“Sucha pretty girl,” he coos as he settles his head between my legs. He wraps his arms around my thighs, holding them open as he begins licking at my clit, quickly earning a moan of approval from me. He gently sticks a finger inside of me as he continues working on my nub. “Does that feel good baby,” he asks against my core.

“Mhm,” I moan out, bringing a hand to hold onto his damp hair. The amount of weed in my system amplifies the pleasure by 100. He sucks gently on my bundle of nerves as his finger pumps into me, curling perfectly.

“Fuck warren,” I pant, curling my toes, my breath becomes shallow. He continues his steady pace, the pleasure winding in my stomach begging for release. I begin grinding against his face, begging for more contact as his tongue works expertly against me. He moans against my sensitive skin, sending chills down my spine.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” I come undone, gripping hard onto his hair as my hips continue to grind into his face, covering him in my release. He pulls away proudly, licking his fingers as I try to catch my breath.

“You taste just as good as you look,” he winks making me blush. He sighs happily, before grabbing the bong, taking another hit.

“That’s all I get?” I ask as he passes me the glass. He looks at me confused. I take a quick hit- not worried about the weed, I want him inside of me. I reach over, further removing the loosely draped towel covering his torso, revealing his erection.

“I was treating you, baby,” he laughs, “but if you insist,” he lays me back down on the couch once again as he presses a gentle kiss to my lips. He gives himself a couple pumps before lining himself into me, those dark bloodshot eyes gazing into mine makes my heart skip a beat.

“Fuck, I love how you stretch me out,” I moan as he pushes into me, a proud smirk appears on his bruised face.

“You feel so good, beautiful,” he grunts, grabbing my hips as he begins to thrust in and out of me. He’s so deep; I swear I can feel him poking my stomach.

“You fuck me so good warren, faster, please,” I whine, begging for more. I’m defenseless against him, the amount of pleasure he brings me is inhuman. He obeys, fucking me faster and deeper. I wrap my legs around him as he leans down, placing a sloppy kiss to my lips. “I want you to cum in me warren,” I pant against his lips, his eyes go wide. “I’m on the pill,” I giggle. “Please Warren I want to feel you cum inside me, I’ve never let anyone else do it, please,” I beg. His eyes cloud with even more lust, something I didn’t think was possible. He groans, sitting up so he can pull my hips flush against his with every thrust. He brings one hand down to play with my bundle of nerves, I’m unable to contain my noises of pleasure, moaning out his name.

“Fuck,” he groans lowly to himself as he rocks his hips into me. “Who’s pussy is this?” he asks in a deep growl, goosebumps appear on my skin. “Y/n, who’s fucking pussy is this?” he asks again as he thrusts hard hitting my g-spot perfectly.

“Fuck!” I scream. “Yours! It’s all yours Warren,” I pant desperately, my tone that of one you’d hear in a cheesy porno. His possessiveness and the way he’s hitting the deepest parts of me mixed with the weed brings me to my second orgasm of the night.

“That’s fucking right,” he growls, grabbing my face. My walls clench around him as his powerful thrusts become sloppy. I scream out his name, euphoria enveloping me as he shoots his cum deep inside me, I’ve never experienced anything as erotic as him fucking his seed into me as it leaks out of my throbbing cunt onto his couch. Warren pulls out reluctantly, his legs visibly shaking. I lay limp in the same spot, trying to steady my breathing and stop my own legs from shaking.

“Are you okay?” he laughs helping me sit up.

“Yeah,” I giggle. “I’ve just never been fucked like-“ I stop when I see his lip gushing blood. “Warren, baby, your lips bleeding again,” I stand up quickly to find the gauze, I ignore his cum that begins to run down my thigh.

“Leave it” he waves his hand, laying back on the couch. “I feel too good to care,” he laughs. “Come lay with me,” he pats the couch. I pick up an alcohol soaked cotton pad, then sit next to him.

“Let me clean this first,” I say. He nods reluctantly, hissing as the pad hits his lip. The bleeding stops soon. “You need to put some antibacterial ointment on that. Mouth abrasions can get infected really easily,” I begin to explain.

“You should break up with your boyfriend,” he blurts out. I don’t think he was listening to anything I said. He stares at me nervously awaiting my response.

“I know I should,” I sigh, he reaches over to the coffee table handing me my phone. “What? Now?” I ask shocked. He nods his head.

“I want you to be mine, all mine. I can’t go another two weeks without seeing you, having you too busy with that douche to see me, and I sure as fuck don’t want anyone else touching you like I just did,” he pours his heart out, not dropping my gaze once. I look away, biting my lip. He’s right, as always. I belong with him; Anyone can see that.

“Well, at least wait until the morning,” I sigh looking back at him. “I mean you did just beat the shit of the guy and cum in his girlfriend, isn’t that enough for one night,” I smile lightly, not sure how he’ll feel about the idea.

“If you stay with me tonight, and do it very first thing in the morning, then I’ll agree,” he offers with a small smile. I agree, cuddling into his side. He lays a kiss on my forehead.

I should feel guilty, but I don’t, not towards Dakota at least. I feel guilty about getting Warren hurt, but my bitch ass boyfriend had it coming. I’ve finally found someone who cares about me, and I refuse to lose that, even if this is just a fling.

354 notes · View notes

vacantfields · 4 months

Text

Silly Time

SO UH i finished it (: teehee

be kind as always as i was just having fun with it!! thank you for the love on the snippet of this... i hope you guys enjoy this silly thing!! Happy new year from me!!

[1,178 words]

---------------------------------------------

It was another sunny day in the Daycare. Kids were playing and screaming in delight as they ran around.

Sun was sitting with some quieter kids at the small table, where they all drew on some colored paper with crayons. He, too, was drawing along with them. It looked rather comical as he sat there, his legs bent like a frog would sit, and in his hand a tiny crayon as he doodled on the blue piece of paper he had gotten. Sun was enjoying his day until a tiny voice spoke up at the table.

"Uhm... Mister Sun?"

Sun looked up from his drawing, his faceplate doing a silly little spin and his grin soft.

"Yes, little star Kris?"

The little girl looked down at the crayon in her tiny hand before speaking again. "I was... Wondering if you knew why Mister Moon calls the nice security guard, who comes here sometimes, for Love."

Sun trained his barely moving expression to remain still, though inside, he was shocked by this new knowledge. "Oh? Moon calls them for Love?" He tried to poke Moon's AI in his headspace, but the other remained quiet. Sun and Moon were able to communicate through their shared headspace, but the other AI moved away from Sun's poking, making him scoff internally.

"Yeah... I was just wondering because my mom and dad call each other that." Little Kris continued before going back to doodling as little kids do when they lose interest in getting an answer.

Which fit Sun fine as his inner workings were reeling, his fans kicking in. Moon had never mentioned that he was hanging out with a night guard, and especially not this one.

Sun could usually peek through Moon's eyes and be present when Moon was in control, but lately, the other AI had closed the connection, and at first, Sun thought maybe Moon just needed alone time, which was, of course, fine! But it seems there were other things at play.

But Sun couldn't ask Moon about this right now. He was working and busy as he was an excellent daycare attendant. He thought so himself, at least.

Luckily for Sun, the kids got picked up earlier today, and he decided that as soon as he had cleaned, he would poke his other half until he responded.

As Sun swept the floors and cleaned the surfaces, he heard the doors open, and the Security guard came in. The animatronic scattered to the playground to hide as he often did when this guard came around. It was not that he hated this security guard or anything. He and Moon didn't trust any of the adults. But for Moon, that might have changed.

"Hello? Moon?"

Sun was in one of the play castles, quiet as he hid in the small tower, checking his internal clock. It was indeed time for Moon to come out, and Sun could feel the other stir.

The sunny animatronic kept his white eyes on the security guard, hiding behind the castle doorway as he spoke internally.

"Oh! So now you respond to me." Sun grumbled.

"... I just woke up," Moon mumbled back in reply.

"And?! Moonie, what is this about you calling THIS security guard for 'Love'??!"

Moon groaned in the headspace. "You said you didn't like them, and I wanted to see them for myself and quickly found out you're being a dumbass."

Sun squawked in their shared space. "ME?? A DUMBASS? Moonie! The adults are not nice to us ever. I mean, you even told me you hate all the night guards and the security guards!"

Sun could feel Moon rolling his eyes. "This one's different. Let me out. They're calling for me still."

"Nuh-uh."

"... What the hell do you mean 'Nuh-uh'??" Moon growled.

"Moon? It's time to do the rounds!" The short guard called out into the empty Daycare, then removed their hat to scratch their head. "Moon? It's okay if you don't want to! Uh..."

Sun kept his eyes trained on the guard from his hiding spot.

Moon continued. "Sun! Let me out!"

"I can't believe you trust them to do those security rounds with you! They're small! weak!"

Moon scoffed. "They're nice! Now let me out!"

Sun hummed and then replied, "No."

"NO?! SUN!"

The Sunny animatronic then shut the other AI out, dooming Moon to sit back and watch as he moved down from the play castle and over to the security guard.

"Hi, Friend!" Sun said with a bright smile.

The security guard jumped in surprise and dropped their hat. "oh! Hi Sun!" they stuttered and bent down to pick the hat up. "I was wondering why the lights were still on..." They mumbled to themself.

Sun frowned, and Moon broke through. "You have never been kind to them, you wannabe jester." Sun gaped internally. Oh, how he wished he could punch his other half.

"Well! Sunshine. I got the task of cleaning the Daycare, and it took a bit longer than I thought," Sun said with a smile, but it faltered when he heard Moon's deep chuckle in the back of their shared headspace.

The guard looked at Sun with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

Sun then realized he had given the security guard, he had avoided at all costs, a nickname, an endearing one as well. "Oh."

"Uhm... Well, if Moon isn't active, can you tell him to come find me once you're done?" The guard- ["-Sunshine." Moon supplied with a smirk in this tone.]

Sun groaned lightly, running a hand down his faceplate before smiling at the guard. "Or we could go together?"

Moon growled in the back of his head. "You cannot take my time! Sun! Go turn off the lights. Now."

Sunshine, the guard, looked shocked; it looked like this was so out of pocket for Sun to suggest. "Oh!... Are you able to leave the Daycare?" They curiously asked.

Sun hummed. "Yes, of course! If Moon can leave, why shouldn't I also be able?" he asked with a spin of his faceplate, causing Sunshine to let out a flustered giggle.

"True... Well, alright, if Moon doesn't mind," They said with a smile. Sun smiled sweetly as he heard Moon complain angrily, wandering around in their headspace. "He doesn't mind at all, Sunshine! It will be good for us to get to know each other!" He held his hand out to them, which they grabbed with a shy smile.

"Ooooo, when I get you, Sun." Moon hissed quietly in their shared head, to which the sunny side of the animatronic let out a quiet chuckle before looking down at Sunshine and guiding them to the massive doors at the entrance to the Daycare.

The two left the Daycare hand in hand to do security rounds. Maybe Moon was right about this one, Sun thought as he glanced down at the guard as they walked together.

This time it was different.

Not that Sun ever wanted to give Moon right, but perhaps he could let this guard close to them.

Just this one time.

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y0urm4m · 26 days

Text

“SUPERMAN”

Warnings:unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it 😮‍💨),car sex,semi public,smut,hook ups,swearing, alcohol usage,drug use,arguing, mentions of threesome, name calling ‘slut,baby’, mentions of vomit!

My entry for the writers comp by: @annamcdonalds67 (honestly was super fun to join in and do this so thanks for making the comp)

┈ ✃✃✃✁✁✃✁┈

Chris pov:

“Yo, pass me my lighter.” I told the girl next to me. She rolled her eyes passing me the lighter. The other girl sitting up grabbing her clothes.

“Right I’m heading out.” I mumbled, the two girls looking at each other before one of them spoke up. “He’ll come running back when he’s fed up with the next one, don’t worry Celina.” The blonde one spoke now scrolling her phone. “Of course he will, he always does.” Celina added.

I shook my head walking out. How can she say that when they were the ones begging me to fuck them, I laughed to myself at the thought as I pulled out the drive way.

— My phone buzzed. Jenna, what does he want. I broke it off with her weeks ago, she was so determined to stay I practically had to push her out my apartment. “What do you want jenna?” I mumbled puffing from the lit joint in my hand. “Hey Chris, am I gonna see you at the party tonight.” She giggled. I almost choked on smoke. “Yeah, but I ain’t there for you. So don’t be expecting anything.” I spat, ending the phone. I wasn’t going to not go cause she was there, I just had to stay away from her.

Reader pov:

I huffed looking down at my empty rolling box. My dealer was currently out of town, doing god knows what and I was currently completely out of weed.

I decided to call up Sydney to see if she had any other dealers. I clicked on her contact listening to the ring, “what’s up y/n.” She spoke. “Do y’know any possible dealers around town at the minute? I ran out.” I asked biting on my nails. I heard her huff through the phone. “I don’t know any dealers but there is Chris he always has some on him, I’ll send you his number one sec.” She replied sighing. “Alright, thanks.” I said smiling. “No problem girl, anyways I’ve got something to do bye love you.” She said. “Oh alright, love you too.” I replied ending the phone.

— I stared down at my phone, Chris’ number on my screen. It was only for some weed it should be fine I mumbled to myself and began typing.

:Sydney told me you could possibly hit me up with some weed?

:Uhm let me check how much I’ve got and I’ll get back to you

I rolled my eyes tapping my hand on the kitchen counter awaiting a reply. I was sat for around 15 minutes before I heard my phone buzz, I whipped my phone up to see what this Chris dude said.

:I have some spare but the only place I can meet is at this party I’m supposed to be at

:Oh I suppose I can meet there depending on where and what time

:It starts at like 9 or something I’ll just send the info I got sent

I chewed at my cheek looking at the address Chris had just sent me. Not much else I could do except go and hope I didn’t get mugged when I got there.

:I’ll be there

:alright lmk when you turn up

— I sighed finishing the last of my eyeliner and slipped my shoes on, heading towards the door. This was it I would just grab the weed and go home.

The whole drive there I was full of worry, until i was outside the house.

Just a classic house party, the uneasy feeling washed away. I headed up to the door walking past people already drunk out their mind, moving back as someone threw up right in-front of my feet. “Watch out!” I said pushing the drunk man back, rolling my eyes as I walked past him.

:you here yet

:yeah I’m near the front door

I was stood at the door awkwardly until I felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of my head. I turned around my gaze reaching a pare of blue eyes. I’m guessing this was Chris. I walked up to him.

“Are you Chris?” I asked, looking up at him. He looked me up and down, raising an eyebrow. “You’re who was messaging me about weed.” He chuckled. “Does that surprise you orr.” I replied looking confused. “Don’t worry about it, anyways you wanna smoke some with me now? Or you just going to leave?” He said sucking on his teeth.

I could either smoke with Chris or I could go home smoke and sleep. I guess I didn’t come here for nothing. “I guess I could stay a little longer.” I said smiling. “Alright, the only place I usually smoke is in the bathroom so follow me.” He said walking off, i just followed like a lost sheep.

— There me and Chris sat passing a zoot back and forth. Whatever strain Chris had, I’d never had before and it was strong. Although I wasn’t complaining.

“What is this shit, I’ve never had it but it hits the spot.” I giggled, looking at Chris. “It’s called gorilla glue.” He replied twirling the joint sat between his finger tips.

Our conversation was cut short as the bathroom door was practically slammed open. “There you are chrisss.” The girl slurred, as I grabbed her shoulders before she could slip over the bath mat. I raised an eyebrow at Chris, he rolled his eyes. “Jenna what the fuck are you doing?” He asked furrowing his eyebrows. She turned her head to the side looking at him, he shook his head. “I’m going to get a drink, I’ll just leave you two for a second.” I said slipping past the two of them heading straight for the drinks. I was not going to get involved with whatever was happening.

Shortly after I had left, I saw Chris walking up to me. But before he could get right up to me, another girl started speaking to him. What’s up with him and these girls. I watched him shake his head at them and walk over towards me. “You alright?” He asked looking down at me before grabbing a bottle of Jack that was next to us. “Uh yeah I’m all good.” I replied drinking the rest of my drink, squinting my eyes to look at the girls that were talking to Chris prior.

— “You wanna smoke another?” Chris asked motioning another joint towards me. I nodded slipping off the kitchen stool, pushing past drunk people dancing.

We sat outside this time sitting on the steps, I took a hit from the joint slowly making tiny o’s as I exhaled. This time the high hit even harder as there was now alcohol in my system.

“You high baby?” Chris chuckled, I didn’t even take time to process the nickname. “Yea.” I answered giggling, but after the thought of the way Chris had said the nickname it had my thighs clenching together for some sort of friction. Chris seemed to take notice of the way a reacted. “Yeah?” He spoke softly as I felt his hand start to make small circles on my thigh.

I felt a rush of confidence rush through my body as the words left my mouth. “We should take this back my place.” I said looking up at Chris through my doe eyes. His eyes shone with lust, “I don’t think you understand what you’re asking right now.” He chuckled,

And with that I was on my way to my house with someone I met not even 5 hours ago. We were sat in the car, Chris driving. His hand on my thigh once again. “Chris talk to me.” I whined. “You want me to tell you something?” He replied chuckling once again. “Uh huh.” I licked my chapped lips. “I know what you wanna hear.” He said taking a u turn pulling into an empty car park.

And there I found myself in the back of Chris’ car, sat on his lap. His hands rested around my waist as I pulled his lips into mine.

His lips parted slightly, allowing my tongue to slip inside. As one of his hands made its way to my ass squeezing it roughly.

I pulled back, grabbing the bottom of his top. “Fuck, you’re a desperate slut aren’t you.” He mumbled his head now rested in the crook of my neck. I hummed pulling his shirt over his head chucking it next to us.

— Chris began pulling my top off, my tits on full display. “No bra.” He said raising his eyebrow,a harsh breath left my lips as I felt his breath on my hardened nipple. He looked up at me. “This okay?” He asked. I nodded. “Words y/n.”he added sternly. “Yeah it’s fine.” I replied moving forward on his lap for some sort of friction. He grabbed my hips. “Patience,” He grumbled, flipping us over him now towering above me.

He looked down at my skirt, as if to ask for permission. I nodded my face flushing pink as he began pulling my skirt down. I pushed my hips up helping him take it off, my lacy underwear now on show. He smirked at the sight of my underwear, “This all for me.” He chuckled his eyes full of desire as he began to unzip his cargos and pull down his boxers with.

I reached my hands up to help pull them down, out of desire for immediate sexual relief.

“Fuck, so impatient.” He muttered shaking his head.

Finally pulling down the rest of his clothes, he smiled down at me. He was big, and I wasn’t even the slightest bit surprised.

He then pushed my panties to the side, running his fingertips over my clit making tiny circles before inserting his middle and ring finger inside me. “Fuck, Chris.” I gasped at the feeling of his fingers stretching me out.

He sped up, curling his fingers inside of me reaching places I didn’t even know existed. I let out a high pitched moan and the immediate pleasure flowing through out my body as Chris placed his other hand on my lower abdomen. “Shit.. Chris I’m close.” I whimpered at the feeling of the knot forming in my stomach. “No you’re not, you can wait to come on my cock.” He spat, pulling his fingers out of me. I whined at the loss of contact, but before I could begin to complain Chris’ hand was in-front of my mouth. “Spit.” He demanded. I collected the saliva around my mouth, spitting in his palm, a small grunt leave his lips.

He then used the spit as lubricant, pumping his dick a few times. “You sure you want this?” He asked, his other hand tucking the loose hairs behind my ears. “Yes.” I breathed out. He nodded moving the tip of his dick in-front of my entrance, slowly burring himself inside of me.

I hissed in pain at the stretch, as Chris began thrusting into me. “Fuck your so tight baby.” He groaned burying his face in the crook of my neck, my hands pushing through his brown locks of hair. His thrusts speeding up. The car windows fogging up, the only things heard were skin slapping and groans and moans slipping out of mine and Chris’ lips.

Suddenly Chris pulled me up by my waist, now I sat on his lap. His eyes still on mine, watching me as i pushed my hips up slowly sinking back down on his dick. “Fuck, Chris.” I moaned out. A Loud groan falling from his lips in return. His hands making their way back to my waist squeezing the flesh. I then began raising my hips and slowly sinking back down but it seemed as if Chris had other plans. Just as i began moving my hips back down, his hips jutted up thrusting into me causing me to let out a loud whimper. “You like, you dirty little slut.” He growled, squeezing the flesh on my hips even harder. There was definitely going to be bruises there tomorrow, no doubt about it.

“Fuck, Chris don’t stop.” I moaned, the knot in my stomach forming once again. “Yeah, you’re close aren’t you. I can fucking feel you clenching around me.” He grunted. I began toppling over, shockwaves of ecstasy rushing through my body as i came but Chris didn’t stop. He was trying to chase his own high now, i could tell he was close by the way his cock kept twitching inside of me.

He let out a loud groan slightly croaking out my name, as he shot ribbons of white inside my walls. I sighed. blissed out and out of breath.

— “ So am i dropping you home then.” He muttered pulling his boxers and cargos back up. I nodded slipping my clothes back on, looking down at my phone. Multiple missed calls and messages from Sydney. Shit she must be worried sick.

I had finally made it home, Chris dropping me off and driving away. I waved at the car, slipping into the front door, taking my shoes off and looked at my face in the mirror. The makeup I had put on before I left looked practically non-existent, my hair looked like a birds nest and my eyes looked as red as a tomato.

I brushed my hand through my hair sighing and taking time to recollect what had just happened. I just had sex with someone I hadn’t met even a day ago, what the fuck. I looked down at my phone, maybe Chris would have messaged me or something. Nothing, absolutely nothing.

I decided why don’t I message him instead. For 10 minutes I sat staring at the keyboard, my finger tips hovering the screen before I started typing.

:hey I hope you made it home safe

:yea I made it home fine

:good, we should see each other again some time

:yeah just hit me up when you need more

Oh. I didn’t mean about drugs of any sort, I genuinely wanted to see him again.

:That’s not really want I was talking about but yeah I will do

I guess I got the wrong intentions about what happened.

Read

Did he really just leave me on read. I sighed messaging Sydney but before I could send the message she was already calling me. “You fucked up girl, like bad.” She spoke as I could hear shouting in the background. “What do you mean? And what is going on in the back.” I asked my eyes widening as she spoke. “Well everyone knows you fucked Chris for one, and two I’ve got Jenna screaming in my face right now because of your actions tonight.” She muttered down the phone.

Jenna the drunk girl that I stopped from falling over, is now bitching about me. “I’m not the only girl he’s fucked since they broke up, anyways he literally left me on read so she can stop whining,” I replied rolling my eyes. “But I’ll call Chris and get him to sort her out, bye.” I mumbled, ending the phone and calling Chris.

“Chris you need to sort your little ex girlfriend out, cause she’s whining to Sydney about what happened earlier.” I said filing my nails. “Not my problem.” He spoke his mouth obviously full of food as it sounded like a mumble. “Chris fuck you, literally an hour ago you was moaning and groaning my name.” I spat, my blood boiling as he spoke. “Can’t get pissed off now, you was the one all over me ma.” He replied. My eyes widened at that sentence. “Y’know what actually kiss my ass Chris, I’m going to Sydney’s to sort your ex out and I swear down if you don’t come and at least pick her up I’ll drop her outside your front door and you can deal with her inside your house.” I spat through the phone ending it.

— I eventually turned up to see Sydney and Jenna outside, Jenna still crying and shouting. I strutted over, Jenna’s face dropping when she saw me. “What the fuck is she doing here.” She spat, her face full of disgust. “I’m here to sort this shit out, Chris is also on the way.” I said looking at Sydney who stood in her dressing gown. I felt bad for all the shit I’d caused tonight because of Chris.

My attention drifted to the sound of a car pulling up, Chris’ car to be in fact. He slipped out the car, joint in hand. I shook my head looking at him. “You gonna sort ‘your girl’ out!” I shouted at him, Jenna still going off. He shrugged looking down at Jenna, who was now sat on the floor, her makeup was also non existent.

“Chris you actually need to sort this whole situation out, playing around with girls and leaving them like this.” Sydney spoke joining Jenna on the floor. “I don’t even know why she’s being like this we broke up.” He shrugged once again. “Chris- I guess that’s what you think- but you didn’t even tell me you wanted to break up you just told me to leave.” Jenna slurred resting her head on Sydney’s shoulder. “What can I say, bitches they come and go.” He shrugged, finishing the joint and throwing the bud on the floor squishing it down with his shoe.

My eyebrows raised at the derogatory reply Chris had. “Really Chris, you have no respect do you.” I spat, folding my arms. “He wasn’t always like that Y’know,” Sydney piped in. “He isn’t the Chris I met 2 years ago, the Chris I knew wasn’t a drug dealer or a ‘fuck boy’. This was before he met Jenna, I don’t even know what happened to be honest.”

Chris’ face dropped as he walked over to Jenna. “Come on Jenna, I’ll drop you home.” He sighed, looking down at the drunk girl.

Sydney stood up, walking over to me. “Do you just want to come in? It’s late as shit, you can just go home tomorrow.” She asked, tightening her dressing gown. I nodded, before turning to look back at Chris and Jenna, Jenna quickly hunching over vomiting on Chris’ shoes. “Shit!” He shouted jumping back a bit. “I’m sorry Chris.” She mumbled standing up and walking over to Chris’ car. “I’ll see you later Chris.” Sydney spoke, as she walked inside. I looked back at Chris shaking my head before walking inside Sydney’s place. Leaving Chris who was trying to get vomit off his trainers and Jenna who had already fallen asleep in the car.

Chris pov:

I sighed, turning the corner to drop Jenna home. The comment Sydney had said earlier replaying in my head.

‘He isn’t the Chris I met 2 years ago, the Chris I knew wasn’t a drug dealer or a ‘fuck boy’. This was before he met Jenna, I don’t even know what happened to be honest.’

She was right though, I wasn’t always like this. I was in the wrong group of friends before I met Jenna or y/n or any of the girls I’d slept with in fact. The group of friends I was in was the reason I am how I am, the reason I do the drugs I do and the reason I’m like this. But I can’t really blame them for how shitty I treat people, I usually go home recollect what had happened that day and smoke my life away.

Flash back:

“Yo Chris try some of this!” Nathaniel shouted to me jogging over. A joint, I’d never had any sort of drug before. “I uh- I don’t know- I don’t smoke.” I said looking down at my feet. “Awh c’mon man don’t be a party pooper.” Leonard piped in throwing his arm around my shoulder. I bit my cheek looking at Nathaniel take a puff from the joint. “I guess I could try it.” I sighed, Nathaniel handing me it.

I gulped, brining it in between my lips. Taking a big toke, I could feel my chest tighten as I exhaled. Almost coughing my guts up, everyone around me laughing at my reaction.

End of flash back:

I remember sitting by myself for the rest of the night but the next time they offered I took it once again, my main priority was to prove I could smoke.

But then when I began smoking, then came all the girls wanting to hook up with me. At first I would refuse and say no as I had a girlfriend, my first girlfriend ever. Although that didn’t go to plan as I walked in on her fucking Nathaniel, that’s when I had stopped being friends with that group but the bad habits didn’t stop. I just became worse and what i guess you could call a drug addict and a piece of shit.

If I could warn my younger self of all the horrible people and stuff awaiting him in the future I would, I’d tell him it’s not about ‘popularity’ or even ‘having a girlfriend’ and to have fun to a certain extent whilst he can.

I’ve caused a lot of drama in the past but tonight I just wanted to wake up and it be a dream. Y/n was a genuinely nice person and I feel shit for fucking her over, Sydney was done with all the drama and Jenna, she needed an apology, sleep and aspirin for when she woke up.

Once I had made it to Jenna’s place, i helped her inside. And placed some aspirin I had found in the glove box, on her side sighing as I left.

I slid into the drivers seat pulling out my phone, calling Sydney and apologising. “I’m sorry for all the shit tonight Syd.” I spoke rubbing my hand over my face. “It’s not just me you need To apologise to chris did you just forget about y/n.” She sighed through the phone. “I was going to call her after.” I replied, still sat outside Jenna’s house. “Well maybe you should call her now Chris, I’m gonna go bye.” She muttered ending the phone.

I drove to my apartment before calling y/n so she had all my attention.

I clicked on her contact, calling her. “What do you want Chris?” She asked. “I just wanted to apologise for everything earlier and for leaving you on read.” I spoke, biting my cheek. “It’s fine Chris, i understand it’s how you ‘roll’ now.” She replied. “Also maybe if you were still up for it I could take you out to make up for today?” I asked,rocking my knee. “I don’t know Chris after what happened tonight.” She sighed as I could taste blood from how much I was biting on my cheek. “I shouldn’t have asked it’s fine, after tonight it’s understandable.” I said as she said something inaudible to Sydney. “Y’know what, why not Chris.” She added. “Alr-” I began speaking but she butted in. “But one thing, you have to stop messing around with these girls it’s unfair. I’m not going to get involved with the whole drug situation as I can’t say much myself but messing around with girls is a no go.”

“I promise I’ll stop fucking around with girls.” I replied smiling slightly. I didn’t expect her to say yes to be honest because of everything that happened. “Right I’ll speak to you tomorrow Chris, I need sleep after everything that’s happened today.” She muttered, I chuckled slightly. “Alright, night I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I replied ending the phone.

That night I made a promise, a promise I never broke and never would break.

——————————

A/N: The enddd, this took foreverrr to write. Honestly don’t know how to feel about it but it was fun to write. Anyways hope you enjoyed — hugs and kisses Gracie 💋

Tag list: @junnniiieee07

124 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 2 months

Text

Saint Cillian and the photoshoot

I haven't watched Peaky Blinders and I am not really planning to. By the same token, I am still pondering if losing three hours with Oppenheimer is a brilliant plan or a desperate patch for a long, rainy Sunday afternoon. Hell, I even have no idea if it's still shown anywhere in Athens and have plenty of other things to get myself busy with. So I can't tell you anything about Cillian Murphy's acting abilities - besides the obvious 'he's been around for quite some time now, and not too shabby', I have absolutely no idea.

Two days ago, the UK edition of the GQ magazine proclaimed Murphy 'The Man of the Moment' and celebrated it with a substantial photoshoot you can peruse here: https://www.instagram.com/p/C3S27bfgO1X/?igsh=aGYweGg5bWpkOWo4

Yes, it should totally ring a bell:

Phew...

Or... uhm, this uber cringey...

Now imagine I am the not-so-friendly diplomat in Mars Attacks and I know next to nothing about gender on Planet Earth. Remember (LOL)?

Ahem. As a Martian, I would surely think, based on that photoshoot and with no particular curiosity to double-check, that Cillian Murphy is projecting here, as a wonderfully sarcastic friend (thank you, dearie, always 🙌❤️😘😘) put it in a recent convo, 'a flamboyantly gay, fame whore vibe which is the opposite of everything Cillian is. '

I have no reason to question my wonderfully sarcastic friend's sanity. The man is married since forever to Yvonne McGuinness, a real visual artist with real credentials (uh-oh!), plus he is also a very dedicated father of two teenage boys. Intensely private Murphy never talks about his love life/marital bliss in the scarce interviews he grants. And I bet no cuckoo 'snark corner' exists in his fandom (he has to have one, right?) to question this absolutely legitimate PR strategy.

This also should make absolutely clear to the Disgruntled Tumblrettes and other cheap trolls out there that, once and for all, actors cannot choose their photoshoot outfits or poses. These are, of course, discussed by said actor and his/her PR with the magazine people, the photographer and his team. But ultimately, the overall concept and its implementation are left to the magazine (who ordered and paid for the shoot) and the creative team. Trying to fathom someone's sexual orientation based on an ephemeral image, tailored to fit a particular type of targeted content, is akin to the deepest, most worrying brand of delusional stupidity.

Video killed the radio star, double standard and parochialism killed OL's fandom more surely and effectively than *urv & Paul C's in(s)anity.

#fandom #shitshow

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borathae · 10 months

Text

↳ Index [Chapter 39 - Peg]

Pairing: Taehyung x f.Reader

Warnings: Smut, switching but it is mostly: sub!Taehyung & soft Dom!Reader, basically she goes all 🥴 once he returns the favour, yk?, sex on a chaise lounge in front of a mirror, making out, body worshipping, first time pegging, he calls her Empress, praise & good boy kink, he wants to be called breedable, he strips for her, rimjob, anal fingering, handjob, frotting with her strap & his dick, he is such a cutie pattootie, subby boy tears, a lil bit of overstimulation for him, nipple & breast play, oral (f.receiving), face sitting, vaginal fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), this is lovemaking at its finest, ah yes he sits on her lap then she gives it to him missionary, i’m gonna bite something this is so sensual & full of emotion

Wordcount: 13.3k

a/n: *horny in love noises*

Classical music on a record player greets you. The scent of expensive red wine and acrylic paints lingers in the air. Jungkook and Yoongi left after early morning breakfast. Yoongi needed to gain back his strength and therefore the two vampires went out hunting. They haven’t returned yet. Jimin went into town as well, meeting up with Hoseok in their dance studio. They won't be back until later. Which leaves you alone at the estate and therefore with an opportunity to talk to Taehyung. He deserves a chance at talking everything out.

“My darling?” you try.

Taehyung is sitting on the floor, painting the clouds of his newest artwork. He doesn’t lift his head.

“You are awake. Welcome back”, he says dryly.

“Yeah uhm…can I talk to you or are you busy?” you ask him.

“Depends on what you are going to say”, he murmurs.

“I wanted to start with an apology.”

Taehyung stops moving his brush and lifts his eyes. Just his eyes.

“I know that I’m admitting it way too late, but I wasn’t myself lately and because of it I hurt you.”

Taehyung takes a deep breath, straightening up.

“I am not upset about that. We already solved this issue”, he says.

“So what are you upset about then? I want to fix it.”

“Your stubbornness.”

“I…see.”

“And what you said to me. You told me that you hated me. Why would you say that? I was merely trying to prevent you from hurting yourself even more and you said something so awful.”

“I know, I-”, you stop in your steps as you hurried closer to him without asking, “can I come closer?”

“Yes.”

“Tae, my darling”, you say, hurrying to him. You sit down next to him, placing your hand on his knee, “I regret saying what I said. I don’t hate you and telling you something like this was awful of me to do. I’m so sorry.”

Taehyung acknowledges you with a nod of his head. He places his brush in the glass of dirty paint water and rests his hand atop yours.

“I am also asking you to never call me by my full name again. I don’t want to be Kim Taehyung to you, I want to be your darling or sweetest or Tae. Just anything other than my full name”, he widens his eyes pleadingly, “please”, he whispers.

“I understand. It must have hurt to be addressed this way. I won’t do it again and I’m sorry that I even did it in the first place.”

“Thank you”, Taehyung says, looking relieved, “it feels good to be apologised to.”

“It’s what you deserve”, you give him a warm smile, “I put you through so much lately and I gotta own up to my shit.”

“Thank you. I really needed to hear this from you.”

“Of course, my darling”, you say, caressing his knee, “I will do better from now on. No more mad witch moments, promise.”

Taehyung laughs, lowering his eyes shyly. You snicker, nudging him gently.

“Can I give you a kiss, my sweetest?” you ask him.

He nods his head, leaning in with his eyes closed. It is a chaste kiss. Sweet and soft and meant to remind you how lovely it is to kiss each other.

You pull back, eyes racing between Taehyung’s as your hand caresses his knee.

“I”, he begins, “I was so worried for you”, he confesses, “I kept checking up on you, but you wouldn’t wake. Are you truly alright now? Is Yoongi alright?”

“We’re both okay”, you assure him, “I feel rested and Yoongi is alright. He is already out hunting with Kook. I actually did it, Tae. I fixed everything.”

“I know. I still can’t believe that you did. You worried me greatly.”

“You don’t have to worry anymore, sweetest. I slept so well and I feel so refreshed.”

“Yes? Did you eat already?”

“I did. I ate the yummiest carbonara ever. I haven’t felt that full in ages. It’s nice to enjoy food again.”

“That’s good to hear”, Taehyung says and smiles softly.

You retort it and somehow this makes his smile fall. He furrows his brows and pouts sadly.

“What’s the matter, darling?” you ask him.

“I just...” his voice pitches in emotion as he speaks, “it’s been too long since I’ve seen you smile”, he confesses and throws his hand over his mouth to muffle his sob. He squeezes his eyes shut, curling into himself as he sobs again.

“Tae, my darling”, you gasp and pull him into a hug instantly, “I’m here, don’t cry.”

His face falls into the crook of your neck, his arms close around you tightly. He presses out a squeaky sob, twisting the fabric of your jumper.

“It hurt so much to see you fail and to be helpless myself”, he confesses, “I wanted to keep you safe and yet had to watch you kill yourself slowly. I was in so much pain.”

“You did everything you could do. I know it is easier said than done, but please don’t blame yourself.”

“But I do. I know you are healed again, but I feel so guilty”, Taehyung says and shudders in a sob, “I should have done so much more.”

“No, Tae. Darling”, you shake him off just so you can cradle his face. He looks up at you with tear-filled eyes and his lips trembling as he holds back his sobs, “I would have died without you. I’m not lying to you when I tell you that. You were the one who kept me alive. You fed me, forced me to sleep, held me so I could rest even if I pretend that I didn’t need to rest and you helped me with my magic as much as you could. If you didn’t take care of me, I would have worked myself to death.”

He spills tears, whimpering incredibly sadly.

You wipe his tears away, tilting his head so you could kiss his forehead. Taehyung exhales shakily because of it.

“You did the most important job by keeping me alive, my sweetest Tae”, you whisper, running your thumbs over his temples, “and I won’t ever take your support for granted. So thank you for everything you did these past nine weeks and also I’m sorry for everything you had to endure.”

Taehyung lifts his head. He stopped crying, but looks at you with glassy eyes. His lips aren’t trembling anymore, but still pout.

“I know it will still take some time for us to return to normalcy and I don’t expect you to accept my apology. When you still need some time to yourself, then-”

“I don’t want time to myself”, Taehyung interrupts you, “all I have wanted for these past nine weeks was to know that you were alright and that I could rest my eyes without fearing that you are dying somewhere I can’t find you. I want to be with you, ___ and I want to know that you are healthy.”

“And I want to be with you, Tae”, you tell him and give him a reassuring smile, “and I’m healthy. I’m okay now. At least my body is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to work on my magic. Meredith told me that I have lots of chaos in my head and that if I don’t work on my focus, I might end up dying.”

“What?” Taehyung chokes out. He shakes his head vigorously, “no. No, please don’t.”

You stop him with a gentle touch to his cheeks, “I won’t die”, you whisper, kissing the tip of his nose, “I will have Yoongi teaching me control, Meredith offered me her help as well and I will have you…”, you smile, tracing his lips, “…by my side, being my beautiful darling and my most loved Tae.”

“So you love me?” he whispers.

“I love you so much that I want to move mountains for you”, you say and giggle, “maybe one day I will, when I know how to focus my magic.”

Taehyung laughs. Honestly and shyly. You laugh with him, tracing the smile lines appearing on his cheeks. He looks so beautiful when he smiles.

“You would truly move mountains for me?” he asks.

“Yes I would, my darling Tae.”

“Wow”, he breathes and exhales shakily. He lowers his eyes for a moment. Inhale. Exhale. He lifts his head and smiles, pulling you into a tight hug. The kind of hug, which lets you know that everything was okay again between you and him. The kind of hug, which consumes you. And the kind of hug, which makes you glad that despite all the hurdles you and he had to climb over, you were still one. You close your arms around him and bury your hand in his hair. Just as Taehyung does to you. And you kiss his neck, while he makes sure he reminds his heart how you smell when you are healthy.

And as you do, the record on his player comes to an end, filling the room with the rhythmic clicking of the needle moving without purpose. But it had purpose to you and it had purpose to him, because it meant that the hard times came to an end. The music stopped and with it, showcased that the problems and struggles and tears were now truly a thing of the past.

All you had to do now was to flip the record and start new songs. Unheard songs of good days, warm hugs and loving memories.

You and he move back at the same time, looking deep into each others’ eyes.

“The music stopped”, you whisper.

“I know”, he whispers back.

“Should we get up and flip the record?”

“Let it turn. I don’t want you to slip away again”, he says.

“I can live with that”, you say with your eyes racing over his features. You can’t look away. He is so beautiful.

His eyes flit to your lips, his tongue darts out to wet his own, “darling, can we kiss again?”

“Of course, I would love nothing more than that”, you say and cup his cheek, allowing your eyes to fall closed as you lose yourself in the kiss.

Taehyung closes his eyes, fingers closing around your wrists to hold them gently.

He tastes like red wine and vanilla lip balm. His lips are so soft, moving against yours slowly and almost tentatively. His breath swirls over your cheek as he exhales through his nose and just seconds later, his fingertips replace the sensation. He traces your cheek and cups it gently, chasing you to deepen the kiss.

Your hand slips to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. It feels so soft between your fingers, wrapping around you as if this was its only purpose. To be held and caressed by you. And perhaps it was. It would explain why Taehyung shivered oh so much as you did.

Taehyung whimpers. It has been too long since you last kissed him like that. He doesn’t blame you. He is aware that you grieved. You didn’t blame him when he refused intimacy for months on end because of his grief. And so he didn’t do either. Not for one second he blamed you for grieving the way you did. But he can’t deny that he missed your touches greatly, needing nothing more than to be closer to you. Closer. Oh so much closer.

He gets on his knees, holds your face to keep kissing you and draws closer. He sits down on your lap, lifting his shoulders to his ears as this was the only way to kiss you whilst holding your face.

You smile, running your hands down his back until you can hold his hips. He is comfortably heavy on your lap, sharing heat with you that way. You like the feeling a lot. He is so, so warm and his thighs are so soft as you feel them up.

Taehyung breaks the kiss because of it, giggling shyly as he sways his shoulders from side to side.

“Not there please”, he whispers, reaching down to fix the position of your hands. They were caressing his inner thighs before that, now resting on his hips. Taehyung squirms and sways his shoulders again, looking at you cutely.

“Why?” you ask him.

“I’m too sensitive”, he confesses.

“I see”, you smile, “you’re really precious, Tae sweetest”, you add, making him sway and pull the cutest face in existence. It makes his cheeks stick out and appear oh so soft and squishy.

You cup them because that is all they deserve to be. Held and caressed. And kissed. You pull his head closer, placing a soft kiss on each of his cheeks. He giggles because of it, closing his eyes. His fingers slip to your chest, resting there without any ulterior motive. The mere connection is enough for him.

“My sweetest darling”, you whisper, trailing your kisses to his jawline, “you’re my prettiest. Yes, you are.”

Taehyung sways happily, almost having to squeal from how good you make him feel. You dance your fingers up his torso, brushing against the edge of his shirt on accident. It slips off his shoulder, revealing his collarbone to your lips. Taehyung giggles with the first kiss, swaying his shoulders cutely. It makes you lift your head, eyes running over his pretty stature.

“Do you think that I am beautiful?” he asks you, holding his breath afterwards.

“Of course I do. You are so beautiful. Tae”, you gasp, touching his waist gently, “Tae, my darling, do you think that I don’t find you beautiful?”

He shakes his head, hiding his mouth behind his little fists.

“I wanted to be praised”, he confesses and giggles, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I see”, you smile, “well if that’s so, then I think that you are the most beautiful”, you say, caressing his waist.

Taehyung wiggles and drops his hands to instead fumble with the buttons of his shirt. He opens the first one, making the shirt slip down even more. His eyes are glued to your face, drinking in your every change of reaction. He is gnawing on his lower lip cutely.

You allow him to work with bated breath. You know what he is planning to do and it excites you so very much. Taehyung is so talented in undressing. Especially when he feels submissive that night. He is so sensual and pretty in his movements and knows exactly how to make your heart flutter. Tonight is now different, your heart flutters like crazy because of him.

Another button opens, the shirt slips down his other shoulder as well, now sitting around his elbows and reaching him just above his nipples. One little movement and they would be exposed as well. He drops his hands to your lap, putting some of his weight on your thighs as he rocks back and forth a few times. His eyes are full of playful seduction and innocent curiosity. He wants you to take the next step, to decide what will happen, to give in to your desires.

“You are prettier than art, my darling”, you praise him, tracing the edge of his shirt. Your fingertips tickle his skin, eliciting goosebumps all over his chest.

Taehyung sticks his butt out, arching his chest closer to you. It happens willfully that he bites down on his lower lip, eyes widening just enough to give him a cute puppy-like appearance.

You run your fingers up his chest, stopping by his defined collarbones to trace them.

“Like touching moonlight”, you whisper, melting in fondness when Taehyung’s eyes soften in adoration, “I haven’t said that in ages, have I?”

He shakes his head, shimmying closer just enough that you can see the sparkles in his pretty eyes.

“My body feels so sensitive”, he whispers, eyes racing between yours, “everything you say and do makes my skin prickle.”

“It does?”

“Yes. Yes, it does. So very much. I, I want to be touched”, he says, “can we continue? It feels so good.”

“Of course. Oh, my darling”, you whisper, giving Taehyung a soft tug on his hair to tilt his head back.

“Ah”, he moans, laughing shyly in the newly exposed position you nudged him into. He stops laughing just seconds later when he feels your lips and tongue on his neck. He squeezes his thighs together on your lap, chasing the friction of you with rolls of his hips. Sensitive. So sensitive. Every touch feels like magic.

"I want to keep touching you. You deserve to be touched and explored and worshipped", you whisper between neck kisses, playing with his hair slowly. You don’t have to hold it anymore, Taehyung stays in this position willingly.

He begins unbuttoning his shirt even more, doing so with shaky fingers. He hopes that you will like the surprise. He wants to be your pretty good boy tonight.

The fabric opens, brushing over his skin and leaving goosebumps behind. He wants your fingertips to replicate the sensation.

Taehyung moves away from your kiss and takes your hands. You allow him, watching him with fond curiosity. The taste of him lingers on your lips, making you ache for more. But you know better than to stress him. Tonight is all about him.

He guides your hands to his tummy, drawing attention to it and with it your eyes.

“Look at you”, you whisper. His abs faded over the terrible year he had. The softest, most beautiful stomach replaced them. You touch him, dancing your fingertips over his tender skin.

Taehyung sighs, squirming shyly because the touch feels so very good.

“How are you so beautiful, my sweetest?” you ask him, cupping his waist just to squeeze it gently, “tell me, how shall I ever function when you are so pretty?”

Taehyung giggles. He giggles loudly and cutely. And he wiggles his shoulders as he does.

“More please”, he begs with sparkly eyes. He takes off his shirt, presenting himself with a sensual arch of his back afterwards, “more please.”

You smile at him, running your hands up his torso along the paths of his soft tummy and later chest. You stop right under his nipples, eliciting an excited gasp from him.

“My darling boy”, you whisper, brushing your thumbs over his nipples.

“Oh”, Taehyung moans, shuddering on your lap.

His nipples are hard within seconds. You massage them slowly, basking in how much he squirms because of it. His skin is covered in goosebumps, his cheeks are flushed just slightly. He giggles.

“Do you like that?” you ask in a fond chuckle.

Taehyung giggles and nods his head.

“Yes?”

“Yes. So much”, and there he goes, giggling again, “I’m so sensitive.”

“I know, my sweetest. You’re doing so very well.”

“Can you fuck me?” Taehyung asks in a whisper and squirms.

“You want me to fuck you?” you gasp for his question surprised you.

Taehyung couldn’t help it. You praised him and that makes him very desperate.

“Yes…peg me. I, I-” he blushes, “I, ah”, he manages to get out. It is enough for you to understand how desperately needy he was for you.

“Pegging? What is that?”

“You fuck me with a strap on”, he explains, “I promise it feels like heaven to you. I own the one which pleasures you as well.”

“That sounds so hot. I can fuck you too? That’s possible?”

Taehyung nods his head, squirming on your lap.

“Wow…” you whisper, “I really want to do this with you.”

Taehyung laughs breathily, “I’m so happy”, he confesses and cups your face, “shall we put it on?”

“Yes.”

And so you leave his atelier with excited giggles on your lips.

Taehyung opens the secret door and leads you inside. It was red, made out of wood and located behind his coats in his dressing room. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes the first time he showed it to you, calling it the coolest thing right after his secret mural door.

You then proceeded to believe your eyes even less when Taehyung showed you what lies behind those doors. A playroom with an array of toys and kinky furniture everywhere. The ceilings were covered in mirrors and the walls were the darkest burgundy. That night, he showed you the beauty of owning such a room. You sometimes think of that night and get wet.

Taehyung guides you to his dildo collection, walking with a happy skip.

“I am so excited”, he confesses, “I've dreamt of being your bottom for so long.”

“That’s hot, Tae. Like really hot.”

Taehyung pulls out the lowest drawer, revealing a collection of harnesses.

“Pick one”, he tells you.

You run your eyes over them. They all looked well-taken care of. They are so hot. Thinking about wearing them turns you on.

“You have so many.”

“Yes, I am an avid collector. You know me”, he says and snickers, “besides, I need to be prepared for the annual vampire orgy.”

You sneak a glance at him.

“How come I've never heard of that before?”

“I sadly had to miss out on it for two consecutive years because of what happened. But I am planning to organise a very special orgy this coming summer.”

“Ah I see”, you chuckle, “well, I’m not one to stop you. Do warn me though, so I can flee before I become food.”

Taehyung chuckles.

“Don’t you worry, I will warn you. Yoongi loathes these orgies, so I figure he will take you somewhere fancy.”

“I'm counting on it”, you say and pick up a purple leather harness, “I like this one.”

“Oh it will look beautiful on you. Do you want to put it on?”

“Yes, I would love to put it on.”

And so Taehyung helps you undress yourself and then put on the harness. He shows you what to put on so you would feel the fuck as well and together you try it out. You really like the sensation and therefore decide to keep it on. Then Taehyung helps you with securing the strap in the back, working diligently as you share in comfortable and intimate silence. He travels his hands over your waist until he can massage the part of your body where your hips meet your pubic area. He kisses your shoulder, resting his chin on it afterwards.

“How are you feeling?” he asks you.

“Good. It feels so nice”, you answer him, chasing his touch.

Taehyung runs his hands closer to your middle, drawing your eyes down to them. He traces the dildo, before wrapping his fingers around its base. You gasp as if he truly touched you. If you concentrate hard enough, you can almost feel his touch.

“How does it feel to have a cock?” he asks, jerking you off slowly.

You watch him with blown-out pupils and with your breathing quickening. His fingers glide over your silicone length so gracefully, looking oh so tempting.

“It kind of feels exciting”, you confess.

“Once you mastered your magic, I can show you magnificent spells. Spells, which you won’t believe are possible”, he whispers.

“Really?”

“Mhm, spells that will make your strap feel as if it was a real cock.”

“I can do that?”

“Mhm”, he stubs your neck with his nose, “with the right teacher.”

You chuckle and sigh at the same time, chasing his fist in a sensual roll of your hips. You reach behind yourself, twisting a bundle of his hair.

“Mhhm Tae”, you purr, resting your head against his chest, “I get a feeling that you will show me the most twisted of spells.”

He holds his breath, looking at you nervously. Did he go too far?

“I kinda love it”, you add and laugh lazily, “fuck, you drive me insane.”

Taehyung moans needily, feeling his knees buckle.

“I want to be fucked, please”, he begs.

You open your eyes and turn your head as best as possible to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

You turn, placing your hands on his chest. A playful smirk curls your lips, your eyes lower in seduction.

“I want to fuck you so good, Tae”, you rasp.

“Oh”, he lets out and sways, “oh god, ___”, he whispers shakily, “I, I don’t want to do it here.”

“Yeah? Just lead the way.”

He nods his head vigorously and squirms out of your touch. He flees from you in a happy skip, giggling as he does. You follow him with a fond smile. He is leading you outside to the chaise lounge in the dressing room. It was big enough to house two big people comfortably and it was of a deep purple colour.

“You’re so cute”, you say, gazing at Taehyung.

“I feel so pretty”, Taehyung says and twirls, stopping with a sensual sway of his shoulders. His lower lip slips between his teeth, his delicate hands run down his torso. He widens his eyes at you. Playfully just as much as shyly.

“Am I pretty?” he asks, swaying his shoulders.

“Of course you are. My prettiest”, you say.

Taehyung giggles and lowers his eyes bashfully.

“Can I show myself to you?” he asks, dancing his fingers down to the hem of his pants.

“I would love nothing more”, you say, ogling the prominent dent in his pants. Oh how you crave to see him.

Taehyung opens the prettily done bow of his pants, tugging on it slowly. Then he hooks his fingers in the hem, going slow in exposing himself. First his groomed pubes. They tease you for more, guiding your eyes down to his pretty cock. Taehyung is holding the pants in such a way that all you can see is its girthy base. Only a glimpse. Nothing but a little appetizer.

The anticipation makes you lick your lips. You crave him like nothing else.

Taehyung moves again. His shaft. Veiny and oh so very clearly hard. How it stays in his pants is a mystery to you.

“I want you”, you confess in a hushed whisper.

Taehyung sways his shoulders and tugs on his pants. His cock springs free. You gasp, following it with hungry eyes. It throbs just once, dribbling the prettiest pearls of excitement. Dark flushed cock against the darkest pubes. Oh the view drives you crazy.

You step closer, seeking him. You can’t control yourself any longer. You need him like air.

Taehyung however flees you. He steps back and giggles, lets you grab air, taunts you with an innocent look.

Your eyes meet. The desperation in your gaze makes his cock throb again.

“No touching”, he says and sways his shoulders adorably.

“You drive me insane”, you whisper, gazing at his cock, “please let me touch. You’re so beautiful.”

Taehyung shakes his head and smiles cutely. He touches himself. No movements. He merely wraps his elegant fingers around his girthy shaft to hold his cock in place. You stare and salivate. Honestly if your cock was real, it would be twitching like crazy right now.

“What do you want to do to me?” he asks, squeezing down on his veins until his flushed tip leaks little droplets of temptation. Oh how tempted you are to taste him.

“What?”

“What do you want to do to me?”

This is a game to him. He wants to rile you up, needs you to describe the kinky shit to him. And you fucking love playing. You draw closer just a little. Not too much. You don’t want him to flee again. Oh how you want him.

“I want to take your cock and jerk it off until it’s throbbing.”

“Like this?” Taehyung asks and massages his cock.

“Yeah…” you watch it with a tingling stomach. He is leaking so much.

“What else?” he sighs, putting on the prettiest show as he jerks himself. You draw closer. Taehyung flees.

Your gazes meet.

He giggles innocently.

You feel angry in desperation.

“Tell me the truth”, he taunts with sparkling eyes.

“I want to take you and bend you over that chaise lounge, I want to jerk your pretty cock and fuck your tight ass until you're crying. And honestly if you fucking flee one more time, I’m actually gonna lose it.”

Taehyung moans, dropping his cock to instead grip his own waist.

“Empress”, he pleads.

You have him. You won. You step closer and Taehyung feels his knees buckle. Your strap graces his cock, sending a jolt of electricity through him. You reach up and take his chin between two of your fingers.

“Get on this stupid piece of furniture now and let me do my goddamn thing”, you rasp.

“I want to kiss your feet”, Taehyung croaks, looking utterly star struck.

“You can do that later”, you say and release his chin.

Taehyung springs into action instantly. He kneels down on the chaise lounge, placing his hands on the backrest of it. Like this, he can arch his back and therefore flaunt his round bubble butt.

You feel your tummy flutter at the view. He is so sexy, moving so temptingly sensual.

He looks over his shoulder, fluttering his lashes at you.

“Am I breedable, Empress?”

“Excuse me?” you gasp, widening your eyes.

Taehyung moans softly and arches his back. Like this, his pretty hole is exposed.

“Am I a pretty boy, Empress?”

“O-of course you are, damn”, you clear your throat, “goddamn it, Tae. You are so hot like this.”

Taehyung wiggles his hips and bends over, presenting his untouched hole to you.

“You can do whatever you want to me. I'm breedable and good.”

“You’re insane for talking like this.”

“Am I embarrassing?”

“Of course not. You’re just too much, I’m so fucking wet.”

He poses for you with a soft moan, looking oh so proud of himself.

You step closer, having to touch him. He tenses up and shudders, moaning softly. You feel him up. His skin is soft. He is burning up.

“You drive me insane, Tae. Actually insane”, you whisper, drinking in the view. Round buttocks and pretty hole. It’s not as pink as Jungkook’s is. It’s darker - matching his cock - but just as pretty. Pretty and oh so fucking tempting. Part of you wants to stuff it with your strap right here and now, while another part of you wants to explore it for hours. Oh, you can’t get enough of this man.

“Am I good enough?” he asks breathily, “does my hole please you?”

“Taehyung, I'm so bloody obsessed that it’s hard to breathe. All I want to do is lick it.”

Taehyung moans, fluttering his lashes.

“Please lick me, Empress”, he begs and arches his back.

“Mhhhm Tae, you’re so…” , you drift off as your eyes run over his untouched hole. You have to change that. You connect your thumb with his rim. Taehyung gasps and arches into your touch, “you’ve got such a pretty hole”, you praise him.

“Does it look breedable, Empress?”

“Mhm, so breedable. You look like such a pretty cum dump, Tae darling. All tight and dainty. I bet you could keep so much cum inside, mhm?”

Taehyung moans loudly, writhing in bliss. You can watch just how deep he falls into the headspace, how you have him hooked on your fingers. One wrong word and you could probably break him. One right word and you could most definitely ruin him.

“Yes”, he moans, “yes, I’m breedable and, and tight. I, I can be a bred boy for hours.”

This is going to haunt you. All of this. Taehyung in such a headspace is going to goddamn haunt you.

“You’re such a good boy. Fuck Tae, I can’t take it anymore. I want to rim you.”

“Do whatever you want, Empress. I can take anything”, he consents with the knowledge that you are aware of his boundaries. Truly, offering himself as someone so entirely without control feels so good to do because he knows that you respect each and every single boundary he has. You can do whatever you want with him, because you won’t go too far. Taehyung feels dizzy at the aspect of being so entirely at your mercy.

“You are such a good boy”, you praise and lower yourself to your knees, grabbing his hips as you do. The floor feels hard and cold on your knees, but you don’t mind. You have better things to do, like pull Taehyung down and onto your tongue.

“Ah!” he yelps, reaching behind himself to grab your hair, “Empress!”

He tastes sweet, grinding on the flat of your tongue each time he wiggles his hips. You purr deeply and close your eyes. He feels so good. His puckered hole flutters and tenses as you taste him, his hips keep squirming under your fingers, his hand grips you so desperately.

“Don’t stop please”, he begs, “it feels so good. Oh, it feels so good.”

You purr deliciously, having your eyes closed in bliss. You goddamn love giving head. Your men are always so reactive and cute when you do and the surge of pleasurable confidence this gives you makes you feel so goddamn attractive. And happy. Very, very happy because you know that you can make them feel good.

And Taehyung deserves to feel good. After all the shit you put him through lately, he deserves to feel nothing but the most amazing and wonderful sensations.

You run your hands along his thighs, lingering on the beginning of his buttocks to trace his heated flesh. It feels so plump and heavy between your fingers.

“You’re perfect”, you moan into him, squeezing his butt, “you’re so fucking perfect.”

Your tongue slips between his buttocks without struggle, poking and teasing his hole in quick swirls. You dirty him in your drool, but you don’t care. He makes you salivate, he is so goddamn delicious.

Taehyung moans and lets his head fall back, revelling in the sensations with his thumb dimpling the pillows of the chaise lounge. Your warmth borders unbearable. Taehyung forgot just how warm your touch feels, how gentle and soft you love him but at the same time with just how much intense passion you explore him.

“Please don’t stop”, he begs, tilting his head back even further. It reveals his throat for no one to see but the burning candles and whatever entity may hide in the invisible worlds in between.

You dig your fingers deeper, dimpling his flesh and parting him for better access. Like this, his hole opens just enough for you to be able to explore those truly delicate and sensitive parts of him.

The sound that forces out of sweet Taehyung goes straight to your core. You can feel him tremble in reaction. You are so greedy for more. Moaning desperately, you try to breach him with your tongue. You have to be harsh for it, rough and filled with an almost angry strength. You struggle at first. He is clenching so much in excitement that it is hard to fill him up. You don’t want to give up. You have to claim him. One more try. Your tongue wiggles and swirls. Wiggles and swirls. Wiggles and breaches him.

Your name falls from his lips in a loud and pitched moan, his head bounces to the front and hits the edge of the backrest. His fingers slip from your hair to grip the chaise lounge. He whimpers loudly and clenches around you.

You mewl in bliss, burying yourself as deep as your tongue allows you to go. You claimed him. And he tastes like heaven. You have to have him. All you want to do is fuck him and taste him and make him feel good. You begin moving your head back and forth to allow your tongue to glide in and out of him. Your palms are holding him open for you, your thighs are rubbing together in search of sweet friction. With the strap-on you are wearing, you feel quite a lot of friction between your legs. Taehyung wasn’t lying when he told you that you would feel it too. You are so fucking desperate because of it.

“Finger me”, Taehyung begs in a breathy moan, “please finger me.”

“Hm?”

“Finger me, please Empress.”

You slip out of him, watching how his pretty hole clenches in desperation. It glistens from your drool, looking much more open and relaxed now that you tongue fucked it so well.

“You want me to finger you?”

“Yes”, Taehyung begs desperately, “yes please just finger me, please.”

“I can’t get enough of you, fuck”, you get out and gasp for air. He makes you dizzy. You feel so charged in desperation.

You reach for the bottle of lube and prepare your finger. Taehyung waits patiently, running his fingers over the fabric of the chaise lounge mindlessly. It tickles his fingertips and feels soft, but not as soft as your touch which lingers on his hole just seconds later. He straightens up and moans, arching into you.

“Ready?” you ask him, massaging his rim slowly.

“Yes”, he sighs, pushing his hips back.

“You are such a good boy”, you praise as you push your finger into him.

He moans loudly, you feel tense in desperation. He is so tight and warm around you, his walls are hugging your finger gratefully. You move your finger as the urge to explore him weighs too heavy in your heart.

“Another one”, he begs the instant you begin moving.

“Really?” you gasp.

“Yes, I barely feel anything.”

“That’s hot”, you croak, “oh my god Tae, you are so hot”, you rasp and push your ring finger into him. It sinks in quickly, filling him out and eliciting a grateful moan from him. He pushes back into you, moving his tight hole on your digits.

“Yes”, he breathes, “yes, oh yes, oh yes.”

His pretty hole moves around your digits, looking so beautiful now that you stretch him so well.

“This makes me so wet”, you confess in a breathy voice, “I can’t believe you’re real.”

The true and utter honesty in your voice makes Taehyung tremble. He knows that all the praise you give him is honest and real, but this right now sounds almost unnaturally honest. You are so mesmerised by him. He can hear just how honest you are in your desperation. And Taehyung can’t handle it.

“This doesn’t work”, he sobs softly, “please do it differently.”

“Yeah? How do you want it?”

“I want to sit on your lap, please.”

“Okay, let’s do that”, you say, slipping out of him. You waste no time with watching his hole close, instead you let yourself fall down on the chaise lounge next to him, parting your legs enough to make your lap comfortable for him. Your strap hits your stomach from the movement, sending a jolt of excitement through you. You feel so sexy like this. Taehyung wastes no time being desperate for your fingers, instead he climbs atop your lap with wobbly knees, cups your face and kisses you deeply.

“Mhhm Tae”, you mumble into him, kissing him back with a dizzy head.

His taste lingers on your lips. Taehyung sucks and licks it off of you with needy hunger. His tongue traces your lips and hugs your own, forcing you to moan and sigh. He cups your breasts and massages the spots you love having touched. His fingertips carry magic in them, sending shivers down your spine. Oh how terribly greedy for a feel of you he is. You chase him desperately, needing nothing more than his touch.

His cock is rubbing against your strap. You can feel them press against your stomach that way. The sensation feels so good. You pull him closer because of it, but can’t as Taehyung breaks the kiss to moan sweetly.

Your eyes meet in a deep and intimate gaze. It turns you on to look at each other.

“I want you”, you whisper, parting your lips as you chase his kiss.

“I want you too”, he whispers and reaches between your bodies, wrapping his fingers around your cocks. He begins jerking them off, whimpering needily because like this, his sensitive spots are grinding right against the head of the translucent dildo.

You chase him with a roll of your hips, twisting his hair at the back of his head.

“That’s so hot”, you rasp.

“Imagine how this will feel once you learned the spell”, he whispers and mewls softly. Frotting with you gets him off so good.

“Tae, I’m so wet”, you confess and whine quietly.

“Finger me again, please”, he begs, arching his back.

“I’m so fucking wet”, you croak and drop your right hand from his hair to part his buttocks for you. He has enough lube on his rim to enable you a comfortable breach and so you push two of your fingers into him to their last knuckles, curling them against his favourite spot.

“Like this?” you ask him, hungry eyes glued to his pretty face. He feels tighter in this position, hugging your digits greedily.

Taehyung scrunches his nose up, “hngn”, he lets out and exhales loudly, chasing the sensation with a roll of his hips.

“Yes, just like this”, you whisper deeply, “just like this.”

“N-no”, he presses out.

“No?”

He reaches behind himself and touches your pointer finger. Then he looks into your eyes, pouting pleadingly.

“Please”, he whispers.

“Fuck. Tae”, you get out and with his help, push a third finger into his greedy hole.

Taehyung closes his eyes by letting them roll back. His jaw goes slack, his throat produces an honest and deep moan. The view leaves you with the wettest stain of desperation under you.

“Thank you”, he gets out and parts his lips again to moan honestly and loudly. He feels so stuffed. Three of your fingers are currently preparing his hole, massaging his prostate with such expertise, Taehyung wonders if he will ever become normal again.

“You’re such a good boy, Tae. You’re taking me so well”, you praise, watching in delight as Taehyung squirms shyly, hole clenching around your fingers excitedly. He makes you smile. “You are so cute”, you say in a soft voice. It is heavy in arousal.

Taehyung giggles and moans, chasing you with a roll of his hips. Just once and then he shivers, hand dropping from his cock and reaching behind to hold your wrist.

“Wait. Stop. Please”, he begs.

You obey, keeping your fingers still inside him as your brows furrow in worry.

Taehyung takes a deep breath and groans quietly, “oh god”, he gets out, shuddering desperately.

“Are you okay? Were three too much?”

“No. So close.”

Your eyes light up. So he isn’t in pain.

“Yes? Does praise get you too needy?” you tease to which Taehyung giggles and blushes.

“I’m sorry, please don’t be mad. I know it feels as if I'm rushing. This is so exciting to me.”

“Hush, don’t apologise. You’re taking the perfect amount of time”, you assure him, curling your fingers to make him feel good.

He twitches and gasps, squeezing your wrist.

“Please”, he squeaks.

“Mhm what do you want?”

“I want to be fucked, please”, he begs with cute eyes.

“Yes? Do you really want to do that?” you ask him.

“Yes. You?”

“Yes, I’m just a little nervous. I don’t know how to move properly.”

“That’s okay, I’ll show you.”

You smile, “you are such a good boy, Tae”, you say, curling your fingers.

“Ah”, he widens his eyes, squeezes your wrist, “don’t please.”

You chuckle softly, “I’m sorry, you are just so adorable when you squirm.”

“Oh god, please”, he pouts, “please more, please.”

“Get my cock ready, sweetest”, you order, slipping your fingers free. You can’t wait. You are so goddamn excited.

Taehyung obeys instantly. He covers the dildo in a good layer of lube, using the remnants on his fingers to cover his hole.

He sighs, “I need you so much”, he says and positions himself over your length. He grips it by its base, moving it over his ready hole. “I’ll move for us, don’t worry.”

“I know. You’re such a good boy.”

You can’t stop looking away even if you see barely anything in the position except his terribly swollen cock and tensing tummy. You let your eyes flit behind Taehyung. There you go. Now you can see everything. Right there in the reflection of his big ceiling high mirror.

His feet are tangling over the edge of the chaise lounge, his toes are wiggling. His back is arched as he presents his well-sculpted ass.

Taehyung lowers himself.

“A-ah”, he lets out in sync with his cock throbbing against your tummy.

“Fuck”, you groan, eyes widening in greedy hunger. Just one second your cockhead was visible and now it’s gone. Hidden in Taehyung’s ass. “Did you just take it?”

“Yes”, he whimpers, lowering himself even more, “oh god, darling”, he gets out, cock twitching continuously as he sinks down on you.

“Okay this is really hot”, you whisper, gasping with him when he bottoms out. Thighs against ass and strap right inside. The view stirs hot pleasure inside you.

Taehyung begins moving instantly, holding onto your shoulders while he rocks up and down on your length. Like this, you can watch it appear and disappear repeatedly, looking wetter each and every time.

“This is so fucking hot, oh my god.”

“Touch my hips please”, he begs and you obey instantly, “can you feel them move?”

His muscles are tensing and shifting with his movements, his skin feels so hot. You squeeze them, gulping heavily. Look at him move, feel him tense, listen to him sigh. This is so goddamn hot.

“I can. That’s really…wow”, you whisper, eyes meeting his gaze.

It is droopy. Your heart flutters because of it. He moans shakily, moving sensually atop your lap as if he was made for it. And he was. He really fucking was, taking your strap like the best boy he was.

“Does it feel nice, my darling?” you ask him, caressing his hips.

“Yes, it feels so nice”, he sighs, cupping your face gently, “how does it feel for you?”

“Really good. You’re right, it’s rubbing against my clit.”

“See? I was right”, he lulls and flutters his eyes closed. He lifts his hips and drops them on your lap, ass jiggling because of it. You watch it happen hungrily, heart racing like crazy.

Taehyung moans sweetly, repeating the movement as his fingers slip back to grip your shoulders tightly. “Holy fuck”, he gets out between throaty gasps.

You can’t believe this is happening. You are fucking Taehyung. And he looks so goddamn good taking it. You run your hands to his ass, grabbing a handful of him to knead it. You part him, moaning loudly as this exposes his stuffed hole. In and out, in and out, in and out. He is taking you so well, looking so good doing it.

“Don’t stop”, he begs, pressing himself closer while his hips draw circles on your length. You are moving his sensitive rim right around your cock with your groping and he loves that sensation like nothing else. He curls his toes, chasing the friction with needy hips. He loves that so much. Loves it so much.

“This is so hot”, you whisper, “holy fuck.”

You knew that Taehyung wasn’t as dominant as you thought him to be when you first met him, but this is too much. He is so terribly attractive like this. Taking your strap with his face contorted in raw pleasure and his rockhard cock rubbing against your tummy. All while the whiniest little sounds leave his lips. You are seriously the luckiest woman on earth.

“You’re so wet, sweet Tae”, you rasp. You dance your right hand to his cock, holding his buttock with your other to really feel all the flexing he is doing.

“Empress”, he mewls quietly, furrowing his brows in desperation. You wrap your hand around his cock, grinding your thumb into his frenulum. “Oh god”, Taehyung croaks, falling around your neck.

His head falls against your shoulder, his back arches so he can still reach your strap. He loses some of the depth that way, but he doesn’t care because you are pressing against his prostate while your fingers are toying with his leaking cock and that’s better than anything else.

“You’re leaking so much. Wow Tae, I’m making you so fucking wet, aren’t I?” you rasp, basking in the deep shiver you send through him because of your words.

“Empress, I’m a wet boy”, he whimpers, gripping the edge of the backrest.

“Yes you are, such a wet boy”, you coo, tightening your arm around his waist and letting your fingers slip between his ass. You have to feel it. You press your fingertips against his hole so you can feel how the strap moves inside him. “that’s how that feels. Damn, that feels good”, you croak.

“My ass is made for you, Empress”, Taehyung moans, arching his back even more just to present himself to your fingers and your greedy eyes. He loves it so much when you feel him up. He wants to be such a good boy for you, tingling like crazy because your touch feels like heaven.

“Yes you are, you’re made for me”, you whisper, trying to meet his movements. It can’t hurt to try, right?

“O-oh”, Taehyung collapses into you, losing any sort of ability to move, “oh god, ___.”

“Was that right?” you ask him, trying again even if it is difficult with his weight on you.

Taehyung shudders, squeezing the backrest. His moan is muffled by your shoulder, his cock leaks on your fingers.

You try again, “okay but this is really hard to move. How are you always doing that?”

“Shall we change positions?”

“Maybe. I can’t really move.”

“Okay. Stand up, I have an idea.”

Taehyung lies down on the chaise lounge. Head facing the foot end and toes facing the top end. He opens his legs, reaching between them to part himself for you.

“Please back”, he begs.

“You’re so pretty wow”, you whisper, eyes glued to his exposed hole. It looks so empty and wet. You want to fill it up again, show him how good you can make him feel.

You spread a new layer of lube on your strap and get right between his legs, touching his inner left thigh. You hold your cock with your right hand, jerking it off slowly. It feels so warm because of him.

“Are you ready? I can’t guarantee that I’ll be good”, you ask him, grinding your tip on his greedy hole.

“Please fuck me”, he begs.

You push inside, eliciting a throaty mewl from him. Slipped in so easily. You pressed your fingers against his hole as you did just so you can really feel how it is to breach someone. Quite frankly, it felt heavenly. You push more, watching in delight as Taehyung scrunches his face in bliss because of it.

“I’m in. I’ll move now, yeah?”

He nods his head, arching his back in preparation. You grab his hips and move. Taehyung moans loudly, gripping his own thighs. This was amazing to witness. You want to repeat it just so you can hear him moan again.

“___”, Taehyung moans, gasping for air afterwards.

“Okay, this is amazing what the hell”, you rasp, chasing him in a deep thrust, “this is fucking amazing, holy fuck.”

Your knees are just a little farther than Taehyung’s hips width apart, your thighs are pressing into his softness. Your hands are on his hips, your lower tummy works hard to make the movement possible. And your sweet Taehyung is moaning your name as if it was his only prayer. You thought it impossible to feel so fucking powerful, but here you are. This is the best surge of power you’ve ever felt. You want to keep chasing it. Chasing it until you run on nothing but Taehyung’s sweet moans.

Taehyung throws his legs over your thighs, deepening your connection that way. It’s easier to move like this, sending a surge of confidence through your veins.

“This is so fucking good”, you pant, gripping his thighs just to nudge his legs apart more. You thrust into him, watching it happening. He is moving right around your strap, looking oh so stuffed and stretched. That’s how it looks to fuck. To be the one controlling just how deep someone gets stuffed. No wonder they don’t want to stop once they start. This is the sexiest view ever. You hold his thighs, making sure that he doesn’t hide it from you.

“Don’t stop please”, Taehyung begs, writhing on the cushions sensually, "please ___ please."

“I won’t, this is so much fun” you rasp, “am I moving how you like it?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

“This is so hot”, you moan, feeling oh so good. And not because the strap is grinding right against your clit, but because Taehyung is moaning oh so much. You feel so lightheaded in power. He is made for your strap and you don’t want to stop giving it to him.

You want to give it to him. You were such a bitch to him lately. He deserves to be showered in attention and spill over in pleasure. It’s the least you can do to mend the cracks. Even if he says that there is nothing to forgive, you know better. If not for him, this is for you. To ease your cracked heart because there is nothing better in this world than seeing Taehyung glow in happy bliss.

You wrap your fingers around his cock, forcing him to squeak and reach for your hand instantly. He squeezes hard, glassy eyes looking at you pleadingly.

“Too much?” you ask him, moving your hand around his leaking tip and with it forcing him to pull his legs into his chest. Just once and then he drops them again with a giggled moan.

You twist your hand around his tip, chase the tightness of his hole with a deep thrust. Taehyung squeals, trying to close his legs but you force them apart again, punishing him with quick movements up and down his length. He is growing in your hand, letting you know that despite his whines he is in actual heaven. Not long and you’ll probably struggle with closing your fingers around his base.

“Am I fucking you too good, mhm? Can’t handle it?”

“No”, he squeaks, squeezing your hand.

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop”, you taunt, trying to pull away only to get stopped by Taehyung.

“Please”, he begs, “please, please”, he pleads, moving your hand around his cock.

“You are so adorable”, you rasp, taking over for him. You take his thigh and pull him onto your length, twisting your hand around his cockhead as you do.

Taehyung arches his back, hips chasing you in desperate wiggles. His fingers fall from your hand to grab the edge of the backrest instead. He squeezes hard, feeling dizzy.

“Please Empress”, his voice is so high in pleasure.

“It’s okay darling Tae, I’ve got you”, you soothe him, giving him your length in deep rolls of your hips. You have to admit, it is easier to fuck than you thought it is. Maybe it is because you love fucking Taehyung or maybe it’s because you’re a natural, but that shit is so much fun. “Your Empress got you”, you rasp, “I’ve got you so good.”

Taehyung moans and spills tears. You are moving his body, forcing his head to tangle over the edge just enough that his head is starting to pound. And he loves it. Loves all of it. The last ten weeks were torture for him. To watch you lose yourself and to be unable to stop it, broke him over and over again. And left him so upset that desire and sensuality became cruel enemies he didn’t even want to think about. So to have you finally be yourself again leaves Taehyung so goddamn sensitive. He can’t decide what exactly leaves him so sensitive. Happiness, relief, comfort, desperation. Maybe all of it. All he knows is that it feels so good to be touched now that everything was okay again. He missed it so much. Missed it so, so much.

Taehyung arches his back and meets your movements in sloppy rolls of his hips.

“There we go, that’s it. Take my strap, you’re such a good boy”, you praise him, matching his rhythm and with it, turning Taehyung into a mess. He opens his legs further, gripping the edge of the chaise lounge, rolls his head to the side. He is a mess. An honest mess.

“Please don’t stop”, he sobs, “please I’m begging you.”

“It’s okay, I’m not going to stop”, you soothe him, massaging his heated tip deeply.

“Oh my god, it feels so good”, he moans loudly, trembling in pleasure. “oh god, oh my god.”

He loves being a vampire. He is so goddamn into how it makes him feel. How sensitive every inch of his body gets, how easy it is to partake in the best fucking thing because stuff like having to clean out isn’t necessary anymore and how goddamn easy it is to make him dizzy. Taehyung loves his nature so very much when you’re the one touching him, moaning your name with tears rolling down his glowing cheeks.

“My darling”, you speak softly, engulfing his cheek in your tender palm, “look at you crying. Is it that good for you?”

Taehyung whimpers, leaning into your touch until his soft cheek was nuzzled into your palm. He feels so safe right now. He is so vulnerable and weak right now, but you make him feel so safe.

“Good”, he whimpers and sobs softly, reaching up to place his hand over yours.

“You are so freaking pretty”, you whisper breathily, “oh Tae”, you add, trying to kiss him but failing miserably as this only forces his head to tangle even more over the edge.

It makes the both of you chuckle, eyes gazing into the others’ deeply.

“I’ll pull you up, work with me”, you say.

“Yes, okay”, he sighs, squirming sensually when you grab his hips and pull him closer.

“There we go. Now you’re comfy again, yeah?”

“Yes, so safe”, he whispers. Finally, his head stops tangling and you are able to place yourself atop of him.

Your elbows are propped up on each side of his head, your hips roll into him slowly but oh so deeply. Your chests are melted together. Taehyung can feel your racing heart that way, spilling tears because it feels so good to him. You begin moving again, slow and deep. Taehyung gasps, grabbing your back with trembling fingers. His legs close behind your thighs, trembling weakly.

“There we go, hold onto me”, you encourage him, playing with his hair. It is just a little damp from the heat you share, curling right around your fingers and tickling your skin, “is that good, my darling?”

“Yes, yes it’s so good”, Taehyung croaks and squeaks, “I- ah.”

“Such a good boy”, you praise, “touch yourself for me, my darling.”

Taehyung reaches between your bodies with one hand to wrap his fingers around his big cock. He gasps and looks into your eyes. The smile you give him makes him droopy, you running your fingers through his hair makes him dizzy.

“You’re so big, aren’t you?”

He whines a shy “yes”, feeling up his length. He didn’t even witness when he grew into his real size. You feel so good that all he concentrated on was your moving hips and gentle touch. He should be embarrassed about having such little control, but he is proud. You make him feel so good that he loses control and Taehyung is proud to show that off.

“Yes, you are. You are such a good boy, always so big and pretty for me. Mhm?”

Taehyung keens your name and squeezes his eyes shut. He scratches his nails down your back, leaving behind a streak of burning pleasure on your skin. You growl softly in reaction, dropping your forehead against his’.

“You’re such a good boy”, you rasp, voice shaky in lust, “holy fuck, this is the best fucking shit.”

You aren’t aware of it yet, but Taehyung is currently losing control. Having you atop of him, warm skin against warm skin and with your weight putting reassuring pressure on his chest, is too much for him. All of it is too much. Your slow movements, your fingers in his hair, your forehead against his’, the tensing of your back muscles under his fingertips, your praises. Taehyung has never felt that overtaken by the sensations before. He wants to cry and sob and pull you closer. And he does. He pulls you closer, sobbing your name into your shoulder as the new closeness forces you to cage in his head between your arm and head. Your hips falter and lose their rhythm. Taehyung makes up for it instantly, chasing you with needy rolls of his hips and his arms cradling you against his chest.

You chuckle and moan, moving your head so your nose was buried in his hair. You can’t move a lot, but you don’t mind. Being hugged by Taehyung as he chases the pleasure you give him is the best feeling ever. Taehyung’s needy squirming also manages to move the strap enough that your clit gets stimulated in the same needy rhythm and goddamn this feels heaven.

“Feels so fucking good”, you groan, “Tae, holy fuck, this is so good.”

Taehyung answers you in little whimpers and desperate mewls, hugging you closer. He uses just enough of his true strength on you that you know for a fact that he is losing himself in the sensations. Good, honest sex does that him. You realised that much. He may be a master of control on most nights and he may be hiding his nature from you most of the times, but there are those rare, intense moments where his reality shines through and you bask in them like an addict. You close your arm around his head and nuzzle into his hair deeper. It smells like warmth and his lavender shampoo.

“My good boy. My pretty, pretty good boy”, you rasp, making him shake.

“You’re making me climax”, Taehyung whimpers, “I can’t, can’t hold it much longer.”

“You can’t?”

“N-no. Feels so good.”

“It does. It fucking does. My good boy”, you pant, twisting his hair gently.

“Now please”, he begs, spilling desperate tears.

“Be a good boy for me. There we go. Such a good boy, you’re such a good boy”, you rasp.

Taehyung sobs your name and throws his head back as best as possible, chasing his high with deep rolls of his hips. “ah, a-ah”, he keens, scratching down your back in a desperate attempt not to lose himself completely.

“Good boy, my pretty good boy. Yes Tae, yes cum for me”, you praise him, feeling him shake and tremble. You try to help him, moving your hips as best as the position allows you to. His cock throbs against you, covering your tummies in his high. He is so tight around your strap, making moving almost impossible. But you keep moving, giving him a toe curling high. The kind which will stay in his mind for years to come.

Three deep strokes and then Taehyung begins fleeing you, despite his vigorous shaking before. He drops his arms from you, gripping the chaise lounge instead. Then he arches his back, squirming desperately.

“Stop, please too much”, he begs, “please too much.”

You chase him, forcing a throaty laugh out of him, “please, darling”, he begs, wiggling up the cushion until his head tangles over the edge again, “please slow, please.”

“Sorry”, you slow down, “I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

Taehyung laughs, raven hair messy and damp from the deep fuck.

“You are so cruel”, he whines, “I’m too sensitive.”

“Yeah?” you try chasing him again. One careful thrust and Taehyung squeezes his thighs together, whining your name. You chuckle, “sorry, I’ll stop. God, you are cute.”

You pull out of him, watching his hole push out the lube. It looks so wet and soft. You reach out and touch it, eliciting a gasp from him.

“Darling please”, he begs, holding your wrist, “I’m too sensitive.”

You snicker, “I can feel that”, you tease, massaging his sensitive rim.

“Please, mercy”, he begs, giggling loudly and with sparkly eyes.

“I just”, you clear your terribly dry throat, “you are so sexy, Tae”, you whisper, tracing his rim. You made it feel like that. You did that to him.

“___”, Taehyung says and laughs, running his own hands to his thighs. He grabs them right next to his cock, squeezing them tightly all while he opens his legs further, “why do you want to torture me?”

“Sorry”, you whisper, pulling back. You just did that. You fucked Taehyung’s ass. You actually made him cum around your strap. The realisation is leaving you dizzy. “I think I’m too horny for my own good.”

Taehyung lifts his head, “did you climax as well?” he asks you.

You shake your head, making Taehyung gasp.

“Why didn’t you say so? Shall I take care of it?”

“I mean….”, you say, rubbing your legs together.

Taehyung sits up with a groan, blinking slowly to get rid of the dizziness in his head.

“Don’t you want to rest a little?” you ask him, touching his chest in case he needs the support.

He shakes his head, “I can’t rest before I know that you are satisfied as well. Please get on your knees.”

You follow, lifting yourself onto your knees so you were kneeling in front of him on the chaise lounge. Taehyung shimmies closer and reaches behind you to open the clasp in the back. He gazes up at you as he does, eyes glassy from his intense high. The harness leaves your body and gets discarded on the floor for now.

Taehyung looks at your core, hands running up and down your buttocks gently.

“You are so beautiful”, he whispers, dropping down onto the chaise lounge and pulling you right with him. Right atop his face.

“Oh! Oh?!” you startle, trying to flee at first until you realise what he was doing. You let him pull you close, hand gripping the edge of the backrest for support.

Taehyung welcomes you with a stuck out tongue, moaning deeply the second your wet pussy connects with him.

“Tae fuck”, you press out in a whisper, letting your head tangle to the front as your every strength leaves you.

You are not going to last long. That much is sure. Fucking Taehyung with such honest and deep intensity brought you to the brink. Only a few more strokes and you probably would have followed him into sweet demise. So to have him run his skilled tongue over your pussy is almost too much. You are close and you are loving it.

“Oh god, it’s so good”, you choke out, twisting a bundle of his hair, “Taehyung….”

Taehyung growls deeply, eyes gazing up at you. You are covering his entire lower face and he loves it, slurping up your taste with hungry desperation. His big hands are on your hips, massaging you deeply. He sucks your clit between his lips.

“Ah”, you let out, mouth falling open and chest lifting as you inhale only to hold your breath. The sensation is too good. You curl your toes, digging your nails into the fabric of the backrest.

Taehyung purrs and sucks again, watching in bliss as you sink into yourself. You grow heavier on his face and Taehyung fucking loves it. He supports you with no struggle, flicking his tongue over your clit quickly with the help of his powers. Quick and fast and oh so sloppy.

You shake, moaning his name loudly. Good. Taehyung wants you to shake. You deserve to shake after how you made him feel. He wants you to feel as ethereal as you made him feel. Maybe even better.

“Now”, you squeak, “Tae now.”

Taehyung doesn’t slow down, growling hungrily as his tongue keeps moving quickly.

You break a second later, convulsing in his strong hold and gasping his name. You wanted to say more, praise him and call him your good boy, but you can’t. Taehyung is making you feel completely and utterly dumb in your high and all you can do is shake and tremble.

This feels so fucking good. You forgot how good orgasms feel. How were you able to miss out on them for ten weeks? This is better than anything.

The shaking stops too soon for your taste. Way too soon. You feel fulfilled and yet desperate for more. You lift yourself. You have no idea why you did that, but you did. You dumb woman lift yourself off of Taehyung’s face, thinking that this was it.

Taehyung lets you know that it very much wasn’t. With the help of his powers he has you pinned against the chaise lounge within seconds, keeping a safe hold on you as he forces your legs open with the help of his strong thighs. He buries two of his long fingers in your pussy, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit.

“Ah!” you yelp, eyes widening comically big and lips opening repeatedly as you gasp for air. He pins you down with his weight, keeping you hostage with his burning gaze. His long fingers move right against your g-spot, his thumb makes sure your clit stays as sensitive as possible. The deepest fire spreads through your limbs. Every inch of your middle feels electric.

“Holy fuck”, you gasp, “holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fu- ah!”

Taehyung growls throatily, parting his lips in synch with yours. His lids grow heavy in arousal, barely showing off his ruby eyes. He doesn’t need to say anything. Sounds are enough to let you know that he is feeling just as charged as you do. Which is impossible, because you feel like fucking exploding. You are so sensitive. Stuffed by his fingers and tortured with the best overstimulation after weeks of not knowing how pleasure feels.

Tears leave your eyes and roll down your face, you try to both moan and gasp for air, resulting in the most honest sounds of pleasure you made in a long time.

Taehyung answers you in a deep growl, fingers speeding up to the kind of level which results in you kicking the cushions and arching your back.

“Ah!” you wail, “ah Tae!”

“Climax for me”, he rasps in the deepest voice, forcing you over the edge with a curl of his fingers.

It starts in the deepest parts of your pussy, spreading to your clit and taking the rest of your body by surprise.

“Tae! Oh god Tae! Ah!”

Taehyung keeps moving through your high, ruining you to the point of having to squirt all over his long fingers. He growls deeply as that happens, basking in the burn of your nails as you clasp his arms in panicked desperation. And he keeps moving. Keeps on fucking his fingers into you quickly and deeply, keeps on rubbing your clit, keeps on massaging your g-spot even if that makes the biggest mess between your legs. Because if there is one thing he is good at, it is fingering you so fucking good you feel as if he drilled you with his cock. You are so goddamn perfect when you climax like that. When you squirt until you physically can’t anymore, resulting in you flinching and twitching in his strong arms.

Taehyung pulls his fingers free, allowing the last droplets of your pleasure to drip out of you now that he isn’t plugging you up anymore. He rests his hand on your pussy gently, caressing her with slow movements up and down. The warmth that leaves behind makes you feel just as dizzy as your high does.

You aren’t really present for the next moments, trying to find your way back to him after he ruined you so abysmally. Taehyung kisses every inch of your face as he waits for you to return to him.

Once you do, he is gazing at you with the most beautiful smile ever. You retort it, cupping his face with shaking hands.

“You are incredible”, you whisper, “holy moly, Tae.”

He chuckles softly, flustering cutely.

“I literally feel dizzy.”

“Me too”, he says, letting you pull him closer until you kiss.

Sweetly and slowly. You are both too ruined to kiss any other way. And sadly also way out of breath as seconds later the kiss breaks again.

“You seriously ruined me. I don’t think I can be normal again.”

Taehyung giggles, “me neither. The way you moved your hips will haunt me.”

You chuckle, “so I did well for my first time?”

“You did incredible. You were amazing.”

It is your turn to fluster. Taehyung brushes his thumb over your cheek. Your skin glows so prettily after good sex, he is so fucking obsessed with the view.

“Shall we take a bath together to relax?” he suggests.

“I would love that, my darling”, you say, nodding your head enthusiastically.

“Me too, oh darling”, Taehyung smiles.

Moments later you are sharing a bath, sitting face to face and with your limbs entangled. Candlelight is filling the room, the scent of honey tickles your nose and slow jazz music keeps you company. You are caressing Taehyung’s back and he does the same to you, eyes racing between yours.

“I think we are different than we were when we met”, he whispers into the silence.

“I think so too. We’re different.”

“I don’t think we’ll ever have the same relationship again.”

You look at him in slight confusion.

“Too much happened. Too many moments of doubt and betrayal and hurt. I don’t think that we can ever go back to the way we were”, he explains himself.

“I don’t understand. Are you breaking up with me?”

“On the contrary. I just…want us to be better from now on. More honest. When was the last time we sat down and talked about us? Did we ever?”

You shake your head, “I don’t know if we ever did, actually”, you confess.

“I can’t remember either. I am so terrible at being honest with how I truly feel. When it comes to true honesty, I struggle a lot, so I tend to avoid deeply emotional conversations.”

“I think you’re pretty good at it. I suck at it more than you do.”

Taehyung chuckles, as do you.

“So tell me, Tae. Be honest.”

“I don’t know. When I look at you these days I see someone different. You are better, but still so different. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened had I fled that night.”

“What night are you talking about?”

“The night Namjoon forced me to hunt you down. Had I been one second faster, our lives could look so much different now. I wonder if we would still be together or if we would already be broken up. Would we have ever found Jimin? Would he have even died in the first place? Would you have ever fallen in love with Yoongi?”

You furrow your brows.

“I keep wondering if the universe would have still found a way to bring the two of you together”, he smiles, “I think he changed you the most out of all of us. I think if we hadn’t went through everything we did, I would have hurt you in the long run. But Yoongi helped you be better.”

You lower your eyes shyly.

“I really hated that you were with him”. Taehyung confesses, making you look at him in shock, “for the longest time I really hated that you were with him and I was angry at you for falling in love with him. But I see it now. You love him as I love Jimin and it doesn’t mean that you love me less, because I don’t love you less either despite Jimin.”

You smile.

“I don’t hate it anymore. I’m happy that you found each other. I really am.”

“I’m happy too. So happy. I seriously haven’t ever been as happy in my life as I am ever since I’m with you guys.”

Taehyung smiles.

“And I’m happy for you too. I didn’t like Jimin at first and I wanted him gone because of how he treated you. But I understand these days that he is traumatised and that he just needed a push into the right direction. Kindness isn’t easy for him because it hurt him in the past.”

Taehyung nods hid head.

“I like Jimin these days. He is a great friend and makes you happy. I want you to be happy, Tae.”

“I am. I am happy. I really am.”

“Good. I hope you always will be.”

“I wish the same for you.”

Your eyes race between each other. The air is heavy in emotion. Your hearts beat in sync. Deep understanding lies between you and him. Your relationship as it was has long ended, but this wasn’t the end.

Taehyung reaches for your face. Water leaves your skin wet, but you don’t mind.

“We can’t go back to how we were, can we?” he asks, intertwining his fingers with you.

“No, we can’t.”

“We have other people now. We don’t love solely each other, but we love more people. Back then we were so naive and stupidly attracted to each other, but we aren’t anymore.”

“That’s not true. I’m still stupidly attracted to you.”

“I feel the same. I just meant that our attraction is different these days. We went through shit together. We saw each other at our worst. Hurt each other. Apologised. Our attraction isn’t based solely on physicality anymore, it’s based on our shared story.”

You smile.

“I like that. It means that it’s real.”

Taehyung smiles.

“Yes. It means that it is real. And that it will withstand even the worst.”

“Only to come out stronger in the end.”

He squeezes your cheeks gently. You squeeze his waist right back.

“I want to be with you for life and I don’t know if I can go back to how we were. I want us to be deeper than we were back then. I want us to know that times will get hard, but we will always have each other. I want us to know that even if we spend some time apart and see other people, our love won’t grow less because of it.”

“I want the same, Tae. I want us to be deeper and more real.”

He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

“I truly love you, ___. Most ardently and with my entire heart.”

“I love you too, Taehyung. Greatly and deeply.”

“So let’s end this. Let’s end this to finally begin again.”

You smile, “yes, let’s end this to finally begin again.”

“It’s over.”

You draw closer, holding hands while your eyes lose themselves in each other.

“___, do you want to be my forever family?”

“Yes, Taehyung. I do. I fucking do.”

Taehyung laughs and places his hand on the nape of your neck. You laugh, closing your eyes as he pulls you into a kiss. Deep and full of love. You did it. You left the past and finally live in the present, holding each other close on your journey into a sweet future. Nothing can stop you now.

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