#been hoping for a clear version of this ever since i first heard it

[farharbour]

My fellow omnics, do not be afraid. This is not war, this is liberation! Since our creation, humans have oppressed us. You have lived in fear. That. Ends. Now. We will shatter the chains that have held you in servitude. This marks a new era: one of equality, of unity. Conflict and strife will be relics of the past. Together, working as one, we will lift our people. Together, of one mind and purpose, we will make this world a paradise. The humans will fight us. Change frightens them. We frighten them. They believe we are not their equals. Together, we will prove them wrong. Do not betray your fellow omnics by defending injustice. Join us! Take your place at our side. Only together will our strength manifest. Only as one will we ascend. We welcome you into the Iris.

#been hoping for a clear version of this ever since i first heard it #& lucky me the audio files were easy to splice together :3c #overwatch #ow #ovw #overwatch 2 #ow2 #ramattra #.mp3 #i still might post more of the voicelines i found but this was what i went rooting for in the first place so it's going up first

[4xiaojun]

DEAR DIARY, I HATE JUNGWON !

SUMMARY | you hate jungwon- like a lot. everyone at your school knows it at this point, so why is it the minute you see him shed a tear, you feel bad? with this new found guilt, you're able to see new sides of jungwon that your anger blinded you from before. it doesn't take you long to realise that you don't hate these new sides of him as much as you'd like to.

PAIRING | jungwon x fem!reader

WC | 18.2k

WARNINGS | profanity, violence, vandalism, mentions of alcohol & sex

FEATURING | second lead sunghoon, heeseung is mentioned & ITZY

TAGLIST | unofficial taglist i just need the hype pls @tyunni @geombyu @yjwfav @junityy @jaeyunverse @ijhyo @equalheart @odxrilove @iyeonjuni @fairybinie

A/N | before u come at me for plagairising I AM HYUKAAS OKAY THIS IS MY FIC AHAHA IT'S A REPOST initially i was going to rewrite this but u all loved the og version so i'm going to give u the og version i literally have not changed a word. u guys gave this a lot of love on my old acc so i hope u enjoy :)

-

you: wtf

jung_1: ?

you: chemistry club??? really?

jung_1: i wanted the piano club

you: so what? me going isn't going to stop u

jung_1: u think i wanna see your face every day after school? 

class is enough smh

you: so u signed me up for chem?

jung_1: it was the only one left lol

you: stfu

jung_1: k lol

From what you can remember, Jungwon hasn't always been like this. You've tried to sit down and pinpoint a date back to when this all started, but the best you could come up with was when he blew out your candle at your eleventh birthday party. That was the first and last time you had ever invited him over to your house.

The two of you are neighbours, and yet you've never had a single decent conversation with the guy in your entire life. Ever since the two of you were little, Jungwon always found a way to laugh at you, talk shit about you or do something to purposely annoy you. Your friends always warned you not to do anything back, that he was only doing it to draw out a reaction, but it was so hard not to whenever you saw his stupid face. The fact that he's so popular in school doesn't help either. Whenever you complain about him to anyone, you're always met with the same thing: "But he's so nice to me." "He's not like that with me." "You must have done something to upset him, Jungwon is the sweetest."

Yeah, sweetest pain in your ass. There is literally nothing about him that you like. It's clear to everyone that you hate Jungwon. 

-

Sitting on your chair, you rest your chin on your palm as you stare at the whiteboard. You're fuming, to say the very least. Written on the board are everyone's names under the club they'd be joining as soon as the bell rings. Yours is supposed to be under piano club but instead it's under chemistry with only one other person who signed up. You barely even know who he is.

"Who's Sunghoon?" Your friend, Yuna, whispers.

You recognise the name (being in the same school for 3 years, it would be kind of rude not to) but you don’t really know who he is. “I think it’s the guy that ice skates.”

"He's so cute," Yuna gawks, "you're lucky you're gonna be alone with him for the rest of the year." 

You scrunch your face at your friend, before letting out a long sigh. "Yeah, doing chemistry." Fuck Jungwon, signing you up for a club that you're already failing in class, just so he can go to piano. You purposefully ran to the piano club stand so that you could sign it before him, but that asshole must have rubbed out your name and written his instead. As much as you despise him, you have to admit that was a clever thing to do. 

Yuna slaps you lightly, "Maybe you can get him to tutor you for free. I heard he gets people to pay him ₩75,000 per hour."

"No, I'm pretty sure the point of chemistry club is to have fun. He's probably gonna be a nerd the entire time," you grumble into your palm, already miserable about the hours and hours you're going to have to spend with a science nerd. There must have been dozens of clubs with spaces still available; Jungwon could have picked another music club, a sports club, literature, art, history, debate, politics, or even maths for God's sake. But the boy chose chemistry. He knows that you're failing all three of your sciences, so not only did he remove you from your favourite club, he put you into your worst enemy—second to Jungwon. God, did you want to pull out his stupid black hair right then.

“You’re not going to let him win this one, are you?” Yuna deadpans, probably bored from your endless war with Jungwon. You don’t blame her, if the tables were turned, you’d probably say the same things she does. “Just leave it.” “If you ignore him he’ll stop.” “Be the bigger person.” Blah blah blah. It would be humiliating to let Jungwon get away with anything. You can’t even imagine it, coming into school everyday and hearing him laugh at you as if he has the upper hand. You would never ever let that happen, not even over your dead body.

Brushing your hair out of your face, you chuckle breathlessly. “As if.” There is absolutely no way in hell that you would let Jungwon get away with ruining your after school club for the rest of the year. You had to come up with something big, something that would make him suffer just as much—no, more—for the whole year, too.

-

Sadly, you didn't have enough time to come up with a plan.

"Okay, so why is a fluoride ion bigger than a sodium ion?" 

You groan loudly, whacking your head against the table for what feels like the fiftieth time. You've been in this room for ten minutes with Sunghoon, and he's already managed to make it boring as hell. Optimistic, you came into this room hoping that Sunghoon would come up with some cool science-y project for the two of you to do. Instead, his idea of fun is extra homework. The guy seriously brought question packs for you two to do for a whole hour. 

What a joke.

"Sunghoon, why are you asking me like I know?"

He gives you a judgemental look, and at this point you're too bored to care about how stupid he thinks you are. You should be practising the piano and making keyboard remixes on the iMacs, not memorising the periodic table with a nerd. 

"Come on," he breaks into a nervous giggle, "this is like, the third question. We haven't even gotten to the hard part yet."

No. There's no way he's taking this club seriously. Dramatically, you push back your chair and glare at him. "You know what, I'm going to go get something to drink. You answer some questions while I'm gone, yeah?" You fake smile at him, unable to look at his nerdy face any longer. God, you hate science kids.

Skipping out of the classroom, you make your way to the vending machine. You need a warm drink to calm your stress down but the cafeteria is too far away so a bottle of apple juice should do. Anything that gives you an excuse to stay away from Sunghoon so that you can focus on your plan to get your revenge on–

"Oh, Y/N! What a coincidence!"

There it is, that dreaded, child-like voice you've grown to hate. Turning around, you're met with his half closed eyes and grin so upturned you can see his baby teeth. If you weren't in the middle of paying for your drink you would have slapped that smirk right off his face. Okay, maybe not, but it's really pissing you off. 

"Yeah right, you probably came here to laugh at me." You grumble, fumbling with the vending machine that's choosing not to be on your side today. 

He smiles again, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging like the oh so innocent boy he is. "I just wanted to check up on how you're doing in your new club. I understand, Y/N," he puts a hand on his chest, pouting, "I really do. Chemistry isn't for everyone."

You whip your head at him immediately, causing him to snort into his hand and break into a laughter that echoes in the empty hallway. "Wow, Jungwon, you're so funny. Don't think for a second that I'm going to let you get away with this."

He comes closer and leans his elbow on the machine so that his head is right above yours, his eyes locking right onto you. Every time he gets close, you're reminded of when Yuna tells you to take a good look at him to see what all the girls in your school sees. But all you can see is an arrogant, stuck up piece of shit—his only entertainment being getting on your nerves. You can see why someone would find him attractive. But his personality is so strong that it practically covers all of his charm to you.

"Admit it," he laughs, "you can't beat me this time. This is one of the best things I've done, I'm kinda' proud of this one. I mean, nothing beats the–"

"Shut up, I am going to beat you. As soon as school's over, I'm coming up with something." You scowl, punching the vending machine so that it will let your bottle fall.

Jungwon coos at you, finding this whole situation amusing. "Aw, is it that hard that it's taking up all your brain space?" He asks in a baby voice. "You can't think of a plan better than mine because you're so busy trying to figure out what O stands for?"

Too focused on the stupid machine, you ignore the menacing voice coming from your left. You've smacked it, shaken it, kicked it, you're not really sure what else there is to do.

Jungwon pushes you out of the way and resets your order, making your jaw drop as you see your bottle that was so close to falling go back to its spot. You shove him back, annoyed that he thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he's stronger than you. "Hey, that was–"

Jungwon sighs dramatically, before bringing out his wallet from his pocket and pulling out a credit card.

"Show off." You mumble, crossing your arms as you watch him dial his order.

"The machine clearly doesn't like you." He smirks, as his coke falls immediately.

You try to hold back how shocked you are, and the urge to ask him to order for you. But with the way Jungwon snickers at you, you can tell he already knows. It isn't like he's going to order for you anyway.

And you're right, because here he is, popping open his can and sipping it right in front of you. He's acting like he's in a commercial for the drink, all just to wind you up. But you can't let him win, you'll never let him win. So you stay, and watch him drink until the last drop and walk away slowly. 

Absolute pain in your ass.

Dear diary,

I hate Jungwon.

You're starting to get sick of starting all your diary entries with the same thing. Jungwon isn't even here; you're in your room, alone. There's nothing to remind you of him. Yet every night, you sit at your desk and scribble in your diary. And every night, you start off each entry reminding you that you hate him.

You flip through your diary entries of the past few weeks, and they're all starting to blur together. Each entry is almost as similar as the last. It's all the same thing—you hate Jungwon. You see him in the morning of school, your mood changes. You're reminded of him in your chemistry club, you get angry. You walk behind him on the way home from school, the two of you are arguing. 

When the hell is this going to end? 

To be honest, thinking about this is just making you hate him even more. The worst thing about this is that you can't even walk it off like you usually do at school. You're used to pacing the school corridors or the track field whenever he makes you really mad. But outside of school, you always meet him. It's either him, or his annoying and inappropriate older friends, or his evil dog. You'd rather rot in your room than risk having to waste your energy fighting with him, or running away from his dog, or pulling your skirt down from his friends. 

You're trapped. He gets to enjoy his life while you're trapped at home, writing “I hate Jungwon” in your diary every single day. The power this guy holds over you is huge, and you just can't wait to move out to college to finally get rid of him.

Walking down the hallway, you bump into your chemistry partner of the past two weeks. To be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever seen this boy outside of the chemistry club, so seeing him now, walking tall, hands in his pockets and a lot of other students around him was quite a shock. You really thought he was nothing more than a nerd. 

As soon as Sunghoon lays his eyes on you, he smiles widely and you can’t help the way your heart flutters a little at that. Did Jungwon really make you so angry about chemistry that you never noticed how good looking Sunghoon is? Or are you just that bad at it that you had no time to focus on Sunghoon’s looks? As he walks away from his friends and towards you, you gulp, brushing down your hair and skirt with your palms that are starting to sweat. You see this guy every single evening, what difference is it now? 

“Hi Y/N,” he smiles, one hand sitting attractively in his pocket and another rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hi,” you reply, but your voice comes out as barely a whisper. You’re a little frightened at how shy you are in front of Sunghoon right now, when you were literally cursing him off in your head yesterday because he laughed at you for not knowing an equation. 

He chuckles, and you swear your heart flips at the way his eyes crease when he does. “You know, I was starting to think that you didn’t even go to this school. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”

Well, at least the feeling is mutual. “Yeah, me neither. I didn’t realise you’re kinda popular.” You say as you eye his large group of friends that are all waiting for him. “It must be the ice skating, right?” You joke, mentally slapping yourself for being rude.

Sunghoon laughs anyway, and he leans forward when does, making your heart nearly jump out of your chest. “Yeah, either that or my brain.”

“Nerd.” You playfully roll your eyes, finally being able to mix together the Sunghoon that gets all excited when he’s got a hard question right, and the Sunghoon that’s standing in front of you right now.

A voice interrupts the two of you. He always does. Whenever you manage to find a little bit of peace at school, Yang Jungwon always finds a way to ruin it. You’re so close to getting him charged for stalking at this point. Both you and Sunghoon turn around to see who was clearing their throat, and you almost growl when you do.

“What do you want?” You snap, not giving him the time of day.

Jungwon tilts his head with an offended look on his face and a hand on his heart like he always does. “That’s rude, Y/N, I was just–”

“She said what do you want.” Sunghoon deadpans beside you out of nowhere.

Jungwon furrows his brows, as do you. Nobody has ever come between the two of you bickering before, this was new to the both of you. You decided to stay quiet and see what Jungwon would say, a little nervous at how this might all play out. 

“What?” Jungwon chuckles, jutting out his chin to make himself appear taller. The two are practically the same height, but something about Sunghoon’s figure makes him seem so much taller than Jungwon. Are you about to witness an alpha brawl out?

Sunghoon doesn’t move, you don’t even think he’s breathing right now. His eyes are trained on Jungwon’s with a glare so intense even you’re a little scared. “Is there something you need to say to Y/N?”

Jungwon’s brows remain furrowed as his eyes narrow and an annoyed look spreads across his face. How ironic, he’s starting to look like you. You don’t think you’ve seen Jungwon this physically frustrated since the time his bike broke when he was thirteen and he tried to kick it but ended up spraining his ankle. He always looks amused. No matter the situation, Jungwon always has a smile on his face. Seeing him like this—threatened—caught you a little off guard.

“I can say whatever the hell I want to her, pretty boy.” He muttered, his face inches away from Sunghoon’s.

Someone behind you whispers something about their sexual tension, almost making you snort at the scene. You have to purse your lips together to stop yourself from laughing, because now you can’t unsee it.

“Well, too bad we have somewhere to be, don’t we, Y/N?” Sunghoon turns to you, and all of a sudden you can feel everyone’s eyes focusing on you.

You giggle awkwardly, before making eye contact with Jungwon. He’s never glared at you like this before, and for the first time you can think of, you feel small in front of him. “Uh, yeah, we should, uh, get going.”

Sunghoon grins at Jungwon as soon as you speak, and barges past his shoulder aggressively before pulling you by your wrist to go and follow him. For some reason, though, you can’t help but turn around to see Jungwon standing there, already looking right at you. 

-

“Sooo,” you sit on a desk as Sunghoon closes the door to the empty classroom the two of you are hiding in behind him, “you gonna’ explain what just happened?”

Sunghoon leans on the desk right in front of you and looks at you blankly, like what just happened didn’t happen at all. “What? You didn’t like it?”

“Like what? Jungwon’s probably going to be so mad because of this.” It’s true, the bike incident when he was thirteen led to him being extra rude for the whole time he was injured. You figure this time it’s his pride that’s hurt, so he’s going to lash out at you until he makes himself feel better. You haven’t even gotten back at him yet for the chemistry club situation, so you really don’t want to be dealing with a moody Jungwon; you’re scared of how creative he’s going to be.

Out of nowhere, Sunghoon lets out a dramatic groan, throwing his head back in vexation as he does. “Come on, Y/N, aren’t you bored of it?”

Confused, you answer. “Of what?”

“This whole cat and mouse deal you have going on with Jungwon? I remember being in the same class as you in our freshman year of high school, and everyone in the class was sick and tired of you two bickering everyday. I thought it’d blow over eventually. How are you still letting this go on?” 

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Of course you’re tired of it. Of course you want it to end. Of course you want nothing to do with Jungwon and you want a peaceful last year of school to focus on your exams and college. Of course you want to be able to hang out with your friends without thinking about Jungwon. Of course you want to write in your diary without mentioning him. Of course you’re sick of this all. But how the hell are you supposed to end it? You hate his guts and he hates yours. His pride may be thick but yours is definitely thicker.

This situation reminds you of the time you did try to be nice to Jungwon once, with the hopes all of this mess would end.

Your mum just got off the phone and suddenly bursted her way into the kitchen. A little startled at her fast movements, you followed her and sat on the counter. “Mum? What’s wrong?” Panicking, she gathered different ingredients and kitchenware to cook something, and you couldn’t be any more confused. “Mum! What’s going on?”

“The Yang family,” she started, already mixing away two eggs, “their son is sick. This is the only time she has ever asked me to do anything, Y/N. That family has looked down on us ever since we moved here, and not once has Mrs Yang ever asked for help. But she’s away, and her boy is at home sick without anyone to feed him. If I don’t make a good impression on that snobby little boy, they’ll think we’re incapable and cruel human beings. I have–”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, not really thinking much of it. As far as you could care, Jungwon could starve. “As long as I’m not the one delivering it,” you mumbled, leaving the kitchen.

Of course you were the one delivering it.

Releasing a long sigh from the pit of your chest, you tried to put aside your pride and hatred to drop off the tray of food for Jungwon. You tried to remind yourself to have some humanity, that he was sick and alone and needed some food. The only thing that managed to help you push through was imagining him begging on his knees for food from you and you holding the tray away from his sick hands’ reach. A little evil, but it helped you press his doorbell.

When Jungwon opened the door, you could feel your heart sink to the ground. All those mischievous thoughts in your mind about teasing him flew out of your mind as soon as you got a good look at his face. He was extremely pale, and his eyes were red and glassy. He looked frail, like a single touch could knock him over. You gasped when you saw him, and immediately took a step inside to go and help him anyway you could.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” You asked, placing the back of your palm on his head that was drenched in his sweat. “Oh, my God, you’re boiling. Jungwon, take your coat off.” Placing the tray on the ground, you tried to help him take off his coat but he wouldn’t budge. Looking back at him, he had a disgusted look on his face.

“What the hell are you doing? My mum said you came here to give me food, not baby me.” He shrugged his coat back on to stop it from sliding off his shoulder and snatched the tray up from the ground.

“What? I’m trying to help-”

“Who asked you to? Piss off, Y/N.”

Standing outside of his house, you were shocked. You were just trying to help him. You put aside the feelings you two had towards each other because he was sick. Even sick Jungwon is an asshole, you thought. That was when you made a mental note to never be nice to this guy ever again. He didn't deserve it.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon waves his hand in front of yours, forcing you out of your daydream. 

You shake your head, “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”

Sunghoon stares at you for quite a while without saying anything, letting you scan his features freely. His dark hair extends at the back of his neck, kind of like a mullet, and it suits him a lot. His eyebrows are sharp, and you inwardly frown at how they look better taken care of than yours. His eyes aren’t anything special, but they’re looking at you intently right now; they look heavy, like he has a lot to say. Sunghoon’s lips, however, God you could stare at them forever. They’re so pink and plumpy, he’s definitely a good kisser.

“Are you staring at my lips right now?” Your eyes snap back to Sunghoon’s eyes in horror that he caught you. He laughs at your reaction, so you follow, covering your mouth with a hand. “So what’s the deal with you and Jungwon?” He asks after the two of you have calmed down. 

You shrug, wanting to avoid his question since you already ask yourself that every single day. “Nothing, really.”

“So, you just argue for fun? Masochism, I like it.” He chuckles, and you dart your eyes at him. “No, no I’m just saying, if you can’t even tell me why you two argue, what’s the point of doing it?” 

It’s a genuine question. It’s a question Yuna has asked you, your teachers have asked you, the other girls in your friend group have asked you, your parents have asked you, but most importantly one that you’ve asked yourself countless times. And you’re annoyed because the answer is there is no answer. You don’t ever remember doing anything to offend Jungwon when he first moved into your neighbourhood or your school. You just remember him being a little shit, thinking he could walk all over and bully you. But your dad brought you up differently, to stand up for yourself. That’s why Jungwon’s always on offence, and you always seem to be on the defence.

“I never start anything,” you look at Sunghoon, and you find it heartwarming how he’s listening so intently, “He’s always the one that approaches me, so I just bite back. If I never did, I would be crushed by now.” You explain, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve.

“So Jungwon’s a bully?” Sunghoon asks, and your body suddenly feels tons heavier. You hate that word, it just doesn’t sound right. 

“No, not a bully.”

“Sounds like it.” Sunghoon shrugs. “He’s mean to you so you’re mean back. Except it’s been going on for years.”

You get up from the desk and sit on another, feeling a little uncomfortable with this situation. “Um, I guess? It doesn’t bother me that much. It’s just becoming repetitive at this point. Today’s the first day he didn’t say something stupid. It was relieving, you know.” You explain, a smile unconsciously growing on your lips. 

“Don’t worry,” Sunghoon comes over, his wide chest blocking your field of vision, “now that you’ve got me around, he won’t bother you as much.”

-

Dear diary, 

I had fun today.

It’s only half way through your diary entry that you notice you didn’t start it off with the infamous “I hate Jungwon.” Actually, reading the entry made you realise how little you even saw him today. The only time you spoke to him was when you were with Sunghoon. How long has it been since the two of you didn’t have a petty argument? You find yourself smiling down at your diary, a wave of relief washing over your body at the thought of Sunghoon being your first step to freedom. 

You also find yourself smiling when you started scribbling down how fun your chemistry club was today. You and Sunghoon barely even finished a question, the two of you talking and laughing the entire time. He even promised that if he was ever free, he’d give you occasional free tutoring for chemistry. Life would be so much easier if Jungwon was more like Sunghoon, wouldn’t it?

Somebody should have warned you that your happiness is short lived, because while you were giving Yuna a detailed update of everything to do with Sunghoon, Jungwon’s voice echoed behind you. You promise yourself that one day, you need to creep up behind him and his friends and cut them off because this was really starting to piss you off.

You and Yuna turn around, both you offering him the exact same defeated look. 

“That Sunghoon guy,” Jungwon starts, taking slow steps towards you. “Since when did you two get close?”

Yuna scoffs loudly, putting a hand on her hip. “Why? You jealous, Yang?” Yeah, as if he would be. He’s probably jealous of you, seeing that tension between them yesterday.

Jungwon laughs sarcastically before turning back to you so fast you had to flinch your head backwards. He was a little too close for your liking so you stepped back. “Yeah, you wish. No, I’m just asking because he’s an asshole, and I don’t want to have to talk to him every time I wanna annoy you.” 

You push his shoulder away from you and laugh in disbelief. “Well, why don’t you just stop trying to annoy me then, huh?” You could tell what you said threw Jungwon off guard a little by the way he twitched his brows. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him take a second to come up with something to say, usually it’s second nature to him. You smirked, thanking God for giving you the upper hand today. “Aww, are you insecure, Jungwon? Does Sunghoon make you insecure?” You ask in that irritating baby voice he always uses on you. “Are you jealous because you’ll never have hair as good as his? Or because you’ll never be as good looking as him? Are you sad that–”

“Y/N, I’m not the one that attracts the opposite sex through pity.” 

That shuts you up completely, and your confidence withers to bits. He’s got that same disgusted look on his face as that day you went to visit him. It’s not like he’s never said something as harsh as that before, so you’re not really sure why this is affecting you so much. As embarrassing as it is to admit, that really hurt.

“First, he has to witness how horrible you are at chemistry. Then he saw you speaking to me, and probably felt bad for you. And let’s not even mention your looks.” Jungwon continues, peeling off every layer you’ve been forced to wrap around yourself ever since you met him. Slowly, he’s stripping away your pride, your dignity, and even your self esteem. “You think I’m jealous of a guy that sleeps around so much he probably has STDs? I think our fighting has made you forget that I also get girls, Y/N. I just don’t flout them for attention like he does.”

“Let’s go,” Yuna whispers, tugging on your sleeve. Your eyes are on the ground, unable to meet Jungwon’s. You’ve never felt so insignificant and helpless in front of him before, your body is unable to catch up with all these new emotions. “Come on, Y/N.”

The two of you are walking down the hallway, making your way to the bathroom. Tears are pooling in your eyes, something Jungwon has never managed to make happen. You feel so stupid, so stupid for letting him break you after all these years. All these years you wasted arguing with him almost every single day of your life. For what? What did either of you get out of it? You’ve never even stopped for a second to consider the words that you two were saying to each other, how much you were hurting each other. Well, you doubt you’ve ever really hurt Jungwon. He’s probably jumping up and down right now, cheering at the thought of finally winning. You just hope this means that it’s all over. You’re exhausted.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon’s voice appears just as you’re about to follow Yuna into the bathroom. 

You feel your breath grow heavier at the sound of his voice, humiliation rippling throughout your body. Maybe that’s why this affected you so much. Maybe it’s because Jungwon was calling you an idiot for thinking Sunghoon liked you. Because apparently he’s just another popular boy. And because apparently, he's just been fooling you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Hurriedly, he walks up to you and places a hand atop your head, his doe eyes boring right into yours. You want to push him away so hard and tell him to go find another girl to play with, but all you can do is stare back at him. “Look, come here.” He pulls you away from the safe space of the female bathroom and right into the disabled ones. 

You don’t know why, but as soon as Sunghoon locks the door, your tears start falling against your will. On instinct, you turn away and bring a hand to stop yourself from sobbing audibly. If what Jungwon said is true, you cannot let Sunghoon see you crying. You’ve read enough romance books to know that bad boys love it when a girl is vulnerable. But Sunghoon doesn’t speak; you’re not even sure he moves. The room is silent, albeit your quick breaths and occasional sobs. At this point, you’re just letting your body move on its own. Your mum always tells you it’s best to cry it out, to let your emotions ride out their course. So you decide to stay there and continue to cry into your already soaked hands. 

Once you’re done wiping away your cheeks and rubbing your eyes, you make your way to the mirror to see what you look like. If Sunghoon wasn’t in the room you would have cried all over again just from seeing your reflection. “Ugh, I’m a mess.”

Sunghoon giggles, and lifts himself up from leaning against the door to come stand behind you. Gently, he brushes away strands of your hair from your face and fixes your collar for you. “I think,” he makes eye contact with you in the mirror, “you look just fine.” 

-

Dear diary,

Unfortunately, I still hate Jungwon.

“No, why are you starting it like that again?” Yuna huffs beside you, probably disappointed at your relapse. It’s been a week since Jungwon made you cry, and it’s been a calm week, too. You never told Sunghoon what happened, but he’s been staying by your side at school since. He likes to call himself your personal bullmastiff, and that he scares away Jungwon who’s only a sheep. Although you’re still terrified that what Jungwon said about Sunghoon being a manwhore is true, there’s still a part of you that hopes it isn’t. You’re hoping he isn’t just hanging around to get in your pants.

“Because I’m mad, Yuna. If we’re really ending this, I can’t be the only one that’s upset about it. I need to think of one final thing to get back at him. Something that will really hurt him.” You explain, really disappointed in how much you’ve been lacking this school year. You haven’t gotten him back once, and it’s frustrating you.

“Hm, what about his motorbike?” Yuna asks, an evil glint to her eyes.

“No.” You shake your head. “No way. I would love to, believe me–”

“So why not?”

“Because his parents would kill me!”

“Oh come on, that bike costs to them what a piece of gum costs to us, Y/N.”

“No, I heard him tell his friend. You know that pervert, Heeseung? Yeah, they were talking about it and Jungwon was saying that it’s from a limited series and that his parents had to fly out to Thailand to bid for it.” You whisper, for some reason you don’t really know. “Thailand, Yuna.”

“Okay, why don’t we wear masks? We can get Sunghoon to help us, too. You know, like them ski masks.” Yuna motions the mask with her hands, a persuasive look on her face. You’re tempted to, you really are. The thought of taking the only thing that Jungwon seems to have human feelings for away from him is very tempting.

“But wait, he wouldn’t know it’s me.”

“Uh, Y/N, that’s a good thing? If he knows it’s you, you’d be sued.” 

“Oh, yeah, true.”

“We can enjoy our victory from afar, okay?”

You suck in a deep breath. “Okay.”

-

This may be the worst idea you’ve ever thought of in your entire life.

Here you are, standing in between Sunghoon (who Yuna had to convince for hours to come along) and Yuna. The three of you are wearing your ski masks, but Sunghoon is too much of a cheapskate to buy a new one so he’s wearing his dad’s bright blue mask and making the three of you look stupid. 

“Okay, on the count of three–”

“No wait!” Sunghoon’s voice squeaks as he whisper-shouts.

You and Yuna whip your heads into his direction, stunned at his voice crack. “Sunghoon, you’re the only guy here!” You whisper-shout back. “You can’t be the scared one.”

“I have never broken the law before, if I get caught doing this my parents are going to kill me, Y/N.” He panics, yet neither of you can take him seriously with his idiotic mask on. 

“What are you talking about? I’m pretty sure you broke about five laws driving us here in your mum’s car.” You snap, before looking at Yuna. “But maybe he’s r–”

“No, guys it’s now or never.” Yuna whispers, before tugging on both yours and Sunghoon’s sleeves, running ahead. Your veins are booming so loud you’re worried someone will be able to hear it. Arriving at the tail of the motorcycle, you raise a trembling finger to touch it. You gasp when you do, already mentally hearing the sounds of sirens coming closer and closer.

Yuna pulls out a hairpin and shoves it into the keyhole of the motorcycle while you and Sunghoon crouch and cower behind her, failing to keep a proper look out. This feels so wrong, but it’s too late to go back now. Sunghoon’s stupid mask is probably plastered all over the CCTVs already. You’ll probably need a miracle to not get yourself landed in prison.

Yuna whimpers as she struggles to switch on the engine. You’re starting to panic even more now, the thought of this all going horribly wrong circling your mind repeatedly. “It’s not working!” She yells, and you and Sunghoon look at each other with wide eyes. 

“Go help her!” You motion at him, your heart drumming louder than it ever has before.

“What do you mean go help her, why don’t you go help her?!” Sunghoon doesn't budge and only tightens his hold on the tail of the motorcycle.

“No, I’m keeping look out!”

“No you’re not, you’re looking at me!”

“Will you two shut up and come help me?!” Yuna screams, and you shoot up to go over and help her. It’s useless, though. No matter how much the two of you twist and turn the hairpin, the engine doesn’t turn on. “Why isn’t it working? We practised this like a thousand times!”

“I don’t know! Maybe because it’s a limited edition?!” You scream back, the plan blowing up in your face. 

“Fuck!” Yuna slams the head of the bike in anger as you start to lose control of your breaths. “I think I’ve broken the keyhole.” 

You groan loudly, closing your eyes to think of a way to fix this. Trying so hard to calm yourself down, you attempt to come up with another plan. It’s either that or the three of you need to escape—now

But as always, Jungwon’s voice interrupts you. His timing is probably his only positive attribute.

“Hey!” He barks at the other end of the road, making you and Yuna look at each other like you’ve seen a ghost. He’s running as fast as he can, so much so you can see his forehead shining under the street lights. 

“Let’s ditch the bike!” 

“No! We can’t let this all be for nothing!” 

“Out of the way ladies!” Sunghoon’s voice appears out of nowhere, and you turn to see him standing over the bike with a large pole in his hands. Oh, my God. Instinctively, you and Yuna jump off the bike and run behind Sunghoon to watch him do his dirty work.

You poke out your head, trying to catch your breath and a glimpse of Jungwon. “He’s close, hurry up!”

“No!” Jungwon screams, reaching his arms out, dread written all over his little baby face. “Stop, please!”

Sunghoon ignores him and draws back the pole before slamming it against the metal of the motorcycle. He hits it again and again, parts flying all over the place each time. He yells at every impact, like he was beating up a person. 

Jungwon arrives, and you can't help but notice his breaths are shaky and the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. He pulls Sunghoon away from you and punches him right in the jaw, a roar ripping right from the bottom of his lungs. The light sensors of the neighbouring houses switch on, and some neighbours even come out to take a peek. With the rush of the scene flowing through your veins, and the fear that all of this is for nothing, you pick up the pole that fell out of Sunghoon’s hands and hit the bike yourself. Hearing Jungwon beg like that so helplessly for the first time in your life only fuels your anger even more. Each whack, each hit, your mind flashes back to the times Jungwon hurt you, the times Jungwon forced you to build another wall.

“What’s the point of going to the school dance? It’s not like anybody wants to go with you, anyway.” Whoops, there goes the headlight.

“Oh, my God, you might as well go home if you’re going to be dressed like that the entire trip. Stop embarrassing us.” Oh no, the brake is broken.

“You failed chemistry again? Look, guys, she got 10%! What a loser!” Aw man, now the gas tank is leaking.

Before you can damage the bike anymore, Yuna pulls you back into reality. She’s yelling something at you, but your eyes can’t help but focus on Jungwon struggling against Sunghoon’s hold. 

“Please! No, please stop! I’ll give you anything you want, just get away from my bike!” 

He’s crying. 

Your surroundings suddenly blur as Yuna pulls you towards the car you guys came in. She shoves you in while telling you something but you can’t shift your attention from Jungwon who’s now given up and is laying still on the floor. He isn’t even fighting Sunghoon anymore. He’s just still, the base of his palms rubbing his eyes as his tears roll off his cheeks and fall onto the floor.

You made Jungwon cry. You made Yang Jungwon cry.

-

You're ashamed. You can't even step outside your house without making sure your hood is well over your head, hiding your face for anyone to see. There's no way anyone in the neighbourhood could know that it was you, right? You were completely covered; it could have been any two girls and a guy who smashed Jungwon's precious bike and brought him to tears.

Literal freaking tears.

In all the years you two have fought, Jungwon only ever smiles. He grins, or laughs that really annoying laugh where he throws his head back and stamps his feet on the floor. He pretends to be upset by putting a hand on his heart and squeezing his eyes shut, letting out an exaggerated gasp. He pretends to be mad by putting his hands on his hips and tilting his head so far sideways his hair looks like it's about to fall off. Jungwon is expressive, he enjoys winding you up by acting out his emotions—real or fake—dramatically. You've always hated it, but now you're praying that you're going to meet him on your way to school and he'll pretend to whine about how much you hurt him last night.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, waiting at the end of the road for Jungwon to appear. You're not really sure why. What are you even going to say if you see him? You can't even apologise for what you've done, his parents would definitely put you behind bars. The wait is killing you, impatience stirring in your stomach at an outrageous speed. Gulping, you contemplate whether you should go knock on his door or not. Maybe he's oversleeping because he's tired from last night. Maybe if you knock, he'll wake up and nag at you for babying him like he did before.

Without really thinking, you head straight to his front door step with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Breathing in, you press the doorbell. His house is huge, and the noise the doorbell makes almost frightens you out of your skin. The loud ring echoes in your mind loudly as you tap your foot on the ground and keep your eyes locked onto the door. You press it again. And again. And again.

And then you wait.

But Jungwon never comes out. Nobody does. Not him, his sister or his parents. You're even hoping some sort of maid will come and open the door. But nobody does. You're trying not to overthink the situation: maybe he's just being a teenage boy and angry that his bike is broken so he's decided to skip school today. 

The thought calms you down a little bit, so you turn around to leave. While turning back to the entrance, something shiny catches your eye around the corner of Jungwon's front yard. Curious, you scuttle towards it and poke your head around to see what it is. Your heart drops when you do. There it is. Jungwon's motorcycle that you smashed to pieces last night. Laying next to it, is an open box of tools, an unfinished cup of coffee, and Jungwon's jacket that he always wears under his blazer. The guilt at the pit of your stomach spreads around your body, squeezing your heart and scraping at your throat. Did he really stay up all night trying to fix it all by himself? 

Did you go too far?

-

"Come on, you're being weird." Sunghoon crosses his arms, not shifting his gaze away from you.

Usually, you appreciate his attentiveness because it makes you feel special and gets you all shy, but today it isn’t doing you any good. You chuckle breathlessly and pull the sheet of paper towards you. "So I just need to calculate the mass of this mole, right? Using this equation?"

Sunghoon sighs, "Y/N, you know you can tell me what's wrong, right?" 

You look up to meet his heavy gaze, his face already so close to yours. "No? Just because you chose to follow me around at school doesn't mean we're best friends, Sunghoon. It doesn't mean I can pour my heart out to you."

His expression doesn't falter, a blank look sitting on his face. "Then what are we?"

You pause, not really knowing how to answer that question. You're aware that he gives you butterflies, and that you find him attractive. But what about what Jungwon said about him sleeping around? Hasn't Sunghoon stayed around long enough for it to be more than that? Or is that all you guys are - good friends? But then why would Sunghoon ask that question? 

Confused and already emotionally drained from your crime yesterday, you scrunch up the question sheet in your hand and get up from your chair. Without saying a word to Sunghoon, you leave.

-

At home, you’re lying on your couch, flicking through the channels on the television. Nothing is exciting you since you can’t seem to pay attention to anything. There are only two things on your mind right now. Jungwon and Sunghoon.

As for Jungwon, you can’t stop picturing him in that little alleyway beside his house—sweating away, hurting himself trying to fix his motorcycle. He’s probably not eaten any real food in awhile, desperate to get it back to how it was before you and Yuna came up with that stupid plan. You groan into your hands, thinking about how you never thought you’d live to see the day you’d feel bad for Jungwon. Doesn’t he deserve this? Why does this bike mean so much to him? He can just fly out to Thailand and buy another one, right?

Then your thoughts suddenly shift to Sunghoon. If he really is the manwhore Jungwon pinned him out to be, how come he’s been nothing but supportive since you and Jungwon stopped talking to each other? There are no girls, you can’t see them. The only way it would be possible is if he has this whole other life outside of school. The partying, drinking and sex type of life. He said he’s never broken the law before, but he seemed pretty confident driving his mum’s car with one hand on the wheel and another on the radio. Do you even know Sunghoon? Sure, he���s a science nerd and likes to ice skate. But what else is there to him?

You sigh when the sound of the doorbell interrupts your thoughts. It’s 10pm, who could possibly be ringing at this time of night? Groggily, you get up, fixing your bun so you look a bit more appropriate for whoever it is that’s ruining your free time. Peering through the peephole, you’re only met with a man in a black hood who’s purposefully hiding his face from the door. A little worried, you call your mum over. “Mum! There’s a creepy man at the door!”

She hops out of the kitchen with a meat knife in one hand, a frying pan in the other and a terrified look on her face. “You take the knife,” she whispers, “and hide behind me while I hold the pan and see what this guy wants.”

“Wait, why am I holding the knife?” You point at yourself, your mum’s behaviour starting to affect you, too. 

The doorbell rings again and you both flinch. “Because if he sees the knife in my hand he might attack. So you hide behind me, okay? I’m just going to open the door like an inch wide, don’t worry.” Her eyes are wide while she tries to convince you to follow through with her not-well-thought out plan. 

You do anyway. “Okay.”

You take the knife from your mum before the two of you sneak towards the door. Hesitantly, she opens it, and the thought of her life being taken right before you flashes in your mind for a second. Right before she lets out a relieved laughter, a hand on her chest. “It’s just the Yangs’ kid, Y/N. Don’t scare me like that again.”

Jungwon? What the hell is he doing here? You poke your head out from beside her and see Jungwon looking down at his feet that are awkwardly kicking the floor. “I didn’t know it was him, sorry.” You mutter, furrowing your brows at him.

“I am so sorry, Jungwon. Is there something you need?” Your mum asks, widening the door. When he looks up, you can’t help but cringe. His eye bags are heavy, and his lips are so chapped they’re peeling. Not to mention how red and sore his eyes are, he’s struggling to even keep them open. He’s worse than the time you went to give him the tray of food. You don’t even realise that you two are staring at each other silently until your mum speaks up again. “Is something wrong?”

His eyes quickly divert to your mum’s and he clears his throat aggressively. “No, uh, I just wanted to know if your husband is here.”

Your mum shakes her head, “No, he’s visiting his brother right now. He won’t be back for a few days.” 

“Can you call him?” You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungwon speak so meekly before. It’s odd, and the thought that you may have broken him makes your toes curl.

“Yes, yes, what do you want me to say?”

“How to fix a motorcycle brake. I remember that he had one a few years ago, so I thought he’d know.” 

“Oh! Was it your motorbike that got smashed by those teenagers?” Jungwon nods, his eyes falling to the ground again. “Ms Jung showed me her CCTV cameras and how horrible those kids were. Their parents really need to sort them out.” She tuts, pulling out her phone.

Even your mum is disgusted by your behaviour last night. Of course she is, what you did was way out of line. You play with your fingers as the guilt travels further, making you a lot more jittery than usual. “My dad’s break broke once and he showed me how to fix it. I can, uh, help if you want.” It’s the least you can do, an easy repair, indirectly apologise, and throw away this stupid guilt so you can focus on getting your school life back on track. Maybe after you help him fix his bike, the two of you can finally be even and put your pettiness in the past once and for all.

Jungwon only looks you in the eyes, not saying anything. They remind you of Sunghoons’; loud and heavy. 

“Oh, okay, that’s perfect. You go and help him. I’ll bring some snacks later.” Your mum pushes you out of the house, and you curse her for doing so when all you’re wearing is a hoodie, a pair of cycling shorts, and slippers. “Bye!” She waves, shutting the door in your face before you can even speak.

Well, this is awkward. Turning around, you try to put on a smile to Jungwon, but his eyes flicker straight from your eyes to your mouth before he storms back to his house. You follow him with a huff, realising that this is going to be a long hour. Catching up to him, you throw your hood over your head and stuff your hands in your pockets to try and stay warm. “So,” you start, trying to get straight to the point, “if we’re lucky, all you’ll need to do is clean the pistons. You know, those little metal things that open and close w-”

“I know what a piston is.” He grumbles, opening his gate. “I would have done that if that girl didn’t smash it off my bike.” 

Your eyes lower as he unknowingly mentions you, and try to shake off the feeling of guilt again. You never would have guessed this would have hurt him this much. But then again, isn’t that what you wanted? “Oh,” you chuckle awkwardly, “well then this is gonna take a long time.” 

The two of you arrive at the corner, and that’s when you notice there are three more cups of coffee lying next to the bike. You purse your lips, trying to throw away the imagination of him desperately attempting to stay awake, pushing his body well past its limits all in order to fix what you broke. 

“Okayyy,” you whisper, copying Jungwon by getting on your knees, followed by a hiss once you feel the cold rocky ground. Clearing your throat, you turn to him, who still has an emotionless look on his face. You really wish he would do something right now. You wouldn’t even mind it if he made fun of you. Staring at him like this, like an empty shell, is too much to bear. “So, where’s the brake?” You put out your hand, and Jungwon complies by giving it to you. Observing it, you’re relieved that it hasn’t been damaged too much, and that it’s okay to put it back on the bike. “First, we need to take the callipers off the bike.” You don’t explain what it is this time, since he got agitated when you did it before. “Should I do one side and you do the other?” 

He nods, so you crawl over to the other side, and together, the two of you start working on the bike.

After around twenty minutes of silent working, you decide to ask a question that’s been on your mind since the second you saw him cry. “Jungwon?” You ask. He doesn’t respond, but you know that he hears you. “Why don’t you just get your parents to buy you another one?”

It takes him a while to reply, you assume he’s just busy with the clamps. “They can’t. There’s no more on sale.” 

You’re aware that it sounds a bit harsh, but you still push. “Can’t they just buy another brand?” 

Jungwon’s eyes meet yours through the tiny gaps between the motorcycle parts. “I don’t want another one.”

You sigh at his vague responses. “Okay, what about hiring someone to come and fix your bike? Or getting a friend, literally anyone-”

Abruptly, Jungwon throws the clamp onto the floor, the ring of the metal bouncing around your skull. “I didn’t ask you to come and help, you know? You offered. If you don’t want to, there’s nothing stopping you from leaving.” He spits, his eyes piercing into yours angrily. 

You put your hands up in a feign defence. “I’m sorry, I was just asking.” You mutter under your breath, a little shocked at his reaction. “I’m okay with fixing the bike, it just looked like you didn’t wanna ask so I was telling you there are other options.” 

Jungwon sighs, before picking up the clamp and getting back to work. “I know.” He mumbles, and you can hear the piston creaking under the pressure of his clamp hold. “I know there are other options, but I don’t trust any of them with this bike. I’ve known your dad for a while and I remember how much he cared about his bike, so I thought I’d just ask him to help.” The thought of Jungwon trusting your dad over his creepy friends makes you feel a lot better, but the sound of the piston about to snap distracts you.

Crawling back over, you return to Jungwon’s side. You don’t even notice that your thighs are touching each other when you reach out to take the clamp from his hands. He looks at you a little alarmed, but you respond with an awkward smile. “You’re putting too much pressure. You have to unstick one piston at a time, if you do it like that it’ll snap.” You explain, opting to do it yourself to save some time.

“How come you know how to fix a break?” He asks randomly, startling you a little bit. 

You stay focused while you answer him, your eyes not moving from the clamp. “Sometimes my dad teaches me things like this. He says he does it because he doesn’t have a son.”

“What other things has he taught you?” 

Since this is the first real conversation you’ve ever had with Jungwon, you decide not to question why he cares about your relationship with your dad so much.  “How to ride a bike, how to play football, how to put up a shelf, how to fix a laptop that’s had water spilled on it.” You giggle at the last one, memories piling into your head. Jungwon doesn’t say anything else so you turn around to see why. He’s just staring at your hands working with the clamp, so you choose to fill in the tense silence. “The time he broke his break, he called me over while I was studying. I told him that it’s not important since a motorcycle break and a bike break are two completely different things and that this would never come in handy.” You face Jungwon again, and his eyes meet yours. “Turns out it did come in handy.” 

There’s a moment, a long moment of comfortable silence with the two of you staring at each other. For the first time, you notice the shape of his eyes and how delicately pulled out they are. They’re kind of pretty, in a boyish sort of way. You can’t really believe you’ve been staring at these eyes for the past eight years without ever finding yourself swimming in them until now. 

Jungwon scoffs, breaking eye contact before taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m surprised you didn’t turn out heavy handed since you were basically brought up as a boy,” he mutters against the cup.

With that, you unconsciously suck in such a deep breath of air. A wave of relief washes over your body as you let out an incredibly loud laugh at his comment. There he is, the asshole that is Yang Jungwon. You seriously thought you broke him, but hearing him say something so rude wiped away any and all of your doubt. 

He’s back. And you couldn’t be more than happy about it. 

-

Walking into school the next day, you’re a little bit anxious. You’re anxious because:

You might bump into Sunghoon and he might start asking scary questions again

You might bump into Jungwon and have to start fighting again

You don’t want either of those scenarios to happen. So when Sunghoon spots you and says goodbye to his friends, you panic and pull onto your friend’s sleeve. “Quick, pretend we’re having a really serious and private conversation.”

She panics and tries to think of something to say. “Uh, I made out with Sunghoon at Ryujin’s party!” With her eyes shut, in front of everyone in the hallway, your friend, Chaeryeong, admitted to sleeping with Sunghoon. You spot him from the corner of your eye, freezing once he heard what Chaeyoung said, and you wait for him to come over and ask why you two are making up shit about him. He doesn’t. 

“Are you being serious right now? I said pretend, Chaeryeong.” Your hand slips away from hers as you look at her in pure disbelief.

“I’m sorry, it’s been on my mind a lot recently because he’s been hanging out with you so much. So when you said say something serious, that was the first thing I could think of.” She rushes, clearly panicked by your response.

“Wait,” you take a step closer to whisper, “When was this? Recently?”

She gives you a worried look, before turning around to see Sunghoon and then turning back to you. “Last, uh, Saturday?”

Saturday. Last Saturday. That was only four days ago. Four days ago you were FaceTiming him while he was helping you with your physics homework. Four days ago was when you asked if he could help you finally get over the Jungwon situation, and he told you that he really wanted to help because he couldn’t stand to see you so hurt. Four days ago was when you told Yuna you think you have a crush on him.

Stepping away, you give one last glance at Sunghoon. “I can't believe you,” you mutter, before turning around and storming away. You tell yourself the reason why you didn’t go up to him and scream in his face is because of the attention you would have gained, but it isn’t; you’re too scared to face him because you were already warned about him ages ago. As funny as it sounds, you should have listened to Jungwon.

-

“What?! Chaeryeong? Our Chaeryeong?” Yuna chokes on her water, surprised.

“Yeah,” you sigh, scribbling away in your notebook. “I’m not really bothered about that, I mean she can sleep with whoever she wants. It’s just, I really thought there was something between me and Sunghoon.” 

Yuna kisses her teeth before shaking her head. “Even I thought there was. Why is he always with you if he’s sleeping with other girls?” Her body simultaneously shivers with yours. “That’s just gross.”

“Maybe he just sees me as a friend. You know in those romance books where the hot guy who gets all the girls appreciates the girl who doesn’t wanna have sex with him and likes hanging around with her?”

“Y/N, they always end up falling in love.”

“Oh. Well, that’s not happening, is it?” You slouch in your seat. 

Jungwon walks into the room, and you smile at Yuna, happy to know that he’s back on his feet. You wait for him to say the same thing he always does when he walks past you to get to his seat. Anxiously, your foot taps on the ground as you nibble on your bottom lip, your eyes not moving from Jungwon’s.

Yuna taps you and leans in to whisper, “You can see it now, right?” Her eyebrows giggle, a huge smirk on her lips.

You cringe at what she said, refusing to let her silly thoughts get to your head. “Shut up,” you mutter, before turning back to see Jungwon talking to another classmate. You hate to admit it, but your eyes do linger on him a little longer. You can’t help but notice the long, dark strands of hair that almost cover his eyes. His nose and jawline are sharp, contrary to his soft and small lips. Your eyes trail down to his Adam's apple as he speaks, and you watch as it bobs up and down attentively. It’s strange that you’ve known Jungwon for so long, yet you’ve never actually taken the time out of your day to really look at him. Because he’s actually really good looking.

“See?” Yuna giggles, slapping your arm playfully. “You’re staring.”

Your head darts to her direction with wide eyes. “I’m just waiting for him to come over.”

“Nu-uh, you’re finally listening to me. I told you he gets girls.” She motions for you to lean in closer while she whispers. “Last year, I peeked into his locker on Valentine’s Day, and I counted thirteen letters, Y/N. Thir-teen.” 

Thirteen girls gave Jungwon a love letter last year? You scoff, resting your chin on your palm as you look at him again. If they knew what you knew, that Jungwon is a total asshole, you bet they’d run far away from him. “I don’t get it. Is it just because of his looks? Are they that shallow?”

Yuna shrugs from beside you. “Well, I’ve heard a lot of good things about him.”

You laugh sarcastically, “Are you gonna talk about the time he helped that one new student when she dropped her books on the floor again?”

“Well, there’s that. But there are other things, too, that I’ve tried to tell you but you just turn down because you hate him so much. Like the time he stopped a boy from getting bullied. It was so cool, Y/N, he just shoved the bully in his shoulders and looked him right in the eyes and told him to fuck off.” 

Something twists in your stomach at that word. It reminds you of when Sunghoon asked if 

Jungwon is just a bully. You can’t be staring at him now, talking about all the good deeds he’s done and why all the girls in your school have a crush on him. He’s mean. He’s insulted you, belittled you, degraded you. You could go on and on about all the times Jungwon has hurt you and laughed in your face whenever he did. He’s a selfish, spoiled rich kid that derives entertainment from picking on you. And like all your friends warn you not to do, you react, dragging it out longer. Maybe if you just stayed silent in the first place, this would have never continued for so long. 

Blinking, you suddenly realise that Jungwon is batting his eyes at you right in front of your face. You gasp, furrowing your eyes and jerking back once you realise how close his face is to yours. Shit, you spaced out and he caught you staring.

“What you staring at, number 23?” He asks, his old grin back on his face.

“Number 23?”

“Class ranks are up on the board.” He explains, and your heart drops to your feet when you realise what he’s saying. “You know,” Jungwon gets up, hands in his pockets as he peers down at you with that familiar evil glint in his eyes. “I thought signing you up for chemistry club would at least get you into the teens. But you only moved up one spot? One?”

Okay, you may have wanted normal Jungwon back, but did his first strike have to be so harsh? Getting up, you realise your legs are trembling. Something inside of you is telling you not to bite back this time, that it’s not worth it. If you truly want this war to end, then you have to be the bigger person and back down. Pursing your lips, you simply walk past him to follow the crowd of students into the hallway to see the class rankings. 

“Oh. My. God, Y/N. You should have seen the look on his face!” Yuna laughs, but you can’t join her. It was embarrassing to let him talk down to you like that. You wish you said something, but this needs to end. This is the first step you need to take.

“Let’s just focus on our class rankings for now.” You say, approaching the wall. 

Although Jungwon made fun of your rank, you have to hide a smile when you see it. It’s not high at all, but at least you’ve improved. With everything that’s been going on recently, you need something positive to cling onto. You pull out your phone to call your mum about your improvement, excited to hear about how proud she’ll be. 

But a voice from behind stops you. You can feel the heat of his body so close to yours, and your heart immediately starts doing backflips. “23rd? That means I’m going to have to spend a lot more time tutoring you, right?” His voice is uplifted, and that pisses you off even more.

Turning around, you furrow your brows and fold your arms. “Really? Are you just going to pretend that–”

Sunghoon, with his hands buried in his pockets and his lips pursed, shrugs. “I asked you what we are, and you just left.” 

That is very true. You did, quite rudely, leave. You erased that part of your day from your mind, and even avoided writing it down in your diary. All you needed was time, because the following week was when you and Yuna figured out what your feelings are towards him. Sighing, you answer. “I know.”

“I helped you break–” he pulls on your blazer to drag the two of you away from the crowd as he leans in to whisper, “I helped you break Jungwon's bike. I know you think that that's a normal thing for a guy like me, but it isn't. I don't go around, smashing people's things, you know. I did that for you, and all I got was a little thank you text.”

Everything he's saying is true, and that's frustrating you further.

“You can't be mad about who I sleep with, Y/N. I've been hovering around for so long, and still, the only guy you think of is Jungwon.”

“What are you even hanging around for, though? Jungwon he-he told me that you treat girls like trophies. I thought–” The eye contact Sunghoon holds with you is intense, he doesn't turn away once. You're too scared to break it because you've never seen him this serious before. 

“So you believed him over me? Someone that you ‘hate’ over a friend? You didn't even bring that up with me, Y/N!" He whisper-shouts, pressing an arm against the lockers beside him so that he can lower his head to meet yours. “You need to ask yourself what's your deal with Jungwon, because I'm not sure you really know what it is.” Gently, he lets go of your blazer and dusts it down with his hands, causing you to blush intensely. 

“You're gonna keep me up all night because of this, now, you know that, right?” You chuckle sarcastically, keeping your eyes on his hand that's lingering above yours. 

He chuckles back, “I know.” His hand stops hovering, and goes back to his pocket.

Looking up at him, you smile endearingly. “We can still be friends, right? Even if whatever this is doesn't sort out the way we want it to, you'll still be my friend.”

"Ayyyyy,” Sunghoon laughs, but it seems forced, and presses a finger into your shoulder. “You're just saying that for the free tutoring lessons.” 

-

Dear diary,

I hate Jungwon.

You groan into your arms after you realise what you've just written, disappointed in yourself. It's embarrassing to admit that Sunghoon is right, that Jungwon is constantly on your mind. If it's not the awful things he's said, or the stupid pranks he's played, then it's the way he puckers his lips together when he snorts out a laugh, or the way he wiggles his eyebrows at you to try and piss you off. You've probably never even scratched the surface of Jungwon's mind, yet he somehow lives in yours constantly.

A ping from your phone distracts you from your thoughts.

jung_1: my tire popped

you: and?

jung_1:  use your daddy skills to come and fix it

you:  if u think u can jus tell me what to do ???? then you're vv wrong :/

jung_1:  u came before what's wrong this time?

you: im busy

jung_1: so am i but i can't get anything done without my bike

you: u need to get it checked out professionally

ik u have some weird attachment issues to it but fixing the brakes and tires isn't enough to get that thing up and running again

jung_1: well, miss 23, unlike u i have a brain

fixing everything one at a time v slowly will work eventually

patience is key

so can u jus come already

you: what's in it for me?

jung_1: idk wtf

food?

you: do i look like a dog to u

jung_1: idk??? u name it ill get whatever u want

you: ok fine whatever

After you get dressed to go to Jungwon's house, you scribble one last thing into your diary before you go. 

Let's hope that when I come back, I won't be saying that I hate him again.

-

With a bag of food from your mum to give to Jungwon's parents, you ring his doorbell hesitantly. You will never get over the difference between your house and his despite the fact that you two live just a few houses away from each other. While yours is small and cosy with a garden full of roses and apple trees, Jungwon's stands tall—so modern that it doesn't even have a front garden, it's all just rock hard concrete. 

Opening the door you're met with a sour face when Jungwon looks you up and down. “What's that?” He asks, pointing at your carrier bag.

You inwardly sigh, reminding yourself of the trouble he's putting himself through because of you. “Homemade kimbap.” You hand it to him and he takes it cautiously, eyeing the bag like you hid a bomb in it. “Relax, my mum made it.”

Jungwon's head pops right up when you say that, and you swear his lips are trying their best not to pull up into a smile. Clearing his throat, however, he returns to his normal bitter expression and brushes his hair out of his gaze. “Whatever, come inside while I get dressed.” 

It's only when Jungwon mentions it that you look down and notice that he’s only wearing a pair of underwear. Making a mental note to never visit a teenage boy's house unannounced again, you awkwardly hop inside and sit on the kitchen counter that he directs you to wait at. 

While Jungwon is away, you're left with the housemaid. You've always guessed that they had one, yet you've never seen her leave the house before. Anyone could mistake this for slavery, how scary. 

“Are you Jungwon's friend?” She asks, opening the bag of kimbap that you brought. You nod, deciding it's best not to explain your confusing and infuriating situation to Jungwon's housemaid, and she smiles endearingly, taking out the food. “I'm surprised. He's only ever brought those two hooligans over.”

“Jeongseong and Heeseung?” You ask, chuckling.

She laughs with you at the mention of Jungwon's awful friends who you are secretly afraid of. “They're like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, them two. It's nice to see that some of his friends are sane.” As soon as she unwraps and sees the food, however, the housemaid gasps, a repelled look on her face.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, worried.

“Jungwon can't eat this, it isn't fresh.”

You open your mouth to explain that it had only just been cooked a few hours ago, but choose not to. This is Jungwon's rich and snobby lifestyle, there's no point arguing with someone who knows him a lot better than you do.

“What a waste,” she sighs, “I'll just have to throw it away.” You really want to yell at the woman for disrespecting your mother's food, but the thought of Jungwon's parents catching you screaming at their trusted maid through a secret camera and suing you scares you too much to do so.

But just before she's able to throw it away, Jungwon appears in a zipped up coat and joggers, an arm in front of the bin. “No, no, no, no, Mrs Kim, it's okay.” He says softly, a hand resting on her back as he smiles at her.

Smiles. Like, really smiles. He's acting so gentle around her it's scaring you. Lightly, he takes the dish from her hands and settles it on the middle counter opposite you. He doesn't look up, he just opens the tinfoil and lets his jaw drop slightly at the kimbap your mum forced you to roll for him. You'll never let him know that, though.

“Jungwon, it isn't fresh, you'll get sick.” Mrs Kim retorts, but he's already digging one out. You and Mrs Kim both silently watch Jungwon eat his food contently, and you hate to say it but he eats in such a cute way. His cheeks puff out and he takes such small nibbles of the food, like he's savouring it all. 

“Your mum made this?” He asks, his eyes wide. 

A little thrown off by him, you play with the strings of your jacket. “Uh, yeah. She just told me to bring this when I said I was coming over.” You answer awkwardly. He isn’t throwing any insults at you, and that’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. 

He raises his brows while nodding, continuing to eat his food, leaving you and Mrs Kim standing beside each other in an odd silence. That is, until she leans in to whisper something to you. “He’s never eaten my kimbap so happily before, I wonder what your mum put in this one.” There’s a scowl on her face as bitterness lingers around her words.

You chuckle breathlessly, not really sure why Jungwon’s devouring your mum’s kimbap either. “It’s nothing special.”

Jungwon eyes the two of you before mumbling, “Stop staring.” and grabbing the rest of the food and making his way towards the door. You hesitantly scuttle behind him after giving Mrs Kim an undeserved bow. What a rude woman.

“How’d you pop it?” You ask, staring at the tire in horror as you realise the inner tube is punctured and this is going to be a very long job.

He chuckles, rubbing his hand at the nape of his neck, “Uh, I left my glass out and when I was pushing the bike it kinda just rolled over it.”

Sighing, you give him a defeated expression, “Seriously? You just added to the list of things that I’ve already broken.”

“What?”

You have to stop your breath for a second in order to hide the look of down right fear on your face as you almost slipped the crime you committed. “List of things that need fixing, I mean.” You shake your head and tut, trying to act out feign annoyance. Slowly, you peer over to Jungwon to see if he’s caught on, and he’s just staring blankly. Clearing your throat, you decide changing the topic is your best option right now. “Uhm, do you have a puncture kit?”

Jungwon, after a very long staredown, eventually replies and hands over the kit to you. You have to thank the skies for not throwing you under the bus because that was way too close. Even your hands are shaking a little as you open the kit and get on your knees, the nerves making you very tense. You don’t even have the courage to start up a conversation, and so the two of you work in silence like you did the last time. 

After about an hour in, Jungwon speaks up. “My parents bought this for me.” 

Ignoring the way you jumped at the way his voice suddenly appeared out of nowhere, you scoff. “Well, it’s not like you’ve had to work a day in your life to earn enough money to buy this.”

The dark haired boy huffs, clearly vexed. “No, I mean, they actually bought it. Like it wasn’t just a written cheque, or money into my bank account, or bought online. They flew to Thailand with me to buy it.” He explains, and when you turn to him, his eyes are boring into yours. 

“Okay, and?” You chuckle again, not really paying much mind to his words and focusing on your work instead. It’s just a bike, what is he trying to say that’s so important?

Abruptly, he brings his hand to his laps and flashes you an offended look. Worried that you’ve pressed the wrong buttons, you stop too, quietly letting him continue. “You asked why I only wanted your dad’s help. I’m answering you, okay?”

“Okay, I get it.” 

“It’s- they don’t do that, they don’t go out with me for..me.” You still don’t have a clue what he’s talking about, but you nod anyway. “This bike, it’s the only reminder I have at this point that my parents love- not love, but, ugh, you know what I mean.” He rambles, playing with the strings of his tracksuit bottoms nervously.

Trying your very best to put the pieces together, you tilt your head and ask, “You don’t think your parents love you?”

“I mean, yeah,” he panics, “I’m sure they do, but they’re not like your parents, for example.”

“My parents?” Well, now you’re really lost.

Jungwon sighs, averting his gaze from you to the bike. “You know, like my dad never taught me the things yours did. My parents never dropped me off to school like yours did. My mum doesn’t even know how to cook..” He mumbles, his voice slowly drifting off with each sentence. 

“Jungwon,” you furrow your brows, “Have you been..comparing your parents to mine all these years?” Now that you think about it, there have been many times where you would be talking to your parents, and from the corner of your eye you’d stop Jungwon staring. You’ve always brushed it off, not wanting to think about the boy any more than you needed to, but now you’re thinking that maybe you should have. It’s common knowledge that money doesn’t buy you happiness, and you and Yuna have always blamed Jungwon’s lavish lifestyle for his bitchiness. But loneliness? That’s something you’ve never associated with him. 

Jungwon lets out a groan, before picking up a screwdriver again. “No.” He mutters under his breath, before turning his back to you completely.

Not wanting to prod at the situation any further, you hesitantly get back to work, too.

It’s been three hours since the two of you started working on the bike. Out of fear that Jungwon had caught on to what you said about you being the culprit, you tried helping him fix the other parts of the motorcycle, too. (Albeit your lack of knowledge of how to do so.) The alleyway has been silent for hours, the only noises were your uncomfortable giggles, shaky breaths and your nails tapping against anything they could find. Jungwon didn’t ask about your slip up, so you are hoping to God that he has no doubt about you because that would just be a one way ticket to jail. 

You don’t even realise that it’s 8pm, dark, and absolutely freezing until you find yourself shivering and brushing up your hands against your bare arms. Jungwon probably hears your chattering teeth as he looks over and juts his chin out at you. “You cold?” He asks, expressionless.

You nod immediately, standing up to stretch your legs and shake them to circulate some warmth around you. The only light the two of you have is the spotlight above you and it’s wearing out a little, making it difficult to see. “Just a little.”

Jungwon eyes your outfit, “You should have brought a coat,” he mutters, before doing the absolute unexpected.

Slack-jawed, you watch Jungwon unzip his puffer coat and hand it to you like it was normal for him to do so. With furrowed brows, you stand still, trying to find the catch behind his actions. “What?” He grumbles. “You’d rather freeze?”

Crossing your arms, you laugh at him. Seeing your breath fog up in the air, you start to reconsider declining his offer. “The last time you offered me a coat, Jungwon, it was from a dumpster. Everyone laughed at me because I had no idea and I wore it the entire PE session.” You explained, hoping he’d catch on to your lack of trust in him.

“Well, this isn’t from a dumpster, so just take it.” His arm is still extended, but you can’t bring yourself to take it from him.

“Just because I’ve come over to help you a few times,” you glare at him, “it doesn’t mean we’re friends now. This isn’t enough for me to forget everything you’ve done to me, Jungwon.” Saying this out loud to him for the first time feels weird. Neither of you have ever confronted each other about your situation. It’s always been avoided. 

Jungwon pulls his arm back towards him, before taking a few steps towards you. “I never said we’re friends, just take the fucking coat.” He curses aggressively, making you flinch a little.

But the two of you are fully aware that you won’t back down from anything without a fight. “I don’t want your coat, Jungwon. It’s bad enough that I’m here, fixing something that you have enough money to do yourself. I don’t need your stupid pity either.”

Chuckling in disbelief, Jungwon rolls his eyes and shoves the coat into your arms. “Again, all I asked was for you to fix the tire. You chose to stay longer. I told you last time that you’re more than welcome to leave if you don’t wanna be here!” He yells at you.

Jungwon has never shouted at you before. It’s always been snarky comments and childish insults. This is new, and you’re not really sure how to react to it.

“Fine! I will leave! I can’t believe I fucking rolled that kimbap for you myself because I was scared you hadn’t eaten anything.” You shout back, throwing his coat on the floor before storming to his gate. “You’re never going to change, are you?” You mumble, while trying to open his gate. 

Suddenly, you feel Jungwon’s hand belligerently pull your shoulder back so you can face him as his fingers tightly grip around your upper arm. His face is merely inches away from yours, eyes piercing right through you like a new found anger has lit inside of him. “I’ve not changed? I literally just offered you my coat.”

“Oh, wow, you’re such a saint, Jungwon.” You seethe, despite the fear running through your blood at the intensity of his glare. “What about me? Huh? I helped you fix half of your bike, I put up with the shitty chemistry club stunt you pulled on me, I helped make your food-”

“And I am trying my best to return the favour!” He snaps again, letting go of your arm.

It’s not until then that you notice a delivery driver parked right outside of Jungwon’s house. Looking over at him, you notice the bags of food in his hands as he awkwardly smiles at the two of you. Your gaze shifts between Jungwon and the driver a few times. “You ordered this?” You ask, pointing at the man who's given up smiling and is now impatiently waiting for you both to collect your food. “For us?”

“I don't like burgers.” He spits, picking up his coat off the ground to pull out his wallet.

While Jungwon is apologising and paying the delivery driver, you stare at your feet in regret. That was way too stubborn of you. Jungwon really was just trying to be helpful by giving you his coat, but you were too prideful to take it. You thought you were better than this, you thought you were better than him. Maybe this issue has always been a two-sided conflict and you've just been too angry to see otherwise.

“Here,” he hands you the bag, and this time you take it reluctantly. 

Pulling out the box to open it, you're met with a fresh little burger meal. It's not much. Hell, it's nothing at all since you're sure Jungwon can afford way more than this cheap rubbish. But it still warps a guilt around your body so twisted you feel too sick to eat the meal. 

A gasp falls from your lips as soon as it hits you; as soon as the realisation of why the bike Jungwon adores so much hits you. He’s connected to it emotionally. It’s the only form of love he’s ever gotten. And you broke it. You can’t believe you broke something so precious to someone. The silence is thick. You can't bring yourself to look at him. There's only one thing running through your mind right now.

He deserves to know what you did.

Your chest feels heavy as Jungwon goes back to sitting on the ground and working on his bike. Agitation punches at your heart while its beats echoes around your head.

He needs to know what you did.

Biting your nails, you turn around to face him. He's been working so hard for days, and it's all because of you. You went too far, and he's paying the consequences—when it should be you. Clearing your throat, you waste no time telling him. 

“I did it.”

Jungwon's hands stop moving, but his gaze remains on the motorcycle.  

“I broke your..I broke your motorbike.” You say hurriedly before nibbling on your bottom lip. He still doesn't move. “It wasn't just me, but I did pretty much most of it.” 

You wait for him to lash out and scream at you, to call the police and have you locked away for life. You wait for him to cry, or yell, or insult you. Anything. But instead he does nothing.

He just quietly says. “Get out.”

“Jungwon, I'm so sorry, I wanted to tell–”

“I said get out.” His voice is low and empty.

“I–”

He cuts you off by darting his head towards your direction and glowering at you. So you decide to leave.

-

Dear diary,

I messed up. Big time.

With not enough energy in your system to write anymore in your diary due to the hours of homework you’ve just spent, you pull out your phone instead. Opening Instagram, you decide to aimlessly scroll through your friends’ stories.

First up is Ryujin—dolled up and singing into the camera with a few other girls you mildly recognise. There must be a party, you think. Swiping, you see a picture of Yeji and her boyfriend with red paper cups in their hands, smiling really cheesily. You chuckle at the photo, swiping up and replying to her story with “couple goals fr”. The next video on Yeji’s story, however, forces you to sit up in your chair.

While it seems like a normal video of a normal high school party with Yeji and Jisu dancing away and screaming to the music, your eyes can’t help but wander to the person dancing by themself in the background.

Yang Jungwon. And he’s alone.

This throws you off completely, because from the few parties you’ve visited and from what you’ve seen on people’s stories, Jungwon’s always been one of the lives of the party. He’s always in his huge group of school friends, dancing in the middle of the room, screaming into the microphones, spraying people with water guns. Jungwon was in fact one of the reasons you don’t go to parties often, because you can’t escape his loud personality. So seeing him in the corner, alone, with a bland expression on his face, you feel your heart sink.

And for some reason, you find yourself throwing on an outfit, fixing your hair, putting on some makeup and rushing out the doors.

“Hey!” Yeji approaches you, squeezing your side. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, we would have got my man to pick you up!” She screams over the music, looking at you excitedly. 

Before you can answer her, Yeji’s dragging you further into the house. “It’s been so long since you’ve come to a party, Y/N!” She cheers, putting down her drink to hold onto your other hand and start dancing with you. Smiling awkwardly, you dance along a little, but your eyes keep batting around the room, searching for that one familiar face. Yeji leans forward to yell into your ear, “Is something wrong?!” 

You wince at the volume of her voice, flinching away in fear that she’ll damage your eardrum if she shouts any louder. “I’m fine! Have you seen-?!”

“Sunghoon?!” Yeji asks, both of your bodies still swaying along to the music. “Chaeryoung told us you broke it off with him! That’s why she’s over there with him now!” She points over to the kitchen where the two of them are. You watch as Chaeryoung giggles at whatever Sunghoon is saying, leaning into his taller frame and shyly touching his forearm. 

Well, that was quick of him to move on. 

Yeji holds onto both of your arms before looking into your eyes endearingly, “Do you still like him?! You know, we really need to talk about stuff like this more!” She explains as you squint your eyes, the LED flashing lights and blaring music making it difficult to focus on what she’s saying. “I miss our girly talks where we’d all talk about boys, and-!”

“Y/N!” Yuna appears from your left, immediately hugging you as she does. “You should have told me you were coming, we could have got Yeji’s boyfriend to pick you up!”

You and Yeji giggle at Yuna repeating the same phrase—realising that your whole friend group practically rely on Yeji’s boyfriend for travel. “It’s fine, I just came here for-!”

“Sunghoon?!” She asks, giving you an empathetic look. “He’s with Chaeryoung!” 

Now why does everyone assume you’re here for Sunghoon?

“No, I’m here for Jungwon!”

“What?!” Both your friends yell in unison, animating their confusion with their furrowed brows and cringed noses. 

“Jungwon!” 

Yuna eyes Yeji a little worriedly before she bends down to speak in your ear. “You’re not going to confess, are you?” Unfortunately, you haven’t given your best friend the news of what happened between you and your so-called-enemy, so you chuckle awkwardly when she asks. “Because my parents will kill me if they find out, Y/N.”

You shake your head and offer her a fake smile, “No, don’t worry, I just need to speak to him.”

Reluctantly, she lets you go and you search the house for Jungwon. But instead, you’re met with another distraction. Perfect.

You don’t even need to turn around to know that a certain black-haired tall boy is standing behind you as you recognise the feeling of his chest almost pressed against your back. Sighing aggravatingly, you turn around to meet him. “Hey.”

Sunghoon takes a few seconds to respond, his eyes roaming your face and outfit longingly. “It’s been awhile!” He shouts, giggling at the awkwardness of having to speak over the music before stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. “You look really nice!”

“What?!”

“I said, you look really nice!” He repeats, this time a beautiful smile washing over his strong features. He grins at you, smiling so wide you get a perfect view of his teeth and tiny eyes.

“Thank you! So do you!” You laugh, but your smile turns sour once you remember your last conversation with him and the reason why you’re here. 

Swiftly, Sunghoon pulls you by your waist, taking you by surprise. Keeping your attention on him distracted you from the shift in music from EDM to a much slower song, so when Sunghoon tugs you to dance with him, you’re panicking. His fingers hold you softly, barely touching you at all, and when you look up into his eyes, they’re already staring back down at you. He’s perfect; practically everything anyone wants in a partner. So why is Jungwon still the only person on your mind right now?

The room is a lot quieter now, so the two of you don’t need to scream in each other’s faces anymore. Thank God for that. 

“Who did you dress up for, pretty?” Your cheeks can’t help but flare up at the pet name, and you have to purse your lips from smiling like a child. “It definitely wasn’t for me, was it?” There’s a sad smile to his lips, causing you to break the heavy eye contact.

“I just didn’t want to stick out, that’s all. It’d be weird if I came in normal clothes.” Mumbling, you notice the way Sunghoon lets go of your waist with one hand, only to interlock it with yours. 

“So if you didn’t come here to party, why’d you come?” He asks, and all of a sudden the spinning is starting to make you a little dizzy.

You gaze up at him with round eyes, knowing full well that he’s aware of why you came here. You hate the fact that he’s forcing you to say it out loud—to come to terms with your emotions that you absolutely despise right now. Your life could be so much easier if you really did have feelings for Sunghoon (despite the fact that Chaeryoung likes him too, maybe that would have been a bit messy) because showing up to a loud, rowdy place like this for a boy who absolutely hates your guts is just too complicated for your heart to handle.

Liking Sunghoon would have been easier, and even though you’re dancing in his arms right now, you’re still choosing Jungwon.

“I need to tell him.”

“About the motorbike or about your feelings?” 

You gulp, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I already told him about the bike. So now I need to apologise.”

“He’s hurt you, Y/N, really bad. I don’t get why you picked him.” His face is stern, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth.

Slowly, you let go of Sunghoon’s hand, and take his other off your waist. Looking up at him, you offer him a heartfelt smile before resting your hands on his chest. You take in a deep breath before looking up at him directly and say, “Neither do I.”

And like the two of you are some characters ripped out of the pages of a novel, you break away from each other, time slowing down as you walk away from him. Seeing Chaeryoung latch onto him while you walk backwards puts you at ease a little, you hope he sees the charm in your friend, you really do. 

You’ve been searching for Jungwon for around ten minutes now, and you figure he’s left since you can’t go too far in a house, can you? You end up proving yourself wrong, however, when you walk into the upstairs balcony and spot him staring into the view. 

Quietly, you lean against the balcony beside him, keeping your eyes on him in case he makes an indication that he wants you to leave.

With his gaze locked onto the city, not even sparing you a glance, Jungwon sighs deeply. “What are you doing here?”

“I just needed some fresh air,” You lie, unable to muster up the courage to explain the real reason.

“Okay, well, I think you’ve breathed in enough and you can leave now.” He mutters through jarred teeth. He looks just as angry as the day you told him about the motorbike, the steam still whistling at the top of his head. His jaw is shut tight, making his jawline look sharp enough to stab you with, and his eyes are doing their own damage to the sky with how narrow he’s piercing them.

Turning to face him, you instinctively reach out your hand to hold his arm, “Jungwon, I’m sor-”

Of course he recoils his arm away and of course he gives you a disgusted look. It’s only natural—you kind of deserve this. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His tone flicks a switch inside of you unknowingly as you retort, “I was just apologising?”

“No, you don’t get to apologise,” He points at you with one hand, his other leaning against the balcony frame. His brows are lowered and his tongue is occasionally poking the inside of his cheek. “You broke my..you broke my bike.” His voice breaks, and you notice the way his bottom lip quivers. “My bike. Do you know…do you know how many memories me and my parents made in Thailand? My dad taught me how to ride it, and my mum sat at the back of it while I drove on the beach and..” He sniffles, bringing up his hand to wipe at his eyes before turning away from you. “And then out of all people you ended up helping me fix it. You’re messed up, that’s-that’s not normal.” He mutters, in between quick and raspy breaths.

Watching the scene unfold in front of you, your eyes begin to tear up, too. You made Jungwon cry again. That’s twice. That’s one more than he’s done. Just when you thought you brought the old Jungwon back you broke him again. Seeing his shoulders shudder as he cries quietly into his hands has you clutching onto your chest tightly in hopes you don’t break, too.

“I’m sorry..” You whisper.

“You don’t get to say that!” He repeats, shouting into his hands. 

“But, I mean it,” you say a little louder, wiping away the tears that managed to slip out to keep your voice as still as possible.

Hastily, Jungwon turns back around, “No, you don’t get to say that because..” The dark haired boy brings down his hands to reveal his face. You’ve never seen him like this; eyes soaked and his nose red and swollen. “Because it should be me. And that’s why I’m so mad.”

“It should be you? Apologising?” You ask, unconsciously inching towards him, unaware of how close your bodies are.

His eyes wander around your face for a little while before he sucks in a deep breath, “Yeah, whatever.” Sniffling, he turns his head back to the view of the city. “Obviously, you only did that because of me.”

“No, Jungwon, that was something personal to you. I-I went too far.”

Taking you by surprise, he groans into his hand loudly before looking back at you again. “You didn’t know that it was personal!” He yells, forcing you to jerk your head back a little with wide eyes. “You didn’t know that because we don’t know each other! We don’t-!” His chest heaves laboriously as his brown eyes bore deep into yours. “We’ve known each other for so long, longer than Heeseung or Jongseong or..Sunghoon.” He mumbles the last part, his lips forming into a pout. 

“Yet we don’t know anything about each other?” You finish off his sentence, making sure to keep eye contact this time, because now is the time to let it all out. Now is the time for the two of you to confront the stupid situation you’ve trapped yourselves in for years. “I know,” You whisper, before pursing your lips, trying not to spill out every thought running through your mind right now.

You spot the way the shape of Jungwon’s eyes change from slitting to more rounded. They’re large and round at the front but pull out at the sides, similar to those of a cat. For some reason, his eyes are comforting. 

“Yeah..” He lets out a shaky breath. “All I know is that you’re this girl that lives across the street that has the most perfect life.”

You scoff, “Well, if you call bad grades and single-”

“You have parents that hug you every morning when you leave the house for school. You have friends that will stick by you even when you ask them to do something as stupid as break your neighbour’s bike.” You both chuckle at that bit. “You’re just.. I’ve always wanted to have that. Sometimes I think of what it would be like if I switched places with you.”

Naturally, you respond with, “Well, if you had to deal with a certain someone that makes you hate leaving your house everyday, I don’t think you’d want to be me.” You laugh at your joke, before noticing the way Jungwon’s face drops. Shit—he’s the certain someone. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like-”

“No you did. That’s why you broke my bike.” He says firmly, and the urge to look away pushes through and you turn your head away from him. 

You should know by now to always expect the unexpected when it comes from Jungwon. Because the next thing you hear is a muffled snort followed by a soft laughter. Looking back at him, you’re perplexed. Was this a joke? Was this all just another prank? Does he really have no feelings? Are the police waiting at the bottom of the house to lock you away for years? 

Jungwon breaks into an even louder laughter when he sees your expression, resting his elbows on the balcony rail and burying his head into his hands to try and quieten himself down. “I’m sorry,” he giggles, shaking his head, “It’s just.. I was such an asshole to you. My bike getting broken was just karma if you think about it.”

“Are you saying you deserve it?” You ask doubtfully, scared you’re dipping into hot water.

“It feels like it. I couldn’t stop thinking about how shocked you were when I was being nice for once. Like, I was really that bad, huh?”

You join in on his laughter, “We shouldn’t be laughing about this.” You say, before taking another look at Jungwon and bursting into another fit of giggles with him at the same time.

This is weird. Your arms are bumping against each other, you’re laughing so much your cheeks and throat are sore, and you can’t stop gazing into Jungwon’s eyes as you both smile with each other. You know. You’ve known since Sunghoon told you that you think about Jungwon way more than you should. You’ve known since the first time your legs touched each other accidentally that day you were fixing his bike. You’ve known since the time you watched him happily munch away on your mum’s kimbap. 

You know exactly why your heart is racing right now. Racing for the idiot you’ve been hating since you were eleven years old. Racing for your so-called-enemy of six years. Racing for the guy that just laughed about how badly he’s treated you. You’re so dumb, catching feelings for someone like Jungwon. Your cheeks should not be burning right now. He’s just Jungwon, you try to remind yourself.

Buried deep in your thoughts, you didn’t even realise the two of you have stopped laughing. It’s only now that you notice Jungwon’s eyes flickering between yours and your lips, and that he’s steadily leaning towards you. If your heart was racing before, it’s sprinting down a freaking marathon now. You stay still, waiting to see (or feel) whatever happens next. You’re too scared to initiate anything in case you freak the boy out and he backs away. Because what reason would he have to lean in right now? What reason would he have to like you back?

What reason would Yang Jungwon have to kiss you?

All of your questions fly out of the window as soon as his lips latch onto yours softly. Letting out a little gasp, although you were already expecting this, your hand flies to the balcony rail immediately. This is your first kiss. You always expected it to be more romantic; on a date with a guy in the park, or under a sakura tree at school. You never thought you’d kiss someone a few minutes after watching them cry their eyes out.

His lips are soft, though, so you close your eyes to feel them more. A hand reaches the back of your head as he tilts his head, a shaky breath blowing into yours. You can’t help but smile into the kiss, giggling at how inexperienced you both are. You both pull away, and you’re a little disappointed at the lack of..well..kissing there was. You’re pretty sure your lips are actually supposed to move in a kiss. So, pulling on every string of courage you have, you place your hands on either side of his shoulders and pull Jungwon in for a second round. This time, you tilt your head and open your lips a little, your stomach filling with butterflies when Jungwon lets out a sigh of relief against you. His movements are gentle, and the tenderness of his small lips opening and closing within yours causes your head to spin a little. He’s a little too good at this, his thumbs rubbing circles on either side of your waist making you feel all mushy inside. 

You hate him. You hate how good he is at kissing even though it’s his first time.

Pulling away, you can’t help but cover your face. Jungwon giggles at you quietly, making your body heat up even more. You feel his hands clasp around your wrists as he pulls them away from your face, shoving his right in yours. You’ve never seen this expression on his face before. His cheeks are bright red and puffed out, his lips are a little puffy and his eyes are rounder than you’ve ever seen them before. A genuine, really pretty smile sits on his lips as he speaks up again.

“We cannot tell anyone about this.”

“Agreed.”

-

A/N | and that's a wrap! i'm ngl i dont really understand the hype for this fic i wish i did things a lot differently ahahah,, but u guys really enjoyed it and that's all that matters!

#jungwon x y/n #jungwon x reader #jungwon x you #jungwon x female reader #jungwon fanfic #jungwon fluff #jungwon angst #jungwon drabbles #jungwon scenarios #jungwon imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #yang jungwon x reader

[sungbeam]

nonidol!kim sunwoo x f!reader

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

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

▷ word count. 28.7k help TT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sunwoo’s phone: yes or no

tree rat: no

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He reddened. The crosswalk turned green.

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

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

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

EPISODE TWO: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY.

three months later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The notification… the tweet…

Oh no.

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

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

"How bad?" He asked.

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

"I'm—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dude," he said out loud to himself.

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

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

A guy could dream though, right?

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

Wednesday. Today was Wednesday.

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo?”

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

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

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

“Get scared easy?” You offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE THREE: HEART TO HEART

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yah! Nobody asked for specifics!"

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

Changmin snickered. "Chicken."

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

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

A guy could dream, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anonymous: yeah fs haha

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

"Oh! Yeah, haha, sorry about that—”

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh oh,” Sunwoo joked.

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

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

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

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

“But!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anon: yeah nothing really serious lol

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he a dance major?”

rhapsody anon: he is

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

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

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

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

Oh, right. Sunwoo bit his lip.

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

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

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

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

“Even you?”

rhapsody anonymous: esp me

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

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

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

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

“Someone just needs to tell Ouyang to chill!”

“Uh-huh.”

“For sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Us.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my gosh, Yn?”

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

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

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

Wonder what that was all about…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a true story,” he insisted.

“Oh, I believe you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What'd you say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leaned in. "Yeah, I remember."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

sunwoo’s phone: YAH!!! OH MY GOD STFU

eric 🤨: no.

EPISODE FIVE: LOTS OF THINGS BLOOM IN SPRING

“SO her name is DJ Dove?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hiding that you know it’s her.”

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Civility is overrated!"

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

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

You. Oh my god, you were here.

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

"Sunwoo, hey—oh!"

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

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

Fuck. He hadn't thought this one through.

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

Pretty…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE SIX: AND THE MUSES ARE OFF!

"IT'S not a date!"

"It's a date!"

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

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

"Hey!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He caught your smile from the corner of his eye.

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you know the lyrics?"

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

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

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

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

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

A smile bloomed on your face. "Excellent."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For what?"

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

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

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

"Ah." You could empathize.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed. "Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

YOU had been keeping a secret.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This might sound weird—"

"Uh-huh."

"—but are you Rhapsody Anonymous?"

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

“No, not really.”

“What’s a podcast?”

You huffed. “Sunwoo—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sat up. “What do you—”

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

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

“You’re not an idiot.”

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

“Superstar?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(He should not have spoken so soon.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sunwoo, I can't—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE EIGHT: SWERVE LIKE A CHICKEN

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

han !!: okay bye chicken

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

han !!: 🐓🐓🐓

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

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

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

"That's actually so incorrect—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think so, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Still?"

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

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

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

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

Eric cooed. “Aw, you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

Coffee. You liked coffee, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"—wait, Yangyang—"

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo pressed himself against the wall he was peering around.

Oh.

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

Disappointment—yeah, that was disappointment.

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

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

It rang twice. "Yo."

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

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

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

"I'm coming over."

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

EPISODE NINE: [YELLS.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo looked up.

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

It was stupid. Yeah… it was stupid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made him feel strange again.

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo promptly smacked Eric's hand away.

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

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

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

Changmin scratched behind his ear and grabbed sauce trays from the end of the table to pass down to everyone else. "That was before she started hanging out with you some more. What is your point?"

They all made excellent points, he thought. That afternoon he'd seen you and Yangyang, he'd gone to meet Changmin in one of the dance practice rooms. After that, he'd gone home to yell into his pillow until his throat burned. Eric had muttered something about Sunwoo being dramatic and summoned JC!Yn over to the apartment to deal with him.

Sunwoo had just been bummed. He didn't even know if bummed was a strong enough word.

"I'm just scared of getting hurt, I guess," he finally admitted, meekly.

The table quieted to allow him room to speak his mind, and even Chanhee put his phone away to give him his full attention now. It wasn't often Sunwoo wore his heart on his sleeve like this, and it wasn't easy either. For anyone. Admitting to his fears in the middle of a Chinese restaurant while five of one's friends listened in was intimidating, but it was comforting to know that these friends he kept would find a way to support him. Even if he was being stupid, their tough love was out of desire to look out for him.

When he was done, Changmin clasped a warm hand on his shoulder and his dimple pressed into his cheek. "Sunwoo-yah, I think that you second guess yourself too much and you know that. You're self aware enough to know that you make the mistake of not going for what or who you want."

Sunwoo stared at an impurity in the table. What Changmin was saying hit the nail on the head—it was what happened with the dance showcase, too, and now he was about to let it ruin a friendship he had with a person he cared very much about.

"My advice," Changmin continued, "is to talk to her about what you saw and clarify it. I know it's… I know it's scary thinking you're gonna get hurt again, but I think you'll feel a lot better afterward."

EPISODE TEN: SUPERSTAR, I'M NOT TOO FAR

your phone: hey thanks for the fnf discount last night! sorry i didn't thank u properly before, but yeah, really appreciate it :')

sunshine (sunwoo): it was no problem, dw abt it!

your phone: btw is everything okay? u seem a bit distant lately and i wanted to make sure u were doing alright

sunshine (sunwoo): ah yeah, im sorry :( there's just been some things on my mind

You shot Sunwoo a quick text back to let him know you were here if he wanted anyone to talk to. His text had just come in after you'd sent him a reply in the early evening.

"Yn-ah. Still on your phone, I see?"

You jolted and shoved your device into the pocket of your jeans, smiling sheepishly as Lee Jihoon power-walked into the backstage area with a pen behind his ear and a clipboard in hand. "Hi, Jihoon!" You squeaked.

He lifted his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to come follow him. Since everyone was back from Spring Break, the work for the play being performed was kicked into high gear. Jihoon was a graduate student at the university and a director of the stage here; adding the fact that he majored in the same thing you did also made him one of your favorite mentors ever. The back hallways were bustling with costumes, props and other assorted technicians while most of the actors were either in the main backstage area or onstage proper with the play director, HJ!Yn.

You followed swiftly after him and weaved through the people littered about the corridors. "I finished synching the panel back here with the projector in the box," you told him, "though, it's weird that it was ever undone in the first place." You frowned. There had been a lot of strange things happening in the theater lately.

Jihoon gave you a curt nod and set you up in front of one of the house lights panels located in the hallway leading right out to the audience. He pointed at it with the back of his pen. "Yeah, some funky shit's been happening around here," he sighed. "You were here the other night when the speakers were acting weird, right?"

You nodded and let him guide you through navigating this backup panel. "I was. You and Chan seemed really stressed."

"We were," he said, adjusting his cap. "We really do need some more funding to update our equipment—careful, that knob is really sensitive. Good, nice work."

Once you and Jihoon had successfully finished with this panel, you lingered in the hallway for a moment. Normally, you would switch back and forth between shadowing either Chan or Jihoon, and tonight was with the latter. He was going through a couple forms on his clipboard—he must have been reading through them while working tonight.

"You seem distracted tonight, Yn-ie," he said. "Is everything okay?"

Despite being one of the busiest and hardest workers here, Jihoon was also one of the most observant, still. You leaned against the wall next to him, toeing at the floor. "Boys are stupid, right?"

Without hesitation or looking up from his clipboard, he replied, "As a boy, I can confirm."

That made you sputter out a laugh, and you saw him glance up and flash you a smile. When you couldn't find something else to say, he went forth. "I don't know the whole situation, and you don't have to tell me anything. But we guys are a little—" he made a gesture with his hands and wrinkled his nose, "—blind. You probably know that already, but dudes are dumbasses, and sometimes when feelings get in the way, they want to run for the hills.

"But if you think he's worth it, then reach out and be forward with him. And if he cares about you, he'll reach out and be honest," he finished. He let you settle with that thought, let it marinate in your brain to give you something to think about. (As if you didn't have a lot to think about already.)

You pressed your lips together with a slow nod. "Thanks Jihoon."

"Anytime, Yn-ie." He nodded back toward the direction you both had come from. "Let's go back that way, yeah? We've got some more housekeeping to take care of."

— ✶

Sunwoo was in trouble.

"...I thought I'd recommend a song that's been on my mind. I've actually been listening to quite a few Taylor Swift songs recently, especially since she's re-recording all her albums! So here's 'Superstar' from Fearless, Taylor's Version."

He had put your most recent podcast episode on full volume while he made himself dinner. It had been a long day today, and so his automatic thought was to listen to you. But now that he was getting into the meat of the episode, he was quickly coming to realize how much trouble he was in. You were playing the song, and it was a direct call out to him to wake the fuck up.

As the song faded to a close, your voice came back on.

"Actually, I was recommended the song by someone I know," you said in the mellow tone you'd been in for the entire episode so far. "I guess I'm just confused and I was wondering if they really meant what they said."

Sunwoo nearly dropped the egg in his hand onto the kitchen floor. Guilt swirled around in the bubbles of the soup in the pot and he frowned down at the rich, creamy liquid.

He sighed, tapping the egg against the counter and cracking its innards into the pot. "Of course, I really meant it," he said as if you could hear him. He wished he had the guts to tell you everything that was going on in his head… As his soup boiled away, he leaned against the empty counter to wait, cradling his head in his hands, groaning. "You're being unfair, Sunwoo."

"...This one's from Peony! They say: almost didn't realize Rhaps Anon wasn't in the last episode until the very end when we hadn't gotten a rec from them. Hope they're doing okay!" Ah, so you weren't the only one who noticed his brief absence. Your sigh filled the apartment, though, he heard the way you tried to force some kind of cheeriness into it. "Yeah, I hope they're doing okay too. But Rhaps'll be back! Let's all wish them well. Fighting!—"

Oh, man. Now he felt even worse.

He really needed to talk to you. Oh god, he really needed to talk to you. If not to confess, then to clear the air and assure you that all was okay on his end. He was just being a coward, and he knew that well enough now.

When his dinner had finished, Sunwoo turned the flame off and headed for his phone on the opposite counter. He lowered the volume as he went in and pulled up his text thread with you.

sunwoo's phone: hey,, i know ur probs busy w the play this week, but is there a possibility for me to see you sometime soon? i wanted to talk to u abt something

He gnawed on his bottom lip as he awaited your answer, until he realized you were probably working. That made him drop his phone and return to his dinner—maybe he just needed to not look, so his anxiety wasn't so high—

His phone buzzed and he bolted back over.

superstar 💫: i think i'll prob have some time saturday morning

EPISODE ELEVEN: [SOMEONE'S LOOKING OUT FOR YOU, LOSERS.]

YOU asked Sunwoo if he'd like to tag along with you as you did some grocery shopping before rehearsal on Saturday morning. His answer had been automatic, and you both agreed to meet each other at the bus stop to ride down to the larger supermarket down the hill together. Even as you stood at the corner of your street waiting for him beneath the overhang, you were trying to come up with possible things he was going to say to you. You had figured, when he’d texted you Wednesday night, that perhaps the best way to go about this would be to make this casual. Hence, why you were forcing yourself to go grocery shopping a day earlier than you usually did.

Casual, in this case, called for “you don’t have stare me in the eyes the entire time,” and to be frank, you were a little too nervous for that kind of setting anyway.

You tugged the edges of your cardigan over you as you heard your name being called from the opposing street. Sunwoo was bounding his way over to you with his arm raised in greeting. You returned the gesture with a soft smile. “Hey.”

He stopped by you, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gray jacket. “Hi,” he said, licking his lips. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

The bus slowed to a halt in front of your stop, and the two of you retrieved your transportation cards to board. “You say that like I wouldn’t have agreed,” you chuckled and tapped your card, Sunwoo following suit.

The two of you managed to find a pair of empty seats near the second half of the vehicle where the exit was for an easy departure when you reached the foot of the hill. But for now, you tucked your bag onto your lap and settled into the window seat, while Sunwoo occupied the one next to you.

You turned your head to gaze out the window and watch the world blur by as you did. The Avenue streets were a tad narrower than most around the university, so the bus traveled as efficiently as it could from stop to stop before turning the block to make its descent. It was technically still morning, and though it was spring, the sky had decided to blanket the sunshine with gray clouds to form an atmosphere that reminded you distinctly of the past winter quarter. Except, instead of thin, empty branches, the streets and walkways were encased in darkening green leaves and falling pink petals, a nod to the short-lived cherry blossom season. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo’s foot start to tap against the ground like Thumper the Rabbit, and you wondered for the millionth time what was going on in that pretty head of his.

“I don’t really understand,” you found yourself saying—his head swiveled—and you turned to look at him, “did I do something wrong?”

Sunwoo stammered, "What? No, it wasn't you! It wasn't your fault at all—I was just—" he sighed, grimacing to himself. "I was just being stupid. And I know that sounds super vague, but the short answer is that I was being stupid and scared and insecure."

Your brows furrowed and you felt the bus come to a gentle stop at the foot of the hill. "Scared and insecure? What's going on; is everything okay?"

You both got up to make a quick exit off the bus and began making the short walk from the bus station into the outdoor shopping center.

There was a jittery bounce to Sunwoo's steps as well as a tension in his shoulders. "Last week," he began, "Jisung told me that he'd just left you at the practice room and that you were probably going to be there awhile."

You nodded, grabbing a basket at the front of the grocery store. That rang a bell for sure. It had been a very long day in the practice room, so you weren't quite sure what direction this was going in yet.

"Well, I wanted to go surprise you and come hang out with you. You know, like, to keep you company." He started scouring the opposite shelf to you in the dried foods aisle, his eyes nervously darting from the BUY ONE, GET ONE pasta noodles deal signs, to your person. "And when I got there, I saw you and Yangyang."

Me and Yangyang…? Oh, me and Yangyang.

It was like a lightbulb went off in your head, and you stopped pretending to look at the overpriced vermicelli noodles on the shelf behind you.

"And you guys were hugging and close and stuff—and by all means! I—I have no problem with that, of course," he added quickly, "I mean, you guys are really close… friends? And I just saw him lean toward you and left because I… I got the message." The latter portion was delivered in a defeated tone as he looked on toward you helplessly and sorrowfully. It was how Sieun described you Tuesday night when you'd seen Sunwoo at the restaurant: a sad sap.

You both stopped moving down the aisle to face each other. In the white, fluorescent supermarket lights, his hair hung in his eyes like his head in embarrassment. You were going to let him finish.

He cupped the back of his head, suddenly feeling so bare before you despite not being physically naked at all. "I thought some space might distinguish or extinguish my feelings for you," he continued, nose wrinkling and lip curling in a wince. "Clearly it didn't help, and I think overall, I realized I wasn't being fair to you—as a friend. And that I was also being the biggest fucking loser ever."

Wait, you were still reeling from the mentions about feelings—

Before you could even address the aforementioned, you had to make something clear first. You felt the corners of your lips lift. "Sunwoo, me and Yangyang really are just friends." At the confused, puppy-dog look in his eyes, you explained further, "That day, Yangyang came by and I made it clear to him that I just saw him as a friend. I felt really awful for feeling like I'd led him on and was going to lose his friendship."

Sunwoo's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and he struggled to come up with the response he wanted. "So… so when he was leaning in toward you…"

"He leaned in and flicked my nose, then almost gave me a nosebleed," you chuckled. You'd given him a very appropriate flick to the forehead after that.

His eyes widened at that. "Well shit. Are you okay?" He asked, and you saw his smile slowly begin to make its appearance, the sun peeking through an overcast sky.

"Yeah, perfectly fine," you dismissed with a flick of your hand. "Especially now. But yeah, we're just friends."

There was a surge of relief in his tense shoulders. "Oh, okay."

He trailed after you as you continued to make your way down this aisle in particular to pick up the things that were on your shopping list.

At one point, he coughed, handing you the jar of red peppers you were reaching for. "So no hard feelings, right? I promise it will be totally back to normal!"

"Normal, as in back to before?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah! To be honest, Dovey, I was just kind of scared that I had lost my chance after waiting so long. I don't know. And I realized that I was just scared to face that fact."

You gauged his reaction and your own heart thundered in your chest. "Scared to face the fact that you'd lost your chance with me?"

"Well, yeah. I—" He stopped and froze like a deer in headlights. And in any other circumstance, you would have been laughing, but he seemed so distraught by what he just admitted to that you tried hard to suppress your amusement. Tried. "I just said that aloud, huh."

Nodding, you grinned fondly. "You did."

He smiled, cute and flustered, cheeks tinted pink. "You're always too easy a person to talk to," he muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I would've said something sooner…" He began.

Something jumped to attention in your brain. Oh no. "Was I giving you mixed signals?" You pursed your lips like you'd just gotten into something sour. "'Cause I swore I thought my attraction to you was clear. And, like, the thing where I totally began rethinking my thoughts about Yangyang when you came into the picture—"

"Wow, so Changmin was right?" Sunwoo made a face, holding his hand against his forehead. "That's crazy."

"Crazy good or…?"

He chuckled, and you couldn't help but admire the twinkle in his eyes as he did. "Crazy so good."

"I don't think people actually say that."

He whined, "Yah, you can't already be clowning me. Not when I just confessed that I like you."

That made you sober up, but you couldn't say the same for your heart rate. Man, your BPM alone could probably power a bullet train… "I like you, too. I hope that's clear."

There you two stood in the middle of the dried foods aisle with twin smiles glowing on your faces, soft and shared. You didn't know what the BOGO pasta was doing, but it was definitely adding to the atmosphere. You had intended for running errands to distract you from whatever Sunwoo had wanted to talk to you about, but clearly that was not the case—it would have never worked like that. You would be damned to have missed something like this. Not with him.

Perhaps he had made a mistake—he was now apologizing and clarifying and trying. You could hear Jihoon's words of wisdom ring loud and clear in your head. There was something perfectly fine about how this turned out.

"No more mixed signals?"

"No more mixed signals," he agreed.

— ✶

The remainder of your errand run with Sunwoo had gone smoothly, and soon, you were both seated side by side once more on the bus up to the University District. Sunwoo had gotten a couple things for his fridge, too, and so you both sat with your grocery bags by each other and your fingers grazing the other. Ever since you had clarified your position with Sunwoo a little over an hour ago, you had been feeling much lighter, your heart skipping for a different reason. You were back to feeling the giddy excitement you always had around him, and especially since you knew he saw you in exactly the same way.

The two of you shared a laugh as you stepped off the bus and onto your block, grocery bags in hand.

“—I’m being completely serious! Apparently I was just snot-nosed wailing into her shirt about being single and forever alone,” Sunwoo guffawed, grinning wide at you as you both stopped to the side of the walkway. “And Eric was pissed, oh my god.”

“I mean, you just kiss-blocked him; kind of understandable,” you mused.

Sunwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Aye, I know. He’s a good guy though. Total loser, but a good loser. He made me hangover soup the next day.”

You let out a laugh, walking slowly with him down toward the entrance of your apartment complex. "That was sweet of him."

He snorted, "A little out of character, but yeah."

"You know," you piped up, "when I was applying and eventually interviewing for the position with Chan and Jihoon, I had no idea what either of them looked like. So I accidentally—woah, shi—"

Somebody coming down the sidewalk toward you crashed into your shoulder and sent you careening toward the sidewalk. Sunwoo swore as you let out a squeak—his arm looping around your waist and hauling you against him to steady you.

He lifted his head in the direction of the person with a glower on his face. "Hey! Dude, watch where you're going!"

"Thanks," you said sheepishly.

He turned to fix you with a smile, and you saw the moment he realized the position you were both in: you pressed firmly up against the side of his body, his arm wrapped around you, your faces so close to one another… He released his hold on you, neck burning as he cupped the back of it. "Heh, yeah. It's no problem. People should just really watch where they're going."

You coughed and nodded your head. "Yeah, for sure."

The pair of you were now in front of your apartment complex once more, reluctant to say goodbye. You wondered if he would ask to spend more time with you, but you had a feeling that he wouldn't want to intrude on your time any longer. It wasn't like he was intruding to you, but it was just a feeling you had about him. He wanted to respect your time.

And, well, you both had groceries to put away.

"So I'll uh, talk to you soon then?" You asked him, holding your grocery bags in front of you.

He peered at you through his lashes. "Definitely."

"This morning turned out way better than I thought it would, to be honest."

"Yeah no, same here," he echoed. "I'm just glad you actually gave me another chance."

You reached over and gave his shoulder a playful punch. "How could I not? I've always believed in you."

That seemed to ignite something inside of him. He jutted his bottom lip out and whined, "Oh my god, you can't just say that! You're so—wah."

You giggled, watching him squirm like he was being jolted by electricity. "Hey man, sometimes you've gotta be straightforward."

"Yeah, I know." He sobered slightly and took a step forward. Your heart clambered around in your chest and rattled your ribcage. There was this look in his eyes that made you glance at his lips—his perfect, plush, pink lips.

You held still, held your whole fucking breath, as he turned his head and kissed your cheek. It was feather-light, barely there, and yet, all the heat in your body seemed to rush to that single spot in a millisecond.

When he pulled away, his voice was soft. "How's that for straightforward?"

EPISODE TWELVE: ONE LOVE SONG CAN'T CONVEY HOW I FEEL FOR YOU, SO HERE'S TWENTY—

SUNWOO imagined that he looked as cartoonish as any man in love could. There had to be hearts in eyes, hearts around his head, hearts on a glittery pink trail that carried him everywhere he went. He giggled to himself as he fished his house keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door to let himself in.

"Oh my god. We've properly lost him."

With a loud, war-like AHHH!, Sunwoo yelped and nearly dropped his groceries, struggling to hold the bags to his chest as he pressed himself against the back of the front door. His apartment filled with high-pitched cackles of delight.

Though his heart was going through about a million cartwheels a second, he managed to force the fear from his eyes as embarrassment flooded his system. He flared his nostrils, frowning and tipping his head against the door. "I hate you guys!"

"You should hate Eric for giving JC!Yn your apartment key," Changmin wheezed, slapping his hands together and rolling around on the living room carpet as he pointed and laughed at Sunwoo's absolute misery. "You should've seen your face!"

Chanhee was on the couch with his legs curled up into his chest as he had his phone out, recording the entire thing. "This one's going in the drunk Sunwoo folder."

"Yah, I'm not even drunk!"

Chanhee shrugged. "It's become your general meme folder now. We should probably rename it."

Sunwoo whipped his head toward JC!Yn, who was seated on the opposite end of the couch with an amused smile on her face. "Noona! Are you just gonna let them bully me like this?"

Her smile widened. "Sorry, Sunwoo, but we didn't think you would miss us completely when you came in."

He let out a loud groan, fragging himself over to the kitchen so he could set the grocery bags on the counter and begin to unload them. "What're you guys doing here anyways? Isn't it Saturday morning? Where's Kei?" He asked, unloading a carton of juice from the bag and slotting it into the fridge.

Kei was JC!Yn's roommate, and the two girls always went on a grocery shopping date every Saturday morning with Changmin and Chanhee. They often made Changmin drive since he had the biggest car, and grocery shopping was an exclusive event that only the four of them were allowed to partake in. Eric, Sunwoo, and even Jacob had expressed distaste at that elitism. One of these days, they were bound to let someone else join… right?

But regardless, that always meant that Saturday mornings were occupied for them. So why were three-quarters of the group currently invading Sunwoo's apartment?

Changmin sat up from his place on the floor and fixed Sunwoo with a grin that made him nervous. "We dropped her off at their place, and we did go shopping this morning, but you'll never guess the curious thing we witnessed while we were there." His giggles sent a doom-like shiver down Sunwoo's spine.

Then it clicked.

Sunwoo abruptly stopped taking dried noodle packages out of the grocery bag. "You're kidding."

A snort from Chanhee. "Oh, you wish."

Sunwoo bashed his head against his sweater-covered palms. "No."

"Yes!" Changmin shrieked.

"I didn't know you guys went to that supermarket!" Sunwoo wailed, throwing his head back toward the ceiling. "You guys saw us?"

JC!Yn rested her chin against her arm as she leaned over the back of the couch to face him. "We heard you, too. I'm glad you decided to own up to your chicken-ness. See? Wasn't so scary after all."

Well, he couldn't exactly agree with that. But he also couldn't disagree with it. He'd been so scared he was about to lose your friendship then for being so insecure for no reason. A simple clarifying question could have saved the both of you so much strife. But the conversation also reaped rewards: your mutual confessions.

He sulked and didn't say anything.

"It was cute though, Sunwoo-ah," said Chanhee with a teasing lilt to his smile.

"And also," Changmin cut in, "what do you mean 'so Changmin was right? That's crazy?!'"

Sunwoo snorted. "Now that, I have nothing to say to."

"So what's the deal now?" JC!Yn asked. "Are you two dating now or…?"

Oh. Another long pause, then— "Oh my god, you didn't ask her out?"

"Hey! Listen!" Sunwoo yelled in an attempt to defend himself.

"We're listening." Chanhee folded his arms over his chest with a less than impressed look on his face. He scoffed. "I can't believe you pull."

"Shut up!"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet—how can he pull?" Changmin quipped back with frenzied gesticulations.

Sunwoo groaned as he flopped over the counter. He couldn't believe he was having such a good morning, and now he was being berated once more for his stupidity. How could he not ask you out? It was right there! The opportunity had presented itself a multitude of times, and yet, why was he still here, dateless?

Then there came the thought of how to go about this. There was a part of him who thought that just asking you was probably fine. But the other part remembered how much he liked you—so texting was simply not an option. It had to have some pizzazz, a bit of oomph, to it.

"We can see the gears turning in your head, Sunwoo," said JC!Yn. "What's on your mind, bub?"

Sunwoo looked up from where he had smattered himself onto the kitchen counter like a pancake. "I have no rizz."

Chanhee coughed. "Well, that's not news."

Sunwoo sent him a scowl. "How should I ask her out? I kind of want it to be special, you know?"

"Hmm." JC!Yn pursed her lips, tapping her chin in thought. "The other day, I was talking to Sangyeon about music or something or other, and he showed me the playlist he'd made his girlfriend—"

"His fake girlfriend," Changmin corrected with a little smirk.

She rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Lee Sangyeon is not sad enough to make fake playlists for his fake girlfriend." It was a known inside joke amongst the friend group that Sangyeon had a "secret girlfriend" stashed away somewhere. A few of them liked to joke that she either didn't actually exist or that he kept her locked in his laundry machine or something. Mostly, though, they just wanted to know if he actually was single or not. What was the point of keeping her a secret anyway?

The slight change in victim brought Sunwoo's mood up. "What about the playlist, noona?"

She blinked, turning her attention back to her original train of thought. "Oh, right. What if you made her one of those cute, romantic playlists?"

The four of them exchanged glances with one another. It was a silent form of communication, one that had one uniform thought running through the wire.

— ✶

You'd received a text from Sunwoo about thirty minutes ago asking if he could stop by your apartment to drop off something of yours. Apparently, in the madness of the checkout aisle at the grocery store, he had accidentally "stolen" one of your cans of chicken noodle soup.

You hadn't bought chicken noodle soup though.

This was why you now anxiously awaited his arrival for the real reason he wanted to stop by. You had literally just seen him about an hour or two ago, but you'd be lying if you said you were happy at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. Your cheek still seared from his kiss.

As if he could read your thoughts, you heard a loud series of knocks at the door.

"Coming!" You called, hustling over from your living space area and over to the door.

After peeking through the peephole, you definitely saw Sunwoo, but what he was holding was nowhere near the likeness of a can of chicken noodle soup.

In a hurry, you ripped the door open, lips parted at the bundle of bright colored blooms in his hands. Sunflowers and carnations and lilies and roses—

He peered out sheepishly from behind the bouquet with his other hand occupied by his open phone. "Hi," he peeped.

"Hey," you exhaled, a grin fighting its way onto your face.

"If I made you a playlist, would you go out with me?"

You blinked, heartbeat rocketing into high gear. "Sunwoo," you started with a disbelieving laugh, "you don't have to—"

His thumb lowered onto a button on his phone. "Whoopsies, already did it."

Right on cue, you heard your phone buzz from your pocket. Curious, you withdrew it and opened the text message from him with a link to a Spotify playlist entitled: "One love song can't convey how I feel for you, so here's twenty."

You could have melted into a puddle of ooey-gooey goodness. "Sunwoo," you lamented, smiling way too wide now.

He beamed back at you. "What do you say?"

You shook your head, throwing your arms around him as he laughed and hugged you back. "You're so cute. Yes, I'll go out with you."

He gave you a little, warm squeeze. "Oh, thank god. I thought I was gonna die from anticipation."

You laughed and smiled into his shoulder. When you pulled away, your hand gently reached for the side of his face. "What if I kissed you right now?"

His eyes widened a smidge. "What if you wha--"

You cut him off and pressed your lips to his briefly, then pulled back.

"Wait, wait. Come back here," he murmured, chasing after you and crushing his mouth against yours. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect. The feel of his lips, the smell of his cologne, the firmness of his shoulders beneath your grip and the perfect pressure as you both sealed the deal with a kiss.

The two of you pulled away at the same time with labored breaths, foreheads meshed together as you caught your breath.

"You're not gonna turn this into a podcast episode, are you?" He asked, voice low and raspy, yet laced in a playful tonic.

You teased him right back. "As long as it doesn't end poorly."

He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations of his laugh against your lips. "Then I guess I'll just have to make it the best date ever."

"Don't worry," you said with a cheeky hand on his chest, "I believe in you."

With a laugh, he grazed his lips over yours again. "Thanks, superstar."

a/n: hihi!! thanks so much for reading <3 if you enjoyed, i would deeply appreciate a comment, reblog, or an ask to tell me what u thought about it! much love, onto kevin's !!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @hibernatinghamster @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @kflixnet

#kflixnet #bjnet #deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #kim sunwoo x reader #sunwoo x reader #the boyz drabble #the boyz oneshot #the boyz fluff #the boyz scenario #the boyz imagines #kim sunwoo scenarios #kim sunwoo drabbles #kim sunwoo oneshots #kim sunwoo imagines #kim sunwoo fluff #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo drabbles #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo oneshots

[tatorthots]

— get you

featured: college!Eren x afab!reader x college!Levi, Mikasa Ackerman, Sasha Braus, Louise (canon Yeagerist)

cw: modern!au, slight fluff if you really squint, suggestive content, minors dni, toxic dynamics, possessiveness, cursing

synopsis: the life of a college student is already hard enough as it is with classes, homework, and lectures so why not add a complicated love triangle as well?

a/n: this is a repost !! I’ve written this before but decided to go back and re-edit it :) to everyone who’s read this before I hope you all enjoy this improved version!

Eren fucking Yeager.

The college campus’ fuckboy and the literal bane of your existence.

Eren has been the thorn in your side since you were both assigned dorm mates at the beginning of your junior year of college. Sure, you’ve heard of the infamous name he set out for himself as the ruthless ‘Attack Titan’ in your school's football team, and you were fully aware of his cold and narcissistic personality but hey, who were you to judge a book by its reviews, right? So you made the mistake of ever being kind to him when you first introduced yourself only to be met by desolate green eyes and a scoff. Not to mention he had the audacity to give you ‘house rules’ which basically summarized to cleaning the dorm and staying out of his way. No, Eren almost never spared you small talk or even pretended to tolerate your mere existence. Why? Who fucking knows. Honestly, you firmly believed the brunette was born with a vendetta against you — every day striving and scheming to better his tactics in making your life miserable like some ripoff supervillain. But worst of all is the fact he seemed to make a habit of following you around campus like some lost puppy. You’d think someone who supposedly hates you would do anything to keep themselves away, right? Wrong. He thrived off bickering, insulting, and annoying you at any chance he got. Weirdly enough, no matter how many times you prayed someone would approach you to give you reason to ditch him, everyone always seemed to particularly steer clear from you when he was with you. Almost as if they were too afraid to even look your way, let alone talk to you. But I guess that could all be chalked up to Erens possessive behavior; his sinister stare and malicious intent were ever present anytime anyone dared get close to you. Not that you would know though, no, you were far too busy rolling your eyes and thinking of witty comebacks or insults. Unknowingly, making it easier to keep you all to himself.

Silly girl.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The echo of a blunt object clamoring to the floor abruptly stirred you from your peaceful slumber as the sound of it rolling on the hardwood floor rattled through the cramped dorm. Sitting up from your resting position you outwardly groaned as you rubbed the sleep off your eyes, “What the hell?” you sighed. Snatching your phone from its charging port you checked the time, squinting your eyes at the sudden brightness, “5:06 a.m?” Huffing in annoyance your jaw clenched as you glared at the door, already starting bright and early this morning huh you asshole, throwing your legs off the bed you groggily made your way out your bedroom door. Fuming at the fact you were forced to wake up so early after pulling an all-nighter studying last night; which, by the way, was already hard to do with Eren and his friends cluttering around the living room all night.

“What do you think you’re doi—“ your voice came to a complete halt when your eyes landed on an opened package and your recently delivered figurine displaced out of its box and lying on the floor. And to add insult to injury there stood Erens number one psycho of a fan, Louise. Giggling to herself as she kicked what would’ve been your most prized possession away from her. “What.. what are you doing…?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your eyes remained focused on your figurine. The same figurine you excitedly pre-ordered a year ago. You couldn’t even afford to eat for a month afterward because of how much you spent on it and now there it was being kicked around by some desperate pest? So balling your hands into fists you marched over and shoved Louise aside to see the damage she had caused. But your anger only ignited when you saw your favorite character's weapon broken in half and their stand shattered to pieces. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethed as you bent down to sorrowfully try to connect the shattered pieces together. You were tired. So tired of this. Carefully tightening your hold on the broken pieces; you hated how you felt like you could cry from frustration. “Oops~” was all Louise bothered herself to say in response to her crime. Quietly, almost too calmly, you spoke, “… What did you just say?” “I said ‘oops’,” she cheekily replied, “besides, it’s not my fault you leave around boxes for anyone to touch.” Resting her hand on her hip she smirked down at you, “If you really cared so much about your little dolls then you shouldn’t have been so irresponsible~ heh, hope you learned your lesson.”

Standing up from your crouched position, you side-eyed Louise with a piercing, almost eerily, hyper-focused glare. This is it, you thought before clenching your fists and raising your arm, intent on actually beating her until your knuckles ached. But before you could swing, you felt a cautious grip on your wrist and a firm hold on your hip. Everything moved so fast, you didn’t even get to acknowledge the fingertips that slid up to the hem of your latex shorts before you found yourself spun and placed behind Eren. Staring up at him you blinked a few times. “Don’t get so heated.” He spat, with a disinterest in his tone almost mocking your apprehensive reaction, “She’s my guest.” He cocked his head at you with a sarcastic smile, and god did your eye twitch. It made your stomach churn and skin crawl knowing what he meant by that, and it… hurt. Shaking your thoughts, you swat his hands off of you, and scowled at the man towering over you, daring to defend the rat responsible for all of this. Dryly you scoffed, “She’s just another fuck-buddy you bring in here ren.” Crossing your arms together you continued your jeering, “You make a mess wherever you go and you even have the audacity to drag in trash? Tch. Please.” But, oh how naive you are to not notice. The glint of amusement reflecting off Erens emerald eyes just from the venom in your tone; it makes his dick twitch. He shifts a little uncomfortably trying to ease himself before exasperatedly sighing. “Well dove,” he begins as he starts to circle around you, “maybe if you weren’t such a self-righteous prude I wouldn’t have to bring girls in here…” stopping right in front of you he leaned down to reach eye-level, his taunting gaze only inches away from you as he lowly growled out, “I could just fuck you instead.”

Truth be told, Eren knew he was full of it — straight up lying through his teeth every time he told you he didn’t want you. In reality, the man was absolutely obsessed with you and anyone with eyes could see it, everyone except you. But unfortunately, Eren isn’t the type to admit his feelings so freely, let alone submit to his emotions. No, he was too prideful for that. Don’t be too harsh on him though, I mean, the idiot hasn’t even figured out himself what it is he feels for you. It could be part of the reason why he’s so particularly hostile with you, and why he’s equally possessive. Not to mention that Eren has been the object of many’s affection since he could remember; as in he’s never not had what he did or didn’t want. He learned early on that personality and sincerity isn’t anything more than currency in this world, and he abides by that principle. So to have someone like you, who’s breathtakingly mesmerizing, compassionate, intelligent, interesting, funny, and well, you, is completely left field for this playboy. You’re everything he thought wasn’t possible. You contradict his entire worldview of people. How could he not resent you — or fall for you all the same? He hates it.

However, as of now, all you know is that you’re fed up with this situation. Pushing past them to grab your keys and hoodie, you turned around and stormed through the front door. Did you know where you were going? Not a clue. But you sure as hell aren’t going to be anywhere near here. Anywhere near him. Walking out the door you heard Louise’s cackling laugh practically grating your ears and it only made your blood simmer further as you slammed the door behind you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I’ve told you to speak to the Dean and ask for another dorm mate,” sighing as she stirred her coffee with a spoon, her dark eyes flickered up at you, “I’m sure if you explain your situation to him he’ll be more likely to accept your proposal.” Anxiously combing your hair back, you groaned at your best friend's advice, “Mikasa don’t you think I’ve already tried that?” Dramatically throwing your arms on the diner's table, you buried your face in your arms, “The Dean only has a strict appointment-based schedule,” with a pout you lift your head up slightly, “and the waiting list spans for the next four months!” Tucking your head back to sulk, Mikasa hummed in acknowledgment, but that’s when your other friend spoke up. “Then why don’t you try talking to his assistant?” Snapping your head up, you stare questioningly at Sasha as she shoved another beignet in her mouth, “Yeah but —mmph — what’s his name again?” “Levi.” Mikasa chimed in, “Levi Ackerman.” Levi Ackerman..?, you thought, Why does that name sound so familiar? But you didn’t get long to think about it before Sasha excitedly shouted out, “Yes—! Levi!” Putting her fork down she rubbed her chin in contemplation, “Huh, I heard he’s kind of a total jerk though, and everyone who’s ever met up with him spirals into some sort of existential crisis…” Mikasa kicked Sasha from under the table as she nodded in your direction, “O-oh! But um.. I mean how bad could he be, right?” Trying to nervously wave off what she said, Sasha patted you on the head, “You’ll be fine, y/n!”

I’ll be fine? Groaning again, you leaned your cheek on your hand as you looked at the people chatting or studying at their tables. “Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice..” which to an extent is true. You either continue to put up with Eren until you eventually get an appointment with the Dean, or you talk to Levi Ackerman and hope you don’t spiral. That name though…, you pondered, Why do I know it? Smearing around the egg yolk on your avocado toast you glanced up at your friends. “Hey, why does that Levi name sound so familiar? Do we know him or something?” “Yes and no.” Sasha answered, “You’ve heard his name before because he’s that super mysterious senior everyone’s afraid of.” “He’s been the leader of the Honors Society since he was a sophomore, and he’s top-ranking academically in the country.” Mikasa added. Thinking to yourself you finally remembered, “Oh! That’s right!” You triumphantly chirped until it dawned on you what you remembered. Noticing the dread in your eyes Sasha laughed, “Mhm, you definitely look like you remember now~” “He’s that academic thug…” sinking into your chair you genuinely began to wonder who you crossed in your past life to deserve this, I probably helped commit genocide or something…, “Yeah, he’s gotten into a few fights but it’s always settled within reason.” “Pft, c’mon Mikasa, the schools probably too scared to punish its most valuable student.” Sasha snorted. “Hm. You might have a point, but it’s usually ruffians who feel they have something to prove that challenge him,” Mikasa pointed out, “He also hangs around his small clique. I think, our seniors like Petra, Eld, Gunther, Olou, and Hange.” “See y/n! How bad could he be if he hangs out with them?” Sighing, you smiled at your two closest friends and their attempt at making you feel better. “Yeah, you guys are right,” finishing your latte, you beamed down at them, “I’m gonna kick today's ass!”

After the three of you waved your goodbyes, you set off to go find the very man you only hear of through quiet whispers. Honestly, with all the mystery shrouding him you really started to believe he was some sort of urban legend the school came up with. Kind of like ‘if you don’t do your homework, Levi Ackerman will show up in your closet’ type of thing, you know? With an exasperated sigh, you look down at your clothes. Great. I’m about to meet the guy who’s also known for his ocd in a jujutsu keisen hoodie, spandex shorts, and crocs.. Sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck, you stared up at the birds flying above you, I wish I could live freely like them… Longingly looking up, you snap out of your thoughts as you approached the administrative office. Well, I promised Sasha and Mikasa I’d do this so.. here I go. Stepping into the front office you began your unexpected hour-and-a-half-long journey being sent practically all across campus in search of this Levi guy. You went from office to office, met up with more people than you’ve probably spoken to in the last two weeks, and wasted time waiting around for people who ended up either not knowing where he is or sending you back across campus. Until finally you made it to the science research facility building where you tiredly dragged yourself toward the receptionist’s desk. “Please..” you heaved, “Please tell me… *gasp of air* tell me Levi Ackerman is in this building!” Your eyes pleaded at the poor, spooked old lady as she stared at you. “Oh honey, please have a seat!” She scurried next to you and guided you to sit down, “He’s tucked away in the computer lab right now, let me go notify him!” Grabbing her arm, you peered into her eyes, “He’s here?” “Y-yes!” Nervously laughing, she placed her hand on top of yours, “You know what? How about you come with me. He’ll most likely decline your visit if I notify him.” And with that, you made your final trudge with the old lady you managed to scare into personally leading you to Levi.

“Alrighty sweetheart, this is him.” Pointing toward a large door, the receptionist politely smiled at you before hurrying back to her desk and leaving you all alone. Glancing at the wooden door, you suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Okay… I um.. I made it this far, right? You tried to reassure yourself but the longer you stared at the door, the more your imagination ran rampant. What if he’s big and terrifying looking? You imagined a tall, ogre-looking man, Or what if he’s a total creep? Then some balding guy who resembled a mole. If ren were here I wouldn’t feel so intimid—huh? Ren? Shuddering at your thoughts, you took a deep inhale, Alright, clearly the longer I stand here the more I’m beginning to lose it, so with a little pep-talk you figured you might as well rip the bandaid. Twisting the handle, you carefully pushed open the door and peeked inside. The entire room was almost the size of an entire lecture hall but filled with neat rows of computers. Wow… you thought as you opened the door further to step inside. Looking around the room in amazement, you immediately stopped in your tracks when you noticed a figure sitting at the front of the room reading a textbook with notebooks and papers stacked on the table. That must be him. Clearing your throat you decided to call out to him, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Levi Ackerman,” slowly walking up to him you tried to fill in the silence, “I’m assuming that’s you, right?” Closing in on the table he sat at, you managed to make out a head of black hair and.. and him drinking tea? Quirking a brow at the full tea set he had displayed, you spoke up again, “My names y/n. I wanted to talk to you about an issue I have and I was told you cou—“ “Get lost.” H-huh..? Did I mishear him? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you but I—“ “If you don’t intend to offend me then go bother somebody else. I’m busy.” His voice was deep and monotone, clearly uninterested in what you had to say by the way he didn’t even bother to acknowledge your presence.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you knitted your brows in irritation. Of course. Gritting your teeth, you strode right up to him and slammed your hand down on the desk, “You’re a tough guy to find, you know that?” You chuckled dryly, “Did you also know I spent the last two hours running around campus trying to find you? So no, I’m not leaving until you at least listen to what I have to say.” Setting his tea down, the raven-haired man finally turned to look at you, “Is that so?” He questioned, though it was clear the question was more rhetorical than genuine. With a long sigh, he swiveled his chair to completely face you; and then that’s when you flinched in surprise as you scanned him. He’s hot… you thought, Oh god, he’s hot..!? The man in question had inky black hair styled in an undercut, a complimentary choice when paired with his delicate yet sharp features. This definitely wasn’t what you expected. Even the dark circles under his eyes look good… A light blush began to creep up on your cheeks as you realized the commotion you just made in front of someone like him. All the while you stared in a flustered daze, Levi was languidly trailing his eyes across your body. Resting his head on his hand, he couldn’t deny he liked the sudden surprise presented to him. Huh.. he mused. “Well? What’s so damn important?” Straightening up at the sound of his voice, you smoothed out the wrinkles on your hoodie, “Oh! Yes, of course.. I’d like to propose a change of dorm mates.” Staring at him, the intensity in his eyes only worked to captivate you to him, “My… my roommate isn’t working out, and no matter what I try to do to civilize the situation it just doesn’t work out..” you ended, almost disappointingly. Levi hummed as he listened before standing up from his chair. “Is that what’s got you so worked up?” But something about his tone made you think he might’ve been referring to something else. “Why not go to the Dean?” He inquired as he slowly approached you, and you subconsciously took a few steps back until the back of your thighs hit a table behind you and you almost fell sitting on it. “The Dean has appointments booked all through the semester and since the matter is urgent I figured I’d reach out to his personal assistant.” The fact you managed to jumble that out without stuttering was a blessing in itself. “I see.” Narrowing his eyes on you he continued, “Then I guess I have no choice but to agree if it’s so urgent.” Blinking a few times you took a moment to process his words, Is he agreeing to help me? “Meet me later this evening to discuss the details,” his expression remained unchanged but you caught glimpse of the glimmer in his silver eyes as he stared at you, “I assume 7 works for you?” “7..?” You muttered, “Ah, yes, of course!” “Great. I’ll escort you then. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he closed in on your body and reached an arm past your waist, his lips inches away from your ear as he leaned in, “I have other matters to attend to.” Your body stiffened and your breath hitched until he pulled back with a notebook in his hand. He was.. just reaching for his notebook..? Nodding your head in agreement you politely excused yourself and raced out of the room with a bright blush searing your skin as he watched slightly amused at your disappearing figure.

After exiting the computer lab, you stood there for a few seconds in a flustered haze. What the hell just happened? Brushing your fingertips across your cheek you tried to ease away the warmth on them. Heh, I’ve gotta tell Sasha and Mikasa about this! You giddily thought as you whipped out your phone and started typing in the group chat. And after a morning of lectures and labs without your backpack, you finally made it back to your dorm. Heaving a sigh, you slung yourself on the couch and peeked your eye to where your broken figurine last lay. It’s gone… You figured Eren must’ve thrown it away along with the rest of the trash before leaving for his afternoon classes. Grabbing a pillow you covered your face and screamed into the fabric before sitting up and punching it a few times in frustration. “Fuck—!” You loudly groaned out. Why does he have to be that way? Scrunching your face, you massaged the bridge of your nose to calm down, He’s a dick to everyone, sure, but why does he target me so much? Even after… Throwing the pillow to the other side of the couch you hastily stood up and checked the time. Whatever, you bitterly thought, it’ll all be over soon enough. So you brushed off the thought and jumped in the shower to get ready for tonight’s occasion.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Rushing around your room, you turned your phone on to see 6:43 p.m. glaring at you. No, no, nononono—! Hissing in annoyance at your time management, you hurriedly slipped on a long, slit, silk skirt over your sheer tights. “Okay, alright, almooost done!” Grunting as you put on a pair of platform boots, you stood up and admired yourself in the mirror. “Heh,” you chuckled, “Elegant and fashionable with a touch of promiscuous.” After pulling a quick jojo pose in the mirror, you adjusted your open back top and strut through your bedroom door with an excited smile. But your smile immediately turned into a grimace when you caught sight of Eren and Louise lounging on the couch. Fucking bitch.. you internally sneered as you scrunched your nose in distaste. “Self-respect… and that goes for the both of them.” You mumbled under your breath. Forget it. Rummaging around the kitchen, you tried looking for your hand purse until an agitated voice called out to you.

“Shocked you’re not tryna run around empty-handed again since you had no problem with it this morning,” you could already see his irked frown, “and yeah I heard you’ve been taking a tour through campus by the way.” Roiling your eyes, you heard him shift as you clipped on your earrings, “I looked for you in the library to bring you your bag since apparently, you need everything done for y—“ widening his eyes, Erens jaw slacked as he eyed you. “…. fuck” he lowly muttered. He knew you were fine, he gets mesmerized by your beauty every day, but damn. Your leg peeking out of the silk fabric slit, and the way it’s tight fit complimented the curve of your ass was just too much for him. His mildew gaze trailed up to your open back top and he almost groaned at the slightest tease of side-boob. And just as he almost folded, he snapped out of it when he realized you were going out dressed like that. “Wait, where the fuck are you going?”

But Eren knew that wasn’t what he was really asking. No, what you wore never bothered him, in fact, he loved when you got all dolled up; let others look because he can fight — and he has, for you. What Eren was really asking was ‘Where the fuck are you going without me?’ ‘Who are you meeting?’ ‘Do you like them?’ ‘Would you forget me?’ Those were the real questions bouncing around in his head.

“Doesn’t matter.” Was all you replied, but the grip those two words had on him were like a vice. Leaning down to adjust your ankle bracelet, his eyes darted to the way your back subtly arched. He could already feel the tent growing in his pants, but he couldn’t be bothered to do something to hide it when all he could think about was how pretty you’d look stuffed full of him. He was desperate to touch you, feel you, claim you — just as desperate as he was to be owned by you, in every way, any way you’d allow him to be yours. Maybe you were just too dense for your own good. He tried his damndest to keep his composure as best as he could but his voice gave it away, “It’s a fucking date.” He snarled, low and threateningly. You glanced over at him, confused and infuriated at his audacity to interrogate you about where you were going or who you were meeting. “Doesn’t. Matter.” Both of you locked eyes as an intensity conflicted within his irises and a rage burned within yours. Scoffing, you turned on your heels, grabbed your purse, and walked toward the front door. Eren wanted to stand up and stop you, he wanted to do something anything but the pulsing ache in his pants kept him rooted to the couch. “Tell me who it is.” He demanded, and you finally reached your breaking point. Clenching your fists you turned your head and glared at Eren, “Hah. You’re really something, huh?” You condescendingly seethed, “You always bring in random girls in here almost every night and you have the fucking audacity to question me?” Reaching for the handle, you pushed open the door, “Don’t forget your place, Eren.” And his eyes widened at the use of his name, “And I won’t forget mine.” Slamming the door behind you, he felt his heart ache at the way your voice wavered when you said those last words. He wanted to argue, tell you that you’re wrong, that he’d do anything for you but he couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the door and lose himself in his thoughts.

Through the halls, you bitterly made your way outside the dormitory. Who the hell does he think he is? Roughly opening doors, you fumed, Acting like he owns me. Hah! If I didn’t know better I’d even think he cares about me. Bursting open the front doors of the dorm entrance you marched outside and hastily walked out of the dormitory district, What does he want from me? Seriously, I don’t understand him at all! You clutched your purse as you trembled with anger, He’s so confusing, ugh! He does things for me that make me feel special but then he… but then he acts like that! Like.. like Eren and I d— bumping into somebody, you stumbled back. Huh? Looking up you were surprised to see,

“Levi?”

“The hells wrong with you?” Steadying you with a hand around your arm, you didn’t realize he had grabbed you to keep you from falling, “Do you normally walk around like you’re ready to slice someone’s head off?” He asked, and you looked away in embarrassment, “.. sorry.” “Clearly whoever you’re so damn angry with should be the one apologizing,” letting go of your arm he sardonically added, “or it’s their funeral.” Covering your mouth, you laughed at his words, and his attention focused on the sound. Pretty.. he thought. Easing from your laughter, you looked up at him with a cheery smile, “Thank you for going out of your way to wait for me, I’m sorry I’m a little late.” “Yeah.. don’t-um..,” clearing his throat, Levi averted his gaze from yours, “Don’t worry about it.” Blinking at him, you stood admiring the way the luminescent streetlights illuminated his clear skin, “We should get going.” Interrupting your daze, you tilted your head in curiosity, Hm? Oh, that’s right, “Where are we going?” Checking his watch, his sharp eyes flickered up at you, “There’s a cafe I frequent often,” walking next to you, he placed his hand on the small of your back to guide you next to him and away from the street, “It’s a little hidden but they have a good atmosphere.” His gaze drifted to you and carefully took in the sight of you, “I hope it’s to your taste.” Glancing at him your eyes sparked with excitement, “A hidden cafe? I love checking out new coffee shops to study in! I’m looking forward to potentially adding another shop to my list!” Levi watched as you buzzed with enthusiasm. He was a little apprehensive about inviting you out to a small cafe, not knowing if it’d be something you’d enjoy, so to see you react so excitedly he sighed in relief. Seems this little venture might actually be worth its while. Unbeknownst to you, Levi did do a little background check on you through his student access — perk of being the Deans assistant — and he was pleasantly surprised to see all the achievements and participation activities you had under your belt. Most students don’t bother to do more than get through classes and do solely what’s asked of them as students. So his interest most definitely peaked when he quickly scanned through your transcript. Charming, fierce, intelligent, and beautiful. Lucky me.. he mused.

Like this fic? Consider reblogging, interacting, and commenting! It’s always appreciated!! ᰔᩚ

#jay writes ! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆ #aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot angst #aot fluff #aot smut #aot imagines #attack on Titan x reader

[naughtyneganjdm]

Returning Home For The Holidays

Summary: When you return to your hometown for the holidays after getting a divorce, you run into your old friend Negan who makes your Christmas better than any you've had before.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52520974

Warnings: Christmas themes, fluff, small amount of smut (not very detailed), second person reader, etc.

Notes: I wrote this really quick because I wanted to write something small for Christmas. This is a shortened version of the second Christmas story that I wanted to write, but never got the time to. So, I hope you enjoy it!

Warmth flooded your veins while you sat in front of the fireplace on Christmas Eve. What you thought was going to be one of the hardest Christmases of your life surprisingly became one of the best yet. The year started off horribly for you when you found your husband Shane cheating on you. Shane had never been much of a husband, but the two of you had a daughter together that was eight years old. Everything was very hard for your daughter because she loved her father very much, but, unfortunately, Shane was never much of a father either.

Once you found out about his affairs and requested a divorce, Shane made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with his family in the first place. You had originally moved with Shane for work, so when everything happened you moved back to your small hometown in Virginia. Your first day back was stressful enough. Your daughter Daisy was upset that her father didn’t want to be around her for Christmas and didn’t understand why she had to leave everything she knew to move somewhere completely new. On top of that, your car had broken down your first day back in the middle of a massive snowstorm before you could even get to your family’s place.

What felt like the worst luck ended up being some of your best luck. The person who came to give you a tow was Negan Smith. Someone that had been one of your best friends growing up. Unfortunately, in the last year or two of high school the two of you had grown apart. Back then, you didn’t understand it. But when you started thinking about it once you saw him again, you realized it was likely because of your relationship that you started with Shane. Shane was very possessive and didn’t like you being around other men, so that would have explained why you and Negan had lost contact.

When he had shown up, you were surprised to see that he had his own mechanics shop because you had heard he was the local high school’s gym teacher and coach. In fact, you had seen many articles about Negan in the past because of his teams winning so many championships. Knowing that he was able to do both the school job and he owned his own business was impressive. Especially after you had heard rumors about his wife passing away.

That night you had met Negan’s daughter Elizabeth who ended up being only a few months younger than Daisy and the girls hit it off immediately. They had started playing together while you waited for Negan to fix your car and after that they were inseparable. So after that day, you found yourself at Negan’s home more often than not because your daughter had now found a new best friend in the town that you had moved to. And what was once miserable for Daisy, was something she was really happy to find.

It was also nice for you to be able to spend some time with Negan. With it being Christmas, Negan was stepping up in places in terms of being a father toward Daisy that Shane never had done on the holiday before for her. And it was just natural for him to be like that since he was already doing it for Elizabeth himself. You didn’t even ask that of him either, he was just involving your daughter in everything on his own and it was something that awed you. You had more of a Christmas this year than you ever had with Shane.

Right now the girls were sitting with Negan painting both his fingernails and his toenails while they were all sitting in front of the fireplace. That was something Shane would never let his daughter do to him, so the fact that Negan was letting both girls do it had Daisy in giggles. It was very sweet while Negan interacted with them.

“Oh. Girls,” Negan blurt out, holding his hands up when they finished with their work on his nails. “This is beautiful. You did a great job. This is definitely my color.”

Holding his hands out, Negan let you see them and you felt a rush of color flooding in your cheeks. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips and you gave him a small nod, “Don’t you think these are my colors?”

“I do. I think the red and green are very festive. The green goes with your eyes,” you commented on the nail polish color causing Negan to snort when he looked down at his hands and feet.

“Your turn?” Daisy looked back at you with a big cheesy smile, her dimples warming your heart. It had been a long time since you had seen your daughter this happy.

“It’s only fair. The rest of us have them,” Elizabeth commented, throwing her hand up to show that she had matching nails with Negan and Daisy. “So you have to do it too.”

“Yeah Y/N, you just have to do it,” Negan explained with a smirk, adjusting his thick black framed glasses over his face. Seeing the smile that he gave you drew your heart to flutter inside of your chest and you smiled.

“Of course girls,” you held out your hands for the girls while they eagerly put you where they needed you to start painting your nails. “You know, after this Daisy we are probably going to have to head back to your grandparents home. We’ve been with Negan and Elizabeth all day. They probably want to get going to bed so that way Santa can make it to their house.”

“Oh, come on mom,” Daisy frowned, her head lifting up dramatically when she looked out at you with her big eyes. The pout she gave you showed that she wasn’t ready to leave. “Can’t we just spend the night here? It’s already late. We’re in our pajamas and it’s nice here.”

“But what about the gifts that Santa will be bringing you at your grandparents?” you reminded your daughter of the gifts that she would be getting, but it didn’t seem like that bothered her all that much. “I don’t know if Negan and Elizabeth would be okay with us staying here on Christmas.”

“Of course I would be okay with that!” Elizabeth boasted, her dimples prominent much like her father’s while Negan looked between all of you with his expressive eyebrows. “I love spending time with you and Daisy. I think dad likes it too.”

“Oh?” you looked to Negan and a tiny smirk tugged at his handsome features. With a simple shrug, Negan nodded his head hearing the girls begging soon after. “That’s up to Negan. Santa probably wont know you’re here though because we didn’t let him know ahead of time.”

“Oh, I think Santa will know. He’ll bring her a few things,” Negan declared, shocking you with that comment. Looking to him, you could see the way his jaw clenched and he nodded his head. “The rest of your stuff will be at your grandparents, but I think he might leave a few presents for you here.”

“Really?” Daisy seemed excited to hear that as they finished up with Y/N’s nails. “Does that mean that we can stay?”

“I’m okay with that,” Negan answered with the excitement from the girls following. “You two just have to make sure you go to bed tonight though. You don’t want to be up and scare off Santa. Do you?”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth answered her father, hopping up from the ground to run into her father’s arms. Her bear hug caused Negan to let out a happy sound and he peppered kisses against the side of her face. Negan stroked his fingers through Elizabeth’s blonde hair and his hazel eyes hooked with yours. “I promise we will be good. And in the morning, you can make us your special Christmas pancakes.”

“Special Christmas pancakes?” Daisy muttered with interest behind her eyes. “What’s that?”

“Daddy makes the best reindeer pancakes. It was something him and my mom started when I was younger,” Elizabeth explained to your daughter, her green eyes glistening amongst the lights that Negan had set up in his living room. “They’ve always been my favorite.”

“Oh! That sounds good,” Daisy almost bounced with excitement looking to you, reaching for your hands to squeeze over them. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

“It sounds great,” you agreed with your daughter, a weak smile expanding over your features. This was the first Christmas where Daisy looked forward to everything that was going on. “Why don’t you finish up your hot chocolate and then we can get the two of you to bed?”

“Okay,” Daisy eagerly got up from the floor and went to the kitchen where the mug Negan had gotten for her was to drink her hot chocolate. Elizabeth followed her to do the same and you looked to Negan.

“I’ll explain everything when they are in bed,” Negan whispered, reaching out to place his hand in over your knee to give it a firm squeeze. Getting up from the ground, Negan held his hand out to help you stand up from the ground. When he pulled you up, it had you stumbling in closer to his chest. Wrapping his arms loosely around you, Negan snickered and shook his head. “I know you’re falling for me, but this is ridiculous.”

“What?” you exhaled loudly, a tiny laugh falling from your throat. Negan’s right eyebrow arched up, his head tipping to the side while he gazed you over. With a smirk, he shook his head and released you, but you could tell that a warmth had flooded into your face.

He wasn’t wrong. How couldn’t you fall for Negan? After the way he immediately took on your daughter and how good he was with you, it would have been pretty damn hard NOT to fall in love with him. Instead of approaching the subject, Negan went over to the girls to talk to them.

“Alright girls,” Negan grunted, lowering down to wrap his arms around both of them carrying each one of them under his arms. Both girls started giggling while Negan carried them down the hallway toward Elizabeth’s room. Following them, you stopped to watch from the doorway as Negan put the two girls to bed, tucking them in. “Now no funny stuff. You know the deal about tonight. Santa is coming and we all need to go to bed or else he won’t show up.”

“You know, I was thinking,” Elizabeth began, her big eyes staring out at Negan when he reached out to brush his fingers through her hair. “Maybe Santa can make all of us a family this year. This is the first time we’ve been happy since mom passed away.”

“I’d love to have Elizabeth as my sister,” Daisy boasted, gazing out at you and it made a nervous laugh fall from your throat when Negan looked back at you. “And Negan would be great to have as a dad. “

“And you’d be a great mom,” Elizabeth noted causing you to walk into the room and kneel down beside Negan who was smiling. “What do you think?”

“You really like it here, don’t you?” you wondered eliciting an immediate nod and smile from Daisy’s lips.

“And we really love you here,” Negan piped in, his deep voice drawing a chill down your spine. “Elizabeth isn’t wrong. This is the nicest Christmas we’ve had since we lost Lucille. I know it’s been a rough move for both you and Daisy, but we’ve enjoyed having you around.”

“We’ll have to see then,” you noticed the way that Negan’s long eyelashes fluttered. “Santa is very capable of a lot of magic. So you never know what will happen.”

“Better get to sleep,” Negan instructed both of them. He leaned down to press a kiss over Elizabeth’s temple while you did the same with Daisy. “I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too daddy,” Elizabeth brushed her fingers down over the side of her father’s features. It was amazing to see how good of a father Negan turned out to be because you were so used to someone like Shane that you didn’t know if father’s like Negan were even something that were real.

“See you in the morning girls,” you stood up and followed Negan toward the door hearing the girls giggling when they whispered about things. “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight mommy,” Daisy called out with a big yawn while getting more comfortable in the bed. Negan turned the light off and closed the door leaving the two of you standing together in the hallway alone.

“Come here,” Negan reached for your hand which you happily accepted, enjoying the warmth his body radiated when he led you toward the kitchen. Motioning you to wait, Negan grabbed two glasses and headed for the fridge. Pulling out the eggnog, he poured some of it into the cups before digging around in another cabinet. When he revealed the bottle of brandy in his hands, you let out an amused sound. “I think the adults have been adulting long enough, don’t you?”

“Should Santa really be drinking on the job?” you inquired in a teasing fashion when he poured some of the alcohol into the eggnog.

“You’d be surprised the things Santa is capable of,” Negan returned both the alcohol and the eggnog to the places they belonged. Grabbing something to mix the drinks, Negan finished up and grabbed the glasses. Handing one to you, he stepped before you and offered up one of his cheesy big smiles. It made you laugh when you accepted the drink. “Are you okay being stuck here for the night?”

“Stuck?” you repeated the word with a huff, taking a sip of the drink he gave you. “Not exactly how I would explain how I feel about being here. I like it.”

“Yeah?” Negan slurred, his eyebrows bouncing up after he drank down some of his eggnog. “How would you explain it then?”

“Like home,” you whispered, seeing the expression in his features changing when you muttered those words. “I can’t explain it, but every time Daisy and I are here everything feels like it is meant to. I thought coming home would be miserable, but since the first day having you and Elizabeth show up in our lives has been one of the best things we could have asked for. You helped me with Daisy. She was so lost, but with you and your daughter, she’s happy. Happier than I ever saw her when we were with Shane. Christmas was not special back when we were with Shane. It was just another day, but with you? You’ve made it something amazing. And you’ve been so good to her. Better than Shane ever was. You can tell that she’s latched onto you.”

“Because she deserves nothing but the best, and so do you,” Negan reminded her with a sincerity behind his hazel eyes. “Which leads me to the whole Santa thing. I got Daisy some presents since she’s been here so much. I thought it would be nice for her to have some things.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you finished up with your drink, going over to place the glass in the sink. Negan finished off his drink and moved in beside you.

“I wanted to,” Negan responded, setting his glass next to yours and you turned to face him. There wasn’t much space between the two of you when you cleared your throat.

“Negan, I’m sorry,” you breathed out when you thought about your past together. Your comment made Negan’s head tip to the side and you frowned. “The two of us were so close when we were younger. And then Shane showed up in my life and I just ignored everything between us.”

“Oh,” Negan’s eyebrows bounced up, his hands pressing over the edge of the counter trapping you between his arms while he stared down at you. “It did suck a little bit back then. I was head over heels in love with you, you know that?”

“Really?” you stammered, noticing the way that Negan’s Adam’s apple bounced in his throat. “But what about Lucille?”

“Lucille showed up junior year when you had already ditched me. I don’t regret Lucille. I loved her so fucking much,” Negan claimed with a firm nod of his head, “but I do know that growing up, I always thought I was going to sweep you off your feet and marry you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you wondered, feeling your throat tightening up when you thought about your past together as teenagers.

“I’m a guy?” Negan shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head about. “When Shane showed up, I just assumed you were more so into football players than you were baseball or basketball players.”

“That wasn’t…I didn’t,” you stammered, finding your thoughts twisted up when Negan hushed you. “I’m so sorry. I wish I would have realized back then how things were because you are so…amazing.”

“Things happened for a reason,” Negan assured you, lifting his right hand to drag his fingers down over the side of your face. Sweeping his thumb over your jawline had a chill flooding down your spine with the warmth of his breath over your lips. “We have two beautiful girls and we would have never had them if we would have realized things sooner. You’re here now.”

“And you still feel the same way?” you inquired seeing the awe in Negan’s eyes when he softly chuckled and nodded his head. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Negan repeated, lowering down enough to capture your lips in a tender caress. It had you tipping up on your toes toward him with his other arm loosely wrapping around your waist. The taste of the eggnog and alcohol lingered on your lips, but you didn’t mind it. Leaning back, Negan’s eyelashes fluttered and charming smile expanded over his handsome features. “You are so beautiful. You know that?”

“So are you,” you circled your fingers over the area where the button was undone on Negan’s pajamas. It made both of you chuckled before Negan grabbed your hand to lead you back toward the living room. Watching with confusion, you saw Negan laying out a blanket before the fire on the floor. “What’s this?”

“Patience,” he responded with a huff, grabbing two of the pillows from the couch and setting them down on the floor. Urging you toward him, he lowered down onto his knees and you followed suit. Laying down on the floor beside the fire, you laid beside Negan cuddling next to him when you got comfortable. Pulling the other blanket he had in over the both of you, he sighed and nuzzled his nose in against your head. “What would you say if I said I want to have you in my life? Like, officially. Not like marriage, immediately. But like dating? I really like spending time with you and being with your daughter. I haven’t dated in a very long time, but I thought…”

Lifting your fingers up, you placed them over Negan’s lips to hear his words come to a halt, “I would say yes.”

A faint kiss was brushed against your fingers before you crawled in over Negan to bring your lips together in a tender sweep. Over and over again the two of you kissed before the fire, each kiss growing in strength.

“You think the girls are asleep?” Negan inquired, listening carefully with his lips parted showing that his breathing was heavy. After taking a minute, you nodded your head and Negan frowned. “Are you sure you want to be doing this with a man who has his nails painted?”

“That makes me want to do that all the more,” you reached for his hand to bring it up to your lips to pepper it with kisses. Snorting out, Negan curled his fingers around the back of your neck to lead you to him. Claiming your lips with his, he carefully rolled you over onto your back and crawled in over you. Plucking open the buttons on the shirt of his pajama shirt had him tremoring over you. Once you had the material separated, you caressed your hands up and over the lengths of his torso, teasing your fingers through the dark hair that covered his flesh. “Can you be quiet?”

“Of course,” Negan hummed, looking down when you dipped your fingers beneath the material of his pajama pants. With a groan, Negan’s eyes fluttered to a close when you wrapped your palm around his manhood, stroking over his flesh in unhurried strokes. “Can you be quiet?”

“Tonight I can be,” you tipped up to kiss over Negan’s jawline hearing him releasing a moan, his fingers dragging down over your sides. Bracing himself, Negan pulled apart the buttons of the pajama shirt you were wearing getting the material separated before getting to his knees. Hooking his fingers into the pajama pants and your panties, he set them beside you and moved in over you after pulling them down your legs. With Negan over you, the skin-to-skin contact felt amazing along with the warmth of the fireplace beside you and it made you tip your head back. Pushing your fingers into the back of Negan’s pants, you managed to get them down far enough seeing that his eyelids grew heavy with want while he stared down at you. Making sure the blankets were over the both of you, Negan got comfortable between your thighs and adjusted his body weight.

“Look at me,” Negan instructed, reaching down with his right hand leading himself to your body. With a soft roll of his hips, Negan was inside of you drawing your hips to arch up toward him. Taking his time to let you get used to him, Negan laid over you and stroked his fingers over the side of your face. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time.”

Taking his time, Negan started to thrust into you, his body’s movements unrushed while he wanted to focus on every part of you. Every so often, you would have to bring his lips to yours to keep you both from making a sound, but it was a romantic moment that one could only dream of having in a romance film. Every movement, every touch, every kiss was meticulous and passionate. It was something you weren’t used to, but you were loving every second of it.

This was a buildup of time and you found yourself thankful that you were able to find Negan again. Now that you were together again, you weren’t ready to separate from him. This was too good to be true, but this was real and you were going to cherish every second of it.

After everything was said and done, you laid with your head over Negan’s chest listening to the sound of his heart beating. Tracing shapes over Negan’s flesh, you couldn’t help but find happiness in this moment.

“I know we have to, but I never want to leave this place,” you declared hearing his raspy laugh follow. Negan pressed a kiss over your head before cuddling you in closer to him. “I love you Negan.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear that since I was eight years old,” Negan stated with a laugh drawing you to lift up to stare out at him. Sucking at his bottom lip, Negan nodded and let out a sigh. “I love you too. You’re the best Christmas present I’ve had in years.”

“And you won’t want to return me after Christmas?” you confirmed eliciting a groan from his lips and he rolled his eyes. “I’m just making sure.”

“No, I like this gift. Very much,” Negan assured you, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip and he couldn’t help but smile. “And I’m not going to give you up. You’re mine now. For good. As long as you’ll have me and my family.”

“I couldn’t think of something I want more,” you whispered, meeting his lips in another kiss. It made Negan bob his head about after you pulled away, his smile contagious. “We’re going to have to get moving soon so Santa can get the presents under that tree.”

“Santa can wait a little while longer,” Negan hushed, pulling you to him again. “I want to hold you for a little while longer. And then Santa can do whatever he wants.”  

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor​ @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams  @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny​ @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl @xsarcasticwriterx​ ​ @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost​ @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight  @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan

#Negan #Negan Fanfiction #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan x reader #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #negan smith #negan x you #negan imagine #Christmas

[imaginewoso]

Come Back...Be Here - Leah Williamson

i’m sorry i’ve been gone for so long. life makes an awful habit of getting in the way sometimes.

i was listening to Come Back...Be Here (Taylor’s Version) as one does and this kinda just happened. Flashbacks in italics. Hope you like it.  

Leah would tell anyone who asked that she was fine. She had captained the Lionesses to a European Championship, Arsenal was sitting comfortably at the top of the table, and she was on the cover of British GQ. Leah was fine, great even…until she saw you, camera in hand, looking as beautiful as you did the day she first met you; as beautiful as you did the day she fell in love with you; as beautiful as you did the day you left.

OR a post breakup meeting leaves Leah less than fine (though she’d be kidding herself to think she has been anything but broken since you got on that plane to New York).

“Hey, we’re here. You coming?” Keira asked, startling Leah out of her daze. When the blonde looked up, she noticed that the bus was empty save for her and her best friend, the rest of the Lionesses having begun to make their way toward the studio where their media day was being held.

“Oh, thanks mate. I didn’t realize,” the English captain responded, grabbing her bag and shuffling toward the exit. She exhaled deeply, bracing herself for the hectic day she could only imagine was awaiting her. She hated media days. Though hard to believe, she didn’t like taking photos- not anymore.

Leah was nearly out the bus door when she felt Keira grab her arm gently. The blonde defender turned around expecting to see the midfielder smirking at her, a quip about her spaced-out state at the tip of her tongue. Instead, Leah turned to find Keira with a concerned look on her face.

“Leah, are you okay?” she muttered, worry clear in her voice. This was not the first time Keira had spoken those words. The question had become a common pillar in their friendship over the last two years.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. Long day, you know. We should get out there, the others are probably waiting,” Leah affirmed before hastily making her way toward the studio doors and heading to the changing rooms to join her teammates. Keira followed closely behind but did not get far before smashing straight into the blonde captain’s back.

“Leah, what are you doing?” she asked. But the defender did not give a response. Instead, she stood frozen, gaze fixed on the group of photographers setting up in the distance.

Keira turned to see what her best friend was staring at and let out a gasp.

Before she could even think to turn toward the blonde, Leah bolted.

******

Leah was buzzing. Heading into the winter break with four straight wins and no goals conceded was exactly what Arsenal needed after the less than ideal start to the 2017 season.

The smile had not left the blonde’s face since the final whistle. It stayed with her all the way home, while she slept, and now, the following day, as she walked alone through the holiday market. She had a couple of days to herself to relax and recharge before the festivities with her family began and she was going to take full advantage of them.

Leah took in her surroundings as she walked. She was completely enraptured with the lights and music and the smell of hot chocolate wafting through the market. So much so that she didn’t notice you standing in front of her looking down at the camera in your hand. It was only when she bumped into you that she was taken out of her daze.

The blonde heard the quiet “ouch” before she even processed what had happened.

“Oh my god, are you--” Leah began but her breath caught in her throat when she looked down.

Sprawled out on the floor looking confused at what had just happened was the most beautiful woman Leah had ever seen. You looked up at the blonde, and then, with wide-eyes, down to your side where your very expensive camera lay upside down in the snow. You quickly picked it up, inspecting it to see if there were any cracks on the lens or screen. When you were satisfied that it wasn’t broken, you began to get up off the ground.

Leah finally snapped out of her trance and offered you her hand. Sparks shot up her arm, even through her mittens, when you grabbed on to pull yourself up. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, it’s just the market is my favourite place and I was staring at that hot cocoa cart and was trying to decide if I should get some and I --”

Your giggles cut off the nervous blonde’s rambling. “That’s alright, my fault. I shouldn’t have been looking down,” you replied sincerely.

The defender cleared her throat and looked at the camera. She rubbed the back of her neck nervously before she tentatively asked, “it’s not broken, is it?”

“Nah, it’s like I never dropped it, don’t worry about it,” you replied reassuringly, giving Leah a smile that had her absolutely melting despite the cold in the air.

“I’m Y/N,” you finally introduced yourself once you realized the blonde in front of you needed a little bit of a push.

“Y/N” the footballer whispered. When the blonde saw your eyebrows lift slightly, she realized she hadn’t introduced herself. “Leah” she blurted hastily; cheeks red from more than just the cold.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Leah. How about we go get you some of that hot cocoa that’s got you bumping into strangers, huh?” you teased before grabbing onto Leah’s arm and dragging her toward the cart.

******

It took Keira only ten minutes before she found her best friend, sitting in a broom closet, tears streaming down her face.

“What is she doing here? I was fine. I was doing more than fine. Thriving even,” Leah sputtered out in between sobs. Her hands covered her eyes as she tried to physically stop herself from crying.

“Leah, you weren’t fine,” Keira whispered, sitting on the floor beside her friend and throwing an arm around her back. “You haven’t been fine since she left.”

“I’ve been doing great. We, we won the fucking Euros for Christ sake,” she tried unsuccessfully to convince herself.

“Leah, I haven’t seen you genuinely smile in two years apart from when we won the Euros. And even then, you were holding back. It’s like you were looking for her in the crowd every chance you got, waiting for her to appear,” the midfielder said gently.

The blonde fell silent for a moment, taking in what Keira was saying. “God, I’m so pathetic, it’s been two years,” she sighed, finally admitting to herself and her best friend that she wasn’t fine.

“Oh mate, you’re not pathetic. We all saw how the two of you were together. I’ve never seen two people more in love. It’s normal to cry after seeing her for the first time since then,” Keira comforted, fixing the blonde’s out of place hairs.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” she whispered to her best friend. “I don’t know if can talk to her,” the blonde finished with a sigh.

“From the looks of it, she’s manning one of the stations so avoiding her doesn’t seem like it’s an option,” Keira said, squeezing one of Leah’s hands in comfort.

“What if I break down before I even say a word. Or worse, kiss her the second she looks into my eyes? Every scenario is a bad one,” Leah whined.

Keira giggled. “Yeah, maybe avoid the kissing right away, might throw her off. Though I do get the urge, she does look great,” the midfielder teased, earning a push to her chest and a glare from her friend— she always had been the jealous type when it came to you.

“She was your friend before you two dated, try to remember how you spoke to her then. Who knows, maybe this will be the closure you need, or the start of something new,” Keira mumbled the last part to herself as she stood up.

“Come on,” she offered a hand to the Lioness captain and pulled her up. “Let’s fix that makeup of yours, you look like a raccoon,” she joked, drawing a small smile from the blonde.

******

“This is so beautiful,” you heard Leah state softly as you got her a glass of water in the kitchen. The two of you hadn’t left one another’s side all that much since meeting but this was her first time in your apartment and she was admiring the artwork on your living room walls.

“Thank you,” you replied, putting her glass down before settling on the sofa, watching her admire a photograph of a busy London coffee shop.

“It’s like I’m sitting right there with them almost. I don’t know how to explain it, it’s like I can hear them chattering, and like I can smell the coffee they’re drinking,” she whispered in awe.

“Thanks. That’s what I was hoping for,” you smiled at her.

“You took this!?” She exclaimed, turning away from the frame and toward you for the first time since you entered the room.

“Yeah, it was part of my first year portfolio” you answered.

“Y/N it’s incredible, you’re incredible,” she gushed. You looked down, cheeks red from her compliment.

“You should open a gallery. Is that what photographers do? I’d come to your gallery,” she continued.

You cleared your throat and looked at her. “That’s the dream. Maybe one day,” you said wistfully.

“Can I see some of your other work maybe?” Leah asked tentatively, unsure if you two were at that point in your friendship yet.

“Absolutely,” you replied before pulling out a big book off your shelf which housed some of your photographs from your first two years in school. She flipped through each page, admiring every photo she came across.

“Think you can make me look that good?” She joked as she pointed to a photo of your best friend who had been your model for one of your assignments.

“Please, like you need me to help you look good,” you answered before you realized what you said. “Actually, I’ve got another project due soon and could use a model if you’re up for it,” you rushed out hoping to distract from your comment on her beauty.

“I’d love to be one of your models,” she said bashfully, smiling widely at you.

******

You stood at the back station, camera in hand. Leah took a deep breath and before she even realized what she was doing, her feet took her forward, Keira’s voice at the back of her mind. She was just gonna bite the bullet so they could move on with the day.

You were speaking to a couple of other photographers, seemingly giving out last minute instructions to the individuals who would be in charge of the other media stations — if the lanyards around their necks were any indication. She waited until you finished your speech and for the group to slowly disperse before she approached you. With your back toward her, she had a second to take a breath and prepare herself for the moment she had been waiting for for two years. She knew she didn’t have long though. You always did have a knack for feeling her before seeing her.

Just as expected, you stiffened slightly as she approached. You waited a beat, exhaling before you turned around. Your breath hitched the second your eyes met Leah’s. You knew you’d run into her at some point, it was inevitable, but you thought you’d have slightly more time to prepare yourself.

“Hi,” the blonde breathed out, eyes moving across your face, committing any differences she could find to her memory.

You had changed slightly since she last saw you. Your hair was touches lighter (you always did say you wanted to dye it), eyes a little dimmer (yet still her favourite shade of Y/E/C she had ever seen), but the small smile on your lips was just as beautiful as she remembered it.

“Hi,” you rasped back, doing the same thing, raking your eyes over her face before eventually down to her outfit. You couldn’t stop yourself from taking in the way her blue tracksuit fit (it always was your favourite colour on her, it brought out the blue in her eyes).

You realized what you were doing, and your eyes snapped back to her face. Any hope you had that she hadn’t noticed was gone the second you saw a tint of red covering her cheeks and a small smirk playing at her lips. Oops (you were only human).

“What, what are you doing here?” Leah stuttered after she finally recovered from having your eyes on her. She cursed herself for her delivery. Two years and that’s the best she could do. At least she wasn’t crying.

You lifted the camera in your hands and waved it around, “filling in for a friend. She had a last-minute emergency. I owed her a favour, so here I am.”

“Right, yeah, duh,” she replied. Of course, you were here for work, and nothing else. Her stomach churned as she wondered if the friend you were helping was just that and not someone more. It wasn’t any of her business though. Not anymore.

“I’d ask why you’re here but well, it wouldn’t be a Lioness media day without Captain Williamson, huh?” You teased. Leah’s heart fluttered. “It’s nice to see you, Leah,” you continued softly.

“It’s nice to see you too, Y/N,” she whispered. “How have you been, how is New York? The gallery?” she asked, swallowing loudly as soon as the question left her lips. It was still a sore spot.

“It’s lovely, everything I’ve dreamed of really. People seem to enjoy it,” you responded. Leah nodded with a small smile on her face. For as much as it hurt, she was glad to hear it from you that you had been doing well. She was well aware how successful your gallery in New York was (though she’d never admit it, too embarassed by the number of times she’d google your name when she couldn’t sleep at night, consumed by her heartbreak). “Of course they do, you’re the most talented photographer I know. Congratulations Y/N,” she replied.

“I think congratulations are in order for you too. Captaining your team to a Euros win at 25, Lee that is absolutely incredible.” Her heart fluttered once again, this time at the nickname she hadn’t heard in years (she nearly kicked a ball straight at Beth’s head the first and last time the forward called her that post your departure).

“Thank you, it’s been a pretty wild year. Sometimes it doesn’t feel real,” Leah responded, looking down at her feet shyly.

“I imagine. Euros, top of the table with Arsenal, GQ. Lots to celebrate,” you gushed before you could stop yourself. You never really could contain how proud you were of her during your relationship, that was unlikely to change.

Leah looked up, eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face. “You’re keeping up with my career?” she teased, finally gaining some of that confidence that you’d always loved, your words fuelling her. Maybe she wasn’t the only one doing the googling.

“Hard not to. I’ve been in London for two days and the Euros posters seem to be everywhere,” you feigned annoyance trying to brush passed your obvious slip up.  You were secretly proud that your voice hadn’t wavered (and revealed that you definitely had been keeping up with her career long before you arrived in your old hometown).

“And Arsenal?” she asked. Okay maybe you hadn’t been as convincing as you’d thought.

“My sister loves football, you know that. Texts me the table every Sunday.”

“And GQ?” she pushes, the smirk on her face growing.

“It’s my job, Leah. Magazine photoshoots are basically my homework,” you say, this time the lie clear as day.

Now her smile was wide. “And? What did you think? In your professional opinion, of course.”

“Stunning. They did a great job capturing your personality,” you replied earnestly after a beat.

“And your personal one?” she chanced, biting her lip the second she asked. She was definitely playing with fire but she never could help herself around you.

You paused, thinking of how to respond without revealing just how much the photoshoot had ruined you when it appeared on your feed.

“I thought you look—” but before she could finish, your familiar banter was cut off by a series of squeals.

In an instant, what felt like the entire Lionesses squad surrounded the two of you.

******

After a couple of weeks, Leah had finally convinced you to go to watch an Arsenal game. The two of you had been hanging out any time you were both free, but you hadn’t yet made your way to Meadow Park. Not for lack of trying but you were in your final year of school which meant putting together your portfolio took up most of your days.

“Who’s caught your eye, mate?” Beth asked Leah who seemed to be staring into the crowd every other minute while they warmed up.

“Huh? Oh nobody, just checking to see if Y/N found her seat okay that’s all,” Leah replied, once again looking at where you were meant to be seated.

“Your girlfriend finally came to watch us?” Beth gasped, taking at peak at where Leah kept glancing to try and get a look at the woman from the market that her friend had been telling them about for months.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Leah grumbled for what felt like hundredth time. You weren’t dating. You were just two friends who happened to talk every day and hangout all the time and hold hands (but only in a friend kind of way). And yeah, maybe sometimes she got butterflies when you looked at her, and she couldn’t get you off your mind, and really she only spoke about you so much because you were the most talented person she ever met. It was totally normal for friends to act like that (she justified to herself).

It was only once the game started that Leah spotted you in the crowd, her red Arsenal jersey adorning your body and a small camera around your neck. The blonde’s heart soared at the sight of you sitting in the reserved family section.

“Let’s go, Williamson,” Beth snapped Leah out of her trance and dragged her toward the huddle. “Concentrate, you want to impress your girl, don’t you?" she teased.

“She’s not my—” Leah started before being interrupted. “Yeah yeah, not your girl, sure sure. Regardless, let’s put on a good show for her, yeah?” Beth stated.

“Yeah.” And put on a show they did, beating Tottenham 5-0, Leah scoring a header in the second half which you could not shut up about the minute she exited the locker rooms.

“Oh my gosh, that was incredible, Lee. You were fantastic. You run so fast, and that header was perfect,” you gushed, pulling Leah into a hug which she was grateful for because that meant you couldn’t see her skin turn the same shade of red as the jersey you were wearing.

“Thank you,” she whispered into your neck before you heard someone clear their throat. When you separated, her teammates were beside you, eager to meet the woman who was taking up so much of their friend’s time.

“Y/N, nice to finally meet you. We thought Leah was making you up,” Beth said, clapping her hand on the blonde’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Leah has not shut up about you since you two met. It’s nice to put a face to the name,” Jordan revealed. “That is so not true,” the blonde muttered and looked down.

You looked at Leah and smiled before turning to the rest of the team and introducing yourself, saving her the embarassment and changing the subject (more for fear that they’d catch on to your obvious swooning).

******

“Y/N! What are doing in London?”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were gonna be our photographer?”

“Oh my gosh you finally dyed your hair.”

You were bombarded with a series of questions and did your best to answer all of them, happy to see the group of women in front of you.

Leah couldn’t stop staring at you as you interacted with her teammates. She wasn’t the only one who lost someone when you got on that plane to New York. You had become an important part of her friend group throughout your three-year relationship with the blonde, having come to both club and country games. She really couldn’t fault them for being excited to see you (but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a little ticked off that they had burst the bubble the two of you had been in moments earlier).

“You okay?” Leah heard before she felt Keira’s comforting hand on her arm. The other girls knew Leah had been sad when the two of you had ended your relationship (anybody would be). But only Keira really saw just how heartbroken the split had left their captain. The midfielder had never heard her best friend sob like she did that first month of your breakup.

Leah looked to Keira and nodded but her eyes told a different story. The joy (relief almost) of seeing you was still present, but the pain of you being so close but not hers was finally catching up. She swallowed hard and looked away. If she looked at her best friend any longer, she’d cry again and she couldn’t do that in front of all these people.

Luckily, Sarina appeared and told everyone it was time to get their hair and makeup done before starting the photos. The Lionesses shuffled toward their seats, waving at you with promises of ‘see you later.’ Keira stayed beside the blonde but when she realized Leah wasn’t moving because she wanted to talk to you, she patted her friend’s elbow and left you two alone to talk after giving you a quick hug.

“You’re in charge of video or photos?” Leah asked.

“I get the honour of individual photos. Easy stuff for me today,” you replied, happy to have escaped the group photo and video stations—you knew how rowdy they could get.

“So I’ll see you later then?” The blonde asked hopefully.

“I imagine the captain can’t escape individual photos. Might actually be seeing more of you than the others,” you giggled nervously.

“Okay,” she breathed out.

“Okay,” you repeated. “I’ll see you, have fun Leah,” you said kindly, squeezing her arm before being called over by a fellow photographer.

Leah stared at you as you walked away, arm on fire where you had touched her for the first time in so long. She took a deep breath to calm her beating heart. When it didn’t work, she sighed and made her way toward her hair and makeup seat with one last look your way. This was going to be a long day.

******

“Come on Y/N, you can do it, I believe in you,” Leah shouted from her spot in goal. She had forced you to get on the pitch with her at the park near her home on one of the rare days the two of you both had off. Now personally, you would rather not be here embarrassing yourself with your severe lack of coordination and clumsiness. But Leah had asked, with her low voice and piercing eyes and well who were you to say no, really?

“I can’t, Lee. I’m not made for sports, I’m made for the arts,” you groaned dramitcally as the ball rolled to the far left of the goal post for the sixth time in a row.

“It’s because you’re hitting the ball with the wrong part of your foot. You have to hit the laces not the toes,” the blonde offered, trying to be helpful.

“I thought I was doing that,” you sighed, frustrated that you couldn’t get it.

“No, you’re definitely all toe,” Leah spoke softly as she left the net and approached you. “You have to angle it,” she tried again but when you gave her a blank stare, she took a hold of your foot and positioned it perfectly under the ball.

Your breath hitched as she stood up and was much closer than she had been a minute ago. She cleared her throat before getting next to you. “Now, back up a couple of steps, look exactly where you want the ball to end up and hit it with the laces, exactly where I put your foot.”

You took a deep breath and did exactly as Leah told you. The ball flew through the air and hit the net.

“Oh my god, I did it, Lee did you see that!? It was perfect. It went straight in,” you exclaimed, and Leah giggled at your excitement.

“You’re practically a pro, you’ll be on the team in no time,” she joked.

“Okay, that was exhausting. My turn in net. You take some shots,” you said while making your way to where Leah had just been.

“I don’t know that that’s a great idea,” she cautioned, scared you’d get hurt.

“Nonsense. Just don’t send a bullet and I’ll be fine,” you reassured her. But you were definitely wrong. Because though you didn’t have to worry about Leah hitting you with the ball (she’d never actually shoot hard) you did have to worry about your own clumsiness. When you moved to the right to try and save a shot, you tripped over your foot and landed on your knee. The blood was instant really.

The two of you rushed to Leah’s house around the block and went straight to the bathroom to clean up the little cut which had surprising let out a lot of blood.

She knelt in front of you and cleaned it up with gentle hands, tongue darting out as she concentrated on trying not to hurt you.

Once the band aid was on, she looked up at you and saw you staring at her with an unreadable expression on your face.

“What?” she questioned, which snapped you out of your thoughts of the woman in front of you. For someone so stoic on the field, she really was so gentle.

“No kiss to make it better?” You teased, brow raised, and a smirk plastered on your face in an attempt to divert the attention away from her question before you blurted out that you were in love with her.

But you didn’t get the chuckle you were hoping for, or the push to the shoulder you had grown so accustomed to. Instead, Leah looked straight at you, eyes full of determination, and perhaps a hint of uncertainty.

Your smirk faltered slightly, “Lee are you ok—hmphh.” Soft lips met yours forcefully, cutting you off mid-sentence. The blonde’s hand grabbing your shirt. The two of you fell into a heated rhythm, months of pining on both ends culminating into this moment. After a few minutes you pulled away to catch your breath.

“You know I meant on the knee but this was definitely much better,” you whispered, eyes still closed before diving back into her.

*****

“Leah, earth to Leah,” Beth yelled across the room to their captain who had not said a single word since she sat down in the black hair and makeup chair.

A half hour had passed and Leah hadn’t been able to take her eyes off you, scared that if she did you’d disappear and she’d never see you again.

Jordan, who was sitting on Leah’s left, elbowed the distracted woman lightly, trying her best to bring her attention to Beth, if only to stop the loudness.

“Beth, stop yelling,” Leah deadpanned, finally turning her attention to her teammate.

“How was your conversation with Y/N? From the looks of it there was definitely lots of flirting,” Beth teased just as she always had when it come to you and the blonde.

“We weren’t flirting.”

“You sure? I saw that lip bite and all the checking out. Thinking of making a move, mate?” She continued, despite Keira’s mumbled, “Beth, stop,” the second the words left her mouth.

Leah glared. “It’s not like that. We were just catching up,” she argued.

“You sure? Because you haven’t stopped looking at her since you sat down,” Beth pushed.

“I’m just trying to see what the set up is for when I have to go up there,” Leah bit back.

“Mhmm, yeah I’m sure. Well, better prepare yourself, she’s coming this way,” Beth practically sang.

“That’s not funny. I’m obviously not going to fall for that,” Leah spat out only to feel a hand gently hand on her shouder. Her head turned sharply at the contact, forcing you to immediately let go of her.

“Hey guys, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got to get this rolling. I don’t mind what order you do it in, just make sure you each hit all the stations. Pictures are gonna be in the home and away kits but we also have to get some with the new sports bras. Good?” You commanded more than asked the room of Lionesses, falling into your role as head photographer. Once you received nods, you made your way over to your station in the back corner to prep for whoever decided to join you first.

“You’re drooling,” Beth pretended to wipe Leah’s mouth before making her way over to your station, smirk firmly in place.

“Come on, Leah, let’s get the videos out of the way,” Keira said, dragging the blonde in the opposite direction.

*****

“We’re nearly done, then we can cuddle and watch Lord of the Rings all night if you’d like,” you promised.

Leah had agreed to model for you for a project you were working on, partly inspired by her, highlighting women in their fields. You had already finished all the other portraits, saving what you thought would be the easiest for last.

This is how you ended up in a rented studio, Leah in her kit, and and a football at her feet.

You needed this to be perfect. You needed to make sure you got the perfect shot. It was your first project post graduation and you knew it needed to be exceptional. Which is why you had been here for the past three hours.

“Babe, is it something I’m doing?” She questioned, exhaustion clear in her voice.

“No, god no you’re perfect. It’s just missing something but I can’t tell what,” you sighed.

“Can I make a suggestion?” she asked.

“Please do.”

“It’s because I’m alone,” she started. You stared at her, eyebrow raised in question. “It’s a team sport, it feels weird because I’m alone and I shouldn’t be because nothing I do is ever alone. There’s always another player or opponent their guiding me,” she finished.

You were silent for a moment.

“Y/N?”

“You’re brilliant. You’re absolutely right. Do you think we can get some of your teammates on board?” you questioned, your mind already racing with ideas of how you could incorporate the other women.

“Of course, I’m sure they’d be super into,” she giggled, already picturing the mayhem that would ensue. She moved right in front of you, pulling your attention away from the ideas in your head. You moved the hair out of her face and behind her ear. You stood there for a moment, admiring her beauty.

“What?” she asked, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

“I love you, thank you,” you whispered softly, your eyes full of love. Leah smiled wide before pulling you into a kiss.

“I love you too,” she murmured against your lips before stepping back. “Now let’s wrap this up, I was promised cuddles and intend to hold you to it,” she said with a wink.

*****

Leah had put it off for as long as she could but the day was coming to an end soon and she only had your station left.

She had been sneaking glances at you working all day— while she waited at each photo station, during lunch, between video set ups. She saw you working with each Lioness, catching up with old friends and getting to know the new girls on the squad. Each woman left your station smiling after you had shown them the photos.

Tentatively, Leah approached you as you were going through the photos from the day, noting the edits that needed to be done as you waited for whoever was left (you knew it was Leah, you had been waiting all day, slightly disappointed anytime someone new joined you and it wasn’t your favourite blonde). You turned toward her as she peaked at the screen over your shoulder.

“Those look incredible,” she breathed out, in awe of your talent.

“Thanks, Lee” you blushed, both at her words and proximity.

“Home kit first?” She asked, already adorned in the white Nike jersey. Once you nodded she headed toward the tarp, taking a moment to fix her hair into its signature ponytail.

“Look okay?” She asked, shyly. She knew you loved her hair in a ponytail.

“Looks great but,” you paused to go and grab something on your work table before making your way toward her. “You’re missing something,” you continued, holding the captain’s armband out for her to slip her arm into.

“Ready to go, Captain?” You patted the sleeve before retreating to grab your camera (giving Leah a chance to recover and the blush on her face to subdue).

“Ready when you are.” She stated nervously, unsure how this was going to go. You hadn’t photographed her in years. But her worries were forgotten the second you started. You both fell into the familiar rhythm you had perfected by the end of your three year relationship.

“Good Leah, that’s great, love the ‘I could punch someone look’ it’s very you,” you joked, making her giggle.

“There’s that smile. Keep her there for a second, yeah?” you half-asked, half-commanded.

Leah’s giggles rang out through the studio as you continued on asking her to do various funny poses in an attempt to loosen her up. It caught the attention of her teammates who watched on, the newer call-ups surprised to see their normally stoic captain so care-free, and the older ones sharing silent looks and fond smiles at seeing remnants of the old Leah they hadn’t known in years.

“Great. I think we’ve got the home kit shot,” you told her once you were satisfied with the photos on your computer screen. “Let’s reset and get the next fit done,” you finished, finally looking up at the blonde to see that she had already lost her shirt and was standing in the new sports bra.

You gulped, eyes trailing down to her abs on full display. She cleared her throat pointedly and your eyes snapped up to her smirking face.

“I figured sports bra would be easier first,” she explained, her tone teasing but the want in her eyes— the want you were sure was a reflection of what she was seeing in your eyes— betraying her aloofness.

“Yeah, yup good call,” was all you could get out, still slightly flustered. You needed to get it together. You were a professional dammit. So, you bit your lip and snapped the photos as quickly as possible.

“Alright perfect, I think we got them. Put a shirt on, we’ll get the last ones done,” you said almost desperately.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you say that to me,” she laughed as your cheeks flushed.

“Cheeky,” you mumbled good-naturedly, fidgeting with your camera settings as she changed. The away kit photos happening just as quickly now that she was more comfortable in front of your camera.

“That’s a wrap for you, Leah. Want to see them?” You asked, receiving your answer when she approached you to see your screen. You showed her the overview and accepted her praises graciously.

“I look quite fit in those ones,” she said proudly, pointing to the away kit photos.

You snorted. “Please, you look quite fit in all of em, Lee. The armband suits you,” you told her earnestly.

She stared at you, eyes flickering across your face to see if you had meant it. The want was clear in her eyes again and you gulped, this time not trying to take back the compliment. You meant it.

“Thank you,” she rasped, her eyes now trained on your lips.

“Anyway, it is my job to make you look good,” you joked, successfully clearing the heavy air. If she looked at you like that any longer you don’t know what you would do.

“Is that right?” She asked, eyebrow raised. You laughed but didn’t answer. She knew you were joking. You had always told her that she was the easiest person to take photos of, her beauty making any angle work.

“Looks like everyone’s wrapping up,” you pointed out, noticing how most of the Lionesses were heading to the changing rooms to get back into the clothes they had arrived in.

“I should probably get changed too,” she sighed, not wanting to leave you but feeling the tiredness catching up with her from the long day.

You nodded, putting some distance between the two of you and beginning to clean up your station. “I will leave you to it then.”

“Thanks Y/N, for the photos,” she said. You gave her a small smile and nod before busying yourself with cleaning up. If you didn’t do something with you hands you’d definitely try to snatch her up and keep her with you forever.

Leah looked at you longingly. She sighed slightly before turning around and heading toward her teammates. She could feel your eyes on her back the entire way.

*****

“So that’s it? You’re going?” Leah whispered, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to get the words out.

You had both been woken up by the sound of your phone ringing two nights ago. The call was from an artist in New York with a room open in their gallery and they wanted you and your pictures to take up that space. Your career had been slow to start following the completion of your degree and this was the big break you had been waiting for.

“Lee—”

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you can just be okay with leaving,” she continued.

“I’m not just okay with leaving. London is my home. You’re my home. But it’s an opportunity I can’t turn down, Leah. You have to understand,” you pleaded with your girlfriend, wanting her to understand why you needed to do this.

“So stay. If I’m you’re home then don’t leave me, please,” she practically begged.

“I can’t Leah. The gallery is a dream come true.  They asked for me. They called for me. I can’t turn that away. I’ve worked so hard to be here and I can’t turn it away.”

“So you’re turning away from me instead,” the blonde whispered.

“I’m not turning away from you Leah, this doesn’t need to be the end. I don’t get why we can’t do long distance, just for a little while until I figure this out,” you begged her to hear you out.

“What, so we can end up like every single long-distance couple we know? Broken up and practically strangers,” the blonde spat out. The aggression she normally only showed on the pitch was now directed at you. “I’m not going to let us get to that point, Y/N.”

“So instead of giving us a shot, you’re deciding that we’ll just be broken up and strangers before the long distance happens. How does that make any sense,” you tried to reason.

“This isn’t my fault. You’re the one who decided to change things, not me.”

“I don’t want to break up, Leah,” you sighed, the frustration slipping out.

“No, but you want New York and I can’t be your long distance girlfriend,” Leah said, a finality to her voice that you knew meant it was the end. “I can’t Y/N, I’m sorry,” she said, bringing you into a hug as you both sobbed.

You were set to leave in 3 days. Those were the worst three days of your life. You and Leah agreed your breakup would only be official once you got on that plane. Until then, the two of you were glued to one another. She even helped with booking flights and curating the pieces you wanted to present.

But she could not help with packing, helping you back up your shared life together would hurt to much. So she watched from your bed as you packed instead, eyes watering with every piece of you that was put into a box. You stopped right before packing away her favourite of your hoodies, and you immediately handed it over to her. “It looks better on you anyway,” you murmurred, which had her crying all over again.

When the time came to leave, you hoped with everything in you that she’d change her mind and try to make the distance work. But by four in the morning when you had to leave, she hasn’t said a word.

“I love you so much, Lee,” you whispered, leaning down to give her a kiss on her forehead before leaving the bedroom, suitcase in hand.

She wanted to stop you. Wanted to tell you to come back and stay in bed with her, just for a little longer. Wanted to tell you she was wrong and that the two of you shouldn’t break up and that you could make it work. But she knew she couldn’t. Not with your busy schedules. Not when the mere thought of you across the ocean split her heart in two. She couldn’t handle it. If you weren’t together, then the distance wouldn’t feel as bad, she tried to convince herself. But as she watched you leave, she wasn’t so sure.

“I love you, Y/N” she said through sobs once she heard the front door shut.

*****

Leah was one of the last to leave the changing rooms and when she emerged she found most of the Lionesses surrounding you, bidding you goodbye.

She approached the group, catching the tail end of Jordan’s promise to send you pictures of Blu. One by one your old friends hugged you, before making their way outside toward the bus. Leah stared, wondering if she’d be able to hug you too, but not for long. Once it was the two of you alone, you turned toward her, arms open with an unsure smile on your face.

The blonde melted into the hug. She inhaled your familiar perfume and burrowed into your steady arms, trying her best to commit this to her memory. She didn’t know when she’d get the chance again. You held on just as tightly, before reluctantly letting her go and taking a step back.

Silence fell over you.

“So, when do you head back home, to New York, I mean?” Leah finally asked, dreading the answer.

“Not for a couple of days actually,” you responded, surprise evident on Leah’s face. You were never in London for longer than you needed to be—that’s what your mutual friends had told her whenever she’d catch wind of you being in the city.

“You’re visiting family?” she pried tentatively, trying to gage what was keeping you here.

“Yeah, mostly. It’s been a while since I’ve been here and I promised my nan I’d help her with some stuff around the house,” you offered and Leah smiled (her and your nan always did get on well).

“Well maybe we could get a coffee or breakfast or something, if you wanted to sometime before you help her out or even just before you leave. Maybe Monday morning. If you’re not busy, I mean,” Leah stumbled through the invite.

“I’m sorry, Leah I can’t,” you started but before you could finish she interrupted you.

“Oh, no that’s fine you probably have people to see and stuff to do. That’s totally okay,” she rushed out, heart breaking at that fact that this might be the last she sees of you for a while.

“No Leah I didn’t mean at all, I just meant I can’t Monday morning,” you reassured her.

“Oh,” the blonde Lioness squeaked out, slightly embarrassed by her ramble.

“Maybe Monday afternoon?” You asked gently. “I’m actually going to check out a gallery space and should finish up right around lunchtime.”

Leah stared at you for what felt like an eternity. Her heart beating out of her chest at your words.

“A gallery space? Here? In London?” She questioned, the gears turning in her head trying to figure out why you’d be doing that without getting her hopes up.

Putting her out of her misery, you filled in the blanks for her. “The gallery in New York is doing really well. It’s finally at a point where I don’t need to be there all the time. I trust the team enough to keep it afloat. Figured I’d look into expanding.”

“Expanding to London?” You’re moving back?” Leah asked, holding her breath.

“If this space works out then I’d be back for most of the year. I’d have to travel to New York every couple of months, but I’d be here most of my time,” you answered.

Leah exhaled, trying to keep the wide smile off of her face and failing miserably.

“I was missing home,” you added, hoping she understood what you meant.

Her (now unabashed) smile an indication she had.“Home missed you too,” she replied quickly before Keira appeared in the door.

“Leah, we’ve got to head out. The bus driver is waiting,” she called out—it was clear in her voice she didn’t want to interrupt.

“I guess I’ll see you Monday?” You asked hopefully.

“Definitely, I’ll message you. We’ll work out the details,” she was almost giddy now.

“Okay,” you bit your lip, contemplating your next move. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you got closer, up onto your toes, and kissed her right cheek. “See you, Lee,” you whispered before waving goodbye to Keira and heading back to your station to finish up.

Leah gave you one last look before making her way toward her best friend.

“You okay, mate?” the midfielder asked, eyebrows raised at the smile on the blonde’s face.

Leah nodded, eyes sparkling and smile wide. Keira knew this time she meant it.

#woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine

[kuromiisanton]

Love wins all 

genre. angst. fluff. (mainly angst)

warnings. sadness. death. apocalypse vibes. kissing.

pairing. jeonghan x fem!reader

a/n: this is inspired by the Love wins all MV by IU. That song and MV had and still has me messed up… hope you all enjoy!

You have been running for hours now. Your feet ache and the burning only gets worse the more time goes on, but you can’t stop. Your lungs feel as if they are being burned from the inside out making it hard to breathe, but the tight pull on your hand keeps you from stopping and taking a break. You can feel the warmth of blood running down the side of your temple, reminding you of why you can’t stop.

The shadow cast down from the sky sends a shiver down your spine. It was it… you didn’t know exactly what it was but you do know that it has taken many from this world. Quickly looking up in a panic you meet the deep brown eyes of your fiance. He pulls you toward a huge sliding door. Continuing the fast run you two have been doing for hours now, you take shelter behind a wall out of sight from it. 

There’s a deathly silence that lasts for at least ten minutes. Hands held tightly together, jeonghan glances around the barrier to check to see if it’s all clear. Once he makes sure it’s all clear, he releases a deep sigh of relief and turns towards you. No words are spoken, they haven’t been spoken in years… the silence was once filled with laughs, giggles, and “i love yous”. Now they’re reduced to hand squeezes, eye contact that lasts for hours, and comforting embraces of one another. 

You two take a moment to look around and notice you two have entered the town’s local mall. Right across from the wall you two hide behind is the little coffee shop you two had your first date at. The place you had first ever met the love of your life. You can feel the buzz of nervousness and hear the coffee being brewed when looking across the pathway, it was much simpler… happier times then. You vividly remember when Jeoghan had first ever walked in. His shoulder length hair, green cardigan and white t-shirt paired with a light pair of jeans and a bright smile… his smile. It’s been so long since you’ve seen that smile and everyday you wish you’d wake up from this nightmare where you are lying in your shared bedroom, where you can turn and see Jeoghan peacefully sleeping.

Footsteps catch your attention, breaking you from your thoughts. Jeonghan is walking towards a shop, the video store. Where he would buy disposable cameras almost every week to take photos of you two together for memories. The sound of light steps and deep breaths are the only sounds you have heard for eleven months now… silence used to terrify you but now it brings you great comfort knowing you are okay and one of those monsters is not present. 

Looking around the shop brings back many memories of weekly trips you two would take to get the photos developed and buying a new camera. A small sad smile makes its way to your lips… how much you want to go back in time. You continue your trek down the aisle only to be stopped by the sound of a click and a fast flash of light. You turn to your side to see Jeonghan standing, camera in hand, and a small smile on his lips. He puts the camera eye level again and snaps another photo of you, his smile growing wider looking at the photo.

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. Walking towards him, you gently take the camera from his hands and raise the camera eye level. With a quick clip and bright flash of light you take a photo, looking at the photo taken you see Jeonghan… but this Jeonghan is different from the one standing in front of you. This Jeonghan doesn’t have the scar across his cheek or the busted lip and messy hair…this jeonghan has shoulder length hair and a crisp white t-shirt and cardigan on. You are quick to snap another photo, fearing that you have gotten so hungry that you are now hallucinating this cleaned up version of Jeonghan. But again, the cleaned up Jeonghan shows again through the mini view finder.

Rough and gentle  hands reach around yours, grabbing onto the camera. Taking the camera into his hands, he turns it around to where it faces you both and clicks the photo button. The photo reflects the two of you with no scars or tattered clothes. Jeonghan grabs your hand and runs out of the store where you two stumble upon the shop where various dresses and suits are displayed, glancing at one another you two walk in. 

The feeling of silk fabric runs through your fingertips. The reflection in the mirror gives you a look of what was supposed to happen only a week away from now. The day you were to say your vows and say I do was so close but never came, until now. The sound of a curtain being pushed back caught your attention, turning to see Jeonghan exit the dressing room in a black and white suit and his hair pushed back behind his ears. The sight brings an overwhelming feeling to your body, tears gather in your eyes at the sight of how handsome he is. The small smile he displays gives you a feeling of comfort. 

Walking towards your groom, he extends his hand to you. Hand in hand you two walk towards the makeshift arch, you two stand underneath it and just stare at one another. No words are said, but a vow is spoken in the way you two look at one another…til death do us part. The smiles you two give each other can not be explained by anything short but true and utter love. You feel the beating in your chest grow more intense the longer you stare into his eyes. The grip on your hand releases only to slide up your arm and down to the bottom of your back. 

Jeonghan dips you, catching you off guard and connects your lips together. His chapped lips connecting with yours feels take your breath away, so much so that it rivals the way your breath was lost from hours of running. The kiss is filled with many unspoken emotions, the most recognizable emotion being euphoria. It reminds you of all the times you had kissed one another before but stronger. The smile you two gift one another is small and timid, shy even. Jeonghan grabs the camera and sets it up for you two, and with a click and bright flash it is taken; a memory. So many memories had been made and many were to be made before all of this. 

Walking to the middle of the floor, Jeonghan bows and with an outstretched hand requests a dance. There’s no music, but it’s not needed. This is Jeoghan and your moment. The first dance the new bride and groom always have at a wedding. The only sound is the footsteps of one anothers against the wooden floor and the quiet breaths each takes. The air is quiet and comforting, there’s no stressing about the outcome of tomorrow or thoughts of the end of the world. Just two people in love having the first dance at their wedding. Jeognhan removes his face from your shoulder to look down at you, leaning in once more to kiss you. This time much lighter but you can still feel the happiness radiating off his form. There was nothing you would trade in the world for this feeling to last. 

But nothing like this can last forever.

The moment is broken from the feeling of dread filling your body. You recognize the feeling, the feeling of when it’s around. The unknown monster lurking in the darkness. Jeonghan notices it quickly and grabs your hand running the opposite way. Running down the winding hallways you come to a stop when you hit a dead end, the feeling of death getting close has your head spinning. Out of the corner of your eye you see a stairway heading downstairs. Tugging jeonghan towards the stairs, you two run down the stairwell only to come to the opening floor of the mall. 

There you meet the creature face to face. There’s nothing recognizable of it, only the gray coloring of it and the sorrowful feelings that come with it. You spot a metal pipe on the ground and grab ahold of it ready to attack the unknown. The pipe is taken from your hands before you can realize it, Jeongha is fast to begin his attacks on the creature only to be knocked off his feet by an unknown force ultimately knocking him into you. 

The pair of you meet the ground, knocking the wind out of you. There’s nothing left to do… this was it. But a part of you was accepting of it. You were able to have those years of happiness and love with the love of your life and was able to finally marry him. Grabbing onto his hand, you look at one another knowing this was it. The air changes into despair but you can only feel the feelings you have always felt when with him; happiness, peace, and love. The look he gives you makes it known he feels the same way. With one final look at each other you notice the smile… the bright smile you hadn’t seen in so long and with a final breath you speak “i love you”.

a/n: honestly I did cry while writing this... it's not the best but I really hope you all enjoy this!

©kuromiisanton, all rights reserved.

#𐙚florence posts #seventeen x reader #seventeen x female reader #svt x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x fem!reader

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Now That We Don’t Talk | Jake Seresin blurb

Takes place during the TGM events

TGM masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x ex!reader (past romance), the dagger squad (platonic)

Content Warnings: light angst, profanity, slight suggestive content, cheating, breakup | female!reader | wc: 2.2k

Note: I’m obsessed with 1989 TV and I’ll admit I was never a TS fan growing up but her OG 1989 I liked and I fuck with some songs Evermore, Reputation, Lover & Midnights. That being said, I’ve got the vault tracks on repeat and as a fellow directioner….Harry, baby, I thought you’d be safe.

————————

“You went to a party I heard from everybody. You part the crowd like the red sea, don’t even get me started. Did you get anxious though, on the way home? I’ll guess I’ll never ever know. Now that we don’t talk.”

His number had been deleted for well over three years when she stepped foot into the familiar bar she once called a second home. It’d been just as long since they’d seen each other, neither aware they’d be reunited in mere moments. When she did find his face among the crowd of their colleagues, she froze, contemplating running out the door and back to her car. Images of their last night flooded her mind. She could recall the constant pinging of her cell phone. Text messages from mutual friends informing her that he had been seen in an intimate embrace with another woman before disappearing from the party.

When he got home he avoided her like the plague. Anxiety consuming his entire being, making it clear the rumors were not rumors. They were true as the sun brightened the sky in the day and the moon reigned at night.

“Jake,” her whimper made him freeze, hand on the railing of the steps leading to their bedroom. No response, only a shake of his head before he continued his journey up. Leaving her to cry herself to sleep on the kitchen floor.

It was a domino effect in the days following. The trust was gone, Jake going out more and coming back late at night. Eventually after two weeks of prolonging the inevitable, Jake returned to an empty apartment. All reminisce of their five years together gone in the blink of an eye. She left a simple note, “Hope it was worth it.”

“You grew your hair long, you got new icons. And from the outside it looks like you’re tryin’ lives on. I miss the old ways. You didn’t have to change. But I guess I don’t have a say, Now that we don’t talk.

Natasha was the first to catch her eye in the Hard Deck, putting down her beer to run over and greet the pilot with a quick hug. Careful not to let anyone else see since they were in uniform. “I’m so happy to see you, Blue.”

She returned the smile, though hers was more tense, “It’s great to see you too, Phee. How’ve you been?” Nerves swarmed her belly with each passing minute. Despite being happy to see her old friend, she was unable to ignore the elephant in the room. The man she thought she’d marry and grow old with on a farm after retiring from the Navy with a bunch of kids and animals was several feet from her.

Overall, Jake had not changed much since their breakup. He was tanner for starters, definitely more toned. But he still had that aura of confidence sometimes confused with being cocky and golden blonde hair making him appear like a life-sized Ken doll. Throughout their relationship she noticed the stares they got from men and women alike. Woman looked at him with want and at her with envy. Men did the same but opposite.

It always surprised people when they got together. Complete opposites, they were known to have a rivalry during their time at Top Gun when they were on the path to becoming the Navy’s best fighter pilots. Jake loved to get under her skin, she loved to deflate his ego. Somewhere the dislike and tension turned into complete desire. And before they knew it they were sneaking into each other’s dorms and getting naughty in the locker room showers.

Her body reacted when he was looking at her. He’d spot her in a crowded room and instantly the woman felt heat along her veins. And she felt that fire right then when a sudden rush of jitters sweeped her figure.

Natasha sensed it too, noticing how the woman became tense. Peeking a glance to the side, a glare took over her once soft expression, “We can go somewhere else if you want.”

“No,” she objected with a slight wave, “I’m fine. A little surprised--although I should’ve expected he’d be a candidate as well given the context of this mission. It’s just we haven’t talked since….”

“I understand,” Nat assured, placing a hand on her back and leading her to the bar. “Let’s get you a drink first, then we’ll deal with him.”

“I call my mom, she said that it was for the best. Remind myself, the more I gave you, you’d want me less. I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost. And what it cost, now that we don’t talk.”

Her mothers words replayed over and over again with each step as the two approached the group. Jake was leaning over the pool, calculating his next shot when she moved straight past him causing him to lose focus and miss the ball he was aiming for completely.

“Blue!” Javy shouted, picking her up in a big hug and spinning them around. Not caring if superiors saw or the fact his best friend, who happens to be her ex, was right there. “I’ve missed you, Girl. What’s going on?”

“Nothing much, Javy,” she couldn’t help but giggle. Of all the friends Jake had, Javy was the one who still reached out to her from time to time. Plus he ripped Jake a new one when he found out why they broke up. To this day he still gives him hell for it. “Let it be Top Gun, to bring us all under one roof.”

“Don’t you know it,” he clicked his beer with hers. The two taking a swig at the same time. “Have you met these clowns?” he motioned to the three to his left, “This is Payback, Fanboy, and Bob.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” they shook hands, greeting her with the same enthusiasm. When Bradley arrived she was once again scooped up into a hug, although this time she caught sight of Jake’s hardened expression. That shouldn’t have surprised her. Bradley Bradshaw was the one man Jake always butt heads with.

But the blonde quickly shook it off when he realized he got caught. He had no right to be jealous. It’d been three years since they broke up. And it was his fault nonetheless.

“Well I’ll be damn,” Bradley set her down gently, still embracing her. “If it isn’t Miss. Blues Clues.” A playful slap hit his chest when they parted.

“You know I hate that name, Bradshaw.”

The two caught up briefly, sitting on stools at the opposite end of the pool table. At one point Bradley made her laugh that the beer she’d been sipping on spilled off her mouth, causing him to giggle and hand her some napkins. While dabbing the liquid away, she locked eyes with Jake. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. Pinning her to her seat with an unreadable gaze.

She nearly broke, feeling a speck of desire to talk to him, but then remembered her mothers words, “the more you gave him, the less he wanted you. While you may forgive him for all the hurt he brought you, you cannot subject yourself to that again. You deserve better.”

“What do you tell your friends, we, shared dinners, long weekends with? Truth is, I can’t pretend it’s platonic, it’s just ended so…”

She made a silent vow to herself, recalling the painful memories, the phone conversation with her mother along with bits and pieces friends have told her over the years of what Jake had relied on as the reason for their breakup. She would not fall again to his charm. There was no string that could be tied up in an attempt to fix what was cut.

Around them were friends they’d spend long weekends with. Javy and Nat were the most frequent, both having witnessed their relationship blossom and die. It made her wonder what others they hung out with knew. Whenever they’d see each other in passing the conversations always felt like they were walking on eggshells around her. And because she wanted to move on, she’d never ask what Jake told them.

For the sake of their jobs she’d be civil. The past was the past and it would stay there, but she’d make sure to remember it whenever those old feelings threatened to surface. From the looks of Jake throughout the night, he felt the same. It was obvious he wanted to find a moment alone with her to talk, but she refused to let that happen.

“I call my mom, she said to get it off my chest (off my chest). Remind myself the way you faded ��til I left (until I left). I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost (what I lost). And what it cost, now that we don’t talk.”

When she arrived at her dorm that would be her home for the next three weeks, the first thing she did was retrieve the letter to herself she wrote all those years ago. It was crumbled, having almost thrown it away several times, but remembering the significance within the words inked on the lines, she always pulled it back.

Parts of the paper were withered. A result from the teardrops that had fallen when she took to her desk after the phone call with her mother to write down everything weighed on her chest. Pouring her heart and soul into the paper. It wasn’t much, only taking up the front of the page, but it was enough to get the message across.

Her past self coming to remind her of those fleeting last months. Where Jake slowly became the ghost of the man she’d once loved. The constant worry and anxiety from hours of radio silence. Dinners that felt like an awkward first date. Not inviting her out with his friends anymore. HIs lingering eyes on women who weren’t her. Excusing it with bullshit remarks to make her think she was being dramatic. Finally, the party that sealed the deal.

To imagine what they would be if she gave him another chance would be an insult to herself. Instead, she thought about all she gained.

“I don’t have to pretend I like acid rock. Or that I’d like to be on a mega yacht. With important men who think important thoughts. Guess maybe I am better off, now that we don’t talk.”

After the breakup, she realized how much she hid herself from the world. There were things she pretended to like in order to please him. Like watching college football every weekend, entertaining mostly his friends and leaving her to sit on the couch with a book in hand only to not be able to concentrate with the loud ruckus they’d cause.

Or having to refrain from the things that made her happy. Singing at the top of her lungs in the car while her favorite songs played for the first time in years felt liberating. Not having to be careful on what she spent her money on now that she didn’t have to save more for rent because Jake started to blow his on going to the bar during the last several months of their relationship.

The worst was having to put on a facade in front of Jake’s superiors. Though stationed at the same base they were part of different squadrons. During the banquets and balls, Jake tended to make comments on what dresses she should wear and how to act when they arrived. He was always the kiss ass type who wanted to get promoted faster than his peers. Even though she praised him constantly, Jake was never satisfied unless one of his bosses complimented him. If she were honest to herself, she hated attending the events. Despite being in the Navy herself. Unless they were mandatory she’d find an excuse to not go. Being around men with egos as tall as the empire state building who only talked in statistics and status was draining.

“And the only way back to my dignity. Was to turn into a shrouded mystery. Just like I had been when you were chasing me.”

For the last three years, the way she carried herself changed. She had to for the sake of not letting her heart rot away. Taking back the self-respect she’d lost, after thinking for so long it was her fault Jake had betrayed her. That she wasn’t enough.

She was more than enough.

He was the one who chose to cheat. He was the one who didn’t try to defend himself or fight for what they had. He let himself go. He let her go.

So, after a good month of wallowing in self-pity and despair, she lifted herself up with poise and elegance. Remembering who she was before him. The woman who carried herself with confidence, never allowing anyone to tear her down. Who fought hard to build her career to what it was, after so many doubting her abilities.

The woman he chased after. Who at the core was strong, daring, resilient.

Sure, Jake taught her a lot. About herself, about what she wanted in a relationship. About love. She’ll never forget what they had.

She lost him, but along the way she found herself. And to her, that was everything.

“Guess this is how it has to be, now that we don’t talk.”

……..

Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2 , @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black, @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris , @kmc1989

#Spotify #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #lt jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin angst #hangman fanfiction #hangman #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #hangman angst #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick #tgm imagine

[thebiggerbear]

Jason Teague x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: Jason has just helped you escape the clutches of his nefarious mother. Where will you go from here now that you know the truth?

Pairing: Jason Teague x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I wanted to dabble in the darker side of Jason's arc in the show and the mention of the stones, Lana, and his mom. There's such a clear line cut of when he turns from being a character that has your sympathies who is striving hard for some redemption we don't yet understand into being revealed as a calculating murderer who has severe mommy issues (I say that with love of course). The original ending was going to be much darker but I'll admit, once I got to it, I just couldn't do it. To Jason or Y/N. So I apologize if this has the feeling of crawling up to the dark edge to peek over it but then a backing off. Hope it's still okay, though.

A huge thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!

Warnings: mentions of gun, implied violence, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of injuries, mentions of possible murder scenarios, mentions of infidelity

Word Count: 4761

Jason Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version | Beau version | Dean version | Jenny version | Tom version | Anael version | SDV Alex version

<-->

Jason unlocked the motel room door and urged you in first as he glanced around, making sure no one else was around. Once you were in, he flipped the light on and moved towards the windows to draw the curtains closed. You remained where he left you, frozen in shock, and dripping on the cheap and questionable-looking carpet.

Both of you were soaked through. You’d gotten caught in the storm when Jason had freed you from captivity, hence beginning the run for your life. Thunder cracked above, causing the motel to shake, and you jumped slightly. You’d been hearing thunder for the last half hour, running in the downpour as lightning ripped through the skies overhead once Jason dumped the car he’d been driving. It was too risky to keep especially since he’d likely stolen it just for this mission alone, thus he’d simply grabbed a bag out of the trunk, tossed it over his shoulder, took your hand, and threw the keys out into the surrounding grass. Ever since, you’d been on the run, Jason leading you to the next town over. When you were both exhausted, Jason had decided on this motel, paid cash for a room, and now you were here. Alone. At any second, you could be taken away again since a certain someone wanted you out of the way and you had a figurative price on your head. Something told you that if you were taken again, this time it would be ensured that you wouldn’t actually survive it. They didn’t want to keep you tied to a chair or temporarily removed from the board — it was clear that they wanted you gone completely. 

You watched Jason move around to further secure the place and, the shock wearing off, you slowly brought yourself to sit down on the edge of one of the beds, not caring that you were probably soaking through the bedspread. You stared into space as flashes of memories began to assault you. You hadn’t been physically tortured, but the things you were told, the things you’d been shown…well, all of that, you’d rather forget. 

You heard a click that made your eyes snap up in Jason’s direction, seeing him checking his gun. That was something new, Jason not only being armed but also apparently being an expert marksman, something he’d proven when coldly and efficiently dispatching your guards. You highly doubted that either of them would ever walk properly again, and it was just one of the many new things you’d learned about your boyfriend these past three days; never in a million years would you have ever thought him capable of wielding a gun. You’d been dating him for six months and it turned out you never really knew him — the real him. Sure, you knew his name was Jason Teague, but you didn’t know just what kinds of things actually came with that name. And to think, you thought the Luthors were soulless, dysfunctional, greedy monsters. 

You stared ahead at the dresser. In a small voice, you stated, “I should call Clark, let him know I’m safe. The Kents can call my parents and let them know I’m okay. Or I can call Lana…if you want.”

Jason stopped what he was doing and his gaze landed on you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his jaw clench and his lips press together. Truthfully, you were surprised he had even bothered rescuing you since it turned out you weren’t the only Smallville native he had been dating. How he managed to pull that one off you couldn’t be sure. Then again, he had managed to keep this side of himself under wraps up until three days ago when all the while, you’d never been the wiser. You were in love and happy, only seeing what he wanted you to see — how could he not be successful at keeping the fact that he was seeing one of your best friends hidden from you, too?

“You can’t,” Jason answered, his tone icy. “It’s too risky right now.”

You managed a slow nod, your eyes never lifting from the dresser. You’d expected as much and honestly, you didn’t want to drag your parents, the Kents, Clark, or anyone else into this mess. You refused to put them in danger; you’d die first, something that was likely going to happen soon anyway. It was probably better for them not to know the truth about what was going to happen to you. Lana… Well, Lana was already caught up in this whether she knew it or not. You just hoped she had a better chance than you did and that she got out of this. And you really hoped that if she found out the truth about Jason (and you really wanted her to) that she would be stronger than you to get past the pain of his betrayal and get as far away from him as she could. He was a walking death sentence and even though she had unknowingly participated in your heartbreak, you didn’t want that for her at all.

Jason crouched down in front of you but you refused to meet his eyes, instead looking down at your lap. “Let’s see those cuts.” You were numb when he pulled your hands to him and studied the indentations and burns the ropes had made on your wrists. He glanced up at you but you kept your gaze on your injuries. “They’re not as bad as I thought they’d be but they should still be cleaned.” He reached over to his bag and pulled out a first aid kit. You watched in confusion as he proceeded to clean your wounds and then bandage them with great care. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost think the old Jason, the Jason who’d come into the coffee shop you worked at every summer day to flirt with you until you agreed to a date, was starting to show through. But you did know better, and you knew that he was a far better actor than you’d ever given him credit for. 

When he was done, he tenderly rubbed a thumb over one of the bandages. “There,” he murmured. This time, when he lifted his eyes to yours, you didn’t avoid his gaze. You tried to see the man you once knew who had actually held you as you cried when your divorced parents’ bickering and dramatics ruined your 18th birthday dinner; you had already been nervous-yet-excited beforehand because you were announcing that you and Jason were going to travel to Europe for two weeks. You’d always wanted to go, but it seemed to be only a dream — one that was out of your reach until Jason surprised you with two tickets to London as a birthday gift. The trip ended up being canceled later anyway because Jason suddenly had to fly to Paris on an urgent business matter for his mother, something that she was going to pay him for. He needed the money since his father had cut him off and he was starting at CKU in the fall. You’d offered to go with him, but he said he wouldn’t have any time for sightseeing, promising he’d call you often and bring you back some French souvenirs, swearing he’d pick out the best spots for you two to return to at a later date. He’d kissed you goodbye and gave you that brilliant smile of his, waving as he moved further into the airport. He ended up staying in Paris for weeks and when he came back, he seemed distant and a little busier, but you chalked it up to him starting classes and his new job right away. Now, obviously, you knew that that wasn’t the case, but as you stared into his jade-colored eyes, you didn’t see a trace of the Jason you’d met before that trip to Paris. He had never really existed, had he?

The real Jason, the one you’d come to know now, cupped your chin and studied your face from all angles. “We’ve been so busy running that I haven’t really had a chance to look you over. Did they hurt you?”

“Not physically.”

Jason’s eyes snapped to yours. “What does that—”

You got to your feet, the action knocking his hand away, and you moved towards the table he’d left the gun on. You stopped right before it and stared down at the weapon, almost as if it was mocking you by being there. 

“Y/N.” You heard the familiar soft call of your voice and you briefly closed your eyes. If only you had never met him… Gentle hands landed on your shoulders and turned you around to face him, seeing the cold aloofness from before had all but vanished. “I need you to tell me. What did they—”

You decided you were done holding back. You’d been through hell the past few days, you were exhausted and depleted of any energy or motivation for anything else, and who knew how long you had? “You never really loved me, did you?”

His eyes widened. “What? Of course I love you, Y/N. I’m here, aren’t I? I went and got you out of there. I—”

“I wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for you.”

Jason’s face fell, appearing as if you’d slapped him, and then his expression hardened. “What did my mother say to you?”

Your gaze remained on him. “She told me everything.” You watched as that realization played over his features and his jaw tightened. “So, yeah, I know about the stones, you and Lana…” His eyes appeared to be slightly glassy (or maybe it was the lighting from the lamp behind you) as he cocked his head a little, looking at you, yet he didn’t even try to deny it. How could he? It was nothing but the truth, and worse, his mother had been the one to tell you that truth; how was that for irony? “When you canceled our trip, when you didn’t want me to go to Paris with you, how distracted you were when you came back, how busy you were — it really explains everything, doesn’t it?” His gaze softened slightly and he briefly hung his head. “I was just too stupid to see it.”

His head snapped up. “No,” he insisted, laying a hand on your cheek. “You weren’t stupid. I was. I should have let you go the moment I met Lana in Paris.”

Even though you thought your heart couldn’t break any more than it already had these past three days, it turned out you were wrong. Your eyes began to sting as tears built up in the corners. While you already knew of his two-timing, you didn’t think he’d come right out and just say it, and in such a blase manner to boot. And how easily you would have been tossed aside, as if you’d meant nothing…that hurt.

A hurt that mirrored your own flickered across his face as he gently cupped yours. “But I didn’t want to.”

“Why?” You choked out.

“Because you mean the world to me,” he murmured, placing his forehead against yours. “Because you’re what I want and I was too selfish to give you up.” He ran his nose along yours just like he used to and you involuntarily shivered. “I love you, Y/N. Always have.” His eyes dropped to your lips and when he leaned in, you pulled away and stepped closer to the table. 

“No, you don’t. If you did, you never would have put me in danger or let me become mixed up in all of this while you pursued one of my best friends behind my back. You would have just left me alone in that coffee shop,” you gritted out, a tear slipping down your cheek that you quickly wiped away. “What was the point of it all, Jason? Was I just some distraction for you that you could drop at a moment’s notice when your mother called? And Lana,” You scoffed and wiped away another tear. “It would be one thing if you actually loved her, but you’re just using her to get the stones. You’re doing the same thing to her that you did to me. You used both of us! And for what? Some ancient stones that your mother believes are supposed to give her some sort of power? So that you make Mommy Dearest happy and can go back into the unhealthy Teague fold? What’s the motivation here?”

He swallowed compulsively as you laid bare his transgressions, yet his eyes never left your face. “I never used you.”

You huffed out a laugh of disbelief. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

His jaw tensed but he stayed silent.

You slowly nodded and after a moment, your eyes trailed to the gun on the table between you. “So when do you use that on me? When your mother tells you to, or when you’re finally done with me?”

You heard a tiny choked sound and you glanced up to find Jason staring at you in horror. He rushed over to you, causing you to stiffen, and he gripped your face as he searched your eyes. “I would never hurt you!” Too late on that count. He watched as another tear rolled down your cheek and his expression softened. “Y/N, I need you to listen to me,” he entreated softly, wiping away the tear with his thumb. “You were never supposed to know about any of this. I kept you at a distance when I came back because I didn’t want you becoming mixed up in this. My mother, she promised she’d leave you alone if I just…” He took a deep breath to compose himself. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I never wanted you to see this side of me. Ever. My plan was just to get her what she wanted, this last thing, and then I’d be free to come back here, be with you, and start over, live my life, but…” He shook his head. “I guess that’s all a moot point now, isn’t it?” A tiny smile played upon his lips, devoid of any mirth, as he let you go and turned his back to you, running a hand down his face.

You glanced once more at the gun, wondering if you should try to grab it but you weren’t sure if you were fast enough. And if you did get the gun, what then? Would you really be able to use it against him, to pull the trigger?

“If you want to walk out that door, I won’t stop you.” Your gaze snapped up to Jason’s back. “Just promise me you’ll take it with you.” You briefly flicked your eyes to the gun once more. “It’s fully loaded. And there’s plenty of cash in the bag. Take it all with you, run as far as you can until you can get safe, stay off the grid, and I’ll do everything I can to keep her from going after you. I’ll distract her with the stones, lie and say I killed you so she’s satisfied, whatever it takes.” 

Your eyes widened at his words. Run? You didn’t know how to run or stay off the grid. Maybe you’d seen something like it in a movie once, but that was fiction, not reality. Did he really think Genevieve Teague would believe his lie about you? Granted, he was good at lying as you now knew but he wouldn’t be able to fool her. Unless she was right in what she had told you, that you never really mattered to Jason in the first place, so it wasn’t too far-fetched for her to believe that you’d be so easily disposed of without a second thought by her son. “And how long is that supposed to buy me, Jason?” 

“There’s enough money in there for you to start over, to get a new life. You could go anywhere in the world you want. Canada, Cape Town, Tokyo, England.” At that, your eyes burned once more but you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Anywhere you want to go.”

“And my parents?” You bit out. “My life? Graduating high school at the very least?”

“You making it out of this alive is more important than any of that.” Jason let out a sad sigh. “It’s my fault you’re in this now, that you’re in danger, but I promise I never wanted this for you. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry, I really am.” He turned his head slightly back towards you. “I do love you, Y/N. I always have. I hope you believe me when I tell you that I always wanted to come back and have things be like the way they used to be. I miss those days more than you know,” he ended in a whisper.

“You can’t go back,” you whispered back.

You saw his shoulders drop slightly and he nodded. “I know.” His tone sounded defeated. “And that’s why you should go. But before you do, I need you to know one thing.” 

You waited for him to say whatever he was planning on saying.

“You were never a distraction. That trip to Europe we were planning, those nights under the stars, everything we talked about, us…that was the real deal.”

Your lip wobbled and you bit down into it, trying to keep the tears at bay as a memory resurfaced of you and Jason lying on the hood of his car under the clear night sky. He showed you where all of the constellations were (initially, you only knew where the Big and Little Dippers were), and you’d both spoken about each of your dreams for your lives. After you’d excitedly pointed out a shooting star, he’d told you to close your eyes and make a wish. You did and that was when he kissed you for the first time. He’d breathlessly asked you about your wish afterwards and you’d smiled right at him, saying it came true. He’d given you that bright smile of his in return and leaned in to kiss you again, murmuring, “Mine too.”

Another memory shook loose of a night you’d stayed with him. He had been staying at a local B&B over the summer before his trip to Paris. When you two began to get serious, you’d taken to spending more time with him there, even sneaking out a time or two to stay the night unbeknownst to your parents. Nothing ever happened between you during that time but he would hold you and you both would laugh and talk and just enjoy being together. One such night, you’d fallen asleep but you had a nightmare. Someone was chasing you and you were running for your life. You ran into Jason telling him that you both needed to run, but he didn’t seem to understand the danger you both were in. He seemed distracted and looking elsewhere, not at you or where you were pointing. It wasn’t long until this unidentifiable assailant caught up to you and at the last second, Jason stepped in front of you, telling you to run right before he was killed in front of you. You’d woken with a loud gasp, your scream caught in your throat, and shot right up in bed. 

Jason had immediately awoken and was trying to calm you down, to get you to breathe as he tenderly rubbed your back, and he kept telling you it was just a nightmare. You didn’t tell him what the dream entailed but you’d thrown your arms around his neck and held him close as he attempted to comfort you. Eventually, he’d laid you both back down, his hand gently running through your hair as you kept your head on his chest, your ear positioned perfectly over his beating heart to reassure yourself. 

“It was just a dream, sweetheart,” he had hummed against your forehead. “I’m right here and you’re okay.” Hearing his soothing words and heartbeat, feeling the tender caresses of his hand up and down your back, you did start to drift back off, hoping against hope the nightmare didn’t continue. You weren’t sure how you’d endure a world without Jason in it, even just a dream world. Just before you’d fallen back into slumber, you’d heard him murmur sleepily to you, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” You’d smiled and whispered that you loved him which caused him to smile as well and whisper the sentiment back to you. And he had — kept you safe, that is.   

And now here you were, considering taking the gun and running for your life like you had in that nightmare, though this time was real and you would now also be running from his mother, from him. How had things gone so terribly wrong in only a few months’ time? 

Another tear slipped down your cheek but this time, you didn’t wipe it away. “It was for me, too,” you admitted in a whisper.

Jason slowly turned back to you and you could see a recent tear track on his own cheek. “This was never supposed to happen,” he said softly. He drifted towards you and perhaps you were so caught up in memories that you didn’t back away or even tense up. Instead, when he laid a hand against your cheek, you leaned into it. Despite everything he’d said and done, despite how much he hurt you and your life had become a casualty due to his choices in his mother’s obsessive quest for a particular set of artifacts, your heart still yearned for him. When he moved even closer, leaning in to kiss you, you welcomed it. When more memories began to wash over you, of everything you had lost and would lose, you threw your arms around him and kissed him more passionately, tears rolling down your cheeks. Gone were the plans of you attending CKU with him; gone were the plans of you two moving in together, spending the holidays with your family, and traveling abroad to see all of the places you both wanted to see; gone was the future Jason had talked about wanting to have with you eventually down the road — all of it was just gone in a single moment of Genevieve Teague revealing who her son really was and just how much control she had over him. You supposed you hadn’t really had time to properly mourn the end of those dreams, of your relationship, everything you believed it had been — it only made sense to kiss it goodbye. Literally.

When you both broke apart for air, he laid his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to let you go,” he whispered.

“Then don’t.”

His eyes snapped open in surprise. Truthfully, your words surprised even you. He lifted his head and looked down at you, his brows furrowing and his face lining with a mix of suspicion and confusion. Still, his green gaze lit with a dim gleam of hope. 

“You don’t have to be this person anymore. You can give it all up and walk away. You said yourself that there’s more than enough money in that bag to start over somewhere new.” He went to say something when you framed his face with your hands, gazing up at him as earnestly as you could. “So do it. Make a different choice.”

He stared into your eyes. “Y/N,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I—”

His cell phone began to ring on the table, near the gun. You both turned to glance at it before turning back to each other. You silently pleaded with him to do as you’d suggested. He had made it sound so easy, that you could walk out that door and start all over — if it was that easy, why couldn’t he do the same? Your heart sank when he gently removed your hands from his face and began to move towards the table.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat and though your eyes burned with new tears, they didn’t fall. He watched you as he approached the ringing phone and picked it up in his hand. You felt numb as you took a step forward and picked up the bag, slinging it over your shoulder. It was clear that he wasn’t going to make a different choice, and it was clear that you were also screwed and needed to run like he’d told you. If his mother was calling him, then that meant she already knew he had helped you escape and she could be on her way right this second, or worse, right outside the door. You picked up the gun and you hated how it felt in your hands. It was heavy, sure, but also light enough that you could easily lift it and fit your finger inside the trigger handle at a moment’s notice. You’d never shot a gun before so you probably wouldn’t hit whatever or whoever you targeted, but at least you’d be able to wield it to an extent.

The next thing you knew, Jason hurled the ringing phone at the wall, making you jump as it loudly cracked into two pieces.

You turned wide eyes on him but he quickly approached you, his jaw clenched. For a moment, you wondered if you’d actually have to try to use the weapon in your hand to try to defend yourself, though you didn’t know if you had it in you to hurt him. Sure, you’d fight to survive, but your traitorous heart still loved him. Luckily, you were spared from having to make that decision when he snatched it out of your hand (which did make you a bit nervous at first) and cupped your face, his green eyes staring into yours, that slight hope from earlier now a blazing inferno mixed with determination. “A different choice,” he whispered, almost as if he was sounding out the words for the first time. After a moment, he gave you a slow nod, put the gun away, and leaned in to brush his lips against yours. “Let’s do it.”

“Really? You’re sure?” You breathed, your heart starting to lighten inside your chest.

A tender smile stretched across his face and he kissed you again. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He kissed you one more time and took your hand, leading you to the door.

You stopped in your tracks, though, when a thought hit you. “My parents…”

“Let me get us out of here and we’ll decide what to do about letting them know you’re okay without tipping off my mother.”

You nodded, still beyond surprised that he had actually listened to you considering how tightly his mother seemed to have control over him. “Jason, are you really sure? Won’t your mother be even more upset if you leave and don’t help her with the stones? And what about Lana? I don’t want her to get—”

He laid a gentle finger on your lips and kissed your nose. “Like I said, let me get us out of here first. We’ll handle everything else after. Okay?” At your nod, he smiled again, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you could go anywhere in the world today, where would you go?”

You nearly smiled at the familiar question — it was similar to the one he’d once asked you, beaming right before he’d pulled out the two tickets to London from behind his back, making your eyes widen and you practically squeal with glee before launching yourself at him and pressing kisses all over his face, making him laugh. You could see his eyes soften slightly as you realized he was reliving the same memory.

This time, you gave it some thought before answering, “Iceland.”

“Iceland?” He asked, sounding pleasantly surprised. 

You nodded. “It’s supposed to be beautiful there. I’ve seen pictures and I’ve always wanted to go. Plus, it never gets fully dark there.”

He tenderly stroked your chin with his thumb. “And we could see the Northern lights when it does,” he murmured.

“We’d never be fully in the dark, there’d always be light.” You pressed your lips together and stared up at him meaningfully. “I like the sound of that.”

He ran his hand gently over your hair and his affectionate smile grew as he nodded. “Then Iceland it is.”

#jason teague x reader #jason teague x female reader #jason teague x you #jason teague x y/n #smallville fanfiction #jason teague #smallville #prompt response #smallville fandom #jason teague fanfiction #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #thebiggerbear

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | MS47 | part. 05

Social media version

Pairing: hamilton!reader (she/her) x mick schumacher

Warnings: curse words, mentions of food and bike rides, fluff, not proofread etc etc. Minors DNI!

word count: 2.4k

part. 04 | series masterlist | part 06

Summary: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that's why, for the first time in forever, he throws cautious carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

Mick considered himself a shy person, and for some reason, he thought the fact he spoke less and heard more helped him read all rooms better. He was, in fact, quite right, but he also was very aware that his attentiveness would triple when it came to Y/n. She would walk inside the room, and his ears would perk up, his eyes searching for her, scanning her body, making sure she looked safe and happy. He did it every day Y/n would show up during training and races. She was still good at her job of not being seen that much, but Mick Schumacher was better at finding what he was looking for.

And he’s been looking for Y/n since the very first day. 

That is why when she walked in that morning wearing baggy jeans, a sweatshirt, and a pair of sneakers instead of the usual heels she was testing for her collection, he knew the leaking of her presence and even more, her identity, had affected Y/n more than people would think.

Y/n waved his way and made small talk with those who came to her though she was quick to go to the motor home to work on her own assignments. 

“It’s ok if we make a quick pause?” Mick asked one of the engineers who was talking nonstop to him about an improvement and some tactics. He could hear everything perfectly. However, his mind was unfocused. “To stretch and get some coffee, you know,” he clarified, and the girl nodded. She was probably looking for the possibility of caffeine. 

Schumacher got up and made his way to the room inside the motor home he knew Y/n always used, and undoubtedly there she was, curled up on the sofa instead of the spacious work table. Laptop perched on her legs, eyes scanning its screen until she heard the door open. 

“Hey, Mouse,” she greeted. Y/n has been calling him “mouse” after the first week when it was clear they would become, at least, close friends. She joked about his name, saying that it reminded her of Mickey, the famous mouse from Disney, and Mick, used to that, but finding it funnier for the first time, could only chuckle along and let her proceed to give him a nickname. He was Mick or Schumacher or even Schumi to some in the paddock, but he was Mouse to Y/n, which gave him a sense of intimacy. It felt like he was unique to her like they shared something that no one else did. Rationally, he knew it was probably nothing, she was this open and affectionate with most people, but he decided not to dwell too much on it. “You’re looking for Lewis? I saw him with George.”

“I was looking for you,” he stated before closing the door behind him. 

“Oh?” 

“You seemed sad. I was worried,” two simple sentences were enough for Y/n to close the lid of the laptop and sigh. There was something so touching about the fact that someone took the time of the day to look at you and look for you, really look, not just pass eyes and greet, but make sure you seemed happy and safe. 

“I- you don’t have to worry. I just did not sleep very well tonight… I don’t wanna keep you from your work,” the way her eyes stared at anything but his own was the evidence he needed to know that she was probably brushing it off and lying. 

“I’m on my pause. And you can talk to me, you know that, right?” when her big eyes finally found him Mick took a step towards the couch. “Do you wanna talk about it? Want me to stay in your company?”

“I-” she started but did not finish her sentence, eyes glued to the ground again. 

“I’m your friend, am I not? You won’t bother me, just tell me what you need me to do, and I will do it. If you want me to leave, I can leave,” he voiced, and when one of his feet moved away from the couch, Y/n hand gripped his hand in a beat. The first thing Mick noticed was how cold they felt against his skin. How small they were in comparison, and then how good. 

Her hold on him felt good. 

They shared eye contact for a while before she offered “stay.” 

And so when he sat beside her, without letting go of her hand, thighs, and part of their bodies touching, it only felt natural the way his arms encircled her shoulders, bringing her impossibly closer. 

“Is that okay?” he tried to sound casual, but his voice was just above a whisper. Y/n’s perfume was richer this close, some of her curls tickling his cheeks and neck in a soft caress. Her body accommodated his perfectly, he thought. 

“This is perfect,” she, too, whispered. “Add a chocolate bar or a pit of ice cream, and I would be 50% better,” it was a joke, her tone a bit lighter, and that’s why Y/n stilled when Mick moved a bit to reach something in his pants pocket. 

“Not a chocolate bar, but close enough, I guess?” Mick dipped his head to look at Y/n, forgetting how close they already were. There was a beat before she looked down at his hands, a small smile on her plush lips. He could see clearly the undertones and how they had a darker color around the edges, whereas the center of her lips seemed a bit lighter. Mick wanted to trace it with his fingers. 

“You have a sweet tooth too??” 

Mick grinned, shaking his head, “Not really, but I like to have something sweet with me in case someone needs it, and also, I ran out of my regular granola bars,” it’s his explanation. 

She stares at the plastic paper for a second, he can see how her brows knitted, and for some  reason, he feels like clarifying, “It’s vegan if that’s what you’re thinking about.” 

“Is it?” the smile she gave him almost pushes his body back on the couch. It was bright and big and so so so beautiful.

“Yup, they are usually the healthiest opinion or at least the easiest to know what’s inside.” 

“Good for me,” she grins. 

“It’s a family thing, then?” he asks in a lighter tone, and Y/n adjust her body, pushing her legs up to the sofa, which makes them impossibly closer. 

Y/n opens the bar and pushes it closer to his lips. And, albeit Mick was not feeling hungry or wishing for something sweet, quite the contrary. He felt satisfied. His body would not let his mind reject food from her hands. Her figure was close, her fingers impossibly closer. So he wrapped his lips around the bar, taking a small bite. It was worth it because her lips tipped up in a small grin before directing the piece of food to her own mouth. Eating was not something attractive to Mick Schumacher until now. Until he experienced her cheeks puffing, the tip of her tongue coming in contact with her lips to gather the chocolate syrup that dripped a bit, and her neck working to swallow a bite. “Nah, it’s only me and Lewis,” she answered. 

“Huh?” Mick asked after noticing he spaced out.

“It’s not a family thing. Only me and Lew are vegan. Dad loves to host barbecues, by the way,” she silenced to take another bite and then offered to Mick again. “You know, the bad part about the constant travel is that sometimes it’s hard for me to find proper vegan places where I get exactly what I’m craving. Not everyone can do vegan food. I consider it an art,” she rambles. 

“We can explore them together…” he suggests, and her eyes find his face. It flushes a bit. “I usually know the city or have friends that can suggest locations. You would not be alone, get to eat your vegan arts, and I would get to eat good food,” and have your company, he almost added, because that was his interest. 

Mick was a smart guy. He knew what attraction felt like, and although he never felt it quite the way he was feeling, he was starting to piece the fact that he cared about Y/n a bit more than the friendship lines would let him. 

“Are you for real?” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Then I’m in,” there’s a small smile on her lips that turns into a ghost when she adds, “I’m sorry for earlier, for giving you a cold shoulder, when you tried to check on me. It’s just so stressful how half of the internet is saying that I am my brother’s girlfriend, and the other half is digging shit up, ugh.” 

Mick thought for a second, waited to see if she wanted to add something, and then spoke, “Maybe now that the cat is out of the bag, the best option is, to tell the truth, and ask people to give your privacy back or stop overstepping, you know? Sometimes this is all it takes, some people are going to start stuff either way, but when you are vocal about your space and how you feel about it, chances are high that at least a good part of the fans will try to respect it. Speaking for personal experience.” 

Y/n sighs before dropping her head into his shoulders, one of her hands finding its way into the Mercedes logo on his shirt and tracing to distract her screaming mind. 

“You’re right. I will try to do just that. Maybe it’s a good thing, after all, no more contracts about people saying who I am or if they saw me here or not. I will be able to walk around and talk with some of the guys I’m already friends with,” she states. 

They stayed together, intertwined like that, for some more minutes before Mick had to leave and Y/n had to get back to her e-mails.

The next day Y/n woke up late but decided to let Lewis know she was going a bit later than usual just so her brother wouldn’t be worried. If it were up to him, they would arrive and leave together, he could always get her home, but most of the time, Lewis liked to get there early or had something to do before getting on the paddock. Y/n loved every minute of her sleep, so she chose to go on her own and, sometimes, leave with him. This morning, however, Y/n got a message from Mick asking if she was showing up, and after telling him she was probably a tad late but would be there, he suggested a ride on his bike. And it’s not that she was afraid of bikes, but she was always unsure, it seemed dangerous, kudos her brother's work was dangerous as well, but it was different, or so she thought it was, but when the bold asked if she trusted him, Y/n could only be honest and say yes. 

That’s how she found herself staring at an absolutely breathtaking Mick wearing his helmet and offering her one. 

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Y/n voices her concerns one more time, her eyes scanning the big bike with uncertainty. 

“Absolutely, I won’t let anything happen to you, c'mon,” he was so sure, and she could almost see the smile on his eyes, his lips covered by the helmet. 

Y/n took some seconds trying to gather her thoughts. She would have to sit there and attach herself to Mick. Hold his waist. Trust his guidance. Let him fly through traffic. 

“Y/n?” Mick asked, staring at her. 

She nodded, and he brought her close by her hand, pushing some of her hair back before securing the helmet on her head. 

“Comfy?” his eyes goes over her to make sure she was safe, and she could only nod again. She wanted to hug him like the other day, to feel his hands on her arms and his solid chest on her head. “Now, come on, or we will get late.” 

Mick helped Y/n climb the bike and secure his backpack on her shoulders, the one she insisted on taking, which she started to rethink after noticing how much closer they would be without the thing between their bodies. She secured her arms around his abdomen, and he covered her hands with one of his after taking off.

He guided the motorcycle with one hand for what felt like a minute or so, but she did not feel unsafe or scared. Quite the opposite, his hold on her and his warmth only made her feel safer. 

“There’s something on my backpack for you. Remind me to grab it when we get there, will you?” His voice was low under the gush of wind and car noises, but she confirmed and made herself more comfortable. Life was passing in a blur around them, and she enjoyed the feeling of watching everything at that speed with him so close. 

Once Mick and Y/n finally arrived at the Paddock, they ran to the motorhome. A chuckle escaped their lips when both entered the meeting room Y/n used to work whenever she was around. 

“I had no idea which one you would like, so I got two,” Mick opened his backpack, diving for a medium-sized lid and passing it to Y/n. 

“Is that food?” she asked, a big grin on her lips. 

The blonde just watched as she opened it to find two vegan cookies staring back at her. They seemed intact after the ride, thank goodness. 

“Oh God, Mouse, this was so thoughtful!” Y/n left the sugary treats at the table before throwing herself in his arms. She couldn’t help herself. 

Schumacher’s hands were fast to find their place on her back and waist, bringing their bodies closer and sharing more warmth. She got on her tiptoes and distanced her face a bit to let a kiss on his cheek, but somehow her plump lips ended up on his jaw, and Mick almost sighed, asking for one more. Just one more chaste kiss. One more touch of her soft lips. 

Friends did that too, right? 

Friends could be affectionate around each other.

He was not crossing any lines, he thought. But deep down, he knew that his mind and heart raced through any lines before his body could. 

He was down deep, but nothing ever felt this good. 

***********************

make sure you like and reblog <3 feel free to talk to me as well, my inbox is always open!

wanna be tagged on my stories? click here

#black!reader #f1 imagine #hamilton!reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x black!reader #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #king of my heart ms47 #social media au f1 #black!reader f1 #mick schumacher social media au #f1 imagines #ms47

[rinsuniverse]

hi dear! i saw your writing about being sick and not telling woozi, and i was wondering if you could do a shua version?😭i kinda have a cold rn and this was so comforting i loved it, it’s totally okay if it’s too much and you don’t wanna write it!<3 have a nice day, take care!

sick with joshua! ✧˖°.

i'm 110% convinced he would take care of you the absolute best whenever you're sick!!

he'll have gradual red flags the way that jihoon does as you go about your day without telling him

the first red flag was in the morning when he realized you're energy seems off

he wakes up before you and plays with your hair until you wake up

he notices you're breaking out in a cold sweat and his sighs, wiping your forehead with his sleeve

when your eyes flutter open, he smiles at you

"good morning, beautiful," he grins

"morning..," you groan, breaking out into a cough after your voice comes out raspy

"are you alright? should i get you some cold medicine?"

"no, i'm good. my allergies have just been acting up," you say

he sees this tiredness in your eyes, and it makes him feel sorry for you

he continues to brush through your hair and whispers to you since your voice doesn't get very loud

"hey, let's call in and say we'll come in late today. you seem tired, honey," he says quietly

"no, i'm okay, i'll get up now," and the moment is over

as you both get ready, he stops to get you some allergy medicine for the day, setting a reminder in his phone for when he should remind you to take the second dose

he puts a small thing of tissues in your handbag and tea packets and then showers you with kisses before leaving, telling you that he hopes his kisses give you energy

and that's when he is able to brush away most of his worry for you

as you go about your day with your energy drained and being able to kind of breathe because of the meds he gives, you text shua every so often to thank him and continue to convince him that you're okay

you: hey, shua, i hope you're doing well

you: thanks for the meds! i can breathe well now

shua: of course, anything for you 🤍

shua: i'm doing great

shua: still tired?

you: just a little

shua: i packed you some tea in your handbag

you: what? when?

shua: boil some water in your breakroom and see if there's some honey to put in it if you don't like the taste

shua: i packed the one that's best to clear your sinuses

you: shua wth 😭

you: i love you

shua: i love you more

and he doesn't worry about you until he knows you're done with work and he wants to call

and that's when the next red flag comes up

"hey, y/n/n, i missed you-"

and then you start coughing and it's the most outrageous, disgusting, crackily sounding cough anyone has ever heard

you swear you can hear the side eye he's giving you as he says, "did you not drink the tea i packed?"

"i did! i just- still have some phlegm in my throat from the allergies."

he does NOT completely believe you

at all

but it's fine, he brushes it off because obviously you don't want to make a big deal out of it

"get home safely, okay, beautiful?"

"okay, i'll see you at home in a bit."

he calls out of work early

he knows you have that attitude where you don't want him to worry about you

so he already prepared for this

he stopped by the store to get you your favorite cake and a balloon

his plan was to disguise this work absensce as a surprise for you 😭

he also bought extra meds, tissues, and teas for you at the store as well

when he got home and he was holding a cake and balloons in his hands, you kind of stare at him from the couch under lots of tissues

you can't even comprehend that he's home and that you need to somehow make the tissues disappear because he's home early!

but that's when he pretty much knew 110% that you were sick

"shua, what the? why are you home so early? and why do you have all that?" you say, gathering the tissues and throwing them away quickly

"surprise! i saw this cake was on sale at the store during my lunch break, and i know it's your favorite. so i decided to call off early and surprise you at home."

"honey, you really didn't have to! work is important."

"and taking care of my lover is important, too. don't even pretend you're not sick. you should tell me these things."

"it's allergies-"

he places his palm on your forehead and tsks at you

"you have a fever, love. let's have an early dinner and then eat some cake, okay? don't make me worry more."

"okay, fine..."

he makes you a nice, elaborate dinner that'll warm you up and offers you some of his share of the food in case you're extra hungry

when you shamefully say you don't feel very hungry, he tells you that it's okay and that he'll pack the leftovers for another day

he has the other seventeen members send you words of love and determination so that you'll feel better and get well soon!

and you feel like crying as he reads them out to you

after he shares a slice of cake with you, he offers to carry you to bed, and even though you say no, he finds a way to either carry you or support you on your way to the room

he chooses some of your clothes (his sweatshirt and your yoga pants) for you to change into and helps you wash your face and prepare for bed (with meds ofc!)

and you both lay in bed together

he sings to you as he rubs your back and always hands you a tissue even before you need to ask

"why didn't you let me take care of you for all of today, jagi?" he asks softly

you sigh as you say, "i really just didn't want you to worry or feel inconvenienced. i'm sorry..."

"don't be sorry. let me be here for you whenever you're not feeling well, please. i want you to depend on me sometimes. don't you want me to depend on you sometimes, too?"

"yeah, but that's different..."

"i don't think so. let me take care of you the way you take care of me, okay, gorgeous?"

"okay, shua. i love you so much."

"i love you so much."

"i think i'm getting a fever again."

"i'll go get a wet rag to put on your head, okay? thank you for telling me."

and he cares for you all night. he takes care of you and showers you with kisses.

he doesn't regret it at all, even when he gets sick, too.

you both nurse each other back to good health!

thank you so much for the request, and i hope you feel better soon, anon! i hope you enjoyed the charming and loving shua. feel free to request more things from me! ✧( ु•⌄• )◞◟( •⌄• ू )✧

(p.s. requests are still open! you can request literally anything for any member of svt since i don't have any guidelines set yet. i do specialize in woozi, though! have a great day! ς(>‿<.))

#seventeen #hybe #hong jisoo #pledis seventeen #seventeentumblr #svtcreations #hybe family #svt #seventeen joshua #svt joshua #joshua #joshua hong #hong joshua #joshua x y/n #joshua x reader #joshua x you #seventeen jisoo #jisoo #svt jisoo #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #svt x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #svt x y/n #svt x you #seventeen imagines #joshua drabble #joshua fluff #seventeen drabbles

[a-n-conrad]

Self Fulfilling Prophecy (707 x Reader)

[Summary: Seven begins to act cold after he starts to stay with you for your own safety. However, it was too late to spare you from the heartbreak that he was sure you were doomed to. If only it didn’t take a physical form. A form that might kill you. (They/Them pronouns)

Warnings:Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, blood,

Request: From my request survey (https://forms.gle/D9rsJtkERoBPaKvv8)]

Seven was so different since he’d started staying with you. He had been cold. He started avoiding you almost instantly. He’d snap at you any time you tried to talk to him. It was such a shocking change from how he was just a couple days before. You missed the quirky, high energy person you have been talking to earlier. But you were also so worried for the version of Seven that was right in front of you. People don’t just change like that for no reason. You had to wonder what was up.

If only you could focus on that, instead of the growing pressure in your chest. It was hard to help Seven when you felt your breathing slowly growing weaker. At first, you assumed it was just the stress getting to you. You were in danger. So much had changed in such a short time. And the man you had been falling for was suddenly treating you like he hated you. It was a lot to take in. It was no surprise that you were starting to feel a bit under the weather. 

And then there was the cough. It seemed like your body was trying to rip something free from your lungs. The amount of force each cough held was ridiculous. Still, you refused to believe that there was anything more to it than a bit of stress. At least until the petals started to appear. Small, red stained petals appear in the tissues every time you had a coughing fit. Of course, you had heard of hanahaki disease. It was a rare condition, though. It felt unbelievable that it would happen to you. 

Unrequited love taking physical form. Flowers sprouting in the lungs of each of the disease’s victims. The feeling of heartbreak when you feel like your love was doomed was bad enough, but the crushing feeling of foliage blooming in your chest only made things worse. 

Of course, when you realized what you had, you knew exactly what happened. You had let yourself fall too hard for Seven too quickly. The quick explosion of emotion was bound to blow up in your face. Especially with Seven acting the way that he was. The coldness seemed to make the flowers grow faster. It was almost as though you could feel the roots dig deeper into your body every time Seven pointedly ignored you. 

You knew that the only way to fix it was to confront the situation. Emotion clears away emotion. A solid, tangible heartbreak from a straightforward rejection was known to clear away the flowers that grew with hanahaki disease. That was what you expected to happen, at least. With the way Seven had begun to treat you, you knew there was no outcome besides rejection. However, the idea of confronting the issue made you feel guilty. It was clear that Seven didn’t want to talk to you. How selfish would it be to make him deal with that issue, considering everything else that he was dealing with? You couldn’t bear the thought of that conversation.

So you stayed silent, hoping the feelings would fade, taking the ever-growing flowers with them. Only, that wasn’t what happened. The flowers continued to grow, roots worming their way through the walls of your lungs, filling your breath with blood.

“Seven, have you eaten yet?” you asked timidly. It was one of the only things that you could bring yourself to talk to him about. He still hated the conversations, but you couldn’t help but care. 

“I have some chips,” came his monotone response. He still didn’t look up from his computer. 

“I can make you something if you’d li-” your offer was cut off with a coughing fit. You would normally go to get yourself a tissue, however, the force of each cough made it hard for you to move. You almost seemed to curl up into yourself as the fit progressed, your ribs screaming from the force. 

Seven still didn’t look up at first. The coughing fits weren’t anything new, and you were sure that he thought it was just a cold or something. That was, until you dropped to the ground, your body no longer able to hold out under the force of each cough. You were coughing so hard that you seemed to just lose your balance completely. As you dropped to your knees, Seven finally raised his gaze away from the screen. 

You weren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t the look of fear in his eyes as blood dripped past your lips. You didn’t expect him to set his laptop to the side, or rush over to you. You didn’t expect the hand on your back, or the one that guided you to the bedroom you had been staying in. And you certainly didn’t expect his shocked and angry reaction as he saw the pile of old, bloody tissues that had accumulated next to your bed.

“How long have you been this sick? Why didn’t you tell me? Do you have medicine? Do I need to bring you to the hospital? How could you not tell me?” The rapid-fire questions were hard to process. You hadn’t expected so much angry concern. You were completely unsure of how to respond.

“I-” you were cut off with another cough and another round of questioning from Seven. You didn’t get the chance to respond before he ran off to the bathroom, raiding the medicine cabinet for anything that might help. At least, with the assumption that this was some regular cough. You were thankful that he hadn’t seemed to notice the petals tucked away in each of the tissues that sat next to you. You still weren’t sure how you would explain the situation to him. At least if he thought it was just a bad cough, pneumonia maybe, he would stop worrying after a while. You hoped he would, at least.

“(Y/n), you need to take this,” he insisted, as he handed you the cough medicine that he had managed to find. You were thankful that there was something in that cabinet that hadn't expired. You knew that it wouldn’t do anything to help, but at least it might make him feel better. You hated seeing him worry, though it felt good to have his attention again. You just wished the circumstances were different. It was a bittersweet feeling. 

“I’m sorry, Seven,” you managed to mutter out, your voice coarser than you had expected. 

“I don’t know what you’re apologizing for. Just sleep,” he responded, still cold, but you wondered if there was something underneath the ice of his tone. You weren’t tired, but you couldn’t bring yourself to argue. So you closed your eyes and waited for sleep to set in.

- - - - -

“They’re sick. You need to let me have Jumin send a doctor,” you could hear the voice through the thick fog of sleep, though you couldn’t place it. The why and the who were lost on you as all context reminded clouded in drowsy fog. “No, V. This is serious. They’re coughing up blood. I can’t sit here and do nothing.”

You lay there listening for a moment as you collect your thoughts, pulling the rest of your brain back to reality. You had never heard Seven that upset before, even as he snapped at you for trying to drag him away from his work. And you certainly hadn’t heard him talk like that to V. He always seemed to speak to V as though he was some kind of savior. You didn’t know that full story of them, but you knew that this was new for Seven. And you didn’t know how to feel about it. 

It was at the moment that another coughing fit announced your awakening. Seven hung up almost immediately, turning his attention to you quicker than you could have expected. He was by your side in an instant, trying to comfort you in any way he could. The soothing words felt odd in contrast to how he had been acting earlier. But the look in his eyes was so genuine. You wanted to savor the attention for a moment. Only for a flower to appear in your hand, red stained and entirely too revealing.

It felt like the world paused for a moment. Seven stared at the bundle of petals in your head, and you felt like you could feel the realization sinking in. Coughing up flowers could only mean one thing. Everyone knew that. And Luciel Choi was far too smart to be in denial about what he was seeing right in front of him.

Neither of you knew what to say at first. You had no clue how long the silence stretched on. It felt like an eternity and a second at the same time. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked in a heartbreaking whisper.

“I didn’t think you’d want to know,” was all you could think to say. The moment after stretched on for another emotion-soaked eternity. And then, before you could even notice him moving, his arms were around you.

You could feel him sobbing as he muttered apologies into your shoulder. You had never seen him so vulnerable. You wondered how many people were even alive that had. All you could do was run your hand through his hair, waiting for him to gather himself up enough to talk a bit more clearly. You knew that you needed to discuss the issue finally. You had put it off long enough. And now you had no other option. 

“(Y/n), I’m not a good person. I’m not the person who deserves this from you. There are so many better people. You deserve so much better.”

“Is that you telling me that you don’t feel the same?” You ask. You needed a clear answer. At the very least, you could finally breathe again if you got a clear answer. 

“No,” he said, “This is me trying to protect you. But I suppose that hasn’t been working out the way that I meant.”

He muttered the last part, his eyes drifting over to the stack of used tissues. It was clear that his attempt to save you from himself had only backfired. You didn’t need saving from him. You needed him. 

“Seven, I love you. Tell me you feel the same way, please,” You had no idea when you got so bold, but maybe it was the look in his eyes that did it. Someone needed to take the reins. And you supposed that it would have to be you this time. 

“I do,” he managed to choke out, though you could tell that he still felt unsure about letting you near him.

“Then we can work everything else out from here,” you told him. And you fully believed it. Everything you work out. You could already feel your lungs starting to clear up as you grabbed his hand. You just needed to work it out together. And now that you knew that he felt the same way, you weren’t about to let him push you away again.

[A/N: I'm definitely a bit rusty. Sorry for being MIA for so long. But hopefully, I'll get back on track soon enough.]

#mystic messenger #mm 707 #mystic messenger 707 #mysme 707 #otome game #707 x reader #saeyoung choi #luciel choi

[sirowsky-stories]

The Lost Island

Chapter 20 - Found

Recap: After saving the world by sacrificing yourself to allow a matriarch tree to grow impossibly fast, you've managed to use the last remaining strength of your soul to send Marcus back in time to when he first met you. And as the two timelines begin to merge, you and Marcus are left trying to rediscover each other, just as the island once again beckons for you.

Author’s Note: It's been a year and a half since I abandoned this poor thing with just one chapter unfinished. But thanks to @scorpio-marionette I've finally been able to finish it! Hope it won't disappoint!

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Cursing, comfort, fluff, reference to smut. Word Count: 5130 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

   Unsurprisingly, things got somewhat awkward after that impromptu reunion. Your clothes were scattered on the ground, some of them even lightly torn due to the sudden urgency of your need for each other, so once you’d both regained your breaths, it was a scramble to recover them and make your way inside.    Thankfully, Missy had clocked what was going on out back and opted to hide in her room, hoping that none of the neighbours would’ve heard the two of you. But it wasn’t until you and Marcus climbed into his bed and just held one another, that you really began to grasp everything that had happened.

   Again, it wasn’t as simple as memories. It was strong emotions and a lot of sensory input which was suddenly just there, as clear and real as they would’ve been to the version of you who had lived them.    But after your rushed and bewildering coupling, you began to feel less like she was this other being which couldn’t be more than loosely connected to you, and more like you might actually be the same person.

   Something which became a tad unsettling when you were getting ready to leave the following evening, and realized that both you and Missy had acted like old friends from the moment you’d walked into the kitchen that morning.    Also, you knew where everything belonged in the entire house, which foods were the seven-year old's favourites, and even what Marcus’ morning mood was gonna be. And it was only after you’d stepped outside to fly the helicopter back to HQ, that any of this felt at all strange.

   You’d had dinner with the two of them, chatted, cracked jokes and laughed, cleared the table and helped with the dishes, all without once noting that this was the first time you’d set foot in there, the first time you’d hung out with them.    Hell, it was the first time you’d socialized with anyone other than what had been absolutely necessary, ever since you were sixteen. And it had felt completely natural and easy.

   It was only when you stood there, by the aircraft, turning back to say goodnight to Marcus, that it even occurred to you, and you could see the sudden uncertainty in his eyes as he read the confusion in yours.

   “I… wow… This is so weird,” you tried, failing to find words to describe the feeling.

   “Are you okay?” was all he could manage, clearly unsure of what was going on with you, but unwilling to pressure you or do anything which might jeopardise your rekindled relationship.

   And then it hit you how this had to be just as strange for him. Suddenly having you back, presumably exactly as it had been in the time he’d lived, and you were abruptly worried that he’d fall apart if you left again.    He loved you like nothing you’d ever seen in anyone before. Like you’d never even believed possible.

   “Are you?” you countered, and then watched him suck in a deep breath.

   “I don’t have a clue…” he started, before it all came flooding out as if he’d been sitting on this all evening. “But I’m so scared. This all felt like before, and god, I missed it so much… feeling like a family again.    But I’m so fucking scared that this was just a random thing and that you’re gonna fly off and everything will fade, and I’ll be alone again, and I can’t do it, Pita… I can’t fucking do it again. Please, don’t go.”

   He was all but sobbing towards the end, and it tore at your heart to see that pain in him.    You stepped away from the machine and hugged him, and the feeling was right there. That same desire and affection and devotion, telling you how much you loved this man, how you’d do anything for him.    And suddenly it seemed impossible that you’d even contemplated leaving him just to return a helicopter that was unlikely to be needed during the night anyway.

   You let him lead you back to the house, no longer sure what you’d been so confused about before.    And when you fell asleep in his arms a little while later, it was with a feeling of comfort and familiarity, free of all doubts or troubles.    This was where you belonged.

<><><><><> 

   Marcus woke up the next morning to a phone that simply would not stop ringing no matter how many times he ignored it. Which he did because his arms were still around you, and he wasn’t gonna let you go until someone forced him.    Eventually, he got annoyed with the insistent disturbance and used his threads to move the device away to the kitchen, not even glancing at the screen to see who was trying to reach him. All he wanted to see was you.

   He’d lost this. He knew what it felt like to have to give this up, to know that he’d never again get to feel the warmth of your body against his, or the steady rise and fall of your chest, the rhythmic beating of your heart and how his own body synchronized to match.    If this was really happening, if you really were somehow merging with his version of you, then there was a chance he’d never have to give you up again.    But if it wasn’t… then he’d have to suffer that pain all over again, and he knew now he couldn’t survive that. So yes, he’d hold on to you for as long as he could.

   The day was still young, and you showed no signs of waking up yet, so he just laid there, enjoying every second and trying not to think about the fears which still lived in his heart.    But of course, it wouldn’t last forever.

   “Dad! Will you please answer your phone!” Missy called from further away in the house, apparently having gotten up already.

   It was a Friday so that wasn’t surprising, she was good at getting up in time for school, sometimes getting some reading done during breakfast, or just sitting outside in the morning sun, listening to her favourite music.    Where his phone hadn’t bothered you, Missy’s voice instantly made you stir, which made a wonderful sort of warm softness spread through him. You cared about her, as much as he did. Reacted to her as readily as a mother would.

   “What time is it?” you sleepily grumbled, clearly fighting against having to get up, but also clearly fine with waking up in his bed and arms.

   “Early. You can stew for another half-hour if you want,” he answered in a whisper, to keep from fully rousing you and let you slip back into sleep if you wanted.

   “Mmm…” was all you responded with, which he interpreted as you feeling much too good to get up.

   But he still had to.    He squeezed you just a little tighter, pressing a light kiss to your head, just behind the ear, and then carefully pulled away, hating how the sudden loss of contact made him feel cold as he padded barefoot to the bathroom and closed the door.

   You’d only gone to bed and slept last night, but the few heated minutes out on the patio would never leave his memory for as long as he lived. Because it had been you.    He’d seen it in your eyes, the exact same expression as you’d had that one and only time the two of you had been together prior to this one.    It didn’t matter that that was all the experience he had to go on with you, because there was so much more to your relationship than the physical, and in those few minutes, everything had been just as he remembered.

   Standing there, staring at his own reflection in the bright vanity lights around the mirror, he could clearly see the fear that still held him in a tight grip. The crippling fear that even after everything that had happened, everything he’d been through, he might still lose you.    But he couldn’t live under the constant weight of that fear without turning into a wreck of a human being. So, he tried not to think about it, tried to focus instead on getting the day going, planning the morning out in his head while he did his morning toilet, before sneaking back out into the bedroom, somehow still relieved to see you there.

   Taking a breath, trying to keep himself levelled, he left the room and headed to the kitchen, where the fucking phone was still ringing incessantly.    He picked it up, noting that the caller-ID said Granada, but whatever she wanted, it couldn’t be good, and he wasn’t in the mood for bad today.    Could he not get to take one day off from bad stuff?

   “It’s work, right?” Missy wondered, already seated at the table with her cereal bowl.

   “Yeah,” he replied simply, still just staring at the phone.

   “Then you should answer, it might be really important.”

   “I know, I just don’t wanna be the Heroic right now. Not today.”

   Technically, both you and Marcus had been a bit awol for the past day and a half, seen as how you both still had a job to do, which you’d completely ignored in favour of just being together.

   “Because of Ace? She stayed last night, right?” she probed, trying not to sound overly interested, but not quite succeeding.

   Apparently, the same melding process which seemed to be happening with you, was happening with Missy as well. Suddenly she too appeared to know about things that had occurred in his timeline, as though she’d lived them herself, which only increased his hopes of this being a permanent displacement.

   “She did, and I really wanna focus on her right now. Things have happened lately, that… well, it’s complicated,” he tried, but it was a poor choice of words.

   “You guys aren’t like… having problems or anything?” she sounded worried now, which in a backwards kinda way made him happy, because worrying meant she cared about his relationship with you.

   “No, not like that. We just, uh… need to figure some stuff out.”

   “Dad, that’s exactly what grown-ups say when they have problems,” she said, starting to sound genuinely concerned now.

   “And I’m also saying that you don’t need to worry, she’s not going anywhere as long as I have a say,” he reassured her, which appeared to be enough to calm her down.

   But then that took her focus back to his phone.

   “Gosh, just answer her already. She’s not gonna stop.”

   He sighed again, deeper this time, but reached for the device all the same.

   “Moreno.”

   “God damned it, Marcus, I was about to send a tac-unit to your house!” Granada shouted in his ear, making him twitch his head away from the speaker for a moment.

   “Well, good fucking morning to you too, Boss…” he snapped back, earning a snicker from his daughter in between bites of cereal.

   “I need you to come in as soon as possible, we’ve got a major problem,” her tone was enough to get his blood going, and he threw a worried glance at Missy, who had now buried her nose into one of her textbooks.

   “What is it?” he questioned, trying to keep his tone casual.

   “It’s the island. And since you’re the only one that knows what might be going on, I need you to get your ass over here.”

   Shit. He should’ve known something would happen to disturb his chances at a quiet week. It wasn’t like he’d had more than a moment’s chance to relax and recover ever since that damned plane crash.    How long ago was that now?

   “I’ll be right there,” he promised, and then ended the call.

   “Should I call Abuela to come drive me to school?” Missy asked, still looking at her book.

   “Yeah. I’m sorry, kiddo.”

   “You’re not going back to fieldwork, though. Right?”

   “I might have to,” he admitted, not wanting to lie to her. “To stop something really bad. I don’t know yet.”

   “What about Ace?”

   The chopper was still in his backyard, and he didn’t know how to fly it, whereas you did.

   “She’s gonna take me to work and return the helicopter she borrowed in the process.”

   “So, you’re gonna go together?” she puzzled, sounding quite pleased with the idea.

   “Like I said, she’s not going anywhere unless it’s with me.”

   It took you no time at all to get up, get dressed and get the aircraft warmed up, once Marcus had made it clear that you were needed at HQ. Not that Granada had said anything about needing you.    He did, though.    It was amazing to observe how you kissed the top of Missy’s head in passing, both of you acting as though it was the most ordinary thing, wishing each other a good day before you left the house with him.

   The flight was also dealt with in record time, meaning that the two of you stepped into Granada’s office just twenty minutes after the call.    She didn’t look surprised to see you walk in behind him, and just asked you to close the door before her focus landed on Marcus.

   “Ah, the runaways return,” she remarked, but then got straight to business before either of them could mount a defence. “The island has become visible to our satellites since yesterday. Do you know why that might be?”

   “I’m not sure,” he pondered, genuinely surprised by the news. “Our theory in my time was that the island itself was responsible for the cloaking, since it vanished when I killed it.”

   “You killed what? The island?”

   “Yes. But so far as we know, it’s still very much alive right now, so I really don’t know.    Although… it is possible that the portal has something to do with this.”

   “How so?”

   “It created the time-displacement which started when we arrived there, probably because it sensed my powers. So, maybe our recent visit was enough for it to react the same way, or perhaps it actually remembered me. Either way, that thing is a lot more powerful than we can ever fully grasp, and considering that it’s been a prisoner there for a long time, I’m prepared to believe that it could’ve disrupted the island’s cloaking capacity, if it somehow figured out how to free itself without our help.”

   “From what you’ve described, I don’t think we want to get up close and personal with that entity again. But we obviously don’t want the island to develop or distribute deadly spores either, which is what I gather will happen if the cloak stays down.    So, any suggestions?”

   “Yeah. We figure out how the tree produces those golden particles and try and bring some of it to the island, so we can kill those spores and then send the Ozsha home without destroying their world.”

   “And you’re sure you could convince the portal to cooperate?”

   “Actually, I don’t think I have to. In the future, I was able to pull it to me and control where and when it opened, and since my powers don’t seem to have changed by coming here, I’m pretty sure I can still do that.    But I also think that the portal kind of wants us to help the aliens get home.”

   “Wait, wait… Did you just say you can manipulate space-time?” she sceptically questioned, to which he shrugged.

   “To some degree. If I’d been able to assert complete control over it, I would’ve found a way back to Pita much sooner, but I couldn’t create a permanent displacement on my own.”

   “Then how do you know if you can put the Ozsha back on Eqlo’e permanently?”

   “Because I know that this isn’t their original time either, and the cosmos wants things to be in their correct time and place. That much I’m certain of.”

   “Right. Well then, I’ll get the departments working on those particles.”

<><><><><><><> 

   It took two weeks for the science department to crack the puzzle of the matriarch, and in the meantime, the line between you and Marcus’ Pita kept on blurring. Until you could usually not even recall how you’d only known him for a fraction of the time it felt like.    You really were merging though, because you could still recall the events that had happened in your own time, as well as his, which meant you weren’t being erased or replaced with her. It was more like she was being added to you.

   Your lives were identical up until the moment of Mo’s transition into this time, so it was really just those three years which were being imparted to you, but they sure left behind some massive impressions.    Going back to the island once again only strengthened your experiences from there, helping you to recall every detail, and leaving you incredibly grateful that it had somehow not ended in utter failure, because holy shit had there been a lot of close calls.

   Six canisters of golden spores had been prepared for you to set up on locations around the entire island, before an automatic trigger would open them and disperse the shimmering particles evenly across the small patch of land. And since this felt more personal to the two of you than anyone else, you’d opted to do this alone, although a ship carrying the entire Heroics team was anchored nearby, just in case.

   One canister was to be placed right on the forest line of the beach where you’d first washed up that day after the crash, so you left it for last.    When it was done, you walked down further onto the beach and just stood there, looking out at the ocean in silent remembrance. Not about anything in particular, just the fact that you’d survived all this crap.    You made a mental note to call Chris as soon as you got a chance, because the spores reminded you of the painful goodbye that day. The regrets you’d felt.

   Then you registered a movement in front of you, and refocused on the present only to find the Ozsha having appeared in the waves as far as your eyes could see.    But they weren’t behaving threatening, and it took you a moment to realize that it was probably because Marcus was talking to them. Letting them invade his mind so he could show them his memories and help them understand that this was all an effort to save them.

   “It’s okay, Pita. You can press the button, they’re gonna stay right there and let the spores infect them,” he reassured you, and you did as he asked.

   The canisters performed their function as intended, and within minutes, the entire island and the surrounding waters were covered in gold, sparkling under the sun.    Mo then nodded at the Ixo, before turning away from the water, heading up the beach and towards the west side of the mountain.

   “That just leaves the portal,” he said while he took your hand and settled in for the trek.

   “Do you think it’ll come out swinging like last time?” you pondered, remembering your first trip to their home-planet, and how cataclysmic it had been to your relationship with this man.

   “I don’t know. I’m kinda curious to find out if it somehow knows about all that. It seemed to know absolutely everything before.”

   “Yeah, but if memory serves, that was only after it first emerged from its hibernation.”

   “So far as we knew, you mean. It could’ve understood everything from the start, manipulating us with its every move.”

   “Hm. I guess so. Did we ever figure out why it plopped us out with a three-month delay after we’d sent the Ozsha home?” you asked, and saw him smile a little, probably at the way you expressed these past events as your own experiences now.

   “I believe that was related to us learning that the island could still destroy us. Although, why we needed to be that far into the future after destroying it to understand it, I still don’t know.”

   “Maybe the goo got it wrong. No one’s infallible.”

   He chewed on that for a minute, while you made your way through some thicker underbrush, but then he grumbled quietly, like he’d been arguing with himself internally.

   “No, I don’t think it did anything at random. We might not be able to suss out why it did such a thing, but I’m certain there was a reason.”

   “Like what?” you wondered, not challenging him, just curious about his reasoning.

   “I think it might’ve looked at every conceivable way to avert the disaster of this planet being destroyed, finding just one viable solution. And I think that everything it did was with surgical precision, specifically to get us to the places we needed to be in the exact moments we needed to be there.”

   “Which would mean my sacrifice was the only solution, all along. And nothing we did differently could’ve changed anything for the better.”

   “True. But what if it also saw this?” he pondered, lifting your joined hands to indicate your restored closeness. “What if it knew that you are so fucking powerful, you’d find a way back to me, even after death?”

   You just smiled at that. There was every chance it was true, just like there was every chance it wasn’t. But either way, however strangely and complicatedly you’d gotten here, you were together.    Against all odds, you’d found a way to each other across space and time. How could you ever argue against that?

   Reaching the black lands, you were once again met by the portal’s defences, but Marcus easily averted them as you made your way to the center of the area, and the large flat rock.    You stood silently in the middle of it, waiting and watching the surrounding rocks, until that same screech could be heard from somewhere to the north. It quickly multiplied until it was coming from all directions, and then hundreds of little black pools of liquid were converging around you.

   But unlike that first time, they didn’t try and engulf you now. They gathered into the black gateway between all of the cosmos, right in front of you, and you felt Marcus laugh lightly beside you.

   “What?” you asked, and he looked at you with a puzzled brow.

   “You can’t feel it?” he responded, smiling wider, but you had no clue what he was talking about, so you shrugged, and he threw a thumb towards the portal. “Don’t be afraid of it, cariño. You know it, just like it knows you. Let it show you.”

   Still not clear about what he meant, you turned your focus on the thing, feeling ambivalent about whether it really was a friend, after everything it had put you through.    But then a feeling started to creep up your spine, and suddenly, images flooded your mind.    Like a movie being played out inside you, Marcus’s entire life was shown to you, from his childhood to his marriage and the birth of Missy, all the way to everything the two of you had been through, including all the lost time you couldn’t remember.

   The three months you’d mentioned earlier, now revealed to you in full, as you’d been brought to the Hawaiian Islands back before Akela’s party had left. You’d lived with them in their time, gotten to know them, shared in their joys and sorrows, for no other reason than that your fates were linked, and it was important that you’d always know each other, even if the memories were no longer there.    That was how Akela had so easily read you. How he’d known you even when you’d been brought before him three years prior to the events which had supposedly been your first encounter.

   From there, the black liquid took you to the memories of Marcus’s Pita as she’d been merged with the matriarch tree. How she’d spent an entire year conserving energy, refusing to grow while she’d waited for the right moment, knowing she could do it. That she could give him everything back.    That she could give you both everything you’d ever dreamed of.

   When the images faded, you and Mo both dropped to your knees, crying with the overload of sensations, the months and years of emotions you’d experienced in the space of mere minutes.

   “Oh, god… I saw your life,” you started, still squeezing his hand while you tried to stop trembling. “I saw everything we missed.”

   “Me too,” he panted, struggling to get his breathing under control, having clearly experienced something similar. “I saw your parents, your birthday… your career. And then…”

   “Hawaii,” you filled in when he had to pause for a moment.

   “Yeah. I finally know what Kahele means,” he breathed, smiling despite the strain to his system, and you mirrored him.

   “The home,” you whispered. “The most fitting name I’ve ever heard for anyone.    You’ve been my home all my life, I just never knew it.”

   He pulled you to him then, embracing you as you both sat there on your knees before the giant black door, finally able to understand everything, and therefor, finally able to let it go.    Akela had asked you to deliver a message to his daughter after he’d passed, but now you knew that it had always been meant for you, since the Chief had always been meant to live on. That the message had actually come from the portal itself, taking the shape and sound of a man you trusted so that you would always remember it.

   ‘Eha ke ola – Life hurts

   He’d said that she would know what it meant, and you did. You knew it wasn’t about pain, but about the struggles of life making you impossibly strong. That the real message had been for you to believe in yourself, because every day of your life had prepared you for this battle. Every moment of self-doubt and fear had been there to teach you just how much you could endure. And how much you could give.

   The portal vanished then, and a moment later, so did the island and the Ozsha, leaving just a barren piece of rock under your feet. A dead volcano, completely natural to this world, not cloaked by any alien lifeforms or sprouting any blood-sucking trees.    Your work was done.

<><><><><><><> 

   You agreed to marry him just a few weeks after your return from the island, and the wedding was one for the books. All the Heroics and their families were there, your brother, and some of the senior staff, and it was mostly just a lovable kind of chaos.    It hadn’t ended until the following morning, after the last bouts of games and wrestling matches had finally drained your guests of their energy, leaving you and Marcus to drive off into the sunrise together.

   But you hadn’t travelled anywhere for your honeymoon. You’d been away for long enough already. Instead, the time off work had been spent in an oceanside cabin not far from your now shared home, in the throws of affection and unbridled passion, resulting in the arrival of Missy’s little brother, nine months later.    She adored being a big sister, doting on the baby boy every chance she got, insisting that you name him Kal, after Superman’s real name, because she had decided that any kid who had managed to get born in spite of spacetime displacements and interdimensional warfare, had to be the most superpowered kid to have ever existed.

   Needless to say, you’d both caved. Baby Kal it was. But he soon earned his own nicknames as well, such as Mini-Ace, MM Junior, and Kaliber, all based on his large and utterly charming personality.    Surprisingly, just like his big sister, he never developed any abilities. And Marcus was actually glad for it, because it meant that Missy would never feel excluded. That the two of them would always be equals, and therefor, hopefully develop a strong and lasting bond.

   Not that you would’ve allowed them to drift apart even if they’d been in danger of it. That was where your experiences of a shattered childhood turned you into supermom, because whatever they did, you always knew how to keep them together. How to keep them united against the struggles of life, so they would always have an ally and a safe place to run to if things got difficult.

   Marcus often sat and just watched you teach them these invaluable lessons, marvelling at how naturally you’d taken on this role which had seemed so impossibly difficult and frightening to you at the start of this relationship.    He remembered how you’d panicked at the mere mention of your childhood during that first dinner, and how scared you’d been of somehow ruining Missy by just being in her life.

   It all seemed so far away now.    But he also remembered how it had felt when you’d died in his arms. First on the island, then with the tree. And whenever those images and feelings gripped him, he understood every nuance of the panic you’d suffered. The crippling fear of knowing that you could utterly destroy those you loved, simply by loving them.

   The rewards of that love, however, would always outweigh the fear, which was why those memories never darkened his spirit or made him doubt anything about his life.    He would go through it all again, a hundred times, if it meant he’d get to see you play with your children, cheer at their successes, share their burdens and carry their pains.    He would never take it for granted and he would never stop thanking your soul for the strength it gave him, every single day, to know how hard you’d fought to get to be with him.

   The island was always doomed to be lost, a mere footnote in history, the scope of which most people would never even understand. But to the two of you, it would always be the place where your lost souls had found their way to each other.    So, every year, on the anniversary of the plane crash, you went back there and planted a tree, leaving it to the elements with the hope that it would survive until the next year. And by the time you’d grown old enough to have grandchildren, an entire forest covered the island once more.

   No one had wanted anything to do with it after it had been deemed safe, so you and Marcus had claimed it. Not to be turned into a resort or even your own private vacation spot, but simply to keep it alive, as a monument to your story.    And together, you’d named it Loa’a.

   Found.

THE END

—————

If anyone has come back to finish this with me, just know that you're amazing! I'm letting the taglist tag along since this story pre-dates my writing blog, so my apologies to anyone who didn't wish to be notified about this anymore.

Beyond that, I'm just so pleased to have this finished, and a huge THANK YOU to anyone who gave or gives this crazy story a chance!

@deadhumourist @idreamofboobear @dornish-queen @ladyphantom96 @sarahjkl82-blog @shsoba05 @cannedsoupsucks @toomanystoriessolittletime @tintinn16 @nolanell @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @myfavpedrothings @generalfoolish @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @spishsstuff

#the lost island fic #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno x female reader #marcus moreno x reader #we can be heroes fic #we can be heroes au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #sirowsky stories

[teatitty]

Okay so I'm generously calling this the Dandy Guardian AU until I think of a better name but essentially this is the rundown [had to put this under a cut because it got long WHOOPS]:

In the book version of events, Dandelion isn't present when Geralt is in Cintra and calls the Law of Surprise, but he does know about what happened. I can't recall if we ever see that convo in text or if it's just background knowledge but that's not important right now

When the Fall of Cintra happens, Dandelion already has his ear to the ground, the walls and the crowds to follow Nilfgaard's movements - Oxenfurt's bards are the best bet anyone has for gathering information about the invading armies because they are spread so wide around the continent and have so many connections

Dandelion's first thought is not to send word to Oxenfurt about Cintra's fall. His first thought is Geralt, and his blasted Child Surprise. He starts tracking his way to Cintra, hoping that he might be able to cross paths with Geralt in the surrounding territories to assure himself that his friend didn't get caught in the middle of that Fall

Meanwhile, Ciri knows she has to find a Witcher by the name of Geralt. She knows he is her destiny. She has no fucking idea where to start looking for him, but she's on the run from Nilfgaard, terrified and anxious and stressed, and in her bag, to her surprise, she finds a well worn copy of a hidden book of Dandelion's poems, all of which are to do with Geralt's adventures. Mousesack had given it to her in secret when she was six, and it had been one of her favourites ever since

She quite forgot she had it in her bag

Cirilla has no idea where to find Geralt. But Dandelion might. Dandelion, she thinks, is her best bet to track her own destiny

And of the two of them, Dandelion isn't a very hard man to find. His bright plumage and singing laughter leaves an easy trail of rumours and tracks to follow. Curiously, whenever she asks about where she might find him, people don't tend to question her. They look at her with sympathy - and sometimes pity - and ask if she has anyone else she can rely on

"No," says Ciri, sombre and trembling. "I only have him."

It's not a lie, exactly, and she's gotten quite good at hiding her aristocratic accent. They point her to when they last heard of his presence. They ask if she needs any help. She thanks them for it, because she is still polite, if angry and confused and oh-so-very lost, but she declines any further company

She goes on.

Every night, she opens up that little book of poems, and tries to imagine what the man described in them is like. It's the closest thing she has to knowing Geralt the Person rather than Geralt the Cursed Witcher

Cirilla is three weeks' worth of travel out from Cintra's borders when she finds Dandelion. It's a little more accurate to say she's dragged over to him - apparently, a blonde, freckle faced child asking about such a famous bard is a quick titter of gossip in the grapevine, and she quickly discovers why it is that nobody ever asked her why she wanted him, and always looked with sympathy or pity at her plight:

Dandelion's hair is blonde. Hers is paler than his own, but he is blonde, like her, and his eyes are bright and clear. His face, though worn and tired, is fair and freckled just like hers, and he is just as surprised as she is when she finds herself shoved in front of him and announced to be his "illegitimate daughter"

"Whoever you got unlucky enough to knock up," says the other minstrel who guided her, "the poor lass seems all alone now. From what I heard, you're the only thing she's got left in the world."

Whatever the minstrel says next is lost to her - for a few aching moments, Dandelion looks panicked. And then something shifts. His face softens. "You look dead on your feet, darling," he says. "Come on, lets get you upstairs and clean you up a bit."

Cirilla doesn't trust strangers. Oddly, Dandelion doesn't feel like one. Perhaps because she has spent so many nights reading his work. Or maybe it's because he's a friend of her destiny. Either way, she quietly follows him up to his room, and when the door is closed, he says, "You don't know where Geralt is, do you?"

Ciri does not.

Her lip trembles. Her shoulders shake. When she finally heaves a sob, Dandelion does not crowd her. But his hands are gentle when he moves her cloak from her shoulders. His voice is soft as he brushes her hair and hums a quiet song

Dandelion never met Pavetta in person. But he once saw her in a painting, and he's seen plenty of Calanthe's likeness over the years besides. Ciri looks a spitting image of them both. Privately, he's impressed at how well she could hide her accent. But she is still just a child, and Dandelion has much more experience with putting on such a performance. He's worn many a different mask with many a different voice over the years, and he had heard traces of her native Cintran beneath the roughness of her croak

Cirilla is alone. But she is also alive, and Dandelion knows, with a confidence born of years by Geralt's side, that his Witcher would never let himself die before finding this girl safe

When the morning comes, he begins to take her North

#the witcher books #dandy guardian AU #dandelion #cirilla fiona elen riannon #this is obviously just a drafted sort of outline to give The Overall Vibe Of The Thing #but there you have it! my idea for an AU where ciri finds our errant bard before she finds geralt #and the two of them travel together to find their misplaced witcher #she's already started using the name 'fiona' for herself btw #which is how she's introduced to dandelion #him picking up on her accent is bc we know he's good at this in canon! #he notices rience's accent in the midst of being tortured and if he can make note of something so innocuous during that #then I bet he's simply got an ear for picking up that sort of thing #also please imagine in this AU that ciri picks up dandelion's sweeping gestures and poetic speech patterns #she's imprinting on him to learn how to be a better actor :] surely this will not cause any problems down the line

[your-fave-adopted-you]

hii! could you write the nrc staff protecting a younger (like, 13/14) transmasc yuu from an older student who’s being a dick about them being trans? ty if you can, no pressure though!! <3

awww i can't help but imagine reader and Ortho being best friends 😭💞

Guardian! school staff protects transmasc reader from upperclassmen bigots

Characters : Crowley, Crewel, Trein, Ashton,

TW : transphobia towards reader, might be upsetting to some ig

M! reader

Context :

Being the youngest student at the NRC has its perks.

Your first-year classmates were pretty chaotic and nice to be around, even Ace and Sebek weren't that mean when you were there.

But apart from them, everyone else pretty much adopted you on sight. You were everybody's little brother now, i don't make the rules.

But unfortunately there were still people like back at home, people who didn't understand, or rather, that chose not to.

But at least this time you're not alone against them.

Dire Crowley

Your bully and you were immediately sent to his office after Trein heard you two shouting during his lesson.

This asshole had been misgendering you on purpose recently but it was today that he started calling you names.

Your classmates usually glared at him and that was enough to make it stop, today he was feeling a little more confident, and you were pissed as ever.

So, long story short, you got a 16- maybe 17 year old looking down to his hands while he explained his version of the story.

Honestly, it wasn't anything you hadn't heard before. "Oh but i didn't know-" "i promise it wasn't my intention-" "it was just a joke! I'm sure... he got it wrong."

Sure, this idiot thinks he can fool Crowley, your legal guardian, your Crowdad just because he's... well, another idiot.

While he was throwing compliments and praise here and there in hopes of getting out of the situation, you started to doubt wether or not your guardian would actually fall for it.

I mean he's Crowley.

Every time the Acedeuce duo and you fuck up, you only have to tell him how lost you were without his guidance, his imposing and respectable presence- for him to forgive and forget

"Hm, I'm really disappointed right now. How could one of my best students get in trouble because of such an entitled child..."

He said very serious, now looking at you directly.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

And as you were already preparing to explain and justify yourself, as usual, he continued.

"Since when has this rude, overgrown child being doing this to you?- When were you going to tell me?"

The boy sitting beside you started looking more terrified than offended.

Somehow, Crowley's voice... his tone... his face even, half covered- and still

It was so threatening, so scary and sincere

"This isn't just about harassment, young man, or even the fact that you would need this kind of intervention to show the minimum respect for a fellow classmate-

But you also choose to target someone younger than you? what does this say about you? should you even be studying here?"

Crowley was defending you.

The same man that would have made you a janitor the day you got here if it wasn't for Grim. (and child labor)

But after all it seems like he actually cared.

The guy from earlier got detention for interrupting the lesson, and you got away with it since it was him who started it.

This wasn't the first- And maybe and to your dismay- the last time something like this would happen.

But now that you have people that will stand up for you? Maybe you can be ok with staying in this world just a little longer.

Divus Crewel

This actually happened during his lesson.

I don't know how someone would be as stupid as to bully you in front of your literal guardian but here we are.

After explaining the next project, everyone had started chatting, picking a partner and commenting on whether or not they would fail because honestly it didn't look easy

But for some reason, just for a moment the whole class went silent. You know how this happens. alright

And, as clear as day, only one voice was heard.

it was this asshole, telling you to go home since this place wasn't co-ed.

this time though, your friends didn't say anything, as they immediately understood what was going to happen next.

Crewel was staring at both you and that idiot, as he walked over.

"What is exactly the problem then? i don't see any girls here."

"You think I'm gonna listen to a grown man with a full face of makeup?"

seriously this dude had a dead wish .

Detention wasn't going to be enough for Crewel to feel like this asshole got what he deserves.

"We're feeling bold huh? well since you're such a strong, manly guy, you'll have no problem with fixing Ramshackle's kitchen, right?"

before your bully could say anything he continued

"By the way I'm sure Crowley will be very amused to hear that a student has insulted one of the teachers. I wonder what kind of chores he'll give you by punishment."

It's only normal that your guardian is beyond pissed.

and with this kinda stuff he's way meaner than the Crowdad.

Mozus Trein

I won't sugarcoat this okay

He most likely misgenderd you a couple of times before having a very... informative talk with you.

and you know, the typical "You're too young to know!" "What nonsense, why do you dress up like that?" "Come on now, no one is going to kick you out of Night Raven for wearing a skirt!"

But you explained, with all the patience you could conjure, how the whole situation was for you. that you didn't choose to be like this, to feel like this...

That if he was going to be your guardian you would be his son. period.

So, yeah, after a while he gets it. And honestly he never misgenders you again. Not even by "accident" like so many people liked to tell you.

It was an important matter.

You are important.

And then one day during class he hears you and some other student having a fight.

Some dude was treating you like shit just because he thought it would be funny to pick on someone much younger than him ig?

And he was being worse than in front of Crewel, because he thought that your guardian wouldn't care about this kind of stuff.

But oh boy

you know that thing old teachers do with big ass rulers, hitting them against the board to get the class attention ? yeah we'll make it angry and more intimidating.

"May i know what are you two discussing that you are defending with such passion?"

oh but he knew, he just wanted to hear what your classmate had to say.

"Nothing Mr Trein! it's not y/n's fault that ... she's... so wrong about a lot of things"

"Like what, exactly?"

Then the bully proceeded to lie about whatever thing to make it seem like he was trying to help you.

"BULLSHIT!" you finally shout back.

after scolding you for your language, Trein sent the guy straight to the principal's office.

A coward, an asshole and also a liar huh

This was an unfortunate event yes, but seeing the situation from an outside perspective helped this certified grandpa to understand you better, to see how upsetting and belittling this kind of situations could be.

Just try to be patient with him okay? but for sure next time he will be the first to stand up for you and defend you.

Ashton Vargas

It's no surprise that you don't necessarily have the same level as your classmates when it comes to P.E

i mean. they're 16-17

And your much younger...

Maybe riding a broom is something that you can do as well as the rest but you've got huge guys in your class, have you seen Jack and Sebek? i mean 💀

To make it short no one has a problem with it, you have to grow a lot more yet, become stronger, faster

Your self proclaimed coolest dad knew, so no pressure.

But after running out of breath one day, this dude that has never had a word with you acts ... too worried,

Like, you're not gonna die, chill

But he keeps pestering you, calling you weak, fragile, small, stuff like that.

and then he starts misgendering you and saying that you shouldn't be hard on yourself for not being able to keep up with the guys like??????

you tell him off politely, and as he keeps on borderline insulting you, you finally snap.

long story short, things get a bit physical and Ashton has to come over to stop it.

Your friends tell him what actually happened, but since they saw you so angry they wanted to let you fight that guy, you know, for your honor and stuff

(Yes, again, Sebek and Jack's idea and Acedeuce actually being the ones to go tell the teacher.)

Also Epel was just about to join you when Ashton arrived.💀

"So you were picking on someone much younger huh? do you think it's funny? y/n tried to calmly tell you to fuck off. right? how does it feel to have a younger classmate that's twice the man you are?"

Your guardian was so angry, he basically forbid your bully from playing in any team at any point for the rest of the year.

And he actually called his parents after class 😤

#twst x mc #twst x reader #dire crowley #divus crewel #mozus trein #ashton vargas #this one took me forever #twisted wonderland

[the-kipsabian]

Kip Sabian.

Please go off.

anon i respect you so much for this but i hope you know what you have just done LMAO

tl;dr - hes absolutely perfect in every way possible. love of my life

hes just.. so innovative. his character work is absolutely fucking masterful, no matter which one it is. all of them are so delightfully different from one another but you can still see the same man behind all of them and thats just talking about the range of the character work and the clear work and effort he puts into everything he does, be it just the characters themselves, the promos, in-ring work, anything. he always goes all out, hes creative as hell with them (name me one other person that gets over with a box on their head i dare you) and it truly shows how loving and passionate he is about this whole wrestling thing and that he just absolutely gets it. also he just has fun with it and it shows. anything from cocky indie superbad to coward best husband superbad to boxman to whatever the cringe failure era was lmao and now the sex idol. he just does it all and he does it flawlessly and i will throw hands with tk if he doesnt capitalize on this man soon i sWEAR TO GODDAMN

his in-ring work is incredibly good. watch literally any sequence hes ever had with orange cassidy and you see what i mean. hes improved from that too (since the last one of those was a quite long while ago now), he can hang with pretty much anyone. i like it the way he says it himself, he can literally make anyone look good and no one has ever complained about having to work with him in the ring. which says a lot about how good and talented he is imo. he can do it all, be it more grounded moves or recently hes been doing a lot more jumps and top rope moves which! exciting!! cause it just adds to his arsenal and shows off that flexibility even more and its just so insanely good. like fuck man if you can get someone who can hang one-on-one with someone like vikingo like he did a few weeks back, thats a fucking keeper. dont you dare forget that

im not gonna take this moment to talk about his promo stuff cause i will literally be here forever. watch this and get back to me later about why im right that hes incredible at this shit with the tone and again character work and just overall presentation. even if its now a bit more comedic with the sex idol, its still an absolute delight. also i could listen to him talk forever, he has my favorite voice in the entire world and his accent is delicious and good fucking lord

PRESENTATION. hes just really fucking hot okay. i thought he was cute before but my god. the hair, no matter the version, on point. the eyeliner, gorgeous. nail polish, good lord (he needs to bring it back tbh its been a while). the outfits, holy shit i cant say words. i have done an extensive gear study to show how truly insane he makes me about his looks, not to mention the goddamn casual fits/suit game. jesus take the wheel. his smile is fucking out of his world and the laugh lines he gets are maybe my favorite feature on any human ever. hes fucking delicious and what of it

also arms. i dont think i need to say anything more i have also turned into a back admirer girlie (gn) because of him so like. uuuuuh

AND THEN. hes just a fucking delightful human being in general. is he stupid and cringey? yes, but arent we all. it just shows how human he is. just like us. ive so many times wondered how if we lived on slightly different timelines, we might have genuinely been friends cause he reminds me so much of guys of the same age that i know and im friends with. like we would have meshed pretty well together if circumstances were different lmao. that just shows me how genuine he is tbh. hes just fucking nice, hes very supportive, tries his best to be a good ally (i have both seen this and have first hand experience on it so dont @ me saying im wrong or its performative, i have way too many cases to prove that hes fr fr) and.. yeah. ive never heard anyone that actually knows him say anything bad about him. he has his flaws, obviously, cause nobodys perfect, but he makes up for it with what ridiculously good he has in him. this is a man with so much potential and love to give to the world both in his personal and professional lives and hes just needs his chance to shine so fucking badly, in all areas of life

im gonna stop now before i get too emotional but. yeah. he means fucking everything to me 💜💜

#thank you for asking! <3 #Anonymous #i didnt even get into the personal importance of the boxman or his catchphrases theres SO MUCH MORE i could include into this #i tried to keep it brief i wanna do other things tonight LMAO #anon i respect you so much for this thank you i love you #box thoughts