Yuji never questioned his girl’s music taste. Mostly because his own wasn’t anything to brag about—if it sounded good, he played it. Simple as that.

So whenever you climbed into the passenger seat, he handed you the aux without a second thought. And he always knew exactly who you’d queue up before your thumb even touched the screen.

Sabrina Carpenter.

Like clockwork, you’d pull up his search bar, tap her name, and hit shuffle on her entire discography. Yuji never minded. He actually liked watching you hum along, eyes bright, fingers tapping your thigh.

At least… he didn’t mind until today.

You claimed Sabrina’s newest release was to die for—and Yuji, very suddenly, found himself agreeing.

Not because her voice was good (even though it was). Not because the production slapped (it absolutely did). But because of the lyrics.

“A little respect for women can get you very, very far Remembering how to use your phone gets me Oh so, oh so, hot.”

Suddenly, the car felt very warm—like someone had cranked the heat to max—and the collar of Yuji’s shirt was definitely shrinking around his neck.

He cleared his throat, fingers tugging at the fabric as if that would help. “Uh… muffin? Don’t you think this is getting a little…”

He trailed off, cheeks pink, eyes glued to the road like it might save him from the secondhand fluster rolling off the speakers. Yuji didn’t dare finish the sentence. He wasn’t sure he could.